It’s Saturday. Time to slow down and relax. But how do you celebrate the weekend in these troubled days?

“Normally” the weekend means there’s no need to rush out the door. No need to get dressed up. Just hang out in your sweats or jammies.

Great, but we’re all doing that already. Here in Northern California, we’ve NOT been rushing around for 12 days – except to find toilet paper! We’ve NOT been getting dressed up. And we’ve NOT worn anything BUT our sweats and jammies.

Still, it’s Saturday and I’m going to do my best to enjoy the weekend. I’ve got a simple plan. All it requires is Handsome Hubby (and a little popcorn). In a few minutes, I’m going to hunker down on the couch with HH for a little extra cuddle (and popcorn) time.

Who knows? I’m so grateful for our good health, I may even agree to watch The Terminator for the 57th time!

And so goes Day 12. But even though it’s the weekend, please remember not to get lax about washing your hands.

If your paws aren’t chapped by now, you’re obviously not washing them enough! Mine look like I’ve wintered at the Arctic Circle sans gloves.

Today’s Observation: If we don’t get sick, we’ll emerge from this ordeal healthier than ever!

Here at Maison Galatz-Wellinghoff, we’re religiously taking daily walks. Why even sea slugs me is — unprompted and uncomplainingly — stretching, lifting (little) weights, and doing squats!

And instead of eating high-caloric meals out with friends, we’re home, chopping up and chowing down on healthy organic veggies and “riced” cauliflower. Yes, gone — at least for now — are the high-living dessert days of “Let’s split the cheesecake and the chocolate soufflé.”

That said, nobody is living la Vida Loca these days. Last night instead of drooling over cookie recipes or planning a fancy dinner party for friends, I shared the CDC’s recommended “homebrew” recipe for disinfectant and the Nebraska Medical Center’s formula for hand sanitizer. Here’s the link for both formulas.

And for those of you not in the know (include me until I read the article with the “recipes”), the Nebraska Medical Center is famous for its treatment of Ebola patients. Yes, knowing this kind of stuff is proof I’m not living the life I want right now.

Meanwhile, while we all continue doing the Coronavirus Shuffle as Handsome Hubby calls our required time at home, here’s something that’s got my blood boiling. I’m running low on dishwasher detergent. The brand I use comes in large batches that last three-plus months. It normally sells for about $14. Today on Amazon, the price was $49. That’s wrong. That’s la Vida Loca!

Tidbit of the Day: “The Girl Scouts sell more than 200 million boxes of cookies, generating nearly $800 million — sales that surpass not only Oreos but also Milano cookies and Chips Ahoy combined.” This according to The Lily.

Today — 108 years ago — my father was born. He was six during the 1918 flu epidemic in NYC. My mother was one. I wonder about the thoughts and lives of their families during that crisis. What information did they have to guide them? Were they scared or did life go on as usual? Did my family lose loved ones in New York or Europe? I don’t know. My parents never spoke of it. They were, of course, so young, but my grandmother never did either.

I also wonder about the 2020 coronavirus epidemic. What will my children and my sixteen-year-old great-nephew say about it in the years to come?

As I sit and think about these great unknowns, I also ponder a fair amount of minutiae.
Examples:

1. How maddening it is that my favorite sweater is — at this moment — trapped at the dry cleaners.
2. How retailers are going to have some mess on their hands when we consumers finally get to UPS to return all the online purchases that have been accumulating in our houses.

I also deliberated asking my kind neighbor Kimberly who is grocery shopping for us to add M&Ms to the list. It’s not exactly an essential item. It’s not exactly heavy. But is it the proverbial item that breaks the good neighbor’s grocery bag?

And from NYC, just before the order to stay inside was issued, a friend observed a woman stocking up on Cool Whip. She had five tubs of the white faux fluff in her cart, and when the person in front of her wasn’t looking, she swiped another tub from that person’s cart!

For some (me), it’s bananas. For others, it’s Cool Whip. Whatever gets you through a pandemic I guess. But swiping somebody’s Cool Whip? That’s just not cool!

But, wait, bananas with Cool Whip. Hum …

“Yoo-hoo, Kimberly, can I add just one more itsy-bitsy thing to the shopping list?”

And so goes Day 8. Stay healthy. Stay sane with a dash of silliness.

Oh, I’m sorry. One more item. Texas Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick wants the elderly to get out there and shop — i.e. risk their lives — for the sake of the economy. Speaking on Tucker Carlson Tonight, Patrick said, “Tucker, no one reached out to me and said, ‘As a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren?’ And if that’s the exchange, I’m all in.”

My only reply: Oh, my.

First, an update on our whirlwind social scene:

Last night’s “virtual” dinner was lovely. We dined with six friends via Café Zoom and I have to say it was fun. Not stilted or awkward in the least. Jokes and deep thoughts flowed freely from table to table across the Internet. We didn’t make the same dinner or dress up as other friends have done for their virtual dinners, but we had a blast. We compared the books we’re reading and checked in about how distant loved ones are doing and coping. It’s a strange way to keep “close,” but so it goes in the Coronavirus Era.

Who wants to join us for the next Café Zoom dinner? I don’t want to sound “easy,” but we’re available most any night!

OK. I’m not that easy. My niece Leesa and I have a date Friday to Netflix Party. We haven’t picked the movie yet. Any suggestions?

Meanwhile, isn’t it odd how we, all once super busy people used to operating at maximum warp speed, are re-calibrating and trying to slow down? It’s hard. We’re not doing things “in a New York minute.” We’re not on Daylight Savings Time or Greenwich Mean Time. We’re on Coronavirus Time and it’s awful.

I’m already losing track of time and days of the week. Today is my late brother Mal’s birthday. I’m usually terrific about noting the special milestones in my family. Yet, without needing to look at a calendar (Why bother? I’m not going anywhere, right?), I almost missed acknowledging this important date.

The second way I know I’m getting a little unmoored: I took no joy in the Sunday New York Times. Growing up, the Times, especially the Sunday Times, was the family Bible. This Sunday, it wasn’t just the news that made me sad, it was the actual physical paper. Should I touch it? Is it germy? Ah, paranoia!

On a MUCH BRIGHTER NOTE, I just finished reading the draft of my friend Laura Shea’s latest novel. Since it’s a draft, there’s no point sharing the working title of this whip-smart mystery which involves a college drama department, drama and drama queens abounding, PLUS some deadly bees, but if you’re looking for an entertaining read right now, check out Laura’s two other mysteries, Murder at the People’s Theater and A Dying Fall. And for your serious theater geeks (i.e. people like me) consider Laura’s book, A Moon for the Misbegotten on the American Stage: A History of the Major Productions.

And so goes Day 6. Stay Healthy. Remember to wash your hands. Happy/safe/productive back-to-work-at-home Monday.

Good things come in small boxes or from the kindness of good neighbors …

Our sweet neighbor Kimberly texted mid-morning today to check how we’re doing and also offered to grocery shop, not just once but on an ongoing basis. Wow.

And about payment? I offered to run over and put some money her mail slot, but Kimberly declined, saying, in the short run, all she wants is lemons from our massive, blossoming tree.

Dilemma: Dare I ask for a few of her daughter’s delicious lemon bars or is that too greedy? I could lie and say I’m “just” asking for noted lemon-lover Handsome Hubby.

Of course, I instantly took Kimberly up on her kind offer. And yes, I asked for bananas. I asked for bananas today! (Please see prior journal entries. Bananas weirdly have become my sheltering-in-place comfort food!)

And on the subject of food … and men. Handsome Hubby and I have wildly different sheltering-in-place work/snack habits.

I work, check-in with friends and family, snack. He works and then takes a break by gorging on the latest statistical, medical, and political intel about the virus. If he actually emerges from his office to get a real snack, he munches and simultaneously disgorges updates on all the gloom and doom. I love the guy, but …
If I had a theme song today, it would be a rewrite of Helen Reddy’s 1972 hit “I am woman. Hear me roar.” My version: I am woman. Hear me munch.”

Handsome Hubby’s version? “I am he-man. Hear me virus numbers’ crunch.”

OK. That doesn’t quite have a ring to it. Sorry.

And so goes Day 4. Be kind. Stay calm. Be well.