Erin's Journals

Monday, March 23, 2020

Just a thought… Believe that all things are mentionable and also manageable. [Mr. Rogers]

Hello! Welcome to another week that is quite likely to feel like a month. We can do this.

To the most important things first: we’ve counted our toilet paper rolls and there are six. We’ll be fine. When we moved in three years ago we installed a bidet attachment in our bathroom, so that cuts down on paper use a whole lot.

I’ve been reluctant to tell you I have a bidet because that may well be TMI and might also subject us to judgment, but we’ve had them now the past four places we’ve lived. To some it sounds overly posh, but for many people (like in Japan) it’s as normal as having a sink. So there you go (just not in the sink).

Got a handy person in your house? You can order them online or get them at your big box hardware store. The heated seat is a lovely option, too. Saves having to get your servants to warm it for you first, as they used to do back in the day of stone toilets, like the ones we saw in Turkey on a trip a few years back. (You remember travel, don’t you?) 

Photo courtesy atlasobscura.com.

As our travels ended and for obvious reasons, we didn’t bring booze home from California. Although Rob doesn’t have an allergy to alcohol like I do, he’s stayed solid in his support for me. I encourage him to imbibe when he wants, but he doesn’t want. But we did bring this.

Look at that low price! We bought it last year so that I could refill my little purse hand-sani for a trip to Vegas (whose strip was DARK Friday night for the first time since JFK’s assassination). Who knew this bottle would be more precious than Grey Goose vodka?

Speaking of which, there are lots of online meetings for those who are finding sobriety challenging these days. Now, more than ever, we need connection. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought well, maybe, but then I remember a million reasons NOT to drink, not the very least of which is that it compromises your immune system. Hugely.

I’m really tired of the constant tweets and memes about drinking. I get it. I haven’t lost my sense of humour (as you see by my posts). People want to escape and have an end-of-the-world party in their house every single day (that is, if they’re not stupidly having friends over)! But for God’s sake, it’s tough enough dealing with the everyday stress and anxiety.

I won’t, but I want to say Stop freaking tweeting about your wine/tequila/coronavirus cocktails and panicking over whether liquor stores are essential services. Some of us are just trying to get through this one day at a time.

I had a bit of an anxiety meltdown Saturday trying to find a store to deliver groceries; every one that has pickup (which we can’t do til the 2nd of April anyway – if we venture out then among the COVIDiots who refuse to take precautions) or delivery is several days’ wait.

Yesterday we got two angel drop-offs: Nancy and husband Charles from Sidney brought us five full bags from the grocery store. Right down to my Cadbury mini eggs! I could have cried. And then, there at our door were my aunt and uncle, who dropped off some flash-frozen fish they caught in northern BC last year. OMG! Halibut and chips tonight!

And just as I write this, another friend has offered to do our next grocery run. How lucky we are! We’ve offered the same to our neighbours who are in their 80s/90s and hope to be able to help them when we’re out and about. We all have to do our part and stay safe, keep a distance and yet build connections.

It hasn’t escaped our attention that knowing so very few people where we live (or at least knowing them well enough to ask for help or to expect an offer of it) has not been a good thing for us AT ALL. I always thought that if one of us was left here alone (permanently) we’d have few people to lean on.

Of course, I don’t think a pandemic figured into any of our “worst-case scenarios.” This is going to change a lot of people for good, and hopefully for the better.

I’ll be back here with you tomorrow, and thank you again.

Rob WhiteheadMonday, March 23, 2020