The day began with a yummy breakfast and ended with delicious curries. I'm not bragging; ask my wife (she is the only witness).
In between was the shopping trip.
I really was not looking forward to this, and as a result of that and of being busy schlepping back and forth to the hospital and spending the days there - the list was record long. I did not hoard, but there was lots we needed, and I definitely didn't want to go back in a couple of days. The supermarket was pretty well attended, despite strict limitations on the number of people allowed inside at one time. The checkout people and security all wore masks and gloves. People were generally careful to keep the anti-social distance of 2 metres (6 feet). Most of the shelves were well stocked, the exceptions I noticed being pasta and bread. And shrimp, I had to buy those frozen. Many items previously unwrapped were now pre-packaged, but the produce was pretty normal.
When you get everything home, you have 2 options: risk the horrible virus, or follow the advice of the now virally-famous Grand Rapids MD. Dr. Jeffrey is a bit OCD for me, so I chose option 3: caution within reason. Some of us don't have a garage to leave stuff in. Soap and warm water kills the damn virus, you don't have to spray everything with antiseptic cleaner. Which is the other thing the store was out of. It was still a major pain in the butt, and my wife thought just that part of it looked overwhelming. Stuff that was packaged in cardboard was set aside; that should be safe now (a day later), according to the Yankee doctor.
The most surreal part of my day was the supermarket line (see attached). (Events may not have occurred in the order described here. I read a lot of Latin American novels.) The line stretched out the door, everyone politely spaced 2m apart. The photo above was taken in the parking garage; at the end of what you can see there is the store entrance. This goes up a long winding ramp to get into the actual supermarket. So what looks like the end of the line in the photo is just the beginning.
People in their portable bubbles hung out on their phones; mine loses its charge quickly and it contained my lengthy shopping list, so I didn't really have that luxury. There is red tape every 2 metres so you'll know where to stand. I paced within my little 6' square. No one else paced, but I find my legs and back stiffen up if I just stand still for a long time. Like, say, an hour. That's about how long it took. There were announcements: follow the rules, keep everyone safe, let essential services workers in ahead of you. They were allowed to cut in line, which here is called "jumping queue". Some people wore masks. Most did not chat with anyone. When you got to the top, there was a rather serious-looking, masked security guy pointing to you and to where you were to stand; no more red tape. I am not sure if that's a pun; at any rate, it's not an intentional one. They wiped down your shopping cart ("trolley") handle before issuing you a cart. Once you passed the finish (or start) line, you were free to shop. Whew!
In the queue your main activity, if you're not on your phone, is watching people come out. And sometimes this raises questions, which may never be answered. For instance, why, after 15 or 20 people came out, did the line still not advance? This was the part where I stood for something like half an hour in the same spot, except for the pacing. Other people's groceries became interesting. Some people actually came out bare-handed (though some of them were, to be clear, wearing gloves). Why would you stand in line for an hour and then come out without buying anything? Was it a shorter line when they got there? Were they only interested in bread and pasta? Is supermarket spectating our new trending activity? Then there was the lady who came out with her cart filled with only cat litter and beer. It's just a spectator's observation; I'm all out of questions.
Spectating aside, I really don't want to go back any time soon. I'm sure we have stuff in the back of the pantry that's past its use-by date that's still edible. There were still a few items I could not get at the supermarket. Today (and I realize this is skipping ahead to day 3; please refer back to the part about Latin America) I went to the organic shop. There was no line. No security. No red tape. Just be polite and keep your distance; it's the Midwestern way; I grew up with it. I spent lots of money but only had to clean a few things. It's a reasonable tradeoff.
But I don't want to end on that note. Remember the delicious curry dinner? There's still plenty of that in the fridge. But that would be skipping ahead to days 4 and possibly even 5.
About me: I am an American living in Aotearoa/New Zealand, for which at this time I am very grateful. But I miss Home and I worry about my People. All of my people back home.
About your comments: I welcome them, but I do ask that you be kind and respectful. Not just of me, but of everyone you are commenting on. Please, no insults or name-calling of me or those commenting, or even of other bloggers.