No question about it. We are living through difficult times on many levels; but our Miss Kiri Kat doesn’t quite see what all the fuss is about.
I’ll let her explain it to you in her own words.
“So what’s all this I keep hearing about a Coronavirus thingy? Isn’t a virus like a “bug” that you catch? I know how to deal with bugs when I catch them. Been doing it for years. I just pull off their legs (not tasty) and eat their bodies (quite tasty). Result – one tasty treat and one dead bug. Problem solved.
"Mom and Dad keep talking about how difficult things are for everyone, but to be honest, the only change I’ve noticed around here is that Mom and Dad are home all the time now, which means more lap time, play time, treats, pets and attention. And no more weekend trips to New York for the opera, which means they’re playing their music at home and now I get to enjoy it, too.
"My daily routine hasn’t changed either. I still sit on my fur throw in Dad’s armchair every morning and watch the birds.
"Then it’s time for my après-breakfast, mid-morning nap.
"And, of course, Mom is doing a lot more cooking so the house smells yummy all the time. Household chores still get done, which means there’s always a laundry basket full of warm clothes from the dryer to curl up in.
"Frankly, folks, from where I sit, things look pretty, darn good in Kiri Land.”
I only wish Mom and Dad could say the same. When the Met Opera season shut down, we lost four wonderful operas on our subscription.
Der Fliegende Holländer (The Flying Dutchman) was the first casualty.
|Photo by Beth Bergman|
La Cenerentola (Cinderella) was the second.
|Photo by Ken Howard|
Werther was the third, and
Tosca was the fourth.
Of course, we have all had to deal with stores and businesses closing, hoarders swooping in and depleting shelves of necessary goods for the rest of us and social isolation on a massive scale. Most people think of me as a social butterfly, but the truth is that I have a strong “hermit” streak in me and have always found periodic, self-imposed hibernation to be good for my soul. It recharges my batteries and re-centers my thoughts. That said, however, enforced isolation is beginning to get to me, too.
I keep in touch with friends and have a four-story townhouse to rattle around in, so I am luckier than the New Yorker or Parisian sitting 24/7 in a tiny studio apartment staring at the same four walls day in and day out. While I am getting a bit antsy to get out and about again, I do count my blessings, especially those unexpected ones from friends.
A beautiful bouquet arrived from my friend Anna, which I put in a Met Opera wine cooler. It sits on the credenza in my office and reminds me of all the natural and lyrical beauty just waiting to embrace me when this is all over.
And then there was this wonderful little book dropped at my door on a dreary, rainy day by my friend Andréa, the owner of the chicissime Maison Marcellé Boutique (See In My Own Backyard – Maison Marcellé) in town. She knew it was meant for me as soon as she saw it. Along with The Story of a Hundred Operas by Félix Mendelssohn, originally published in 1913, she slipped a Gift Certificate into my goodie bag. Of course the Boutique, along with just about everything else in town, is closed, but I will really need some retail therapy when this is over and I know just where to start.
So, as I said, I count my blessings – an intrepid husband willing to brave lines at the supermarket and get up at the crack of dawn for the privilege of doing so, thoughtful friends and a blissfully clueless Miss Kiri Kat whose warbles and purrs bring joy to my heart.
A Conversation Between Two Lonely Makeup Brushes
Blush Brush (“BB”): “I just don’t get it. We’ve been sitting here for months and months and she hasn’t even picked us up. Look at us!! All spiffy clean and we even put pretty ribbons around our necks -- still she ignores us. What’s going on?”
Powder Brush (“PB”): “You Blush Brushes can be so hyperbolic sometimes. Comes from all that colorful pigment you absorb, no doubt. I don’t think it’s been months and months; it just seems that way. I don’t know, but something’s wrong. She hasn’t been going anywhere lately.”
BB: “I know. No dinner parties, no restaurants, no operas, no weekends in New York. I miss New York. I always do an extra special job for her when we’re there so she can look her best. I take pride in my work. Of course, she’s been wearing her LeClerc coral lipstick every day. I hate that lipstick! She’s such a snob. I don’t like even being in the same makeup case with her, not that she ever deigns to speak to me.”
PB: “What do you expect? She’s French. All those French lipsticks are the same. Think they’re better than everyone else.”
BB: “I miss dipping my head in that beautiful peachy color she wears and rubbing it all over her soft cheeks.” (sigh!)
PB: “And I get to rub her whole face. I miss that, too.” (sigh!)
BB: “Do you think things will ever get back to normal?”
PB: “I certainly hope so. I need to get back to work.”