Twenty Twenty Won?

 Only a dozen days left in this year, and quite frankly I am glad! As I hear horrors of the third variant of a pandemic, I yearn for it to truly begone! I cannot will it so, it may never end completely. I am told this last variant has less resemblance to impending lung failure than a common cold. We all know the common cold will never go away! I don’t have to like it, but in it’s commonality I can accept and manage it in the usual ways.

I choose to indulge in the joy of a scaled back holiday. In Texas Hill Country, I can still enjoy bright sunshine through my kitchen windows often. In fact, daytime temperatures have bounced from the forties to a couple of days later, climbing into sunny eighty degrees. Oh how I love that warmth! Most people still sport masks at large indoor gatherings. On my street, neighbors gather for shared dinners and cheer! One couple has led the way to host “dinner in the hood” often. We laugh and discuss events, history, hopes and dreams. I am grateful to be in the midst of these wonderful people. I am reminded of a recent sermon advising that we “love our neighbor”! What’s not to love about these neighbors!? I have truly been blessed in 2021!

I can hope 2022 brings far away family back into more personal space. For now, I will be at peace with mail, telephone and text visits.

I Should Have Seen it Coming

 I just landed smack dab into the end of the third quarter of this year. We are gradually returning to a very few privileges I always took for granted. Constant presence of a mask to put over my face as I enter a building, requesting permission to enter a friends home without wearing it, watching the calendar to determine timing of additional vaccine acceptance, hoping to add my flue shot without conflict. Now that was one long sentence! 

It feels more like I have been “sentenced” to never ending isolation. A few precautions relaxed briefly, are now accepted as an ongoing necessity. A table set for eight previously, now will only seat three or four properly distanced dining companions. A medical appointment includes a temperature check before masked entrance is permitted. I cannot say it is a bad thing to wash our hands often, but who cleans the tops of the hand sanitizer bottles positioned publicly.  I prefer to carry my own small individual bottle. 

This is our new world life. Times change but I will adapt.

2020 Hindsight

One of the worst years I can ever remember is now well behind me. I could provide a list of miseries endured, but that would be rather silly. Everyone I know can share a similarly eventful year. I am not alone in my relief that it is over...or is it! A full quarter of 2021 is crossed off the calendar. I still carry a supply of masks and disinfecting wipes at all times. People we lost far too soon are still gone. Restaurant dining is no longer common. In fact some of my favorite restaurants are gone forever. Meeting in person is still an unusual event. A visit to cheer a hospitalized friend is still taboo. 

Yes, I can see clearly now, at least from eyes without corrective lenses. Surgical removal of cataracts and astigmatism correction allows for reading fine print and street signs easily. Never bothered by bright sunlight, I now appreciate my sunglasses. Appropriately that was in the last week of 2020. Choosing to find joy in all things, and there it is!

Slippery Slopes

I am dealing with a new level of melancholy today. It's not the "Monday, Monday" kind of sadness, but more along the line of "If Tomorrow Never Comes".  Dealing with daily challenges is losing the satisfaction of completion, and I find myself procrastinating often. The holiday season is fast approaching.  I normally would be contemplating Christmas gifts for family and friends, making some of those special gifts and planning events.  None of that holds much promise in the midst of a pandemic. Seasonal parties and family gatherings must be limited in attendance and every precaution must be taken to prevent spread of the dreadful disease.  Prognosticators now are telling us the mask wearing will probably be a permanent condition. That doesn't bother me at all, the mindset that accompanies it, does.  I miss my masked man, at the same time I am truly glad he does not have to endure the constant concern that a weakened immune system would cause for him.  It appears Christmas will be "endured" via zoom or some other video group gathering.  That plan creates an emptiness in my heart that trembles all the way up my spine.  We may never again see the joyful, loving holiday celebrations. If all this personal stress is not enough, we suffer through constant political unrest.  A contentious presidential election flanked by all federal level ballot choices makes my email blow up daily, my phone rings constantly wanting me to participate in a poll or donate some money somewhere in dire need of financial support.  Both sides are needy and vicious. My own family cannot agree on the proper solution, so we must remain silent when in the company of one another. This afternoon a foundation repair company is coming to our rented office to determine the best way to stop the foundation of the building from sliding into that beautiful creek that runs behind us. Now there is an issue I can certainly surrender to someone else. Perhaps I can just sit back and allow the owner of our property to decide how to deal with this. I shall watch from behind my mask, needing to offer no suggestion for resolution. It makes me smile!

Autumn! It’s all about the treats.

 My great aunt M often visited for a few weeks in the summer from her home in the middle of New York. She was an avid birdwatcher, naturalist, hiker and storyteller. In WorldWar II, she served as an army nurse, returning to become a school nurse for the remainder of her working years. She loved the weeks of freedom to travel and we anxiously anticipated her visits. She taught us the value in a smile, the power of a kind word, the peace of silence. When Pappy joined our family, he loved chauffeuring her to reunions with family. He eagerly anticipated her autumn gift of fresh maple syrup! Actually, we all did.

It’s no stretch then to observe my joy when “all things pumpkin“ arrive in a flurry during Indian Summer. Nothing tickles my tastebuds though, as much as that creamy maple flavored ____ you can fill in the blank here. When I found some cookies filled with maple cream, Pappy ate the whole bag and lamented that they weren’t available year round. This morning I sweetly miss both of these people so important in forming my attitudes. My cinnamon toast made with maple butter, ginger peach tea and the smell of pumpkin custard in the oven, are the most glorious reminders of two special people forever dwelling in my heart.

Now here’s the poop!

 Living in the arid rocky hill country is my paradise. Well usually. Yes I love the sunshine, mild winters and blistering hot summers. My most recent dilemma does not relate to the weather I love, though I offer it as justification for living in a community where underground utilities create unique challenges. On a street that offers up and downhill slopes viewed through my kitchen window, drainage of household waste requires assistance. Prior to establishing this residence, we had never lived where conscious thought was even required about where the flush and drain deposits traveled.

Cursory education for new inhabitants involved discussion of the little box on the side of the house. The gadget inside would be the harbinger of malfunction, should our grinder pump fail. Each home boasts of it’s own sewage grinder-lift station to be absolutely sure our poo and dirty dishwater leaves as it should. Cautionary tales about the cost of repair or replacement left us aghast. We made sure to avoid financial disaster and paid for the upgraded “diamond” plan when obtaining our home warranty policy. Noting the red flashing light on neighbor’s control boxes left me with relief that ours continued to do its work, UNTIL my neighbor called about nine pm with news that mine was flashing! 

Drama in the days that followed tried my joyful spirit. In fact, my cranky old lady persona reflected my inability to flush toilets, run my shower, dishwasher or clothes washer. The assigned plumber arrived unexpectedly. I happily welcomed them, but alas the relationship went sour quickly! I was told a septic tank pumping specialist would need to come remove the vile liquid before diagnosis could be completed. That was the news after I made a trip to the ATM to obtain cash for this service provider requiring a cash only version of my co-payment. They drove away leaving me looking at my still flashing red light, googling “septic tank services”. A call to the warranty company was unhelpful. The claims agent told me they did not provide that service, but when completed, an additional visit from the plumber would not require an additional co-payment! Why was I not comforted With that news!!!

The following day a delightful young man came out in a big truck with a long hose to drain the 37 gallons of sewage from my tank. He apologized for collecting the “thousand gallon minimum” fee, after calling his boss to attempt to negotiate a lower cost. I appreciated the five percent senior discount, acknowledging silently that I wouldn’t want to do his job at any cost. He drained the tank, reset the pump, ran the grinder and the pump through the paces, had me flush both toilets and run copious amounts of liquid down my drains. The red light was no longer flashing and he proclaimed my grinder and pump functional. He was here less time than the lazy plumber had spent in my drive awaiting my retrieval of cash payment! 

After fretting and stewing overnight I called the warranty company with my “never mind” about sending a plumber back out. Conversations with neighbors revealed that the plumber used in their repairs had arrived, drained the tank and completed the repair or replacement without the need to recruit a septic pumper! The claims agent I reached on that call listened patiently to my tirade. Yes, the plumber should have drained the tank and included the charge for that in the bill. The huge pump truck was certainly overkill for my tank. Though not covered on it’s own merit, I might be eligible for reimbursement since it did accomplish my initial purpose. 

Positive response soothed my attitude. I had a choice. A check would be dispatched in six to eight weeks or on-line gift card of my choice could be used immediately. Being sufficiently cranky, I chose the Visa Gift card to be mailed the following day. Hardly anyone waits for a check these days, and my disgust in this event began with a service provider refusing to accept a  check!

Zoom

School is beginning everywhere, but nowhere as it was. Public schools and universities are hosted by teachers via zoom classes. Now there is a new noun or adjective. In the past zoom was used as a verb to denote moving something quickly(i.e. Cars were "zooming" by on the street). In the new context, it is a virtual meeting by internet from multiple locations. We will see multiple faces on a screen in an effort to share and learn during isolation. 

Just so you know, I find this method of meeting lacks a full experience for learning, visiting or sharing information. That could be the result of my inept technological ability, however I find grumbling on many fronts. Clearly I am not alone in my frustration.

I write this missive today in hope that months from today this period will be only a sad memory, reminding me that I was blessed to survive these weeks.