Home, Sweet Home

Hello, friends. Adam and I went to Chattanooga for a visit with the kids (AND ISAAC, OF COURSE!!), and now we are home again. Like you, we're wondering how much "home" will play a part of our lives in the coming weeks, or even months. Coronavirus seems to have taken the mind of the world by storm. Some things seem certain though:
1) It will spread, and then it will decline.
2) Many of us will get ill. Very few will die.
3) We want to slow down the spread, for the sake of our hospitals and everyone.
4) We have to adjust our lives for a while.

For a while. This too shall pass. Life will go back to its usual: Hectic. Boring. Routine. Same old same old.

One thing's been bothering me -- why is it that I get the feeling that humans somehow like a good catastrophe? I don't mean we have a death wish, but just that we really want (enjoy?) the occasional massive disruption to our lives. The way we rush to shop. The way we seem to come alive for a disaster. It reminds me of Y2K. I knew a family, who had never before canned anything, but for Y2K they canned meat. Meat! They were united in their anticipation of a good hunkering down and were deflated when it came to naught. I remember the wife's dismay when she realized she'd be throwing out all that canned meat, because they weren't eating it -- it was nasty!

Of course, Covid-19 is already much worse than Y2K, and I think it is indeed a worldwide emergency. However, not all areas will be impacted. Every square inch of the U.S. is not going to be like Milan or Wuhan or Kirkland, WA. High-density populations will be hit harder. A certain percentage of the population -- 40%? 60% -- will get the viral illness. Some will end up being protected by herd immunity as it passes over us like the Angel of Death in Egypt. 

We've stocked up. We're hand-washing. But for now, we're also still going to our local eateries to support them at a time when some customers might avoid a restaurant, even one in a county with no virus cases where only 25 people can fit in the dining room. I never thought there would be an advantage to having a church with only 20 people on a good Sunday, but now I know -- it's a good number for a time like this. We'll have our service tomorrow and evaluate week by week. We'll wash hands. We'll pray.

Can we get all the sick people to stay home? Can we get testing and accurate information? Can our economy coast through the coming weeks? Will our hospitals be overwhelmed? I'm glad to be home. Here's some photos from lately -- I've been quite bad about posting on the blog!
A few cards:

 This one was for my mother for her birthday:

 Chattanooga:

 I love this photo of Kara and Isaac, looking at cars out the window.

 Beau was exhausted by his week with dog-cousins.

Y'all stay healthy. Wash those hands. 

Stay home within reason.