I began the week worrying about the coronavirus. We were scheduled to get on an airplane Tuesday to go to Monterey for a jazz festival, and as recently as a few days earlier I had been looking forward to it, even as my sons tactfully suggested that maybe it wasn't a good idea to go. It's still safe, I assured them, and we might as well get a week of fun and vacation before the virus started to shut down our social life.
But reading the Sunday morning paper about cases in California -- yes, the same county where we were planning to fly in and out of, and spend at least one night -- changed my mind. I gingerly suggested to my husband (who was the one who REALLY wanted to hear the music) that maybe the risk was too great, and to my surprise, he didn't need much persuading. We canceled our trip, and I immediately felt a lot better.
What surprised me was how quickly my perception of risk changed -- less than a week from what-me-worry to let's-stay-home. I hope I'm overly pessimistic, and the epidemic will fizzle out. But I fear we will have some difficult days ahead.
The silver lining to this cloud was that I was able to attend our twice-a-year retreat after all. I did mostly hand stitching, sewing my machine-stitched pink pyramid houses together and making progress on my newest cross-stitch piece. Look at that almost empty table! I don't find clean work surfaces like that at home.
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