More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …
Spring seems to be sprung … everyone slept-in friday morning, Good Friday and no school.
I was reading while sipping my first cuppa when the clock struck the hour. I expected 0700. Actually, it was 0800. The hens were talkative, but not scolding when I got out there.
However, I had a teary moment. The wind in the treetops sounded like gentle surf, and flights of geese were talking about arriving at one of their rest stops on their way north.
Things I will sorely miss …
~~~
Two more old age reminders … there was a ZOOM memorial service last saturday for the woman who lived next door to us in Pomona (we were at 1462 Claremont Place). She was a couple of years younger than me and her son was 2 years younger than my oldest so the families were close until we moved to Northridge.
And friday I learned a long time resident here on Hammond Ranch died in his sleep early last week. My memory of him was often seeing him out on his bicycle on his way to yoga classes or the gym, so I always thought of him as being quite healthy. Hadn’t seen him in a while, but then I don’t get out as much as I used to either. A clear memory is of the times, back when George was keeping bees (which would have been before 1980) when we brought his wife Bonnie up here to let her put her hands into the hive for the stings. She had bad arthritis and bees stings are said to be, if not curative, at least palliative. I thought, at the time, that was sort of like sticking your foot in a fire to treat a headache … foot would hurt so bad you’d forget about the headache.
At any rate … two more from my younger years now gone.
Oh well …
~~~
But I also had a life-affirming invitation. My niece’s older daughter will be Bat Mitzvah at the family’s Temple in LA next year, or via ZOOM, as was her brother’s Bar Mitzvah, depending on COVID.
~~~
Following the end of the WW I books I’d been caught in for the last couple three weeks, by the end of last week my reading took me to Ireland … without any heavy brogue, Harlequin panting, or politics. It was a nice change.
While spending time in that Irish village, I saw a post on Facebook which said to not be shy about writing to an author when something about one of their books catches or touches you. I’ve done that and each time I received a personal response.
One time I wrote to the author of the Pern books to tell her the butterfly tattoo on my back had morphed into a dragon. Her response was a giggle. I still have the letter.
Another time I wrote to Tony Hillerman after getting caught up in his Leaphorn stories. I wondered where I could find hardback copies of some of the early books since all I had for those were paperbacks. In return I got a postcard telling me they were available at a bookstore in Albuquerque. Hillerman gave me the name and address of the store, so I contacted the owner and wound up receiving three personally signed volumes (autographs written in Navajo). I still have all the Hillermans in hardback.
Another time I wrote to a British author who is a King Arthur scholar and whom I had met when I was in Glastonbury. He lives at the foot of Glastonbury Tor, in Dian Fortune’s house, and had demonstrated a “kissing” gate while the tour group I was with was visiting at one of the possible sites for Camelot. Geoffrey and I still correspond sporadically. I’m now 90 and he’s 98.
Parts of the last of the Great War books I read touched me. So maybe I will write to another author. Let the author of the Russell-Holmes books beware.
And speaking of WW I, I learned that in 2001 a memorial was unveiled in England behind which stands a field of crosses, one for each Commonwealth soldier who faced Death at Dawn. A review of the cases had begun in 1997 and in 1998 their names were added to all national War Memorials.
However, no posthumous pardons have been issued.
In addition I will be looking to watch a tv show titled To Serve Them All My Days, a title based (I think) on one of the speeches made by Elizabeth II when she was very young. The series had been suggested by a friend as a result of my blog notes.
~~~
Other signs of Spring …
The appearance of bright red buds all over the red maple.
Some budding on the birches. Of course the catalpa will be delayed another month at least.
Manzanita bushes are turning pink with buds.
Daffodils are pushing up all over the place.
I don’t remember Spring being so attention demanding when I lived in Southern California but it sure makes a statement up here.
~~~
I finally got my COVID vaccination yesterday. I opted for the Johnson & Johnson so that will be it. All the family adults got their shots so in two weeks we’ll be fully protected.
To celebrate, the family went out to dinner at the “Original” Black Bear Diner. Those diners started with a couple of guys here in Mt Shasta and are now a wide-spread franchise. The quality of the food had fallen off a bit before COVID, but the pandemic seems to have pushed them to get back to basics. Our meals were very good. I think I’ve already told you that the breakfast I had there a week or so ago with friends (a two egg ham and cheese omelet with hash browns and sourdough toast) was so big it fed me for lunch/dinner the same evening and breakfast the following morning. Yesterday Kamille had that order for dinner and brought home her breakfast for this morning. I had the Cobb Salad and have leftovers for today’s (and possibly tomorrow’s) lunch.
Both Mark and Paul cleaned their plates.
I did have a giggle when the server asked what kind of dressing I wanted on my salad. When you’re having a Cobb, which includes generous chunks of blue cheese, why would you want anything other than blue cheese dressing?
As you know, I am an advocate for stopping for a meal in Weed at the HiLo when traveling I-5. I now offer a choice of that or the Black Bear in Mt Shasta. Both are easy off-on from the freeway.
~~~
The other excitement for the week was that I’ve been having a bit of trouble with my right knee (popping out of joint occasionally) but without pain. Monday morning it gave me a twinge when I got out of bed. By afternoon I couldn’t put any weight on it. I had to use George’s cane to get around at all and it was painfully slow going.
Tuesday it was some better. Mark had helped me learn how to use the cane and Paul advised I find the position in which it hurt the least and concentrate on keeping my leg in that position. He had just had a similar experience with one of his little fingers. Aren’t kids great?
By evening I was getting the hang of using the cane, but it was still a bit slow. The least painful position is not bent, toes pointing straight forward, and directly under my hip joint … just in case you’re wondering.
This morning I’m following the positioning and my speed is improving. I’ll be checking it out when I next see my primary care giver, but I anticipate the solution will be physical therapy and a knee brace.
~~~
Here to end the week …
The chief beauty about time is that you cannot waste it in advance.
— Arnold Bennett
So ‘til next week …