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Fourth of July
Banjo Man
Glen the Banjo Man
together again
Mom and Dad on safari in Kenya.
This picture was on my mother’s refrigerator for twenty-six years. That’s how long she was without my father. They were together for fifty years and very much in love until the end. She never got over losing him.
She died yesterday. Peacefully. In her sleep. The dementia had worsened very, very quickly. On her 94th birthday, April 9, she had Face-timed with me. She knew it was her birthday, she knew who I was, and she was chipper and cheerful.
And then it all went downhill.
Death during the Time of the Virus is a very difficult process. Hospice was called last weekend, but only one Hospice worker was allowed in to the nursing home–and only once. All recommendations were done by phone after initial assessment.
I was allowed one “end of life” visit, for 30 minutes only, on Monday. I wore a gown, mask, and gloves. It’s no wonder my mother had no idea who I was. But I doubt she would have known anyway.
There are severe restrictions on funerals now, so there won’t be any kind of service. Only five people can attend any gathering, either at the funeral home or the chapel at the Veterans cemetery. So Banjo Man, daughter Nancy and I will represent the family and do our best to make sure we honor my mother as well as humanly possible.
The rest of the family sadly has to stay in California and DC and Texas, due to quarantine rules. This of course is not what anyone wanted or envisioned when it came to saying goodbye.
I’ll end this with one of her favorite pictures, taken a couple of years ago at the beach with the great-grandson she adored.
“Tell me a ‘John Story’,” she’d always say. Her face would light up as we’d describe his latest antics.
Rest in peace, Mom. We know Dad is making you laugh again.
Posted in family, rhode island
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winter wednesday
Okay, I know it’s not winter, but the “real feel” temperature here today is 28 degrees. Oh, that cold wind is whipping around! Doesn’t look like spring is coming any time soon.
I bundled up for my daily walk around the driveway, but I am glad to be back inside my warm office, with a cup of tea here on my desk. I’ll go out again later. The walking not only helps with the sciatica, but I think fresh air is like preventive medicine.
Boston health officials recently tested 400 homeless men and determined that 150 of them had the Corona virus but had no symptoms. What does that mean? Are they able to fight off the devastating effects of the virus because they live outdoors? Because they are thin? What is going on?
No one knows. Not yet. But I vote for “fresh air” being a top reason. Which is why I don’t understand why our beaches, among other outdoor places, are closed. We should be outside, practicing deep breathing (also good for lung health). The more fresh air the better, as long as you’re not within six feet of anyone else. That’s my theory!
Here’s a favorite from one of Austin’s finest, Johnny Nicholas. The pandemic means he won’t be performing in RI in a couple of weeks, but we have all of his cd’s and are grateful for his music.
Posted in music, rhode island
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wicked tulips
So many lives and businesses have been affected by the Corona virus. That’s quite an understatement, isn’t it.
I learned about this business from an article in the local paper.
Wicked Tulip Farm
They planted 7 acres of tulips this year. But their annual “pick your own” season has been cancelled due to government restrictions from the virus.
I will never understand why people are being restricted from self-distancing outdoors, but so be it. I would wear a mask to pick tulips and save a business, wouldn’t you?
This young couple is offering a “virtual experience” through Facebook. For $10 you can buy a “ticket” and have access to pictures of tulips as they bloom during the next weeks. You can help support a very special business and maybe even donate tulips to hospitals and nursing homes.
Here’s their Facebook page!
https://wickedtulips.com/pages/u-pick-event-sub-homepage
Posted in rhode island
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sunday gumbo
I had enough ingredients to put together an “improv” gumbo this morning. Banjo Man is delirious with joy over the smells coming from the kitchen.
I didn’t have fresh vegetables. So sad, but I raided the freezer.
A bag of frozen chopped green peppers? Well, that’s different, but better than nothing.
A real onion!
A frozen ring of Andouille sausage. Hurray!!
Where did these chicken thighs come from and how long have they been in the freezer? Don’t ask. They’re cooked and in the gumbo now.
How about if I use the New Orleans Cooking School gumbo spice instead of my usual concoction? Why not? This isn’t Christmas Eve or a special birthday dinner. I can try something new with an audience of two. And the guy from Nebraska is not fussy.
There is no celery. Doesn’t matter, not today. Not this month, even.
No okra hiding in the freezer, though we looked twice. The grocery delivery arrives late this afternoon. Whether or not the frozen bag of chopped okra is going to be in one of the bags is unknown. In fact, we’ve begun calling these deliveries “Mystery Food”.
Check out that New Orleans School of Cooking spoon. It cost $26.00. But I love the design and the feel of it in my hand. It made fabulous roux this morning on my fabulous gas stove burner. No one is ever going to be allowed to touch that spoon–except me.
The sun is out, so while the rice is cooking I’m going to take a walk around the driveway and work up an appetite.
Maybe we’ll put on a New Orleans cd while we have lunch.
Posted in family, food, rhode island
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the last night of week five
Last night ended five weeks of being isolated in the house.
All of you out there know what that means.
Along with tequila I had chips and salsa for supper. Dessert was a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
The entertainment of the evening was episodes eight and nine of Season 4 of THE WIRE.
We wore the same clothes we have worn for five weeks (we do remember to wash them once in a while, if we think about it and actually get around to it), also known as our Virus Uniforms.
Sometimes we clean up the kitchen. Sometimes we don’t.
Every day we walk the loop in front of the house. But not together. Banjo Man walks fast. I still limp. It’s a solitary exercise, but we’re breathing fresh air.
We have our morning chat every day, after I fix my first mug of coffee. Banjo Man usually comes to my office and we chat about the world. There might be a discussion later on in the day about dinner. Or not. We meet again around 6 or so for our tv programs (no news allowed in the evenings). We have been known to have popcorn for supper, but don’t tell anyone.
There is still plenty of food in the freezer. We’ve realized we don’t really eat that much.
And I am starting to go–ever so slowly–insane.
Posted in family, rhode island
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gritting my teeth
Yesterday was a difficult day and I am trying very, very hard not to rant. There are some days when everything is hard–due to the virus restrictions–and my blood pressure most certainly soars.
And I am not going to bore you with my complaints and whining.
Needless to say, I wish I lived in one of those states that was opening soon. As a “high risk” person, I will certainly be avoiding crowds and I will be self-isolating. I’ll be eliminating all unnecessary shopping trips and will wear a mask everywhere. I will take care of myself. But I think I should be able to go to the dump and the bank, among other places.
I think I should be able to walk on the beach. I should be able to see my doctors.
If our governor has her way, we’ll be on lock down for two months, if not more. That is one hell of a long time. Especially after a year of breast cancer.
The walls are closing in.
Yesterday I “auditioned” fabric for the sides of my scrappy “isolation quilt”. What started out as a simple project to fill up the hours evolved into something much prettier than I had imagined. So I had to up my game when it came to selecting the side-setting triangles, which will frame those 50 blocks.
This project did not go well. I ended up ordering some fabric from a quilt shop in Great Falls, Montana. It may or may not work, but at least the fabric was half price. Plus I supported a local store.
Forget “Take Out Friday”. Yesterday, after spending an hour or two cleaning up the fabric mess, I declared it to be “Take Out Thursday”. Last night we supported one of our favorite places, Tony’s Pizza. I ordered a large salad and a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza (I parked in a space near their door and they delivered the food to the back of my car). Banjo Man and I turned on the tv and dug in as if we’d never eaten pizza before.
Thus ended five weeks of quarantine.
Posted in family, quilting, rhode island
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will the sun ever shine
DAY 34 OF THE QUARANTINE.
48 DAYS UNTIL WE HEAD WEST.
This song was written after 9/11 and ended up in a Disney movie. I came upon it by accident yesterday and wanted to share.
And of course the sun will shine again. We just have to wait a little while longer…
Posted in music, rhode island
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good cookie, bad cookie
Okay, I admit I’m out of practice making cookies. Except for a few afternoons of cookie-baking with my little friend Sam, I’ve been out of the cookie-baking habit since 1988.
Sam and Claire, December 2018
Claire’s birthday was last week. Needless to say, the family is practicing strict self-isolation. So…no party.
I baked chocolate chip cookies and, despite the almost-burned bottoms, they turned out just fine. So I packaged up a dozen or so and, along a pink box filled with pink Barbie gowns, delivered them to Claire.
How did I have pink Barbie gowns? Well, my daughters had dozens of Barbie dolls and assorted outfits. A few years ago I found them all stuffed in a garbage bag, so I picked out the decent clothes, washed them by hand and dried them on a towel in front of fireplace. Then I packed them in a plastic bin marked “Barbie”.
Which meant I could find them almost immediately when I entered the storage room. Banjo Man was incredulous. For Claire’s birthday gift, I picked out all the pink dresses and outfits to put in the pink gift box. It was a success, according to Claire’s mom.
Last Sunday (Easter) was Sammy’s birthday. Can you imagine the disappointment? Not only don’t you have a party, you can’t even visit your grandparents or go to the beach! I did have some new Matchbox cars put away, along with a New Englands Patriots “Spot It” game, so it was easy to put together a birthday basket.
But I needed cookies. So I turned to an old favorite, my grandmother’s sugar cookies. Make the dough, roll them into balls, press them with a fork, sprinkle sugar on top and bake. Easy, right? Sam and I had made them before. I even had fancy sprinkles.
Ready for the oven.
Except…
The cookies melted together and turned into a sheet cake. I had made a double batch so the disaster continued on for a while. You see them in the bowl? I had to cut them in pieces to get them out of the pan. They were buttery and crispy and yummy, but they were too ugly for a birthday gift.
In the midst of all of this chaos, Banjo Man poured himself a glass of milk, sat down at the table and ate six of the bad cookies.
So I started over. What had I done wrong? I realized the original recipe called for shortening. I had used half butter and half Crisco. BIG MISTAKE.
What on earth was I thinking????
The next two dozen cookies were perfect.
Thick, dry and crunchy. Not too sweet.
Happy Birthday, Sam! Next year will be much more fun, we promise.
Posted in family, food, rhode island
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stand back
I found what I thought was the perfect mask when I watched this You Tube video:
At the 41 -second mark you will see how easy it is to put on. There is a filter pocket, too.
I made six of them–which took all Friday morning and some of the afternoon–before realizing that the cording was necessary. Those ties made from t-shirts didn’t allow the mask to slide easily.
I said a lot of bad words.
On Saturday I was up at 5 and searching the internet for 3/16″ clothesline. And my local Home Depot had it in stock. But how to get it? Well, Home Depot has “pick up lockers”. You buy your clothesline online, pay for it with a credit card and then you receive an email with a bar code and access numbers. All you have to do is go to the store, find the lockers and scan the code. You didn’t have to interact with any humans and risk certain death.
It sounded good to me. I ordered a 100-foot roll. That’s enough for twenty-four masks. Banjo Man asked me to buy giant garbage bags, so I placed that order, too.
Saturday afternoon I drove twenty minutes south only to discover that the Home Depot parking lot was packed with cars and there was a line of at least fifteen masked people waiting their turn to get inside. Lots of DIY going on in southern Rhode Island this weekend!
I turned the car around and went home.
Sunday afternoon (after the Walmart grocery pick-up) I tried again. This time there was no line. We put on our masks and gloves and trudged across the parking lot looking like we were about to perform surgery. Just inside the door was a row of lockers and a scanning machine. The directions were clear: scan your bar code for access to the locker. I found the first email on my phone and scanned the code.
“STAND BACK”, came up on the screen. We almost knocked ourselves over trying to get out of the way before one of the lockers exploded open in a violent fashion. Nothing happened so we tried again.
STAND BACK.
We stood back, way back. And then? A little “pop” and a locker door opened three inches to reveal the two boxes of garbage bags.
I repeated the process for the clothesline cord. Success!
It’s good to know that this shopping option exists, at least if you’re not buying tile or paint or lumber.
We’re in Week 5 now. I’ll be checking the grocery stores to see when I can get a delivery next. We’ll need milk and yogurt and eggs by the weekend.
Too bad Home Depot doesn’t sell food.
Posted in family, rhode island, shopping
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is there any more pie? 