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.
Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Dylan Thomas
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
Monday, March 30, 2020
Reality Cracking
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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."
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Saturday, March 28, 2020
New Blinds
It reminds me of when Mollie started driving. I took a day off work and told her that she could take the car into school if she wanted. After a long pause, she admitted to me that she didn't know how to get there. She'd been in the car as I'd driven the path to that school nearly everyday for fourteen years, but she'd never paid attention to where she was going. I was pretty shocked by that, but whats more, she didn't know how to get to Walmart. It was 2.5 miles away on the same road we were living on. Strange how knowledge has breaks like that.
Wednesday, March 25, 2020
Blogging Through
Someone made the suggestion to attempt to keep blogging even though the world has shrunk down to the size of one's yard or even balcony. I suppose that it is important to record these times. And blogging has been in the past a way that I kept my sanity during very trying times. If it helps anyone else, I think it is an admirable goal. One that I'd like to do, but will need to keep myself motivated.
On Monday our governor issued a Stay At Home order to the entire state. It was no surprise. It was more than obvious that it was going to happen. In truth, we can still go out for essential groceries, doctor visits, etc. But too many people gathered in the parks and on the beach last weekend and it was felt the best way to force social isolation. Nora, who had been staying away since the birthday party, and her friend Amber both called to tell us not to go out They would deliver whatever we need. Such sweet offers, but Karen and Ken both work in very essential industries. They are still going out anyway. They have finally agreed that it needs to be a to work and home situation.
I have been staying in mostly since my gallivant last week with my sister. In reality, we followed most of the restrictions we are living under now during that trip. The only directive that we would have abused would be the one about not leaving your community to travel to places nearby. I'm not sorry that we went. The behavior is not one that is sustainable now.
I've done a bit of knitting to keep myself busy. I finished (mostly) another pair of socks and started a cowl. I am going to attempt to be as proficient with getting items made as I was last March, when I was at least as stressed as I am now. I won't be able to sell anything in flea markets this summer and fall as I had planned, but there is always next year, right? My store will be better stocked because of it.
I'm really enjoying knitting the cowl. It is the Mistake Rib Cowl by Purl Soho and is a free pattern on Ravelry. The pattern is very simple, but enough to keep my mind busy so my thoughts don't run away.
The cowl is being knitted in a yarn called Drifter by King Cole. It is DK weight and consists of 25 % cotton, 6% wool and 69% premium acrylic. I'm knitting it with US size 4 or 3.5 cm needles. I really like the lightness of and softness of the fabric it makes. It has a nice drape and feel to it that is a combination of both the yarn and the rib pattern.
While doing all that knitting, I mixed it up a bit with a counted cross stitch piece. This one was a graph that I pinched off of Pinterest. I think it must have been a free pattern too, but I can't find the original pattern to get the name, or even what website it came from. I saved the chart simply as Celtic Cross. It is small, but somewhat intricate. It only took me about 4 hours to complete it.
I'm thinking about doing small projects to sell in my flea market booth with my knitting. I've looked through my books and there are many that I'd like to stitch. I have a good supply of fabric and floss. The only stumbling block is frames. The thrift shops are all closed, so I can't buy them there. And not knowing if they will open back up when this plague has passed, I don't know if I will be able to rely on them. I spent a few hours searching online flea markets and realized that it may not even be the best idea. Items shipped in come with the possibility of having germs shipped into my house. But even without frames for a while, I can still get the pieces started.
The biggest issue that I have been facing, and it really started kicking in on Saturday, is a deepening sadness at what is happening in the world. Covid-19 on it's own is enough of a shocker to make it feel like there has been A Wrinkle in Time. But there have also been earthquakes and strange storms and weather. Africa is even having a locust swarm. It almost seems that the four horsemen are riding together.
"And this is why we knit, Lisa"
How are you? Are you getting through this okay?
On Monday our governor issued a Stay At Home order to the entire state. It was no surprise. It was more than obvious that it was going to happen. In truth, we can still go out for essential groceries, doctor visits, etc. But too many people gathered in the parks and on the beach last weekend and it was felt the best way to force social isolation. Nora, who had been staying away since the birthday party, and her friend Amber both called to tell us not to go out They would deliver whatever we need. Such sweet offers, but Karen and Ken both work in very essential industries. They are still going out anyway. They have finally agreed that it needs to be a to work and home situation.
I have been staying in mostly since my gallivant last week with my sister. In reality, we followed most of the restrictions we are living under now during that trip. The only directive that we would have abused would be the one about not leaving your community to travel to places nearby. I'm not sorry that we went. The behavior is not one that is sustainable now.
I've done a bit of knitting to keep myself busy. I finished (mostly) another pair of socks and started a cowl. I am going to attempt to be as proficient with getting items made as I was last March, when I was at least as stressed as I am now. I won't be able to sell anything in flea markets this summer and fall as I had planned, but there is always next year, right? My store will be better stocked because of it.
I'm really enjoying knitting the cowl. It is the Mistake Rib Cowl by Purl Soho and is a free pattern on Ravelry. The pattern is very simple, but enough to keep my mind busy so my thoughts don't run away.
The cowl is being knitted in a yarn called Drifter by King Cole. It is DK weight and consists of 25 % cotton, 6% wool and 69% premium acrylic. I'm knitting it with US size 4 or 3.5 cm needles. I really like the lightness of and softness of the fabric it makes. It has a nice drape and feel to it that is a combination of both the yarn and the rib pattern.
While doing all that knitting, I mixed it up a bit with a counted cross stitch piece. This one was a graph that I pinched off of Pinterest. I think it must have been a free pattern too, but I can't find the original pattern to get the name, or even what website it came from. I saved the chart simply as Celtic Cross. It is small, but somewhat intricate. It only took me about 4 hours to complete it.
I'm thinking about doing small projects to sell in my flea market booth with my knitting. I've looked through my books and there are many that I'd like to stitch. I have a good supply of fabric and floss. The only stumbling block is frames. The thrift shops are all closed, so I can't buy them there. And not knowing if they will open back up when this plague has passed, I don't know if I will be able to rely on them. I spent a few hours searching online flea markets and realized that it may not even be the best idea. Items shipped in come with the possibility of having germs shipped into my house. But even without frames for a while, I can still get the pieces started.
The biggest issue that I have been facing, and it really started kicking in on Saturday, is a deepening sadness at what is happening in the world. Covid-19 on it's own is enough of a shocker to make it feel like there has been A Wrinkle in Time. But there have also been earthquakes and strange storms and weather. Africa is even having a locust swarm. It almost seems that the four horsemen are riding together.
"And this is why we knit, Lisa"
How are you? Are you getting through this okay?
Monday, March 23, 2020
I Went to Church
I went to Woodstock Community Church yesterday. The picture to the left was taken before I left Georgia last year. This morning there were no congregants in the sanctuary. The worship team consisted of an angel voiced mother of three who sang and played the guitar, my cousin who played the bongo drum and hosted the podcast., his son who filmed and one of our lead pastors. Other than them, there was no one in the building. And they were spread across the stage from one another. They were careful not to touch. I used to run the lights and video for the church. I am used to being in there long before anyone but the band and pastors are. That the sanctuary was empty did not feel all that odd to me. At the same time, being back there through the screen of my computer was very surrealistic. More so because of the reason that everyone is attending church from home. It feels like real life has become some ill written apocalyptic reality show. Suddenly, we are all on Big Brother and there is no where to go if you get kicked off the show. But yesterday morning, in a familiar place, with my people, it was very comforting.
Sunday, March 22, 2020
Aunt Edith Refuses to Isolate
Well, the animals are all making themselves comfortable for the duration of the isolation. But not all is well. I don't think my brother and sister are getting the idea. Both of them work in critical industries and therefore are still working. Considering that two of us have pensions and social security, I wonder at the fairness that we still have employment income when there are many who are just out of work. But the jobs were had, and needed before the crisis and will be after, so here we are. No good comes from questioning blessings I suppose. But the normalcy of their routines has them in a bit of complacency. It was normal to stop at the grocery stores on the way home from work to pick up this and that and they are continuing to do it. I look at it and think that it has to stop, maybe I should say something. There is nothing that we are out of at the moment that we have an overwhelming need to make a run to a most likely germ riddled store to obtain. Once a week might seem reasonable, once a month if we could do it, but not everyday. The work, grocery store, home routine needs to become the work, home routine. Saying that is one thing, but the implementing of it is another. They aren't willfully trying to be errant. In their minds, they are allowed to go to the grocery. Getting them to see that it's not a thing of can you go, but should you go is the issue.
So this morning I woke up to a message from a cousin to let me know that my aunt, who lives all the way across the country has "Refused to Isolate" herself. She and her other octogenarian friends are gathering in her home to watch the church service that is being broadcast via YouTube. What are you going to do? They are old ladies with DNR's who are choosing to storm the gates of Heaven I guess. It is likely that they will be refused treatment in a few weeks if they do manage to infect each other, according to the trajectory that this country is going in anyway. My cousin thinks that my brother, sister and I should join the outcry and tell Aunt Edith to isolate. Aunt Edith will tell us that she's old enough to do whatever the hell she wants. Mind our own business, thank you very much. Probably, she is just like my brother and sister and don't realize that it is a break of isolation.
Yes, our animals sleep a lot. It is their primary occupation.
So this morning I woke up to a message from a cousin to let me know that my aunt, who lives all the way across the country has "Refused to Isolate" herself. She and her other octogenarian friends are gathering in her home to watch the church service that is being broadcast via YouTube. What are you going to do? They are old ladies with DNR's who are choosing to storm the gates of Heaven I guess. It is likely that they will be refused treatment in a few weeks if they do manage to infect each other, according to the trajectory that this country is going in anyway. My cousin thinks that my brother, sister and I should join the outcry and tell Aunt Edith to isolate. Aunt Edith will tell us that she's old enough to do whatever the hell she wants. Mind our own business, thank you very much. Probably, she is just like my brother and sister and don't realize that it is a break of isolation.
Yes, our animals sleep a lot. It is their primary occupation.
Thursday, March 19, 2020
Last Road Trip
The weather was beautiful this morning, crisp, but warm. It was the perfect early spring day. Yesterday the governor all but stated that he was considering a shelter in place order. We are sure that it is coming, and soon. Everyone is panicking on that idea. They need to stock up so they can be comfortable at home for an undetermined amount of time. I had been listening to Covid-19 news since I had gotten up and was considering a brisk ride on my bike. My head exploded days ago and I'm at the point where I'm not processing what just happened anymore. Karen came into my bedroom and asked if I'd like to ride around while she did some errands. I really did want to get out, so I tagged along. A few minutes into the ride, she stated that she really wasn't feeling like doing errands today. She wanted to know if I would like to drive through the passes. She didn't have to ask twice. That seemed so much more welcome than hanging out in a car in a parking lot in Tacoma.
The Cascades through the pass are absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. Despite the reality that we would have no shops or restaurants to visit, the drive was worth it for the views alone. The beauty was overwhelming. The best part of learning geography in school was learning about how the different features of an area were formed. I'd studied how the two Teutonic plates off the Pacific coast we re pushing against each other causing the Cascades to rise out of the earth and causing earthquakes and volcano's. Learning about it was cool to my nerdy heart. But seeing it? Oh my, oh my! It is absolutely incredible. When I was flying to Seattle and saw them through the plane window I audibly said, "Oh my God!" over and over. I'm sure the people sitting by me thought that I was the luniest toon they'd ever encountered. But the beauty and the vastness of the mountains and the valleys is stunning. While I was blessed to see them from a plane and the comfort of a personal car on a well paved highway, I consider what Lewis and Clark must have experienced when they came on these giants after making their way across the country. Or considering the pioneers who made their way across them with a oxen and wagon and step by step. Those were some grimly determined people. They must have be both awestruck and overwhelmed with the task of climbing through them, but they persevered. I wondered at the overpowering tasks that faced them every day.
We ended up in Roslyn, which is pretty close to the center of the state. If you don't recognize the mural on the building in the first picture, it was in the opening shots of the show Northern Exposure that aired, I believe in the 1990's. While the show aired it was my favorite show of the week, the one that I made sure too never missed an episode. It was about a fictional town in Alaska called Cicely. The town is in actuality a touristy kind of place outside of a State Park, and because of the series, a cult destination of it's own. But today because it was the last day of winter and off season, not to mention the middle of the week, we did not expect crowds. When you add to it the shops, stores, restaurants, bars, theaters, etc were all closed the town was really deserted. I felt so lucky to be out of doors. I felt so lucky to be in a place I never dreamed that I'd see, or beauty that I didn't really quite fathom was there. I was just damned happy to be able to stroll around town.
The way home was equally as stunningly beautiful but my mind was filled to the brim with the world that we were in, the possibility that this would be my last outing, at least for a very long time. All my life I have read about the shocking beginnings of dystopian societies. I'd read about Anne Frank, Corrie Ten Boom and others who woke up one morning and the world they were living in was a threatening and eerily frightening. I'd read Issac Asimov. I read apocalyptic books, Christian, Pagan and secular alike. I have read books about pandemics, nuclear blasts, wars and acts of God that have in one day changed the course of the whole world. It feels like that is what has happened. A couple of weeks ago China was experiencing yet another outbreak from open markets. Like Ebola for the most part, it was an "over there" type event. UPS had a communications file that represented a full year of work dedicated to what would happen if that kind of crisis should spread globally. It had never been used. It was the thing of books and movies, of Chicken Littles who ran around decrying the falling sky. Now it seems to be our reality. Industries that promote social gathering have been ordered to close. Churches are closed. People are ordered to stay in their homes. We think we my be told that soon. That is why our outing was so good, even if limited. Two of my three children will go bankrupt. They work in the service sector. Everyone is living under threat of contracting a terrifying disease. This feels unreal. It's hard to fathom now. In a week or too, I'm sure that I will be wishing to go back to the naivety that I am currently living in.
I hope that you are safe, well stocked and staying healthy. I learned to hate the term "New Reality" when I had cancer. It is no less odious now.
The Cascades through the pass are absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful. Despite the reality that we would have no shops or restaurants to visit, the drive was worth it for the views alone. The beauty was overwhelming. The best part of learning geography in school was learning about how the different features of an area were formed. I'd studied how the two Teutonic plates off the Pacific coast we re pushing against each other causing the Cascades to rise out of the earth and causing earthquakes and volcano's. Learning about it was cool to my nerdy heart. But seeing it? Oh my, oh my! It is absolutely incredible. When I was flying to Seattle and saw them through the plane window I audibly said, "Oh my God!" over and over. I'm sure the people sitting by me thought that I was the luniest toon they'd ever encountered. But the beauty and the vastness of the mountains and the valleys is stunning. While I was blessed to see them from a plane and the comfort of a personal car on a well paved highway, I consider what Lewis and Clark must have experienced when they came on these giants after making their way across the country. Or considering the pioneers who made their way across them with a oxen and wagon and step by step. Those were some grimly determined people. They must have be both awestruck and overwhelmed with the task of climbing through them, but they persevered. I wondered at the overpowering tasks that faced them every day.
We ended up in Roslyn, which is pretty close to the center of the state. If you don't recognize the mural on the building in the first picture, it was in the opening shots of the show Northern Exposure that aired, I believe in the 1990's. While the show aired it was my favorite show of the week, the one that I made sure too never missed an episode. It was about a fictional town in Alaska called Cicely. The town is in actuality a touristy kind of place outside of a State Park, and because of the series, a cult destination of it's own. But today because it was the last day of winter and off season, not to mention the middle of the week, we did not expect crowds. When you add to it the shops, stores, restaurants, bars, theaters, etc were all closed the town was really deserted. I felt so lucky to be out of doors. I felt so lucky to be in a place I never dreamed that I'd see, or beauty that I didn't really quite fathom was there. I was just damned happy to be able to stroll around town.
The way home was equally as stunningly beautiful but my mind was filled to the brim with the world that we were in, the possibility that this would be my last outing, at least for a very long time. All my life I have read about the shocking beginnings of dystopian societies. I'd read about Anne Frank, Corrie Ten Boom and others who woke up one morning and the world they were living in was a threatening and eerily frightening. I'd read Issac Asimov. I read apocalyptic books, Christian, Pagan and secular alike. I have read books about pandemics, nuclear blasts, wars and acts of God that have in one day changed the course of the whole world. It feels like that is what has happened. A couple of weeks ago China was experiencing yet another outbreak from open markets. Like Ebola for the most part, it was an "over there" type event. UPS had a communications file that represented a full year of work dedicated to what would happen if that kind of crisis should spread globally. It had never been used. It was the thing of books and movies, of Chicken Littles who ran around decrying the falling sky. Now it seems to be our reality. Industries that promote social gathering have been ordered to close. Churches are closed. People are ordered to stay in their homes. We think we my be told that soon. That is why our outing was so good, even if limited. Two of my three children will go bankrupt. They work in the service sector. Everyone is living under threat of contracting a terrifying disease. This feels unreal. It's hard to fathom now. In a week or too, I'm sure that I will be wishing to go back to the naivety that I am currently living in.
I hope that you are safe, well stocked and staying healthy. I learned to hate the term "New Reality" when I had cancer. It is no less odious now.
Tuesday, March 10, 2020
Quiet Day
I have been feeling a bit under the weather for the past couple of days. Yesterday I just chalked it up to being a hypochondriac. I spent the weekend possibly exposing myself to Ground Zero in the US for Corona Virus and my mind was playing tricks on me. Today I know that it isn't so much the case. Arthritis is kicking my butt today. It isn't so much in one joint like it tends to like to do, but is an all over body experience. I'm feeling a bit like the Tin-Man with a good dose of fatigue to boot. Since these are not the symptoms of Covid-19, I am not so concerned. While we were in Snohomish at the tea apothecary, I picked up some arthritis and allergy tea. I'm having a cup while I'm typing this. I wonder if it will work because I think it might. Probably not. My arthritis has been around the block for most of my life. It can't be fooled by much. Still, the tea is quite nice. It's a bit sweet and has a hint of spearmint.
I wish I could put my faith in herbal medicines. I've lost all it in regular medicine. The ones that cure one thing will kill you for a different reason. Aspirin works well on aches and pains but eats the lining of your stomach and stresses your kidneys, that sort of thing. But then, if herbal medicines had been all that effective, modern medicines wouldn't have been invented. Then again, I have no idea what is in this tea I bought. Willow bark might be it's main ingredient, or something else. Foxglove anyone?
Karen tells me that snow is predicted for Saturday. My bones are telling me the same thing.
Monday, March 9, 2020
Nature Doing It's Best
It was raining on Saturday morning. The mountain was hiding in the clouds. But Karen told a friend that we'd go to the grand re-opening of her store. She has operated an upscale antique store called "Home Expressions for years. She first opened it in Everett. It did well there for years, but the woman she was renting the storefront from decided that she could manage a store like that. She decided to not extend Nicole's lease to open one of her own. So Nicole opened the store in Everett Mall. It just wasn't the right environment for a small antique shop. People who shop in malls want big chain stores. They want World Market, not a mom and pop. And people looking for antiques aren't heading to the mall. Nicole actually had people treating her antiques like it was a garage sale. It's a great store, but the wrong environment.
It had stopped raining while we were there and on the way home I still looked for the mountain. It still wanted to hide under the clouds. It amazes me how this mountain can hide. On a rainy day it is completely covered in clouds. You wouldn't know it's there. But it doesn't need a rainy day to hide. On a sunny day, if the sky is a pale blue the mountain blends in and I will be looking right at it without noticing that it's there. It's not a small mountain. It towers over the Cascades. When it's not hiding or blending into the hues of the sky it can be seen from hundreds of miles away. And when it does blend, I can't see it from the 40 miles that I am from it.
Friday, March 6, 2020
Windtossed
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At the beginning of last year my apartment flooded, leaving me homeless. I stayed out as much time as I could living in a hotel paid for by my insurance company. Then I spent a few months at my friend, Beverly's house as I prepared to retire my job and relocate across the country to live with my brother and sister. I moved here in June, leaving almost all my worldly possessions in a storage space in Georgia. I realize now, that I'm unlikely to ever go back to retrieve them. Still, the things that have mattered enough to bring along with me thus far are all in that compartment. It's not the kind of stuff that I am ready to put up on Craigslist.
But all of this has left me feeling listless, rootless. I feel like a tumbleweed that I saw blown around on the prairie in Oklahoma when I was young. Like something that has no roots.
I have spent a lot of time here trying to get various plants to root. I think it's a symptom of what I have been feeling. I've been successful with the plants for the most part. But I really haven't put much effort into getting my life to root here. I wonder if I feel like there isn't much point. I'm old. If I spend the energy to put roots here, they won't get very deep before I have to pull them all up again.
Agggh! I'm having such a pity party today.
In other news, there is Coronavirus.
I'm going to get dressed, go take a walk or a spin on my bike. I need something new to think about.
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