If we need to distance ourselves from one another physically (for physical safety), I'd love if we could find new ways to be close.
The girlettes volunteered:
Mz called last night:
she's come down with something and was worried--not surprisingly, since fear is the most contagious virus.
I said I'd come over with a thermometer and tea. Penny Cooper said she wanted to go stay with Mz. (She may or may not have read this month's Smithsonian article about Florence Nightingale...)
We stood outside the door while Mz took her temperature. Normal!
Girl has a cold.
I handed over Penny Cooper and the two bags of groceries I'd brought.
Including a bunch of Protea--
they look like virus-flowers from outerspace, you know
(I suppose most lifeforms share a lot of qualities with viruses),
and a bunch of other things, including a roast chicken.
I got the absolutely last chicken at the store.
"We usually sell 70," the deli-worker said. "Today we sold 140. I guess people don't want to go out to dinner."
I had to buy the $11 bag of brown rice (each grain hand-polished?) because the shelf of regular rice was empty.
I turned to a shopper nearby and said, "Is there something about rice?"
"It last a long time," he said. Like, where have I been.
First I was enraged.
I was raging to a friend, Where's the emergency response to the dangers I see every day at the store? People sleeping outside in winter...
And then I felt sad.
We don't trust that if we need a roast chicken, someone will share theirs. And we're likely correct, if everyone else is in fear.
So we have to buy up all the roast chickens (t.p., rice, whatever) for ourselves.
This is going to be an episode of Hidden Brain any minute now, no doubt--about the entirely predictable responses to a crisis.
I resent the way leaders are letting the amygdala run the show.
Lying in bed last night, I was wondering how can I shift this fear-reaction, at least for myself?
And the girlettes piped up, "We can help!"
So, if you live nearby and need a friendly little companion, I could drop a girlette off, and if you're far away, they can travel by mail too! Just let me know.
I must say, as I wrote on FB, they're useless at housework, but they are surprisingly good companions.
It's nice being at work--my coworkers have a range of responses, but just now Mr Linens said to me,
The girlettes volunteered:
Mz called last night:
she's come down with something and was worried--not surprisingly, since fear is the most contagious virus.
I said I'd come over with a thermometer and tea. Penny Cooper said she wanted to go stay with Mz. (She may or may not have read this month's Smithsonian article about Florence Nightingale...)
We stood outside the door while Mz took her temperature. Normal!
Girl has a cold.
I handed over Penny Cooper and the two bags of groceries I'd brought.
Including a bunch of Protea--
they look like virus-flowers from outerspace, you know
(I suppose most lifeforms share a lot of qualities with viruses),
and a bunch of other things, including a roast chicken.
I got the absolutely last chicken at the store.
"We usually sell 70," the deli-worker said. "Today we sold 140. I guess people don't want to go out to dinner."
I had to buy the $11 bag of brown rice (each grain hand-polished?) because the shelf of regular rice was empty.
I turned to a shopper nearby and said, "Is there something about rice?"
"It last a long time," he said. Like, where have I been.
First I was enraged.
I was raging to a friend, Where's the emergency response to the dangers I see every day at the store? People sleeping outside in winter...
And then I felt sad.
We don't trust that if we need a roast chicken, someone will share theirs. And we're likely correct, if everyone else is in fear.
So we have to buy up all the roast chickens (t.p., rice, whatever) for ourselves.
This is going to be an episode of Hidden Brain any minute now, no doubt--about the entirely predictable responses to a crisis.
I resent the way leaders are letting the amygdala run the show.
Lying in bed last night, I was wondering how can I shift this fear-reaction, at least for myself?
And the girlettes piped up, "We can help!"
So, if you live nearby and need a friendly little companion, I could drop a girlette off, and if you're far away, they can travel by mail too! Just let me know.
I must say, as I wrote on FB, they're useless at housework, but they are surprisingly good companions.
It's nice being at work--my coworkers have a range of responses, but just now Mr Linens said to me,
"This is a message from God: Who wins a sports game doesn't matter. Your big TV and your Cadillac don't matter.
What matters is your friendships and your love-ships."I am good with that.
I won't ask you to mail a girlette to London, but I love the fact that you've offered. I kind of feel like they're here anyway, since I see and read about them so often. They always boost my mood! :)
ReplyDeleteBrave girls to be willing to set out into the unknown.
ReplyDeleteI’m glad Marz is okay and has good supplies. We bought a package of paper towels on Thursday, just because we were out of paper towels. Yesterday the aisle of paper towels and toilet paper was empty, absolutely empty, and people were shopping like maniacs.
What a lovely offer! I'll decline, don't want the responsibility of looking after one, or worrying about her traveling, but will treasure glimpses of them on your blog--they do lift the spirits amazingly! Such cheerful equanimity, blended with lively curiosity--
ReplyDeleteStay well!
Sally
Yes, I would love to host the girlettes but would want to take them to see the monuments in DC and the cherry trees but will wait until things are better!
ReplyDeleteHow nice of you to take Marz sick supplies! Quite frankly I have never had any friends do that, now that I think about it. Hmmm, what does that say about me or my friends!!
Love-ships will now be part of my vocabulary thanks to Mr Linens.
Kirsten
STEVE: The girlettes are so happy to hear that they boost your mood!
ReplyDeleteThey are with you, Dave, and Olga in spirit.
Maybe not so much with Olga. She might mistake them for a Kong!
MICHAEL: They are brave, plucky girlettes!
Yes, the shopping fear-frenzy makes me mad and sad.
SALLY: It cracks me up to read it, but you are right--the girlettes ARE a handful to care for!!!
They like the way you describe them and send their virtual cheer.
KIRSTEN: WHen do the cherries blossom??? SweePo has a new dress with a pink tulle dress and she is sooooo eager to wear it for cherry viewing!!!
Interesting--now I'm wondering how many people have given or received groceries during sickness. Perhaps it's not usual in modern America. I suppose lots of people live with other people and don't need it, but it's a nice thing to do/get.
"Love-ships" is such a nice word to me too.