When did I get radicalized? Heretofore I was about the same as most Americans. I had a job – important, I thought. I went about medical care and left the politics to the career politicians who had (our??) welfare in mind. There were checks and balances to keep the branches of government and even political parties from doing outrageous things. I poll my Republican friends – there are a few, not too many. And I poll the family. Most of them work, which means they have jobs and families. Politics are in their rearview mirror. One unnamed defended her lack of interest, “Hey! We voted!” as though that act alone compensated for ignoring the events going on around us. It was not enough! And, at that point, I realized I/we were radicalized. I have lived with a liberal bent spouse (two) forever. Influenced (good or bad)? Am I the only one to see the forest for the trees? We do not know the future and how this will go. It will all blow over, right? Or, blow up? Don’t lose sleep. And, don’t be afraid. Ignore it, it will all be over soon…
It’s come to this. Living room.
noun: a room in a house for general and informal everyday use.
“the apartment has a comfy living room with sofas, chairs, TV, and dining table”
Looms. Spinning wheels. Etc. The room has no room to turn around. We have a studio… for looms, and, it’s full. And, the bedroom? My bed has a loom. And, a cat. I guess we’re sleeping out tonight.
I had hoped my two a day posts would quietly stop. TMI. Alas, the news keeps coming. Our president runs his daily reality show. The day before he was shutting down Twitter. Now….?
The TV series on Grant just concluded. It was the Civil War. I didn’t fully realize how difficult reconstruction had been until looking at (the series) it again. The war never ended. Johnson succeeded Lincoln (REPUBLICAN), who was assassinated. Grant followed. Mistakes were made. The confederate flag flies on lawns in my neighborhood. There are those who never got over the war. They never accepted terms of defeat. We sang Dixie in elementary school. I thought it was a nice song. Little did I know, until I experienced racism personally. It’s not been often. I was in “charmed” territory. Painfully, I admit white supremacy is all around. Trump will be remembered for leading racism in America. Dark times are here. Reality TV, the path to re-election?
Dumplings. My mother thought of this alternative. Smart lady. Biscuits. A lot of Chinese cooking adapted to what ingredients were available in the market. This is a neat trick. The biscuit will rise when steamed. Fill it. Done. And good! I don’t work with a recipe. Have I ever? You may imagine any filling. I have my own. Colleen loved them.
In this time of corona, school was cut short this year. The classroom sessions ended early, sometime in March. Colleen and I met in third grade. We both went thru classes to the last day of that school year, May 27. That was a couple days back. I can recall the exact day and year because it was my brother’s birthday. And, who would have thought that history would get us together so many decades later. We orbited, separately, living full lives for so many decades before finding each other once again. That’s pretty amazing to me. There were a lot of moving parts that fortuitously fell into place for this to happen. We did sit in this very style of school desk. They seem to have gotten smaller over the years.
Since I retired I have taken up spinning; yes, as in “Rapunzel.” I have begun basket making; yes, as in that “throw away/easy ‘A’ class in pre-med in college. I doubt my college ever offered basket making. And I apologize to all who make baskets. Indeed, there is a range of people of extraordinary skill down to amateurs (like me). But, on occasion, I can crank out something visually captivating. Mistakes? You bet! To the viewer’s eye, not so fast. It’s picky to look for mistakes. It’s equally hard for me not to see my own (mistakes). Colleen weaves (gifts). At this pace it’s gonna be hard to find display space, alas, (gifts too).
Twitter. A leader leads. Others follow. Where is our leader? Making up shit. 100, 000 thousand people are dead from corona. We could use leadership. Has he made any statement of worth in helping to stem the pandemic? His statements and tweets keep getting uncovered by history as lies. Each day, it’s a reality show of tweets. I’ve said it before, I’m not the first, “The emperor has no clothes!”
Thermal insulated. Lightweight. This stuff is as good as “sliced bread.” What? It’s blown glass – yes, there is a “blown” mark. The air insulation keeps the glass from transmitting heat or cold. Your coffee stays hot and your lemonade ice cubes don’t melt. Too good to be true. Colleen loved them and I got them – for her (how could I deny her…). I tried one. Oh boy! Light bulb! As in all things I overdid as you can readily see our cabinet with an assortment. Hey! That’s quite an assortment of tea sitting up there too. Good stuff.
Turn! Turn! Turn!The Byrds
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep….
Count your blessing. In this time of corona, I am humbled by the beauty of nature. I am blessed to be in it and away from the utter chaos, horror, and sorrow in the world right now. Someone, somewhere decided, I have done my part. I am apart from this fray. I never walked away from danger in the past. … count my blessings. Turn…
This one goes back to when Jules was a newborn. A lot has happened in the decades. Happy Birthday Eric. As the years pass, old photos (slides) become more precious. Change? No mustache and a pony tail – Eric, not Jules.
Nantucket basket. They appeal. There’s a certain geometric architectural preciseness about them. I’m not there yet. And, I’m experimenting. I never met a rule I didn’t try to break. So, my baskets will be uniquely me. I’m not ready for prime time. Real crafted Nantucket baskets are expensive. And the Chinese made ones are mere dollars. Mass produce for cheap labor, but don’t denigrate the quality. It’s good. But the whole industry suffers for cheap product no matter how well made. Meanwhile, my second basket has a pattern. I’m totally lost as far as making and designing a pattern. It’s my first solo without instruction. Hey! Raw material to product, it’s quite a career change for me.
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind but now I see…..
Look it up… our fearless leader is golfing.
Me? I photograph. Even if I am sheltering in place, I’m still photographing. There was an article on not sharing your camera – germs. Ha! The cats? No one else would use my stuff. It’s like toothbrushes. Not really, but, it’s akin to my sitting down to loom (weave) on Colleen’s devices. Once upon a time I said that about spinning…. Rainy days bring out color saturation. Out of the box the image of forsythia can easily be enhanced. I chose to show you what the camera gave me. There are lots of cat portraits. I shoot the cats because they are available, though not necessarily willing. And, when you get it (a good shot) you know it. There are just so many good ones and so few posts.
“But take it from me, Georgia: cheating only hurts you in the long run. Yeah. When I was in school, I forged straight A’s on my biology report card instead of studying, and to this day, I still don’t know where my labia is.” — TREVOR NOAH
What makes you laugh these days? I smile but haven’t had a good laugh in quite some time. I laughed. You would have to know the context and the news in order to be in on this joke. Georgia made a graph of the corona virus cases diminishing in the Peach State over a period of the last few weeks. The idiots forgot and put the dates on the graph. The dates were out of order. No, not eating dates; it was the days of the month. If you are not following me, then you missed the joke. And, you also missed the fact that tomorrow never comes. It’s always today. … and labia would be plural. Did I mean horror, not humor?
What to do on a rainy day and with no where you can go? Hey? Have you considered all the gas and money? We’re spending no money at home. And we’re not driving, so, no gas consumption. It’s good, right? Colleen set up her loom. This one was a trade-out. She swapped looms with a woman. Neither (woman) liked theirs (loom, not husband, silly). It’s been a while (months). It just takes time to set up. It would help if we could find the manual. But… at last, product! It’s placemats. Colleen likes table linen. We have a lot of placemats. So, alas, gifts – it seems I never get to keep the gorgeous product around to show off her skills. Someone is gonna be a very pleased recipient.
Why? Why would a newspaper lie to me? Do they really lie all the time. I don’t get it. Or, are they telling us truth? Just like firing the IG – inspector general – it’s all about transparency and truth, right? Oh! Now, we’re asking too many questions.
Trust me, I’m a doctor. Once upon a time that was a popular phrase. And politicians had about as much trust as lawyers. I think politicians were one down from next to last. I read that our fearless leader has access to the best information and doesn’t have the intelligence of a gnat himself or that big pharma has business ties to the very vaccine being developed to save us all, and, I am afraid. Very afraid! Maybe I should read the National Enquirer instead. Come to think of it I haven’t seen it lately. Of course, I keep telling myself 40 million Republicans couldn’t be all wrong. Is there any good fake news? The Times keeps reporting about dead people. When you are dead, you are dead. That is fact. I wish it weren’t so.
Let’s play – Follow the leader – and jump off the Brooklyn bridge. You first. See ya.
100,000 dead, one hundred thousand dead, is a whole lot of dead people. Maybe the number is wrong? But, it’s still a whole lot more than one dead. There are a lot of dead people even if someone’s lyin’ to me.
I remember our lyin’ President saying no one would die and then, he told me it would be over before 50,000 dead. Tell me more facts please. Or, two lies make the truth like it was said that, two wrongs don’t make a right?
Dawn. I’ve posted jet trails before. I’ve shot them a few times. Interesting. People traveling to and fro. From my vantage they are headed east west. We are a flyover zone. People are not staying, just going. It’s eerie. We are on lockdown – corona. It’s a bit scary that the planes are flying and potentially carrying corona with them. But, folks still gotta get around. We haven’t been out of the house in a few days since groceries last week. So far so good. (as of this writing two months ago) It’s also bittersweet. Had we no virus, we would be just about completing a second trip to Scotland now. Alas, plans were rewritten. I wonder how the past shall be. As Dave asked once long ago, “Dad, when is tomorrow?”
In the midst of crisis we took the opportunity to social distance on our bikes. Folks were out and about tending to their own business. We took in the neighborhood and the flowers. Home, we took advantage of our imported Scotch (yes, all the way from Scotland). Ok, I don’t drink (alcohol) so we made our version of Bailey’s, mixing “good” Scotch with egg nog. Yes, Xmas egg nog preserved and unopened… til now. I spent the rest of the afternoon in an alcohol induced coma.
A run: as in trip; errand; mission. We were on a typical run – over the strenuous objection of Colleen. We needed things. Don’t we all? Plants and planters…. and so forth. Groceries! Man’s gotta eat. Colleen is very fond of eating. (Shhh! I didn’t say that.) So, masks. I never miss a photo op. Flowers. Color combos. It’s challenging to take a pic in the blowing wind. You contend with motion blur. Not enough blur to be interesting, it’s more like a bad photo blur. We were out and about during corona and hopefully it was a successful run.
The good news? You have a 90%+ survival rate if you get corona. And the death rate is less than 10%. That’s very good! Good math! Go out an’ hug someone. Somehow, I think I will pass on hugging, for now.
I’m about two months ahead – my post today was composed March 21. So, by now, the world has changed. Corona. Gripping. Colleen has been consumed. Me too. I hope you made it through. To the many and few readers, I hope you are all safe. I wonder whether I/we shall be too? This one is the apocalypse. I have been through events in my lifetime – Kennedy assassination to 9/11 and more. This time we are part of the news no matter where we have sheltered. I wonder to see how this has all changed two months from now. From where I sit there’s no good news today. Two months on?
On the left is the line in which our fearless leaders would have you panic. On the right are the words of adults in the room handing out the facts. The left provides cover and a path to re-election. There is no path to light and no assurance of our leaders doing more than covering their own asses. Is it me? I am bewildered by the numbers of people who still believe the propaganda. Who’s drinking the cool-aid? Is it me? We have lost our standing in the world. We are a joke to threaten to defund the WHO and blame China. There is no comfort in reality TV. Is it me? We are fast approaching the time when we will have the opportunity to have a real leader.
“Have you stopped beating your wife?” Yes, or, no? Somehow, the headline on the left is blaming me for the economy. You are the leaders, don’t blame me.
Summer market, famer’s market, teeming with people out to get fresh produce or a good meal. Ya gotta love the kids. There’s nothing better than a hot ear of corn on the cob! And beer? We settled in at BBQ joint and Colleen got a flight (of beer). San Luis Obispo was such an exotic faraway city when I first came across the name back in the early ‘70’s while working in a publishing house. My niece later married here. And now, Colleen and I have dined. I never actually thought I’d ever be here. Funny how life intersects with my reality.
Life with corona is different. Patch had a vet appointment. He needed blood drawn. First, he hates the car. And he promptly emptied his bladder while he was in the car. Great! He peed! We were prepared. He’s done it before. That’s not different. What is? This was a contactless visit to the vet. Someone came and took the crate and returned it after Patch was examined and tested. Colleen paid the bill over her cellphone via credit card. The bad news? I never knew what it cost for vet visits. Cash! It’s robbery. No wonder Colleen always handled payments without me knowing anything. And I was glad to be fat, dumb, and happy… till now. Don’t laugh, I never knew what school tuition was for either of my kids. Patch? He needed this visit. His feelings are clear enough. I think I just got the “evil eye.”