“If you’re going to face isolations and lockdowns, do your best to ensure it’s on a sunny lake.” – Old Sean
Lockdown Life
As mentioned in a previous post, some time ago, I returned to the United States to do the counter-instinctive: Find a place to settle in, pull my blanket up over my head and nestle like I’m getting paid for it.
Which I am.
Online work has always been a source of income in my life for the last three years, but now time spent earning digital tokens, coins and shreds of dollars is my largest daily time sink.
In off-hours, I write passively and occasionally hammer through a few lessons teaching myself code, a skill that’s rusted heavily in the past few years.
Unfortunately, my first choice of accommodation after returning to the US was unavailable. The man I was rooting for was sick and I’m also under the impression that his girlfriend doesn’t like me very much.
Regardless, I managed to reach out to an old champion from my high school days, Callum, and he’s allowing me to stay in a narrow bed at his parent’s lake house while America… just… Americas.
Adjusting to Stillness
There’s nothing to be said about America from the standpoint of this blog. History will lament or applaud the reaction, likely the former.
For me, I can only shake my head sadly as my home country flounders, whipping up a sensationalist storm, fanning political drama and general ignoring sounds science for conspiracy promotions and what can only be described as calculated presidential and governor tantrums.
I suppose a broken ship shows the most cracks during the storm.
I’m not idle or hopeless in the situation.
Currently, I pass out advice to numerous teachers moving to an online setting (as I’ve taught online for years now) and published short guides on setting up a home-office classroom and managing homework inputs in an environment where students are nearly solely responsible for their own education.
In the meantime, I’ve helped plant gardens and passed along my meager earnings to those who need it.
But overall, days pass slowly and while I observe self-quarantining practices with near-religious reverence, the situation stateside is running bleak.
The coronavirus and its ramifications are well beyond control and using experts as indicators, I don’t think it’ll slow or stall any time soon.
Life in Texas
In other news, Callum has provided me with supremely comfortable lodgings. I can do curbside pickup for all my groceries while making occasional runs to far-flung ATM’s to withdraw my earnings from China.
I’m currently camped on the edge of a large, very serene lake.
Neighbors generally wave at one another but rarely come close. Boats skim across the water surfaces and two days in three brings beautiful Texas spring weather. Birds are numerous and vocal and Callum has a pair of kayaks I take out on the lake every chance I get.
Going upstream has brought me past sunning turtles, nesting geese, somewhat dank woodlands, confused ducks and a wind funnel that catches bees, causing the insects to flounder in the water.
I sometimes pause to fish bees out of the water and they serve as my de facto masthead until they masthead until they vibrate themselves dry and buzz off. The sunrises are stunning, my walks through the neighborhood leave me with a constant, slightly pink skin hue and local dogs often offer their enthusiastic hellos while a local black pig also creeps close while staying slightly wearier.
There are bonfires we stand on top of with flip flops in a bizarre method for staving off boredom and wildflowers are in full riot. Everything not blooming is devastatingly lush and green. With dense pollen in the air, I sneeze hourly, scaring all the neighbors.
Lockdown Regime
Otherwise, my regiment has become increasingly strict. I’ve been isolated before, the worst case during the bitterly cold winter months in Hohhot, China. At that time, only the most monumental boredom could force me outside into the chill grip of cutting winter.
Despite the somewhat isolated hardships involved, my time in Hohhot did have the advantage of prepping me for another, far longer quarantine.
Alcohol is only permitted once per week, on Friday. Missing the day means no other chances until next week. Sugary sweets are a treat only allowed on the fourteenth of a month and breads are virtually prohibited, except on Saturdays.
I wake up at 5 AM for online work virtually every day and 5 AM on off days to maintain the schedule. Every evening after dinner I call a friend or acquaintance through social media for my peace of mind and to get a lock on happenings across the planet.
The lack of news on my part would normally gall me and spur me into action. But thus far, I’m comfortable and my previously unending adventure since December from Shanghai to Nanjing to Da Nang to Bali and across Japan to shelter in Vietnam before hiking Arkansas and rushing back to Texas has scratched my travel bug for the first three months of this year.
Besides, it’s okay to turtle up. I’m sure I’ll go stir crazy eventually and do something ill-advised within the year. But until then,
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written June 17th 2020
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I bought this Horizon Hound Trek Blanket for a late-autumn trek in the United States. Since then, it’s gone everywhere with me. The blanket is lightweight, stuff-able, warm and durable. But my favorite features are the buttons. The blanket can be buttoned up the sides, turning it into a long thermal poncho when I don’t want to leave the warmth of my bed.
