It’s been a weird one and certainly more subdued than most, but I hope that wherever you’ve been hunkering down,
you
had a
beautiful,
empowering
and inspiring
Pride Month. Love to you all.
So painful when something that is so close is still so far out of reach
My friend Mara spotted some lost doll flyers around the reservoir this weekend.
Good sign. And laminated.
While I am currently too chicken to venture down to the reservoir myself right now, as the last time I went there most people were maskless and ignoring the posted COVID-19 safety measures on the pedestrian path, I thought I might be able to do some internet sleuthing to find this doll’s whereabouts.
First off, I realized that I had to figure out who this Kit was. According to the American Girl website, she grew up in Ohio during the Great Depression, and she weathers hard times with grit and gratitude. Already she sounds more mature and responsible than many of the people going around the reservoir.
Wikipedia says she is a tomboy, which is borne out by the fact that she was lost while up in a tree. In fact, here is a flyer in what I am assuming is said tree:
Wikipedia is also saying that Kit hates change. However, I’m thinking that this may no longer be the case, as she is wearing a rainbow t-shirt in one of the photos, and that’s making me think that she is expressing her LGBTQ+ allyship. This is hopefully not a radical idea to any of us now, but it certainly was in Ohio during the Great Depression. Good job, Kit.
In regards to the area itself, I know that some things have changed around the reservoir since I last walked down there and encountered all the maskless yahoos. First off, some folks made a very powerful Black Lives Matter “Say Their Names” memorial all the way around the fence that skirts the pedestrian path. Secondly, from the photos I’ve seen of the memorial, it looks like people are checking it out while mainly practicing decent physical distancing measures. So maybe Kit is hanging out with a responsible person with a strong moral code, and she will soon be returned to her child pal with some good stories and life lessons.
On the other hand, some asshole this morning managed to drive 75 mph on the street that goes along the reservoir, veering into oncoming traffic, hitting and killing someone on a scooter, seriously injuring two other people, and plowing into a restaurant. This goes well beyond yahoo behavior straight into sociopath. I hope Kit and her child pal were far away from the area. I think I will continue to avoid it as well. Find your way home safely, Kit.
You can buy a dream or two
I should be happy today. Benny found a Lonesome Town refrigerator out in the wild yesterday, and since he has a lot of experience taking refrigerator doors off their hinges,
we now have a sad clown refrigerator door on our porch. And my super talented friend Andie made me a new face mask that might perk up peoples’ spirits if I start walking around the neighborhood again.
To add to that, it’s my little pal Lulu’s eighth birthday today and I got to talk to her a bit today while I was at my car and she was on her front stairs. So it hasn’t been a bad day or two for me personally.
But we just hit 100,000 COVID-19 cases in the state I live in, and we just hit 100,000 COVID-19 deaths in the US. And some people still don’t think it’s a big deal and are making this worse by acting the fool. So I guess it’s just me and Benny and this fridge trying to keep one another happy behind the driveway gate for who knows how much longer. I hope you’re all keeping well.
Keeping the doctor away
Grampy’s remedy here might not cure the ‘rona, but if you’re just feeling a little blue and hemmed in right now you might want to give it a shot.
Etiquette & superstition: handkerchiefs
We’ve discussed handkerchiefs tangentially while explaining snot and spitting before, but maybe it’s a good time right now to discuss them more directly.
ETIQUETTE: Decorative silk and chiffon handkerchiefs are just that – decorative. Do not blow your nose with them. They can be used for gesturing and perhaps picking up an injured baby bird, and that’s about it.
More substantial handkerchiefs can also serve a somewhat decorative purpose as worn in the breast pocket of a suit jacket. Feel free to choose one with a colored border that matches your socks and tie, or shoes and purse. Colored-border handkerchiefs should not be used in a formal outfit, however.
Once you’ve used the handkerchief from your breast pocket, you should not stuff it back into that pocket because it’s going to look gross (if it’s visible) or lumpy (if it’s been stuffed all the way down and is no longer visible). You can put it in your pants/skirt pocket or your purse, or if you’re going for an old-timey boiled English gentleman aesthetic, you can shove it up your sleeve.
SUPERSTITION: It’s bad luck to carry a newly pressed and folded handkerchief; you need to unfold it first. You can refold it if that makes things more convenient for you. It’s also bad luck to pick up your own handkerchief if you drop it. And as we may have pointed out before, it’s not nice to give a handkerchief as a gift, as it will provide the recipient with much to use it for in the way of tears or sweat or illness. It will also ruin your relationship with them. How about a bandana, face buff, or kicky face mask instead?
Writing on the wall
At the beginning of this pandemic shelter in place stuff, I lurked in a thread of people talking about how they were going to occupy their kids when they started inevitably getting bored. One parent said she was going to let her very young kids paint their room themselves and see what happened. They could always paint over it after this whole thing if it wound up being really bad.
I haven’t seen any updates about that, but I wonder if she did it. If her kids were like this kitten I bet she wouldn’t paint over it.
Etiquette & superstition: solitary activities
I’m sure this Catch-22 was debated at some length by the more responsible powers-that-be before shelter in place orders were issued, but I’m finding it a little distressing: according to a study done a few years ago, belief in superstitions and conspiracy theories can be tied to feelings of isolation and social exclusion. I’d need to read the original paper to get a better handle on this, obviously, but needing to isolate people while knowing that isolating them may make them start to believe there are only nefarious reasons for their isolation sounds like a scary task. Keep doing those Zoom calls so you don’t start demonizing epidemiologists, everyone?
ETIQUETTE: Etiquette seems like a silly thing to be discussing right now, but I came across a passage in the beginning of Eleanor Roosevelt’s Book Of Common Sense Etiquette that I found quite relevant to our current situation. I condensed this somewhat but I think it retains her meaning.
“Unless we are able to find a relatively satisfactory adjustment within ourselves, so that we may look into the mirror with composure and close our eyes at night in reasonable peace, unless we make of ourselves persons whom we like, with whom, when occasion demands, we can live pleasantly in solitude, we are poorly equipped for social life in any community.” … “Your attitude toward the human race as a whole must include your concept of yourself, for you are a human being.” … “The one who … learns how to be honest to others by being honest with himself, not only will find the basic rules of courtesy to others natural and simple, but will also render perhaps the greatest of all courtesies to those with whom he has daily contact – that of being the kind of human being with whom it is a privilege to associate.”
SUPERSTITION: If you sing while you’re alone riding your horse or bike at night, you’ll get into an accident. If you’re a lady and you trip and fall while in an unfamiliar town, you will soon have a new beau. If you have a stye in your eye, go alone to a crossroads at midnight during a waning moon and yell: “Sty, sty, leave my eye, go to the next feller passin’ by!” If you want to spend the rest of your days wandering hungry and alone, just waste some corn.
A crow flying alone is an omen of impending disappointment, as is a lone cow mooing at night. Sandstorms are caused by bored and lonely desert demons.
The darkness and the light
Weight gain. Moodiness and oversensitivity. Lack of sleep. Confusion. Dry skin with intermittent breakouts. It’s either menopause or the pandemic. I think it’s the pandemic, because the whole world can’t be going through menopause at the same time, right?
Let’s talk about the sensitivity. Not too long ago, I would had have no problem whatsoever posting this utterly tragic lost dog notice all by itself
but these days I just can’t. The pathos is too much. If I post this saddest of sad lost dog notices right now, even if I can handle it, I’m not sure you can and I don’t want to leave you hanging like that. I feel like I need to give you a hug and tell you that it’s going to be okay and that this sweet thing is going to make it home safe and healthy. It could happen – Marianne Faithfull just kicked COVID-19’s ass! – but that’s only the reassurance part of what I owe you here. You still need that hug.
That’s about as good as I can do via the internet. Stay safe and in your homes, friends.
UPDATE 4/23: It did happen! This was an old flyer, and Soybean the dog was actually found a few months ago.Thank you for the info, Mara!
What we lost in the plague
I keep telling myself that I’m doing pretty well during the current stay-in-place orders. I’ve had a few freakouts and a few panic attacks and a lot of overwhelming emotions of various types at random times, but I’m not absolutely banging my head against the wall with boredom or terror or a need to purchase things in a brick-and-mortar store. The thing that tells me I’m not doing as well as I’m thinking I am, however, is the fact that I keep losing things. One gardening glove. A homemade face mask. A recipe involving greens and cooked oranges. Other than my daily walks around the neighborhood, I’m sticking inside my house and yard so I’m not understanding where these things are going. So yeah, maybe I’m not such a hotshot at this new reality.
Judging from the increase in lost and found notices I’ve been seeing lately while on my walks, I’m not alone in this absent-mindedness. This one that I saw the other day seems to be part of the new reality as well, in that the finder of the lost item absolutely does not care about the person claiming the item proving that they are the actual owner of the item. I found a thing and this is where you can find it if you lost it. Honor system. Not bad.
I didn’t go looking for the small plastic bag on the little wall. It’s not my knife. And I have a gardening glove I need to find.
Just your clown
I think I have decided to stop documenting my daily work from home outfits. On Monday I was fine, and put together some sort of Holy Mountain/Juliet Of The Spirits get-up:
but things were feeling a bit forced and I was also getting worried that I was veering into Mimi from The Drew Carey Show territory. Work has been as busy as ever, and finding outfits that I can sit in all day while concentrating has been a bit difficult. Cocktail dresses are 100% out of the question, as are cheap wigs and 20-eyelet combat boots.
Yesterday I looked down at my pants
and started seeing patterns that I knew weren’t there. This was especially troubling because I had already made a joke about “The Yellow Wallpaper” to a friend last week who had a fever and was self-quarantining in a golden-hued bedroom (she tested negative for the COVID-19, thankfully), and I don’t want any strange women to start climbing through the flowers into either of our lives. My house is crowded with strange men and girls and babies as it is.
So yeah, I’m going to quit this before things get to the point of no return. I have a serious job and an important reputation to live up to.
Now pardon me while I go fetch my emery board.
