Life's a Stitch

I’ve written about what we call the Covid tax, the premium you pay when prices are higher due to the pandemic. Think shopping at a smaller grocery store to avoid crowds. I’m paying twice what I should for a couple of everyday items shipped from the US.

Aside from the tax, the cost of Covid manifests itself in other ways. Last Christmas’s gathering was cancelled on a moment’s notice. alternative plans were put in place, where over Zoom the family met to open each other’s gifts. The expectation was we’d be together in a matter of months, gifts in hand.

This is a little complicated, so stick with the story. Daughter E, ordered a very special gift for her sister, M, who’s a fan of certain things gnome. This very delicate handmade Christmas gnome featured a dark and white chocolate figurine that was filled with milk chocolate macadamia dragee.

Isn’t he irresistibly cute – that button nose, the bell and snowflake on his hat? And all made of chocolate!

I was tasked with the Christmas Eve pickup from Chez Christophe, a fancy French patisserie up the street from our house aka a carb laden heaven. On the counter was a petite army of holiday delicacies, in their elegant clear houses tied with satin. I spotted him, “Gnome for the holidays” standing next to his white chocolate friend, a snowman in a compromised position.

Little did I appreciate what I now know was a real life example of dramatic foreshadowing.

Oh so carefully we made our way home, ready for his Zoom unveiling the following morning. He was a very popular little dude, indeed.

Mailing something so delicate was out of the question, so over the months I took care of him, awaiting his eventual handover to M. I suggested we freeze him, but you know what happens to chocolate in the freezer – he’d be decorated with a coat of white condensation dust – not all that inappropriate for a winter loving guy. But the decision was made to leave him in hibernation in the dining room cupboard.

Five months hence a Covid opportunity presented itself – little gnome was invited on a trip to Alberta, his ultimate destination. E’s MIL was shipping her empty car to them and invited us to use the space. Off went the two river tables lovingly made by C, the crokinole board for the boys, and our little hitchhiker, the chocolate gnome, packed in a larger box cushioned with rolls of soft foam.

For reasons beyond our control, what should have been a 12 hour trip stretched to two weeks. Happily the car was delivered in one piece. The gnome as well. One piece resembling the Wicked Witch of the West at the end of the Wizard of Oz.

He had a literal meltdown, but I’m embarrassed to admit there was actual laughing at his expense. When E shared his picture I was in a Zoom meeting where laughter would be the height of impropriety, but I successfully stifled it.

Epilogue: Gnome for the Holidays will again be placed in hibernation until M can enjoy him, whatever ever his shape, which resembles a worse version of his melting snowman friend. The moral of this story: For this gnome, there’s no place like home.

…there was internet. Yes, almost a week after the garbage truck took down our overhead cables, internet was finally restored to our house. Insult was added to injury when the technician told me about a nearby apartment that didn't have reception for an entire weekend when a dump truck at a construction site across the street took down their lines. I wonder how their service was restored so quickly. Never mind, it's over and here I am. 

Two good things: most important is that after long delay, we were finally able to receive our first Pfizer vaccine. Canada, without the ability to produce its own vaccines, contracted with providers in the UK, Europe, the US and India. Given the disastrous covid conditions in those areas, shipments were diverted to their own populations, leaving Canada mostly vaccine free. As supplies dribbled in, an age based system was implemented. Although we are four years apart in age, C had his on Monday and mine was on Tuesday. That was a step in the right direction as I was feeling the length of isolation when we hit the 400 day mark this week. It's frustrating sticking to the rules while restrictions continue to tighten as the result of those who don't.

Now Canada is in a race: vaccine vs the virus. We haven't hit the point where the numbers are going down as the result of mass inoculations. Comparatively our stats are better than other North American regions. I heard an interesting stat: the populations of the state of Minnesota and the Province of BC are comparable, however, the number of covid deaths in MN total 7100, while in BC we're at 1550.

The second good thing was the amazing summer-like weather we've been enjoying. Lots of opportunities for bike rides, walks and deck time. 

This painting, from my last class with David R Smith fits the conversation. It's a summer scene in Northern Minnesota.

Yesterday, a typical covidly quiet afternoon, when suddenly there was an exceedingly loud “thwack” against the side of the house. So loud I felt the house shudder ever so slightly. Earthquake? Exceptionally large bird strike? Nope. Picture this – the equivalent of a giant slingshot.

A garbage truck did a u-turn in front of our house, catching the cables above and stretching them until they released their stored elastic energy at great speed, making contact with the cable’s point of attachment on our house. Good thing there were no projectiles caught in the cable nor anybody on the sidewalk. That could have been one of those tragically random events that leaves people saying “whoa, you know your time is up when…”

The worst outcome was to be expected. No internet. So here I am blogging purely on phone power. And as nobody from the company has shown up, and we’re heading into a weekend, my hopes of repair are waning. What was my first clue? They don’t give you a Monday backup appointment for nothing.

What I was planning on posting, prior to the distraction: 

After three tries I was pleased with the results. Inspiration and technique learned from instructor David R. Smith. 

There are probably many socially isolating folks like us out there who have gotten into the rhythm of their favourite tabletop game. Puzzles, board games, chess maybe? Friends of ours play cribbage daily, with the promise of teaching us when this homebound sentence lifts. C and I play the Croke, aka Crokinoke:

Crokinole (/ˈkroʊkɪnoʊl/ KROH-ki-nohl) is a disk-flicking dexterity board game, possibly of Canadian origin, similar to the games of pitchnut, carrom, and pichenotte, with elements of shuffleboard and curling reduced to table-top size.

Run on sentence warning. When our kids were young, we were gifted a hand-me-down board, put to hard enough use that when we moved C convinced me to throw out the bent and missing peg, dog chewed game, agreeing I could buy a new one once we were settled.

Two years at our new house, the time came. I shopped online, C searched for woodworking plans. He won. Off we went to our local building supply for materials,  astonishingly pricy due to pandemic demand. Don’t worry, says he, it’ll make three, one for us and two for future gifts. Long story short, take three produced our one board.

He modified an old wooden box to hold the discs and pegs:

And since we’re of an age where playing on the floor is uncomfortable, he’s mounted it on legs in front of our comfy chairs.

That’s a long story for a short, but enjoyable game. There’s a modified version for four players, something to look forward to. Anyone in?

If someone had told me last year, that I would have a second birthday during the time of Covid, I'd have been in compete denial. Welcome, reality. 

The kids hosted a  Zoom Lobsterfest, sending me to the grocery store to buy the bits for our lobster dinner, plus wine and treats. 

C and I did our parts for a home baked wheat, nut and sugar free Boston Cream Pie, hitting all our dietary needs and preferences for my traditional choice of a birthday cake. 

Our pandemic rules have loosened ever so slightly, allowing you to establish a consistent bubble of ten people, with whom you can visit in an outdoor setting. That allowed me to extend this birthday for all it was worth. I was treated to outdoor lunch by my longtime friend, who took me too Egg Bomb, a Korean brunch restaurant in Langley known for their beautiful presentation.

One more – outdoor lunch with good friends, followed by Italian pastries on the deck. 

That's five in our bubble of ten (including ourselves). Room for five more. I was going through serious social contact withdrawal. Are we betting on a third pandemic birthday for next year? Ha. You never know. I am not a betting woman.

We have now hit the one year mark of returning home from Bali last year, and beginning our quarantine, then isolation. This wasn't a bad week, considering. 

 

 

In my lifetime I have experienced several of those events, where you remember precisely where you were when you heard devastating world news:

In third grade when US President Kennedy was assassinated. I know I've told this before, so skip it if you've heard this. I was in the hallway, a punishment for talking in class, go figure, when a big fifth grader walked by and told me the news. I debated whether to tell the teacher, but concluded I was already in enough trouble for talking. A few minutes later we lined up and filed into the auditorium. We were lead in song by the music teacher when the principal interrupted and told us "This is not a good day to sing" and made the sad announcement. 

9/11 I woke up to my clock radio alarm (remember those) I hear a plane hit a high-rise building sleepily thinking a small plane had accidentally hit a local Vancouver business tower. I was jolted awake with the news that NY was the target. It was during a time when we didn't subscribe to cable TV, but miraculously discovered we had TV reception for the next four days.

One more. where were you when you heard that Princess Di had died? Blogless Marsha and family were visiting us to celebrate D's birthday. The kids were watching TV and the adults were in the kitchen, when her eldest son bounded up the stairs to deliver the news.

Today is the one year anniversary of the declaration of the existence of a pandemic and the ten year anniversary of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. I have vivid "where were you when" memories of both. 

A year ago on the 11th we were flying to Bali to visit our son and his girlfriend, a place where the covid number totalled one. While in flight the pandemic was declared. Five days later Canadians were called home. At six days the US declared a level 4 travel advisory. That's when we knew it was serious. We had been trying to change our return flight without luck. Finally we were able to get a reservation for day nine of our trip, much sooner than the schedule 28 days.

I remember sobbing at the airport not knowing when we would see our son again. Little did I know that restrictions would include the inability to be with our Canadian based daughters and family members. I recall our layover in the Taipei airport and seeing some passengers in disposable rain type gear with masks, gloves and shields, science fiction turned reality. And now, two million people have been taken by this disease, and still counting, as predictions of a third wave based on the possibility variants not covered by the vaccines will gain momentum. 

Ten years ago today I was in San Francisco, joining my daughter on a business trip. We had, of course, access to US TV and CNN was all about the tsunami in Japan. San Francisco was under tsunami alert. A few days later it was my birthday and after a dinner at the Le Cordon Bleu culinary institute, I suffered severe food poisoning. Vivid memories of that trip, indeed. 

The IPhone's "On this Day" photo feature reminds us of mostly good times. Next year, here is what i’ll see “On This Day.” This is where I was March 12, 2021:

A liberating mask-not-required bike ride, 40k, Mud Bay Park to Tsawwassen, BC and back. Lunch was on the patio at the Beach Grove Cafe. Oh yeah, Ms.”I’ll never use the throttle setting on my e-bike” caved at 32k. It was our first ride except for around the block.

That was me this week, three full days plus one evening on Zoom. Considering the time zone difference and the amount of sitting required, it wasn't bad. Switching out the kitchen chair for a desk chair at my art table helped considerably. The day sessions were with David R Smith from Minnesota, a talented artist and amazing teacher. I've taken his classes before and have learned so much. I've finished one painting so far – King of the Coop, watercolour. 16×20 matted.

Zoom was also the word of the day for Chuck as he tried out his new candy apple red e-bike.

 

A little bit different anyway. For me, that means a departure from my usual photo realistic pet portraits. 

 

Zoom has been my saving grace during these Covid times and this week it connected me to a mini workshop, “Painting Pets in Wild Colours,” taught by Shaunna Russell through Etchrlabs.

 

I'm looking forward to trying this method again.  

I was thinking how I’ve honed my reading selections during covid times. Most of my books are audio selections chosen from Bookbub and Kindle Daily Deals, for $4.

 

Why don’t I use the library? I listen while walking in places where I don’t need to be super aware of my surroundings, or those with an absence of nature sounds. As listening  doesn’t occur on a daily basis, it sometimes takes longer to read than the allowed loan period of an audio book from the library. If you know my spending habits I’m not about to pay full Audible prices either.

 

Reading while walking also precludes books with a complicated cast  of characters. I listened to the My Brilliant Friend series by Elena Ferrante, all those Italian names! Solution? On the kindle sample of the first book, there is a list of characters that I copied and pasted to my phone notes. 

 

How do I choose the next book from my low budget sources? Common cliche plots are ruled out – the ones resembling Hallmark movies – big city woman gives up high powered position to open a small town book store, tea shop, flower shop, cupcake bakery, B&B…  as are books that depict floral bouquets or flowy haired men on the cover. 

 

Forget the overused story of cleaning out granny’s attic and finding a letter in a trunk, drawer or box, divulging family secrets. And don’t want to read those based on a famous painting and the subject’s fictional relationship with the artist.

 

Looking at my Goodread lists my preferences indicate a leaning toward memoirs and historical fiction, particularly those depicting stories of immigrants. I’ve read a good share of Asian historical fiction, thanks to a former summer student from work, whose double major delved deeply into said topic. The same goes for Hispanic translations due to my heritage. I gave equal time to my Polish side by reading Michener’s Poland, a substantial volume. I drift toward social worky themes reflective of my career, but try to resist.

 

I tend to stay away from time travel and/or magical realism with some exceptions, recently the Shadow of the Wind and Lights on the Sea, both translated from Spanish. Same for epistolary novels, those written in the form of a series of letters. They just don’t grab me.

 

An occasional mystery is OK, but no spine tingling psychological thrillers, please. My preference in WW2 books are those written by men lest they devolve into romantic sleeping with the enemy tropes.

 

Humorous stories appeal to me, lifting the mood of the pandemic – like the Rosie trilogy or the 100 year old Man who Went Out the Window and Disappeared.

 

When I sit down to read I want something with a lot of pages, feeling like I’m getting my money’s worth. The Goldfinch fit that bill. I pick books with a minimum reader rating of 80% on Amazon, not always foolproof.

 

So there you have it, I’m as picky about reading as a four-year-old can be about eating. I’m throwing it out there…any suggestions?

 

The days are getting noticeably longer, later sunsets and earlier rises, perfect for my morning walks. Time to get out of bed and plug my ears with those cold white buds to enjoy some Herman Wouk.

 

A spectacular sunrise from my bedroom window:

That about sums it up.

Cook: in general I prefer not to view random photos of food unless it’s something really special with a restaurant recommendation or accompanied by a recipe, and not one of those where you have to scroll and scroll through ads to get there. In other words i don’t want to see everyday grub or be tempted by bloggy food p*rn, I want access to extraordinary food. You know it’s a pandemic when…

So here's an easy one. A stir fry sauce, sent by my son, an amazing cook who learned it in Bali. Reminiscent of the Thai brown sauce I ordered when we went to restaurants in the before times. Just stir fry your veggies and or meat, and add it at the end, continuing to cook until it's hot.

As you can see from the pictures, I made a large amount, so I doubled the ingredients below.

Ingredients:

2T Oyster Sauce

1/2 T Sesame oil

1 T Dark Soy Sauce – make sure it's labeled as such.  It is different from regular soy sauce, no matter how deep the colour, and it's richer and thicker. I found mine at Walmart, believe it or not, the grocery store didn't have it. 

1/4 C water

1T sugar (I used 3/4 T Splenda)

Mix it all together and away you go. I like to heat it in the microwave so the sugar dissolves and I don't continue cooking the veggies once I add the sauce. So easy, so delicious.

 

Paint: Put Your Best Foot Forward, the theme for our art society's quarterly challenge. This was mine, a watercolour, 16×20 matted.

Walk: We're having a cold snap here. To a weather wimp, such as myself, that means a low of -8C (17.6F). When using hiking poles, even with gloves, my hands freeze at +2C (35.6F). I tried the heated yellow leatherish work gloves from Costco, which failed on two accounts: 1. they provided heat for about 20 minutes and 2. my scrawny hands left  a minimum 2" of unoccupied finger space.

I had previously tried instant hand warmers. They are lukewarm and expensive. I thought a pack came with a pair, but no, you need one for each hand, doubling the price. So on really cold days I stay home and use the stationery bike or leave the poles at home and walk with gloves on and hands in my pockets. Any suggestions would be appreciated.