Swing In A Tree: 2020-03-29

Friday, April 3, 2020

“Stay the Fuck Home!”

My brother, a custodial worker at a hospital, falls into the “essential worker” category. He earns less than a livable wage. He reports to work during natural disasters almost annually as he lives in the Houston area. He will continue to work through the COVID-19 epidemic until he gets sick. I worry that he may die if that happens.

My nephew works at one of Texas’s largest grocery chains, HEB. His salary, also, doesn’t come anywhere what it should for him to report for work during an epidemic of this scope. Of course, he’s there extra hours so the rest of us can have the supplies we need to stay home. That means he’s exposed through every person who walks into the store.

Every one of us has friends or family members who continue to work because of their essential occupations. For me, it’s important to give these people as much of an edge as possible. If they must be exposed to carriers of COVID-19, let it be in as controlled and limited way as possible.

If you follow directives and stay home, you limit your contracts to only a few people on a daily basis. If you are the designated shopper, restricting the people you see means that you help limit the number of contacts my family members come into contact with, too.

If you have a governor that’s not issuing sensible and safe guidelines that don’t have an economic drive (like suggesting our elderly should be willing to die to keep the economy going for this next generation), look to the states harder hit by COVID-19 and follow those guidelines.

If you have a mercenary minister who continues to push you into church services, find another church. For years many of my religious friends have claimed that their beliefs aren’t attached to a building—that they can pray and worship at any place and time. Now’s the time to prove it!

Stay safe for your family and stay safe for mine.

Thursday, April 2, 2020

"My New Normal"

Sheltering through this biological storm shifts our days into an unexpectedly slower pace. My husband, who works remotely, sets the alarm for 6:30 to give him time to shuffle into the kitchen for a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and to check his email. He commented yesterday that he probably needs to nudge the alarm to an even later start. Always an early riser, last week I allowed myself to sleep until nine-ish before setting my daily agenda, which consisted of reading and yard work followed by a movie or a couple episodes of a random TV show. Because I felt this sluggish start set the tone of my day too move too slowly, this week I’m matching my husband’s hours.

Live Oak leaves abound!

Yard work keeps me busy

My husband’s company put employees onto remote work on March 12^th. As my spring break drew to an end, I decided not to return to work. My Facebook feed displayed vacationing friends, and as I’d been following COVID-19 and its progress since the beginning of January, I knew returning to work as a substitute teacher after co-workers and students had traveled throughout the US was stupid. The minimum wage pay wouldn’t come near to covering any medical expenses of a prolonged ICU stay. Of course, the school district decided to extend the break for another week. That turned into several more weeks closed. Finally, our governor declared the schools cannot open prior to May 4^th.

As I have worked at some kind of job since I was 16, this unanticipated break forces me to reassess why I work so many days. Originally, grief drove me to fill my days while some financial draws added to my need to work. However, my part-time work morphed into working five days a week and lasted for seven years! Then this past fall, several friends battled severe illnesses. One died unexpectedly. A bout of bronchitis impaled me onto my bed for a couple of weeks with a lingering cough and some fatigue that pushed me to cut back my work days to part-time instead of a full five day week.

Maybe Life wants me to finally retire.