Life among the hermetically sealed

I was preparing for locusts when the fires came. The fires are a good distance from us. We are safe, but the air quality is terrible. We weren’t going anywhere anyway. Now we’re hermetically sealed. I haven’t been outside in days.

Key words: We are safe.

Nothing to complain about. Many indoor amusements.

Art (or something like it)

I’m still having fun with my woodburning art. If nothing else, it’s a wonderful distraction while spending days on end at home. I didn’t want to clutter up the house with my masterpieces, so my completed projects are hanging in the garage until I decide what to do with them.

I asked a friend to look at my online gallery and pick out one for herself. She chose my favorite one so far! I used oil-based pencils for the deep, bold colors and standard colored pencils for areas with subtle shading. I love the range of reds and yellows, which she said will complement her living room furniture.

Pallet scrap burned and embellished with a combination of oil-based pencils and standard colored pencils.

I’m experimenting with a new technique on my current piece. I’ve used an acrylic paint glaze to color the larger areas, and now I’m adding a background design with burned-in dots. The glaze is sort of rustic looking, and I even sanded a little bit over it to roughen it up more. The glazing process is time-consuming, but I seem to have plenty of time on my hands.

Work in progress — the blots are colored with an acrylic glaze, and I’m adding a dotted pattern in the background.

Books & TV

On the entertainment front, I’ve been watching Anne with an E on Netflix. There are only three seasons, and I will be sad when it ends. Total escapism. The series is based on the Anne of Green Gables books, which I never read as a child. Sometimes childhood classics don’t hold up when you read them as an adult, but I still might give the series a try.

I’ve also found some books only seem to be written for children or young adults. I read all the Tarzan books in my 20s and loved them. Just so you know, Jane was badass! Other children’s books I’ve read as an adult include the Harry Potter novels, A Wrinkle in Time and The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. I also love the Stuart Little and Paddington Bear movies.

There’s something simple and healing about stories for young audiences. I might just make a regular thing of it. Do you have any favorite children’s books or movies you’ve enjoyed as an adult?

Food

As a foodie, I highly recommend the Food Network series, Amy Schumer Learns to Cook. She and her chef husband are quite the opposites and hilarious together. He likes to cook with fennel, and her reactions are priceless.

We went on another Mexican kick this week. Sometimes we just can’t stop ourselves. Dale made carnitas one night, I made chicken tacos another. Oh, and a dish I jokingly call huevos dineros. It’s my twisted version of huevos rancheros amped up for dinner. A crisp corn tortilla topped with homemade chili sauce, Cheddar cheese and a runny fried egg, accompanied by shredded iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, sliced avocados and a dollop of sour cream.

Today I’m making an overnight no-knead dough that will magically produce baguettes tomorrow. We’ll have those with a ripe Brie, Italian cold cuts and maybe some smoked salmon. Greens on the side. My sister sent us a beautiful assortment of balsamic vinegar, which will certainly have an important role in this meal.

Today’s dinner is unknown at this point, but we swore an oath it will be vegetable-centric to make up for the excesses we enjoyed earlier in the week.

My window friends

So far, I’ve stayed reasonably happy throughout the pandemic, mostly by cooking, creating art and playing golf. Now we have triple digit heat and rolling blackouts, and I’m thinking, what’s next? Locusts?

I can hang in the heat, but it really has been too hot to exercise outdoors unless you start quite early. Less golf means more time at home. Just me, Dale and the cat. At this point, I think we’re all looking forward to the day when we can take separate vacations.

Riley, our cat, is an indoor kitty. He likes to hang out by the front window and watch all the action. Two of the neighborhood cats visit periodically. The cats don’t show up at the same time, but both of them just sit outside and stare up at Riley. I call them his window friends.

One of the cats is a ginger. A boy, but so was Ginger Baker, so there. This little guy is quite friendly and has actually jumped up on our roof and stared at us through the upstairs window.

I don’t think Ginger likes it at his house, but then who would? Nice people but kind of noisy. Perhaps he would prefer the company of quiet misanthropes?

Maybe it’s the isolation catching up with me, but I like to pretend Riley is Gilligan, and his spot by the window is Gilligan’s Island. I keep telling him Ginger is coming to visit! We both get excited.

The other visitor is an adorable black and white tuxedo cat named Max. I call him the Professor. We’re still waiting for Mary Ann.

So, this is what it has come to. The dark side of the pandemic. However, there’s no escaping the harsh truth. The cat gets more visitors than we do, and I find myself parked by the window, wondering when they’ll be back.

Gentlewoman cannabis farmer

My cannabis plant at 16 days.

cannabis seeds are tricksy

In the continuing adventures of a gentlewoman cannabis farmer, you may remember I started growing weed indoors late last year. I ordered a kit from A Pot for Pot and 10 seeds from I Love Growing Marijuana (ILGM).

My first plant was excellent! I used a two-gallon pot, so the plant didn’t get huge, but it grew nice and bushy, ultimately yielding about 10 grams of high-quality cannabis.  

Then I tried again with terrible results.

Seed #2 – Grew to harvest, but it looked weird and didn’t form buds. The cannabis had zero potency. I consulted with folks at A Pot for Pot, and they suggested it was an unusual phenotype. Then I consulted with a forum on ILGM. One member said it was a bad seed. Another suggested my lighting was substandard.

Seed #3 – Never entered the flowering stage.

Seed #4 – Never entered the flowering stage.

Seed #5 – Failed to germinate.

At this point, I was debating my whole approach to growing cannabis. I’m using autoflowering seeds, which means it should be easy to grow smallish plants inside with normal light. With regular seeds, you need a tent or some other kind of contraption to create a cycle for the flowering stage … 12 hours of light and 12 hours of complete darkness.

Autoflowering cannabis requires less equipment, so it’s less expensive to grow. The trade-off is a smaller yield, and some say the weed isn’t as good. My first batch was excellent, so I’m not sure I buy that argument.

Then I thought about lighting. The guy on the ILGM forum suggested a different sort of light that costs about $300. I didn’t want to spring for the light until I identified the source of the problem. Were my seeds bad, or was I doing something wrong?

I wrote to the folks at ILGM, where I purchased my seeds and attached pictures of my failures. I didn’t expect my money back or anything like that. I was just hoping for insight. They have a “Contact Us” page that is pre-populated with questions. One asked if your problem was with seed germination, and if so, how many failed to germinate? That made me wonder if germination failure is a common problem.

Even though I did have an issue with germination, I picked “Other” because I had the experience of five seeds. I wanted a holistic recommendation before trying #6.

Although I didn’t get the holistic recommendation I was after, they immediately sent me 10 free seeds and said they were confident I’d have better results. I’m not sure what that means. Did they know there was something wrong with the first ones? Or it this just part of the cannabis seed business?

From what I’ve read, ILGM is an honorable company, but seeds are imperfect, and that’s why they are so accommodating.

I’m delighted they stepped up and replaced my seeds! I did not purchase a new light – still using the cone light I installed for the first plant. This time, I did not buy the kit from A Pot for Pot. Instead, I bought all the elements separately – seedling starters, fabric pots, potting soil and fertilizer.

I’m now about 16 days into my first of the new seeds, and the plant looks spectacular. If all goes well, I’ll have enough to make another batch of my cannabis balm, which I use with great success on all my achy body parts.

Coconut Cream Pie?

I have this urge to make coconut cream pie. I’ve never made it before, but it’s calling my name. The recipes I’ve found so far call for graham cracker crust, which I adore, but I think coconut cream pie should have a pastry crust. I’m on the lookout for a recipe. Bueller? Bueller? Anyone?

Woodburning with vibrant colors

My most recent piece of woodburning art is now featured in the Gallery. I purchased spendy oil-based colored pencils, which are vibrant! I actually like the cheapo pencils, too. They are more subtle and look almost like a weathered tattoo. But the color pops with the new pencils. I will most likely use both, sometimes together for different effects.

Details and links to products I’m using are in the tutorial, which can now be viewed on the Downloads page.

Light in heart

I’m feeling rather lighthearted. I’m ever hopeful Trump is going down in November. While I try not to talk about politics too too much, I make no secret of my stance on that miserable excuse of a human being in the White House.

For the record, I respect a multitude of values – from liberal to conservative – but I do not respect Trump or the criminals who enable him.

The Biden-Harris announcement feels good, like maybe this national nightmare is coming to an end. Maybe we can get back to understanding we are all in this together. Maybe we can gather to celebrate decency and civility, ethics, respect for science and diversity, agreeing to disagree.

I’m practicing visualization. I can see myself dancing in the street. Oh, and I might need a “Nasty Woman” t-shirt.

Retirement spreadsheets

Using spreadsheets for good not evil.

I started the year with only one goal and added another one in March. I hate it when that happens. Let’s hope having two goals isn’t the first step down the slippery slope to having three or even more, as I consider myself the queen slacker, the face of resistance to over-engineering retirement.

As an avid golfer, my first goal was to break 80 this year. I’ve only been at it for 20 years, so the time was right. Bingo! I shot 79 a couple of weeks ago, so that’s done. I guess that technically means I’m back to having one goal. The path should be clear for my return to mediocre golf.

My other goal is to survive the pandemic. So far, so good.

I retired from a job where everything was documented in quarterly reports and dashboards. That’s the last thing I want to do in retirement. Although I am handy with a spreadsheet, these days I use technology to help me with recreational activities! Here’s a selection from my files:

  • Reading list
  • Local Golf Courses I Can Walk
  • Cannabis Field Notes
  • Streaming List
  • Road Trips

What else is the queen slacker up to? Dale bought lobsters yesterday, and we had lobster rolls for dinner. I had leftover lobster salad on a toasted English muffin for breakfast. I drank strong coffee and scanned the news.

Did some puzzles and walked for about an hour. It seems like we spent the morning thinking about dinner. But I spent much of my career thinking about dinner, so that’s nothing new.

Dale’s making a dish we call Schnitzel on a Stick. He pounds a bone-in pork chop thin and then breads it and fries it in lard, which is actually better for you than butter. Also high in taste. Please don’t judge too harshly – there will be broccoli.

Speaking of animal fats, today we had a unique challenge that required my undivided attention for, oh, I’d say 30 minutes.

Mission bacon.

One of our favorite pork products – Wright Thick Sliced Hickory Smoked Bacon – has been increasingly difficult to find, but Amazon Fresh has it, so I stepped up to the plate and put together an online order for delivery later today. Who says I’m not busy?

Although I’m not scared of mediocre golf, I practiced putting on a matt out in the garage. A little music to go with. The Last Waltz. The Band.

As I was working on this post, Dale was at his computer reading the news, and he told me Joe Biden announced his running mate is Kamala Harris.

We like Kamala and think she’s a good choice, but Dale was upset because Joe didn’t tell him first. Dale’s like, you give a candidate some money and you expect more. I said, here’s the thing, Dale, I think Joe expected more money.

Still, we are proud to do our part and are ever hopeful a new day is coming.

Phases of retirement

A pallet scrap burned and colored. I like the coppery tones.
A darker piece of pallet scrap burned and colored. A little moodier, perhaps?

Optometrist

I went to the optometrist. Although I’m glad I went, it was the most uncomfortable I’ve felt in months.

My appointment was the first of the day. Masks required. Someone came outside and took my temperature with one of those remote gun-things. He asked me questions about fever, cough, etc. I passed the first test.

I was invited in and directed to wash my hands at a sink down the hallway. I did that. Then all the testing began. I signed up for two extra tests not covered by insurance, because I have weird things in my eyes (drusen) that could morph into macular degeneration at some point.

The doctor was thorough and made a small change to the progressive part of my prescription. She was reviewing test results from the fancy machines and wanted one of the images redone. I had to go back to another room, and at one point, it was me and three employees.

Other than Dale, it was the closest I’ve been to anyone since this whole business started, and I found myself trying to crawl into the wall. I didn’t say anything, mostly because it was over quick.

Then I went out into the optical area, where I was still the only patient allowed inside. I wanted my sunglasses replaced exactly as is – new frames but the same brand and style, same coatings, etc. So, that was easy. The technician asked me what I wanted in new regular frames, and I said something similar to what I have now.

She took me over to a wall and explained everything I tried on would be put into a basket for disinfecting. She pulled out the first pair, and I loved them. They are perfect. It was the fastest I’ve ever picked out frames in my life!

Now it’s a waiting game. Surprise – she said orders are taking longer than normal.

Artistic Endeavors

I’m continuing my relentless pursuit of nothing much in particular. I finished two more woodburning pieces and have started adding photos to my gallery. I still don’t know what I’ll do with these creations, but there they are.

Although I’m a novice at all artistic endeavors, I put it out there for you to see partly because it helps validate my experience … as in, yes, I am really doing this. It’s not perfect, but that’s OK. I also want to show how retirement activities evolve. Sometimes it feels like anything is possible.

I splurged on fancy colored pencils. They just came yesterday, so I haven’t had a chance to try them out yet. The cheapo ones are fine for now.  

climbing mountains

On the entertainment front, I watched a movie on Amazon Prime called, “Edie.” It’s about an 83-year-old woman in England who feels she wasted her life and now wants to climb a mountain in Scotland. It made me wonder about the definition of a wasted life.

Unlike Edie, I’ve gone after almost everything I wanted in life. However, in the grand scheme of things, I haven’t accomplished much. I consider making enough money to retire my greatest achievement. And here I am approaching 65, piddling around and relishing in simple pleasures.

I guess you could say the slacker retirement model works for me … at least for now. I am the happiest I’ve been. I don’t miss my career. I enjoy how I spend my time on the planet. Of course, the go-go model is another option, but I see that as just another race, only the rats are different.

But never say never. I suspect we experience different phases throughout retirement. Three years in, I might still be in my nesting phase, but something might switch over, and I’ll wake up wanting to climb that mountain. If we’re lucky, we get to make choices along the way.

I asked Dale what he thought, and his response was so profound I immediately ran to get a piece of paper and pen to write it down, but by the time I returned, we could barely reconstruct what he said. It was something like this:

If you can do what makes you happy and help people along the way, then that is a life well-lived.

Pretty good, yes?

Cheerfulness breaking through

The woodpile.

Pandemic Golf

Although I’m not sure what’s going on, the pandemic has been good for my golf game. I broke 80 for the first time! Golf is such a head trip, so it’s hard to know what finally helped me crack the code. One big boost to my game is that I play most of my rounds on a walkable course that is just under 5,000 yards from the forward tees and considered easier than most.

I am not ashamed. You still have to get the ball in the hole.

After walking 18 holes two days in a row, I was whipped and eager for a hearty he-girl breakfast. Dale delivered with sausage and melted cheese sandwiches on my homemade English muffins. I like mine with a little Dijon mustard. Dag, those things are delicious. Good coffee, and I’m ready for anything.

No Wood is safe

The course was backed up when I played Wednesday, and I had time to partake of my surroundings between holes. When what to my wondering eyes should appear but a broken tree limb begging to be decorated with my primitive woodburning technique.

The limb was long but not thick, so I stuck it in my golf bag like a club. It’s funny, no one asked what I was doing with a tree limb in my bag. I got it home and added it to the woodpile. Nothing out there is safe from a girl with a woodburning tool.  

Sewing? Surely you jest

In another dangerous development, I’ve been thinking about buying a sewing machine. This desire is perhaps an extension of my retirement fantasy life as a Bohemian heiress who dabbles in what amuses her.

I learned to sew back in the days when it was a required course for girls in the 7th and 8th grades. My mother was an excellent seamstress, and my sister is a gifted quilter and fabric artist. I made a few things as a teenager but generally failed life’s sewing test.

I had a basic sewing machine for years to make repairs but donated it to charity a couple of moves ago. I’ve been thinking about simple things that would be fun – nothing involving zippers or button holes … aprons, masks, kimonos. I promised my sister I would not make a move until I consult with her. When it’s safe to mingle again, I was thinking I could go to her house for sewing camp!

optometrist

Tomorrow I am visiting the optometrist. I badly need new glasses. I’m nervous about it, but I like all the safety protocols they have in place. I also asked for the first appointment of the day. I had a dream I went and had to spend hours and hours there without actually having my eyes examined. They kept coming up with reasons to keep me there.

Misery of the moment

All in all, I’m trying hard not to get caught up in the misery of the moment. I read this morning Trump has finally said what some of us have been expecting for some time – perhaps we should delay the election. It will take several mojitos to process that one. But the answer is no.

So far, I’ve contributed $285 to Joe Biden’s campaign and made a $75 donation to Jaime Harrison, who is running against Lindsay Graham in South Carolina … totally worth your support, if you are so inclined. I suppose they might squeeze a bit more out of me, but I’m close to my limit. I want both of them to win, but in reality, my money probably does more good at the food bank.

Cheerfulness breaking through

Today’s kind of wide open. I need new underwear and might brave a trip to Target. Could I have imagined a day when I would say that?

Making a Walgreen’s list for next week – seniors get a 10% discount on the first Tuesday of every month. I’ll probably burn some wood. It’s hot, so if I’m going to walk, I need to get moving soon. Maybe a nap later. Thinking about dinner, of course.

It’s not all bad out here. I keep thinking about Leonard Cohen, who said, “I’ve taken a lot of Prozac, Paxil, Wellbutrin, Effexor, Ritalin, Focalin. I’ve also studied deeply in the philosophies of the religions, but cheerfulness kept breaking through.”

Cognitive tests for dummies

A sampling of our Mexican cookbooks.

Cognitive tests

I’m no fan, but I’d like to thank President Trump for talking about the results of his cognitive test. Now I know you have to count backward from 100 by 7s, and I know I must avoid taking this test or I can say bye-bye car keys. The truth is, I can’t count forward to 100 by 7s.

Let’s call it a learning disability, but I struggle with math. In school, I barely got through algebra, and geometry was next in line to feast on the remains of my carcass. High school geometry was like going to class where everyone was speaking in tongues. I remember sitting there, dizzy with confusion, thinking, “Oh, fuck.”

I got into college anyway. That’s why God invented the journalism major.

Even today, I often use my fingers for simple addition. Dale calls it the digital calculator. As for cognitive tests, he suggested I apply for an accommodation. While other people have service animals, I would ask to bring my service calculator.

Although my earlier idea for a service cat didn’t work out, I’m willing to give the calculator a try. I’m already thinking about a name. A little vest.

COVID update

The COVID-19 numbers in our county are going up. Dale and I huddled this morning to reassess our situation and discuss course corrections. After a robust discussion, we concluded we’re already being quite prudent and are not making any changes at this time. That means we will continue to go to the grocery store as needed, and I will continue to play golf.

In a lot of ways, this is easier for us, because the closest family member is several hundred miles away, and we haven’t made any close friends since we moved here when I retired. This is pretty much how we lived before the pandemic.

We decided to stock up on a few essentials – mostly paper goods – but to otherwise avoid purchasing a lot of extra food. We have two refrigerators and a well-stocked chest freezer, so we feel good about our options. We’re also flexible about what we eat – if they are out of one thing, then we’ll have something else.

Pandemic hobbies for foodies

When I think about food, I am so grateful neither one of us is a picky eater. I can’t imagine how people arrive at conclusions about common foods they will and won’t eat. But then I’m in recovery. I was picky as a child but eventually grew out of it. Although I like some liver, about the only thing I won’t eat are entrails and internal organs. Just because it grosses me out.

We cook a lot of Mexican food, so we stock a hearty supply of dried beans – pinto and black. I recently concluded we are in a rut, relying on the standards we’ve made for years … tacos, burritos, tostadas. In wild pandemic craziness, I reorganized the cookbooks, and for the most part, lumped like-cuisines together. Oversized books have a special shelf and are in no particular order.

I found 14 cookbooks dedicated to Mexican food! I started going through them to learn more about the full scope of the food from Mexico and to see what we might have overlooked the first time around. It’s a fun pandemic hobby … if you’re a foodie. The first book I tackled was “The Cuisines of Mexico” by Diana Kennedy. It was published in 1972.

She writes about certain foods being nearly impossible to find in the U.S. – tomatillos, fresh tortillas. She even said Monterey Jack cheese was hard to find in some parts of the country. I remember buying cilantro for the first time at a Korean market in the early 70s, and it came in a pot. Of course, now it’s everywhere. When we lived in Germany the first time, we bought tortillas in a can. We are so fortunate these days to have such a wide variety of foods readily available.  

There’s a new documentary out about Diana Kennedy, who is 97. I haven’t seen it yet, but in the reviews, some question her legacy – a privileged white woman who became a so-called expert on Mexican cuisine? Others beat her up for being so puritanical about her version of authenticity. Still, she gets grudging respect as someone who did her research and earned her stripes.

I owe her one for teaching me to make tortillas. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.

How to be happy inside

A scrap of wood I burned … adding color afterward.

There are four things that get me out of the house these days – golf, walking, swimming in an outdoor pool and grocery shopping. I approach all with caution to reduce my risk. I see the first three as low-risk, at least the way I do it. The grocery store can be riskier, but I feel good about our approach.

We don’t do big weekly shopping excursions. Dale goes to the military commissary once or twice a month for the basics, and we supplement that with what I call “precision strikes” at the local grocery store. We might go for three or four things. We know what we want and where it is, entering the store like masked commandos to seek our targets, avoiding other customers like the plague (or COVID-19).

We are in and out in 10 or 15 minutes. Hand san after. Wash hands thoroughly when we get home. Throw masks into the washing machine. While everything carries risk, we feel reasonably safe going to the store. As for restaurants, movies, salons – anywhere you have to hang around inside for an extended length of time – we’re just not going there.

We never did it much anyway. Both of us have multiple interests that keep us amused at home. If our current approach to managing risk keeps us safe and healthy, we could easily ride this out for as long as it takes.

Those of you who are more sociable are probably having a harder time. I understand. And although I try hard to avoid preaching about anything from my bloggy pulpit, I do encourage everyone to broaden their range of solitary interests. Learn to create. For me, it has been life-changing.

In the past, most of my hobbies were sports-related. I guess they still are, but since I retired, I filled in the gaps with other creative pursuits … art, cooking and growing cannabis.  

I’ve never even dabbled at visual arts, but I took a mask-making class and then started experimenting with stone coasters. I liked it a lot, but coasters didn’t feel like anything I would want to sustain over a lifetime. The idea of making something useful appealed to me at first. That’s a symptom of my practical nature.

But with more leisure time and the freedom to think about something other than work, my brain began to wander. Maybe I am not practical by nature. Maybe I just adapted to survive. It’s not like a switch went off. I would say it was more like the slow turning of a dimmer that gradually illuminated the space in my brain. I began to appreciate the idea of art for art’s sake.

At some point, I decided to scavenge my neighbor’s discarded wood. It sat in the garage for a year while I mused about what I could do with it. I do not know what made me decide to start burning wood. But I did some research and bought an inexpensive beginner’s tool. I just finished my third piece. I’m still a complete novice, so it’s probably too soon to say this, but I might have found my artistic calling.

In my fantasy world, I would become good enough at wood-burned art projects so people would want my stuff. Then I could start an Etsy shop or something like that and donate 100 percent of the profits or proceeds to charity.

While I had a good job and am exceedingly grateful to have earned enough for a comfortable retirement, it came at the expense of exploring a more personal journey of expression. Some days it does feel like the end of the world as we know it, but nurturing my creativity keeps me happy inside and excited about life.

Retirement, even during a pandemic, can be an unbelievable opportunity to pursue nothing – and that is everything.  

Is pandemic hair forever?

My signature man bun secured with a silk scrunchie.
Another option for an updo.
Pandemic hair … slightly lopsided as a result of cutting my own hair at home.

It’s quite surprising to me, but I get a lot of blog traffic from Pinterest pins of my hair … especially the picture featuring my signature man bun. I adopted a low-maintenance style to save time and money in retirement, but it turned out to be a great strategy for pandemic hair.

And, yes, it’s looking like pandemic hair is my forever hair.

Texture

I’ve always had fine hair … a decent amount with plenty of body, but it’s weightless. Like fairy hair. My hair is not thinner due to age – I was born this way. Over the years, I’ve learned to embrace it.

My stylist would prefer I wear it a bit shorter, but she’s benchmarking me against thick hair. I like the way it looks, and extra length means fewer visits to the salon. With fine hair, wearing it longer also gives you more hair to twist around for updos.

Color

It has been 12 years since I dyed my hair. By the way, I managed to have a great career and got promoted with gray hair. It happens. Growing it out is painful, but once you get through it, no more fussing with roots. And everyone goes gray differently. Your color is unique to you. It can’t be replicated from a bottle, and that’s kind of cool.

Cut

Because my hair is fine, I do not have layers or bangs. Bangs just mean less hair, right? I haven’t had it professionally cut since January. Due to the pandemic, I do not intend to visit a salon anytime soon.

My new favorite way to cut is to part it in the middle and make pigtails. Then bring the pigtails to the front, tie them together and press your fingers on a line where you want to cut. I just snip the ends off. From the back, it’s slightly lopsided, but it’s good enough for me, especially since I rarely wear it down. I hope to improve on my salon skills over time.

For the record, I cut Dale’s hair, and it’s also slightly lopsided. Then I had to give my cat what might be referred to as a “sanitary clip.” Also a wee bit crooked, so we’re all in this together!

Care

I wash and condition my hair as little as possible, about twice a week. No styling products. No blow dryer. When it’s wet, I clip it in a bun on the top of my head. Take the clip out before I go to bed, and my hair is full and wavy when I wake up in the morning.

While I use a regular brush, I also use a 100 percent boar-bristle brush to distribute the oils and smooth my hair. The brush also “plumps” up my hair for better updos.

Most of the time I wear it in a bun secured with a silk scrunchie. I have a variety of clips, jaws and barrettes for other updos. I like it slightly unruly and let a few loose strands fall where they may.

For this version of low-maintenance hair, I think you have to like the way you look in short hair, because wearing it up will be your default much of the time. It’s like having short hair but easier in some ways.

Special Occasions

I might use a styling gel or root lifter and blow it dry with a round boar-bristle brush. I only do this once or twice a year.

Your pandemic hair

How is your hair holding up? Roots? Have you decided to buzz it off, grow it longer or go gray? Are you cutting it yourself? Or dare I ask … have you visited a salon?

The mojito report

Mojito, a cocktail made with white rum, lime, mint and club soda.
Blind taste testing club soda. See? Cloth face coverings have many uses.

The humorist Russell Baker said June was about making the seasonal switch to gin and tonic. Or as I always say, nothing spoils summer like brown liquor.

While I do enjoy a G&T, I wanted to try something different and decided July was about making the seasonal switch to the mojito. It has been a burden to test this for you, but I believe in giving back. This is my report.

The mojito is a Cuban cocktail with white rum, lime, fresh mint, sugar and club soda served over crushed ice. It’s a perfect summer drink. I experimented a little with ingredients and technique. Again, it’s all about giving back.

Rum

So far, I’ve only used Bacardi Superior, because that’s what we had. It’s smooth and subtle. I like it, although I am eager to try another kind for the purpose of scientific discovery.

Sugar

Some recipes call for sugar and some call for simple syrup. I made a batch of simple syrup and used that. It’s great. To make simple syrup, all you do is heat a cup of sugar and a cup of water and stir until completely dissolved. It keeps in the refrigerator forever.

Mint

Fresh mint is the only option, but there are debates on whether you should muddle the leaves. I tried it both ways, and muddled leaves released more mint flavor. Some say muddling makes the mint turn bitter, but I did not find that to be the case. To muddle, just put the mint in a cocktail shaker or other vessel and poke it a bit with the end of a wooden spoon.

Lime

One whole lime per drink. I don’t like to measure more than I have to, and I found most limes squeeze equally.

Club Soda

For you, dear readers, I did a blind taste test, which by the way, is another great use for your cloth face covering! We had some Canada Dry club soda, and I used that first. Then I bought a bottle of Fever Tree club soda, which is the fancy stuff. I tried that and declared it better, but I was wondering if it was all psychological. Hence the blind taste test.

I poured the water in small glasses and labeled each with painter’s tape. I asked Dale to mix them up while I turned away. I put on my mask, and he led me to the table and helped me put my hands on the glasses. Such a guy.

Honestly, I couldn’t detect a difference. They’re both delicious.

Instructions

Dale’s favorite cocktail is gin-based, so the mojito is just for me. I like that there’s a little labor involved, so I only have one and don’t run back for another. They go down pretty easy.

Put three or four mint leaves in some sort of a vessel. I use a cocktail shaker. Muddle gently with the end of a wooden spoon. Add two ounces of white rum, the juice of one whole lime and two tablespoons of simple syrup. I hate dirtying up measuring spoons, so I actually measured the tablespoons that come with our flatware, and they are, indeed, tablespoons.

I use a margarita glass and fill it about a little more than halfway with crushed ice. I drop one of the squeezed out lime halves into the glass. Pour the cocktail over the ice and then fill it the rest of the way with club soda. You can garnish with more mint for show, but I find it perfect as is.

Respectfully submitted,

Donna Pekar