A little bit of weed & whiskey

Well, isn’t this a fine kettle of fish?

Dale and I feel pretty good about riding out the storm at home. We can sit here and look out the window if we have to. Our finances are conservatively invested, and the hit to our portfolio has not been as bad as you might think.

The bank is always bugging us about keeping too much cash in our savings account, but here we are, and I don’t hate that money sitting there minding its own business and earning nothing. We’re debt-free and won’t need to dip into the portfolio for a couple more years.

As for day-to-day inconveniences, my health club closed, so no swimming for me. The golf course is still open, but I’ve canceled my participation in all group golf events. I’m getting refunds, and I can use the money to supplement my escalating digital entertainment budget.

I’m continuing to play golf during non-peak hours, walking with my personal pushcart and keeping my distance from fellow players. No clubhouse antics afterward. I prefer a solitary round of golf anyway, and I like to get out of there when I’m done, so it’s not exactly a sacrifice.

Oh, and I wish the elbow bump had been invented years ago. I can’t tell you how many men have crushed my wrists with their manly handshakes.

It’s funny – I rather enjoyed deleting all the events on my calendar. There’s nothing on there until a dentist appointment in June, and even that may go away. I love looking at month after month of emptiness.

The food situation is crazy, but we’re OK. Dale is methodical about keeping the pantry and freezer stocked. I’ve always joked we could live for six months on what we have in-house, but I did not want to test my theory in this manner.

Dale doesn’t like to plan meals days in advance and enjoys going to the grocery store practically every day for the one or two things he might need. That has become an issue. It’s like asking him to give up his hobby. We’ve had some serious disagreements about going to the store.

I finally said, look, you’re a smart guy. I’m not going to tell you what to do, as long as you practice safe behaviors. And … I said if you get it and give it to me, you won’t have to worry about dying, because I will kill you.

This morning I got up and headed out early to see if maybe the grocery store shelves have hand sanitizer if you get there first. Apparently not. However, the Jameson shelf was full, so I snagged a bottle of that while I was there. And by the way, none of that Jameson will be converted to hand sanitizer.

We decided to visit the cannabis dispensary before that all goes to shit. There was a line at the door. Dale read somewhere that once the toilet paper was gone, everyone started wondering if they had enough weed. It was mostly old folks like me, and I kept my distance. They only let a couple of people in at a time anyway, so it works out great.

This is not fun or easy, but there is still joy in Mudville. I had this song Weed & Whiskey on my brain and sang it on the way home.

All these pills can’t cure my ills or fix me. All I need is a little bit of weed and whiskey.