The Burrow

It's my fault. I've been complaining that the news has to focus on Trump tweets because nothing new is happening. Then a policeman knelt on George Floyd's neck. This is not what I had in mind.  I was prepared to read about Disney opening theme parks. I wasn't prepared for policemen calmly watching as their colleague cut off a suspect's air supply.  I thought I was anxious before, as masks began to deepen the separation between us.  But this.... this....

It was too hot to enjoy my walk from the mailbox.  The sun is at that screeching into your eyes like the high pitched whine of a cranky toddler point .  The heat is bouncing off the pavement and scorching my shins.  I bet you don't think much about your shins in the sunshine, do you?  The yellow season is over.  The sweet acacia and the mesquite and then the palo verde have each shed their blossoms, in their own time, on their own schedule, unaware that their presence creates a pandemic situation for the pool filters, which bit the dust because their services were overwhelmed with the task presented.  Skimming the pool is the equivalent of social distancing and wearing a mask.  The system was overwhelmed when steps were not taken; management of the spread protected the patient.  That is a good thing, since the temperatures are predicted to be over 100 for the next few days, precluding any other outdoor activity after 9 o'clock in the morning...

I finished Dana Stabenow's Kate Shugak series and her Liam Campbell series and after 26 books in a row I was left bereft.  I tried to fill the gap with mah jongg on-line, and the mental nimbleness required kept me distracted and stimulated.  But there are so many hours in a day when you're sheltering in place, so many, many hours.  And Scarlet has a life to lead and isn't always available to amuse me.  A  book is a friend you can count on, there when you need it, as long as the devices are powered up. It's not that I needed to rely on the Kindle app, and Amazon Prime's monthly free downloads, and the vast collections available to me on-line from all sorts of libraries all over America.  I have a library filled with the best of what we've collected over our lifetimes - actual, physical, bound books. But I've been staring at those shelves since March.  I've been doing Pilates in that room since March, often distracted by the titles.  But non...

Big Cuter and I have finished the Coursera Covid-19 Contact Tracing  on-line training.  We earned our certificates. The course consisted of modules covering transmission and incubation and isolation, giving us the tools to determine how long someone has been/will be infectious, how long someone should quarantine/isolate, and how to gather the information while respecting privacy/confidentiality.   There was some jargon (the difference between a sign and a symptom) but mostly there were facts.  Big Cuter's suggestion to speed up the teacher's voice made it less time consuming, and, after a while, I fast forwarded so that I could read the verbiage and move on the practice test.   I learned a lot.  I passed the test with a score of 94% (the arcane distinction between rephrasing and reflecting caught me).  I filled out the form to register for my certificate. And then I read this: By checking this box, I acknowledge that I provided my l...

The first iteration of this post appeared in  2009.   ***** I used to march in the Memorial Day parade. I was dressed in my Brownie uniform, and then in my Girl Scout uniform - replete with those embarrassing anklets. I wore them because the troop leader said we couldn't march without them, they were part of our official uniform.  Marching was too cool to pass up.  I wore them and bore the scorn. All the school bands marched too, and the moms on Benjamin Road provided the materials and the labor to make the capes the high school kids wore. There must have been a military presence there, but I didn't pay enough attention to notice. I was marching and I knew that, all over America, other kids were being Americans and marching, too. I belonged. In Marin, the Memorial Day parade was always good for a  controversy  or two. Or three. Should the anti-war protesters walk alphabetically in the main march, or have their own march, or walk 50 yards behi...

Written in 2012, updated as time has passed There's a lot to love about my little girl.  Just ask her husband; he'll be glad to share.  So will her in-laws..... and her brother.... and her co-workers....and I. Watch her childrens' faces when she enters the room and you'll see what I mean. In first grade she came home flummoxed and out of sorts.  The girls in her class had made up a list to take the guess work out of who would get to sit next to Little Cuter at lunch.  Another child might have been flattered; my girl was annoyed.  Why?  What made them think that she was special? She hadn't done anything to merit such attention. And anyway, didn't she have a say in the matter? I smiled, remembering TBG's oft repeated advice on how to be cool -  just act as if you don't care.  Her trick was that she really didn't care.  She didn't keep score.  She was friends with everyone. Nothing had changed by middle school.   "Mom, why ...

It's usually a 1 hour assembly, with group singing and dancing. This afternoon, it was a 1 hour car parade, with signs and balloons and horns and tutus.  Not all the families had cars, so parts of the parade were on foot.  The joy was palpable.  It was bittersweet to see the teachers and staff from a distance. The kids were either delighted or perturbed. It was a valiant attempt to end the year on a happy note. I left when Lilly ran up and hugged her teacher who was standing a respectful more-than-6'-distance from me on my decorated stool. I have promised my children to be extra vigilant. I took my masked self back to my car, across the parking lot, and blew my paper horn in tribute to those who are being lauded by every other commercial, meme, and post - teachers. I hope they stay safe.

Demanding your rights without accepting responsibilities is not freedom.... it's adolescence. I'm considering making a batch of t-shirts with that inscribed above a stronger admonition: Wear a Damn M ask.\ I had to drop two boxes off inside the post office today.  Sister tells tales of  New Jersey's post offices filled with masked marauders; that was certainly not the scene at the Oro Valley post office today.  The sign on the door was clear - PLEASE maintain your distance.   PLEASE Ten (10) patrons inside at one time. Signage is wonderful.  But it only goes so far.  The paper has no power of enforcement, and there was no one around to see to it that the patrons adhered to the  PLEASEs.  Only one other patron was wearing a mask, and she was using a walker and looked like a poster child for Vulnerable Individual.   She and I were surrounded by 15 or so unmasked patrons standing maybe 3 feet from one another in a line that d...

I learned to swim at day camp. I learned about homesickness at sleep away camp. Most of the silly songs my children learned were ones I discovered at summer camps.  Tying a lanyard (in both barrel and box stitch) and learning to eat soupy oatmeal, listening to Taps and sitting around a campfire - I can conjure those memories without any effort at all. And so, when Little Cuter announced the creation of Mom Camp, I opened the floodgates and let it all back in.  I was 6 and I was 10 and I was 16 and I was doing fun stuff in the summertime. It's been a wonderful day.

I bumped my left elbow on the kitchen table yesterday.  It hurts, even with Arnica.  I lean on that elbow when I get out of bed, a fact I discovered this morning.  As TBG said at the end of this trauma, Kiddo, you shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning. Maybe he was right.  Maybe my balloon was just ready to pop.  I went out to run an errand, the same errand I've run every week since March 12th.  I've always been alone on the road, catching up to a car or two at a traffic light or passing one at a stop sign.  But Arizona is opening up, and there were a lot of cars vying for space on the way there, and more on the way back.  It upset me.  Where were they going?  Why were they going?  Half the people in the two stops I made were masked, the others were blithely spreading their smiling germs hither and yon.  Only one person looked askance at my covered face, but, in retrospect, his smile might not have been as snark...

I've been a big fan of Safeway's drive up and go service.  It feels safe and responsible and, after the first few weeks, it has been a timely answer to feeding ourselves.  I used to have to plan 7 days in advance to get an order, then 4 days, and now I can find a slot on the same day. Little Cuter sent me the fixings for strawberry shortcake alongshelt with flowers and blueberries and ciabatta for Mother's Day via Whole Foods.  The supplies arrived an hour after she ordered them. And now I'm wondering about the utility of my entering the stores at all, even when sheltering in place is not required.  I'm not impulse buying that interesting something or other.  I'm not buying a 4th bottle of ketchup because I can't remember if I remembered to resupply the pantry the last time I shopped.  (G'ma used a list; I never remember to bring mine from home.) I do miss selecting my own produce; I know if I want green bananas because I still have 2 ripening at ...

I Listened to the Supreme Court.  My faith in America was restored.  The arguments were reasoned, thoughtful, and Justice Thomas actually spoke. There's no answer yet, so I can smile without adding disappointment to the equation. There's also Judge Emmett Sullivan, who's opening up the criminal case to amicus briefs as he wonders if Flynn perjured himself.  In Judge Sullivan's courtroom, no less. There's still no safe way for me to restart my life, and no one I talk to thinks there is, either.  I don't relish the thought of months without hugging Giblet.  Thanks to FaceTime, at 22 months,  he knows who we are, and no doubt thinks that Grampa and I are every bit as real as Elmo.  We all come into his life via screens. Don't I wish I could reply to FlapJilly's plaintive I wish you could come over and visit  with I'm buying a ticket right now?  I've been sad about that particular matter ever since she said it.... and that was early on, w...

POTUS was impressed with the destructive effects of ultraviolet light on the virus. So, I washed the veggies and put them outside on the pool mat, to soak up some rays. It made me feel a lot better.  It made a nice picture.  And, since the science he referenced spoke of the virus on surfaces, I felt justified in exposing my newly delivered treats to some UV... until it all just seemed a little bit silly.... and everything was dry... so we went inside. ***** Quarantine.... when washing produce produces a post.  Be grateful.  There's another post on soap headed your way.

....and  I didn't want to un-friend him, but it finally became untenable to have him in my space.  We disagreed on everything political and social, but he loved his wife and she loved him, and he was very kind to me whenever we met, and whenever we met it was fraught with so many other pieces that I was only looking for the comfort and solace and not staring too hard at what was inside. And I really want to believe that there is a good person in there, the person I thought I saw when I looked at him, when he hugged me. I dismissed other people's avoidance of him; I didn't see it and they were over-reacting and was that  really enough to run the other way. Well, I'm apologizing to them all, right here and right now.  I guess it just hadn't hit my own particular button.  That all changed last week.  It's taken me his long to get to the keyboard and type; I was running from the intensity of the feelings.  Fury.  Amazement.  Surprise....

I paid attention to the PSA running between Ken Burns' Baseball   which TBG is watching on MLB Network rather than PBS.  Extolling the virtues - and there are many - of the front line workers keeping our country humming while the rest of us shelter in place, the ad featured nurses and firefighters and EMT's and trash collectors. I have thanked the medical professionals I know.  I've sent stay-safe-vibes to the firefighters in my life.  But the trash collectors have been ignored. I am abashed.  Big Cuter was an early rising toddler; 5am and he was ready and raring to go. He would lead me around our city block, climbing on the security railings guarding the basement windows, making faces back at the gargoyles on the buildings' surrounds, and jumping up and down, waving his arms and screeching when the babage tuck came into view.   His joy was contagious.  Commuters and dog walkers and the babage tuck  men themselves shared the smil...

(I liked it when I first wrote it, and I like it this year, too.) You've been a cheetah and a ninja. You've been Robin Hood and Zorro. You've worn capes and baseball caps and a fools cap. For a while, we wore the same size clothes; I'm still happy with your hand-me-downs. You introduced me to  Ender's Game  and George RRRRRRRR Martin and the Old Man's War series. You are always willing to Be A Tall Person, to Do The Heavy Lifting, to explain. How is it possible that you have grown to be a man while I, most certainly, haven't changed a bit?  O  frabjous day ! Callooh! Callay!  Happy Birthday, my Mothers Day bundle of joy.

No, it's not about whether to wear one.  That is a given.  It's how to wear one that's the issue. First of all, wearing this most attractive one Mei-Mei  made for me makes me smile.... which you can't see because my mouth is covered. But the elastic goes behind my ears.... and so do my h earing aids.... and the two are, unfortunately, incompatible.  This would not be a deal breaker, since I usually leave my hearing aids at home when I venture out into the world so that I don't have to disinfect them when I return to my burrow.  But without them, and with everyone I encounter also wearing a mask, I can barely figure out what anyone is telling me. Today, Big Cuter was describing the pull-on tube mask he's expecting in the mail.  Like a neck warmer on the ski slopes, he'll pull it up over his nose and mouth because the environment is not conducive to anything else.  It seemed like a sensible solution so I went to Mr. Google to see what there wa...

I'd like to know that there is a plan.  Big Cuter tells me that the Bay Area is reopening in phases, permitting pets in parks and people with masks to enjoy the great outdoors, gently expanding the definition of safety while watching the numbers. Ah, the numbers.  Without the requisite decrease in cases (whatever that might really mean), without sufficient testing capacity, without anything resembling a sense that we have a handle on the contagion,  Arizona is reopening beauty parlors and restaurants and retail establishments over the next two weeks.  In Indiana, Little Cuter's gigantic indoor mall reopened last weekend; the line was around the parking lots before the doors opened. There's a Darwinian certainty to it all that seemed fairly comical until I listed to Our Commander In Chief.  I say Our because, in case you missed it, you've been enlisted... entrapped... impressed... drafted... drug-in-without-your-say-so.  Private Bone Spurs says w...

I should have planned for it.   It was obviously coming.  I picked up the nightshirt that was on its way to the hamper and threw it over my head last night.  I brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face, and was asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow.  I slept into the 9's. I was hungry, but had no interest in making myself breakfast.  TBG suggested pancakes, and, since Kodiak pancake mix is irresistible, I was up and at the kitchen in a flash.  I heated and stirred and poured and turned and buttered and ate and cleaned and then I was back on the couch.  I had nothing in my hands.  The tv wasn't on (TBG was in the bedroom).  I wasn't even facing outside.  It didn't matter.  I had no energy, no enthusiasm, no oomph. Yes, I was oomph-less. I bailed on Pilates On-Line.  I opened a container of yogurt for lunch, made sure the bills were paid, and went back to the couch.  My Kindle book is okay, ...

I've been paying attention. Really, I have.  I've been skeptical of the numbers, since we were not and are not doing enough testing (even though the President says we have plenty of tests) we have no idea if the rate of infection has slowed, or if there has been a decline in the numbers for 14 straight days. In fact, there are now places where the infection rate is skyrocketing.  Are we getting sicker, or, as more tests become available and we test more people, are we finding that the virus is lurking even if symptoms aren't showing up?  Was this always the case?  We'll never know.  That window has closed. And now, states are opening up.  Gov. Kemp even took it on the chin from his President, but the order is still in place.  Neighboring counties have opened/kept closed their beaches; the lines of demarcation are stark.  Local officials are struggling with keeping the people they know, the ones they see everyday, wearing masks and staying di...

The playground was empty at noon today, the last day of April, a month that vanished without a trace. It made me sad.   I stood outside the silent garden, and smiled at the flowers towering over the wall.  Then, I went inside. This is what the wildflower bed looked like on March 4th, the last time I was at school. This is what I came back to today.  A week before that, on February 25th, the scallion and aloe vera bed looked like this.  The big leaves are borage, just starting to emerge.   There's a real reason to thin your seedlings, as today's version aptly demonstrates: Overgrown is too kind a descriptor.   It's a soft, blue tufted hedge surrounded by scallions as thick as my ring finger. I wanted to give the scholars plants-in-Solo-cups along with their end of year packets. I'm not sure what can be rescued. I know that the kids would have a great time plucking their treasures themselves, wrestling with th...