Reflecting

 

I've been reflecting a lot today on the fatigue that everyone seems to feeling about Covid. It reminds me of my friend, Brenda. Right before her 16th birthday, where she'd be getting her driver's license and more independence, she came down with H1N1 influenza. The virus destroyed the beta cells in her pancreas and she was left a type 1 diabetic. It was truly tragic. At first she was offered hope that her pancreas might heal with time. But after almost a year later, when she was totally weary of the new normal of her life, she finally came to terms with the truth that this is just the way it's going to have to be. 

We are collectively all in the same place with covid. We are tired of wearing masks, We are especially  tired of social distancing and lockdowns! Like a diabetic teen who rebels, wishing to return to being able to eat without counting carbs or injecting medication we rebel against wearing masks and staying apart. We push and even ignore the safety precautions to pretend like life is once again normal. Many people just outright rebel and refuse to be responsible ever. 

Now we have a vaccine that promises to get us back to a more normal than we have seen in many months. We will be able to be together again, but having lost so very many loved ones and businesses, having lost careers and livelihoods it will not be the normal we long for. The same happened with Brenda; since she was diagnosed new technology and familiarity with necessary precautions have made her normal livable, but it isn't the normal she had before she got ill. Our normal will necessarily be different than it used to be. 

The good news is that help is on the way. The reality is we will never go back to the way we were pre-covid. Our normal will be different.

Happy Christmas week, if you celebrate. If you don't then Happy Dawning Eve. This is the last night of the Piscean Age. Tomorrow the Age of Aquarius will fully arrive. Happy winter solstice. Better, more light filled days are ahead.

Reemergence

 

I used to be an artist. I was actually pretty mediocre. Not nearly as good as I thought myself to be at the time. But I was young and could take classes of it in high school. It was really kind of a badge of geekness honor in the school where I went to be known as a frequent flyer on the fourth wing ancillary. I even taught a 101 level class in the college that I went to. I was still fairly mediocre. 

My soon to be son-in-law bought me a set of nice sketching pencils for my birthday. It had been decades since I actually just doodled. Interest in other hobbies, distain from my ex-husband and sheer exhaustion and depression are to blame for me giving up on the endeavor. His gift brought back the desire to pick it back up. Not only have I starting using the pencils, I bought myself a set of watercolor pens. 

Art is like writing. It gets better with practice. Atrophy happens with disuse. I am no longer mediocre, I have lapsed into purely pathetic. 

DIIIINNNGGG DOOONNNGGG!!!!!

 

My body woke me up at 6:30. I was despondent to see the counts still at 253/214. The days since the election seemed like going through birthing pains. But my depression didn't last long. Karen came into my bedroom to show me a text from Nora. Joe Biden had won Pennsylvania. For at least half of America a sense of hope has been restored. More than that, we have joy again! People are literally taking to the streets to dance and celebrate. 

Tomorrow we will have to face again the pain and devastation of the past 4 years. The next 10 weeks will be a battle as the other half vents their collective anger and despair. They aren't known for their civility. This is what I fear. But there is a light ahead. Better days are coming.

Vote

Our Voter Pamphlet arrived last week. We didn't get the ballots yet. They usually arrive a week or so after the pamphlet. I went online to check on them and found out that we shouldn't expect them until October 14. With so much voter suppression going on, I wonder about the advisability of sending them so late. The election is is three weeks. Of course it doesn't take much time to fill in a ballot and the closest drop box (besides the mailbox that we won't be using for this purpose) is less than a mile away. Once I get the ballot I can return it in the space of an hour. 

I am grateful for this. In Georgia most of my friends have already voted. But they have had to do it either with an absentee ballot or through early voting where they still stood in long lines for hours and not everyone demonstrated goodwill enough for others and refused not only to wear masks, but keep their distance. At least none of them reported redneck Nazi flag toting Rumpublicans and Proud Boys harassing them. 

I fear what is going to actually happen on November 3. Rumpublicans have already shown themselves to be a violent group, who while crying out for the same law and order that they ignore at their rallies. In a normal election I would read the resume, if not the curriculum vitae of the candidates and choosing the one who most aligns with my ideology. This year there is a much more important message that needs to be sent. theRump and his supporters need to hear the message strongly and clearly, "You are out of line and on the wrong side of history." I plan to vote a straight Democratic ticket and I hope and pray that the majority of Americans do the same. I am afraid that locking this maleficent genie back in a bottle is going to take more than the nation telling them they aren't welcome. I think that this fringe of society is going to cause problems for a long  time to come.

 

I Can't Believe I Forgot!

Do you ever walk into a room and can't remember why you are there? Or better yet, do you come home from the grocery store sans the one most important item you went there for? I do hope it isn't just me. I wrote the previous post with the intent of introducing our newest family member and completely forgot. 

While we were in Port Townsend Lady P's mother came by a couple of times a day to look in on the cats. Taylor has been a close family friend since she and Nora were in kindergarten. When they were eleven they picked up some kittens from a person at the grocery store. Nora's cat is named Simba and still lives with her. Taylor hasn't had  that stable of a residence. Her cat was originally thought to be a boy and named Oreo. That was until the already pregnant (somewhat questionable) Oreo gave birth to a litter of kittens. After that she has been called Mommas, and passed around between Taylor and her many relatives. Taylor asked my sister if she could come stay with us. We agreed with the caveat that she can come visit, but Mommas will stay with us. The cat is nearing thirteen years old and shouldn't be home insecure. 

Cheese has grown extremely feeble and spends most days curled up on a pillow. He ignores Mommas. Max and Ghost would be fine with her but she hisses and spits at them. Pippi is having none of it, and has attacked her a few times. But she gets as good as she gives with Mommas. Mommas is no push over. It has had the effect that Pippi is now more intent that she and I share my bedroom. I think she has chosen me as her person. I am very happy that Mommas has chosen Ken as hers.

So now this household consists of three humans, five cats and one dog. Hopefully Mommas will be the last creature that comes into our home. I worry about what will happen if we don't survive them.

First There Must Be a Catchy Title

Sorry once again for the long delay. There really is no excuse for it. I don't have any other pressing concerns that occupy so much of my day that I have no time to write. I do apologize for my neglect. Unfortunately, I don't have much of a plan to remediate the situation. It's not that I don't want to write. It's just that I really feel overwhelmed by the rapid fire crises that we have been embroiled in for the past four years. As we roll toward November the fever pitch of the insanity is magnifying by quantum leaps. The only ray of light is the increasing probability of a democratic tsunami on November 3rd.

It was the beginning of September when I last blogged. We had just spent an afternoon with the little girls. I have decided to quit calling them the three little kittens. With the volume of cats we have, the name seems a bit confusing. We met the little girls at a park. I was uncomfortable with the laxity of social distancing that was taking place. In general, all the groups were keeping their distance from each other, and most adults were wearing masks. But children are children, and it was a bit dicey. 

A few days later, my sister and I met a friend at the outdoor seating area of Zola's. And the next weekend we went to Everrett to meet up with Julie and Nikkle. Again, masks, distance and outdoors were employed to keep everyone safe. It still seemed a bit unsafe. And being out in a touristy area I was unsettled with the laxity that other people were exhibiting. 

A couple of weeks later it was my niece's birthday. Nora has been visiting, wearing a mask and limiting it to mostly outdoors for a few months. My sister wanted to have a small party for her. Again, it involved masks. But it also involved another child who at thirteen months old was unrestrained by any understanding of viral spread. I will be calling her Lady P.  By the time of this party the California, Oregon and Washington wildfires made the air quality in our area dangerous. We brought the party into our home. There were only four people (including Lady P) who were not part of our household and less than the ten people total. Even so, I spent the next day cleaning the common areas of the house. 

Shortly after, we went to the Port Townsend, Sequim area for a long weekend. It was much needed. The smoke from the fires was very unhealthy and we needed to get away. As it turns out, a thick fog moved in with enough on and off rain to damp down some of the fires and clear the air. That night the view was eerie, but the rain was welcome by everyone. Within a few hours of being there we were all feeling much better.

The next morning most of the smoke was gone and we had a day of just dreary weather. Even in fog and smog it is an incredible vacation spot. On the third day we woke up to a beautiful early autumn day. I have so many awesome pictures I want to use, but here is just a sprinkling...

Looking for Pizza in Port Townsend

Spooky church in Uptown

Best Crab Sandwich and Fish & Chips

Beautiful third day

We stayed in a cabin that was about ten miles away from either town. The cabin, while billed as a motel was actually a family farm. It didn't have WIFI which became a blessing. The greatest gift of the weekend was being unplugged for a few days.

It had the atmosphere of the Bates Motel if you were expecting a Holiday Inn. We weren't, but were still a bit uneasy. I'm glad we stayed. It was clean and comfortable and the owners were nice enough. Being away from everyone and everything was worth the lack of sophistication.

On arriving home, we made two decisions. The first is to push the genie back into the bottle and become more conscious to keep ourselves safe from the virus this fall and winter. The second seems contradictory to the first, but it isn't. We have decided to go on a similar trip just before the election. This time when we were looking for accommodations, we focused on places where people complained about the WIFI in the reviews. We found one that will have us sitting on a Pacific beach. The state will probably have to go backwards on lockdown and we don't expect the shops and bars to be open. We are just looking forward to a quiet beach in a cabin away from others and the vitriol of the election.

You know, I may just start calling the three kittens Ladies A, B and C.

How are you all doing?

In the Days of Corona

 

The summer is slowly strolling past us. In a normal year this would be a lament. In 2020 this is almost a plea. It would be a plea if it weren't for dread of what is next on the calendar. I love those FB memes that has someone questioning "Who had square dancing hurricanes for August?" Here in Washington, we have had plague and protest. Though, we have been spared the weather craziness the rest of the world seems to have been embroiled in. It begs us to question what is next on the agenda in the upcoming months. A volcanic eruption or a slide of the Andres Fault anyone? To speak of another meme, if 2020 were a birthday candle it would be a pile of burning cow manure.

And our government? What a shit-show! I am so sorry, but there simply is no polite way to express it. It's a daily sucker punch to any sense of reality. Jules Verne and Kurk Vonnegut could not have come up with a better plot. We have a president who is using a secret police and is empowering domestic hate groups to attack people on the streets. They are out turning peaceful protests into riots and murder scenes. The president himself supports white supremacist and terroristic conspiracy theorist. He is ignoring and empowering Russian aggression. And all this while his mismanagement of the pandemic response has cost the country nearly 200,000 souls and set us in a financial depression. And does anyone know what is happening with the children in cages? I cried tears of hope while watching the Democratic National Convention. I am praying for a blue tide on November 3. I feel like Princess Leah saying "You are our only hope, OBiden Wan Kenobe."

As for that last statement, this is me speaking from my imperfect heart. I don't think that the Democratic party can save us. We have to do the hard work, each and everyone of us, if we ever hope to defeat racism in our time. I was raised in the south. Racism is taught  to us with our nursery rhymes and fed to us with our pablum. There are values that are buried so deeply in the filter which we see the world we don't notice that they are racist, and wrong. I have been actively calling out and correcting my thoughts and attitudes and impressions since I was a young child. But I can't tell you how many times I read the words that I write and decide that I reject the idea as being just wrong. To defeat racism every person has to examine his heart and chose what is true and just. I see that as a huge mountain that must be moved. We absolutely must do this work. 

My personal life. Well, I have been very alone. Regardless that I live with my brother and sister and five animals, even the hermit that I am is feeling the sting of isolation. I miss having a church and friends to hang around with. I miss the little girls. We actually had them with us last weekend. We met them at a park. Everyone wore masks and we all kept our distance as much as you can with three children. It was good to see them. But it wasn't the same as having them in our home. And it wasn't as safe as I would have liked it to be The park was crowded. People were being polite, but children are miniature germ factories. I don't think it is something we will be doing regularly for a while. 

Financially we feel blessed, even though we live on the low income specter. My brother and sister are both essential workers. They have seen increases in both pay and hours during this time. I claimed my Social Security and along with my pension, I am making roughly what I made when I was working. And when that is compounded by no longer needing to buy such things as gas, clothes and lunches to get to work, I'm doing okay. This has been an adjustment for me, a long and hard adjustment even if it is a happy one. I spent so many years worrying about being able to make enough money to provide for my children and myself. And now I don't work, but the money keeps coming in. I am free to spend my days as I wish. And the money just comes in. I was five years old the last time I was in this position. I can't explain it to you very well. But trust me, it has been an adjustment.

Cheese is still with us. The first thing that I was told about him when I came here was to not expect him to live too long. He has defied the deathwatch for the fourteen months since. We don't expect that he will be here again for Christmas. He is so weak and feeble. But he is still fairly happy. He enjoys sunning himself on the front walk. He has his animal and people family here. He likes to lick the gravy off the top of the cat food, but he isn't interested in eating much else. As long has he seems happy and reasonable comfortable we will do what we can for him. 

I am afraid that if I don't end this here, it  will become another of the twenty or so drafts I have sitting in my posts folder. Even as I write this I am sure that something is happening somewhere that will have me shaking my head and saying "Never would I have ever imagined this in my wildest." 

Wear a mask, wash your hands, don't touch your face, and vote in November. #bluetide

Signs of Revival

I rode my bike past the market today. I didn't really need anything so no stop was made. But I noticed a sign has been hung announcing a new bakery to be opened in the strip. What a bold move. It felt incongruous to attempt to open a business as so many around it are still shuttered. There was no estimate on when it will be opened. It seems that even getting the correct licenses and permits would be a monumental task. If it opens, I will probably try it out. Though, I have never had Chinese takeout from the shop right beside it. 

My grandparents were children during the Spanish Flu pandemic. They never really talked about it. My grandmother talked about being taken out of school after her 4th grade year. That would have been about the time the second wave of the pandemic would have hit. She made it sound as if she'd been taken out to work in the boarding house her parents ran. She said that she was kept home to help cook and do the laundry. She was taught how to play the piano, garden and sew. I thought that she meant that was the end of her formal education until I found a high school picture of her on Ancestry. I suppose that what she was really talking about was the year or so she may have spent home while the flu was in the community. She was an only child. It would make sense that her mother wouldn't have been too keen to send her out to get sick. I wonder if my ten year old grandmother hadn't understood the reason that she wasn't allowed to go to school that year. The kicker on this is that while my grandmother was a very intelligent and curious woman, the skills she used her whole life, she probably learned in the time she didn't go to school. The only paying jobs she ever held were teaching and playing the piano and organ and sewing clothes for other people. 

I wonder if my grandson, like her, is developing the skills that will help take him through life during this time that he is being home schooled. 

Imagine That!

I walk away from blogger of ten minutes and the whole thing changes! I'm kind of up in the air on whether I like the new changes or not. Mostly right now, I'm thinking not. Really I think that right now when everyone in the world is dealing with their whole lives changing, making us adapt to changes on this platform is a bit sadistic. Can't we have any place that seems familiar and safe? Sheese!

Yes, it has actually been far longer than ten minutes. It's been about three weeks.  My head has not been in a good space. I produce quite enough words that I need to chew on that I was hesitant to spew them here. Truthfully, this is all new to all of us. A couple of months ago, I thought that it was fine to go to a birthday party because there weren't likely to be many children at it. Turns out, that party on the ninth of March was a really poor idea. But it seemed moderately safe and noble at the time. Likewise, closing everything down, it still seems like the right thing to do now. But there are people who are desperately hurting because of this. 

Recently I read a Facebook question posed by my friend, Warren. He is a chef and restaurateur who has spent months with his sole source of livelihood shut down by the virus. He asks:

"Okay Corono-folk. No BS here. I'm posting this cuz I want to hear what YOU'RE doing that is working, and how. Lemme explain: I really don't want to hear from anyone who's drawing a paycheck right now. You're advice might be legit. But right now? I'm thinking, 'Screw that". You know who you are. If you want to tell me how 'we're all in this together'? Post it somewhere else. I want to hear from folks who're actually trying to pay their rent or figuring out how to feed their families."

The question goes on, but Warren's frustration was just being vented and it isn't necessary to the discussion. 

Mindy answered, " I have been stuggling since February to pay my mortgage. No work and being let go in January was a huge hit to the family income. My husband is a painter and we live in the wettest state in the US. That means no work for months for him either. I have been getting unemployment since January but that is a measly $245 a week. My mom has been helping out with food for my kids and animals. I told hubby he needed to do instacart until painting starts back up. That has helped. Still can't pay mortgage and we are 3 months behind. The stimulus check that came went to one of the payments and the rest to our power bill. I have been applying for jobs, but we are still on lockdown and no one wants you to just show up. I have been denied for all the jobs I applied for. 2 were for the unemployment office doing intake reviews. So right now, we are just barely getting by."

Gloria answered, "We are losing over 2000 to 3000 a month with our business dried up"

Katie answered, " My husband and I saw our Airbnb's empty. We shut down our mortgage payments for a few months. We shut down a couple credit card payments. We rented our places out for a huge discount to short term renters.

There were many more answers, Warren has a lot of friends. I was struck by their frustration and their sadness more than anything. It is easy to say "Someone shouldn't have to die to protect your bottom line." until you are saying it to the person who is desperate and has no where to turn and no idea how long it will last. Shutting up and listening to them has given me if not a new perspective, at least a kinder one. There are no simple answers here. Many places in the US have reopened restaurants, including the one Warren lives in. But starting back up isn't as simple as unlocking the doors and putting out the menus and silverware. It gives a new perspective when I want to simply say that peoples lives are more important than a bank account. Yes, it's still true, but people need more compassion than that.                                               

 

 

 

 

Cheeseburger in Quarantine

The truth is that I'm a natural born hermit. Mother Earth sends us all to our rooms to think about the harm we have done, and I pretend to stomp off down the hall. But on the inside I'm a child skipping for joy. I get to spend an hour or so alone in my room with my books and my crafts. YIPPEE!!!

But I am only halfway a hermit. I have always been a friendly person. I put myself out there and meet people. I make friends every where I go. I have been friends with a lot of them for decades. I enjoy their company. But then I go home and I shut the door behind me. My shoulders relax. My anxiety melts away. I read my books. I poke at writing one. I knit and sew. I pinch sprigs off of live plants and turn them into another thriving plant. I pray. I remember. I introspect.

I prefer being alone a very large amount of time. It's difficult to accomplish when I live in 600 sq ft with 2 other people. We are blessed by being alike in this. All of us need our space a good amount of  time. We aren't perfect in balancing it, but we do pretty.

I was thinking today how lucky I am that my life basically hasn't changed that drastically yet. While it's true I can't go sit down in a nice tea room or restaurant, I have tea and food. I can ride my bike around. Karen and I can still drive into the passes and admire  the overwhelming beauty. I am blessed.

The reality is that the whole world has changed on a dime. People are struggling to the point of desperation. People are getting sick and dying. The whole world is out of work and on the verge of bankruptcy. The food supply chain is broken. How can famine not follow? And I don't believe that much is going to get better in this country for a very long time. My bubble looks nice right now. How long can it last.

Still, I was home inside my house today. The weather was nice enough to open the windows and let the fresh air in. I rode my bike around town. I found a pink dogwood tree in full bloom. It was lovely. On the corner of J Street and Main there is a house where the elderly sisters sell cuttings from their garden. I left a note on their table yesterday asking if they were willing to sell me a cutting from their geraniums. Today I rode by and there were 3 cuttings sitting out with a note asking that I pay $1 each for them. I only had a $5 so I left it. It's more like what the plants are worth anyway. The cuttings are healthy and I'm sure we will enjoy them. We have some violas that have self seeded from the baskets we had last year. I dug them up and put them into the baskets. The mint is coming back too. My brother doesn't like mint, but I have convinced him that it repels pests. It does, but cats are better. He wants to cut down the black berry and raspberry vines. I didn't argue. But we may need them if things get bad.

 I spoke with Mollie on Messenger for three whole hours. She was having a spell and needed someone to talk with. While we were talking Pippi Longstockings decided she liked the conversation and wanted to join in. Soon Max and Cheese joined us too. Mollie fell in love with Pippi. She wants to keep her. Good thing she lives in Chicago and can't come get her. Mollie found out that the bar she has been working at for the past 4 years will not reopen. She is upset because it was the reason she moved to Chicago in the first place. She wants to get out of that business anyway. I told her that she needs to start researching the community trade schools and colleges in the area. To get the country running again a lot of people are going to need to be re-educated to do different jobs. I will bet that there are going to be tuition assistance to bring about recovery. She needs to be in a position to move quickly when that happens. I think that she may have listened to me this time. But she doesn't believe me when I tell her that 28 is prime time. She is young enough to change her life and take it in a better direction. I hope she does anyway.

So now it's late. And it is in the wee hours of the next day. Maybe, just maybe something good will happen today. We can always hope.

Baked Potato

I make a mean baked potato. I really do. I make baked potatoes that are moist and delicious inside with crispy skins. Serve them with plenty of butter and a pinch of salt. It is a real feast.

When my mother died I had been over at her house for about a year taking care of her in the day while my sons were in school. I'd make dinner and leave it warming for when my brother came home from work. He took care of her in the evenings. I took care of her in the day. He got used to my cooking then, but for some reason he thought that I boiled those potatoes. So, my mom died and I didn't think that I needed to be over at the house every day. We were young, but he was 28 and I was 32. I thought for sure he knew how to cook a little. He didn't. About two days after all the family left he called me to ask how to boil a potato. "Mmmmm...you put it in a pot with water and put it on the stove. You turn on the eye and let the water boil until the potato is soft."  Then he asked me if that was how to boil a hotdog too. I lost a little faith in his intellect just then.

The truth that keeps missing me is that my brother loves potatoes. He especially loves them baked. Over the week we had gathered bits and pieces of left overs in the fridge, enough roast or sausage gravy for just one person, a couple of scoups of sour cream, assorted vegetables, but not enough of any to make a serving. I put the vegetables in the stone soup freezer bag. Then put potatoes on to bake. I cut a small head of broccoli and steamed it. Then I cut the roast up finely and added it to the sausage gravy. I heated that up in a frying pan by adding a quarter cup of water, and sour cream just for variety. And there we had dinner. And we used up left overs while keeping dinner fresh. My brother really doesn't like leftovers if he can identify them from another meal. There were too many kids in our family to have ever eaten them as children. So we are spoiled that way. But I am adverse to throwing even a few scraps out right now.

Here is the thing. I think the food distribution system is on the edge of collapse right now. We might be on the brink of a famine. Crops aren't being planted of harvested. And meat packers are showing themselves to be the hustlers they are. We can't afford to waste anything. I have a freezer full of meat and a pantry lined with canned vegetables. I have dried beans, rice and pasta. I'm pretty sure that I could feed us through the summer. But what happens in the winter?

I used to grow potatoes in plastic garbage bags. I thought that I could do it here, but Ken pointed out that it would draw pests to our house. We live by the railroad track. It will. He's going to bring me some of the 5 gallon buckets that people are so fond of using for almost everything. They throw them away where he works. I'm going to attempt to grow them in those. We can put a sturdy wire mesh over the pails. Someone told me that I'd need to get seed potatoes to do that. I've never bought a special potato to grow plants with. I just use whatever potato that is getting past it's prime and growing "eyes". Then I get really crazy and start thinking where I could put a chicken coup and rabbit cages. No, I'm not really planning to do that. My brother is a picky eater. I don't think he'd eat a family pet. And that is what he make them. He doesn't remember when the older ones of us were small. We almost always grew our own meat. I'm sure if I cooked a rabbit I'd be accused of slaughtering Thumper. It's just that the short term future isn't looking so bright to me. And that is if we manage to survive the Pandemic.

It's time for me to stop, to go to bed. After all, "Tomorrow is another day."

Whatever!

This is Grumpy Cat. He doesn't live here.

It's been a hard day here. I knew it was going to be one when I woke up. I was making my morning pit stop and my brother was outside the door in the hall talking at me. I could hear him talking, but without hearing aids, I had no clue to what he was saying. Then he started knocking on the door. There are two really easy ways to put me in a rage. The first is bother me while I'm on the toilet. The second is to talk to me when I first get up. I'm not a morning person. I never have been. I spent years after my children moved out of the house not having to talk to a soul for hours after I got up, and I prefer it that way.

The City decided to wait until everyone is working from home and dependent on their own bathrooms to do maintenance on the sewer system. As a result they blew debris into our end of the pipes and clogged them. We have been trying to get them out to "fix" it for a week. Apparently they came by before I woke up and told my brother we shouldn't run water for a few hours.

Ken is on vacation this week. He has a few months of vacation backlogged. He finally decided this would be a good time to use some of it. But with the stay at home order, after one day he is finding himself bored and antsy. Karen wants him to clean his room so she can paint it. I don't think he wants it painted.

The real problem is Karen. She was in a mood. Instead of asking for what she needed, she snapped at us. If I was doing something in the kitchen, she needed to get to something in what ever cabinet that I was standing in front of. When I was vacuuming she stopped me to ask when I'd be done with it. She was doing the same kind of mess with Ken. We both finally went to our own rooms and closed the door. The message got across to her. She apologized to both of us.

I think that we are all beginning to feel the unsettledness of all this. We are less effected than most, as we all retain our incomes. But it is more than income, though I'm sure that there are many who aren't getting far beyond that part of it. There is wondering when we can see the people we love. What will be left when all this is over? What part of the economy are perennial weeds that will continue to flourish and what will be lost to us forever? We say that our lives turned on a dime after 9/11, but not like this.

We watched "Resistance" tonight together. The movie is intense  We didn't talk while it was on. It's a fantastic movie. Maybe just not what we needed tonight.

Covid Isolation Day 2002, or who knows?

Really. it seems like forever. Even when my logical brain is telling me that it's only been about five weeks. I gave eight months of my life up to cancer treatments. This should be a piece of cake, right? Right? Anyone, right?

Yeah, well that's how it feels. The reality is something different. The only real correlation is the time of year that it's all happened. There is just something eerie about the timing of plagues coming just as spring arrives. I hope that this one won't last eight long months, that there will be a return to a more normal way of life as the summer months find us. Hopefulness is good, right?

An argument for social distancing

Back in the day, the days when I lived in Georgia and had three Walmarts on my way home from work, I used to stop at one or the other at least three days out of five. Usually it was picking up something that I wanted for dinner. But sometimes, shamefully, I was out of clean socks or underwear and didn't want to wash clothes until the weekend. Yes, Shameful. I know it. My sister doesn't like Walmart very much. Neither do I really. And there are alternative s here. What we called Kroger in Georgia is Fred Meyer on this side of the country and they actually do a good job at giving Walmart a run for their money. There were five Krogers on my way home. If any had been a Fred Meyer, I may never have stepped into a Walmart. It used to be a game with me to try to not go into Walmart for a whole week. I failed much more than I was successful. I realized to day that I haven't been into Walmart since the beginning of February. That has got to be some kind of record for my adult life. Sad as it is, if I'd been forced to social distance from Walmart back then, I might be a bit richer now. But that is a hindsight sort of thing isn't it?

I did break the stay at home order a bit today. Karen came in and asked me to take a ride with her to Enumclaw. It was supposed to be just a stay in the car, site seeing kind of trip. For the most part it was. The weather is just so nice. It's a pity that we can't go anywhere. So we drove there and the weather was beautiful, the mountain was wonderful and the air was fresh. We got to the town only to find out that the pie shop that my sister has been obsessed with for the past month is closed due to the virus. It's a good thing, really. I'm sure that if they were doing curbside pick up, we'd have ordered a pie from her phone and waited for it to be done. I tried to get her to tell me what kind of pie that she is wanting. I'm actually pretty good with pies. I think what she really wants is a pie from a fancy shop. Kind of like I just want to sit and have tea and a fancy pastry at a tea shop. Not happening right now.

On the way home I got her to stop at Safeway. I thought she might tell me what kind of pie she wanted if she knew she could have it. We call the one here in Auburn, Slow way. They have closed one of the entrance and exit doors. I'm not sure how that helps social distancing, but it's their door and their decision. The other door had taped off distancing marks and a sign at the door saying they were limiting the amount of people in the store. There was no line and no one at the door to enforce a limit. Karen and I walked right in. The store was packed. And sadly enough most people had no masks or gloves. Many of them were clueless about keeping distance. The items that we "needed" were no emergency. They were things that we could have done without. But while we were there...you know. I did stock up on quite a bit of meat to put in the freezer. I also got some french bread and mushrooms for tonight's dinner.

Going into the store was a mistake. It was frightening. Really frightening. I get that everyone is over this and just wants a trip to the grocery store to be normal. It's not something that we can accomplish right now. If you aren't concerned about getting someone sick, you should be concerned that they can get you sick. The line to check out was long at all the registers. The self check line was chaotic. It seemed like they didn't know how to form one. I never use them anyway. I just don't like them. There was only one line open with a cashier. Another opened while we waited, but both were 20 or so people deep. The person in front of me was a homeless woman who had a couple of sandwiches from the deli, a bottle of water and some chips. In front of her was a woman who had a packed out cart. I know she had looked back and seen the homeless woman. If it would have been me, I would have let her in front of me in a hot minute. But not this woman. She stayed in line while her partner went back and forth across the store to pick up even more items to add to the cart. After we checked out we went outside to find the packed cart woman and her partner standing, waiting on their ride. Karen and I walked down past the closed door to see a taxi with the window open. The driver was saying loudly "I'm here, but I don't see you anywhere." Neither Karen, nor I stopped to help. If the couple had been a little more charitable to the homeless woman, I think I may have. But Karma is a known bitch.

There isn't much point to the blog today. Sorry for the ramble. Hope you are fairing well.

Same Bat Time, Same Bat Channel

It's been sixteen years since the pink tee shirt was handed to me. Every year it's been a time for me to stop and gasp. I survived another year. To be honest, I didn't really expect to survive the first year. My oncologist put it this way.

"We hoped you would survive. We did everything we could to help you. But we didn't expect it. You are that miracle  that we hope for and never get."

Now, in light of everything that is happening, it seems like...I don't know. It just doesn't seem so shocking. Maybe it's the passage of time. Sixteen years is a long time. If I had planted a tree, it would be a mature tree by now. If it was a child, it would be learning to drive. Maybe not. Can you teach a child to drive during a quarantine?

I'd hoped there would be a cure by now. I've heard there is, but it's for those whose cancer is fed by hormones. Mine wasn't. I was ER/PR-, HER2/neu+++. If you know breast cancer it means something. If you don't it's better to not need to know. The president said the cure can't be worse than the disease. I wanted to take him on a tour of a cancer infusion center. The cure is pretty damned hard. And it's not a cure. It's a treatment. Nice fucking rock he has to live under. I'd like my language to be better, but it is what it is.

Sixteen years and I've survived.

A Different Easter

Last year I celebrated Easter with my home church thinking that I'd never be able to do it again. I was a few short weeks from moving all the way across the country. If you would have told me then that a virus would have the whole world confined to their homes this year, I would have told you that it wasn't possible. Churches don't close on Easter. But as a result, my home church like every other responsible church put their service online and I was able to worship with them again.

At Christmas one of the stores was having a buy one, get one sale. They had overstocked on hams  and were trying to get rid of them. We bought one for our Christmas dinner and put the other in the freezer. It was a fortunate purchase. We are well stocked on the basics and my brother works for a food distributor. He was able to get us fresh asparagus and four dozen eggs. We had deviled eggs, ham, asparagus, home made rolls and twice baked potatoes for dinner. But it is more food than we could ever eat ourselves. We knew it would be and had made arrangements for Nora to come pick up half of it to take home for their dinner. It wasn't the same as having everyone together, but not a bad alternative.

At sometime during the morning Carley called to tell us the Three Little Kittens wanted to come show us their Easter dresses and sing the song they had been working on for us. We hadn't seen each other since the beginning of March. I had purchased three chocolate bunnies and a small amount of candy to have as a treat for ourselves, and Karen had some plastic eggs left from other years. We filled the eggs with the candy and hid them outside the garden gate. We also gave them the bunnies. It is sad that we couldn't get close to them, or to Nora. But we did get to see everyone. Next year we will have a proper Easter afternoon.

After everyone left, I went to my room and Face Timed with my oldest son, Tim. I instant messaged with Mollie and tried to reach Matt, but wasn't able to get him on the phone. He told me his National Guard unit might be deployed to help with the virus, so he might be busy. I hope he's okay.

While I was talking to everyone, Cheese decided to join me in my room and napped on my bed. I don't know how he does it. If some cats have 9 lives, this cat must have 90. He gets so sick that we think he isn't going to make it. The other cats go on death watch with him, lying with him, grooming him, and even bringing things to him. Then the next day he's rebounded and is hobbling around in his usual manner. The only cat who doesn't pamper him is Pippi. I have to scold her for being mean to him. She will attempt to attack him when he is down. But she is our most feral cat and we tease that she has Virgo risings. This afternoon, she sat at my feet brooding because he was in the spot that she prefers. As soon as he got up she jumped into it and stayed there until it was feeding time in the evening.

I almost didn't take a bike ride. But the weather has been so good and I guilted myself to do it. But I really didn't have a lot of energy to put into it. Still, the view of the mountain was so breath taking, I'm not unhappy that I did.

If you celebrate it, I hope your Easter was wonderful despite physical distancing. And I hope that you have a wonderful week.

The Doughnut Robber

Jack has several videos that he has been working on. I can't wait to see how they progress. Though I will admit that I would rather see him be able to return to school and playing with his friends than having to fill his time with hobbies.

My hobbies have me filling my time with knitting and riding my bike. Right now I am knitting another pair of socks from yarn that I have had in my stash for many years. It is called Josh's Cat and is a typical sock yarn. That is a fingerling weight yarn comprised of wool and nylon. I have attempted to knit several things out of this yarn, but have never really been successful with any of them. I love the colors, but the variegation knits up strangely. I think the yarn was meant to be knitted into socks. But even as socks it makes an odd pattern that I'm not sure that I am in love with. They will be thick winter socks, and I already have plenty of those. I may just add them to the collection of things that I will sell in a flea market when flea markets are allowed to exist again. If they are allowed to exist again. I could just open an Etsy store, but that seems like a job. Flea and Farmer's markets seem like an adventure.

Do you wonder what our society and economy will look like when we all come out of this? I have been giving a lot of thought to it. In the fall, a lot of towns around her seemed to be waging war on the homeless and those who were living in alternative housing. Now the same people who championed those strict laws have found themselves suddenly unemployed and facing the prospect of being homeless themselves. I wonder if they will be so unsympathetic to the plight of low income people when this is over. I hope they will in the least be more compassionate and understanding. Not all homelessness begins with addiction or mental illness, though just the fact of homelessness tends to promote it. The same goes with access to medical attention and a whole host of other social needs that tend to be ideologically politicized at the moment. If nothing else, this crisis has shown a spotlight on how broken the medical establishment is in this country. The Spanish Flu Pandemic of 1918 nearly bankrupted the insurance industry. Too bad it didn't. Maybe this pandemic will be able to in the least, reign it in.

The Boogie Monster

This is what happen when a kid gets bored and parents get tired of educating/entertaining him. It's only 20 seconds long, but it's pretty good for an 11 year old. I told his father to stop limiting screen time. The kid is working on a career.

I've been entertaining myself with the fresh air and beautiful sunny days we've been having. It's been perfect weather to get out on my bike and ride around. It is amazing how fresh the air is with so few cars on the roads. And the temperature has been in the mid 60's and seems like it's going to stay that way through the weekend. The nice thing is that for the first time since I've been here, a lot of our neighbors are out in their yards. Many of them are doing yard work, but some are out playing with their children. Though, I can't imagine how hard it is to keep the children from wanting to go play with their friends. They can all see each other, but they aren't allowed to be close enough for the games we played as children. When my kids were young, I don't think that I could have moved Heaven or Hell enough to keep them away from their friends. I really don't envy the jobs of these parents right now. But from what I've seen around here, these are some awesome Moms and Dads.

The mountain was out in all of it's glory today. So I rode over to the park where I could get a better picture of it. The playground has caution tape around it. It was eerie to see it on a warm spring day empty. A month ago there was never any fewer than 100 kids there. There were a few people out walking, biking and skating. But we were all staying very far away from each other and no one was interacting with another group. I stopped here and there on the trails to snap a picture or two. But mostly, I rode my bike for the exercise. There were a few people who were on computers. The library is at the same location as the park. I wondered if the WiFi was still working. But then, I can't imagine why they would do that.

I rode around the neighborhoods around the park on my way home. Part of it is a great neighborhood that reminds me of the one that my grandparents lived in. But then the next street over is a derelict neighborhood. It made me wonder it just one person went out and tended the garden or at least picked up the trash if the rest of the neighbors would do the same. The houses aren't much different from one another, so I don't really know how to explain it. I loved the garden at this house. We had made plans to go to the Tulip Festival, but like everything else this spring, it is cancelled. It didn't stop the tulips from blooming and this gave me a happy peek at what we are all missing.

I'm home now. I had a chicken sandwich and some potato chips for lunch and working on another pair of socks. I have decided to call the sock pattern that I have been coming up with my Corona Sanity Socks. Knitting them keeps me sane. Though Maxx, the puppy cat has decided the circular needles  that I'm using are a good cat treat. He's been trying to eat them every time I pick them up.

What is keeping you entertained and sane through this very hard time?

Wastin' Away in Coronaville...Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt

Okay. The title of this blog is just something to say. If it was a YouTube vlog you could call it click bait. Not meaning to do that, but I really don't like untitled blogs on my Posts list.

The picture to the left is one that I took on my bike ride today. Actually, it's the best one I took today, and it isn't great even after quite a bit of cropping. It is of a twisted Juniper tree trunk. I have no idea why anyone decided that it was a good thing to place on a concrete podium on a downtown street. But it is there none the less.

While I was taking this picture I got a text from a local grocery store that my asthma medication had come into their pharmacy. I interrupted my socially distant bike ride to cross the street, cut through the alley way into the parking lot of the store. The medication was brand name, where I usually purchase the generic. I'm sure that extra $12 was worth the labeling and advertising associated with the brand...NOT!

Since I was endangering the lives of my family and myself for the benefit of breathing freely, I decided I should pick up some of the things we have run out of. The store was well stocked today with the exception of toilet paper and paper towels. We don't need either of those, so I wasn't too upset. What upset me was as I was unchaining my bike, I noticed a woman toward her car and spitting on the ground before she got in. WHO IN THE HELL DOES THAT? Seriously, in normal times it's uncouth, now it's public endangerment. I was so mad. I wanted to get in her face and yell at her. The best case scenario has 200,000 Americans dying from Covid-19, and that is if we get everything right. And there are too many people who aren't getting this right. There are too many people not understanding this at all.

Mildred Ratched put out a funny post today called What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger. I like her blog. She has a great sense of humor. And this post was funny. But I really don't like the saying at all. Usually, if it doesn't kill you it will leave you scarred and broken. I really don't like that I have been hearing this saying come up about Covid-19 as in "I'm young and healthy, if it doesn't kill me it will leave me stronger." or "When this is all passed, we will be stronger as a nation." Neither of which I believe. You don't fight a bear if you don't have to. If it doesn't kill you, you will be left scarred and broken. Maybe I should have named this post "Don't Poke The Bear."

Sorry y'all. My mood is better than yesterday. My despair has turned to anger.

Reality Cracking

I am cracking emotionally. When this whole thing started, I didn't think that it would be this hard for me. I don't have a full social calendar here under the best of circumstances. But I did have hopes to change that. Then I heard the term Corona Virus, and it was March. And I went to a birthday party that I wasn't so keen on going to. Slowly, like the pealing away of a rancid onion, the truth has made itself known. At first I heard the Orange Fool declare that it was nothing to worry about. We had it under control. Maybe it would mysteriously just go away on it's own. Now even he understands that the best case senario is that 100,000 Americans will be lost to this disease if we are smart...and lucky. As much as I was glad that he isn't handing out sugar coated false hope anymore, it is a jolt to know that the King Buffoon has come to understand he can't bully his way out of this. Firing Dr. Fauci won't get him the reprieve that he desires. I thought I'd do better than this. I  thought I'd be stronger. I've seen really hard times before. I know that they don't last.

I cry when I think of my children. Thoughts of my grandsons throws me into despair.  I cry when I see the pictures of what our lives used to be. Could those pictures have been from only a month ago, last spring, last fall, Christmas?

I have grown into the habit of staying in bed all morning, because why not? Nobody is going anywhere and nobody is coming over. What could it possibly matter if I stay in bed or not? I keep my pajamas on all day. That way when I decide to leave my home, I have to think about the decision. I can't just grab my purse and wander out the door. I have to get dressed. I have to be intentional with it.

I  attended church on my computer again on Sunday. It is so nice to have my home church back, even if I can't be in the same room with them. I chatted online with Beverly after the sermon. One of her daughter's is home from the University and brought a friend with her. There house is full. She shared some prayer requests and news about our friends. I told her that I'd been getting out on my bike for rides and she was surprised that I was riding a bike. She suggested that I could send her a few pictures when I'm out of  what I saw. It is something that can give us both something to do.  It's an idea, but I had to stop short of asking for pictures of her walk. I lived in that neighborhood for five years. I didn't want to leave when I did. I am homesick on top of everything else. I don't think I could bear to see the pictures right now. I sent her a picture of my bike, my street and the antique washing machine that someone had just stuck on the side of the road. I was unclear if they were trying to get rid of it. But it is the strange kind of quirk that I see around here all the time.

I would have liked to go out for a ride today. I had actually planned a bike excursion to some of the more quirky things I've seen out and about, but it is raining today, off and on. One minute it will be bright and sunny, but I will start thinking about getting my clothes on and it will suddenly be dark and threatening. We have even had thunder and lightening and hail. That doesn't happen here much. It rains, but thunder storms are rare. There will be no biking today. I am thinking about blogging about the things that I find for Beverly. It seems more interesting than a never ending dialog about which cat is sleeping on my bed today. Last night it was Maxx and Cheese. Today Pippi Longstockings has been keeping me company. Ghost comes in and out, but only stays in here if the Three Little Kittens are underfoot.

I tried to convince myself that it's the weather that is making me so emotional. But then the reality sinks in. We woke up one morning to we are living in the Twilight Zone. I have changed my voicemail message to say "Welcome to Panem, District 7."