Write It Down: Day One of LockDown by Any Other Name

Now is a good time to keep a blog/journal/diary of current events from your perspective. Keeping on in your own handwriting is a bonus--I'll award extra credit points for hand written entries. And the end of this project you may cash in those extra credit points towards a toaster oven.
Editor's note: there is no toaster oven, but please feel free to play along.

In case you are wondering WHAT in the heck you're going write about, I've compiled this handy-dandy list of writing prompts:

My must haves--plus tea.

1) Describe your living situation: who/what/where/how. Be sure to include a tally of available rolls of "bathroom tissue."

2) Biggest fear. Might as well haul it out into the daylight and take a look at it.

3) Thing you miss the most.

4) Dumb thing you miss.

5) Something you don't miss AT ALL/A.K.A. a good thing that has come from this.

6) What is your daily routine like? "My New Normal."
6b) Revisit this topic every 10 days and track the changes.

7) Are your meals/meal times different? Describe a meal you just had.

8) Imagine a Post-Virus Cookbook--what would the recipes have as a main ingredient?

9) Crafts using T.P.: will we wallpaper with it?

10) Celebrity you would most like/dislike to quarantine with.

11) Write a Covid-19 Haiku. (5/7/5 if you've forgotten)

12) "When I realized this crap was real"--day/event.

13) Turns out, this was all a dream-- like that season of Dallas with Bobby in the shower. Here is how my friends reacted when I told them my *dream.*

14) Is the POTUS a Zombie Creator? Discuss. Outlandish claims welcome.

15) Make a list of all the positive outcomes: i.e. birdsong, cleaner air, etc. or relate a positive story you know about.

16) What is your go-to stress reliever? Before/Now. Same/Different? Personally--i'm all about the bubblebath.

17) Write a Covid-19 Cinquain. Google cinquain. I'M NOT DOING YOUR HOMEWORK, BOB!

18) Write a short story about a person waking up with amnesia and trying to go about their daily "before" life. What do they tell them selves to explain all the differences?

19) Write about Food Banks in a time of Covid.

20) What color would you repaint your shelter-in-place surroundings if you could?

21) Re-name the color rainbow--think fingernail polish names or paint colors. What would you call beige?  What would you call__________?

22) Weirdest thing you bought on-line.

23) Weirdest food you purchased in a grocery store.

24) What/When was your last day of "normal" life like?

25) Dream location to shelter-in-place?

Feel free to share these prompts with others, kindly give credit here to #OverMyGardenGateBlogger.
Thanks, and stay safe!

Virtual Real Life

By now, even the most blissfully oblivious among us have noticed that “normal” is a bit different than “business as usual.”

There are all kinds of advice and information—even mis-information-- available on public safety, proper hand washing, social distancing. Hopefully you’ve paid attention to the Very Fine Advice available, but if you haven’t, here’s the cheat sheet: 1) You can have the virus and share it BEFORE you have any symptoms. SO-- just because y’all are feeling find doesn’t mean you still can’t infect grandma. And since I’ve officially become a grandma, I TAKE THIS PERSONALLY.

2) Wash your hands often, for at LEAST 20 seconds, WITH SOAP (your mom was right about that) and turn off the water with a paper towel if possible. Disinfect surfaces often AND STOP LICKING DOOR HANDLES, I SEE YOU, INTERNET. For the rest of you, stop touching your face.

3) To social distance: just pretend you’re better than everyone else and space accordingly. Just kidding--but do keep 6-10 feet apart in public. That means new line etiquette, don’t get in your cashier’s face when paying/ordering, and you can go to Disneyland when this is all over, but not now. STAY HOME. Yes, you can go for a walk in the woods, but stay 6-10 feet away from bears. Or other hikers, whatever. Google “flatten the curve” and see why it’s so important we do this NOW. As an aside, I can only hope someone hasn’t turned #Flatten the Curve into one of those risqué sites...

If you can afford to, consider keeping your appointments with small business owners, but keep them “virtually”. Order your coffee, pick it up and then chat with your buddies via FaceTIme. Personally, I’m “keeping” my appointments (paying for them) but not going “in office” to get them. I can help keep my local economy going, I can keep myself and my neighbors safe. I know not everyone can do this—but if you can, please consider it. I promised my hairdresser I wouldn’t cut my own bangs in the meantime, so I believe she’s on board with my plan.

4) Take care of your immune system. Laughter is good medicine, so here’s my recent favorite, regarding toilet paper hoarding: “Back in my day, there was so much TP, people used to literally string it up in the trees of their enemies.”

 Eat your veggies, drink plenty of water and get plenty of sleep. Mom was right again!

 Check in with your neighbors, Senior Citizens, and friends. We all need connection, even as we “distance.” Thinking about others takes your mind of your own worries. 

We truly are all in this together. Six feet apart.

Mousecapades: The Finale

Let me quickly set the scene for you:

 It’s 3 a.m. in a typical, small bathroom. A woman wearing a bathrobe and boots is standing on a toilet, waving a broom in one hand and a cellphone with the flashlight on in the other. She somehow believes the flashlight will spotlight the mouse. She believes the cats will find that helpful. She will eventually add a yardstick to complete the ensemble. She has locked herself, two cats, and one small mouse in the small bathroom.

That woman is me.

I have a lump on my head—don’t ask, it happened during one of my attempts to leap lithely upon the toilet and the overhead cabinet decided to foul me. I am NOT afraid of the mouse; I was just trying to give the cats ample floor space—as I said, it’s a small bathroom-- in which to pursue—AND HOPEFULLY PLEASE GOD, CATCH-- the mouse. Truly.

The mouse is zipping with lightning speed around and around the bathroom, occasionally eyeing me as though he’d like to join me on my perch. I fend him off with the broom. The cats watch this interaction closely, but don’t seem to want to interfere. I offer several helpful suggestions to my precious pets in measured, dulcet tones.

The lump on my head throbs. The cats poke at the mouse sporadically. The mouse achieves several land speed records and becomes a mere blur. I’m pretty sure it’s not my head injury.

Then the mouse is gone.

I have a lump on my head, it’s 3 a.m. and SOMEHOW THE STUPID CATS HAVE LET THE MOUSE OUT OF A LOCKED BATHROOM! I CAN’T DO EVERYTHING CATS! I’M ALREADY STANDING ON THE TOILET WITH A BROOM AND A CELLPHONE SCREAMING “THERE IT IS, GET IT, GET IT,” WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED???

Narrator voice: They needed---OMG GET IT, GET IT, GET IT!!!

Scene: Some indeterminate time later.

Annie to the rescue!

AHA! I am the successful knocker-outer of RABID MEECE! I AM THE UNDESPUTED HEAVY, WELTERWEIGHT CHAMPION! I AM SUE, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE! I AM—sorry, was I yelling? I am She Who Must Be Reckoned With! She who wields her broom and yardstick to the terror of all who would invade her Queendom and threaten the peace of her castle! They WILL FEEL HER WRATH! BE PREPARED TO MEET THY MAKER, STUPID MOUSE--via a quick flush of the princessly potty. Because I am nothing if not resourceful!

Scene: It is 3:41 a.m. and the castle prepares for sleep. The Very Bad Cats have been granted a pardon and fed treats. Because the disappearing mouse was, in fact, not disappeared, but hiding under the bathroom scale. Annie found it and stayed on the job until I figured it out, no matter how many unkind things I said about her, her heritage, and her skill set. Also, the scale the mouse was hiding under was clear glass. So, there’s that.

Mousecapades: Of Mice and Women

I live in the country, surrounded by fields and streams and trees and other assorted items of the natural world--including varmints. In my daily life, the varmints that cause me the most concern are usually elk, followed by moles, the occasional mosquito, perhaps a raccoon or six; once in a while, a coyote will menace my neighborhood. I’m thankful for the big, --sometimes slobbery --neighborhood dogs that keep the coyotes mostly at bay, and are also gentle with my cats. So thankful, in fact, that I often feed the dogs crunchy dog biscuits on my doorstep. They make my doorstep a bit messy at times, but no worries, I’m not afraid of a few crumbs.

I am also not afraid of mice. I feel like it’s important you know that about me. While I am not afraid of mice, I am also not fond of them. I don’t care how cute they are. Fortunately for me, the house I live in is a secure, mouse-free environment and rarely, if ever, do I have occasion to interact with them. Which is also fortunate for the mice, as it turns out.

My cats are, by agreement, supposed to keep me safe from mice.

Or so I thought.

Abby

I’ve learned to give my Abbycat a little kitty pat-down before I let her in the house, so that I can thwart any attempt to smuggle kitty-contraband indoors. If I don’t do this, she will release her Catch of the Day indoors, where she can hunt it later—in comfort and at her leisure. I never have to worry about Anniecat, as she is almost always in my lap or snoozing on the sofa.

Annie

What I haven’t learned to do IS KEEP THE DANG DOOR SHUT SO THAT MICE SEEKING CRUNCY DOORSTEP CRUMBS DON’T ENCOUNTER AN OPEN DOOR AND DECIDE TO VENTURE IN.

Total disclosure: I’m not for sure exactly HOW the mouse got in the house. I know I did leave the door open for an indeterminate period of time when I was doing onequickthingrealquick outside. Perhaps the mouse ran in on its’ own. Perhaps Abby brought it in while I was distracted by an unexpected visit from an old friend in the midst of my onequickthingrealquick. Perhaps Annie—nah. Not Annie.

Anyway, my point is: mouse, house, 3 a.m. AND I AM NOT AFRAID OF A STUPID DANG MOUSE. I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!

Narrator voice: I’m not sure that was a roar, exactly

Mousecapades: Learning Curve

I was going to title this “Mouse Escapades” but “escapades” looks too much like “escape” –NO SPOILERS PLEASE!

I don’t have a dog, but that’s ok, because my various neighbors have various dogs and I get to enjoy them vicariously. These big, fierce dogs are sweetly protective of me and—in appreciation of their efforts-- I occasionally, perhaps often, give them crunchy li’l dog biscuits. Which they crunch. Appreciatively.

Sometimes, this appreciative crunching causes crumbs, but hey—no problem. I can tolerate a few crumbs on my doorstep, no biggie, right? Good doggies!

Narrator voice: Crumbs are, in fact a biggie. Crumbs draw mice...appreciative mice, but mice none the less...And doorways are sometimes left open. DOT DOT DOT, foreshadow.

Abby & Annie, snuggle cats.

I don’t have dogs, but I do have two cats. These are small, sweet cats whose job it is to protect me from mice. It’s not a difficult job—my house was built to be draft proof, which translates into mouse-proof. The only way a mouse can get into my house is through an open door, or if one of my VERY BAD CATS—I’m looking at you, Abby—brings one in.

Over the years I have learned—the hard way—not to recklessly fling open the door just because AbbyCat wants in. I’ve learned to block the door opening with my foot, then crack it open and give Abby a visual once-over before allowing her entrance. I haven’t gone as far as to require a body-cavity search before I allow her in, but I do make her turn out her pockets. AnnieCat rarely leaves the sofa, so she has never been subjected to a kitty pat-down. Perhaps this is an unwise, discriminatory practice. Perhaps this is kitty profiling. Perhaps.

The biggest learning curve I have—actually, it’s more of a non-learning flatline—is to NOT LEAVE THE DOOR OPEN when I run outside for just a minute, to do one quick little thing-- and the door is just open just a little bit, for just a moment, and oh, look, here’s one other little thing that I can do real quick like, and oh, hello old friend who has dropped by for just a moment to tell me one quick thing and we end up standing outside talking for a bit, but it was good to see you, goodbye, now what was I doing—oh yes. Chore, chore, real quick-like. Now back inside and oh, my. Did I really leave the door open that long? Oh well, no harm, no foul, no problem.

Narrator voice: There was, in fact, a problem...

Yes, to the Dress: MOG Edition

    Shopping for wedding dresses is a lot of fun. At least it is as the Mother of the Groom. My job is to sip champagne and admire the beauty of my son’s Beloved.

     This is not a hard job, because champagne is delightful and all my sons’ beloveds are as well. I would just like to point out here that if I had mis-punctuated the following plural possessive---instead of being inclusive of all of my daughters-in-law, I would have been leading you to believe that you were about to get a heads-up on the next season of The Bachelor Meets The Real Housewives of the ELC, Super Hair-Pulling Edition. Thankfully, this is not the case. Punctuation is important. Please use it responsibly.

    Mother-of-the-Groom (MOG) is a mostly ceremonial position. MOG advice on the internet usually boils down to “wear beige and keep your mouth shut.” That is excellent advice, probably, but I usually wear blue and make jokes. So far, it’s worked out for me. Perhaps because my sons have done such a lovely job of picking women of grace and tolerance, perhaps because my jokes are really funny. It’s likely both.

    Shopping for my MOG dress is fun but includes less bubbly. I’m not sure why this is so. I will ask the MOBs if this has also been their experience. Perhaps we will start a petition to get this to change.

   As MOG, my negotiated contribution to the wedding of the happy couple is to provide both the florals and the very talented—and highly susceptible to blackmail—floral designer. All I’m going to say about that is there was a very good reason why I keep all those notes back in high school. So far, they’ve saved me about $6k. Minus the fireproof safety deposit box fee, of course.

     I also provide the libations on the Happy Occasion, so I feel that I have contributed to the happiness of all. That fact that I can also add to the contents of my safety deposit box is purely serendipitous, I assure you.

Please enjoy these gratuitous wedding pictures
Circa 1986 Sue & Shane