Plague Diary Excerpts (Part 1 of 2) (Kovacik)

March 24, 2020

Yesterday I attended a Graduate Faculty Council meeting on Zoom—knitted a few inches of a scarf during it and managed my hourly steps.

The [Indiana] governor issued a shelter-in-place declaration, which nonetheless had a lot of loopholes like ”look in on family members and friends.” Walking outdoors is still allowed, and many were out in the afternoon: older couples, parents with kids, people with dogs. We maintained “social distance,” though we smiled, gently, gravely. I crossed Pennsylvania St. numerous times to give people space.

March 27, 2020

This a.m. set the alarm for 7 to go to senior shopping at Fresh Thyme. As usual, I brought several bags—three I could throw in the washer and one I could spray with disinfectant—but was stopped at the door. A young woman kindly informed me customers could no longer bring in reusable bags. Once in, I initially forgot to wipe off my cart—went back and did so. The meat department is still diminished, though there were a few more items: breakfast sausage, bacon-infused turkey patties, salmon of anonymous provenance. I ended up buying no meat, except for smoked salmon. Will make eggplant parmesan today. Stocked up on broth, milk, yogurt, o.j., and other staples. Still no t.p.

Boris Johnson, the UK prime minister, has tested positive for the coronavirus, as has Prince Charles. Angela Merkel of Germany is in quarantine. Indiana University is asking us to share files in case any of us becomes incapacitated.

March 30, 2020

Two days ago, when walking through the neighborhood, I noticed an inflatable of Will Ferrell in Elf, wearing his ridiculous codpiece and yellow tights, green Santa’s helper jacket, and pointed cap, clapping his hands in manic delight, but also something else: terror? An amusing commentary on our current moment. Risked going into Fresh Thyme yesterday to see if the Hefe Weizen with grapefruit I have come to love was in stock. Nope.

April 1, 2020

Chris Cuomo of CNN has tested positive for COVID. The musician John Prine is critically ill of it. Meanwhile, in Italy, a 101-year-old man, born during the last pandemic, recovered from it. As many as 2.2 million Americans might contract it, thanks to our federal government’s slow response and the decentralized delegating to state authorities. In Florida, for instance, the governor has not mandated shelter in place.

April 3, 2020

Yesterday, I ordered two Edgar Allan Poe face masks, as it is now recommended we cover our mouths and noses in public. One still has to insert filters of some sort, and I’m wondering if coffee filters might do the trick as I still have a bunch in my cabinet.

A handful of us filmed the Palm Sunday Mass in both Spanish and English at St. Mary, I the English-language narrator for the Passion. I got to receive the Eucharist and took a pyx with the bread for Abidé and Eduardo, though because of social distancing, when I handed it to them, I did not say the prayer.

April 4, 2020
What’s happening in New York is a heartbreak and a scandal: refrigerated morgue trucks, the death toll doubling in forty-eight hours. Trump accused hospitals of hoarding personal protective equipment (gowns and masks) as well as ventilators for those who have the most severe form of the disease. His son-in-law Jared Kushner argued that the federal stockpile of PPE should not go to the states because it’s “federal”—in direct contradiction of the agency’s stated policy. Twenty-four hours later, the agency’s website was changed to reflect Kushner’s pronouncement—as in a banana or Soviet republic.

In the evening I made a Lenten meal of brown-rice-scallion-spinach pancakes, then shared with my colleague Estela a Box folder should I become incapacitated.

April 5, 2020

Yesterday, for the first time, I masked myself to go out in public. Many at Fresh Thyme were similarly attired. I was good about not touching my face while wearing it, and although everyone says the masks are to protect others, not the self, I felt less vulnerable or, put another way, I realized the extent of how susceptible I’d been feeling. One four-pack of grapefruit-spiked Hefe Weizen was left—first thing in my cart. Also wore some silly cheap plastic gloves. The store was much better stocked on a Saturday afternoon than on Friday a.m. during “senior hour.” Good to know!

April 13, 2020

Drizzle this morn, and yesterday, Easter was mostly overcast and rainy, though with a high close to 60. I put most of the plants in the house on the deck, including the kale and geranium I had overwintered. The flat-leaf parsley and rosemary from the garage also went out to get rain and what little sun there was.

In the morning, I baked my babka wreath, which turned out to be more of a weird heart shape. But the house smelled heavenly, thanks to that trifecta of yeast, chocolate, and cinnamon.

My task yesterday was to write a tribute or memorial for Jim to be read at the School of Liberal Arts’ faculty assembly. Rhetorically, it was not easy, given my recent sorting through his papers, where I found a story of his that made me jealous and a bunch of macho letters he wrote while young. I felt myself falling again for the bad boy he once was, even as I don’t wish sick Jimmy back alive during this pandemic. The guilty secret is that part of me is glad to have the house to myself, the TV off most of the day.

The whole family (minus my brother John, who doesn’t have internet) got together on Go to Meeting for an Easter conversation.

April 16, 2020

Yesterday, I again worked on my will. Finally, I think, have nailed down most of my beneficiaries. Half-assedly graded the Gay discussion. Walked. Increasingly, there are self-congratulatory yard signs with the slogan: “Thank you to the essential. Our community stays home for you.” Meanwhile, in Michigan yesterday, a bunch of libertarians and Trump supporters (3000+) staged a rally protesting the governor’s stay-at-home order, even though that state currently has 27,000 cases.

 Karen Kovacik authored the poetry collections Metropolis Burning and Beyond the Velvet Curtain. Her work as a poet and translator has received numerous honors, including the Charity Randall Citation from the International Poetry Forum and two National Endowment for the Arts fellowships in literary translation. She’s the translator most recently of Jacek Dehnel’s Aperture, a finalist for the 2019 PEN Award for Poetry in Translation, and the editor of the anthology of Polish women poets, Scattering the Dark. Professor of English at Indiana University Purdue University Indianapolis, she served as Indiana’s Poet Laureate from 2012-2014.