In February, as I was coming out of my winter hibernation, I started going out to dancing venues. The first time it was a cold Saturday, but the Beatles cover band was a good one, and the winery in an old Victorian house was a fun and packed with people looking to dance.
When my two girlfriends and I walked in, we ran into lots of other bears emerging from their winter caves. We danced, we drank, and we laughed. Our table for three ended up with ten people at it, with everyone taking turns to sit or to stand, the corner behind us filled with bags and purses.
Since that day was so much fun, another girlfriend and I went to the same winery near the end of the month. This time the band was outside, where it was cold and windy and not as well attended. Hardly anyone danced. It was so cold that everyone left before the last set.
Another Saturday afternoon Connie and I went to Orinda to hear a musical benefit for the koalas of Australia that had suffered in the fires there. It was almost three hours of talented people singing, playing instruments, dancing the tango, and pitching the silent auction. I bid on a big purple flower painting. I was the only bidder, so I won. At the time, it seemed an extravagant use of $100.
Today I am so glad I bought that painting two months ago. March was spent social distancing. April is looking to be the same. All of my events have been canceled. All of my sister’s doctor appointments have been canceled. I have nowhere to be most days unless I am out of bananas. Even then I have to ask myself, “How badly do I want one?”
My main activity is walking the dogs and sorting through stuff that I haven’t looked at in almost nine years, back when I moved, got divorced and closed my brick and mortar business within a four-month window. I have plenty to do, but every now and then, it helps to take a step back and to remember those carefree Saturdays filled with music and dancing. I dance around my kitchen, but it’s not the same.
Last year my calendar was filled with summer concert dates. This summer I will be lucky if I can get out to hear live music. The irony of not getting Covid 19 means that I will always have to be on the lookout for getting it. Of course getting it now might mean I would die, since I’m older.
Maybe that’s why I feel the need to clean the house, just in case. Don’t laugh. Isn’t that why we put on clean underwear every day? In case we get in an accident? Have you ever gone to the gynecologist with a bad pedicure? Think about it. We do stuff because of others. We want our toes to look good while we are in that compromised position. You men, just try to imagine.
I know, you can’t.
Speaking of which, I’ve missed my dentist appointment AND my gynecologist appointment, two chiropractor massages, lots of aerobics classes and all kinds of thrift-store shopping.
I’ve read so many books and watched so many DVD’s that it would be nice to find something else to do. Quilting? Rock stacking? Fortune telling? Today I listened to a dozen teachers read my books to their students online. It is hilarious to hear them butcher both my last name and the Spanish words in the stories. Almost everyone screws up on guisantes (peas) and reina (queen).
But I digress.
I was going to dye my own hair, but I keep forgetting to buy the hair color kit.
I was going to give up chocolate but . . . no, wait! I was never going to do that.
My daughter’s birthday is next week. I am mailing her toilet paper and granola bars and hoping she’ll send me a link to something she wants online.
Happy this-is-the-new-normal April.