Posing

 On our walk yesterday this bird posed for me. It was quite close and didn't move while I took first one shot (above) and then another.

I feel like, right now, that I am posing, too. I'm posing as someone who is not completely unhinged by the chaos of vaccinations in Texas (and elsewhere). I'm posing as someone who really wants to entertain the other homebound oldies with pictures like these on Facebook. I'm posing as someone who can just be thankful that we have enough to eat and comfortable surroundings and plenty of money even though we will possibly never get to go out and dine with a gaggle of friends safely or travel and wander without fear. 

It's a pose. Today the mask (not that mask, it was firmly on my face for every second I was outside the apartment) slipped. I was a bit angry at all the know-it-alls even when I shouldn't have been. And I was mad that people much younger than I and in good health were getting randomly vaccinated. I was mad that people older than I am felt comfortable doing international travel. I was mad that it had only been one day since someone in our high rise building was admitted to have tested positive. I was beyond furious at politicians trying to overturn the democratic process and promoting violence. Of course, no one but this blog and my husband saw this slip down the anger tunnel, because we aren't around others that much. Oh, I might have been a little sharp on Facebook in some comments. As one does.

I pledge, resolve and really, really mean to...

 

It's that time of year when people (other people mostly) usually make resolutions. [The picture above has virtually nothing to do with resolutions unless I made one to get organized about holiday cards. Which I have never done.] Oh, I've done it. Done it to death in prior years. Way back in the early days of this strange time, I even made a plague pledge:

• I will drastically limit my own contacts as well as limit asking others to make contacts on my behalf if they'd otherwise be sheltering or not coming to our building.
• I will use my supplies sparingly so I don't have to ask friends to search for (or share from hoards) TP or wipes or certain food items.
• I will not share unverified information on social media or bother to rant about the performance of leaders.
• I will not put judgmental posts up about others' behavior in doing excessive errands, shopping, sightseeing, and so forth. I will not point out obvious hoarding. Know that I am seeing this. As are others.
• I will quit complaining about the construction crews working I can see from my perch. But I see it and if there is evidence that it prolongs the outbreak...well, I don't know.
• I will be thankful for people adding some shopping for us to an errand they were already doing, reducing vectors somewhat. So far, we are relying on people in our own building and one on our own floor. Do the vector geometry.
• I will limit my orders that require others to enter our lobby but be thankful for Amazon and Austin Wine Merchant and Fixe having allowed us to get some things.
• I will realize how privileged Forrest and I are in this crisis and try to help people left vulnerable by the loss of jobs, health, loved ones, and mental health.
• I will try to stay healthy and not fall down doing laps around the apartment or climbing my ladder to get something so that I can avoid overwhelmed healthcare for a non-COVID-19 reason.

I must say that I have stayed pretty close to these promises. We have gotten a lot of packages delivered, I guess, but less than some people. As time went by the people in our building who were doing in-person shopping and bringing us stuff have gone by the by. (One got the virus and after hospitalization and recovery never offered again. Go figure. Two left the building.) We have our cars in working order, though, and so are doing curbside pickup. I might have railed at the performance of our government leaders and I have complained about the construction continuations (and was proven right as it became one of the flash points in our community).

Those New Year's Resolutions, though. Oofta. I have mixed things up by doing Holiday Resolutions. And these make me really sad because they reveal a lifestyle I've been (temporarily I hope) robbed of. I have made the mundane NY resolutions. And years ago...I made resolutions for other people!

I think maybe I will just approach 2021 with this thought from 2012: 

I resolve to live fully in the moment at hand as best I can and to do things a little differently every day to shake things up.

That seems fair and maybe I can keep it. 

Random Thoughts from the Plague Times

 

Puzzles are distracting. When I'm trying to match up a piece to the others in a jigsaw, I can momentarily forget that going outside the apartment is a big deal involving taking a small risk, gearing up with a mask, and making sure we have everything because multiple trips make it harder (getting an elevator alone, etc.). Same with the crossword puzzles and other variety puzzles I do (Ken-Ken, etc.). So while I'm not bored and have plenty to do there is something about puzzles in that they allow me to drift away from the current mess. (Above picture is my husband placing the last piece of a jigsaw we did.)

Other random thoughts from this time:

• While lots of people lost their jobs I think in Austin the people in construction and landscaping are pretty well-employed. Of course, there has been a spread of COVID-19 in these workforces so that's not good.
• I figure the companies that make take-out containers and paper sacks and all the accouterments of curbside dining and shopping are doing well.
• Bars "operating as restaurants" by adding a food truck is a joke. A Texas joke.
• It is amazing to get a call from someone inviting us to brunch. At a restaurant. Upon hearing that we are not doing that we hear that the person's spouse already had it (caught shopping) and so did the caller (from a grandkid). And besides "everything down here is wide open." (In their small town outside Austin.) 
• I no longer expect much from vaccination. My hope is that people who get it won't get sick or not as sick even though they may be able to pass it around. I hope to get one so that I won't get as sick when I get it. I'll keep wearing my mask so that I don't pass it along and avoiding contact and such after I get one, but I might eat in a restaurant or shop inside more if I thought I wouldn't get as sick. (I have made one and only one inside shop since mid-March. I hope that people I have been avoiding so that I don't give it to them might get a vaccine and reduce the risk of killing them.)
• I now realize that this situation will continue in pretty much the same way for us until it has been one year! Maybe longer. Shocking.
• I don't know if I will ever feel the same interacting with others. I'm an introvert anyway. Don't encourage me.
• I am well and truly never going to get my drawers, closets, storage cage, and computer files sorted and organized before I die. Having nine months to do it and making this much progress? Right.
• Our neighborhood walks (most within five miles of here, the furthest twelve miles) have proved to me that there is an infinity in this small space. I'd love to be traveling the world but there are lots of things to see. So close. And yet, sigh.
• My writing here on this blog, posts on Facebook, and scribbles in notebooks in longhand are not really writing or journaling. They are really just ways to keep my feet planted in the world so that I don't float away in this weird time. On paper, I make myself write the date out with the day of the week in parentheses and then Day XXX. Today: December 23, 2020 (Wednesday) Day 284. (Sometimes it's all I can write. But usually, I write what we ate, where we went, what errands we ran, and what we watched on TV.) Yes, 284 days in this isolation mode.
• We watch so many movies and series on TV that occasionally I will not remember what we watched the night before. Or I will remember snippets from a series and can't remember where it was set or what the name of it was or which streaming service or cable channel it was on. We have been working our way through "NYPD Blue," however. So when we are at a loss as to what to watch we simply revert to that.
• In the Before Times, I would get things done and get them out of the way so that I could travel or go out and about. Now I often think "oh, I can do that tomorrow just as well."
• For a while, I watched the clock and when 5 p.m. rolled around I would mix a drink (or get the hubby to do it). It was kind of symbolic. Now, I'm not so interested in it. (Not that I have quit drinking. Far from it. As the recycling bin will attest.)
• When I express doubt that we will ever again travel freely, dine out with abandon or go out to hear live performances, I really don't need to have people say "oh, yes you will." But, of course, someone always does.

I Don't Really Like Cooking

 

Last night I made dinner. This isn't it. I should have taken some pictures last night. The recipe involved a lot of mushrooms and other ingredients. (Including wine and garlic...usually a good sign.) The result was allegedly Mushroom Bourgignon. It took a long time. I wasn't terribly impressed.

I don't really mind chopping. The above picture is probably chopped chicken tenders, chopped broccoli, chopped carrots, chopped onion, and minced garlic. All in a bottled curry sauce. (Was yummy as I recall.) 

Since the Plague Times began I've poached eggs in the traditional way (in swirling hot water). expertly separated eggs for my husband's Caesar salad (and saved the whites for an egg-white forward omelet that was pretty expertly done). I've made wilted spinach salad similar to my mom's from the olden days. I've chopped all sorts of stuff for salads and curry (bottled sauce).  I don't bake. I take too many liberties with recipes to bake. (Which might explain my dissatisfaction with the recipe last night.) I never roast chicken or turkey. We don't make homemade pizza.

I love to eat out. Take out is harder and requires planning ahead and also often ends up with food that needs reheating. We've been doing a lot of it, however. We always get more than we can eat because if you have to reheat anyway you might as well not have to go out again. We got takeout greasy hamburgers the other day. In spite of driving them home and having to climb the stairs to our apartment because the fire alarm had taken out the elevators, they were delicious.

Second Wave

 

Every day, a bit after six, I will usually look at this chart for my county in Texas. Besides new cases, I'll also see if there are new deaths reported and how the hospitalizations, ICU, and ventilator numbers look. We are trying to tame vectors ourselves. We don't ride the elevators in our building with others and go to the public area downstairs (lobby, mailroom with 430 boxes, concierge desk) either very late at night or not at all. (A kind concierge drops things at our door.) We walk outside where there are fewer people. We get everything curbside. (Save my one trip to Costco which, I'm happy to say was a couple of weeks ago and at the elderly hour.) We were just out picking up takeout at a restaurant and a few things at the deli downstairs. All dropped in our trunk. We don't want to catch it. And we don't want to pass it on. So we reduce our vectors of exposure.

I hope those numbers go down to September/October levels soon. I hope the dip today isn't just lax weekend reporting. Or the fact that UT students took their positive tests home. 

There isn't much I can do about it. Except, you know, what I'm doing.