Shelter-in-Place Day 44

I gave blood today. Literally. But before that, I was already feeling rather anemic as I listened to my talented poet friends read their hit-it-out-of-the-park poems. Especially when I then read my feeble attempt. I realize this sounds very woe-is-me, but it's just that I could see a real difference between where they were with their work and where I was today. I'm not smart enough to do this, I thought.

But I also thought that I have a choice: I could take that feeling of inadequacy and the probably-disproportionate low self-image, throw my hands in the air, have a little pity party with little pity party piñatas and pity party cupcakes and punch, or regard the experience as something that can be a teacher. (Actually, the pity party cupcakes might have helped with any low-blood-sugar contributing to the feelings...)

After the poetry zoom session, I walked for an hour to D's work to pick up the car so I could get S. from work and then go to the blood donation, and for the whole walk (actually, much of it was a jog, because I was late), I thought about how I could improve that inferior poem. And I thought about other poems I want to write. And how they could be better. So I guess for better or worse, I'm not ready to throw in the virtual towel yet.

Shelter-in-Place Day 43

I spent far too long today knitting and listening to Commonplace. Not the worst use of my time, and I certainly did other (more important) things as well, including a workout and emailing the Library Commission to express the desire I share with so many of my coworkers to find alternative ways to promote the library and support our communities. I think most of us would be willing to work from home to answer technical and reference questions, perform library advisory, translate a backlog of things into Spanish. But so far, working from home has not been allowed except to a very few people.

As reported in publiclibrariesonline.org, apparently, San Francisco public library employees are busy right now in spite of branch closures:

As employees of the City and County of San Francisco, many library workers are being activated on a regular basis as Disaster Service Workers (DSWs) to perform a variety of functions – food pantry workers, contact tracing, cataloging of government documents, bilingual community outreach, among other assignments.

I think at least one of my colleagues has proposed that we volunteer to help with services such as these, but at the moment the Library administration and Union are negotiating how to meet an expected budget shortage, whether/how payroll might be affected, when/how we might return. And then the Commission will weigh in and have the final say about most decisions. Having sat in on a Union zoom meeting last night with about 70 other people, I can say it's complicated. 

Interesting to note that the same article mentions Seattle library is considering opening only their restrooms as a start to help communities. A very valuable service, but I can only imagine how much sanitizing would be involved to protect staff and patrons right now.

Shelter-in-Place Day 42

Today was the first day I can really say I felt emotionally vulnerable since this "SIP" started. I think I was triggered by listening to the news for a few minutes and then going to two different grocery stores only to realize that in both cases, it was before 9am on a Tuesday, and therefore designated "senior" shopping time. And when I went back out to the stores, I saw a couple of cases of very loose interpretations of "social distancing" by people who frankly did not look well. 

My heightened emotions and briefly shaky mental state gave me only the smallest sense of how difficult this pandemic must be if one is concurrently dealing with mental illness.

Of course, thinking about other people who are suffering is only sometimes a good way to snap out of your own anxiety and refocus on compassion. Other times, it can be counterproductive. What helped today was the knowledge that what I was feeling would soon pass. As it did.

Shelter-in-Place Day 41

I had thought to write about the bee hive inspections and "manipulation" I did a few days ago in this blog post, but it will have to wait for another day. At least we have good weather right now, so that any queens who are needing to find a DCA (drone congregation area, aka speed dating hookup spot) will be able to go out, mate with seven or more males - who then die - and find her way back to the hive to start laying. Provided she can find her way back and does not get eaten by a bird, lost, fly into an oncoming car...it's a dicey world out there.

Speaking of which, yesterday I found a dragonfly who had lost most of one of her four wings and was all but dead. I was so saddened. I wanted to help. I couldn't. Both I and my older daughter wanted to be "bug doctors" when we were children. Maybe that feeling doesn't go away. I moved the dragonfly first from our pond, where it was floating, to the cement, then out of the sun. It was strange and beautiful, even in its broken state. Which reminded me of the world. I had the same helpless, it's-too-far-gone feeling with this alien-eyed insect that I sometimes do with the planet. 

It reminded me of the poet Adam Zagajewski's beautiful poem, here translated by Clare Cavanagh:

Try to Praise the Mutilated World

Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June's long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You've seen the refugees going nowhere,
you've heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth's scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the gray feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.

Shelter-in-Place Day 40

It was a day for lightening up: I took pictures of, then threw away,  guitar song sheets from 1973 (lots of things like Hang Down Your Head, Tom Dooley, Tingalayo and Get Together (by the Youngbloods). I also did the same with ribbons that I won swimming when I was 10-12 years old (Go, Marinwood Waterdevils!). Lots of 4th, 5th and 6th place colors, some 2nd, and one 1st.  I was not at all fast, and I hated the competitions, but I actually enjoyed practices in the early morning, with the steam rising from the pool to mingle with the fog.

I also sorted through papers today (so many papers!), weeded, weeded more, "went to" a poetry book launch on zoom, laughed for about an hour straight with the kids when N. stopped by and S. learned the joys of playing the mouth harp, and encouraged D. while he started to clean and fixed a couple of half-done light switches.

As I said, a day for lightening up. In many ways.

Where have all the flowers gone? Must be somewhere behind the weeds....

Shelter-in-Place Day 39

These days, the weekends are distinct only because neither D. nor S. work Saturdays or Sundays, and so they are here all day.

I have always had a terrible problem with being cranky at people who are relaxing while I am "working," but there is no way I can justify that crankiness now. These two are actually physically going to work during the week, while I am at home trying, but failing, to get Everything™done. They deserve to play D&D, nap, hang out, mod games, do nothing if they want.

Ironically, I got more done today than usual, so far. Submitted poetry before 6pm, weeded, cleaned the honey extractor equipment, cleaned the guest bathroom (yikes!), worked on a poem, listened to Commonplace while knitting (that was my break), and moved some empty boxes out of our bedroom. The idea has been to transfer an assortment of things, once I've gone through them and know what I'm keeping, into these boxes. But that's an idea that's been stalled out for so long, it's embarrassing.

Another important breakthrough happened, however, and I look forward to sharing it once it's a fait accompli. 

In the news lately, there has been a spike in calls to poison control centers because people are apparently following someone's suggestion aboutgetting light in the body or injecting disinfectants:

THE PRESIDENT:...So, supposing we hit the body with a tremendous — whether it’s ultraviolet or just very powerful light — and I think you said that that hasn’t been checked, but you’re going to test it. And then I said, supposing you brought the light inside the body, which you can do either through the skin or in some other way, and I think you said you’re going to test that too. It sounds interesting.

ACTING UNDER SECRETARY BRYAN: We’ll get to the right folks who could.

THE PRESIDENT: Right. And then I see the disinfectant, where it knocks it out in a minute. One minute. And is there a way we can do something like that, by injection inside or almost a cleaning. Because you see it gets in the lungs and it does a tremendous number on the lungs. So it would be interesting to check that. So, that, you’re going to have to use medical doctors with. But it sounds — it sounds interesting to me.
So we’ll see. But the whole concept of the light, the way it kills it in one minute, that’s — that’s pretty powerful.

Words fail me. 

Shelter-in-Place Day 38

I have a very short memory when it comes to some things. If I wanted to lie, I could say this comes from living in the present moment. (Ha! Not so....) I think it's more likely a defense mechanism learned early on and tied to compartmentalizing. This is just to say that I can hardly remember, at all, what day-to-day life was like before the pandemic.

I mean, if I thought about it, I'd get there. But the past has a very unreal quality to me. Early senility or associated disease? Let's hope not.

On a more humorous note, however, last night I dreamt that I had died (that's not the funny part), and the afterlife, I realized, was basically like a stage set of New Orleans a few days after Mardi Gras. I have never been to New Orleans, but this place had streets lined with creole townhouses, shuttered bars, jazz joints, and little cafes with bistro tables on the sidewalk. There was post-party detritus everywhere, and people were walking around looking slightly confused and regretful. The good news was that the deal was you had all the time you needed to spend at this place and figure out what you hadn't figured out while alive. It was like a cross between sheltering in place and Groundhog Day.

photo by Ken Lund, from flickr commons

Maybe I've been spending too much time alone.

Shelter-in-Place Day 37

Jarred up some honey today, wrote, submitted poems, had a zoom session with other poets, made a phone call to a colleague, did laundry and dishes and garden work, and had wine with a couple of friends at a social distance with masks (between sips) in the back yard of one of the women. Washed hands thoroughly afterwards. This is not the exact order of events, but it represents the day. Again, how am I not doing the other things on my to-do list when I have all day? It's a mystery. Although I will admit that the wine I had (on an empty stomach) made me feel as though my whole body had been novacained. So that represented a slow down in productivity this evening.

Shelter-in-Place Day 36

On the coronavirus front, here's the latest news that I think is worth noting:

• cats have tested positive for the virus. 😿
• the city of Santa Rosa expects a $20 million shortfall from decreased sales, hotel tax, and permit revenues. Next year, they expect property tax revenue to decline as well. 
• the county has put up signs regarding travel so that people can't claim ignorance if stopped by authorities.

https://www.pressdemocrat.com/news/10912106-181/sonoma-county-signs-discourage-nonessential

The loss of tax revenue will impact the library considerably, although I missed the budget meeting that discussed possible changes that will result. The Union and Administration are in conversation about payroll changes. I've not been as involved as conscious dictates I should be. So that will likely change now. At the very least, I can show up and be informed. 

Shelter-in-Place Day 35

I really don't understand how I can be home all day, be busy and active all day, and still manage to get so little done. The great plans I have before that first cup of coffee have typically come to naught by the time I go to bed.

But at least I got into my larger hive today to see what had happened to it, and it's not only queenright but there is a tiny brood starting up again and a tiny population to help them. I hope there will be enough workers to feed the brood. The other, smaller hive, has a huge population but frame after frame of drone brood - another type of problem entirely. In the next day or two, when the weather is even hotter, I'll do a little more work with both and may have my first honey of the season to process soon.

I also worked on poetry for hours today - my own and that of others, and did weeding and other around-the-house chores. And hope springs eternal that tomorrow I'll accomplish more.

Sunday, I helped neighbors weed the front yard of another neighbor who had left in an ambulance earlier in the week - essentially a 5150. We are doing what little we can to assist with his situation. It felt good to do something for someone else outside of the family, but it's nothing in the scheme of things. The death count in the city of New York alone is nearly 15,000 as of right now.  And I'm worrying about weeds.

Shelter-in-Place Day 34 and Married-to-D. Year 30

As our 29th wedding anniversary, today marks the beginning of our 30th year married. We celebrated by telling each other we loved each other. Which made today no different from every other day.

No dinner out, of course, although I made pork tenderloin with a glaze and mashed potatoes for him, and a quesadilla for myself before I joined a zoom poetry critique group meeting. No cards or presents, either, but we're not big on those anyway. We may try for sushi take-out later in the week, and next year, we hope to have a better celebration. But what will the world look like then, I wonder?

Today the price of oil went negative for the first time ever. The number of confirmed covid19 cases is nearly 2.5 million. Protests are popping up here and there because people (Americans) want the stay-at-home orders lifted. Protestors want to go back to work, restart the economy. They want their "freedom" back but do not seem to believe or care that it's not just their own health they put at risk with their actions. Just thinking about it makes me cranky.

I feel as though the protestors must not know someone who has been laid low or killed by this virus. According to the estimates, that won't be true for much longer.

Shelter-in-Place Day 33

I realize now that even though initially it was called a "shelter-in-place" order, "stay-at-home" is more commonly the phrase used. But at 33 days in, I don't think I'll change my post titles.

We interrupt our usual rambling to present instead a series of images. Yesterday I ran around to all the flowering plants in the front and back yard to take pictures. This is the result, neither cropped nor filtered:

 

 

 

  

  

  

Shelter-in-Place Day 32

To whom am I writing these posts, if no one is reading them? Perhaps to my future self, and that's all. Or to my children, should they stumble across this blog, which I occasionally think needs to be downloaded, post by post, and backed up. You know, for when the internet fails us.

These days, we are probably all more aware than usual that nothing is a "given."

Did people on the fringes of the Great Depression realize what was happening when it was happening, realize the impact? Or was it only the investors who took their own lives, or the farmers ruined by the coincidental Dust Bowl or people in the heart of who it understood the immensity of it?

I do not have young children. Nor do my young adult children yet have children. We still have three incomes in this house. I think this puts me in a special bubble that prevents true panic or existential dread from seeping in. Really, it's those factors (plus our current health, and the good weather) that enable me to keep my equanimity. As much as I'd like to give credit to Tara Brach's wonderful Radical Acceptance audiobook and Oprah & Deepak's 21 day meditation practice and my actually getting dressed, exercising, and writing every day.

I only start to panic when I think how fortunate I am, and whether that means my turn is coming and a horrible downfall is inevitable. Except, why not enjoy the calm before the storm, and then recognize the storm as part of the process too? That is Brach talking, I'm sure. Along with the three ounces of Two-Buck Chuck I've had so far tonight.

Shelter-in-Place Day 31

Good news first: my nephew's surgery went well and he is in recovery. They did not need to remove any organs except his appendix, fortunately. The doctor was surprised that there wasn't more infection. I am going to (not coincidentally) take this opportunity to thank those friends who did everything from pray to "remote healing" for him. Not only could that not have hurt, I personally think it helped. (Sorry, my atheist or sceptic friends. But there it is.)

I braved Costco just as it opened this morning; it wasn't too bad, really - just a little surreal, as it was last time, with everyone wearing their masks out front. The new normal.

I also worked out, planted yet more seedlings in the yard, and submitted poems before dark this time.  There are now seven places in our front and back yard where I have planted broccoli seedlings. As a sort of experiment to see what works. 

Also, I have been actually making dinner for my family. Meat and rice, usually. And meanwhile, I fix myself whatever vegetarian thing. And sometimes, S. makes her keto meal. So it's not as though we all sit down at the table together to a five-course meal and pheasant under glass. But meat is, sometimes, back on the menu these days for D. Steak (defrosted, having lived in our freezer for a period of time I shall not disclose) and fresh Costco ribs, tonight. 

 

Shelter-in-Place Day 30

Today I am distracted by concern about my nephew, who is facing an appendectomy with complications due to infections. I want to just stop everything and pray and send good thoughts his way and envision everything going well. But I don't seem capable of doing so for long, so I seem to just pop in and out of that mode while I do everything else today. It's like a tape playing at low volume in the background. May he be well...may his body respond to the antibiotics...may his condition improve...may the surgery go smoothly....

And again, I realize that this is just a taste of what millions of people all over the world are going through, have been going through, with loved ones who have been more directly affected by SARS-CoV-2. I feel huge respect and gratitude for the people who are working the front lines - all those medical workers, first responders, grocery store clerks, and other essential workers. May they be well...Yes. The tape is looping.

Shelter-in-Place Day 29

I was in the driveway today speaking to a friend on the phone - because that's the only place that has reliable cell reception at our house - and she wondered out loud how many days we'd been at this, and I was able to give her an accurate answer because of this blog. We both thought that it felt more like six weeks than four.

On a different note, I think it's worth recording that so far, friends or family members have told me that they believe one or more of the following:

• that the virus was released from a biological weapons lab by accident
• that the virus was released from a biological weapons lab on purpose
• that organized crime was behind it & their intent is to make more room on earth (think Ebenezer Scrooge's "decrease the surplus population) 
• that the media is making this into a much bigger deal than it is
• that more people died from the flu in 2018 & 2019 than covid19 will kill
• that the hospitals are blaming covid19 for all deaths to get more funding
• that the damage to the economy is the real danger here
• that fear of death from covid19 ups one's chances of dying from the it
• that this is a way for the uber-wealthy to control California real estate 

Those are the ones that come to mind as most striking. These postulations have told me more about the belief systems of the people providing them than they have about the pandemic. Perhaps some facts will come to light at a later time which will change what we think is happening right now. My feeling is that whatever did or did not cause this, for whatever innocent or nefarious purpose, it's here. I do not believe that it is fictional, or that it is not serious, or that it is the least of our worries. I do believe that the world, and how most of us operate in it, will never be the same. 

Shelter-in-Place Day 28

Honestly, if I didn't have the previous post titles as a reference, I would not be able to keep track of how long this stay-at-home order has lasted. The days do blur a bit, although events like zoom sessions with poets help tack dates into place.

Today felt like a real break from (non) routine because I took the car to the dealership for a recall issue and tune-up, and spent nearly three hours killing time not at home. I waited - first alone at an outside table at a nearby sandwich shop, where I finished reading the excellent Weather by Jenny Offill, and then in a corner near the empty salesroom at the dealership, where they had a cluster of chairs and no one in them but me. I listened to the Commonplace podcast with Gabrielle Calvocoressi and knitted, thankful that my earbuds mostly drowned out the sales pitches being made over the phone in a cubicle ten feet away, which were often followed by self-congratulatory re-plays of the previous transactions between salesmen. Before that, I had taken S. to work before dawn, worked out to an excellent FB routine a fellow beekeeper leads, and taken D. to work. After that, I washed the dog, weeded, gardened, picked D. up from work, and tended to my writing duties.

The other day, I cleaned out the little storage shed that had held the huge pump system for our 450-gallon living room fish take. Now it houses my beekeeping equipment. I also tore out and re-spackled part of the the outside wall below our shower where the paint was pulling up from moisture. And I have put some of the vegetable seedlings into containers outside. Fingers crossed they continue to grow so we'll have broccoli and snow peas and arugula.

Shelter-in-Place Day 27

I had my first pandemic dream early this morning; it was vivid and more involved (as my dreams usually are), but the part that had to do with the pandemic was this: I was shopping at a mall somewhere in some dream-version of southern Marin, and the mall was packed with people, busily jostling one another - none of whom was wearing a mask. I was shocked. I told a couple of people that in Sonoma County, just the next county north in other words, everyone was wearing masks when out shopping.  I was then mercilessly teased for overreacting and buying into the "hype" and "story." "Covid19 is not even real," they told me. "It's a scam." "It's not!" I insisted. More mocking ensued, including people reaching out to touch me and even blow their breath on me just to get a reaction. Not fun.

Then today, from the county and reiterated by the city:

Order of the Health Officer: Facial Coverings

All persons shall wear facial coverings before they enter any indoor facility besides their residence, any enclosed open space, or while outdoors when the person is unable to maintain a six-foot distance from another person at all times. This Order shall become effective at 12:01 a.m. on Friday, April 17, 2020.

I wonder about my dog walks. I don't usually wear facial covering because I can maintain at least a six-foot distance from other people. But then again, I don't want to stress anyone. I have a friend with serious respiratory issues who was angry about other people not wearing PPE in public, especially because they may be asymptomatic and represent a danger to her health, even if she's very well protected. What strange times. And is this still only the beginning stages of a totally different world? We will certainly never be quite the same. Hokkaido reports a second wave of coronavirus infections. There are warnings that the meat supply in the U.S. is dangerously low. WHO declares the virus 10 times more deadly than "the 2009 flu." And the White House is talking about wanting to re-open the country.

Shetler-in-Place Day 26 Easter

It's flying chocolate bell day, Zombie Jesus day, the day our Lord and Savior rose from the dead. It's the day your grandmother gives you a stuffed rabbit.

Really, though, it's a day when there are millions of people worrying about, and being separated from, other millions of people whom they love. It's sobering. Which is probably why I opened this entry with silliness. I often resort to flippancy in the face of dire circumstances. It's a coping mechanism that I'm sure many people in my life, especially those more seriously-minded, find irritating. This is not to say that I am not capable of being serious.

There certainly was a time when I loved this holiday because it represented hope and the resurrection of Jesus, which I considered symbolic of the resurrection of all of the things that return in the Spring. Now, because I am (as I say) "between religions," I no longer blast Keith Green's "He is Risen!" in the house on Easter.

Instead, this morning, while S. and N. and A. dyed eggs - including 2 raw "surprise" eggs - we sang along to the mix I'd created for our New England trip in 2018, which never did get air time and contains everything from "We are the Pirates Who Don't Do Anything" from Veggie Tales to Lorde and Fall Out Boy to songs from Wicked.  Then we had Welsh cakes into which I had forgotten to add sugar. They were still eaten, but it really wasn't the same. Obviously, singing while baking has its downfalls.

But again. What a first-world-non-covid19 problem. It. Doesn't. Matter.

What does matter is that we're not out of the woods yet. I send out love to the people suffering right now, which includes my half-sister, recovering from open heart surgery, and my nephew, suffering appendicitis. I do tonglen. I try to keep myself and my family healthy - and, actually, omitting the sugar from the Welsh cakes probably helped in that regard. I exercise. I'm growing vegetables and am grateful for every egg the hens give us, and take solace from my hives, and actually enjoy hearing from friends and family. Today was the first day I realized that I do, indeed, miss seeing the people I used to see on a regular basis. I'm still relishing and taking advantage of time at home. But it will be good, at some point, to spend time in person (not just zoom) with others outside of my family again.

Shelter-in-Place Day 25

It is very late. Four of us have just finished a two hour game of Cards Against Humanity. There was much laughter, as one might expect.

It's not such a bad thing if your kids and their significant others are willing to let you play such a silly, irreverent, and potentially offensive game with them. It might have helped that there was a little alcohol and sugar involved. Maybe it's an Easter morning warm up. Although they drank more than I did, and may be more blurry in the morning than I'll be. Just as well, because I'll be the one making breakfast and, probably, hiding the small bit of "essential" candy I bought at Safeway.

D. and I are about to treat ourselves to an almost-midnight showing of MST3000. We'll see how long into it I last, but I just feel loathe to put the day to bed.

Tomorrow, I can recap what else I did today. For now, a little more hilarity before midnight....