Day 107 and same old, same old

My dear cousin Mark has informed me that I'm being a slacker, not posting every day or every week, as I once did.

Once upon a time, way back in the times BC (before the COVID-19 pandemic), I only ever posted occasionally -- usually when I was sad, or mad, or bored, or feeling creative. Then the Bay Area, and later all of California, and later still most of the country, was put into time out, everyone stay at home and try to break the chain of infection. And I got bored, so posted a LOT.

I am still bored, don't get me wrong. But there is nothing new to write about, nothing happy to say. It is as if the world has gone into a holding pattern. Will this virus be contained? Will it wipe out 99% of humans? Will something in between happen?

Today the EU announced that they were banning visitors from 14 countries where the virus is still rampant -- and right up there in that shameful group is the US. We have officially become one of the "shit hole countries" our president railed about and tried limit visitors and immigrants from. The US is a laughing stock around the world and treated like a leper because of the federal (lack of) response to this pandemic.

This week, the newspapers told us that Russian president Putin had put out a bounty on US soldiers in Afghanistan. And our president has known about it for a year. And there was no official outcry or condemnation; instead our president pushed to have Russia readmitted to the G7 (8). Well, looks like it may become the G6 since no one wants Americans to come to the meeting.

Today is 124 days until election day. A lot can happen in 124 days. And I could sit on the edge of my seat waiting and watching. Or I could go back to weaving and quilting and gardening and potion concocting. That's what I think I'll do.

But I'll also try to post more often to help keep my dear cousin Mark from getting bored. He often gets into trouble when he is bored.

Day whatever (78 but who's counting anymore?) and there is no normal, new or otherwise

Backstory -- eight days ago, on May 25, 4 white cops detained a black man they suspected of passing a counterfeit $20 bill. (Turns out it wasn't.) During the arrest, which he did not resist, one of the cops knelt on the man's neck. For 6 minutes. Need I tell you, the man died of asphyxiation?

Very quickly, peaceful protests were organized all around the country .

The 4 cops were fired. The kneeling cop was arrested and charged with third degree murder -- sort of what you'd get if you pushed someone down the stairs and they died. Need I tell you, some of the protests became less peaceful?

These more active protests were handled differently by different jurisdictions -- mainly based on the political party of those in charge of the jurisdiction. Democrat Mayors, Governors and Chiefs of Police where seen marching with, talking with and kneeling with the protesters. Republican ones, including the president, called out police in military gear, National Guards, etc, with tear gas and rubber bullets.

Everyone in the country kept waiting for the president to make a statement, show empathy for the family of the man who died, call for calm and unity. Right. Instead,  he tweeted that "when the looting starts, the shooting starts", and "the only good Democrat is a dead Democrat." Calm. Unity.

Frightened of the peaceful demonstrators in Lafayette Park, across the street from OUR White House, the chickenshit president spent Friday night in a basement bunker. There were photos of OUR White House with all the lights off.

Naturally, people started making fun of the "Bunker President", calling him weak and ineffectual -- which he was and had been all along. So, to show how strong he was, on a phone call with the nation's Governors he berated them for being weak and ineffectual and told them they had to "dominate" the people, and called the protesters "thugs".

On Monday night, he ordered the DC Police, Park Service, and Secret Service to clear Lafayette Park -- with tear gas. flash bangs, and rubber bullets. This "clearing" happened during his televised speech where he said he was "with" all the peaceful protesters (the ones being tear gassed a few yards away.)

Then, after the speech, he took a stroll across the now empty park, accompanied by a few of his toadies. This is the park where the president of the United States had ordered police to fire upon American citizens, to tear gas American citizens, so that he could have a photo op.

The president fired on the citizens so that he could stand in front of St. John's Episcopal Church, often called the Presidents' Church, without protesters and their nasty* signs getting into the camera's view. A church he had been inside of only once in his 3.5 years living across the street and then only because it was part of the inauguration spectacle. He stood there, holding up a Bible (upside down and backwards), pandering once more to his base and threatening to use the US Military to "shut down" the protests.

Today is Tuesday. So far, over 4,000 people, including journalists covering the protests, have been arrested. It could all have been avoided 8 days ago, by arresting 4 cops.




*nasty = anything that is unflattering to him.

Day 65 and the 'new normal'

What parts of our 'normal' today will we carry through into ... forever ... whenever?

I envision having a wardrobe of masks. Maybe a fancy one for going out to shows or dinner. Something fun for when I get together with friends and family. The ones that have been washed a lot and are a bit tatty might do for going to the gas station but not for the grocery store where I might run into someone I know. But, masks are probably part of my life for at least the next couple of years.

What about the weekly neighborhood cocktail parties, 2-3 couples only, spaced 6 feet apart? When everyone gets back to work, school, everyday life, will those continue? Will everyone get back to work, school, everyday life?  Or maybe once a month get togethers with a few neighbors, just to stay connected? Electronic communication will probably lean more toward Zoom, Room, Face Time and less toward plain vanilla phone calls.

What will "work" look like? Twitter has announced that their employees can all work from home ... forever. As other companies realize that employees can be just as productive working from home, will that become the new normal?

And as people realize they don't have to be geographically close to where they work, will there be a gradual (or not so gradual) exodus from urban centers to more pleasant places? Will we choose where to live by the climate, or geographical attractions, or closer to friends or family? This is where intentional communities can thrive -- you can live where you and your tribe choose, not where your employer happens to be.

Some retail workers will still need to go to a workplace, but already grocery stores are pivoting to self-checkout. Mail and packages will still need to be delivered, but drones and robots are starting to take that over. Manufacturing has already been invaded by the robots.

Restaurants and bars cannot be digitized or "remoted" but when will people feel safe again to congregate?

Will most sports spectators still want to watch in person? Or will TV be good enough? How about "live" theater? There is something to be said for experiencing those up close and personal.

How will school change? Will El-Hi school become more fragmented? English and History classes online; Math and Science classes in a lab; fewer students in each class? How will young children be socialized? Will there still be day-care and pre-school?

Note to self: revisit this on 5/20/2025

Day 60 and face masks

Sewing, especially quilting, is my hobby, my "happy time", my diversion and never more so than during this pandemic quarantine.

When I sew a baby bib or a quilt, I think about the intended recipient while designing the pattern, while pulling the fabric, while cutting and sewing and layering and basting and quilting and binding. It is a meditative and contemplative process wherein I pour my love, happy thoughts and good wishes.

When wearing face masks was mandated for seniors, later for all people in public places, I made one for myself. I did that so I wouldn't be dipping into the limited stock available for front line workers. Then, I made two more which I later gave to my gardener and his wife. Recently, a family member requested several for a special event and I am in the process of finishing those.

 I still try to think about the recipients who are friends and family members but it is difficult and the process becomes more of a chore than the act of love it should be. Love, happy thoughts and good wishes seem to be pushed aside when I sew face masks, to be replaced by rage.

Rage. Not sadness. Rage at the stupidity, cruelty and utter malice of our national government's handling of this pandemic crisis. That home sewists are being asked to do this, like we are still a pre-industrialized nation. That the US in the 21st century is not leading the effort to contain and cure this disease, but is asking citizens to die for an economic bailout that will only benefit some large corporations. That many of our national leaders are politicizing this situation for their own benefit; and that they are enabling a large portion of our citizens to selfishly endanger their neighbors for THEIR own political purposes.

At a time when we have the opportunity to band together against a common enemy, many of our government's leaders are taking the politically expedient low road.

So, if you are a friend or family member and ask me to make you a mask, I will. I will search through my fabrics and pick something pretty and appropriate, just for you. I will work very hard to imbue my work with love, happy thoughts and good wishes for you.

But if you ask me to make 50, or 100, or 500, I will respectfully decline.  For my own well being, for my own mental health, I must limit the rage as much as possible; whether this means refusing to watch the political rallies disguised as presidential press briefings, or ruminating on stupidity, cruelty and malice.

I hope you understand.

Day 55 and what is the same

What about my life is the same as always?

• exercising
• grocery shopping
• visiting with my Stitch 'n' Bitch friends
• quilting
• reading
• gardening
• making 'medicines'
• weaving
• talking with my family

How is it different? 

• exercising -- instead of Pilates classes, I walk through my  neighborhood
• grocery shopping -- instead of walking to the store 5-6 times a week, at all times of day and evening;  I only drive there once a week, during Senior Only hours
• visiting with my Stitch 'n' Bitch friends -- instead of meeting at Sue's house (and usually carrying home yummy goodies from Scott's garden), we have a Zoom session and everyone makes their own tea.
• quilting -- pretty much still the same, since it is mainly a solitary hobby; but I am stacking up tops to be quilted for after the SIP is over and Jenna can help me baste them.
• reading -- I get library books from the Northern California Digital Library, on my Kindle, and never have to return them -- they just poof, disappear, after 3 weeks.
• gardening -- not much is changed, except for what I am growing, since the stores have a limited selection and supply of plants. There will probably be no basil this year, unless I can outsmart the bunny.
• making 'medicines' -- nothing changed at all, at all. Unless the cannabis plants succumb to some ick.
• weaving -- no change, except for what I listen to during. Governor Newsom's noon press briefings are the usual.
• talking with my family -- we seem to do this a bit more than before, mainly group get-togethers with Zoom.

Day 53 and America'a short attention span

People are getting a bit antsy about sheltering-in-place. Some states (mostly  with Republican governors) are starting to rescind their SIP orders and allowing all sorts of businesses to open, some with token "social distancing" rules and use of face masks and many not.

Nail salons and hair dressers and tattoo parlors are some of the businesses Florida and Georgia can't do without. Texas is letting restaurants open at 25% capacity so that patrons are spread out from each other and "encouraging but not requiring" patrons and staff to wear masks.

One Texas restaurant chain, which owns a restaurant in the next town over from me, has forbidden its employees from wearing face masks at work because  "face masks don't complement the restaurant group's style or level of hospitality." On the restaurant group's website, they say, "If you are concerned about your well being with respect to masks not being worn by staff or by other guests, we hope you will join us at a later date." Or, translated, "We are here to make as much money as we can and to exploit our workers and we really don't give a damn about our customers."

All of the health professionals say that wearing a face mask may not protect YOU, but it definitely will protect others FROM you if you happen to be an asymptomatic carrier -- and without universal testing, you have no way to know if you are or not. It only makes sense to try to protect other people.

The problem is, the president doesn't want to wear a mask because he is afraid he will look silly, or weak, or somehow not masculine. So he is encouraging his cult of followers to ignore the restrictions and get back to business as usual. He is so convinced that he will lose the next election in November unless the economy recovers that he is willing to sacrifice thousands of citizens to this pandemic.

He is encouraging armed terrorists to storm their state Capitol buildings to intimidate the mostly Democrat governors into relaxing the preventative restrictions.




"face masks don't complement the restaurant group's style or level of hospitality."

Day 47 and nothing to do with quarantine and viruses

First thing this morning, I drew the Five of Cups tarot card.

The Five of Cups shows a man in a long black cloak looking down on three cups that have been knocked over – symbolic of his disappointments and failures. Behind him stand two cups representing new opportunities and potential, but because he is so fixed on his losses (the over-turned cups), he misses the opportunities available to him.

In the background, a bridge crosses a large, flowing river and leads to the security of the castle or home on the opposite side of the riverbank – if only he can move on from the over-turned cups. The bridge is a message to 'build a bridge and get over it!'

As I soaked in the hot tub, I had this card in the back of my mind. Disappointments and failures, missed opportunities. Something my daughters' step-mother said last week, during our "Family Cocktail Zoom", about the mother-in-law we had had in common, also stuck back there.

My family dynamic, when I was young, seemed lopsided to me. My father was clearly dominant, what he wanted is what happened, what he said was law. I saw my mother as weakly, meekly, acquiescing to all he said. This was from a child's point of view, of course, and wasn't what was really going on. My parents adored each other and were, as far as they could be in the 1950's, pretty much equal partners. But what I saw was my Mom always siding with Dad when I rebelled, never taking my side. What we see, hear, feel, as children can shape our adult, or at least older, selves. Unconsciously or sub-consciously, I planned to have a different dynamic when I finally got married.

In Davy's family, I saw a kind and loving husband, doing everything he could to make his wife happy. What was actually there, and what Davy internalized, was a cold, stern, domineering wife walking rough shod all over her husband. Not a dynamic HE wanted to replicate in HIS marriage.

Part of the problem we had was due to our both being way too young to start a family, but that doesn't excuse us. He must have been terrified to suddenly have a wife and two babies when he was only 23 and had no job. No wonder he jumped at the chance to teach at East Carolina University. Now he could provide for his family. Also, his parents lived close by and he would have his mother to lean on.

I, on the other hand, had just been accepted at Syracuse University in the Library School. We were living in my grandmother's house, only a short way from my parents, and I had all of my support right there.  I saw his actions as being just like my father's -- he hadn't told me he was applying for the job, only told me after he had accepted it. We were to move hundreds of miles away; I was to give up my dream of graduate school; I hadn't even been consulted; I would be living near my mother-in-law who disliked me.

Too young to cope with the situation and each other, we separated, divorced and both lived near their support center.

Those who don't understand their own history are doomed to repeat it. Stay tuned for the next chapter.