Last night I went to bed at 11pm, woke up at 6am and got up at 7am.
Today is a holiday here; St. Joseph’s Day. This was supposed to be the last day of my chess tournament before things got crazy.
“FEMA Administrator Peter T. Gaynor said Sunday the president has not yet invoked the Defense Production Act, which would allow the government to order companies to ramp up the production of ventilators and protective masks, among other products.” WTF is he waiting for?
Teresa is listening on her cell phone to a doctor in Spain who is mad because they don’t have enough respirators for their patients.
On the afternoon news, they covered the following topics (I learned mainly from reading sub-titles): ceptions to the Colombia-wide quarantine; travelers returning to Bogota; declared a prison emergency; details of attempted jail escape; Colombias 3rd virus death is in Santa Marta; constructing ICUs for virus patients; putting up isolation tents in Cucuta; Barranquilla adapting a hospital for virus patients; first virus case in San Andres; showed empty streets in Madrid, Spain; European market losses on Wall street; cell services increasing their services; supermarket prices; farmers working hard to keep food supply moving; 354,000 cases worldwide; DT states that after 15 days a decision needs to be made; Congress searching for a concensus; Miami and LA look deserted; monks in Thailand make facemasks; 77 cases in Venezuela.
Per a US Embassy email: Colombia has instituted a nationwide “stay at home” mandatory preventive isolation until 12am Monday, April 13. Individuals over 70 are expected to self-quarantine through May.
About 6:30 Teresa had ME take the garbage out. I had to take the elevator down to the garage level and walk to the other side and put it in a bin. Luckily, I didn’t run into anyone on the way to or from.
Applause again at 8pm.
The US had 100 deaths today. That’s 33,000+ cases and 400+ deaths total.
Per the nightly news Spain has 462 deaths and Italy is up to 602.
More 8pm applause for the healthcare workers.
I finished reading Nicholas Sparks’ Message in a Bottle.
2,007 steps today. Well, I guess I can get about 2,000 steps if I stay in the apt all day. I don’t think there’s any reason to continue to wear my step counter since I’m self-quarantined so I won’t be reporting on this anymore for a while.
Joke of the day
It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.
My name is Roger Lesch. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Peggy.
When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Peggy to get a full-time job, along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed.
Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work. Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table.
I generally have lunch each day in the Men's Grille at the Golf Club, so eating out is not an option in the evening. I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door. She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now, it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.
Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two, or even three days. That way, she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.
When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. For example, she had to take a break when she was only half-finished mowing the front lawn. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man... I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.
I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Peggy. I'm not saying that showing this much patience & consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible !!!! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, guys, if you even use just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.
EDITOR'S NOTE:
Roger Lesch died suddenly on January 31, of a perforated rectum.
The police report says he was found with a Calloway extra-long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his rear end, with barely 5 inches of grip showing, and a sledge hammer laying nearby.
His wife Peggy was arrested and charged with murder. The all-woman jury took only 10 minutes to find her Not Guilty - - accepting her defense that Roger, somehow without looking, accidentally sat down on his golf club.
A hole in one, so to speak !!!!
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