Mystery writer Heather McLeod writes daily pandemic diaries. These are her entries for the first half of May, 2020, during the global COVID-19 / coronavirus pandemic.

May 1, 2020 (Friday) – DAY 47

Wonder of wonder, miracles of miracles: when Isaac wakes up, he “rests” (direct quote) in his own bed until the sun comes through the cracks around his blackout blinds, then arises, sees it’s not yet 7am, and plays Lego until the designated Mom-wake-up time.

Ryan came over late last night: we have our tea and coffee on the couch and admire the blue sky until he leaves for work at 8am. Isaac completes his printing and math sheets. So far, this day is perfect.

At 10:30am we drive up to Arrowhead Brewery for a drive-through fried chicken fundraiser. Sammy the SuperHero is two years old and has been diagnosed with a Wilms tumour: so far, he’s undergone surgery, radiation and 26 weeks of chemotherapy. This fundraiser is for his family.

Evy and my nephew are 9th in line: we’re about #15.

Isaac moves to the front seat and we pull into the carwash line. A woman brings us a growler of Arrowhead beer (a special brew, concocted for the event), and then our two boxes of fried chicken.

We start in on the chicken while three young women power spray and soap-sponge our car. 

We head to Ryan’s worksite and feast on chicken on a lake-front deck. It’s too early to open the growler.

Our next stop is Evy’s yard. We visit outside. Peter comes home for lunch and I leave Isaac to play with his cousin.

I’ve ordered a new jigsaw puzzle from the game store’s fresh stock: it’s knitting-themed, and Mom and Grandma will love it. I enter the store, sanitize my hands with the bottle just inside, and call out to Dee to check if it’s okay that I come in. They’re limited customers to one at a time, and only open for four or so hours each day. Fun is my weakness: I end up leaving with a new board game and maze package, plus my puzzle.

Back at Evy’s, the squirrel that moved into their roof suddenly runs along the eavestrough and climbs a tree. This is very exciting: Evy calls Peter and he races back from work. We get the high-powered BB gun ready.

The hunt is successful.

Back home, Isaac plugs back in to Minecraft. There’s a note on our porch, inviting us to a neighbourhood coffee time tomorrow morning:

We’ve lived here for 1.5 years and this is the first neighbourhood event! The pandemic has officially brought our community together.

Arno’s agent has responded to my email (YAY!). We book a phone chat for Tuesday morning.

I leave Isaac happily plugged in and bring the puzzle over to Mom’s, so she and Grandma can do it first.

Dad has done all kinds of garden projects this spring and he gives me a tour. Then we go to my yard and I explain Cody’s and my plan for a sandbox and fire pit: Dad’s going to build the sandbox frame.

Isaac and I sit in the sun for a bit, while he eats a chocolate ice cream cone.

I continue looking through the applications that arrived yesterday for our annual memorial award, in memory of Brock. It’s open to any graduating Cowichan student, and the stack of applications gets bigger every year. There are some brilliant graduates this year, straight “A”s and all that, but the key phrases I look for include “critical thinker” and “has opinions” and “insightful questions.” I’m really looking for the graduate who most reminds me of Brock.

Some of the applications include the student’s projected budget for their post-graduate life. It’s sad to see the negligible savings. My six-year-old son’s RESP account is maxed out annually: those savings are possible because of Brock’s life insurance money. Isaac doesn’t get his dad, but our son will be able to pursue whatever goals he wants after high school.

Isaac is obsessed with hosting a battle on Minecraft. I feed the frenzy with a YouTube video, feeling guilty that I’m not forcing him outside for a walk. It’s still sunny and gorgeous outside when we settle in to read books.

May 2, 2020 (Saturday) – DAY 48

A few days ago, we made a new rule: before Isaac can use the iPad in the morning, he must complete a printing sheet and math sheet.

This is in addition to our long-standing rule that he can’t use the iPad until 7am, because otherwise his Minecraft-addicted brain wakes him up in the middle of the night to play.

To protect my own sleep, we also have a rule that, if Isaac stays out of my room until 7am, I’ll let him watch an educational Minecraft video on YouTube: these teach him new techniques and strategies.

Today, Isaac wakes me up at 6:58am. Two precious minutes short of 7am.

He’s woken me up because there’s no math sheet waiting for him. I forgot to write out the questions the night before.

This summarizes his six-year-old brain so well: he can only focus on one rule at a time.

This morning is exciting: it’s our neighbourhood coffee wander! It’s funny how little events like this are thrilling now. Human connection with anyone outside of our germ circle has become a rare and special opportunity.

I make a de-caf, very milky tea for Isaac in a reusable Starbucks to-go cup, and carry my own mug of tea outside. I’ve dressed up for the occasion, wearing sweatpants instead of jammies, and even a bra. My hair is unbrushed.

We chat with Camille, her husband, and Oma (Peter’s Grandma), who live nearby. We pass a familiar couple. At this point I remember how awkward I am at social interaction and small talk.

We continue up to Isaac’s school friend Victoria’s house, but no one’s outside there. Further up the road is a cluster of about 30 neighbours, standing apart, coffees in hand. Most are in their forties to sixties: I don’t see any children. 

A woman greets us and I discover she’s the ringleader behind this event. 

We head home. I’m pleased that we made the effort, despite my inability to chat and visit. We’d left Ryan to sleep in a bit, and when we return at 9:20am he’s up, making coffee. 

Isaac plugs in happily. Ryan and I play the board game I bought Friday: The Magic Labyrinth. It challenges our short-term memories, which we both struggle with. Then Ryan makes us an epic breakfast of fried potatoes, elk sausage, tomatoes, mushrooms, toast and eggs. He heads off for work.

I tell Isaac it’s time to take a break from Minecraft. He becomes enraged and runs away. Minutes later, he returns and I make him breakfast.

Dad appears in our yard: he’s building the sandbox. We go out to check his work (quality, as always). Isaac wants to bounce on the trampoline: he practices tricks while I watch. Mom comes out for the show.

We play soccer with Mom and Dad until I get sweaty in the sunshine.

I read the book Aunt Pat sent me: Severance. It’s set during an apocalypse, caused by an outbreak of incapacitating fever. It’s clever but I’m sure the self-appointed leader of the survivors is a baddie prophet and it makes me anxious, waiting for the inevitable cult abuse. Most literary fiction makes me anxious now, thanks to my English lit degree.

Isaac plays with the hose in Mom’s driveway. He’s soon wet and chilly, so we go home.

He dives back into Minecraft. I attempt to read in the sunshine: clouds keep chasing me indoors, then I’m lured back out again. I enjoy a few minutes in a sundress on my deck before the clouds cover the sun permanently. 

I transform into a responsible adult and wash our stacks of dishes, then do a short workout in my room: I bring out the 5lbs weights so Isaac can get strong with me. 

When I get out of the shower, Ryan’s in the kitchen prepping dinner. We feast on ribs, spaghetti squash and yams. Plus rice and cucumbers for Isaac, which he barely eats. I don’t understand how this kid stays alive, given how little food he consumes.

Isaac is jittery so we go to the high school track. Isaac does a lap on his scooter (he’s able to coast!) while I jog and Ryan walks. In the final curve, Isaac wipes out and gets minor road rash on his butt through his pyjama pants. Somehow, Ryan wins the race. We kick the soccer ball around, then head home.

Isaac and Ryan make popcorn, and we start watching Harry Potter: The Philosopher’s Stone. Both Ryan and I have tried reading this book with Isaac, but he’s young to follow the storyline. The movie version, however, wins him over quickly, and this suddenly becomes the best part of our day: whenever magic happens, my six-year-old exclaims “Oh my gosh!” and “What! How is this happening?”

I want to record this experience, but don’t want to break the spell by pulling out my phone. 

We pause the movie at 9:15pm: Isaac is overdue for books. We read, and he falls asleep quickly.

May 3, 2020 (Sunday) – DAY 49

Last night, Evy suggested a trip into the bush, for a campfire and hot dog lunch. But now it’s pouring rain …

Otherwise, our morning is perfect: I sleep until 7am, Isaac revels in Minecraft and gets to play online with some friends. Ryan and I have toast, tea and coffee before he heads off.

His sons get back from their Mom’s today, and they have their own adventures planned this week, so I won’t see him again for awhile.

I’m eager to start writing my new mystery book, but I have some plot gaps to figure out before I settle in. I don’t want to have to rewrite sections, if the plot or themes change. It’s also MUCH easier to simply write down a story that’s complete in my brain, rather than make up details as I write.

I settle in on the couch and finish my book, Ling Ma’s Severance. It’s about an apocalyptic outbreak of incapacitating fever, and there are many, many parallels with our current global reality:

I get so anxious reading the book’s final pages that I have to glance at the last page. I know it’s wrong to do this, but I’m getting heart palpitations.

I’m tired of my new belly. I change into a sports bra and workout pants, and check out the “fitness BINGO” sheet I printed off from Facebook: I wish our local non-profit fitness centre would do Zoom classes, but so far this BINGO challenge is all they’ve offered.

I opt for the 20/20/10 corner square and put on an episode of Community to distract me from the sweat.

I shower and then agree to play Minecraft with Isaac via my phone, thereby making him the happiest six-year-old ever. We tours me around the world he’s prepped for a someday-epic battle: he shows me the chests of armour he’s prepared for our friends & family, and then demonstrates good dental hygiene, brushing his teeth and spitting into the sink.

It’s time to build. Isaac assigns me a job. It’s methodical and precise and I do diligent work.

Evy texts: their family outing into the forest district has gone sideways. Pete’s truck has broken down (it’s the alternator) and they need rescue. Dad drives out, and I offer my BCAA membership. We would have liked to drive out with Dad, for the adventure, but we’re trying to maintain our 2m distance from the elder members of our family and, besides, he’ll need the seats for Evy’s family.

There’s an exciting moment when Sam Wiebe, an award-winning mystery author in Vancouver, follows me on Instagram.

It’s still cold and windy and wet outside, so when Isaac suggests we watch the last half of Harry Potter I agree. He makes popcorn while I make tea, then we settle in. I help him through the scary scenes. He LOVES this magical world (who doesn’t?) and is eager to watch the next movie, but I insist we go outdoors first.

We head to Mom and Dad’s, bringing an armful of books to share with Mom and Grandma. Aside from Severance, I haven’t touched the books in weeks so they should be germ-free. We play soccer with Dad, and then Mom gives me a plate of adult dinner to take home.

She also gives Isaac two packaged Lego minifigures for us. He opens them at home to reveal a PJed girl with a bunny (aka me), and a ninja (Isaac).

We do noise time, then I make Isaac his requested spaghetti.

Movie night is Shrek 2. I let Isaac sleep in my bed, and he falls asleep after three stories.

May 4, 2020 (Monday) – DAY 50

Isaac’s first, half-asleep sentence: “Let’s do this thing.”

Isaac tackles his printing and math sheets, then opts to watch a Minecraft YouTube video while I check out the news: Alberta has started reopening, starting with outdoor recreation, non-urgent surgeries and regulated health-care workers.

More public places and consumer businesses could open as early as May 14. The Province expects to see a rise in infections, but they believe they have the hospital capacity to manage those. Not all businesses that can reopen will choose to. What a difficult position to be in, for those employees and business owners.

I wonder how this will impact our own little border town: just as Americans so often assume they can use their currency in Canada, our Albertan neighbours sometimes forget we’re a different province. Will the stream of vehicles heading here over the past few weeks grow to the usual, seasonal torrent?

The computer has its clutches on me now and I do some work updating the chamber’s community calendar. There are new webinars and other virtual events being announced every week, now. People have moved beyond denial.

Pete invites me to a chamber Zoom meeting, so I hurry to transform my PJs and pigtails to something more professional. 

After, I do a little more work, then move to the couch to fulfil my kid’s #1 wish and play Minecraft with him for a bit. It’s fun, I’ll admit. I build a hot air balloon. He feeds me carrots and tea, and shows me a game he invented, where I freefall from an airplane and see how many diamonds I can catch before I land on a bouncy slime pad.

We go onto the deck to enjoy the sunshine: it’s windy, but warm in the shelter of the deck rail. We play Isaac’s favourite songs on the speaker and he performs for me: it’s a blend of interpretive dance, scootering, and physics experimentation with three bungy cords. 

Isaac wants to watch Shrek the Third and assures me he’s fine alone if I go grocery shopping. I remind him that our tenants are downstairs and he can go to Mom and Dad’s if he gets scared.

So I drive off and get our groceries. These little moments of alone time are so good for my introvert soul.

Two shoppers are wearing masks: still a minority. In the baking aisle, I spot a lone jar of Fleischman’s traditional yeast. I have no need for this: I’ve never baked a decent loaf of bread. But I buy it anyway, because this might be the backstory of an apocalypse tale, and that yeast could save our lives someday.

It is still windy out, but so sunny and warm that I resolve to get Isaac outside. We head to Evy’s: he scooters the entire way, including down the hills. We spot Isaac’s principal and yell hello.

Evy, my nephew and their dog join us and we set out to walk to Peter’s workplace, but we pass him on the way so turn left and circumnavigate the recreation park instead. We spot a unicorn and an osprey.

Evy says downtown was weirdly busy today: a line-up outside the bank, cars parked along the main street. I wonder if this has to do with Alberta opening. Evy says maybe people are just doing their Monday errands.

There are plenty of people outside too. We all do a good job of keeping our distance. 

Evy takes the boys back to her yard. I intersect with a man I’ve waved at hundreds of times, when Isaac and I were walking to school. We have a good 20 minute conversation: he knows my parents, of course, and remembers us kids. He has an oxygen pack and this has always made me a bit weepy, because it reminds me of Brock’s final months. I don’t mention this to him. I jog back to the house, then pick Isaac up in the car 30 minutes later.

My actor friend Charlie Ross performs his incredible One Man Star Wars via Facebook Live. I host a watch party on FB: my second time doing this fancy, space-age thing. It plays on my phone while I make tacos and drink cranberry vodkas.

The show ends and I serve up our dinner.

My body’s been aching all day from exercising yesterday. I do a little workout on the deck, because it’s just so beautiful outside, then shower. We read books. I let Isaac sleep in my bed again.

My phone meeting with an agent is at 11am tomorrow: I am really excited.

May 5, 2020 (Tuesday) – DAY 51

We remember Isaac’s weekly date with Ms Erin, an education assistant, 1 minute late: we join the virtual meeting and he spends 30 minutes doing word and literacy challenges.

In the meantime, I Google search the agent I have an 11am phone date with. I learn she’s interested in “strong, complex female protagonists” with a “developed voice” and a “fresh perspective.” I see the phrase “upmarket fiction” and Google that: it means literary (well-written) stories, but accessible and commercially viable. Hey, all of that describes the mysteries I write!

I’m nervous, so get Isaac outside and leave him playing in gravel while I walk around the block. It’s a beautiful day. Neighbours are outside reno-ing their yards, retaining walls and houses. The faller is back, cutting down more trees. There’s been a big push toward making our neighbourhood more fire safe this year.

I check the mail: A.J. Devlin has sent me a copy of his latest book, Rolling Thunder! What a great guy.

Stephanie, from Transatlantic Agency, calls and I ask her how it’s going in Toronto: are they allowed to walk around? She says there’s more fear than in B.C.: everyone wears face masks, and crosses the street if they see someone coming toward them. I guess that makes sense, with the higher, concentrated population.

Stephanie asks me about my writing, and about my publishing goals. I name smaller, Canadian publishers like ECW Press and NeWest: she mentions Penguin Random House and Simon & Schuster. I realize an agent will let me dream bigger, or at least help my big dreams happen sooner, if I can only win her love.

Stephanie invites me to email her my manuscript, and I get that inevitable moment of anxiety: what if it’s no good? And then I remind myself the first draft shortlisted for the Unhanged Arthur Ellis Award, and it’s worthy of sharing with a literary agent.

After I send my email, I update my Patreon community, and Mom and Evy via our text group. Ryan messages to ask how it went. It’s nice to have so many cheerleaders.

Evy calls and mentions our young friend Georgia is there, playing in the yard. Isaac overhears and announces he’s scootering to Evy’s on his own. 

I call and order a truckload of gravel, to be delivered tomorrow. Once we have it here, Cody can come anytime to landscape our fire pit area and sandbox.

Once our beach stuff is packed up, I drive to Evy’s. She’s in the yard preparing a Mother’s Day craft for her preschool students, washing teacups and saucers before gluing them together. Georgia and Isaac eat popsicles and play. I sit in the sunshine and read Rolling Thunder.

We decide to pick up Mom’s kayaks and take the kids to Kinsmen Beach. At my parents’ house, Dad visits with his cousin Bill at the campfire.

Hollis and Isaac paddle and sometimes fight on the kayaks. Georgia wades in the shallow water. We three moms (me, Evy and Ashley) sit sorta far apart on the beach, just for appearances: Ashley and Georgia are part of our germ circle.

It’s more like Olympic Rings than a circle, really, given my evenings with Ryan, Ashley’s interactions with her parents, and my nephew’s visits with his dad’s family. At least we’re keeping our 2m distance from Mom, Dad and Grandma.

We head home at 4pm. Isaac eats leftover tacos while I bake fish and fries for myself. Harry Potter 2 is our movie night choice. There are a few scary bits, and we turn the volume down to help Isaac survive those. 

I reveal a Harry Potter Lego set I hid in the cupboard months ago: the Great Hall, with all the major characters. We build the first of six bags of Lego, then get into my bed to read books. I’m hoping my bed will prevent nightmares, after the scary scenes.

Quinn texts: he and Taylor have received the Soxy socks I ordered for them, including a special Vancouver-themed pair. We have a Facetime visit, and he reveals his spoiled dog has seven dog beds. Seven.

May 6, 2020 (Wednesday) – DAY 52

Happy Garbage Pick-up Day!

It’s easy to get out of bed when there’s a Lego set waiting to be built. Isaac turns my kettle on for extra motivation.

I finish the Great Hall while Isaac plays with the minifigures. At one point, Poppy and Branch from Trolls appear as special guest music teachers. The sorting hat helps Harry and the other students find their true music: techno, pop, rock, etc.

Exciting news from Dauna: she has had a successful date, and now has a pandemic boyfriend. These 1.5 months of social distancing have been challenging for the dating folk. I’m happy for her.

Skandia delivers a truckload of gravel around 10am. Cody says he can come by in the afternoon to level the site and spread the gravel. 

For the sandbox sand, Max Helmer suggests we come to the yard to choose our preferred kind: do we prefer cleaner sand, or good sand for sand castles? I make breakfast, and then we head down to Max’s. 

We test three different piles, then settle on the “unwashed but not super silty” sand. Max goes on standby, awaiting the word to deliver.

My friend (and Patreon patron!) Megan Adams of Mountain Hub is doing a webinar on online content strategies: I tune in and make notes. I learn something helpful every time this woman speaks.

Isaac and I play Minecraft, working on a lovely pink highrise. Cody arrives with his excavator.

While he works, here’s an observation I’ve been meaning to share:

Over the past few weeks I’ve seen increased interest in gardening. ‘Tis the year of Victory Gardens … One friend even built a cold cellar in her yard.

The irony is that I spent 8 years on a farm, and yet have no desire to attempt growing our own food during this apocalypse, because of two important lessons I learned from those years:

1. I’m terrible at gardening.
2. If someone else will do the work, it’s easier to mooch off of them.

My Mom and Dad are fantastic gardeners and will share some of their abundance. Dad fishes. Evy and Peter have two freezers full of hunted meat, and plan to get more.

Also, who’s to say we’ll be short of food this year? So far, the farmers are producing and the supply lines are running. We have at least two major local vegetable producers, plus the community greenhouse is just down my road. I’d rather save my energy for other projects. (Famous last words?)

Anyhoo, back to my fire pit area … With help from Dad, we’re done:

Our next project is to collect firewood. Dad’s going to raise the walls of the sandbox and then build us a privacy fence/screen, because he’s amazing.

A.J. Devlin calls (because we’re writer besties now) to tell me he talked me up with his publisher, and now NeWest Press (in Edmonton) is eager for my submission.

I will wait to hear from Stephanie, and maybe read through my manuscript once again, with fresh eyes, before submitting.

It’s 5:30pm. I heat up leftovers for dinner. Isaac’s watched way too much YouTube today, but it’s raining so that’s okay. 

I check Facebook and read the latest news from the B.C. government: a tentative reopening will start mid-May, with campgrounds reopening June 1 if things don’t go sideways.

Schools aren’t expected to reopen until September. I have to figure out how to write my new book, without plugging Isaac into a screen full-time.

Isaac’s due for a bath. I lure him: glow sticks in the water, a bowl of ice cubes, two plastic cups with coloured water and one with shaving cream. Toy boats, colour-changing Hot Wheels. No six-year-old can resist this. I ask him what he’d like to listen to, and he opts for “Old Town Road” on infinite repeat.

Then it’s time for books, in his own bed after three nights with me. He’s fidgety and only makes it through two stories before he falls asleep.

I’m eager to lose my paunch: it’s 9:30pm and my plan is to watch Community and work out. 

May 7, 2020 (Thursday) – DAY 53

Happy Recycling Pick-up Day!

Isaac comes into my room when it’s still dark outside. Maybe it’s a nightmare, maybe he got too hot in those fleece PJ pants. I’m mostly asleep and pull him into bed with me.

He wakes up earlier than I’d like and comes to wake me up / check on me every few minutes. It’s a rough morning.

Arne the piano teacher calls via Facebook video Messenger at 9:30am and Isaac rocks his piano lesson. He tells Arne about Harry Potter: Arne promises to send Isaac the music to the theme song, and Isaac is thrilled.

We have about 30 minutes before Isaac’s weekly Teams video call with Ms Casey and his class. We load up a YouTube video to learn how to build an elevator in our Minecraft apartment building. It’s challenging and Isaac gets frustrated. This erupts into a full-on meltdown when I suggest a break from Minecraft.

I message Ms Casey and say Isaac isn’t up to a class meeting today.

There is a stack of dishes and I’m a bit cold so I start washing. Isaac comes out of his room, plays Lego for a bit, and then I invite him to help me by rinsing the dishes. He pulls up a chair.

My kid needs some extra attention today, so I tell him it’s Take Your Kid to Work Day. (By “work” I mean housework: there’s no chance I’ll get to do computer work today.)

After the dishes, we go downstairs. Isaac bowls, plays tennis and golfs on the Wii while I try to remember how to use my spinning wheel again.

Apparently spinning wool is like riding a bike. If anything, I’m better at it after two years of not touching my wheel.

Isaac wants to play with the wool so I get out the carding machine we inherited from Val. 

My Aunt Pat sends me a startling graph of COVID-19 deaths per million residents. This backs up the Ontario vs. B.C. vibe of fear vs. unrest that Stephanie and I discussed the other day. I know only two people who have become sick, and no one who’s died: it’s hard to understand this plague is real when it’s such an abstract thing in our province. Because our numbers are so low, British Columbians have the luxury of doubting whether COVID-19 should be taken seriously.

I want to get us out of the house, so Isaac and I head to Dairy Queen. He wants an ice cream cone and fries: I’m craving onion rings. We eat our car picnic parked at Kinsmen Beach. It’s pouring rain. 

We fold laundry: Isaac does the washcloths and dishcloths, then sorts socks. (This work is how he thinks we pay for Netflix.)

BC Parks emails, announcing they plan to open campgrounds June 1. I have until June 15 to cancel our group camp site on Vancouver Island without penalty, for our annual McLeod family reunion in July, assuming things don’t close down again. My heart wants us to go, but I can’t imagine leaving Invermere in July.

I read a blog post by microbiologist & immunologist PhD Erin Bromage via Facebook analyzing how COVID-19 spreads. Using the washroom after an infected person has flushed the toilet is a bad idea, while: “of the countries performing contact tracing properly, only a single outbreak has been reported from an outdoor environment (less than 0.3% of traced infections). [Source is here.]”

Our B.C. schools are considering opening to students again in June: I forward the post to Ms Casey, suggesting they try to do mostly outdoor learning.

We eat mac & cheese (our favourite comfort food) and Facetime with Evy and Peter. The forecast is for 17-degree sunshine over the next two days, and Evy wants to have an adventure.

We watch Trolls and eat popcorn, then read books for over an hour.

I leave Isaac’s bedroom to find lime margaritas, Ryan in a Hawaiian shirt, and the backgammon board all set up. I’d told him earlier that I was craving a Mexico holiday, and here it is.

We each win a game, then stop so we can stay friends. We watch Knives Out, which is a mystery about the death of a famous mystery writer. It’s a perfect evening.

May 8, 2020 (Friday) – DAY 54

Isaac wakes us up at 6:56am. So close to 7am!!! Yet so far. 

Ryan makes us an epic breakfast before heading off to check on his boys and go to work.

It’s overcast and cold outside. Isaac and I play Minecraft: he shows me a new world he’s made with a treehouse for us to live in. I build us a floating ship. We slay the ender dragon and then try to tame horses and wolves in the nether world. Then my eyes get achey and I call an end to screen time.

The morning fog has burned off and it’s a blue sky day. Isaac suggests we play in his new sandbox. We bring out our sand toys, plus a bucket of water and his water guns. I build a dozen sand castles for Isaac to destroy. Sand boxes have always been his weakness: he can play for hours, even by himself.

Eventually he’s ready to go back inside. I help him hose off his hands and feet, and he changes into clean PJs.

I make him a grilled cheese sandwich and watermelon slices, then he settles into Netflix and I go grocery shopping at Valley Foods.

On my way, I drive by Evy: we turn around and find each other in a parking lot. She has water balloons and new sand buckets for Isaac.

There’s one shopper with a mask. Some shelves have been sold out for weeks, including my favourite pasta brand. Customers are limited to 1 “paper product,” which means I have to choose between Kleenex and toilet paper. (I go for the TP, at $11.99 for 12 rolls, which is cheaper than the name brand at $17.99.) We can’t buy sugar AND flour: only one per shop.

But the rice section is fully stocked again. There are plenty of vegetables (romaine lettuce heads are less than $1) and fruit, including exotic options like bananas and pineapples.

The sign is outside at Konig deli and they’re advertising sandwiches. I go in and ask about sausage rolls for Grandma: they’re on the schedule for Thursdays. There are spray bottles of hand sanitizer outside and inside the front door.

I make myself open-faced lox bagels for lunch. One of my favourite, most decadent meals. I want to lure Isaac outside again, but when we cuddle on the deck couch I get goosebumps so we play Lego instead.

I build a post-apocalypse boat for me, Dauna and Ryan. Our mission is to find my lost son, Isaac. We find him, then battle various creatures Isaac controls.

We’re ready for our inaugural campfire. I pack up hot dogs, farmer sausages, buns, condiments, marshmallows, matches, the sole ad insert in this week’s newspaper, and water bottles. I make us hot chocolates. We get wood from Dad’s fire pit area and light our first fire.

Isaac invites our tenants, and they join us. We eat marshmallows. Mom comes to visit. We toast hot dogs and sausages. This whole time, Isaac plays in the sand. It’s hot enough for T-shirts and bare feet.

By 7:15pm, Miranda and I are the only ones left at the fire. Two introverts, enjoying the interaction. I call Isaac out so he can dump water on the fire (his favourite part).

Isaac’s hungry so I microwave leftover mac & cheese for him. He watches a tech-version of Power Rangers while I help Dad screw in the top 2x4s and supports on the sandbox: we can now sit on the edge.

Isaac asks if he can sleep in my bed, and I agree. I like our sleepovers.

I read two long books and he’s out.

May 9, 2020 (Saturday) – DAY 55

Isaac and I sleep until 8am. Ah, the perks of letting him sleep in my bed …

He does his school sheets and then plugs into Minecraft, while I get sucked into numerous exciting articles on marketing, engagement, Pinterest and more by Fab Giovanetti on Medium. I could spend the day just working through her ideas. I indulge in a few articles, then force myself away from the computer: it’s a blue-sky day and I need to get my son outside. First: breakfast.

At the sandbox, I build castles and Isaac destroys them with elaborate story lines. Meteors. Aliens. WAR.

Our neighbours walk by: they’re heading to the plant sale at the community greenhouse. I am baffled as to how the organizers intend to maintain social distancing in such a small space during this event.

We hose Isaac off and play Minecraft together on the couch: I build a market garden homestead, with a red bed for when Isaac sleeps over. He invites me for dinner at his house.

We unplug when my eyes get achey, and go jump for a bit on the trampoline. The evergreen trees in Mom and Dad’s yard have dropped some needles in the recent storms and there are prickles on the trampoline.

I’ve registered for a free webinar on revising and editing with Farzana Doctor, hosted by the Writers’ Union of Canada. Isaac goes off to play with Mom while I scribble notes. After an hour Farzana moves onto the Q&As and I’ve got all the inspiration I need: I feel ready to tackle One for the Raven with fresh eyes and a plan. 

I should go find Isaac and Mom, to relieve her. I could try to sneak in a run. I want to edit my manuscript, but maybe it makes sense to wait until I hear back from Stephanie the agent. I could sit on the couch and re-read my excellent book on publishing, The Forest for the Trees, by Betsy Lerner, which I’ve been carrying around hopefully all morning.

With the book in my hand, I head outside, half aiming for the chair on the porch, half looking for Mom and Isaac. He’s here: they were just coming to check on me.

We return to the sandbox. I build more castles.

Evy walks over with her dog, Caeli. Peter is checking on his Grandma Oma next door.

Evy reports that the greenhouse was packed: people standing in a line to get in, then bottle-necked at the till when exiting. Evy saw the crowds when they passed by. The event is scheduled again for next Saturday.

Evy and Peter are treating Mom, Dad and Grandma to fish & chips from The Station Pub as an early Mother’s Day gift, since the pub is closed on Sunday. We decide to get our own, to eat together: we’ll keep our distance from Grandma.

Isaac is hosed off again. We go inside and he revels in Minecraft YouTube videos while I run around the neighbourhood, then turn around and run back. I take my weights and yoga mat onto the deck, where it’s cooler. I spot Dad, measuring out the privacy screen/fence he wants to build for our fire pit: he’ll price the materials out first, before I consent.

I shower, then we turn off the TV and Isaac plays while I set the deck coffee table for dinner. For Isaac, I grill a hot dog and microwave mac & cheese. We all get fancy drinks.

Somehow I forget to take a picture of our meal for you. It is delicious and we gobble it up.

Isaac and I watch Harry Potter: The Prisoner of Azkaban, pausing at 7pm for noise time, popcorn and an ice cream cone for Isaac. He makes an eloquent case for why he should be allowed to sleep in my bed again. I allow it, simply because I like snuggling with him. Bad habits, Heather!

We read books, including two history books from Scholastic: when we read the Rosa Parks one, Isaac gets his “eureka!” face and flips back to this page:

ISAAC: “Mom, that’s us! We’re the bad guy!”

He says this because we have white skin, just like the bus driver. And so, at 9:30pm, I explain privilege to my six-year-old son. I say it’s our job, as people but especially as people with white skin, to stand up for other people who aren’t being treated fairly. It’s a big responsibility.

And then we read about Amelia Earhart, but he doesn’t yet grasp that women are treated differently from men, so I don’t need to explain that tonight.

On Facebook, Vancouver friends have posted photos of the crowds at the seawall and on the beach. In a local Facebook discussion group, people are reporting numerous campers in the forestry district, even though camping isn’t permitted until at least June 1.

My plan is to sit tight and maintain our germ circle (or “pandemic bubble,” as the B.C. government called it today). I expect this plague will get worse before it gets better.

May 10, 2020 (Sunday) – DAY 56

Happy Mother’s Day!

Last night I was sneaky: after getting Isaac’s school practice sheets ready, I moved our Arkham Asylum Lego set over to the coffee table where he does his work and jailed our two Lego characters: Lego Heather and Lucy.

Isaac notices and this tricks him into playing Lego for about thirty minutes (so he can rescue us) before he remembers Minecraft.

That’s when I remember it’s Mother’s Day, and announce this to Isaac. He gives me a snuggle. I realize (very, very much too late) that I’ve completely forgotten to mail a card to my mother-in-law, Debbie, whom I adore. She really likes cards. Well, shit. I call my in-laws and leave a message.

Isaac and I play Minecraft together for a bit, and then we need an eye-break so I say I’m going to read my book (it’s my day, after all). I remind him of our rule: I’ll read to him anytime he asks. So he brings me two Minecraft books and we learn more about redstone.

Debbie calls back, and we have a nice phone visit. I tell her I don’t think it’s wise for me, Ryan and the planned carload of children to come to the Island in July for our annual reunion trip. She asks if we’d feel comfortable with her and Randy driving out to visit us, as an alternative. I confirm that they are always welcome. (They wash their hands more often than our teenagers.)

It sounds like people are relaxing their plague precautions on the Island: Debbie says she’s seeing fewer gloves and masks. My in-laws camped at a private campground in Courtney, 90 minutes up the road, for a few nights. There were other families. I predict a second wave, but Debbie disagrees.

Throughout this conversation, Isaac is acting out. He doesn’t like sharing my attention these days. The natural fermentation of a spoiled only child with COVID-19 cabin fever. He grabs at me and hits me. I tell him repeatedly to stop, and by the time I hang up I’m steaming. 

We have a mini-battle, and then make peace, deciding that I can watch an episode of Brokenwood and he’ll snuggle with me. I get paper and markers in case he gets bored.

I get a nice moment of “doing what I want” happiness, pausing the show every so often so Isaac and I can discuss what’s happening. 

But when the show ends we have a next-level battle: he says I’m the “worst mom” and he never gets to do what he wants. (Ha ha ha.)

I go on strike, realizing that if I want to have a pleasant Mother’s Day I have to stop being a mom. I’m in the mood for a campfire (despite the rain clouds around us). I pack up supplies and go to the fire pit. Isaac follows me.

It’s already 6pm, and the clouds start to sprinkle rain. I summon Isaac so he can dump water on the fire.

Indoors again, I decide I want a present, so I retrieve three wrapped packages leftover from the “basket o’ comfort” my incredible friend (and Patreon patron) Patti gave me when Brock was sick. These presents were for me to open whenever I needed an emotional boost. Today qualifies.

Next up is a bath. I use some of the fancy bath stuff from Quinn & Taylor’s birthday gift basket, and light a candle from my friend Genevieve.

It takes a village to make a solo mom feel special on Mother’s Day …

I’m in a better mood now. I make Isaac food and we watch the fourth Harry Potter (The Goblet of Fire). The movies are getting more scary and violent, but so far Isaac’s doing okay. I let him sleep in my bed to prevent nightmares.

The movie’s done at 10:30pm. We brush our teeth, read two books and Isaac’s out. I have a video visit with Ryan.

On Facebook, the community greenhouse has posted photos from their plant sale: it looks okay social-distancing-wise, except for the rules about maximum attendance at events. The organizers are happy with how it went and plan to do it again on Saturday.

May 11, 2020 (Monday) – DAY 57

We sleep well (as always), and Isaac gets his school work done … but it’s not a successful morning. I feel pulled in too many directions:

My Ontario family thinks we’re too relaxed with our plague precautions, while I feel uptight compared to my West Coast family.

All my son wants to do is play Minecraft and watch Minecraft videos, and if I let  him do as he wanted I could spend my own days writing. So tempting!! But too much screen time makes me a bad parent, and the teachers will judge me. And then, whenever I pull Isaac away from a screen he calls me “bossy” and controlling and a “bad mom.”

So I’m grumpy and frazzled, and Isaac’s mad at me because I take the screens away at noon. I get him out of the house, then leave him to rage in the sandbox while I go across the road to Mom and Dad’s to get the rocks we painted. Dad says hello and I start to cry Day 57 tears.

Mom comes out and we all sit down for a bit so I can vent. Then she heads down to talk to Isaac and try to lure him out for our walk.

Mom heads back to her house and Isaac pouts in the sandbox, angry with me for not allowing screens until 5pm. I ignore him and dig a big circle in the gravel, so I can lower our fire pit: the holes in the rim are too high for air to get in and feed the fire.

I always feel like a superhero, doing dirty, physical jobs like this. Partly because the farm toughened me up and showed me what I am capable of, and partly because I’m aware that, for most married women, their men would be doing this job. I’m proud to be a capable solo mom.

My fire lights quickly in the lowered pit. Mom comes down with bannock dough and we wrap it around sticks to toast over the fire. We eat the bread with butter and a fancy jam (sour cherry, rhubarb, rosemary) from one of my birthday gift boxes.

We had campfire bannock often on our family camping trips as kids: I love it. This will be our new tradition here too.

Isaac races back to the iPad at 5pm. I sit with Mom for a bit longer and she offers to take Isaac for a few hours in the morning sometime, to give me time to write properly. Isaac needs a break from being with me all the time. I need a break too.

Inside, I make ichiban for dinner. More as a joke, really. Isaac’s never had ichiban and I haven’t eaten it for years, but a character in Brokenwood was eating it and I had a craving. Isaac loves it. “A hundred thumbs up,” he says. 

We cuddle up and watch the fifth Harry Potter, The Order of the Phoenix. Again, I let Isaac sleep with me, to prevent nightmares. I’m exhausted too so I curl up with him and we fall asleep.

May 12, 2020 (Tuesday) – DAY 58

Isaac has his video piano lesson with Arne at 9:15am. He wows us by playing “Rain, Rain, Go Away” for the first time perfectly, and is rocking “The Snake Dance” when he suddenly fears failure and stops. He can play with both hands now and is able to move his hands while reading the music, so that’s incredible.

At 10am, he has a video call with Ms Erin, the Education Assistant. His homework was to draw a story for her:

They discuss the various elements of his piece. If you play Minecraft, this drawing might make sense to you …

Then it’s 10:30am and he’s free to do whatever he wants until noon, which means (of course) he plays Minecraft and watches YouTube videos about Minecraft.

I’m doing computer work stuff when I get a message from someone named Shane via my Facebook Page:

My first thought is that this is a scam, and this man/bot will now try to sell me heathermcleod.com for hundreds of dollars. Last time I checked, in 2015, it was available for $700+.

I open my Bluehost account and whaddya know, heathermcleod.com IS available, and for just $12.99/year!!! I am so excited. My fingers are shaking. I add it to my cart and start checking out, then get a weird error message that says there’s an availability discrepancy and I need to check the domain again. I do, and it’s no longer available.

Seriously? Is this domain so popular that someone has scooped it within seconds of my purchase?

Just as I start the grieving process, I get an email: it’s Bluehost, with a receipt for my domain purchase.

SUCCESS. I now own www.heathermcleod.com!! No more annoying “w” in the middle to remember. I’m that much closer to Internet search-ability and writerly professionalism. Now I just have to merge it with my existing website.

Shane is my favourite person today.

Much more than, for example, my son, who is being annoying and mean to me again.

I’ve resolved to get us both out of the house from 12-5pm, even though I would love to keep writing and working at the computer. But it’s sunny. We have no excuse. 

Isaac wails and rages at the unfairness of it all. I wrangle him into the car and we drive to Evy’s. Soon he’s playing tag with Georgia, while Evy and Ashley eat salad rolls and I sit and enjoy not being a mom for a few minutes.

With Isaac distracted, I go grocery shopping, then brave the pharmacy. I’ve been wary of the pharmacy, not wanting to burden those essential services workers with my need for bubble bath and facial scrub. I fill my (sanitized) hands with bottles of shampoo, conditioner, facial scrub, contact lens solution, lotion for Isaac’s always-itchy skin, and vitamins.

Then I pick up Isaac and we head home. I keep him outside with soccer with Dad, a walk around the neighbourhood that includes a stop at Leanne’s (his old day care teacher) and Juli’s front doors. We ask Juli all our Harry Potter questions. 

Back home, it’s finally 5pm and Isaac races off to plug back in. I light the campfire and wait for Dauna to come visit.

Her pandemic boyfriend is 42, named Andrew, and lives in Nelson. He sounds perfect for her. 

We eat toasted marshmallows and bannock. Dad comes down to visit with us for a bit, and tells us Bob tales (his stories are legendary). My visitors leave at 7:30pm, when the rain starts.

I make Isaac spaghetti for dinner. Because I’m not a “mean mom,” as he says. I’m pretty damn terrific, actually.

May 13, 2020 (Wednesday) – DAY 59

Happy Garbage Pick-Up Day!

I wake up with Isaac in my bed, just before 7am. He tells me he did his school work sheets, then was cold and couldn’t find his housecoat so crawled in with me to warm up.

Isaac has a video date with Ms. Karin, the speech therapist, at 9:30am. They practice words with “L” as the second letter: play, slide. She shows me how to coach him with “r” sounds: rat, grab.

These past 59 days together I’ve noticed how hard it is to understand what Isaac’s saying sometimes, even though he’s had “talking teachers” since he was three. It makes it hard for him to communicate with other kids. Working on his speech is one of our priorities for this quarantine time.

For breakfast, I make “toad in the hole” eggs: an egg, cooked in a hole cut out of the middle of a piece of bread. Ms. Karin calls this “chicken in a window,” which is a much better name.

We play Minecraft together, and I get lost exploring a mine. Isaac rescues me.

While I’m waiting for some part of the game to load, I check Facebook and find a UBC survey about our pandemic experiences. I click through, and then get stuck on the semantics of the child questions … “Significantly more” what? Wellbeing? Screen time? Is that good (i.e. being well) or bad? Ugh I hate questionnaires like this.

Isaac moves on the Netflix and I tackle the last half of the applications for our Cowichan school district graduate’s award, in memory of Brock. There’s only one contender in this half.

It’s noon so we go play in the sandbox. I check the mail and discover that Evy’s Mother’s Day present has arrived! We wrap it up, and then she happens to come by.

We’ve ordered her a pair of Speax underwear, so she can jump on the trampoline with Isaac: they hold pee! We’re excited to try them out someday soon.

Evy leaves. We head up to Mom and Dad’s, to check out the fence Dad’s building. My nephew is visiting: Dad invites his grandsons for a campfire and hotdog roast.

Back home, I attend a webinar featuring my friend and Patreon patron Megan Adams, all about search engine optimization. As usual, I’m left with pages of notes and to-dos. I love digital marketing.

I put pork back ribs into the oven to slow-cook, then lure Isaac into the car with a popsicle and drive over to Evy’s. We join her and her dog Caeli for a 40 minute walk to Peter’s work. Evy has prepared a nature scavenger hunt for Isaac, and we collect items along the way: fir cones, pine needles, a dandelion. 

Peter drives us back to their house, and we lounge in their Adirondacks. Evy hands me a beer. While we were out, her HUGE order of Scholastic books arrived, for Evy’s day care kids. She sorts them on a table and presents Isaacs with a selection for his personal library. We read three books in the yard, then go home.

We have 30 minutes until Isaac’s allowed back on a screen (he’s counting the minutes). We play Hot Wheels cars on the porch and then go in the sandbox for a bit.

Inside, I watch Brokenwood on my phone while tackling the dishes, then make dinner. 

We bang our pots for noise time, then start the sixth Harry Potter: The Half-Blood Prince. I am worried it will be too violent and scary for Isaac, but the first half is so boring for a six-year-old that he gets squirmy and we turn it off. He has a bath instead.

We read four more of our new books, then he curls sideways and I read Sesame Street stories until he falls asleep.

May 14, 2020 (Thursday) – DAY 60

I play with some of the SEO stuff I learned yesterday, auditing where I appear when I Google various phrases. I’m Google result #1, 2 and 7 for “Heather McLeod,” but maybe that’s because I’m the one searching?

Isaac has his weekly class meeting via the Teams video conferencing app at 10:30am. We collect a bunch of 3D shaped household items for his sharing assignment, with minutes to spare. 

He also shares the nature scavenger hunt we did on our walk with Evy yesterday:

We try to play Minecraft together, but lately the game has been glitchy and it’s impossible to join each other’s worlds.

We go outside at noon. I want to move our pop-up tent trailer so we can set it up and camp in our driveway. Isaac “helps” me back up so the hitch aligns with the ball.

With Isaac as co-pilot, I miraculously manage to back up the trailer so it’s in the right spot, close to our porch. But once I’ve unhitched the car, I remember to look and see if the trailer’s level, and it’s not: I should have put a piece of wood under the left tire. 

I want to leave it as-is, but I can hear Brock saying it’s worth doing properly. Our trailer will be parked here for the foreseeable future, and I don’t want to sleep on an angle. So I re-hitch the car, and eventually manage to get the trailer parked with the wood in the right spot. After a celebratory rest, I pop up the tent.

By this point Isaac is already hounding me, asking when it will be 5pm so he can go back onto a screen. I suggest an adventure: the beach, a scooter ride, the trampoline. He gets angry and violent, so I walk off to Mom’s to control my temper. She calls him over to visit, but he soon returns.

The next few hours are unpleasant. Isaac whines and argues. Finally I suggest we re-set the day. Isaac agrees to go to the beach.

It’s a hot day but there are only about 10 families on the beach, well spaced out. Isaac swims, and we play in the sand. Evy and Hollis come down to join us just as the sun goes behind a storm cloud: she’s brought me a cider in a to-go Starbucks cup. 

Isaac overhears another mom say it’s 5pm, and he wants to go home.

By this point I’m just worn out. While I make tacos, Isaac plays Minecraft and freaks out when someone’s four-year-old sister starts pelting him with destructive potions. I intervene and try to talk him through it. When he re-enters the game, we ask the big brother to change the settings so Isaac won’t get killed.

We eat our tacos, and he whines for a movie night. I say no: books at 8pm. Maybe a movie night tomorrow, if he’s able to be nice to me.

He chooses to watch the first Harry Potter movie on the iPad after dinner. I think he’s exhausted too. We need an adventure, but tomorrow is the start of the May long weekend and this is historically the busiest weekend in the valley. I don’t know if the usual hordes of Albertans will come, given the pandemic, but it’s safe to expect an exponential population growth.

I saw the Drive BC alert below on Facebook today … I’m shocked that a government employee was allowed to post it. This feeble attempt to stop the traffic is really all B.C. can do, without closing the border:

Ryan’s back home and will come over tonight. I need a hug.

May 15, 2020 (Friday) – DAY 61

Isaac finds his way into my bed at 1am, but falls asleep again when I move him back into his own room. Ryan and I wake up at 7:30am. Isaac and Ryan hunt and trap a HUGE fly that got into the house last night: they release it outside.

Ryan has to skedaddle for work, but we make time for tea and coffee. At some point he gets ahold of my phone and takes pictures for me to discover later …

Isaac invites me to play our Osmo coding game. Yay! I’m so happy he wants to do anything other than play Minecraft. 

He has his piano lesson with Arne at 9:30am, and performs “Hedwig’s Theme” (from Harry Potter) for the first time. I’m glad we’ve found a song that excites him. Arne will send more of the song for Isaac to work on.

We play Lego, for the first time in many days. Then Isaac sits at the counter and watches Minecraft YouTube videos while he eats the biggest breakfast ever: a “chicken in the window” with a second piece of toast, an entire apple, plus yogurt.

It’s sunny and getting hot out. I narrow down my shortlist for our annual award in memory of Brock, choosing two recipients this year instead of our usual one. I figure 2020 graduates might have a hard time earning cash, what with the apocalypse.

Dad inflates our huge flamingo floatie with his air compressor and we strap it to the roof of my car. We head to Kinsmen Beach, with Evy, my nephew, and our young friend Georgia. Georgia’s mom Ashley joins us later.

The beach isn’t crowded. I was prepared to turn back if the parking lot was busy. There are about a dozen groups, spaced out: families, but also groups of teenagers and adults.

We play for three hours, until the sun goes behind a dark cloud and all three kids are wet and chilly.

Isaac and I stop at The Station Pub to try out their new takeout ice cream offering: he gets rainbow, I get heavenly hash. The man scooping ice cream says there was a long line of cars coming from Calgary through Radium this morning. The May long weekend rush is on.

We stop at our mailbox on the way home and get our parcel of books from Chapters, including six Elephant & Piggie stories. Yay! We cuddle up on the porch and read all the books. 

Isaac and I go to check on Mom and Dad. Isaac wants to play soccer. I sit in the sunshine and visit with Mom. She’s hung up numerous hummingbird feeders, and Dad moved a dozen wheelbarrows of soil into the new bed he built.

We go home at 5:30pm and plug our pop-up trailer into our house’s power, then problem solve and flip a breaker and the lights work. Yay! We’re one step closer to camping out. Tomorrow night, I hope.

Isaac has two apples and a hot dog for dinner (?). Ryan brings us sushi from Fubuki. We watch Onward, which Ryan’s been wanting to watch forever (Isaac and I bought it months ago). They eat a bowl of popcorn each.

I read two books with Isaac and then he’s out. We did well today at being nice to each other — Woohoo!

To be continued daily …