Journal of the Plague Year: Hunkering Down

Day 1: 3/15/2020

The stakes are high right now. People are getting sick and dying all over the world. But I seem to be in suspended animation, as if we lived inside a surrealistic play or in an airplane that never landed. 

Tonight we plan to watch the debate between Biden and Sanders, which should be weird without a studio audience. We need to get used to events that occur in a vacuum. Last night, the Minnesota Orchestra cancelled its performance. Instead, it was broadcast on Minnesota Public Radio; the musicians played the scheduled program to an empty hall.

Lots of our life has gone online or been cancelled. Church is now online, the benefit of which is that one can go at any time. The Metropolitan Opera is online. Helpful Facebook friends have sent links to online museums. My academic friends are trying to figure out how to conduct their classes online.

Plays, social gatherings, concerts, book groups, and almost every other group event has been cancelled—even March Madness. The hording is very discouraging. Empty shelves at Target were one thing, but when the organic veggies at my local food coop were almost sold out, I was surprised. We have lots of food, although not all of it is precisely what I wanted. Others got there before me. And we will need toilet paper before too long. Wonder who will have it?

I have ordered ingredients for homemade hand sanitizer but will have to wait another week before Amazon can ship the aloe vera gel. I suspect others have thought of this stratagem after finding no commercial hand sanitizers anywhere. 

Our little world has already shrunk to Lilliputian size. Maybe a giant will arrive, and we can tie him down to distract ourselves in the absence of other amusements. I do have one in mind. But that is another story.

Happy New Year

The year that just ended is hard to characterize. We spent far too much time chewing over the jaw-dropping spectacle that is our national government. We bored friends with the stories of our Maine cottage adventure. We confronted advancing age and growing health concerns.

However, 2018 also gave us great music in New York and St. Paul, Louise’s retirement, a much-needed trip to Palm Beach in February, the near-completion of our Maine house, chances to see old friends and family, and numerous visits from our out-of-town children.  It appears that they worry about us and feel the need to check in more frequently than in the past.  We do not correct their view of our situation and accept with gratitude whatever motivates them to hop on planes from Portland and Seattle.  

Like us, Mitzi the Cat is getting older.  She can’t leap tall buildings or jump onto kitchen stools the way she once did.  She even deigns to let us pick her up so she can get on the unmade bed or the warm shelf above the radiator. In short, she has become more mellow, possibly reflecting the relaxed attitude we are trying to adopt in the face of so much craziness outside our safe Minneapolis enclave.

And that is what we wish for everyone in 2019—relaxation, safety and the ability to find joy in moments big and small.

Five Rules for Adult Children Who Live With You

This may be every parent’s nightmare—your once successful 20 or 30-something kid now needs a place to live.  Adult children who have been out in the world need to return to the nest for a variety of reason: mental illness, drug addiction, job loss, relationship breakups, and other disasters.  Although each set of circumstances differs, parents should set certain rules when an adult child returns home. After all, the house, apartment, or yurt belongs to the parent. Mutually agreed-upon rules are the glue that keeps groups functioning, whether the group is a family, a government, or a multi-national corporation. Put more simply, rules like those below can make the difference between parental melt-down and a manageable situation.

Rule 1: Pay rent. You might think, “That’s why they returned home—they have no money.” That may be true, but most people can pay something, even if it’s only five dollars per month.  And if they have absolutely no income, people can get casual jobs such as lawn mowing, leaf-raking, snow-shoveling, dog-walking, and babysitting to provide enough to cover the nominal rent. If this type of work is not available, the parent can hire the kid for similar jobs.  But the bottom line is that living in the parental home as an adult should not be totally free.

Rule 2: Do chores. The tasks should be assigned and performed on a regular basis.  This could include taking out the garbage daily, putting out the cans on trash collection day, changing the cat box every other day, bringing in the mail daily, watering the plants twice a week, cooking dinner once a week, weekly grocery shopping, driving a parent to work or other appointments on a regular basis, and any other repeatable task.  The point is that the tasks should be regular, not sporadic. The parent should not have to ask the child to do them—they should be part of the daily or weekly routine.

Rule 3: Eat a meal. Parents should not have a ghost living in the home. It’s not good for anyone. Even someone living in the basement playing video games can emerge weekly to eat. It could be Sunday dinner, Wednesday pizza night, or Saturday noon brunch.  The important thing is that participating in the meal should be both regular and required.

Rule 4: Have a schedule. If adult children are not working, they still must do something.  They can volunteer, regularly visit an elderly neighbor or relative, go to AA meetings, take a class, get a part-time job, or find something else to do on a regular basis.

Rule 5: Do something with the parents regularly.  This could be a monthly trip to the movies, attending religious services, a weekly or monthly restaurant meal, a walk in the park, a shared gym membership, or something else done together.  It doesn’t have to be the same every month or week, but it should be something discussed and agreed-upon in advance. If parents and children dislike spending even minimal time together, they should not be living in the same home.


Although these rules won’t work for everyone all the time, it is important that parents try as many as possible.  It is perfectly reasonable to set rules for an adult child who returns to camp out in the parental home.  First, it sends the message that the parent expects the arrangement will be temporary. Second, it requires the child to contribute to the operation of the household.  Third, it could strengthen the relationship between parents and their adult children, making the forced association more enjoyable. Although home is where they always have to take you in, they don’t have to take you in entirely on your terms.  It should be a two-way street.

14 Signs You Are Living With an Old-Fashioned Guy

The past 40 years have changed many aspects of relationships between men and women.  However, some men have adapted unevenly to the new zeitgeist, producing mixed results in the domestic sphere. For example, does your man do these things in his efforts to be helpful?

1. He empties the dishwasher but leaves many dishes on the counter.
2.  He thriftily turns off every light but doesn’t close closet doors.
3.  He makes the bed by pulling up the covers, sort of.
4.  He tries to cook with mixed results.
5.  He does the laundry but leaves used tissues in the pockets.
6.  He weeds the flower beds but pulls up precious blooms.
7.  He recycles beer bottles but leaves the caps everywhere. 

However ...

1.  He opens doors. 
2. He removes his baseball cap.
3. He is kind to old ladies.
4. He is great with kids.
5.  He changes diapers. 
6. He enjoys crazy relatives.
7.  He shovels neighbors’ sidewalks.

In my view, the first seven are superficial and the second seven reflect core values. If it’s important to me, I can close the closet doors, make the bed, watch out for bottle caps underfoot and put the dishes away. However, I cannot force him to be nice to my odd relatives—he does that all by himself. A happy home life is often the result of deciding what really matters.

The Construction Saints of Washington County

We have encountered some remarkable people in our efforts to recreate my grandmother's house in easternmost Maine.  There are still a few people around who remember her, and that is fun.  Then there are others who remember relatives I never knew, and that is also fun.

Then there are the people who think we are quite probably certifiable. First of all, there are the legal and civic issues that need attention and care. From the lawsuit by an abutting landowner against the town for issuing us a building permit to the tribal people who have dug clams on our beach for generations, some people are not as enthusiastic about our little venture as we might like.

The second issue that suggests we might not be playing with full decks is the water table.  It's high.  That means that we have had to do a lot of ditching and draining to keep water from seeping into the structure. People have commented. However, as a glass-half-full person, I am beginning to enjoy thinking about different water-loving plants we can put in the ditches.

The remarkable people, however, are the local contractors and experts who have jumped in to help with the project.  Although we are paying them, they also seem to take genuine pleasure in helping out the crazy folks from away.

The hero of the project is John the carpenter. John likes to do things the old fashioned way and is highly knowledgeable about historic New England building methods.  If he was not able to salvage building elements during deconstruction, he has recreated them. That includes window trim and baseboards, both of which fell apart when he tried to remove them from the old house.  No problem--he just remade them. He knows the best lumber yards in the area and is quite scornful of the big box building stores.

Under his supervision, we purchased quarter sawn white spruce clapboards from a mill in western Maine still making them as they were made in the 19th century.  I was thrilled when I was able to introduce him to a guy who makes cedar shingles in a one-man mill that is more than 100 years old. He is going back next week to pick up our order, which will grace the water side of the house.

The ever-thrifty Mainers of the past would put the fancy siding, i.e. the painted or stained clapboards, on the public face of the house, and put the lesser quality siding, cedar shingles, on the back, where no one would see them.  The fact that cedar is even more durable than white spruce, especially in sea-side structures, makes that strategy a good one.

Of course there is the couple who sold us the land; the man is also a site designer.  He is still trying to get the water away from the house, and does not charge us what he should.  That is fine with me, of course.

Then there is the heavy equipment guy, who has done a lot of work for us and is one of the people who remembers some of my relatives. He is an artist of the bulldozer and front loader, picking up boulders like someone picking up a piece of tofu with chopsticks. He built the road, the driveway, the septic system, the slab on which the house rests, and is still working on the ditches and drains.

Next up are the plumber and electrician, who both appear to live by the motto, "We'll get 'er done." Because they are good, they are in high demand and require periodic reminders that we exist.  Making excuses to email, call or visit results in the feeling that they were just thinking about our project and were on the verge of calling us.  That's a skill.

Then there is the general contractor who has saved our bacon several times. He has a big crew of incredibly handsome sons and relatives and is a great problem solver. He is also in demand; Our attorney once commented that he now understood why his front porch was not getting repaired--the contractor was working for us!

Then there is another heavy equipment operator who deconstructed the original house.  He was recommended to us as the right guy for the job because he "liked to knock things down." And he did, with attention to our need to salvage as much as possible from the structure.

There are many others--the aforementioned attorney and the woman who runs a nearby Air B & B and has put us up numerous times during construction.  She has provided invaluable contractor recommendations. There is the town clerk of Perry, always efficient and knowledgeable about what we need to do. The fact that she reminds me of my grandmother, from her tightly permed iron-gray hair to her beautiful Washington County accent, is an added bonus. Then there is Roy, who remembers my grandmother and cleaned out her house for the “Junkin' for Jesus” auction (really) at the town's Congregational church before we started disassembling the structure.

While we hope the results of our efforts will be lovely, the process has been remarkable, too.  It's not just a building project, it's a labor of love and a trip down memory lane, made memorable by the Washington County folks who have helped along the way.