April 2, 2020
I need to start writing more. I’ve been escaping into social chat rooms. And wine.
And sometimes food. It’s good. I need my friends. I need the wine. And the laughter.
We all do. I’m not taking the best care of myself but I also think this is a phase. It’s
spring break right now.
And sometimes food. It’s good. I need my friends. I need the wine. And the laughter.
We all do. I’m not taking the best care of myself but I also think this is a phase. It’s
spring break right now.
Spring Break.
I’m supposed to be in New Orleans. With the numbers of COVID19 cases there,
I’m sure glad I’m not. And I’m glad I didn’t go for Mardi Gras like I had wanted to.
I’m sure glad I’m not. And I’m glad I didn’t go for Mardi Gras like I had wanted to.
Spring Break.
I’m not going anywhere. I’m not working, but that’s my job. To not go anywhere.
Maybe when I can focus for more than 15 minutes at a time, I’ll catch up on grading.
Maybe I won’t. I have a lot of thoughts about this and that’s it’s own entry.
Maybe when I can focus for more than 15 minutes at a time, I’ll catch up on grading.
Maybe I won’t. I have a lot of thoughts about this and that’s it’s own entry.
Spring Break.
That began as a clusterfuck of construction right outside my door. Jackhammers, pavers,
cranes, you name it. Three different projects at the same time. Thankfully, Governor
Newsom gave orders on March 31 that beginning April 1 only essential construction may
continue. They did have to come back to complete the sidewalk for safety reasons, but
it’s as quiet as downtown Redwood City gets. And there’s a leaf blower, which I’m pretty
sure isn’t allowed, but where is the tattle number? Do we have a 3-1-1 like New Orleans?
cranes, you name it. Three different projects at the same time. Thankfully, Governor
Newsom gave orders on March 31 that beginning April 1 only essential construction may
continue. They did have to come back to complete the sidewalk for safety reasons, but
it’s as quiet as downtown Redwood City gets. And there’s a leaf blower, which I’m pretty
sure isn’t allowed, but where is the tattle number? Do we have a 3-1-1 like New Orleans?
Which brings me to something else.I don’t like living here very much. This chapter of my
life has been all pragmatism, with some super fortunate perks of adoring my job and colleagues,
and being close to nature. But I am not in nature, and I don’t have a garden or a yard. Normally,
these things don’t bother me. I’m never home.
life has been all pragmatism, with some super fortunate perks of adoring my job and colleagues,
and being close to nature. But I am not in nature, and I don’t have a garden or a yard. Normally,
these things don’t bother me. I’m never home.
I’m always home.
Now I am ALWAYS home.
I try to imagine myself in the house I do love. On Desire street in New Orleans. I imagine
my beautiful wood floors, and the crafstmanship of my friend Mike in several rooms. I try
to imagine my backyard, usually too hot to sit in, with the screened in porch I plan to have
built one day. I imagine the various colors of hibiscus, the smell of night blooming jasmine,
the sweet olive scents of Esplanade avenue.
I imagine my tiny bedroom tucked into the back of the house, poorly measured, terrible
closet, door to the backyard which is not very useful. I imagine my gigantic kitchen and
know that if I were there, someone would be living with me. Wishing it was Corry and whatever
dog she would have at the time.
I imagine my plentiful cupboards of food to cook for people. And Corry choosing a recipe that
takes hours for her to make, and uses every single bowl, pan and plate in the house. It would
take a lot of time to cook and clean from that.
A good filler. Because it's that time in the kitchen that is the most social for me.
I imagine my neighbor practicing her classic piano, and opening up all of my windows so I
can hear her more clearly. I imagine the Calliope with it’s annoying sing-a-long sounds, the
deep udder of the port vessels.
my beautiful wood floors, and the crafstmanship of my friend Mike in several rooms. I try
to imagine my backyard, usually too hot to sit in, with the screened in porch I plan to have
built one day. I imagine the various colors of hibiscus, the smell of night blooming jasmine,
the sweet olive scents of Esplanade avenue.
I imagine my tiny bedroom tucked into the back of the house, poorly measured, terrible
closet, door to the backyard which is not very useful. I imagine my gigantic kitchen and
know that if I were there, someone would be living with me. Wishing it was Corry and whatever
dog she would have at the time.
I imagine my plentiful cupboards of food to cook for people. And Corry choosing a recipe that
takes hours for her to make, and uses every single bowl, pan and plate in the house. It would
take a lot of time to cook and clean from that.
A good filler. Because it's that time in the kitchen that is the most social for me.
I imagine my neighbor practicing her classic piano, and opening up all of my windows so I
can hear her more clearly. I imagine the Calliope with it’s annoying sing-a-long sounds, the
deep udder of the port vessels.
Here in my tiny condo that sits on a train track in Redwood City, I try to remember that just
three miles away is some of the most beautiful forest on the planet. And slightly further, the
rugged coast is intoxicating. It’s not that far. It’s not even a day trip. I could go for an hour. But
not right now. Because my job is to stay home, and I am working.
I am working very hard at staying home.
When this initial Shelter in Place is lifted, I am going to need to go sit with the trees. I haven’t
listened to them in a while and what they say is pretty important.
three miles away is some of the most beautiful forest on the planet. And slightly further, the
rugged coast is intoxicating. It’s not that far. It’s not even a day trip. I could go for an hour. But
not right now. Because my job is to stay home, and I am working.
I am working very hard at staying home.
When this initial Shelter in Place is lifted, I am going to need to go sit with the trees. I haven’t
listened to them in a while and what they say is pretty important.
When we are all done with this important work we are doing- staying at home- I am going to take a drive
out on the curviest road I can find out to the sea. I am going to smell the salt air, and put my toes in the
water. I am going to breathe it all in. I'm going to breathe.
I need to breathe more.
out on the curviest road I can find out to the sea. I am going to smell the salt air, and put my toes in the
water. I am going to breathe it all in. I'm going to breathe.
I need to breathe more.
When we are all done working so hard at staying home, I’m going to cry.
I can’t do that now. I have to save that for later, because I’m busy working and I’m afraid that once
I start, I’m not going to stop. I’ve already lost two people in two vastly different places. I know there will be
more, so for now I hold onto my tears.
This is why I’m working so hard staying at home. And not crying. Yet.
I can’t do that now. I have to save that for later, because I’m busy working and I’m afraid that once
I start, I’m not going to stop. I’ve already lost two people in two vastly different places. I know there will be
more, so for now I hold onto my tears.
This is why I’m working so hard staying at home. And not crying. Yet.
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