COVID Senior Lockdown, Day 7

It’s Sunday. We have not been out of the house since Thursday, when I went to the local garage to get a flat fixed and the missus went to the vet and stocked us up on chicken and fruit on the way back. She recalls that the local drug store had a sign that said: “No wipes or TP. Next delivery 3/31.” Not sure everyone can hold it that long.

Quarantine can be tough, no doubt. We are sympathetic. But we all find our own way.

Mrs. F has been talking to the cats more. Extended conversations. They respond, but none of them have seen Bohemian Rhapsody yet, so they have no opinion about Rami Malek’s performance. She’s staying aerobically fit by picking up cat tumbleweeds by hand and trundling up and down the stairs doing laundry and sorting old tax records. She is multitalented.

Today, I went through the wire box. You know the wire box. That box in the closet/basement/bathroom where you throw old computer cords, cell phone chargers, printer cables, and things you can’t identify. It was fascinating. I had a dozen DB-15 male-to-male cables. I forget what they were good for, but they must have been essential at some point before USB and HDMI. Got rid of them. Kept the things I can’t identify. You never know.

Mrs. F and her text friends have been sharing three-ingredient recipes. What we really need are three-ingredient cocktails. She’s been working on it. Says a Boulevardier looks good. I think we may even have Campari. Maybe tonight.

Haven’t heard from Melissa from Microsoft. Maybe she gets the weekend off. Or my account has been saved.

Have you ever noticed just how many paper clips you have?

Hmmm. We may be getting bored.