Death comes easy. (2/17/2023)

Boy, it has been almost more than a month since I posted something here on my blog. In my eyes I have a valid excuse for it, but then, don’t we all have that when we procrastinate? But I really do! In the intermediate time, my wife got COVID, and my 95-year-old father-in-law had an accident and passed away, died, kicked the proverbial bucket! Since my wife had COVID during the onset of the whole affair, I all the sudden was trusted into the middle of it all as the main care giver, which left me little time to attend to this blog.

OK, if this hasn’t left some of you gasping for air, let’s dive into the details and a little of my feelings. I’ll try not to make this a tearjerker or terribly sentimental, I promise, I just want to share some of my observations and feelings. I still feel that I have been burning the candle at both ends and somehow got through it without COVID. My wife and I received our booster around the same time. Moreover, we did not isolate after she felt sick and tested positive. My only explanation is that I was running on adrenaline and that this somehow protected me.

She came down with it on a Monday evening. I had to teach an online class on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings. In addition to this I had to take care of a sick wife. My father-in-law was anxious that his daughter had COVID and although we tried to convince him it was not that bad; however, we could not visit him in the fear of infecting him. My wife had actually visited him the afternoon before she got sick. As a result, he had been isolated by his assisted living place as well in the fear that he was infected as well. He survived COVID earlier in 2022 so we hoped he still had enough antibodies. In addition, he had gotten a booster in November.

Things looked up on Thursday, but then Friday morning we got the word he was in the emergency room. He had fallen twice the night before. The wife was still in isolation, and it fell on me to find out what was going on. He was admitted to the hospital later that afternoon, which meant numerous hospital trips for me the next couple of days. On Tuesday they finally transported him to a rehabilitation unit 5 minutes from our home, which made it a bit easier on me. That Thursday my wife came out of isolation and was finally able to visit her father. He passed away the next Tuesday night (or maybe early Wednesday morning) around midnight. When he was in the hospital the doctor kept telling us he was 95 (almost 96) and that he was near death. Eventually it came out that he could no longer swallow and that he had two to three weeks to live. I am just happy that my wife, her brother, and our daughter got to see him while he was still alive in the rehabilitation/hospice unit.

All together, these were a rough combined two weeks. But as you can guess it is not over. Then comes cremation, memorial arrangements, lawyers, emptying apartments, you name it. It reminded me of 19 years ago when my mother died. I felt that I never had time to grieve until I got on the airplane to fly home. She died in the Netherlands, and I was there and watched her die. It was a sudden death; however, almost immediately I had to deal with a hysterical sister, the next day pick up my brother at the airport, make funeral arrangements, keep my brother and sister from killing each other, have a service, pack all her belongings, put her condo on the market and arrange the inheritance. Do this all, in one week. Having had no time to really grieve, I burst out in tears when the plane took off and cried or was hurting all the way home across the ocean, finally. As a result, I became alienated from both my sister and brother.

Death is interesting. You die and then it is over. When my father-in-law entered the rehab/hospice unit the doctor explained what was about to happen to him. The doctor told us that when he was about at the end of his story my father-in-law interrupted him and said, “and then I die.” He was an engineer and did not believe in anything after death. Neither do I, nor does my wife. It is wishful thinking that there is anything after death. Both my wife consider heaven here on earth and want to make it so.

My father believed in a strange form of reincarnation. Something like your spirit or soul returns to a great lake or a reservoir from which a minute amount comes to enter a new human (baby) to grow and develop. Once this conscious has grown and is fully developed and the host (person) dies it returns to the reservoir thus enriching the grand total making the overall grand mind richer in the log-term. It’s an interesting thought.

One final thought. Raquel Welch died this week at 82. Tim McCarver at 81. Whenever, I see those numbers I think “damn, 12 more years for me.” Thinking about it that way, it is not much fun. But then I could have a heart attack tomorrow. Mortality is not a prominent part of my thinking, but I am more aware of it now since I am getting older and closer to retirement <read here>. This afternoon, I saw two young chicks (sorry that sounds sexist, I know) smiling, walking their dogs. I could not help wondering if they are aware of their mortality and live in the moment. More and more, I am starting to appreciate everything I experience, life and nature around me. I hope you do too. Life is short and very precious.

I rarely post a picture of myself, but this is the most recent one of me with my father-in-law.  It was taken about three weeks before he died.  We had dinner at a Mexican restaurant.  You can see the edge of his margarita glass on the left side of the picture.  He enjoyed those.  On his death bed, while having hallucinations he kept hinting at drinking a beer or wanting to have a beer.  We should have smuggled one in!

Spring 2022 part 2 (4/7/2022)

As the pandemic winds down, and I whole heartedly hope it stays down, I am reminded that this is my third spring of teleworking or working from home. My department has decided that May 1 will be the date that things are going to go back to “normal.” Normal means working at least one day at the office and the other days are still allowed to be telework days. For me that means that on weeks that I do not teach or travel to teach (in May I teach in Williamsburg which does not require any travel), I need to show my face in the office one day a week. Our supervisor told us that if this would be the reason for one of us to quit or start looking for a different job, to let him know and we could talk about it. There is obviously some flexibility in the new rule. 

Working from home has become the new normal for me and I like it. While working I can bake bread, do the laundry, do some writing, explore the news, make dinner, and spend some time outside either looking at my bonsai or just looking and walking through the woods behind our home. Many of you know, I am a huge believer of the concept of forest bathing.

Forest bathing or regularly spending time outside in nature lowers the blood pressure and the general anxiety one has. Just looking around, spending time outside, and breathing in the smells of the natural world increases your immunity to diseases and most likely fight cancers as well.  Research in Japan showed that the volatile compounds or aromatic compounds released by the vegetation, called phytoncides, are responsible for all this and the effect of a one-time exposure to these compounds can actually last up to two weeks.  Naturally, movement itself strengthens your immunity, skeletal and your cardiovascular system.  I get a lot of creative ideas for new classes, for changes to my current classes or to the way I teach by simply walking outside in the woods meditating and thinking. This is where I get my inspiration. Thank goodness, my supervisor know this and he encourages this.

One of my more favorite areas in the woods behind our home.  Just past this crossing is a grove of very large yellow populars (or tulip trees).  I just love it here!

During these two years working from home, I have been able to come much closer to the natural cycle of nature and how it affects my bonsai trees, my yard, the natural area and the woods out back. It has helped me to become calmer and more accepting of who I am and everything going on around me. I would say that I have become more introspective. More and more do I realize that I am me and no one can take that away from me. I have gone through a lot of tough times in my life (personally and with or because of my extended family), some of which I have chronicled in these postings; someday I will post some more. However, I am happy with where I am and where my life is heading; I would not want to change a thing right now.

As I write this the redbud in my backyard is blooming profusely. The honey bees that we keep in the back yard are all over it and so are the chickadees. The chickadees are eating the small pink flowers which must be loaded with vitamins, flavonoids and all kinds of micronutrients. Or are they eating insects that feast on the flowers? Those small observations are so enjoyable and keep me going, that sapsucker I can see working the tree right outside my window, the lemon tree seedling in my office that are rapidly growing towards the light. It is almost time for the tropical to go outside and make an attempt to rig up that irrigation system. Summer is rapidly approaching.

The view from my home office window.  You can see the redbud in its full glory.  Other trees are starting to leaf out.

Return to the scene of the crime - Hotels 6 (3/29/2022)

It was almost exactly two years later, actually two years and nine days that I returned to the scene of the crime. On my drive into town, I dove down Concord Turnpike towards downtown. Nothing much appeared to have changed during the two years that I had been away. When the road leveled out I passed a number of cars and trucks seemingly parked on the side of the road and then I discovered my mistake, the railroad crossing in the industrial area just before you hit downtown. While turning around and pulling up behind the last vehicle was an option, the line I had passed was long and the train appeared to be just going back and forth as in it was maneuvering or adding carts. Google told me there was a work around and I went back up the hill at the crossing on Winston Ridge Street to Winchester Street. This was an adventure in itself. It was an area I had never seen before, hilly, woody and as some may describe it, definitely on the other side of the tracks.

But finally I made it downtown. Not much had changed there either. The perpetual construction was still ongoing as I made my way to the hotel. Then I noticed that one of the restaurants changed from Mexican to Japanese, interesting. Arriving at the hotel I also noticed that the road that was previously one way was converted to two way traffic, again. So things do change over time. Parking was still valet but now there were plastic sheets at the check-in counter between the guests and the persons that check you in. I do not think it was bullet proof, and not even sure how virus proof they were; when I hung my clothes hanger on it with my shirts, the darn thing moved a few inches.

I had a rough time that day. The morning we had to put our dog to sleep, after he had been my (our) faithful companion for over 13 years. Then I had to drive to this place, at times tearing up or at least with my eyes still burning. Then to think this was a two year’s anniversary of sorts; a return to the scene of the crime. So I needed to celebrate or was it commiserate? At least one microbrewery had sprouted up in the two years I had not been in this town. It was within walking distance, so here I went!

Three Roads Brewing Company in an old car dealership.  They had some decent beers a gal behind the bar who was a good listener and a puppy that came to visit that I was allowed to pet.  It was within walking distance from my hotel.

Ok, ok, what place am I writing about? Lynchburg! It was two years ago, when I came out of Lynchburg when the Governor told us that we were going on a 30 days quarantine for COVID. Yes, I have been teaching in the classroom since early February, this return after almost exactly two years felt so auspicious. I was troubled by the death of Jake, my trusty dog, and it still bugs me. I have Jasper and I love him to death, but still. I guess I am just getting old and sentimental. Oh well.

Despite all its faults, like Liberty University and its related conservatism (every Republican wannabe presidential candidate will visit that university), I really like the area, the downtown, etc. It is pleasant to teach there together with a colleague who lives in town and to meet old friends who I have taught and interacted with for 13 plus years.

In the two years Liberty has had some fun. I have written a lot about the sexual repression at the university, about my secret voyeurism when sitting at Starbucks watching young girls studying the Bible, and of course about Jerry Falwell, Jr.’s escapades in cuckoldry (at least that is what I think it is). I understand he is currently suing the University, or maybe it is settled, I am really not following it that much. I am just amazed or fascinated by the fact how hypocritical a lot of the conservatives and religious folks are. I guess they are human too.

As you can see, a lot of thoughts and feelings came flooding back to me two years after my last visit. My return to the scene of my “last crime” was not as much fun as I had hoped it would be, because of my depression about Jake, I explored too little and drank too much that first day (my poor liver and brain). But still, it is worth documenting.

The Virginian Lynchburg a Curio Hotel by Hilton.  Here I am in the lobby and you can see the plastic sheets.  Very friendly staff, I really like this place.  The doorman told me I looked like Einstein; what else do I want?  All hotels photos were taken to mimic Hopper's work. 

Me in my room.  My only complaint was the view: walls and a tiny sliver of sky and across the street.

On the road again (Hotels 3: Virginia Beach) (2/22/22)

One year and eleven months ago after returning from a teaching gig in Lynchburg the then governor and the department I work for decided that we should temporarily shut the office, stop all traveling, and start teleworking. We were completely in la-la land about COVID or the Corona virus, and figured this would be temporary, maybe till June or at worse, September. Ah, little did we know.

So, after teleworking and teaching online we decided that 2022 was going to be the year that we were going back into the classroom. And there came Omicron: We had to cancel January classes. Again, email student the sorry emails and reschedule everything, from hotels to meeting rooms, etc.

One of the things I was looking forward to, was returning to real live teaching. Remarkable as that may be for an introvert like me, it is not a thing about being around people, but more about being able to read their facial expressions and get live feedback. These interactions are invaluable compared to talking to a Webcam.

Finally, live teaching started in February. I became the proverbial “canary in the coal mine,” I was going to try it out for the rest of us. Well, I now have taught four live classes and honestly these classes were exhausting but exhilarating. So maybe I am not an introvert? I really don’t know any more. I enjoyed the one on one so much more than the web-based classes. Maybe it’s just the format; colleagues of mine tell me that since our recent switch to Zoom things have gotten a lot better. Zoom allows you to turn on and view the webcam of your students and makes it more personable. That is of course if the students are willing to share their camera. However, the format that I had been using was not very personable and you have to rely on typed questions in a question box which do not allow for a free- flowing discussion. In addition, you don’t see people’s faces and really cannot have a good follow up discussion. During breaks you cannot have any personal interactions with folks.

Overall though I was good to be able to directly interact with folks. It was just much easier to respond to questions and to enter into fun deep discussions.

Then finally the travel. While somewhat scary to be on the road again; my father-in-law recently survived COVID and I do not need to be afraid of bringing it home. I assume I would survive an infection (knock on wood). Eating out is kind of fun again, although I need to watch out for my waistline again. I have been the main cook at home during these past two years of COVID and I am slowly running out of inspiration. I always told folks that I love to cook, I never thought it would get old, but somehow it does. It is nice to eat something different and sample different flavors to bring home and try them out here. Variety is the spice of life, or so they say.

I watch some different TV, drink a beer and just relax in my motel room. So, what’s not good about it? Maybe sleeping in a strange bed; loneliness, although I don’t mind eating alone; and the drive after teaching a whole day will get old after doing it a few times. Who knows?

My third photograph in the Hopper tradition (little did I know it would take such a long time for the third one).  This was taken in Virginia Beach at the Holiday Inn.  You can see the Atlantic Ocean in the background (Marocco or Portugal over the horizon).

Living in the moment (12/19/2021)

Each year, around this time of the year I seem to write a post where I review what happened in the world and in my life during the past year. I gave 2020 the proverbial middle finger for contributing COVID, my house arrest and tRump at his best. But what did 2021 bring us, or do I even want to write about it?

It is my understanding that the Buddhist are very strong believers of living in the moment. Living in the moment or not dwelling over the past and not being anxious over the future.

Dwelling over the past. My thesaurus tells me that the word dwell also means inhabit or live. This will age me, but it reminds me of one of my favorite Jethro Tull albums and associated tune “Living in the Past.” Part of the lyrics go like this:

Now there's revolution
But they don't know
What they're fighting
Let us close our eyes
Outside their lives
Go on much faster
Oh, we won't give in
We'll keep living in the past
Oh, we won't give in
Let's go living in the past
Oh no, no, we won't give in
Let's go living in the past

Damn, here I go again on a tangent, don’t I? Not really, the Album Living in the Past came out in 1969 and this part of the lyrics can apply to the much of the January 6th insurrection we saw. Those folks did not know what they were fighting for, and I am sure they still do not! They think they did, but was that really what was behind it all? A red-haired wannabe dictator who only cares about himself and maybe his rich cronies as long as they adore him, otherwise he’ll throw them under the bus. He somehow was able to whip up the masses with some popular ideas, but he doesn’t give a damn about them. The perfect demagogue, Mussolini, Stalin, Castro, etc. all in one person.

So yes, maybe it is better for me to live in the past, the times before we lost our innocence, and the country elected this red-haired wannabe dictator? Or should I focus on living in the moment? Boy what a conundrum.

This past year I have been very anxious about the future, my aging, and our environmental future as you can conclude from my blog posts. So, what remains? Yes, I better live in the moment, otherwise I’ll turn into a complete wreck!

But no, we can learn from the past and come to terms with it. I am still trying to do that in my personal life at times, although I think it is working most of the time. Regarding the future, I still need to plan, maybe try to lose those few pounds, my 2022 travel and teaching schedule, eventual retirement, and yes keep fighting for the environment and future generations. I wrote a post about bonsai work and how it is all based on long range planning (actually it was a political post, turned bonsai post, but as regular readers you know how my strange mind twists). So, living in the moment does not mean just sitting here staring at my belly button a.k.a. my computer. I want to try to make every moment count and live life to the fullest; enjoy it.

So maybe my next post will be a yearend review, although maybe not; I think I did a pretty good job at it here today.

I took this photo mid-November of my desk (top).  It is iconic for the year, I suppose.  Working from home and some of my (tropical) plants, inside for the winter months.  It is definitely not my Richmond office; they don't allow live plants there.

The After Life (4/9/2021)

It has been a little over a year now that all hell broke loose. The now so dreaded Corona virus. We thought it would be a few months when we were told to shelter in place, but here we are, vaccinated and still teleworking, masked when we go out, forever changed. If there ever was a time that we lost our innocence it was this past year.

I read an article in the New York Times on where we to go now: post pandemic. My question is whether we are currently really post pandemic. The Spanish Flue took two years to resolve. Variants are popping up all over the place. However, it really made me think what this year did to me personally, in my relationships with others and in my outlook to the future.

I am happy to report that no one in my direct circle has died of COVID. I know of a few who have contracted the disease. A close friend Chuck who told me he and his wife got it between Christmas and New Year. A colleague of mine got it too. Her husband brought it with him when he visited his father in South Carolina. Thank goodness both just lost their taste and got sick and tired. Unlike with some, their only long-lasting effect seemed to have been the loss of taste and smell. I did hear of friends of friends whose relatives died of COVID, but none too close to me.

How did I change over this past year? For those of you who have been following me, 2020 has been my least productive blog year since I started this blog in 2013. Was I hoping to ever becoming an influencer (reviewing Virginia wineries, breweries, scenic areas, giving lectures and talks), making money and retiring on easy street with this blog? That hope evaporated last year. Only 19 posts, not as many hits as I would hope, and as I mentioned before, I would first need to allow advertising on my blog, something I never have.

So what was the reason? COVID depression? I do not think so; I became more introspective during that year of self-isolation. I tried to stay away from politics although it was difficult especially during an election year, after the killing of George Floyd, and with a virus and election denier like the former occupant of the Whitehouse in power. Not being originally from the U.S. and socially conscious, I ate this all up, but again, I tried not to bore too many of you all with my political views. The result, only 19 posts. Just before Christmas last year, I promised I would write more. However, guess how many post I wrote in March this year. Zero!

What happened the year of COVID and will it change me forever? I really threw myself back on my bonsai hobby. I did not watch more T.V.; I did a little more reading. I still have not finished the book “Overstory”; I pick it up, read it and put it down. I love it, but it is depressing at the same time. I did read the book “Rage” by Bob Woodward. Assuming it was well researched, I found it eye opening, well written and it basically enforced all my political views.

I watched bonsai YouTube channels, almost every evening. COVID depression, right? Alternatively, was it bonsai depression? No such thing, bonsai for me is very important nowadays. Currently, my bonsai trees are my form of therapy or meditation. I walk by my trees at least two or three times a day, examine them closely, and watch the progress. That tree has put out another leaf, oh look what is happening here or there. I am in love with this tree or that one! Finally, after a year of isolation with YouTube and my trees, I finally have the audacity to think that I can design a credible bonsai, know how to take care of them, and to advice someone when they ask a bonsai question on Facebook. This is quite the accomplishment after 33 years of dabbling in the hobby and studying it even longer than that.

I built this bench this past summer and I think I still do not have enough room for my trees.  In the foreground is a privet that I transplanted into this training pot this year.

How else have I changed, or how will I go on post COVID, if there is such a thing? I think I will value my friends more, and ignore those who do not agree with me. Value nature and the environment. I still remember so well how clean and clear the air was in May and June last year when there were so many fewer cars on the road. My wife still hopes I am kidding when I tell her that my next car will be a Tesla or maybe some other electric vehicle. She is a huge environmentalist as well; however, still a bit skeptical about electric vehicles, their range and their capabilities.

For the rest, I need to take care of myself, mentally and physically. During the past year, I lost approximately 10 lbs. This is still not enough in my eyes. I would like to lose another 10. Somehow, I have plateaued (or is it bottomed out?). Walking on average 80,000 steps or more per week according to my Fitbit, appears not to be enough. I need to do more, live healthier. The husband of a friend was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, the uncle of my wife recently died at the age of 76, and a dear neighbor was found dead on his doorsteps, a heart attack in his late 70s. All too young; I have this fear that the day I retire I will die of some weird disease or get diagnosed with cancer and have weeks or months to live. Never able to enjoy the fruits of my long (illustrious?) career. In other words, retirement is on my mind. As you know, my last post mentions how much I enjoy my job, teaching and retirement weighs heavy on me. Oh well, hopefully I am not damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

COVID-19 Vaccine (02/25/2021)

I had my second COVID vaccination this week. Let me tell you it felt great. Actually it did not hurt, and psychologically it felt great too, knowing that I will be somewhat protected. I felt particularly good knowing that I was helping protecting others as well. On top of that, according to doctor radio: even if I get it, it seems that these shots should keep me out of the hospital and from getting seriously ill with all those complications. Since the shot was today (as of writing this section) it feels strange, but now I am sitting back waiting to start feeling crappy because of the vaccination; something I am somewhat happy about and looking forward to.

Holding my passport to maybe dining out one of these days.  That is one of those things I have missed the most.  While I like cooking and get bored with all the same restaurant food.  I am almost at my one-year anniversary (March 11) of house arrest.  

We are slowly increasing the number of people who are vaccinated against COVID-19. What amazes me is that there are still people holding out and do not want to get the vaccine. Reasons abound; the mother of a friend of our daughter is waiting for the Johnson and Johnson vaccine while her 80 or so heart patient husband is not vaccinated, as well. She does not trust the RNA vaccine. Others you hear tell folks that they do not deserve it since they are younger than others who are still waiting. It also seems that that many minority neighborhoods don’t have access to the vaccine; no CVS, or whatever is needed to distribute it.

While the lack of minority vaccinations is a different clear symptom of the racial and economic injustice, the former is pure ignorance and stupidity. Folks should realize that anyone who gets vaccinated is one less person who can potentially infect someone else. Moreover, there is one less person in whom the virus would be able to mutate and create or form a new variant. As we are seeing, variants like those from South Africa, Brazil and England are scary, more virulent, and might not sensitive to the vaccine. These variants are able to continue killing folks, maybe even at larger numbers. This is what herd immunity is all about and the drive to get as many people vaccinated as quickly as possible. In other words, you should not feel guilty that you get the shot while someone else who might be more deserving still has to wait. Again, we want herd immunity and everyone helps. By being vaccinated, you slow down the spread and reduce the chance on mutations.

So yes, I am happy I am getting my shots and contributing to herd immunity and help protecting other folks who have not yet gotten their shots.

The end of an error? (1/21/2021)

 Well, we finally got rid of the red faced dictator today (this was written yesterday).  It felt good.  We celebrated with binge watching, champagne, and pizza.  The little dictator snuck out off town like a defeated looser.  Good riddance and let the healing begin.

Us toasting to the swearing in of the new president.  Folks have asked me what happened to my mask.  I had just given the champagne glasses to the wife and her father and returned to put the bottle in the fridge.  On my way back from the fridge I had take a sip when my wife asked me to come over for a selfie.  I forgot to pull my mask back up.  Sorry no overt message here!  (Photo by my wife).

Yes, I understand that these are no healing words that I just typed.  I am sorry, I should be kinder.  I promise that I will, start trying in my next post, or just a little later in this one.  But it feels so good to get rid of this liar, this narcissist, this con-man; I can go on.  It is just such a shame that there are still so many people that believe him and blindly follow him.  I was listening to a podcast from the New York Times yesterday called "the Daily" where they talked about the Trump followers and what they think and would do now.  In interviews some mentioned succession.  Others mentioned that when they saw strangers they now wondered whether they were Republican or Democrats.  Truthfully, I have wondered that sometimes as well, especially at the beginning of COVID when you saw people without face masks.  I wrote about it here, although that was more about their preexisting conditions.

So yes I sincerely hope we can, as Biden put it, start living like neighbors and not like enemies or adversaries.  Neighbors can have their differences but can talk it out and come to a compromise. 

Well, where to go from here.  I promise that in future my blogs will return to "normal" or to what I have always intended for this blog: a reflection of me; my travels (through the state) when that starts again; my photography (I will soon be getting a new Samsung Galaxy S21 Ultra, which should be loads of fun ... a 160 MP camera); my bonsai, my love of nature and the environment; and finally my love of teaching and training.  I will most likely sprinkle an occasional gripe about politics in there, especially when it impacts these loves or other personal things, but I promise I will try to get of my political soap box.  

But damn, that champagne tasted good. 

Are we living on a movie set? (1/17/2021)

Oh wow, 2021 is starting out with a bang. Here I thought it could not get worse. We are setting record after record CORONA virus cases and deaths, and we are coming off a week where we had a coup attempt. tRump is quickly becoming the mass-murdering chief! The proud boys, skin heads, neo-Nazis, Q-anons, and other right wingnuts attacked the capitol in Washington DC to stop the certification of the election. As my wife commented on the 6th: “It feels like we are living in a movie.”

I am going to make this short, but I am just hoping that this week’s events will be peaceful and that we can get rid of this failure of a president, this demagogue, who somehow has been able to convince somewhere around 30% of the people that he is the next coming of whatever, the chosen one. I am still amazed how he was able to convince these folks he was special, instead of a charlatan. But then Hitler was able to do the same. 

I just watched a video where Arnold Schwarzenegger, the ex-governor of California and body builder, former citizen of Austria, compared it to Crystal Nacht in Germany. As he mentioned that night in 1937 the German “Proud Boys” rioted and broke a lot of windows in Jewish establishments in Germany. This was really the start of Hitlers fascist reign. Something to be proud of, eh boys? 

All I know is that we live in anxious times. There is a large group of people that are hell bend on stopping the change in leadership of our country. They have been whipped up by the current occupant of the White House and his cronies. I just hope that the next few weeks, or four years will be uneventful. All I can do is blog, express my feelings, and when it gets too much, I go out into the woods to destress and forest bathe. The other thing I can do is work for what I believe, just like what those violent folks are doing; however, I will be doing it in a peaceful way for democracy, social, economic, racial and gender equality. I will be doing that through my blog, by the way I live and through my church: the UU.

I took this photograph a few days ago at my favorite pond behind my home during a lunch-time walk.  Nice to be out and take in nature, meditate and relax!

"Please give me the SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change, the COURAGE to change the things I can and the WISDOM to know the difference!"

20-20 Hindsight (1/5/2021)

Merian Webster defines 20-20 Hindsight as follows: "the full knowledge and complete understanding that one has about an event only after it has happened."

Well some year we have had. I have joked that when the clock strikes midnight on January 1, 2021 we can actually claim 20-20 hindsight.  2020 is finally over!  Although, it might take historians a long time to have a complete understanding of what happened that year.  It has been a wild and crazy one. 

It all stopped for me in March 11.  I was working from home after two days of teaching in Lynchburg  (a bit more about that later), when word came down that the state went in the COVID-19 lock down.  I have not traveled since and been to Richmond twice for a half hour.  I realize that I am fairly egocentric here; however, this is my blog  and I assume you all read and follow the news.

If being locked up wasn't bad enough, we had to do this under Donald tRump, the now expected temporary occupant of the Whitehouse.  I think in hindsight (there is that word again) he was completely unprepared, uninterested and unwilling to deal with the Corona virus.  I read Bob Woodward's book (Rage) on the subject, and it is amazing.  tRump was only interested in the end of the impeachment trial, the upcoming reelection, and the stock market.  More and more were we seeing how he was trying to undo anything Obama had done and literally screw up this country.

And then we got the murder of George Floyd.  The shit hit the fan and it lit the country on fire (in addition the the wildfires that were raging in the west).  tRump proved that he really was without empathy and he could only call for law and order.  In addition to being without empathy, tRump also proved he was without religion and obviously analphabetic, holding the bible upside down, while grandstanding in front of a church in Washington.  Speculations are that his law and order stance is what eventually would be the reason he lost the elections (but historians will be the better judge of that).  But now at the beginning of the new year, he is still fighting the outcome of the elections.  I think one thing is for sure: history will not be kind to the tRump presidency.  He ran this country like his company.  Into the ground, bankrupting it, morally and financially.

On a more personal level, my past couple of posts have been more introspective about my so called house arrest under the Corona virus.  I wrote about my teleworking and my lack of inspiration lately; however, my mind and body have been busy.  We restored our deck this summer and that was a huge job.  I split a large oak by hand for our wood stove.  Of course, I also spent a lot of time with my bonsai. I did a lot of reading and thinking.  

One thing that fascinates me is moral and religious hypocrisy.  This is something that is sorely missing in the current Whitehouse, with a lot of political leaders and with a lot of religious leaders.  Politically, we encountered Lindsey Graham after Ruth Bader Ginsburg died or Ted Cruz who after all the abuse he, his wife and his father got from tRump still happily defends him, hoping to gain politically.

On a personal level I was fascinated by Jerry Falwell and his downfall from Liberty University in Lynchburg, the last place I visited before lockdown.  I wrote about Falwell and the university in this post.  It was uncovered that good old Jerry enjoyed watching his wife having sex with other (younger) men.  He was supposedly sitting in a chair next to the bed, enjoying his private porn show.  I have not seen reports on whether he was dressed or not, and what else he was doing at the time (I want to bet that he wasn't reading the newspaper).  It seems that there are quite a few men in healthy marriages who enjoy this type of relationship either as a way of being humiliated (for lacking something somewhere) or just the joy of sharing.  This is an interesting article on the subject.  In other words, I am not condemning it; I am condemning Jerry's hypocrisy.  So yes, it fascinates me that someone at the head of such a prominent religious institution who claims to be the north star of the moral compass has his or her human quirks that eventually bring them to their knees.  To think that all the conservative politicians would visit Jerry and Liberty U. to get their blessing, and that students would need to stay celibate, while Jerry had his private porn show, curtesy of his wife.  

The hypocrisy of it all.  But then I read that Joel Osteen is so filthy rich that finally his flock is seeing right through him and some are abandoning him.  The poverty we have thanks to tRump, COVID, his tax cuts for the wealthy and running the economy into the ground, while these mega-church pastors, University and company presidents are getting richer and living the life!  Lines at food banks are longer than ever, and Jerry got a severance package worth a few million.  But our millionaire politicians can only come up with $600 for the regular folks, which does not even cover the rent. You get the message: hypocrisy abound in 2020.

Well folks some year it has been.  Let us not look back too long, but hope for a better tomorrow.  Happy New Year!

Water (12/29/2020)

It was Rachel Carson who wrote: “The edge of the sea is a strange and beautiful place.” Who am I to disagree? Having lived and grown up in the vicinity of the sea from my third through my sixteenth birthday and spending almost every day in it, I fully agree with her. I even have photographs of me as an infant at the shore of Lake Tanzania (or Lake Tanganyika as it was called in those days) one of the largest natural lakes in Africa. Technically that was not a sea, but you cannot see the opposite shore. Even later in Holland between my 16th and 22nd birthday, I was never far away from the water (those Dutch canals) or ocean. For the past 20 years I have lived on the Chesapeake Bay and have the almost daily illusion that when I am in Yorktown and look east, I actually have an unobstructed view of the Atlantic Ocean and thus can look all the way to Portugal or thereabouts. As a sailor I know I am wrong, because leaving Yorktown at the 90-degree compass bearing I would sail straight into Cape Charles on Virginia’s Eastern Shore, and never make it to the actual ocean.

This photograph was taken in August 2020 in Yorktown looking east!  Portugal I see you! (not).  But you get the picture, that is why I like living here. 

I often wonder what my attraction to the ocean or water is? I always blamed some form of claustrophobia, like the need to see the horizon. In fact, I grew up being able to see the horizon. On a clear day we could literally see the coast of Venezuela from our home some 60 kilometers (40 miles) away. Accounting for the curvature of the earth we actually saw the peaks of the coastal mountain range. This was especially spectacular at night, when the mountains got hit by thunderstorms and you could see the lightning. Pretty cool for us living on a more desert like island. But even in the Netherlands where I moved when I was 16, you can easily get to places where you can look to infinity.  Holland or the western part of the Netherlands, where I lived, is as flat as a pancake, and you can see for miles, even when not standing on a shore. 

The most miserable place I ever lived was Durham, North Carolina (sorry guys). This was probably because we lived in a rental and because we knew that it was only for three months. We lived there in the mid 1980s next to a racist who would stand in his front yard with a gin and tonic at 10 am complaining to me about those n...... But to me it was also because I could never get my bearings; too many trees, no horizon, I felt closed in. I really never knew where I was. Nepal, Yemen, Uganda all gave me a chance to look as far as I wanted.

Even living in New Mexico where I did not have to deal with claustrophobia. There were no trees in the desert, or when there were I could look around them and look far.  I absolutely loved it. But still, getting to the big lake called Elephant Bute in the Rio Grande was something spectacular to me. Open water! I wrote three posts about our visit to Newfoundland, and boy there again, the coastal areas were a delight. Oh, and coastal Scotland but then the single malt really helped too in my love affair with that country and its coast. 

Maybe, except for the single malt, what do all these experiences have in common? Water, oceans, lakes, and horizons. What does it tell you or me about me? I really do not know. That my body is comprised of something like 70 or 80% H2O? That I, like every regular human being, need to drink 8 glasses of water to survive or at least be healthy. Maybe that that like every one of you I have evolved from some lifeform that originally lived in water, especially that interface between water and shore? Getting back to Ms. Carson, that interface between ocean and land is beautiful and sometimes frightening. The area where the waves crash the algae, seaweed, oysters, crabs, etc. In evolutionary times those first creatures that ventured out of the waves onto the shores (plants, animals, etc.) to see if they could survive there. 

The horizon probably signifies my wander lust.  Not that I am any way like them, but I am sure that is what attracted the great explorers like Columbus, Cook or even Darwin.  They had the urge the discover what was over the horizon; new things to see, to experience.   More and more do I havve the need to see what is over the horizon and I cannot believe that I live in this house for more than 20 years.  Here I am couped up in it for almost a year thanks to COVID-19. I need to study these feeling and the deeper reasons behind them a bit more. 

One thing I do know is that we need to take care of our water. Water, clean water is so essential to us all, and it seems that we are forgetting this. On my daily walks I still see piles of dog shit around that people refuse to pick up. I observe litter all over the place. A lot of this, if not all of it, will be ending up in our surface water and pollute it. We need to take care of our water folks; it is all that we have. This is the only planet that we have, that our kids have and our grandkids.

I need to write more (12/22/2020)

Usually and the end of the year, or sometimes at the beginning of the new year I take stock of what happened during the year that has just gone by. Well’ I am not sure if this is my definitive blog for 2020, but I somehow feel like writing and excusing myself for not writing as much as a should, have been in the past, etc.

I am finding that it is more difficult to be creative after having to be creative for my job day-in, day-out and having to create on-line classes that keep people’s interest. In addition, being stuck at home and looking from my perch is somewhat boring and I do not get the inspiration that I usually get from traveling, listening to the radio and meeting people. Do I have the COVID blues? I do not know, but look at the graph below and you can see what funk I am in in my blogging (the 17 includes today’s blog). 

Previously, I wrote about inspiration in which I debunked this idea of not being inspired or not having a creative mind (somehow, the illustration was lost). Therefore, I cannot blame it on that. Am I depressed? Not really, in the sense of the word. Maybe slightly depressed, but I think we all are in a bit of a funk having that Sword of Damocles (the sword of COVID) hanging above our head on that tenuous string. When will I get it or a loved one, like my almost 94-year-old father-in-law get it? And how will I or they react to getting it? Yes, I can finally say that people in my direct orbit have gotten COVID. One survived; she reported that when her husband brought home her favorite ice-cream, it just tasted wet and cold. Esther, the 90 year-old (ex?) girlfriend of my father-in-law who has Alzheimer is currently in the hospital with COVID. We fear the worst. But by now, we are all waiting until it is our turn to get the vaccine, at least when you are not an anti-vaxxer.

What is my daily routine like? I usually wake up around 6:20. After getting dressed, I put on the coffee and get the newspaper with the dogs. They get their morning snack when we come back in, and we read the paper. Then it is breakfast and a dog walk, followed by “hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to the office we go” and that is just one flight of stairs away. Coffee around 10:30 and lunch at 12. We walk the dogs again, and I may spend a few minutes out back with my trees (bonsais). Back to work, which is interrupted by coffee around 3. I usually quit around 4:30 and take a shower. The shower is a great ritual for me to end the work day. Then it is time to make dinner and settle down for the evening. Boring isn’t it? Thank goodness, I still enjoy cooking, and at least once a week, the monotony is broken up by the need to bake bread. Baking bread requires more frequent trips down the stairs to fold the dough and to do something to it (“hey Google, set the timer for a half hour”).

COVID weekends are not any more exciting. One of the days is a dog park visit (Waller Mill in Williamsburg) and a walk in the woods (one of three trails). If the weather is good, we may stop for a brief visit for a beer at one of the microbreweries (usually the Brass Cannon, we sit outside of course). The other day is spent around the home. It is all very inspirational and I am sure, something many of you also spend your COVID year. Listening to my colleagues during our staff meetings that is about right.

So how should I get my writing mojo back and again write at least 30 posts per year? Maybe for next year I just need to take a word out of the dictionary and write a blog post around it. Just what comes to mind, but that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? At least now, I still have room to write my review of 2020.

From high on top of my perch (12/10/2010)

From high up my perch, there is the Amazon Prime guy, again. No, not for us. For the folks across the street. Not that we do not spend our money there. Heck, we are bleeding Amazon money, but not today. My wife even yelled to me, up the stairs: “Was that for us?” Actually, Alexa would tell us. “Alexa what are my notifications?”

However, I did not want to talk about Alexa or Amazon. I wanted to talk about my roost upstairs, overlooking the road in front of us. At times it is distracting as well as entertaining sitting here looking out of my window.

You get to see a baby blue unmarked construction vehicle with a ladder on the roof, and there goes the Prime vehicle, on its way back out of the neighborhood. People going to work, coming home. You see the regulars, walking their dogs: Bill walking Sophie; the woman walking Chaco; the guys from around the corner walking their what looks like a scotty but much larger; the big guy who collects military vehicles but actually is somewhat meek with his dog; the older lady who first walks her dog and then you see her speed walking by. You have your regular runners, the women with strollers, the groups of women trying to exercise and lose weight (I think). There is a (I think retired) couple who walk by every afternoon hand-in-hand, she is about 2 or 3 inches taller than he is. I also see people walk about 10 homes and walk back and I think: “is that all.”

You have a few individuals, but I suspect they have some social anxiety. Not bad, but it took a long time for them to even acknowledge me when I was outside and met them on my (or our walk). Especially one gal, she walks straight like an arrow, her arms cocked and really out to get some exercise. She is fun; you can sometime catch her and her husband shooting bow and arrow in their back yard. The other day I watched them throwing knives and axes.

Then there are cyclists. In the morning, there are often two cyclists on recumbent bikes. These two do not live in the neighborhood, but it is safe to bike here. I know they do not live here because they are members of the yacht club we belong to, and I know where they live. While typing this I have already seen two others bike by. The fun part is the kids from two houses down. They love to bike. But, the minute I step out off the front door, they race home, throw their bikes on the front lawn and run in the house. My wife and I are known as extremely liberal and these kids’ parents are T-party conservatives (Q-anon?). I wonder if the kids were told to watch out for us because we eat kids? I always smile at them and wave. You get the picture.

Finally, you have my favorite: Felicity. Felicity is pregnant; she walks her Great Dane: Bruce, who is a friend of our dog. When Bruce escapes from his home or yard, he comes to visit us, to play with Jasper out dog. Felicity has four kids already and you know she is coming by when you see some of her sons on a little bike coming by. They herald her and Bruce. Felicity and gang will sometimes stop over to talk and play in our yard, which is a welcome distraction from teleworking and looking at a computer screen. No cannibalistic fear here! Oh well, just some musing while looking out of the window. But now I have to go downstairs; the mail lady just delivered a (Christmas?) package.

There goes Felicity and Bruce.  I was prepared and knew they were coming by because there were little boys on small bike that  came by heralding her imminent appearance.  (photo was taken on November 16 when I still have leaves on the trees, now a month later it is all bare).

Strange days indeed (11/17/2020)

Strange days indeed. That is all I can say. The current occupant of the White House, the orange haired guy, lost the election the Joseph R. Biden, but he does not want to concede and it looks like he is using a very blunt ax to go nuts with the government. He is firing folks, giving away the Arctic Natural Wildlife Refuge and doing other foolish things. It seems he does not care about the Corona Virus, which he claimed would magically disappear after the election, and now he spends more time on the golf course. Strange days indeed.

A large portion of this country laughed, cried, and celebrated. It was the Saturday after the election which was partially caused by the corona virus. Folks were afraid to show up at the polls and voted absentee, by mail, or early. However, they voted in huge numbers. More than ever, strange days indeed.

I do not want to make this a long post, but I want to add my 5 cents to history and my blog. Record what I saw, and what I experienced. I did vote on November 3rd. The main reason was that the State gave us a day off to vote. So, I decided I needed to do it that day. The day was also meant to volunteer during the election, which I did as well. First at my polling place and then later in the day with my wife at a different location. Maybe I was able to help two African American ladies with voting during the entire time that I was helping at the poll. One lost her I.D., for the other it was her first time voting.  My wife encountered one person who was not sure who to vote for. That still amazes me, he must have just emerged from his cave. Strange days indeed.

My wife Donna, at the poll.  She was knitting and actually attracting a lot of onlookers and comments while doing so.

Oh well, I will leave it there, and sign off. I am eagerly awaiting the time that Biden can officially start the transition to his administration and of course for that phone call from the chief of staff with a job offer to join the Biden administration. I am sure that day will never come, but if there was a job for me, I would not refuse; I am very excited about what is to come.  But, it would definitely be a strange day indeed, if that would happen. 

Time for an update (10/11/2020)

Not sure why I have not written in my blog for such a long time. It is not because I am depressed; however, I think I lack the motivation and external stimulation. “What” you may say, most of us are over-stimulated by all the events happening in the news. Let’s look at them all:

• We are looking at hurricane Delta, which is aiming for New Orleans or somewhere around there.
• Trump has COVID-19 and is acting like a baboon. Moreover, it seems that he has become a super spreader and is proud of it.
• Talking about baboons, if you had the stomach as I did to watch the first presidential debate, you know what I mean.  On the other hand you may wish to buy a fly swatter.
• It looks like the entire western U.S.A. is on fire.
• And, let us not forget Jerry Falwell, one of the subjects of a post of mine earlier this year, was fired from Liberty University, in Lynchburg. Best of all, because he enjoyed watching his wife having sex with other (younger) men.

These are just few of the wonderful things going on around us and I am sure there is so much more I can mention, or you can come up with. Maybe I should mention that we have an election coming up. While I am a news junky, when push comes to shove, and it is the end of the day, I just want to veg out and watch a YouTube bonsai show, or play a Sudoku game. I simply forget to update you all about my life. Oh well, my excuses for not keeping you apprised of my life’s events. I telework, and sit behind my computer somewhat around 7 hours every day. The other morning while walking Jasper the dog, one of my neighbors was complaining when I commented what a beautiful day it was. “Who cares, I have to go sit behind my computer for 8 hours,” Ed said. I reminded him that he could always take a break and briefly step away as I do. I water my bonsai, and we eat lunch out on the deck.  Still, I feel depressed at times.  But then, I am not depressed all the time; overall, I am doing ok.  My world has just become very small.  I have been to Richmond twice, and my other trips consist of going to the grocery store and picking up my father-in-law for dinner.  We have our daily walks around the block, and of late we have started going to a dog park in Williamsburg which we sometimes end with a visit to one of the microbreweries.  We choose the on closest to the dog park, that has outdoor seating and is the least known or popular, but has a pretty darn good IPA.

Our regular brewery stop in Williamsburg (the Brass Cannon Brewery).  They make some decent beer and a killer IPA.

So what work things have I been doing since the last time I wrote?  I have developed and presented a few webinars where I talk about soil and vegetation restoration and one about vermin in our stormwater structures.  I have also converted some of my regular classes to web-based classes.  They keep me in touch with the outside world.  On a personal we have kayaked twice, I have hand split a huge oak that had fallen in the neighbor's yard, and redid our deck (almost).  As you should have seen I even did a sermon at church.  So no, I did not sit still.  I just have enough of this, and I can imagine that many do and want to break out, don't care if they get sick and want to believe that jerk in the White House who claims is is less severe than the flu.  But don't get fooled folks, it is a killer.  I'll write ssome more about me and my thoughts soon.

George Floyd or Black Lives Matter (6/1/2020)

I am upset. This country is being torn apart, hijacked by certain people, a noble cause is being drug through the mud, allowing dog whistles to fly.

Let me explain, I am white or Caucasian if you have not figured that one out yet. I was born in the darkest of Africa, the Congo. I often joke that this makes me an African American, although I have a distinct advantage of having a white skin color. I can only imagine what real African Americans go through.  I have actually been subject of reverse discrimination of which I write about here.  I grew up in the Caribbean and had white, brown and black friends. We did not see the difference (and this was in the 1960s). In my adult life, I worked in Africa, the Middle East, Asia, and on a Native American Reservation. Again, it acknowledged to me that we are all the same. We all put on our pants in the morning, one leg at a time. Currently, in front of our home we have a sign that reads “Black Lives Matter.” 

The sign in our front yard.  We got this at our church and we proudly show this in our front yard.  We get people stopping by, who tell us how much they like it.

I have not been blogging much lately, this Covid-19 business has gotten me down, but as you can probable surmise, the George Floyd murder and what is currently happening to this country is really upsetting me. Yes, I am as upset about it as everyone else. While I am against the death penalty, I almost wish the police officer would face a similar penalty: “death by knee strangulation.” What upset me almost as much was the video of one of the police officers quickly looking at the scene and then looking away.

What also upsets me is what followed. I really liked the nationwide demonstrations. They are needed to focus attention on what is happening to the black community and they are needed to bring social and political change. Boy, do we need social and political change (I might write about it later). However, I do not like the looting and the burning of buildings that accompanied it all.

Our church is on the border of a black, somewhat poor neighborhood, and since the outbreak of Covid-19 I think it was burglarized 3 times. In my mind and I have explained it to my wife by telling her that probably these folks cannot or have a hard time getting unemployment or even the stimulus check. To be able to survive they have to go to food pantries, food kitchens or rely on burglary. Case-in-point, the food was stolen out of the fridge at church, in addition to the laptop. So the looting of grocery stores maybe, but fancy sneaker stores, not really. In addition, it seems that there are right-wing agitators in the crowd that maybe egging them on or are really the Molotov cocktail throwers and fire starters. 

It was Dillan Root the white-supremacist Charleston Church killer, who hoped that his killing would “start the revolution.” Other white-supremacists were hoping their action would do the same thing. I am afraid that this is what the agitators are trying to do, assisted by Trump, who is sending dog whistle after dog whistle to his troops and supporters, and the failing Republican Party. We need to go back to peaceful protest and do the following things:

1. Elect Biden as our next president
2. When we do that, make sure that Biden selects a young, dynamic person as vice-president. Because, we all know that Biden will serve for one term and this person will be next. We need a new generation of leaders and thinkers in this country. I am a 66-year-old baby boomer and I realize it is time for new thinkers. Mayor Pete or a younger white or black male or female would be a good choice.  (I used to be a Klobuchar fan, but it seems that she did not prosecute the cop that killed George Floyd for a previous violation when she was the District Attorney).
3. Trow the republicans out of congress and the senate, they are obstructionists and cling to the old ideas of yesterday that don't work and have caused the situation we are in now (the riots and the Corona pandemic).
4. All these protesters should understand what Trump is doing, keep up the demonstrations (peacefully) and they should use the power of their vote to force social and political change. Get people registered and get people to the poles in November. Yes, Trump and his cronies are going to call them socialists or worse communist. Remember, he is in bed with Putin, the real communist dictator.

Self Isolation sucks (4/27/2020)

I am an introvert. At least that is what all the tests tell me. By now in my sixth week of self-isolation I am starting to wonder if I am a charlatan, a master in fooling all these tests and if I am really an extrovert. I am sick and tired of being stuck at home. Yes, I go on daily walks around the neighborhood with my dogs and say hello the regular folks: dog walkers, exercisers and alike, social distancing of course. However, I can still count on both hands how many times I actually left home in my car and mingled among others.

Except for two restaurants take outs and three visits to the hardware store, it seems that the other visits I make are to my local Kroger store (the supermarket). I put on a mask get my Purell and go get bananas for my father-in-law, and while I am there, I might as well do some shopping for our own pantry. In all these stores you get to see people, but even there is no real interaction with these folks. You do not know if they laugh, smile frown, at least if they wear a mask. You avoid everyone like the plague; like ships passing in the dark. With the exception of the one lady who ran a shopping cart into my back and this young kid who could not help all the sudden stop in from of me and then when I passed him he stated coughing and he did not have a mask on. The other day I was struck by the idea, that finally an enterprising sixteen-year-old with a grey wig, a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and a bandanna can finally buy beer at a grocery store with a self-checkout line.

I would say that 50 to 60% of the people at a grocery store or hardware store wear masks, and what amazes me is that most folks that wear masks are either older, which is good, or appear in good physical shape. Walking around these stores I look over the ones that do not wear a mask and many appear to be in their 40s and 50s and heavily overweight; struggling to walk. I cannot help thinking: “another dead man or woman walking.” If they do not have diabetes or heart trouble, they will soon have it and that is the population most affected by Covid-19.

But back to the extrovert introvert controversy. I like my solitude, being alone strolling along in nature in the woods; but I do miss that human interaction, the human touch, the exploring of new things. That is what I am missing after 6 weeks. Yes, I have my wife at home, but that is not enough. Introverts do like to be among humans, but it tires them out after a while, after which they need to recharge somehow by solitude. But solitude is different than being alone. Solitude is good, alone is not (I wrote about that in this post). I am wondering how many people are alone, these days; even when they are living with others.

Solitude is where you find solace. I find my solace from being with my bonsais, from walking in the woods, being out in nature, sailing, blogging, or even .just driving the backroads, all activities I do in solitude or that I can do with my wife. The problem is I have not been sailing much, for my blogging I need to get out and experience life, and self-isolation is not conducive to that or to aimlessly driving the back roads. While I can still enjoy retreating in the woods, I usually do not seek solace there. I do it because I am an introvert, a naturalist, a lover of nature and because of my nature deficit disorder. However, at times, I definitely have retreated into the solitude of the woods when I was sad and worried, in search of solace. But of late it is my little trees where I get lost in and dream about how to develop them, watching them as every leaf come out.

This is an azalea that I dug up from our yard last year.  It was planted by the previous owner more than 20 years ago.  It never bloomed, was abused by deer and was less than 5 inches tall.  This is the second spring in this pot and it is awarding me with this blossom.  After flowering it is training time for this plant.   

So how is your first pandemic going? (3/30/2020)

So how is your first pandemic going? At least for many of us it is, unless you are 102 years old and reading this darn blog, and if you do, you are out of your mind. I guess I am not counting HIV, SARS, Ebola and whatever else we had between 1918 and now. I am not telling you that those were not severe, but this one eats the cake. 

I have been social distancing for two weeks and a couple of days now. At least I get to see my wife at the end of the day. When I walk the dog, I get to see the regular folks walking down the street, and we greet each other from a distance. I also get to say hello to my coworkers every day during our check-in. This weekend we had a virtual dinner date with friends where we sat down on “WhatsApp” and had dinner together. Then we had a Zoom church service and a Zoom church meeting afterwards. While fun, rewarding and satisfying, nothing beats a one on one meeting with friends or colleagues. So, euphemistically, I will keep calling it house arrest. 

So how else do I cope with it all? I noticed that I am reading more. I am really enjoying a book entitled “The Invention of Nature, Alexander von Humboldt’s new world” by Andrea Wulf. I have increased my time on the social networks, watch more bonsai video podcasts and while in the beginning I did watch more news, that has diminished somewhat over time. I know the drill now, I know it will be a matter of time we are all going to get Covid-19, or the Corona virus. 

Why am I so certain about catching the darn virus? I think it is unavoidable. I just hope that I don’t catch it when the virus is at its peak, and I need to fight someone for a ventilator. I also hope that when I get it, they figured out what the medicine is to treat it, or maybe that they have developed a vaccine. Lastly, viruses that don’t mutate very fast, and this one does not seem to do that, are supposed to lose their potency or virulence after some time; that is after replicating in other people’s body over and over. In other words, the famous flattening of the curve. But enough of that. I want to report how my life in the pandemic is going. 

It was nice this week to be able to get out twice. I quickly ran out to mail two letters, get fertilizer for my bonsais and medicine for Jake the dog. It was nice to see people in real life, let me tell you. The second time was to take my father-in-law to the ophthalmologist. I stayed in the car but managed to sneak away to the Starbucks drive through for a cup of coffee. A real treat after two weeks without a Starbucks visit! It felt awkward to drive; the roads were relatively empty, except of course the drive-through at Starbucks. I think it took me 10 or 15 minutes to get through it. But it was worth it. 

Finally!  My first store bought Starbucks in a cardboard cup in two weeks!  I missed that face so much.

At home, life has changed; I have graduated from weekend cook to almost fulltime cook. I bake bread whenever I think it is needed. In the past it was mostly on Fridays. I am now the main dog walker and do not have any issue getting my daily 10,000 steps in. 

The latest bread I made: an 80% biga bread.  We are really enjoying this one.

While as a boy from the tropics I do like the heat, I don’t like it that it is getting warm that quickly, because it means that tick and mosquito season is almost here. It means that our back yard and the woods behind our home are going to be that haven for those pesky critters again. It means either pesticides on your body or no more walks in the woods until sometime in October. No we do not treat our yard, because we have bees. It means walking through the neighborhood with all its excitement as I mentioned in a previous blog post <here>. But truthfully walking in the neighborhood is fun. You learn a lot about talking with your neighbors; you need some social interaction. 

Probably the strangest thing is that I have taken up the routine of showering around 4 pm in the afternoon. It was something my mother used to do, and I am not sure if it is genetically ingrained or why it is. There are not many things that my mother did that I am particularly proud off and would like to mimic. However, it allows us to sleep a little later, get the coffee going and my wife of to work and get my day started. On top of that I always remember overhearing Jo-Jo, a female co-worker of mine in the 1990s telling Kathrine, another female co-worker how she would never allow a man sleep in her bed who had not showered before getting in bed. Moreover, if he blew his nose in the shower (without a tissue I assume), he would be kicked out of the house immediately; I am not sure if she even allowed him to put his clothes on. The idea of getting in bed clean always stood with me; I wonder if that is why my mother did it. But sorry, I do blow my nose in the shower; I know, this is too much information. 

I have cleared this nose in plenty of showers and sinks in my life and will continue doing so.

Oh well, just reaching out to all my readers about my (and your) fucking first pandemic experiences. Are we worried? Not for ourselves as much as for our 93-year-old father-in-law who is getting more and more depressed in self isolation. Hope you are all doing well medically, physically and mentally. Hope you all have enough toilet paper and have not yet killed a spouse, kid, pet or other loved one (canary?). Stay tuned and let me know how things are going with you.