Suddenly there’s no traffic. We’ve never heard so many birds. We could get used to this.
It’s getting old, blogging about sheltering in place. But we’ve got it easy — for far too many Americans, the shutdown isn’t merely old, it’s a financial disaster.
Maybe we should come up with a standardized personal space reminder phrase, something along the lines of “Distance, please.” You know, like skiers and bicyclists with their “On your left,” like the French with their “bonjours,” like that one friend we all have with his “You gonna eat those fries?”
Broke my stay-indoors-and-out-of-the-sun quarantine yesterday with a motorcycle ride up Mount Lemmon and back. It felt good!