To Sushi, Jane & Dana

 

Take a screenshot of the chart above to use as a Christmas card or birthday card for the anti-vaxxers in your life. I hope these anti-science morons lose access to schools and transportation in the future.

•

It felt very good to be off my butt yesterday. I took Sheba for a long walk because it wasn’t raining and then I cleaned the car—outside and in, before going to the post office to pick up a parcel and then to Twin Beaches to harvest beached seaweed for the garden and my compost.

Wet seaweed in a large plastic garbage bag is heavy! I took two bags but only filled each one less than half-way so that I could carry them back to the (nice clean) car. By the time I got home, the sun was shining, and I was feeling absolutely wonderful.

I transplanted some plants in my edible garden and did some work on the fountain—cleaning it out and helping the Ivy grow up its base. And after that, I researched and recorded directions to the Sushi place I’m going to today, and to Jane and Dana’s house. 

Our afternoon walk was a delight because of the bright sky and the elevated mood it brought on. There were lots of people forest walking and I have no trouble whatsoever saying hello and making brief small talk with them. I love “passing” as a fluent person.

By late afternoon, it was time to do some R&R—reading and relaxing and a nice long soak in the spa. It had been a great day, full of activity and I had today’s adventure to anticipate. But once into the spa, I had a long-lasting body-shaking seizure—something I hadn’t had for many, many months. And then we had hail! Sigh.

I thought my days with seizures were over, but no. At least there was no one around saying things like “take deep breaths,” “slow your breathing,” “calm down” or other such things. I know they’re well-intentioned but if they thought about it for a moment, they’d realize I would if I possibly could. It’s a storm that has to happen and then pass.

Once back to feeling “normal,” I took to the couch for the balance of the day, confident that today would be bright and clear after some morning clouds. I’m very excited about seeing Jane and Dana who are both great and long-time friends, and to having Sushi for the first time in four years. 

The Trial of the Chicago Seven

The Sympathizer concerns the Viet Nam war; it’s the third novel about war and that I’ve read this year and my reading has made me aware of how weak we are with our complaints about Covid isolation. When I think of the assholes who protest vaccinations, host massive mask-less parties and jump the vaccination ques, I wonder what they would have done during blackouts and rationing as happened everywhere during wartime. 

Yesterday was wet so our walks were short. The big diversion for the day was going to a part of the island I rarely see to witness Annette’s signature to her will at a local lawyer’s home. The lawyer lives on the coast—of course he does—and as happens every time I visit a coastal home, I think of murder and squatting. The views they get are extraordinary; all I see is trees at pinecone Park.

Two-thirty in the afternoon felt like five pm because it was so dark. But coming home from the lawyer’s after doing some grocery shopping, I felt very happy to be home and cozy in my log paradise, warmed by a magnificent blaze in the fireplace. Home still thrills me. The relative enormity of my home compared to all my previous residences still thrills me; I feel like a king, which is a very nice feeling (if a little odd).

By four, The Sympathizer had won me over. The writing is truly extraordinary—I’m drooling over Viet Thanh Nguyen’s prose. He delights me constantly with his choice of words.

Last night, I watched The Trial of the Chicago Seven, set in 1969. It made me aware of things I wasn’t doing at the time, things that I didn’t know about and should have. It made me wonder what I was worrying about in 1969 when I was in my fourth year of university: I was probably concerned about being outed as a gay man, getting good marks or if I had something exciting to do on the weekend. Meanwhile in Chicago …

I was sobbing at the end of the film, and much, much wiser about the times in which I lived. What a fabulous, wonderful film it is about how horrid justice can be. I’ve seen too many such films; they have made me irreparably cynical and depressed about our society and its institutions. Watch the film.

•

I have to start my generator yesterday as part of my maintenance routine. I absolutely dread doing it every six weeks for fear it won’t start. But it did. And as it ran for the ten minutes it takes to evaporate any moisture it takes on, I realized that so far this Winter, we’ve not had a single storm or power failure. It’s not just been warm—it’s been a very gentle season and I’ve loved the compensation for the first Covid Winter.

The other thing I’ll do today is return to the part of the island I visited yesterday to witness the will because where Sheba and I walked, the beaches were covered in washed up seaweed. So, I’m going back to get a couple of bags full to spread over my garden and to put into my composter. Exciting eh?

Zooming!

Early Sunday morning, long after the fire had been lit and the pets had been fed and fallen asleep in the glow of its flames, I was at my computer when I heard owls. I went outside and there must have been several of them—Barred Owls—creating a morning chorus that was both beautiful and spooky in the ink blackness. I love my every such experience that I never had living my long life in the city.

Once the daylight came, Sheba and I went for our walk and I came home to read. We had a second walk early in the afternoon so that she would be resting whilst I had a Zoom call with a batch of friends, all of whom were friends of our dearly departed Chris Adkins.

The Zoon call lasted an hour and a half and there were eight of us. It was absolutely fabulous. Several participants wrote to thank me for setting it up, which was nice. We all had a blast being together.

•

The Los Angeles Covid inoculation site, the largest in the US, was shut down on Saturday by vaccine protesters. I’m aghast! Truly, think about it. It’s one thing to not want a vaccine for yourself, but it’s quite another to prevent others from receiving it. Los Angeles is a Covid hot spot. Were, I the president, I’d lock them all up and charge them conspiracy to murder. Honest to God, what selfish stupid horrid people!

•

I stepped on the scales this morning (I haven’t done that in over a month) and was horrified, so I took all the candy I’d recently bought and packaged it into four gift bags and I’m taking the bags to my fellow dog walkers later this morning. I’m such an addictive person. But I’ve successfully ended my relationship with smoking and Marijuana, so I’m re-committing myself to avoiding candy and baking. 

•

The Sympathizer is not yet grabbing me. I hope to be seduced more today. Viet Thanh Nguyen

Is a masterful writer but, so far, I’m easily able to do other things—I’m not feeling compelled to dive in as I was with The Nightingale and Beneath the Scarlet Sky.

•

I am done with Miss Scarlet and the Duke on PBS. I think it’s truly dreadful. However, every second of All Creatures Great and Small absolutely delights me. It flies by.

•

Guess what: It’s raining. But Wednesday is looking decent and so I’m on track to visit with the Stills and, failing that, come Friday we’re predicted to enjoy a string of days with sunny weather, so I’ll be able to be outside all day. That will do wonders for my wellbeing.