This is the first shoe before total lockdown. They are not insisting that I remain in my room. Just urging me to stay in the Asylum, And, this is a chuckle – they are going to help us get grocery delivery. Well, good luck with that – on lots of levels. Since they feed us – this is a little disconcerting. Also disconcerting
Our geedunk was being stocked today with these wonderful comestibles. Plus some other delights off-camera like Welches Grape Jelly. Does this mean that the house expects to run out of food? Or people to cook it. I am not sure that I even have a can opener to gain access to the hash. By the time it comes to cracking a can of corned beef hash I will have a Plan B.
Most of the inmates are hanging onto sanity by sheer will power. But that could change if we get locked in our rooms 24/7. Or if people start dying. Of coronavirus.
I went out for a walk before the edict came down, then I did some yoga. And tossed a few hissy fits about the general state of my world.
On the plus side:
My In Box is empty!
And finally, from my Garden Box “There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember.” – Hamlet, I believe. In Shakespeare’s day, rosemary was tossed on top of coffins.
You know, two weeks ago was normal times. Like early September 2001.
(Towards Plan B – or at least canned corned beef hash avoidance – beef tenderloin was on the boxed dinner menu night. Half of that fine rare beef went into my freezer. As did some bacon from breakfast. And a roll. There you have the makings of an outstanding sandwich. Just add beer.)
Mālama pono