More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …
Last week began with a bang.
This showed up on Facebook.
This isn’t a joke … Netflix picked Weed as one of the funniest towns in America! Celebrate with us* (from a safe distance) on Wednesday 8/12 from 7 am to 2 pm! Netflix is picking up the tab on all to-go orders! Some limitations apply. Our online ordering will be suspended during this time. Call (530) 938-2904 or stop by to place an order.
(the us* was the HiLo restaurant I’ve told you about)
Since we are not ones to pass up a free meal, I showed up to get in line a bit before 1100 and was turned away. The frazzled young man from NetflixIsAJoke said there was already a line of folks who would be served by 1400 which was his cutoff time for paying. Too bad. Their advertising was not untruthful but was definitely misleading. And they should have realized this is an impoverished community so a lot of folks would welcome a free meal.
Not making the cut was too bad for me and for Netflix since I would have made a great interview … I live in the HIGH Meadow above WEED.
Oh well …
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Then came sunday … outdoor temperature before dawn was 79° with only enough breeze to move the birch leaves. I had left a piece of chocolate on my desk (I get a craving every so often) and it was so soft that when I tried to break off a piece it wrapped itself around my finger. Humidity was low as well. Prime fire weather.
Even with those conditions, there is no room for complaints. Family members in southeast Iowa and Chicago had a killer storm, Lake Michigan is sloshing back and forth like bathtub water, there were lightning caused fires in Pismo Beach, it was 130° in Death Valley, and a lot of California is on fire.
79° with a slight breeze could be worse.
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I have finally joined the ranks of those banned from a Facebook page for being “unkind”. We have a local page where notices of fire and medical calls in the County are noted as they come over first responder pagers. The instant a call is posted, there are women (one in particular who appears to be in constant attendance since her first response is within seconds) who instantly flood the page with comments stating “PRAYING”.
I find it annoying to have to scroll through all the piousness before I can see what is happening in response to an emergency. So I posted a query as to why they were ignoring Jesus’ advice reported in Matthew 6:5&6. For that I was banned for being disruptive and unkind.
Woe is me. Oh well …
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Yesterday was another Tailgate day. I’m in charge of signing folks in and, as usual the last couple of months, there is one man who refuses to wear a mask and is loud and pushy about it. I mouthed back at him this month and he reported me. The person to whom he reported me asked why he wasn’t complying with the Governor’s mandate that masks be worn in public. His response was the usual blather stating he didn’t need to wear a mask because he was safe since we were all wearing masks and ending with he “won’t be told what to do”. My boss responded that this was our event and if he didn’t want to cover his face he could leave.
I wonder what next month will bring.
As I mentioned last month, the variety of produce is down. We had GIANT zucchini this month and huge Armenian cucumbers and corn in the husks and very ripe cantaloupes. We also had cases of peanut butter, both creamy and chunky. I brought home six jars. That should hold the boys for pb&j sandwiches for a time.
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I finally got around to reading the latest issue of the Smithsonian magazine. It is FULL … Bonobos and ancient roads and McCarthy’s defense of Nazi war criminals and virus hunters and ice cream trucks and fire poles.
One article was about the samurai roads which ran between Edo (now called Tokyo) and Kyoto during the “Edo Era” of the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries when Japan was closed to ALL outsiders. Any non-Japanese who dared step outside Nagasaki, which was the only port where foreign ships were allowed until Perry’s invasion, or any Japanese who tried to leave Japan were instantly executed. But for those allowed to travel the roads, it was an essential part of traveling to paint what you saw or to write haiku about what you experienced. Travelers were admonished to travel light with the exception of “ink and brush for drawing and journals for poems”.
This centuries old unsigned haiku (be warned, the syllable count is incorrect in English) triggered recall of my paean to green outside my window a week or so ago …
White clouds,
Green leaves, young leaves,
For miles and miles.
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Are there Sherlock fans reading this blog?
There has been a discussion on Facebook concerning who best portrayed Holmes on tv. I vote … Jeremy Brett !!!
That sudden, short-lived, almost smile …
The what-did-you-just-say look …
The ah-ha moments …
The moves …
The vocal inflections …
Brett didn’t portray Holmes. He became Holmes. George and I watched the first showings on PBS together although George wasn’t a reading fan of Holmes. For us there was never a question … BRETT.
As for the written word … Watson’s tellings, of course.
Then, a couple of years ago I was introduced by a friend to the Mary Russell books written by Laurie R. King, starting with The Beekeeper’s Apprentice. Fantasy mystery … great fun.
As an aside … were you aware that Holmes’ original name in Doyle’s handwritten notes was Sherrinford Hope?
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Morning chicken time is getting later and later (with a bit of morning chill). Seems only a few days ago the hens were calling before 0500 and the sun was up by 0515. Now the time to let them out is after 0645. In past years the requirement was that I get up to pour breakfast juice and go out to the chickens by 0530. Now, with COVID, we time with the sun rather than the clock since Paul will be home schooling and we don’t know what Kamille’s schedule will be. I laze in bed until after 0545 or even 0600.
One of the hens who lays brown eggs has begun laying soft or semi-soft shelled eggs (bottom round end hard with pointy top end soft). Picking up a pliable shelled egg is a real trick.
I think the perpetrator may be the hen with the crooked beak, the one we call Picasso. I have been adding dried and broken egg shells to their feed for the calcium and I may need to crush the shells smaller for her. Otherwise, she seems to have done well with her x-shaped beak.
A lesson in succeeding in the face of challenge.
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Part of getting older is sifting through all the projects you intended to finish one day. Well … the days are dwindling down to a precious few and I’ve been sorting.
I have my Nana’s OLD! dome-topped travel trunk which I am unable to let go (it came west with her from Kansas in 1885). It was full of unspun fiber and lots and lots of handspun yarn in a broad array of luscious colours. My granddaughter is a knitter with a capital K. So guess who will be receiving boxes. Three boxes went into the mail yesterday. There are two more boxes of some commercial 4-ply as well as more handspun waiting to be sent. This should keep her knitting well into 2021.
And I still have enough fiber and yarn in the cedar chest to keep me busy for months.
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The constant news items about masks left me thinking about the pros and cons of mask wearing. One con no one has mentioned (at least if they have, I failed to see it) is the inability to see smiles under masks. I miss seeing smiles. I guess I’ll have to learn how to identify a smile by eyes.
I’ve begun telling folks when I’m smiling at them. I don’t know if it does anything for them, but it does make me feel a bit better.
On that thought …
None is so rich or mighty that they can get along without smiles, and none so poor but they can be made rich by them.
Smiles cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen for it is something that is of no value until it is given away.
When you see someone too tired or depressed to give you a smile, give them one of yours. No one needs a smile so much as he who has none to give.
So … ‘til next week …