Life – Page 8 – This Old House 2

Kung-Flu and other nonsense

Watching Trump’s Tulsa rally the other night was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. Such a rambling jumble of nonsense. Not three notes strung together on Unity – and if you don’t have your head up your ass right now the unrest in our country is alarming to say the very least, the continuing unjust deaths and blatant racism, and the most ignorant statements on Coronavirus that his handlers later tried to spin as a joke. Of course.. today he corrected his own staff by saying he was not joking. Since that rally, 8 of his staff at the rally have tested positive for the virus. His direct quote “”Here’s the bad part: When you do testing to that extent, you’re gonna find more people, you’re gonna find more cases. So I said to my people, ‘slow the testing down please!'”. He also called it the “Kung-Flu” – That .. is so… fucked… up. As a person who lost her father this month to the disease, and as a person who as empathy for the families of the other 122,000 people who have died of it…. (and he has expressed ZERO empathy for the lives lost, zero) …. believe me, having witnessed a person die of it personally – it’s no flu. My father’s entire organ system shut down going from 0 symptoms to dead in days. Days. To hear the President of the United States speak this way is truly unbelievable. That whole speech was truly unbelievable – That he even HELD A RALLY despite health officials in that town asking him not to, despite the ongoing pandemic, is unbelievable.

I’ll share with you some photos and funnies to cleanse that ugly palette of information up there…

This morning’s mist was so thick if I had a bar of soap with me it would have lathered up as I drove the gator to the manure pile.

My new kayak, a perception Tribute 12.o they don’t make anymore for some reason, is everything I hoped it would be. And I got it for a bargain basement price – score! I just can’t gain any weight – like not 2 more pounds. really. 😳

A lovely person left this beautiful rock in my mailbox this morning with a card full of kind words. I had posted a video some weeks back on FB of my chickens walking with me to the coop – and mentioned perhaps my Indian name might have been Walks with Chickens.. She got such a kick out of that she decided to make some art for me… I just love it and she’s so talented!

These two memes below made me laugh right out loud and it’s been a difficult week, I sure needed it.

I hope you are well and staying sane. Thank you for stopping in –

Till soon –

Observations from a Person of a Certain Age

I am editor of a small town publication and I sometimes ask Mom to write a piece for me when I feel a topic needs mention but submissions or my own writing don’t cover it. I have to be careful not to inflame, my job is to stay neutral, and in a small town like ours that’s monumental. With all the racial upheaval, I felt somehow it needed to be addressed in the next issue, and yet I knew it’s nearly impossible not to insult someone. I wasn’t looking for finger pointing or shaming or blaming, but an acknowledgement of some sort. So… I tasked my mother with this difficulty… and I think she nailed it.

Observations From a Person of a Certain Age – by Kathleen Amoia

As a white middle class woman of a certain age, I spent my childhood and teen years within the safety of what those adjectives implied. In the late forties and throughout the fifties, my friends and I felt simultaneously free and watched over. We had an unspoken sense that the future would treat us kindly and our comfort and success could be taken for granted. In our ignorance, we imagined most kids lived the same way.

But as our teens morphed into young adulthood, we saw another America. Our TVs brought racial injustices and brutality into our living rooms. The childhood and teen years I had experienced were the polar opposite of what black children my age had lived. The Civil War was only yesterday, and Jim Crow was now.

By the time we were taking on the responsibilities of career, marriage and families, we were also facing multiple protest movements and assassinations. I was teaching fifth grade when an ashen and shaking principal came to my door and told me that John Kennedy had been assassinated. I was teaching third grade when Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy and Malcolm X were assassinated.

Our city streets were afire with the anguish of inequality and its blow back. Marchers were beaten, hosed, attacked by dogs and jailed. Fires were set, city blocks destroyed. Black and white civil rights protesters were murdered. Through the fire and pain, President Johnson, a Southerner, a Texan, pushed Congress to act on his Civil Rights agenda and bipartisan progress was made. It was slow, sometimes ugly and painful, but it was made.

The struggle for racial justice is front and center again, sparked by the killing of George Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer. It is hard to predict just what will galvanize a mass movement, there have been similar cases very recently. But Floyd’s death triggered this one.

The marchers today are more numerous and significantly more diverse. Positive interactions with police and National Guards men and women have been encouraging. The movement is being carried into all corners of our democracy. And with some unfortunate and regrettable exceptions, the protesting has been remarkably peaceful.

The understanding that systemic racism needs to be eradicated wherever it lives is gaining wider recognition and acceptance than ever before. From my prospective as a witness to both the 60s and today, I think we are in a better place to get this done than we were then. We are starting farther down the road and therefore closer to bending that arch of history toward justice.

What I have seen throughout my life is that good people usually do good things. Most often they are our family, our friends, our neighbors, our local officials. There is no perfection here. Mistakes will be made, fault lines will surface. “There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in. ” (Leonard Cohen.) But I think we can come out of this movement a stronger and better nation. It is not guaranteed, but if we are willing to do the hard work ahead, thinking of ourselves as “each other” and not “the other,” we can get there for ourselves and all our children.

“ It is in the shelter of each other that we live,” an Irish blessing for the times.

Sanctuary

Thank you for all the kind words of comfort for the loss of my father, I have some truly wonderful readers/friends here in this little space of mine. ❤

We could talk here today about all the turmoil we are witness to out in the greater world… but I think instead I’ll share with you my walk about this morning on our farm, my sanctuary. I find the routine of caring for the animals and the plants and the home is soothing and restorative. Even cleaning the house and disinfecting the bathroom feels refreshing, who woulda thought? My home has always been my sanctuary, and now even more so.

When we decided to add goats to the mix I wondered if I had lost a few marbles, looking for more chores. But in truth, we have found much joy with our two little goat girls, Bella and Star. They are so very friendly. When my husband comes home from work he gets out of his truck and the goats immediately call to him. It sounds as if they are saying… Daaaaaa daaaaaaaaa. He get’s a kick out of it, and I get a kick out of him, the big guy…..enjoying them.

Having our show horse, Leah, home has been a blessing too – away from the stress of horse shows, she is contented with getting to graze more and with a larger turnout, less work. The horse show world has opened up again, they’ve been hurting just like any other industry, but we’re not ready to wade back in to crowds, we’re going to take our time with that.

It was 48 degrees here this morning.. in June. Hence her blanket. Brrr…

Our mini’s Coady and Lacey like having the goat girls nextdoor, they often hang out together at the fence line.

These chores ground me while the world beyond is so restless and *fraught*. I am so thankful for every day spent living here enjoying and working the land and the gardens and our home, tending the critters we take into our family.

Current situation here in my office – as you can see, my coworkers are slackers. PS – I’ve gotten many compliments on this rug – you can find it at Rugs Direct if interested. It’s more bold than my usually choices but I absolutely love it here in my office, as well as that faux hair footrest courtesy Homegoods.

Meanwhile, down at Stella by the Sea, the little seaside gardens are also growing, and I splurged on a new Kayak, as my Ruby is showing a lot of wear after 15 years of dependable service. My new perception tribute is a leftover they don’t make anymore, and I saw it sitting on the rack at a local marine shop for over a year. Last week my masked-face self went into the store and boldly (for me) asked if they’d consider selling it to me at a discount since it had been sitting there for quite a while. They said yes! .. and I got it for hundreds less. I’ll share that with you later in the week. If you’ve never tried kayaking before but feel comfortable on the water, it’s a great way to get a full body workout and you don’t even feel like your doing any sort of tedious exercise. Lakes, large ponds, rivers, coves, oceans if you’re brave and comfortable and experienced…with so many options and price ranges, there’s a boat for you if you’re so inclined. I highly recommend it, and it doesn’t cost more than the initial boat purchase.

No. 15

My father passed on June 6th of complications from COVID-19. He was No. 15 on the death list in his nursing home and there were 66 residents out of 100 who were Covid-19 positive at the time of his passing. More than a few employees of the facility were also sick.

The facility itself had a good record initially – 2 months in lock down and no cases. We got daily e-mail reports. No cases. Then, someone brought it in somehow, and it spread like wildfire despite the many precautions they had in place.

My Dad had some hobbies and habits that were just a little reckless in his lifetime – not significantly so, but enough that I would not have believed a virus would be what took him in the end – and just 5 days after being diagnosed without symptoms. We hadn’t been allowed to visit him and he hadn’t been allowed to leave the facility or his ward even for those two months. He had been tested several times for the virus along with all other residents and his initial test was negative. Just last week it came back positive – but he had no symptoms. A few days later he had a fever and felt weak so I asked them to send him to the hospital because I wanted him monitored there in case he took a turn for the worse. They sent him to a clinic instead because he wasn’t struggling for breath, where they built him up with fluids (he was dehydrated) and gave him tylenol and oxygen. (his O2 was low). We were not allowed to accompany him but we were in touch with the Dr. as he treated him. He felt dad was not in distress and sent him home with instructions to remain on 02 and fluids and tylenol…. the only line of defense available.

They asked me repeatedly if I wanted to keep the DNR in place he specified years ago. So I asked Dad what he wanted because he was totally lucid, after all. He said – Keep the DNR in place, but I want hospital care if I get worse.

That whole time he did not appear to be too sick. He had no breathing difficulty and his color was good. He was comfortable. Just the nagging fever that came and went, peaking at around 102 but coming back town with Tylenol, and some mild weakness that came and went. We kept in touch with him via cell phone.

On June 5th I received a text in the afternoon that he was failing quickly.

What?..we just talked to him.

The text came back – you may come for a window visit. You can’t come inside but you can go to his (first floor) window. We’ll have his blinds up.

Are you telling me he’s dying?? we ..just… talked to him.

Yes. come. His labs are not good.

And so we did. What we found was my Dad, sitting in his recliner next to the big window in his room – looking like his normal self. He was joking around, he was taking calls (I had family call to say their goodbyes without him knowing that specific reason) he stood up to adjust his clothes and he looked .. normal. Through the outside window we had a decent visit and I honestly thought he was going to kick it, he seems pretty OK considering. I thought the labs weren’t giving the whole picture. I should have known the nurses of course know what they’re looking at. I asked him one more time – Dad you seem comfortable but would you like to go to the hospital where they have more options for care should you get worse? No, I’m comfortable here, I want to stay. It seemed reasonable, he wasn’t in any distress and seemed.. really ok.

At 5:30 am the next morning there was a voice mail on my phone and I knew without glancing at it that he was gone.

We’ve had a difficult relationship, my father and I. I don’t really have the right words here. What I know is, I tried to do right by him, and I think he tried to do right by me.. in the ways that he was capable. There was anger I don’t have reasonable words for. From both of us. I have struggled with that whole deal my whole life, and while I thought I was doing my best to do right by him in his last years, I am finding now that he’s truly gone that there are still… regrets. Nagging little regrets. Probably 15 differently little regrets that I could have done things just a little better. The very thing I tried to avoid, but there it is.

_______________________________________

I know you’re not just resting in peace, Dad. If there is truly any concept of a Heaven… well, let’s face it… you’re in pergatory, where I would most likely land, myself. So I hope you’re slapping another round of cards on the table among departed family and friends, telling a tale or two or three, throwing in a joke you’ve told a few times before. I hope Sandy met you at the gate with tail wagging, and I pray for calm seas and smooth sailing from here on out for you –

With love – your daughter xo

Goose Rock

Yesterday my daughter-in-law to be and I paddled out to Goose Rock from our little Stella-by-the-sea, where I suspected we might find a good amount of sea glass before the summer crowds rolled in. Goose Rock is a very very small island made up of – just rock – located at the mouth of our cove in Long Island Sound, part of the Atlantic. With the wind against us it took us about a half hour to paddle out, coming back around 20 minutes as the tide was coming in at the same time. Good timing! One must paddle out there at low tide and when the water is calm in order for the beach part of The Rock to be exposed.

We scored big on Goose Rock yesterday!

…. and rewarded ourselves and the husband with burgers on the grill and these. I’m not much of a drinker, and definitely not a beer drinker. But a Corona with a Lime slice hit the spot after a solid paddle workout on a calm sea.

I was going to write about all the unrest you definitely have been observing yourself, but the posts have been heavy lately and I think the world needs more “sea glass adventures” in general. Wishing you the same in whatever form that takes.

Thank you for stopping in, for leaving your thoughts, for being a decent human in this world. It all matters.

Cops are not the problem

Cops are not the problem. Disturbed sick people who take the position of power because it gives them license to do heinous things that appeal to their mentality are the problem.

Priests are not the problem. Disturbed sick people who take the position of power because it gives them license to do heinous things that appeal to their mentality are the problem.

Trump is not the problem. People who applaud a man who is proven by his own deeds and words to be divisive, lies regularly, spreads false accusations and conspiracy theories, has cheated his entire life, a mocker of handicapped reporter, a self proclaimed pussy grabber who believes there are good people on both sides of a white supremacy event… because some of what he does appeals to their mentality are part of the problem.

For those who will say “Oh look, she’s politicizing a racist event” … you’re damned right I am, because it’s all interconnected. We are not totally powerless when it comes to horrible events such as the death of Mr. Floyd at the hands of a racist officer. There are steps we can take to fight the negative tide. And if each one of us did those simple things, we are each and then as a whole the collective answer to that horrible scream of violence and injustice everywhere.

Stop supporting or defending the undefendable. It comes in many forms.

My “thoughts and prayers” go out to the Floyd family, to all families who have suffered loss at the hands of racism, which is still rampant ! , to all the decent law enforcement folks, first responders and healthcare workers who are doing the good work every day, literally putting their lives on the line for all of us, every single day… but my “thoughts and prayers” aren’t anywhere near enough. It’s going to take more than a village to clean this world up…. it’s going to take every single one of us to realize we each at least have the power with our own actions, and at the very least to vote hatred out.

I hope that’s your choice come November. I don’t know of any peace that can be bestowed on Mr. Floyd’s family, there’s no taking back what’s been done… but I hope justice is served.

Love in the Time of COVID-19

In recent years the political and ideological divide we’ve all been a witness to here in our Country and around the world has been tremendously disconcerting. It bubbles over as our governments and our peoples struggle to sort out and best react to the tremendous challenges of fighting a worldwide pandemic. Both economic and health concerns put an additional strain on an already beleaguered civil unrest and it can be hard to find a balance, to look for the good when it feels like the whole world has been shaken like a snow globe and the dust has yet to settle. Some of us have lost our jobs, our source of income – or it’s been put on hold temporarily. Others are on the front lines either in hospitals or food service stores, pharmacies, etc trying to protect their own health as well as that of their patients/customers. Many are isolated from their loved ones, most are not living the life they had just three months ago. The worst off are dying without family nearby to comfort them and say farewell.

When something as awful as this pandemic grabs us by the proverbial throat, something else happens along with it. Remember the response we all had to the 9/11 terrorist attacks? As horrifying as that event was, and I hope we never witness something like it again, it also brought us together. There were flags everywhere! People waved, honked, and thanked first responders, healthcare workers, police and firemen – those whose careers and COURAGE! put them on the front lines every day. We were nicer to our neighbors, didn’t matter what their political affiliation or nationality, they were us and we were them. We were proud of our flag and it stood for what it should – our pride and love for our Country. We were Americans, all. This virus spans the globe, not just our Country. We’re really and truly all in this together. Perhaps some good will come of it, a coming together of sorts as we figure out how to wade back into some sort of normal. Those flags are now rainbows drawn on sidewalks, hearts in windows and on mailboxes, red ribbons tied around trees. They say – THANK YOU, WE’RE WITH YOU, WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER. And indeed, we are, once again. Let the good things that come out of this pandemic ripple out and the togetherness remain.

In the meantime… I’ve picked up my paint brushes again to see what I can create…..finished this last night … Little Cinnamon Beach, Peter Bay, St. John…

Made this a few days ago and oh, man.. easy to make, delicious too – give it a go if you like to cook, and maybe even if you don’t! It’s sooo good…

And… I’ve been playing with goats! Our new little Star and Bella have been a wonderful distraction from the troubles of the world. Goats are so friendly when raised with kindness. They call out to us when they see us walking up to their little pasture and come running to rub up against us. If we’re sitting with them, they’ll lie next to us or try to climb up on our shoulders, no kidding! No pun in tended!

As the world begins to lift the stay at home orders and businesses begin to re-open, stay safe and be kind. Those with significant health issues will need to be as vigilant as ever. Anxiety will still be present, the concerns are real and the virus has not gone away. As my friend Sean says at the end of every post… WashYourDamnHands.

Till soon, friends…

COVID-19 Perspective

For those who need perspective to understand the severity of Covid-19, in 2018 in Connecticut approximately 700 people died a flu related death. This year so far coronavirus has taken more than 3,000. Can you imagine if we had not used the difficult precautions put in place? Precautions we do not take for the flu. The symptoms have been growing as they learn more, and right now there are children at Yale with strange symptoms of the virus. In otherwise healthy people, Organ failure, heart inflammation, blood clots throughout the body are just a few odd symptoms for some patients with the disease. This is not a joke, it’s not a hoax meant to take down the President ( yes I still have a FB friend who believes it ) it’s serious shit, so Thank You to all who are on the front lines, thank you to those doing kindnesses where you can, Keep wearing masks in public for now and keep washing your damn hands, as my friend Sean hashtags regularly. It’s important. ❤️

Love City

St. John USVI is also called Love City, a moniker that harks to the destination’s true promise of romance. It may be smaller than its siblings St. Thomas and St. Croix, but this petite isle is a big boy in the world of love.

I finished my little painting of Cruz Bay in Love City – and I decided to use it to raise funds to help Dana of The Carolina Corral on St. John. With the COVID-19 restrictions, tourists are nonexistent, and with them, their donations and fees for the trail rides Dana provides with her small herd of rescued horses. She also has donkeys, goats, dogs, cats, pigs and the occasional reptile – as she is one of only two rescues on the island. Water is scarse on the rocky island and she has to buy it along with the hay and grain needed to care for the animals on her farm. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfless, hard working individual. In the past two years she and her animals survived two hurricanes, and now they’re in the midst of this pandemic along with the rest of us, struggling to get by. Until tourists return, there are no trail riders, no fees to help pay for the supplies sorely needed and very few donations.

I’m having a printer friend make 5 x 7 notecards of my painting – blank inside with white envelopes. I will give/mail a set of five note cards/envelopes to anyone who makes a suggested donation of $15. directly to dana at Carolina corral – the donation button can be found at the bottom of her website – http://horsesstjohn.com/

If you make a donation, please send me a message at trailblazer65@Hotmail.com with your mailing address and I’ll send you the note cards. Dana will let me know she received your donation.

I hope you’re all staying sane and well – a little COVID-19 humor, if there is such a thing…

Thanks for stopping by –

Karen 🌻

Two Goats and a Wedding

Bella and Star have arrived! And oh, we are so in love. 💗

Star, now about three months old… see the little Star on her forehead…. She is the baby who was rejected by her mama at birth, kicked with a resulting broken leg. She lived in a cast for a while and was nursed along by the dairy goat farmer, who let us adopt her once she was healed. She does have a limp but she can run along with her playmate and I think once the atrophy from cast living has had time to build up strength again, she’ll get even better, although as long as she’s happy we’re fine with a gimpy goat. She is super friendly, having lived her first few months in the house of the farmer, hanging out on the couch watching TV on his lap at night.

This is Bella… the silver dots on her head are still visible, where she was humanely dehorned before coming here. She is 7 weeks old, her mama just weaned her naturally ( they start kicking them away when they try to nurse) and so she came with Star and they are already best buddies.

It’s been raw and rainy for their first few days here so they’ve been wearing dog sweaters /coats to keep the chill off, now that they aren’t with their herd of babies and moms.

About that Wedding! My Aunt P was widowed a few years ago after her dear husband of many years passed on, and she moved back to our state to be near family and friends. Slowly she began the hard work of building her new life, missing my Uncle terribly still…. and reconnecting with old friends, volunteering at a Therapeutic riding facility too. A few years into life as a widow, she met a lovely man, also a widower, who is a kind, gentle soul. They found they were kindred spirits, sharing a love of family, long walks, meals together, and they both longed for a shared life with someone they cared about. After a happy courtship, they decided to wed. Plans were made, and then COVID-19 appeared. Plans sadly cancelled, as their children and grands are spread around the country and not only was a large gathering unsafe, the travel even more so.

After a little time passed and some thought was put into the dilemna, a plan was hatched. A very small ceremony was held yesterday at Parmelee Farm here in Town. My mom is a Justice of the Peace and she officiated. I was the photographer, Aunt P’s son and daughter-in-law were the witnesses. It was a true Family Affair. We all live in separate houses ( the pictured couples live together) so we observed safe social distancing protocol.

💗 Love Wins 💗 🥂