Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Week three

We are headed into week three of quarantine. Death tolls and confirmed cases mount. Every morning the first thing I look at is worldwide cases, then US, then New York, then California. Talk the last couple of days is that this thing is more airborne than we thought, and everyone should wear masks outside. I don’t have any fabric. Can I knit one? My guess is no. 

I only go outside to do my daily hike up to the boys’ school and back. It’s about three miles and steep uphill going one way, which means it’s way better than my old Rose Bowl loop (now closed) and, because it’s just a neighborhood and not a trail, doesn’t have very many people out and about. Every time I pass the school I look at it with longing and wonder if the kids will go there before the fall. My guess is no. LAUSD says end of April; I think when end of April comes they’ll push that to end of school year. 

The teachers have set up a labyrinthine online system - the 2nd grade teacher has five different sites I have to log into, all with different user names and passwords, plus a main google account that contains even more projects and work due over the next month. Theo has several sites he’s supposed to log into, too, and it’s completely convoluted and overwhelming. The parents are rioting and the teachers are defensively pushing back. It’s a mess. I’m over here just trying to do the basics - get Theo reading and doing his rainbow words; get Bobby doing some math and reading and writing, still probably only about 30-60% of what their teachers seem to expect from them. It sucks. Every day sucks.

Today I applied for a $10,000 grant from the SBA. I’m not sure of the terms - it’s all very confusing - but the application was easy and I’ll just sit and wait. Right now I’ll take anything I can get. I’ll put that and my tax refund into a separate account on the chance that I have to live off of it. I still have no idea what’s going to happen with my event. All our June engagements as a band have canceled. It’s starting to get too close for comfort. 

Here is a little moment of zen from my daily hike. There are a few small trails peeling off of the main road. I wish my insides were as calm as this. 




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