Amigo’s been struggling. His favorite week of the year, the adult camp where he sees his closest friends, has officially been cancelled. His barbershop chorus doesn’t know if they’ll be able to rehearse live, much less sing the National Anthem for the minor league baseball team – if baseball is even going to happen at that level.

One of the chorus members passed away last week. In the pre-Covid world, the guys would have sung “Nearer My God to Thee” or “You’ll Never Walk Alone” at the ceremony. At this time, there will be a small family gathering, but no formal funeral.

Camp was officially called off last night. Barbershop live rehearsals were put on indefinite hold as of today. And then, when Amigo logged in to his Zoom voice lesson, he heard the news first hand from the director: the division contest in October will not go on. This on top of all the rest is heartbreaking.

Did I forget anything? Oh, the pet rabbit is struggling, and she’s getting worse by the day. I can’t tell if it’s old-bunny arthritis in this awful wet weather or if she’s losing control of her legs and should be…let’s not talk about it any more.

Amigo and I pulled together to cope. We invested in a local drive-thru place and indulged in ice cream. He had an Arctic Blast (like a Dairy Queen blizzard) with cookie dough in it. I had a hot fudge sundae. We did without the plastic spoons and used our own at home. Even in the darkest of times, we’ll make it easy being green. Amigo reminded me that it was okay to “drown our sorrows” as long as we remembered moderation in all things.

If only the world of Coronavirus would hand us moderation, too.

Let’s see: shortages. Toilet Paper, hand sanitizer, hand soap, cleaning supplies, and now – meat.

Trouble in the form of Covid19 at meat packing plants hit the world as we knew it, and suddenly people weren’t sure whether to hoard meat or to avoid it. I saw a bunker full of bacon – bacon! – because it carried the Smithfield name.

We felt fortunate yet again. We own two chest freezers: one small, one medium sized. When there’s a sale on meat, we buy extra. Our small freezer is full to the brim at the moment. The medium has some space in it because that’s where I store the vegetables from the farm markets and the backyard garden. At this time of year there isn’t much there aside from the last of the green beans and several containers of soup broth.

Well, that’s not entirely true of the second freezer. That freezer has a corner I call my Prepper Stockpile. I have extra butter sticks, grated cheese, and a few other staples that go on sale often and freeze well. Loaves of bread sometimes, but at the moment I’ve used those up. Hint Brownberry bread, with its doubled plastic wrapping, freezes and thaws very well. Buy it on sale.

Our neighborhood meat market always has their sale items on a sandwich board outside the entrance. Lately, their sign has stated simply, Yes, we’re Open and We Have Meat. I know where to go when my freezer gets low.

Then again, we could turn vegetarian. I made black bean tacos tonight to rave reviews. Readers, are you eating less meat with the news out of the meat packing plants?

Amigo may have his first sunburn of the season. He hung out on the patio swing most of the day, listening to podcasts and audio books and enjoying the breeze. It’s good for him; he doesn’t get out much. Well, none of us get out much, unless it’s the grocery store or the pharmacy.

We’re fortunate to live in a community where it’s possible to enjoy the outdoors and still maintain social distance. We have a backyard – not to be taken for granted, We have neighbors! Neighbors who are willing to wave and say hi and chat while maintaining social distance, which no one should take for granted.

I took advantage of the weather this weekend to dig out a lot of the “walking” green onions. I originally planted them in the hopes of growing a natural border around the garden. The onions would discourage the small (and larger) furry creatures, or so I hoped, eliminating the need for a fence. Ha. Ha. Ha. No such thing. Now I have the standard chicken wire fence, lined with BIG Onions. Last summer I dug up a batch that were SO BIG that they blocked the sun in the way of my tomatoes.

What does a prepper-sort of gardener do with excess onions? Make a soup broth, of course! I used slow cookers to do it Friday, and once again today I filled two crock pots with vegetable scraps (and one with beef bones and beef fat, too). Tomorrow it’s supposed to rain – a perfect time to bring up the pressure canner and store these broths for a, well, another rainy day.

I continue to be surprised at the empty shelves in seemingly random parts of the grocery store. Yesterday it was in the candy aisle. Petunia wanted chocolate chips, and she specified the gold standard: Nestle’s semi-sweet chips. The entire shelf was empty. We did find a good quality brand of true semi-sweet chips, and she was satisfied. But why the empty shelf? And why were the M&M’s vacant? And who, I mean who, hid the last package of tonic behind the ginger ale?!? The joke is on that person, because we found it and bought it.

How does that relate to enjoying the outdoors in these pandemic days? Well, a gin and tonic will ease my acid reflux as I enjoy the backyard and maybe, just maybe, enjoy the breeze.

The first was a toilet paper shortage. We laughed, we joked, but the toilet tissue aisles at the stores were empty.

I checked the Dollar Store. I checked the Office Supply store. I looked at the pharmacy. Fortunately, we weren’t out of TP. We had some left; I was just planning ahead. But why toilet paper? Why did people hoard toilet paper?

The most popular theory is that buying the Charmin gives people a sense of control in the era of uncertainty.

Two weeks ago, we found a huge void on the shelves of (are you ready for this?) sliced cheese. Not just any sliced cheese, but the kind we call IWS – Individually Wrapped Slices. Despite the additional packaging, even the Compostermom likes to keep the IWS cheese around for making grilled cheese sandwiches.

Last weekend the cheese shelves were still nearly empty. We picked up a small package of an organic off brand (yes, there is such a thing as organic and off brand) because Petunia needed some, and that was the only choice. Cheese? Come on, people, this is Wisconsin! There will always be cheese. No need to hoard.

Well, they hoarded toilet tissue right here in the Paper Valley itself, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

The next shortage in our stores was near the dairy aisle, but not from the dairy farms. Orange Juice. OJ. In fact, anything OJ related, like Sunny Delight, was gone or nearly so. What the heck? Did Florida lose a crop? What on earth happened here? So I googled it.

The information I found sort of followed with the TP stretch. According to business sources, people were chugging orange juice and other citrus juices to beef up their immune systems, in the hope that said immune systems would be able to fight off the evil Corona Virus.

Well, I admit, I do increase our vitamin C intake as flu season comes in. But never, ever, have I emptied the store shelves of orange juices.

Maybe I should. Hey, Chuck, did you check the frozen concentrate section?

Readers, what have you hoarded in this Time of Crisis?

subtitle: A Trip to the Post Office, featuring your future friend Grandma Daisy

It should have been simple, children. But nothing was simple in the pandemic of 2020. Not even a trip to the Post Office to mail a few checks to pay bills, bills that kept coming whether people were still working in “essential” jobs or not.

Your grandpa and I packed up the car (okay, we grabbed our stack of envelopes and I grabbed my smart phone to play Pokemon Go on the way. You haven’t heard of Pokemon Go? Well, that’s another story. So we drove the short distance to the Post Office, about a mile. Grandpa Chuck dropped the letters in a mailbox outside, and I headed inside to mail a package. A Care Package of Easter candy, if you must know.

But anyway, the issue of the day was whether to cover one’s face with a surgical style mask or not. There were many who wore them in public, and many who didn’t. Some leaders in the health field said Yes Mask Yourselves and some said No Don’t Bother. Still others said Leave the Masks for the Medical Pros.

We didn’t wear masks that day.

We pulled up to the Post Office and I walked inside to mail my package. I pushed open the door and then scratched my nose – and then thought, Oh, No, What Have I Done?! How Many People Have Pushed This Very-Public Door Handle Today??!!? And Did Any of them Carry the Corona Virus? Heck with the masks, it was still the hands that carried the worst danger. I did my darndest not to touch my face again and to stay six feet away from the others in line.

I bought stamps, too. The Post Office didn’t get helpful funding in the stimulus package, so there was a movement afoot to buy stamps. We figured if enough people bought just one or two books of stamps, the USPS might stay in business. But that’s a side note.

It was about 50-50 for Masks-No Masks inside the Post Office. Clerks were not wearing masks, but they had big plexiglass shields protecting them from breathing the same air as the customers. At least two other folks in line wore masks. The woman six feet in front of me didn’t wear one, and neither did I. When I paid my bill, I noticed the clerk was wearing protective gloves. Heck, no problem. Money is known to carry germs galore on a good day without a pandemic.

I got back to the car and reached into my purse for hand sanitizer. My contact with that door was still freaking me out a little. Poor Chuck had gotten the evil eye from the driver of the car next to us, who was wearing a mask and apparently thought that everyone should. He started the car, I squirted and cleaned my potentially contaminated hands, and away to home we went.

Oh, Pokemon Go? I caught a wild exeggcute. And cute it was. Some day I’ll show you my collection of seasonal Pikachu. Now those little critters would have even looked adorable in a face mask.

At home, snuggled up safely on the couch with my laptop, watching an old Super Bowl with Amigo, the Coronavirus might as well not exist. I know we’re sheltering in place (Safer at Home), but it still feels comfortable and, dare I say, normal.

We’ve had our moments. Check dropped a salt shaker, and you know how that goes – it landed at just the right angle to shatter. And of course it was full. Three days later we finally mopped up the last of the stray salt and tiny fragments. It took several days, but we did get it done. No more worries on the salt front.

It’s all the numbers that make it real. Names of well-known people who have tested positive for Covid19 catch my attention, but it’s the totals. The news programs always have an update of the number infected (confirmed, at least) and the new number of deaths. When they bring up a map showing the spread of the virus, that scares me, too. I realize that we may be safer at home, but the world around me isn’t safe. Not yet.