Yet Another Different Kind of Christmas:Thanks to the Coronavirus

Now this is the strangest holiday season I think that anyone may have experienced. At least most of the people in our lifetimes have not been through a plague, since the Spanish Flu Pandemic of 1918. It's taken us on a long, inconvenient and uncomfortable ride, and most folks are saying, "Come on now! Aren't we there yet?" 

"Pandemic fatigue" has set in, especially as the holidays are upon us. My husband and I made it through Thanksgiving with just the two of us with a roast duck. No kids or grandkids gathered around our table, so I made some yummy Tollhouse cookies without touching them or breathing on them, and handed them out to friends in our mobile park in ZipLoc bags. They were very thankful for the treats. We participated in a couple of Zoom calls from family and friends, which made us feel that we weren't alone, and we all texted photos of our meals and toasted each other on FaceTime. Thank God for Zoom and social media giving us a little feeling of togetherness.

I announced to my husband that "we need to put up lots of lights this year! Let's shine away 2020!" I ran to the laptop to order more solar Christmas lights from Amazon, since some years we've had lots of lights and a huge electric bill for December. This should do the trick. When they arrived, though, I found that some of the lights I ordered were classified as "fairy lights", very tiny, twinkly things, surprisingly bright for their size, but not quite right. I went back and ordered ones shaped like colorful snowflakes, in honor of the vintage 12-inch snowflake lights I used to string on the hedge each year. I checked the size on solar ones, and they were only about 1-1/4" wide, but they'd do. Then we ordered a nice, new 72 foot string of colorful solar lights for the "wall tree" that I've arranged on our living room wall for the last few years. As I kept on receiving the boxes in the mail, my husband said, "But didn't you just order some lights?" I told Doug that it was okay that I was ordering so many things, since we would be saving so much money every Christmas on electricity! Heck, we would even be doing our part to save the planet!

The lights went up pretty fast, and then the wall tree, with the traditional "Elf" movie playing in the background. It struck me as perfect, when I looked over at the TV and Will Ferrel, as Elf, said "You're very good at decorating that tree!"

I first arranged the lights, by using a string from the top to the bottom  as a guide line, and then zig-zagged them back and forth on nails, thankful that the 72 foot length worked out just fine! Next, I added the green foil garlands from the Dollar Store, and then layered on lots of favorite ornaments.

Everything automatically lit up the first night, at 5:03, as the sun went down, and now each evening it's getting a little sooner. Last night, the sky darkened at 5:00 PM, even, and on they came. 

It took me over a month to gather photos online of family members for the calendar I make each year,

and, being ever frugal, I figured out how to mail several of them directly to people with free shipping, saving a bunch on postage. Next was the task of finding age appropriate gifts for kids, mostly sent by Amazon, saving postage once again, but I refused mostly, to pay the $4.99 extra for a gift bag. Not realizing that my name wouldn't be on the outside of the box as the sender, only on the receipt inside, I told everyone, "If it is addressed just to the kids, don't open it, just put it under your tree." I imagine many trees are going to have lots of unwrapped cardboard boxes under them. Maybe we should stick a bow on top just to try to make it look a little more festive. 

I've never seen so many delivery vans, and now I notice UPS drivers in their brown uniforms and hats, sporting a blue surgical mask, driving U-Haul trucks. On Sundays you might spot a postal truck being driven around, since Amazon is renting them from the post office on a day they aren't usually used.

We feel really sorry for the local businesses and restaurants, especially here in California, where we are in such a lockdown. Our friend Kim and her family own the Mario's restaurant here in Palm Springs, and we try to get something to go a couple of times a week to support them. Besides, we miss going out to lunch. We're afraid that more small businesses will be closing before this whole thing is over. It's so sad.

When we went to Lowe's last week, most of their Christmas decorations were sold out. I just went in for birdseed, but I mean! Even outside where they sell their live Christmas trees, the pickings were slim, with only about 20 trees left. It was in the paper the other day that more people are staying at home and trying to brighten up their lives with a bigger than usual Christmas tree. I guess we aren't the only ones decorating a little early.

A couple of weeks ago, we had a short visit from one of Doug's kid's and her family. It was long planned that they and 2 other friends and their families would meet up in Phoenix for a week at an AIRBNB. Each family self-isolated for 2 weeks at home, and they packed all of their food so they wouldn't have to stop along the way. After their nice time of playing in the sun, they stopped by to see us, all wearing their masks. They texted that they would pick up burritos for everyone at Chipotle, and we sat out on the patio over 6 feet apart, So Christmas will be more Zooming with family, and this time it will be just us and a rack of lamb. 

It was hard, but everyone agreed to not come near us to visit, especially after we heard that a friend's wife passed away three days ago, after having family over for Thanksgiving. Most of the people at that party contracted Covid. This was both chilling and sad to hear, and a real wake-up call. 

So.... You know the drill. Don't forget to wear your mask when you go outside your house. Be "stand-offish" when you are around folks that aren't in your "bubble". Smile at people with your eyes, since they can't see your mouth.....and have the Merriest Christmas that you can. 

2021 HAS to be better, right?

Tahoe Wildlife

This title could be a little misleading. It's not about the wild life that we lead here at  South Lake Tahoe. No, we're actually pretty calm and predictable. The story is just about the critters that we come across right outside our front door.

There's been talk of a big bear that comes around many times a week, that folks are starting to call "Bob". We haven't seen Bob ourselves, but we hear he's pretty large, and lumbers along. He seems to know when garbage day is, since he makes sure to check out the garbage enclosures the night before, opens the gate with the handle and then lifts the heavy lid on the bin with ease.

Our most exciting story, was when a black bear probably drank all the water from a bowl we have outside our front door two nights in a row. The missing water was first noted one morning when our neighbor's fence had been knocked down the night before, and the next day, it was reported that a bear had torn off a plank from the garbage enclosure. He must have worked up a thirst after all that work, and knew he could come by for a drink afterward. When I told my husband about all this, he said, "What?? I've been coming in and sitting in my recliner chair right by the door the last few nights. He was about 6 feet from my head! I think you'd better get rid of that water bowl, or at least move it!"

I opted for moving it, since I've been providing water for all the smaller critters for the last 5 or 6 years, and I think they depend on me.

The blue glass bowl was repositioned farther away, over behind a bush, and I placed a stone next to it so that the birds and chipmunks would have something to hop up on to get a drink. I watched and worried every day to see if anyone noticed the change. I sat and read quietly in my zero-gravity chair, looking around the edge of my book to see if I had any takers. I even put extra bird seed close by, which would get eaten, but there were no takers for a drink afterward. For a few days, the water level never went down, and finally Doug told me it would be okay if I put the bowl a little more out in the open. Soon after, it was discovered again, not only for refreshment, but for lovely baths!

The bathers, are the occasional American Robin, but two or three Brewer's Blackbirds from the flock that frequents our yard are appreciating a dip at the same time. One gets in and flaps around while the other two politely sit on the edge awaiting their turn.

Every morning, I go out with a copper cup that's meant for a Moscow Mule cocktail, filled 2/3 full with birdseed, and then topped off with shelled sunflower seeds and peanuts. I don't want a bunch of shells littering our forest floor, and I think the little animals appreciate the little effort they have to put out to get a nice buffet. Later on, I'll add a few grapes that have past their prime or some crusts of bread. I think they'll all be missing me when we go back down to Palm Springs in the end of October. A neighbor says that she fills the water bowl during the winter if she sees it getting low.

The squirrels are knocking down an abundant amount of pine cones from the Ponderosa pines lately. Someone told us that this means that we'll have an early winter or a big one. One of the two. They chew them off from way up high, and the immature cones drop down like bombs, with a big "thud" making you wonder if you should be wearing a bicycle helmet along with your mask. Then, the squirrel runs down the tree and very conscientiously chews off bits that are called scales, leaving them in a mess all over the ground, and eating up the seeds that are underneath. Only something like a corn cob is left on the ground. The more mature pine cones, that are all opened up, with their scales all flailed out,  are left alone by the squirrels. I just noticed the difference this year, since I have so much time on my hands, I suppose. 

Doug laughs that I identify the squirrels as babies, teenagers, and adults. But I keep watching. These brown squirrels, called Douglas, or Chickarees, seem to first appear as small as chipmunks, squealing like birds, and mostly brown, with golden bellies. As they age, to the "teenage" years, they start getting darker strips on their sides, and grow larger. The babies are fearless, and don't mind coming close to me, but the teenagers seem to grow more skittish, undoubtedly having had some experiences with danger. 

I used to think that the smaller brown squirrels were the younger grey squirrels, but no.

The Grey Squirrels are much larger, with deer-like faces, longer ears, and have huge, fluffy tails. As they grow older, they grow more salt and pepper grey. They climb down the trees in the morning to see what I've provided for breakfast. 

Right now, in the beginning of September, I'm starting to think that both of the species don't appreciate my thoughtfulness so much, since they have been digging around many of the plants that I have planted recently. I always say that they think that there's a new squirrel in town that has hidden a nut, but a friend told me that they just like to chew on the roots of my plants. Still though, I'm just glad that they aren't voles, like we had a few years ago, tunneling around and killing the plants. Some may hate them, but I still love watching my squirrels.

The chipmunks have been just darling lately, baby ones I'm sure, coming around in pairs of two, just like "Chip and Dale" from the old cartoons. They skitter around so quickly, from a bush, across the path, and under the steps, that I can hardly point them out to Doug in time, before they are gone again. Even the older ones, with their striped backs, (they all have them from birth), are so quick and wary, jump up to take a drink from my blue bowl. I'm delighted to provide for them.

The species of birds are many, from the big flock of Brewer's Blackbirds that I mentioned, to the Stellar Jays and their cacophony that we hear telling their friends that breakfast is served each morning. Later on in the day, a couple of mourning doves will show themselves, sometimes defending what they believe is their territory, making us think that their reputation for being so peaceful is in jeopardy. A few American Robins hang around, not necessarily interested in my bird seeds, but I think more concentrating on the worms that might be attracted to our automatic watering system. Most of them have orangish-red breasts, and some have speckled ones. I thought those were maybe the females, not being as flashy, but I've read that they are the juveniles.

Notably louder, we have huge crows, that swoop over our heads near the pool so low that we can hear their wings flap. Then they go up high in the pines and caw to each other or make a strange gurgling sound, we think is to attract a mate. There are even a few even larger ravens, that march around on the ground, almost as big as turkeys.

Another special bird is the Northern Flicker. My ears are getting so attuned to the calls of the birds, that I joke that I may have been one once. The other day I was inside, and heard a different birdcall, and looked out to see a big bird on the side of a tree, pecking at it. It didn't have a red head like some of the woodpeckers up here do,  just a little bit on it's cheeks, and it was tan and kind of speckled. When it took off flying it had a beautiful salmon color under it's wings. I ran for my trusty bird book, and found it! A Flicker! Today, I found that online I could hear samples of this bird's call, so I did a funny thing and brought my computer outside and played a couple of them loudly. The other birds looked shocked and took off, but on about the third try, a Flicker swooped over to land on the side of one of the Ponderosa pines! Then he hopped down to the ground and pecked awhile. He didn't seem very interested in hearing any more of my calls, so maybe it was just a coincidence. 

For the last two years, a pair of Chickadees have made their nest in a knot hole in the trim above our condo. They're winning the award for my favorite flock of birds. They fly down to a small pine tree out front, and sometimes come close to me when I'm walking by, or they hop around near by while I'm gardening, seeming rather curious and friendly. Their chirp sounds like a sort of smooching, kissing sound. I try to make that sound when I come out in the morning and every so often one flies down to me.

Their heads look like they're wearing little bicycle helmets, and sometimes the peanuts they try to pick up and fly away with, look half the size of their little round body.

A couple of months some of the neighbors were delighted that a mallard duck had made a nest, but were worried that she made her nest full of feathers in a precarious place, down low in a juniper bush. There were three eggs in there, and we all looked forward to when the little ducklings would be following their mother around the condo complex. Our hopes were dashed one day, when it looked like a coyote had found the nest. All that was left were the shells amongst her soft feathers, and Mama was walking around quacking, looking forlorn.

A few days later, Mama duck had taken to swimming in the pool, which seemed okay, since it was closed to us due to the pandemic. We were entertained by her dramatic landings in the water, and were happy that she had a spa, (or pond), to recover from her loss. She'd hang out at the edge, and eventually surprised us by depositing a large egg right there on the cement.... and leaving it. The neighbors all talked about how to help her, all wearing our masks and socially distancing, of course. We worried that the abandoned egg would get too cold, since the temps were going to drop that night. Finally, the maintenance guy checked it out closer and found it to be cracked. The poor thing was unceremoniously deposited in the garbage bin. Mama never showed up again.

Well, it looks like from my ramblings that I still have a lot of time on my hands. I've told you about everything wild here so far. Guess I'd better go outside again to see what's up.

The Little Creep!

We've been up at South Lake Tahoe since the beginning of May, and I've been having a grand time gardening for the whole condo complex, with the larger stipend of $750. they've given me for plants. I DO like to find the best deals I can, and it's even better when I'm spending someone else's money.
My new saying is "I work for compliments", since I don't get paid for the digging, but I consider gardening my main form of exercise. Besides, one of the owners said that whenever she spots a new flower, she says to herself, "The gardening fairy must have been here!" That's my new moniker, and I like it.

My routine in the morning, after we do a short meditation and prayer, is to go out and feed the birds, squirrels and chipmunks. I fill their water bowl and toss a mixture of birdseed, and peanuts and sunflower seeds without the shell on the ground like I'm feeding chickens. It's delightful for me to watch their movements out the window, but for the last two mornings, I've gone out to find the two most recent plants I've planted in our own little plot, with holes dug next to them. Whenever that happens, I just figure that one of the critters must think that there's a new squirrel in town that has buried a nice juicy nut, so I use the toe of my slipper to fill in the hole, forgiving them.

.

Once again, right next to the Milkweed I planted to provide Monarch butterflies a place to set up housekeeping, and my nice, red Coral Bells plant that I got for Doug for Father's Day, big holes, and the red-leafed one had had it's roots chewed on! Now this morning, everything was fine, until after I fed the little darlings their treats. We dished up breakfast, and then I glanced out the window to find the Coral Bells completely uprooted and lying on its side! Oh no!
"What the.....! Don't you guys know that I'm the one that provides for you every day?" This means war!

Leaving my coffee and turkey bacon and toast with honey and peanut butter on it to get cold, I ran back in to the kitchen to rummage through the spice cupboard to find my stash of hot red peppers like you put on pizza. These were left over from the arsenal I had used to fight off the voles 2 years ago. Doug watched as I whizzed by him to defend my territory. I plopped the poor plant back in to it's hole, filled it in, and sprinkled the hot peppers thickly around it. Take that, you little creep! Then I went in to eat my breakfast.

About an hour later, we were dressed up to finally go to mass, (we had to make reservations), and Doug saw through the window that there was a big fat squirrel standing up holding the Coral Bells and chewing on the roots! Perhaps he enjoyed the extra spicy seasoning! I opened the door and he ran off, leaving the plant looking wilted and missing half of it's roots. I only had time to toss it back in it's hole and give it some water and wish it well.

When we came home, it looked like it needed artificial respiration. I decided to give it more water and then cover it with a big glass bowl, sort of like a terrarium. Then it got overheated in the sun, and the glass was coated in moisture, so I set two ice cubes on top of the bowl. Desperate measures.....

That worked for a little while, but then when I took off the bowl, even though it looked a little perkier, I worried about the plant being attacked again over night, so I put the bowl on again.
After being exposed again in the morning though, some of the leaves were feeling as crispy as potato chips, and I decided to dig it up and put it in a pot, (no less, a ceramic pot I made myself back in the 80's).

The next day, I sat in my zero-gravity lounge chair and read a book, while glancing up intermittently to gaze lovingly at my group of critters as they grazed on their morning buffet. One of the chipmunks, not realizing I was there sat near me on the ground chewing on seeds. A robin skitters to and fro, and I notice that she keeps her head down and forward as she runs along, and then stops, more upright, and looks and listens.

But then I notice a big squirrel that is sniffing around and pawing at the ground across the way, digging little holes, and then stopping to scratch himself. Maybe he has a flea. "This is the guy!", I'm thinking. He repeats the process a few times, and by now I'm calling him "Itchy". Then he comes right over to where the red plant had been, and sniffed around. "Aha!" I wish I had a squirt gun to surprise him with.

Oh well. At least my little plant is safe up on the table. Hmm. Perhaps I should bring it in to the dining room at night.
I know there are other folks who might get out a BB gun at this point....and I AM considering a trip to the Dollar Store later to shop for a Super Soaker, but in this time of self isolating, at least I have some cheap entertainment.

The Snowbirds Have Landed

We've stayed longer in Palm Springs than we usually do, thinking that if we put off returning to Lake Tahoe until May 13th or so, perhaps the fears over Coronavirus would dwindle. We forgot the fact that the temperature would be rising in the south. As it continued rising into the 100's, my husband suggested that we leave the next day. Unfortunately, I had ordered a few things online, and worried whether they would be properly forwarded to us without a huge charge. So we waited, continuing to be lazy about decluttering and organizing and packing for our six months up north. Finally! The most important items were delivered and the departure date was set for two days later. The temp had risen to 104 degrees, and even though it was hard to do any work outside, most of our packing and straightening was done indoors and we put all three of our little air conditioners to work along with the swamp cooler! It became mandatory that we get our act together.

The morning we left, April 30th, friends dropped by, all donning their masks, and standing the prescribed 6 feet away, to say good-bye, give us pretend hugs from a distance, and snacks to eat on the way. I kept bringing out bags and small boxes, and our suitcases, as everyone marveled at how it might all fit in to the Prius. "Doug always makes it work. He's the Master Packer!", I said, "And besides, this year we've sort of added on a room!" I pointed to the top of the car where sat our new Roof Bag, a roof-top carrier that zips open and is made of something like raft material.
"This is one reason I wasn't worried about fitting in her old guitar this time", he said. "And all my craft supplies that I insist on traveling back and forth with us", I added. Doug rolled his eyes and shrugged. "It'll all fit fine", he said.

By 10:15, we entered our destination into MapQuest on the iPhone, and we left town, already munching on some yummy oatmeal cookies that our friend had baked for us the night before. We vowed that we would make the 9 hour trip in one day, and not dawdle, taking turns with the driving. Bagels and cream cheese, turkey sandwiches, and fruit had been packed for meals on the way, and lots of water that was in refillable bottles, would make it so we wouldn't have to stop except to pee.

The quickest route is to go right up Hwy. 395. The beginning of the route would be on I-10, past the windmills and of course heavy winds. It was the first test of our roof-top carrier, and it endured it okay, except for scooting back a little closer to the antenna. Doug tightened the straps a little more, and there was no more problem. I still tried to not drive like a speed demon, just to make sure.

About 3 hours later, for a bathroom break, we stopped at a kind of funky truck-stop, and we wore our gloves and masks, and felt we should buy a bottle of iced tea and some Cornnuts, just to pay for the use of the bathroom. Our bottle of hand sanitizer was used liberally when we got back out to the car. It's so strange to have to always be thinking about ways of being careful!

Our radio wasn't picking up much of anything, so we listened to a Trevor Noah podcast, and a little bit of a book on Audible and then some of Blossom Dearie radio station on Pandora, as we glided by old lava flows and snow-covered mountains on our left in the Sierras. Near Mammoth Lakes, we hit a rest stop that was thankfully open. The air was crisp and cool, and I took the chance to stick my nose near the bark of a Ponderosa pine to smell the aroma of butterscotch. "We're almost there", Doug said, "It'll only be another hour and a half!" That sounded pretty long to me, since it was my turn to drive again, but once we turned up Kingsbury Grade, I knew we only had another half hour.

As we drove through town, in Stateline, Nevada, the casinos were closed, and our favorite little one, Lakeside Inn, that we like for their food, gave up the ghost last month and shut down for good. So sad. Everyone's wondering if businesses can make a comeback. It'll be in a different way for sure.

We turned in to our condo area, and carried a couple of things in with us. The condo is rented out usually in the summer, so when we walk in the door, it's all nice and clean, as if we are renters ourselves. We turned on the heater and our electric fireplace, and after getting a few of the more valuable things from the car, Doug poured us each a nice drink and we sat, marveling happily that we had the opportunity to live in two such wonderful places.

Still giddy in the morning, I fed my squirrels and birds their usual seeds and nuts and filled their blue glass water bowl. They seemed really happy that we had returned. Our paper had been delivered out near the car. Everything was falling back in to place and we had breakfast from things we had brought up.

Then it was time for a walk around our condo property. We've been planting bulbs all over the place, about 1000 in the last 3 years, and we were anxious to see all the tulips and daffodils that have sprouted up.

 While we were strolling around, our phone rang in my pocket, and I saw that it was our dentist's office calling. I thought, this is really strange, since they had already canceled Doug's appointment for cleaning, and I didn't think they would be opening their office yet.
I handed the phone to Doug, and the secretary told him that she had just received a call from someone who had found his wallet in the men's room at the rest stop we had stopped at near Mammoth Lakes! They tried different ways to figure out how to contact us, finally calling the number on the dental appointment card that Doug had saved in his wallet. She gave us their phone number to call them so it could be sent to us.

Oh my gosh! Doug had had trouble finding it this morning, and his next plan was to look under the bed when we went back home! Right away, we called and got Dan and Teresa, the people who Doug said, "restored my faith in human nature!" They said Dan had found it right on the floor of the bathroom, with lots of money and checks in it. "We figured someone might be missing it," he said, so they went around asking folks in cars and trucks, to no avail.

It's funny. Doug had read somewhere, that we should keep some cash on hand, should the economy take a big downturn. I had asked him where he was going to keep it while we were traveling. He said, "I think my wallet is the safest place, don't you think?" I agreed, since our track record of putting things "in a really good place", hasn't panned out very well. We can't find most of those things.

So Dan and Teresa told us they were going to send the wallet to us, and call us with the tracking number, which they did the next day. It didn't come as soon as it was supposed to, so Dan called another time to tell us that he had been tracking the package too, and hoped it would be delivered soon. A couple of days later, the USPS website said it had been delivered, and we ran over to the post office. There was the missing wallet, all intact, accompanied by a nice card. We sent them one back, thanking them and enclosed a just reward for their honesty. Another few days later, Dan and Teresa called, thanking us back, and suggested that next time we are on our way back to Palm Springs, we should stop to see them. We both thought, "now these are some folks that we would like to meet!"

That was a nice, positive way to start our Tahoe summer. This season won't be the same though. Just as everywhere else, the pandemic has the hot tub empty and the pool closed. Most restaurants are only open for pick up, and there won't be the usual amount of tourists, since the hotels are closed, and if anyone rents out their place by AIRBNB, there will be a $1000. fine.

A guy was selling used bicycles out in front of his home the other day though, and I bought one for myself to toodle around the area. Not on roads though. I'm afraid of traffic.

The lake is looking beautiful, and will no doubt be less polluted this year, without all the people boating and going to the beach. Not that Lake Tahoe is very polluted. It's always been noted that one can see an object dropped to 70 feet. I guess this is an opportunity to keep it that way. The corona virus may be a terrible hit for human beings, but at the same time it should be a nice breather for the environment.

Corona Virus Ramblings....

Guess it's time to cut my own bangs. It'll make me feel better. There really is something to the phrase, "bad hair day". I've trimmed them before, and I've learned from past mistakes, of not holding my eyebrows up like I'm very interested. When you relax your brows your bangs are much shorter than you were hoping they'd be. A friend who has given me haircuts before, once asked me how short I'd like them. I said, "Not too short. Not like my eighth grade picture!" "Oh", he said, "so you don't want to go for the Mamie Eisenhower look?"

Perhaps I've had too much time on my hands and have been looking in the mirror too much, but now I see a few hairs sticking out of my chin. Where are tweezers when you need them? It turns out that toenail clippers don't do an efficient job, not pulling out the root, and then an even stronger looking hair continues to grow. Tweezers went on to my list for when we went shopping and I am now "whisker" free. Well, maybe until I go into the bathroom again and look in the mirror.

Also, in this time of self-isolating, I'm overdue for a pedicure. I've been treating myself to one for years, since as time goes by, I'm not as flexible, and I usually get a cramp trying to get in to the position to trim my own nails. Besides, I like to get pampered a little bit, except for when they think they have to buff all the callouses off the bottom of your feet. They seem to think it's funny, as I grab the arms of the chair and try not to squeal, at the same time trying to explain to the pedicurist to go easy on me. Then they're forgiven when a hot towel is put over my legs, and lotion is applied with a nice massage.
I trimmed the nails on one foot the other night, and today I'll do the other one, and maybe another day I'll remove the old green polish that I chose for St. Patrick's Day. The toes were never shown off, because we had to cancel our annual party because the virus was just getting under way. I'm not sure if I'll try to put nail polish on again myself, because I don't have any. I looked for some the last time we went to the drug store and each bottle was amazingly about 9 or 10 dollars! I thought the price would be about $3.00, so I guess you can tell how long it's been since I've done my own toes. Oh well, it'll probably be healthier for my toenails to be able to breathe for a while.

There are a few things I've been appreciating during this time though. We've done a lot more cooking at home. My husband and I usually go out to lunch every day, which I really loved, since I used to be a waitress who wished that she could be the one who was being served each day. So now, we've bought a bunch of food, and have been putting together fine meals, which produce leftovers and we've been making soups, especially since the weather in Palm Springs has been unusually chilly  so far this year. Doug is the sous chef and I sauté a lot of the ingredients before adding them to the pot or crockpot, and then I season it. When you think about it, it's wonderful how all those raw ingredients meld together, softening, and take on each others' flavors.

Another thing I've noticed lately, is about eggs. I'm becoming an expert at making over medium eggs. The neat thing about them is that eggs kinda like to keep to themselves. I put four eggs in a fry pan with a little spray oil, and let them start cooking for a while on medium heat. then I let them sit off to the side while toast is made, and the coffee is almost ready. When I come back to them, ready to flip them over, they come apart, even though one has crept on top of the edge of another. I gently separate them, and their little cells know whose is whose. I think that is pretty fascinating. I'm sure there's a scientific explanation for that, but as you might have noticed, I'm not a scientist.

Lately I'm always looking for things to wash. I have my eyes on all the throw rugs next. This is because we bought a stackable washer and dryer last year, and they're big and shiny and they sing to me when I turn them on. In the evening, Doug and I fold things together. I prefer to do my own things, because I have my ways...., folding my jeans a certain way, and making sure that shirts are hanging on the hangers in one direction.....but it's a nice, companionable thing to do. Besides, he does all of his own socks and underwear.

Since we live in California, and I'm programmed in to thinking "water shortage!" all the time. I've had a big bowl in my kitchen sink to catch water if we rinse off vegetables, etc. We faithfully, (well, I), take that bowl, when it's full, out to water some plants, so it won't be wasted. Now that we're all washing our hands to the tune of "Happy Birthday", that bowl gets filled up many times a day. It was really rainy here for awhile, so I used the water for putting things down the garbage disposal instead. Now that the weather is going to rise up to 94 on Wednesday, and then 98 the rest of the week, we'll be glad to be pouring that water that would have been going down the drain onto our plants.

There's talk right now that we might leave and go to Tahoe earlier just to get out of the heat. If we do, we'll do a very quick transition, not stopping for the night anywhere, or visiting family, and "skedaddling", as Doug says, driving for maybe 12 hours, taking turns driving, and packing a lunch and dinner.

Not that we've been thinking too hard about it. We'll see. I suppose it's almost time for these snowbirds to fly home.

But, "Oh-oh! We have some things we've ordered from Amazon that haven't arrived yet. I find that I do love ordering things online. I'll have to put myself on restriction, and hold back on shopping till we get back north. There's suffering everywhere. Mine is very small.

Our Personal Retreat: The Corona Virus

We just listened to Eckhart Tolle speak on YouTube about being present and breathing, of course, especially in these strange times of uncertainty and unusual fear. The phrase that stuck in my mind, though, was to consider this time when we are self-isolating as a time for a "personal retreat". We may think that we have to schedule such a time, like a vacation, but here it is, thrust upon us. It's a gift of time to consider our life, and to appreciate what we have.

My husband and I are in a pretty special place here in our mobile park in Palm Springs. We see the news like everyone else, and it looks like the US is on the same track as poor Italy. We almost got freaked out 2 days ago, and were making sudden plans to head north to Tahoe just in case the government started not allowing folks to travel in their cars. Then, we thought, we could be stranded down here in the heat of the summer. Canadians are leaving by the droves, since they have restrictions on how long they can stay away, and their health coverage isn't as good here as at home.

So that night we ordered a rooftop carrier on Amazon for our Prius, to hold all the extra supplies we've bought. The next morning, I couldn't sleep for worrying about all the packing and cleaning we had to do,

so I got up early and went outside to garden at 7 am, just as the sun was coming up. I chopped and yanked at and pulled out what we call "devil grass" from between the stones outside our door, in order to plant some Canna Lilies that my friend gave me the day before.

Some little crickets scurried from under the rocks, and a little daddy long legs hobbled away. I smiled, since I had never appreciated their unusual gait before.

When I straightened up, and walked over to our vegetable garden to water, our lettuce was finally growing like crazy along with the Swiss chard.

The flower seeds I planted in November have taken off too, sprouting yellow daisies and the cosmos plant was just blooming. The snapdragons are showing off rather psychedelically in the morning sun. Tomato plants are finally sporting some fair-sized green tomatoes. If we leave now, someone else will eat them. If we stay, we'll still share them. I don't want to go.

I came in the house and told Doug how much better off we'd be here than in the snow. He agreed, since he had been having second thoughts too. We ordered a new, bigger air conditioner, in case we do get stuck here in the 120 degree summer, and then made plans to go to the pool. The weather in Palm Springs has been so cold and different this season, so we were happy to walk, on the sunniest day that we had seen, over to the nice pool that had just had a new heater installed. There was only one other person there, so no problem with keeping away from her. As we were doing our exercises in the deep end, two mallards swooped right in and landed close by to delight us. The female seemed more interested in bathing and scrubbing and scratching and ducking down to rinse. The teal-headed male washed himself some, but mostly stayed close to her. ("Just like a man", I thought.) They performed for us for about 20 minutes, and then hopped out on to the side to preen themselves and flap their wings dry. Sufficiently refreshed, they took off just as suddenly as they had arrived. We were sorry to see them go. They were like a gift.

Listening to Eckhart's message today made me sit down to write right away, something I've been meaning to do more of. So many people are complaining about being home, but maybe they can use this odd time to be creative in ways that they don't usually have time for. It's sort of like a forced retirement. I'm thinking of taking up painting again, and playing my ancient guitar once more. Perhaps I'll make some more pots on my wheel, or just paint the wall that's full of holes from having the wall tree on it at Christmas. It's about time. I already bought the paint.

Or you can go for a walk, or a hike, or ride your bike. It's good to be outside, breathing in the fresh air, just as long as you don't share that air with others. Concentrate on that breath, and be thankful that you can breathe. Wherever you are, be present and appreciative. Perhaps a hummingbird will come and hover over you as you walk along, or you'll catch a glint of sunlight coming through the window and making a rainbow prism on the wall. How does it make you feel? Good, I think.

Enjoy your "personal retreat".

There's Porridge, and then There's Porridge

When at home, on a chilly morning, I'll choose to cook up some nice, steel-cut oats, rather than have cold cereal with lots of fruit. Sometimes it'll be eggs and toast, but many times, oatmeal.
I call my version of oatmeal, "Elf Oatmeal", since it contains quite a few sweet things like Will Ferrell would have in the movie, "Elf". I even include maple syrup, as he is partial to, although ours is sugar-free.

My recipe, enough for two, is made to start with only one serving of Trader Joe's Steel-cut Oats, and water and and then I heat it while the pot is covered. As it cooks, I cut up a banana and some strawberries, leaving the pan uncovered as I stir them in. I continue to add a few red seedless grapes, blueberries, raisins, tart dried Montmorency cherries, and as it bubbles and needs more liquid, I add almond milk or low-fat milk, so no worries about being lumpy or thick. For a little special flavor, I add a couple of squirts of sugar-free maple syrup. After it's all placed in the bowls that have been warmed in the microwave, I stir in chunky peanut butter, a little brown sugar, or perhaps Splenda, some sort of berry jam, like boysenberry, and more of that sugar-free maple syrup. I heat a cup of low-fat milk in the microwave, adding 1/2 to each bowl, so nothing gets cooled down by adding it cold. My husband used to turn up his nose at the idea of oatmeal for breakfast, but after he tasted my concoction, he even requests it some mornings.

Sometimes when we go out for breakfast, I hesitate to order the oatmeal that most restaurants serve, since they usually only offer raisins, brown sugar, and milk. Only one time was I pleased with what was offered. It was at a diner in Massachusetts, and we were served by a waitress that reminded me of "Flo", in the old TV show, "Alice". I knew I could get jam and syrup from her, but when I asked if she had peanut butter, she came back with, "Creamy or chunky?"
"God bless you!", I said.  I could have kissed her.

On a recent trip to Ireland, we stayed at a B&B in Kinsale, on the Southern coast, for an entire week. We were served such an assortment for breakfast, by our host, Jimmie Conran, each morning. He always remembered what our favorite things were, and he encouraged us to have porridge, as if it was a tonic for the soul. "Is porridge a type of oatmeal, or is it cream of wheat?" I asked. "Oh, it's oatmeal, but I make it over night and I like to know who will be having it so I'm sure to prepare enough," he explained in his melodic Irish accent. I succumbed, but said, "Only a half portion, if that's all right," since he had already brought out a half pink grapefruit, already sectioned for me. It was a grapefruit from Spain, and unbelievable sweet and juicy. My mouth is watering now, just thinking about it.

Then, along with the French Press coffee pot, which we were instructed to wait a few moments before pressing down, he brought me my half bowl of porridge. He pointed out the ingredients on the table to ad: honey, cinnamon, tiny bowls of raisins and blueberries, butter, and milk and sugar. He didn't balk at all when I asked for maple syrup. Amazingly, this new recipe became a new, if not favorite concoction that I looked forward to each breakfast. I mixed it all in to my bowl every morning as if it was a ritual.

Jimmie's breakfast didn't stop there. He always offered eggs cooked to order, sausage or bacon, (which had no fat to speak of), and white or black pudding. We shied away from the black pudding, since we knew it was usually called blood pudding. The white pudding, he said contains some oatmeal, and I think it tastes like a sausage patty, which I'm partial to. There's always the basket of bread on the table, and we both loved the fruit bread, spread with his soft butter, and brought a few slices of the wheat bread up to our room wrapped in a napkin to save for sandwiches we'd make for lunch. After a couple of days, we figured out that we didn't have to order everything that Jimmie offered us, as if we were eating an entire buffet. Some of the folks at the other tables, we noticed, had smaller breakfasts of eggs and sausage and bread and coffee. It didn't take us too long to learn our lesson.
We left the care of Jimmie, at his B&B called San Antonio,
almost tearfully, in a cab that he go generously called for us, and headed for the train station.

It was a long travel day, with a train to Tralee,  and then a bus that took us the rest of the way to Dingle. Mistakenly, we dragged our rolling bags and backpacks all over town trying to find our next B&B, thinking it was just around the bend. Probably, we should have tried to call a cab, since the walking became too much for Doug. We found a pub on a corner and asked directions. "It's just up that hill," the bartender said. After looking out the door and up the hill, it was decided that it would be best to take the load off our feet and stop for a Guinness.

Reinvigorated, we tackled the hill, stopping to look at the charming rock walls along the way.

We finally found Highfield House, on up the hill, and were thankfully greeted by Stephan. He took took our bags off our hands and manfully carried them upstairs for us.
His Mum, Mary, served us breakfast in the breakfast room,  each day. At first I didn't dare try the "porridge".
On our last day, she said, "But you must try it with a shot of  Bailey's, dear!"
Bailey's Irish Cream, Hmm.... a liqueur that I've avoided, with no reason that I can think of. So I tried it.
Hmm.... Now That was yummy! It wasn't thick, but I added some milk, then raisins, and butter and the liqueur added a savory coffee flavor to it.

They also had a sideboard full of lovely bowls of grapefruit, and stewed prunes, and a platter of cheeses. Then, out comes what we actually ordered....scrambled cheesy eggs for me and scrambled eggs with onions and lox for Doug....and of course lots of bread and butter. Once again, we'll have to learn the lesson that it's not up to us to order everything on the menu.

After we came back to California, we had one night to stay in a hotel. It was a Days Inn, a pretty reasonable price, and it included what they called a "continental breakfast". We could tell we were back in America, by the usual offerings of do-it-yourself waffles, bagels, toast, yogurt, coffee and tea. ...except the waffle machine was broken.

 We almost left to go to a restaurant for breakfast, and then I spotted a big electric pot that said "Quaker Oats" on it's side, and the usual cheery face that I've seen on the side of the cardboard canister all my life. I decided to give it a try.

It was surprisingly good! I found some jam, peanut butter, and raisins, and heated up some milk in the microwave. I even added just a little touch of coffee to try to bring back a hint of the Bailey's. It may have had to be eaten from a styrofoam cup, but it was passable.
No worries. Soon we would be home again and have access to all my usual ingredients. In the meantime, I've found that I don't have to be so nose-in-the-air about my oatmeal, oh er, porridge.