Tag Archives: journal

Pandemic Diaries: April 2020 (Continued)

A daily journal of the COVID-19 / coronavirus pandemic

April 16, 2020 (Thursday) — DAY 32

It’s 5:45am. I hear noise in the living room, and stumble out to investigate, blind without my glasses and mostly asleep. It’s Isaac: he’s playing our Osmo coding game.

I don’t want to discourage my son from learning coding, of all things, so I turn the volume down on his ipad, tell him I love him, and get back into bed.

Hours later, Isaac comes to check on me. He turns my kettle on so I’m motivated to get up while the water is still hot. 

Quinn sends me a link to a Globe & Mail article, affirming my own thoughts yesterday on the shortsightedness of “Takeout Day.” Guess I really do have my finger on the pulse.

The doorbell rings: Canada Post has brought us two parcels. Both are for Isaac. One is a robotic spider kit from his “secret admirer.” The other is our Osmo music coding game. My kid is so spoiled.

We join an online meeting via the Teams app on my phone at 10:30am. Ms Casey plans to host weekly Thursday sessions for Isaac’s class. They take turns sharing something. Isaac has drawn his forcefield invention killing all the coronavirus germs in our town.

Evy comes by to pick up dijon mustard for her marinade recipe: she’s making elk skewers and mini frozen cheesecakes for Peter’s 41st birthday dinner tonight. She brings us a copy of the local newspaper. My story about the bright side of pandemic isolation is on 13.

I have an appointment to get my winter tires switched to the summer ones at 1pm, but I need to pick up the summer tires from Ryan’s garage first. Isaac stays to “help” Mom clean out their trailer while I head over to Ryan’s. We get to have a little visit on his deck in the sunshine before I leave for the mechanic’s. 

Evy reports via text that my nephew has broken his wrist skateboarding: they’ve gone to the hospital, where she’s given a mask to wear.

At OK Tire, I drive right into the bay. Brandon puts disposable gloves on before opening my trunk to remove the winter tires.

It’s a blue-sky, sunny, warm day. I walk over to the dog park and Dauna meets me in the parking lot. We head out along the dyke, and make our way to a really beautiful spot down by the river that Ryan showed me last April.

Dauna returns home to work. I’m back at OK Tire at 2:30pm. My car is outside, with the keys on the windshield wiper. Brandon, wearing gloves, brings the payment machine outside for me. 

I go to Mom and Dad’s, and kick the soccer ball around a bit with Dad and Isaac. It’s so hot out that I get sweaty in my fleece pants and winter socks.

Before going home, Isaac and I check the mail: there’s a parcel for me! It’s a Sweet Reads Box full of perfect goodies, for my birthday from Aunt Pat and Uncle Craig. There is a book, tea, chocolate, a mug, a notebook and more. I send Aunt Pat a picture and then call to say thank you.

It’s still hot outside, so I change into a sundress and cut us up snack plates full of vegetables. (So there, Evy.) I sit outside with a big mason jar full of homemade iced tea and read my new book.

Peter delivers BBQed skewers of elk and veggies: another family meal, shared over four households. We send each other photos.

We celebrate noise time at 7pm, then sit on the deck in the sunshine until I remind Isaac he has 30 minutes left for movie time. I get him to shower first.

Isaac folds laundry while we watch Trolls. In his bed, we read a Ninjago training manual. He falls asleep in the middle of our second book.

I make a cup of my new Tealish Maple Cream herbal tea in my new mug. It’s time to finish my birthday jigsaw puzzle.

April 17, 2020 (Friday) — DAY 33

I have got to stop staying up past midnight.

Isaac has somehow ended up in my bed overnight. He gets up around 7am and turns the kettle on for me: I listen for the hissing boiling noise to stop, then arise to greet another day at home.

It’s grey outside. We play the Osmo music coding game, even working in some math. Then Isaac plays Minecraft with Konnor online while I apply for the Canada Emergency Response Benefit (yay for the new, expanded eligibility criteria!). I update my website and do some Instagram stuff.

I make breakfast (mmmm leftover skewers). Isaac completes a writing sheet from his teacher, does a craft, and then we play Lego.

Our Lego stories are always epic adventures. My usual character (Shay) has an evil twin named Banja, but Shay has been infected by Banja’s timeline and is now evil too. There’s no choice but to destroy Shay. Our ninja heroes, who travel around in the party bus from Lego Movie 2, capture Banja, but she escapes en route to Arkham Asylum and claims the Temple of the Ultimate Weapon as her new base. To be continued …

I invite Evy and Hollis over to play games with us: are they comfortable with our germ circle? The answer is yes, because Hollis (with a cast on his broken wrist) and I play Magic the Gathering at our kitchen table while Evy and Isaac build his robot spider. Evy and I try to play Isaac’s Kraken Attack cooperative game with my kid, but he tires near the end and moves on to shooting us with a nerf gun.

Evy and Hollis leave, and we eat lunch.

I work on my murder mystery plot. I’ve decided to write everything out as bullet points on a Google doc, to make it easier to share with Juanita, my plot coach.

We head over to Mom and Dad’s in the afternoon: it’s 11 degrees and warm, albeit overcast. We all play soccer. Mom and Dad are loving their electric bikes, and go for long bike rides daily.

Back home, Isaac plays Minecraft in his dad’s LaZBoy while I read my new book on the couch. At one point he whispers:

ISAAC: “This is nice. I like the quiet. I like doing our own things.”

HEATHER: “I like you.”

Isaac suggests spaghetti with fettuccini noodles for dinner.

Isaac’s plan for noise time. (He’s on a scooter, and also dancing atop a box.)

Mom is on her deck for noise time at 7pm. Isaac watches some Lego Star Wars while I check in on the social medias beside him.

We read Paw Patrol, Lego stories, a book of Greek tales (the Trojan horse and Pandora’s box), an Elephant & Piggy book, a book about feelings and a Sesame Street story.

I’m considering getting a dog. This is shocking because I am a germaphobe and think dogs are gross. But Isaac is a dog kid and I know he’ll need a dog someday. Might as well get one when he’s young and we’re stuck at home.

I might just be quarantine-drunk and not thinking clearly, so will consider this carefully before committing to an animal.

Current provincial news forecasts are for a relaxing of restrictions in May sometime, thanks to B.C. doing such a bang-up job of social distancing this spring.

My wish list of things to do when this is over:

  1. Smooch my boyfriend.
  2. Get back to my gym classes.
  3. Eat a meal with friends & family at the pub.

April 18, 2020 (Saturday) — DAY 34

I manage to get out of bed at 8am, and feel proud. At some point during the “drink tea” stage of my morning I realize our house is getting cluttery, so I tidy up papers and Lego, and find my notebook of ideas for Medium stories. 

This makes me think of another story idea, inspired by my Thursday conversation with Dauna: many of us are living in limbo because of this plague, and I’m a pro at surviving limbo, since I did it for the three years Brock had terminal cancer. 

I start writing the story. Isaac runs over to Mom’s, to give her our card and a hand-crafted present.

Then Isaac is ready for some “schooling” so we play the Osmo coding game.

I’m definitely getting a belly, now that I’m not going the gym every other day.

Also there’s the beer, and my diet of sourdough bread.

Speaking of which: I have three loaves’ worth of bread bums in the fridge. Maybe I could try making bread pudding, which I adore? My Joy of Cooking never disappoints: there’s a recipe, with multiple fancy variations.

We play Lego: our ninjas go camping, along with Lego-versions of me, Dauna and Ryan. A cave troll attacks and there is an epic battle, of course.

By 2pm it’s 9 degrees outside. We set out for the beach, with tools for the sandpile. Mom and Dad ride their bikes down and stay for awhile. 

We discover weird slime clumps along the shoreline. Isaac says they’re “seaweed blood.” We scoop some up to take home with us. (And that’s how homeschool science is done, people.)

I really, really want a baguette and cheese to eat with the fancy spreads I got in my birthday gift boxes, so I leave Isaac parked outside Valley Foods and risk a shopping trip. 

The masked man outside sprays my hands with alcohol sanitizer. Inside, I do my best to stay away from the few other shoppers while also being small-town friendly. There are assigned places to stand, to wait for a till. The cashier is behind a plexiglass window. She sprays and wipes the payment machine before I use my card to tap payment.

Earlier this year, most of our local, larger stores stopped offering plastic bags: now we’re forbidden to bring reusable bags, and are back to plastic. 

Back home, I feast on well-aged cheddar, chewy bread and fig jam. The lobster pate goes on chedder-chive crackers.

We go to Mom and Dad’s to meet up with Evy, Peter and my nephew, and the boys present a bouquet of flowers and a box o’ wine to Mom for her birthday. 

Isaac practices pedalling his bike with Evy, then we spend some time on our trampoline before returning home.

It’s sunny on the porch but I choose to finish my Medium story.

I mix up the liquid for my bread pudding while Isaac eats leftover spaghetti and baguette slices. It has to soak, then cook for 1.25 hours: I’ll leave it in the fridge overnight, and bake it tomorrow.

At noise time, someone to the west of us joins in, plus Mom on her deck.

Isaac watches Trolls (he loves the music) while I shower. My routine is all off: I should shower after a run and workout. I vow to do more exercise, and get my six-pack belly back.

We read our usual stack of books. Isaac is very tired and falls asleep easily.

April 19, 2020 (Sunday) — DAY 35

How exciting: today I get to bake my first ever bread pudding. The recipe says 1.25 hours at 350-degrees. While it cooks, Isaac goes to visit Dad (Mom’s gone grocery shopping). I video-visit with Ryan and chug my tea.

I read an article about how people are trying to get realistic plague data in the United States by comparing the number of reported “deaths at home” with last spring: there’s a noticeable increase. Not only are people dying because of the coronavirus: more people than usual are dying from heart attacks and other health crises because they’re scared to call 9-1-1 or go to a hospital and risk infection.

Before reporting on how my first-ever bread pudding turned out, I should explain (for those who don’t know me) that I lost my senses of taste and smell sometime around 2015.

The bread pudding tastes like soggy bread. All I can think about is the four eggs and three cups of milk in the recipe: I’m basically just eating French toast, without the butter-fried crispiness or the syrup.

Ah well.

After Isaac’s had some time at home and done a few school-ish things, we bike up to Mom and Dads so I can use Dad’s drill to make a hole in my single-use pepper grinder: this is Dad’s clever hack. I can refill the grinder, then Scotch tape the hold shut. 

It’s already hot outside so Isaac changes from his PJs into shorts and a t-shirt and we scooter/walk to my sister’s house. This is the first time in 35 days Isaac has worn proper clothes. He still refuses to wear underwear.

We visit on Evy’s lawn. I drink tea with my sister while Isaac tries to keep his popsicle away from her dog. Ultimately the dog wins. Peter adjusts the height of Isaac’s bicycle, and Evy pushes him across the lawn a few times.

We’re back home around 2pm. I make Isaac a snack plate and he settles in to watch some Netflix. 

Ryan comes over and we visit on my deck. He’s getting shaggy so I give him a haircut with my clippers: it looks like a pandemic haircut, but not terrible. 

He leaves at 5pm and it’s still warm out, so I lure Isaac down to the beach so we can collect lake water and build a habitat for the weird slime we brought home yesterday. He resists, and yet once we’re down there he says we should have brought the sand toys.

Dauna comes down to visit with us. Isaac can’t resist the water: he ends up swimming. There are two brothers who also brave the water, and a group of four young teenagers.

We go home as soon as Isaac’s out of the water, shivering in his soaked shorts and shirt.

For dinner, I make Isaac “deconstructed tacos” (separate piles of sour cream, seasoned hamburger and taco chips), and bean quesadillas for myself. We do noise time at 7pm, and then I publish the Medium story I wrote yesterday, about living in limbo

We watch Trolls. Read our books.

After Isaac’s asleep, I lay quietly for a few minutes and scroll Facebook: some man went on a terrible shooting rampage in Nova Scotia. 16 people killed, according to initial reports, including an RCMP officer. We don’t get shooting rampages in Canada. This is horrific.

Ryan comes over for the night. 

April 20, 2020 (Monday) — DAY 36

It feels weird to be 40 years old and have to report to my parents and sister that my boyfriend slept over, but I owe it to my germ circle. I disclose our sleepover after Ryan and I have had our morning tea/coffee and he’s left to check on his boys.

When I open my new Medium story to start promoting it on social media, I see a note, inviting me to submit it to Medium’s Invisible Illness publication. Google tells me this is the “biggest mental health publication on Medium.” Ooo! They add me as a writer and I submit “5 Tips for Living in Limbo.” 

This is exciting news, and I want to share it: my first thought is to post it to my Patreon community. I love having these “aiders and abetters” in my corner. They see the whole process, from initial idea to brainstorm to draft to publication. If it feels this good to share a Medium story’s success with them, it will be AMAZING when I tell them my book has a publisher. Some day, some day …

The morning is warm enough to go outside, so I bring out the materials I’ve collected plus instructions from the internet. Isaac has trouble grasping that dinosaurs and humans never coexisted, and I want to make him a visual timeline on the neighbour’s fence.

It’s a labour of love. I’m not a details person.

After all my work, I piggyback Isaac along from the earth’s creation (purple balloon) to present time (yellow balloon). 

ISAAC: “Neat.” 

And then he asks me more Minecraft questions.

At 1pm, Isaac and I head down to the beach. A family is already playing on the sandpile so we play elsewhere. I wonder if our local government will close the beach eventually, if this apocalypse continues into the summer, or if they’ll organize “shifts” for when we get to enjoy our local recreational spots. Or maybe it’s like gym equipment: we’ll just take turns using the resources, because we’re polite people.

Mom bicycles down to join us for awhile. We watch groups launch their SUPs, kayaks and canoes into the water. Most are clearly family groups. The others do a decent job of “social distancing” from their friends.

Isaac plays, while four women social distance on their SUPs.

Around 4pm, more local families come down: there are five kids playing on the sandpile now, from four different families. 

There are only about 20 people on this long strip of beach, yet suddenly this place feels too crowded for us. 

We play for a little longer, then pack up for home.

It is still sunny and 19 degrees out so I decide to clean our car. I empty out all the trash, then wipe the windows with vinegar. They gleam.

It’s too hot to sit on the porch so we go to the north-facing deck. Isaac plays Minecraft, shaded under a blanket (at least he’s outside, I tell myself) while I drink homemade iced tea and scroll Facebook.

We play our Osmo coding game, have dinner (Mom’s turkey soup), re-watch the first Trolls movie, do noise time, and then read books.

Isaac wants to try staying up late one night. I tell him that if we play outside all day long one warm day, I’ll let him stay up late. Maybe tomorrow. We’ll see how long he lasts …

To celebrate my Medium story being picked up, I open a bottle of birthday sparkly wine and sort Lego while watching Community. Heaven.

April 21, 2020 (Tuesday) — DAY 37

Our day starts off with excitement: a neighbour is having a tree in their yard cut down. We watch the faller wield his chainsaw a good 25 feet off the ground and trim off limbs, then top the tree.

Isaac wants to stay up late tonight. I agree (why not?), with the condition that he has to play outside for most of the day.

We start by going to the high school track so I can run. He excavates rocks from the dirt path, then heads over to Dad’s to play soccer. Mom rides her electric bike down and does loops beside me. 

Mom and I make long-distance conversation with two women who are walking laps. Another woman parks a stroller on the grass and throws balls for her two large dogs.

Before I shower, I do a short workout in my room: I really miss my stomach muscles and am determined to lose this apocalypse belly.

I feel fancy so pull on shorts instead of my usual pyjamas. The forecast predicted a hot day, but it’s getting windier outside. I decide it’s laundry day. For school work, we play our Osmo coding game. 

On a local “fun things to do at home during COVID” Facebook group, I invited families to come see the string timeline of the earth’s history I made outside. My friend Astrid comes by with her daughter (Isaac’s school friend) and son to check it out.

Isaac invites me to jump on the trampoline. 

It’s really windy, so I compromise and say it’s okay if he plays Lego or with the toys in his room instead of staying outside all day. We try to find our Lego RV set in the Lego closest, and I end up organizing the bins and bags. So that’s fun.

We play with our Lego people: more camping adventures.

Isaac’s friend Konnor is able to play Minecraft with him online, and I allow this exception to our rule. Friend opportunities are precious, these days. While he’s plugged in to the iPad, I wash dishes and do some computer work.

Isaac sorts the laundry socks, practices a song on the piano, practices his printing and draws a picture for his Earth Day homework from Ms. Casey.

We have noodles for dinner, then do noise time at 7pm.

I tell him we need to do one more outside thing before his late night. I walk and he scooters over to Evy’s house, where she gives him a popsicle. He’s tired enough that he rubs his eyes. We scooter/walk back home, and then settle in for the night: Isaac playing Minecraft on the iPad, me sorting Lego with an Acorn murder mystery on my phone.

Any bets on how late he stays up?

UPDATE: He makes it to 11:30pm with Minecraft and Netflix, then says:

ISAAC: “So, feel like watching some shows?”

We watch one episode of Trolls and then I turn off the reading light and cuddle him: he’s asleep in two minutes.

April 22, 2020 (Wednesday) — DAY 38

Happy Garbage Pick-Up Day! Happy Earth Day!

We woke up at 7:40am, both surprisingly chipper after our late night.

I finish sorting our “master building” Lego, which means all the Lego that isn’t part of a set.

We play our Osmo coding game, but Isaac is giddy (tired?) so I invite the family for a walk and we leave the house just before noon.

Evy, my nephew and their chocolate lab Caeli meet us at the dog park. I lead them to the spot where there are antique cars rusting at the bottom of the cliff: they’ve never been there before.

On the walk back, we collect a stick bouquet for Mom, including one branch with an old wasp nest and another with pussywillows, and fail to find a geocache hidden in a massive rock pile. Isaac and I compete to see how long we can stand barefoot in the freezing Toby Creek.

On our way home, I dip into the liquor store to restock on beer, leaving Isaac in the car with his Transformers magnet book. The store’s COVID-19 safety measures include a customer maximum of 12, hand sanitizer spray at the entrance, and plexiglass shields between us and the cashiers. 

I feel self-conscious shopping these days, trying not to take too long in the stores, and feel frazzled as a result. I forget to buy Coronas.

At home, Isaac watches some Netflix and folds cloths while I do some computer work. 

Ryan calls and says the RCMP closed down Kinsmen Beach today, sending everyone there home. There weren’t any closure signs up when we were there, other than at the playground section. But it makes sense, after seeing all the kids intermingling on the sandpile the other day.

Isaac eats noodles and then has his piano lesson: he has a hard time focusing so we make it a short lesson.

We play our Osmo music coding game, which he loves.

Noise time is rushed: Isaac insists on it every night, yet doesn’t like to stay out for more than a few minutes. We get back to our usual routine, reading books from 8–9pm. He falls asleep easily.

Ugh, I forgot to retrieve our garbage can. It’s dark out there now. Hope I don’t get eaten by a bear!

UPDATE: While I wasn’t eaten by a bear, I did remember (when I discovered the head lamp I’d worn outside wasn’t working) that bears actually are a possibility on my road at this time of the year. So I sang “Teddy’s Bear’s Picnic” the entire time I was outside, to scare away any attackers.

April 23, 2020 (Thursday) — DAY 39

Happy Recycling Pick-Up Day!

I get some computer work done in the morning, and then at 10:30am we join the TEAMS meeting Ms Casey has set up for Isaac’s class. He shares a drawing he did for his Earth Day assignment, of the earth high-fiving recycling. 

It will be interesting to see how this “schooling at home” plan plays out among so many diverse families. I know there are families taking this more seriously than us: spending hours a day on math sheets and more. There are also families with no official “schooling” planned. 

I’m content with our own routine, but still feel self-conscious when other kids are asking for more printing exercises, and Isaac’s barely touched his.

Isaac’s treehouse blueprint.

It starts raining.

For my new book, I’ve been creating a bullet-list outline of the plot: this helps me organize my thoughts and identify inconsistencies, and will also give me and Juanita something to discuss during our next plot consultation meeting. 

I’ve been puzzling over how to involve my Patreon patrons in this stage of writing my book: I want to give my patrons the option of NOT seeing the story at this stage, if they prefer to avoid spoilers. I’ve decided to share this Google doc bullet sheet with them, once it’s complete, and then they can choose to view it or not.

After writing my first book alone, I see the value of having more brains involved in the process. I want to be able to discuss plot decisions.

It’s grocery day, and I choose to brave the store. Evy invites Isaac to help her with a video she’s making for her preschool, so I drop him off at Mom’s, the shooting site.

When I’m there, Mom shows me a looming bench that our friend Wes has given to me: the last of an amazing inheritance from his deceased wife Val, who loved textile arts. The bench opens to reveal all kinds of loom supplies, including spare parts for my own antique loom and shuttles. It feels like Christmas. We’ll use the bench for our piano until I get my loom cleaned up and operational.

It takes me an hour to get groceries. I go to Valley Foods, because it’s smaller and I like all the COVID-19 measures they’ve implemented. 

I sanitize my hands outside the entrance with automatic dispensers, then take a shopping cart that’s been wiped down. My shopping list is divided by sections, to help me be efficient. All the shoppers do our best to stay apart and wait our turn for aisles. I make distanced conversation with one woman who knows my family.

When I bring my empty cart back to the entrance, the young man takes it and wipes it clean.

I drive through town, and am excited to see the sandwich board outside the deli: does this mean they’re open? I stop, to see if I can get sausage rolls for my Grandma. But of course the door is locked. I read the (many, many) signs and figure out that the store is only open, via the take-out window, for orders of “Bunker Boxes,” bulk orders of meat.

Of course. Silly me, thinking we can buy fresh deli sausage rolls now!

My final stop is the insurance branch. The storage insurance on my pop-up tent trailer expired yesterday. The woman in front of me uses her sleeve to open the door.

Inside, Bradley comes to the counter to help me. Usually in April I change my storage insurance over to six months of “let’s go camping!” insurance. But he asks me how long I mean to keep the trailer in storage.

It takes me a moment to realize that we won’t be camping in May.

Other than in our driveway, of course. 

Once I’ve recovered, we decide to renew the storage insurance for a year, since it’s only $18. I can change it over once we’re ready and able to camp again.

They don’t have tap payment, so I sanitize my hands before using the payment machine. He tells me they wipe down the machines too.

Bradley prints out the papers and gives me a new, Lambert Insurance branded pen: “You get to take that pen with you.” I look around and realize the cups of shared pens are gone. 

Back home with Isaac, we play Lego: our Lego people somehow end up in an alternative dimension (Isaac’s bedroom). The Paw Patrol and a Calaway Park dragon stuffy save them from a gigantic stuffed dog.

There’s a moment of sunshine, and the deck furniture has somehow dried. I bring out chips and French onion dip, homemade iced tea and my book. Eventually Isaac realizes I’m eating chips outside and joins me. 

Ryan’s kids have gone to their mom’s: he comes over to sit in the sun, and when it gets too windy outside we play backgammon and eat a cheesy snack plate at the table. We both have apocalypse bellies, now that we’re not working out regularly. 

The wind becomes ferocious, blowing sand up and bending the treetops. Despite the approaching black storm cloud, we risk lightening and take down the rebar pole that holds up my fake owl: this is my anti-woodpecker device. I don’t want the owl flying off the pole and shattering a window.

The storm passes quickly, and there’s a clear sky in time for sunset.

Isaac and I read books. He falls asleep twice while I’m reading, and then when I get up he tells me he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep.

He gets up a few times. I think he’s jealous that Ryan’s sleeping over: he’s not used to sharing me, after weeks of it just being us two. But eventually he falls asleep.

Ryan chooses a Netflix show. Even though the stand-up comedian is funny, I fall asleep by 10pm, curled up against my guy.

April 24, 2020 (Friday) — DAY 40

40 days and 40 nights. According to my “Bible as Literature” class at UVic, 40 is just another word for “a really, really long time.” Staying at home has become our new normal. The only unusual thing about today is that I wake up beside Ryan. Yay!

My boyfriend makes us breakfast, and then he leaves and I update my Pandemic Diaries while Isaac plays.

Yesterday, Isaac and I discovered a two-hour animated Minecraft movie on YouTube: we settle in and watch it.

By noon it’s sunny and warm outside. We jump on the trampoline for a bit while Mom and Dad work in their yard around us: Dad is rebuilding the vegetable bed frames and deer fence, while Mom is cleaning up the retaining wall beds.

We race home when I remember I have a Zoom group brainstorming session with a local entrepreneur at noon: but the host is having technical issues so the meeting is cancelled.

Back outside, Isaac plays in his sandbox with the hose. I sit and finish the book I got from Aunt Pat via my Sweet Reads Box. It’s literary fiction, a genre that I now find predictable and melodramatic thanks to my English literature degree, but there’s a gentle mystery plot that leaves me satisfied. It’s a good book and I’ll pass it along to Mom and Evy.

My chair on the porch is full-sun now so I settle in to figure out the timeline of my book’s murder. Alibis, whatnot.

Back indoors, I wash dishes and make us sandwiches. We’re getting on each others’ nerves and Isaac’s being rude, so I take us to the high school track. Isaac digs for rocks while I run laps. Dad appears with the soccer ball and they kick it around.

There’s a mom speaking French to her three young children. They’ve set up a little play area in the field, with toys, the eldest’s bike, their large stroller and a giant inflated pillow. The mom runs beside her cycling daughter around the track, wrestles with her youngest.

I feel sorry for this woman, trapped with three little kids during this time of no socializing. But then I remember that not all moms struggle with being moms: not all moms are introverts like me.

On the walk home, Isaac asks me if I’ve run out all my anger and grumpiness: I have. He’s in a better mood too. Our secrets for success are outdoor time, taking breaks from one another, and exercise. I do my weights and sit ups while watching Community.

For dinner, I have bean quesadillas and make macaroni and cheese for Isaac. Will I resist having a beer tonight? This apocalypse belly is annoying. But I deserve a beer, dammit. Only time will tell which argument will win the day.

UPDATE: The open bottle of sparkly wine in the fridge won me over.

April 25, 2020 (Saturday) — DAY 41

Ryan came over last night after Isaac was asleep; Isaac wakes us up at 7am. We have time for toast and tea/coffee before Ryan leaves for work. 

Cody, my excavator guy, is digging up stumps across the road: he comes over at 8am to help me figure out how to create a fire pit area and improved sandbox in our multi-level yard. I have a stack of gift certificates from silent auctions this winter that should cover the materials, so I’ll just have to pay for his machine work.

Isaac and my plan for tonight is to camp out. I check the forecast and it calls for wind and rain, so we postpone setting up the tent trailer and build our campsite on the couch instead. We put all the houseplants on a side table for some greenery and play a “nature sounds” playlist on Spotify to set the mood. 

Isaac arranges his stuffies appropriately, while I build a relatively comfortable bed out of our couch and coffee table. 

Hopefully that scary snake doesn’t eat us tonight.

I check emails and end up on the Sisters in Crime website, perusing the archived webinars. There are many that interest me: I settle into one on “Your Author Brand,” by Dana Kaye. 18 minutes in, I have my first epiphany. By the end of the hour I have a page of to-dos, and start renovating my website.

From now on, my marketing priority will be my enewsletter. So here’s how you sign up for that:

Subscribe

* indicates a required field
 



I’m all psyched up to spend the day on my writing career, but — ah! I am a mom, and my kid needs me too. We go outside to bounce on the trampoline.

Isaac is giddy again today and I should keep him outside, so we join Mom on a walk around the area, heading down a trail I’ve never followed. We run into my friend Susi and her dog Morris.

We see our first crocuses of the year:

And a camouflaged deer:

All the neighbours in our subdivision are working on their lawns or gardens today, it seems. 

Back at Mom’s, we find some rocks in the lot next door and paint them on the patio table. When they dry, we’ll put these “thank you” rocks at the hospital.

Back home, I make pumpkin pie as per Isaac’s request.

Isaac is still squirrelly so I text Evy and ask what she’s up to: they’re preparing for a “front porch photo shoot,” a fundraiser for the local food bank where a photographer comes and shoots whatever poses they want outside, while keeping a safe distance.

Obviously Isaac and I want to witness this, so we drive down and watch the action from our parked car, as per the photographer’s rules.

After, we lawn-visit with Evy and Peter, despite the increasing wind and chilliness. Evy brings me a Corona. (Will this joke ever get old? Not to me.)

We leave at 6pm, to dine on pan-fried hotdogs and elk sausages, with pumpkin pie for dessert.

Reading together is usually my favourite part of our day. I find all the camping-ish books in our library and we cuddle up on the couch. It’s pouring rain outside.

Isaac is asleep by 8:30pm. I have hours of freedom until it’s time to join him on our camping couch, as long as I’m quiet and don’t wake him up.

We walked through grass today and I’m feeling tick-itchy: that certainty that a lyme-disease-causing bug is somewhere in my pants. I do a very uncampy thing and have a bath.

April 26, 2020 (Sunday) — DAY 42

Isaac and I stir at sunrise: even though I’ve closed all the blinds in the living room, light finds its way in through the door to the deck.

Isaac’s pumped for another day of Minecraft, but I need more sleep so I move to my bedroom.

My son discovers “skin packs” on Minecraft and asks me what needs to happen for his avatar to look like a teenager dressed in red and blue. The cost (I say) is that he has to complete all his school to-dos, practice piano, do a job for Mom or Dad, and walk the dog with Evy. He’s onboard and whips through his schoolwork before I’m out of bed.

It’s too early for the other activities so I get him to sign a contract, promising he’ll do the required tasks, and then buy him the skins. This gives me time to work on my website and draft my April enewsletter.

We do our own things until noon, when it’s hot and sunny and I make us leave the house. 

At 1pm we meet Mr. Weller at the elementary school: we need a strong rope for Isaac’s “ninja training tree” in Evy’s yard, and Mr. Weller has offered to give us one of the old ropes from the school’s climbing wall. 

At Evy’s, I knot the rope around the tallest, strongest branch.

We have a lawn visit with Evy and Peter. Evy makes us tea; Isaac gets popcorn, M&Ms and milk.

We’re home by 2pm. I read Gail Bowen’s Sleuth and brainstorm book ideas. Isaac joins Mom and Dad in their backyard and paints the garden gate as his “work.”

We have dinner. At 6pm I get a call from a Vancouver number: it’s A.J. Devlin, my new crime-writer friend who’s been reading my first mystery manuscript. He says glowy, encouraging, nice things to me for an hour, and I officially move on to the “send my book out to publishers” stage of my writing adventure.

While I’m distracted, Isaac figures out how to rent Trolls 2 via our Apple TV. Ugh $20. We watch the end of the movie while I sneak a celebratory call to Quinn, and text Mom and Ryan. When Isaac asks for ice cream, I send an update to my Patreon community.

Isaac and I read books in his bed and he falls asleep quickly. Ryan comes over and we have a celebratory feast: his homemade beef jerky, chocolate from my birthday gift boxes, sparkly red wine and Applewood smoked cheese.

Tomorrow I will start researching dream publishers, and draft my submission letter.

Publication of my first mystery in 2020 looks like a realistic goal.

April 27, 2020 (Monday) — DAY 43

Much of our morning is spent renegotiating the terms of our YouTube video agreement.

Old agreement: if Isaac doesn’t come into my room from bedtime until 7am, he can watch a Minecraft YouTube video on my phone.

New agreement: as outlined above, but if Isaac blows this overnight opportunity he can redeem himself by completing ALL of the following challenges:

  • practice piano
  • complete a printing sheet
  • run/walk around our house
  • stretch, or jump on the trampoline
  • complete a math sheet OR a level of our OSMO math game
  • brushing his hair, washing his face & brushing his teeth

Technically we strive for him to do all these things daily already, but it’s worth a Minecraft video not to have to FORCE him.

Once Isaac earns his video, I get some time at the computer to research publishers and draft a cover letter.

It starts pouring rain. Isaac and I settle in for a day of guilty pleasures: screen time! He builds amazing things in Minecraft while I tweak and send out my April newsletter

I want to grow this newsletter and am considering offering an incentive to my subscribers: maybe sharing the first part of my mystery novel? I survey my Patreon community for their input on this, sending them the excerpt.

We need an exercise break so I lure Isaac to the TV and we do Cosmic Kids’ Trolls-themed yoga routine.

Mom mentions baking in our family text group and this inspires me to make banana chocolate chip muffins, using Graden and Nancy’s recipe: the secret is to beat the wet ingredients until they’re frothy, before stirring in the dry ingredients.

Mom brings over a parcel from Brock’s Aunt Shelley that was delivered to their house: it’s a vintage Fireking mug, a mini one that matches the two larger mugs she gave me a few summers ago. So pretty, and so thoughtful.

It’s been a long day of too much screen-time. When I take the iPad away at 5pm, Isaac gets angry and violent, then “runs away.” I message Mom and Evy to warn them. He arrives at Mom’s and tries to worm his way onto her iPad. He’s addicted: I must do better tomorrow!

Foiled by Mom, Isaac returns. The sun is out now and I force us outdoors. Isaac plays in his muddy sandbox, while I lounge in the warm sunshine. He discovers a long-buried Hot Wheels car. 

Indoors, we set up a car wash and give a bunch of his cars fresh paint jobs with washable poster paints. Once again, it starts to pour rain outside.

We have dinner (chicken fajitas for me, leftover mac & cheese plus a hot dog for Isaac), then settle in to read our books. Isaac falls asleep within 20 minutes. I’m surprised, considering how inactive our day was, but maybe it takes energy to fight with your mother?

I get in some work time, updating our community’s events calendar with a drive-through fried chicken fundraiser, an AGM, and some literacy events via Zoom.

April 28, 2020 (Tuesday) — DAY 44

Isaac wakes me up at 5am so I growl at him and then sleep until 9am.

Since he blew the “let Mom sleep” condition of getting to watch a YouTube video, he’s already tackled some of the list items for the Plan B condition.

The morning is weirdly foggy and feels medieval. I set out playdough-making ingredients last night, to remind myself to be a good mom: Isaac sifts the flour. 

At 10am, Isaac has a video meeting with Ms Erin, an education assistant from school. He responds to all of her questions with a Minecraft-related answer. 

We play with the dough, do some schoolwork, and then plug in to our respective screens. I get some work done, while he plays online with Konnor and one of Konnor’s friends.

At 2:30pm we walk to Isaac’s school, to pick up some (Minecraft) books his teacher has left outside for him in a Ziplock bag. We wander around the deserted field: the playground equipment is all taped and signed as “closed.” We hunt for his friend Sydney’s earring, which she lost sledding in the winter.

We take the long way home, ending up in Evy’s yard: she’s out somewhere, but my nephew joins us in the yard. Peter comes home and sits in the sunshine with us. Evy returns from delivering “make your own bird feeder” kits to her preschool kids’ homes.

Isaac is playing well with his cousin so I walk home, cook rice for sushi, and then grocery shop. 

The store isn’t crowded and I feel calmer this time, taking my time to get all the things on my list. I used to LOVE grocery shopping. I loved lingering and picking up spontaneous treats. Social distancing and all the germ-awareness (you touch it, you buy it) makes shopping so stressful now.

I pick up Isaac, then make sushi: he’s eaten pancakes at Evy’s house and only wants an apple and milk.

He’s due for a bath so I lure him with a bath dance party: glow sticks and bubble bath in the tub, our strobe light, and his favourite techno music on the speaker. It works. We have a little dance party with the glow sticks after he’s dried off.

We read one of his new Minecraft books in his bed, then he rolls over and asks for a Sesame Street story to help him sleep.

I have a video visit with Ryan. I wish we could play backgammon virtually …

When I was researching publishers yesterday I found an old UVic friend on Douglas & McIntyre’s “featured authors” page: Arno Kopecky. I emailed Arno to say howdy and ask for his publishing advice. 

I check my email and read Arno’s encouraging response. He offers to help connect me with an agent, if I want to expedite the submission process. He’s with a Toronto publisher now, ECW Press, which is on my own shortlist, so now I have an in there too. Suddenly, it all seems so easy to get my book published. It can’t be this easy, right?

April 29, 2020 (Wednesday) — DAY 45

Isaac wakes me up early again. At first I fight it, but then I remember his new Trolls World Tour Lego set arrived yesterday, and we can build it this morning, so by 6:45am I’m on the couch drinking tea.

Ryan comes over for a quick pre-work visit: we play backgammon and I slaughter him. 

After Ryan leaves, Isaac lets me build most of the Lego set (what a good sharer!). Then he does his school work.

I NEED to go for a long drive and be somewhere other than our house today. I pack up Isaac’s swimming stuff and some snacks: Evy, her son and dog pick us up around noon. 

We treat ourselves to takeout lunches. Evy gets Subway for my nephew and A&W for Isaac, while I take care of Evy and my butter chicken burritos at a fresh food eatery. 

I have to touch the pay machine because there’s a tip option: I feel germy so wash my hands in the restroom afterward. While I wait for our order, I watch the next three customers touch the machine, with no sanitizing between uses. I’m kinda glad I can’t see into their kitchen.

Back in the car, we head north on a compacted, unpaved forest service road.

Most of the land around us is owned by the Province, set aside as forest district land: lumber companies can lease the land, but it’s open to anyone to explore. Usually we can camp out here too, but camping isn’t allowed right now because of COVID-19.

On the drive, we meet three mud-spattered vehicles with Alberta plates. This has been an increasingly contentious issue in our valley: Albertans fleeing their cities during lockdown, choosing to come here and recreate in our back country instead. They feel justified since they own second homes here. 

We head for Evy’s favourite lake, but have to turn around when we hit snow. It’s still winter in parts of the forest, and we’re driving Evy’s SUV with summer tires.

Instead, we swing onto a road leading to a lake we’ve never been before. There’s no one there, but it’s beautiful (of course) and we’re impressed by the (very basic) campsites: large enough for our three-household family to park trailers, right by the lake.

We follow a trail and balance on the logs across a stream.

The trail continues: I have my bear spray but we make a point of being loud. We want to get to the large island on the edge of the lake. We find a fallen tree that we can walk along to reach it.

On the island is a small but sorta-fresh pile of bear poo (lots of berries): we’re extra noisy on the trail back to the car.

Isaac and his cousin change into their swim suits and dare each other into the water off the dock. The water is clear and green.

The wind picks up: it isn’t the 18-degree sunny day we expected, and the wind makes it even colder.

Isaac changes into dry fleece jammies and we walk around to the other side of the lake, to explore the third large/group campsite. We can see ourselves camping here, if that’s allowed this summer.

Just past the campsite I follow a trail into the trees and find trees where the bark’s been scraped off: the bear has left claw marks.

We return to the car, load up the wet dog, and drive toward home.

We detour to Dogleg Lake, one of our favourites. On the drive, we spot a (not allowed) camping trailer. At the lake, a man with a B.C. government truck is taking photographs of an (illegal) tent site, an Alberta truck and a garbage-filled campfire pit. Things feel tense, so we turn around and head back.

On the drive out, we see five more Alberta vehicles and two with B.C. plates.

Back home, we settle into some quiet time, Isaac playing Minecraft, watching Trolls and eating a snack plate (aka dinner) in front of the TV. I drink a cider and watch a Sisters in Crime webinar by Dana Kaye on “Growing an Engaged Community.” I feel like I’m training for my eventual book launch.

Isaac and I read Elephant & Piggy books, because he loves them and to practice so he can read one to his teacher. I studied English lit at university and it makes my heart warm when he expresses the emotions on the characters’ faces, or in the punctuation. He delights in abrupt plot turns. Isaac offers some offhand character analysis: “Gerald is so intense,” and I’m aglow at my gifted son.

We try to read a new book that came today in the mail, another gift from his “Secret Admirer,” but it’s a bit too complicated for him to follow, especially when he’s sleepy. I read Angela’s Airplane, and then he falls asleep a few pages into our fifth book.

UPDATE: Peter says those “claw marks” are hatchet marks, and not from bear claws. Well, the adrenalin was real, at least!

April 30, 2020 (Thursday) — DAY 46

Isaac has his rescheduled piano lesson at 9:45am: he can now play a memorized song with both hands. He’s also shockingly quick to master flats and sharps. His next challenge is to learn 3/4 timing.

Isaac’s class’s video meeting starts at 10:30am. Ms Casey invites each kid to share something from a time they were in nature this week. I’ve primed Isaac, reminding him of our afternoon adventure at the lake with Evy yesterday. He chooses to tell the class that Evy let him drive on one of the forest roads. 

I’ve resolved to reduce Isaac’s Minecraft time, but then he’s invited to play online with Konnor, Konnor’s friend and that friend’s little sister. This is a rare opportunity to socialize and practice interacting with other kids, albeit in a pixelated, virtual world limited to typed conversation. I allow it.

At 2pm, Evy comes over and we tune into a Facebook Live event: Theresa from Taynton Bay Spirits guides us through 3–4 recipes for “camping cocktails.”

The first drink involves a rim of chocolate sauce and crumbled graham cracker cookies, with a toasted marshmallow garnish:

When the tutorial ends, Evy and I take our drinks to the couch and enjoy the campfire. I play a “crackling fire” sound effect on the speaker and it’s almost sorta like the real thing … no.

Arno emails: his agent has offered to meet me via phone! This is exciting. But I’ve had three shots of liquor by now so I’ll wait to send my introductory email.

It’s been raining hard for most of the day. When it stops, Isaac and I set out for a walk. Mom joins us. We head to the high school, then toward Evy’s house, where Isaac stops to enjoy a popsicle and have a sword fight with his cousin in the yard. Mom and I walk home. 

I use this free time to read the first 16 pages of Iona Whishaw’s An Old, Cold Grave. It’s enjoyable, but I’m craving chips so I go to the grocery store and restock our grocery supplies, plus chips.

At home, Isaac completes his schoolwork (finally). He falls asleep when we’re reading books, then wakes up so we can read two Elephant & Piggy books together. Then he’s back asleep. Wow, he really loves those books.

There is drama on Facebook: I’ve posted the pictures from our lake adventure yesterday, and am now challenged to justify the “germ circle” Evy and I have established, given that we’re all supposed to be social distancing with non-household members. I draft some neutralizing (I wish) responses in my head, then decide it’s not worth the effort and just delete the post. 

I realize that when I was judging those Alberta drivers yesterday for coming here to play in our forest district, they might have been judging me and Evy for driving around in the same car. 

In the decades that I’ve been writing, sharing my personal stories on the Internet, I’ve often found it tricky to choose how much truth to reveal, whether to spin it, and what to leave out. 

In one “non-fiction” story about Brock dying, I lied: I changed an anecdote because I knew he wouldn’t have wanted the intimate truth shared. My falsified version still got the point across, without causing him unnecessary embarrassment.

I started these Pandemic Diaries to record my family’s experience of this crazy, society-changing time: I don’t want to feel like I have to edit these entries to avoid someone’s judgment. So I’ll continue this diary offline, as of May. I’ll wait until the shaming-dust settles. And then maybe I can post those entries publicly, to complete my historical record.

Thank you so very much for reading, and sharing this story with me.

UPDATE: My friend Quinn was distraught that I stopped posting these daily entries online, so I compromised and started a Pandemic Diaries email list. These diaries (from May 2020) are now available online: click here to keep reading.

Heather’s Pandemic Diaries on Medium.com

(This series was also posted on Medium.com. We started recording our days on Monday, March 16.)

(Thank you so very much to my Patreon patrons, who continue to support my writing through this complicated time.)

Pandemic Diaries: April 2020

A daily journal of the COVID-19 / coronavirus pandemic

April 1, 2020 (Wednesday) – DAY 17

Fresh snow! I love snow, but boy I sure miss reading in the sunshine on my porch.

I’m starting to see dust again, so I tidy up the house, clean our bathroom, do laundry and wash the dishes.

My wind-instrument band hasn’t been able to rehearse for many weeks, but we get a fresh set list and new music via email today. It will be fun to learn more songs on my clarinet.

Isaac is thoroughly addicted to Minecraft (in case you haven’t already noticed from these journal entries) and so I decree that we are going to alternate his iPad and Netflix time with non-screen activities. Today, that includes him playing, reading a book with me, folding washcloths and sorting socks, and dictating an email to his grade one teacher, Ms. Casey.

For “music appreciation,” I play Isaac his Dad’s favourite song: “Mr Jones.” I have very few regrets, but one is that I didn’t record Brock singing and playing this on his guitar.

I post on Facebook and send out an email, asking people to register their support for our grant application to raise awareness of the chamber’s online community events calendar. What a lovely idea, to think of attending community events again, and not just Zoom meetings.

Speaking of which: I partake in an online presentation on how to make the most of your LinkedIn profile, one of many talks I’ve signed up for via our local Iso-Learning Summit

Ryan tells me that local trades are seeing an increase in business: one painter said business is up 40%. Maybe because everyone else is stuck at home, and they see the reno projects that can be done.

I get another email about concert tickets being refunded. The concert has been rescheduled for March 2021, and I wish I had a calendar for next year so I can start writing down these events. There’s a pandemic business opportunity!

My body is craving exercise. I need a schedule, to get out of this lethargic, jigsaw-puzzling rut.

Evy has created a schedule for her family, mainly to get her teenage son outdoors and away from his video games a few times a day. Isaac is getting rude again and we need some structure here too.

I’m hearing more reports that this isolation / social-distancing will continue. Through April, likely into the summer, and then they expect a second wave of the plague in the fall.

This motivates me to consider the bigger picture: schedules, yes, and more exercise, and some structure so I can start writing my second book next week. This is not just one long weekend.

If this is going to be our new normal for the long-term, we will need to do something to help Dauna, who lives alone. I don’t really understand extroverts, but I know my extrovert friend is struggling. So I call her and invite her to join our “germ circle.” She can visit us INSIDE the house, come for meals, sit and work, sleepover in the germ-free guest room, whatever she needs. Sometimes mental health is more important than physical health.

I mess up my clean kitchen by cooking a deer roast (with thanks to Evy and Peter for the meat), carrots, mushrooms, gravy and Yorkshire puddings. I eat waaay more than I should. 

At noise time, we are joined by three other households, banging their pots from their decks and doors, and this makes me so happy.

Dauna comes over to eat Yorkshires and play a game, then she leaves and it’s books and bedtime.

I read a very long Minecraft book about creating circuits with redstone before my son falls asleep.

The federal government has launched their Canada Emergency Response Benefit. I am disappointed to read that the criteria have changed since the original announcement, and it is now only for those who have lost 100% of their income due to COVID-19. I’m down at least one job and many hours, and my son is no longer in school, but there is nothing (yet) that will help us financially.

How decadent this is, how Canadian, for me to have expected help. I make myself stop whining and instead be grateful for everything we have.

April 2, 2020 (Thursday) — DAY 18

Snow, again. Okay, this is REALLY feeling like the same day on repeat.

I watch a super useful presentation on Google tools as part of the (free!) iso-learning summit, and then spend 15 minutes sharing cool tips I learned with my professional friends via email and Facebook messenger. If I wasn’t so determined to prioritize my writing dreams this year, I’d start a career in digital marketing: I’ve always had a thing for SEO.

Isaac and I find a Minecraft-themed workout routine on YouTube and I get him to jump, run and swing his arms for awhile. First parent win of the day!

Last night, Evy sent me a link to an online fitness class that’s running every Thursday morning through The Lady Alliance, so I get sweaty doing that for an hour.

Then Mom and Dad invite us to join them on a walk around the neighbourhood. Isaac brings his shovel and unearths all the chalk drawings we did a few days ago. 

Back home, we get Dad’s advice on where to set up our 12′ trampoline, and then we set up an outdoor barber shop. I cut Dad’s hair with the clippers, and then Isaac attempts to cut his own. I finish the job: it’s actually not terrible. Just bad. The first of many pandemic haircuts, I expect.

Pandemic haircut #1.

Back inside, Isaac and I work on the castle we’re building in Minecraft. He wants to buy more Minecraft skins, so we call Dad and ask if there’s any work to be had at their house. Isaac spends an hour painting bird houses (and playing soccer) with Dad, and I buy him more Minecraft coins.

It appears the school district will continue to pay me, at least for now, even though my job as a noon-hour supervisor is entirely irrelevant these days. Yay income!

At 3:30pm I visit with my Victoria, B.C. friends Laura and Jessie via Zoom. Laura’s supposed to be starting a new job on May 1, but has no idea if or how that will happen. Laura’s husband, Jessie and Jessie’s husband are all working from home. With kids. So that’s challenging.

My sister invites Isaac to join her, my nephew and their dog on a walk. He meets them on the sidewalk and I’m left alone again.

I’m happy with how much my kid has been outdoors today, and he’s spent time with people other than me. Best pandemic day yet?

One other household comes out to join us for “noise time” at 7pm. We watch Shrek (“film study & social history class”) and Isaac rates it two thumbs, two hands and two feet up.

We read books (of course) and he falls asleep. 

Heather foretells the future

I trust the experts and understand why we’re supposed to be in lockdown. BUT the only ways I see out of this pandemic are: 1. we get vaccinated, or 2. our community develops herd immunity, which means that more of us will have to be infected first. And the sooner either/both happens, the better off we’ll all be financially and mental-health-ily.

I suspect our human nature will result in option 2: despite our good intentions, we will start craving contact again and gradually broaden our “germ circles.” Yes, this will lead to more infections, but it might save some of us from other dangers, like depression and alcoholism.

We will invite our isolated extroverts in. Separated families will reunite. Single people will fall in love. Our kids will want to hug their grandparents, or hold hands with their aunts. Extended families or neighbours will choose to form their own closed systems, so that their kids can play together.

Maybe those circles will continue to widen, encompassing streets or neighbourhoods. Gradual exposure. Within some of these circles, infections will erupt. And, eventually, we’ll have herd immunity and a return to almost-normal.

Or, we’ll all be locked down separately in our homes forever …

On a happier note, my 40th birthday Lego set arrived today!

Isaac studies the back of the box. My new modular building set is the one on the right. Mmmm.

April 3, 2020 (Friday) — DAY 19

My sister starts our morning (at 9:30am) with a group Facetime call: me, Evy and Mom. I’m on my second cup of orange pekoe, on the couch beside Isaac, who is playing Minecraft. Mom and Evy are both still in bed.

Peter returned to work this week. He drives the sweeper truck today, cleaning the roads, and dumps two more piles of gravel in our parking area.

Isaac loved Shrek so much last night that we watch Shrek 2 before noon. In other words: we have “film appreciation” class. We both love spotting references to other fairy tales in these movies. I consider this part of his literary education.

We play Lego: I work on my Assembly Square set, while he builds Queen Watevra Wa-Nabi shapes (from The Lego Movie 2). We bring his shapes down to our “master-building” rug, aka The Plains of Chaos, and create a story using all the Queen shapes.

He tells me we aren’t doing much schooling. I disagree. Our version of school is just different.

My butt cheek muscles hurt from the exercises yesterday morning.

I have a video date with my friend John Close: he and his pal Andrew started their Obstacle Course podcast 13 months ago. (My episode on grieving Brock holds the record for most downloads.) John and Andrew want to give their listeners a chance to engage more, so we brainstorm ideas.

I hear firetruck sirens and end our call. It’s our young neighbour’s birthday, and the Invermere Volunteer Fire Department is scheduled to make a (free!) appearance. They’ve been offering this to local kids, to make birthdays special during lockdown. Isaac and I race up the street, watch the trucks from 100 feet away, and sing “Happy Birthday” with the family and fire fighters. Everyone’s standing so far apart it seems weird. 

Back home, I rake down the gravel piles. Isaac gets a garden tool and creates Halo storylines: he played that game with Dad pre-pandemic. 

Isaac sets up a sprinkler and we cuddle under a blanket in our porch chair with hot drinks, watching our new water feature.

When it gets cold, we drive and deliver a present to Isaac’s friend Ella. She’s at home with two twin infant brothers, and I bet she (and her parents) are going squirrelly. I’m very careful about germs, packing the book, sidewalk chalk and small Lego set. Isaac uses hand sanitizer before he delivers the present. 

Karma is a funny thing: when we get home, our friend Juli arrives and delivers wrapped presents to me and Isaac from the toy store. Isaac’s is from “a secret admirer.” It’s exciting.

His pandemic haircut is growing on me.

There’s a board game and some creepy black sticky things that crawl like bugs on the wall. I don’t open my present or the card, assuming they’re for my upcoming birthday.

Every business and public service body has been sending out reassuring COVID-19 emails these days. Today I get one from Alistair MacGregor, the Member of Parliament from my old riding of Cowichan-Malahat. It’s the usual info about federal programs, and then an offer to help out constituents with their applications. 

And THEN there’s a bit about how he understands the CERB won’t help lots of us (e.g. students, “those with multiple part-time jobs”) and that he’s lobbying for financial support for these people. I’m cheered by this news, and then realize I’m supporting what the NDP party calls “Universal Basic Income,” which is something I disagree with, and feel conflicted. 

Brock would love watching me work through these internal struggles. Not for the first time, I wonder if my deceased husband has sent us this virus, to teach us lessons in economics or as part of some philosophical experiment.

We have dinner, do “noise time” (with one household joining us), then watch Shrek 3. Isaac has some time for Minecraft, and then we read books and he falls asleep.

April 4, 2020 (Saturday) — DAY 20

Yet again, I wake up to find Isaac in my bed. This has to stop. Bad habits! At least we’ve broken the “sleeping in” habit: it’s 7:40am, which is much better than the now-usual 8:30am.

I publish my blog post on how the pandemic has made it tricky to choose a “when” for modern fiction stories, and then publish it on Medium too.

It’s frosty and overcast but looks like it might clear up: Evy and Peter have offered to pick up our trampoline and set it up for us in Mom and Dad’s backyard, so I use the morning to get some work done, adding more virtual events to our community’s events calendar.

While they work on the trampoline, I leave Isaac with my sister and drive the 15 minutes out to Radium to pick up a used XBox 360 I bought off our local buy & swap Facebook group last night. This is a long-term lockdown investment. If I can keep it a secret long enough, it’s what Isaac currently wants for Christmas 2020. I wanted the older, 360 version because two players can play together on it.

When I return, the trampoline is all ready (thanks, Evy and Peter!). Isaac and I bounce and wrestle and play for a long time, until it gets cold and I’m hungry.

We go back indoors for lunch-dinner, Netflix and Lego.

Sitting on the floor together, watching Shrek mini-movies.

I’ve subscribed to Acorn to sate my addiction to mystery shows, and watch the first episode of Midsomer Murders, season 23 while working on my current Lego set: Ninjago City. Isaac acts out his own dramatic story line with various toys.

I find a Q&A interview with an ER doctor in Chilliwack. It is positive, realistic, and informative. Dr. Marc Greidanus expects this extreme lockdown to last for another month or two, followed by gradually reduced restrictions, with a vaccine or treatment in 18 months-ish. He recommends wearing masks when out in public, and washing our hands constantly rather than wearing gloves.

We decorate Easter eggs with crayons and food colouring. This is our tradition: I buy a dozen of those fake, dye-able eggs from Walmart, and we decorate them over and over again until Easter. I save them every year: this is dozen number six.

My neighbour Camille comes out for noise time. Mom reports that she did too. We couldn’t hear her banging because we’re so loud.

Isaac makes a bowl of popcorn while I prep two chocolate ice cream cones: this is our new normal. We watch Netflix, then read our books. Tonight is: Flat Stanley, Dora, nursery rhymes to enhance our Shrek experience, and Sesame Street stories.

I am sleepy. A shower and bedtime for me.

April 5, 2020 (Sunday) — DAY 21

I’m awake before Isaac, which is a rare and magical thing. Our morning is, as always these days, spent drinking tea, playing Minecraft and having adventures with our Lego.

Isaac asks if we can play on the trampoline again, and I remind him we bought it, it’s ours, and we can play on it every day. 

We watch a YouTube video on how to do front flips, and then spend time on the trampoline bouncing, somersaulting, and doing tuck jumps to help us work up the courage to flip: not yet. I practice cartwheels, which I have yet to learn even though I turn 40 next week.

I’m grumpy today, and can’t seem to shake the mood. This makes Isaac moody too. We need a change of scenery, fresh air and more activity, so we head down to the beach at 1:30pm. The ice is melting on the lake. Isaac smashes the ice with his hammer while I use his little-kid rake to scoop up big pieces and step on them. It’s fantastic therapy for two people who have been together every day for three weeks.

Isolation therapy at Kinsmen Beach.

Eventually, Isaac is soaking wet so we go home. He cuddles up in warm pajamas on my bed and watches Netflix while I work on my Ninjago Lego set. 

Evy and Peter bring us groceries, and I make us an amazing lunch-dinner.

Our local fire department and RCMP detachment are doing a procession past the hospital and ambulance station at 7pm to thank our local health care folks, so we drive down, park, and cheer them as they drive past.

Isaac and I have the inevitable fight as we get home: we’ve been working toward this explosion all day. I get him into his bed and try to talk him through it, apologizing for being grumpy. We read Elephant & Piggie books together, and I’m amazed at how well he reads.

At 8:30pm, when he usually falls asleep, he opens his eyes and says he’s too scared: he thinks he’ll have nightmares. I read another story, and try to distract him, but it’s no use.

I update this journal, and then check on him: he’s still awake. So I let him move to my bed. I know he’ll fall asleep here. This is a bad habit to start, but at least I’ll have some time to build Lego tonight and try to cheer myself up.

April 6, 2020 (Monday) — DAY 22

It’s 5:30am and I wake up (in my own bed, with Isaac asleep beside me) because I’ve had a scary dream.

My grumpiness makes me inclined to lie there awake, alone: to put up walls and lock out the world. But then (this is so random) I think of Frozen 2:

PABBIE: “When one can see no future, all one can do is the next right thing.”

So I pick up my phone and reach out to my boyfriend, texting him about my nightmare: I tried to open a door in my house, but it was stuck, and when I shoved it I realized a man was hiding behind the door. 

RYAN: “I’m getting dressed and coming over right now.”

And he does come over, which is so nice: we cuddle on the couch and watch the sunrise until he has to leave at 7am. 

And then I go back to sleep. Isaac checks on me (aka harasses me) every 30 minutes until I am finally ready to get up at 9:30am.

It has snowed again. The skies are clear blue, and it promises to be a beautiful, warm-ish day. My grumpiness has dissipated.

I’m drinking tea beside Isaac on the couch when his school’s speech therapist, Karin, emails. He’s the first kid to request online speech therapy during lockdown so we’ll be her guinea pigs. We test Facetime, then she sends us a video to help us practice Isaac’s “L” sounds: our homework is to say “I like ___” sentences, carefully pronouncing the “L.”

While making our breakfast, I stumble into a Facebook conversation on my friend Morgan’s feed about the Canada Emergency Response Benefit (CERB). I’m not the only one whose income has been affected by the plague and yet doesn’t qualify for the CERB. The musicians are roused.

Mid-conversation, I Google “CERB don’t qualify” and see that the Canadian government has announced they’re working on financial support for people like me. Woot woot! 

Dauna invites us to join her on a walk along the paved Westside Trail. We bring Isaac’s scooter and shovel (some parts still have snow). It is sunny, warm and gorgeous out in the forest.

Back home, we do some “school,” doing literacy with Teach Your Monster and then numbers with a Sesame Street app on our iPad.

We head outside to plant the pinecones and burrs we collected on our walk in potting soil. Isaac creates a storyline with the hose: from what I overhear, it sounds like he’s waterboarding a rock.

On the trampoline, we practice our front flips, corkscrews and cartwheels, and then Isaac goes inside to play Minecraft while I work on my mystery subplots on the sunny porch.

It’s nice to have experts on-call while plotting my book.

I do a Zumba Strong workout via Zoom for an hour, while Isaac roasts hot dogs with Dad and my nephew at Dad’s fire pit.

We do noise time (joined by Camille and mom), and then watch Peter Rabbit for the second time. I’m so disappointed they’ve postponed the sequel’s release until January 2021.

We read books in bed and Isaac falls asleep quickly. This has been one of our best days in captivity yet.

April 7, 2020 (Tuesday) — DAY 23

We agree to tackle our “schooling at home” in the mornings. I chug orange pekoe tea beside Isaac on the couch and we practice phonetics via Teach Your Monster on the iPad, followed by addition games with our Osmo. It’s fun, and Isaac continues “school” even when I go make us breakfast.

I check in with Pete at the chamber of commerce, then spend multiple hours updating our events calendar, making it more COVID-19-era functional, and then posting on Facebook, inviting the community to share their events with us. Instead of becoming obsolete in this weird era of social distancing, our events calendar might be exactly what our connection-loving small town needs.

Mom and Isaac walk down to the mailbox, and Isaac returns with an Easter card from my in-laws and a birthday card for me.

It’s ferociously windy. I’m tempted to fly our new kite that Evy brought Isaac, but the wind would probably destroy the kite. We bounce on the trampoline instead: my front flips are improving, and I finish a sorta-cartwheel on my feet. 

I want to make an egg carton Easter flower wreath craft I saw on Facebook, and so bring the paint supplies up to Mom and Dad’s patio: they sit in the sunshine and watch us paint until it gets cold.

Back indoors, we play Lego for a bit, then I make chocolate chip cookies from my friend Maeve’s recipe

Dauna comes over after she’s done working (from home) and we finish painting our flowers.

Dauna participates in her first ever “noise time” at 7pm: we’re joined by Camille and Mom, outside their own homes.

After dinner, Isaac has a much-needed bath (with his colour-changing Hot Wheels cars and a bucket of ice water). Dauna and I hot-glue the flowers onto the cardboard wreath. 

Dauna leaves and we watch some Netflix.

We read Franklin, Berenstain Bears and our usual Shel Silverstein poems.

Once Isaac’s asleep, I tune in (30 minutes late) to my friend Adrian Chalifour’s Facebook livestream: he has an incredible voice and plays guitar songs for us, to celebrate his birthday.

Not everyone is doing this well

I read two interesting perspectives online today:

1. A Medium article about two parents working from home, struggling to care for (never mind “home school”) their son, who is struggling emotionally.

2. Two tweets from essential services workers: “Essential retail workers aren’t heroes, they’re hostages. They want to go home. … But they can’t.” And: “I do this because I have a child at home and I can’t get unemployment if I quit.”

I am reminded of just how lucky Isaac and I are, to be safe at home together, able to play and learn and have adventures together. I have no idea how to support all these other people, who are struggling.

April 8, 2020 (Wednesday) — DAY 24

Happy Garbage Pick-up Day! 

I stayed up too late on the social medias and then Isaac decided we were getting up at 7:30am, so I’m sleepy. I drink tea and work on my Ninjago City Lego set. Isaac wants to build a set too, so we choose some options from our collection and he constructs a helicopter for one of his action heroes, Skunky (a Lego skunk).

That’s me, in my PJs, at the crab restaurant.

Mom, Evy and I tend to check in every morning via Messenger: I ask for help teaching Isaac to ride his bike. He’s reluctant and I suspect this is one of those life skills he can’t learn with his safety net (aka me) standing there

At 11am, our three households converge at the high school’s running track. Mom and Dad are on their bikes. Evy and my nephew bring their dog. I have Isaac’s bike and a soccer ball.

We get him on his bike for 25 feet, with me holding the seat, before he opts out.

So we play soccer, while Mom cycles laps around the track and Evy throws tennis balls for her dog.

We are self-conscious about being so visibly together on this open field, and joke about being shamed online by witnesses. But we’re careful to stay apart from each other, and we’re all doing our best to stay germ-free daily, staying home most of the time.

Masks have become a hot topic on Facebook and in interviews with health experts and politicians. Mom is sewing some for us. But we don’t wear them on the field, and none of the three people we see during our time outside are wearing masks yet either.

Back home, we do our “school work,” playing spelling, phonics and addition games on the iPad.

I wash my hands, bag up a toy crib (plus baby doll and accessories) and leave it outside for another mom to pick up: she posted on Facebook, asking for one. Once again, karma is immediate, because while I’m lounging on our sunny porch working on my mystery plot, a courier van delivers a large parcel for me:

It’s a 40th birthday gift basket from my best friend of 21 years, Quinn, and his sweetie. It is giant and decadent, and I spot bath treats and tea right away.

My magnificent birthday gift basket, sent via Pacific Basket Company.

This gives me an excuse to call Q, whom I miss. Q and Taylor live in Vancouver. They have both been busy working their respective jobs via video calls from morning until dinner time. Q says he even dresses properly, despite being at home. 

I remember that we’re supposed to pick up Isaac’s stuff from his school today: they’ve left a bag outside for him. He suggests we ride our bike-for-two down. Picking up this bag, containing his indoor shoes and all his artwork, feels definitive. When will our kids be back in a classroom? I cross my fingers for September.

We play more Lego, eat dinner, extend our 7pm “noise time” with a mini dance party on the deck, and then watch a Netflix show before books and bedtime. Isaac is asleep by 9pm.

A Facebook friend posts a controversial interview with Knut Wittkowski, who says this lockdown approach to the pandemic is all wrong. We’ll see what happens in Sweden long-term, I suppose.

Locally, our little town is bracing itself for an influx of Albertans this weekend, crossing the border to camp out in their second homes for Easter and beyond. 

We usually depend on these part-time residents economically, but our little outpost hospital has eight hospital beds and one ventilator: the mayor and local doctors have asked these families to stay in Alberta. The regional district has asked the Province to close the border to non-essential traffic, but we doubt that will happen in time.

April 9, 2020 (Thursday) — DAY 25

Happy Recycling Pick-Up Day!

I wake up with a stressful dream fresh in my mind: my renters had invited two more families to live with them in the one bedroom suite, and — shocking! — they weren’t practicing social distancing. 

So now I’m having stress dreams about the plague.

Once I shake off the dream, Isaac and I have a pleasant morning of breakfast decadence, tea, and Minecraft on the couch.

My financial advisor calls to check in on a matured GIC. I end up crying, not for the first time: it’s a complicated thing to explain, but money management is a grief trigger for me. Also, Brock and I were married 8 years ago today, so I’m extra sensitive. 

Brendan handles my weird weeping like a gentleman. It occurs to me that this “money + grief” should be a Medium story: I brainstorm some thoughts and share them with my Patreon community

I’m due for a shower. I go for a run first, and do a short work-out in my bedroom while watching more Community. This show makes me laugh so hard that it’s hard to do sit-ups properly.

Evy delivers groceries, plus a very thin copy of our local newspaper (they’re still struggling financially due to no one advertising). I discover a lovely “happy birthday” ad on the back page:

Aww!

Back to the plague: a Facebook friend says she’s “going to be Sweden” and I sense the rumblings of a revolt against this mandated lockdown. When I text this prediction to Evy and Mom, Evy reports that her husband has heard the same sentiments.

Another friend reports that a Tinder guy she chats with, who lives in Calgary, had his vehicle broken into and the only thing stolen was his industrial face mask.

My nephew invites me to play Magic the Gathering with him in their yard. It is sunny and warm enough for just a hoody. Isaac puts on his ninja costume and we head over: he plays jumbo Jenga with Evy while I battle my nephew.

We sit across a picnic table from each other: closer than the recommended 6 feet. This rebellious talk of Sweden’s approach and striving for herd immunity vs. waiting for a vaccine while our economy implodes is chipping away at my self-discipline.

Back home, I figure out how to set up our antique ipod so that Isaac can control his own music. He loves his “music phone” and is the happiest six-year-old ever.

We have dinner, watch some Lego Star Wars, read the usual stack of books, and Isaac falls asleep.

I really want to spend my birthday on Sunday with my boyfriend. He has two pre-teens and they aren’t as quarantined as we are, but I’m tempted to relax our lockdown restrictions. 

My friend Rob posted, back in the early days of all this, that he’s seen a lot of people “stop living” out of a fear of dying, and I don’t want to be one of those people.

But just as I’m thinking this, bracing myself to risk infection for a hedonistic smooch, I scroll through Medium and see a story about a 39-year-old man who died from COVID-19 (that’s my age!!), and another with the headline: “Social Distancing is Dead Serious. Hold the Line.”

My birthday isn’t for three more days. Time enough to decide.

It takes forever for me to fall asleep.

April 10, 2020 (Friday) — DAY 26

We wake up just after 7am, Isaac in his own bed (yay!).

I’ve been drinking that nice Murchie’s Rocky Mountain black tea blend since it arrived in Q & Taylor’s gift basket. It’s lovely. I decide to let myself start on my birthday Lego set, the bookshop modular building, and revel in new Lego while drinking my tea.

My new 2,504-piece Lego set. Happy 40th birthday, me!

I try to find that Knut article to share with Mom, and recent Google results tell me the guy’s a truther hero. My Facebook friend has deleted the link from her page. I check Sweden’s situation, and it looks like things are going to shit there too.

By noon, it is sunny and actually getting hot outside. We set up Isaac’s Hot Wheels car wash and painting shop on the porch, and he plays while I work on the subplots of my mystery book. 

Then we jump on the trampoline for a bit. Isaac plays rough. I think he’s frustrated with me, that I’m not playing as much with him today. This kid expects a lot.

Back home, I change into a bathing suit and toast in the sunshine: it’s 16 degrees and I get sweaty. 

Later, I work on my car decorations for the Easter Car Conga parade that’s happening Sunday. I make giant flowers out of tissue wrapping paper.

Hand prints for another craft, to be revealed shortly …

Isaac’s piano lesson is at 5:15 pm. He has a fantastic ear and sense of rhythm. It’s a shame he doesn’t love his lessons more. This is one of the few things I make him do. 

Then, it’s the moment we’ve been waiting for: Trolls World Tour (the sequel) is available online! We had planned to watch this in the movie theatre together, for my birthday. At least they’ve released it, instead of postponing it. The sequel does not disappoint. We pause it for a short noise time at 7pm.

After the movie, I give Isaac another thirty minutes to play while I work on my Lego set and have a video visit with Ryan.

We read books, Isaac falls asleep, and I get his Easter stuff ready. 

Facebook tells me that Vancouver Island is experiencing the same influx of vacationers that we are, with folks heading over from the mainland via BC Ferries. Of course they are. Did the premiers really think “asking” people to stay home this long weekend was enough?

I predict righteous vandalism, with locals “teaching” vacationers a lesson. I predict an upswing in small community cases after this weekend. I hope they’ll close the borders and the ferries, and maybe even set up road stops to check people’s drivers’ licenses. Maybe this weekend free-for-all is a good thing: they’ll see the problem, and have time to crack down before the May long weekend and summer.

Once again I think of Brock, watching all of this with his favourite, deceased philosopher buddies beside him, eating popcorn. They’re loving these social experiments in individual rights vs. the good of the whole, the ethical dilemmas, the politics, et cetera.

I stay up until 1:30am playing Lego, because I’m almost 40 and can do whatever I want.

April 11, 2020 (Saturday) — DAY 27

Our morning is typical: Minecraft, tea, Lego.

I make a lemon meringue pie for my birthday. The government doesn’t want me to share it, so I guess I’ll have to eat it all myself. (Yay!)

Once it’s on the deck to cool and set, I make our breakfast. We watch Trolls 2 again: it’s a rental, and we only have it for 24 more hours.

It’s time to do our laundry. 

To make room in my closet for warmer-weather tops, I pack away my winter clothes and some other clothes that I don’t foresee wearing anytime soon, due to the apocalypse: my concert band uniform, extra workout shirts, some fancier tops. 

I’m tempted to put away my collection of nice dresses, but you never know. Maybe we’ll have a fancy clothes parade someday. I heard some people in isolation are doing “fancy Fridays,” where they get dressed up, even wearing bras and doing their hair. To stay in practice.

It’s really cold and breezy outside, but Isaac wants to practice his scootering so we go to the deck and I wrap up in a blanket.

I’ve thought of another Medium post, examining the many ways that this apocalypse is not what I anticipated back when I was learning all those homesteader skills. I map out some thoughts for a future Medium story and share them with my Patreon supporters.

One of my favourite pairs of shorts has a hole in the back. I track down my sewing supplies and find a scrap of quilting fabric to patch on. 

We’re doing Osmo math when Evy arrives and kidnaps my son. They have a secret playdate. Perhaps it has something to do with my 40th birthday tomorrow? I use the time to hide two of the three clues for Isaac’s Easter bunny treasure hunt tomorrow.

Ryan brings me sushi (my favourite food) for dinner. He and his sons have been around too many people for me to let him in the house, so we eat our fantastic dinner outside, with a pot of green tea. By 6pm it’s chilly in the shade, so we put on warmer coats and gloves and walk around the block. I manage to resist smooching him, but we hold hands.

My bestie, Q, texts and says he wants to Facetime at 6:15pm. When Ryan and I get back to my house, we go check out the 40 flamingos that have appeared on my lawn. This makes me so happy: I’ve always wanted lawn flamingos for my 40th!

Quinn calls, and then I hear a siren and honks, and suddenly there’s a parade of cars driving past my house, led by Evy and her husband in his truck, which is decorated with balloons, a huge banner and pretty yellow pompoms. Isaac and my nephew wave from the back of the truck. The second vehicle is a fire department pick-up truck, with a SIREN! 

This is so sweet. My mom and dad have inflated flamingo pool toys strapped to their car and truck. Aside from Dauna, every other driver is a friend I haven’t seen in over three weeks. Even the mayor (a family friend) and his family make an appearance.

Evy and Peter stop post-parade to decorate my porch and deck. Dallas has left me a birthday present and wonderful homemade card.

Isaac agrees to have a bath and wash his hair for my birthday. Then we set traps for the Easter bunny, as is our tradition. 

I invite him for a “sleepover” in my bed, as a special treat for me (I say), and he falls asleep happy.

Once I place the final clue for Isaac’s Easter treasure hunt on the trampoline, I settle in for some quality, “last day of my 30s” time with my Lego and Netflix.

What a great start to my 40th!

April 12, 2020 (Sunday) — DAY 28

Happy 40th birthday to me! Happy Easter!

Ugh I have to pee at 6am and this means risking waking Isaac. But I’m not going to start my forties by peeing in my bed so I get up. He stirs and at 6:30am we’re checking on our trap for the Easter bunny.

Yes, the bunny did indeed come during the night, and he evaded our traps: it’s a wonder we didn’t hear the maracas, tamborine or mini cymbals crash to the floor!

One perk of being a parent is that we get to create our own traditions. Isaac and my Easter tradition is that we decorate another dozen eggs, and then the Easter bunny comes and STEALS THEM on Easter Sunday. He’s a villain. 

But luckily the bunny has left a scrap of a map, which (we hope!) will lead us to our precious egg collection.

It takes a bit for Isaac to figure out the first clue, which gives me time to drink orange pekoe and start waking up.

By 6:40am we’re on the deck. It is -7 degrees and we’re shivering in our jammies. We find the next clue (along with some chocolate eggs, to fuel Isaac) and retreat back inside to puzzle over our next location. 

By 7am we’ve visited the trampoline and the tree fort, rescued our collection of eggs, and Isaac has a basket of treats to make up for the emotional trauma of the Easter bunny’s annual home invasion and theft.

With Easter conquered, Isaac brings me a piece of a photo collage and a clue: we will spend my birthday on a treasure hunt.

After solving the first clue, Isaac and I start fighting (my spoiled only child doesn’t like that it’s not HIS birthday), and runs away to Mom and Dad’s. 

I celebrate my birthday independence by returning home to work on my Lego set, drink a glass of sparkly wine and eat two pieces of lemon meringue pie for breakfast.

Evy comes over and we decorate my car. A local woman has organized an Easter car conga. Our three households head down to Kinsmen Beach for the 11am start. Isaac joins me in the car for the event, then returns to my parents’.

(Photo by Ryan Watmough.)

The second puzzle in my birthday treasure hunt is a sudoku. I am so happy. My sister knows me really well.

For the rest of the day I solve puzzles (a word search, a crossword, geocaching, scrambled words — which I hate, kaleidoscope puzzles, location riddles). Hunt stops include my boyfriend’s front porch (he has a hot cup of tea waiting for me) and Dauna’s patio. 

The final clue brings me to my parents’ cul de sac at 3:30pm, where everyone is waiting (spaced appropriately). At the designated McLeod area is a box of lemon cupcakes, a chocolate cake with my face on it, a basket of cards, a 7′ inflatable flamingo water lounger, and a bottle of sparkly wine. 

We eat cupcakes, drink sparkly and then everyone lets me go home so I can recharge my introvert batteries while Isaac plays with his cousin. Mom gives me a dish of manicotti for my birthday dinner.

I settle into a sunny spot on my porch and read through my birthday cards. I love all the pandemic jokes: this is a stack of cards to keep.

Isaac returns at 6pm. We do noise time at 7pm, then he watches Netflix while I have a bath with some of the decadent bath salts from Q and Taylor. I am so tired. My eyes won’t even stay open enough to read books. I fall asleep cuddled up with Isaac. 

April 13, 2020 (Monday) — DAY 29

We wake up at 7am, after sleeping for 11 hours. Wow!

It’s another cold, clear day outside. Isaac heads off to visit Dad. I work on my birthday puzzle from Ryan, then start collecting info for my accountant. Kyla has sent me a list of amounts to gather for my 2019 taxes, and it feels like day two of my treasure hunt.

By 1pm it’s warm enough to head outside, albeit a bit chilly. I grab the kite Evy gave Isaac and we go down to the high school field, inviting my sister and Mom by text.

The wind comes and goes, but we get the kite out to the very end of its string once for a long time.

Walking home, Isaac excavates rocks from the dirt trail. We see our neighbours: a teenager and her mom. I ask Emma about her apocalypse experience. Are the teens these days faring well, since they’re so used to texting anyways? She says that physical contact is still important to her circle, and she misses her friends.

It’s actually hot in the sunshine on the porch. I get out my ukulele and discover the 4th string has snapped. To my great relief, I have an extra set of strings. I fix my ukulele and retune it constantly as I play through my music book.

Before spring break, an older kid from Isaac’s school asked if they could play Minecraft together. Konnor’s mom and I get them set up and today Isaac gets to visit Konnor’s world for the first time. Isaac is so excited: he keeps waving at Konnor’s character, even though Konnor can’t see him. I teach him how to use the chat bar.

Evy delivers A&W for our dinner. This is the first time in at least 29 days we’ve had fast food and it’s an event.

Yesterday Evy and I mused about why the B.C. government still allows take-out and delivery from restaurants: what about spreading germs via packaging? What about the sushi I ate Saturday that was hand-rolled? Maybe I could have shared that pie I made. Haha too late — I’ve eaten most of it.

I’m sleepy again by 6pm. Is this what it’s like, being 40? I won’t be able to stay up past 8pm anymore?

Noise time at 7pm. I can see people on the bike track by the skate park. A girl rides by on her bike. We are so lucky to live where we do.

After Isaac’s asleep, I have a video visit with Quinn and Taylor (and their dog, Rigby). We were supposed to drink champagne and celebrate together on my birthday night, but I fell asleep.

I work on my jigsaw puzzle and watch Agatha Raisin on Acorn via my iPhone. At 11pm I get into bed and have a video visit with Ryan. We talk until we’re both falling asleep.

April 14, 2020 (Tuesday) — DAY 30

My dreams have been really vivid lately. Sounds like other people are experiencing this too, due to pandemic trauma.

I drink tea on the couch while Isaac invents a machine to eradicate the coronavirus. Specifically: he wants to erect a forcefield around Invermere that will emit energy beams, killing all the coronavirus germs. He builds a prototype in Minecraft. I film it in operation and send the video to Quinn, so he can share it with the scientists he works with.

I send it to Evy and Mom.

MOM: “Thank goodness. It’s about time someone was proactive.”

Isaac draws a picture of his invention, and I send it to Ms. Casey, who is trying to organize online meet-ups for her students on the Teams app.

Then Isaac races off to visit with Dad for a bit (i.e. play video games). I use the time to finish collecting numbers for my accountant, so we can file my 2019 taxes.

When Isaac returns, I tell him he can do whatever he wants while I have a shower, but he needs to tell me something he’s learned once I’m dressed. He chooses to watch season 6, episode 1 of Trolls

What Isaac learns: “Even if you aren’t friends with someone, you can still get along.”

We continue our “schooling at home” by playing Osmo number games, and then challenge each other with number puzzles using Lego.

It’s overcast and gloomy outside so I’m not eager to get us outdoors. Konnor invites Isaac to play Minecraft and they do that for awhile: Isaac loves this so much. 

We walk to the mailbox to check our mail, and Isaac gets a parcel from Indigo: it’s a book, The Bad Guys, from his secret admirer. (Don’t worry, it’s not a creepy person: it’s my sister, being amazing.)

He finds a stick on the walk back and we bring it up to Mom and Dad’s campfire area, along with a carving knife, hotdogs and a Corona for me. Dad lights a fire and we end up toasting hot dogs (Isaac), veggie dogs (Dad) and elk smokies (me & Mom) for dinner.

While we’re at the campfire, the courier delivers one of the two Osmo coding games I’ve ordered from Walmart.

Back home, we set up the game and it is so fun. Isaac experiments with the commands and asks if he can please play it first thing in the morning when he wakes up, breaking our usual rule of waiting until 7am for devices. 

I tell him yes: the coding game is school, and he can do school work ANYTIME.

We do noise time at 7pm, then watch some Lego Star Wars mini-episodes via Disney+.

We read The Bad Guys, three Elephant & Piggie books, two Ninjago stories, Sesame Street, and poems.

Weird thing I’ve noticed this week: I’m less wasteful than I was pre-pandemic. Specific examples include: I put the two ketchup packets from our A&W take-out into the fridge, instead of throwing them away. I kept the plastic veggie bag, to re-use it. 

Am I getting all wartime-thrifty? Possibly. Good habits, I suppose.

April 15, 2020 (Wednesday) — DAY 31

Happy Garbage Pick-Up Day!

Isaac plays his new coding game before I’m out of bed, and then we continue together once I have tea to drink.

He is eager to keep his character moving, and this leads to errors: I tell him that patience and checking your work are the two first lessons of coding.

Colouring therapy. (I printed out a comic I saw on Facebook.)

Quinn alerts me that the federal government is about to announce more financial supports that might benefit me: eventually the news comes, that they’ve expanded the criteria for the Canada Emergency Response Benefit and we can still qualify if we make up to $1,000/month. Yay! I hope this will help folks working for minimum wage, aka many of our essential services people. I can apply starting Friday, since I was born in April. (They’ve staggered the application days, so as not to overwhelm the system.)

Evy delivers a bin of groceries. It’s mostly bread and eggs and she judges me a bit for not asking for any fresh vegetables. I vow to eat more celery today.

For breakfast, I cook up the last six pieces of thick-cut bacon. Isaac says it is perfectly done. This is the nicest feedback he’s ever offered on my bacon, and I tell him my happy bucket is full (that’s primary school language). He offers to say something mean, so my bucket doesn’t spill over. Six-year-old logic.

It is a beautiful day, but then the wind picks up and continues for the rest of the day.

Mom shows up with a thawed turkey. I’d forgotten that I’ve offered to cook one for our family, but it’s not like I’m busy doing something else. It’s a 12lb bird, so I put it into the over at 3pm.

Isaac goes to play soccer and video games with Dad. I try to sit on the porch, but at that moment the sun goes behind a huge cloud so I work on my mystery plot indoors instead.

I’m feeling overwhelmed with plot decisions. I write a post to my Patreon supporters, then reach out to Juanita to book our second plot consultation.

Isaac returns. We create a Lego storyline about an evil doppelganger and a super-powerful ninja with amnesia. Isaac’s teacher calls to check in and I assure her Isaac is still learning.

He’s playing Minecraft when his piano teacher texts and I remember our weekly video lesson. Isaac grudgingly plays through the exercises. He doesn’t like it that I force him to learn piano. I hate the battle, but it’s good for us to have one thing I make him do. And piano is such a great skill to learn.

Peter arrives just before 6pm to carve the turkey. We parcel out shares for Mom and Grandma, Peter’s grandma Oma, my sister’s family, and us. Peter delivers the carcass to Mom so she can make soup for everyone.

Social-distance family turkey dinner: one turkey, shared over four households.

Someone somewhere in Canada has decided that Wednesday is “Takeout Night,” to support local restaurants. My first thought is that this is a terrible idea, to concentrate all those orders on a single day. Within hours I see a restaurant ask for people to NOT all order on the same day, since it overwhelms their skeleton staff. Told you so. How about a little consultation, people?

After Isaac and I eat our turkey dinner, we play Osmo some more.

We do noise time at 7pm, then watch a few episodes of Trolls before reading a stack of books. Our new bedtime routine is to start books at 8pm (an hour later than pre-pandemic times), and then Isaac falls asleep around 9pm.

This gives me an hour or so to myself each night. Even when I’m tired, I try to stay awake and let myself do something fun. Tonight, that means working on my jigsaw puzzle and watching the pilot episode of “The Brokenwood Mysteries” on Acorn.

For April 16 and beyond, read Part 2

(You can also follow the series on Medium.com. We started recording our days on Monday, March 16.)

(Please feel free to post a comment.)

(Thank you so very much to my Patreon patrons, who continue to support my writing through this complicated time.)