covid diary: day 59

Good grief. You'll never guess who said this today:

“I learned a lot from Richard Nixon, don’t fire people. I learned a lot by watching Richard Nixon. ... I did nothing wrong and there are no tapes in my case.”

 He did nothing wrong. There are no tapes. You know what does exist, though? More than 75,000 Americans dead because he refused to take action early (or even at all). A 14.7 percent unemployment rate, the highest since the Great Depression. A truly staggering 33.5 million unemployment claims since mid-March. A government — a nation — in shambles.

Meanwhile, he directs the Department of Justice to drop the charges against Mike Flynn, who pleaded guilty (twice!!!) to lying to the FBI and was working with foreign governments against our interests. He directs the theft of personal protective equipment from states in desperate need. He buries CDC guidance that could keep us all safe because it's not convenient for his purposes of reopening the economy at any cost. And let's be clear about what "at any cost" means — he's talking about sacrificing tens of thousands more people here. Because he sees the economy as the key to his reelection. America, are we really going to elect this disgusting grifter again? Do we just not want to have a country anymore?

Yesterday came the news that one of Trump's valets (you guys, he needs multiple valets? come ON!), the one who serves his meals, tested positive for COVID-19. And Trump was "lava-level mad" that his administration isn't doing more to protect him. He's not any kind of level of mad, or sad, or even concerned about the 75,000 dead citizens. He's not any kind of level of mad, or sad, or even concerned about the poor valet. He's lava-level mad because someone dared bring illness near him personally. So now every person who goes to the White House will be tested every single day, while ordinary Americans suffer and die and there is still not comprehensive testing. [Added later: Whoops! Looks like at least one person on the vice president's staff has also tested positive. It's almost like if you actually test people, you have a better idea of the scope of the problem and what needs to be done to manage it!]

On the state level, a lot of states are turning to a new idea for keeping down the number of infections: not reporting them. Or doing a combination of refusing access to tests (you can't have any diagnosed infections without any tests, amirite?) and severely restricting the information that is being made public. And hitting the trifecta: refusing access to tests, restricting the information that is being made public, AND publicly casting doubt on the accuracy of the existing numbers. (That's happening on the national level too. The president has been very vocal in the past couple of days in saying the numbers are inflated, that this is all fake news. But try telling that to the 75,000+ grieving families. Or to the entire scientific community, which believes that if anything, the numbers are way too low to reflect actual cases and deaths.)

Tonight, to celebrate completing the fourth elearning day of the week, Liam and I again went to try to get gyros. Unlike last night, we timed it just right and got through the line quickly. By the time we got our food and tried to leave, though, the cars were totally wrapped around the building and backed up through the adjacent parking lot, so that made a nice challenge for Liam to navigate. It was worth it, though, for delicious gyros.

Also tonight, Mike and I actually had time to sit down together and watch a movie, something we rarely do. It was The American President, which we have both seen more than once but just love. Man, we could use an Andrew Shepherd right now.

Nationwide cases: 1,283,846. Deaths: 77,178.

covid diary: day 58

Here's how today went.

5 a.m. Alarm begins to go off. I hit snooze so many times that I can't even count them.

6:40 a.m. I get up and take a shower at the last possible minute to still have time to get downstairs for work.

7 a.m. I sign in to work. There are no jobs waiting, so I go and clean the kitchen and start the dishwasher because the boys failed to do either last night after dinner.

7 to 11 a.m. Work is so slow that it's painful. I work on a couple of side projects, and I'm done with my "official" workday at 11 a.m. The way my job works now is that if there's more work, they ask us to stay on. Today there was no work, so there was no reason to keep me on. It's a very stressful way to be an employee, not knowing from day to day how many hours you can expect to have or what comes next.

11 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. I finish today's work on my side projects, so I'm done with all computer work for the day. I go into the kitchen to find that Liam and Henry have individually made themselves food, so the kitchen is a mess again and there are dirty pans on the stove. It's exhausting. I clean the kitchen again, then fold all the laundry. Max is still asleep.

1:30 to 3 p.m. I clean the house, fold more laundry, vacuum, etc. Liam and Henry must be down in the basement because I haven't heard from them. Max wanders through around 2:30, sees that I'm cleaning, and decides he would rather hide in the basement than stay on the main level to eat and risk being asked to help out.

3 p.m. I call the boys up to the kitchen and explain to them that since I've done their jobs repeatedly today, they are going to help me out with a couple of other chores (cleaning their bathroom, taking out the trash, stuff like that). There is much complaining because every task is assigned unfairly, or so one of them claims. I move on to mopping.

4:15 p.m. Mike comes home. He and Liam concoct a plan to drive into town because Mike needs a new battery in his car, and we're all sick of eating oven sandwiches for dinner, so they will go get gyros.

5 p.m. Mike and Liam leave. I decide to take a bath and try to read a book (which has been an ongoing struggle for me).

5:45 p.m. Mike texts from town that the line for the gyros drive-thru is prohibitively long, so they're coming back home. Guess it's oven sandwiches again.

6:30 p.m. It turns out to be hot pockets for Liam and Henry, frozen pizza for Max, nachos (well, chips with melted cheese and salsa) for me, and an omelette for Mike.

7:30 p.m. The boys go outside to have a nerf war. There is much shouting and running around.

8 p.m. Mike and I decide to go out for a walk on the trails. Thus far we've been unsuccessful at getting the boys to come out with us, so we ask without much hope if they want to join us. Surprisingly, they accept, but only on the condition that the dogs come too.

8 to 9 p.m. There is much running and chaos all over the trails. But it's happy chaos. The boys take turns with the dogs, and the dogs even go off-leash for a while. In the end, everyone is happy and tired.

After that, it's showers and TV news and more video games and more kitchen cleaning. A bad workday, a hard home day, but in the end, a good day, because we're together and healthy and have a lot to be thankful for.

Nationwide cases: 1,256,972. Deaths: 75,670.

covid diary: day 57

This week, for the first time in its history, the Supreme Court started hearing remote oral arguments and streaming the audio of those arguments live. Monday morning, 87-year-old four-time cancer survivor and professional badass Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg participated in oral arguments, then took herself to the hospital for nonsurgical (likely ultrasound) treatment for a gallbladder infection. And this morning, from her hospital bed, she's participating in oral arguments again and asking tough questions about the case at hand (which happens to be an attempt to challenge the mandate to cover birth control as part of health insurance under the Affordable Care Act, but could be anything). She is sharp and prepared, and even with a lot of background noise from the machines and activity at the hospital, she is grilling the lawyer who is making the case that insurance companies shouldn't have to cover birth control for women.

So I guess I should shut up about feeling hopeless and helpless, because it's not like I'm working from the hospital (though I did do that when Henry was born and was in the hospital for an extra week).

Then again, RBG enjoys job security that neither of us do.

Today's news: infections continue to rise outside of New York, especially in jails, meat-packing plants, and nursing homes. Mike read tonight that 2,500 people died from COVID-19 today. Also in today's news: the polar vortex. In MAY. Gonna get some snow in New England Friday and Saturday!

This world has gone completely mad.

Henry's leg is healing, and we've gotten through three days in a row of elearning. One more this week, then two more weeks to go. The orthodontist reopened, so Liam and Max have appointments next week. I would put those off, but Max is right at the end of this round of braces, and he wants them off so badly. I don't blame him at all. I, too, would like to be done with the orthodontist. (Liam's appointment is just a follow-up because it's been a year since he got his braces off.)

And on we march.

Nationwide cases: 1,228,609. Deaths: 73,431.

covid diary: day 56

According to the New York Times, every day for the past month, at least 1,000 Americans have died from COVID-19. Every day. And every one of those days, at least 25,000 additional Americans have tested positive. Every day. Cases are going down in New York City (thankfully), but if you look at the whole country without NYC, cases are slowly, steadily, inexorably going up. Look at the list of counties with the highest rate of new infections per number of residents: Trousdale, Tennessee. Lincoln, Arkansas. Dakota, Nebraska. Nobles, Minnesota. Bledsoe, Tennessee. Rockland, New York. Cass, Indiana. Marion, Ohio. Pickaway, Ohio. Westchester, New York. Not exactly urban meccas, those.

And yet the push is on to reopen everything. To go everywhere, to get back to work. The federal government is beginning to wind down the (admittedly useless) coronavirus task force, with plans to shut it down entirely by Memorial Day and call it a success. While thousands of Americans continue to die every day. While the curve is still going up.

It's exhausting and disheartening.

Today was a busy day at work, which I'm thankful for. Every time I had a second between jobs, I watched the birds, and they put on a lively show all day long. They're still out there, enjoying the buffet we put out for them, and flying away whenever Thunder sticks his big face in my window. They don't mind Pluto, though, because he likes to just flop down and watch them quietly.

So that's the report for today. Everything is terrible, the world is on fire, nobody's in charge, but the birds are still out there.

Nationwide cases: 1,204,475. Deaths: 71,078.

covid diary: day 55

We've had better days.

Days when none of us broke down in tears over frustrating elearning assignments and the resulting bad grades and the long-term snowball effect of not understanding material that you then have to build on for later. Days when we weren't faced with a huge reduction in one job and the almost certain (though hopefully temporary) loss of the other. Days when we weren't nursing injuries from taking a nasty spill on gravel and getting a cut that maybe should have had stitches but going to the doctor for stitches isn't a thing that's happening now. Days when we weren't so mentally exhausted that three of the five of us went to sleep for the better part of the afternoon, and will probably go back to sleep soon. Days where we weren't contemplating spending Mother's Day away from both of our mothers.

We've had better days, but today hasn't been a good day.

Today's been a day where the media reports that we're in "phase two" of recovery, that everything is opening back up ... yet an average of 2,000 people are still dying every day, and we never met any of the goalposts to finish "phase one." We are still actively in the middle of the first wave of this pandemic, thousands of people getting sick and dying every single day, and yet what we're hearing about is how to prepare for the next wave that may come this fall.

Today's been a day where we read about how the president says he's been treated worse than any other president in American history. Including Abraham Lincoln. Who was, if you'll remember, assassinated for freeing enslaved people. But okay, sure, Trump has it worse than Lincoln ever did.

Today's been a day where we read about Russian doctors "falling out of windows" and dying immediately after they express concern about the scope of the pandemic and their lack of ability to care for people. Multiple Russian doctors. One who was in the middle of a conference call with her colleagues.

Today's been a day where we read about a security guard at a Dollar General in Flint, Michigan, telling a woman that per the governor's executive order, her daughter needed to wear a mask to be in the store (all workers and customers must wear masks). The woman yelled at the security guard, drove off, and returned 20 minutes later with her husband and adult son, one of whom shot and killed the security guard. Over a request to wear a mask.

So yeah, there have been better days. And probably there will be again. But today ... well, I'll leave it at that.

Nationwide cases: 1,180,288. Deaths: 68,922.

covid diary: day 52

Hello, and congratulations on making it through the first four decades of 2020! It's May! Do you feel 40 years older than you did in January? I certainly do!

Imagine going to your work job and seeing this:

photo credit: Seth Harald/Reuters

Imagine trying to do your job, work with your colleagues, and make good decisions for the people you represent ... and looking up to see this:

photo credit: Sen. Dayna Polehanki via Twitter

Imaging doing your job, knowing that just outside the building, armed protesters are marching around with signs like this:

photo credit: Craig Mauger/Detroit News

I happen to love very much someone who works in that building: my aunt Chris, better known as Madam Floor Leader in the Michigan House of Representatives. I'm scared for her. I can't imagine what it took for her to go to work yesterday, what it will take for her to go to work today and tomorrow and all the days that follow, with these terrorists trying to bend her and her colleagues to their will with an obnoxious show of firepower. I'm scared that soon, one of them will do more than display his gun. And I'm pissed right off that they're even allowed to do this. Look at those pictures again, and mentally replace all those white faces with black ones, or Latinx ones, or Asian ones. What do you think would happen then? Would protesters of color be allowed to get anywhere near the seat of government, let alone inside it, armed to the teeth? No. Of course they wouldn't. Most likely, all of them wouldn't make it home alive. These white assholes are trading on the systemic racism in this country to take terrible actions that nobody else would be allowed to take. Yet they're the first ones to cry "reverse racism" (that isn't a thing!!!) when they feel like their "freedom" is being impinged upon.

Oh hey, look what I found! And honestly it didn't take much searching at all. Here are two pictures from the Georgia state capitol from November 13, 2018. As reported by NBC, these folks are getting arrested for the "crime" of being unarmed and chanting "count every vote." Count. Every. Vote.

both photos by John Bazemore/AP

Today I'd like to draw your attention to three quotes. Here they are, in chronological order:

1. Stanford law professor Pamela Karlan, speaking during the impeachment trial to clarify why the Ukrainian quid pro quo was so awful, December 4, 2019:

Imagine living in a part of Louisiana or Texas that's prone to devastating hurricanes and flooding. What would you think if you lived there and your governor asked for a meeting with the president to discuss getting disaster aid that Congress has provided for? What would you think if that president said, "I would like you to do us a favor? I'll meet with you, and send the disaster relief, once you brand my opponent a criminal." 

Wouldn't you know in your gut that such a president has abused his office? That he'd betrayed the national interest, and that he was trying to corrupt the electoral process? 

2. Adam Schiff, closing argument of the impeachment trial, February 3, 2020:

Can we be confident that he will not continue to try to cheat in [this] very election? Can we be confident that Americans and not foreign powers will get to decide, and that the president will shun any further foreign interference in our Democratic affairs? The short, plain, sad, incontestable answer is no, you can't. You can't trust this president to do the right thing. Not for one minute, not for one election, not for the sake of our country. You just can't. He will not change and you know it. ... What are the odds if left in office that he will continue trying to cheat? I will tell you: 100 percent. A man without character or ethical compass will never find his way.

3. Donald Trump, on whether the states deserve any financial aid during this crisis, April 30, 2020:

We're going to look at it [funding for the states]. I think we want to take a little bit of a pause. But if we do that, we'll have to get something for it.

You cannot trust this president, you cannot count on him, and if he creates (through his inaction, utter incompetence, and agenda of cruelty) a public health crisis that leads to a complete economic meltdown, you certainly cannot believe that he will allow the federal government to carry out the purpose for which it was created and support the states. He will not. He will let us all die first, and brag about it while he's doing it.

Yesterday, unemployment numbers were released showing that 3.8 million more Americans filed last week. That brings the total up to 30 million Americans out of work in the past six weeks. To put that into perspective for you, that's one out of every five people in the workforce. This isn't "just" a depression; it's a coma.

There are still six more months until the election. I seriously wonder how much there will be to save by then.

Today the governor announced that the stay-at-home order will expire for most counties at midnight tonight. We're going from "Hunker Down Hoosiers" to "Back on Track Indiana" (I assume that's an Indy 500 pun there, nice job, governor). It looks like starting next week, manufacturers will open, retail and restaurants will open at 50 percent capacity, and hair salons and tattoo parlors can reopen by appointment only and with social distancing guidelines (what does that even mean when someone is that close to your body?). By the end of May, restaurants and retail will operate at 75 percent capacity, movie theaters at 50 percent capacity, office workers can all go back to work, and recreational sports leagues can start. Oh, and people 65 and older can start resuming social activities then too. By July 4, basically everything will be open, and fairs and festivals will be happening, and they'll decide what to do about the next school year.

Fairs and festivals for the Fourth of July. What a rosy future that is! Let's see if it comes to pass. (I will not be attending any fairs or festivals in July.)

On the home front, an elearning day (10 more to go!). Max was busy with Chinese and social studies and integrated chemistry and physics. Liam was busy showing me a $100 graphing calculator he will need for next year. (And doing his work, but I'm not sure what that entailed because he just did it on his own.) Henry had a class meeting and a couple loose ends to wrap up, but then he announced around 10 that "since there is a lack of chocolate chips in the house," he had looked up a recipe on the internet and intended to make sugar cookies. This is pretty ambitious, because usually the boys make cookies or brownies from box mixes, and I definitely didn't have time to help him. I went in the kitchen once to help him find the baking soda and baking powder (and take a picture of him mixing his ingredients), but other than that, I stayed in my office working until I was eventually presented with a plate of three perfect cookies. Great baking, Henry!

Late afternoon, Mike and I took a walk out in the pasture and had some close encounters with red-winged blackbirds, and then we sat out on the front porch for a while talking and watching the birds. Eventually, we all got hungry and decided to order food (which we don't usually do, but it's been a week around here). We ordered online from Hacienda and paid with a credit card, and Liam drove me to pick it up. When I got there I found a bag on a table right inside the door with my name on it, picked it up, and came back home, with zero human interactions along the way. I guess that won't be the case much longer, but it sure felt reassuring today.

Nationwide cases: 1,103,225. Deaths: 64,808.

covid diary: day 51

appropriate cowshit sculpture. from DK archive, not sure of source

hello friends. 2020 is the worst year and i want to strap it to a rocket and launch it into the sun.

today's love in the time of coronavirus update is from me (mike), which is a change of pace. holli was wiped out after working a bunch of extra hours (which is great!) and constantly dealing with the kids' e-learning and the enormous psychological weight of a killer global pandemic that is running wild and unchecked through our nation largely because of the lack of action or even attention from the narcissistic wet man-baby who became president because many americans apparently enjoy punching themselves in the dick (which is not great!). so she went to bed early and left today's update to me. let's go.

i work in an industrial facility, and some clever maneuvering by the Powers That Be allowed us to be declared an "essential business," which is a load of BS. we're still working, but i'm not sure how a high-performance racing-tire manufacturer can be considered essential when there are no races going on anywhere (big, small, overseas, etc.), plus the fact that racing is in no way "essential." we make some fancy and seriously expensive custom stuff that is sold to other companies that are also considered essential (i guess sewer plugs and trampolines are key to national security?), so that provides the justification to keep us open. don't get me wrong, i want to work, as i like and need money and health insurance and such, but i also want to be assured that my coworkers and i can be safe from the killer global pandemic i mentioned earlier.

to address complaints from concerned employees and create the impression that they are taking social distancing requirements seriously, the safety manager (we call him the hambone, for reasons i won't address here) enacted a variety of policies to keep us all six feet apart as much as possible. this mainly involved putting up signs everywhere that say "maintain a healthy social distance" and "wash your hands" and "don't share beverages with your coworkers," things that anyone with two neurons to rub together knew already. tape on the floor lets you know not to get too close together when, for example, using the microwaves in the cafeteria. hambone removed all but two chairs from every table in the break rooms/cafeteria, ensuring employees stay six feet apart. which is all great. however, indiana's version of OSHA (just googled it, it's called IOSHA, of course) made a visit yesterday, and they determined that the break room tables are only 5.5 feet wide. so today there was only one chair per table. you'd think this would pose a problem during times of high capacity (like lunch), but since half the plant was laid off a couple of weeks ago (which is not great), there are still plenty of chairs to go around (which is...great? i guess?). every silver lining's got a touch of grey.

we were also issued two neck gaiters, which are stretchy things you wear around your neck and are supposed to pull up over your mouth/nose whenever in close proximity to another human. a lot of people complained about them, as they are so thin as to be see-through. but since the point is to keep any cough/sneeze droplets from spreading through the air, they appear to be adequate for their designated purpose. a lot of people have been wearing homemade masks, with tie-dye being a very popular fabric choice. so are pigs (?) and cats riding rocket ships (????????).

while all that is great, what is not great is that the back shifts (you know, when the safety people and office types aren't there) don't follow any of the guidelines at all, and they are not shy about bragging about it. they pull extra chairs off the conveniently located stacks in the break rooms to sit five or six to a table, and they don't bother with the gaiters or homemade masks. when i confronted the safety manager about it at the end of my shift today and said, "maybe you should put the extra chairs in the warehouse or something, and maybe hang out after 4 PM and enforce some of the rules," he said he'd think about it. whatever, you useless choad. when the killer global pandemic arrives at our facility, which it eventually will (if it's not there already), it will obviously originate from the back shifts.

i can wipe down whatever i'm working on with bleach wipes before i start (i pack a ziplock bag every morning for this very purpose), and i can wear a mask both at work and the grocery store, but does it matter? is it enough? i have my doubts, especially when so many people around me don't take it seriously. i'm the only person in our household who regularly (or ever, in the case of the boys) goes out, so if the coronavirus visits out family, i'll likely be the source. how the hell do i protect my family?

sorry to be such a downer, but everything about everything sucks these days. florida, home of sandy beaches, theme parks, retirement communities loaded with high-risk elderly people, and trump mini-me governor ron desantis has reported fewer cases and deaths from COVID-19 than models have predicted. which is great! however, the "official" florida case/death tally has consistently been lower than the daily report from the florida medical examiners commission. you know, the folks who deal with the american coronavirus carnage on a daily basis. nine days ago, the commission stopped providing its regular statistics update, and today it's being reported that such information is being withheld by the florida department of health. what's a little information censorship in the midst of a killer global pandemic. 

meanwhile, the "president" is trying to blame the lack of coronavirus testing on...President Obama. because of course he is. at today's task force briefing/campaign rally, agent orange said that the government "inherited obsolete tests" and "bad, broken tests" for the novel (which means new) coronavirus, which didn't exist over three years ago when President Obama was, you know, President. jim acosta asked the obvious question: the 2019 coronavirus was unknown three years ago, there was no test for it anywhere, so how could the Obama administration be responsible for "bad, broken tests"? this doesn't even address how china, south korea, and the WHO quickly developed tests for the novel coronavirus, which is great. but the current administration refused them and tried to make their own. which didn't work. so the USA went weeks without functional tests, and the outbreak spread and spread. which is not great. this is truly the worst timeline.

enough. things here are currently good, and we are all holding it together for now. i saw the bluebirds out in the pasture tonight, which was great, but the red-winged blackbirds keep using the bluebird houses as perches, which i think scares off the bluebirds, which is not great. we'll see if the bluebirds (and the swallows) take to the extra houses we just put up farther out in the pasture.

take care of yourselves. please.

nationwide cases: 1,097,415. deaths: 63,849.

covid diary: day 50

Storytime! When I worked at Borders, we had tons of author events. Everyone from Jimmy Carter (who shared his pizza with us in the break room) to Lyle Lovett (who gave signed copies of his latest CD to everyone working when he performed there) to JK Rowling (the line was unbelievable!) to Ray Bradbury (he wandered in off the street by himself, completely casual and disheveled) to George R.R. Martin (who I happened to be on the same El car with afterward ― this was before he got super famous and the TV show took off) came to our store to sign things and give readings and performances. But one incident stands out in my mind.

The year was 1998, and talk-show host Jerry Springer was promoting his book Ringmaster!, so named because his show was very much a circus filled with dysfunctional and unpredictable guests. (Side note: My mom used to watch the show at the liquor store every day, and she would delight in telling all the customers that they only watched it because Gramps insisted. He did not, in fact, insist on it, but she liked seeing people's faces when they thought he did.) The event was fine, nobody got attacked, and we all made it through ok. Afterward, I happened to be on the elevator with a customer when Jerry Springer himself got on. I smiled but didn't say anything to him. The customer, meanwhile, started gushing and fawning. "I love your show!" she exclaimed. "I watch it every single day!"

Springer replied, in an extremely dry tone, "I'm sorry."

Listen, Jerry Springer didn't get to be the head of a television empire on his good looks. He's smart and canny. He has a J.D. from Northwestern. He was a political advisor to Robert F. Kennedy. He was the mayor of Cincinnati and served a couple terms on the city council. I mean, yeah, his first term did end in scandal when it came out that he had paid a prostitute with a check that bounced, but after that, he owned up to what he had done, was completely honest about it, and won his seat back in the next election. And yes, he's spent the past 40 or so years being known as the host of the grossest tabloid talk show ever created. But that just makes him uniquely qualified to comment on today's situation.

Here's what Jerry Springer had to say this week:

There is no excuse [for televising the daily presidential briefings], now that we know what they’re like, for just turning on the cameras. ... To just turn on the cameras on Trump for an hour and a half? That’s not journalism, that’s technology. ... Trump gets up there and spews his stuff, which is different every day and then ― finally! ― the doctors get up there and, basically, refute what he’s saying. ... There are some people crazy enough to listen to the president and they’re the ones going out there spreading the disease.

I don't know about you, friends, but I would 100 percent vote for Jerry Springer for president right now. Then again, I would vote for one of the dead possums in our trap that Mike then throws into the neighbor's field under cover of darkness if it meant we could get Trump out of there.

We're over a million cases of COVID-19 nationally, and more than 60,000 Americans have died. Infections are running wild in places where people are packed close together: nursing homes, prisons ... and meat-packing plants. We're on the verge of complete food chain breakdown, so the president's response is to sign an executive order mandating that the meat-packing plants reopen or stay open, and declaring the workers essential, along with a neat provision that exempts the plants themselves for any liability they might have in not protecting their employees. So great, we'll all have chicken and ground beef, but at what human cost? Trump certainly doesn't care about that.

In positive news, I've been reading about vaccines advancing to human trials, and another drug showing potential for treating COVID-19. And by that I mean potential based on results from an actual study, not based on whatever word salad the president decides to disgorge on any given day. Let's hope there's some relief in sight soon.

And finally, in breaking extremely local news, all the spring birds decided to come back today! It rained off and on all day, but the feeders had a riot of color and activity. It was a delight to watch. Here's a little sampling.

It's 10 p.m. now, and I'm off to work on a last-minute rush project for a medical client. You'll never guess what the topic is!

Nationwide cases: 1,038,451. Deaths: 60,876.

covid diary: day 49

Optimistic oriole feeder, waiting for
the first customers of the season.

Let's start with a question today.

If an American president loses more Americans over the course of six weeks than died in the entirety of the Vietnam War, does he deserve to be re-elected?

Reporter Olivia Nuzzi asked Trump that at last night's coronavirus briefing. GET. IT. OLIVIA. NUZZI. Of course, he didn't answer the question, just babbled on about how the death count is "way down" from what was initially predicted blah blah sneeze. But she asked the question, and it needed to be asked. And obviously, the answer is no, absolutely not, and he didn't deserve to be elected in the first place.

Hey, remember when Trump said he was done with doing the coronavirus briefings after he suggested that we should inject disinfectants and possibly infrared light into human people to "clean" them of the "invisible enemy"? I do too, because it was Friday, and last night was Monday, and he was back to doing stupid self-congratulatory briefings. He lasted two whole days without doing a briefing. And yesterday's was on the schedule, then canceled, then reinstated, all at his whim. Cool way to run a country.

You know what else is cool? The Pentagon released videos of UFOs. I'm serious. They're calling them "unidentified aerial phenomena," but what they mean is UFOs. And the Navy has now issued official guidance for Americans who want to report UFO sightings. And it's not a big deal at all and is barely getting any attention in the media. Double cool. We're all stuck in our houses trying not to die from a brand-new virus we can't figure out, and now the aliens are coming for us too. Perfect.

This afternoon we had a special treat. Henry and I drove over to Riverside (where he'll go to school next year, circumstances willing) and went for a walk along the greenway trail with Bethany, Klaudia, Emeri, and Judah the dog. Henry walked Judah, or maybe Judah walked Henry. I got to meet my beautiful great-nephew (from afar; I didn't hold him or even get close to him) and see my sister and niece, and we all got to enjoy a little fresh air. We weren't out long, but it felt really nice. Judah is all of six days old now, and he had a checkup yesterday and was proclaimed very healthy. Klaudia is still super tired, but she seems to be really enjoying motherhood so far.

"Hi! I'm new."

After dinner, Mike and the boys went out and put up the rest of the birdhouses. It looks like a proper nature area back there now. It started raining as they were coming back inside, so I didn't get to go out and explore. Can't wait until it dries up.

And I ended the day with a long conversation with my aunt Pam in Boston. We haven't talked in a long time, and it was really, really nice to catch up. If there's one thing I've learned from this pandemic, it's that you really should tell your loved ones how much you appreciate them (and if possible, why you appreciate them!), so I'm glad I got a chance to do that tonight.

Nationwide cases: 1,012,583. Deaths: 58,355.

covid diary: day 48

frost, April 27. sigh.

Yesterday, the pandemic claimed another victim: Dr. Lorna M. Breen, the medical director of the emergency department at New York-Presbyterian Allen Hospital, died by suicide. Dr. Breen worked in one of the NYC hospitals hardest hit by COVID-19, and she contracted it herself, but went back to work after a brief recovery period. Dr. Breen had no history of mental health issues, and her father said she described the stress of seeing so many patients dying, many of them before they could even be unloaded from ambulances. In a statement reported by the New York Times, her father said, “Make sure she’s praised as a hero, because she was. She’s a casualty just as much as anyone else who has died.” My heart breaks for Dr. Breen and her family and colleagues, especially since I know this won't be the only ancillary death that results from this pandemic. I haven't seen any statistics, but I would imagine that as people deal with the loss of their loved ones, the overwhelming financial burden of getting medical care to stay alive, or the financial stress of job loss, the rate of suicide will rise.

And in a mark of just how absurd this new reality is, the very next thing I read today is that two cats have tested positive for COVID-19, and the CDC recommends that social distancing guidelines be applied to pets now too. So ... you know ... don't let anyone outside your immediate family pet your cat or give your dog any ear skritches.

It was a quiet weekend around here. Mike built some more birdhouses, so soon the pasture trails will all have them. We're also planning to plant some wildflowers in random clumps all around the pasture. I got an email from my boss cutting my hours even further; I'm down to 50 percent of my pre-pandemic hours now. (Don't worry, we're fine for now.) In good news, the IRS fixed the glitch in its website related to zero filers (people like us who neither got a return nor had to pay taxes last year), so I was able to put our bank information in the system. Allegedly, we will have a deposit as early as next week. I'll keep you posted on that, though I'm skeptical.

Last night I made brownies for dessert and we sat out by the fire and ate them and chatted. I asked the boys what they miss the most that we can't do anymore, and all three of them answered "school." Max misses his friends, Liam misses his friends and learning new things in class and challenging himself, and Henry misses his friends and having a structure to his day. "I miss it because it took up so much time," he said. "Now I have all this time and I don't have anything to do with it."

Funny, because today was an elearning day, and around midday Henry's teacher sent me a message: "I thought you'd want to see Henry's writing response."

Don't worry, I put a transcript below.

Prompt: This is your chance to practice writing 2 paragraphs (12 lines). Below, write about what you enjoyed most about this story AND was the author’s choice to tell the story of humans along with the story of the redwood a good one? (First paragraph, state what you like about the story. Use examples from the story. In the second paragraph, state your opinion about the way the author used humans and redwoods written together. Again, use examples from the story. 

Henry’s response:
I did not like anything about the story. I do have to right this paragraph tho. A paragraph is six sentences, sentence one is about your opinion or the argument that you are making. Sentences 2-5 are you supporting your argument or justifying your opinion. For example: I did not find the book to be interesting. Sentence 6 is you restating your opinion or closing your argument, for example: I did not find this story to be interesting but I am required by law to write these paragraphs.
My opinion about the way that the author used humans and redwoods is that it was not interesting. As I said in my previous paragraph I did not find the story to be interesting. Yet I am still required to write this paragraph. I do enjoy writing these bland paragraphs tho. I do not like writing paragraphs but I’m trying to make this interesting. This is my final sentence and I have hated doing these two paragraphs.

Oh, Henry. Needless to say, I made him rewrite the two paragraphs. I told him it's fine if he didn't like the story or didn't think the author effectively articulated the premise, but he has to support that opinion with evidence from the text. After about two hours, he came back down and showed me this:

I did not find the story to be interesting. I think that the story was too long because the author could have shown the life of the tree without the current event at that point. I think that the author could have shortened the story by removing the points of the animals and the humans. I think that the author could have explained the inner working of the tree. I feel that the author could have focused more on the trees' different parts. Again, I did not find the story interesting.
My opinion on the way that the author used humans and redwoods together was that it wasn’t interesting. I think that in the section that the author talked about humans that they could have elaborated on the things the people were doing. I think that the author could have done something different with the humans and the tree together. I think that the author could have made a more significant connection between the tree, the ecosystem, and the humans. I think that the author could have added a way to explain the ecosystem that the tree needs. I did not think that the way the author used the humans and redwoods was interesting.

Meanwhile, Max had to do a fashion show in Chinese, which meant that he finally got around to taking a shower and grooming himself. Kudos to Max! Liam has been pacing himself pretty well to get all his work done, but like I mentioned, he hates not being able to learn and be challenged in a classroom setting. His English class finished reading Macbeth (in graphic novel format, which I will never stop being offended by), moved on to horror, and is now doing science fiction. He had to send a greeting in Spanish to one of his friends via social media. (History and trig and chemistry are much harder, but I do know a viewing of Schindler's List is in his future as an extra credit opportunity for history. I have the inside track on that since his teacher is my aunt Laura. I'll watch it with him but probably I'll regret that afterward when I am once again overwhelmed by man's inhumanity to man.) 

In the mail today, we got a surprise: My friend Valerie made us each a mask and sent them from San Antonio. Here's Liam modeling his. 

It started drizzling around dinnertime, but it wasn't enough to keep me and Mike from taking a walk around the pasture. We planned out the locations of the new birdhouses, talked about our plans for improving the trails gradually, and generally just enjoyed being in the quiet together. 

And the night ended with a twist. Max came up from the basement in tears. "Mom, I made a mistake," he told me. Turns out he and Liam were messing around, and he kicked backward and put a heel-size hole in the wall. In a funny twist, I was about Max's age when I put my foot through a wall at my parents' house (I was also messing around, trying to climb up the wall in the hallway by putting my back against one side and my feet against the other, which worked great until I got halfway up and my foot went through the wall, oops), so I knew exactly what to do. And just like my dad taught me how to drywall and patch and fill and sand and paint, so tonight I taught Max about the joys of spackle, and over the next few days he'll get the satisfaction of sanding and smoothing and painting. And so the world carries on, one generation to the next. Good night, friends.

Nationwide cases: 987,022. Deaths: 56,144.