March 15, 2020. We were having a socially distant dinner at close friends. An annual winter event of mac and cheese usually followed by watching a Masterpiece Theater episode. This year, nothing suitable was on, so we watched a movie on a DVD. COVID-19 was already surging in parts of the West Coast and we learned that a biotech company meeting on Boston’s waterfront turned into a super-spreader event (we barely knew that term). St. Patrick’s Day loomed, a raucous time in the Boston area. With an eye on the ever-increasing numbers, an alert came through on our phones that evening: Governor Baker would shut everything down, imposing a state-wide lockdown at noon on Tuesday, March 17, forestalling big barroom carouses. That was the last time we ate indoors anywhere but our own home, to this day.

We were waiting for this since the governor had imposed an emergency order on the state five days earlier, so I had already laid in a supply of food and paper goods. People tease me. I don’t really cook much, so how did we survive? We continued to bring in take-out from the restaurants that remained open. We adapted to their schedules, even if we had to plan hours ahead. We washed our hands thoroughly after the food came home. I never did Instacart, nor did I wash the food containers. I threw those out immediately. It took us a while to secure masks. A friend dropped off a few good ones, a high school friend back home advertised on Facebook and made a few for me. I really liked those. Eventually supplies eased up and we were able to secure hand sanitizer (I like the spray stuff that I bought from a cosmetics site), plastic gloves, masks. Just a few weeks ago, with the variants emerging and new masking recommendations, we got N95 masks. We still don’t go out much. My trips to the grocery store are very quick.

By March 23, my favorite instructor from my regular gym showed up on Zoom. Josie Gardiner had retreated from her Boston condo to her larger summer home on the North Shore and was working out of a studio owned by PJ O’Clair, a renowned trainer north of Boston. Both are phenomenal trainers/instructors (legends, really) who have kept me sane during these stressful times. I know what day of the week it is because I know what class of theirs I’m taking. PJ runs the show, has improved the technology, is always trying to offer more. She now offers an entire streaming platform (video on demand) so you can take classes anytime you desire (PJ Online). Five days a week, I push aside my ottoman and my den becomes my gym, in front of the computer.

On Martha’s Vineyard, I work in my bedroom, in front of my iPad, though once lockdown was lifted, I did take classes under a tent set up on the lawn in front of our club and went into the socially-distanced gym a few times a week for a ride on the recumbent bike, wiping it down before and after each ride, and always wearing a mask, in addition to Josie’s Core class. Can you see me in the photo below? Wonderful Emily Phillips, in the center, is the teacher of that class. We adore her too. I am behind and to her right; the lady in black. We provide our own mats and don’t use props. Four doors across the room are open for great ventilation and we don’t breathe hard in this class. It had turned chilly by late September and the tent was gone.

A highlight of the spring and early days of COVID was being able to attend Passover Seder with my brother, sister-in-law and other members of our family, who are far-flung. I wrote about that in Behold It Is the Springtime of the Year. No need to dwell on it here, beyond a simple graphic reminder.

Life on Martha’s Vineyard was different than other summers, but still, a relief from the tedium of Newton. Every public event was canceled. Dan played a ton of golf. He enjoyed being outside and got involved with a few steady groups, staying late after each round just to visit with friends. As I mentioned in earlier pandemic discussions, we renovated our patio to include a propane-driven fire table and enjoyed having friends to dinner at the far end of the table (everyone provided their own food), turning on the flames as the sun set and the chill set in. We only went to three restaurants, all with outside dining, where we thought they handled safety precautions well. But we did see friends in backyard settings and once had a glorious beach picnic, watching the sun set.

The case load was very low all summer. We technically live in the commercial district and there was a mask mandate in effect beginning around July 1. Dan did a lot of hollering at people. I avoided people as much as possible, taking different routes to stay off Main Street. But coming home from dinner on lower Main Street, over Labor Day Weekend, the streets were packed with people. We ran into a gaggle of 20-something boys, all maskless. Dan engaged them. He told them this was a mask mandatory area. One hollered back that they only had to wear masks indoors. Dan corrected them and tried to walk on. Then one clapped back, “You know, there have really only been 9,000 deaths.” I just couldn’t contain myself. I turned back, glared at him and said, “Oh my god, you are a stupid Trump supporter!” I was quaking with rage, as I continued to walk the block and a half to my home.

Yeah, that sort of sums up how I felt going into the fall. The stupidity and politicization of information about COVID-19, the wearing of masks, and distain for science in general from our “Fearless Leader” caused our country to be much sicker and this pandemic to be much worse than it needed to be. We would eventually find out just how terrible and deceitful his lack of  communicating and planning had been.

My beloved National Music Camp, now the Interlochen Arts Camp, had a Zoom reunion for people who attended during the 1960s. 100 people showed up, way too many to adequately moderate. They tried again later, but my “gang” of friends are now having our own reunions and we decided to meet about once a month…so great to have the opportunity to eyeball one another on a regular basis, check in, chat. I guess that’s the bright side of all this. We are mostly home and most use Zoom. If we were out and about, we would never have the time to get together.

I go to Rose Board meetings over Zoom, lectures at the Rose over Zoom, Culture Club over Zoom. It is the way we communicate.

We haven’t seen our children since Christmas, 2019. Last summer we began having video chats every other Sunday. It is good to check in, see them and have an extended time to talk. David and Anna are trying to buy a home in London. Vicki was able to renew her lease for less money than she had been paying. We talk across EIGHT time zones, but its worth it.

I came back to Newton at the end of September. No chorus this season, but at least I could get back to my gym for a month, which did an excellent job with safety protocols. I felt perfectly safe. My 50th high school reunion in suburban Detroit, scheduled for September was postponed to next year, but we did hold a virtual one in October on Zoom. Kudos to the committee for planning a really wonderful event over two days. I got to see old friends and make new ones.

At the end of October, I had another toe surgery, to correct the arthritis in the second toe on my right foot, now misshapen and curling toward the big toe. It was easier surgery than six years ago, when I replaced the joint of the big toe, but I was still in a boot for several weeks, then in a sneaker all the time for another month, so exercise was impeded.

We sweated out the election and it’s aftermath. I went on a serious M&N binge, which I’m trying to work off now. The stress of watching  T***p try and steal the election and demolish our democracy was almost too much. Watching the insurrection on January 6 was WAY too much.

In mid-January, before the snow and bitter cold set in, we went on a day trip to the Vineyard to pick up the car we leave there (we are buying a new one and trading in the old one which is 17 years old). We got to have an outdoor lunch with the friends whose house we were at the day the lockdown was announced (symmetry) and were with when I snapped that perfect sunset photo. We also got to see our across-the-street neighbors, whom we love dearly. A perfect day.

Along with at least 81 million of our fellow citizens, we celebrated the Biden/Harris inauguration and breathed a sigh of relief that it went off beautifully, with no violence, an uplifting message and our country can begin the work it needs to get back to normal.

Now we have lived through a second impeachment. Even with acquittal, the evidence is overwhelming and T***p should no longer be able to escape civilian and criminal consequences. Even as I write this, a member of Congress sued the former president, his personal lawyer, the Proud Boys and Oath Keepers for violating an obscure law, the 1871 Ku Klux Klan Act. This will be interesting.

A funny Zoom moment happened in a Texas courtroom recently, as seen in my Featured photo. A lawyer showed up using a cat filter (one of his kids was the last to use the computer). He didn’t know how to get rid of it. It offered a moment of levity in an otherwise solemn week.

Though Massachusetts is known for its extraordinary health care and research (Moderna is headquartered here), the vaccine rollout has been awful. I see friends around the country posting that they’ve been vaccinated, but people in my age group were not eligible until intense pressure on our governor finally paid off and he announced we would be eligible as of 8am on Feb. 18…all additional million of us baby boomers. So Dan and I began trying to work the website, which crashed for hours. And hours. In fact, the new vaccine appointments weren’t even loaded into the system for hours. But each of us were able to snag our first shots within the first week. We feel tremendous relief and joy.

Between September, 2020 and February, 2021, I have lost three first cousins. Not to COVID, just age-related infirmities and other maladies. As I’ve said before, at 68, I am the youngest of the first cousins. It is sad to lose my loved-ones.

We are among the fortunate. We didn’t have jobs to lose, children who needed remote learning, we are not just scrapping by. We managed to navigate our lousy vaccination site and get appointments as soon as we were eligible. Still, it has been a stressful year for everyone. I am grateful for what we have: our health, our family, our well-being, a new, responsible government.

And a different happy recent event: my brother’s 73rd birthday on February 12. My sister-in-law hosted a surprise Zoom birthday party for him. He was truly overwhelmed and touched. We came in at the end with close family and stayed to talk. Even David joined from London, though it was close to 2am for him. He wanted to see his cousins. And I already have a “save the date” for their next Zoom Passover Seder. A year has gone by.

 

 

Of course I also loved the subversive version...
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Valentine’s Day in Foggytown

Early in our marriage my husband had an opportunity to work at the London branch of his company and we didn’t hesitate to pack up and go!  (See Laundry Day in London, Intro to Cookery, and Kinky Boots)

We rented a cosy flat with a little garden in the back and settled into London life.  While Danny was at the office I learned my way around town,  took courses a few days a week,  and kept happily busy.

We got used to the foggy weather,  learned to put milk in our tea,  and I soon noticed I was calling everyone  “Luv”.

Thankfully the currency had recently been decimalized so rather than 12 shillings,  it was now (to us Yankees at least) a much more sensible 100 pence to the British pound.

And that year we learned to celebrate holidays British-style.  We went to a lovely old London synagogue on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur where we said  “God save the Queen”  at the end of each service,  and standing on the Chelsea Embankment we cast our sins into the River Thames.

In February as Valentine’s Day approached,   I saw the familiar holiday frenzy in the shops  – ribbons and lace in shop windows,  chocolates in heart-shaped boxes,  and cardboard Cupids with arrows and bows.

And so to buy Danny’s card and some sweets for our traditional Valentine’s Day chocolate exchange I headed out to a large Boots – the ubiquitous UK pharmacy chain – which happened to be near Danny’s office.   Sure enough there was a big Valentine display,  and I began searching the racks for the perfect card.

Then from the corner of my eye I noticed a familiar-looking guy thumbing through the cards on the other side of the rack.

“Dana?”  said a voice I knew.

“Hello Luv.”  I said to my husband.

– Dana Susan Lehrman 

Mardi Gras 2020 — The last night out
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