I feel like so much and yet so little are going on! So much, in that we drove 11 hours to Western New York to visit my sister and her family last week. So little, in that once we got there we tried to avoid other people as much as possible and the same once we got home. I feel guilty for having gone, I feel guilty for having wanted to go, and I feel like it was definitely worth the risk and nothing about any of this is fair.

Every decision we make about when to leave our houses, when to socialize or not, is wrong in somebody’s eyes and is being judged. I read people saying they don’t go anywhere and take every precaution and yet got COVID and then also, by the way, they visited with 10 other family members, unmasked, who mostly all also got COVID. And then I think, that could be us, except if it were to happen, I wouldn’t say I didn’t do anything. I would say, yes, I drove 11 hours to visit them, I wore a mask every time I went inside a truck stop or rest area to use the bathroom, I packed food except for one meal, and we ate every meal outside or in our car. We washed our hands excesssively, used wipes and hand sanitizer on every given opportunity, and once we arrived at my sister’s house we hugged those kids like it was the last time we would see them.

I know no matter what we all do there is a risk, but some things are more risky than others. I’m still limiting my outings, but I probably go inside stores 1 to 2 times a week now rather than 1 time every two weeks.

And then we are planning a two week camping trip…we are going soon, and frankly I can’t wait, but I also feel worried and guilty about it. I think, according to best practices, we will be as safe as we can be not actually just staying at home, but that’s the thing, we would be safer just staying at home. I think that mentally not going anywhere would be very challenging…I feel privileged to be able to take vacations and such, but being able to travel and take some time off is such an integral part of the life I’ve chosen, and we think it’s an okay risk to take. We can avoid crowds, we can wear masks when we go inside, we can eat all of our meals outside, we can hike, and we can sit by the fire and enjoy the night air. I think it’ll be okay, but I don’t know that. I figure that really, the most dangerous part is still probably the drive!

So there’s all my crazy “in head” thoughts about the pandemic. I get overcome when I read about other countries who are in better places than we are, and so I just choose to focus on what’s ahead. Our leadership has utterly failed us, but that doesn’t mean we give up and despair. It means we keep on keeping on, while doing what we can to enact change. We humans can adapt to almost anything, and we have all done a wonderful job adapting. If we all wore masks, last week they said we could kick this pandemic in 4 to 8 weeks. That would be 3 to 7 now.

Now for a bunch of pictures from the trip.

Putting masks on her animals so they don’t get “the virus”, as she calls it.

Swimming in Lake Erie.

Taught this little guy to show his belly button on request. He also learned how to find other people’s belly buttons, or “bebos”.

We did not need this because hardly anyone was on the grounds. This is a popular summer festival called Chautauqua, which was canceled, but people still own homes on the grounds so some were there.

We picked blueberries. Altogether we picked 20 pounds of blueberries, which was a lot. I have some in my freezer here.

We made a recipe for a “Blueberry Buckle” from the New York Times. It was very good.

We did a short hike on the Frank Cusamano Trail which had a stretch very near my sister’s house. I mistakenly assumed there weren’t bugs in New York.

Aunt pile in the hammock!

I had just taken an online seminar about teaching kids improvisation so I set her up with a track to play along with. She could hear it better with headphones and I think they also made it a bit more fun.

On Chautauqua Lake.

At Panama Rocks, which she called alternately, Panada Rocks or Panana Rocks.

At Bemis Point, on Chautauqua Lake.

Thoughts about driving east: everywhere indoors and many outdoor places in New York State, everybody wore masks. In Ohio at truck stops, still quite a lot of masks. Indiana, not as many, and so on. I think that places should provide masks (well, I think the government should provide them) and require people to wear them. I suspect a certain percentage of non masked people have simply forgotten, and another percentage won’t do it unless required. Sure, some people get angry and shoot up the place when asked to wear a mask, but let’s not pretend they weren’t just looking for an excuse, after all, a certain percentage have always been happen to shoot up a place.

When I left my family visit, I hugged my niece and told her I’d at least see her next summer. They live in Phoenix during the year, and that’s a long drive. (I can’t imagine flying again any time soon.) She said she hoped the virus would be gone soon so we could see each other.

I know that the government has taken a lot of things from a lot of people, but that’s what they’ve taken from me with their mishandling of the virus. I don’t know the next time I’ll see any of my family. I know many people, especially immigrants, have it much worse, but I just think of all the people who said, oh, you’re overreacting, it won’t be that bad. I can’t see my parents. We can’t leave the country, for the most part. And I may not see my niece and nephew again for another year. You know how fast kids grow, right? This is what the GOP has taken from us with their complete yet purposeful mishandling of the pandemic. They are intentionally letting it run rampant because they think it will help them in the next election, and making us all prisoners in our communities, in our homes. Everyday we live with stress, anxiety, fear, and have no idea what the future will bring, and we know exactly whose fault it is, and yet, what do we do? We pick blueberries. We hike. We feel guilty every time we step out of the house and we blame our friends for doing the same.