In this age of shopping online, why not take the opportunity to order from Black-owned businesses? Here’s a link to a long list. Seems especially appropriate to mention right now in light of recent Amazon boycott and unionization attempts in Alabama (as of this writing, votes were still being tallied). (No I’m not being paid for any of these recommendations).
Also, I’ve ordered a few books from Harrietts Bookshop, a Black-run, independent bookseller in Philly.
Have other bloggers noticed that if you let a few too many days go by, it can be hard to step back in? Right now, I’m procrastinating.
I should be putting my recently printed manuscript into a binder for ease of editing. Instead, I vacuumed. To finish properly, I had to pull a big jam out of the tubing using forceps. Found a bic pen lodged in there (– perhaps a symbol about getting down to business today?) Then I knocked over a Christmas cactus and had to clean that up.
I rearranged papers under the desk to make room for my soothing noise maker, because leaf blowing season is upon us again. “I must be ready!” she said.
Then there was a little candle lighting (my brother hasn’t been feeling well; D lives in Boulder — AND IS OKAY — but shops at that grocery store).
Then, because it’s lovely today, I opened a bunch of windows and got a couple of fans going and in the process kept losing the cup of coffee which any writer can tell you is an essential element of GETTING ONE’s ASS BACK IN THE CHAIR. One screen got stuck. Par for the course.
It occurs to me that if one had a practice of praying for all the victims of gunfire in this country, and their families, there’d be little time for anything else.
It also occurs to me that keeping a catalogue of the sickening and vast difference in how Black and white bodies are treated by cops could be a full time job.
On that note, I’ll leave you with yesterday’s historical tidbit (think: a trump-corrupted CDC playing down the Covid numbers).
And now, off to work!
0 – number of times I’ve wished that my sister was still alive since she died two years ago
0 – number of years I’ve seen Crystal Lake frozen before
1 – number of people I know (within two degrees) who have died of Covid; number of friends declining the vaccine
1 – number of memorial services that should have taken place in our family and didn’t
1 – number of neighbors out Saturday morning without a mask (a bearded 20 – something wearing a Patriot’s hat, JOGGING)
1 – bed sized quilt finished this year
1 – number of quilts lost en route to Australia
1 – number of identical answers in NYTimes and Boston Globe crossword puzzles today. (This morning: heft. This happens with a freaky frequency).
2 – number of chairs on the curb Saturday morning; number of auto-immune disorders I have that don’t bump me up in the vaccine queue
2 – number of poll working gigs I’ve turned down since March 2020
2 – number of personal international trips cancelled since this time last year; number of African American Museums donated to
3 – number of nightmares where I don’t have a mask; there’s also been a spate of wedding dreams lately
4 – number of masks lost en route to California
5 – number of haircuts I’ve given my husband
5 – minimum number of times I’ve asked, “what does 50% more contagious even mean?”
6 – number of phone calls with my brother since he got back to LA
7 – number of people I know who’ve had Covid
7 – number of vaccinated family members
8 – number of trips to a grocery store in a year
12 – Flickr albums left to download before I stop paying pro fee
19 – number of hours fasted between dinner and today’s lunch
A few dozen – the number of times I’ve missed my sister since March 2019
At least 20 — number of times I have cursed WordPress’s block editor OUTLOUD (ask my husband)
40 – number of minutes walked Saturday morning before one hip really hurt
43 – number of years I’ve had hip pain
89 – number of masks I made since March 2020 – three sold and the rest given away (or kept) (or lost in the mail)
200 to 800 – number of phone photos I aim to delete every week
1,000 – number of photos Flickr will allow without a pro fee
4,000+ – number of photos on my Flickr feed
8,000 – the number of steps when my Fitbit offers a vibrating graphic congratulations
10,000+ – number of pictures on my phone
Number of friends who have been vaccinated? All of them? Well, not Rieko, Barbara, Barbara, or Jane. BUT EVERYONE ELSE
Number of times something I ordered from Amazon arrived and I had no fucking idea what was in the box — I’m not telling you!
Number of times in the last year I’ve crowed while serving a plate of food to husband that it was restaurant fare — I’m not telling you that either!
Number of times when I crowed that I was serving restaurant grade food and it WAS restaurant grade? ALL OF THEM (and you thought I was a creature marked solely by self-doubt!)
I also refuse to disclose how many uninspired duds were served up!
Lastly, a contest on walk yesterday: $2.5MM – my guess for sale price of house near lake (above); K’s guess – $3.1MM; listing price – $2.95MM. He wins! note: there is a house between this house and the lake and the road is fairly busy
Enjoy your Sunday. I’m curious what some of your Covid-specific numbers are. Do you know anyone who has died? How many people do you know have had it? Have you?
I come downstairs. Voices in the kitchen. A man with a German accent is discussing intellectual property. I recognize one of the lawyer’s voices and think yet again about how much I love it. K is not muted. Dare I clank some ice into a glass? A loud bird is squawking at regular intervals. To my mind, as good a contribution as any. It’s hilarious, actually.
And now, to walk the dog. This time of year, cold is mitigated a good deal by the sun. It’s 39 degrees out, not 28 like Monday. I may not wear a hat!
Here is a side by side of my father’s father, Francis Mallon, and Son #2. What do you think?
Closing with celestial images from the walls upstairs.
Texas friends: hang in there! Here in New England, we count the days ’til spring. Less than a month, now.