Sundays on lockdown

Today is Sunday, I've lost count of how many weeks we've been on restricted movement and social distancing. I did experience virtual Mass, as I have done since we stopped gathering. It's not the same as attending Mass, but I'm watching virtual Mass celebrated by MY pastor, which makes me still feel connected. And it's comforting. And it's the only thing I get really choked up and feeling emotional about these days. I'm grateful for it.

I spent all day today working on two things:

One is a feature story about a well-liked person who died Wednesday after a Sunday afternoon head-on collision on Polks Road in Somerset County. She was heading home from somewhere. Home was in Whitehaven, which is west of where I live in Wicomico County. I just finished it.

I alternated between that and making more masks for postal workers in Salisbury. I have a long way to go with the masks. I still do not have my new sewing machine.

I ordered, at Robert's request, a new printer, because since the very first day Gov. Larry Hogan said we had to stay home most of the time, my printer has acted quite peculiarly. It first started having white streaks across that cut into the text or image, then it started printing everything in red, or red made pale by the presence of yellow ink. It was really hard to read, in any event. It did this while it was set on black and white printing.

Can't explain it. But Robert needs to be able to make copies once a month, and he hasn't been able to do it. So I ordered a new printer on Friday, and it's due to arrive tomorrow, Monday. So I tried to print out some things related to the story I was writing yesterday and today, and wouln't you know it, the printer decided to print using black ink again. There were a few streaks here and there, but go figure.

I'm setting up the new printer as soon as it arrives, and tomorrow would be a really super great day if both the printer and the sewing machine arrived tomorrow.

Tomorrow I make more masks, and it will be time for another trip to the landfill. Off to bed now, so I can be fresh for tomorrow. Only one virtual meeting tomorrow, in the afternoon.

Oh, almost forgot! The instructor of the memoir writing class I'm taking gave me some really high praise, had no suggestions beyond one typo, said it put her into that time and place, that she felt the coldness of the room, that the conversations were natural and handled well, good descriptions. I am getting excited about the project!

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