Must. Not. Touch. Face....

RHYS BOWEN :

  We’ve all be told what to do. Simple steps. Wash hands frequently with soap and water and DO NOT TOUCH YOUR FACE.

The first one is easy, only you have to sing Happy Birthday twice which gets some strange looks in hotel rest rooms. My favorite instruction has been, “Wash your hands as if you have just urged your husband to kill the rightful king and now you can’t seem to get the blood off!”

So I’ve stood at the sink muttering, “Out damned spot. Will the perfumes of Arabia not sweeten this little hand? Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier and afeared?”  Much more fun than Happy Birthday to you (which always upsets me because the two women who wrote it didn’t get a penny in royalties)

But the hard thing is not touching my face. Do you know the average person touches their face 90 times a day? And I am way worse than average, I fear.

And now that I’m aware of the commandment it is torture:

My cheek is itching. Must scratch. Must….. scratch!

My hair is tickling my forehead. Must push back or go mad….

Is that something in my eye? Eye feels gritty… must rub.  Must rub

Is my face cream all rubbed in? Should I put on a little eye shadow even though I’m at home and nobody will see?

Picture of me inside grocery store, 6 a.m. Not looking my best!

I’m trying to learn ways to keep my hands away from my face when I’m sitting in the car, watching TV or even eating. I’ve tried playing the piano on my knee with my fingers. Lacing my fingers like we used to when we recited “Here’s the church and here’s the steeple. Look inside and here are the people”.

I’m rather wishing I was back at our house in California where I have all my stuff. Lots of stuff. Craft items. Beads. Crochet yarn. Jigsaw puzzles. Things to keep my hands busy. But alas I am in Arizona which is only supposed to be our winter retreat and has a minimum, no large library to read, and no stuff to play with.

If I were in California I’d bring out the worry beads. When I was a student I spent 3 months going around Greece and we would watch the men with their worry beads. It was only the men. Actually we hardly ever saw women. They stayed home outside of Athens, unless they worked in the fields and then they didn’t have time for worry beads. But the men walked around talking with other men, their hands behind their backs and their worry beads held between them. Clack, clack, clack in one direction and then clack, clack, clack back again, moving effortlessly as they chatted.

I bought some and tried them and I have to admit they drove me mad. I found myself counting them… thirteen this way, thirteen that way.. and then my finger would miss one and give my heart a jolt. So not at all calming for me. But now at least I’d have something to keep those hands occupied.

So does anyone have good suggestions, for not touching my face, that don’t involve going to Michaels and getting craft supplies? My daughter Clare has rummaged through her closets and is making fabric masks to give to all her delivery people. I don’t have a sewing machine or fabric here but that’s something I’d like to do. Would a hand sewed mask hold up, do you think?

And a second thought: are you being really, really good at social distancing? I’m trying to but I’m dealing with that most difficult of creatures A MAN. I read that many more men are dying than women, probably because they won’t follow directions and precautions!

The other day we went to Trader Joes. I took all the items out of the bags and wiped them down outside the garage. Then I made John take off his clothes and throw them in the washing machine and wipe down his shoes outside. He made a tremendous fuss. “This is overkill,” he growled.

            “Not overkill, but maybe kill,” I replied.

            I just don’t feel that we can be too careful. If it’s inconvenient, if it seems stupid it may be saving a life. Mine. John’s.

Stay safe, my darlings. Make those men do what’s required

And here is one of the most reassuring videos I’ve seen so far, from an ER doctor https://vimeo.com/399733860/description?utm_source=hs_email&utm_medium=email&utm_content=2&_hsenc=p2ANqtz-8_B1oBaezwnEZczqpv1X4nZkoEHtQ2NBifU8JbmavmAwldWSYocLpKeXu9Q9DLw6mI-zVto2Cq6326D3W9Jm2R0FQV_g&_hsmi=2

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!