day eight

the new rush hour in manhattan, 5:49 pm of day eight, since greg began working at home.

i think we've reached, what the mayor is calling "shelter-in-place." everything is closed except groceries, pharmacies and hospitals. subways and buses are still running. greg and i went out when he finished work to pick up a few things from our local health food store, such as tortilla chips to have with the guacamole we'll make from all the avocados chanda's boss dropped off last night.

you can only see one of them here in this photo, just to the right of the feta cheese container, below all the juices and the chicken salad. peter worked all day yesterday, cleaning out his cafe; packing up food and emptying all the refrigerators. he divided everything up for his chefs and workers and himself. our take was so vast that i divided it up for my friend janet and for the neighbor upstairs (here's hoping that she eventually puts down rugs and pads). there was just so much and i know we wouldn't eat it all and i certainly didn't want it to go bad.

look at all the arugula they used for their delicious salads with pulled chicken . . 

we had four containers of milk and i gave two to janet and one to upstairs . . we kept the bananas for smoothies with the strawberries that you can see sitting behind them. what is in the big boxes?

croissants: chocolate, plain and almond, all shared again.

putting items away in the fridge . . i divided up the feta cheese also. i was frantically looking for containers to put cheese and chicken in. and i truly felt like crying. i feel like crying just writing about it. i just feel so sad that this wonderful business that this man had built, and who had workers who all loved their job and their boss, had to close. will they be back? will any of these places be back? how is italy handling it? chanda and i think they may just think of themselves as being on hiatus, and they will pick things up when the lockdown is lifted; that the landlords won't demand the rent. here, it's different. everyone considers themselves out of business and washed up. it's a devastating feeling.

 a band still plays in an empty washington square park, and a person meditates on a bench outside vesuvio playground on spring street.

st. anthony of padua on the left in a protective mask, outside the parish office on thompson street; and handbag sellers still out on canal street.

no fares for mohammed . .

even tougher times for ronnie g.

this afternoon at 1 pm, i did a live ballet class with tiler peck from new york city ballet. she's giving the classes on instagram tv, as so many other dancers are doing. there's merce cunningham classes, workouts with pascal rioult dancers . . all in everyone's living room, kitchen or basement.

pluto kept me company.

dinner  tonight was leftover corned beef and cabbage.