Planning For Days To Come

Our snowy Canadian retreat.

I have forgotten what day and week of social isolation/distancing we are in. I am reminded it is April 1st, only because Instagram tells me so, but my normal markers of time are all thrown off. I rely on KWeeks and his schedule to let me know when the weekend is, but in the words of Morrissey, every day feels like Sunday.

But, shockingly, I believe in dreams. In my very best moments, when I am not beset by the constant thrum of anxiety, I like to imagine and plan and design and create.

Side note: all of the posts talking about how you should stay busy and MAKE THE BEST WORK OF YOUR LIFE can fuck right off, though. Right now I am just trying to find my ass with both hands, and that’s the best I can do most days when so many uncertainties are afloat.

But I digress.

If I can, for just a few moments, put aside the facts of the day, the very horror that is not only this lurking virus but also the dawning realization that no one in our government gives a rat’s ass, so long as we KEEP SPENDING MONEY, then I can magically transport myself to sunnier times.

Like this.

grey concrete floor with masking tape outlining the floorplan of a small house
And so it begins.

This is the basic floor plan of the house that we will build in Canada. We taped it out at Khristian’s studio this morning, against official orders to stay at home. This was not a strictly essential trip, as the state defines it, but we saw no one and properly sanitized ourselves before, during, and after our foray.

The cabin will be hand-built and 144 square feet. To the right, between the two unconnected taped lines, there will be a large glass window overlooking the Bay of Fundy. All of the other necessaries are there, too (bed, kitchen area, wood stove), and we will eventually build a walkway to another platform so we can watch the seals and pilot whales as they rest in the Bay.

For now, it was enough to get the outline of the place and to imagine drinking coffee, overlooking our foggy spot, or falling asleep to the glow of the stove and the light of the moon.

One day, Canada will open back up to filthy Americans such as ourselves, and we will travel gratefully north to start construction.

The state of Maryland may not feel that today’s trip was essential, but for me it was. It was essential to remind myself that there is work to be done, things to create, and lands to see.

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