The Coronavirus pandemic has indisputably altered trade. Yet newly cultivated habits have already hardened. Granted the scope of change is narrowly confined to the elemental issues of shelter, food and rest, not exactly the topics of raging contest or indescribable novelty. Nonetheless I pine to establish routine. In the interest of ceremonial spirituality I have kept breakfast to ingredients unadulterated by contaminants such as salt, sugar or condiments; viz., sliced green apple, wedge of Brie cheese, steel cut oats and strong black coffee. I have for the nonce abandoned the superfluity of whole blanched almonds. We have in the past several days interrupted the integrity of our diet by having succumbed to prepared Chinese food which I mistakenly purchased upon our return home. Last night we exhausted the bowls – including the Oreo cookies and most of the brittle (both further evidence of my psychological abuse at the grocery store). Call me old fashioned but I adore raw foods – certainly anything other than processed food. Thankfully His Lordship thought to purchase some fresh salmon filet which we’ve already prepared in the microwave.
We content ourselves to read, write, watch TV, eat and sleep. I hope to tackle the piano this afternoon – first time in six months! Meanwhile the sympathetic fallacy of the weather is welcome – grey, gloomy and sombre. It is a fortunate coincidence because it defeats my exterior ambitions for bicycling and a car wash. It also affords me the opportunity to listen at length to the recent downloads from Apple Music. This inexpensive App has succeeded to introduce me to many composers and conductors whom I would otherwise never have known. It is cheering that discovery on some level is yet possible!
Nor will I deny the visceral pleasure I derive from lingering among my favourite things in the apartment. These articles represent the distilled remnants of my material past. They were all carefully chosen – by which I mean, hastily without effort, by quick response to immediate choice. Dithering only results in prolongation of the necessity of abrupt adaptation when downsizing. The ensuing sparsity further accomplishes the relief of having less to absorb. The excess of stock piling complicated watches in a watch winder is no more enchanting than a fat squirrel storing nuts. Keep what you use, not what you squander!
What’s weird about this state of affairs is that no one knows when or how it will end. We are no longer propelled by design. In keeping with the undertow of hope which insinuates each of us I am optimistic – which means I yearn to fulfill what is on my calendar. Certain of the agenda go back a year; others go ahead six months. We’re caught in the irresolute median – pointedly without an escape hatch. It is no surprise the stock market has suffered accordingly. The financial doyens will be awash with projection and what I assume is less than selfless tact!