Nothing was really jumping out at me, until we were just getting ready to leave and the sales person moved a black, velvet tray to reveal a large, stunning, sterling silver Buddha ring. I had to try it on. While a little big for the ring or pointer finger on my left had, it seemed made for the middle finger. What it wasn’t made for was my wallet. Being approximately an inch long and solid, this gorgeous, hefty ring came with a heft price tag. Sadly, I gave Buddha back.

Over the next few days, however, I couldn’t stop thinking about the ring. Thoughts of it would pop into my head randomly. After three days of this, I decided to see if they would still honor the discount they had offered me over the weekend. I would then inform my family that they didn’t need to buy my any birthday presents if they just wanted to contribute to the ring, instead.

Armed with my credit card and a plan, I entered Oddemporium on a high note, which was shortly deflated as I was informed that a previous employee had been in, loved the ring, and purchased it for their girlfriend. So I spent 30 minutes looking at consolation rings, then went home empty handed, berating myself for not just purchasing the ring the first time I saw it. My girlfriend wisely stated, “If it was meant to be yours, it would still have been there.” She’s wise like that.

Time went on (ok, actually just a few weeks passed) and it was my birthday dinner. Giving presents over champagne, my brother hands over this small gift bag, mumbling something out it “not being a big deal” (he’s not one for shows of emotion). Excited to see what he got me, I gently opened the bag to discover my gorgeous, hefty Buddha ring. After a few moments of staring at it in disbelief, I burst into tears. It was the most thoughtful gift, and I was moved beyond words.

How did this come to be, you ask? Let’s rewind to the Saturday, a few week previous, when I first became enthralled. That night, my brother, his wife, and I were playing poker with our poker group, and I shared the story of the afternoon and the amazing ring I decided not to purchase. The next day, my brother and his wife went into every antique store along Broadway’s “antique row,” looking for the ring, to no avail. They had one more shop to go before they called it quits—the Oddemporium—where they found my ring, purchased it (I hope at a discount!) and kept it a secret for two weeks at poker!

I guess it was meant to be mine all along.

For anyone who knows the basics of Buddhism, you will see the irony in this story. The Second Noble Truth of Buddhism is that suffering is caused by desire and grasping. Which I was clearly demonstrating in my desire and grasping for, of all things, a Buddha ring. And while I’m fascinated by Buddha and Buddhism, I don’t regret my desire for the ring, nor the fact that it’s sitting on my finger and bringing me a little peace of mind when I reflect on it. Alas, I have a long way to go to be enlightened.

Suffering is caused by desire and grasping.

Chris woke up Sunday not feeling great. We chalked it up to an amazingly busy three days of deck the balls-to-the-wall holiday bartending. Unfortunately, as the day went on and he added fever and congestion to the aches and pains he was experiencing, we knew it was more than just old age + bartending. Fast forward 24 hours, a full-on sleepfest, and continued fever, and it was obvious the jig was up. Tuesday morning’s test results came back positive. After 19 months, Chris has Covid.

It’s hard to live in a house with someone who has Covid. It’s hard to have Covid and live with other people that you don’t want to make sick. People get frustrated. Tempers flare. No one likes to be followed with a can of Lysol. No one likes to be told “stay in your room and stop touching shit!” And we really don’t like to have to wear a mask in our own homes. But that’s what we do, to keep the ones we love safe.

Miraculously, the one person in the house with asthma and shitty-weak lungs has tested negative (THANK YOU BOOSTER!), as well as the teen (who’s never home, so that probably helped). So we’re a house divided — Johnsons 2, Covid 2.

This year, our Christmas plans have changed quite a bit. No week of Christmas outings. No grandma over on Christmas Eve to watch “White Christmas.” No outside family over for dinner Christmas day. This year, mom and my brother will be over Christmas morning for presents and to set up Jonah’s gift. There will be isolation — Covid sickies in the living room and the rest of us in the dining room — and masks. It will be weird. But it will be a Christmas.

Chris and Jonah are both better, and while it sucks to be sick, it could have been a lot worse (THANK YOU VACCINATIONS!). There are wonderful gifts, we will make a wonderful meal for the four of us in the house, and we will live to celebrate another holiday.

Make the yuletide gay!

For the three people who will actually read this, have yourself a merry little Christmas. Make the yuletide gay! Whatever that means to you, I hope your celebration is full of joy, love, and food. (And if you haven’t gotten your booster yet, just do it!).

February 28: This is about when we really started to sit up and take notice. Of course the memes started flying about the #covidiots who believed that novel coronavirus was spread by the beer.

End of February/Beginning of March: It still seems like this isn’t going to be a big deal. Sure, there are a lot of cases in CA, WA, and NY, but they’ll be able to take care of it and it will be business as usual. Besides, we have a Bernie/Biden situation to resolve as we try to get the dumptrump out of office. So to be safe, #washyourdamnhands #donttouchyourface

March 7: I’m off to Hawaii! Because who doesn’t want to get on a plane with 500 other people at the start of a pandemic? It’s cute how naive we were back then (20 whole days ago). I did take the precaution of changing my return flight to a direct flight and skipping the 3-hour layover at LAX. Safety first people! The slower than normal airport and the only 2/3 full flight are a few indications that people are starting to get a little skittish.

Also March 7: As I get settled into my island paradise hotel, I’m getting text messages from some friends. Apparently, there are three things you need to combat coronavirus: cleaning supplies, water, and toilet paper. (As indicated by the run on these items from all grocery stores, drugstores, and convenience stores.) At this time there are approximately 8–9 confirmed cases. Shit’s getting real! Time to hoard the TP and supplies people!

March 9: Things are still going on, but I’m on Oahu, swimming with the turtles! Basically giving coronavirus the finger, as I stick a random snorkel into my mouth.

March 12: I’m coming back home on the overnight flight. This one is pretty full and the mood is fairly jovial. Since we’ve all been in paradise, what’s been happening on the mainland seems so far away, and we have no idea what we’re coming home to:

• No toilet paper
• No soap or cleaning supplies
• No groceries
• An increasing number of Covid-19 cases (but no way to know for sure how many people are really infected because no once can get fucking tested)

March 13: Colorado reported its first COVID-19-related death: an 80-year-old woman with underlying health issues from El Paso County. We also received notification that Denver Public Schools would be starting spring break a week early and would extend until April 7. Yippee! Both boys home for two full weeks (said no mom ever!).

March 15: Chris and I head to the store, not really believing the reports of no food and no toilet paper. I mean, this is America. Come on!

$460 later, we have some food for (hopefully) a few weeks and will be basically cooking every meal like we’ve just opened a Chopped ingredient basket.

Sometime the middle of March: Our new safe phrase is “social distancing,” which if you live under a rock is the act of staying 6-feet away from each other. #washyourdamnhands #donttouchyourface #getthefuckawayfromme

At this point, cities and states are starting to take action that will slow down the spread of the virus. Our new favorite hashtag: #flattenthecurve

March 16: Chris gets an unplanned and unpaid 8-week vacation, as Denver Mayor Hancock has closed all bars and restaurants, with the exception of take-out. Hooray! Both boys and my husband home for who knows how long!

March 19ish: Some states are taking more extreme measures on their own, as there’s no guidance from the White House. For example, IL and CA have instituted a “shelter in place” order, meaning you can’t go anywhere unless it’s essential, like the grocery store or the doctor.

March 23: Denver Mayor Hancock, taking his lead from other great cities, issues Denver’s “shelter in place” mandate. His mandate states that liquor stores and recreational dispensaries are not considered “essential.” In a hilarious turn of events, people started “…swarming their neighborhood liquor stores…in response — and violating social distancing requirements while they were at it — with some stores reporting lines forming a block long just 15 minutes after the mayor’s press conference.”

In the quickest end to prohibition in history, Mayor Hancock reversed his decision about 90 minutes later. So in Denver, we can still get our drink and our smoke on.

March 25: Not to be outdone, Governor Polis put the state of Colorado in complete lock-down, with a Stay-at-home order through April 11.

Also March 25: We went 10 full days eating every meal at home! For the first time since March 15, Chris gets Santiago’s take-out. Fuck I miss green chili!

March 27: And that’s where we are. The past 29 days. You can shelter in place with your toilet paper. I’ll be over here drinking my wine.

Zachary is learning a valuable lesson–that sometimes mom knows best.

Had he listened to me and put his brand new $100 bill away when I told him to, it wouldn’t have fallen out of his pocket. And he wouldn’t have mowed over it. What makes it heartbreaking for me is that this is $100 he earned himself, mowing lawns. As much as I want to simply replace it, I know that I would be doing him a disservice if I did. If I dropped a hundred dollar bill on the street and walked away, no one’s going to give me another one. Hopefully, my bank will take pity on him and swap the pieces of his shredded bill for a new one (I think we’re close to 50%). Otherwise, my heart will hurt because he’s upset. But I bet that next time I tell him to do something important, he listens to me.

–John Lennon

Tonight we watched the very first episode, “Days Gone Bye.”

When it first started, I was questioning my parental choices. But once he started commenting on all the underlying themes, and noticing things that a lot of adults I know wouldn’t catch, I relaxed. Granted, this is episode 1, and there’s a lot of shit that goes down between then and now. But after watching the news with him, which covered ebola, ISIL (ISIS??) beheadings, Ferguson, and the teen who was shot in his own home, I think a little fake zombie apocalypse is just what’s needed to lighten the mood.

Besides, if there’s anyone I want with me when the zombie apocalypse does go down, it’s The Goose. He named every gun, helicopter, and military vehicle that appeared in tonight’s episode.