Notes from the pandemic

When the pandemic began, I thought it prudent to keep a record of my daily activities; I did this to make it easier for contact tracing, should I ever test positive for COVID-19. Eventually, I stopped writing daily. Weeks would pass without an entry, and eventually, months. 

After a while, it just didn’t seem to matter.

The following excerpts are from the first 28 Days of my journaling, followed by a few from the following months, concluding with an entry from November 2020.

TUESDAY, MARCH 10—No coughing or sneezing in either direction today. I dropped Anne at Howard as usual and then arrived at work by 7:30. I made certain to use hand sanitizer when opening and closing doors. As instructed, I wiped my keyboard, phone, mouse, and armrests (I actually sprayed them with disinfectant) upon arrival. I used hand sanitizer often, and am becoming more fond of it daily; my skin does not seem to be as dry as last week. After retrieving Anne from work we went to Vinfarm for a light dinner and were home by 6:30.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 11--I dropped in and arrived at the station by 7:15. I stayed in all day, talking and meeting about the coronavirus. No shock there. I left to retrieve Anne at 4 PM, then we stooped at Michael’s (and briefly at Starbucks on Oregon 62) so Anne could get some supplies for her students’ science experiment on cells. We stopped at Kaleidoscope Pizza at 5 PM for a quick bite before heading home to watch President Trump address the nation. Earlier today, the Dow dropped to bear market status, Oregon learned of four more confirmed cases of COVID-19, and the NCAA said their tournament will be held in empty arenas. Yes, today was different. More of the same hand washing / sanitizing for me, but changes and news seemed to come every few minutes. I’m not exactly looking forward to what tomorrow brings. I’m taking precautions like crazy and don’t think I’ll get sick, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was slightly concerned about what might happen across the country. Having worked in Los Angeles during the riots and Northridge earthquake, and been in Nicaragua when civil unrest broke out in the summer of 1990, I’ve seen how people react under chaotic conditions, and it’s not always pretty.  My life was never in danger in those circumstances, but people are not necessarily themselves when faced with something they’ve never experienced before. Tonight, Trump sounded more presidential than I’ve heard before.  The next few weeks will be interesting. 

THURSDAY, MARCH 12—Dropped Anne at Howard and went to the station by 7:30. It was just a typical day with the wheels falling off the planet. Gatherings of greater than 250 people are nixed, though it means we’ll get a refund on the play tickets we purchased, so there is that. Also, the school district is restricting visitors to the schools, so I can no longer help Anne set up or take down items in her room. Also, I can’t say that I’m not looking forward to a break in professional sports, though I wouldn’t mind seeing a baseball game played in an empty stadium. We stopped for dinner on the way home at a Mexican restaurant we like. They’ve not seen a downturn of customers yet, so that’s good. I had a slight cough today, but it’s do to allergies, which I get this time of year. Though now, whenever one coughs or sneezes, I wonder for a second if they’re ok. Crazy. I had no close contact with strangers today, except for the elderly woman who fell and couldn’t get up. Another patron and I each grabbed an arm and hoisted her to a seat, and then I continued to the restroom to wash my hands. Oh, and the Dow is still draining like crazy. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

FRIDAY, MARCH 13—Awoke to news that Anne’s spring break would begin a week earlier than planned, as Governor Brown reluctantly closed schools through the end of March, starting Monday. For teachers, spring break would arrive when students left this afternoon. As usual, I dropped Anne at Howard and went to the station by 7:30. Maybe on Monday, I’ll remember to spray disinfectant on my phone, mouse, keyboard, and armrests prior to storing my lunch in the fridge and such, as it would give it time to dry before settling in. Folks in the office seemed healthy, even as the president was declaring a national emergency, “two very big words.” We’ve seen countless news briefs from schools, businesses, and government agencies, all telling us that they’re doing what they can to keep people safe: washing hands, sanitizing surfaces, keeping a safe distance, etc. Josephine County held a press conference to tell people they were ready for the first case, and that members of the health community are prepared. Personally, I presume people who know better are doing what they’re supposed to be doing, but there has always been a need to “do something,” even if it means telling people they’re doing nothing but what they’re supposed to be doing. From this point forward presume I’m washing my hands, using sanitizer, and keeping a safe distance from others, except Jolie, the co-owner and host of Carson’s Bistro, our favorite restaurant, where we went directly from work at 4: 30. I sent her a text and asked for our customary table, the one located six feet from others and close to the dessert station (her desserts are amazing). During dinner, we chatted with her when she wasn’t greeting and seating others, or prepping one of those sublime desserts. As we rose to leave she came to say goodbye. As customary I leaned in for a hug, this time making certain to hold my breath as I approached, doing my part to be safe with others.

SATURDAY, MARCH 14—We went to the farmers market but were there for two minutes and didn’t buy anything. We then went to the cheese cave in Phoenix, ate breakfast, and bought some cheese. After stopping at Puck’s Donuts, where we learned they made 20 dozen donuts for the local Costco to serve to their employees, who have been working crazy hard, and that Costco had $1.3 million in sales yesterday, We stopped at a store so Anne could buy a couple of stress balls and putty for her students, should she ever see them again. We then both went into the Ashland Food Co-Op for about 20 minutes, then it was back to the cheese cave to buy baguettes from Philip, a man from Lyon who graduated from bread school, makes excellent baguettes, and has a great accent. Oh, we also bought some French Brie, then headed to Cowhorn Winery to retrieve our wine club shipment. Cowhorn had canceled their wine release party today because they expected more than 250 people, but they remained open so the straggling public could come by. We figured since it was canceled there would not be too many people, but dozens believed as we did and showed up as well. After the tasting, we left for home and ate some of that cheese and baguette. After meeting friends for breakfast tomorrow we may scale back our time in public. The cheese shop, while quaint, was filled with 8-10 people, some hovering over a large sample plate of cheese, some of which we ended up taking home. While people were taking pains to use toothpicks, and the proprietor was constantly changing gloves, the proximity to that many people was not a sound choice. But damn, that cheese is good.

SUNDAY, MARCH 15—Last night, after yesterday’s extravaganza, we discussed the merits of staying home but for limited shopping. I think it was something Anne read about people in Italy over 60 possibly being denied a ventilator if there was a shortage. We canceled our planned breakfast with two of our friends, and they had called first to tell us they were feeling likewise, so we dined at home. Then a neighbor came by to chat and sat on the other side of the loveseat from me. I moved across the room and sat elsewhere, and she apologized for not keeping her distance, then told us this is nothing more than the flu, and isn’t it amazing how quickly the government got us penned up at home. We chatted for a few minutes and I left to find a mini-spray bottle and some 91% alcohol; Walgreens had neither, Rite Aid had the bottle, and Safeway next door had lust stocked the alcohol. I left with two and had no urge to buy toilet paper, which they had. I came home and drove Anne to Fred Meyer to retrieve something she needed, but not before filling my bottle with alcohol. We then went to the dollar store to buy some classroom supplies. I found more spray bottles and some gloves, which I bought to wear inside the store while shopping, figuring it would be easier than spraying my hands every five minutes, which I’d been doing since I entered the store. All the while I’ve been managing to keep a good distance from others, avoiding any aisle with another human present. Anne didn’t like the fit or feel of the gloves I bought, so we went to the Grange Co-Op and found cotton gloves for $0.99 per pair. I purchased two pairs for me, and I hope nobody considers that hoarding. We stopped for lunch at Ban Mai, where the woman serving sat us on the opposite side of the room from the other group, wore gloves the entire time we were there, and was cautious to stay a safe distance while talking. We made a quick trip to a local winery to take advantage of their 50% price sale and happened to arrive while the room was empty. They said we missed the rush, and that people were not staying away at all. Except for the Thai Restaurant, everywhere we go, it’s been business as usual. On our way home we stopped at Dollar General for a package of baby wipes, which we keep in our car. Anne found two packs and was about to take them when a man with diapers in his cart came by. She saw the diapers and said he could take them, as he needed them more than we did. We bought gas at the Chevron station by our house. Once home, I removed the credit cards from my wallet and sprayed them with alcohol. Buying two bottles may have been a smart move.

MONDAY, MARCH 16—On the last night for a month when we could dine out, we elected to stay in. “Cheers! Happy pandemic,” Anne said, as we toasted to a rapidly changing world. The governor ordered public gatherings to no more than 25, down from her order of 250 last week. Pretty soon it will be limited to no greater than the number of people who could fit in a phone booth, and that may be all that’s left if people don’t begin staying away from others. To that goal, bars and restaurants are closed for four weeks, allowing takeaway food orders only. We did our part tonight by staying home. Anne did swim at the gym and went to the store. With the Governor’s order landing in the ears of the great unwashed, I asked her to grab a few items, fearing people panic and make a rush on the stores again. While in Safeway she observed an elderly woman approximately 10-15 feet in front of her cough into the air without pretending to care. Thankfully she was turned away from Anne, but it was enough incentive for Anne to get the hell out. But for a quick trip to the bird store to purchase suet and sunflower seeds, I spent the day at work. My ride in was beautiful, as there was a dusting of snow along part of the route. The scenery--and 35-degree temperature—allowed me to forget about coronavirus for a minute or two.

TUESDAY, MARCH 17—Anne’s time off from school has been extended another 28 days, and 18 more people have tested positive, bringing the state total to 65. Still, there is no positive test result in Josephine County. Today was the first day when restaurants, bars, and wineries are forbidden to serve seated guests. One cannot buy a slice of pizza at Costco, so I’ve been told, and their pizza is not worth risking interaction with others. After my Sunday post, a former colleague chastised my stupid behavior and unfriended me on Facebook. Why Stuart felt it necessary to do so is beyond me. The only trip I made today was to and from work, stopping for gas in Rogue River, where I spoke with nobody (I rang it up myself). Anne ran to Gooseberries for Brewers yeast and dishwashing detergent. The store did not receive its shipment today, and much of the fresh produce was absent. Tomorrow she’ll attend her yoga class, where the gym promises to keep the facility to fewer than 25 people. She’ll keep her distance, which should be easy, as there were only three others the other day.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 18—Anne did yoga with three others in a room of approximately 500 sq. feet. The gym had disinfectant spray and wipes, with monitors everywhere to assure safe social distancing. She was the lone user of the women’s locker room, too. Upon leaving she noticed the rear tire was low, so she stopped at Les Schwab and stood away from the counter to conduct the transaction. It felt weird to her, but the three behind the counter understood. Welcome to the new normal. Once again, I rode directly to and from work, but not before reading a piece from Reuters about a study by the National Institutes of Health that determined the novel coronavirus can remain infectious in the air for hours, and on some surfaces for days. So it’s airborne, which helps explain its virulence. It now makes sense how 475 of my Italian siblings perished overnight.

THURSDAY, MARCH 19—Anne stayed away from the gym, and from other people when she went to the store. Home Depot had a replacement furnace filter for ours, which was filthy. She asked an associate a question and the woman came walking over; Anne put up her hand and said, “social distance, please.” The woman stopped and apologized, and said it’s second nature to be attentive and helpful. Gooseberries had bread but lacked chicken, though Cartwright’s had meat, so she now has enough for several weeks. Gooseberries had individually wrapped fig bars, as did the Farmers Market, where I stopped for an avocado and some fig bars. Now I have enough of them for a month, as well as organic black beans. Finding groceries and sundry items is now the highlight of my day, along with not running a fever. Things are worse in California, where just now Governor Newsom ordered everyone to stay at home, effective this evening. Governor Brown briefed the media today, saying that she was forming a group to determine a list of essential businesses that would remain open if it became necessary to issue a similar ruling as Newsom’s. She said it was only preparatory, not yet being planned. She wants to be ready in case. I’m betting we’ll be sheltering in place before two weeks, no earlier than Tuesday.

FRIDAY, MARCH 20--Josephine County had its first confirmed case today, an employee with Asante, a local health system. Anne stayed away from the gym for a second day, and it will likely be her last. The day began with me thinking the governor might choose to order shelter in place, so I asked Anne to go to the store for whatever items we may not have retrieved in the previous 243 trips we made during the past month. She began at the Ashland Food Co-Op, then went to the Medford Co-Op, Wild Birds Unlimited, and then Costco, where she didn’t go in because the line stretched around several sides of the building. They were limiting people to approximately 25 to allow social distancing inside, requiring those waiting outside to queue within a couple of feet from each other, else they stretch beyond the property. I hitched a ride home with a coworker Casey, then ordered a coffee and waited at Starbucks in Grants Pass for Anne to retrieve me. It was home for the night afterward. At 7 pm Governor Brown held a press conference, where I was certain she would declare shelter in place. Instead, she announced a campaign called “Stay Home, Stay Safe.” She suggested people behave and adhere to social distancing in public, and stay home except for trips for groceries or medicine. She said more rulings would follow on Monday. Mayor Wheeler of Portland seemed to be leaning toward calling for more stringent measures. I think they’re taking the weekend to see how many municipalities across the state will be willing to shut down retail. Otherwise, I think Wheeler will make that choice on Monday regardless. Stay tuned.

SATURDAY, MARCH 21--I awoke to a bittersweet text from the owner of our favorite restaurant, Carson’s Bistro. She said they chose to close for safety reasons after being open for one night of takeaway meals. Passing out meals to lord knows how many people is just not sound. We went to the Growers Market early. They’ve moved it outside for the season, and approximately 1/3 of the vendors were absent, along with a crowd approximately 25% of its normal size. Everyone seems to get it now. The vendors wore gloves and kept items out of the reach of people. There was a handwashing station at the entrance. At least one vendor had hand sanitizer. Another asked people to leave money at the end of the table. I wore gloves, and sprayed my debit card with alcohol before returning it to my wallet. Anne and our neighbor Laurie took a socially acceptable walk to look at a property for sale down the street, then Anne dropped a prepaid package at the postal annex and I went into the hardware store for weed barrier, navigating around people as if I were avoiding creatures in a game of Pac-Man; I stayed six feet away from everyone but Anne today. We’re in for the night, where we’ll have dined for the fourth consecutive evening. We’ll not eat takeaway unless it’s an emergency. We would have supported Carson’s by taking out a meal on occasion because we want them to succeed, but we would not take that chance for anyone else.

SUNDAY, MARCH 22—I went to bed last night thinking today would be the first day we’d need not venture out. I woke up and realized this morning that we needed another flowerpot. I donned an N95 mask and took advantage of geezer hours at the Grange Co-Op, arriving before they opened at 9 a.m. We were the fifth car in line and were out within five minutes. We stopped at Diamond Home Improvement for some pavers and sand. I wore my mask and was indoors long enough to pay. Anne donned her mask and grabbed ice cream next door, where nobody inside was practicing social distancing, She said she’ll wear her mask from now on and will avoid takeaway from this point forward. I called my sister for her birthday. Because of her age, she, her husband, a tenant, and my brother have been staying home for 12 days. My nephew works at Whole Foods and brings them groceries, leaving the food in a spot where my brother can retrieve them without close contact. As a checker in a grocery store, my nephew is in a high-risk category for exposure, which has us all worried about his health. I don’t know if he wears a mask or not, but I do know the shortage of masks is so severe that local hospitals are asking people to donate any surplus masks they may have.

MONDAY, MARCH 23—Finally, the state has shut down, though restaurants are still allowed to provide takeaway. When I moved to Oregon, my hair was down to my shoulders. It may get that long again, as salons are shuttered until further notice, though Anne might cut it in my sleep if this carries into 2021. On my way to work, I rolled past Costco to see how long the line was, figuring it worth be worth a mention in one of our broadcasts. Turns out there was no line, and geezer hours were on, so I stopped for a few groceries. Costco rivals an ER for cleanliness right now. The carts were sanitized; the counter at customer service was damp; many of the employees wore gloves. I was out within 10 minutes, having purchased no more than could be carried on my scooter. There were several dozen shoppers. I hope hours for the elderly remain when this is all over. I came home after work and learned that Anne went only to the bank, utilizing the drive-thru teller, and made no other stops all day. As soon the chief engineer determines the glitch that will not allow me to answer my work phone on my computer, I suspect I’ll be on my way to working from home. I honestly feel less at risk having made trips out these past two weeks than working in an office with a select group of people who come and go to cover assignments. I can navigate a keep clear of a crowd but am otherwise sitting in a room with people walking about. Even with a six-foot buffer, the air swirls around us. I’ll have a better view at home, can work in sweatpants or shorts, and can speak freely without people feeling as if I suddenly developed Tourette syndrome.

TUESDAY, MARCH 24--Anne stayed home, I went to work, and three more people in Oregon died. Jackson County had its third positive result, and it was the first from community spread. My office line is now forwarded to my computer and I’ll be working from home for the foreseeable future. I now feel as if I’m part of the crowd that is experiencing a different way of life. Working from home is a relief that will only be fully realized after two weeks. Even though I feel fine, there is that nagging notion that I could begin to feel ill. Lately, I’ve had a sore throat and minor cough, and I remind myself that it’s just allergies (they come and go, and I get them every year around this time). I am thankful to have a great view. As I gaze across the city skyline, everything looks normal.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 25--Ah, the joys of working from home cannot be overstated. At work, I see turkeys on the patio. At home, I see deer in the front yard and rainfall across the valley. Today I worked barefoot, drank a second carafe of coffee, and ate at my desk. We never started the car, and I never needed hand sanitizer. Oregon recorded 57 new positive results--the most so far in a 24-hour period to date--and two more died. Jackson and Josephine each have a new positive case. Sitting at home, where everything seems normal, yields a feeling of security, keeping the virus at bay. President Trump wants the country opened by Easter if possible, and I want the Easter Bunny to convince the president that Easter does not come until September this year. You Know, it’s never on the same date every year.

THURSDAY, MARCH 26--We’re #1! Yes, folks, today the United States passed China for the top spot in the world for the number of COVID-19 cases, with 85,505 positive test results, thanks to New York, which recorded 6,448 cases overnight. The death toll in the US is 1,290, putting us fifth behind Italy, Spain, China, and Iran. Maybe it’s time to start calling it the United States virus. Governor Cuomo asked for 30,000 ventilators from the federal government. He got 400. But don’t despair, high school students in Southern Oregon are using 3D printers to print face shields and other items of PPE because it takes a village when the leader is a former game show host. The local project has engineers designing pieces for a ventilator that can be printed on 3D printers. And James Dyson of vacuum cleaner fame designed a ventilator in just 10 days. He plans to distribute 15,000 units. Today, President Trump said he plans to label different areas according to their risk factor, meaning people in lower-risk areas could potentially have their quarantine and social distancing requirements reduced. I don’t care how relaxed the risk designation gets--I’m not getting close to strangers until I get vaccinated. And I’ve shaken my last hand. On the home front, we stayed put for a second day, and that's fine with me. Our view overlooking the city of Grants Pass yields a sense of space, helping us to not feel as hemmed in. Beyond our bedroom window is the Josephine County Fairgrounds, where we can see turn three of Grants Pass Downs, which will be quiet for a while, as they canceled the spring season today. One more person died in Oregon, and Josephine County recorded two more positive test results today. Our county now has four positive results, putting us just two behind Greenland. If we don’t catch them tomorrow it’s ok, because let’s face it: we’re all playing the long game.

FRIDAY, MARCH 27--Another death in Oregon, another case each in Josephine and Klamath Counties, and two more in Jackson County. It’s really a blur now. Oregon had 98 new cases--the most for a single period yet here. The Oregon Shakespeare Festival laid off approximately 80% of its staff today, including actors who now won’t work through the summer. The plan is for OSF to open come September. After 11 days of eating at home, we caved and got takeaway Thai at Ban Mai, which was where we had our last meal out. Otherwise, we were inside all day, from where I saw a bald eagle fly past our house. I've not looked forward to yard work as much as I am right now.

SATURDAY, MARCH 28--More cases in Southern Oregon, another death in the state brings us to 13. The death toll nationwide doubled in the past 48 hours, bringing the total to more than 2,100. Today we went to Grower's Market, where only food purveyors were allowed. The craft vendors were there last week but away this week. No eating was allowed, and the woman overseeing the market walked around with a six-foot-long stick to assure social distancing. Grants Pass is finally beginning to look like a ghost town. Anne went to Fred Fred Meyer, and we stopped to shoot video of a car fire on the way home. For dinner, we open a 19-year-old Barolo to accompany ravioli from Costco because why not?

SUNDAY, MARCH 29--No COVID-19 deaths in Oregon today, but more positive cases in Southern Oregon. We went to Troon Winery to buy a couple of bottles of wine, then stopped at Gooseberries for a few groceries. Nobody was at Troon but the lone server, who wore gloves when taking my debit card. Anne went inside Gooseberries. She returns to work tomorrow, via computer at her desk in the bedroom.

MONDAY, MARCH 30--Today, we learned that one of the cases in Southern Oregon involves an employee from our local Costco, whose normal shift is between 8 am - 9:45 pm, with Tuesdays and Wednesdays off. We learned that they work in the front of the store and that their last shift was last Monday. Last Monday, I went to the service desk in front of Costco at 8:15 am to get a temporary Costco ID. One fellow was wiping down the counter with disinfectant, and the other was helping me. Both wore gloves. After asking for my name, the one helping me asked if he could have my driver’s license. I said no. Normally I’d have handed it over, but not now. I told him I’d show him, but he asked if I could set it on the counter. It was a compromise I could live with. He punched the keys, printed my temporary ID, folded it neatly and handed it over. I was out the door 20 minutes later. As I read the letter yesterday, shared by a Costco associate, the data registered as if I were watching a lottery draw: Costco;  front of the store; 8 am; last Monday; positive COVID-19. I read it several times, then checked my diary and confirmed that the data matched my visit. Such knowledge was a bit unsettling, but I was not panicking. I ran through the visit again and recalled that I did everything I could. I didn’t hand over my ID, I stayed six feet or farther away, and spayed my hands and debit card with alcohol before driving away. A while later, I called Costco and asked to speak with a manager. I told him I’d seen the letter addressed to employees, and ran through my timeline. He confirmed that neither of the two I dealt with that morning was the person who tested positive. I was glad to hear it. Today, we worked from home and went out only to retrieve a pizza and calzone from Catalyst Pizza. We returned home. While eating we opened the door for a coworker who brought me a new keyboard and mouse, which was soon wet with alcohol. 

TUESDAY, MARCH 31--People are tired. I’m tired. Beat down is a better term. I’m not pessimistic--I know we’ll get through this. Life will look different when we’re through, and we’ll adapt. We’ll be fine. Right now, life is a slog for all of us. I worked in LA during the riots of 1992 and the Northridge Earthquake. I was in Nicaragua in the summer of 1990 when the people took back the streets for several days and shut down the country over failed promises from the new president. I’ve seen people deal with unique adversity and come through fine if they weren't killed in the process. For me, this pandemic feels like, “here we go again!” This is different from the other incidents in that it is happening worldwide, not just in an isolated community. In LA, one knew that around the corner could be someone with a gun willing to shoot, or that another aftershock could bring down the ceiling above. Now, we all know there is a virus out there spreading like ink drops on a blotter. Not one of us knows if or when it might hit, or if we’ll even know when it does  (The CDC thinks as many as 25% of those infected could be asymptomatic). Having experienced the incidents mentioned here, I feel better prepared to deal with the unknown adversity now. We’re being as safe as possible without resorting to a bunker mentality, and the statistics indicate that most will be just fine, but it’s still a slog.

ps--I left the house to cover a food giveaway and shoot some footage of handmade signs on a fence. 

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 1--Anne left to go to school and help distribute meals to students, then went to the bagel shop in Ashland, and then the co-op, then she returned home, where we stayed for the day.

THURSDAY, APRIL 2--We stayed home but ran out to grab takeaway at our favorite dining spot. It won’t be as charming as dining inside, but the food will be great and we’ll be supporting their prospects of re-opening.

FRIDAY, APRIL 3--Hoover had a Chicken for Every Pot. Trump now has a mask for every face. The mask idea is sound and came down today as a recommendation from the CDC.So far, the president doesn’t think it’s absolutely necessary and says he likely won’t wear one when he greets other heads of state. By then, he may be the only head of state in the room not wearing one. Medical experts are uncertain if the virus might not be transferable through common conversation, so let’s be safe and all wear masks. I once worked with a woman who would sometimes say, “ Yippee screw!,”, which I learned meant, “Ain’t this a fine mess we have here.” Yep, it sure is. Worldwide, nearly 1.1. million people have tested positive, including more than 277,000 in the U.S. Nearly 59,000 people have died. Oregon is one shy of 900 positive results. Not to dwell on the negative any longer, today I knocked off work at 4 pm and went for a walk with Anne in Riverside Park, where we didn’t get within 50 feet of anyone. We saw several Wood ducks which are quite unusual here; neither of us had ever seen one, and today we saw three, two of which we saw at Reinhart Volunteer Park. In both parks, the ducks and geese practiced social distancing, making certain we could not get within six feet of them. On our way home, we drove past Carson’s Bistro and stopped to speak with the proprietors, who were standing appropriately separated on the sidewalk. We stayed in our car and chatted, as had been customary on Fridays before the pandemic, the only difference being we’d otherwise be sitting inside with glasses of wine. Tonight we were parked facing the wrong direction on a desolate street in front of an empty restaurant, resigned to the hands we’ve all been dealt. Yippee Screw!

SATURDAY, APRIL 4--The day began with a trip to the growers market to quickly purchase three items and ended with a pair of newlyweds joining us for dinner--six feet away. In between were two brief trips to Carson’s to pick up champagne and dinner, and a wedding in our front yard with dozens from around the country joining in via Zoom. Earlier this week, when I heard that my News Director was getting married via Zoom, I offered to document the event for him and his fianceeé. They wanted something scenic and close to shelter in case it rained, and they accepted our offer to have it at our house. I mainly used my 200mm lens. Anne stood 20 feet away, and when it came time to toast, we did so with arms stretched forward, keeping a safe distance.

SUNDAY, APRIL 5--We stayed home but for a brief trip to the store to get some teaching supplies for Anne. Not much else to report besides Oregon surpassing 1,000 positive test results. And it seems as if every third friend I know is learning how to make their own surgical mask, which is likely far easier than learning to convert a hairdryer or vacuum into a home ventilator.

MONDAY, APRIL 6--I took a few walks around the yard today, and Anne ventured no farther than the mailbox, 100 feet beyond our driveway..I worked from home, calling to book Zoom interviews with various subjects. I also fielded calls to the newsroom. Increasingly, people are calling to tell us or ask us about a group of people playing tennis, or basketball, or golf, and wondering if or why it’s ok, and what might be done about it. A few have called to tell us that a child or grandchild came to their house and left a message of hope and love scrawled on paper taped to a window, or in a chalk drawing on their driveway All of them wonder if it’s newsworthy for any reason. All of them seem to need to tell somebody. After I explain that some activities are ok, or that some people will ignore the advice to not gather in groups, or that a familial gesture is charming and sweet, people say, “thank you for listening.” For those choosing to isolate for a greater good, a phone call to another may be more important than usual. If listening helps I’ll happily do so.

THURSDAY, MAY 28--Tonight I’ll endeavor to write about something good, and not focus on COVID-19. Were it any other night, I might choose to write about waiting for a tepid pizza as a son of Mississippi played harmonica in the garden at the Applegate Country Club--a fancy name for a wood-fired pizza joint, staffed by lovely people who don’t wear masks and fit in with every other patron tonight. He had a good spirit about him, telling us how he was there to comfort his girlfriend, whose cat was run over earlier today, and how he, having grown up on a farm, was tasked with disposing of Willa, a siamese. He offered to shake my hand as he left to smoke weed with others, and was not offended when I begged off, offering his elbow instead. I was cool with that. Instead, I’ll look back to this date, 14 years ago, when Anne and I were married in Ross Hamilton’s front yard. It was one of the better choices either of us has made. Together, we persevere through adversity, standing strong when the other buckles. Together, we move forward at whatever pace is possible. Together, we dream, laugh, cry, miss our children, mourn the loss of George Floyd, and look forward to better days ahead. Together, I know those days will come.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 4--This weekend, the Jammin’ Salmon pub just over the county line was packed full. One might say they were slammed. Slammed is what the OLCC did today, immediately removing their liquor license due to transgressions during a pandemic. Charged with violating social distancing and face-covering requirements, they face other possible penalties as well. What did they do, one might ask?

An OLCC inspector reported that the Jammin Salmon was packed with patrons, many spilling out of the bar and carrying away alcoholic beverages as they left. According to the inspector, the bar’s inside service areas and outside patios were crowded with several hundred people, with only about 10 percent of them wearing any face coverings.

That‘ll do it.

Like yesterday, Anne and I stayed home.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 5--It’s been a while, and thoughts of death inspire me tonight. Three deaths in particular in the past 48 hours, to be exact. Stan Shaw, a former co-worker, was the epitome of health. He was a monster on his bicycle, fit as anyone I’ve known. If he said he had just ridden to work from 125 miles away, I’d not have thought it odd. He succumbed to heart failure after a ride. He was 61. Yesterday, a caller to a local news outlet said a woman had jumped from the shoulder and nearly hit their car earlier on Interstate 5. Moments later they saw her from their rear-view mirror, standing in the lane. Later, they learned of a woman struck and killed, and presumed it was the same woman. Lorna Peterson was struck by a big rig. She was 70. On Saturday evening I heard sirens, and then fire engines slowing down. I turned on a scanner app to listen to Grants Pass Fire and Rescue just in time to hear dispatch say, “The caller just keeps saying it’s really, really bad.” Moments later, an officer reported a male in the roadway with massive head trauma. Seconds later he said, “Confirmed, DOA.” Timothy Frank Morningstar was 68. He died within view of my bedroom window. As a journalist, I’m accustomed to death. It does not make it easier when I hear of someone I knew had died, and often suicide is considered as something that happens to people and I shrug it off as it’s a sad shame. I hope Lorna and Frank’s deaths are simply coincidental tragedies, and not the beginning of a trend we learn is a desperate outcome of our time. May they all rest in peace, and may we all find some peace. Tomorrow is another day.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2020--I thought of counting the cases or noting the death toll since my last post, then realized it was pointless. There will just be more. Much more. Today, Jackson County reported seven deaths overnight. It was a record. The state reported 1,225 cases and 20 deaths, both records for a 24-hour cycle. Staffed hospital beds down here are 80% full. I spoke with one person in the healthcare industry who said the rising case numbers coupled with the shortage of staffed beds was scary. The governor’s two-week shutdown went into effect yesterday, and several county boards of commissioners feel it unfairly impacts businesses. Local law enforcement agencies say they will try and educate people about face coverings and social distancing. Translation: They won’t be writing tickets or enforcing the governor’s mandate. So we have various health departments trying to educate people and convince them we need to stay safe and wear face coverings, boards of commissioners advocating that businesses remain open, and police agencies unwilling to cite transgressors. And we haven’t even seen Thanksgiving, that day when everything is always closed anyway, and people gather with others from near and far to spend hours inside a warm room. I would not be shocked to see Oregon report 2,000 cases before 2021. Let’s all cross our freshly-washed fingers hope that we have a reason to say: “happy new year.”