Tuesday, March 17th 2020

Day One, St. Patrick’s Day:

This is the first day of a three week isolation in our home. I can’t remember exactly, but I’m pretty sure I have never had a three week vacation from my job. I’ve had a few two-weekers but not many in my forty-plus years of working. I left my job once to regroup in the early two-thousands, it lasted about six months then I went back to work. In June of two-thousand-five, Erin and I camped the lower forty-eight, for seven months. But taking three-weeks with no notice, and being that it was mandated by our local government was just plain strange.

I woke up Tuesday morning, made coffee, and read the news. This is my morning routine almost everyday. The one thing that seemed to be different was the quietness in the house. I opened the back door and it hit me, it was almost silent outside. I could hear a few birds singing, but the white noise of traffic was non-existent. This was the start of commute-time and there was always some noise even though the freeway was two miles away.

Erin and I went for an hour walk and saw only a few other people. We made a wide berth for anyone near us, and all was good.

Coming back home we went about simple tasks, I cleaned out a closet and Erin knitted.

The rest of the day I spent reading up on the situation and made split-pea soup. I made grilled cheeseburgers with all the fixins for our St. Patty’s Day meal and we watched the movie, Blast from the Past on Amazon. We again did our own things and went to bed…