Tra La! It’s May! The lusty month of May!

That darling month when everyone throws self-control away

It’s time to do a Wretched thing or two,

And try to make each precious day one you’ll always rue! –Guenevere in “Camelot”

Greetings Dear Ones!

Happy Wednesday my Darlings! It IS Wednesday, right? It’s NOT? Well, is it even May? I woke up to snow flurries… I am definitely losing my grip on things here—I’ve been hanging by a thread with such force that I now have acute tendonitis that is making everything from sewing masks to swatting May flies a sparkling agony for my left shoulder. I haven’t been able to lift my fiddle for weeks. I’m definitely tempted to do “a wretched thing or two”…but instead, I am going to take a small break from over-doing things for a bit and just be Quiet in the company of my darling sheep and fellow hermits. I’m weary and disheartened on so many levels.

By May 3rd, our Southern Vermont sewing cadre had sewn well over 5,517 masks for the Covid Crisis. One thousand of them were mine. I would be so very proud of myself if I wasn’t also bitterly disappointed that even masks and their wearing has become politicized in this wretched country. “No Good Deed goes unpunished,” chides Prudence. “No one asked you to spend one hundred and seventy hours covering every flat surface this home with what looks like muppet afterbirth.” Each mask takes me an average of 10 minutes to make—that’s over 10,000 minutes in the service to “my country” and the utter destruction of Hermit Hollow’s main living space. First I made them out of cloth I had stashed—sewing my way through 100% cotton renditions of memories, dreams, sale items, and girl-what-the-hell-were-you-thinking-s. Then, generous friends donated a mosaic mountain of similar stories from their own stashes, which were unsentimentally torn into six-inch strips, cut in nine inch lengths, fitted with elastic ears, and sent to hospitals, clinics, veterinarians, and birthing centers. Over and over the Past came back to haunt us all as beloved friends we had not heard from for many years came out of the woodwork to ask for masks. It’s been a HUGE labor of Love. But make no mistake, it is labor. Just ask all the similarly committed darlings with ironing boards set up in their kitchens and living rooms.

Remembering the Love part has been hard when I’ve taken a lot of the commentary on the mask debate very personally, which is a big mistake. I understand it all cognitively but still feel it emotionally. I find myself caught in sour loops of Judgment about what exactly our “freedoms” mean and where our responsibilities towards others and their comfort and safety lie. If I wasn’t so damn tired and sore, I would delight in all the absurdities. But I feel very challenged on a deep level—way more so than my average “opportunity for growth” that comes from cutting someone’s hemlines wrong or losing my car keys in the fridge. I’m trying to think about how I can learn or grow from this experience. I can’t help thinking that all the women knitting for the Red Cross in all the past wars did not have to feel so defensive of their attempts to help those on the front. Or did they? Does every person trying to do a bit of Good in this world feel simultaneously that they can’t do Enough and that they aren’t even sure why they are doing it in the first place?

As a means of comforting myself with a bigger perspective, I always turn to History. It turns out that we humans have been struggling with our social habits regarding phlegm and spittle for many centuries. To me, wearing a mask in public is the modern rendition of “Good Manners.” Is it not the duty of Civilization to create environments where it is safe to be Fragile? Where we hold honor and compassion for those NOT able to survive a struggle of the fittest? Inherent in the very concept of civilization is the idea that the weak will be protected by the larger community, that Gentleness is the awareness of how our strength might impact others, that through Grace we will not cause others distress via our own selfish impulses and needs? Through Good Manners, we protect others and demonstrate that moderation of our behavior is not just admirable, it can be downright Elegant. But to the Un-civilized, moderating their behavior is not a sacrifice they are willing to make in much the same way that the barbarian hordes who sacked Rome mocked the Romans for bathing weekly, trimming their nose hairs, and fretting about their bad breath (even going so far as to brush their teeth with horse urine to eliminate it!)

Manners do not come naturally to us. It was hundreds of Dark years (Ages even…) before we returned to Roman concepts of hygiene and decorum (thankfully, with less questionable dental remedies). From the Middle Ages onwards, we can trace the evolution of “Civility” through tracts published to aid the uninitiated who apparently needed to be told “do not attack your enemy while he is in the act of defecating…” (Daniel of Beckels, 1209) Whether he has ten bales of hoarded Charmin or not, it’s simply not Polite to pick a fight with someone taking a dump. (This might be a valuable reminder in these days of quarantining with emotionally fragile housemates.)

In our human and humane quest for propriety and kindness, wanna-be Gentlepeople have had to be told “in the company of grandees, do not openly excavate your nostril by twisting one’s fingers.” They are also advised to “turn away when they cough or blow out their noses, so that nothing falls on the table.” Good etiquette then demanded that they step on any globs and grind them into the floor with the heel of their boot: “If anything falls to the ground when blowing the nose with two fingers, it should immediately be trodden away.” (There is no record of how many people organized protest riots over this one.)

What to do with phlegm and aerosolized droplets from our mucus membranes has been the subject of intense scrutiny, right up to the present crisis today. In the fifteenth century, we actually had to be advised, in writing, not to blow our noses into the table cloth. Through the centuries, we continually have to be reminded not to blow our noses into our hands and then wipe them on our clothes. We must be told by Those Who Knew that “only tradesmen blow their noses into their elbows.” Those wealthy enough to possess a handkerchief had to be taught how to use it, as it did not come with instructions. In 1558, from Galateo, we learn “Nor is it seemly, after wiping your nose, to spread out your handkerchief and peer into it as if pearls or rubies might have fallen out of your head.” By the time every Gentleman carried a handkerchief, Kleenex came out with the campaign “Don’t carry a cold in your pocket” which swiftly made carrying a damp rag wadded up with your own boogers repugnant.

Let’s face it. We all think that Boogers are gross, even the third-graders who openly snack on them. Now, thanks to modern Science, we are learning that we are releasing virus-laden micro-droplets of all sorts of virulence and filth—microscopically contaminating our tables (still) and accidentally blowing our noses in each other’s hair and clothing. The medical establishment has been aware of this since the late nineteenth century.

Face masks were introduced for medical purposes in 1897 by Johann von Mikulicz-Radecki of Breslau, Germany and were nothing more glorified handkerchiefs tied about the face—guidelines that today’s CDC were just fine with only weeks ago. They were intended to prevent infection in the patients by limiting the amount of bacteria that could be spread into wounds from the droplets emanating from mouths of the doctors and nurses. They were not to protect the wearers from airborne diseases or viruses. They were to protect the patients. Cloth masks with ties were worn by medical personnel until the 1960’s, when they were replaced by non-woven disposable fabric.

Throughout history, we have needed to have formal instructions from the Enlightened/Educated few to elicit changes in the society at large, but now, Heaven forbid it be an Elected Official who decides to guide us! Then, we will be “oppressed,” in much the same way that wearing a seatbelt and not drinking while driving are oppressive. Can we not think this through for ourselves or will Royal and Celebrity endorsements be required? In the past, if the Elite did something, it eventually tricked through all strata of society. If Being Careful is fashionable, even Glamorous, then everyone will want to do it, right?

Like the curve of the virus itself, public mask-wearing will follow a Bell: A certain segment of the population will be rational and Graceful and embrace this fresh awkwardness with alacrity and they will actually manage to look damn fashionable doing it. (Think Catharine de Medici introducing forks to her dining table and coaxing her elite guests to stop eating their meat with their bare hands...) The middle hump of the curve will eventually, more or less, get off its arse and grudgingly follow suit—either to follow the trend or to avoid looking like those who don’t.

Those whose inner toddlers are running amok will be hosting tantrums at town halls, screaming that they need “their lives back,” that their God-given right to a pedicure is getting trampled, and petulantly insisting “you can’t make me wear that.” They will look to their leaders and wonder why they don’t have to wear masks. They will see those of us who do, not as Gracious, but as cowards sneaking away their Rights to Free Speech, Guns, and Haircuts. Let’s face it, there would not have to be laws for seat-belts, smoking, and acceptable norms about NOT pissing in swimming pools, if people automatically thought about what was best for their neighbor or themselves. But they don’t. So, a civilized society must put some muscle behind its ability to protect Everyone, even those who do not wish to be civilized or protected—folks who do not, as the fourth Earl of Chesterfield did in the 1700’s, see “Good breeding is the result of good sense, some good nature, and a little self denial for the sake of others.” No amount of good sense would have some people deny themselves the right to breathe all over the carrots at the grocery store.

Lord Chesterfield also advises, “Let your enemies be disarmed by the gentleness of your manner but at the same time, let them feel the steadiness of your resentment.” I am not making masks to create enemies, nor do I wish to elicit anyone’s scorn—especially after putting in so much effort to a cause in which I have so fervently believed. I think that wearing masks is a kindness to others but I do not think that vitriol towards those who refuse to comply is kind either.

I guess at the end of the day, my little sewing machine and I—and those like me—are getting a chance to live up to our beliefs and convictions, ten minutes at a time, which, thankfully, we are Free to do. I believe that people should be Safe, especially from other people. I believe in Teamwork—especially between Form and Function, Beauty and Science, Faith and Works. I also know that loving others is a skill to be learnt over the course of one’s whole life. Our lack of knowledge of another’s humanity is what keeps us enthralled—be it in unrequited infatuation or invested in contemptuous prejudice against them. People are neither as wonderful nor as terrible as we suspect them to be. Rather than mortify and depress those with whom we disagree, let’s let our mask-wearing be a symbol of Good Manners—a wish to protect from harm, a wish to preserve Friends, not create enemies. Let’s not just Look good, let’s also Be good.

Above all, let’s Be Kind. From Old English cynd(e) Kind relates to Kin. For all our silliness and magnificence, despite religion, despite politics, we are all a Human Family. We are ALL affected by this Pandemic. The concept of an “Us” versus a “Them” is causing more havoc than this virus ever will. When we hurt Some, we hurt All.

Please keep up your Good Work. Let us Mend where we can. I love you all so much, whether you agree with me or not.

Yours aye,

Nancy