I’m lying awake at 3 in the morning, tossing and turning, hoping desperately to get back to sleep. Having been awakened an hour or so ago by the sound of metal clinking against the porcelain bathroom sink, the result of a small boy waking up thirsty and needing to fill his favorite green stainless steel water bottle to take to his room, I find my mind wandering. Not good in the wee hours of the morning. My thoughts range from images of dark glass to bubbles to physical distancing to packed storage units to puzzle pieces and to the mind of God. We are talking the big questions here folks, mysteries of the universe. I am ill-equipped on my best day to tread these paths, but currently all I want is a few more hours of thoughtless sleep.
Earlier today my son-in-law and a great crew of guys (all appropriately distancing of course) mixed and poured many bags of concrete that will support the wooden posts for the yurt platform. Seeing the carefully measured lines and watching as they synchronized their efforts before this weekend’s forecasted rain, I played my favorite role on a construction project: Appreciator in Chief.
I got word yesterday that my yurt is indeed in transit, welcome news, and that the tipi poles I ordered are also on the way. There was a bit of a hold-your-breath moment when I received notice that the yurt company would do what it could to help the virus effort, including diverting orders of tents or yurts if they were needed by a hospital or clinic. I calmed down when I tried to imagine the need for a 30′ custom yurt in the scheme of quick medical set-ups. It heartened me to see that the Colorado Yurt Company is producing workplace barrier curtains and face shields.
And all that stuff bumping around in the night in my head? Still there, in compartments to be aired and sorted out on occasion.
My family here on this property forms my current “bubble” in this time of Corona. We are all doing our best, truly, to do our parts in a very unsettling dance. For those of us in the over 60 crowd, this virus represents a challenge in interesting ways. Being seen as “older, more vulnerable, at higher risk” rankles me to be honest. How dare they?!? And then I remember it is not they, it is “it”. I’m healthy and relatively fit. I have future plans. My yurt is on the way, after all. I must, and do, venture out to collect my business mail–though there is not much to collect these days. I hope for the checks that are outstanding, and that somehow they can offset the bills that are still coming as sure as the sun rises. I’m bumbling through online disaster loan applications to cover payroll and rents and such with most work dried up, and I fervently hope they will magically transform into grants (at least that’s what I’ve heard…) when light finally fills this tunnel. At my age, owning a tiny business that I count on going forward and watching the economy spiral downwards requires an internal fortitude that I can only fake to make at this point. (Thus the need for those compartments…)
I’ll leave the mysteries of the universe (and my packed storage units) for another time and leave you with this final photo of one of my favorite long views.