The Burrow

 Everyone will be talking about the debates today.  I wanted you to have something soothing to look at instead.  I'm sure I'll have thoughts to share tomorrow.  But if you are as agitated over the fact that That Man is President of the United States as I imagine I will be after allowing him into my home for more than 30 seconds at a time, then this is for you. Enjoy the beauty of my desert: Feel better?  I hope so.  Give yourself a pat on the back for excellent self-care.

Brenda Starr led a Zoom Editorial Board Endorsement Call on Monday with Senator Martha McSally. For those of you who are taken aback, surprised that our stealth Senator actually showed up and faced constituents, rest assured that I was too. She's declined the last invitation. There were at least 3 screens full of constituents; I was one of the few with live video.  I planned to submit a question and I wanted her to see my face as it was read. I asked her to explain why Universal Background Checks are not a good idea.  It took about 15 seconds before I began to melt down. Eyebrows up as she advocated for merging the various background check lists which exist throughout the bureaucracy, creating a National Watch List.  She voted against exactly such a measure in February, 2017. Such a list would have precluded the legal purchase of a firearm by my shooter.February, 2017.   Rep. McSally  despite sitting in the seat of former Congresswoman Gabrielle G...

Look at the wonderfulness that is the Tucson Quilters Guild: Katherine the Stitch Wizard made a few dozen for Prince Elementary School earlier in the Pandemic.  When she heard that we needed 600 of them (have you ever known a little kid not to lose something?) she didn't quail.  She got to work. There are 100 in each bag. Sitting at home, stewing in my own juices, unable to get out and do , I seethe with frustration.  Then friends of friends step up and make my day and I realize that who I am and who I know doesn't stop at my front door.  I'm on my couch, at my desk, but the tendrils I sent out into the world have brought joy and beauty to those I try to serve.   Reading the teachers' comments on Facebook, where the Guild showcased these photos, warmed the cockles of my heart.  If I can't be there in person (per my doctor and my children's orders) those who I've touched are reaching out and doing the touching. Life is good.  

I can't turn on the news.  I know it's a distraction technique, but the fact that he says he won't leave the White House has put me over the edge. It was the headline in our normally locally focused hometown newspaper.  I couldn't escape it, even over oatmeal and banana.  I couldn't get to the comics and Ask Amy fast enough. It seems to me that early voting on paper ballots is the safest way to avoid Russian tampering with the results.  I think that's why Trump is repeating the lies about fraud and deception - the Russians are at a disadvantage if there is a paper trail.   But it doesn't really matter what he says, because there are only two sets of Americans listening right now - those who love him and those who hate him.  Those who have made up their minds and don't care about the minutiae have tuned out entirely... I have friends who fall in that space.   So his mad ravings serve to fuel the fires of distrust and hate on his side, and to s...

I have three library books on my counter right now - T. Jefferson Parker, Lynda LaPlante, and Marcia Muller.  Yes, I like my mysteries and my (gentle) thrillers and I do favor certain authors.... and I think I may have read one of these books before.....but there's no convenient way to check. Going to the library is a different experience these days.  There's no browsing the stacks, reading the fly leaf to see if the story seems familiar.  Their website has stored my Borrowing History, but it's 987 books long (990 counting today's additions) and unsearchable.   I tried scrolling through; I got to the second page and gave up.  I was spending a lot of time remembering the plots, the twists, the language, the characters. It was fun, but it wasn't getting the job done. When all the books I wanted were available, I got in The UV and followed my next door neighbor to the corner, where she turned right and so did I.... and then we changed lanes and turned and drov...

He's totally absorbed.  Starting with the Tour de France early in the morning, through the talking heads who finally have something to talk about, to basketball and football all evening and through most of the night.   I've read novels.  I've written Get Out The Vote postcards.  I've crocheted a gigantic round afghan, along with several dozen baby hats.  I've spent too much time playing Candy Crush Saga.  I've written letters instead of emails.   I'm next to him on Douglas, without my hearing aids.  My mind is elsewhere, except when his hand reaches out for mine, or his sharp inhale begs for my attention.   I'm with him and I'm without him.   Before Pandemica, I'd have spent the days with friends, doing the things TBG doesn't do.  During Pandemica,  my options are more limited. I'm really glad that TBG can go to his happy places with just a flick of the remote. Really, I am.  Any return to even a sembla...

Eight years ago, we were all together.    G'ma and Auntie M, uncles from Maryland and Colorado. Most of the girl cousins.  Play group and high school, Marin and Bloomington, people who might never have met were sharing stories long into the night. All the stories had the same theme - these are two of the nicest people we've ever known. They are sometimes silly and sometimes ornery but mostly they lead with love, killing with kindness as they move through the world, making it a better place for everyone they touch. I can look out at the backyard and see it clearly, as if the chairs and the people were still there. I see Big Bob and TBG sharing hopes and dreams over cigars.  I see SIR's sister accepting kudos for bringing you together and I hear G'ma asking where she was.... and surmising that it must be a wedding because there was a bride. Yes, she knew you, Little Cuter.  She knew the most important thing about the two of you - that you are surrounded by love, a...

We've lost too many this year, although I seem to say that more frequently as the years go on.  I"ve spent the weekend trying not to cry.  I refuse to allow thoughts of this Senate replacing her to creep into my grief.  They don't deserve a place at this table.   In keeping with the tradition of bringing sweets to the mourners, a reminder of happy times past and those to come, I'm sharing a sweet memory from two years ago : As she grows up, FlapJilly's reading more grown up books.    I Dissent .  the picture book biography of RBG, is part of her permanent night time roster.  We've talked about strength and power and being in charge, whether you are a superhero or a Supreme Court Justice.  She knows that she can grow up and be one, too. That's the background to the joy Little Cuter felt when, on an adventure to Barnes and Opal last Saturday, her daughter took off, flying across the store.  She caught up with her at an end cap.  ...

Yes, my generic for Crestor statin will still be covered by my insurance in 2021.. No, it will no longer be a Tier 1 (read $0 co-pay) drug.  It will now cost $10 a month. No one seems to know why, not Rose at WellCare, not Amy at the doctor's office, not TBG watching sports talking heads.   TBG did remind me that we can afford $120 a year to keep me healthy; we both took a moment to recognize the privilege.   But I am a frugal sort, and the notion of spending money when it isn't necessary bothers me.  Yet I remember how long it took to get my cholesterol under control, and I'm reluctant to change ships when this one is sailing along quite nicely, thank you very much. I feel as though the universe is conspiring against me.   In an effort to take control of the situation, I am changing prescriptions to a similar generic (this one for Lipitor) and will have blood work drawn on December 2nd.   I'll let the facts decide for me, not the insura...

Turns out, I'm depressed.  And that makes me happy. I spent the morning with my soon-to-be-leaving-for-Cali doctor, the woman who was supposed to usher me into old age.  I started with her PA, who weighed me and escorted me to the exam room where she took my blood pressure. I fully expected it to be very high.  It always goes up a little in the doctor's office. It was 128/78. A little bit high, but nothing to worry about.  I laughed and wondered if I should just go right home. When the doctor walked through the door, I opened my arms for a virtual hug; she promised that she felt the love as she asked me how I was doing.  I told her that I was trying hard not to cry.  That I'd been trying hard since March.  That I hadn't hugged my grandkids since January and that no one thought it was a good idea for us to travel to see one another, or risk infecting one another.  We talked about extended families and Covid exposure and young families with kids....

Six years before the start of Pandemica, I began to experiment with meditation.   I was surprised by the power it had, for the longer-than-just-sitting-there effect it had, for the fact that I could calm not only my mental but my physical being. And then I stopped.  The teacher moved closer but at a less convenient time.  Life got in the way.  I gave it up. And now I'm faced with adding one more medication to my pillbox; I see the doctor as you drink your coffee, or think about lunch..   With that in mind, I asked Dr. Google for help and she sent me to Deepak Chopra and Oprah's 21 Day Meditation course.... which, unfortunately for me, has ended. Plunging further into the interwebs, I discovered that there are many ways to access the verbiage.  I don't know if the original course had video, but my eyes were closed so it wouldn't have mattered at all.  I clicked on the first one and settled back into my chair. It was familiar and strange.  It was im...

There are two, or maybe four, hurricanes bearing down on the United States right now.  There have been so many hurricanes this year that I can't keep up, and I'm not the only one.  They are running out of names... and there are still two more months to go before the season ends. The west coast is on fire, and the smoke is causing beautiful sunsets in Washington, D.C. Big Cuter can't open his windows or go outside.  Without air conditioning (remember Mark Twain's coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco ?), with the temperatures unusually high, he's sleeping with ice packs and fans.   Our President is holding indoor, un-masked, un-distanced rallies, even as Bob Woodward's tapes show that he knows Covid is both airborne and a lot more dangerous than the usual flu. And then, as the facts on the ground were explained to him, once again, in one and two syllable words, the President of the United States smirked the way a spoiled brat 14 year old might...

 I have no oomph. I have no thoughts.  I owe you a post, though. Therefore, I submit the following, humiliating myself in service of my unwillingness to think.  Have a wonderful week, denizens.  Try not to think.

You'd be 19 today.   No doubt you'd be taller than I am.   No doubt you'd be doing my little errands because taking care of others was embedded in your soul.   You'd be excited to vote in your first Presidential Election.  I see you registering 1st time voters who become incapable of refusing your entreaties, because you are still a force of nature. I see you treasuring FlapJilly and Giblet as your own little faux niece and nephew, because, in your life,  there were never too many people to love. I ran across a picture of you standing, arms akimbo, staring me down for some long-forgotten reason, at the Reid Park Zoo, on the group tour when you charmed the entire Cornell Club of Southern Arizona with your questions and your enthusiasm.  I laughed through the tears that appeared out of nowhere.  You were a presence, kiddo, an honest to God presence. I carry you with me, in my heart, every day.  You encourage me and annoy me and laugh ...

Big Cuter (and others) are pissed at Bob Woodward for keeping the information DJT revealed a secret until his book was published, but I don't think that would have made a difference.  Those who love him will continue to look at the bright side, those of us on the other side are not surprised. But hearing it in his own voice...... I screamed at the tv, and I haven't done that in a looooong time.   Of course, I haven't let DJT's voice into my house for a long time, either.   Is anyone surprised at Woodward's revelations?  I would like to meet that person.  It seems to me that today, as in every day since I can remember, the news is preaching to the choir. I'm so tired of my silo. I want us all to get on the same page - this can be conquered if we are smart. I have to believe that.  I'll go mad if I let my mind wander to the wilderness of pandemic forever, Trump reelected, schools and teams and mah jongg games on permanent hiatus after a brief flurry...

I'm reading Viet Thanh Nguyen's  The Sympathizer as an e-book.... or at least I'm trying to read it.  Unfortunately, I forgot to plug in the iPad overnight and there wasn't enough juice in its innards to turn on.   I could have read it on Lenore the Lenovo, but it seemed like too much trouble.  It's been that kind of a week. *****  CVS sent me an alert that my prescription was ready and waiting.  Michael's finally had soft pink yarn in stock, thus fulfilling one of FlapJilly's requirements for a winter hat.  My hard cover copy of the latest in James Lee Burke's saga of drink, drama, crime, and passion was ready to be returned from whence it came - the library.  I had a full fledged adventure awaiting me. ***** The yarn was texting me to come and pick it up almost before it texted that the order had been received.  I watched a masked mom and two little ones marching into the store as my masked delivery person placed the bag through the op...

The yard guys arrived early this morning, Monday morning, Labor Day 2020. I apologized for the fact that they were working on Labor Day. "Labor Day?  Doesn't that mean that we should be working?" He was genuinely confused. Smiling, he went on. "We're glad to be working. Does that make it any better, if we're glad to be here?" Yes, it did. Did they always think of Labor Day as the end of summer and nothing more?  Are they glad to be employed when their friends are worrying about making rent?  Were they reacting to the distress on my face and in my voice? It doesn't matter.  We were glad to see one another, and that's all that mattered in Pandemic '01.

 I noticed it in  Pilates on Tuesday morning.  I didn't do anything unusual, but all of a sudden certain movements were quite unpleasant.  The tendon or ligament or nerve that goes over the top of my hip bone was inflamed.  Swollen, warm to the touch, ouchy when compressed.  Sitting up straight became an imperative.  Slouching produced a sharp, hot pain. Yes, pain.  I adhere to the mantra given to me by a marvelous PT in Chicago as I started out on this journey:  Assess the threat value of the sensation.  Akin to adopting a Mindfulness outlook, I notice and appreciate and investigate the feeling.  I don't automatically jump to pain. This was pain.  I took 2 Advil and 1 Bayer and lay on my belly.  I rolled over.  I sat up.  Nothing worked.  I reviewed my activities, such as they were, trying to figure out when I'd done such damage to myself.  I could recall no injury, no incident, no moment of trauma. I ...

I caught the cleaning bug after everyone else had moved on to hobbies.  I spent the first month of Pandemic '01 reading 23 books on my tablet, then I moved on to exercise and gardening.  By the time cleaning cropped up, the house was more than ready for attention. I started with a battery powered rotary brush (with 3 interchangeable heads) to work on the grit and grime in the shower.  I went through a variety of iterations of mopping devices for the tile floors before I came up with a suitable solution (the perfect solution would be for me to feel comfortable having cleaners in the house once again) and secured the necessary accoutrements.   I perfected the proper combination of agents which make my kitchen counters shiny and bright.   Little Cuter found and ordered us the perfect light vacuum that works on tile and carpet and whose battery lasts as long as I do - about 15 minutes.  It's lovely to have an appliance that's exactly as vigorous as I ...

The major heat seems to have left us for a while; there's an ease to the air we breathe when the temperatures are in the 90's and not triple digits for days on end.  Even Not-Kathy had to agree that 97 is remarkably better than 107. ***** Mr. Packrat came today, and left an assessment of the situation for our consideration: an aerial view of the property, with numbered areas of concern.  Some are within the courtyard, some outside the pony wall, and some further out toward the edges of our domain.   Deciding which ones to remove and destroy is presenting a quasi-moral dilemma for me; these are living beings, whose ancestors were here before me and will be here long after I'm gone.  Who am I to decide who shall live and who shall die?   It didn't take long to come up with an answer - I live here and these things are not healthy to have around and so those in immediate proximity to the home and the outdoor spaces we frequent will have to go.  Those...

I have the most wonderful gerontologist.  She listens, she comforts, she snarks when needed.  She gets me, laughing about my normal behavior/incipient insanity, teasing me about Dr. Google's mistaken  On my way to make oatmeal this morning, I opened a piece of snail mail from her practice, assuming it was a reminder to get a flu shot or some other mundane but necessary task. Nope. She's leaving at the end of the year, moving back to California where most of her extended family lives.  Covid informed her decision. Devastated doesn't come close to describing how I feel.  I never did get the oatmeal.   I sat down at the table.  I read the letter a few times.  Respected Patient,  it began.  I sighed; I always felt respected, by the front office staff and the medical professionals behind the doors.  The letter says that no one in the practice is accepting new patients at this time; I'm losing the lobby experience, too. This is makin...