My Pandemic (and How Was Yours?)

Here I am at last with a real live bunny, 2021.

Fourteen months in solitary confinement on the Divine Property. If anyone thought to ask me how I was I'd say, "It's not a lot different than normal, except Zooms took the place of meetings." Sometimes Zooms were okay and other times if people let their pets nose into the frame or talked at length about personal or family illnesses I would "Leave Meeting." Once in a while I'd suggest changing the subject or returning to the reason for the meeting, but on Zoom that sounds very rude. Listened to numerous instructive Zoom lectures and workshops; it helped if I did listening only.

Compared to many people I had it easy. No aged parents to visit through glass, or to die; no kids to home-school; I could pay my rent. About 10 people I knew died; this included three I counted as good friends. So sorry: Jean, Shirley, Peter. I went on a week's road trip and recently to a social gathering. We tried to talk about the year 2020 but no matter who we were and what happened to us we could barely remember it. It was a lost year.

I worked. I had a blizzard of work all the way up to the end of April 2021. When I was not working I gave myself work. Who knew when this would end? A vaccination appointment opened up on March 31. 

I still don't know how I feel, or how I got through it. I journaled every morning and as each notebook was filled I destroyed it.

This blog goes back to 2007. I think it's time to end it here. It began as a poetry/comedy blog. I haven't had those in me for a while although I did all I could to get them back, beg them back, force them back; they were my treasures. This morning, a gorgeous June morning leading into a gorgeous June day (there's still some left), I tried hard to photograph a marigold-colored butterfly among the marigolds, but did not get the photo. When I get good nature photos I tend now to post them to Facebook rather than here. Thank you for your Divine support over the years and may you fare well.

Dawgs for Sale

I tried to call the number but each time I was laughing too hard to finish dialing. You have to give them an A for effort, though. I wanted all three chiwawas. I really need three little ugly vicious yipping pop-eyed demon dogs to leap up and bite my fingers and my guests' off. They are manic and insane. One time I was sitting watching TV with my hand over the armrest and a yipping chiwawa jumped up and bit halfway through my hand, and the only good thing was, I could seize it with my other hand and toss it into the next room and shut the door on it, and it stayed quiet for a while. Don't "oh poor doggie" me. . . a chiwawa is not a dog. Dogs are love. With Italian matiffs I have no experience.

The Animal Friend

Hermann here grew up feral, and bit by bit--it took 13 months--my friends Tom & Julia beckoned him onto their porch and gained his trust. They set out a bed for Hermann, fed him, and one day he came indoors and now enthroned on their bed he allows them to pet and hug him. But Rufus, the big ginger cat who rules the rest of the house, is fiercely jealous. So I the cat-sitter was instructed to keep them separate, and every day I entered the bedroom, shut the door, and talked to and played with Hermann, but he wouldn't let me touch him. Then I left the bedroom door open by accident and heard awful hissing and returned to find Rufus in the bedroom squaring off with Hermann for the fight of the century.

I stepped into this violent situation yelling and without thinking. Rufus clawed my left palm, a wound just shy of requiring stitches, and my thumb and forefinger. He retreated looking embarrassed.  Hermann cowered beneath the bed for a day and when he came out for his evening snack he let me pet (with my good hand) his beautiful striped fur and even rolled over for a belly rub. Delightful. There is nothing like making friends with a cat. I took this photo at the last breakfast I would serve him, because his mom & dad were coming home that night.