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.