Saturday, July 11, 2020

Reaching for the new normal


Most of the state I live in has cautiously re-opened.  There are differences though.  It is not a return to what we had before.  I am not sure it ever will be.  For instance my bank is still in person by appointment only.  Most transactions are by ATM or from a remote teller during the day.  They are still not open extended hours and my son has to use the night depository for his paychecks as a result.

My beloved yoga studio is opening for two months only with severely limited numbers in the class and a requirement to wear masks the whole time.  I have thought this over and I can not see me successfully doing yoga with a mask on. So I will revert to my home exercise program with Beachbody.  I can't do yoga successfully without someone really watchng my posture for me.  What feels straight to me is not, because I have scoliosis and am always slightly off kilter as a result. But I can do barre, I can do a lot of strength training, those things I can do without issue here so I have to resign myself to that being my only official exercise.

Today Elisabeth is at a social distance birthday party for a close friend. They are having dinner for 5 girls at a local restaurant. The restaurant has social distancing.  You wear a mask till the food arrives.  The wait staff are masked. The menus are disposable.  After the dinner they are returning to my friends home where they will sit on the patio and watch the present opening and have cake.  Is it perfect?  Probably not.  But I let her go because as worried as I am about Covid (and I do worry) I also worry about my kids emotional well being.  For Elisabeth particularly, the need for some in person socialization is very evident. And if this thing is going to be around for the long haul, my gut feeling is that hiding in our homes is not going to save us.

Today I decided to go raspberry picking.  I have always picked a lot of fruit. When the kids were little I had 2 helping me pick and one strapped on my back and one I dragged along beside me in a car seat type gizmo.  We would do strawberries, raspberries, blueberries peaches and apples.  This year our state did no pick your own strawberries, but they are doing raspberries.  Like everything, this is a familiar experience with unfamiliar guidelines.  We used to ride a wagon down to the fields, the benches filled with laughter and chatter as groups of us became acquainted and talked about our plans for the fruits of our labors.  We'd have cold water in water bottles with us because this is thirsty work and the sun is hot. We would wander through the rows of produce looking for the biggest berries or the juiciest ones.

Now you have to make a reservation to pick (unless you show up super early like I did!) You must wear a mask the whole time you are in the field.  There is a mandatory handwashing station.  You have to walk down to the fields, no more tractors pulling a wagon of eager pickers. And just like the grocery stores, the rows of fruit are one way rows with arrows to show which way to go.


It was definately not as pleasant--picking with no hydration in a mask will never be something that could be called comfortable when it is 85 degrees and humid.  But it felt like at least in some way I was doing something that I was able to do pre-Covid. There was something important about that for me--especially as I keep in contact with my sister in AZ who has the virus and is trying to get healthy.

(note: I actually picked four containers but didn't think to snap a pic until I had the first one flash freezing!)


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