The 43

I've come to a conclusion today, Day 44, as I sit on the porch this gorgeous evening, a half-hour before sunset, listening to the less-than-six-feet-of-distancing outdoor group gathering thrown by middle-aged neighbors despite all the recommendations that small intimate groups like this spread the coronavirus: The second wave is coming, and it will waste all the progress made over the past six weeks. And it will be the result of Americans of all ages, political persuasions, wealth, and job status being selfish, lazy, weak, bored, and inconvenienced. I'm typing all this out because if it the reopening does go south -- and I'm hoping that I'm wrong but we are six weeks in and the flattening hasn't quite happened yet -- I want to pinpoint when and why. Granted, we've weathered the pandemic better than others, but there is so much evidence that others who are as fortunate as we've been are more thinking of themselves than the greater good. Perhaps the pe

After getting Michael out of the neighborhood Friday , Ben and I went on our own little adventure today. We drove down to Lehi, through Eagle Mountain, up to Tooele, and then to ... West Valley City. I was thinking maybe we could hike a little today, but the skies were alternately ominous and sunny, and Great Salt Lake Park looked a little crowded. So instead, we went to In 'n' Out near Valley Fair, via the efficient and socially distant drive-thru, and ate our lunch in the mall's parking lot as a seagull eyed the RAV4 longingly. The sky was angry at the Pony Express Trail parking lot. I swore I wasn't going to nap after we got home, but the Sunday need to doze overtook me, and I fell asleep a little longer than anticipated (hopefully, it doesn't ruin my sleep routine tonight ...). After a little yardwork, a little writing on the porch, and dinner, Ben and I went for a long walk with the dog. He said he had a good day -- he needed to get away as much as I did,

I've been alternating between optimistic and gloomy all day. On one hand, I think the social distancing is moderately working and that people have mostly adjusted to the new temporary reality. I'm seeing more masks worn, fewer groups that shouldn't be gathering, and a general acceptance of sheltering in place. I think that, despite the bad statistics, people see an end in sight -- even if it's weeks off -- and that we can cautiously endure until then Yet, there's a small but noisy segment who wants the social distancing to end now, a potential spike in deaths and probably even more damage to the economy be damned. I worry that the lockdown measures will be pulled back too soon, there will be another spike in June and we'll be back to sheltering in place, and all the isolation and financial pain that was undertaken to stop the pandemic will be for naught. These are things beyond our family's control. The best we can do is continue to follow the reco

On Day 32 of the lockdown, the hammer fell on the school year. Many other states had called off school for the rest of the spring, but Utah had only shut it down until May 4. We were holding out hope that maybe in-person classes would resume for the last month of the school year, but as the days passed and the pandemic worsened, that seemed less and less likely. Utah's governor made it official for the state's public schools this afternoon, and the diocese followed suit this evening: The kids won't be returning. The news rolled off Michael, but we're having trouble reading Ben. Eighth grade at his school is a big deal, and we don't know what will happen with graduation, the eighth-grade dance, and everything else that makes the end of the kids' journey (and Ben's journey at the Open Classroom began in kindergarten) special. Yet, he seemed to take the news in stride. We've been preparing the boys for this possibility, and I think they might have b

Except for a few years, our Easters in Utah have been a family-only day. In that way Easter 2020 wasn't much different than any other year. Of course, the reality is vastly different -- there's a pandemic in progress, something that has been impossible to not think about. Here on Day 30, I'm becoming more and more convinced there will be a Day 75 and that these posts will overlap my annual summer blog posts. And when things start to normalize, I don't foresee going from social distancing to social butterfly in an instant. The virus is still out there, and until there's a vaccine or it truly fizzles out, I likely will still be wearing a mask and keeping 6 feet away as much as possible. Yet today, the pandemic didn't change a thing. Lori made a delicious Easter meal -- ham, rolls, and broccoli cruton cheese casserole. We watched "Lethal Weapon" and "Onward" (and I also watched "Goldfinger"). Michael and I walked the dog for abo

Day 25. As much as I'm hoping we're halfway through the isolation, I'm realistically thinking we're at a third. Fifty more days puts us at May 28 -- after Memorial Day. That seems far off but really isn't. I'll be happy with somewhere in between. There are signs that the pandemic is slowing in Utah, but I have a weird feeling it's about to spike here and we're being lulled into a false sense of security. I hope I'm wrong, but even a little jump probably closes the schools for the rest of the year and cancels out May. If things go back to normal too soon and the disease comes roaring back here (well, everywhere), we'll go back to sheltering in place into June -- and I don't think people are ready for that. The pandemic is becoming really devastating in other parts of the country. I've resisted looking at websites with confirmed cases and death tolls, but I know today was the worst day nationally, and nothing is suggesting the disease i

We're up to Day 23 (at least by my count here in Utah) since the pandemic and social distancing and, eventually, sheltering in place began. Oddly, last week kind of zoomed by -- I wasn't struggling to the weekend finish line like I had the first two weeks. I'm looking at my week ahead and thinking it will be mellow. Plus, the forecast is for temperatures in the 60s all week. Optimistically, four weeks of this remain, although I'm steeling myself for seven. Sunny skies, warm temperatures, and soon-to-be green trees should make the hiatus more bearable. People are going to need every ounce of optimism, because government officials are beginning to give us the "Hold on to your butts" warning as the pandemic is set to start peaking the next two weeks. We have one more grocery trip to make and can probably go 2-3 weeks without needing to go again. Michael has been a bit stir crazy, but he's enjoyed some reprieves just driving around. However, I didn't