COVID has certainly changed our lives in ways we may not even realize, subtle and nuanced, quite apart from the coping strategies we now employ, separate from the ever-present need to 'remember' maintaining personal physical distance for everyone's good, and the related necessity to observe special hygienic practices, and never, ever to 'forget' to have a face-covering handily in place when moving in indoor public spaces.

With it all comes a certain level of anxiety, it's inevitable, it cannot be otherwise, since our normal pace of life, all our expectations, our casual decision-making, our habitual way of living must all be filtered through the lens of COVID-19. One of the urgencies in living with the spectre of a highly infectious virus with horribly serious consequences for the health-impaired, the elderly, health workers and others is how to safely navigate the ordinary missions of life such as going to a bank, a pharmacy, doing the weekly food shopping.

When that time of the week rolls around for us, I've become aware of small buildup of stress related to shopping. Where once we  would shop whenever we felt like it during the day, and the expedition was a casual affair, now -- as in this morning -- we wake a little earlier, hurry through some routine things, say goodbye to our very unhappily aware puppies and hope we're early enough so the supermarket isn't packed with people concerned with the very same issues of avoiding contracting the virus as we are.

We wave and smile through our masks at some of the store clerks we're familiar with, take care to spritz our hands on entering the store and again on leaving. We remain aware of approved distances between ourselves and others, and we get on with our collaborative effort at getting through all the aisles and selecting all the foods that make up our weekly menu. Casual has given way to shopping as a grim necessity.

When we leave the store we're relieved and we remove our masks, grateful for the free passage of air from our nostrils to our lungs, and at last I can wipe my moist nose, and can see clearly without the interference of steamed-up eyeglasses. All in the nagging realization that this is bruited about as becoming a new reality in our lives for now and in the future. The incidence numbers of infections are steadily rising in Ontario and in Ottawa, both hitting record numbers of infections, hospitalizations and deaths.

The good news that Pfizer and a German pharmaceutical company have hit initial success of 90% positive in their third clinical human trials comes with the caution that more needs to be known about the seemingly successful vaccine; how long it may confer immunity, and the additional caution that once this particular nasty virus threat has passed others will continue to arise in the new reality we are now adjusting to, long warned of occurring at some stage. That stage is now.

Last evening my husband took out the trash and the collected plastics waste boxes and the organic kitchen waste for municipal pick-up today. I washed out our kitchen compost bin and left it to dry overnight. When we arrived back from shopping, my husband cut the stems and excess leaves from the two cauliflowers we go through weekly. In preparing breakfast, I added melon rind, banana skins, coffee grounds, tea bag and a half-bagel my husband couldn't eat. There, the kitchen compost pail is half-full already.

In the early afternoon Jackie and Jillie excitedly reminded us that we've been gifted with another in a series of beautiful days, to get out into the forest and make the most of it. First thing in the morning the sun was full out, but soon in came steely-grey clouds and the sun was obscured. For the remainder of the day the sun has been playing peek-a-boo with us, occasionally breaking through the cloud cover, then retreating as more aggressive drifts came along.

But the temperature had risen to 21C, and a balmy breeze was blowing, and the afternoon was getting on, and two little dogs were becoming anticipation-frustrated, so off we set. The landscape, sere as it is with the absence of foliage, seemed more inviting by far on this warm day with a blinking-sun presence than it did only a week earlier when the ground was in deep freeze, remnants of snow  remained, and our mitten-encased fingers were freezing.

Whenever the sun did manage to break free of the dark gathering clouds its exuberant warmth seemed almost too warm as we trekked through more open areas of the forest. Only a few others were out with their walking companions today, so the trails were free of people, the result being that Jackie and Jillie presented us with a more acceptable level of behaviour. We met a young woman, just five months' pregnant with her puppy bulldog, who was being trained even as they moved through the trails; tempted by tiny treats to bypass running headlong at people out of a playful sense of sociability. 

We met up with an old acquaintance who had informed us just before Thanksgiving that her family was preparing to host a special extended-family event for the day, seating some people in the dining room, others in the kitchen, and others yet in the backyard, coming to and fro, but determined to maintain a respectable distance between themselves, and we thought to ourselves; good luck on that one. Turns out they were forced by circumstances to modify their plan somewhat; fewer people, eight in all, two indoor sites and all went well.