California Dreaming

2020 to me could be easily described with a chart detailing the general state of the union and those living in it.  In January the arrow might been pointing perhaps to the right of center in the NORMAL (we’re never totally normal) section which would be at the far left. As the arrow begins to arc more to the right and things begin to go haywire the arrow moves quickly into UNUSUAL. By March the arrow had moved further right to WEIRD, finally ending up at the extreme right in DOWNRIGHT BIZARRE. In my estimation we have finally gone to as far right as we can without moving off the chart entirely. I’m beginning to think the atmosphere is so strange if an alien spacecraft were to land in Old Town Sacramento and little green men were to deplane right on Front Street someone would hand them a mask and not even give them a second glance.

I remember thinking in 2019 I couldn’t wait for 2020 to show up on the calendar. I had somehow survived my first year without Rick next to me in bed and was beginning to show signs of life again. 2020 looked to me to be fresh and untouched, the perfect blank page on which to start the beginning of a new chapter in my story. I found myself looking forward to it with guarded anticipation. Whoops, my bad.  Had someone said to me last year 2020 would be the year of the COVID-19 pandemic, our country would erupt with civil and racial unrest, police reform would be instituted across the board, and the whipped cream on the sundae would be a highly charged, contentious and divided political climate I might have once again headed towards the closet with my bag of fiery Cheeto’s and a bottle of Gray Goose. Sigh. Being by nature a rather silly being I am struggling to locate my sense of humor of late. It seems to have put up a sign like everything else in world, “CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE”.

Though California is beginning to awaken from it’s sleep with stores pulling up their blinds and beauty parlors turning their signs from CLOSED to OPEN, cases of the virus continue to be on an uphill climb. The world, at least for me, has gotten smaller. I find myself thinking about what I am doing wherever I am rather than just being able to enjoy the activity I am involved in. Masks have become part of my daily routine. Because I am one of only several who can still run a sewing machine in my peer group, I have been busy sewing masks for friends and family. Now along with my keys, my purse, and a bottle of water, one or two masks and a container of hand sanitizer are included in my must haves when leaving the house. Yesterday while in the market a lady smiled at me (she was not wearing a mask). My mask had frogs dancing across the front which I assume was what elicited this reaction. I smiled back but realized she had no idea I was smiling so I said “I am smiling, you just can’t see me.” to which she replied, “Yes, I can. I could see it in your eyes.” Even though she wasn’t wearing a face covering that was nice. People are angry. Let’s face it we here in the United States are not used to inconvenience. It is touted as a free country by its creators and we like to hold them to that promise.

The head of a grief group I am part of said something yesterday that rang true to me. We are being asked to learn a new way of being. Change for humans is never a garment we wear easily. Truly we are creatures of habit comfortable in our way of doing things and resistant to having things turned upside down. Sometimes there isn’t a Plan B. Right now I think we only have Plan A to deal with for at least for the time being. This totally sucks I agree but since we are all in the pot together perhaps it would be prudent to at least attempt to swim in the same direction?

My best friend calls me an idealist. I’m not a fan of labels, but perhaps this one applies. I tend to think the best of people out of the gate. Sometimes I am disappointed but more often than not I am not. I prefer thinking people to be honest, dependable, kind, generous of spirit and loving than to presume they are not. I don’t like the idea of waiting for someone to screw up and then pouncing on them the moment they do.  I believe most of our life we spend our time making mistakes, correcting the error, then heading in the right direction until we mess up again, and repeat. The important thing to my mind is we learn from these course corrections and hopefully adjust our behavior accordingly.

For my peace of mind and to locate a bit of normal in the midst of chaos my friend and I confirmed our reservations for a weekend getaway at the coast for much later in the summer. Three days basking on the beach, enjoying the beautiful California sunshine and doing nothing requiring any heavier thought than lifting a book to eye level and sipping something intoxicating from a straw. OMG. My mind is doing a tap dance just thinking of it. Yes. This I consider a total sanity check and I am already deciding what to pack in my overnight bag.

Keeping myself occupied beyond writing on my beloved blog, I have been working on several projects with my daughter as well as some sewing projects as I mentioned earlier. I also have my work with a non-profit I’ve been associated with over the past six years. I encourage those of you out there interested in doing some volunteering to sign up for whatever opportunities are available in your area. God knows we have some extra time on our hands these days. A lot of the jobs posted I have noticed are those requiring little interaction with others, with many being able to be done at home. There is nothing as soul nurturing as being involved with something altruistic that is not about you but rather benefits someone else. If ever there was a time we needed to nurture our souls I believe right now has a bullseye stamped right on it.

As much as I love to be in the kitchen I am trying not to devote too much of my day to preparing food. The downside to cooking is you are probably going to eat what you’re producing. Seems to me at least this would be the next logical step. Then as your pre-pandemic pant size begins no longer to be your mid-pandemic pant size you are forced to go shopping for new pants which in the present climate isn’t the safest place for you to be. Another downside is that many places won’t allow you to try clothes on as the fitting rooms are off limits. If you do go ahead and buy pants and take them home only to find they don’t fit, the stores won’t take them back because they are not accepting clothing returns. I have one friend who simply ordered a supply of yoga pants on the Internet in various sizes and is riding this out until the gyms open, which they are now trying to do, to exercise the weight back off. Good luck with that. It is usually a whole lot easier to load the pounds on then it is to peel them back off in my experience.

In this strange new “now” I find a lot of interesting things to look at personally. My creative self, often lost in the flurry of activity I always seem to immerse myself in, has risen to the surface. Dusting off my sewing machine was the first sign of this resurrection, quickly followed by my taking out my drawings I haven’t had, or rather made time for, in the last year or two, and a book I’ve had in mind for several years now has a first chapter rather than continuing to be just an idea yet unhatched in my tattered brain. Yay.

A friend of mine called yesterday to tell me mercury is in retrograde. This means, for those of you not in the know (like me – had to look it up) that Mercury is moving in the opposite direction of the Earth. This, if one believes it to be, effects communication, travel and learning. Good news. After I hung up I did some deep breathing exercises and then consumed a half a pint of Chunky Monkey. I tried to convince myself I was doing this as a sacrificial gesture to make room in my crowded freezer for more important items such as meat and frozen foods but even my own mind couldn’t wrap its arms around that pile of horse droppings. Sigh.

An hour of so later the phone rang once again. Looking at the screen lighting up I controlled the urge to run and save myself from whatever the dreaded retrograde was sending my way. In the end my curiosity overrode my survival mechanisms and I pushed the screen to accept and said hello. It was my hairdresser. We had our first appointment since the pandemic several weeks ago when my roots had reached the step just beyond critical and she put me beautifully back into balance. Lovely girl. Aside from being excellent at understanding how to color and cut my hair, she’s a charming lady who I enjoy talking with while my roots are cooking. I have only been with her the year since I moved but during that time we went through the usual hits and misses associated with getting a new hair dresser and had now had reached the happy zone just before the virus arrived. Before Emily there were three other ladies at my previous address and amazingly each one in turn just as I got settled moved out of state. What are the odds? Assuming this call was an appointment change of some sort I asked what was up. Wrong question. Why didn’t I grab the vodka and make a run for it? Hindsight really is 20-20.

Emily, it seems, and her husband and three children have decided to move to Texas and are leaving in two weeks. Really? Is it me? Who was I in my former life Vlad the Impaler? Why can’t Mercury just go in the same direction as Earth? Apologizing for the short notice she assured me her friend in the same salon would have my color specifications in hand for my next appointment and take good care of me. Please. This isn’t my first hair salon break-up. Last time I got a similar assurance and she dyed my hair the color of merlot (I am definitely more chardonnay). Ugh.

So my chin is held high. I am deep breathing like a long-distance runner and trying desperately to keep the faith and allow the happy thoughts to have their way with me. Hope you all are doing the same. Until next time – stay safe.