Happy Labor Day. Enjoy the outdoors. But please, enjoy it responsibly.
As you probably know, I follow the blog, Why Evolution Is True by Jerry Coyne. A while back he published a post “Discussion: psychological effects of the pandemic” which I found to be almost, but not totally, how it has affected me. Instead of joining in his discussion, I decided to write my own. And hope that you, Gentle Reader, will consider posting in the comment section how it has, or has not, affected you.
Like Jerry, I too, am more peevish. Peevish about little things I would normally just laugh off. Like people who don’t wear masks. I have a recently discovered underlying health issue, on top of being an old fartess which is enough in my mind, and when I walk Sammy Brave Dog, I am the only one outside wearing a mask, as well as other items of clothing. No one else wears one, which wouldn’t be so bad, but they also don’t socially distance. Perhaps they have no idea how far 6′ is? and of course, they often wish to stop and chat, as do I. One person has informed me she has health issues and can’t wear a mask, and since by knowing what her issue is, I can’t cure her, I haven’t asked. But I am curious what health issues preclude the wearing of a mask. I would think the wearing of a mask would help keep them safer, not make them sicker. But, what do I know?
But the thing that gets my Peeve the most is the lack of human touch. I miss shaking hands, giving/receiving hugs from friends I haven’t seen in a while, or people who really need the touch. (Like me). Had an appointment with a longtime friend and advisor yesterday. For years we started our meetings with a handshake and ended with a hug. Yesterday we maintained our distance and didn’t even bump elbows. We both lamented the loss, but agreed it is the safe way to be. For now. I have read several articles in the past that stated humans need/require a minimum number of touches daily (I think the average number was 15) to maintain good mental health. Unless we’re in a committed relationship, or taking undo chances, we ain’t getting ‘em. It will be interesting to see how we come out of this, eh?
And the inability to comfort, with hugs, the bereaved who have lost loved ones during the pandemic. So many people have had to have private funerals with few, if any, mourners. Funerals are a way for all of us to say good-bye, and grieve our loss at the finality of death. At a time when closeness is called for, no, it is screamed for, it is denied for the greater good. I am not arguing against it, I understand it, and agree/approve it. But that doesn’t lessen the hurt.
Reading. Now reading is something I’ve done for years, I’d rather read than eat (or read AND eat—now that is Heaven!), and I’ve always been an eclectic reader. My reading habit is now different. I have become the Queen of Put-it-down-before-it’s-finished. In the past, if I started a book, I’d usually finish it. Not now. Too many books, too few years left. If the book is a downer, I don’t finish. If it’s an adrenaline gusher, I don’t finish. If it’s something that requires concentration (nonfiction), I probably won’t start it. I love poetry, and that has been my salvation. I have discovered many new-to-me poets for which I shall remain grateful until my final day. And I’m writing more. Fiction, not so much, but poetry, yes joh yes. And my weekly blog. (I am in awe of how often Jerry Coyne posts! I consider myself fortunate to post one a week.)
Are you taking any online courses you wouldn’t normally take? What? Why? I took some webinars on podcasting. Learned a lot. And then, I started working on podcasts, only to discover I not only have allergies but I also have a low-grade asthma, both of which adversely affect my voice—or lack thereof. No podcasts, just the now and then Spoken Word on my website. Hopefully those will bring you a smile, if not an outright chuckle.
So, yes, I understand, relate, and empathize with people who have been adversely affected. As a writer, a reader, and a quilter, all of which are fairly solitary hobbies, the pandemic hasn’t affected me that much, but it has affected me. I am no longer able to meet “the group” for happy hour once a month to eat, drink, and make merry, or book group discussion once a month, or go walking with a stop in a coffee shop to sip and write and or people watch. As much of a “hermit” as I sort of am, I’m a social hermit. And being told I can’t socialize irritates the hell out of me, even though I totally understand and agree with and support it.
What I want for social distancing: (Sea gulls, probably Western Gull and Herring Gull)
What we’ve got for social distancing: (Eurasian Collared-Dove)
Enough of my rantings. What about yours? Let it all out in the comment section below. You’ll feel better. Honest. Trust me.
Entertainment:
Netflix: Lucifer Oh, Auntie Lenora is grumbling! Season 5 of Lucifer premiered the other night, and I settled in to watch all 16 episodes over a two-plus week period, only to discover those sneaky Devils at Netflix released it in two parts. Season 5A and (eventually, at some date to be known at some time in the future) Season 5B, 8 episodes each. Talk about feeling peevish!
A Thousand Goodnights. I’m still enjoying this family drama. It’s slow, easy, and fun. And the scenery is gorgeous. It’s rated Teen, but I can’t think of a teen I’ve ever been or known who would enjoy it as much as the adults. No action, no martial arts, no heavy metal rock n roll. Just a good family drama. Here’s a great review I can’t quibble with: Dramas with a Side of Kimchi — rather like the blog title, too.
Amazon Prime: Wycliff. Did I say something in an earlier post about the endings being chopped? Well, Season 5 has no endings, at least the first few episodes, instead they’ve gone into the long, continuing story, and it’s becoming a bit too much of a soap opera for me. I’ve decided I’m not watching any more. Besides, it was becoming more and more difficult to suspend my disbelief.
Books:
See Rainy Day Reads for book reviews. and mayhaps a bit of snark. Who? Me? Snark? Bwahahahaha!
This is not a book, but a Brag. Three of my friends and I have poems published in the current issue of Quill and Parchment—Jim Thielman, Mark Fleisher, and Jim Bumgarner. The two Jims and I are members of The Tarweed Poets, and hope to have a book of our poetry out in time for the December Holidays, the working title is Three Tarweeds Speak. Please keep the book in mind for your Winter Gifts. And rest assured, I’ll remind you when it’s available.Are you a Red, White, and Blue Patriot? Show it! Wear your mask. Show you care for your country, your family, your friends, your neighbors, your dog, your cat, even the birds in your yard. And y’all come back next week, same bird time, same bird channel. The coffee is always on, the biscotti are home made, and we’ve always got time for a coffee break and a visit. (And, we’ll be properly socially distanced, so you may remove your mask.) (And I promise, no birdseed in the biscotti.)
Auntie Lenora
Like you, most of my activity revolved around writing, editing, and otherwise sitting in front of a computer. Nevertheless, I find it difficult to keep focus. I find it difficult to throw myself into my work as I once did. The enormity of the pandemic has changed me in some undefinable way.
In the beginning, I gained perspective of the number of deaths by comparing it to the crashing of a jumbo jet–usually big news worldwide. I soon had to change my yardstick and used the population of the small town in which I live. Population 10,000. Two high schools, countless churches, two large supermarkets. Imagine the news if my town suddenly disappeared from the earth, leaving only empty buildings. Yet within six short months the equivalent population of TWENTY towns like mine have died, many of them alone without family by their sides. Is it any wonder I have trouble sleeping? cannot focus?
I neglect to say that the deaths mentioned above are deaths in the United States. The world wide toll needs yet a larger yardstick.
As part of a family of three (two elderly parents, and a middle-aged daughter, separated from her husband by the combined vagaries of the INS and the Covid virus), I’m not lacking for contact, and in fact am one of those who has found the quarantine measures, on the whole, not unpleasant. A lot of that is luck — we get along, we have an adequately spacious house with a yard and a small garden, two of us are good cooks, the neighborhood is mid-middle-class and mostly mask-wearing, or at least conscious of distancing. I have finally been able to do the things around the house that have needed doing for years — correcting the badly placed outlet, getting things to work properly in general. And I have some time for reading and writing.
For some years I worked as a court interpreter. I enjoyed it, the process of accurately transforming a narrative between languages, both according to dictionary meaning, and register as well (if the witness was aggressive and obscene, so was I, in the opposite language). But during that time, I never escaped a slight feeling of guilt — that I found enjoyment in proceedings that to most of the principals were traumatic. I have some of the same feelings now, in having so far escaped the horror that a pandemic brings, the grinding death toll, the dislocation, the isolation. Speaking as an American, I believe that it is also accelerating the national disintegration that our current strong-man rule promotes. But Juan Cole, the Middle East scholar, has written about living in Beirut during the civil war that divided the city, and how much normal life went on for most, in spite of it all; as I say, I am very lucky.
I am doing great here in Camp Quarantine. Great partner, great hobbies, great-ish health. But, I recently saw a post from some dear friends in Australia who just married off daughter #2. It was a grand, happy, wonderful celebration with everyone sitting together and celebrating in their normal, healthy world. While I was happy for them, I fell into a bit of a funk knowing that 190,000 of us are dead and over 6,000,000 of us are sick. The rest of us have had our jobs, normal lives, opportunities, and time (perhaps a year plus) stolen from us. As a trained engineer, the lack of a plan to fix this drives me a bit nuts.