Bill Taylor chalks up his quarter-century of lockdown notes from Toronto. His offerings have been the prolific heart and soul of Salut!'s series of Covid-19 Diaries and he will continue to post his thoughts at Facebook for those of you who know him there. The series has been worthwhile - just look to the left for a glance at the menu - but will be added to only occasionally from now. Thanks once again to all contributors and most of all, of course, to Bill ...
Buckaroo notes from the trenches:
Been ’cross the desert on a horse with no name?
Been? As in past tense? Sorry, I mean… how are you enjoying the ride?
Midway through our fifth week in this Sahara of seclusion, we should be getting used to it. If nothing else, distancing means “there ain’t no one for to give you no pain.”
(Words and music by Dewey Bunnell. A name to conjure with.)
No pain other than allegorical saddle sores. But at least there’s no cantering. This is a Budweiser Clydesdale, not a Grand National steeplechaser. It may rear up once in a while but so far it hasn’t been too hard to stay on.
Okay, stop with the laboured equine metaphors. (I know, flogging a dead…)
So how about:
The wheels on the bus go ’round and ’round…
An announcement from Lesley:
“I’ve washed the outside of the house.”
If cleanliness really is next to godliness, we should have an all-access pass to the pearly gates. (Just not yet, okay?)
And this just in: Personal contact with a friend! From a solid five metres distance, but still.
She texts to say she’s walking down our street (probably drawn like a moth to a flame by the glittering jewel that is our domicile) so Lesley goes out onto the porch, Sarah stays on the sidewalk and they yell masked pleasantries at one another for a couple of minutes.
I’m in the basement working out and miss it. But it’s nice to think it happened. Even though they might have quite quickly run out of things to talk about. I don’t suppose cave-dwellers had long, scintillating conversations, either.
“So, what’s new with you?”
“Is that meant to be funny?”
Lesley’s already done her workout for the day – a 50-lap stair climb, one lap being an up-and-down round-trip. It must be close to halfway up the CN Tower. I’m totally impressed.
I’m also well aware of the subtext. She’s trying to wear out the stair carpet because she’s tired of it.
“You should try it,” she says. “With those four-pound weights strapped around your ankles.”
Yeah, right.
All the same, I probably will. As non-abrasively as I can. See how much the knees can take.
Four on-line yoga sessions behind me now. Slowly, I’m getting the hang of it. During the third one, my inexperience told against me.
We were doing something called, I believe, down dog and it seemed to be going on for quite a while.
I glanced up at my laptop and Evangeline (check out her classes at https://www.facebook.com/groups/yogaCafe.ca/; tell her I sent you) was still holding position so back down I went.
Growing a little weary, I looked up again and she was still there. And then I realised… my screen had frozen.
No harm done and I think I might have invented a new pose – elongated down dog.
If I call it “down dachshund” perhaps it’ll catch on.
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