Summer Time. 2020 Vision
Summer Time… and the livin’ is easy
As I write this I hear the crickets chirp outside. A sign that the sun is out and the weather is warm. Waiting for the swimsuits to dry before we head out to the pool again. We have discovered several lovely beaches within a short walk, bike or drive from our house in Gatineau. The quarantine restrictions have kept us closer to home this summer and we’ve made the best of it by exploring the outdoors as much as we can. “It’s Ok to Feel Ok Right Now” an article I read recently in the New York Times.
As we drove back through the rolling hills of La Petite Nation yesterday evening -after yet another day relaxing with friends at the beach of Lac Simon- my husband remarked that it would be nice to go back in the fall to admire the leaves as they change color. The passing of seasons, remind me to appreciate each moment of each day. Here in Canada, we know that the long hot days of summer will eventually come to an end. Six months from now, we will all be cursing the knee deep cold and sticky wet snow all around us.
Stop thinking. Just be.
A few days ago, I caught myself speaking with a neighbor about the Coronavirus Pandemic as something of the past. We both abruptly paused the conversation and quickly corrected ourselves, it’s not really over. For the moment we are in a lull, who knows exactly when the second, third, fourth wave will hit. Will it be as strong? Confinement at home in the middle of a very cold and dark winter will look and feel quite different. It took several weeks to get over the stress of “la 2e rentrée” in May 2020. I look towards the start of the new school year in September with trepidation. We still don’t know what school or the classroom will look like for students or their teachers. (But that’s for another blog post.) Right now I have a good book, a fresh cup of tea and a hammock chair waiting for me in the shade of an oak tree in our backyard.
Off the Grid
We stayed a week at a rural “off the grid” cottage in the Pontiac region of the Outaouais. Only an hour drive from our house, it was a nice escape from the hustle and bustle of the city. Since the little house was shaded by tall trees, no AC was required even in the middle of a hot and humid summer. The house sat a few steps away from a clear cool lake in which we swam several times a day. We brought our own drinking water and the well pump made a loud noise each time we ran the tap. The kids quickly learned to “if its tallow let it mellow, if its brown flush it down.” The noise of the pump was a gentle reminder to limit our consumption of water.The solar panel and gas lights reminded us to be careful of how much energy we used.
I am trying to get back in shape in order to loose those extra “corona-pounds” which magically appeared (I swear) while news scrolling and stress eating back in the Spring of 2020. Anyways. I decided to go for a healthy run with my husband. He donned brand new running shoes and an old pair of shorts along with a running t-shirt which proudly boasted marathon finisher 2014. The wall of hungry mosquitoes got me after about 10 minutes. And I walked home, dejected.
He came back some 55 minutes later seemingly not so out of breath but instead with a story to tell:
Run and Reflect
“I was running on the rural highway (speed limit 90km/h) when I spotted a man weaving from left to right over the yellow line in the middle of the road on a rusty bicycle. As he approached I noticed blood dripping from his arm and face.
– I just got run off the road by a *#\*# car.
– Are you okay?
– Yeah. I’m fine. The car pushed me off the road, man.
– You are bleeding from your arm. Maybe you should stop.
– Nah! I’m ok.
The strangers eyes were glossy, his hair was tousled and messy. I feared he might be drunk but sensing that the shock was keeping him from feeling any pain, my priority was to convince him to stop and sit down. I was reluctant to get very close to him, not because of the blood, but because I did not think to bring a protective face mask with me.
– You’re arm is bleeding. You should get it checked out. Do you want me to call an ambulance?
– Nah! I’m fine. I don’t live too far away. I’m staying with my parents. I used to work as a cook in Kanata but with the whole Covid thing I got laid off. Now I’m back here staying with the folks for the summer.
The middle-aged man seemed in distress. He seemed oblivious to the blood dripping from his left sleeve. I also observed that his arm was hanging crookedly, it looked strange. He need medical help.
– That’s too bad man.You should get someone to take a look at that arm of yours. I’m not from around here, where is the closest hospital?
He slumps down and looks defeated. I noticed a big brown beer bottle of Coors Light peaking out from one of the side bags on his bike. It was 10am.
– I really liked my job and I had my own place and all.
– The whole confinement has been hard on a lot of us. Is there someone I can call to come pick you up?
– My dad. They live nearby.
– Give me the number and I’ll wait with you until he comes.
Together, 2m apart, we waited for his dad to arrive. The adrenaline kept him chatting about his old job in the restaurant with me. He rambled on about how he missed having his own car. He had given up his apartment because he could no longer afford the rent. He had had to sell most of his furniture to pay off debts. A few minutes later, an old red pick-up slowed down on the side of the road. Out stepped an older version of the man with the broken arm. The look on the fathers face told me this was not the first time his middle aged son had gone on a drinking bender on a weekday morning. The dad hoisted the rusty bike into the back of his truck. I waved goodbye as they drove off towards the local medical clinic. I got to thinking about the secondary effects of the Covid-19 pandemic on our society.
Side Effects
The fallout from this pandemic is not only physical (the count is now 1 million deaths worldwide) but also economic and social. Those in certain industries such as the restaurant business, pubs and bars, live entertainment, and retail have seen their lively hood change drastically, with no real end in sight, and must reinvent themselves in order just to stay afloat. Here is a first hand example written anonymously in the article “My world came crashing down: how 2020 took me from a six figure salary to universal credit” in the Guardian. “One Bar. Twelve Weeks. Seventeen Lives in Lockdown.” from the New York Times shares the story of the quarantine restrictions on household earnings from several perspectives.
The impact has been especially difficult for mother of young children. Mothers have had to put their careers on hold in order to take care and educate their children at home. “During COVID-19, women’s participation in the Canadian workforce has fallen to a level not seen since the mid-80s, with unprecedented job losses and an unequal burden at home. That’s not just bad for women, but the entire economy, say experts.” Others have seen their working hours (and consequently their take home pay) been cut drastically.
2020 vision
My wish is that lockdown otherwise known as “The Time we Put the World on Pause” is also a moment of forward looking hope, a 2020 vision as it were. We saw what a boost it gave our environment and our planet. We question how we educate and reflect on how children learn. We put family time and outdoor activities before mall time and shopping. I must set aside my irritation at having to wear a mask when I am in a public indoor space. How do we make these new resolutions last? Will they become new habits and routines? This is my hope, my vision for 2020.
Well written again. You are a natural.