Blue-Footed Musings

Yesterday Marshall saw the title of my blog post, and he asked if it really had been 92 days since we started self-isolating. I was able to answer his question with confidence, because I had deliberately written a numbered post for every day just so I’d know what day we were on. I had also double-checked my work several times, to be sure I hadn’t skipped any days or made any mistakes on the numbers. So yes, I told him, it really has been over three months, as hard as it may be for any of us to wrap our heads around that reality.

I wish I could say those 92 days had bought us a brighter future. I mean, look at what New Zealand has done! They’re running around footloose and COVID-free now. Smaller country, different situation, I know. We’re a much bigger and more divided country. Even so, we might have been able to eke out a win.

We were doomed from the get-go, though, because we lacked an intelligent and unified strategy and the leadership required to implement it. We needed a federal government that listened to experts and knew what to do, brought all the states onboard, and supported the people trying to get the job done. Instead, the stupidity and cupidity in the White House and Senate, the patchwork approach of governors struggling in a leadership void, the anti-intellectualism that makes so many Americans distrust science, and the right-wing nutjobs who push the anti-intellectualism and actively work in other ways to divide the country–all of these things were ingredients in a recipe for disaster. How could we be anywhere but where we are today? Failure was already baked into the system.

So, we are 92 days into the disaster, and who knows how many more before we’re done. If I sound a little angry about it, that’s because I am angry about it. We deserve so much better, all of us. If things don’t change soon, I really do not know how I will manage to cope.

I have been walking a mile most days (8 laps in the afternoon, 8 in the evening). Tonight I walked an extra two laps. It was mostly the weather that made me want to stay outside, but this view from the end of the driveway didn’t hurt.

The governor of Rhode Island plans to open the schools in the fall. On the town Facebook page, most people seem to be happy with the idea, though they question how we can possibly get all our kids back in school while following all of the CDC guidelines (hint: we can’t). Some are concerned about kids wearing masks (they’re vehemently against it). They really don’t seem to worry much about the virus itself. I sense that they just want things to go back to normal.

I want everything to go back to normal, too. Normal is not on the horizon, though. So we have to pick from among the “abnormal” options.

My husband and I are agreed. Unless there is a large positive change regarding the virus, or unless someone comes up with a brilliant scheme that sounds safe enough, we will not send our children to school. If the school won’t provide distance learning, then we’re going to have a problem, because we are ill-equipped to homeschool on our own.

But, my guess is that the town will offer distance learning for those who want and/or need it. If enough parents take the offer, the number of children physically going to school might be low enough to meet CDC guidelines. I don’t see how else it could be done.

There are so many ifs, and the uncertainty is frustrating. We want to know the answers now. We want to prepare ourselves and our children for what they can expect in the fall.

But it’s just as well, I suppose. There’s a whole summer stretching out before us and no day camp to keep our kids busy, and that’s what we need to focus on right now. We’re just going to have to take it one season at a time.

It rained today, which was a blessing. Pollen levels had gotten very high. Our vehicles, normally dark blue, had turned yellow. The rain gave the vehicles a much needed rinse-off and cleansed the air.

When the pollen washes away, where does it go? It goes where the water goes, and gathers where the water gathers in puddles. In such large quantities, it doesn’t simply disappear. It paints the puddles. It outlines them and illuminates their inner turmoil.

As for what’s making the pollen, that perhaps will be the subject of a post later this week.

Today is the last day of school! I got up a little while ago and the kids were both in their rooms, on their computers, as they always are at this time of day. They have both been really good about signing in and attending their Google meets. I’m not saying they didn’t miss some assignments and that we didn’t have to stay on their cases to make sure everything ultimately got done. We did. But we didn’t have to keep an eye on them all day and force them to do all their routine schoolwork. They took care of that themselves, and I am proud of both of them for getting through this difficult school year. Great job, kids!

School isn’t over officially until tomorrow, but Marshall’s teachers dropped by the house today to say good-bye to him in person and to give him a graduation gift. It was so sad that he couldn’t even get close to them. I don’t know if he would have wanted to hug them, but the coronavirus took away the choice. This wasn’t the graduation ceremony that he deserved, but I’m happy that he was able to have at least this much.

To Marshall: Congratulations on finishing fifth grade! I know distance learning was a struggle, and not what you wanted, but you stuck with it. I am so proud of you!