With orders to social distance and stay at home to combat the spread of COVID-19, most peopleās home lives have changed drastically in the past few weeks.
And the Courierās editorial staff is no different.
From silly dance parties and home dye jobs to the dulcet tones of reggae and an increase in alcohol consumption, hereās how Courier editors, reporters, photographers and one intern are getting by when they arenāt working.
Jessica Kerr, reporter
My husband and I live in a 688-square-foot, one bedroom apartment in Mount Pleasant with our three-year-old daughter. With no backyard we spend a lot of time at the park, the playground, the community centre, swimming pool and the library, or having playdates with friends. So, to say having to stay in and practice social distancing has been a challenge would be an understatement.
When Iām not working these days, I am spending most of my time trying to keep my daughter, who no longer naps, entertained and explaining (again) why we canāt go to the playground. Weāve baked cookies, muffins and banana bread; made homemade playdough and played with it; painted on paper, egg cartons, the windows, a mirror and the bathtub; created an obstacle course around our apartment; taken walks/scoots/bike rides around our neighbourhood, while making sure to keep a safe distance from our neighbours; built the highest Lego tower we could; built forts; done living room gymnastics; had staged silly dance parties.
Sandra Thomas, travel and lifestyles editor
Two weeks.
It was two weeks on March 26 since I attended an event at YVR, which saw writers and bloggers flown in from across Canada and Washington State.
And I counted down each and every single day of them.
Iām not even sure why I attended, but as travel and lifestyle editor at the Courier, I somehow felt compelled to go to try and get photos of the empty airport. It was also just days before phrases such as āsocial distancingā became part of our everyday vernacular. That was also the last day I worked at the office and have been mostly self-isolating ever since.
But, as my fellow colleagues can attest, weāve been working harder than ever in an effort to keep up with the ever-changing landscape that is COVID-19. That said, I havenāt had an opportunity to binge watch Tiger King: Murder, Mayhem and Madness on Netflix yet.
In fact, without a commute, our work days have been starting earlier and ending later, but that doesnāt mean I havenāt been keeping busy in my spare time, including the full-on turkey dinner I recently cooked for just me and my husband in an effort to make room in our small freezer. Which, of course, later became turkey sandwiches and then soup, so a good COVID-19 method for stretching food.
The first day I worked from home I went on a quest to find toilet paper for a first-person story. And after witnessing shelves devoid of everything from pasta to bread to vegetables to saline for my husbandās contact lenses ā at three different stores ā that was the first time I started to feel anxious about the fallout from COVID-19. It was that pit-of-the-stomach kind of anxiety that made me feel sick to my stomach, which has lessened in recent days as life, at least as far as groceries are concerned, seems to have somewhat settled down to a (new) normal, but still flairs up when I read or watch anything to do with the leader of our neighbours south of the border.
Because of that anxiety, my husband has tried to get me to limit my news intake. But as Iāve explained to him, as a journalist itās just not possible.
One bright light these days is Facetiming with my son and being able to see our two-year-old grandson, Cooper. We were supposed to spend some time over spring break with a few of our grandkids, but of course thatās been postponed.
But technology has been a great way to stay in touch and a few nights ago I attended an online birthday party for a friend of mine and we were all able to toast her with a drink. Almost as good as the real thing, right?
We do get visits from our neighboursā cats Cosmo and Tito. Theyāre buddies who live in separate homes and often dropped by when I got home from work, but now that theyāve figured out Iām home all day, weāre seeing them a lot more often. Iāve basically become a crazy cat lady minus the vet bills.
One of my āfirst worldā issues is the fact Iāve been wearing gel nails for years ā I mean years. And, while theyāre still hanging in there, I give it about a week before I witness the horror of whatās underneath. But, all things considered, Iām feeling pretty grateful for the position my husband and I are in at this time ā just stay away from our toilet paper.Ģż
Michael Kissinger, editor
Self-quarantining with my partner and her 12-year-old āhygienically fluidā son has been a character building experience for me. My normally solitary home life has been turned on its head, and Iāve had to make some adjustments.
In the evenings, weāve been playing black jack (the kid had to teach me). We also partake in the classic Canadiana game of using an awesomely retro-looking Crokinole board my friend Brock gave me years ago.
If we havenāt eaten dinner too late ā weāve been eating dinner later and later for some reason and telling the boy child āitās the European wayā ā we will attempt to watch a movie or show that two sophisticated adults and a fart-obsessed tween can find mutually enjoyable.
It is tough.
Having exhausted just about every Will Ferrell, Wes Anderson and John Hughes movie, weāve been lowering the bar on āage appropriateā material as of late, having already accidentally scarred him by taking him to see The Favourite in a theatre last year. Who knew there was going to be a brothel scene?
So far, weāve watched Oceanās 11 (not terrible), Shaun of the Dead (funny and eerily fitting), episodes of The Last Man on Earth (also quite funny and eerily fitting), Good Boys (extremely raunchy but funny and kind of sweet) and a new true crime series on Netflix called (crazy).
Like my father before me, Iāve also started to regale the 12-year-old with tales of my generationās past hardships ā things like no internet, no personal computer or video games, wearing no-name runners bought at the Co-op, and a heck of lot more chores. He loves hearing these enchanting and informative stories of yesteryear. Ģż
Like many people, my partner and I had visons of urban homesteading and pickling everything under the sun, but honestly, weāre all pretty exhausted and testy come nightfall.
Probably the strangest and most unexpected development has been that Iāve started to listen to on Spotify. I am the furthest thing from a āreggae guy,ā but I honestly find it relaxing and uplifting after a long, stressful day of work.
Oh yeah, and Iāve been drinking a lot more.
Nothing to be worried about, but definitely more than I normally would.
Itās not doing my belly any favours, but it does help the unwinding processā¦ āand I can stop anytime I want.ā
Arguably the best part of this pandemic is that most evenings I talk with family members who are holed up in various corners of Ā鶹“«Ć½Ó³»Island. My survivalist dad has been sending us daily emails about his exploits including shots of his meals, which technically makes him an āinfluencerā in Nanaimoās fly fishing community. And my momās managed to set up a nightly video chat with 15 sets of relatives, including my 97-year-old grandmother. After about 10 minutes of noise and chaos on the first call, my grandmother had enough, got up from the computer and sat in her chair 20 feet away to read a book. All the while remaining on camera. Sheās one bad ass bitch.
Naoibh OāConnor, reporter
In a two-week period thatās felt more like 20 years, endless news has made it difficult to track days. Like the rest of the city, Iāve had to manage work from my home office (the couch) and COVID-19-related worries with family life. Managing might be a slight exaggeration.
Iām so absorbed in the avalanche of news during the day, Iām often not exactly sure what my 11-year-old and 13-year-old are up to. But Iāve seen some of my daughterās drawings, and she shouted downstairs to say she was working on some online math Thursday, so thereās that.Ģż
Otherwise, Iāve made a vegetable/chickpea/quinoa soup from scratch thanks to an Instagram recipe . Sheās cookbook author Ina Gartenās assistant. Garten is . I baked a chocolate cake, with cream cheese/chocolate ganache icing, for my husbandās 50th birthday thanks to an excellent ā and super easy ā . (TIP: I only used one quarter of a teaspoon of regular salt in the cake recipe, otherwise it's far too salty, and no salt in the icing.) , I recruited my 13-year-old to help me do my roots from a box ā a firstĢż ā one Saturday night while I drank a glass of wine. White wine, cider and cans of old beer salvaged from the office before my Courier colleagues scattered have been my vices.
Evenings have been spent watching ā totally inappropriate for my son so I throw a blanket over his head and turn the volume down once in a while or fast forward through sketchy parts (there are a lot). The series is about simpler times when all we had to worry about were terrorists, corrupt governments and double-dealing security agents. Iāve also started and squeezed Survivor episodes in between binge-watching online series.
My book club will soon meet again ā online, another first ā so Iām trying to secure the next book: . Not easy when . But one of the bookies plans to drop her copy off (from a safe distance and sanitized) when sheās done.
I called TransLink to get my Compass Card monthly pass, and the two belonging to my children, . I phoned, was put on hold, put the call on speaker phone, and continued working until ā two hours later ā the call was picked up. Total savings: $85.
I phoned to get my on March 24. Left a message. Forgot about it. Three days later, on March 27, I got a call back and secured a 90-day interim licence. Decent service, under the circumstances.
Thereās been no shortage of family issues ā I sent my husband across the city to UBC to drop off a piece of luggage to my niece (from a safe distance) whoās studying there. She had to take a last-minute trip back to Calgary ā not how she imagined her first year of university would end.
I stuffed three new pairs of pants in the front pocket of the suitcase for my mother whoās in lockdown at a long-term care home in Calgary ā my dad in December. My mom doesnāt understand why no one is visiting right now. When I , a former Courier intern offered to write her a postcard ā one of the many lovely gestures people are making during these tough times. Which brings me to Thursday afternoon. While listening to Dr. Bonnie Henryās daily press conference, I heard noises outside my door. After the conference ended, I opened the door to discover my mother-in-law had unexpectedly and household products, including toilet paper, on the doorstep.
Until next week Vancouver.
Mike Howell, civic affairs reporter
Like many living through these extraordinary times, Iām not sleeping much.
I get to bed way past my usual bedtime and then toss and turn until about 5 a.m., or earlier.
I head downstairs to what has become my office, turn on my computer and wonder where the pandemic will take my coverage that day.
It could be dialing in to several news conferences. It could mean a series of interviews conducted over my ailing iPhone. It could mean talking to people in the streets.
I always prefer the streets.
But Iām conflicted about leaving my home when I continue to hear Provincial Health Officer Dr. Bonnie Henry tell us to stay home.
Still, I go.
Physical distancing is always employed and Iāve noticed the few colleagues I do see out on the streets are adhering to the same practice.
But going out means having to look semi-presentable, which requires a shower, some real pants and an attempt to temper the volume of my hair.
At home, sweatpants paired with timeworn T-shirts is my fashion, which is the primary reason I chose a career in print over television.
There is some actual truth to that statement, but Iāll leave that for another time when the pubs open again and conversations arenāt about end times.
Upstairs, my teacher wife and Grade 11 daughter have been living through a spring break like no other. Same goes for my older daughter, who is in quarantine at grandmaās place after a disappointing trip to France.
No Louvre, no Versailles, no shopping.
The dog, meanwhile, has never had so much attention.
Rosie the black lab is a good dog, but she barks a lot.
I was informed of her loud mouth by a colleague when he heard Rosie barking while I asked Dr. Henry a question over the phone during one of the dial-in newsers.
Embarrassing, yes, but not at the level of that guy in the suit on television who had his young child storm into the room during a live BBC broadcast.
Just the same, apologies to Dr. Henry and Adrian Dix.
To unplug from the overwhelming news cycle, I try to get caught up on what I missed on Netflix, but find myself reaching for my phone for more news.
Reading a book is impossible.
Iāve found the only way to truly unplug is to leave the phone at home and go for a long walk. It has been my only exercise, and served the dual purpose of my brain taking a much-needed timeout.
Which has never been more important.
Society accepting sweatpants-wearing journalists with big hair to attend news conferences is also important. So is sleeping, which Iām going to attempt to do right now.
Dan Toulgoet, photographer
Week 1
Well, itās been an interesting spring break. The first week we were actually on Ā鶹“«Ć½Ó³»Island and avoided a lot of the early chaos here. It wasnāt till midway through the week that we saw the closures of a lot of local businesses. We were staying in the Parksville area and everything seemed to move quite slow, including the response to COVID-19. It was a relaxing time and we were able to do our best at social distancing; a few bike rides with the family were easy, seeing only a handful of people from a distance. After leaving our island retreat, it all changed. From the moment we got to the ferry terminal in Nanaimo, the mood was very different, a bit ominous. The parking lot normally would be full of chatty tourists, but on this day it was eerily quiet, people hunkered down in their vehicles even on the beautiful spring day.
Week 2
It was still the weekend so I thought might as well take advantage of the still beautiful sunny weather. Time to break out the smoker for the first time this year ā nothing says pandemic like some smoked baby back ribs. Soooo good.
With my wife, son and me at home and the weather rainy, puzzles have been brought out for the first time in ages and weāve played a few card games ā black jack is the favourite. We have this homemade daylight balanced light system downstairs from my sonās science project, so why not start some tomatoes inside this year and get ahead of the garden game for a change. They are coming along with little sprouts springing up. We were chatting about making bread the other day, so my son researched sourdough and discovered that to make sourdough bread you have to make a sourdough starter first. (Itās essentially stirred flour and water, left to sit for seven days to make natural yeast.) He will be making his own sourdough loaf tomorrow. Exercise is something we need to do as often as we can, so walks in the āhood are an easy one, especially in the rain.
Drew Clarke, intern
Iāve been trying to strike a balance between slowing down and making good use of my time. My mindās been a little chatty lately, so Iāve been doing regular yoga and meditation to relax.Ģż
I try to get out of the house at least once a day to get some fresh air. Iāve been exploring the backstreets of Commercial Drive and riding my bike around East Van. The other day I discovered New Brighton Park, which is a great spot to sit by the water and look up at the mountains ā and itās right in my backyard! Who knew?
Iām a freelance writer, so Iām used to spending lots of time by myself, but Iām making an effort to phone friends or family every day, to maintain a sense of connection to the outside world. That being said, Iām limiting my exposure to news and social media, so I donāt get too lost in my head.
Iām cleaning a lot more than usual ā handles, door knobs, buttons, switches, all the places that fingers like to hang out ā but Iām keeping it in check so it doesnāt get too obsessive or compulsive. The cleaning aisle at my grocery store is empty and the only spray I have is āgreen,ā so Iām not sure if Iām killing the virus or just moving it around.
Iām usually a very busy person, so Iām taking secret delight in this abyss of free time I currently have on my hands. Iām going from room to room in my house, minimizing all my junk, and Iām also picking up old hobbies like drawing, cooking and learning guitar. Iāve been consuming lots of comedy, like Rick and Morty and The Joe Rogan Experience, just to keep the dopamine flowing and my spirits high.
My taste in books has switched from creative nonfiction to dystopian novels ā Iām currently reading Jeff Vandermeerās Annihilation, and next up is Cormac McCarthyās The Road ā it feels a little counter-productive, but itās just what Iām drawn to right now.
Iāve been listening to a lot more classical music lately, especially Kronos Quartet, which plays like the soundtrack to the end of the world, which is fitting, because despite all the positive spin, I do feel a sense of impending doom. Itās like someone rolled a live grenade into the room and maybe, if none of us breathe, it wonāt go off.
In the meantime, Iām trying not to think too much, trying not to drink too much and quietly waiting for the wave to hit.
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