Looking out my Window

Today, the sun shines, the trees still retain their leaves. A few are turning oranges and yellows. But just a few.

For the first time in over 18 months I am alone in this house. Hubby, appropriately masked, is in a classroom in the Bronx, panicking over cases of COVID in his school. There are tasks, chores to do. Laundry is up, I can hear the machine whirring in its niche.

Gibby Purrincess mrrows and climbs up on my desk. I rub her neck where the itchy spots are. She rubs back and then jumps down. One cat now. Our long legged boy succumbed to cancer early in the summer.

So many deaths, too many. In the millions now, worldwide, from this epidemic pandemic. Many friends sick, several dead. The gut punch of each death stays.

Alone in this house. So tempting to just go back to bed and curl up under blankets, to cry and listen to the inside voices.

No need to do anything. Really.

Not true. If stuff doesn’t get done there won’t be dinner. Well, there would be take-out, but that’s not the best plan just now. COVID again. Who knows if the delivery person will wear a mask or be vaccinated.

I have been inside this house, save for needed excursions, for over 18 months. And, if I add up the time frame of the needed excursions I might get about 2 weeks of out-of-the-house time.

ZOOM calls, meetings. A bit of time to see friends from far away. Once, a weekend where a friend from the city came up – before Delta really got going and after we felt safer from the vaccines. One hug. It felt good to hug someone I hadn’t seen in so long.

The urge to get into a pillafert is strong.

I look out the window. Outside. Full of tiny particles of a disease that may or may not invade my cells. Vaccine-created immunity cells might be able to pick off the disease. Maybe, maybe not. Roll the dice, take your chances.

I go away from the window. There is a pack of N-95 masks in the utility closet. I get two out. I go to my clothes closet in the bedroom. Pants. I will need pants. And shoes. And – damnit – a bra under a tee-shirt and jacket.

Masked, I look out the window one more time. Let’s add another hour or so to that accumulated excursion time.

One thought on “Looking out my Window

  1. yeah, pretty scary. I remember the call of the blankets from other times in my life. I’ve been kept busy doing online volunteer work for my buddhist community. Do you wanna call me sometime? I’m happy to talk, if you ever want to bend somebody’s ear. I think you can email me using wordpress?

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