How Not to Do Conversation

Photo credit: "Coffee" by AussieRalph, via Creative Commons

An amusing memory, from back when we sat in coffee shops:

Dear Middle-Aged Dude at the Next Table, 

You are never going to strike up a conversation with me by:

1. Asking me why there are so many feminists "ruining this town."

2. Responding to my brief lament about Florida's appetite for development with, "Well, that's the liberal point of view."

3. Telling me how difficult it is to find a quiet place around here.

On that last point, sir, you have no idea.

Report on a Pandemic

Or, as I'm determined to think of it, a staycation.

Looking at the bright side is one of the things I do best. I'm not a denier. I think I'm more of a realist. Sometimes I'm a bit of a doomsayer. Weird mix, I know. But it works for me.

Going forward, I expect that Florida probably will have lots of cases of Covid-19. In addition to our regular residents, we are a combination of retirees, tourists, snowbirds, and spring breakers. There are plenty of "deniers" in those categories, not concerned for various reasons. Our governor has not moved aggressively to flatten the curve. I think it's going to be bad. My goal is to stay well enough not to have to go to the ER for any reason -- coronavirus, car accident, heart attack, you name it. Right now, it's not where I want to be. Not for myself. Not to take up resources needed by others.   

I've been working from home since last Tuesday. It's not as much of a disruption for me as it is for some people. Most of my workday consists of sitting alone in my office, navigating paperless files, looking up information on the internet, and typing into the computer. Thanks to the ultra-modern approach of the firm's managers, all that can easily be done from home -- minus occasional social interaction with my coworkers, which is something I will miss. I've been emailing them more often, intending to stay connected. It's not unlikely that we will have one of those "virtual happy hours" pretty soon, just to catch up.

My workday is also minus the 3-hour daily commute, which is a mixed blessing. The standard 3 hours includes about 2 hours of solid reading time on the train; missing out on that is the downside. The upside is less exposure. Even when I drive the car, it takes 2 hours and oh, the traffic. Overall, I'd say it's a plus.

One of my tasks this weekend was working up a daily schedule, to make sure I still get everything done. Unstructured time tends to disappear on me, and right now the schedule is pretty much mine for the making. Time for exercise and reading has been scheduled. I hope to rise to this opportunity for a reset.   

My neighbors have had mixed reactions to this threat. My elderly neighbors think it's all a big overreaction. One of them is planning to move and continues to go out every day on various errands associated with packing up her household. I have been cordial but kept my physical distance. My other neighbors are young and have a 2-year-old. They are both bartenders -- and both out of work now, because the bars have been closed. I will be doing what I can to help them. And yet, in our back fence conversation yesterday, guess what they wanted to talk about: How was I doing? Did I need anything? They had plenty of food, if I needed any. Just let them know, okay?       

I also have friends in the medical industry. Two of them are ER nurses, in two separate counties. It is crazy there. Lots of sick people, and not much Covid-19 testing available (there are very specific requirements for who gets tested, and from what I've seen, folks who may have gotten it from community spread won't be tested, so we will never know). There have been few positives among those who are tested -- but supplies are running short. My friends are worried about masks and gloves for themselves and medical supplies, available beds, and equipment for patients.

I haven't been to the grocery store in a week. I wouldn't say that I stocked up last week, but I bought a few extra non-perishables. There were no eggs. There were no plant-based milks, although I managed to get regular milk (which I then gave to a friend who needed it). There was no butter. Canned goods were really picked over and I didn't need any, anyway. I got cornmeal, but flour was pretty much gone. There was plenty of ice cream. I got lentils and some interesting turmeric spaghetti. There was no bagged salad. There were no potatoes or onions. I was able to get apples, oranges, and green, yellow and red peppers. I also splurged on almond-maple nut butter and hooray for that! It is delicious.

Last weekend there was no toilet paper. I just needed it on the regular schedule and was able to get it from Amazon because I didn't want to chase all over town for it. Ditto for a thermometer (I can't believe I didn't have one!). It took Amazon a week to deliver. That made me realize how spoiled I have been by the customary delivery times.

I might have to go to the grocery again eventually -- but it doesn't seem worth risking my life for it or burdening the system anymore than it already is. Friday evening I drove the car around the block to make sure it would still start. Yesterday I went by my local bookstore to pick up a couple of books I'd ordered. Like all small local businesses, they are hurting, so I thought I would support them. They promised curbside service, so I called when I arrived in their parking lot and they brought the books out to me. Then I went to the gas station and filled up the tank. Then I went home and washed the heck out of my hands. The roads were very quiet, compared with the usual Saturday. The grocery store parking lot was full.

As different as things are, I feel I have been prepared by literature for these kinds of changes. I'll save that for another post. 

Meanwhile, spring is happening. I have the windows open (it's warm, but not hot yet). The mockingbirds and cardinals sing enthusiastically, and the cats have plenty to smell and watch. My wild-ish yard is blooming with various volunteer flowers. Life goes on. 

Adventing

I started thinking about the holidays earlier than usual this year.

Maybe it's because for work I created and managed a committee that made a float for the Christmas Parade downtown. It was a big success last Saturday night. Literally 10,000 people crowded the sidewalks to enjoy the show. There were 115 entries this year, most of them floats! It's a huge big deal around here.

Now all I have to do is survive the DeLand St. Johns River Boat Parade and create, give, and grade a final exam, and whoo hoo! I'll be all about the holidays then!

All Hallow's Eve

My little town does a big "Monsters on Main Street" promotion for Halloween. Think main drag blocked off to traffic, candy given away at all the stores, photo ops galore, and hordes of people of all ages thronging the street.

Some of the best sights included a gigantic dragon posing for selfies, a photo station made from a Volkswagon "hippie bus" staffed with a couple of "hippie chicks" from the 60s, and a little girl dressed as a policewoman who was delighted to meet up with an actual policeman (it was mutual).

I didn't make a costume this year (again!), but I enjoyed walking around a bit and just sightseeing.

Before that, though, I thought I'd do a very Halloween-y thing and watch the bats come out. Our little pocket park with its two bat houses sits only a block away from all the festivities. Surprisingly, I was the only person who thought to do this.

Maybe next year I should host a watch party!

Score One for Accuracy

We've been having an incredibly rainy summer. Sometimes it rains in the morning, which is weird for this area. Our usual weather pattern is hot and sunny most of the day, giving the clouds time to build up in the west and sweep overhead with thunder and lightning galore, creating all kinds of excitement for about 15 minutes. This usually happens in the early afternoon (just in time to catch me returning from lunch) or around 3 p.m. (fine by me) or quite often around 5 p.m. (adding an extra dimension to the evening commute). And sometimes it socks in and rains all evening.

Florida is supposed to be water-soaked, so I have no problem with this -- although I have to wonder what in the heck we'll do if we have a hurricane when the river is already at flood stage.

Meanwhile, all these rainy days played havoc with the baseball schedule. The local summer wood bat league has navigated its season and playoffs have begun. I've become more diligent about attending, as the end of the season nears.

Yesterday it rained early and the start was delayed. I went to the ballpark at the usual time, and was literally the only person in the stands for about 15 minutes. Then a few more dedicated spectators appeared, and the announcer felt obliged to let us know what was going on.

"LADY and gentlemen," he said, "tonight's game will begin at 7:15."

A Perfect Storm

I enjoyed finding this powerful confluence of black cat and ladder at my local bookstore. Ink is a charmingly languid docent of the fiction section.

Some Things I Never Expected

Someone once said, "The unexpected is always upon us." I thought it was Soren Kierkegaard, until I tried to Google it and came up empty. Maybe it was Samuel Beckett? It sure doesn't sound like him. So anyway, it's a great thought and I read it in one of my favorite books ever, The Feast of Love.

And that will have to suffice to launch into this list of surprises.

1.  I live in an over-55 manufactured home community. That's a fancy way to say trailer park, I guess. (Thank goodness my mother will never know. She would be horrified.) This was very much a practical move: Kayak Guy's parents retired here many years ago. When I met him, his father lived here; my lease was up soon after his father passed away in 2014, so I moved in. The following year, as we whittled our stuff down from His, Mine, and Dad's into a single Ours household, it made sense to consolidate here rather than adding a 4th household into the mix. We said we'd give it 2 years and see if we liked it here enough to stay.

We're still not 100% sure we'll be here forever. We still feel the alluring call of northern climes, and of life with acreage, and of waterfront property. Time will tell if we have another household on the horizon.

2. There's a lot to like here. I like living in a reasonably sized house that gives us quite a bit of privacy in the back, so we can sit on the porch in our bathrobes and enjoy a nice view onto an undeveloped 5 acre lot. I like that it's difficult to tell these aren't traditional houses. I like the many trees and the birds and critters that pass through the yard, to which we are adding more Florida native plants. I like the relative peace and quiet, balanced with the minor bustle of our historic little town that has a vibrant main street, a college campus, 3 engaging independent bookstores, a baseball team, a locally oriented business community, and a CSA farm. (That's our old courthouse, still used for government offices, in the top picture, and the view overhead in the back yard in the one below.) I like being close to the beach, to our friends, and to good places for our favorite outdoor pursuits. I like having a pool and a hot tub that someone else maintains, and a ready set of pickleball partners for Kayak Guy.

That said, there's a little too much bingo going on around here, if you know what I mean. Many of our neighbors are 20 years older than we are, and less active. And the self-segregation weighs on me once in a while.

2. There are 4 cats in this household. I'm not sure how that happened.

3. I have cognitive dissonance. I love baseball even though I do not love pesticides, fertilizer, and over-watering. And that's only one example of the complexity my brain works with every day.

4. I don't believe in acupuncture, but it works. Thank goodness I discovered our wonderful local community acupuncture clinic, where for $20 I can receive a treatment that makes my migraine go away. Instead of 3 days of agony, I get 60 minutes of resting in a darkened room with a few ultra-delicate needles inserted in key points, and voila. Despite my Western skepticism, all better now.

5. I had a heart attack. During our wedding reception. It made for a really memorable day and I hear it was a great party. Too bad Kayak Guy and I missed almost all of it (including almost all of this dessert buffet) because I was in the emergency room and catheterization lab. But that's a whole 'nother post.