Category: Health & Wellness

Vaxed to the max

We passed our post-vaccination 10-day waiting period and are now vaxed to the max. My first foray into the “fully vaccinated” zone was quite lovely, although my next attempt fell short. Here’s what happened.

Although I’ve played golf throughout the pandemic, I’ve been quite cautious and have avoided certain events where it was assumed we would get together afterward. I was not comfortable getting too close to people, indoors or outdoors.

One group I play with is particularly social, and I have avoided them for the past year. But I found myself missing the fun and signed up to play in an event now that I’m somewhat immune. It was cold in the morning, but by the time we finished, it was sunny and delightfully warm.

The course had an outdoor patio, where everyone gathered. Some were socially distant, some were not. I purchased a beer and sat down near the hub of activity but far enough away to feel at ease. I took off my mask, and there in the soothing sun I sat, sipping and chatting and feeling pretty damned happy.  

I think this was the first face-to-face conversation I’ve had with anyone other than Dale in over a year. Such a simple pleasure!

On the way home, the radio played in order:

  • The End (The Doors)
  • Truckin’ (Grateful Dead)
  • White Rabbit (Jefferson Airplane)  

Great music kind of put me in the mood to party. We’ll have to wait and see how that unfolds. I’m not sure I remember how to party. But I do feel optimistic that Dale and I can enjoy a wider variety of activities without putting ourselves at undue risk. However, I’ll go out on a limb and share my prediction.

By and large, Americans are done with lockdowns, and they’ve told themselves this is over. Many are going to behave with wild abandon and COVID, in some form or fashion, will be persistent for another year. And yet there’s a chance enough people have either had the virus or the vaccine, and we’ll turn this ship around. We can only hope.

My next thought was a return to swimming. My three-year-old swimsuits are a bit saggy from wear and tear, so I thought it would be fun to go to Target and see what they have. I masked up and headed out. I have been to Target only once during the pandemic, and that was to buy kitty litter, which I later learned could be delivered to my door.

I collected a handful of cute suits and made a beeline for the fitting room. It looked like a crime scene, as in all taped up and not open for business. I stood there for a few minutes, just staring at the empty space, kind of in shock. The possibility of the fitting rooms being closed had never occurred to me. I turned around and drove home.

As it turns out, my sister-in-law had the same experience, and she said even if you buy a swimsuit to try on at home, you can’t return it. So, I’m back to Amazon. Free shipping both ways.

Next in the queue are haircut, dentist and dermatologist. We have some home improvements on the list, but we’re going to wait a bit and see how the virus behaves before we commit to having anyone in our home.

Oh, and last week marked 22 years since I was diagnosed with Stage 3 ovarian cancer. I’m in a small club of lucky long-term survivors, and no matter what happens, pandemic or no pandemic, I will be forever grateful for my good fortune.

You can read more about my experience in this post from a couple of years ago.

COVID-19 vaccination: Part II

We received our second doses of the two Pfizer vaccines, and it was a bit underwhelming. Having been through round one, you sort of know what to expect.

Although we faced the possibility of weather delays impacting our doses, everything went down without a hitch. We drove to the same indoor mass vaccination site, and the only difference was double masking.

Prior to entering the building, we were provided with a surgical mask to wear over or under our cloth masks.

Neither of us had any side effects. My arm was a little tender to the touch, but that’s it.

Still, it feels great to be fully vaccinated. I know it’s not a get-out-of-jail-free card, but as I understand it, of all the participants in all the vaccine trials, no one went to the hospital for COVID or died of COVID. That includes the Johnson & Johnson vaccine, which gets a bad rap because it’s not quite as effective in preventing mild illness.

But if there’s a 100 percent chance you won’t go to the hospital for COVID and a 100 percent chance you won’t die of COVID, then I’d say the vaccines work. All of them.

I’m not a medical professional, so please feel free to correct me. I’m sensitive to percentages, and numbers aren’t always what they seem, but I do know 100 percent is good. I was diagnosed with Stage 3 ovarian cancer years after my ovaries were removed during a routine hysterectomy.

According to what I’ve read, there was a 99 percent chance I would not get ovarian cancer with no ovaries. I drew the unlucky number. However, the statistics indicated I had a 25-30 percent chance of living five years, and I’m about to celebrate my 22-year cancer anniversary.

If only they had a cancer vaccine that prevented hospitalization and death.

I’ve been reading about people cheating to get the vaccine ahead of schedule, and I can’t believe someone with musical talent hasn’t already done a parody of Harry Belafonte’s old song, Jump in the Line. I think one of the refreshed lyrics could read:

Don’t Jump in di line, jab your body in time

(Okay, I believe you)

In absence of said parody, feel free to sing it around the house.

One week closer to a haircut

While I thank you very much for your most helpful comments about my hair, I hate looking at that picture, and I hate thinking about my hair. I’m no closer to a solution, other than to just get the trim next week as scheduled. As one wise reader said, the hair in my profile picture is probably the right length.

Barbara, a long-time reader from when I used to write about gray hair on my blog Rock the Silver, has suggested in the comments section on my last post a hairstyle she calls Fuchsschwanz. It sounds great, so I’m going to do a search for that and then see what happens.

I was happy with my hair for years, so I don’t know why I’m all of the sudden riddled with doubt, other than pandemic wear and tear. Is it possible there’s an end in sight and perhaps we shall be released from captivity?

In terms of re-entering the world, I’m ready to look good for a change. Even if it takes a little more effort.

Travel bragging

My foursome in golf yesterday included a woman I shall describe as a “travel bragger.” I don’t know the exact roots of this affliction, but I’ve seen it before, and I think it’s about fulfilling life’s dreams, and I certainly shouldn’t be critical of that, but …

She cannot stop name-dropping all the exotic places she’s been and where she’s going next. I could see having that conversation afterward, perhaps in a post-pandemic world with clubhouses and cocktails, but I prefer a quiet game regardless. About the only words I want to exchange during golf are, “Great drive” or “good putt.”  

After hearing about the holy land, Bratislava and wine tasting in Portugal, she said, “Do you travel much?” I said no. I wish I had just stopped there. I find one-word responses minimize the flow of chatter. But always the pleaser, I added, “We traveled a lot when we were younger and lived overseas for quite a few years.”

It’s like I opened the floodgates. Where? Oh, what was it like? To me, it was a complete distraction. I guess it’s not travel bragging when it’s your passion. I do recognize golf is a social game, so I will continue to work on conversation management. Once the clubhouse opens again, I might say, I’d love to talk about it – are you staying for a drink afterward?

Might work.

COVID-19 vaccination: Part 1

Meyer lemons from our neighbor’s backyard.

Our yard does not get much sun, and what little we get is reserved for tomatoes and hot peppers. Our neighbors, on the other hand, have nothing but sun, and we are the lucky recipients of their surplus citrus. The Meyer lemons are spectacular this year.

Don’t you love the little box? They might even want it back. I’ll have to put some baked goods in there as a thank-you.

We use Meyer lemons as you would use any lemon, but when we get the motherlode, I juice them with ginger root, add simple syrup and freeze in quart-sized tubs. When I want juice, I melt a scoop of the frozen stuff and mix it with a bit of water. Delicious.

Vaccination Update

Exciting news. We have received our first vaccinations at a mass vaccination site run by Sutter Health, our healthcare provider. We did a dry run Saturday, as the site is a good 45 minutes away and in an unfamiliar area. I’m glad we did, as it made the Sunday drive to the site much less stressful.

We live in a quiet suburb but drove through a much larger town on the way to the vaccination site. There was a lot of traffic for a time when people are supposedly staying home. We passed several malls, and the parking lots were full. By the time we got home, I felt like we’d been to Dallas and back.

Dallas is kind of a joke between us from our days of living in Fort Worth. Dallas has a lot of cool things to do, but its bigness always scared me, and I couldn’t wait to get home. But then there’s the song Dallas as sung by Jimmie Dale Gilmore, and it makes me love it some.

Anyway, we got there early, because I can’t stop myself. It was a huge healthcare facility that looked like it was shut down before being repurposed as a mass vaccination site. Plenty of parking. We could see a long line full of masked old people. Us!

Dale and I both had appointments, but his was about 30 minutes behind mine. I said I was going for it and asked if he wanted me to text him if I thought he should get in line, too. He said yes.

As I was walking toward the line, I heard two women talking, and one said they ran out of vaccines. I was like, oh, crap, this can’t be happening. But I pressed on, and an employee kindly said to get in the line on the right if you had an appointment. The line on the left was for people who just showed up expecting to get vaccinated, and they were simply waiting to make an appointment for another day.

I asked about my appointment – does that mean I’m getting the vaccine? She said yes. I was afraid Dale would overhear the rumors about vaccines running out, so I texted him to ignore that, we were good. He acknowledged.

Then I asked the nice attendant about my husband. I explained he was about 30 minutes behind me. She said just have him join you in line – they’ll take you together. I immediately texted Dale, “Come now.”

Then it was hurry up and wait. No sign of Dale. I could see our car and his little bald head just sitting there.

Still sitting there.

As I was getting closer to the front of the line, I broke down and called him. He finally joined me and explained he had received another text from our neighbors about the lemons and assumed the beep from my second text was more of the same, so he ignored it.

Texts. So hard.

Everyone was super nice and professional. All the lines were marked to keep people socially distant. Upon entering, we saw a sign that said, “Today’s vaccine is Pfizer.” Dale thinks that is the best one, so he was happy. I would probably take the 7-Eleven vaccine if they had it.

We showed our ID, and they confirmed our appointments at the entrance. Then we stood in a short line before arriving at a standing station, where they asked if we’d had contact with anyone who tested positive, had symptoms, etc. They gave us a handout about the vaccine. Then we waited for a sit-down station, where they confirmed everything again.

The shot itself was completely painless. From there we moved to another station, where someone recorded our vaccinations and gave us COVID-19 Vaccination Record Cards. We got appointments for 21 days out, which will put us at Feb. 28. She stuck a post-it note to the card with the time we were allowed to depart the facility.

In the interim, we would sit in a holding area for 15 minutes to see if we had any reactions. Seats were spaced six feet apart. When it was safe for us to leave, they asked us to put the post-it note on our chair so they could disinfect it afterward. Slick!

After we got home, I played a round of Wii golf to keep my upper body moving, while Dale exercised his martini arm. We both slept well and feel fine today. Maybe a little drowsy. Slight soreness at the injection site. I usually get fever and chills from the regular flu shot and did not have any problems with this one.

All in all, the mass vaccination site was a first-class production, and we feel lucky to be in a relatively early group of those 65 and older. As I understand it, two weeks after the second shot, we’ll be as protected as you get. Of course, this doesn’t factor in variants and all that, but it does give us some wiggle room.

March 14. If all goes well, that’s when we’ll have whatever passes for full protection. I’m thinking about changes I will make, and I’m not going to lie, it’s fun. I’m pretty sure I’ll get a haircut. Maybe dine at an outside restaurant. Go wine tasting if it’s outside. Swim again! Unless the variants get out of control and our vaccines aren’t up to it, camping is back on the table.

I made sure to thank everyone at every station for their work. Oh, you get the occasional bad apple, but most medical professionals are truly special people, and I am forever grateful to them. And the researchers who were able to develop these vaccines in such short time! It’s amazing when you think about it.

Go science!

Art, relationships and sourdough

Making sourdough starter.

Our health care system announced Monday they would be opening appointments for anyone over 65 “later in the week.” I logged into my account to make sure it worked, and I told asked Dale to do the same. We would need to act quickly when the time came. After I logged in, I could see all my information, but you still couldn’t make appointments.

I decided to check in every morning and every night, figuring it would go live before they announce it, and all of the sudden it would work. And that’s exactly what happened. Dale was still eating breakfast when I called him upstairs to log into his account.

Oh, but did he listen to me when I expressed my desire for him to test his account? Of course not. The password didn’t work, and we messed around with that for 30 minutes until he finally got a replacement password.

Although I was rather annoyed with Dale, we got appointments for tomorrow, so I got over it pretty quickly. I never do this, but I demanded an apology. Seriously. He claimed it was a misunderstanding, which is his way of saying he’s sorry, and I forgave him because after 42 years, why not?

That was Thursday, and I have still received nothing from our health care system announcing the COVID vaccination feature on the website is active. Sometimes it helps to be crazy neurotic.

For some reason, I became irrational with fear that I wouldn’t be able to keep the appointment. Being somewhat of an over-zealous pandemic warrior and part-time hypochondriac, I decided to take my temperature, which was 98.6.

I’m usually in the 97 range, so I freaked. As I was trying to calm myself down, I thought, even in the grandest cosmic joke of all times, I would not get COVID on the same day I made my vaccine appointment. Plus, I felt fine, no symptoms whatsoever and only left the house once to play golf during the last 10 days.

Coffee! I had just had two cups of coffee when I took my temperature, and I wondered if that made a difference. I waited a couple of hours and took my temperature again, and again and again. Because as a functioning hypochrondriac, I have three thermometers! One digital from CVS, one digital from Walgreens and a mercury. All three put me in the 97 zone.

You can’t make this stuff up.

We’ve not been to the mass vaccination site, so we’re doing a test run today. Normally, Dale would complain about the overkill, but he knows he’s barely out of the dog house, so he’s on board with whatever I want at this point. My pledge to you is that I will not abuse this power.

Sourdough starter

In other news, my sourdough starter is underway. So far, so good, but I’m prepared to fail.

I’m following instructions in the Tartine cookbook and so far feel mildly confident it will work. I used a pint-sized tub filled about halfway with lukewarm water and a 50/50 mix of bread flour and whole wheat flour – enough to make a thick batter. After three days in a cool dark place covered with a dish towel, it bubbled and smelled funky. That’s when you start the feeding cycle.

Every morning, I discard 80 percent of it and add enough water and flour mixture to make another thick batter. Cover and return to its hiding place. I’m not sure how long this goes on – possibly a week – before I can actually bake with it. I’m keeping a log, so I can report back to you on how the timing works.

For now, we’re in the feed and wait mode – not unlike many of us riding out the pandemic.

Feed and wait.

Damaged goods

In other striking parallels, I’m working on a new woodburning piece, and I am once again in awe of the lessons I have learned through working on damaged wood.

I accept the pallet scraps are flawed, and nothing I can do will make them perfect. Perfection isn’t even on the radar. If I make a mistake, I just mess with it until the mistake looks like I did it on purpose. If I start to think, oh, this is ugly, I switch to, hey, cut yourself some slack, it was trash!

Working on wood scraps reminds me that we are all damaged goods. Proceed accordingly and remember, whether it’s art, relationships or sourdough, all you can do is practice and forgive.

Living large at home

Number 15

California’s governor lifted the much-maligned stay-at-home order just in time for a winter storm to roll in, and all of the sudden everyone wants to, um, stay home. Apparently, freedom’s just another word for let’s stay warm and dry.

Some businesses are starting to open again, although we aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. While I hate to admit this, I’ve become quite comfortable here in my nest. I do get out for walking and golf, but that’s it. Once in a while I get this idea I need to go out and buy something, but then I think, oh, I could just get that on Amazon.

In some ways, it will be hard to push myself out the door when the time comes. Dale’s not far behind me. He keeps a pair of binoculars by his desk that faces a window overlooking the street and reports on daily activities.

“Oh, it looks like the Johnson clan is getting new appliances.”

We really do need to get out more.

In the meantime, I’m grateful for hobbies that keep me amused. I finished another piece of woodburning art, ceremoniously named Number 15. This would be the successor to numbers one through 14. Creativity is sometimes stretched thin during these unprecedented times.

I made it for my dear friend, Carole, whose house has a lot of blue and green. I didn’t want to mimic her colors but instead complement them. It took great discipline to stick to the color scheme, as my previous works seem to be an explosion of reds. I did add just a tiny splash of red and yellow for character.

When I uploaded the piece to my online gallery, I was surprised how different it is from my other examples. I like the all-colors-are-welcome approach, but sticking with a palette is interesting, too.

This time I used a combination of acrylic paint and pencils to fill in the designs I made with the woodburning tool. Because I used so many greens and blues and have a limited supply of paint and pencils, I concocted custom colors for the first time. My sister, The Michaels Whisperer, tells me I can buy a book that essentially provides recipes for color-mixing.

As for scrap wood, I have a couple pieces left. I told asked Dale to be on the lookout and suggested he might want to drive through the neighborhood to see what people are tossing. Not all things are visible from his observation tower by the window.

Although I said in my last post I wasn’t particularly productive, several of us got into a discussion in the comments section and Tamara wondered if engaged is a better word. In addition to my golf addiction, I’m definitely engaged in a number of creative pursuits, to include cooking, baking, writing, growing cannabis and practicing art.

Still, I avoid overengineering my time and try not to make a job out of it.

While we all look forward to a cornucopia of post-pandemic options, I’m not waiting for it to end before I start to live. There’s something to be said for a simple but enjoyable lifestyle that is sustainable through good times and bad. I am fortunate to have a choice, and my simple pleasures in no way mitigate the pain and suffering others are experiencing throughout this ordeal.

I might not be living large, but I’m living large at home. As best I can, anyway.

Home spa failures

The home spa is somewhat of a failure.

My hair is driving me nuts, and my cuticles are super-glued to my nails. My toes literally shredded the bottom of the bedsheet. I won’t even talk about my skin of many zits, but when this business is over, I’m going for some sort of deluxe spa treatment. Or maybe I could just run myself through Super Suds at the car wash.

Yes! Better than the Wheel Deal, better than the Ultimate and maybe even an overnight stay for detailing.

I want to walk out clean and shiny with all the dings repaired. Beauty base zero.

Although my hair looks good, my scalp itches, and I find hairs all over the house. I wonder if I am losing abnormal amounts of hair. Or is it breaking? I have dreams it drops off in clumps.

I would love to get an assessment from my stylist, but that is not within the art of the possible at this time. And so, I turn to poor, beleaguered Dale.

Would you look at my scalp and see if anything is going on?

Like what?

I don’t know. Redness. Scabs. Lice.

Sure.

We get under a light, and he pokes around for a while. Then he said, “Your hair is too dense. I can hardly see your scalp.”

Seriously, that is like dirty sex talk.

Oh, me of fairy hair? Dense? According to Dale, my hair is fine, but there seems to be plenty of it. What he could see of my scalp looked pink and healthy. In a miraculous display of the mind-body connection, my scalp stopped itching.

I don’t want to complain about staff at our home spa, but they can barely keep up. Praying the professionals arrive soon.

Public Service Announcement

I feel kind of bad I didn’t let you know this sooner. I mean, we’re almost a year into the lockdown, right? But it’s time you know the truth about public restrooms.

Yes, they’re mostly filthy, but there are unique moments in life when you won’t care.

You. Will. Not. Care.

Due to the pandemic, many of them will be closed when you need them the most.

For example, let’s imagine you are on the way to the golf course and have an unexpected bathroom emergency. You know from past experience the convenience store on the left won’t let you use theirs. Good thing Taco Bell is right next door! McDonalds is a few blocks further, but sometimes that is a block too far.

Let us imagine you walk up to the Taco Bell, which appears open, but the doors are locked. And you might imagine yourself pounding on the glass like Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate, “Elaine! Elaine!”

And in this totally fictitious situation, it would seem the drive-thru is indeed open, but because of the pesky pandemic, you can’t go inside. Literally.

This could get ugly fast, so in the interest of public service, I wanted to let you know many of the restrooms you formerly used while out and about may not be available to you during these unprecedented times.

Sure, you could always go to an empty church parking lot and stuff tissues down your pants, but this is only a temporary solution.

Taco Bell is dead to you, and you can’t always count on the Les Schwab Tire Center across the street to let you use theirs. But when some saint of a woman at the desk says sure, you will be forever indebted.

Be careful out there.

Today is not yesterday

Cannabis tincture. Just a couple of drops from the dropper can ease anxiety.

Yesterday was a low point for me. Politics, pandemic, familial squabbles. I could feel my body and mind withdraw, and my only thought was enough is enough. And I say that as someone who has it easy.

This morning, I added a couple of drops of cannabis tincture to my orange juice. It’s so calming. A little miracle, really.

I make my own tincture, but if you live in a place where it’s legal, most dispensaries sell it. Mine is alcohol-based, so you have to mix it with something. Be careful not to overdo it. Go slow and start with just one or two drops, gradually increasing until you get the desired effect.

Most commercial tinctures are made with glycerin, so you put a drop under your tongue. Same advice about going slow. Either way, I highly recommend giving cannabis tincture a whirl. To me, it’s medicine.

My morning read includes an email newsletter called California Today from the New York Times, which I subscribe to. Today’s installment included an interview with a guy who has studied the far-right movement for many years. He said they’ve been around a long time and aren’t going away, but they never had a “sponsor” at the national level until Trump.

Perhaps I am naïve, but it gave me hope that once Trump is gone, they’ll go back to being a horrible splinter movement to be reckoned with but one without top cover at the highest levels.

Feeling better, I was pleased to see the stay-at-home orders for our region have been lifted. While the restrictions are based on the number of ICU beds available, they actually think people are being more cautious about masks and gatherings, and the numbers are starting to stabilize. That’s almost a minor miracle at this point.

We’re now in the purple tier, which allows for outdoor dining and other activities. There’s not much in the purple tier that applies to us. God knows, I’d love to get my hair sawed off, but I’m not going into a salon. While Dale and I aren’t venturing out anytime soon, it feels good just the same and will hopefully pacify the people who are so inclined.

We want to see happy people!

In another minor miracle, it is absolutely beautiful outside, peaking this afternoon at 62 degrees. I had supermarket sushi for lunch out on the patio, where I daydreamed about how joyful life will be further on down the road. Maybe we’ll be vaccinated by April? We’ll still have to be careful, but it will alleviate some pressure.

To celebrate that today is not yesterday, I’m going for a long walk and will not be wearing my usual 17 layers.

It gets better if you just hang on.

Less important things to think about

The screaming match that passes for news is tough to take these days, and I’m keeping myself pathologically busy so I don’t have time to sit down and read much of it. While I do care, I don’t like to get too stirred up about current events. I have less important things to think about.

I heard a song that kind of sums it all up. Soapbox, by Brent Cobb. My favorite line is, “Well, hot dog, your opinion is louder than mine.”

Still, I was happy the Supreme Court rejected the Texas bid to overturn election results. The Washington Post printed an op-ed that listed all the Republicans who publicly supported the effort. I mentioned to Dale our congressman, Tom McClintock, was on the list.

Doing his best Darth Vader impression, Dale said, “The sickness is strong with this one.”

There are two pandemic songs I like very much. Stay Home by Shinyribs and Quarantine Blues by Steve Poltz. Guaranteed to make you smile.

We are eager to get the vaccine, but we’re definitely not first in line. I wonder about my previous cancer experiences and how that figures into risk. I don’t have cancer now, but did my treatment affect me long-term? I’m pretty sure chemotherapy is an immuno-suppressant, but that was more than 20 years ago, so does it even matter? I really don’t know, and since I am quite healthy now, I’ll just wait my turn.

I’m not much of a Christmas person, but I promised Dale I would support the whole tree-decorating thing and be of otherwise good cheer. I’m hanging tough, but he does not make this easy. It takes Dale a full week to decorate the tree, and it’s like an ornament bomb went off in the living room.

If it were me, I’d have that thing done in a snap, and then I’d put everything away, and then I’d go into a mad cleaning frenzy so we’d wake up to an immaculate house the next morning. But that’s me. Just a kid with a dream.

We like to watch the Lord of the Rings trilogy at Christmas, so while I expressed my support for Dale’s unique timetable, I also suggested we hold off on movies until the tree is done, the presents are wrapped and all the associated paraphernalia (as well as the collector’s set of Amazon boxes) is out in the garage for the remainder of the holidays.

I think he agreed, but you never know.

Meanwhile, I’m getting primed to take on some sort of big cooking project. Croissants are on the list. A tough challenge to be sure and certainly less important than the shenanigans of Republican snollygosters.

Which suits me just fine.

Post-Thanksgiving cooking fiesta

Homemade marshmallows dipped in chocolate.

It’s the post-Thanksgiving cooking fiesta at our house. I made marshmallows and got them all shipped off today. There were a few left over, so I decided to dip them in chocolate. The dipped version wouldn’t survive the trip to parts unknown, so I don’t want to hear any complaints if you were on my mailing list.

However, if you’re hankering for chocolate, I melted some chocolate chips in a small pan and added just enough cream to loosen it up a little. Dip and done.

For the turkey, we had cold turkey sandwiches and hot turkey sandwiches with gravy. Dale froze one whole breast and trimmed up the rest of the meat, which we’ll use in soup and some sort of casserole. Some of the options are turkey enchiladas, turkey pot pie and turkey divan.

I made stock out of the turkey carcass this morning. Tonight is Comfort Food Tuesday, so we’ll skip turkey tonight and have burritos or chimichangas from Dale’s homemade refried beans. This last batch was made from black beans. He sometimes uses pintos. I like them both!

While we do use canned beans for some dishes, we mostly start with dry beans and cook them in the Instant Pot.

Dale also made a salsa from his homegrown Trinidad scorpion peppers. They are among the hottest peppers on the planet, as measured by Scoville Heat Units. As a point of reference, jalapeños have 2,500 to 8,000 SHU’s. The heat level varies considerably from pepper to pepper.

Trinidad scorpions, depending on which variety, register from 1 to 2 million. As in, kids don’t try this at home. The first time I tasted Dale’s salsa made with these peppers, I sat on the stairs and cried. He has since learned a little goes a long way, and now I actually love it.

That means I’ll make soup tomorrow. It has carrots, celery, mushrooms, turkey and barley. I have this one little trick that makes the soup especially delicious. When I’m straining the stock, I save some of the meat and the cooked vegetables and then whiz it up into a paste in the food processor. We call it the flavor bomb, and I add a couple of spoonful’s to the soup.

I’ll make blue corn muffins to go with the soup. We got hooked on blue corn anything while visiting New Mexico, which in my opinion, has the best Mexican food in the U.S. Blue corn can be hard to find, but it’s worth the trouble. I purchase blue cornmeal for muffins and blue corn masa for tortillas on Amazon.

Stupidity gone wild

The virus is getting bad around here. It seems lots of people are getting together for big social events, and it will probably get worse in the weeks to come. We’re super-cautious to begin with, but we had a serious conversation about whether we need any course corrections.

We’re still going to the grocery store. We don’t do “big” shopping, and that may work to our advantage. One or both of us will shop for just a few things and get in and out quickly. Masks, hand san, social distancing.

My sister and many others wipe down the groceries or even quarantine non-perishables in the garage. I mean, you gotta do what feels right for you, but everything I’ve read says that’s not necessary. Just wash your hands again after you put the groceries away.

Even though I believe my swim protocol is safe, it’s one less place I need to go, so for now, no swimming. I’m still golfing and continuing to be very, very careful. I decided not to play in the women’s group until things improve, mostly because that’s the only time so many women are on the course. We hit from the same tees, so you have be careful your playing partners don’t get too close. And then all those women using the restroom …

I went out yesterday as a single and played with some men, which makes it easier as far as tees and restrooms go. I overheard them complaining to the starter about me joining them. Spoiler alert: unless it’s your own private course, that’s how it works.

For revenge, I outdrove them, birdied the first hole and then had a string of pars. They were pretty nice after that.

New slippers

Finally, with all this staying home, I decided to upgrade my slippers, or as Dale calls them, garden shoes. I never go barefoot and wear Crocs or Birkenstocks around the house. A stiff shoe is good for my back and knees.

I’m one of those people who buys everything in black, but I decided to cut loose this time. I don’t know if it’s retirement or the pandemic or what, but I bought pink fur-lined Crocs, and I love them!!

It’s funny how a small thing like fuzzy pink slippers can lift your spirits.

Waiting for marshmallows

A snip from my reading spreadsheet.

New covid restrictions

Our county was among most in California that got bumped back down to the strictest tier of COVID restrictions. I go four places – the golf course, the grocery store, the library and the outdoor swimming pool at my health club.

I believe the library will have to close, but I can still get curb-side pick-up and digital books. The health club can no longer have indoor activities, and I would be surprised if they keep the pool open. Perhaps no swimming for me.

All in all – no big deal. We are prepared to ride this out. As social misfits, it seems like we were born to hunker down. Even before the pandemic, I’d freak if the doorbell rang. Who could that be? What do they want?

The governor is also thinking about a curfew. As in maybe shutting everything down by 10 p.m. OK by me. I forgot people stayed out that late. And I’ve long maintained nothing good happens after midnight.

Just so you know, I am an equal opportunity critic. Governor Newsom went to a dinner party at the famous Napa restaurant, The French Laundry. Aside from the ridiculous cost when people in the state he represents are suffering and dying, and normal restaurants can’t survive, people from several different households attended the dinner. It was outdoors, so he thought it was OK.

Seriously. He should know better. I like the guy and overall, I think he’s doing a good job, but that was just plain dumb. To his credit, he apologized, which is something his critics in Washington can’t seem to manage. I can forgive someone who makes a mistake and admits it.

I think a lot about why people can’t band together and do what it takes to control the spread of this virus. I’ve concluded some people are just stupid or arrogant, and others lack the discipline to stay the course.

Remember the marshmallow test? Social science researchers put a marshmallow in front of a child and said she could have a second one – but only if she can last 15 minutes without eating the first one. The kids who can hold out for double the payout presumably have the willpower to do well in school, work and life.

Somewhere along the line, it seems we ended up with a boatload of people who can’t wait for the second marshmallow. And here we are.

Comfort Food

That’s why God invented comfort food. I’ve been making a list of our favorite decadent dishes we hope to make over the next several months. Of course, we don’t eat like this every night.

  • Stuffed Cabbage – cabbage rolls stuffed with ground meat (we use bison) and rice and simmered for hours in a hearty tomato sauce. Served with dark rye bread and European butter.
  • Transylvanian Layered Cabbage – a casserole with layers of sauerkraut, rice, sour cream and a mixture of ground pork, diced bacon and thin-sliced smoked sausage that has been well-browned. Served with dark rye bread and European butter.
  • Venison Meatloaf – a retro meatloaf made in a ring mold. Seasoned with onion soup mix, topped with a tangy ketchup-brown sugar sauce and smothered with melted jack cheese. Accompanied by wide egg noodles in a thick poppy seed-sour cream sauce.
  • Roast Duck – duckling roasted crisp in the oven with a slightly sweet orange sauce. Maybe some wild rice and a veggie to go with, but it’s all about the duck.
  • Beef Stroganoff – thin slices of beef tenderloin browned with sautéed mushrooms in a sour cream-shallot sauce. Served over wide egg noodles.
  • Porchetta Tarts – individual free-form tarts in a pastry crust filled with a pork-pancetta mixture, seasoned with fennel and sage and served with sage-butter sauce.

non-edible entertainment

As for entertainment you can’t eat, I’m back on the Department Q series by Jussi Adler-Olsen. For some reason, I had a hard time getting started with The Marco Effect, which is fifth in the series. I’ve checked it out three times and never read it, finally going back one more time. And it turned out to be my favorite so far. I think it was election stress that kept me from focusing.

All of the sudden I’m a fan of British crime shows. I started with Unforgotten, free on Amazon Prime. I absolutely adore Nicola Walker as DCI Cassie Stuart leading the department that investigates cold cases. The show is less about violence and more about how crime affects people’s lives.

I’m just starting River, which is on Netflix and also features Nicola Walker. Amazon has a bunch more British crime shows, but most of them are not on Prime. BritBox would be another option, but I don’t want another subscription at this time. We’ll see how long that lasts!