Life of Wry

Eating’s a big part of this thing.

This…

Followed by this….

Followed by this…

You get the idea.

We live in meme rich times.

I’ll try and do a better job of saving my favorite ones, because, wow, there are a lot of funny, creative people out there who are meming it up like nobody’s business (thank god), but here are a recent few that I did save.

(Ok, I guess that was a little more political cartoony.. couldn’t help myself.)

Yeah.. I didn’t take a single picture today.. so memes it is.

Decades ago, when I’d go out for walks (back then they were runs), I’d pass this house on College Park. The house is in the loveliest setting.. sits back from the street, under towering sycamore trees with a traditional sort of front yard… a bit stately, but also comfortable. A meandering path to the front porch, textured white brick exterior, wooden carriage garage doors. Just charming.

And there would always be this older-ish fellow sitting in a chair in the window. His chair angled more toward the room than toward his yard and I could always see that he was reading the paper, or a book, and I could even see he had a mug of something, probably coffee, on the table next to his chair.  He was aglow in the light that illuminated the chair, and the rest of the room was comparatively dark, not creepily so, just a little less illuminated. I could see book shelves and a fireplace — things like that.

I can’t tell you how much I loved this scene. I loved the neighborhood, I loved the house, and I ached to be that guy sitting in the chair reading. It spoke to a sort of calm. Enough time in a day to be quiet, to get lost in a book, or to read up on something interesting or important. It spoke to wisdom, thoughtfulness. It also spoke to leisure and how we choose to use that time.

It was cozy, safe, intelligent even.

I have the hardest, hardest time relaxing enough, being clear enough of conscience, to plunk myself down in a chair and read. Usually, I have things both big and small — mostly small — on my to-do list, and I aim to get those done before I allow myself the liberty to sit and just… read. I’m not going to run through that list because it’s everybody’s list.. it’s the stuff of daily life and keeping oneself and household functioning. And maybe a few oddball things peculiar to my own OCD [smile, please] [sure you have those, too]. It seems like other people don’t have the same issues I have when it comes to finding reading time (aforementioned OCD?), but I am definitely working on this.

I could never count the times I’ve said, usually defensively, to Jim or whoever, “I’m just going to clear the decks, and when I do, I will be settling into [finally] [reading, writing, a particular project, a new best routine].”

I’ll probably never be closer to that point than during this virus-induced forced downtime… and I’m RETIRED, most of my time is downtime. Now’s a good time, amiright? (haven’t used that expression for awhile).

I haven’t cracked any of the books in any of my stacks (but plan to any second). I HAVE, however, listened to more podcasts, HAVE dipped my toes (Jim’s too) into the world of streaming media (in the second season of a 4-season show on Hulu…. SHOCKED I can even put those words together in a sentence…. and will watch Part III of the Ken Burns Vietnam documentary tonight), HAVE begun to cook more — a LOT more (for me) and am interspersing that with baking and truly enjoying it. Those have all been on my to-do list forever and I’m actually doing them.  And.. in the less fun but necessary category, I HAVE kept up a solid exercise routine, and HAVE learned how to clean — really clean — our house. And prolly more stuff too.

So as far as finding leisurely activities to do with all this leisure time, it’s working out reasonable well.

It’s taken real discipline not to set up a jigsaw puzzle because that would completely take me out of the game. I love them like crazy and get blindingly consumed to the exclusion of all else, so it’s a good thing I’m not doing that right now.  Yay for that.

But I do totally plan to be that guy in the window, any time now.

Oh, but here’s my screen shot for the day. Ever since we finished breakfast, I’ve been watching YouTube videos — also a totally new rabbit hole of a way to while away a ton of time — mostly of late night show hosts stuck at home doing their funny bits without audiences and music (which add more to their funniness than you’d ever imagine). Honestly, though, they’re still pretty funny (because: Trump. Material is just so abundant in the days of this clown car presidency). Anyway, this was a very funny conversation:

Time well spent!

‘Tis a very rainy day here in quarantine land. I watched my weather app and picked a time to head out on a walk when I was sure to avoid getting rained on.

I was at the farthest away point — rounding the corner in front of the Davis Art Center — when I thought, huh.. is that a.. raindrop?

It was.

By the time I finished, I was pretty drenched. At one point I thought, well… maybe this can be one of those nice walks in the rain. I was walking south for about a mile and a quarter in a very stiff south wind, and was getting quite pelted.. so it didn’t really feel like one of those soft rains it can be nice to walk in. Anyway… this:

And really, the rain wasn’t that horrible, but this is:

The playgrounds are now closed all over town. Sorry kids. The grownups weren’t able to maintain the 6′ rule so the authorities had to shut the whole thing down. No more family time at the parks. That made me sad.

Holy cow I’m pooped. Know why? I cleaned our house today. Like, the works, top to bottom. Let me just say, it’s been decades since I’ve done basic housecleaning. My total respect to those who do it regularly.

With all that’s going on in this pandemic-wracked world this does not rank — on any scale — but I’m still pooped.

So, with a small glass of port, here’s how I finished the evening.. bobbing blob-like in a hot bath.

That glowing blue light? That’s the blue tooth in the shower nozzle. Listened to The Daily, New York Time’s nightly podcast. Slick, huh?

There was one other thing that happened today that was a whole lot more fun: I got to have a Facetime conversation with this guy.. which, honestly, just made my week.

Here’s the news: His final college quarter began on Monday. All classes online, of course. He’s bored, but glad to have something to focus on. He’s finally taking the last of his humanities classes — two of them — both required in order to graduate. He’s also taking the final course in a graduate level mechanical engineering series, which he’s looking forward to; a physics course in waves; and one other class that I can’t remember. He’s applied to be an online test proctor… something they need a lot of right now because all the online classes at UCSD are creating a huge test taking challenge. Not sure how that’s going to work, but interesting times for the university.

Mostly, it was just a wonderful 45 minutes. Heaven for me. Miss him so much.

Everywhere ya go, the message is clear.

This one’s at the Putah Creek Lodge entrance point for the arboretum loop. Here’s Vicki washing her damn hands. (And note how long her hair’s getting… we’re all getting kinda shaggy.

And it was just a beautiful morning. Pretty, huh?

Remember a week or so ago when I shared the creativity and humanity of a friend who, unable to do her job outside the home (massage therapist), turned her attention to knitting and started making mask covers? (https://lifeofwry.com/2020/03/25/adaptation/)

Well, now Kellie’s making and selling soap. Her soaps are designed as single-use cubes, about a dozen to a tiny packet, and come in a variety of scents. Naturally I had to buy some!

Note: my order is Invoice 001!

So, we’ve been using them in the kitchen (and getting many more than one use per).

This is one of a million stories about how people are stepping up to find ways to be part of the solution in all of this. They’re channeling goodness and kindness to help others. Or  they’re exercising a bit of entrepreneurial ingenuity in order to survive, as other income dries up.  Or they’re running out of things to do at home. Or all of the above.

Nevermind she also has a newborn at home.

I spoke of things being scary… this stuff is scary I probably said a million times.

I spoke of that. Now I am feeling it.

I have been a smart consumer. I reference good sources, I read the commentary and analysis of smart people.

I’m smart. At least smart enough to understand some basics and keep a level head.

I’ve taken this seriously from the beginning. I’ve done what they said to do, because I’m a believer in facts, and science.

If I’ve been cavalier, it’s about feeling like I — and Jim and Peter — am/are squarely in the 80% who will self-resolve. Eighty percent is a good number. And I’ve had no doubt whatsoever, that if we get it, we will fight it off.

We are not high risk, we are fit and healthy, no underlying conditions, as they say.  Of course we could get it, but we won’t die from it. Of that I have been confident.

And perhaps that’s cavalier.

If I’ve been cavalier, it’s when I said, “I’d like to get it so I can develop the antibodies to fight it, so I can go out and know I am not a risk to others, so I can go out and know, at last, that I cannot get it now.”

If I’ve been cavalier, it’s when I thought that I should volunteer myself for one of those studies where they are analyzing the people whose immune systems are so strong that when they are exposed, they formed antibodies and, not just any antibodies, but super duper antibodies that are worthy of harvesting, and study for possible use in fighting this thing. I think a lot of my immune system.

That’s pretty cavalier.

But that’s how positive and confident I’ve felt about the course of this.

I’ve listened to the experts and believed the numbers.

Even if the president* didn’t… but that’s another post.

Everyone talks about numbers. How many will get infected, how many will die, how many died today? How many died in New York, Italy? In China (if they know)? How many ventilators and masks and other PPE do we need? How many months will this go on? How long must we self-isolate?

Things seem different today. The air is more foreboding.

Most of the time, I don’t listen to the president’s* briefings, I don’t have the stomach. I just get tired of screaming at the TV or radio or my laptop.  I do my best to limit myself to reliable sources.

I hear, however, that he was different today. He appeared scared. He seems to have finally taken in what has been going on around him for months. Apparently, now he believes his experts. Sorry I missed seeing that in today’s briefing.

This jacks up the anxiety.

So, I don’t listen to the White House, but I do listen, when I can, to Chris Cuomo. I like him, and trust him. I’m listening to him now, as I compose this post. Chris tested positive for the coronavirus today. His brother Andrew, the Governor of NY, commented on that this morning.

Looking at him, listening to him made the disease less abstract. And while I have every confidence he self-resolves, it’s alarming. I suppose it’s alarming because our senses are so heightened, the news stories so dire about those who get it and don’t self-resolve. Those numbers are frightening. Not because they exist as high percentages, but because the numbers are climbing exponentially, and the deaths are so horrific.

To borrow a concept from Chris’s commentary tonight: the only number that matters is the number “1.” While all the other numbers are horrific and scary and surreal, the only number we should focus on is “1”  — us, ourselves, each of us. And what we can do about all this. Focus on that.

We can take responsibility for ourselves and comply with the guidelines. If everybody just effin does that, we minimize the spread. Period. If we don’t, all the other numbers just go up. If we take that responsibility and stay at home, only 100,000 to 240,000 people die. If we don’t, millions die.

And this is why I feel so sickened and anxious tonight.  We’ve known it. We’ve respected the guidelines. But the president’s* task force today put real numbers on this horror of a  pandemic we’re all living through. The president, who’s been in denial all along, apparently believes it now. Chris Cuomo broadcast his show from his basement and looked like shit. The numbers are going up like rockets at the moment and there is no real end in sight.

So, yeah. Focusing on what I can do. Planning to self isolate the hell out of this thing.

Twenty four years ago, sitting on the wall in Central Park, people watching at Farmer’s Market (which we still do to this day, though now on a bench with a back), Jim and I decided we should get married. There was no “Will you marry me.” It was more like, “Do you think we should get married?” “Yeah!”

I always remember the exact day we came to this decision (which, really, we sort of always expected we would do once that ball got rolling) because it was also my dad’s birthday. Easy!

We rarely mark this particular occasion, I don’t know why. I think it’s one of those notable moments in life, perhaps even more notable than the actual day we got married, since it was truly the day we committed to spend the rest of our lives together. Our wedding day was the day we memorialized it with family, friends and signatures on a marriage contract.. and celebration! But the momentous, life-shaping decision was on March 30, 1996.

Maybe we’ll make a bigger deal out of the day from now on! Anyway.. just a few of my favorite pics of the happy, comfy couple:

Yosemite, Tuolumne Meadows, Murphy Creek, July 2005..

Dana Fork, Tuolumne River, Yosemite, August 2014..

I think this is on 395, after leaving Yosemite one year, July 2008 ..

St. Andrews, Scotland, May 2019..

Atop Mt. Hoffman, Tuolumne Meadows, Yosemite, June 2006

Tuscany, Italy, May 2006

Donner Summit.. February 2006

A party at Peter’s day care, August 2001..

Wedding day, September 21, 1996..

This is the problem with immersing oneself in the world of food-cooking-baking-organizing thereof…..   for example: the NYT food section (I subscribed about 6-10 months ago and am drowning in piles of recipes I’ve printed out and can’t wait to try); Youtube cooking videos (I actually watched a ton of Julia Childs videos this morning of her preparing vegetables… so, so entertaining); my decades-long recipe project (which is now spread out on our huge project table in the pantry/laundry room, with piles arranged by food type, binders full of already-tabbed and sheet-protected recipes, file folders full of recipe dreams of yesteryear, file folders of seasonal menus and recipes, baskets full of clipped recipes … you get the idea)….

And…

… the problem with being immersed in all that is that is you find irresistible recipes for cookies, which, combined with long days and short to-do lists…. leads to baking a buncha cookies you might not need.  Like these:

Which are fantastic, both as raw dough and as finished products. Dense, chewy, with hard, crystalized edges… like perfect brownies.. but cookies, instead.

Tried to get a good closeup:

Here’s the recipe:

My one problem… thought I had unsweetened cocoa, but I had thrown all the containers out that I’d had when I moved stuff into the new pantry (they were old). So had to go with sweetened chocolate milk powder. The cookies are fantastic, but definitely sweet.

(And I feel a little sick.) (Feel like an ice water diet is in order.)