Thursday, April 16, 2020 CoronaVirus Day #29

Yesterday evening my “glad jar” held several notes. I wondered which might have made me most glad. Maybe it was having received a couple of well-sewn face masks from Laura, a neighbor who’s volunteering effort to prevent disease spreading. She sews masks to a design recommended by our main hospital. Her creativity has included easy-closure strings that ease a user’s tying and securing the mask. She offers some masks to neighbors and donates the rest to the hospital.

Her efforts, good masks and generosity, made me feel most glad.

There were other bright moments–like walking the several blocks to Laura’s with my twin goats in tow. Breeze and Poppy have become more confident and bold on their leashes. Walking with them means experiencing some of the world through their alert eyes and ears. A herd of does we came across spotted the goats and popped to high attention–and vice-versa, with the goats their mirror image. Each beast stood frozen, on full alert, except for me, trying to move us quietly past that spot.

Other things happen that evoke different feelings are worthy, too, of noting in an “unglad jar”.

For example, my neck got a sting! In all my years of living here, I’ve never been bothered by an insert, not a bee, wasp, or mosquito. A day ago at a tiny sting, I raised my hand and brushed off a bitty dark insert, maybe a mosquito? Shortly later, the sting site swelled, became itchy, and continues to attract my fingers. Now, having to avoid touching my face also means avoiding my neck. That sting, definitely an unglad.

I used to be a student of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s musings on “the law of compensation”. He thought that each happening, good or bad, opens the way for a follow-on occurrence with the opposite effect. That idea keeps me trying to avoid becoming highly excited or very saddened over events, but controlling feelings isn’t easy. Anyway, various events do cause opposing responses, and noting them rates another jar.

I’ll begin searching for a second empty Mason Jar.

Dear Readers: This long lockdown teaches us much about ourselves. Diana

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

CV isolation: Day 28

One of the notes yesterday in my “glad jar” was about receiving an email from a casual friend who lives nearby. She has created masks and is offering them to neighborhood folks. She describes the masks as made to a hospital pattern but not highly preventive. They do have a pocket into which protective media could be inserted. Well, I’ve noticed that she pays intense attention to details and accuracy, which suggests the masks are doggone good. Today, I’ll pick up one, a good motivation for taking a walk with my goats.

It’s occured to me, there’s a product on hand that might inhibit germ-spreading. In the process of cleaning a fish tank and about to change its filter, I looked closely at the dense fiber rectangle. It’s like HEPA filtration, maybe it’s the same fabric. Supposedly, HEPA filters are as effective as N95 masks. When next I venture out, my mask will include aquarium filtration. In these times of material shortages, any sort of mask seems better than none at all, and the same for insertions.

Venturing out is a big topic. I don’t need anything in particular, just want to browse through places, like Michael’s, JoAnne, and Home Depot. I’d look for new products and hope to come up with creative ideas. About my aquariums, one got hit weeks ago by a fish disease that wiped out all but one big fella. The tank is disinfected, the surviving fish seems okay but needs buddies. I want to find new fishes, but like most other public places, aquarium suppliers are off limits.

Hearing ideas about ways that populations might return to normal activities doesn’t reassure that a transition plan will be easy and safe. But even semi-isolated, we continue to consume products and this requires viable manufacturing and commerce. We’re aware of power-grabbing attempts and associated squabbling among our leaders that obscure any sensible-sounding ideas for moving forward. Before all’s done, we might be wearing two more masks: one to cover our ears and another for our eyes.

Dear Friends: That “glad jar” really helps us stayed tuned to what’s nice in a day. Diana

Tuesday, April 14, 2020

CV Day 27

I’ve been searching for enlightenment about what’s being called a “Maker’s Economy”. This refers to the kinds of indoors activities we’re into while semi-isolated. Maybe we love doing things, like knitting, needlepoint, machine sewing, and painting on rocks. They’re projects we work on while home and mostly inside. Nice outcomes make us wonder if there could be a market for our products. Actually, pathways are springing up. Amazon has many listings under “Handmade”, and also online, a “Rising Tide Association” promotes a Maker’s Economy.

We love that fantasy world of profit from our ideas and energy, and it’s nice to purchase things handmade and beautiful. The only way my brain can get slightly on board with the notion of becoming commercial from home would mean purchasing a 3D printer. I know zero about those printers, but their capabilities and an operator’s creative brain may conjure ideas for useful products.

Keeping to what’s simple, yesterday evening I read a blog where the writer described having started a “glad jar”. Into it during the day, one slips handwritten notes as reminders of occurrences that cause glad feelings. That idea encouraged me to think back and search for yesterday’s moments of gladness. All day I’d been task-oriented, glad enough but not happy-glad. Suddenly, I flashed on something that had been unexpected, that made me very glad. My neighbor texted about going shopping in the morning and wondered if I needed things. As one among the more vulnerable-to-coronavirus, I felt relieved and very glad while texting my list of needs. With thanks, again, to my thoughtful kind neighbor.

Thanks also to the blogger for that idea of starting a Glad Jar. I’ll hope that daily it’ll collect several notes. Actually, the jar will serve multiple purposes, by (1) focusing attention on “a glad”, (2) recording the nicest moments, and (3) encouraging day-end reflections on all the best stuff.

Dear Friends: Collaborating in these “insider days” is a grace that encourages gladness. Diana

Monday, April 13, 2020

CV: Day 27

Hulu is streaming the movie, “RBG”, and as friends who’ve recommended it declare, it’s a terrific documentary. She’s brilliant and likeable. Some of my favorite parts are audios from her early days arguing before the Supreme Court, and later as a Justice questioning the capable attorney arguing against enabling the enrollment of women in the historically all-male Virginia Military Academy. Plus, watching her working out in the Court gym shames we couch-potato retirees. And how RBG loves opera! She’s amazing and determined. Long may she stay strong and continue doing whatever she wishes.

Thinking about RBG, her longevity and fortitude, got me reflecting on Queen Elizabeth, who’s in her early nineties and still very active. Recent videos have shown her riding horseback, walking with delegations, and now, stepping forward in this coronavirus stretch, speaking to her subjects and the world. Her public declarations are rare.

Those very elderly women encourage us step back and reflect on them as individuals, with historical influence and continuing power. Americans who wonder about the worthiness of elderly candidates for this country’s most powerful position might be wise to take into account the world’s experience with such as RBG and Elizabeth. Thinking more about this can reveal many examples of contemporary fine, wise and powerful, elderly leaders. Just sayin’.

Not that the age game is much of a consideration at this point for Americans. We’ve zeroed-in on our most-likely candidates, and they’re old.

Anyway, watch RBG if possible. It’s probably available to stream on venues besides Hulu.

Dear Friends: The weather was lovely for Easter and so I hope was your whole day. Diana

Sunday, April 12, 2020

Coronavirus Day 26

For many religions this period is one of holiest. Today, Easter Sunday, brings another day of public lockdown and an unusual Easter. Worshippers are asked to stay home and stream religious services or watch them on television. Typically, this holiday celebrates wearing pretty clothing and hats, and gatherings of folks taking walks (my mental visual is MGM’s “Easter Parade”), and the comings-together of families for celebration meals. Today, people must seek creative ways to gather and celebrate. The Zoom site will be busy.

Anyway, Happy Easter and Passover or whatever you might be celebrating. I’ll be interested in learning from the news media the ways in which people spend this day. I haven’t a particular religious belief, but am respectful of the many “social goodnesses” that exist because there are believers and followers. After all, every one of us was taught the Ten Commandments.

Fortunately, my freezer held a whole chicken that yesterday I thawed. Today, I’ll roast that chicken until it has the right temperature and a lovely, crisp skin of perfect color. I’ll enjoy my favorite parts, a leg and thigh, while remembering and appreciating happier times and celebratory meals with family and friends. My cockatoo, Peaches, will crack open a leg bone for its marrow; my dogs will get kibble well-moistened with “trimmings and giblets” soup. We’ll continue for days sharing the remains.

I’ll make a point of participating socially, online, to enjoy the offerings.

Dear Friends: Have as fine a day as it’s possible to create among the possibilities. Diana

Saturday, April 11, 2020

Early today I finished listening to an mp3 version of the powerhouse novel, “Every Note Played”, by Lisa Genova, a terrific writer who meticulously researches her book topics. She’s a Ph.D. in neuroscience, was influenced by the writings of Oliver Sacks, and tries to grasp every detail of the disease in her attention. Her self-published first novel, “Still Alice”, still enlightens readers about alzheimer’s, its impact on individuals and family units.

“Every Note Played” focuses on ALS, a slowly-paralyzing disease that might be the worst afflict an individual suffers. Contrasted to Alzheimer’s, which causes a slow loss of memory and finally all of it, ALS paralyzes slowly, too, but physically, while leaving total thought capacity. ALS patients anticipate their own total paralysis and demise.

There are two key characters in “Every Note Played”. One is a renowned concert pianist diagnosed with the onset of ALS. The story takes us through his gradual paralysis, his awareness, fears, anguish and anger. Other key characters are his divorced wife and their college-age daughter. Secondarily, there are friends, caretakers, and physicians.

Music is a major theme throughout this story. His lifelong motivation has been to achieve as a pianist a technical perfection that includes emotional expression. His ex-wife also is a talented pianist and equally passionate about music.

The chapters, in turn are from his and her viewpoints. They speak to playing and listening to music, the aftermath and spoils of divorce, the onset and gradual acceptance of disease. This is a story of how love and experience may bind people together.

I was struck by the talented mp3 readers who brought alive all the words and concepts. I’d read “Still Alice”, and figured Genova would bring on slowly the full impact of ALS, she’d teach and involve readers. That happened, and I couldn’t pause the novel, my attention never wandered.

Alzheimer’s and ALS are afflictions awful for an individual and family unit. Genova’s excellent stories themed around illnesses are reminders that knowledge may help to comfort inquisitive minds.

Dear Readers: This novel is readable, enjoyable, informative, and even soothing. Diana

Friday, April 10, 2020

My brief research shows that America’s coronavirus lockdown started March 17, when we began officially to practice social distancing and self-isolating. So, today dawns as #25 in an unprecedented stretch of national anxiety. We follow orders to avoid contagion, while worrying about diminishing finances, confused living arrangements, postponed work priorities, and whatever may be ahead. Meanwhile, this period reveals uber-serious issues, like the neglects in health care for African American Communities, how politicians almost-easily may suppress voters, and oh, the incredible power of a bully stage. For example, where’s our other presidential contender? Or maybe: Is Governor Como potentially a shoo-in for nominee as President (assuming conventions are possible) at convention time?

I prep for every day’s worries by reading briefs, articles, and blogs, some are pessimistic and others provide solace and hope. What’s clear is that while needing others individuals must know how to fuel their own minds and bodies. Lately, I’ve began thinking about beefing-up my routines.

Sure, it’s easy to be out among my trees with a chainsaw for lots of days going forward, but physical exercise alone isn’t enough. Yesterday, I made up my mind to find a free e-book and spent hours sitting and playing online with the public library. After figuring out how, I downloaded a couple of books and went outside.

My book turned out to be an excellent choice. I listened while planting 100 iris bulbs, a bigger chore than I imagined, and “reading” countered the repetitiveness of hole-digging. (BTW, I discovered that gum-chewing which works ear muscles causes ear-buds to fall out.) Once all the bulbs were covered and watered, I gathered chainsaws and headed for trees.

I was sawing a huge limb and focused on the direction it might fall when a vehicle pulled up and parked. When the limb had fallen I looked over and there were my friends, Virginia and Joe. (I’ve written about Virginia, who suffered a massive stroke and had been near death in hospital. She went home to LaPine in an ambulance with me riding along.) Her son, Joe, is a miracle worker. He’s helped Virginia recover and get back onto her feet. Yesterday, after her encouraging medical visit, they stopped to say hello. She looks more like her old self, we social-distanced while catching up.

After they left, I put on-hold the tree-trimming, left branches and limbs laying around, and went to practice getting on and off a horse, hopefully without feeling joint pains. My dependable soulmate, Sunni, waited patiently through cleaning, combing, and saddling. She again was patient as I prepared to mount from a raised platform. I climbed aboard–and without pain! Sunni went walking over my rocky property, carried me under tree limbs high enough now to accommodate us. We traveled down the street for a quarter mile. Sunni seemed never to have seen that street, the very one on which she frequently pulls a cart or walks beside me to a neighbor’s pasture. Is it that a saddle and rider alters a horse’s perspective? Nonetheless, she was great and my ride wonderful. I’m back in the saddle.

As if that wasn’t enough fun, later while I was inside watching televised coronavirus news, my friend Grant texted. He was participating in a Zoom knitting group session and could loop me in. That was my first experience with Zoom and it was terrific. Friends in their homes, knitting, talking, and visible. One participant was in Michigan! It was fun being again among knitters. I’ll ask Fancywork Yarn across cyberspace for help in choosing a new project and providing safely the pattern and yarn.

What a fine day was #24.

Dear Friends: I’d love to know how you’re filling these days, how about starting to blog? Diana

Thursday, April 09, 2020

Yesterday, I finished trimming that tree-by-the-road which let me interact with neighbors who were out walking. The tree’s lower limbs (removed before the photo was taken) had been heavy toward the ground. They were fat and made my long-pole trimming tool work. Once fallen and needing cutting, the logs challenged my smallish chain saw. Trimming that tree took hours, and now those limbs can’t annoy by brushing against vehicle tops or interfering with someone walking.

With that aside, I began creating a garden. I augmented the soils in some existing, long-ignored raised beds and today will set bulbs. It’s a surprising mitzvah, that before quitting nearly all shopping I bought packages of flowering bulbs, designed for spring-planting in this region. Most summers, I get too busy with horses to tend a garden and would ignore such bulbs. While at the moment of purchase my bulb impulse felt whimsical, it since seems a visional purchase.

After adding soil amendments and re-learning from ebay how to start my rototiller, I rolled that machine onto the raised beds and guided it in digging back and forth. I worried about the tiny critters perhaps housed in that soil, like bitty frogs and lizards. But one does as one must. For the coming months of hanging around the house, pretty flowers will be a welcome sight.

Today, I’ll trim another of the many waiting trees, and also, practice ways of mounting and dismounting a horse that minimize joint pain. Being forced to stay home becomes a sort of no-guilt trip. By emphasizing everything local, it encourages a refocus toward set-aside dreams of doing.

Dear Friends: In this beautiful springtime, lounges in the sun’s warmth beckon. Diana

Wednesday, April 08, 2020

Yesterday was gorgeous, bringing shirtsleeve weather and encouraging lots of folks outdoors. My story on that day was a continuation. I was out with a chainsaw and going after low-hanging tree limbs. Particularly a large juniper close to the busy road that fronts my horses’ dry lot. The tree is large and healthy but long has been a problem. When I’m turning from the road onto my property, I hear low hanging limbs brushing my vehicle’s top. In winter, snows make the limbs heavier, nearly touching the ground and blocking my pathway. It was time yesterday to prune that tree.

I did so sorrowfully, for the most offensive low limbs were healthy, heavy and very green. Cutting them felt like committing murder. After falling a limb, it became huge work to lop, saw, load, and haul away debris. After the fact, I had to become accustomed to more sunlight through upper limbs. I’ll learn to like that.

Meanwhile, the roadway sported more traffic than vehicles. People were out and simply enjoying a warm day. Motorcycles roared past, bicyclists swept along alone or in groups, joggers gave me nods, and folks out strolling or walking their dogs said hello. To my surprise, right there at the roadside I pleasantly conversed with several neighborhood acquaintances.

A friend who stopped, an avid library-user and enthusiastic about its online system, encouraged a decision to find my library card. I always purchase newspaper subscriptions and books from online sellers, but actually, the newspapers, magazines, and books that interest me are available for free online. My project today will be an online look into library offerings.

A passing woman walking her dog, a cute Border Collie mix, reminded me that several years ago I helped her corral that dog–a recent rescue who had escaped her yard. I couldn’t recall that incident but remembered his interesting name, “Declan”. Her name also is interesting, Dina–close to my own and that of a close friend’s daughter, and so, easy to remember.

She reminded me that we had captured her dog by herding the active fellow into my barn and leashing him. Well, my brain had to justify its emptiness, and did I suppose, by my having rescued many dogs usually attracted to my own dogs. Most strays have had owners actively searching for them. The one that went ignored, a puppy, stayed and became my Ranger. Anyway, I digress.

I’ve described being acquainted with more of this neighborhood’s residents from being out and about with animals. Animals are friend magnets–dogs for sure, and also, the less-seen-close-up animals, like my equines and pigmy goats. Those neighborhood friends, pausing yesterday, were welcome respites from that chain-sawing. And we respected the protocol of appropriately distancing from one another.

Dear Friends: Our broken and confused routines bring new freedoms and adventures. Diana

Tuesday, April 07, 2020

The huge setting moon is round and bright, the weather is getting warmer. Maybe spring is arriving.

I hemmed a skirt that’s been coming together over the last month, tried it on, and it fits! While working on this skirt, I’ve wondered where to wear it. It’s a sewing project that arose from playing with possibilities for staying busy and with purpose. The ensuring weeks have been endless days of going nowhere. My sewing slam should have been to create sweats.

It’s spring and I’m in an optimistic mind frame. On the good side, sewing again after many years has forced me to re-learn how to work a sewing machine. This has future possibilities. My current machine, an inexpensive Brother model from Costco, is modern and computerized. It’s been a bummer to figure out threading and stitches.

I remember those big old black-bodied Singers, they were easy. One could arrange, almost blindfolded, a top thread and fill a bobbin. Then easily pop that bobbin into its space under the needle. The Singer allowed for sewing thick fabrics, and of course required learning, but a project moved along without having to interpret instructions originating from China and symbols related to computerized stitches.

The one item I’m sorry for not having taken from my sister’s home while giving it a final cleaning was her old post-treadle-model Singer, a heavy-duty machine. My sister, a do-it-yourselfer, was a whiz. On that machine she sewed fabrics of all sorts, from clothing materials to upholstery leathers. I decided to walk away from it and now could kick myself.

Here we are, in a coronavirus period that’s brought days of going nowhere, self-isolating, mask-wearing. These times force us to continue thinking creatively. So, I’m still thinking about my pretty skirt. I’ll wear it while out feeding horses, goats, and chickens, and accessorize it with a pair of sturdy cowboy boots.

Dear Friends: These days need our slowing to “one-step-at-a-time”, no need to rush. Diana