My mother and her friends wrapped bandages in WW11. I heard the stories, but never really comprehended the sense of urgency. This week an army of women have stepped into production of face masks for the medical staff on the front lines of the current emergency. One friend who delivered a few dozen handed them off to a nurse just starting her shift and was rewarded with a huge smile. 

 

It is true that the fabric most of us are using does not provide the filtering level of a proper mask. But at this point, floral prints are better than bare mouths. Cotton can filter out about half of the contaminants that threaten uninfected people. 

 

There is a sharp comment that has been taking up room in my brain for some time now. I have practiced how and when I might deliver it to someone I love. So far the perfect moment to launch it into the air has not arrived. 

 

In the present climate of contagion, though, my filter is improving. Making snide remarks seems even more counter productive than it did before all of this erupted. How could I want to spew verbal infection anyway? We are all just trying to wade through the morass of our germy surroundings.