Saturday, April 4th
Today will go down in my memory (and perhaps in the memories of others) as the day when the White House experts declared that wearing surgical masks was something that we should all do. Seconds later, in front of those experts, Trump stepped forward and said that he wasn’t going to do it.
I think that sums up the confusion, the misinformation, the arrogance and the criminal cluelessness of this administration, to date.
Since there are no surgical masks to be had, my wife continued to make ours out of colorful materials. They look rather fine, and only await some elastic, which is an item that also seems to be on the endangered list since our local shop is closed. The stitching process was held up temporarily because the sewing machine, long unused, refused to function. This led to me breaking out the toolkit and getting to work. I mean, what else was I going to do? I’ve never dismantled a sewing machine before, and goodness, those things are complicated. Lots of little, delicate brass gears and nickel-plated thingies, and items that I swear have no name and no use, but are in there anyway. I think, after this go-round, that MacGuyver has serious competition. I was flushed with my success. Perhaps now I can jury-rig a ventilator?
One of our very dear friends in Holland saw from yesterday’s post that we were making masks and asked if they were for a festive occasion or perhaps a theatrical event? I felt surprisingly sad when had to say that, no, these were not really designed as creative expressions of joyous spontaneity.
And perhaps that was the hint I needed. Creativity is usually the antidote to gloom, despair and malaise. What we may need to do for ourselves right now is to take joy in a creative task. Start small, I’d suggest. Rearrange your living space a little. Repaint a wall or some piece of furniture. Draw just for the heck of it. Repot that plant you’ve been scowling at for a couple of weeks. If you can get out, do something in the garden. The pictures are of what some local kids did with their sidewalk, if you need inspiration. Or – and this is my particular favorite – write an old-fashioned hand-written missive to someone, and draw funny doodles in the margins, on the envelope, and wherever you can. Go on. You know you can do this.
And you’ll be amazed how good it feels.