Coronavirus Chronicles: Sniffles and shamrocks

We've had a nice stretch of spring-like weather here in Salt Lake City the past 10 days or so. Things are starting to bloom a little bit. People are getting outside, albeit not near each other. There have been some blustery breezes the past few days, but that comes with March.

All this means allergy season is returning. Unfortunately, I'm allergic to spring, summer, and fall -- and in the time of Covid-19, that can be a little unnerving.

I'm a little sniffly right now, surely because I just was on a long walk, worked outside for a couple hours, and have a dog that rolled around in the need-to-be-raked-one-more-time-after-winter lawn and brought dead vegetation inside. Still, trying not to think the worst isn't easy.

I've checked my temperature (which is low) and blew into a peak flow meter (to measure how much lung power you have, I'm at a normal range for my age) in what can only be described as hypochondriac measures. I also tried not to look at news sites about the crisis, which proved impossible. My work day was OK -- not as productive as I had hoped for, but I think nobody's is because we're all distracted.

That said, Day 4 wasn't as stressful as the last three. I didn't fall asleep right away again last night, but I recognized the insomnia early and got up and read. Lori made corned beef and hash for dinner on this St. Patrick's Day, and then we all played Settlers of Catan, even Michael, whom I sense is getting bored (he replaced a broken doorknob without any prompting today). I walked for an hour with the dog, which felt good.

Forty years ago, I have a specific memory on having St. Patrick's Day off -- probably for a teacher's day and not for an Irish holiday -- and watch the Chicago parade on the new TV we bought the day before. That TV is still in my office, good for only playing Atari on.

I'll be OK if my kids don't remember this St. Patrick's Day ...

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