Life in the Time of Covid

Nineteen days into voluntary isolation, I reach to the back of the freezer for some ginger and discover two bags of sweet pepper, one green, and one red. It’s Christmas! Like many trapped in this stagnant lull, I have put on some weight. The more I focus on making do, the faster I eat down my stash.

I picture five strangers in a floating prison with four gallons of water and three weeks of rations, stonily regarding the infinite, blue seascape. Conversation long ago exhausted, their eyes shift from the tarp covering their meager supply to the deepening lines in each other’s faces, and back to the sea of undrinkable water.

My browser feeds me news of asymptomatic ballplayers and senators testing positive for Covid-19 while the untested hoi polloi hover in limbo, staring at their kitchen cupboards. A family in Freehold, New Jersey, my childhood stomping grounds, is paying the ultimate price for honoring their Sunday dinner tradition. The matriarch and three of her eleven children have died, while others wait out their infection.

Read more: http://troutsfarm.com/PFA/2020/03/24/adrift-in-a-sea-of-plenty/

Bob and Camille at home in North Carolina.

This is a pointer to our blog, Plastic Farm Animals which lives on a Wordpress site.

We write an interesting mix of scathing social commentary and observations gleaned from routine activities, local community involvement, and occasional adventures. Our first entry tells the story behind the name.

Since starting Plastic Farm Animals on Maui, we have lived in Nicaragua, Alaska, Colorado, Texas, North Carolina, and West Africa. We've been blogging since 2004 with no plans of stopping as of September 2014.