Day 327…
As I was setting the table for dinner last night, I couldn’t believe that I was already setting the table for dinner. Again.
What happened to the day?
This feeling of being trapped in an endless repetitive loop comes in what, I now see, is, in itself, a repetitive cycle. I’ll feel stuck one day, then be fine for a week or two and then I’ll feel stuck again. Something that I put off until tomorrow, can sit around for a week before I get to it and yet it feels like, when I do, that I had just set it aside the day before.
There are some days when I feel like there are things that I can point to that I’ve accomplished. Then there are others where I find myself setting the table - the beginning of the finale of the day’s ride - and I don’t seem to have a single thing to point to that I’ve done.
Groundhog Day isn’t until tomorrow. It’s hitting me a day early.
Today’s iteration of the schedule has potentially been somewhat thrown off by a massive snowstorm. It started last night. When I went to sleep, there was some accumulation in protected areas around our building, but the streets were still clear.
I expected to wake up to a few inches of snow in an otherwise clear day, but instead, it’s a full-out storm. It’s meant to continue all day and into tomorrow.
It is really coming down. The weather forecast says we could see it fall at rates of as much as 2 inches an hour before it stops. Looking out, this morning, I believe it. Usually flakes of snow flutter somewhat slowly down to the ground. This morning the snow is dropping like it’s rain. Gusts of wind blow them around for a moment but then it just dumps.
I do love mornings like this. It’s dark. Michael was prepping bread to bake last night and was up at all hours, so he is still asleep. When I woke up and got out of bed, the cat looked at me for a moment but then curled up tighter against him. Clearly, neither of them is going anywhere anytime soon.
There’s no traffic noise or sirens outside because the streets are largely impassable.
The guy across the way from us whom we used to see out on his balcony during the 7pm noise-making for our health care workers, has, in recent weeks, been practicing his bongos. He does it inside his apartment but even so, the sound makes its way to us. Both of us tend to keep our windows cracked to let the temperature inside balance so we can hear him.
All in all, I don’t really mind it. He’s not untalented. The sound is distant and varied enough that it becomes part of the overall soundscape rather than dominating it. It doesn’t feel like Little Ricky playing the same rhythm over and over again driving everyone insane on the I Love Lucy TV show.
Nobody’s windows are open this morning. There’s already a good couple of inches of snow built up against the ones in the living room. It’s cold enough outside and there are enough little cracks for the cold to get in and the heat to get out that the temperature in here is just fine. Michael won’t think so, but for me it’s perfect. If the guy’s playing his bongos, I can’t hear them.
As I was walking yesterday, I suddenly came across a small crowd loosely gathered in front of a storefront window across Broadway from Lincoln Center. Inside, two musicians, one on the piano and the other with a viola, were playing a duet.
They are part of a series called Musical Storefronts presented by Kaufman Music Center. I know that because, instead of a program, it was written right on the glass.
They were wonderful. At the end of their piece, we all clapped. It was a bit muffled because we were wearing gloves and mittens, but it was heartfelt, nonetheless. I wonder if they could hear it on the other side of the window.
When I got to Times Square, a trio was singing and playing in front of the statue of George M. Cohan. I listened for a while. They sounded pretty good, but they were a bit too Jesus-y for me, so I continued on. Scattered people stayed to listen while others just passed them by.
Our bongo-playing neighbor aside, live music is a rare commodity these days. Every so often there will be a small group performing at an outdoor restaurant, but as it’s gotten colder, however, that’s become much more infrequent. I didn’t realize how much I miss it.
I never would have imagined that a time would come when we would all willingly sit outside at a restaurant in the dead of winter and eat a meal with our coats on and be happy about it. Even during this past week when the temperatures were routinely below freezing, there were people outside chatting and enjoying a meal.
Huddling around a central heat lamp seems to be an accepted part of our lives now. Our prehistoric ancestors did much the same thing around their campfires for millions of years, so why shouldn’t we?
The virus numbers don’t even really register anymore. Over 95,000 people died from it last month alone, making January the most lethal month yet. According to CNN, 43 people have passed away just this morning so far today.
It has just been announced that an over-the-counter home COVID test has been developed. It is reportedly 95% effective and you can get the results within 15 minutes. If they can create enough of a supply of it then people who haven’t been willing to stand in line at a testing center may be willing to test themselves at home.
The number of COVID deaths so far today has just been updated by CNN to 85.
The President’s lawyers all quit this weekend. He has apparently now found two more. The guy from the insurrection in the war paint and horns seems to be desperate to testify against anything and anyone that will save his hide.
Planning for the second impeachment trial which starts a week from today continues in full force while the politicking around President Biden’s proposed stimulus plan swirls around on its own.
There seems to have been a military coup in Myanmar. Nobel laureate Aung San Suu Kyi has been taken into custody.
As the world spins forward, the snow keeps falling. On days like this, it is easy to feel that all of “that” is happening in a nebulous “out there” place. In here, in the warm, as we get more and more snowed in, all of it seems a bit unreal. It even vanishes when the TV is turned off.
On 97th outside our windows, I can see a U-Haul truck stuck in the middle of the street. Its back wheels are spinning on the ice and it’s going nowhere. What a day to move. Someone walking by has started to try to help by pushing against the back of the truck. It seems a bit hopeless.
We are now up to 182 people who have died.
I will go out today, but I can’t say that I am looking forward to it. I’m probably not going to get very far.
In the few minutes it took me to write the last couple of paragraphs, the U-Haul has disappeared. Clearly it got unstuck. It didn’t need me watching it to move forward and neither does the news.
The snow is still coming down like crazy. I can barely see across the street.
It’s time to set the table for breakfast. Again.
Michael’s up and the cat is on the lookout for a new warm spot. After some puttering, they will both end up in the kitchen - Michael at the stove and the cat on the warm spot on the floor where the hot water pipe is.
I wonder what Michael’s going to cook for us?
I’m looking forward to finding out.
On 96th it’s been snowing sideways for hours. Cars have huge piles atop and are getting hidden from view altogether. I just got a negative test result for covid ! Haven’t been feeling well for a few days so got tested on Friday. Whew! Be careful if you do go out in the blizzard 🥶
💕❤️and only you would discover musicians in the snow 💫❄️