Saturday, because the garbage was picked up yesterday

It's Saturday.  Mostly been quarantined for the past week, officially it was Wednesday night, or was it Monday night?  I go for walks, since the parking lots at the lake have been closed, and since it's been rainy all week, the numbers of people have decreased, keeping more of a distance.  When I pass people on the paths, we give each other 6-10 feet of clearance.  I go get a cup of coffee every morning.  The grocery stores and coffee shops have marks on the floor for how far to stay apart.  I find this essential, I need the check-in with someone.

On Monday night one of my housemates went to go hunker down with his family, he wanted to go before he might have been infected, and his family wanted him home.  One of my other housemates took off for California right before quarantine there, she's a college student, and her school was cancelled for the rest of the year, she also wanted to be with her parents.

On Wednesday, I had been home too long, and felt like I was going to hurt someone (two of the housemates were banging stuff around and it was driving me nuts.)  It probably would've bothered me less had I not been inside my room all day.  Thursday morning, I read the news after I woke up, and cried for an hour, it suddenly felt very real to me.  Read a story of sanitation workers finding people dead on their beds when they entered houses to disinfect, and that's just heartbreaking.  I had to go for a walk before starting work.

I made the stew again on Thursday, realizing that my diet has been awful (almost entirely carbs) and needed to eat something healthy, but not feeling like cooking.  It's the third time I've made it.  The second time I added carrots and then peas at the end.  This time I opened a can of wine, and realized it was sangria, and not a house red, so used apple cider vinegar in place.  Forgot to add peas, but had increased the carrots to two.  It worked.  And it can just sit on the stove simmering while I do other things.  For work, I mostly take calls, answer emails, and am doing on-line classes.  This week I did coursework on navigating change, and customer service.  I also started on a module about how to ask the right questions.

I started to organize my book shelves today, but only managed to get to two, but they are dusted, and neater, I guess.  And I carried home a bag of potting soil and gardening tools, so I can start some seedlings.  I haven't done it yet, but I have some time.  We've gotten our manure delivery, but the weather has turned cold and rainy, and I still have a lot of weeding to do in my actual garden.  I keep putting it off.  Definitely a need for the produce, though.

We have ants streaming in through the kitchen window, can never figure out what suddenly drives that, they aren't really going anywhere in particular.  I should go see what they're up to now.  And eat.

We are all in this together.  Be kind.  Wash your hands.  Keep your physical distance, but reach out to someone.

Going Feral

We haven't gone to full lock-down yet, though I wonder if people understand the whole distance thing.

The sky is cloudless, birds are singing, and all day there was the hammering and buzz of electric saws from nearby construction.

I went to try to buy quarters for laundry, but my nearest bank is closed, so no luck.  Walked to Whole Foods to buy cranberry juice, I'm not feeling better, and now there are lines.  Only 70 people in the store at the time.  At least the sun was out.  As I walked to join the line, I had a weird interaction with a driver trying to pull into the parking garage, "You go" "No, you go." "Okay, no you."  Which went on, then he screeched down into the garage.  When I finally entered the store, he approached me and apologized.

Everyone was let in one at a time, the man at the door squirted your hands with sanitizer, sorta the equivalent of entering a club and getting your hand stamped for re-entry.  Once inside, I felt a rush looking at the produce, like I'd just been let into Disneyland to run wild.

Dairy case picked over.  No tp.  I don't think there were baby wipes nor Kleenex to be had, even though there are now limits imposed.  Limits on how much product you can buy that contains elderberry: you can purchase two.

Walking back home, an abandoned field underneath the freeway was covered in blooming lawn daisies.  The cherry and plum trees are ablaze, and there are bees making their rounds.  It's a big change from last weekend.

Took off the afternoon to get some gardening, but so far haven't made it over.  Stopped by last evening, tried to help get the water turned on, but we didn't have any luck.  It's a mystery.  Turned some soil.  I want to get some peas, and maybe flowers, and lettuce in, but I've got a lot to clean up, and we have a manure delivery at the end of the month.

I walked there, and back home.  The sun was dropping in the sky and it was a glorious first evening of spring.  The white flowering trees catching the last golden light of the day.  It almost feels like summer. And I could lose track of time.

Almost.

And then Italy had over 600 deaths in the past 24 hours.  My work is on lockdown.  Most places are closed and people are out of work.  You still can't get testing, almost two weeks after the President promised "everyone can get tested."  Hospital beds are being set up in soccer fields, and parking garages.  Hospitals are enlisting the public to sew PPE for hospital workers being of a dire shortage.  And military hospital ships are being deployed to New York, Los Angeles, and possibly Seattle.

I'm feeling handwashing fatigue, and we've only just begun.  My housemates are mostly keeping to their rooms.  I'm catching up on cleaning, since I'm in here so much, and realizing how much I appreciate the amount of light I get in here when all the blinds are raised.  I never got around to showering yesterday, I was too tired by the time I got home from gardening.

I'm not quite anxious.  I feel alive and really awake.  And I wonder how much the world will change by the time summer comes?

Everyday brings more closures

Well, all the restaurants and bars were shut down last night, they can still do take-out, but who knows for how long.  People are complaining, of course, but if they'd stopped going out in crowds and disregarding behaviors to curb the spread, maybe we'd have different choices...but here we are.  (The Farmer's Markers have been suspended, the University Bookstore, REI, Nordstrom's,  public libraries, community centers, gyms, etc., all closed.)

I had been planning on working from home today, but couldn't get my credentials to work, so walked in.  Late morning, saw fewer than 20 other people.  Got the computer situation corrected, and met with my colleague and boss regarding what happens next.  No in-class meeting until the end of April now.  Spent the rest of the day at the office working on facilities-related repercussions.  Walked home, stopping by Whole Foods to get some D-Mannose because I have another bladder infection, hit after I'd gotten to work, but had too much to do to leave early.  They had that, but so many bare shelves.  It didn't seem so busy, but whole aisles were emptied out, and the dairy case was picked over.  I bought some tempeh "bacon" and then after I opened it, wondered how you could tell if it was still good.  It wasn't slimy, and didn't smell funky (that's what I found online) so I ate it.  Still feel okay, stomach-wise.

Was it a week ago? Two weeks ago, that the WHO report from China came out?  How it was said what worked and part of that was the quarantines, and the other part was construction of the hospitals, testing, and sending out teams to find all the contacts of the patients.  And the infection numbers started to fall.  Everyone said, "Oh, you could never do that here."  Well, we're having to do that here now; here, Spain, Italy, France, Germany, Canada, Netherlands, etc., etc.  Still can't seem to get a test if you need it, though it's slowly turning...too slowly.  So, we wash our hands 'til our skin cracks, and we isolate.  All to slow the spread of infection, to keep the hospitals from becoming overwhelmed...to keep people alive.  There's gonna have to be some monetary aid for lost wages, lost business, lost revenue, lost rent...but now the choice is more stark, it's between choosing that now, or keeping people alive.  We waiting too long to take it seriously, so that's where we are.

With so much of the things that kept my life anchored cancelled now, I'm losing track of time, of days.

The weekend was cold and sunny, with a wind-chill in the low 30's, unseasonably chilly, but today was sunny and warm.  The cherry trees continue to bloom in relative privacy.  I keep waiting for the deer and coyotes to come wandering into the streets, there's hardly any traffic.

My computer keeps kicking me out of programs, when it lets me, I'll try to download pictures from my walk to work.

March 12

Fewer and fewer people about.  Grounds crew out mowing the lawn.  Police.  A couple of cyclists.  The trees bloom in silence.  More and more businesses shut down for lack of clients, diners, etc.

I've been eating out a lot over the past couple of weeks, both to keep supporting the restaurants, and because I won't be able to in the near future.

Last night we had a mid-week Lenten service, keeping 10-20 feet apart.  I want to be in the community as long is remains safe for all of us.  It's important to me.  There were only 10 of us there, including the pastor and the organist.  After, we recorded the lessons for this coming Sunday, as well as some singing.  Sunday services are cancelled, as they are at many churches now.  This will all be put online.

It's weird, when I say "goodbye" or "goodnight" now, I'm aware I don't know when I'll see you/them again.

I had a health scare earlier this winter (still having it I suppose, I don't know what it is), and for a week I just felt in limbo.  I didn't know what it was, and in some ways was afraid to do anything (is it my heart? Do I need my gallbladder removed? Is it something else?), and then on the other hand, just wanting to enjoy and experience all that I could, and not take things for granted.  When the emergency surgery and my heart were finally ruled out, I felt my anxiety lessen.  But now we are in another limbo.  Just waiting.  Waiting.  Doing the best we can.

It's so quiet.

Life in Pandemic

The cancellations trickle in.  The buses less than half-full, though we are told they are being disinfected each night.  All in-person classes are cancelled as of Monday, but it's the week before finals, and students won't be back until the end of the month.

I walked to the store after work. I think I meant to buy a dish sponge (which I ended up failing to purchase by the time I walked back home.)  The first-aid shelves still empty of Hydrogen peroxide and any form of rubbing alcohol, a few bottles of witch hazel and glycerin were all that remained.  I bought two of the last bottles of disinfectant.  There was a normal amount of toilet paper stocked.

This morning, I was remembering those aerosol cans of Lysol, and wondering if there is a replacement product for disinfecting large areas/soft surfaces. The spray bottles don't really work for that.  Half the house was sick last week, but mostly recovered. Probably run-of-the-mill colds or allergies, but feel we should clean.  People travelling through and to the area weren't being screened, so who knows who has been exposed? Or for how long.

It's raining.  There's a slight chance of snow over the weekend.  It's been a mild winter, and the flowers have been bursting out for the past month.  The cherry trees are beginning to bloom.  Magnolias already blooming.  And the pathways are void of people.  The freeways light on cars.

It's all very surreal.

Attempt at stew

Spring is barreling forward here, more flowers burst out each day, and bird song is greeting the dawn from the nearby willow.  House turn-over and full cleaning of freezers, fridge, and cabinets.  It feels better, and it's more welcoming for someone coming in to have their own space and not have to wait.  It also helped to take stock of what's been lingering in the back.  Found I'd been hoarding frozen meat.

Made a stew last night, cooking down on the stove while we played a game night with the household (half the house is down with a virus, only one sat out, too sick to join in. I've been wiping down every door knob and faucet with disinfectant.)

The idea was that I wanted to use dried, sour cherries in a stew.  I looked up recipes, found one, but didn't have all the ingredients for it, so made one up.

1 lb of stew meet (beef, in this case)
3/4 of a yellow onion (diced)
1 stalk of celery (chopped)
1 clove of garlic (diced)
Dried thyme
about 10-12 dried sour cherries, chopped into halves or thirds
Good red wine
Chicken bone broth
Water
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Cinnamon

Heat pot, add some olive oil, brown meat in batches to not crowd the pan.  Salt and pepper.

Remove browned meat from pan.

Add onion, celery, garlic to pan, add more oil if necessary.  Soften.  Add thyme.

Add cherries, stir.

Add splash of wine to de-glaze pan (maybe 1/4-1/2 cup?)

Add meat back in. Stir to mix everything.

Add bone broth (8 fl oz) + equal amount of water.  Add cinnamon (maybe 1/2 tsp?)

Cover and simmer for 2 hours.

By the time I'd come back to check it, the liquid had almost evaporated, so I added a little more boiling water, stirred, and then turned off of the heat.

I had not realized the cinnamon container had such a wide opening as it did, and it dumped out into the pot.  I attempted to spoon it off before it blended in.  The whole house smelt of cinnamon while it cooked, and I thought it would taste bad.  I'll have to try it again, to see if I can make it the same, and measure out the cinnamon.  (Part of this is making stews/soups/sauces without any nightshades in them, since my immune system over-reacts to those.)

The stew was crazy good.

After

I was waiting for the rain to let up, the weather reports said it was "overcast" but if anything, it just kept raining harder.  Eventually, I just had to make a run for the bus, and I was soaked when I got to the stop.  As I waiting under the building awning, I noticed the woman several feet away, underdressed, bare-legged, flip-flops, also soaked, with some belongings in a garbage sack.  I wondered if I should offer something, but I didn't really  have anything.  She caught the first bus at any rate.

The concert/dinner went well, though I kept having coughing fits; I always have trouble taking in breath after I have a cold, possibly a temporary form of asthma.

People hung out after the event was over, and helped clean up, including dishes.  Someone offered me a ride, so I left.  The rain began to let up.  The clouds breaking up enough to reveal the sudden appearance of a bright, waxing, rising moon.  We drove along the perimeter of the lake, site of the earlier pathway of lights that the neighborhood does every December, the light now extinguished, the crowds, dispersed.

Back home, one of my housemates has been making the house into a home, and continued that earlier in the evening, so I came home into a more pleasant living room, and they'd hung up some Christmas swag I'd made earlier but hadn't gotten around to hanging.  It makes me happy in a way that has eluded me before, perhaps it's the motivation...hard to explain, like it's for everyone, not just for their own benefit?  It's nice.  (I don't really know who's doing it, though I could make a guess.)

Every time my mind wandered to "what ifs?" and "whys?", I stopped my thoughts and reminded myself that being here wasn't some substitute for anything else, not a distraction.  I was exactly where I wanted to be.

Eleven Days Until Christmas

I have a gig later this afternoon, and I should be there to help set up, but after running errands for the past couple of hours, I find I need a nap.

The days have been grey, cool, dark, damp.  One of the market vendors thought it might clear up in a bit, and commented on looking forward to the winter solstice, to celebrate the brightening of days, if even in the smallest of increments.  I was thinking a similar thing earlier in the morning.  But as the morning progressed into early afternoon, the clouds thickened up and a light mist began to fall.  I found I was taking shelter under a tree while waiting for a bus home that I'd written about sheltering under on another occasion.  It's an old spruce tree with a wide and thick canopy that blocks the rain.  A bit later, on the bus, the mists had turned to showers that looked a bit icy as they hit the windshield.  I think it's let up again.  Outside the window the mostly bare willow holds onto a few remaining leaves, their golden hue the only brightness against a monochrome sky.

I was sick for half of the week.  Probably just a bad cold, but it hit at the same time as a stomache virus, and I was brutally sick on Wednesday.  Didn't eat for two days, barely slept, though I tried to lay in the same position for about 16 hours, though the raging headache had mostly subsided by Thursday morning.  I did a load of laundry on Thursday, that's about what I had the energy for.  Went back to work on Friday, but my heart was racing, and a colleague suggested I should go to the doctor.  I went at lunch, the nearest clinic where I have always found the doctors to be invariably kind.  She told me to go home and go to bed.  Not because I was still sick, just exhausted.   I went home, a giant stuffed T-Rex guarding my work station in my absence, just because it was silly, and it stands at the right height to look over the counter.

The bright side about being sick (as usual), is that it's a bit of a forced elimination diet, and it really calms down the arthritis symptoms.  Aside from the coughing fits, and sore abs (and still being tired), physically, I feel good.

The Saturday Market was quiet when I first walked through.  I walked southward to run some other errands and look for Christmas gifts, the first block, every shop closed, but by the time I passed through the second one, small crowds waited outside the doors to be let in, and when I walked back through on my way home, every restaurant was full with a Saturday lunch crowd.  And while I stopped by a lot of booths, when I got home, I found the only food I'd gotten around to purchasing some apples, a bag of kale, and a couple of ripe truffles.  (I bought water bottles, too, they were on sale for $5.00.)

I feel on the mend.  I lasted two hours without blowing my nose, in the cold no less.  My speaking voice has dropped into a lower register, but I think I can still sing.

Outside, birds flock through the sky, and the winter-blooming plums break-out in spring-like pale pink, a brightener for the human heart in the darkest part of winter.  Somewhere beyond the envelope of clouds, it's snowing, and the next time the skies clear, the mountains will be white in the distance in all directions.  Until then, we practice the rituals that pass us from one season into the next.

And from Spain

Spain.  Hiking around in the heat.

Zubiri, Navarra. August 27/L Herlevi 2019

Navarra Morning. August 28/L Herlevi 2019

Sunflower Army, Navarra. August 29/L Herlevi 2019

Puenta la Reina, Navarra. August 30/L Herlevi, 2019

A couple pictures from late summer

France.  Hiking across the Pyrenees.

Orisson, August 26/L Herlevi 2019

Dawn in Orisson.  I spent the night in a room underneath the deck.  We each got a coin that ensured 5-minutes of shower time; there's limited water availability.  I hadn't been sure I would be coming this way when I left home, but I put in a reservation request just the same.  When I was able to access email, 2 days before my request date, I found I had an invoice to pay and a reservation.  Between that and the G-7 closing the French border up near Irun (my original destination), that sealed the Pyrenees hike.  And it's a tough crossing, but I probably could've done it in one day.  As it was, I split it into two, Orisson, 8 kms up from St Jean Pied de Port.  Hot, and 100% humidity; with air so thick that morning, you could barely see 20 feet in front of you.  The Refuge at Orisson suddenly appearing out of the mists.  The picture below is how it appeared later in the afternoon, once the mists had burned off.  There was a family dinner at 7 pm, where everyone introduced themselves and what brought them here.  At night, we'd left a window open, and moths and other insects attracted to the bathroom lights, collected inside.  Ones you'd probably never see otherwise.

Orisson, August 25/L Herlevi 2019

French Pyrenees, August 26/L Herlevi 2019

The second day was more dry, with a lot of wind.  Full of herds of horses (which I'd hoped to see, and made the walk worth it), crowds of people walking, jeeps of armed security driving down the road, and a very steep descent into Roncesvalles, the first village in Spain.  I was tired and happy to get a bed when I arrived.  I got a top bunk, but a woman I'd met in Orisson, remembered that top bunks were hard for me, and traded with me, without my asking.

French Pyrenees, August 26/L Herlevi 2019