I Hate It When That Happens

I saw it on Facebook: Anti-Vaccine Televangelist Marcus Lamb Dies of Covid-19 at 64.

And I must admit that my first reaction was to hit the laughing emoji. But I restrained myself and gave a simple thumbs-up--fairly neutral, simply signifying that I'd read the piece.

On reflection, I have to say the angry emoji would have been more appropriate. How many gullible fools has Lamb dissuaded from the vaccine? A vaccine that is our only hope of someday seeing the end of this threat. Kinda like TB and polio and the various childhood illnesses that used to be so common.

Nope, Mr. Lamb, I'm glad you're gone. Way to stick it to the liberals!

 

Random Rambles and Rants in Late Summer

The maple tree says it's time. The past few days have been our hottest of the summer so it's pleasant to think that fall is on its way.

The chicks that Josie and I purchased back in the spring are all grown up and have been moved in with our laying flock's old girls. Some discussion of pecking order has ensued but John says he expects that the Speckled Sussex (above) will emerge as top dogs chickens. 

These pretty girls are Buff Orpingtons --known around here as Buff Orphans, as a friend's neighbor once called them.

Did I mention that it's hot? And our county is hot too, full of anti-vax, anti-mask people. It's depressing.  And scary. We are being very cautious and limiting exposure--and wearing masks in the grocery store--where too many are not. I've again postpone some routine healthcare appointments and reluctantly decided against getting my hair cut by a professional. I know she's vaccinated and wears a mask--I don't know if that's true for her other clients. So I take a mirror and some scissors out on the deck and have at it.

A year and a half of this. The isolation and bad haircuts aren't a problem. Worrying about my family contracting the Delta strain is the problem. And I'm getting pretty hard-hearted--finding it impossible to muster up even an iota of sympathy for those folks who gasp through their ventilators as they are dying that they should have gotten the vaccine, should have worn masks. . . 

We can have herd immunity or we can have thinning of the herd--Live Free and Die.  

 

The New Normal?

First off, the pictures aren't related to what I have to say (except, perhaps, on some strange subliminal level. 

It's my calendar--suddenly filling up with Things To Do after over a year of blankness. Long postponed routine maintenance (dentist, eye doctor, etc.) And people getting in touch, planning get togethers, seeking a return to normal life.  All good, all welcome.

But.

The pandemic's not over. The new variant is continuing to spread--chiefly among the unvaccinated but there are reports of even vaccinated folks contracting covid.

So we are continuing to exercise caution, even thought we're vaccinated. I've had the unpleasant task of telling an old friend not to come to visit since she's not vaccinated. And I'm starting--though it's half a year away-- to worry about the Easter Party. At this point, I'm inclined to think it should be restricted to vaccinated people (except for kids for whom there's not yet a vaccine.)

But how to do this? Traditionally the event's been open to whoever shows up, no questions asked. But, as was true the past two years when there was no party, I don't want this beloved event to be a source of infection.

And, alas, at this point I know there are friends and habitual attendees out there who for reasons I don't understand (ie. non-medical) choose not to get the vaccine. Their choice, certainly. But if their choice has the potential of endangering our larger community, then I am left with a hard choice of my own.

Maybe things will sort themselves out before I have to make a decision. I sure hope so.

 

Fully Vaccinated Social Interaction!

Oh. the excitement! Friends to lunch!

A Mexican mini-feast--Fish tacos with jicama/cabbage slaw, spicy garbanzos, calabacitas (summer squash and zucchini, sauteed with onion and red jalapenos,) Mexican farmer cheese, guacamole, sour cream, salsa verde . . . and spritzers of bubbly water with pomegranate juice. Mixed strawberries, pineapple, and blueberries for dessert, along with coffee and chocolate truffles.

And conversation! Wow! I could get used to this.

 

Second Shot -- Next Day

 Sore arm and achy all over--but I so often feel achy all over. Then as the day went on, I felt less and less inclined to do anything. That's okay--just means the vaccine's working. Or I could blame it on the overcast weather and temps in the thirties. Or I could blame it on watching part of the laughable defense in the impeachment trial all the while knowing that the co-conspirators in the GOP were going to fall in lockstep behind their dear leader. 

What do you suppose the vote would be if it were secret?

Second Shot!

 

And oh! the relief! Not that we'll be doing anything differently for fourteen days. But I find myself thinking about maybe a haircut. . . getting my teeth cleaned . . . doing the grocery shopping . . . (John's been doing that during the early senior hours.) And I might just drive around taking pictures. . .

 I feel like these venturesome daffodils, poking their heads out from last year's leaves.

In time, we'll get together with friends. Someday I'll feel comfortable taking Josie to a playground. 

But it's nice to find how little I've missed 'normal' life. We rarely ate out anyway and almost never went to movies or concerts. And I've come to really enjoy the convenience of my Zoom classes. Of course, not going anywhere is easy when you live exactly where you want to be and can see for miles.

Again I must commend our county health department. So organized--the whole thing took a little over twenty minutes, including the mandatory fifteen minute wait after the shot.

First Shot!

Madison County's Health Department is handling vaccines in an admirable fashion. When we saw on their Facebook page that they were taking appointments for those over 75, I called at once and was given a time slot. A later call collected our insurance and health info. So yesterday, all we had to do was show up.  There was no waiting. We stayed in the car, masks on, while the charming provider verified our names. Then we signed a paper, bared our arms, and got the shots--all without leaving the car.

We had to wait fifteen minutes to be sure there were no immediate adverse reactions. There weren't--except from our car which refused to start--dead battery.

No worries! The charming provider went and got her car, pulled it in next to us, and she and John hooked up the jumper cables. Presto! We were on the road again.

Now that's what I call a full service health department.
 

Josie and the Princess in the Tower

Someone (Jayna?) asked for a video of Josie and the Castle People. Josie talks to them in a wee high voice that I can't always follow. And she keeps blocking the camera. Sigh. The brief video is HERE.

In other news, I'm thrilled to say that Claui, as a healthcare provider working with the elderly,  has received her first dose of the vaccine, and that John and I are in the subgroup (over 75) slated next. Will be calling the Health Department today to find out when we might get the shot. 

The light at the end of the tunnel is getting brighter! If the Loser in the White House just doesn't express his frustration by launching a missile . . .

 

Down the Road

Our late neighbor Mearl used to say dismissively of some folks that they were "bad to go down the road." In other words, they were running around rather than staying home and tending their gardens.

I've never been bad to go down the road--but the pandemic (and John's willingness to do the grocery shopping) has raised my stay-at-homeness to a new level.  Apart from one socially distanced outdoor dinner with friends last month, and two trips to the car mechanics  plus one to hand off Josie to her momma in Asheville (where I never got out of the car,) I've not left the farm. 

On Tuesday, however, I answered a request from our wonderful library to come and be recorded reading some children's books for their online program of community readers. This was the FIRST time I have gone anywhere that required putting on a mask.  The mask was required to walk through the library-- we did the recording outside. 

And as long as I was out, I proceeded along to the Board of Elections to pick up some forms for requesting absentee ballots. The county offices are closed to the public but phone numbers are posted on the doors and you can call and make your request and someone in a mask will come to the door and hand over the forms. Nice! 

And done. It was pleasant to see the river again and to notice the flowers of late summer coming on. But at no point did I feel the urge to do anything else.  I'm afraid this Covid thing has outed me as a natural born recluse. 

Of course, John and Josie and her family are a regular part of my life, as well as my social media friends. I keep up with Ethan and Aileen and other family via Facebook and email. 

 So not a total recluse perhaps.  

The Great Reset--Two Scenarios

It's no news that we are a divided nation. But now, even a simple thing like wearing a mask or not has beome a political statement. And several scenarios are emerging. 

Scenario A: Open up everything! Crowd the streets. (And the rallies--don't forget the rallies!) Throw off those masks and gloves! Get up in the face of that old lady wearing a mask and shuffling along those madated pathways in the grocery store. Cough on her lettuce. What pussies some people are! Let the sick and the poor die. Too bad about the nursing homes and the prisons and the ICE concentration camps-- those people are nothing but a drain on society anyway. 

Silence and ignore those science guys who are warning about a second wave.  Force poor people to work by declaring businesses open, thus denying unemployment benefits. Limit testing. Control release of data. Hey, control development of a vaccine and limit who can afford it. Chip away at the social safety net till it’s gone. Make healthcare expensive and difficult to obtain. 

The weak, who consume resources without contributing, will die—those troublesome people of color in greater numbers, perhaps. Only the strongest of the underclass will survive—the better to serve the wealthy. And business will thrive.

Scenario B: Stay cautious--the pandemic hasn't peaked. And there may be a second wave. Continue social distancing.  Cut your own hair. Get to know your kids. Realize that it’s time to expand Medicare to universal coverage. Realize that no matter how wealthy and insured you may be, it’s the uninsured and undiagnosed who don’t seek help who will be fixing your meals, handling your groceries, doing your hair and your nails.

Realize that it’s past time to raise minimum wages.  Who do you need right now? The nurse or EMT, the cleaner, the grocery clerk, all the people who keep essential services running. Or the CEOs who make obscene amounts of money while keeping their hands clean?

Use the time to get in touch with forgotten skills like raising your own food, making do with less, cooking, reading.

Notice the changes in air quality that have occured as mankind is forced to stop polluting. Consider what healing the planet could mean, as we heal ourselves.

Margaret Mead was once asked what anthropologists see as an early sign of civilization and she replied, “A healed femur.” A broken femur, that leg bone from hip to knee, would mean certain death unless the injured one had caregivers to bring food and water and to protect the invalid from other harm. 

Civilized man, in Mead’s view, cares for the weak. 

Our response to this pandemic will measure how deeply the veneer of civiliztion goes.

Stay Focused ?

Right. This should be a great opportunity for everone who's self-isolating to unleash their inner creativity, shouldn't it? Or get around to long postponed projects. Or just get to know themselves? Shouldn't it?

I exempt from this those parents with children at home--though I suspect some of them are getting mighty creative in their dealings with their offspring. The same for folks working from home--the commute may have disappeared but other bits of life may well be more complicated.

In talking with the students in my (now online) creative fiction class, most of them have said they are writing less, rather than more.

I'm not surprised. Aside from the other online distractions --museums and zoos on display, impromptu serenades, and any number of other opportunties for amusement and/or improvement, I find myself paying far more attention to the news these days, spending lots of time reading opinion pieces and articles, all of which contribute to a kind of low-grade worry--mainly for family and friends but also for the state of health of our democracy. 

How can I be creative, how can I even undertake spring cleaning when I see the chaos in this administration's response to the pandemic? I can just barely manage blog posts, normal household chores, and my editing for class; how could I possibly start a new story when I read the news that SCOTUS is abetting the Republican push to make voting harder, even in this time of plague or that the Orange Ego is firing everyone who speaks the truth and putting Jared in charge of yet another bit of government. 

Of course I've called and written my congresspersons--and received  soothing form letters in return--not that I ever expected anything else.  

So I turn to comfort re-reading -- Pride and Prejudice followed by John Grisham's The Firm ( a classic example of terrific pacing in a thriller, plus, and this is no small thing these days, the good guys triumph over both the bad guys and the FBI) -- and comfort viewing--still working our way through All Creatures Great and Small,  with a break away now and then -- A Fish Called Wanda, The Big Lebowski, O, Brother Where Art Thou? (for the dialogue and the laughs) and The Client (another Grisham where the little guy triumps over the Mob and the government) were recent diversions.  

For me, that's what matters right now--doing what I can to keep our life normal, finding joy and sometimes even focus in the small familiar things.  And, of course, Josie is one of those.

Stay safe, you all, and find what works for you in this strange time.

Eating the Strawberry

On these beautiful days, in isolation on the mountain, as the 
pandemic grows and the economy shrinks, I find myself remembering this koan based on a parable the Buddha told:

A man crossing a field encountered a tiger. He ran and the tiger bounded after him. Soon the man came to the edge of a steep cliff. With no other way to escape, he grabbed a vine that hung there and leaped over the edge.  Then he swung there, halfway down.

Above him, the tiger watched and pawed at the vine. The man shuddered and looked down. At the base of the cliff paced another tiger.

Two mice, one black and one white began to nibble at the vine. Looking up, looking down, the man saw a little strawberry plant growing out of the cliff beside him. Its berries were ripe red and fragrant. He reached out a hand and picked one.

How sweet it tasted! 

Miss Birdie and the Virus

Why, look who's here! Come on up on the porch and git you a chair--that one at yon end. I'll set here on this end and we'll holler at one another. I was just settin here admiring that redbud--it busted into bloom full on yesterday.

You uns doin all right? If you're in need of aught, you know my canning house and freezers is full of food. I always put by more than I need and I always keep a little ahead on other things -- like that commode paper folks has gone so crazy over. And my chickens is laying good.

Oh, this virus thing is worrisome, I'll not deny it. Dor'thy pitched a fit when I told her I was staying right here and I didn't need her comng over-- you know she drops by right often but I told her to stay where she is-- she don't have no business getting out neither. 

I thank you for the offer but Bernice's boy has said he would bring me groceries or everwhat I needed. Aside from a gallon of milk and some chicken feed he brung me the other day, I ain't needed nothing.  

I feel awful bad for those who are out of work and for those poor somebodies without homes--I seen them in Asheville one time when me and Dor'thy was ridin around. And then I feel a little shame-faced at how ordinary-like things is going along for me.

It's something like the Great Depression. Here in our county, folks was already poor and used to making it on what they could raise--there  was plenty what said later times didn't change none for them.

Yes, I know this virus is hitting the old folks the hardest. Reckon at my age I ought to be a-feared. But, honey, I tell you what it is--at my age, I ain't afraid to go. Still, I ain't in no hurry. And I reckon every Spring that I see as a joyful blessing and that makes each flower and blooming tree a special gift.

And every time I see the Spring, it's like in that old song--Lord, spare me over for another year -- to see the redbud bloom again.

Now, More Than Ever

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild, precious life?"

link to Mary Oliver's poem HERE

Catalog Nostalgia

In the mail yesterday: "Our most essential styles for Right Now"

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry so I fixed it.

Take a Deep Breath and Repeat After Me

All shall be well

and all shall be well

and all shall be exceeding well. . .

but it's going to take some time.

Staying Apart -- How's It Going?

How is the pandemic changing your life? 

It's been over a week now since we began the stay in place thing.  John has made a few runs to the grocery and feed store for for essentials -- all of which he was able to find. My weekly class in online now and going pretty well; a workshop I was scheduled for this weekend is cancelled; and John C. Campbell, where I am scheduled to teach in late May is closed for the foreseeable future.

I haven't had Josie since last Wednesday -- I know some of you all are missing pictures of our girl but she's had a cold and her daddy is keeping her home.  He's been rained out of work anyway.  I did bake some cranberry muffins and take them down down.

I've been busy though. Finished yet another read through of CROWS-- this time in the advance reading copy. I found thirteen small goofs and one rather major one. Folks at Regal 

House are proofreading too. I hope we catch them all. 

And I edited the forty pages for my class and am in the midst of editing a novel for an ex-student. Fortunately, it's a good story and I like editing. And this is paying work which is good  since the money I might have made teaching those workshops is in doubt.

I feel a little guilty at how normal -- baking, bird-watching, reading--my life is just now--except for that constant hum of existential fear in the background--worry about friends and family, and the fear that, encouraged by the Orange Disaster, people will cease the social distancing and our hospitals and health care, already on shaky grounds, will be overwhelmed.

But, hey, I'm old and expendable, and maybe a little bitter on learning that Some People are willing to accept a die-off among the elderly if it will boost the economy.

May those Some People (and not the rest of us) reap what they sow. 

Only pandemics don't work that way. Like the rain, the virus will attack the just and the unjust alike. But

'The rain it raineth on the just

And also on the unjust fella'

But chiefly on the just because

The unjust hath the just's umbrella ventilator."