Journal of a Plague Year, Friday, March 27

This was the first Friday I went into town, since I decided to make that the one day I ventured out. I’d ordered some plants in January, and nurseries tend to ship early in the week so their packages won’t spend a weekend in transit. They never let me know when they ship, but do say they start shipping to warmer locations on March 15. Some think that includes us.

My first stop was a gas station, where there were the usual number of vehicles for midday in the middle of the week. It probably was down from the normal traffic on a Friday when tourists are driving through.

Since I’d read the virus could be picked up from hard surfaces, I wore the gallon baggies when I handled the pump. I didn’t notice anyone else wearing masks or gloves. They may have felt safe since they’d just left their vehicles and no one was around them.

My other stop was the post office. Whoever sends out those weekly fliers hadn’t stopped. My mail box was clotted with them. My one package was in a locker. Again, I wore the baggies to handle the keys and open the boxes. There were few others in the box area, and none were taking precautions.

I was out during the noon hour. Traffic was lighter than it had been, and all the favorite restaurants were open, with a few cars parked outside. They may have been employees or people picking up orders. The only one that was visibly active was a drive-in.

These places are so woven into the fabric of the community, they will revive as soon as they open. That, of course, assumes, they aren’t too heavily in debt and can survive having lower revenues for a while. It also assumes the owners and cooks don’t get sick or retire.

It took a while for traffic on the road by my house to stop. In the first days of the quarantine, people still went out. Like me they probably were buying the necessities needed to hunker down.

For a few days, the sound of weed eaters seemed nearly constant. Men had the leisure to work on their yards. Years ago a woman told me that, when she sprained her ankle and had to spend days on her sofa, all she noticed was the dirt of the windows. The men were home in daylight and could see the accumulated weeds, and may have needed an excuse to get out of the house.

Now that noise has stopped, and very few cars go by. The quarantine has begun in earnest.