August 21

When I first moved into my 400-square-foot digs, I packed a laundry basket with three changes of clothes--which I've been rotating all these weeks.  In different times I might say "outfits," but that is way too generous a label for these mismatched and paint-friendly rags I wear. 

When I first moved into the casita, I would go into the house and get a dainty dip of ice cream; now I  eat straight from the carton.  

I used to take long hot baths; now I take showers.

When I go into my house to check on the progress, it's like visiting someone else who isn't home--except for Carlos and Pedro in the evenings working on tile, two men who always smile.  

On Wednesday, I was preoccupied with trying to figure out why my irrigation system wasn't working and plants were dying. After hand-watering the back yard in 105-degrees, I went to get a drink and backed into Pedro's car parked across the street.  I apologized profusely, then got in the car,  screamed one big therapeutic scream, called State Farm, and started crying because Jacob at State Farm was so kind. 

Pedro was his usual sweet self about it.  "I can fix it," he said. "No worries.  Nobody got hurt."  If it weren't times of COVID, I'd have given him a hug.  I did get him a phone number and a claims number, and he'll get it fixed. 

While I was in mid-cry, Will called.  He was his sweet self, too. "Don't worry about it, Mom.  I'll come over after work tomorrow and fix the water."  (He did and he did.). He also told me about all the times the fire truck drivers run into the bay door or something.  And that Bonnie has knocked  his mirrors off the car more times than he can count. 

Carlos called after putting the pencil tiles around the shower to tell me there weren't enough; together we realized that he'd used the ones intended for the floor molding.  "Can you fix it?" I asked.  "Of course," he smiled. "I can fix anything." 

Lots of things have changed during COVID.  Big things, little things. But we've just had a remarkable convention and people in my orbit are wonderfully kind. Unlike so many people in America, I have insurance and all the essentials, even in a tiny house.   In those ways and many others, I feel lucky.