Stories About The COVID Chronicles

People are not only hoarding toilet paper, but they’re also fighting over the stuff. Not just in the supermarket aisles, but in their homes.

Yes, egads. A mother and a son actually came to blows over tp! At least that’s what happened Monday in Los Angeles County when an adult son punched his mother for hiding the family stockpile of butt paper.

Why did she hide the stuff? you may ask. Well, apparently her bouncing baby — 23-years-old — was using too much. Now I don’t know what constitutes “too much” or why he was using “too much” or what words proceeded the actual fisticuffs, but police were called to the scene at about 3 a.m. The son was arrested and charged with battery.

In the words of the LA County Sheriff’s Department spokesperson, “This is the first arrest I’ve heard of that started out over an argument over toilet paper.”

The mother declined medical treatment. No information was provided regarding the status of the tp inventory.

And while toilet paper slugfests may sound silly, domestic violence is on the rise right now. If you need help, the National Domestic Hotline can help 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). You can also make a donation to this important cause.

Here at Maison G-W, I’m happy to report there’s no squabbling over toilet paper, TV shows or any of the other assorted trivia that goes with this dreary sheltering in place. It was just another “normal” day sequestered at home. Handsome Hubby worked and consulted with clients via phone and all the various video conference modes. I wrote and compulsively cleaned.

My primary cleaning mission – the office bookshelves. Before starting, I made a vow to donate at least a few books to the library, thus freeing up space for new books! I failed. I couldn’t part with one single book. I’m an unrepentant book hoarder.

All I accomplished was transferring seven books from office to bedroom, adding to an already precarious tower of tomes on my night table. Oh, well. At least, the books got a good dusting in the transfer process from room to room.

And so goes Day 24. Enjoy a good book tonight.

Hands red like a lobster. Butt sore like a pincushion from non-stop sitting. Shoulders ache like they’ve been punched. Eyes bleary from too much TV.

Sheltering Sundays – bananas pancakes, the newspapers, & no place to go.

It could be a normal Sunday. It should be a normal Sunday. Sleeping late. Getting up to Handsome Hubby’s pancakes and (vegan) bacon. The table covered in two newspapers.

But, unfortunately, it’s the “new” pandemic normal where you (or, at least, I) want to avoid the news and just keep my head under the covers, more ostrich, than informed citizen.

Yes, this is the third Sunday sheltering in place. The third Sunday with no place to go. No theater. No movies. No friends to visit or have over.

For me, and I suspect many of you, cabin fever is setting in.

So, HH and I went for a car ride. And we weren’t alone. A fair number of cars were on the road, doing the same thing, ogling the sights.

It was pretty fun actually, playing “tourist” in our neighborhood, reminiscing about the “good old days” — just three short weeks ago — when we strolled along Solano Avenue, went to the Oakland Museum, and ate at our favorite Greek restaurant.

Of course, as we drove, I was mostly eyeing all the fast-food restaurants, jones-ing for a burger and let me make this 100 percent clear — a hamburger. I mean, yes, I love Handsome Hubby, but sheltering-in-place with a vegan is no walk-in-the-deli, no-walk-in-Morton’s Steak House. It is, well, you get my point, meatless HELL. Yes, I could broil myself a steak, but the smell of meat makes HH blanch or turn green, neither of which are attractive color choices for my plant-based man. So, I suffer in semi-silence.

And while you might think I took a wrong turn off onto a food tangent instead of talking about our brief drive about town, food was the main attraction for both of us — noticing all the restaurants “open” for take-out and delivery. People may be worrying and living indoors. They may be wearing masks when they’re out, but for the ladies (and gentlemen) who lunch and munch and dine, life goes on “gourmet-ing” as usual, at least sort of.

And I’m not criticizing it. Because as Virginia Woolf said in a Room of One’s Own, “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”

In addition, all these restaurants and fast-food spots keep a part of the economy going and some number of people employed. So, that’s something.

And so goes Day 20. Unbelievable. Day 20. Stay healthy. Eat healthily.

I’m gonna confess. I was feeling pretty blue this morning. We’re all still heading into the storm and it feels terrible.

Handsome Hubby and I went for an early morning walk usually cause for celebration, but this morning despite the bright skies and the blooming flowers, it wasn’t fun.

For a minute, things seemed normal. Then we walked past the sweet little children’s park three blocks from our home. No children. No dogs. No activity. Just yellow “caution” tape. Yellow “caution” tape everywhere … on the picnic tables … on the jungle gym set (is that what it’s still called?) … and all around the little blue bouncing hobbyhorse. It looked like a crime scene.

An empty city bus rolled by. Without even thinking about it, I waved to the driver. She waved back. Such forlorn gestures.

Strange times.

Back home, I decided to engage in some retail therapy. I’ve resisted so far, but there’s only so much online hunting for toilet paper and Purell a woman can do. I needed a little fun.

I was amazed at how quickly and cunningly clever retailers have adapted to our new online work and play-at-home reality.

One ad for a blouse promoted “Style for the camera,” adding “For a video call or a virtual happy hour, you’ll be ready for your close-up.” The blouse didn’t strike my fancy, but I loved the pitch!

Another ad for a pale lime green pajama-y two-piece number hailed “the new business casual” with its “laid-back looks for the commute-free life.” All I can say to that is whoever thought I’d long for the days of toe-pinching heels and waist-constricting Spanx?

And guys, be of good cheers, there’s stylish sheltering-in-place fashion fun for you, too! I found a section of chic exercise clothes. It came with the promise “No membership required” — “exercising from the comfort of home is easy when you’ve got the right gear.”

Yes, it’s a strange world.

And so goes Day 18. Stay healthy and chic or, at the very least, cozy and comfortable!