“The practice of quarantine, as we know it, began during the 14th century in an effort to protect coastal cities from plague epidemics. Ships arriving in Venice from infected ports were required to sit at anchor for 40 days before landing. This practice, called quarantine, was derived from the Italian words quaranta giorni which mean 40 days.”
“History of Quarantine,” Centers for Disease Control and Prevention
Well, it’s not Venice. And I’ve apparently given up smell and taste for Lent. But quarantine, Juneau-style, ain’t all that bad. Here are some of the things we’ve been learning this week:
- Sweaty polypro underwear smells the same as laundry fresh out of the dryer.
- I only have to ski 10k in the same time it might otherwise take me to ski 40k.
- This is a great opportunity to use up that souring milk, or the cottage cheese that’s a year or so past the expiration date.
- Staying 6+ feet in front of my tall friends makes me look a reasonable height.
- Preparing meals by texture rather than taste is an interesting challenge.
- There’s not really much incentive to have another ice cream bar, or more chocolate.
- Cedar doesn’t seem to have caught my Covid yet. But if she does, thanks to the Mayo Clinc , I have some received some valuable advice.
“Don’t put a face mask on your pet. Don’t wipe your pet with disinfectants.”
“COVID-19 and pets: Can dogs and cats get COVID-19?,” The Mayo Clinic.
With apologies to Jesus and all those Middle Age(d) Italians, we’re not going to make it 40 days. We’re sure to run out of snow (although last day of skiing was May 6 last year). Here on il quarto giorno, we seem to be already dragging anchor.
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