Monday, Art Part 1

It's now November.  The changing of the clocks makes me feel like I'm back to myself, or maybe it's just that the sun is out.  Been raining for days, last week I missed the early train and even walking in late, work vehicle lights glared out in the dawn, made it feel like it was still night.  Today I woke up early and had time to return a library book, go for a walk, watch the birds flock on the lake, and buy groceries and still made it in time to work.

Went to my first indoor "performance?" since the pandemic began over the weekend.  Faye Driscoll's "Come On In" at On The Boards.  I bought a ticket to the earliest slot, still somewhat concerned about COVID-19.  Took the two longest bus rides there and back, that I've taken since late September.  (The last bus ride I took was crammed full of people, the driver kept letting more and more people on, even when you wouldn't have thought more could fit.  This after a-year-and-a-half of mostly empty buses.  It gave me anxiety, though I took comfort in everyone wearing a mask, and that everyone was probably vaccinated, but I've mostly taken the light rail since, which gets more crowded each day, but at least I'm building up a comfort level to it. And it's under two minutes.)

You walked into the darkened theatre and took off your shoes and placed them in one of the cubbies.  All the listening spaces were in use, and I sat on the bench for a while trying to figure out how the space was to be navigated.  More people arrived, and as people finished listening they moved off of the "beds" and sat on the carpet in the dark.  So, I took a space and listened, lying on a bed, in a room of strangers.  Listening to Driscoll speak over the headphones was a way to mark the time, each track lasting 6-8 minutes.  And then you'd get up and move to the carpet and let someone else take your space.  And somehow it works unlike musical chairs where someone is always out, to navigate a shared experience with strangers in silence, and in the dark, where everyone was able to participate, and no one was left to wait for long.

Most of the beds were for a single person, except one.  And at first I thought it would be uncomfortable to lie down there with a stranger, but then I did it anyway, actually 2x (though it was the same track on each of the two headsets) and it didn't seem strange at all.

And sitting on the carpet in the dark, in that space felt holy.  That the artist created a form of return to a shared experience of strangers.  (Has it been three years? Four years since I got to perform here?)

A meditation for coming back to life, while the northern hemisphere prepares for darkness and sleep.

Back to Things

It's chilly this morning. I should close the door, but it takes so long to cool down once it gets hot out that I like to keep it cold in here rather than warm.  People have been walking around with jackets since Saturday, when it clouded over (when was the last time that had happened?  Feels like months, still, no rain here.)  All a far cry from just a week before that with all the wildfire smoke and close to 100 degrees, finally running the air conditioner, the ceiling fan on high, and the box fan on high, and still lying around in a puddle of sweat.

Have hardly done any reading this month, both because I really need to replace my glasses and because I feel restless.  Took a few days of leave, after realizing it had been two years since I'd taken a vacation, pretty much to do nothing, though I had a task force meeting (how to prioritize building improvements, and spend some grant money) and a work party at the garden.  Went to the zoo on Friday; I was in the neighborhood (walked over to a bakery up there) and missed the animals.  The wolves were out, the lone bear was wandering about, a massive eagle was hanging out above the elk, all the pigs were out and about and the snow leopard was sprawled out on a rock, camouflaged, appearing much larger than I had thought it was.  It was busy, but never felt overly crowded.

Anyway, I'm back at work today.  We're back on mandatory masks, but will still be back on site next month, at least as of now.  Infection rates had gone up a couple of weeks ago, but are back down in the teens (at work.)  I moved back to my regular "office" last week, so have to keep my mask on all the time, since I don't have a door. In a lot of ways, I'm still looking forward to being back on site (mostly) full time.  It's easier to get things done there, and I feel like I've been just holding for the past year and a half, and that feels unhealthy after awhile. You have to find a way to get on with your life even when what was ordinary ceased to exist.  Most of us spent so much of our lives in comfortable safeness, thinking that was normal, how things would always be.  We lived in a bubble.  It was an anomaly.  Maybe you could call that luck.

Little by Little

 I hugged people over the weekend.  A friend is moving to New York and had a going away party at the Lake.  We were all vaccinated, but still.  Been a long time (there was the, "I'm fully vaccinated."  "I am, too.")  Talking to another of my friends from the Meisner days saying that we both had to drag ourselves out of our caves to socialize, neither of us particularly good at this.  I'm glad I went, and I knew I would be, but it's takes a lot of energy to show up.

And for some reason I've had it in my head that I finished my vaccination on June 4th, I think I even told them that in one of my emergency room visits (I had chest pain and an elevated D-Dimer so was told to go to the ER last month.  Nothing was found in a Cat Scan, so they sent me home.  I'm still kicking.)  I'll have to update that.  I was filling out a work verification form and realized I'd finished in May.  I have no idea where the June 4 date came from.  I looked at my card, and then check text messages and my leave requests to verify it, because that seemed wrong.  Memory is a funny thing.

I haven't been completely anti-social, I go into work, and there are people there; and I talk to people in the garden.  And I joined a building task force and was elected to the Church Council, as well as another committee I've been on, so I've had the Zoom contact, too.  I've rode the bus more recently, (partially due to the heat) and after a recent eye appointment, I went out for a drink and an appetizer, first time sitting in a restaurant in more than 16 months.  It had a roll-up wall that was open, and I was the only person in the area where I sat, and I didn't stay that long, but it feels like a slow crawl to participating in life.  During the heatwave, a suggestion for air-conditioning was going to a movie, but I'm not ready for that.

I'm still waiting for the air conditioning.  I have the unit now, but it doesn't match with my wall vent, so it needs an adapter. It's sitting against the wall like a little robot.  I still need to move things around to make space by the vent and an outlet.  Baby steps.

Lazy Summer Day

 I've been watching at lot of British food-related shows on YouTube, and in my head I have begun to think "courgette" for zucchini.  However you call it, I'm cooking the second one, and gave a couple to the Food Bank.  I tried to get to the garden early, but it was after 11 am before I left.  The cloud cover held for a bit, but as soon as it starts to get hot all my energy is zapped.  Did manage to cut back the cardoon (probable) and the chard that's all gone to seed to create a little breathing room for the other plants.  Next time I'll need to search and make space for the watermelon plants.

I watched three movies after I got home yesterday: "Jaws", the first Harry Potter, and "Children of Men." Taking a break from the last to go up on the roof to watch (very small and far away) the fireworks show from Bellevue, I think.  We are one of the lower buildings in the neighborhood, so blocked a little by new construction.

I thought about going back to meet with the Giving Garden folk, because I enjoy hanging out with them, but maybe I'll finish one of the overdue library books instead.  They meet at 5 pm, and it's already 3:30 pm.  (It's a work holiday.)  I've just gotten around to making lunch.  One of the shows I've been watching has to do with how much money people are spending on groceries and eating out, and it is inspiring me to pay more attention to how I'm spending money and what I'm wasting.  (And it reiterates for me how much more expensive groceries are here as opposed to what they pay.  Unless you live near a Trader Joe's or Grocery Outlet.)  Also, the heatwave helped with that, too.  My apartment was close to 100 F for three days and I'm not all that sure how safe any food not in the fridge still is, so I'm tossing it.  (I've tried looking it up, but can't really find a good answer.  And there were other random times that my food cupboard got quite warm.  I did move all my canned food out of the cupboards, put legumes and tea in there.)  And that's a bit of a wake-up call to use stuff quicker rather than keep it on hand.  I think I have it because it makes me feel safe, like I'll always have something to eat in an emergency, or if I run out of money.  It's from being poor in the past, and feeling unsafe and insecure, constantly in survival mode.  But it leans toward hoarding.  I'm going to try using what I buy for short amounts of time (a week?  two weeks?) and show myself that I can live in the present. (This is canned stuff, I guess in the event I don't have a stove or something.  I still have pasta, and dried legumes, and I use those on a regular basis.  I didn't toss the latter two.)

I need to rearrange, too.  I don't have space for the A/C unit as things stand.  (It connects to an awkward place on the wall, next to the broadband connection and to where I sleep.)  They are supposed to come by and set it up on Wednesday.  Just in time for smoke season, if not the heatwave.

Happy Fourth of July!

 It's not quite blackberry season, and the dahlias that remind me of fireworks have begun to bloom.  Left early-ish to water the garden before it got too hot out.  Haven't been there in over a week, I think someone has watered for me a couple of times, at any rate, surprisingly, nothing has suffered all that much for drought and heat.  Growing like weeds!  Had to wade through greenery to get to anything.  Worked for almost 3 hours, and while I did a lot, and if there were before and after pics it might be obvious, it's still quite the jungle.  Got more zucchini, and left some to donate to the food bank.  Think I might have potatoes soon, too.

Hardly anyone around.  I stopped by the donut shop for coffee and a donut before getting all the way to the garden, and there was a line there, but otherwise, very quiet out today.  In the park there was one family having a birthday party, and dog walkers passed through, but by the time I walked home, the playground and grounds were empty again, save the City worker putting up signs about not setting off fireworks in the park.

It's wildly pleasant out.  It smells nice, enough heat to send out fragrance of all the plants, but a pleasant breeze, and now the forecast has dropped the temp by about 10 degrees from what was earlier predicted.  The apartment is in the mid-70's which is the lowest it's been in over a week. The bees have returned to my plot en masse (so, there's that.) the honey and bumble bees seem to prefer the onion flowers, marjoram, and borage, while the others go for the feverfew, with a few wasps wandering around various plants for good measure.  Everyone seeming pleased with the current jungle situation.  On the other side of the garden a large flock of tiny birds (pine siskins?) mobbing the cedar tree (for bugs perhaps? or perhaps for fun.)  And the usual crow babies bumbling about, trying out things for edibility, and crashing into one another in attempts to land.

It's already 2:30 pm, I should eat something besides a donut today.  There are no fireworks here this year, though perhaps I can see the ones across the Lake if I go up on the roof?  Marking the time.

Too Darn Hot

Woke up feeling sick at 5 am, and just decided to get up.  No breeze at all last night, leaned out the door for a while and looked at the stars, but it wasn't much cooler outside vs inside.  Broke out the box fan to try to cool things down, but it was still around 87 F.  I drank enough, I don't think I'm dehydrated, but sick from the heat.

Got some coffee on way into work (went into work because it's air-conditioned.)  Made me feel worse, and my thoughts were odd and forgetful, shaky, headache, nauseous, etc.  Finally, took an ibuprofen, and ate some salty protein, and am starting to feel better.

Found out I'm getting an air-conditioning unit next week, which is good.  Not sure what I'll do tonight, no cooling centers in my neighborhood, but I'll stay at work as long as I can.  My phone says it's already 102 F.

As I was leaving the house, one worksite was just getting started, while I heard someone shout down from a second building that all work was ceasing by 10 am. (I'm surrounded by construction sites.)  At least they're keeping safe.

Waiting for the heat

Sitting in my semi-dark apartment now that I've figured out I can climb up on my table to reach the high blinds and close them to keep out the heat; now I feel like I'm waiting for the heat apocalypse.  Maybe 110 F on Monday?!?!  It's actually kinda' pleasant right now.

Took some time off to go to the garden and water.  On other minds, there was a wait for one of the spigots.  The garden is going nuts (as per usual, it just gets away from me every season, though I begin with the best intentions.)  All the zucchini are producing, and the plants seems to double in size every time I stop by.  I planted watermelon (a bit on accident, I wasn't paying enough attention, and thought I was buying cantaloupe.)  They are starting to take off, enjoying the heat.  I hope they produce.

Had to go to the doctor last Friday, every time I've gone through Downtown for the past year-and-a-half it's been a ghost town.  On Friday, there were people everywhere, pandemic be damned.  Partially, it was a Friday afternoon, partially, it's summer, and partially, I think people are ready to be out in the world again.  Anyway, walked north, to S. Lake Union Park afterward, not really recognizing anything, construction never stopped, and what had formerly been more of an industrial neighborhood is now shiny high tech high rises.  The one benefit of the construction is more open space at ground level.  More human friendly, greener.  The outdoor mall near the University has been packed (more than I've ever seen it) with partial street closers, and more pedestrian friendly, as well.  It's near a wooded area, as well as a wetland, and while waiting at a crosswalk on my way home, a group of crows chased a red-tailed hawk which dove about ten feet above my shoulder and then landed on a nearby roof.  No one else seemed to notice.  By the time I was almost across the street, they did it again, and then the whole lot of them flew off into the forest.  Obviously, they can all maneuver well enough to not smack into objects (me) even while being pursued.  It was kinda' exciting though.

And one benefit of the pandemic has been the forced hand to open up sidewalk dining, that's everywhere now, and full.  Before, everything defaulted to cars, now there's a little more consideration for people.  (That includes neighborhood street closers, too.)

I was hoping to get an A/C unit, but when I asked, was told I'd be charged $400 to borrow one.  That did eventually get straightened out (my apartment is supposed to use one for free, and I think the ones on my floor, as well), but they don't have any available anyway.  I went out on Wednesday evening looking for a fan, and did find two box fans at the second store, they had window fans, too, but I don't have any windows that open.  I bought one.  And then I went to Goodwill on the way home from work, and bought some t-shirts. (I don't have any clothes for hot weather; it so rarely fluctuates all that much here.  I kinda wear the same clothes all year.)  I don't think you can try things on, yet, but I guessed, and now need to do laundry.

After second dose

Had my second vaccine dose yesterday.  Much more busy at the clinic, lots of kids getting vaccinated this time.  Had a pretty rough night, but as the day progresses, I am feeling better.  Woke up feeling like I had the flu with a hangover.  Mostly, it's the headache that's the problem, and that could also been caused by smoking outside my window, which seems to happen a lot; the neighborhood is dense.  And I left my "door" open all night. (The only window that opens in this apartment is a sliding glass door.  I'm on the sixth floor, so it's not a big issue to leave it open.)

I went in with my eyes fully opened, and made the right choice for me, out of love and my own moral compass.  Whatever the outcomes ends up being.  And I hope it helps.

Sunday, April 18, 2021

 The seedlings in the peat pots came up quickly, all sprouting in a day, leggy and reaching toward the high windows, following the sun.  In the garden, the transplanted peas limp along, surviving the feedings of rabbits and snails, but none of the seeds there have germinated, in spite of the heat.  Still the plants sit ordered for now; I can't imagine it will last.  Entropy will win as it does every other year.  Already dandelions shine their abundant yellow faces to the sun, and last year's kale opens more yellow flowers.  Borage and calendula bloom.  All in vain, in the two hours I spent planting lettuces, and tending to what remained of the transplanted cilantro, only a lone cabbage moth fluttered through the garden; no other pollinating insects.  No bees.  No flies.  Nothing more at all.  Most days I can count almost to a hundred.

I hurried back to a nature poetry/essay sharing on Zoom, arrived late, though not too late to read.  There is always more to do, and when I get myself there, I enjoy the peace of the garden.

I don't sleep much anymore, last night less than usual.  Someone ran a garbage disposal on/off for hours, a low pulsing buzz pushing against my ears from 1 am- 5am.  Finally, went and slept on the floor where I could hear it the least, it was that or the bathtub.  Now slices of sunlight fall down from the windows.  Perhaps I should nap.

I have an appointment for a COVID-19 vaccination later on in the week.  I don't know how I will get there and back.  Still, at least it's in town, my co-worker is driving to another county for hers.  I don't mind going in now, but feel unsure about crowds again in the autumn.  Back to a time where doors are unlocked and people wander freely.  The old daily schedule still sits at the conference rooms, announcing no meeting, March 13, 2020. On March 12, we locked the doors.  Around there is evidence of a world without people at the center of it.  Flowers growing in the cracks of the pavement.  Nests above the doors.

I mostly only travel within walking distance (which can be far.)  Happily surprised whenever I see the "Mountain" out, forgetting how common that once had been.  Surprised by human enterprise, too, building has boomed on in the Downtown core, in spite of a lack of people to occupy them on a daily basis.  Walking across a freeway overpass on a recent weeknight, I hardly recognized the skyline at all.  Closer to home, the tent cities grow daily, and signs on light poles, and curbside collection points, announce the gathering of supplies, food, clothing, hygiene items, for those without homes.  The dissonance is a screeching siren.  The small house outside my window is for sale for almost $2 million, the price of the sky above it.

How do we meet ourselves again?  Who will we be when we all return to the common space?  What shape will our universe hold?  This has been a year of seismic shifts, will any of that make a difference?  Do we care at all?