Spring is on the horizon. Pandemic?

The red polls came back a couple of weeks ago! It’s so nice to have birds in the yard again (except when Hank spots them and pulls my arm off) and I enjoy filling the feeders. It is a nice break from work.

My stress levels are through the roof. My jaw is tense, my teeth hurt, my chest is tight. I have too much work to do, my coworkers are juggling childcare. I can’t shut it off, the news updates and press conferences still find a way through. I want to know everything, help everybody. I need to find peace, relax, let it go by.

We’ve had just a taste of spring here now. Enough to make the streets slushy and the roofs are starting to shed their snow. The eavestroughs are dripping, although you can’t really tell because of the metre or more of snow that is everywhere. With the snow half sliding off the roof, and half shovelled off by Jeff, we have to climb over mountains of it just to take Hank out! I think he loves pulling us in the deep parts!

Town is quiet and still. We don’t want anyone coming back from their winter travels now. Our bars are closed, and our restaurants are take-out only. Sinks have been installed just inside the grocery store for shoppers to wash their hands as they go in and before they go out. Jeff has set up a temporary home office in the garage for the days he isn’t manning their front line.

Dusk lasts until 9:30pm already! What a difference to go for our nightly walk while it is still light! Feels weird again to walk across the deck in my robe to get to the hot tub. Something about the cover of darkness seemed more private somehow? And the hot tub has fresh water and is up to temperature and hot and steaming again!

I’m physically isolated from the world. It feels like a chemo memory, where Jeff runs any errand that is needed, to be a defense between a virus and my immune system. Is my immune system normal now? I have no idea. Don’t want to risk it. We have hand sanitizer everywhere. I wash my hands even coming home from a dog walk. Can you be too safe? More people are phoning and having video hang outs. We’re all still here. And there. And treading water.

I’m getting better driving my stick shift! We got together with friends for a bon fire on Sunday afternoon out at their gold mine. I didn’t stall it once! For some reason I’m way worse with Jeff in the passenger seat though – nerves? When he isn’t, I’m stronger and bolder and muscle through solo. I’m a more timid driver who asks too many questions when I’m not alone. I need to build confidence. It’ll be easier without all the ice and slush, when I can put it back in 2 wheel drive!

Was that our last outing for awhile? That was just hours before we heard it was here. We already didn’t hug, and kept our distance. I worry how exposed some people are, and have to be. And how nonchalant others are. Does it matter? If we all just do what we’re told, we could get through this quickly. We wouldn’t have to stand 6 feet apart at the dog park.

Hank had kennel cough recently, after we boarded him while we drove up from Vancouver. Poor guy was quarantined for a couple weeks, isolated from other dogs, and kept home from play dates with his brother at the dog park. The cough was hard to hear, and the gagging retch at the tail end of the cough was even worse. But he’s now all better and back at it! I think he got a little chunky while he was isolating though!

Local businesses are talking about their impending bankruptcy, without a summer tourist season. That is hard to hear, and to comprehend. Somehow I’m more concerned about everyone surviving this, as I long for our territorial borders to be locked up, for people to be kept away, kept out. Life could go on in this isolated, end of the road place, with open businesses, and hugging friends, if we could just stop it from coming in. There are just 3 cases in the territory now, all from people who travelled elsewhere. If we can just stop the spread.

I seem to take a lot of pictures of Hank lately. Guess I need to get out more. Here are some recent pictures found on my iPhone:

7 more work days until my sabbatical starts. When I can turn it all off. And hike in the woods. Sit on my lawn chair. Watch the snow melt, and the birds feed.