April 25th, 2020 - Dispatches from the Pandemic. Ravens in the Gravy Boat. Arundhati Roy "Pandemic as Portal.".

"Whatever it is, coronavirus has made the mighty kneel and brought the world to a halt like nothing else could. Our minds are still racing back and forth, longing for a return to 'normality,' trying to stitch our future to our past and refusing to acknowledge the rupture. But the rupture exists. And in the midst of this terrible despair, it offers us a chance to rethink the doomsday machine we have built for ourselves. Nothing could be worse than a return to normality.

"Historically, pandemics have forced humans to break with the past and imagine their world anew. This one is no different. It is a portal, a gateway between one world and the next. We can choose to walk through it, dragging the carcasses of our prejudice and hatred, our avarice, our data banks and dead ideas, our dead rivers and smoky skies behind us. Or we can walk through lightly, with little luggage, ready to imagine another world. And ready to fight for it."
 

~ Arundhati Roy  author of The God of Small Things and activist

From her essay "The Pandemic is a Portal" published in the Financial Times.

Sharing this quote from the WORK Newsletter by Natasha Juliana.  These are the final paragraphs of a powerful essay that provides a close look at the political and social machinations in India over the coronavirus pandemic. I find disturbing echos of this behavior here in our country.  I worry about our two democracies, struggling with the divisive actions of authoritarian-style heads of state, blaming others and ignoring the realities of the effect of the pandemic on their peoples, seeking to stay in power. 

Roy's final paragraphs offer a road map -- and a call to action. 

But oh my gosh, how I miss the gang down at   WORK Petaluma.  We would be having some discussions now, right?  Scrolling around the website, looking at the pictures posted of the folks in the office in a Time Way Before, I wonder what the re-grouping will be like, when we get the chance to group up again. Hope it's soon -- but not too soon. I don't want to risk another round of this disease by gathering too carelessly and quickly.


Like Natasha says in her newsletter,  I find that there are times when the only thing I want to do is dig deep into the earth, sit under our backyard tree with the wind and birdcalls around me. Watch the ravens dunk old bread crusts into the birdbath, like an oversized gravy boat. Ponder where they find those bread crusts. There is something here I don't want to miss, something I want to drink deep of, before we are ushered over the rupture, out of this portal, through the gates into an adjusted world.

April 24, 2020 - Mixed Up Journals from the Pandemic

Out of sequence! Here are the links:
Just a LIttle Ditty - April 24, 2020

Disinfectants don't cure from the inside April 24, 2020

April 23, 2020 - A Thursday in the Pandemic

Under Consturction! ;-)

April 22, 2020 - Earth Day in the Pandemic

I don't know where this wind comes from, swirling, skirling, bagpiping over the marshland, then bossing about the big trees. Oak branches bounce and dance, wind-wrestled and wild.  The tall white lillies, small trumpet-shaped blooms incandescent in the dull evening light, jounce and bow, stirred and restless.  Ravens get tossed up, flutter in place, then dive down to safety on branch or power line.

I don't know where this wind comes from, why it scours this flat land, punishing it with a fury meant for someone else, some other target, the way a woman scorned burns all the dishes and never repents.

We don't know where this wind comes from, this crowned virus that burns through the human-scape. righting some ancient wrongs perhaps, settling old scores.

April 21, 2020 Dispatches from the Pandemic - How can we re-open the parks?

Pondering the return to what might resemble normal life, because what else can we think about right now? Our brains search for some sort of predictions of the future - we want to be able to land on something. We need to be able to imagine our future.

Form a hike in February

I'm thinking that here in Northern California, we could start by opening county and municipal parks,  local places to help ease the burden of SIP.  Devise some system to limit the visitors -- odd numbered license plates on odd numbered days, even numbers on even days, as they did in the days of gas-rationing.  Or by location: you can visit parks within your county or city,  or within 5 miles or 25 miles of your home  - different locales might have different rules.  Cops can issue tickets of $1000 to violators when they run the plates. Maybe we can get the DMV revved up to send out special stickers to each county? Or randomized license plate numbers?  Run this over a few weeks to see how it works. People have to have some room to roam. And I think they'd be willing to stay local and wear masks and practice physical distancing for the privilege of a long hike. I know I sure would - I crave the vistas of a long hill before me, the feel of waves pounding on the shore, the call of those pesky darn gulls.

Heard some places limit attendance by letting the parking lot fill up - then the next cars have to keep driving, maybe to another park or return home. This doesn't help the small kids in the car, antsy to get out and run.  Hmmmm. Another tactic - hiking in one direction on loop trails, so you only have to worry about folks who pass, not oncoming hikers.

But what about the bathroom problem? Even if opened up, will people be too spooked to use the bathroom or porta-potty? Would they decide to go out behind a bush? or sand dune? That sure can't be sanitary.  This argues for staying close to home - or wearing adult diapers.

Think about how we can possibly live with this disease for the next year or two, until immunity is built. What safe practices can we build into our lifestyles? What strategies will we employ?

Below the Fold

Drumpgf got his knickers in a twist today because some people want to vote him out of office.
Well, duh, that's how politics works. If he doesn't like the hot water, he better jump out of the pool. Seems like he dropped by the show Morning Joe and heard some "hatred and contempt."  If  hatred and contempt from a few opponents bother him, then what is he doing in politics? Go back to the business world, where people toady up, if that's what he likes, because if he's in public office, he's gonna be called names and he's gonna have opposition. That is what we do. Really, we don't care if his feelings get hurt. My heart does not bleed one teeny tiny little bit for him. Not even a nanometer.

4/20/2020 - Sheltering In Place Chronicles on National Weed Day

4/20 in 2020 is more or less a bust. No big gatherings, no contacts, no contact high. Don't even want to get high. Just want to get Drumpf out of office. True dat.

I can't quite keep up with the pace of this blog, folks, but I'm going to keep trying. I have gotten out of sequence with the days, so please bear with me. I might post a few pages as "Under Construction" so I can maintain the ordering of the posts.

Think it's time to employ the 25th Amendment, don't you? This President has endangered lives and allowed people to die because of his inaction, because he is more concerned about the state of the stock market and being re-elected. (Because once he's out of office - whooie, mamma -- those lawsuits are gonna fall down upon him.) 

He's becoming erratic: see his whipsaw behavior around State responsibility for dealing with COVID -19. I mean, check this out:

•  first, the states must take full  responsibility to provide health care, get PPE supplies for their hospitals and devise thier own rules and regs about how to deal with the virus because he and the Republican Federal Gov't weren't taking any responsibility. They weren't going to provide PPE supplies on a national basis (even though that's their job), they couldn't supply tests, they weren't going to enforce a unified policy to defend against the disease. Enacting a full national shut down, due to our lack of testing and preparedness, would have been the only sure way to beat the disease - and he refused to do it. Up to the States, he said.
• Then, two months later, Drumpf insisted he had total authority to force the states to open their economies (which no President can do to a State) by May 1st. Clueless there, and obviously not listening to any advisor.
•  When the Governors rightfully refused to budge, he acknowledged the Governors did have the authority over their own states about returning to full economies. Someone must have gotten through to him about the legalities. Wonder how anyone does that?
• Then he publicly urged people in those states to LIBERATE their states* --that is,  to actively disobey the laws and regulations of their state and protest in groups for the right to re-start all commerce, to repeal the shut-down orders - in effect, calling for rebellion against a State Government. This is so against US Constitutional law that I can't imagine anyone with a grasp of how our government works is able to keep breakfast down.  

Who can keep track of it all? Certainly not Governor Brian Kemp, who decided to open Georgia right up, got approval from Drumpf one evening and then was called out the next day by Drumpf for opening too soon and too fast. When are these Republicans going to learn that Drumpf has absolutely no loyalty to anyone? No point in trying to please Daddy when Daddy is an Abuser by Nature  and simply changes the rules whenever he so desires. And laughs at you when you complain.

Why is this not the time to enact the 25th Amendment and get him out of office, so the country can begin to re-assemble, begin to heal?  Perhaps because the chaos would be insurmountable in this time of The Virus?
So we must VOTE HIM OUT.
You betcha.
I'm just not so confident that we will last that long at the rate he's going.  He is acting more and more erratic and the campaigns haven't even begun yet.


* And yet how many people really showed up to these Liberation Protests? And who were they, exctly? Seems like many of them were organized as groups to participate in this exercise, rather than a true gathering of citizens.  Most citizens with a solid understanding of the Germ Theory of Disease ( i.e. almost everyone except Drumpf)  support sheltering as long as we can stand it. As Robert Hubbell asserts in his newsletter, there weren't that many Liberationsist, compared to the many more who stayed away, keeping quarantine.  And given the contagiousness of the virus, how many of these protesters will be ill in two weeks, how many will need to be hospitalized?
So there is that.
We wish them well, we really do. But I didn't see much in the way of preventative action  (masks, distancing) in the few pictures I saw.

p.p.s. will look for the articles to support my points above.

April 19, 2020 - SIP in Place

Walking a lot this week, trying to get the yayas out, cope with the anxieties of the age. Being cooped up. Not knowing how we will function in a newer world as we wait for the vaccine to be created, treatment to be developed, or for the virus to bloom out of existence. Thinking this one will be around for awhile, with all our sloppy handling of it. Hoping our finances will weather the storm. Ordering everything for delivery that we possibly can. As time goes by, we are sticking closer and closer to home, like agoraphobes.  Time to get out the puzzles, card games, Boggle, Bananagrams.

On the Sourdough Front, we had cinnamon rolls fresh outta the oven. Oh my, yes. Thank you, Cory! We will be bakers before the end of this quarantino. There is a certain amount of pleasure on being able to rely on our own resources. Reminds me of the old hippie days. Bake your own bread. Grow your own food. Make your own masks. Share them with friends. Least amount of commerce as possible, certainly no purchase from corporate concerns. Help out your neighbors. The trade economy.

Meanwhile, reading these stories filed from around the world
NYR of Books Journals 
April 6 - 12, 2020

April 18 2020 - Dispatches from a Pandemic - Saturday morning: Holding.

Late morning and the birds are quieter now than those first hours of dawn. Still there's the wheeeeep wheeeep   from a flurry of finches.  And the wheezy high pitched whistles of the wax-wings, like listening to electricity escapoing from wires.

The air is soft and damp, full of impending rain. The sky, the clouds, the rain all feel held back, constrained, the way we feel right now, restrained, contained, quarantined.  A lazy wind pushes the pepper tree around, rearranging the drooping branches, heavy with pepper berries. A mockingbird flutters out of the pepper tree down to the  half-full bird bath and then back up to the fence, to hop along his personal train track.

The lilies along the back of the house have white trumpet-shaped blooms perched in rows along a central stem, little handkerchiefs draped along a slanting line. A particularly luminous, white catching and holding light, glowing even against the grey-white of the low slung sky. Tiny stamens drip with faintly yellow pollen and the pistil looks like a three-pronged fishhook of some kind emerging up out of the middle, the prongs tipping back in elaborate curls The fragrance is faint, at least to me, a hint of citrus, a touch of ginger.

The pollen, of course, makes me cough, makes me sneeze. And no one wants to be coughing these days. We hold back from coughs, we refrain from sneezes, not wanting to think of consequences, the train of possibilities, no matter how far-fetched. Any indication of illness, once brushed aside or ignored - a chill, a hot spell, aches in legs or shoulders - now carry that tiny electrical charge, that tiny bit of what if -- what if this is the first step.

We hold our breath, we hold ourselves, we hold back.

April 24, 2020 - Just a little ditty

The Liar Tweets Tonight

April 24 2020, Friday. Dispatches from the Pandemic - Drinking Bleach (don't do it!) and the USPS (save it !!)

SARCASM! DO NOT INGEST BLEACH

Looks like Drumpf has slipped the bit and is out there running off his mouth, sounding like the ignoramus he is. Are his handlers just done with him? Have they thrown up their hands, saying: hell, he can grease his own chute sliding out of office. I mean, really, his suggestion in Thursday's (April 23) press conference to kill the COVID-19 virus by injecting (or ingesting) disinfectant into a living body is beyond belief.

 Is he mentally competent? Has he ever taken one science class? I think not. What a freakin' moron. He needs to be held accountable for making insane, dangerous suggestions to a country looking for leadership. Which we won't ever get from him.

 You know, a true leader would offer to be the first to try a new cure. Wonder if he will take that challenge?

It is seriously time to question whether Drumpf is mentally competent to stay in office, to be offering advice to the country. I know, I know, it's been obvious for a long time to many of us that his elevator doesn't go to the top floor, doesn't even get to the hem of his bad toupee. But what is going to happen when someone attempts this cure and dies a wretched, mouth-burning, lung-destroying, stomach-churning death? I would hope Trump is brought up on charges for it (murder in my book), for his reckless, irresponsible suggestions.  It looks like the disinfectant companies are worried enough about the issue that they are posting disclaimers on store shelves, pushing notices out on Twitter and making their own statements to the press. This is beyond irresponsible behavior by Trump - it is reprehensible. It's not even the sick-joke sarcasm he pretended it to be in today's  (Friday's) press conference.

And we're not done yet. Today, Drumpf also called the US Post Office "a joke." I just about drove off the road on my way to mail home-made masks to my friend who works in a hospital in Utah.  The US Post Office is a service for all Americans, it was never intended to be a business or make a profit; its a benefit for citizens and businesses. And we need it now more than ever, with all the stuff we have to have mailed to us in the Age of the Coronavirus. Not to mention our need to Vote By Mail later this fall. 

 Our MOCs need to stand up the Republicans and that bullying Trump and tell them hands off the USPS.

Give me a freakin' freakin' break.

We can't vote this doofus out of office fast enough. Give me Joe Biden any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

Here are some good articles from The Atlantic that talk about the value ( The Quiet Heroism of the USPS  ) and  history of the USPS  ( Why The Postal Service Is Worth Saving). They offer some background to Drumpity's comments and moves today.

Now I'm gonna go order a whole bunch of stamps and start mailing cards to my friends every day.  Let's see if we can give some love to the USPS.

•  https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2019/02/what-happens-mail-during-natural-disaster/581794/
•  https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/04/why-postal-service-worth-saving/610672/ 

April 17, 2020 - Cool Things!

Finding all sorts of neat messages painted on rocks or sprayed on tiles as we walk around the neighborhood. Such wonderful surprises.

 Also, rainbows and teddy bears, to inspire the wee ones. I might put up a unicorn or two on our garage door. Why not?


The strategy is to take deep breaths. To feel the earth, to find the joy.  To survive the chaos that envelopes the world right now. Take time to enjoy what is right in front of us right now, even the tiniest sliver of it, because we can.

We can't fix everything right now, but we can treasure a blue-painted rock with a funky-faced grin.
 

April 16, 2020 - Notes from a Pandemic. New Yorker Cover.

April 16, 2020

 Now write the story.

April 15 2020 - Captain Bligh on the High Seas ~ Journals of the Contagious Times

This is the day this President compares himself to Captain Bligh in Mutiny on the Bounty, stating that he has "total authority" over States' affairs and could order them to open their economies and change their Shelter-in-Place regulations. Ha, ha. Of course, anyone with a Sixth Grade education knows that he can't, that no US President has that authority.  States enacted those restrictions and only States can reset them. Obviously Donald "Bligh" Drumpf doesn't know much about the  Constitution, doesn't understand it, doesn't even care whether he does or not.

Does anyone else wonder about this reference, though? Does he remember how that movie plays out? It does not end well for sadistic little Captain Bligh. Should we take it as prophecy, that by the end of this, Drumpf, too, will be cast adrift in a tiny little boat on the high seas? We can hope - but we can't take this prophecy on face value;  we must act to  ensure that Drumpf is cast out of office.

For one thing, we must fight voter suppression by demanding the right to vote by mail in these contagious, courageous times.  Text-banking, phone-banking, writing letters to the Editors, supporting our Democrats as they seek election or re-election; all of that helps. Support the ACLU; support the League of Women Voters, join Fair Fight 2020 as they strike back at unjust voter suppression tactics; 

And yesterday, hooray, Obama came out  for Joe Biden. For those who missed it: 
Obama Supports Biden

LET"S GO!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 
More info on various voter-suppression actions. 
Common Dreams Voter Suppression

April 14 2020 - SIP Journals - Evening Walk

Wither we wander with wires.

April 13, 2020 - "The Radius Of Love" (w/Amber Gray, Annaleigh Ashford, Norbert Leo Butz,...

 

Check this out ...  and feel free to share.  Cracks me up everytime I watch it ~
And yes, some strong language reminding us to stay the eff at home and wash your effing hands.
But oh the tunes!

April 12, 2020 - Easter Under SIP

A mix of weather today,  soft breezes and a sun released from clouds and haze. Normally a day for family to gather over a meal and baskets of chocolate. But this year not much going on, with everyone staying  in home. Zoom Passovers happened all week, with readings of the Haggadah downloaded and shared via video conferencing, and  Zoom Easter get-togethers all weekend, with shared menus, gab-fests, eating of the chocolate bunny-ears.

Around the neighborhood, an Easter Egg hunt was improvised for the wee ones, with quickly painted eggs and cut-out bunnies in front of homes for kids to search for, each family gathered unto themselves in a car or walking in small groups. And while churches had online services and no physical gatherings, it seemed like the pull of family was hard to deny. On my peripatetic stroll in the late afternoon, I noticed two or three houses scattered around that  had some extended family over to share chocolate and laughter and, in one case, a small barbacoa. The noise of people chatting and joking was uplifting, even if a bit nervy and risky.


Today, we've finally joined the Sourdough Coalition! We had purchased flour early on but never found yeast, so Cory buckled down and got our starter going about a week ago. The Bay Area is known for its sourdough yeastiness, so I figured we had a decent chance of capturing something tasty. Today, Cory made her first loaf - and we can hardly wait!

Fresh baked bread and lamb curry -- it's gonna make a fine  meal and rich memories. 

April 10, 2020 - Friday. Long Walk on a Good Enough Friday

Rabbit Tree on Santa Margarita Island

This Friday has to be Good Enough.
We took a long walk over to Santa Margarita Island,  a 3-mile round trip from our house, about an hour and a half all told. We walked on sidewalks past gardens just revving up and in streets eerily devoid of cars or trucks or even bikes. The island is more like an islet, not even 1/2 mile around the edge and back. Some big rocks in the middle, a few small oaks, madrone, some low brush, loud bees, busy birds. Grasses and wild flowers wave in the gentle winds that kick up now and again. Low, humid clouds dominate the sky, never letting the sun gain any traction on the day.

The island is fascinating and compact.There are few obvious lounging places until you climb up into the rocks, where there's almost a bower of small trees and rocky seats overlooking the marsh to the north and the creek wandering off to the east. Compared to  China Camp with its grassy meadows, steep inclines and stunning bay views or  Pt Reyes National Seashore, with all the beach-hikes, mountain-hikes, canyon hikes you could desire, this little County Park islet barely stands out. This whole experience in lock-down living would be very different if we could get out to something like wilderness, get closer to trees and waves and ocean breezes, go wander around the big, charismatic parks.

And yet. There's something to be said for local.

Right here in this little subdivision there are just enough vestiges of the wilder-world, of nature, grass, flowers, insects, ravens, yellow-capped sparrows with their distinctive descending minor-key three notes, towhees chinking away the afternoon, ravens fussing around the bird bath, murmuring and croaking, tall trees rustling in a rising wind measured by the clink of the wind chime, bees wandering in the open window and back out again.  We think we have nothing or very little in the way of nature, of walking space, but now that we are forced to look, we find the hidden treasure all around us. 

This island is a tiny jewel of grasses and big rocks and small trees, protected from habitation and therefore available to us Isolationists for a chance to look across water, to hear the calls of birds. It is enough - it is more than enough. All without driving and sticking closely to Physical Distancing Guidelines. Mt Tamalpais gives us her stern look through the grey skies; wrens and rails call and scurry through the mud and reeds. 

This restriction to quarters has forced us to look and explore more closely to home, the way a kid might, who only had a bike and their sneakers to get themselves around. I want to return to Santa Margarita Island, with my journal, binoculars, some oranges - as good a place as any to sketch and create some verses and live in the outside world. And bask in the moments of joy we are able to wrest amidst the worry, confusion and consternation of the world in a pandemic.

April 9, 2020 - Thursday; SIP Journals: Farmer's Market Protocal

Lilies in the slant of the afternoon.

Went to the Farmer's Market today.  My turn to get out and about. And an opportunity to support the farmers who continue to grow fresh food for us, the stuff I'd prefer not to order online. If possible.

A grey-skied day this morning; a subdued, quiet focused mood. No music. No gabby gatherings of friends. No one lingering at the little round cafe tables with coffee and a spot of lunch. But still, busy enough. Just.

The market management (AIM)  has it down. The aisles between the rows of vendors had been widened considerably, so there was plenty of space for folks to maintain the requested 6-foot margins around themselves. There were marks on the pavement to indicate adequate spacing while waiting in lines or walking around.  We wait our turn, scoping out what's available - asparagus, artichokes, avocados, apples.  (Isn't alliteration fun?).  Then you tell the vendor your choices, they collect it, bag it and hand it to you or place on a package pick-up table. Often you pay a separate person, so the person handling the food isn't handling the cards or the cash. It all feels very clean and contained. Certainly under more control than many grocery stores, where someone could paw over the piles of oranges or mishandle a bunch of grapes and no one would know. And I liked  being outside, not in the constricting, narrow little aisles of the local stores.

I'm impressed. It's not the lively scene of the Time Before Covid (TBC) but for being out in society, it feels safe enough. And this is true - we enter grocery stores, public spaces as if they are DMZs, as potentials intersections with an enemy. I'm sure we'll get back to something that resembles normal at some point, but until we have robust testing and  medical protection, our actions will always be proscribed and constrained while out in public. Wonder if that will mean a richer interior life, steeped in contemplation and a deeper appreciation for the gifts of being alive? Will it mean more and more of our social and commercial interactions will take place online?

Also, there's a vendor with veggie-starts. Think I'll have to come back next week with the garden in mind.

Tree -- or Rabbit? Now that is a question.

April 8, 2020 - Weds -SIP Chronicles -Language of Quarantine

This evening, in our  Writing Group Zoom-In,  we wrote to this prompt:  transmission.
 You can write one, too.

My response was short, ragged, disjointed. Rambling about the transmission of energy from soil through roots to plant. But I was avoiding. Transmission has become a loaded word now, dripping with the implication of disease jumping from one body to another.  We are but transfer points for this virus, transmission joints, in a more medical, scientific parlance, we are known as vectors.

Think of all the terms we have become so familiar with so quickly: isolation, self-isolation, isolate, contact tracing, cordon sanitaire, droplets, aersol-borne. Essential activities, essential workers. Fomites - inanimate objects that transmit disease, not the coronavirus strongest method of attack, but what our constant cleaning (no longer considered OCD) of doorknobs, countertops, packages, bags attempts to defeat. Community transmission.  Negative-pressure rooms - not the place you want to spend your last hours on this planet. R0 - reproductive rate. Viral Shedding - what we might be inadvertently doing before any symptoms show.

New terms: quarnatini, quarantime (the inability to determine any particular time of day or week or season while sheltering in place), quarantizzy - what the cat does at the end of the day. Quarantune - songs of the coronavirus. To Zoom. Drive-by birthday parties.

Think of the ordinary words that have acquired newer meanings. Surge. Flatten the Curve. The peak - that rapidly moving target of the height of infections.  

Think of the terms we may never forget. First million cases. Antibody tests. Plague. Masks. Pandemic.

First Spring Spent Indoors.

Coronavirus Glossary

April 7, 2020 - Tuesday - Journals of the SIP - NYR of Books. Three Weeks and A Howling Moon.

Here we are,  the end of Week Three. This would have been our day of release from the original SIP orders, but no one much notices, they don't give a fare-thee-well. What we do notice is that we've had some slowdown in the growth of cases in California, even as the nation races towards half-a-million cases of the virus.  We've noticed the folks that didn't make it - like the magnificent musicians John Prine, Ellis Marsalis, Bill Withers - and the folks who did, like Dr Matt Willis, Marin County Public health Officer, who was diagnosed with COVID-19 on March 23,  just after California's SIP was put in place. After two weeks in bed and full-on quarantine, he released a video today, sharing his experiences with the disease and his gratitude for the care he received, for the organized and supplied emergency room he went to, for the fact that our hospitals in Marin, at this point, are not over-whelmed. He looks -- well, he looks like he went through something, he looks humbled and full of gratitude. Check it out here.

I've also been fascinated by this series of reports, as collected by the  New York Review of Books, ThePandemic Journals, first-hand accounts from around the world on the impact of this virus, this new global reality. I can't stop reading them. They are not grim; they are just true.

https://www.nybooks.com/daily/2020/04/06/pandemic-journal-april-6-12/

And boy, howdy, was the moon ever full and the howls loud and vigorous tonight!

A Howling Moon

April 6th, 2020 - Dispatches from SIP: Hike Out For Beer

Today we figured no cars, no stores. But we forgot about no beer.

So we decided to walk to the nearest store of any kind, a 7-11, about a mile away and see what that was like. I mean, we could have driven.  And a few months ago, I would have refused to walk that far. But I've been clocking a mile or two every day now for awhile -- and so, what the heck.  We hiked out for beer.

A low, grey sky, impending rain. It was still damp from the morning's rain. But it wasn't so cold that a jacket, a scarf (that could double as a mask), and some good socks couldn't deal with it. My daughter and I had sturdy canvas bags and plotted the most efficient route through the meandering drives in our neighborhood.

Along the way, I found colors - purple mostly, but yellow too, and pink, the palette of spring and Easter eggs. it became a Color Walk. Try it, it's the most fun - pick a color, take a walk, take notes - and write about it.

April 5, 2020 - Dispatches from SIP- Podcast Palace

We're calling ourselves The Podcast Palace around here.

With the end of Week Three of Sheltering In Place closing in, we're resorting to podcasts as a way to create aural and psychic space around ourselves.  Not that this is news to anyone in the tech world or those who have already been WFH. But it's a different look for us. All of us have our earbuds in - some with dangling cords, some cordless. Two of us have  over-the-ear noise-cancellers, which gives us the look of spaced-out bears. Coming around the corner with a basket of laundry or a clutched notebook, we have more than once scared the bejeesus out each other, all of us similarly and earfully entranced in some other dimension.

The aural pitch of news-talk radio and disaster-TV-news deliberately calibrated to raise our hackles and anxiety drives me batty, the endless repetition of the same words over and over, nothing new and very rarely much hope. Yet. I'm sure the time for hope will come, a time when we will regain something that looks like normal life, a time when we can even envision what that might look like -- but for safety's sake, it's a lot further down the road than the current President pretends it is. I rely on our Governor Newsom for direction - and I will listen to his news briefings, for they are based on facts and figures, on science and safety. Otherwise, podcasts it is. I'll knit, weed, paint, walk, clean -- so much cleaning in this world, right? and listen to stories and songs to get me through time. Yes, you surmised that right, I don't watch much TV news. Virtually none. They lost me when the FCC deregulated tv, allowing news to lose the tenets and ethics of true journalism and become partisan mouth-pieces.

And there are sooooo many good podcasts, enough to fit any mood (sad, anxious, energized, cranky) or need (information, distraction, humor, connection). Here are some that get me going.

• For current affairs, The Daily from the New York Times offers insight about the news that I can handle - most of the time, that is. Or a darn good story, like The Sea Monkey Fortune
• RadioLab is a classic that has accompanied my ears from its days on FM radio, late at night. Now Bob Krolich has retired. Oh my goodness. But the podcast rolls on with some great Dispatches
• Wait Wait Don't Tell Me -- will have you in stitches, even if it is closely tied to current affairs. These are necessary laughs, because without humor, we just might not make it.
• Ologies with Alie Ward pretty much tops my list, though. Her concern for everyone, her genuine enthusiasm for science, her approach of asking "dumb questions of smart people " pulls all of us into the journey of discovery, because don't we all feel dumb about some things? Her episodes about Fearology (April 30, 2018)and Virology (March 9 2020)  are not to be missed in the current climate -- but all of them are fascinating, even when you don't think they will be.  I mean, who knew I'd get any feels for hagfish (Hagfishology) ? She's my go-to when I feel most fragile.

I've been listening to Family Secrets, too, by Dani Shapiro. She's been offering bonus episodes, as many podcasts are right now, to handle the issues and the influx of listeners.  The April 4th Bonus Episode is an interview with Stephanie Wittles Wachs,  creator and host of the podcast of Last Day. They have a wide-ranging discussion on the global trauma we are all facing right now. It is rather mind-boggling to comprehend that everyone in the world is being affected by this virus, to a greater or lesser degree. I mean, everyone. Even though we had World Wars, in which most people were affected - not everyone was. This is truly a global event, affecting all countries, all peoples.

And then Dani Shapiro, in her wisdom, reminds us that, in terms of family, we will never have this time again, when the family unit is so tightly sealed unto itself. Many of us are finding more out about our children and parents that we ever thought possible.  We are making meals together, watching shows together (like the old days!) sharing podcasts, things that wouldn't have happened in that other, more regular life when we were all out and about. I find myself telling family stories that I hadn't really shared before, about the 60s, the protests, the riots, the Viet Nam War, the marches. I talk about my mom and her three sisters, born of Finnish immigrants, speaking Finnish as a first language. I try to describe my father, a WWII vet, with untreated, undiagnosed PTSD.  Perhaps it's boredom, perhaps it feels essential, perhaps its just what people do when we're hunkered down in our bunkers, seeking to pass the time.

So here is a very partial list of what I've been  listening to. All of them can be found wherever you listen to podcasts, so I am not making them all live links.

Hidden Brain by Shankar Vedantam
By The Book with Jolenta Greenberg and Kristen Meizner
Memory Palace by Nick DeMeao - memorable snippets
Happier  with Gretchen Rubin and  Liz Craft- I love the banter between the sisters, the happiness hacks, the variety of ideas.
The Kitchen Sisters- history-keepers, thoughtful stories, artfully crafted.
Satellite Sisters -   wide ranging, poitical and cultural insight, reflection
On Being with Krista Tippet - as thoughtful and insightful as they get
99% Invisible by Roman Mars- design is everywhere.
Anthropocene by John Greene- essays by the earful
Sleep With Me by Drew "Scooter"Ackerman - when I need to sleep, this is the one that does it.

Of course, there are more. Share your favorites in the comments below.

Bonus Episode: Stephanie Wittels Wachs, host of “Last Day” on storytelling in the time of CoronavirusBonus Episode: Stephanie Wittels Wachs, host of “Last Day” on storytelling in the time of CoronavirusWWBonus Episode: Stephanie Wittels Wachs, host of “Last Day” on storytelling in the time of Coronavirus

April 4, 2020 • 48 min

April 4, 2020 - Saturday Dispatches SIP

I fuss around the side yard today, creating a Kitchen Garden. I want herbs, tomatoes, basil, pomegranates.  I listen to Gavin Newsom's press conference as I shift rocks and look for worms in the drizzle; I find it impossible to listen or watch the ones from the White House, so full of misinformation and lies; the bad behavior like a five-year-old bully. A bully who has endangered the lives of all Americans.

I'm so proud of our Governor Newsom. He installed the lock-down hard and early (March 17) and saved lives; he's even strengthened the orders, as the weeks have gone by, not even promising an end date for them, preferring to gauge the release of SIP on the actual health of the state. Though for sure we're on SIP through April. And into May.  Newsom has shared accurate knowledge even if it doesn't reflect well on him and today owned the lack of accurate and fast testing. Though I have to say, testing is something the Federal Government should have been doing right away, early and often.  

Newsom is acting more like a President than the one who's in the White House right now.

April 3, 2020 - Dispatches from SIP - an evening's walk.

Such light. 

Now write.

April 2, 2020 - Thursday, Dipatches from the SIP: Paper Rock Scissors

Writing Prompt: Paper Rock Scissors

You  never know about chicken;  they hide, for one thing. Locking up my neighbor's chicken coop for the night while they are away, I count to be sure they are all inside - first there are 11 and then 13 and then maybe 12?  Should be an even dozen of the tawny, red-wattled hens. But they get all bamboozled up, Scissors, as I call one of them, over Rock and Paper behind Scissors and then when I look away, one flutters down from a higher perch and they are cooing and moving their necks and watching my finger as I try to count them and now Paper is over Scissors and Rock has moved behind Eight Ball. Finally, I see how they are all layered and in place and accounted for.  Whew. I check the wooden nest-boxes for eggs. I don't want to leave any behind overnight.

So I've been handling unwashed eggs, still warm from the  chicken, but salmonella seems like small potatoes now. I know how to deal with it - good strong handwashing, for one thing, antibiotics, for another, should other methods fail.   It's this new disease we don't know and the future we can't see that has us tied in knots.

And yet, when could we ever really see the future? No doubt, much of the world  will be the same or similar when we return to it - there will still be roads and cars, shops and sales, banks and schools. There will still be work. And gardens. Some things could be very different - more telecommuting might bring about less traffic, cleaner air.  We might return to the way olden days of delivery of groceries and eggs and goods, as a habit, if nothing else. But we have to get through this first, subdue and subjugate  this new disease that has put a huge dent in our fabric of living, twisted it, rent it, gnawed huge holes in it.

Rock, Paper, Scissors - what solutions will be used to quell Virus? Testing, physical barriers, social distancing - how many times will we go through this routine before a Vaccine puts a hex on this beast? We can't know this now - we'll have to experience it. And take notes.

April 1, 2020, Weds. No Foolishness Today. Dispatches from SIP, 2020

Yesterday, March 31, was Cesar Chavez Day in California, or in the local parlance of the Rincon Way Ranch, NWFH  ~ Not Working From Home Day -

So, of course, we tackled making face masks. Our pattern is rather clunky -- and then we found that working a sewing machine is too close to working  a computer; our eyes crossed and our backs gave out.  We'll try again. There is such a need for them. This is the Victory Garden Effort of our times. Do you have pattern to recommend? Please post in the comments!

Poppies along the levee at Hamilton Field

Today, April 1, doesn't feel like much of a joking, foolish kind of day, so I haven't bothered with trying out a prank. I don't think anyone I know has. Even if it might have leavened the mood, things feel far too serious for pranks and light-hearted Tom-foolery.

Instead, I took a socially-distanced walk with an old friend I only just recently re-met. Back in the days of Time Before Coronavirus II (TBCV) walking six-feet apart would have seemed almost Monty Python-esque, like some bizarre challenge:  how far can you walk, keeping six-feet apart and still keep a connection going? Turns out, it is quite possible, especially as the connections run deep and the concerns, fears and politics align so well between us.

We met back when our kids shared grades and schools in Petaluma, but we hadn't seen or talked to each other in many years. There was a move to the mid-West for her family and then a return to the Bay Area upon retirement, though not back to Petaluma. And though I knew we were within spitting distance of each other after our move down to Marin, it took a chance encounter on the Hamilton Levee in mid-March for us to fully reconnect. We are both huggers, and while physical contact was already completely verboten at that point, we snuck in one long hug that first meeting, among avid talk between us. We couldn't help ourselves. There was history in the hug and a gladness for renewed friendship.

Today we do keep our distance, offering a wave and a touch to the heart as our greeting and then walking a long 2-mile loop, catching up on each other's lives, our kids, our grandkids. Going over the new rules now - and how devastating it feels not to be in literal touch with the littlest ones. Even though we understand and acknowledge the need for distance, that's one of the hardest to endure.

Then I went home, without sharing coffee or tea or a tour of her  new-to-me house, and I kept working on making masks.  Here's the NYT article with instructions on making the pleated kind of mask. Think I'll try this one next. I have a friend in Utah who needs them, desperately. Well, I think we will all need them soon enough.


p.p.s. Doctors Plead for PPE
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/19/us/hospitals-coronavirus-ppe-shortage.html

March 31, 2020 - Tuesday. Week Two: Dispatches from SIP. Shoppers report: Costco.

In this Age of Sequestering, we are trying to take turns going out for supplies. With three adults hunkering down at the house, it's not so bad. If each of us goes out once during the week,  most of our bases are covered with each person only having to venture into the contact-possible zones once.  Anyway, that's the plan.

It was my turn for the big run, so I went to Costco in Novato to stock up for a few weeks. Pretty organized, I thought; it felt fairly secure. The parking lots looked to be about a quarter full. If that. And sure, a goodly line to get in,  but everyone was patient, sticking to their square of sidewalk, with one full square between each of us. Therefore, the line was long in term of distance - along the whole huge warehouse, around the corner, past the auto shop and out almost to the back access road - but short in terms of the number of people waiting, maybe 30 to 40 folks standing about 8 feet apart. Plenty of people wearing masks.  I felt socially irresponsible, only carrying wipes soaked in rubbing alcohol in one hand which I planned to use to wipe the handle of my cart. However, Costco employees were sanitizing the cart handles as they brought them back from the parking lots.

I jammed the wet, alcohol-fragrant wipe in my pocket. I thanked the young man at the door who was letting us in, ten or fifteen at a time. This made the line jump up quickly ... and then stop for a time, like some sort of erratic conga line.

There was a sign on an easel just inside the door noting what was available and what wasn't. Toilet paper was back in stock, though only one package at a time per customer. No ibuprofen right now, which had been sitting on my list since I learned that was the preferred pain med for the 'Rona. We'll see if we ever get any, as it seems to be out of stock everywhere, online, offline, IRL.

With only 100 shoppers in the cavernous store, customers could easily have an entire wide aisle to themselves.  It got tight around the meats and produce and in the frozen foods, but employees with wide white wipes were disinfecting the door handles along one side, then the other. Meanwhile, I was dipping my fingers into the alcohol-soaked wipe dampening my jacket pocket. I made it a point to only pick up what I was going to put in my cart. Which meant I - and everyone, I noticed - stared at things a lot, cocking our heads and necks, squinting to read ingredients written sideways or in tiny print along the bottom.

Coffee (two bags of French Roast, yes!),  crackers, sugars, some tri-tip, peanut butter pretzels, frozen fish, Annie's Mac N'Cheese. A few things for our neighbors across the street who shouldn't be going out to stores. Some little potatoes, onions. Rice. But no hands soaps to speak of. Well, perhaps in a few weeks.

Once I got to the check out stations, there wasn't much of a wait to get out. I had to hold my receipt up to be marked as I left the store, but otherwise, I exited with most of what I came for, plus a few extras, which was always the way of that place. And as long as we have coffee, I'm not worried about toilet paper.

And so here, we are, the end of Week Two. We got through it - and we already know we're in it for a much longer haul, until the first week of May, for sure.  But personally, I'd rather go long than go short on this particular play.