It’s Day 15 of shelter in place at the O’Folks Home, counting from the Sunday after we flew back from Florida. We are both still free of any of the red-flag symptoms of Covid-19, and I’m pretty sure we owe that to the fact that we’ve stayed in our little red house virtually 24/7 since our return. It’s not that we never leave; I go out periodically to stretch my legs and get some air, and we’ve both gone out a handful of times to buy necessary supplies. That’s pretty much it, though; we don’t eat out any more, we’ve stopped making trips to the convenience store for cookies or chips, and I haven’t been to a book store since we came back, not that they’ve been open.
My Darling B made a trip to the co-op for groceries yesterday. We usually shop at the Willy Street Co-Op, a small neighborhood cooperative in Madison where they seem to be doing their best to make shopping for groceries as safe as possible. They open at ten o’clock and the first hour is reserved for senior citizens and people who are immunocompromised. Two people stand at the door, counting noses, and let only 30 people into the store at a time. At eleven o’clock they start letting in anybody else, but allow only 50 at a time to enter. You have to stand three feet back from the counters and bag your own groceries.
After B got back from shopping, she burned her clothes and took a shower. Kidding. She didn’t burn her clothes, but she did immediately take a long, hot shower. Then we put away the dozen or so bags of groceries she brought home with her. I think we can hunker down with the food we have for at least a month, if it came to that. I don’t think it will. I think it’ll get bad, but not so bad we won’t be able to go out at all. But I might be wrong about that.
This Is Drivel 