One day when I was 18, I walked into Alley’s Store and John Alley motioned me over to the counter and asked me, in a low voice, if I would shoot him a deer.

Modena, Italy. Saturday morning and a strange quiet pervades this normally bustling Northern Italian city of 80,000.

Last week I dashed to Delaware to help my 89-year-old father, who lives alone, get stocked up — and mentally prepared to stay put.

My daughter Pickle and I are walking the dog yet again, traveling the dirt road loop that stretches around our neighborhood.

My mantra has been no talking about Covid-19 with our clients. So the staff meetings were brimming with only that.