We are Satirically Redefining Remote Living Pandemic Style…

                  

The simplicity of daily tasks completed each morning feels wonderfully normal when not much else is. I derive satisfaction from hearing the automatic coffee pot brewing early each day as I get organized for another day at home. Seems like an oxymoron doesn’t it? 

The coffee tasted particularly good this morning. I am not sure why as I make it exactly the same way daily, but it just did. My phone pinged while I was sipping my coffee and going through the emails that had arrived overnight. The early morning fire was warm and comforting. Not surprisingly my daughter was up at the same early hour as she is the mother of a five-month-old and coaches CrossFit each Saturday morning. I was expecting an image of my beautiful granddaughter on my phone but something quite unexpected was waiting for me. I love when something unexpected is fun and not dire. 

She sent me a CNN link reporting that scientists had cloned an endangered US animal for the first time. A huge achievement in an effort to protect the black-footed ferret. I was happy for the success of the cloning but wondered why this would be of interest to me at 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning? There it was and in bold print. The cloned ferret has been named Elizabeth Ann.  Elizabeth Ann? The hits keep coming as this is my name with the exception of an “e” on the end of Ann for me. I responded to her text as I giggled to myself… 

On her drive to the gym, she called me, we discussed the cloning article and what our thoughts were about cloning and the impact on evolution. My initial thought was by cloning are we not in fact impacting future evolution and the natural order of things? Astutely she pointed out to me that humans have probably already messed with the black-footed ferret’s evolution and that is why it is has become endangered. Fair enough and point taken. Being of limited intellectual capacity I said to her that I was unsure how I felt about sharing my name with a ferret.  She sweetly consoled me by saying that it was “at least a cute” animal. Hmmmm, I remember kids taunting other classmates on the school playground calling them “ferret face.”  The compliment may be lost on me. I am still on the fence about this nod to the name Elizabeth Ann…. 

After we hung up while I still had some coffee in my white pottery mug, I started wondering about our human evolution and how it will be pandemically impacted? What has social distancing done to our evolution? A socially distant pandemic day in February in New England can last for what feels like dog years and I am not even a particularly “social” person. No wonder our life expectancy has gone south. Evolution or de-evolution? Haven’t quite decided yet and I am certain the jury will be out for a while as future generations unpack what this period of time has done to humankind. 

I do know that our remote living currently is on steroids. The odd package delivery arrives on our front porch well actually rarely on our front porch these days. Sometimes at the local post office that is not local anymore as renovations are underway at “our” post office. Many of our deliveries recently are delivered to and dumped on the high snowbank at the end of our plowed driveway. Yes, a somewhat long driveway but short by most Vermont standards. Just the other day I wrestled my way up the ice-covered snowbank higher than me as I tried to recover my dog’s 27.5 lb. bag of kibble. The words flew as my feet slipped. I have always been a good multitasker. I may have won the battle, but the war is far from over…

 A package arriving at or “near” our home is a big deal these days while we live socially distant. My husband and I anxiously wait for our orders. He a bit more than I. We think we are mindfully ordering things we need but I suspect it is more about having something new or different happen in our revolving days of sameness. A surprise. Surprises are coveted, rare and cherished at least the good ones are…

The disappointment is palpable when we recognize the package is for the other. Not necessarily the better half just the other half. Let’s leave it at that as we have been social distancing together for a very longggggggg time! The questions start. Who is it for? Is it for you? For me? I ordered something. I ordered something too. A competitive conversation of who ordered something first is wrestled out while the package is in play. What did you get? What is it?  When the package has my name on it, I grab and run like Gronk would after receiving a pass from Brady. I head to the semi privacy of our bedroom. If I make it to the inner sanctum of our room while closing the door behind me without a barrage of questions, touchdown!!!! In a small home with 24-hour togetherness nothing ensures complete privacy.  Privacy this past year is as a remote a concept as our Vermont living. 

The thirst of wanting to know something of the outside world other than Covid-19 updates and political turmoil is critical.  At the end of our respective workdays from separate ends of our home we catch up by asking. Who did you talk with today? What is new?  Everything ok with them? Sometimes I don’t even know who the person is, but it is conversation. So be it if the information is disseminated just from another house it is still different.  None of the questions we daily ask nor the answers we receive are going to win us a Nobel Prize but the survival of our “married” species and a socially distancing couple depend on it…

The sun is out this morning. I am hoping that it will warm the pavement and melt the layers of uninvited ice so I can go out for a run. I sure need it. Who knows maybe one of my remote neighbors will be out walking their dog and I will have something new to share when I get back home…?

                                                   Hope springs eternal….

Author: Elizabeth Ricketson

A graduate of Providence College with a BA in English, Elizabeth Ricketson has always had a love of literature and the fine arts. Elizabeth’s essays focus on life experiences and life in Vermont.

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