More thoughts in the time of COVID-19
It just kept raining … off and on … until monday. Enough for me to keep picking the wrong time to do something and then forgetting I needed it done when time passed and weather changed. I’ve seen desks with yellow post-it notes all over. Maybe it’s time for me to get a pad of those.
Oh well …
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Mark is the new Chief of the local fire service unit and he is making some changes. There had been no live-in student firemen at the station for a few months. Then there were two. Then three. Then back to two when one had to be released for having alcohol on County property. Now there are again three.
Mark has been actively working at getting the equipment and the station house up to snuff (does anyone still say that?) including insulation, signage, better sleeping quarters and shower arrangements (so females can apply), and actively working with the local CalFire groups in the area. He has also kept himself aware of and acknowledging achievements by the live-ins. Last friday there was a congratulatory evening meal (mac and cheese, sausages, burgers, scones with lemon curd and whipped cream, brownies, and soft drinks) to honor Andy who had passed all his classes and exams and was awarded his black helmet and his own turn-out gear complete with presentation ceremony and pictures. He has been hired by the CalFire station in McDoel for the coming fire season.
I predict that, as the word concerning the management style at the Hammond Ranch station spreads, Mark will soon have enough applicants for live-in status that he will be able to pick and choose.
Makes me sound a bit like a proud Mom, right?
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The new dog, Gypsy, is adjusting to being part of a family. She had been a one-person dog and now is dealing with five of us. In addition, she is the largest of the three dogs, but is the newcomer and so is the one making adjustments. She has even come upstairs on her own once to visit me. Maybe Siku or Rus told her I keep treats at my desk.
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I’ve read my way through the first seven or eight of the PERN books so far. I’m just starting Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern . The center of this part of the saga is a pandemic caused by an unknown agent which transferred from an untamed animal to people.
“Two have died of whatever it is that afflicts them.”
“Dead? Two? And you don’t know what ailed them?”
“No. I don’t know precisely what ails them. The symptoms — a fever, headache, lack of appetite, the dry hacking cough — are unusually severe and do not respond to any of the commonly effective treatments.”
From page 47 of the First Edition published in 1983 …
Sound familiar?
I’m now at the place in the story where travel and personal spacing is being instituted. Interesting …
And a long story … my children have heard me say (probably more often that they appreciated) “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” I had heard it many, many times from my Nana while I was growing up.
The books I am reading are about a planet where small, flying lizards have been hybridized into large, flying dragons capable of carrying people … hence the titles such as Dragonsong, Dragonflight, Dragon Drums, etc. Then last evening, as I was reading the current book just before I fell asleep, all of a sudden this jumped out at me … “If wishes were dragons, all Pern would ride.”
I wish life had been such that I could have had tea with Ms. McCaffrey one day at her home, DragonHold, outside Dublin. We would have had more to say than just ‘Hello’. I’m sure we heard other, identical sayings from our grandmothers. And we probably would have found we had a lot in common.
Oh well …
If wishes were …
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Last monday, weather turned warm. I got some more work done in the courtyard. Clearing the debris is coming along and the plants are in the ground. Three of the five potatoes I planted are showing growth. One of the transplanted blueberries didn’t make it, but the one in a pot in my room is leafing out beautifully. There are buds on the wild roses, the rugosa, the fence climbers, and even the green. The plums, apricot, sweet cherry, gooseberries, and crabapple all have set fruit.
Then monday afternoon, when it had reached the mid-70s, I opened the east window to get a cross breeze, and the scent of the lilac under that window inundated my room. I remember George standing out next to lilac bushes just inhaling with a slight smile. I teared up a bit, but I was smiling.
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This week’s Amateur Radio Club involvement was doing Net Control for the COVID saturday morning net. Sirius radio was doing the top 100 Beatles cuts, so I was monitoring 440.275 mHz and listening to the Sirius Beatles channel (good music mostly). I’m a Beatles fan of long standing, but let’s face it – not even the Fab Four, all together or separately, can be 100% all the time – such as, I wish George had done the guitar riffs on While My Guitar instead of Clapton.
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Day 75 … and here it is, the end of another week.
Another loss last week, and two birthday remembrances before the next blog.
It’s okay to cry and okay to be sad. It’s okay to miss them and okay to wish you had done somethings different. But never blame yourself for how things turned out. Never tell yourself that this is the end of the road.
It’s okay to fall but never okay to stay down.
Summer approaches (the sun is up and creating crystal rainbows on my walls a few minutes before 0600) and I’m still here.
So … ‘til next week …