Phew

 I can breathe again.  We all can breathe again.

Phew, phew, phew

It Is Not Over

 We all know to what I refer.  The election results are not over, and won't be over until they are over.  And, sadly, if anyone is surprised about this then they have been existing in a state of denial.

First and foremost.  I always said that the election of the orange haired monster did NOT come out of the blue (pardon the use of the word blue here), and that he is not an anomaly.  Sadly he is a projection of much of America and the shadow side of many americans.  We do not like to face this.  

Here in p.c. Berkeley we are NOT racist, we are NOT capitalist pigs, we are NOT right wing bigots.  We care deeply about everyone and everything.  So much so that if anyone arrives to speak for, or about, the 'other' side, we will violently kick them out.  We post our Black Lives Matter posters proudly in our mostly white areas.  We refer to the Latinx as a monolithic non gendered whole and assume they are all politically to the left of centre and cannot understand why they would be any different from our righteous point of views.  We do NOT have a sense of humour and take deep offence at any truly innocent remarks  or observations.  I have found it quite difficult living in this dry, humourless, and self righteous environment. 

And what is more, I have felt like this ever since arriving here - 40 years ago!!!!!  And yet,  here I am ....And of course I have found many friends and people here that I love dearly.  It is a place in which I feel at home. 

 I remember my initial shock and disbelief when I first began working in East Contra Costa County.  I described my impressions in my book "Tree Barking."  But after working in these communities I certainly began to experience another side of America.  And racism, fear, mistrust, and bigotry exist in every community, no matter the religion or the colour, of the people who live in them.  

We are as not as highly evolved as we would like to think, and our primary reactions are based on fear and mistrust.

My diatribe is over.  What I want to say is that, if and when Biden gets the requisite electoral college and is sworn in, there won't be a sweeping miraculous change.  True change will take a lot of work on behalf of all of us.  We like to engage in magical thinking 

"When Biden is elected ......  miracles will happen.  Fear and hatred will vanish"

 "When there is a vaccine ..... miracles will happen, covid will be gone. Life will go back to normal

Sorry, everyone, magic does not happen.  Change does, and will happen, but not in an instant.

Another Unfortunate Incident

 It would seem that in the recent weeks I have had ghastly encounters with denizens of the underworld. This is probably indicative of my present state of mind. 

I, like everyone else, I am sure - am dealing with the stress and anxiety of these upcoming elections and all the attendant hideousness that we are bombarded with.  This is on top of the pandemic, the economy, the state of the world, fires, toxic air - on and on and on.

So first was my unfortunate accident with the turkey - him not quite a denizen of the underworld, but pretty damn close.

Then came this - on Saturday night while preparing for bed (i.e. getting into my pyjamas) I noticed a strange somewhat disturbing odor in my bedroom. It seemed to be localized to a specific area, near my air purifier. I was somewhat puzzled and walked around the room sniffing.  I thought that possibly my new neighbours had used some kind of fertilizer in their garden.  When I went outside however, there was no such smell.  Back inside I tested my carpet for dampness (I had bad leaks last year) - but there was none. Besides which, we have had nothing resembling rain, it was really merely a thought.  I turned on the air purifier and went to sleep.

Sunday night the same thing - a very bad smell, but different to the smell of a dead animal. Whatever it was, it was not good.  Monday mornings are my days for a walk with a friend. (strenuous climb this Monday).  During the walk I told her about the smell, and on our return she came in to smell.  She also noticed something in the same general area I had localised whatever was going on.  Like a pair of bloodhounds we sniffed around and looked around, but nothing looked awry - no suspicious droppings.  Maybe it is from underneath the room, she said.  Now, at this moment in time my landlords are in Palm Springs, blissfully unaware of my discomfort.  It won't help to email them, firstly they would probably suggest the smell is from me (they enjoy sarcasm), then they would ask how on earth they could help while they are sunning themselves far away.

My friend left and I continued my unpleasant explorations.  I had placed a soft white blanket on the floor next to my bed after last week's yoga session. Neatly folded and flat - I picked it up and unfolded it and to my absolute shock and horror I saw quite a large mouse entangled in the fluff - it looked quite dead.  I do not do well with mice and their ilk.  I dashed out of my house shaking and dry heaving. Oh goodness - what could I do. Never go back inside again? Get into my car and drive away to heaven knows where, abandoning everything.  No neighbours to ask for help, no landlords, no gardeners, no housecleaners - no living beings. I had to deal with this - but what to do? I went back inside  and very carefully, so that I could neither see the corpse, nor drop it inside, I lifted the blanket.  Outside in the garden I shook out the blanket - nothing came out.  I shook again, nothing - that little creature's claws were in the fluff. A broom didn't dislodge it.  Back inside I went for paper towels and a paper bag.  Somehow, I don't know how I managed, I pried the thing and dropped it in the bag and ran to the garbage bin.  Then I washed the blanket a several times, cleaned my house from top to bottom (I do this quite often, I have to say) but I did it again.  Sprinkled disinfectant and lavender oil and opened doors and windows  then I sat outside feeling disoriented and sick. That night I did not sleep - each time I closed my eyes I could see that dark thing curled up on white fluff.

It is now 2 days later - an exterminator came yesterday, but neither of us saw any signs of any other creatures at this time.  He did say that as I am in the basement, directly to the outside, I should keep my doors closed.  When the air is good they are open.

One dilemma after another.

Here is a painting I did over the weekend (dark).

A Most Unfortunate Incident

 Saturday dawned with a reasonably low number  in the green area on all my air quality apps.

Well, hardly dawned  as I am never up before or with dawn.  However, during the morning all three of my apps displayed green breathable air.  Never one to miss such a rare occurrence I headed off for the Berkeley Marina. I drove along San Pablo Avenue at about 11.30 a.m. There was a fairly large amount of traffic, and just before Marin Avenue I noticed that ahead of me cars were slowing and jostling into the left hand lane.  Of course I followed suit.  Just as was about to enter the left side I saw what was slowing the traffic - the resident University Village wild turkeys were crossing the avenue - they don't use traffic lights or pedestrian walkways. Suddenly I heard a thump and a squawk and I looked to my left. I hit a turkey who was just out of my line of sight. The turkey flew up with a squawk looking like a comic book illustration of an alarmed turkey in flight trailing a couple of feathers behind it!

Alarmed and somewhat shaken I continued driving and moved back to the right lane. At the red light on Monroe a silver Honda drove up next to me - its window was down, so I lowered my window. A couple were looking at me smiling -

"I hit a turkey," I said at the same time as the man said to me "you hit a turkey."  

"I don't know what to do" and he said, "you knocked out a few feathers, he'll survive" and he gave me a thumbs up and drove away laughing.

I continued onward to the Marina fully expecting a gaggle of turkeys to come squawking after me, or a police man, or a traffic cop.

In the end, with nothing and no one behind me I silently offered healing to the unfortunate turkey and do hope he survives.

Uninspired

It has been three weeks since the day that wasn't day.

Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur have come and gone. I think we enjoyed maybe two weeks of fresh air. Thing is, I have lost count of days, of fires, of breathable air, unhealthy air, of pre-election anxiety, or rather fear.

But today I believe is Thursday, smokey unhealthy air, hot outside, visibility - all is grey, and again, my plants, the car, table and chairs on my deck - all covered in a light dusting of ash. Today is the day I take out the garbage and recycle bins.

Today feels tedious, uninspiring, but I decided I must do something.  Small accomplishment is a watercolour of the fiery sunsets - and now, an uninspired and uninspiring blog entry. Someone said my recent entries are gloom and doom - well - really, what an immense surprise that was to me. And this was said to me before that dreadful debacle of what was supposed to have been a debate.

The services I zoomed into on Yom Kippur were yet another reminder of the collective horror that has come to us.  At the same time they were heartfelt and uplifting in that there is strength in prayer, and a sense of community despite our isolation.  Maybe, just maybe - a hint of optimism?

The end of days?

 

The photo on the left taken at 7.30 a.m, facing east, the photo on the righ at 12.00 p.m. facing west.

Yesterday's morning sun which I thought was eerie until I awoke to night to day.

I am at a loss for words - other than unbelievable and horrendous.  I will post 3 watercolour pictures I have painted of sunsets since the start of the fires. 

Apologies to Monty Python

I had a coughing fit in Trader Joe's the other day - I was petrified I would be thrown out bodily.  I tried to hide in the vitamin and health products aisle. I suppressed my cough and prayed that my mask was muffling the sound. Better to sound like I am choking than - gasp - coughing!

This morning I awoke to the same grey hazy sky.    I opened my front door and smelled smoke.  I closed my front door and went to open the back door hoping the other side of the house may be different!  Nope, of course not - wishful thinking.  Smokey air, smokey air, smokey air.  The same awful news on the radio.  The same terribly depressing headlines only today made far worse by the travesty of Nancy Pelosi getting her hair shampooed and blow dried while we cower indoors. Nothing new.

There and then I decided to look at the bright side of life.  For this reason I have entitled this entry "Apologies to Monty Python."  

I remember Brian nailed to the crucifix singing 'Here's looking on the bright side of life ."

I too, am now looking on the bright side.  "I do not have covid 19 - my sense of smell is fine.  What unbridled joy."