Sheltering in Place – Day 74

Happiness. So Let’s talk kitty litter. I’ve been nervous about going to the pet store. Sheltering in place, doncha know. So lately, I have been buying my litter online. Much more expensive, especially the green tea litter I like. Let me be clear about this. Ellie doesn’t seem to care. Just keep it coming and keep it clean. But I like the scentless, lightweight, and easy to get rid of litter. It makes me happy. So a couple of times I paid the exorbitant price to get what I wanted. However, when hubby and I were at Target early one morning I lost my mind and decided to try another litter, The brand will remain nameless. Terrible stuff. It doesn’t get rid of the smell. It weighed so much, we practically needed a Uhaul to get it home. Sand and clay weigh even more when you add – ahem – tinkle.  Also when wet, it adheres to the bottom of the litter pan like glue. It is rendered an immovable object. I know this because a couple of days ago I strained a muscle in my arm trying to remove it. So bad, in fact, I couldn’t lift anything heavier than the olive for my martini. My only excuse is, it was early morning, I hadn’t had my coffee yet, and I was used to the other litter. But then I had a wounded wing on top of a smelly, disgusting litter pan. Hubby to the rescue. Mask in place and gloves on hands, he went to the pet store, bought my wonderful litter, removed the ghastly sand and clay, and brought it to the trash. Even wounded, I was able to put in the green tea litter in the pan. I am happy, hubby is happy, Ellie is happy.…

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Sheltering in Place – Day 70

Mail call is a pretty organized thing around our house these days. And I have not earned the name Decontaminatrix for nothing. Always on the lookout for cross-contamination, how to deal with the mail was initially tricky. But I devised a plan. Playing on the good cop/bad cop routine, one of us is the Dirty Person. That’s the person who picks up the mail that has been dropped through the slot. Dirty Person, usually hubby, takes the mail to a corner of our dining room table where all the dirty mail is placed. Dirty Person picks up a pair of scissors, which are now designated as dirty. Dirty Person (let’s just call him DP from now on)  picks up one piece of mail. Clean person, usually me, is standing by barking orders. I will simply be CP from now on. DP cuts the very tippy end of the envelope off, careful not to cut what’s inside. That’s why CP barks, to make sure nothing gets sliced in half. Then DP presses the envelop together so it opens up. CP, careful not to touch the outside of the envelope, pulls out the contents with her fingernails and sets the contents down on the other side of the table. The process is repeated until all the mail is opened. Dirty Person throws the envelopes away and washes his hands. Clean person disinfects the table, scissors, doorknob, light switch, and the cat, for good measure. Both DP and CP sit down and leisurely read the mail. But, of course, it usually doesn’t go as smoothly as that. Often parts of the contents are glued to the inside of the envelope or stuffed inside in such a manner as to not be joggled free. That’s when the yelling begins. DP starts ripping at the…

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Sheltering in Place – Day 63

I have come to the conclusion that I hermit well. Especially as I like cats. I may have trouble with the beard, though. I think most writers hermit well. That may be an overgeneralization. But I am the queen of that, so I will continue. Writers spend so much time living in the mind, traveling in the mind, creating in the mind, feeling in the mind, that the outside world becomes a secondary place for us. Anyway, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Don’t get me wrong, I love the world. Really, I do. But what I am is a person who can live very well in a teeny-tiny world of my own making. Essentially, this self-quarantining hasn’t made much of a difference to me. Other than the fact I am hysterical every waking moment about catching COVID 19 and tend to decontaminate anything that doesn’t move, nothing has changed much for me. I get up in the morning and stagger to my computer. Hubby makes me a cup of coffee. The heart starts beating again. I begin putting words into the computer while looking at a screen. And I continue doing that until my back screams out for mercy. Or until Ellie wakes up and decides it’s time for her breakfast. You can set your clock by a cat wanting her breakfast. Hubby is very good at making his own breakfast. This morning he made some for me, as well. Scrambled eggs and turkey bacon on toast. He’s a keeper. So then I go back to the computer for more writing. Lunch rolls around. I make something easy. Often I feed my man, too, but only if it’s easy. Then once more to the computer. I continue to write. I answer a bajillion emails. I interact with…

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Sheltering in Place – Day 58

I have decided to keep hubby. Don’t try to talk me out of it, because my decision is final. It’s not every day I feel that way. There are times when he leaves the milk out on the counter instead of putting it back in the fridge. Some days the walls shake when he plays his music at 10 decibels, wailing at the top of his lungs right along with it. Last night he left the lid up on the Clorox Disinfectant Wipes – you know, those things that are worth their weight in gold –  so by the time I found them this morning the wipes were completely dried out. And speaking of lids, he never puts the seat down on the you-know-what in the bathroom. This is a huge source of annoyance to me because I am constantly dropping something in that big hole filled with water in the middle of the bathroom. Retrieving a tube of lipstick from down there is no joy, believe me. But frankly, hubby has his winner days. Many. And today was one of them. For the last three days either the olive trees are pollinating, the moon is in the seventh house, or something something, but my allergies have been at their worst. I have been miserable and unable to cope. My head aches. my nose is stuffed up. I feel like there’s a tight band running across my forehead. My throat is scratchy. If I move fast, I  become dizzy. And when I talk it feels like I’m underwater. Have I mentioned I am miserable? If not, please let me do so now. I am MISERABLE! Anyway, this darling man to whom I am married has been taking care of me. Today he made dinner. Yes, tuna salad and a green…

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