Blatherings

Happy Monday to all who observe weekdays, and a good day to all of those who no longer bother!

Today begins new [university] systems training and various other distractions at work, which is welcome after a week of what felt like treading water. I still need to poke some people via email, but at least I have more to do, which is nice for the most part. Including a rather dull kick-off webinar, but hey, whatever gets one through the day!

It was a nice weekend for the most part--lovely weather, got caught up on sleep, finished a cool fantasy trilogy (more on that below), continued watching Picard, enjoyed Mr. 42's company, had some lovely walkies, and last night, we ordered out from our favorite burger place, and it was a succulent treat.

Online church kinda wrecked me this week, and I don't think I'm alone in that. My contribution was tiny, half of a chant recorded in Zoom, finished on Tuesday. But we did a favorite hymn, the chant was wonderful, and the sermon was raw and honest and kind and compassionate, and then RV played piano while A-M sang My Shepherd Will Supply My Need, one of the most beautiful, comforting, simple, lovely pieces of sacred music ever written, and one I dearly miss singing with my church choir. I knew I was going to cry, but once I started, it turned into sobbing. I didn't know I needed that, but apparently I did. After I collected the shattered bits of my heart from the ground, I had a nice phone chat with my folks and a sunny walk with the doggos, both of which were joyful, affirming activities.

Weekend walkies were a bit of an adventure, partially by choice, and partially by the choices of others. Friday night, I drove to the end of Unexpectedly Long Street, where we discovered canyon access last week on our 2 hour ramble. The Long Low Ladies ADORE exploring, so they went right down into the canyon and promptly took off in opposite directions (a trickly thing on leash). I eventually forced consnsus, after which we walked a goodly distance between two major streets and encountered a number of people riding their bikes, running, and walking the canyon, which, thankfully, the paths were generally wide enough to accommodate safely, since not everyone was wearing masks. The only bad thing was that among the beautiful spreading live oaks along the stream, there was SO MUCH POISON OAK, and I couldn't keep the dogs out of it, despite my best efforts. I texted Mr. 42, "Can dogs get poison oak?" "No," he replied, "but they can get it on you." "That's what I thought," I said. "Baths. For the dogs, I mean."  Fortunately, between my (current) insensitivity to urushiol (the irritant in poison oak/ivy/sumac) and thorough scrubbing of the doggos, neither Mr. 42 nor I suffered ill effects.

The next evening, the LLL, Mr. 42 and I braved another arm of the canyon, and thankfully encountered no poison oak, but unfortunately, encountered many more people, most of whom were not wearing face masks or being particularly careful about staying 6' apart because the paths were relatively narrow. So we popped up to the next street access and walked a new-to-us stretch of the neighborhood, which was good fun, with some entertaining 70s architecture, window kitties, and waaay fewer people walking. Mr. 42 seemed to enjoy himself on our exploration, and the doggos had such a good time that they didn't even try too hard to get us to detour through the park when we passed it on the way home. Sunday walkies were delayed until sundown (by the aforementioned burger repast), so we stuck to a known neighborhood ramble, which was relatively free of other people and a thoroughly pleasant time. However, as we were walking back, I saw a large vehicle coming down the street towards us.

"Is that the blue bus?" I asked, referring to the converted school bus that lives near a neighbor. "Wrong bus," said Mr. 42, frowning.

It was a party limo bus. Full of people. And there was a "Happy Birthday" sign strung the length of the bus that I could make out through the tinted windows as it rumbled by. What the actual fuck?" I wondered aloud. Mr. 42 concurred. What kind of hubris does it take to demand to be driven around in an enclosed space with a bunch of people in the middle of a pandemic? The kind that leads to spreading events, that's what. So yeah, that was deeply disappointing to see, though unsurprising. I wish I'd taken a picture and reported the company, because there is absolutely nothing I can think of that could be considered an essential use for a limo bus. Certainly not a freaking birthday party. I'm also pretty sure my neighbors across the way had people over for the kid's birthday on Saturday, which is also not a choice I would make, but certainly a more understandable one. But it's really frustrating to see people behaving like this when the place your husband works is considered essential and he has to serve these people when they come into the place of business and ignore the signs that say "FACE COVERING REQUIRED" or "PLEASE DO NOT SERVE YOURSELF." 

So poo on selfish, thoughtless people. I hope that they, their households, the businesses they patronize, and our heroic healthcare workers don't have cause to regret their foolishness.

In happier news, I'm contemplating submitting a video to Eric Whitacre's next Virtual Choir thing. It's a piece he just wrote to be about isolation and missing singing together, so it's definitely apt and will be welcome when it comes out. He sent out the music on Saturday and I'm working it up with hopes of recording it some evening or another this week. Likely not tonight, since Master Chorale will be eating up a block of tonight and I still have to walk the doggos. But I'm officially off work now and gonna go not stare at a screen for a while. Woooo.

Smooches to All,

Mun42