Cabin fever has definitely set in. As the director of a non-profit that I founded in 1993, I’m going out to serve the homeless but there is a Stay At Home Order, so our volunteers cannot accompany me. Because of the virus any volunteer could be infected and could pass it to unsuspecting volunteers or the homeless. It’s frustrating as hell because we could do so much more together.
So at the end of the 5th week and the beginning of the 6th, my routine is getting up early having some tea and toast, then doing yoga for forty minutes which is followed by a long meditation. Then I make myself an egg sandwich, and that is followed by reading any mail that has come in and sending replies when needed.
I can only sit behind a desk for a very short while, then I make an espresso and take my bike out for an endurance ride ranging around the neighborhood and ending up on Sugar Hill where the streets are wider and the homes are grander. Noticing most mask pedestrians walking, pushing baby carriages or talking into phones. Occasionally greetings are returned when another initiates them. It still looks surreal to me. The pocket park has a few rebellious young men playing basketball in two courts, but all the recreational swings and slides are still, and absent of children surrounded with orange tape.
Returning home, I check the two raised gardens that I’ve put in. One is for the Tomataro tomatoes which are the sweetest, most satisfying tomatoes I’ve ever had. The other is a bulb garden which will yield prolific blossoms all summer long. Neither need my attention.