The whole neighborhood is home and the grills are going. I sniff the air like Yogi Bear and start pulling things out of the freezer to grill for the week. My cousin from Vegas called to check on us. She is 10 years older and, if there was a liberal chart, she would fall off. We have been closer in touch since the passing of her sister, my other cousin, 15 years older, a couple of years ago. We don’t breach politics. We skirted the issue when she revealed her “psychotic event” when Trump was elected – sigh. So we keep it light. I love the sound of her melodic voice that reminds me of childhood.

She called yesterday and in our five-minute call, as I said we were on our way to pick up food, lamented that Las Vegas is a ghost town. It thrives on crowds — the Strip, gambling, sports events, concerts, conventions — now all gone. Then she suddenly began to rail on Trump, and how his “slow” response to the virus caused our current situation. I asked what about all the other world leaders and their responses? She said, but we are the greatest country, and he dismantled Obama’s emergency response team! I won’t go there but I dismissed it with, “Well, glad you are all ok, and can I call you back?” I don’t feel like calling her back.

I wrote this Saturday, and today is Palm Sunday. The whole world is experiencing Lent, like it or not. Lent is a time of reflection, remorse, a seat on a cliff in the desert, alone. It’s dry, prickly, and scary. Palm Sunday was mentioned by our Vice President, Mike Pence, in Saturday’s briefing. Before that, Dr. Fauci and President Trump, along with his Emergency Response team, gave a conference. It was encouraging. He takes his cues from his team, and gives not only information but whatever else is needed by our country’s governors.