Pandemic, Zombie Apocalypse - Eh!

Mr. Catman enjoying new spring sun

You know it’s bad when your mother refuses to let you into her house.

OK, she’s 87; I get it. I think. But two weeks ago she let me in and made me sit across the room from her; last week she told me I couldn’t come in at all. And I’m not sick. But I’m glad she’s taking it seriously. But maybe I’m just a little bit – well, not hurt, exactly, but – oh, what the heck. This way there’s nothing to regret later, right?

So this week, after a lot of angst, I decided to shut my office until at least April 20, more likely beginning of May. The building my office is in is locked now 24/7, so letting patients in would be slightly problematic, only because it’s a little hike to get to the front door; a lot of my patients come for tune-ups or other things I can treat from a distance with herbs, which I’ll continue to mail to them or let them come pick up at my house; and I’d already decided I’d only do treatments on the days the chiropractor with whom I share office space isn’t there, so we aren’t mingling patients in the waiting room. I was doing a lot of stressing over whether to close or not, but I woke up Thursday with my decision made, and have been much less stressed since then.

Catnip emerging

I am going to treat patients who are in pain, but they’ll need to call me and be able to come on a Monday or Wednesday. I brought a lot of herbs home to save me the 1.5-hour trip every time I need to send something out to a patient, but even so, I’ve got a list more than half a sheet long of unpredictable things I need to go up to get next week, so I’ll be there on and off anyway. There’s one new patient I’m going to work with over email and phone and sending herbs, as much as possible; acupuncture itself will have to wait for her, but we can do a lot without needling.

It’s going to be a long weird ride. Right now, I’ve been told, the MDs at DHMC are expecting we’ll get a peak in a week or two, and by May things will be calming down. They’re rescheduling all the not-critical appointments and treatments for after the first week in May. They don’t know, of course, but it’s an educated guess.

I’m mostly wicked busy doing the paperwork this thing has made much bigger, and talking to patients on email and phone; and also talking to friends a lot on phone and email, some of whom I only hear from a couple times a year. Now’s a good time to get in touch, we have the time.

Eygptian onions emerging

I’m also wishing it were mid-April, when I might risk planting a few cold-ground, cold-season vegetables – like fava beans, lettuce, turnips. But it’s supposed to snow again next week, so I’m trying to remind myself not to jump the gun and waste a lot of energy and seed! But there are plenty of things to do outside on warm days anyway, which usually there isn’t time to get to except in a hurry: I can move the in-garden compost bins to the far side of the fence, freeing up a small bed for vegetables that should be quite fertile this summer, and distribute the ready compost (if it’s thawed out yet – there’s still snow in my back yard just beyond the garden) around the garden. I’ve been wondering if I make a hole in the top one of the hay bales I stacked up last fall and filled it with compost and dirt, would it be a cool experiment to see if pumpkins and winter squash would grow there and cascade down? Where am I going to put the log infused with shiitake spore when it arrives from the supplier? It needs shade, but be open to rain and breezes, and not so far from the house I don’t check it often, and it needs to be put somewhere it can stay for the next 3 years or so. Can I turn the space on the south side of the garage into a place to grow corn and tomatoes? It’s very warm back there, but the ground is a mess of human and natural junk – now would be a good time to clear that all away and start the process. 

Old pallets turned into platforms for the potato bags I grow my potatoes in. Cardboard below to kill off weeds and grass. This system works really well if you don't have garden space for such things.

That’s the short list. And of course, as soon as I realized I was going to have time off that I’ve been longing for in order to do some stuff around the house that there’s never time for, I forgot what things it was I was longing for time to do.  I’m starting to remember a few things now – like finish painting some shelves that never got painted, and a stair wall that never got finished; hoe out the pantry and wash all the shelves; sort through some cupboards and baskets and so on that need organizing, if not hoeing out; fun stuff like that. The Husband has already put up two stair rails we've needed for 30 years.

Jonquils by a raised bed.

If I get desperate for something to do, I could dust. Only if I’m desperate. I know someone who went through and cleaned her freezer and refrigerator. I’ve already started the annual washing of winter coats and hats and clothes and putting them away, a little at a time.

The birds have snookered me into believing I need to keep feeding them for at least another couple of weeks – they got me when it snowed earlier this week (the front-stoop Buddha went from being bare of snow to buried up to his tits again), so I broke down and bought a 20-lb bag of sunflower seed to last the next couple of weeks, even though the bears are out, and I know better. 

I’m still seeing cardinals and woodpeckers and mourning doves and all the usual feeder birds, but today I saw the first robin poking around looking for worms, and a goldfinch (still have some thistle seed leftover) and everyone seems hungry. It’s going to be a miserable cold, wet week so I’m not sorry I can feed them. But in the back of my head is the video a patient showed me of the bear in her back yard, lounging in a snow pile, happily eating the sunflower seed she puts out for the newly-arrived ducks. I’ve had bears on the kitchen wart in the past, don’t need to do it again.

The Tall Guy is back more than a month early from his winter western ski-area hiatus, because the ski areas all closed down because of the virus and because traveling is becoming problematic. The Southern Gent is stranded in Pennsylvania living in his camper, with nowhere to empty his waste tank – he figures he’s going to need to drive it to the town wastewater site.  My friend who just moved into a pretty nifty assisted-living place – literally 2 weeks before they shut it down to outsiders – is probably having a much harder time adjusting to the new place than she might otherwise. She, and all the residents, can go out, but no one who doesn’t work or live there is allowed in, the cafes and dining room and closed so everyone has to eat in their rooms, the gym and library and hair salon and all the other facilities there are closed…she doesn’t complain, but, wow, what timing. None of her friends from here can go there and it must be lonely. The Actress and her husband are back early from their winter southern adventures, because he’s due to have joint-replacement surgery – which, of course, has been cancelled for the time being. And the British Car Gal, who is newly retired, has cancelled her road trip south, her sister’s foreign trip has been cancelled, Lady Music’s Australian trip has been cancelled, and, well, oh, well.

Crocuses by a raised bed wall.

 

On sunny days it’s not so bad – but on grey, overcast days, or wet days, it really, really looks like November out there. Except for the crocuses, and the jonquils starting to poke up through the leaf litter.

I’m still without a functioning furnace. Sigh. I’m guess it’ll be usable in May or June.

Now I’m going to go try to figure out how to pay my office rent, my credit card bills, and all of the rest of the bills without any income. Gonna be interesting.

As the Chinese curse goes: May you live in interesting times. We’re definitely there.

Those of you who are patients and need herbs or advice can email me at: taichideb@tds.net.

For the blog, 28 March, Spring of the Zombie Apocalypse.

All photos Deb Marshall