On Tulips and Tacos

This blog post was started on Cinco-de-Mayo. I am not certain that it will be ended on this date. But I do know that I need to stop the disappearing act that I've been pulling on this blog for far too long. 

The last time I checked in I was looking forward to going to Skagit to the Tulip Festival. We went. I kind of mucked it up by being in an awful mood by the time we got there. Traffic getting there was terrible, making us an hour late for our appointment. And once we got there, well the kindest way of saying it is that the festival is lame. Maybe it used to be different before covid. Maybe there used to actually be something fun to do. Basically I paid to walk on crowded paths beside tulip fields. It looks amazing, but so do the fields of other farms you can park on the side of the road to see. I've seen it. I was underwhelmed. My pictures actually look better than the experience was. Unfortunately it is Karen and Ken's favorite spring ritual. We will see how this goes. 

We had planned to eat at their favorite (Mexican) restaurant after seeing the fields. When we got there it was crowded. There were dozens of bikes in the parking lot. We decided to go somewhere else. Karen asked if anybody had a preference. Nora said she'd seen a Thai restaurant that looked interesting. I said that I like Thai food. Ken said he'd never had it before, so Karen said let's do something else then, and that there was a town close by that had more restaurants. We got to the small town to find most of the businesses closed at 7:15 pm. They had a Jack's, a  Wendy's, a Taco Time and a hole-in-the-wall, mom and pop Mexican place. I ordered chicken nacho's. I didn't think they could mess that up. They used cheddar cheese. It wasn't impressive. 

A few days later I got the second dose of the Moderna vaccine. I was pretty sure that it was going to make me sick. I was very wrong. My arm hurt for a few days, then I was fine. I feel like I dodged two bullets with that one. 

So today (still Cinco-de-Mayo) is the two week mark since my shot. I'm good to eat in a restaurant. We had planned too. We even left early to beat the crowds. Karen knew a great place in Renton, so we headed that way. When we got there, it was closed down. Not to worry, we passed a hundred or more of them on the way there. She knew another place in Kent, so we went there. That restaurant also was a victim of Covid. I calmly said again that we'd passed many Mexican restaurants on out way there. Karen then decided we should go check out a place we'd eaten at in Black Diamond. We passed a Pho restaurant going into the parking lot. I said that we were eating Pho if this one was closed. We went around the corner to find out that it too was closed down. Then I said "You know, Taco Time will do." not really being serious. Karen seriously jumped on it. I should have kept  my mouth shut and enjoyed the Pho. Driving to the Taco Time in our town, Karen was saying that it would be crowded and we'd be in a long car line. It wasn't because the casino across the street was having a party. Neither Karen nor I were interested in eating from the casino buffet so Taco Time drive thru it was.  

No margarita and eating at the coffee table. Let's YouTube a Mariachi band. Such a celebration, we should do this every year. 

Sorry about this tone, especially after being gone for a month again. I have come to the realization that my sister became a chef because she has an overwhelming compulsion to control the food supply. I had taken over cooking for the family, but it made her so unhappy that I had to concede that back. And well, unless the restaurant is her choice she's going to torpedo it. The restaurants I understand. She's a vegetarian and wants one where she's likely to find something on the menu. It still frustrates me.

Tomorrow I'm going to Zola's and eating in the restaurant. I'm not taking my sister because I can just hear that conversation in my head..."I know this other restaurant that I used to go to. We could try that out. We can eat at Zola's anytime." Sure thing...

Please stay. See, I have pretty pictures.

Balmy

The weather is beautiful, warm and breezy, the perfect spring day. It's peaceful essence reminds me of so many similar days when just being in the sunshine and air was enough. The television had to go off. I need no talking heads to spoil the mood. The doors and windows had to be opened to bring all that goodness inside. Days like today are what I think Heaven must surely be like.

Just Say Something

Cheese is still with us, but barely. He is bone thin and shrinking by the day. His fur falls off in tufts and leaves bare spots on his skin. He is mostly lame, but manages to drag the back part of his body enough to eventually get where he wants to be. We carry him quite a bit when we can understand where it is he wants to go. One of the other cats is always nearby to defend him if need be. I am surprised at how loyal they are too each other. 

John from Going Gently said that his amazing success for blogging everyday is to just say something. Makes sense. This year, almost any subject I begin on quickly leads me to things that I cannot change. I'm not sure that his advise would be a good idea for me. 

I suppose I could write about my daily walks. Maybe the obligation would ensure that I actually take a daily walk. It is easy to talk myself into procrastinating that one. I did take one today, though I did not take many pictures. Even with beautiful weather and a perfect day, I was not feeling it. I did manage it. 

When I'm deciding on walks my inner teen wants to place the daily walk into the column of unnecessary societal obligations, when it actually belongs with the daily activities of healthy living, like eating something reasonably nutritious and brushing your teeth. 

I think I've rambled enough today to call this "Just saying something". Maybe someday I will have something worth saying.

Laundry Day

Washday on the Maine Coast
N. C. Weyth

I did laundry today after putting it off since Monday. I often put off doing laundry on Mondays. Sometimes I put it off all month long. Not today, I only have two loads because I washed them a couple of weeks ago. 

We are going to see the tulips on Saturday and all three of the blouses I considered wearing were in the baskets. If I wanted to feel comfortable with how I looked, the clothes must be washed. 

It's a lovely day for it. It is sunny and on the warm side, with a good breeze. If I had a clothesline I would hang them out to dry. I would really like to have one but it is problematic. If I ask my brother to put one up, he will feel the need to make it perfect and that will put a lot of stress on him. Reversely, if I just decided to put one up myself he would consider it a slight and it will hurt his pride. Maybe I will just get one of the folding portable ones. I could plan my laundry for days such as this. Maybe I will... 

Absence

 

It's been a difficult winter. I had to quit writing so that I could deal with all that has happened. I am still not over it. The thing that happened put me into a IBD episode that led to a gut bleed. The accompanying diarrhea caused considerable dehydration and my kidneys took a hit. Time and care, and I'm doing better. 

I won't really talk about what happened. But I have lost Clifton, probably forever.  My spirit grieves. I have to place him in God's hands and hope for mercy.

And it's Monday

 

I used to hate Monday. I would be so happy at 5:30 on Friday, but wake up Sunday morning with  the dread that Monday was coming and I could do nothing  to change it. 

You are supposed to say that you loved whatever job you were doing, but I suspect that I was not the only person who didn't. It was mostly tolerable, but I would always want to be doing something else. I think in that way I wasted many years of my life. But simply telling someone that life is too short to spend it doing something unfulfilling is pointless. Most jobs aren't anyone's passion, and many people find it hard to make a living doing what they really are passionate about.

Now I sit and watch the world striving to get back to work. I wonder how many people are going to have the reset they need to understand what they are passionate about and how they can make a living at it. If I was an optimist, I would hope that it was most. But I really think that for almost everyone, they will find a job that provides a paycheck.

Crazy Dreams

 

Karen and I were out and about. We decided to pick up some Chinese to take home for dinner. We walked into one of the strip mall restaurants. The kind that has only a few small tables and rickety chairs in dining room. A large counter filled with specialty cakes and pies separated the dining room from the kitchen. A cow bell tied to the door alerted the cook that we had entered. The cook ignored us and continued to cook something in the wok on the stove top. Karen and I studied the menu for a few minutes. In reality we already knew what we'd order; beef and broccoli for me, Kung Pao chicken for Ken and vegetable stir-fry for Karen. They, like all Chinese restaurants had the items we wanted, but there were no prices listed. 

A few minutes elapsed before the small grandfatherly man came to the counter. He smiled a large smile to show off his ill fitting dentures and asked "Whadoyahave?" Karen  and I looked at each other with a surprised smile. The request reminded us of ordering greasy hot dogs and fries at the Varsity in Atlanta. Karen smiled her warmest smile gave him the order and asked about the price. At that the elderly man shouted "It's a dolla! Everything's a dolla!" Karen looked at me confused. I shrugged my shoulders up, raised my hands in the air and slightly shook my head to let her know I was confused too. Then I reached into my coat pocket and handed her two twenties. I said "Just give him this and tell him to keep the change."

I woke up a little hungry and decided to warm up the beef and broccoli and wondered if we'd ordered any wonton soup to go with it. I went to the refrigerator to find the left over meatloaf and assorted yogurts, protein drinks and condiments that normally inhabit our fridge. There was no Chinese food to be found. I looked around confused for a minute. Karen came into the kitchen and asked what I was looking for. It was then that I realized that my trip to the restaurant was a dream. There would be no beef and broccoli to find. In my disappointment I poured some of the hot water from the kettle on a package of ramen and sulked over my breakfast.

You Catch More Flies with Honey

 

I went to the grocery store this evening. I usually try to avoid markets on Fridays because of Covid. But there was a scattering of things that we were absolutely out of and I needed to go. I could have them delivered or call my niece to shop for me. But I am picky about certain things and I didn't want to have to argue over it. I went to the store my own self.

King County is back in stage one of lock down. Mask are required whenever you are out and about. The area is largely Democratic and is the origin of the pandemic in our country. We don't balk at wearing masks. But what some people consider wearing masks is of great question. 

While I walked through the store I encountered an elderly gentleman whose scruffy appearance shouted that he had no one to care for him. He was walking though the store with an overly used paper mask that hung well below his nose. I needed things in the area he'd been standing and breathing whatever germs he had into the areospace around him. I could have just waited until he left, but then I'd be exposed to whatever he has. Instead, I pushed my grocery cart by him and teased him saying "You know it doesn't work unless you put it over your nose." and winked as I passed him by. I would come back for the spaghetti sauce I needed. I passed him later in the frozen food section. His mask was still taking up space away from his nose. I gave him a reproving glance and said in a sing song voice, "Still not working." He huffed indignantly as he pulled his inadequate mask over his nose. 

We have a whole lot of work to do still.

Exuberant!

 

We are on our way back!

Afternoon Walk

 

I walked down I Street this afternoon. I don't think that I have walked down it before. I've driven down it and ridden my bike. When I do I have to pay attention to the road. It is extremely broken asphalt that is hard to navigate on a bike. The road is narrow and people park on the street, taking the road down to one lane. 

Walking gave me a different perspective from driving. I was able to view the neighborhood in a much more detailed way. I had never noticed before what a sad little street it is. A majority of the houses along it are in the same state of disrepair the street is. Many of the porches and yards had litter, old windows, buckets and furniture scattered about. Many of the houses needed to be sandblasted and painted. We are on lockdown again. A lot of people are back at home. I passed by them the whole time I was out. But not on I Street. No one was in their yards or enjoying the afternoon on the porch. 

I did find one corner of a yard that caught my eye. A table sat beside a cast-off window and some old yard ornaments. It looked artistic to me. I could imagine some Victorian housewife ordering it from a catalog and being so happy when it arrived. Now it sits, painted white in a corner by the fence.