Sheltering in place has been a dangerous experience. I’ve suffered burns from dropping ovenware on myself—more meals at home so more cooking accidents. It’s a good thing I don’t like bagels—failed attempts to cut them in half is a major reason for ER visits. Knives are just one of many ways to cause damage at home. On a mission to disinfect surfaces, I spilled a bottle of liquid bleach and it splashed everywhere, just missing my face but ruining everything I was wearing. Undiluted Chlorox kills clothing as well as viruses. Then I strained my back going through boxes in the shed in an attempt to get rid of papers from the last century. Stuck at home for an extended period, I cannot avoid having to deal with decades of accumulated junk from family members I no longer live with. But the most dramatic near death experience so far has been that I narrowly avoided being attacked by a snake.

My son Arthur completed the 220 miles or so of the John Muir Trail some years ago, carrying a 50 lb. backpack. He is my shut-in companion and has been dragging me around the local open space areas for exercise. The other day I did my longest hike ever with him, four hours. Near the beginning of the trail we passed a squashed squirrel—two-wheel rather than four-wheel road kill. I felt a bit like that squirrel by the time we got back home—truly flattened. However, the most spectacular part of the hike was when I cried out as Arthur was about to put his foot down on top of a rattlesnake’s head. The head was well camouflaged as you can see from the photo. Arthur was lucky that the snake didn’t lunge at him. He remarked that I seemed more concerned about the snake being crushed by his foot than about him getting a lethal snakebite. I think the creature was a juvenile as it was fairly small, with only a short rattle. Rattlers have to shed their skins to grow them. Arthur claimed that young ones are more deadly as they don’t know how to turn off the venom flowing when they bite, but according to snakebitefoundation.org, this is a myth.

When you ask people to describe what makes them feel dread and horror, they will  often mention a fear of snakes, even if they live in an area where these reptiles are rarely found. I must be an anomaly, as snakes don’t bother me. I’m much more perturbed by the sight of a harmless house mouse. Thus, I took a close-up photo of the snake with my camera, which Arthur thought was a very dodgy thing to do. Fortunately it chose not to turn its attention towards me. In fact the snake lay unmoving in the path sunning itself for quite some time—maybe it was digesting a rodent lunch—before suddenly deciding to slither off into the bushes.

Being accused of risky behavior by my son got me thinking about how coronavirus has turned etiquette and social norms topsy-turvy.

• Pre Covid-19: Going down to the local 7-11 with half your face covered up would have made the sales clerk think you were about to rob the place. Post Covid-19, the sales clerk would be freaked out if you didn’t have your face covered.
• Pre Covid-19: Crossing to the other side of the street when you saw a guy walking towards you would be seen as rudeness, and if it was a person of color, he might have found your action horribly racist. These days it’s seen as good behavior—social distancing by staying six feet away rather than causing someone to be six feet under.
• Pre Covid-19: A risky encounter with a stranger would be likely to involve sex. Post Covid-19, it’s letting a repairman into your home to fix something.

Walking back through local streets after the hike, I heard mariachi music coming from one of the houses. It sounded as if a party was going on, but the only physical guests were the couple that lived there, seeing their friends via Skype. Most entertainment these days seems to center around screen time—a poor substitute for face-to-face interaction.

On Arthur’s birthday a couple of weeks ago, we rented the latest Star Wars movie, The Rise of Skywalker. The scene that left the most lasting impression on me was near the end. The heroes had predictably beaten Emperor Palpatine but might they now be struck down by a Sith virus? That’s because all the victorious good guys were hugging each other. Not allowed in the Covid-19 era, although my stiff-upper-lip, old-fashioned British boyfriend would be quite happy to avoid all the California man-hugs. He finds them, well, unmanly, but I miss all the hugs between friends.

Many subscription streaming services have been giving people extended free trials during the coronavirus pandemic. I had to smile when I heard that Pornhub was offering their premium service for free worldwide for a month to help people all over the globe while away the hours at home with X-rated films. Sorry folks, that deal has now ended. But as far as I’m concerned, it wouldn’t matter if the service were permanently free of charge, I wouldn’t want to watch porn anyway. I’d much rather have the real thing. That would be my favorite form of risky behavior, but unfortunately my boyfriend is under lockdown 6,000 miles away in London. My ex is currently under a Stay at Home order in another state. In a strange twist of events, the young woman he left me for is also under lockdown thousands of miles away from him in Europe. Ironically, we are all involved in a form of social isolation symmetry. These days, sadly, safe sex is no sex at all.