domesticat's blog

Plan B(erlin), containment, risk assessments

Ever since Frankfurt, we've been on Plan B(erlin). After Italy shut down, and the first part of our plans were scrapped, we've been expecting more best-laid plans to fall. As of today, they have.

What we originally envisioned:

Preflight checks

Today, we fly. My first news this morning was an email from the Vatican:

Dear Visitors to the Necropolis of Saint Peter,

Following the directives of the Health Department of Vatican City State, and taking into account the development of the epidemic, the decision has been made to suspend visits to the Necropolis of Saint Peter starting Monday, March 9, 2020, until the foreseeable future.

I'd hoped they might hold off for another day or two, so we could get our tour in, but it's not to be.

Spellbooks and amulets

I've thought a lot about risk assessment and tolerance today. As a result of some conversations I've had, I'm aware that Noah and I may be unwelcome at some social gatherings tentatively planned for Prague. It stung—it still stings—but there is absolutely nothing to be done for it; we did a detailed risk assessment and made a decision that not everyone in attendance may find comfortable. It may well just be us, on our own, for five weeks.

I've started calling it "The Zombie Apocalypse Game."

Decisions

It took us a couple of hours of discussions before we came to a decision: we would still go.

We've had plans brewing for a significant work-from-Europe trip for some time, and we learned yesterday that the linchpin of the entire trip had collapsed, leaving us with a major hole in the middle of our itinerary, and a 100% plausible opportunity to seek refunds and not travel. That, coupled with the knowledge that coronavirus has come to Italy—our first stop—meant we needed to make major decisions, and fast.

Six years of quiet

This blog is nearly twenty years old. Twenty. Imagine that. My blog can buy its own smokes. (What? they changed the age for that? Fine -- it can still vote, right?)

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Wedding poem

I had assumed my life would never again contain concepts like 'anniversaries' and to be wrong brings astonishment, even to this very Pi day. The improbability of it takes my breath away, if I pause to think about it.

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