I have read some terrific articles on living in lockdown. This is not one of them. This is merely a list of little things I’ve learned which may or may not resonate with you (one of the dumbest expressions ever is, “We’re all in the same boat”; some of our boats are a whole lot rockier than others).
The following are ways my life has changed in the moments between frantic hand washing, mask wearing, social distancing, and not touching anything by my dog Dotty who has, quite frankly, had it up to here with togetherness:
Shower less. I was unaware how much my shower routine had to do with going out rather than staying in. I simply don’t do it as often now. Maybe I’m gamey, but if nobody’s around, does it matter (think about that tree falling in the forest)? Unless I need to scrape moss off my hull or corral nomadic things in my hair, what’s the point? Half as many showers means I’m saving on shampoo. And my skin feels better than it has in years what with a little of my own body oil mixed in with the Aveeda.
Cut nails. I have nice, polite fingernails, easy to maintain. But I’ve now cut them short. It makes all this hand washing (and wringing) so much easier when you don’t have to dig around under talons to keep them clean.
Snack poorly. Indulge yourself just a little. Buy a food that thrilled you as a child but threw your mother into histrionic lecture mode. For you, maybe it will be a box of Mike and Ikes. Or Raisinets if you were a truly geeky kid. For me it was Bugles in a bag large enough to use as a pillow. If it doesn’t bring on a coronary, it’ll bring on a whole raft of good memories.
Don’t dust. It turns out dust is a terrific medical alert system. If a shelf is dusty, human hands have not touched it. No Covid-19. See? Dust as a deterrent (I do not recommend this technique for you allergy sufferers).
Call a friend. I do it every day. It’s good for her or him. It’s good for me. We laugh if we can. We remember together.
Look out. We live in one of the most beautiful parts of America. Look at it. Go for a drive, stay in the car, and just look at it. That’s America the Beautiful out there. It can soothe your soul in a way no city dweller or Nebraskan can enjoy. Don’t waste such a gift.
Linda B. Myers is a founding member of Olympic Peninsula Authors and author of FOG COAST RUNAWAY, historical fiction available on Amazon.com or at local retailers. Contact her at