The Burrow

We are off to collect our holiday present from Big Cuter and Queen T - a weekend of food and fun surrounding tickets to the NCAA's March Madness Elite Eight game on Saturday. We know what seats we have.  We don't know what time the game will begin.  And, since you have to win on Thursday to play on Saturday, and Thursday is tomorrow, we don't know who we'll be seeing.  It could be Duke and Gonzaga, which would be very cool.  Arkansas vs Texas Tech.... not so much.  The uncertainty is compounded by the fact that Arizona is in the South bracket, playing in San Antonio, and the game we are seeing in San Francisco is the West bracket.  It is possible that Arizona could be playing at the same time as what we will be seeing.... a fate too awful to contemplate.  We are hopeful that wiser minds prevail, and the television and advertising and NCAA gurus recognize that they can extend their audience by showing the games one after the other. At this time, there i...

TBG misses his spin class friends.  Some of them have joined the Zoom classes which began early in Pandemica, when it became clear that no one was going back into the gym any time soon.  We bought a good spin bike, and he's been doing it three days a week, virtually listening to the teacher and the music and feeling as motivated as you can be when you're really all alone. He misses the competition.  Keeping up with the instructor is one piece of it, but beating whoever is cycling near him has its place, too.   Periodically, we've toyed with the idea of returning to the gym.  He went once or twice before the Delta variant emerged as a killer; he knew the people in the room and it felt safe.  But there hasn't felt like a good time to start up again.... until now. We're boosted and flu shot.  We're not living with immune compromised or unable-to-be-vaccinated humans.  One of our favorite people teaches spin early on Monday morning.  He deci...

Scarlet's dog needs surgery.  I'll spare you the details, but the best surgeon for her is in Scottsdale.  Scarlet made an appointment and immediately texted me. Until she moved to Florida to help her ailing, aging mother, Scarlet had lived in a Manhattan apartment for 40 years.  She (like most denizens of The City) walked to most destinations, taking a cab home if it was dark or she was tired.  A car in Manhattan is a luxury reserved for the very rich (or those with elderly parents just outside the reach of public transportation).   She drove when visiting her parents in Florida, but being behind the wheel is not her favorite place to be.  Scottsdale is 120 miles away; 99% of her trip would be on the highway.  It's mostly 2, recently paved, lanes separated by a wide, grassy ditch.  The speed limit is 75, but that's more of a suggestion than an imperative.   Hence, her text - was I free for a road trip on Thursday?   She ha...

I never paid attention to this event before.    But I go nowhere and see no one and now any splash of color (that's not sports) catches my eye.  Especially when my first view is of Amanda Gorman Us Weekly There were a lot of crystals.  There were lots of nearly naked women and if there were any nearly naked men I couldn't find a picture to share.  I'm not sure how this is okay. I know nothing about the event itself.  I have no interest in knowing any more.  It's enough that I spent some delightful minutes watching videos of people I didn't know smiling/grimacing/turning this way and that on the red carpet.  I browsed  Vogue's coverage  for a while, realizing that I knew very few of the celebrities.... and that I didn't care. It was pretty and superficial and I didn't care about that, either.  I was amused in a novel fashion for a while and that, in Pandemica 2.0, is, apparently, enough. (Have I mentioned that being a considerate mem...

As Linda pointed out in her comment to Friday's post,  it's too bad money can't buy common sense.  Upon a deeper dive into the school funding issue, it seems that this applies, oh, most definitely applies, to Governor Ducey. Let me explain. The Governor's decision to withhold federal Rescue Plan money from any school district with a mask mandate may come to bite him in the ass.  It's $1800 per student - a sizeable chunk of change in any district's budget.  Unfortunately for Governor Ice Cream, these funds cannot be released to districts which receive other Federal aid programs, like all those available to lower income demographics.  So my District and all the other school districts serving those at the bottom of the economic pile are losing nothing by doing the one thing the experts say can mitigate the transmission of COVID 19 - mask mandates.  And which Districts stand to lose all those Federal dollars our Incompetent in Chief won't give them if they, too...

We ran an errand where both of us went into the store at the same time (masked, of course). We got lunch at a drive through window and ate in the car, under a tree in the parking lot. We got a curbside pickup of groceries. We came home. This is not the way a rainy Tuesday should be spent.  I can't feel safe going inside a restaurant because people refuse to get vaccinated.  I can't stroll comfortably with my husband, because after a few minutes he starts to feel claustrophobic beneath his mask, and mask we must, because we don't know who is unsafe. This is backwards.  It's not fair.  We did everything right and now we are punished and forced to stay home because others refuse to believe the science.  They are running around, merrily infecting themselves and others, and I don't want to be one of their others.   I think they should stay home, or at least away from indoor spaces and crowded outdoor venues, and the rest of us should have free reign over th...

Yesterday's post poked a bubble I've been bobbling for a while.  Carole said that since Covid, nothing seems urgent any more.  There are appointments to keep, but tasks and errands and much of what used to pass for everyday life is less pressing. I really ought to go into the studio and resume my thrice weekly Pilates membership.  I'm marginally resistant because of the transmissibility of the Delta variant and my desire to visit the grandkids next month, but mostly I'm feeling okay with swimming every day and the Pilates Diva's Thursday morning studio session and push ups........ none of which impose themselves on my calendar. (except the Pilates Diva - but she's more of a gift than an assignment). My empty calendar brings me great joy.   I am surprised when things pop up. Unless I'm listening for my phone to beep and remind me that I have an event scheduled,  my participation in the random Zoom event cannot be counted upon.  I'm always sorry to miss ...

They've been friends for years... 14 of them, to be precise. Their friendship survived one couple's moving a short distance away; it may not survive MAGA. They have vacationed together and spent every holiday together, sharing the photos on Facebook.  Four grownups in the same neighborhood, four adults who enjoyed spending time with one another, four fast friends.  Avoiding politics wasn't easy, but the friendship seemed worth the discomfort.  After all, there aren't many people who will gladly spend a weekend helping you move your mother from independent living to assisted living, sharing hugs as well as the heavy lifting. They understood one another.  They've watched their children grow and prosper. Their relationship was a bulwark, something on which they all could rely. Then came Pandemica, spiced with a touch of MAGA.  No one was visiting anyone, not in person, anyway.  It was easier to keep the conversations neutral .... until a wedding invitation arr...

While not many are wearing masks, everyone in Indiana seems to intuitively understand the concept of social distancing.  Shoppers stay respectfully away in the produce aisle.  Doors are held for me while standing as far from the opening as possible.  Park goers ask permission before they take the next swing. That wasn't the case when friends ventured out to a Marriott property in Northern California.   They'd been secluded for all of Pandemica.  She's immunocompromised and was unwilling to take any chances.  But there was a new baby and family they hadn't seen so he researched the policies of the various hotel chains and determined that Marriott, his usual choice, seemed the safest. He was sad to discover that reality was far from the ideal. In order to access the elevators, they had to cross the lobby.  That's the case in most hotels - you walk in the front door and cross to the reception desk, then waltz across the lobby to the elevators.  My fr...

Yes, it's true - I am too excited to compose coherent thoughts.   TBG and I leave tomorrow to hug our daughter and her family for the first time in 18 months.  We're seasoned post-Pandemica travelers, having flown last month for Big Cuter's wedding, so the airport scene and the whole flying thing aren't terrifying.  They are annoying, since we'll have to be masked throughout, but that's all. We'll arrive after the littles are asleep, but we've been promised a rousing GOOD MORNING!!!!  Like FlapJilly told her mother, I'm too excited to sit or lie down or stand up - it kind of hurts inside. And so, to spare you any more blather and drivel, I'll counter the cicada stories from back east (climbing on legs, landing in hair, too noisy to bear) with this wildlife scene from my courtyard right now: This little fella was under the window, having dinner, for quite a while. Then, he hopped over to the fence to see what the mourning dove was look...

I thought I'd have a better handle on the day to day. I thought that being able to go out and about would help me hold onto the days and the months. I've long ago given up remembering the date; once I've paid the bills on or around the 29th of the month, I'm clueless.  When we weren't going anywhere it didn't matter if it was Tuesday or Sunday.  TBG took care of the television, but we weren't watching anything in particular on any day in particular so that didn't help, either. But now I have an appointment every Thursday morning with the Pilates diva.  I have to stay more connected; I slept through one session already.   The fact is, I'm not trying that hard to know.  I find myself missing the endless flow of one day into another, with only our meals to break the routine.   This having things to do and places to go and people to see stuff is hard.

I can easily locate the appropriate cleaning supplies in the appropriate room with the appropriate amount of searching- which is none, because each is in the first place I look, because that's how I decided where to put them.   That happened during Pandemica, when I was cleaning out of boredom.  Now that life is on its way to normal, I find that I am impressed by the convenience, and wondering why I haven't done the rest of my house the same way.  It feels like a gift from the Pandemic.   But there are things that I lost during Pandemica, and each one makes me smile. I have no idea how to pack to visit Little Cuter's family.  I know that I have clothes there.  What they are is a hazy recollection of some favorite pieces and then lots of nothing.  And then there's the issue of size.  There is more of me than there was in late 2019 - not much, but more than pants with snaps have encountered recently.   I've decided that it's a go...

The Post Office sign  recommends  that I wear a mask inside.  I glanced through the glass door, saw the masked man on the other side, and slip my face covering on.  All the patrons were masked, as were the employees. The tellers in the bank, and the associates in their offices, were all masked, as was I.  Their sign is pretty straightforward : Put Your Mask ON before you come into the lobby. Knowing that they were required, I masked up after gathering my cart and myself together at Albertsons.  I bought a red bell pepper and two apples.  I was in the store for less than 5 minutes.   Even before my vaccine that visit wouldn't have set off any alarm bells.  So I wondered what it would fell like to be mask-less in my grocery store, to be able to hear what others were saying, and to have them hear me.   I have a loud voice.  It carries.  Until Pandemica no one ever asked me to speak louder.  Unmasked, I'd be able to ...

Friday Whole Foods is no longer sanitizing cartsw, but is requiring masks inside the store.  Approaching the plexiglass encased staff temperature check booth while putting on my mask, I motioned to the 20-something chatting away on her cell phone without a mask in sight.   I guess we're not taking this mask thing very seriously any more, eh? He laughed. Baskin Robbins requires masks, too, even though the worker bees and I were all vaccinated.  Two young women came in at the end of our conversation, and one volunteered that she was vaccinated too.  Her friend made non-committal hand gestures while nodding. Then we should all be comfortable taking off our masks, right?   We all agreed, but kept ourselves asked, anyway. Saturday Albertsons is still sanitizing carts, but the outdoor workers don't have to be masked.  Inside, once again, face coverings were required and I complied, seething under cloth I really didn't need to wear. Saturday night we dro...

It takes practice.  I have not had enough. Just today,  I stopped by Grandma's Garden to water the newly planted baskets without wearing my mask.  I entered through the back gate, thus missing the signs on the front door reminding me that We Wear Masks at Prince .  There were no scholars on the playground or in the garden with me.  I turned on the hose and was gently sprinkling the baskets when a timid voice said Hi, Grandma Suzi. I turned, I smiled, and I quailed.  The child was at the gate.  My mask was in my car.  I explained why she couldn't come in, repeated it to the younger boy who came a minute or so later, and got out of there as soon as my task was done.   I sat in traffic going across town to Scarlet's house for mah jongg.  I sat in traffic coming home to swim with TBG a couple of hours later.  Heavy traffic around lunch time was not unusual in the Before Times.  When I ventured out a year ago,  I was struc...

When the kids moved 45 seconds away from SIR's parents, I worried that it would be difficult to create the kind of bond that proximity breeds.  It's the little things, I thought.  The ring pop Papa brings every time he drops in, Maga's store of crafts and tea sets..... how could I compete with that? It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.  I wrote letters and sent presents and we would, every once in a while, try a video chat.  TBG and I visited as often as we could without feeling like an invading horde.  It was fine; we made our own memories and they were powerful and wonderful. Then Pandemica hit.  Instead of flying to visit last March, FlapJilly and I spent an hour or two every day or so, drawing and reading and talking on Zoom while Mom and Dad tried to work and care for a toddler.  As things sorted themselves out, and the family returned to some semblance of order, we'd settled into a lovely routine - dinner with the grandkids, brought to us ...

(This follows a piece of yesterday's post .  Reading that will fill in any gaps.) All the relevant parties being vaccinated and on vacation and available for hugging, it was time to buy tickets to see our grandchildren.   My excitement was tempered with the overwhelming number of choices and decisions to be made.  Which airline?  Which airport?  Which days?   I gathered my thoughts and my phone as TBG watched the NFL Draft, hour number nine zillion and twelve, and failed dramatically to purchase round trip airfare on Allegiant.   Yesterday's post was written before I rewarded myself by opening the tabs and choosing flights and dates and seats and once again being rejected. After the third time the laptop reset itself to the box for my email and refused to accept the reservation, I began to take things personally.  The Live Chat Now  told me it was my devices' faults and not their system at all.  Sometimes people have to clear ...

My cell phone rang today.  Twice.   It hasn't rung twice in one day since Pandemica began.  Texts come through on a regular basis, emails pop up and are quickly answered, but a ringing phone that demands to be spoken to was a rarity.   The first call was from my Cousin Ilene; we don't speak often enough.  The second call was from a Phoenix area code; I picked it up with trepidation.  Usually, the 602 calls are from Amy from Health Care Services reminding you....  I've never heard more than that, hanging up before I scream futiley at a recorded message.  This call was from a name I recognized.... but couldn't immediately place..... though she identified herself with the expectation clear in her voice that I would know who she was.   Awkward.... until I decided to laugh at myself, concede my faux pas, and move on, promising to attach her name to the phone number now living in my contacts.   ***** We're planning a trip t...

And they make me happier, too.   TBG made us breakfast and I read the Sunday paper all the way through.  I spent some time thinking about my granddaughter, who really enjoyed the clipping I sent her extolling the praises of Nandi, the Tucson zoo's elephant who is also 6 years old.  She really liked the paper; she'd never seen anything like it.  My daughter had to explain the concept of newsprint and the newspaper to a true child of the 21st century.   Then, I took the UV to the post office, mailed the current installment of FlapJilly and TBG's games of tic-tac-toe (with notes to one another) and drove to Michaels.   The store used to be on the way home from the post office, if I made a loop with more traffic lights.  TBG drove me to curbside pickup one week; the next week the website said Temporarily Closed.  The newspaper announced the opening of a brand new Michael's in the shopping center that's on the way home if I make a bigger...

I can list all all the causes for my angst -     The lady who sneezed - maskless - over the vegetables at Albertsons yesterday afternoon.     Taxes are due.     We're traveling to Big Cuter's wedding next week - airplanes, hotels, restaurants......     My irrigation is refusing to water two of my vulnerable roses.     There's an HOA meeting next door at Fast Eddie's house and I wanna stay home and Zoom.     The pool filter conked out after absorbing more than its weight in detritus; we haven't swum in 3 days.     The trilogy about Henry the VIII I'm reading is pointing out the lapses in my knowledge of        history.     Those are the facts.  The results are a stomach jumping around, a head that refuses to settle on one thought for more than 5 seconds, and hands that are shaking when they aren't otherwise occupied. My blood pressure was super high at the dentist's office this m...