mad world

I'm holed up in my living room, as usual. The sky is blanketed with light gray clouds. I work up sweaty and disoriented. I feel like I could be doing something . . . SOMETHING! But instead I donated. And I spent a long time writing a letter to the editor. It has been pretty quiet here. There have been protests in other neighborhoods and, of course, in Oakland. When I'm out walking I sometimes hear people (men, mostly) talking about going to Oakland for a protest.

And I run into nice neighbors. Yesterday I saw Cody, who said he's been gardening at George Davis, City of Dreams, and HuliHuli. As we were talking, he gestured with a handful of thyme. His very old dog leaned against my knee and I patted her, even though we're not supposed to do that in Coronaworld. On Friday I chatted briefly with J and her dog over in Silver Terrace. It's not much contact, but it's something.

I start to wonder if I had much of a life before. Well, no, not really. Wait, what does that even mean?

I watched A's book interview the other night. A as charismatic as ever, the interview just fine. I'm about halfway through her book and it's a fun read. I would have tweaked phrasing here and there, and I don't always think the timeline makes sense. But who cares what I would do? The book is selling quite well.

Dad called me by accident and I picked up, just to make sure. I kept talking until he realized I was on the line, and then we had a pretty good chat. He was cogent and in fairly good spirits. I asked about Brittany and he said she has been excellent. So they are getting help and they like their helper. That is a big relief.

MemDay

It is warm! But I'm sitting outside in the shade and there's a good breeze. Earlier today I was out here cutting back the jasmine when I heard a very loud crashing sound. A small pickup truck had collided head on with a small Honda. Nobody was seriously injured but both vehicles were pretty smashed up and had to be towed away -- eventually, after almost two hours. It took a little while for several police (or the 5-0, as my neighbor John likes to call them) to arrive, in four or five SUVs. One person was taken to the hospital in the paramedic van, but not on a stretcher, so I'm guessing it was precautionary. 

The car and the pickup collided right in front of my house, where the hill crests. By the time I got down there somebody had already called 911 and all of the people involved were out of their vehicles and standing on the other side of the street, looking stunned and drinking water that they either had on them or that one of my neighbors had given them. Marlon and I agreed that the pickup truck driver was probably trying to pass another vehicle on the uphill (maybe double parked, or maybe just going too slowly) and couldn't see the oncoming car until it was too late. 

I commented on Marlon's facial hair and he said since he can't go to his barber he decided to grow full sideburns like his brother used to do, but he can't get there. He showed me a photo of his brother, maybe from the 80s, wearing killer sunglasses and a knit sweater, with his fist raised in what I hope it's not flippant of me to call a black power salute. And thick sideburns, of course. 

After standing around uselessly for a bit, I went back up to my yard. I heard some arguing at one point, and some yelling from John and Tanya. (They are both very loud talkers, and they like to get involved in things that happen on the street.) I glanced out my window once or twice and saw a man -- the driver of the pickup, maybe -- sitting in the middle of the street, between the two vehicles. He may have gotten a little too worked up. Two police were looking down at him and making notations on their pads. But I didn't see much point in watching it all play out, especially since the police were there. 

I did occur to me that this was probably a life-altering experience for the people in those vehicles, and yet here I was just going about my business.

twilight sky

I stood outside for a good while last night, watching the sky. It was a monochrome wonder. Sometimes I think I would be much less happy if I didn't have this view. I've taken so many shots of clouds and sky and fog and moon and sun. And in these days of working at home, I spend many hours sitting in my green chair looking at the treetops, rooftops and streets running through the "valley" just south of my house, and also at Bayview Hill, turning golden yellow, and San Bruno Mountain, and the unending stream of cars moving along 101. And the sky, of course.

It rained some during the night. I slept a little later than usual, and for breakfast I had the last piece of toast bread with a fried egg, with a bowl of blueberries and slices of orange. It is almost noon. I'm going to take a shower and wash my hair. Eventually.

Will I get around to calling Mom? I hope so. I feel like I should do it but, as always, I find it difficult. Why? I don't know, really. I've never been a phone person, for one thing. My parents never call anyone, including me, and we have never talked on the phone regularly. And nowadays I report our conversations, at least briefly, to my siblings, and then I have to deal with the comments (if any) that they make. Family interactions make me feel scorched inside, sometimes. Why? Anxiety is a basic fact of life, of human existence. I know that's true and I have tried to allow space for it, at least in the abstract. But it is a struggle. I sometimes feel like I should be able to get beyond it.

Crosstown trail

Met up with KW at Forest Hill Station and walked north on the Crosstown Trail to Golden Gate Park. And then, after we stopped for a bit to watch the turtles sunning themselves on logs sticking up out of Stow Lake, we walked back. Maybe five miles, in all?

When we started out it was a bit cool and cloudy but by the time we got back to our cars, the sun was out and the sky was blue and dotted with wispy clouds. It was invigorating. Those neighborhoods -- Forest Hill, Golden Gate Heights, Inner Sunset -- are both deeply familiar and utterly foreign. I was struck by the solidity and scale of the houses and the trees -- everything looks established, orderly, and under control. Whose control? I don't know.

My drive home was punctuated by bad driving on the part of others -- one driver in front of me was clearly anxious about making turns. A woman made a left off of a side street and cut me off without noticing; I had to hit my brakes. A man decided to pass two cars while going uphill; I was going uphill from the opposite direction when he suddenly appeared, heading straight toward me; again, I had to hit the brakes. Are people losing their grip, or was this just a random cluster?

I devoured the remains of my faux-Vietnamese tofu and noodle dish. Worth making again, with more lime and fewer chiles. I am sitting on my little patio, half in the sun. Watching bees working on the poppies and a hummingbird poking its beak into the salvia. The wind is stirring and I think it's going to feel too cold to sit out here fairly soon. Supposedly there is a rainstorm coming later today.

Yesterday I was feeling low, partly from a lack of sleep and partly because I was feeling detached from everything. Luckily, Niu had set up a virtual happy hour in the afternoon. A chat with her and Joe and VH, followed by my daily walk, cheered me up considerably.

solitude

Here, in my solitude, I have the feeling that I contain too much humanity.
-Ingmar Bergman

I've been kinda out of it. Not in a bad way, really. But my days have been a little too drifty from the POV of my better angels. I've written a few blogposts, taken some walks, and am very slowly reading SN's manuscript. I have occasional Zoom get-togethers and talk on the phone sometimes. I've gotten in touch with some old friends (including my ex-husband) via email. I chat with neighbors outside, on the sidewalk. I've sewn on a few buttons. I do some weeding and pruning and watering. I'm cooking a bit more adventurously than I did before the shutdown but not baking much at all. I buy a weekly loaf/round of bread from Xan, the neighborhood baker.

Not sure where I was going with that -- just then I heard a thwack and when I went back to check, I saw a pigeon fly from the shed roof and bounce off my kitchen window, and heard a second thwack. Not a smart bird! It didn't hit the ground -- it fluttered and flapped up to the top of my fence and sat for a bit. Then Ellie texted to ask if I have garbanzo beans.

And . . . now several days later I remain adrift. Woolly-brained. Unmotivated. Basically fine. The sun is trying to penetrate a cloud blanket. I'm nudging myself to get outside for my end-of-day walk. 

Ariel

I heard from Ariel yesterday: 

How are you, thanks for contacting me I am doing well now but unfortunately I got sick with the Covid19 nothing serious thanks god but I went in quarantine for more than two weeks separate from everyone just this week I was clear to be able to be around my family not sure how I got it but I think was one of my subs workers who got sick he passed to me and another painter I have to shutdown everything after I got sick so we haven't work for 3-1/2 weeks now but I am glad that next week we can go back to work and I hope we can make up for the time that we miss, let me know when you are ready again to move with the project I have two other engineers that you can contact I mentioned your name before I got sick so when ever you ready I can send you their info.

Cheers,

I love this guy. He thinks, speaks, and writes in tightly organized run-on sentences. Easy for me to say, but maybe getting sick made it easier for him to suspend work for all that time. I know that this whole thing sometimes feels phantasmic to me, and I'm still working and getting paid.

I think it might be time to start thinking about the front of my house again.