The Cranes Will Have to Wait
After agonizing deliberation and talking with close friends, I decided to cancel my Nebraska trip. My gut is telling me to stay put, so I'm going to listen and hang out here at home. The cranes will be there next year, and hopefully I will be, too.
I have a dear, dear friend in Spain, and she just learned her semester is over. She has been ordered to return home pronto. My college has asked that she self-quarantine once home. Her husband and four-year-old twins are with her. I cannot imagine the worry, fear, and frustration she must be experiencing right now, trying to get everything packed up, to the airport, then home before tomorrow.
Another friend just returned from France. She, too, has been asked to self-quarantine.
One university here has extended spring break another week, and all students are not to return to campus until further notice. All classes will be online until at least April 12.
Another university here has called back all students studying abroad.
My trip to Texas in three weeks has been canceled. PTK Catalyst, a huge annual event with students from around the world, advised the hotel hosting the event to cancel all reservations. Our registration fees will be refunded.
My college is currently working on how it is going to respond to students returning from spring break.
This all seems so surreal.
I have had to impose limits on myself regarding reading the news. The lack of leadership by those we pay big bucks to, the lack of common sense of the general public, and the few who have been diagnosed with the virus but insist on going out to events anyway -- these just infuriate me. So I've stopped reading the news.
For now, I'll just read the books stacked by my chair. The one I started about a week ago is Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. I can only read a little bit at a time because of the depth of human cruelty described. That one might have to wait for now. I think lighter reading is definitely a must.
As are long walks with Ado. Sitting on the back deck. Maybe baking some bread.
I have a dear, dear friend in Spain, and she just learned her semester is over. She has been ordered to return home pronto. My college has asked that she self-quarantine once home. Her husband and four-year-old twins are with her. I cannot imagine the worry, fear, and frustration she must be experiencing right now, trying to get everything packed up, to the airport, then home before tomorrow.
Another friend just returned from France. She, too, has been asked to self-quarantine.
One university here has extended spring break another week, and all students are not to return to campus until further notice. All classes will be online until at least April 12.
Another university here has called back all students studying abroad.
My trip to Texas in three weeks has been canceled. PTK Catalyst, a huge annual event with students from around the world, advised the hotel hosting the event to cancel all reservations. Our registration fees will be refunded.
My college is currently working on how it is going to respond to students returning from spring break.
This all seems so surreal.
I have had to impose limits on myself regarding reading the news. The lack of leadership by those we pay big bucks to, the lack of common sense of the general public, and the few who have been diagnosed with the virus but insist on going out to events anyway -- these just infuriate me. So I've stopped reading the news.
For now, I'll just read the books stacked by my chair. The one I started about a week ago is Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. I can only read a little bit at a time because of the depth of human cruelty described. That one might have to wait for now. I think lighter reading is definitely a must.
As are long walks with Ado. Sitting on the back deck. Maybe baking some bread.
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