Sheltering- First Covid Haircut

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“I need a haircut.” Not on a protest sign, a desperate plea in our own home. Gary thought a cut was long overdue and yesterday he finally succumbed and allowed me to get the scissors out. It was with great trepidation that he sat in the kitchen, shirtless, while I wielded the scissors normally reserved for Scruffy. My little dog has no teeth and a fragile jaw so I “groom” him; and now I was going to groom Gary.

Knowing that Gary is particular and more than a little vain, I took care to clip only the back of his head. Then he had to check in the mirror. Next were the instructions on how he wanted the hair he combs to the side trimmed. After that and no major disaster, he described what must be done to the other side. Not too much later he was satisfied, no small feat on my part. Gary was actually delighted because he’d expected to look bad.

The result.

In the day, people did things for themselves. I cut my Dad’s hair, I cut Mum’s, I even cut my brother’s in the late sixties, although the result gave him a distinct resemblance to Friar Tuck. The home salon experience didn’t end there. In our farming community in the 50’s and 60’s, home perms were beyond popular. I remember Richard Hudnut and Toni brand names and Prom may have been another. The one Mum favoured came in a pink box. She lent out her “perm rods” and was sought out for her skill in using them. Everyone looked like a poodle because the resulting “curls” were tight and their ends burned by the harsh ammonia. The “permanent wave” never loosened and needed re-doing in about 4 months.

Our neighbour, Julia, was a big fan of Toni.

I liked doing friends’ hair and it was an economy. The salon was for very special occasions. One of the last times I gave a “perm”, my girlfriend and I got into her husband’s gin. When he came home to the odour, two tipsy women, and a wife with hair like a frizzed Brillo pad, he was furious. Fortunately, when my friend’s hair was “set” and dried, it looked fine.

“I need a haircut.” Next time I hear Gary say this, I’ll be a little nervous. I shouldn’t have done such a good job; the bar is now set high. All the same, I was glad to see the we could still “do for ourselves.” It was a time honoured tradition that people are re-discovering as they stay home. It’s nice to be fussed over and looked after. Estheticians and stylists provide a service but in these times, you can “do it yourself.” Stay safe.

Sheltering- And the Nutters

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“I want a haircut.” – Sign carried by a protestor in Toronto. A haircut. Is this what it’s come to? No one is excited by the prospect of a missed summer. Here, in Alberta, all festivals, stampedes, and exhibitions will be re-scheduled for 2021. Covid 19 is taking its toll socially.

Such a serious oppression.

Yet, we need to shelter in place and be patient in the new reality. Getting the virus or passing it to others isn’t the answer. Our biggest challenge looms. Summer will be solitary and different. Camping, travel, and visiting will be restricted. Winter is long and we yearn for summer.

Yesterday I had a google hangouts visit with my 9 year old granddaughter. “I did 4 hours of school work,” she said. “Dad showed me where the work was but now I’m caught up.”

She thought for a moment. “I wish I could go to school. I miss my friends.”

“I miss my friends, too,” I said. And I miss not being able to visit my grandkids and my adult kids. When we get together, there are only 6 of us but it’s loud with a lot of laughter. Who wouldn’t miss that? My friends and I are a certain vintage but that just makes the conversation more irreverent and entertaining. Opinionated, funny, and perhaps wise.

“I need a haircut.” That is a petty, spoiled attitude and I fervently hope that the protests in Canada don’t spread. We are privileged, I am privileged, but the threat of Covid 19 is real. I will continue to stay home and like my granddaughter, “I miss my friends.”

Sheltering…The Little Things

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“There are still lots of things you can do.” Dr. Hinshaw, Alberta’s Chief Medical Officer said yesterday as she tried to mitigate the disappointment that some of her announcements created. Festivals have been cancelled, the Calgary Stampede and Edmonton’s K-days, and we are still restricted to gatherings of 15 or less and at those, you are to be spaced out 2 metres apart.

An example. My grandson came across an inflatable Star Wars kite I’d given him some time ago that he’d never flown. Although he’s just turned thirteen, it was a novelty to fly it for the first time. Kite flying, going for walks, and gardening are still good activities.

A friend wrote in an email that she had finally decided to take her husband up on an offer to walk and look at a beaver dam. (The original offer, made sometime ago, was rejected.) The outcome? It was a good walk and the dam was more interesting than she’d imagined. I quote, “the poplars were cut straight but the beaver turned the multi-branched willows into sculptures.”

This morning on the dog walk, Taz, the Jack Russell, almost caught a gopher. What she would have done if she had, is a whole different question. Then on our way through the trees, a bush bunny crossed the path. Taz was on it like a flash and the chase was on. Scruffy and I caught up with her once the rabbit had made its escape.

Enjoying the sun…and it’s now clouded up…

After lunch we sat in the backyard in the sun. It wasn’t hot but sheltered enough to make it pleasant and Gary had put our patio furniture out. While I raked a flower bed and cleaned the birdbath and the dog’s outdoor water dish, Scruffy snoozed on a chair or raced to help Taz defend against passing canines and other imminent danger.

So we have to take pleasure in the little things. These mundane occurrences brightened my day. Later on, the big event will be when our groceries are delivered. More exciting than you’d think. Stay at home and enjoy the small diversions.

Sheltering- A Little Excitement

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As the self isolation becomes more of a drag even though I know it’s inconvenience and inconvenience only, I look for things to do. So does Gary. Since the choices open are few, we took another walk through the bush looking for antlers. If a deer, elk, or moose lost antlers this year, you couldn’t prove it by me.

The dogs have no problem with the same activity. They are as excited to get in the truck as they were initially. We did see a white tail deer in the distance on the way out and a couple of mule deer with their distinctive spring-spring gait and coming back. Maybe it’s the fresh air, it could be the wind, or perhaps it was tripping over fallen trees, stumbling in tangled shrubs, or dry twisted grass. Whatever the reason, we all had naps.

A Whitetail deer on her way…

About 2:00 a convoy of cars, trucks, and SUVs drove past, horns honking. The teachers and staff from the local schools had organized a “drive-by” visit for the students they were missing and who were missing them. Across the street, three or four kids sat on a step waving and enjoying the moment of connection.

A great idea. Many of the vehicles were decorated or bore signs identifying the school their drivers were from. The staccato of horns made a simple drive-by into an event. The Wainwright Fire and Rescue with lights flashing and sirens brought up the rear. Everyone, Gary, Scruffy, Taz, and me watched until they were gone.

Hand lettered sign bore messages of encouragement like, “We are not gone,” and “We’ll be back.” In an day when the time was dragging, a simple idea cheered everyone. Teachers, students, and town residents. Things will get back to a new normal. It is an inconvenience not to be able to run to the store, to go for coffee, or eat in a restaurant. It’s a little boring but not fatal, so I’ll stay home and if Gary suggests more walks in the bush, I’ll go.

Sheltering…Another Covid Birthday

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Thirteen years old. It’s a big birthday; an entrance to the teen years. Only a little over a month ago, my big worry was what to buy my grandson. Something special? Or give him some birthday money?

The reality?? I texted his Dad to see if I should make an e-transfer. I could have gotten something from Amazon but grandmas and thirteen-year-old tastes don’t have a big overlap. In the end, I didn’t even send a card. My grandson may be thirteen but he’s pretty mature and his Dad explained that when the time is right, we’ll be together and we’ll get the gifts and have a belated celebration.

So…a thirteenth birthday can’t go totally unremarked. This morning, I made a video featuring me and the dogs. I sang “Woof, woof,” for them. I don’t think they get videos or singing. A bit later, Gary got his guitar and we sang Happy Birthday again. This time, me (not the best singer and the key was kind of high) and Gary, with the dogs nodding along. I kind of hope my grandson got a laugh. He texted a great thank you back…

Everyone needs a little humour on their birthday.

This afternoon, his Dad sent pictures of his birthday cheesecake, his birthday bbq, and the birthday hug from his nine-year old sister. The expression on his face is so long suffering I laughed aloud. All the same, his family made the effort to show him he’s loved and to make the day special as it can be.

Thirteen. My grandson is a teenager. During normal times we’d have gone to the city this Saturday, had a very nice home cooked meal, and stayed overnight. In the morning we might have gone to The Moose Factory for brunch. A great place for kids because there’s no waiting and thirteen is still a kid. One of these days, when the pandemic is settled, we’ll do it.

Sheltering…A Small Getaway

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22 shooting victims in Nova Scotia, nearly 29,000 confirmed cases of Covid 19 in Canada. The virus ravishing assisted care facilities. The news is beyond grim and there is nothing an ordinary individual can do. Some of us have begun to avoid the updates that seem to come every minute.

This morning I was “invited”, along with the dogs on a shed hunt. We drove into the boonies, literally the sticks, to look for deer (whitetail or mule), elk, and moose antlers. Before we got to our destination, we drove up on a pair of Sandhill Cranes. They are big birds and I rued not bringing the ‘better’ lens for my camera. Despite my “sneak” along side the truck, I didn’t get close and soon they flew off, squawking in protest.

Obviously, not my picture- but a shot of a Sandhill Crane.

Parts of the walk through the bush were pleasant, we were sheltered from the ever-present wind and the ground was clear of underbrush. That was until we left for the wilder part of the woods where antlers were waiting to be found. We tramped through the trees, stumbling over fallen logs, avoiding branches swishing back from the lead walker, and avoiding piles of moose scat. Taz ran and ran; Scruff picked his way. The humans did not find any shed antlers.

Not 2020 but the kind of terrain we walked.

We made one more stop on the way home. The dugout. Gary claims to have found a number of small moose paddles here before. Again no shed antlers but Gary did spy a ruffed grouse down in the bush. I tried for a picture but was too late. Taz beat me to it. It doesn’t matter because there were too many branches to get a clear shot. So the shot was a Jack Russell bum.

Now we are home and both dogs are sound asleep on the loveseat beside me. I have checked social media and I could cry for Nova Scotia, for the oil and gas workers, the small business owners, all those who have lost jobs. I could cry for all the victims of this virus and for the frontline workers who struggle through exhaustion to provide them with care. There isn’t much I can do. Stay home and wash my hands. I am doing that and tramping through the bush is a way to deal with the overwhelming, horrifying news. Stay well.

A little update…technical difficulties mean I lost today’s pictures. 😦 The pictures used are stock from the internet or those from another day. Note to self…remove camera card before battery pack than needs recharging. I looked at data recovery apps- I don’t feel like paying for a few pictures that were in need of a good photoshopping (not something in my skill set,) anyway.

Sheltering- Covid Wiener Roast

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October 6, 2019 I wrote a blog about The Last Wiener Roast. It was a sunny, windy day and our biggest concern was the coming winter. Skip ahead to April 19, 2020 and the first wiener roast of the season. No one could have predicted this new world.

Besides the pandemic, spring has been slow to arrive in Alberta. Temperatures are 10 degrees or so cooler than normal so when the forecast was for seasonal warmth, we got out the package of “gourmet” wieners, added pork and beans and a couple of knives and headed out.

Of course, the dogs came and although they didn’t know the significance of having a fire and eating al fresco, they were up for any activity. We wandered around; the grass is still brown, there are still patches of snow and the trees are bare as they bend in the wind. Gary was excited because he discovered new places to “sit and wait for a deer or moose to pass by”come hunting season.

Gary at the “beach.”

I saw a Mourning Cloak butterfly. They are dark, with pretty blue markings on the margin of their wings and are the first butterflies to appear in spring. They are tough. There were geese honking and Gary saw a turkey vulture. Small moths fluttered around bare branches of trees. A brilliant blue bluebird flitted by.

We sat on lawn chairs in a hollow out of the wind. It was almost like the beach except that the white substance was snow. Taz played and chased a ball or chewed sticks. She was so delighted that her little tail was a blur. Scruff found a place on the coats Gary and I had taken off and dozed in the sun.

A very simple afternoon but one that made the pandemic seem far away. We forgot it for a while and enjoyed the spring sun. When it was time to go, we doused the fire with snow from the “beach.” Everyone was tired; I think it was the fresh air. Take a break if you can; whatever way that is safe and suits you. It was worth it.

Sheltering – the New Covid Shopping Needs

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Toilet Paper? Passé. Hand sanitizer? Soap and water work very well. Yeast? Bread and baking aren’t as easy or fun as YouTube makes it look. Jigsaw puzzles and coffee? Stocked up.

The latest things flying off the shelves are hair products and exercise equipment. Some people are even trying the No Poo look if they aren’t shampooing their hair as much. If you don’t see other people…the theory is sebum glands readjust and don’t produce as much oil. Warning: there is a transition period. Exercise equipment? Well, you just can’t go out to the gym now, can you?

Barbells are big sellers. Some gyms are renting stationary bikes so that you can sweat and stay in shape in your home. Shelter at home; exercise at home. Some trainers stream their routines so that clients can work out just as they had pre-covid, only now they do it by themselves, in front of the tv.

People are coping by taking action. There isn’t much you can do about the virus except wash your hands, stay home, and avoid any place where you might run into people. These are such passive ways of dealing with the danger of the pandemic. Shopping for “survival” needs is a more active way of trying to maintain control.

At night when I’m supposed to be sleeping, the surreal images and messages of covid 19 invade my thoughts. Then I become anxious, worrying I should be wiping down this, bleaching that, or maybe completely withdrawing from the world.

It turns out some of my fears are foundation-less. The clothes you wear are porous and don’t hold viruses well. Those that might fall onto a coat or other clothing likely last at most 24 hours. The fat component of their capsule breaks down. Unless you are a frontline worker. Regular laundering will get rid of any covid.

Newspapers, books, etc. that come into the house are quite safe. The virus transfer to their surfaces is small and they don’t last. If you’re worried, leave the cardboard or paper products for 24 hours and you’re sure.

Outdoors little currents of air carry droplet-containing particles away from you. When walking or jogging, you set up these little eddies and the virus doesn’t get a chance to settle. Stay six feet away from others and you’re safe.

Your shoes? Wiping them down just spreads bacteria, fecal particles (you were outside) and other organic “stuff” around. Sneakers and footwear like that can be laundered.

It looks as though the pandemic will last a while so if people cope with exercise (or the purchase of exercise equipment), with less hair washing, and more baking, good for them. The main thing is that they’re coping. As for me?? I think I’ll have a nap.

Sheltering – Covid Creativity or…

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The theory of gravity, the theory of optics, the invention of calculus. For a year and a half in quarantine during the Black Plague, Sir Issac Newton used his time wisely.

Shakespeare, penned King Lear, Macbeth, and Cleopatra. Check your Facebook feed. People are using this time of self isolation to create wonderful things.

The pressure is on. If you can’t be at work, if you can’t meet with friends, if you can’t ‘go shopping’, then why aren’t you coming up with some unique insight into quantum mechanics? Perhaps if physics isn’t your thing, you’d like to write pandemic poetry or branch out into music and develop the covid chorus.

Do you have bright idea??

People have taken to cleaning. If these are our final days do you really want to spend them cleaning?? Or organizing your wardrobe? Or putting that spare room in order? The stories of these activities only increase my own anxiety.

I do have a novel, written a couple of years ago that is partly re-written and edited. Is it the next Great Canadian Novel?? Chances are, no. Could I use this time to make it as good as it can be? Yes. Am I? No. I could clean. As Anne of PEI said (and I paraphrase) “It doesn’t leave much scope for imagination.” Could I work on a bit of art? (I have started painting watercolours). But I don’t.

I’m trying to break the habit of trolling in social media to see if the pandemic is breaking or if we are all facing the end of the world. That leaves me in a peculiar state of lethargy. Sitting here, imagining all the things I could accomplish, yet not motivated to move.

Newton and Shakespeare were geniuses, people. Cut yourself some slack. These are extraordinary times but it doesn’t mean you have to accomplish something phenomenal. If the laundry piles up a bit, if the floor gets a little sticky, if the rug could use a vacuum, don’t worry. It’ll wait for you. If you, too, have the great Canadian novel waiting for an edit. Relax. When the time is right, you’ll get to it. Not everyone is going to come out of the pandemic with works of great creativity. And that’s okay. Stay safe.

Sheltering- and complaining

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Cobble Hill Jigsaw Puzzles?? Hair products?? Coffee?? Nail technicians? Hair stylists. All things that are in short supply or who’s non-essential designations cause inconveniences. When will things be back to normal? The short answer is not for quite a while. Patience.

Cobble Hill makes good quality jigsaw puzzles and in these days of self-isolation, can’t keep up with demand. An old and simple pastime is popular again. Hair products fly off the shelves because people are reduced to, gasp, looking after their own grooming. It is a skill and if you were dependent on the professionals, you could be sporting a new look. It’s a similar situation with nails, manicures and pedicures. Coffee is in even more demand because people working at home can have it when they want, sip on it, even as they work.

I’m old so it made me reflect. When I was a kid on the farm, in winter we’d get snowed in for weeks at a time. The groceries were what Mum had canned or preserved. No one complained; we weren’t hungry and it was what we knew. There was no electricity, at first no central heating (there was the woodpile and the coal shed storing fuel for the heating my Dad kept going), no telephone. We may have had a battery operated radio. Mum cooked, cleaned, looked after us kids. Dad went out to feed and water the livestock. Any spare time in the evening might be spent reading or in Mum’s case knitting. Any of these activities were by the light of the coal oil (kerosene) lamp. It was cold in winter and cold in the poorly insulated houses. Water was carried in by the bucketful.

I am not reflecting on my childhood with any kind of regret. It was great and no one felt deprived. When we could get together, people visited, they got out the fiddle or accordion and created music, they cooked food for guests. Community gathering were events but they didn’t occur often. My brother (now deceased for a while) and I often reminisced about how good times were.

I confess. I have felt the isolation, too, and may not have handled it as well as I could. Sharp objects in the kitchen glint with a certain attraction when Gary and I are there together. He announces everything he is going to do. Everything. This is the man who couldn’t stand his freedom infringed upon when we first married.

Cobble Hill Puzzles? I confess. I’ve done some 100 piece on-line versions and they take me half an hour. Cross genius off my resume. Hair? Not a problem for me. Nails, nope. Coffee; oh, I do like coffee. Seeing friends and family; definitely miss that. If I think of the isolation for my mum and dad, I have to stop whining. Things could be worse and the pandemic will be over. Just not for a while.