When Covid Comes to Town by Jenn McKinlay

FIRST the winner of Lynn Cahoon's ebook giveaway is Libby Dodd! Congrats, Libby! Send your email address to Lynn at: 

lcahoon7@gmail.com 

and she'll sent your ebook!

Jenn McKinlay: You just don't think it's going to happen to you until the nasal swab says "You got the 'rona!" 

To clarify, this hasn't happened to me...yet. But two of my people are down and out with it. High fever, chills, sore throat, cough - otherwise known as "the works". One is already shaking it off but the other, a severe asthmatic, is laid low. I am spending my days away from home and cocooning myself in my office at night just in case someone needs an emergency ride to the ER. 

This is not how I pictured 2022 rolling out. When I picked the word "persist" as my word for the year, I wasn't issuing the universe a challenge. Sheesh! 

Still, if the past two years have taught me anything, it's that the Dalai Lama is right and we have to treat each other better than we have been. We have to start caring for strangers as we would our most precious loved ones and act accordingly.

Because, as I mentioned, one of us is a severe asthmatic, we got vaxxed and boosted as soon as we could, and have continued to wear masks in public and at work and school. Unfortunately the current strain of Covid is like a wildfire, hopping from house to house and burning everything in its path.

I am not a worrier by nature but I'm not gonna lie, when I look at my loved ones suffering high fevers and painful coughs and struggling to breathe, I'm nervous. Some thoughtless knucklehead brought this plague to work and infected my people. I've dealt with a lot of loss over the past two years, and I'm really not up for anymore. Really. Not. Up. For. It.

So, I'm going to go rogue here -- the Jungle Reds are by and large a sanctuary of non touchy subjects (mask - no mask - vax - no vax - what have you) but I'm going to have to go there -- and ask all of you to be careful out there. 

We value you as our friends, our community, and we would miss any of you should we lose you to this stupid plague. And so I ask you to please think about yourself, your loved ones, your friends, your neighbors and even the random stranger you don't know but who smiles at you just because, and consider what you can do to protect yourself and them, too. 

P.S. I'm writing this on Monday night so hopefully by the time it posts on Friday, we'll be in the clear or I'll be really sick - ugh! Yes, I'm posting my entire week right now in mid freak out. ACK!

Stay Well, Friends!

 

From Our Windows to Yours

DEBORAH CROMBIE: We have all been spending a lot of time looking out of our windows these last few weeks.  We are all trying to find little things to take pleasure in these days, the small moments of our lives, so we are, I think, paying more attention to what we see around us. And just knowing that others are having the same experience helps us feel connected.

I was absolutely riveted by a piece in last week's New York Times about just that. They asked seventeen New York artists to capture the view from their windows, and I've gone back and looked at these depictions over and over.

Of course we've also been having a fun bit of voyeurism, seeing into people's homes on  Instagram and Facebook videos (my favorite is writer and cookbook author David Leibovitz's daily cocktail hour from his apartment in Paris) but I also found it fascinating to see what people are seeing when they look out. So I thought it would be fun if we shared our views with you, and then perhaps you could describe in the blog comments what you see when you look out your window!

Here's my view from my living room window. This is what I see when I sit to chat on the phone, or to read. We live on a very busy corner so there are always people driving by, even in the lock-down, but now we are also seeing lots of people walking their dogs. And of course our dogs have to bark like mad at every single one.

And this is my view from my kitchen window, across the deck. Beyond the fence there is always traffic, but in a few weeks (assuming I can figure out how to get some flowers) it will be a little oasis outside our back door.

 LUCY BURDETTE: Debs, there is a new group on Facebook too called “the view from our window.” People from all over the world posting--it’s amazing and somehow reassuring. It’s so quiet here in Key West--none of the hustle bustle we’re used to. I think we are all feeling like T-bone in this view out our side deck--something very important and thrilling is out of reach!

I watched David Lebovitz this week--lots of fun! And I have to say that John and I have a running commentary on the state of reporters’ offices on the PBS Newshour. We’re pretty sure one guy must have gotten scolded by his wife and moved the camera to a vantage point that was less messy LOL!

HALLIE EPHRON: When I rolled up the shade in my office this morning, here’s what I saw. 

Seriously? We’ve had no snow all winter and now it decides to frost the forsythia and Japanese quince. You can see my office view is truncated - a fence between our property and our neighbor’s driveway. They’re great neighbors, with a baby and a toddler, swing set in the backyard. We’re surrounded by young families - we had a one-year-old when we bought our house from a woman who was in her 80s and had been here for 60 years.


RHYS BOWEN: I’m lucky in that I’m stuck at our winter home in Arizona where I live in a lovely little private community surrounded by mountains. So the view from my office window brings me delight as I work. I had to do a virtual tour for Goodreads this week so here’s the link for you to take a tour of my office and see my view

The one thing I don’t see is people or life going on. In fact the other day I was looking out and felt like the Lady of Shalott!

DEBS: Rhys, see the orange rose in my little bouquet, front and center? 

That's David Austin's Lady of Shallott and it is gorgeous! Now I'll think of you when I see it! And I'll happily share some of my traffic with you!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I also had a snowy view this morning - New England has decided to remind us we can never count on it being spring until it’s practically over. 

The view Sunday morning - no snow!

It’s funny you bring this subject up, Debs, because I was talking (from ten feet away) with a neighbor a few days ago, when I was out walking the dog. We’ve both lived in our tiny neighborhood on either side of a county highway for over thirty years, and in that time, we’ve seen traffic change from almost non-existent to a vehicle every 30-40 seconds. Exploding housing prices in Portland have been driving people out to more distant communities, with a commensurate rise in commuter traffic.
That’s changed. Now, when I sit at my desk facing the road, I look up when I hear a car drive past, because they’ve become increasingly rare. It’s both eerie, and pleasant. Do the Germans have a name for that sensation?                                      

JENN McKINLAY: I’m quite certain the Germans have a word for it, Julia! Since I live in a frat house, my view is one of chaos and mayhem. We don’t have red hair and there are only four of us, but we could easily be Weasleys. My desk looks out into the backyard, so the view from my window is a pingpong table, a punching bag in the shape of a dude (we call him Dickie, no idea why), the firepit, my ridiculous amount of potted plants in various stages of health, and the swimming pool. Last year, I gave Hooligan 1 a blow up Narwhal for his high school graduation. Of course, H1 blew him up for a pool party and he has floated in our pool ever since, so I frequently look up from my desk, and see “Wally” floating by. It’s ridiculous but he always makes me smile.

I live on a street that has a K-8 school at the end of it. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss seeing all the kids walking to and from school. It used to be they were loud and annoying and made the dogs bark, but now I miss the sounds of the laughter and the good natured yelling at each other as they all walked home. I think the dogs miss them, too.    

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  Aw, Jenn. Yeah, I heard an airplane fly over yesterday--so eerie. The German word could be: ruhiggefahlzeitgeistgenugkeit. Quiet-danger-worldview-enough-ness. Does that work?

 The view out our back door always makes us laugh--which feels so bizarre these days. The ducks have taken on new and hilarious behaviors, and Jonathan says it’s their way of attempting to train us. These two guys are new-this-year-arrivals, Banded Duck and Wobbly (we think he has a hurt foot). They come right up to the back door and quack-quack-quack to be fed.

And a female, Eddy, flies, yes FLIES, to the back door when she sees me, and quacks like mad until I bring duck food. I open the door and come out, and she waddles at my side, following me to the place by the pool where they eat. It is truly out of Hans Christian Anderson--it’s there the little goose girl or something?

And yes, that’s SNOW on the white tulips. INSANE. I fretted all last night about whether I should cut them all and bring them in, which would be so sad. In true Hank fashion, I cut SOME of them. Easier to worry about the tulips than everything else.


DEBS: Hank, you are brilliant! Our new word-coiner! 

But now it's your turn, dear readers. Describe for us what you see when you look out YOUR window.

RHYS on Stiff Upper Lip

RHYS BOWEN: My husband John reminded me the other day that he had lived through the war as a child. Everyone had faced nightly bombing raids, rushing to a shelter, grabbing the most precious items, just in case. "And we just got on with it," he said. "Nobody panicked. We got on with our lives." 

Of course he was a boy. He probably never noticed the anxiety on his mother's face as she strove to remain calm for her children. He thought it was a great lark to play on forbidden bomb sites. But I have to say that everything I've heard indicates that the Brits were remarkably calm and stoic throughout the whole ordeal.  They didn't know when it would end or if it would end well. During the early years they fully expected Hitler to invade and had stockpiled pitchforks and garden tools to defend agains a mighty German army.

I have written several times about World War 2 but this experience has made it so personal for me. Now I can identify a little with what the people went through. We don't know how long this will go on or if it will end badly for some of us. It's an invisible enemy and there really isn't much we can do to protect ourselves other than staying home. There are those, as there were in WW2, who are openly defiant: this can't happen to me. Remember the scene in my book IN FARLEIGH FIELD  when party goers dance on the rooftop as bombs fall nearby. Maybe defiance was good then, but it isn't now. Those young people who think they are safe are not. What's more it's as if they were carrying bombs into the houses of loved ones.

And so we soldier on, with good days and bad days, with days when we tell ourselves it's not so bad and days when we ask ourselves how long we can keep going.

So I'm going to remember that I'm British. Eccentric maybe, but

Stiff upper lip, you know. I'll be brave and resilient. And I've made several resolutions:
I will make my bed every morning.
I will dress properly, not stay in pjs all day. I read a book written by a young Brit who was stationed in Kenya a hundred years ago. He was the British officer for a vast territory, the only white man for miles around. And every evening he would put on his dinner jacket and bow tie and have a white tablecloth, silverware all correct and sit alone to eat in his mud hut, even if the food was yams and bush cow, because he knew if he let standards slip it would be the end of him.
I try to remember that. I saw a post by Laura Lippman today that she is putting on a lovely outfit for a few minutes every day. And make-up.  I think I'll try that and take a picture every day. Time to experiment with the strange cosmetics at the back of my drawer. We have time, remember?

And a final word of encouragement:

Rhys on the Gift of Time

RHYS BOWEN:

The Gift of Time

I know we are all feeling stressed, anxious, helpless at the moment. It’s only natural when we find ourselves in circumstances we can’t control.

But it suddenly struck me the other day that we have been given a great gift: THE GIFT OF TIME.

It seems to me that I have been running and trying to catch up my whole life. Get up, answer emails, get to work on the book I am writing and try to juggle in time to do the copy edits on the book before it, or to write a proposal for the book coming next. Answer fan mail, do interviews and podcasts, write guest blogs and handle my week as the Jungle Red host. Oh, and read a long line of books waiting to be blurbed.

And how many times have I thought “I should check on this person and see how they are doing”. I should read a book I want to read, not one I have to read. I should try a new recipe. I should get back to my watercolors. But I simply don’t have the time.

Well, now I do have the time. I have been given a gift. My day is my own to make of it what I will. Fortunately I still have writing deadlines to keep me focused. I still have my social media to take care of--and lately I’ve been using my Facebook page to spread calm and reassurance to others with my son’s daily chats (he’s a life coach and is giving wonderful little talks every day)i

But I still have time for other things. My kitchen has never been so clean because I wash the counters at least three times a day! I am at my house in Arizona, not my bigger house in California, so there is no garden to take care of and the house is so easy to maintain with its faux wood floors and white quartz surfaces.  So…. now I can paint when I want to. And I tried a torn paper collage. Lots of fun

And I have decided to give myself one treat every day. One of those face masks that have been languishing in my drawers. (not the sort they need in the ER but the one with gold leaf that you leave on for 20 minutes)

At attempt at a pedicure (not spectacularly successful, I have to admit but it’s more fun with blue toes) Playing Scrabble on my phone. OR… just sitting on my patio and enjoying the sound of the fountain pattering, birdsong, watching palm trees sway in the wind and enjoying my meals. 

My lunch is usually something slapped on a slice of bread with a few lettuce leaves. I eat it and have to get back to work. Today I enjoyed my daughter’s freshly baked sourdough with ham, cucumber and avocado and a hint of English mustard. How good cucumber tastes with a little pepper on it. And the avocado with a squeeze of lemon juice. I savor all the flavors. 

And at night I’m working my way through Britbox--all those good old mystery programs: Marple (the real one, not the later ones) Poirot, Death in Paradise, Rosemary and Thyme etc etc. And the old comedies too. I go to bed smiling. And I wake to my children, all checking in for the day, making each other laugh, offering words of advice, posting pictures of the new puppy. It’s all good.

So Reds, how about you? What are your current coping mechanisms? What are your little treats?

HALLIE EPHRON: My husband and I have been distance teaching our granddaughter for two hours each day. It’s amazing the materials that are out there on the Internet, at our fingertips, and our Franny has been a champ. I’m doing reading and writing; he’s doing math and science. Right now he’s putting together materials to teach her to tell time. I’ve warned him, it’s one of the most complicated things to try to teach. 

I can’t say that all this time has made me more productive, writing-wise. Turns out anxiety is not a creativity boost. In fact, it’s a good way to get really fat.

LUCY BURDETTE: Anxiety not good for me either, Hallie, though I’m making a conscious effort to work some each day. I keep thinking our work will matter to someone down the line who needs to get out of her head, her world (or his!) and into the one I’m creating. I’m hearing from people who are re-reading the Key West mysteries (including our Julia!) and finding comfort there.

I am cooking a fair amount so with you on getting fat too Hallie (although my personal trainer, for whom I now long, calls it fluffy.) So I’m either walking or biking or doing yoga on Zoom most days. And staying in touch with you Reds is a godsend--so glad we have more time for that!

JENN McKINLAY: I thought I would be so much more productive during this self-isolation but not so much. I have too many men underfoot and it’s loud and everyone is always hungry. Also, suddenly I’m expected to monitor the hooligans’ schoolwork online. I don’t even monitor their school work when it’s the regular day to day buried in the backpack beneath the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Teachers, I can’t do what you do. Seriously, can NOT. 

My happiness has been found gardening and then sitting on my back porch enjoying the plants that are blooming, the pets frolicing in the grass, and the fact that my men are smart enough to leave me alone when I’m outside. 

I know this, too, shall pass but not soon enough for me!

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Jenn, one thing I’ve heard over and over again, from the internet, from the community college where I teach, from Youngest’s university - don’t sweat the school work. Everyone is dealing with the same things your boys’ teachers are dealing with their kids at home, whose teachers are dealing with sharing the office with a spouse, who is trying to learn Blackboard for the first time. We’re all half-assing it. Basically, the command from my college was, “Pick the most important concepts and jettison the rest.” I suggest that as the way forward for the Hooligans.

As for me, I’m cooking more, usually while listening to NPR or a podcast, which I enjoy. It’s still half-winter here in Maine, but I’m trying to get outside once a day for some fresh air and sunshine. I threw my whole getting-off-sugar thing into the wastebasket - remember the NYTimes “Seven Day Sugar Detox” from the New Year’s Day edition, about five years ago? Yeah, not so much. I made a double batch of Toll House cookies and we all binged.

Also, I’m really enjoying the communal evenings with the Smithie, Youngest, and her two university buds, or, as I call them, the Creatures of the Night. We’ve watched a movie, spent an evening in conversation, and I’m going to propose a game night - the boys both like “Clue” and unlike my daughters, they didn’t refuse to play with me (the girls say I have a grossly unfair advantage.)

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: I'm worrying, too, and vacillate between terror and optimism. I ordered the dahlias for the garden, though--and then wondered if that reflected how I actually feel. If so, great. I made rosemary infused croutons from old frozen hot dog buns, and thought I was so creative--and frugal, right? (And they were fabulous.) And I am realizing I need structure. SO I make daily lists of what I have to do THAT DAY. And I drive myself to accomplish that. My treats? I am talking to lots of people on email, and have reconnected with my next door neighbor. I read in bed in the morning on my iPad, early on, and don't feel pressured or guilty that I should be rushing to work. And Jonathan and I take long walks together, and that's good. And the ducks are here!

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Rhys, I so get what you're saying about always feeling behind. I think I've been behind my whole life!! Maybe I was even a late baby... So I've been thinking about having the gift of time, for the foreseeable future. Of course there is work to do, and I've managed some, but not nearly as much as I would like. You would think with not going out, the days would stretch endlessly, but that hasn't been the case. There's been a lot of figuring out how to do things, how to order groceries, etc. etc. Maybe in the next few weeks I'll manage that watercolor tutorial, or the Gordon Ramsay online cooking class!

My treats have been regular phone chats with friends, and this last week at least, spending time outside. After a long rainy spell we've had gorgeous weather. Things are bursting out in the garden, so I walk around and survey things every day.  Normally this time of year I'd be filling all my deck and porch pots with flowers and hanging Boston ferns everywhere, so in lieu of that, I've just been tidying and transplanting things. And the hummingbirds have arrived!

RHYS: and to all our friends and readers out there. Any brilliant coping skills? What are your little treats? Stay safe, everyone. We love you!