Day 8 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Connections

Bonjour tous le monde!  (Hello everybody!)

We can see the post office from our house
A policeman is monitoring how close people stand

 I'm so glad we are connected!  We are still doing fine chez-nous and hope you are keeping well also.  The sun peeked through the clouds today and although it's a bit nippy outside, We can feel the warmth of your good wishes.  (Not to mention how much we love everyone's comments and messages.  Merci!)


Day 8 - I woke early but I stayed under the warmth of the covers and wondered what kind of day it would be.  Then I remembered. It would be another day spent in semi-confinement.  But it also would be a day filled with thoughts about others and time spent with my sweet Frenchman.  It would be a good day.

I reached over and turned on my phone.  I read the news and sighed.  Then I checked in with a

Our usually busy main street
where three cafes should be.

couple of friends who are in nearby countries.  Thankfully neither of them had anybody they know or love who is ill.  We sent texts back and forth and along with wishes for a good day,  and hopes that this will begin to slow down.  The hospitals in England are crowded and I'm sure ours will soon be.  I noticed that both my friends said the same thing we are all are saying - Isn't it quiet out in the streets?

The friend who lives near London said, "I just heard an airplane.  There's another one!  I never heard them before."  She suggested that perhaps they had changed their flight path.  Then we couldn't help thinking that they had probably been there every day, but with all the other city noises, it had become part of the hum.   I wondered who in the world was flying but then remembered what my dad told me.  Most of airplanes still flying are carrying freight.  That makes sense - like the truck drivers, they are essential in our inter-connected world.  People say we should stop all this international trade.  But how in the world can we do that?  It's very complicated.  So many lives depend on the businesses that sell these things all over the world.

At the greengrocers a sign asks
customers not to touch the produce.
Actually it says: Touch nothing!

I played some word games with other friends and then read through Facebook.  All my friends in the States had been busy while I slept, posting what they were doing, what they were thinking, making comments and basically checking in with the world.  Feeling happier knowing they were all still there, I stretched and got up.  

We started our day with a smile and a kiss then my partner, Y, opened the shutters.  There was sunshine.  Hurrah!  We finished breakfast to discover a couple who are both writers and neighbors were brightening up the lives of people in our village.  They came down our street and left a gift of bakery cookies on our mail box - they only rang the bell and then left.  We got the text message later to let us know it was from them. So thoughtful and sweet.  That is truly the spirit of sharing!

The courtyard by the church is empty

When I thanked her, DL said that they did it to cheer people up - not only the friends, but to cheer themselves as well.  And that, mes amis, is how we will get through this difficult time.  By keeping ourselves positive and connected -  all the while respecting the distance it takes to keep this virus from spreading any faster than it already has.

We filled in the dates on our sworn statements of déplacement and we'd heard on tv that we were supposed to start adding the time as we left the house, we did.  My partner, Y said, "If we see the flicks, you must be far away from me and pretend you don't know me.  That way even if one of us gets checked they may not realize we are from the same address."  I looked at him and did not burst out laughing.  It has only been advised that a single member goes out to shop. But it is not the law - not yet.  And it is exercise.  Why did I want to giggle? I just loved the fact that he had said, "les Flics"(which is slang for cops)  to describe the gendarmes and police who are keeping us all safe.  It's funny because my partner is a retired gendarme.

Reining in the urge to laugh, I said, "It will be more simple if we take different routes.  I'll go

via the citadel wall steps to the newsagents for a paper. You take the rue de la république to the bakery for our bread."  He nodded and we headed on in opposite directions.  The stairway was probably once one of the entries to the walled city.  I love the old stone walls with doors set here and there within the passage.  I noticed that the man who usually practices his classical guitar there was absent. 

 Two minutes later, as Y approached the bakery and I stood before the newsagents, he winked at me.  Yes, they are in the same street, separated only by a small bespoke restaurant.  I gave him a toss of my head and went in to buy the paper.  Last week I bought Le Monde, today I picked up Le Parisian.  I find it easier to read, though it's a lot less paper.  The lady at the cashier looked at the date on the paper said, "It's hard to know whether it's Tuesday or Wednesday now that there is no market on Saturdays and Wednesdays to mark the days."  I agreed.

By this time it was nearly lunchtime.  We met up again in the beautiful plaza where the museum stands.  The flowers and sunshine made it seem like everything was normal.  How I

The museum plaza

wish it was!  But as this is not the case, we headed home and made lunch.

The phone rang.  It was the hardware store.  In a conversation that seemed surreal, we were asked what time we could pick up our order of paint.  When we said anytime we were given instructions: "Come to the parking lot (in my mind, the words "Alone!" were added just like in every good nefarious telephone call)  Then wait in your car until exactly 14:25.  Come to the front door but do not knock.  You will pay only by debit card.  Do not be late.  There will be others after you.  Do not stop to talk to them... no contact.”

Transactions in the Hardware parking lot

 
Seriously, it felt very clandestine. We drove into the lot at 14:24.  There was a guy loading his order into the trunk of the car.  The store looked deserted and closed but the lights were on.  Then I saw someone looking out. A woman pulled up in her car.  We didn't speak.  This all felt very black market.  Then it was our turn. I wanted to sidle up to the door and speak out of the side of my mouth, "Got paint?"  "Yeah, how many liters?"  "Watcha got?"  Anyway, that wasn't
what happened, of course.  I waited in the car and Y got the paint.  Now we will have something to do if the lock-down goes on into the next month, which seems very likely.

We shopped at the big Intermarché which is across the street and this time it was a very serious outing.  The line was orderly - 1 person, 1 cart and two meters apart.  Only 100 people can be in

Waiting in line to wash the cart handle

the store at a time, so we waited (separately) for half an hour.  Disinfect the cart handle before going into the aisles.  Under supervision.

Once inside I headed to the food section while Y went to find a few books.  He definitely has a heavy book habit.  This writer finds that absolutely adorable!  I couldn't find the "galettes" (crepes made with buckwheat for dinner) and it struck me that this was the perfect excuse to text my "boyfriend" so I did.  He said he would find them.  Connected.  It's like magic.

We did our shopping by text and eventually checked out in different lines.  We didn't buy a lot.  Just fresh things and a few books. The car was unloaded and parked. 

Walking back

I'm sure it's just me who finds this  amusing.  It's for
locking your bike up at the train station.  The P is for park
but somehow I always see a different word when I walk by.

to the house, I heard the sound of different kinds of smart phone pinging from many windows.  And I smiled.  The pings were messages being received and no doubt being answered.  It's the connection we all have now.  Messenger, Facebook, WhatsApp, Instagram, and tons of others.  Soon, my dad will call me on Skype and we will be connected.  Just as I am connected with you as I write this.  

It's days like these that make us realize how precious our lives are.  Suddenly we are all working to keep it going.  We are working together tand keeping each other safe.  So keep on being safe, nos amis.  And stay connected.  We can do this.  Together!

Walking back to the house

À demain!    Link to DAY 9