We’re only 3 days in to Spanish Martial Law Lock Down and we’re not going to make it. I had high hopes for our ability to get through total lock down without fisticuffs or bloodshed. Carol Joyner sending baby goat pictures bought us an hour of reprieve. But it was not enough. And then the Spanish government went one step further and took away the option of even going for a walk.
This is all psychological, of course. We weren’t going anywhere after they declared a state of emergency. We couldn’t have flown off to destinations unknown. Or even taken a road trip. But now that they’ve shut down the airport, train service and closed the motorways I am going stir crazy. It’s like when you go on a diet – the freeway has become double chocolate cake and I can see it through the glass, but I can’t get to it.
For lunch I whipped up a creative version of my famous scalloped potatoes. My kids loved scalloped potatoes every Christmas. So I thought it was a good choice for our 15 Days of Quarantine, as I’ve started calling it. I’ve even written a song for it. It goes something like this:
15 Days of Quarantine – by Wolfgang Kellikinus Fieldstrauss
On the first day of quarantine my true love said to me; I already want to kill you And we’ve not even made it to Day 3
On the second day of quarantine my true love said to me; I’m going crazy, and you’re just fat and lazy. How will we ever make past 3?
On the third day of quarantine, my true love said to me;; I’ve had too much of Twitter, And you”re just angry and bitter and I can’t believe we made it to day 3
On the fourth day of quarantine by true love said to me; Has your hair always looked like that? Just like a New York City sewer rat? Blah Blah Blah Blah we’re past day 3
On the fifth day of quarantine my true love said to me; I’m BORED! Just Fucking BORED!! No really FUCKING BORED!! Wah Wah Wah Wah Wah Wah Wah.
Its a work in progress. I could go on but you get the picture.
I figure when this is over, Valencia will have a celebratory procession where I can sing it – But I digress. I had to cobble together the scalloped potato ingredients from my quarantine pantry. Hmmm. I smell a new ‘Quarantine Cook Book’ in the offing. (note to self) – I won’t say all the combinations were ideal but it looked right.
An hour after assembling and baking my creation, I plated and served it.
‘You’ll want to let it cool because its super hot.’ I warned him. But he was hungry. Whatever.
It was two tongue burning bites before I got ‘What’s this supposed to be?’
Deep breath. ‘Scalloped Potatoes.’ I reminded him I’d had to substitute Creme de Champanois, queso de Oviejo (sheeps milk cheese) and panchetta for Tillamook Black Label extra sharp cheddar cheese and honey baked ham. There were potatoes in it so HA! Jeff has been in a mood today but he doesn’t have a death wish. He ate it. I watched his face, then reminded him that there is plenty left over so he can rest assured that he’ll get to enjoy it again tomorrow for lunch.
By tonight we had watched too many movies, debated ‘The best of…’ too many topics, and finally we were silent. There was nothing left to say. Now we’re voyueristically looking into all our neighbors apartments and watching their lives like reality t.v. Real Boring Houswives of Valencia. I don’t think the neighbor off our utility porch enjoyed me watching him work out on his roof top. Perhaps it was when I whipped out my phone to record it and to bring it back into the living room to show Jeff, that he found so disturbing. Jeff devoured it like he hadn’t had news from the outside world in weeks.
This virus isn’t going to kill us but this lock down will. Togetherness is one thing but constant contact is too much.