Coronavirus Days--Week 36

In the middle of my morning read, my phone went off with this alert which sent my anxiety level to its severe risk zone, seeing the alarm as just another confirmation of the reality I've been following, the statistics of 1 in 49 with the virus here in Colorado, the statistics of knowing people who currently have Covid. It's bleak these days as the CDC begs people not to travel for the holidays, not to gather outside of their own household, not to add to the statistics of this gloom that has been predicted for quite awhile now. I'm back to long long walks to take the edge off, and today, was no exception since I needed to walk off the body buzz, going five miles, some with Whitman and some just by myself, masked, passing many people also masked, taking things very seriously.

Nan and I are staying put, making careful shopping lists so we can be in and out quickly, procuring enough so that we can go for a couple of weeks without venturing into a supermarket, supplementing with some local food places we've been using since the pandemic began, such as Ruby's Market which has continued its service year round, even with the farmer's market season ending. That means fresh eggs, seasonal produce, some greenhouse grown, and my new fave Sweets & Sourdough. Food is my happy place, and fortunately, that has continued through the pandemic. And with a major food day approaching this Thursday, Nan and I have figured out an approach that works for us.

Up until a few years ago, I might say our Thanksgiving tradition mattered. We would gather with my parents, either at our house or in Tuscon where they snowbirded, sharing a typical overdose of food, letting the smells of turkey and dressing fill the house as we hung out, awaiting the big meal. Several years ago, as my parents aged and stopped heading to Tucson, Nan and I were left without our usual way of celebrating. We gathered here in Denver with her family a few times, but the crowds were too big for us, and we looked for another option, which we though might become our new tradition. Last year we ventured to Mabel Dodge Luhan house in Taos with friends, letting someone else cook while we chatted with lots of fabulous people, sharing food in community. We never imagined that we might not be able to return again this year. 

Since it is just the two of us, along with our house of pet pesterheads, we don't really want a big turkey, nor do we love it enough to have so many leftovers. Many restaurants around town are offering all sorts of options, like nearby Chook with their chicken. Last week, when we had our weekly takeout meal, we discovered we could order some smoked turkey meat from Roaming Buffalo. I'll make a range of delicious sides, so the house will still smell enticing. It will be its own kind of new lovely, and fortunately we don't particularly feel like we are missing out, as many feel who are unable to gather with family. 

And so the days of November slowly edge their way into the darkness of December. These soaring positivity rates, these scary times when we will all know too many people who are/will be infected, are no longer months off, but present. I imagine many days in pajamas and hanging out with these guys who know how to make the best of moments. Cuddle close. Hold loved ones. Breathe and stay safe.