Viralry: Diary in the time of Virus

We spent two days camping at Lake Waramaug. Off the grid: No cell service. No internet. No news. No worries. We walked in the woods. We played cards and croquet. We watched a baby deer watch us. Some of us canoed while some of us lounged on towels by the lake’s edge, listening to the waves lap at the grass. We ate well: snacks all day, s’mores all night. We talked and laughed by the campfire. We saw the lightning bugs glow through the tent. We slept to the drumming of the rain. We woke up with the birds. I felt like I was transported to a world that made sense. I wish I could have stayed longer.

I wish I could blame it on the pandemic, but my husband and I have been arguing about food for 17 years. ”What’s for dinner” is *the* fight of our marriage. He wants to not be involved at all, with any of it. He wants me to make something and serve it to him. Meanwhile, I’m rarely hungry, and I have this stupid idea that he should tell me what he wants so I can provide it. He says, “Just make what you want!” I say, “I’m not hungry! I don’t want anything! You’re the one who’s hungry!”  He grits his teeth, “Just make whatever!” I shout, “Tell me what you want and I’ll make it!” (For the sake of wordcount I’ve left out about a dozen f-bombs that would have peppered this conversation.) In the marriage-counseling world this fight is known as an impasse. We are both looking for the other person to fix it, and we are both resentful because we believe the other person could fix it if they wanted to, but they’re just being a jerk. Usually, when my husband says, “What’s

I chopped off all my hair. I look like a cross between Rachel Maddow and Elizabeth Warren. My son cut it for me. He did a fine enough job; vanity has never been my jam anyway. I started playing pickleball again, after a 3-month hiatus. It has been a sanity-saver. Several times a week, I get to be safely-social, take out a little aggression, and have a reason to leave my house. It has eaten up a lot of my time though: once I drive to the court, play, drive home, shower, empty my water-bottle and put my gear away, somehow 5 hours have gone by. Then I make a meal, or not, and the day is done. I don’t know if this is good or bad. My son has a girlfriend now and they have had to get creative to see each other. So far, they’ve gone to the beach, the Audubon society and an Aspetuck Land Trust. They hug hello and goodbye, but the rest of the time, they don’t get close. My teenage-years were filled with movies, bowling, ball-games, pizza places, public transportation, malls, baseme