Isolation

Complete utter aloneness. 

If I thought I had little human contact before, wow, now is constant aloneness. 

Even the streets are empty.   I had no cat food deliveries today so I have been home.

My shower head broke off this morning.  I just reached up to adjust its angle, and boom, it broke off.  It's old and plastic, what can I say.  I'll see if I have a sprinkler head I can screw on there for now.  I think they're too big though.  Shower heads are half inch.

I set up a trap in the garage cat room off the cat yard, hoping somebody'd fall for it, go in, so I could flea treat them without chasing everyone around with a net, but no takers.  I had the remote control attached to the trap and a baby monitor on it to watch.  Once the baby monitor receiver's charge wore down, I gave it up.  I will have to chase them down.

During a brief respite between violent rain showers, I cut some cross pieces for the cat yard climb up to one of the runs.  The ones that were on the ramp, to give the older cats some climbing leverage, had by now rotted, with a couple nails sticking up.  I took those out, cut pieces 11 inches long with a hand saw, painted them, to stall the rot setting in, with the last puffs from a spray paint can, drilled holes in the them, and screwed them onto the climbing ramp.  That's done at least.  Didn't take long though.

There's a lot of work to do around here, but most of the projects would take supply runs and I just am not interested in doing that.  This kind of complete isolation is intense, but I've settled into it, in a damp, slow, heavy sort of way.  I'm sad.

All that was my life is gone.  Just in a blink.

I still have a roof over my head and the cats.  It's the rest that's gone, my job, my mission, my weekly cat round ups and trips to the clinic, my great joy in getting cats fixed.  All human contact too. 

That's life I guess.

I miss my cat round ups, the intensity of those, the joy of the hunt, the meeting of people and new cats and assessing how best to catch each one.  I miss nature and hugs and seeing familiar faces at the park and talking to them about their health, their dogs, their lives.

My brothers have yet to call me.  I called each a couple of times.  One's a virus denier, thinks everything should just go back to normal that its just the same as the flu really and we don't close down for that.   Ever the rebel.  The other is just staying in, outside of walking their dog.  He and his wife are both out of work now but she remains busy with projects and keeping an eye on her parents. 

I search for projects I can do with what I have here.   I read at night.  I play with the cats.  I clean the house, which is a constant need with the cats.  I really hope to have cat food deliveries to make in the next day or two, to get out of here for a bit.   I feel like when I leave home now, conspicuous or something, like I'll be stopped by the police, but that is not the case.  We can leave home as long as we remain distanced from others.  I do need that shower head from Home Depot.  I don't want to go down that rabbit hole, of not even taking a shower and sleeping odd hours.

I wonder if I'll ever be the same after all this is over, or if it will take awhile to feel comfortable hugging a stranger again, or shaking a hand.   I wonder if the spay neuter clinics will go under and not open again.  If not, I wonder what will happen to those folks who work there and those veterinarians.   I wonder if I'll ever trap again or see my brothers again.  I wonder if I'll be able to take my raft out on the lake this summer.  I wish I could do that right now  I'd feel better out on the water I know.  Or in it.

Too much time.  I better get back to projects.  I have some sewing to do.

Doesn't take long to start feeling caged and a need to escape the cage.   

Gigi, the neighbor cat, who now lives mostly in my garage, is sure happy and her health has improved a hundred fold, just to be loved.  However, she stole my chair.