Day 64----
We witnessed a sliver of the tragedy of someone's life outside our window today. Maybe I'll write more about it later. But it's hard to relive just the witnessing of it. It's also very very important to see the way this virus decimates lives. Especially right now when it's become politicized and republicans seem to think it's a hoax invented by democrats in New York City.
It also is our ninth anniversary today. We walked to the wine shop a block or so away and got some bubbly that we didn't end up drinking. So tired. We had pizza together then bambi asked us to put a record on and dance. And she insisted we dance together and not with her. It was very sweet. Then we fell asleep early while we chatted in the dark.
14.5.20
13.5.20
12.5.20
Day 62----
A very hard day that started with bambi tugging on my holey old night tee as I put the kettle on the stove and saying, "I have a vewy good Idea, mama!!"
"what is it?"
"we make our tea and coffee and take it to the roof for BREAKFAST!"
"oh! that is a good idea! why don't you go ask dad what he thinks!"
She runs to the bedroom and I hear her say, "Dada!!! We can put the tea and coffee in jars and bring it to the roof!" She actually worked out all the details and got the string bag and carried the blanket up in it.
But then there was no nap and it was so so hard and jesse sent me out with a plastic bag ("put it on a bench and sit somewhere") for gin and tonic ingredients. I sat on a rock by the river for a bit but it felt so dangerous. And I didn't want to take my book out cause I didn't know how to sanitize it properly when I got home. So I stole a bluebell from the garden bed behind the rock and walked home.
A very hard day that started with bambi tugging on my holey old night tee as I put the kettle on the stove and saying, "I have a vewy good Idea, mama!!"
"what is it?"
"we make our tea and coffee and take it to the roof for BREAKFAST!"
"oh! that is a good idea! why don't you go ask dad what he thinks!"
She runs to the bedroom and I hear her say, "Dada!!! We can put the tea and coffee in jars and bring it to the roof!" She actually worked out all the details and got the string bag and carried the blanket up in it.
But then there was no nap and it was so so hard and jesse sent me out with a plastic bag ("put it on a bench and sit somewhere") for gin and tonic ingredients. I sat on a rock by the river for a bit but it felt so dangerous. And I didn't want to take my book out cause I didn't know how to sanitize it properly when I got home. So I stole a bluebell from the garden bed behind the rock and walked home.
11.5.20
Day 61----
I love sitting on the toilet reading while my shower warms--whether I actually have to use it or not. I read until the pages curl with steam then I slide the book under the door to safety.
It's a side effect of coming from a large, puritanical family (who also have genetic digestive issues). If I say I'm using the toilet I can read for indefinite amounts of time, fairly guilt free.
making sure she doesn't drown in the bath.
I love sitting on the toilet reading while my shower warms--whether I actually have to use it or not. I read until the pages curl with steam then I slide the book under the door to safety.
It's a side effect of coming from a large, puritanical family (who also have genetic digestive issues). If I say I'm using the toilet I can read for indefinite amounts of time, fairly guilt free.
making sure she doesn't drown in the bath.
10.5.20
Day 60----
Jesse walked to the shop and got us popsicles and we ate them on the roof. The surface of the roof was very warm--hard to believe it had just snowed. Across the way on another rooftop we saw a few kids playing. bambi stood up and called "hi kids!" A little boy stopped what her was doing and waved. She waved back. Then they stood there staring at each other, her popsicle dripping blood like splotches on the silver roof. She looked over at me and whispered, "now what do I say???" --which, just, same, bambi, same. These poor, lonely, New York kids.
mother's day drawings: "a gust of wind" and "a dinosaur with very sharp teeth".
A failed nap
Jesse walked to the shop and got us popsicles and we ate them on the roof. The surface of the roof was very warm--hard to believe it had just snowed. Across the way on another rooftop we saw a few kids playing. bambi stood up and called "hi kids!" A little boy stopped what her was doing and waved. She waved back. Then they stood there staring at each other, her popsicle dripping blood like splotches on the silver roof. She looked over at me and whispered, "now what do I say???" --which, just, same, bambi, same. These poor, lonely, New York kids.
mother's day drawings: "a gust of wind" and "a dinosaur with very sharp teeth".
A failed nap
9.5.20
Day 59----
Today it snowed twice. It's been the coldest May on record since the 70s. When bambi saw the snow she said, " How is this HAPPENING? This snow is so COMPLICATED!!" Yet another installment of our unsprung spring.
I feel very safe in our apartment today. Everything we need for survival crammed in this tiny space perched above the tragic streets. I'm laying in bed reading a fat paperback, my belly full of bread pudding, radiators rattling industriously.
But also there's a beep in the airshaft that's been going on all day and was too loud in her room for bambi to sleep. I laid down on the old flattened sheepskin next to her much too small crib to try and coax her then fell asleep myself while she stared at me. I could hear the beeps all through the miserable sleep--definitely despair sleep. My neck hurt so much and I couldn't feel one arm when I woke up.... one cheek deeply imprinted with sheep fur.
note: around 10pm the fire department arrived en-mass all up and down the block, entered the building next door and a few minutes later re-emerged and the beeping had stopped.
Today it snowed twice. It's been the coldest May on record since the 70s. When bambi saw the snow she said, " How is this HAPPENING? This snow is so COMPLICATED!!" Yet another installment of our unsprung spring.
I feel very safe in our apartment today. Everything we need for survival crammed in this tiny space perched above the tragic streets. I'm laying in bed reading a fat paperback, my belly full of bread pudding, radiators rattling industriously.
But also there's a beep in the airshaft that's been going on all day and was too loud in her room for bambi to sleep. I laid down on the old flattened sheepskin next to her much too small crib to try and coax her then fell asleep myself while she stared at me. I could hear the beeps all through the miserable sleep--definitely despair sleep. My neck hurt so much and I couldn't feel one arm when I woke up.... one cheek deeply imprinted with sheep fur.
note: around 10pm the fire department arrived en-mass all up and down the block, entered the building next door and a few minutes later re-emerged and the beeping had stopped.
8.5.20
Day 58----
An old friend asked me to write a piece on quarantine reading habits for her website. I've been working on it since last week but haven't had the best times to write. So I've been writing paragraphs at random while bambi is facetiming with my parents, in the moments before I start her a movie on this computer, when I step out of the shower-- sometimes just lists of ideas I want to add. So today during a--now rare--nap I actually got a chance to unravel, make coherency of the lists, re-order, rewrite, add all the references and quotes I'd been paraphrasing before. When I was banished from the bedroom for one of jesse's work meetings, I gathered up a several foot high pile of books. "Are you really going to need all of those??? This meeting is only thirty minutes!" I did.
Bambi stirs then resettles. Jesse ends his work call and tip toes past me to make the coffee. I feel justified by my obvious use of all books. I write a few minutes longer, finally happy with the bit about my inland sea I thought I would have to cut. Suddenly bambi calls, "Dada! dada? DADA!" then in alarm, "oh NO!" we both converge on her door to see her standing in her crib, curls all on end, "I slept without my night light!" --in the broad daylight. Though to be fair, we usually leave it on.
"Did I wake you with my noise in the kitchen?" jesse asks.
"No," she replies, "I ended my sleep myself." then after a pause, "Did I sleep?!!!"
As a reward for a nap well napped she gets to watch a little tv and a movie. I walk to the kitchen, pull the big green pot forward on the stove, splash the bottom with oil and let the popcorn kernels dance till they are too crowded to bounce. We share a bowl of it on the couch, dipping each kernel into our glasses of orange juice.
The popcorn gives this tiny little hiss when you dip it in the juice and its so satisfying.
An old friend asked me to write a piece on quarantine reading habits for her website. I've been working on it since last week but haven't had the best times to write. So I've been writing paragraphs at random while bambi is facetiming with my parents, in the moments before I start her a movie on this computer, when I step out of the shower-- sometimes just lists of ideas I want to add. So today during a--now rare--nap I actually got a chance to unravel, make coherency of the lists, re-order, rewrite, add all the references and quotes I'd been paraphrasing before. When I was banished from the bedroom for one of jesse's work meetings, I gathered up a several foot high pile of books. "Are you really going to need all of those??? This meeting is only thirty minutes!" I did.
Bambi stirs then resettles. Jesse ends his work call and tip toes past me to make the coffee. I feel justified by my obvious use of all books. I write a few minutes longer, finally happy with the bit about my inland sea I thought I would have to cut. Suddenly bambi calls, "Dada! dada? DADA!" then in alarm, "oh NO!" we both converge on her door to see her standing in her crib, curls all on end, "I slept without my night light!" --in the broad daylight. Though to be fair, we usually leave it on.
"Did I wake you with my noise in the kitchen?" jesse asks.
"No," she replies, "I ended my sleep myself." then after a pause, "Did I sleep?!!!"
As a reward for a nap well napped she gets to watch a little tv and a movie. I walk to the kitchen, pull the big green pot forward on the stove, splash the bottom with oil and let the popcorn kernels dance till they are too crowded to bounce. We share a bowl of it on the couch, dipping each kernel into our glasses of orange juice.
The popcorn gives this tiny little hiss when you dip it in the juice and its so satisfying.
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