You’ve Got Your Troubles

Ah, Alabama.

I spent the day with Dad, going around to cemeteries and visiting graves and getting family history lessons. We went to the oldest known grave1 in Alabama–which is in the county, and Dad’s sister-in-law is descended from the Revolutionary War veteran buried there. We had lunch in a little diner in Carbon Hill which was phenomenal–old-style home Southern cooking (didn’t care for the cornbread, but no one could make cornbread as good as my mom, and you could tell it wasn’t baked in cast iron). It’s weird being here, a bit melancholy and always a bit sad–most of the older folks from when I spent summers here as a kid are all gone. I’m sixty-three, so that’s really not a surprise but I generally don’t think about that a lot when I’m not here; being here reminds me of things and people. I remembered one of my dad’s uncles, which shocked him because that uncle died when I was about seven. (I also remember my mother’s younger brother, who also died when I was seven, less than two weeks after he turned eighteen.) I even have a single memory of our first apartment in Chicago, when I just over two years old. It’s very faint, but I remember it–it was my first time hearing the air raid sirens (which used to be tested every day back then) and it scared me, so Mom picked me up and carried me out to the back porch and told me it wasn’t anything to be scared of, and it never bothered me again.2

I’m also glad to spend this time with Dad, and also get a break from every day life and the world burning to the ground3 for a brief respite. I was listening to Nick Cutter’s The Troop in the car yesterday (yes, I picked a book that wasn’t on my list of choices, but in fairness to me I’d forgotten I’d downloaded it), and really enjoying it. I’m looking forward to listening to the rest of it on the way home tomorrow. It’s surprised me; I don’t know what I was thinking the book was about other than knowing a Scout troop was having a camp out on a remote island, and it was horror. It is that, but I thought the threat, the big bad, was going to be a psycho killer; it’s such a slasher story set-up that my brain defaulted to that trope. But it’s not that at all–and it is so much worse than that. So much worse. It did get a slow start and I had to acclimate to driving from being at the office, so my mind was also wandering a bit…but once it gets going, it really gets going. I hope my mind is receptive enough to pick up on it again right away. There had been a big twist and shift to the story right as I got here and stopped listening, too. DAMN YOU CLIFFHANGERS!!!

Okay, I didn’t finish this on Friday night because I got sleepy–I was very tired–and then this morning I got up, packed, got cleaned up, packed the car, and had breakfast with Dad before I departed for my drive home. It’s always amazing how much faster and easier driving home to New Orleans always is than driving anywhere else. I love when I first spot the Laurel New Orleans exit sign as 20 veers off east and 59 continues heading south. It was a lovely day for a drive, really. I got home around three–really good time–and collapsed into my chair, cuddled with Sparky, watched the LSU-Oklahoma gymnastics meet (it was a replay on Youtube; I knew they’d won but wasn’t able to watch Friday night. The Tigers won and broke 198.00 again, which is the kind of score you need to win at nationals), and then settled in for a lovely binge of Arrested Development. I finished listening to The Troop on the drive–finishing just as I pulled up in front of the house (more on that later, I promise) and I really enjoyed it.The Bell in the Fog is definitely going to be my next read. I was really tired, so I figured I was going to sleep well last night, and I did. So, here I am on Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment, slipping back out of my little bubble back into the real world. I am sure the world continued burning and more fuel was added to the fire…there are measles outbreaks popping up all over the country just in time for an anti-vaxxer to be in charge of health and human services. The dismantling of the CDC has already started, apparently. It was kind of odd to be visiting cemeteries with Dad on the same day, so I started taking pictures of children’s graves–and there were a lot of them. That will be a newsletter post, methinks. I wonder how many of their children have to die before the anti-vaxxer bloodlust ends?

We certainly live in the stupidest timeline–one where anti-vaxxers see themselves as pro-life somehow but want their kids to die instead of “catching autism” from them? It’s amazing how much damage an idiot D-list celebrity (Jenny McCarthy) can do to a country, isn’t it?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I recommend taking the day off from the world so you can take care of yourself, your own business, and prepare yourself for the fight.

Don’t let the bastards win.

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  1. According to my dad, who was told this by a high school friend he saw Friday. So, proverbial grain of salt involved, but…it’s also a great story. ↩︎
  2. Maybe not a good thing to get so used to air raid sirens that you don’t notice them? ↩︎
  3. Typical American arrogance; the world isn’t burning, but the government is collapsing and the Constitution becoming nothing more than a scrap of paper to be ignored. Yes, our country collapsing into a nightmare Christian National Socialist country will eventually set the world ablaze, and that meteor cannot get here fast enough. ↩︎

Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain

Well, we made it to Monday again, Constant Reader, and I suppose that’s reason enough to be happy in these uncertain times, right?

Paul’s building officially goes on lock-down at three. He’s been going into the office, wearing gloves and maintaining social distancing, primarily to get things done that could only be done from there while preparing for the move to working from home. I’m quite relieved, frankly, that he won’t be going back into the office anymore; that’s one less thing I have to worry about. I am going to be working at the office on a hit-or-miss basis mostly; our clinic is still open for patients, but our STI clinic is closed for the duration (although there’s apparently a conference call this week between upper level department personnel and the Office of Public Health about that. Social distancing or no social distancing, in times of distress…people tend to hook up more, and the fatalism that comes with times of distress generally means condoms aren’t be used…I hope a protocol to keep both us and our clients safe can be found so we can commence with testing again); most of us from our department have been helping with screening the patients who arrive for appointments, to use the food pantry, or pick up prescriptions at the Aveeda pharmacy on the second floor.

Yesterday I reread Daphne du Maurier’s “Don’t Look Now” and was once again, as I have been every time I’ve read it, by the mastery on display in that story. I will undoubtedly post a blog entry about it again–I started writing one yesterday–and when I was finished, I started reading Thomas Mann’s “Death in Venice”, which is a new-to-me story and one I’ve been meaning to get to for quite some time. Others have mentioned I need to read du Maurier’s “Ganymede” as well; it’s included in her collection The Breaking Point, which I have a copy of somewhere, but couldn’t put my hands on it yesterday, so this morning I downloaded the ebook. (And bravo to the du Maurier estate; it wasn’t that long ago that a lot of her work was unavailable as ebooks; they are all up now and ready to go, which is very cool and exciting for a du Maurier aficionado like myself. It means no more scouring eBay or aLibris for used copies of uncertain provenance and condition.) I hope to finish reading “Death in Venice” tonight; and get started on “Ganymede” either tonight or tomorrow.

I did manage to get some writing done; I revised a story for one of those blind-read submissions I was talking about earlier, and was very pleased to have the intellectual challenge of writing something again–even if it was simply a matter of revising. I am going to spend some time at some point today revising the other story for the other blind read; the Sherlock story’s deadline was pushed back a month so I can go ahead and focus on these other two stories–which, as I said, are merely revisions, which makes them a bit easier. I am hopeful doing these revisions will help me out in the long run and get me back into writing again, just as reading those short stories will get me back into reading.

We also started watching The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina on Netflix this weekend. I had tried the first episode when the series originally dropped its first season whenever that was, and frankly, wasn’t too terribly impressed with it so stopped watching. Paul at some point over the last few months was over at a friend’s, who had it on in the background, and he suggested to me that we give it another whirl. Very glad we did; it’s extremely dark and incredibly well done; far superior to its sister show Riverdale (I can’t help but think how much better Riverdale would be if it aired on Netflix rather than the CW), and we are pretty much caught up in it now. I love that there’s a gay main character who is actually being allowed a love life (Ambrose) and a non-binary character who may or may not be a lesbian and is depicted carefully, honestly, and authentically; this is actually rather huge, and I am curious to see where the character of Susie goes.

Louisiana’s cases–in particularly, the confirmed in New Orleans–continue to rise every day, and as more testing is done I suspect will go through the stratosphere. There have been twenty deaths in Louisiana this far–fifteen of them in New Orleans–and I have yet to check the latest death/infection toll. Our rates are climbing must faster than Italy’s did; which is not a good sign, and our health care infrastructure here is going to be overwhelmed very quickly, if it’s not already happened. I suspect (and hope) that Crescent Care might become a designated COVID-testing drive thru site at some point this week; it only makes sense that we do–we have the perfect set up for it, really; the way our building was constructed, with the garage on the first floor with a different entrance and exit and the clinics on the two floors above–but I of course don’t make those calls. Ironically as this first started, I did think and hope that upper management would make that offer to OPH and CDC; I hope that we are going to be a part of the solution to this pandemic, rather than on the sidelines.

And let’s face it–for some of us who work there, this isn’t our first deadly pandemic.

And on that note, it’s back to the spice mines. Shelter in place if you can, Constant Reader, and have a lovely, quiet, safe and healthy day.

charlie