Sunday, April 12, 2020
Covid-19 (Day 31 of Self-Isolation)
The thing about being an elder is one can't let one's honest feelings out, right?
We're supposed to be strong and wise with the mellow of our years wearing a lean on me countenance at all times.
But that inner four year old resides within. And boy does she come out now and again. The impatience, the judgement, the no-one cares.
Today is such a day.
So I am throwing it out there. Easter Sunday.
Easter Sunday is the old pagan feast of Oestra, honouring Ishtar, the goddess of fertility and sex. My childhood religion, long thrown to the curb by moi, caught the fertility of the Oestra part but missed out completely on the sex unless it was their evil preaching hypocritical representatives stealing the spirits of innocent children, but I digress.
I am aware my world has completely shrunk, not that it was very large before, but now it is minuscule so I tend to obsess on unimportant stuff. Like tasks to be completed but then neglected. So I need to carve off some unpleasant wee tasks and just do them.
Many out here on the Edge are not gifted with a grasp of the seriousness of this pandemic and since their only hobby may be shopping and wandering aimlessly, indulge in that to the jeopardy of everyone else. I've been offered take out ("like a burger?"), etc, from these happy wanderers, oblivious to their own behaviours and its effect on their neighbours. They get very upset if questioned on how they are picking up such foods and I feel foolish for having prepped little care packages for them under the delusion of their following the isolating rules along with me. One took my gift of a hand knitted mask (not transmission approved, I view it merely as a warning to stay the eff away from me if I have to go in the halls for laundry or pickup) as permission to shop freely now.
So my isolation leads to despair and feeling quite solitary in my persistence of paying attention to all recommendations and wishing there were some real enforcement of them. I honestly believe we ain't seen nothing yet in the spread of this nightmare.
Pretty hand knitted masks, (more material can be inserted in the inside pocket). They are merely a signal and protection of others from one's sneezes, etc., but most of all a reminder not to touch our faces.
May the goddess, Ishtar, be good to all of you today.