Too Much Mozzarella?

I bought eighteen dollars worth of buffalo mozzarella cheese. Just for me. There’s a reason. We were facing the possibility of a complete fifteen day lockdown, no grocery runs at all. I’ve had to break out of my peanut-butter and honey or peanut-butter and jelly sandwich routine. So I found the panzanella salad to be a quick and easy meal for lunch or dinner. Don’t be fooled by the word salad. My version of panzanella salad is bread, buffalo mozzarella, basil, garlic, olive oil and balsamic. God bless the person who decided to name bread and cheese a salad.

Instead of a fifteen day lockdown, we have a weekend curfew from Friday evening to early Monday morning. Basically what it’s been like for the past four months for women (we aren’t allowed out on Saturdays). I have enough Buffalo Mozzarella for the month yet at the current rate of consumption it will be gone by Tuesday.

Today is my first quarantine birthday. I celebrated by eating a scrumptious piece of flan gifted to me by Romec Bakery and enjoyed a sugar-free Virgil’s cream soda. I also dressed up in fake eyelashes and a favorite necklace and did a selfie photo shoot in the pool at the house where I’ve been house-sitting since March. While I do miss some aspects of gathering together with friends for a birthday, it actually takes the pressure off from having to decide what to do and where to go. And that awkward part when you wonder if your friends are planning a sneak-attack of singing. Introverts don’t like to be the focus of attention like that. But we love our friends, and cake.

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people just exist.”
~ Oscar Wilde

My Aunt Fuzzy on our RV adventure to Cape Cod

Life is quite a bit slower than it was a few months ago. I miss seeing the old man in a dress shirt, slacks and hat who sat under an umbrella by the side of the road selling pineapples and lemons. I haven’t driven after noon in four months. I realized this as I reviewed a video of the birds flocking down Eisenman Avenue to gather and squawk on the wires at the intersection of the InterAmericana Highway. I might have been driving back after a day out at one of the beaches in Farallon or a trip to a waterfall or just an ice-cream with a friend at the Do-It Center plaza. The things that made life normal.

I spoke with my ninety-year-old aunt who lives in a senior community that has a very strict quarantine. She’s frustrated, justifiably. “I'm ninety, Patty. I don’t know how many more weekends I have left!” I understand her desire to get out - to see her family, hear the grandkids laughter as they cannonball into the pool. I wish our older generation wasn’t restricted from hugging their loved ones and living out their days in the way they worked so hard to enjoy. I hope we’re all able to discover our simple pleasures and slow down.

Once a week I stay out past my 9:30 am curfew and take a drive into the mountains. It soothes my soul for another week of lockdown. This past Wednesday, I took the backroad all the way toward the mountain town of El Valle. Spectacular puffy clouds dotted the blue sky. I saw two Blue Morpho butterflies while driving through the shaded areas near the river. A crew weed-wacked the tall roadside grasses, bringing my sensory memory back to my childhood home and the fresh dewy smell of newly mowed grass.

I rolled down the windows in the cool mountain air and remembered my mom telling me how, in the 1940’s, she and her two sisters piled into the backseat of their father’s car on hot summer nights, stopped for some ice-cream and he’d drive them around after the sun set to cool off in the early evening. Sometimes they’d be in their pajamas. Simple pleasures indeed.

As I approached the main road from my past-curfew drive, my adrenaline kicked in when I saw the police stopping cars from both directions. I slipped my mask on. I said I didn’t understand and that I lived in Coronado. But not only was I past curfew, I’m driving illegally! My embassy appointment to get the necessary stamp of approval for a Panamanian license was canceled in March. And the embassy’s been closed ever since.

Thankfully, the officer waved me through. My car could be impounded if I’m caught. Though, I think some cash might get me out of a pickle. Something I’d never think of doing in the states but is pretty customary here.

A good drive can open the mind. It gives our headspace some breathing room. Even when I drove across hundreds of miles of seemingly unchanging landscapes in the US during my cross-country RV trip, my mind was free to roam - to look toward the horizon with curiosity about what was just beyond the mountain ridges in the distance.

I think we’re all curious about what lies beyond the horizon of the coronavirus pandemic. The old paradigms have crumbled. This down time affords us a chance to envision what we want collectively for our future. How do we want to contribute to society and humanity? How do we want to be remembered by future generations for how we created a better, more loving and connected society?

Things happen in life that we have no control over. But we do have control over how we respond. How are we doing so far?