Quarantine week eight, day 50 something

Darcy finished her junior year this weekend, and she and I began a new routine this week. We work out first thing, followed with breakfast and some sunning poolside. Our spring day temperatures, after starting with a hot bang, then cooling off, have steadily risen again, making the pool a necessity, especially for me. My seven-forty alarm has gradually been snoozed toward a wake-up after eight-fifteen, putting my walk closer to nine, where the sun and heat index leaves me drenched. I've started wearing my bathing suit under my clothes, entering through the side yard to just strip and swim. The seventy-eight-degree water temperature is precisely what is needed! 

I added water aerobics to my workout routine, and this morning Darcy joined me. I pulled out my old equipment and thumbed through my materials for a refresher in the deepwater aerobics I once taught. My memory may be faulty, but my body remembers well the moves, my arm muscles letting me know I'd worked them well. Afterward, we stretch, eat, and enjoy quiet time while birds tweet and sing and the small children behind us play outdoors, their giggles and shouts taking me back in time.

Monday, many states relaxed their guidelines, allowing beaches and restaurants to return to twenty-five capacity. Here, many restaurants didn't agree with our Florida governor. They aren't open beyond what they've done thus far, carry-out curbside and delivery. The people, however, have come out of their houses. Traffic was back to normal as Darcy, and I drove for essentials-- a Chick-fil-A lunch and a quick grocery run for the things our online order wasn't able to fill. We dutifully wore our homemade masks supplied by my friend SueG whose mother sewed them for her M.D. son, who, in turn, graciously gave up two of them so Darcy and I would be protected on our essential weekly runs. Many people are still not wearing masks, and while my thoughts delve into a red abyss upon seeing this, I inhale, exhale, and let it go.

I can't help the idiots.

But I do resent them for not protecting the rest of us.

In the grocery today, a maskless man and woman even brought their maskless children, clearly under the age of five, and propped them up in the front of the grocery cart as they wheeled up and down the aisles, mindless to the directional floor signs and stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the six-feet of social distancing, letting the rest of us wait behind them while they argued food items. To many, this pandemic isn't real, and for the rest of us, we will have to continue being patient. 

Oleg wrapped up his college year with his last final today. His internship starts online in a couple of weeks. Madison's school is still two weeks from finishing, so she continues teaching, and there is still no word on whether camp will be a go or not or whether the girls will have summer jobs. None of us dwell on it--practicing our patience. 

Such is our way of life in quarantine.