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

After the fire, the flowers bloom

Desert chic with mask.

Although our garden tomatoes are in abundance and quite luscious, we also like the heirlooms from a favorite vendor at the farmer’s market. It’s supposed to be 100 degrees here today, so we headed out early in hopes that we could be back in time to walk/run before the heat kicks in.  

I’m wearing what I call desert chic with mask. It’s all about the fashion statement. Oh, for those of you who may be new to the blog, yes, it’s true I don’t have breasts. I had a mastectomy without reconstruction and am living the flat and fabulous lifestyle.

Anyway, we wanted a stash of tomatoes for a tomato pie I make with cheddar cheese, basil and a biscuit crust. But as we were getting into the car, I said, “I don’t have to make tomato pie. We could do Greek salads again, if you’d rather.” Dale said nothing.

Did you hear me?

Yes.

Well, what do you think?

Yeah, that sounds good.

Seriously! That is not a response. This is a binary choice, Dale.

Oh, you!

I may as well be saying blah, blah, blah, and you’re like, yeah, that sounds good.

We both started laughing, which is a form of grace these days. Then we decided we could actually do both. I made a command decision and said, OK, we’ll do the pie tonight and the salad later in the week. He makes bread for that, so the ball is in his court.

As they say on TV, during these unprecedented times …

Sane and crazy

Sane: I saw some people at the neighborhood park having a socially distant get together. Each chair had a balloon tied to it – I guess as an easy way to keep them six feet apart. Or maybe just for the party effect. Such a simple little gathering, but it made me happy.

Crazy: Our county numbers are still pretty good in comparison to the rest of California, but the whack jobs driving up to South Lake Tahoe to party are making it harder for everyone. An article in this morning’s newspaper quoted a visitor who said, “Everybody seems to be pretty healthy, so I don’t have a concern.”

I can’t even speak to that.

Woodburning

My first two woodburning projects on pallet scraps.
Current woodburning project on a piece of teak patio furniture that was damaged in a fire.

I’m continuing to work on my woodburning projects. It’s quite therapeutic. When I wrote my first post about it, Bobi shared a comment that it reminded her of Zentangle. I checked that out, and it’s pretty cool stuff. I might take a class someday. In the meantime, I’ve been looking at lots of Zentangle images to give me ideas.

The biggest difference is that Zentangle is on paper, which is a perfect surface. I’m using recovered wood and burning it. Although I’m a novice woodburner, I think it’s safe to say wood does what it wants. Sometimes you just can’t get a smooth line. The tool hits snags and resistance.

Just like us! That’s one of the reasons I like burning wood.

I have noticed a big difference between the pallet scraps and a piece of teak scavenged from our neighbor’s bench that was damaged in a fire. Teak is smoother and burns cleaner. And the coloring is different, too.

Perfection is not my goal. In fact, the less perfect the better. The burned bench might be my favorite surface so far. It has a story, a history. I like hanging out in the garage, imagining the possibilities, listening to music and letting my mind run free.

Somehow, it gives me hope for the future. After the fire, the flowers bloom.

Stop and smell the goose poop

Ice wine slushie and garden tomatoes.

Today is Wednesday, and normally I would be playing golf in my weekly league. However, last Wednesday, I played so well on the front nine that I felt physically ill trying to live up to my short-lived reputation on the back nine.

The league is not exactly high-stakes competition, but there’s a point system and bragging rights. I got ahead of myself and started feeling over-confident … thinking about the win instead of staying centered and enjoying the game. I decided to take a break. Time to stop and smell the goose poop.

Much to my surprise, I find myself wanting to be more sociable. As an introvert and dedicated homebody, I really thought I could go forever without talking to anyone. I was actually delighted when the clubhouse closed in response to the pandemic.

Now I’m thinking, gee, I don’t know. Life is pretty hard, and who knows how this will all end? What’s wrong with a little party before the lights go out or come on again? Even when reality sucks, can we not find a way to celebrate the moment?

The very idea of being sociable is all speculative at this point, but I can see it happening. Dale is desperate to talk to someone other than me, so I’m pretty sure he’s on board.

Until such time, we continue to party in small ways by cooking and eating well. The chana masala I made was absolutely fantastic, but the naan wasn’t very good. The bread was too cracker-like. I want to try again with a different recipe.

The backyard tomato harvest is on. We had Greek salads – coarsely chopped tomatoes, cucumbers and onions. Garnished with feta cheese and a few Kalamata olives. Dressed with good olive oil and red wine vinegar. A spray of oregano. Dale’s homemade bread for dunking.

We repurposed the bread for BLTs – always delicious with homegrown tomatoes. Then tostadas. A crisply fried corn tortilla topped with mashed black beans, cheddar cheese, lettuce, onions, tomatoes and guacamole.

BTW – I do the NY Times mini crossword puzzle every day. One of the clues this week was an ingredient in guacamole. The answer was onion. I say no! That’s crazy talk. Avocado, lime, salt and a hint of garlic powder.

Onions in guacamole. Yes or no? Your vote matters.

Whenever Dale roasts a whole chicken, we freeze the carcass. I had two carcasses, so I made stock yesterday. I splash some olive oil in a stock pan and add a rough chop of celery, onions and carrots. Sweat those out and add the chicken. Cover with water. Plop in a little cheesecloth sack stuffed with fresh parsley. Simmer for three hours. Strain and freeze.  

I don’t eat on the mornings when I play golf, so we celebrated my day off with one slice of bacon each, toast made from Dale’s homemade bread and eggs scrambled in the bacon fat. I recognize we had bacon earlier in the week, and I apologize for setting a bad example.

We’ve been eating outside. Music, food and drink. That might cure what ails you. I invented a refreshing dessert perfect for al fresco dining. I’m calling it an ice wine slushie. You probably don’t have ice wine sitting around, but somehow, we accumulated several bottles.

Start with 13 ounces of ice wine. Add 3/4 cup of water and six tablespoons of sugar. Simmer for two minutes in a saucepan, cool, and then put it in an ice cream machine. It doesn’t freeze solid, so I put it in a shot glass, and you take a little sip as the sorbet melts.

The flavor is unbelievable, and it’s a thoroughly pleasant way to end a meal. Then when it gets dark, we take a dip in the pool. Swimsuits optional.

Yes, we’re taking time to smell the goose poop, enjoying our simple pleasures and practicing for the parties in our future. How are you celebrating the moment?

Syrup comes from trees

Pure maple syrup.

My seasonal allergies kicked in this week, resulting in post-nasal drip and a little cough, cough, and pretty soon you think, oh shit, this is it. However, I stayed inside for a day, drank a lot of water and my sinuses cleared up. Another bullet dodged.

I haven’t been within six feet of anyone except Dale. I always wear a mask and wash my hands fanatically, but still. This is scary stuff. As a bit of a hypochondriac, I decided to proceed with what I’m calling my early warning system. I ordered one of those pulse oximeters that measures your blood oxygen saturation levels. They say it’s a good way to catch a drop in blood oxygen levels, which can be a dangerous sign of COVID-19. Around $30.

We get a free newspaper we call the Village Idiot. I was reading it during breakfast this morning. They did man-on-the-street interviews, asking people what they were doing for the July 4th holiday. One guy said he was going to the Bay Area. One person said she was going to Utah for a family reunion. I almost choked on my granola. Why not swing by South Dakota and swap a little spit at Mount Rushmore while you’re at it?

Another woman said she was having a barbecue. While Dale insisted it could be just cooking up ribs for her family, having a barbecue sounds like an event not a cooking technique. I just wonder if any of these people are paying attention.

We’re not going anywhere. It’s not exactly traditional fare for America’s Independence Day, but I’m making chana masala, which I would describe as chickpea curry. The base is onion masala. I made the base yesterday, and the fragrance was intoxicating. Onions, spices, garlic, ginger and tomatoes all stewed together in the Instant Pot. I gave Dale a little taste, and he said just give me a spoon and we’ll have that.

BTW … I don’t use canned chickpeas. They’re fine, but I like the taste of beans when they’re cooked from scratch. And they’re so easy! I add dried unsoaked chickpeas to the Instant Pot, add water to cover and cook at high pressure for an hour if I want them on the soft side. For more bite, maybe 45-50 minutes. Then I freeze them in the liquid. Perfect for homemade hummus and other dishes like chana masala.

The big experiment today will be naan, Indian flatbread. I’m excited to try it. We have a small outdoor pizza oven, a Roccbox, and I’m going to cook the bread in that.

Food is starting to seem like the last good thing left of civilization. Dale and I both love to cook, but I’ve definitely gone down the rabbit hole since the pandemic started. We weren’t big into restaurants anyway, but now that’s not even an option for us until maybe next year. Cooking has been my savior throughout all this. And the more I cook, the more I want to cook.

The pasta I made this week came out great. I learned it helps to let the rolled-out sheets of pasta dough dry a little before cutting it into noodles. To reward myself for such genius, I ordered a pasta drying rack. I’m eager to try ravioli, perhaps stuffed with butternut squash and topped with a browned butter sage sauce, but I want to do tubular pasta a few more times to ensure this week’s success wasn’t just a one off.

One downside of all this cooking is the urge to splurge on kitchen stuff. I try not to indulge unless I absolutely positively need it, but I have my eye on several items: a gratin pan, a ravioli mold, a tart pan with a removable bottom and a waffle maker.

The waffle maker is high on my list because when are we going to get those again? Besides, the last ones I had in a restaurant were disappointing. Oh, and when I asked the waiter if they had real maple syrup, the guy looked at me like I was a complete asshole and said, “Well, it didn’t come from a tree.”

Armchair travel and pesto

My Chopped basket. I think I’ll make pesto and homemade pasta!

Today is one of those days where everything feels hard. It seems like everyone out there is mad at everyone else. The news is horrible. I go for a walk, and I have to dodge people left and right to keep six feet away. And, oh, if I want my favorite masks for golf tomorrow, I’d better run another load of wash. I had an appointment to swim laps, but I canceled. Swimming has become such an ordeal.

I decided to stay home. Isn’t that crazy? It seems like most people are itching to go out and do normal things, but sometimes I think we still need a respite from the madness. For me, it means retreating to what’s comfortable. Simple pleasures.

First thing’s first. Lunch. While I eat mostly healthy unprocessed food, I do love me some Cheez Whiz on fresh celery. I’ve been quite the cookie monster lately, so that was my meal, but a tasty one it was. Lunch at home always seems like such an indulgence after years of poking down something at work. It’s actually one of my favorite things about retirement. Well, and breakfast.

Have your lunch habits changed since you retired? I hope you are enjoying something delicious …

Next step was downloading what is turning out to be a pretty good book about hiking the Appalachian Trail. A little armchair travel is good for the soul. I don’t actually want to hike the AT, but I love to walk and am always looking for inspiration. Over the years, I’ve given a lot of thought to doing some sort of long walk, but I have so many caveats I usually give up.

In the Great Big Picture Book of things that scare me about a long walk, here they are in no particular order:

  • Peeing
  • Cliffs and drop-offs
  • Wild animals
  • Pooping
  • Murderers
  • Rapists
  • Bad knees
  • Bad back
  • Weather
  • Sleeping
  • Eating
  • Social distancing

That’s just for starters. For now, I’m gradually increasing my mileage with the idea of doing a long day hike that starts after breakfast and ends before happy hour. That seems doable.

Dinner is always a topic of high interest at our house. Since I decided to avoid the world today, I wanted to cook. I was going to make Chana Masala, but we didn’t have all the ingredients. And it’s not like going to the store is easy.

However, we did have some lovely basil from the garden, so I’m making pesto. I’m also making pasta from scratch. I’ve made pasta before with great success, but I don’t do it enough to feel as though I’ve mastered it. I always make sure we have back-up pasta.

That should get me through the day. And it’s Tuesday! Chopped night on the Food channel. Thank you, universe.

Suddenly popular!

Not too cute to wear a mask! Proudly sporting a cloth face covering made by Maru, a cherished reader who is a Stage IV cancer survivor and fellow graduate of the Taxol School of Hard Knocks.

New Friends

In spite of social distancing, I’m suddenly popular. I’m not sure God understood me when I said doing my best blind hermit imitation, “A visitor’s all I ask. A temporary companion to help me pass a few short hours in my lonely life.”

Thoughtful folks from all over the country are calling me day and night … about my health care options. I will turn 65 in September, so it’s all about Medicare supplements, but still, it’s the thought that counts.

I did sign up for Medicare and got a message it was approved. I am not drawing Social Security yet, so I assume the next step will be setting up some sort of process for paying monthly premiums. As for supplements, Dale is retired military, so we have Tricare for Life as our secondary.

This might be a good time to whisper a sweet nothing in his ear, “Thank you for your service.”

My other new friends are the Biden people. I donated $100 to his campaign, and I got a personal email thanking me for my contribution! He said, “We will send a lot of messages to you, Donna, because you are our lifeblood. You kept the lights on when people swore we were about to pack up and go home.”

They like me, they really like me!

While I don’t look forward to lots of emails, I officially welcome them to bombard my inbox if that’s what it takes. Just doing my part for America.

Escape fiction

Bored? Need a good book? I just finished Three Hours in Paris by Cara Black. The setting is World War II. An American woman, who is also a sharpshooter, is in the United Kingdom with her British husband, and she is recruited for a secret mission to assassinate Hitler. Things go wrong, her handlers in the UK have abandoned her and she’s on her own in Paris trying to survive as Nazis hunt her down.

This is what they mean by escape fiction! I usually don’t like WWII books, but I couldn’t put it down.  

retirement marches on

All in all, the virus sucks, but even when the shit hits the fan, I believe it’s possible to stay safe, busy, happy and fulfilled.

I review my retirement cheat sheet daily:

  • Play golf
  • Practice golf
  • Cook
  • Arts & crafts
  • Walk
  • Write
  • Housework
  • Home maintenance & repair
  • Weights
  • Read
  • Brush the kitty
  • Stretch
  • Swim
  • Tend my cannabis garden

It’s a busy day, and before you know it, it’s happy hour.

Mandatory masks

California went to mandatory masks indoors and where you can’t maintain social distancing. I love it. Makes most activities safer for everyone. We went to the farmer’s market and saw a few people without masks. I saw one woman, all dolled up and maskless.

Dale: What’s her excuse?

Me: She’s too cute to wear a mask.

Anyway, Dale and I agreed we can’t let it piss us off when we see selfish people violating the mandates designed to protect us. No muttering, just keep moving and stay six feet away.

Dale needs to make a trip to the hardware store, but the last time he went he said no one was wearing mask. No one. That was before the new requirements. But still, it makes him nervous … he said it was no county for old masks. I said it was no county for old men, and we both laughed.

Black Pepper Cookies

For the record, I’m not yet tired of my homemade peanut butter cookies. I’m prepared to go the distance … one cookie per day for the rest of my life. However, Dale had a craving for my black pepper cookies, which are an all-time favorite.

I used to make them for work events, and one of my colleagues asked me to bring her a separate stash so she wouldn’t have to share. Which I did.

BTW, they’re another pandemic-friendly cookie. The pepper won’t fight off the virus, but the recipe calls for just a few ingredients that are probably in your pantry anyway. We like them with lots of pepper, so I use two generous teaspoons of coarsely ground black pepper.

A cool trick from King Arthur is to wander around your kitchen and find unusual tools to press your cookies. They suggest a potato masher, among other things. My favorite is the bottom of the tube from our food processor. I do love circles.

These cookies freeze well and are delicious straight from the freezer, where you should keep them so you don’t eat them all at once.

Black Pepper Cookies

A hot-sweet cookie almost like a spicy peppery shortbread … easy to make with simple pantry ingredients. Originally from Sunset magazine.
Print Recipe

Ingredients
  

  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1-2 tsp whole black peppercorns, coarsely ground
  • 1/4 cup butter
  • whole black peppercorns

Instructions
 

  • In a food processor, combine flour, baking powder, 3/4 cup of the sugar and ground peppercorns. Whirl until blended.
  • In a small saucepan, stir butter over medium heat until browned, stirring through the white foam to check. Add to the flour mixture and whirl until the dough forms a ball. If after a minute or so, it's still not in a ball, just put it in plastic wrap and squeeze together until it forms a ball.
  • Pinch off 1-inch pieces of dough and roll into a ball. Arrange balls, slightly apart, on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Dip the bottom of a small glass in the remaining sugar and press each ball gently to about 1/2 inch thickness. Press a peppercorn into the center of each cookie. Sprinkle with additional sugar, if desired.
  • Bake on the lowest rack of a 300 degree oven until browned on the bottom, about 20-25 minutes. Transfer the cookies to a rack and let cool completely. Store at room temperature or freeze. They're delicious right out of the freezer!

Doodling in the time of pandemic

On the right is my newest attempt at art or something like it … woodburning on a pallet scrap. Left is an older experiment on wood with acrylic paint.
A close-up of my woodburned doodles.

I saw a headline whereupon Dr. Fauci said normalcy is unlikely until next year – and I thought, “Wow! Only a year? That’s nothing.” In the Army, we used to say we could stand on our heads for that long.  And doodling. I’ve got that going for me.

My county has some of the lowest infection rates in California. Still, Dale and I are more vigilant than most. The fitness center re-opened with lots of restrictions … all meeting with my complete approval. They don’t call me the sanitation marshal for nothing.

Lap swimming resumed by appointment only. I went Saturday and am going again today. I wear a mask as I enter and leave the facility, do not use the locker room and change out of my suit from underneath my swim poncho.

I’ve started limiting the amount of time I spend using my computer and cell phone … partly because I don’t think it’s healthy to stare at a screen all day. Seems like I would have learned that from work! Here I am retired, doing the same damned thing. I’m also paying less attention to the news.

It turns out I can stay informed without subjecting myself to electric shocks every 20 minutes.

More time outdoors

While avoiding the blue screens, I’m spending more outdoors. Golf has always kept me outside for long periods of time, and that’s a good thing. In addition to my regular schedule of walking, Dale and I resumed our weekly hikes, which were abandoned earlier in the pandemic.

The weather has been great, and I thought, why not read a book outside under the beach umbrella? A little staycation. I’m starting to go through our treasure trove of cookbooks and discover recipes we overlooked the first time around.

Growing cannabis

I’m working to up my game as a gentlewoman cannabis farmer. My last batch was disappointing. Didn’t look right, didn’t smoke right. No potency. Perhaps I had beginner’s luck with my first grow, but I think something was wrong with this seed. Hence the name – bad seed.

I have two plants growing. One was outdoors, but I got worried about pests and brought it in. They are propped together by the window sharing the LED light, and I can only assume that’s not good. But I guess I’ll ride this out to the end.

Part of the problem is I’m growing ruderalis, which is an autoflowering plant that is easier to grow but not particularly robust. I’d like to try growing a sativa/indica hybrid. One plant can yield a year’s worth of pot. But to grow a plant like that indoors, you have to trigger the flowering stage, which means at some point I have to create a place where the plant can have 12 hours of total darkness.

I’m not much of a gardener, so I’d like to keep this simple. And inexpensive. Of course, what did I spy with my little eye but a fancy and beautiful contraption that would be perfect, especially if you live in a place where you have to hide it. Only $2,000! Dale said that buys a lot of weed at the cannabis dispensary.

I’m thinking a cheap grow tent that doesn’t do anything but block out light when I need that. I don’t want to invest in hydroponics, fans, dehumidifiers, etc. I’m still reading up on my options. What is it they say, cannabis is not addicting but growing it is?

Art that says, “I was here.”

Finally, you might recall I scavenged a wood pallet from a neighbor’s pile of debris. Dale broke it up for me. I got this idea that maybe it would be fun to get started in woodburning. I researched it online and then got an inexpensive ( $25) woodburning tool for beginners.

When I first started this project, I thought I should try to work through any emotions I had associated with the pandemic. It turns out I don’t have any! At least not now. It is what it is. Science. Reality.

I don’t know how to draw real things, but I used to doodle spirals all the time during online meetings at work. I sanded the wood scrap and then started in on the spirals, later filling it in with tiny dots. Two coats of spray-on varnish. Nailed it to the fence as an embellishment and plan to make more, some with paint and color to add variety.  

Dale said it reminded him of primitive cave drawings. Not particularly artistic, but enough to say, “I was here.”

Our spirit animal

Our coyote friend came back to take another snooze by the pool. He appears to be a juvenile. Well-fed and healthy. I was out of the house early to play golf, so I don’t know what time the coyote bolted. Dale said he looked out mid-morning, and the coyote was gone.

I think he’s our spirit animal – sent to share a message. Reminding us to not take things too seriously and to seek balance between wisdom and playfulness. As I researched this further, I learned coyote symbolism warns us to beware of the dark side of things and reveals the answers to your problems often come in ways and forms you least expect.

Since the coyote first showed up, we’ve done quite well backing away from COVID arguments, which are principally focused on surviving shopping expeditions and managing territorial issues in the kitchen.

While it’s easy to assume these issues arose from being crushed together during pandemic sheltering, it might also result from being crushed together during my retirement, whereupon I discovered that I liked staying home … which is where Dale likes to hang out, too.

We’ve learned that both of us staying home fighting for space while the world is on fire is a dark place to start when you’re just trying to make dinner.

The thing is, we both like to cook. And with cooking comes control. When I was working, Dale basically had squatters rights in the kitchen, but now he has to share his toys. But it’s not just space or equipment. It’s about choices. What are we going to eat? How are we going to get it? Are you going to use that fresh spinach before it goes bad? Mexican … again?

We had a close call earlier this week, but I managed to defuse the fire with quick action … a skill I’ve been perfecting of late, perhaps with the help of our spirit animal. It involves pressing my lips together and keeping my mouth shut.

The situation was chicken breasts. As you may recall, I defrosted and re-organized the chest freezer. At the time, we only had one chicken breast left, so I put it in a Ziploc with thighs and labeled it, “Chicken Breasts and Thighs.” Makes sense to me.

Normally, Dale likes to buy the frozen chicken breasts individually sealed and you can just cut one off as needed. But when the stay-at-home mandate first started, those were hard to find.

When individually sealed breasts showed up again, Dale purchased a package and put them in the freezer. No, he probably turned backward and tossed them over his shoulder like salt or maybe did a little dance in silent protest of the new order.

And so it came to pass that it was time for Mexican-style baked chicken breasts. A yummy thing. You mix some salsa in with beaten eggs, dip the breast and then roll it in bread crumbs seasoned with cumin and whatever other spices sound good. Throw some butter in a glass casserole, bake at 375 degrees about 30 minutes or until done. Serve with shredded iceberg lettuce, a dollop of sour cream, sliced avocado and a wedge of lime.

I said innocently enough, “When you get the chicken breasts out to thaw, the oldest one is in a labeled Ziploc. Use that one and then cut off one of the new ones.” He did not respond.

Later, as Dale was preparing his kitchen hut for the sacred cooking ritual, I was convinced I personally witnessed him cutting off two portions from the new package of individually sealed breasts.

I wanted to say, “What is so effing hard about using the oldest one first?” But then I thought, oh, the chicken will get eaten one way or the other. Who cares? I did not say a word, and I’ve been quite proud of my restraint. I thought about all the ways to do things and how we almost always go in opposite directions. It’s actually quite funny.

So, I laughed. I thought it would make a funny post and sat down to write. Then I went to the freezer to take some sort of picture to go with. While I was there, I decided to look in the Ziploc. The chicken breast was gone. Only one missing from the other package.

That coyote. He’s a trickster.