Erin's Journals

Just a thought… Sometimes we get so caught up in trying to accomplish something big, that we fail to notice the little things that give life its magic. [Angel Chernoff]

This should feel like a bit of a freedom day for Rob and for me: two weeks ago we began our Canadian self-isolation and our 14 days are up. I’d been self-isolating for two weeks prior to that in California, as I had a bit of a cough and didn’t want to scare other people.

Something I learned from Stephen Colbert the other night: the etymology of the word “quarantine.” From Wikipedia:

The word quarantine comes from quarantena, meaning “forty days,” used in the 14th-15th-century Venetian language and designating the period that all ships were required to be isolated before passengers and crew could go ashore during the Black Death plague epidemic.

By the way, the late night shows are back. I’m loving that we can see the humorous moments, even in some of the most horrific events in our history, through the eyes of the hosts and their teams of writers. It’s the only way I can digest what is happening, and saves me from having to watch any of Trump’s podium rallies.

“#1 on Facebook,” he bragged like a nine-year-old the other day. Not only is that a lie (as if it matters, because President Obama has far more FB followers), but just think of how ridiculous he sounded saying it.

“New tone” or not, it’s still mindboggling that this malignant narcissist is at the helm and spewing his garbage. As I say, thankfully, someone else is watching it for us. Torontonian and former Star reporter Daniel Dale, now a Trump fact-checker, should get danger pay. And free therapy.

Come to think of it, that’s what we could all use these days. When we look back at the end of January, we’re almost certain that Rob had a case of the coronavirus. Of course, we don’t know for sure, but he was sicker than he could ever remember being: exhausted, coughing and, although he didn’t have a thermometer, a suspected fever.

At that time, I was in Ottawa and not around to help or catch it from him, but I can’t remember him being that sick. Given that he’d been in a local casino just prior to that, with its cesspool of germ-laden buttons and surfaces, and people who’d come from who-knows-where, it’s entirely possible that’s where he picked up a bug.

If that’s the case, then the incubation period was fast – less than three days. In retrospect, it seems possible, as it appears this virus is affecting people with varying intensities. If it was COVID-19, we’re very fortunate, we know. And we’re still exercising extreme caution. 

We want to give blood. We want to go grocery shopping. Those two things, I think we can do with the proper precautions. We have a package to pick up at the post office after a Canada Post worker inexplicably left a notice at our front door earlier this week – without ringing the doorbell – when we were both inside the house (which he or she might have expected).

Perhaps that’s the new protocol for the people on the front lines and, if so, we respect it – completely. But we weren’t looking forward to going anywhere except to pick up a few supplies: a turkey dinner seems to be in our immediate future.

I received a video that I thought was well worth sharing. In it, a store employee outlines what she needs from US and everything in this is a solid reminder of how to protect and conduct ourselves during the rare outings we make. Here’s a link.

Please take a few minutes to watch and share this informative and entertaining video, and thanks for coming by. Tomorrow – yes, another Saturday journal on the way – I’m going to treat you to a few pictures of our six-month old baby banana granddaughter Jane that I think will take your mind off all of our worries, if only for a moment or two.

Stay safe, stay sane. We can do this.

Just a thought… Obedience is an act of faith; disobedience is the result of unbelief. [Edwin Louis Cole]

Or, Mr. Cole, defiance and stupidity?

Fines. Big fines. Being levied against people like an acquaintance of my friend Lisa, who got slapped with $1000 tag for taking his kids to the playground. On the surface (which is where the viruses live) this might seem heavy-handed. But nope. The rules are there for all of us, and who knows who played there, or left their germy germs all over the swing chains and slide ladder?

Then there are the five guys who were sharing a bottle of vodka at 2 in the afternoon at a TTC bus stop in Toronto, all hit with fines of $880.

Did these bozos think that somehow that MYTH about vodka disarming the COVID-19 virus (it doesn’t – even the highest proof vodka isn’t strong enough) was true? Yeah, vodka can solve a lot of problems (although I’m here to tell you it causes a LOT more), but that’s not true about the germ killing. They’ve found out the hard way that they, too, have to obey the rules.

Meantime, down in Florida, their alleged governor has agreed to allow in 49 FLORIDIANS who’ve been stranded off shore on the Holland America cruise ship the Zaandam. Not even the other Americans, just the people from his state, will be allowed to get off.

If he ever knew about it, Ron DeSantis is forgetting entirely the way Newfoundland took in more planes and stranded passengers than anyone could have imagined they’d handle – but they did so, and beautifully. Maybe someone could take him to a theatre when this is all over to see the hit show that tells the story of those dark days after 9/11. Although, this meme perhaps says it best now…

I shared that with a producer of the show, who sent it on to others in Newfoundland, who got a big hoot out of it. But we all know they’d still welcome people – including a shipload of non-Canadians – if they were asked to. It’s called doing the right thing.

Ron DeSantis is not even “America First” like his DC hero, Cheetolini. He’s Florida First. Now, down the road – especially the I-75 and I-95 – will this have an effect on snowbirds’ plans to visit the panhandle state in the future? Or any other Americans’, for that matter?

Because if public opinion counts for anything, this guy, who’s been dragging his feet on limiting public gatherings and closing beaches like the mayor of Amity Island in JAWS, deserves to be the next meal at Joe Exotic’s nice little zoo, whatever has become of it.

I’m referring here to Tiger King, the docu-series that dropped on Netflix last week and was so widely bingewatched that the name of a woman in the series was trending on Twitter on Saturday night. That made Rob and me hurry to watch the entire trainwreck; we didn’t want it to be spoiled for us before we’d seen it.

So let me tell you about Tiger King. It’s about a guy who is bat guano crazy and runs an exotic animal farm in Oklahoma. He sets his sights on a woman who runs an animal “rescue” park (you’ll know why the quotation marks if you see this show) in – of course – Florida.

Everybody’s got guns. Somebody loses half an arm. A rich husband is missing and rumours abound that he was some big cats’ satisfying snack (or he’s buried somewhere nearby). It’s as if Honey Boo Boo opened a zoo. Absolutely starkers, as our British friends say.

I don’t know how my brain recovered from watching a mini-series about snappy Broadway geniuses Bob Fosse and Gwen Verdon one night to witnessing the gooberific spectacle of Tiger King the next, but it has, I think.

The whole time I’m watching the latter, I’m thinking: This – this is how Trump got elected. But many of the bat-guano-craziest of the bunch – some of whom have more wives and husbands than they do teeth (and I am not kidding about that, thanks to meth) – claim to be Libertarians. Gimme my guns, my gums, my tigers and my meth, and leave the gubmint out of it. Just let me be.

As desperate as some of those poor souls on the ship off Florida are to disembark every single minute, do they really want to get out there?

I’ll be back with you here tomorrow. I’m thinking of so many people who are suffering these days – especially the good people in and around Bobcaygeon, a town that captured my heart summer after summer. My heart is with yours.

Just a thought… Write what you love. Love will hold you through the hard times and hold the world during the good times. [Mark Z. Danielewski]

April Fool’s?!? I can’t even go there. Not today, pranksters, not today.

Instead, what I’ll do is give you a link to a new piece I wrote for Silken Laumann’s inspirational website. What’s the four-time Olympian rower been up to? Here’s a piece from a news release that came out just over a year ago:

“Silken Laumann reveals UNSINKABLE, a story-sharing platform to empower Canadians to walk the talk when it comes to mental health. UNSINKABLE will host stories of courage, resiliency, transformation and the strategies behind the success. Canadians can expect stories from everyday Canadians, well-known Canadians, Canadian youth and Canadian health experts. 

Four-time Olympian, Silken Laumann reveals the official launch date of Unsinkable – a storytelling platform for Canadians to share stories that will empower other Canadians to greatness. (CNW Group/UNSINKABLE)

“Motivated by her own personal struggles and eventual triumph to greatness, Laumann dreamed of connecting and inspiring people through personal experiences on a large digital scale. The dialogue around mental health has shifted significantly since the launch of Bell Let’s Talk and UNSINKABLE will give Canadians strategies they can apply to everyday life.” You can visit weareunsinkable.com to dive in.

I was approached by Silken’s team to write a piece for them based on my book Mourning Has Broken: Love, Loss and Reclaiming Joy (HarperCollins Canada). What I came up with was the importance of remembering the person who’s gone – and how important it is to those of us left behind that her or his name is not forgotten. On her birthday. On the day of her passing. The big red-letter days in our lives that pass by so easily for everyone else.

I get it. Life has gone on, the world has kept turning. But this piece emphasizes how much it means when those we love remember the one we loved most of all.

The timing of the story’s release March 22 was chosen by the Unsinkable folks and was meant to coincide with the release of my book in softcover; it also came out just a few days before what should have been Lauren’s 29th birthday. As it is, this day marks three years since my sister’s son, my nephew Michael, died in a house explosion in Kelowna. To date, there’s been no progress in the arson/murder case that we’ve been made aware of, and as always we send my little sister love and strength.

But this is also a happy day: today Lauren’s (and now Brooke’s) husband Phil celebrates his birthday and we send him more love than Canada Post can carry. He’s a beautiful example of how to reclaim joy and Rob and I are immensely proud of this man and the loving, lovely family that embraces him today in Ottawa.

Here’s the story and thank you for sharing in our journey. Have a gentle day and I’ll be back with you tomorrow.

Just a thought… To think well and to obey someone giving good advice are the same thing. [Herodotus]

Welcome to Tuesday and the last week of this wicked month. I hope the day finds you well, keeping your mind and hands busy. And if you’re out there working on our behalf, thank you, thank you, thank you!

And as we’re seeing again and again in pictures posted on social media and in footage on the news, some people are just refusing to listen to the advice – the instructions – to stop gathering in groups and to stop endangering themselves and others.

In Tampa Bay, an idiot minister was arrested (and released immediately on $500 bond, undoubtedly still warm from his suckers’ – I mean followers’ – pockets) for holding services on Sunday in his mega church, even busing congregants to get there. Like lambs to the slaughter who believed this guy when he said he had a virus-killing air system. Where did he hear they exist – in a Trump tweet?

It reminded me of a story I’d like to share with you today as I attempt to bring some positivity here instead of letting myself sink into the depression that is only ever just a few dark thoughts away. It was a joke that Don Daynard told years ago, and I’m telling it in longer form here as more of a fable. Keep going to the bottom; there’s a special picture I shot yesterday from my chair.

One spring morning, upon awakening and seeing rushing rivers where his street should be, a man grabs his ladder and climbs up onto the dry roof of his house and watches in awe as the brown water inches up his siding.

“Please save me,” he prays to God.

Two hours later, as the water reaches the window sills of his second floor, a man in a yellow slicker comes by in a boat and shouts through the rain and the wind, “Climb down and get in! I’ll take you to dry land!”

The man on the roof shakes his head, explaining that God will save him, and waves off the man in the boat, who, bewildered, leaves to rescue a stranded neighbour.

That afternoon, as the rains continue to pelt and the winds roar, a woman in a powerboat pulls up to the man’s roofline, where the waters have now risen. “Come on – get in the boat and I’ll drive you to safety!”

The man shouts through the storm, “No, no…I’m staying here. God is going to save me!” So she shrugs and off she goes to rescue a grateful family waving frantically just three houses down.

Darkness descends and the relentless torrents bring river levels beyond the man’s eaves. Cold and murky water numbs his soaked feet and he shivers, crouched on a minuscule patch of roof yet spared from the rushing river. Through the storm, he can make out the droning motor of a boat coming his way; soon another would-be hero reaches out with an oar and implores the man to grab on and get in, man!

He stubbornly shakes his head and refuses the help, saying God will save him; the driver of the boat bows his head, waves and departs to find anyone else in peril.

A short time later, the waters completely swallow his house and the man drowns.

As he enters Heaven, he sees God. The man is angry and confused to have died, and can’t understand why he’s here.

Shaking his fist, he says to God, “I had faith in you! Why didn’t you save me?”

And God responds, “My son, I sent you THREE BOATS.”

Boats are everywhere. They’re not just ships named the USNS Comfort (amazed it wasn’t rechristened USNS TRUMP, to be honest) – they’re people offering advice and science and help to us all.

We have to take it. We have to listen. As CNN’s Don Lemon said on Sunday, believe in whomever or whatever you want, but “the virus doesn’t care who you worship.” There’s a lot of people out there trying to surf during this storm and it’s not going to end well for them, or the people with whom they come into contact.

Please stay safe, stay sane and stay dry. I’ll be back with you tomorrow.

And I’ll leave you with a picture of the man who’s rescued me more times than either of us can count, sitting editing our next podcast, as nature tried its best to distract him yesterday afternoon.

Just a thought… The two most powerful warriors are patience and time. [Leo Tolstoy]

Here we are together again, you and I, as I wish you a gentle Monday and hope that you’re faring okay. Not much new here except work as usual (more recording, editing, writing and so on). But the highlight of our last few days came when Rob and I had another blessed grocery delivery – this time from a friend who’s just moved nearby from up island (as we call it).

I could have cried just to see her face, so many metres from our front door. I still don’t think that other than for groceries, we’re going out when this self-isolation ends on Friday for us. Most Canadians appear to be listening and doing what we’re supposed to do.

Maybe it’s the fact we don’t have the luxury of strolling around a grocery store – something none of us will take for granted for a long while after this – that’s put food in the forefront of my mind.

When Louisa brought that precious grocery bag on Friday it contained not one, but two bags of potato chips. I can’t even tell you when I last had them in the house, but now I have to have them.

I dug into our cupboards yesterday, pulled out a tin of Bird’s custard powder and made a dessert that included several tablespoons of dry cocoa, so desperate is my craving for chocolate these days. Again, there’s no good reason for it, except that I can’t have it.

Heaven help me, we have a delivery coming in the next few weeks from Costco and it includes two big bags of Peanut M & Ms. You know, the ones in the so-called “resealable” sacs? Uh-oh. It’s going to take some serious won’t-power, or I’m going to be this gal.

Yes, I laughed aloud at that when I saw it (and posted it on Instagram @erindawndavis) yesterday. I hope you got a chuckle too.

I wonder: when this is over, will gyms look like the first Monday of the new year?

So many questions – bigger questions – and right now there appear to be few answers. A lot of people will be wondering how to make their rent payments on Wednesday and while the provincial governments are helping out in various ways, it’s still a matter of how and when.

And so we wait. For those of us who have the blessed luxury of not being the heroes on the outside helping the rest of us to make it through these hard and dangerous times, it’s a matter of doing our part by doing very little.

Thought of these words to the Beatles’ “Fool on the Hill” as I noodled yesterday on the piano looking out the windows toward the oceans and mountains:

Day after day

Alone in the house

Trying so hard to stay sane,

And just annoying my spouse

Nobody comes to see us

Or can talk to us at the door

‘Cause we can’t answer

Just the Fools on the Hill

Watch the news going down

And the eyes in our heads

See the world spinning round….

I’ll be back with you here tomorrow. Thanks for contributing to my sanity by sharing in these thoughts each day. It means a lot.