TUNES IN MY HEAD AS I PREPARE FOR HOLIDAYS DURING THE COVID-19 CRISIS and CRAZY LADIES AROUND

I was somewhat Grinchy about Thanksgiving a couple years ago. This year, not so. An Auntie of mine used to say the later holiday was really just for children. It feels that way to me.  But why the hell is the song "It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas" coming into my head as I wash dishes? It is just so cheery!

And here we are in this increasingly worrisome Covid-19 Crisis; It's 2020 and we are going into 2021.  Restaurants can no longer serve people inside or out. Friends have lost their jobs. I know of a few people who are facing eviction. The tent city closest to me must have elected a mayor as the tents were artfully arranged from large to small the other day.

People are going out of their minds with worry, fear, restlessness, anxiety, lack of hope, boredom, and sleep irregularities and sleeplessness.  I'm not immune to any of this. 

So is this why for three strait days two lines from "Along Comes Mary," by the Association, kept running through my head? "When we met I was sure out to lunch.  Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch. Sweet As the Punch."

It's not that I can't fill my time, making slow progress on a research project, or start reading that stack of books other people wanted me to read. But yesterday I felt a little wigged out as the theme song from Sesame Street, Sunny Days, started playing in my head  I once babysat kids who would cry if I took the TV off and so they had Sesame Street on for hours every day.

I walk my dog and around the corner are some children who I suspect are not getting anything for Christmas.  But they have proud parents.  So I've been discouraged from leaving gifts on the porch steps.

I just had another crazy lady in the street start yelling at me re Trump.  And just like last time, I stopped and talked to her, sure she had actually gone insane in the Trump Cult and that something I might say could help her through the Transition.

"I'm a Mexican.  I used to be a Democrat!  I'm ASHAMED that I was a Democrat!" she wailed.  "Do you know what you people DID to that POOR MAN!?  (What, is he the latest to be nailed to a cross?) He has done more for Black People than any President!" And on it went.  I backed away as her finger swang in the air and pointed towards me. "You'll see!  You'll see!  Biden will DIE. Kamala will come in and she'll have those woman with a TOWEL on their head come in.  We'll be SOCIALISTS!" 

I told her not to fear.  I suspected she had not been raised in the United States and probably knew very little about The House, The Senate, The Congress, and our "checks and balances."  I said, "We are electing a President, not a King!"

Sweet As The Punch.

I went home and pulled out stacks of children's books that I intend to give as Christmas presents. I wrapped them all in festive papers. Then I pulled out the recipe for buttery rolls flavored with leaves of bay that I intend to bake and take to a Thanksgiving dinner. I pulled the recipe from the newspaper a while back and it needs yeast.  I went to a couple stores looking for yeast.  Wondering if my search for yeast would end me up in the hospital.

The plan is that everyone will go single file into the house to serve ourselves at the table and then sit outdoors in a backyard ten feet apart to eat.  I'm looking forward to this, but I would also be OK with staying home and watching The Crown. 

I'm in the mood to cheer you up.

Christine Trzyna

C2020

JOE BIDEN WON and IT RAINED

It was 150 days with no rain in Southern California. That statement is probably in error as Southern California is thousands of square miles and it probably rained somewhere in all that territory in the last 150 days.  

However, we have been waiting for it.  

Real rain.  Not morning mist.  Not a little drizzle, though I'm sure the plants would love to have their leaves dusted off so they can breath.  

We wanted a downpour.  An inch.  Rain enough to stop using the hose and racking up the water bill. Rain enough to plant a garden and expect it to sprout.

It happened, for a few minutes. Then it happened again. The wind whipped through the trees.  The pavement was damp. The leaves glistened. The temperature went down and we pulled out the sweaters and warm fuzzy blankets from storage.

Soon after it was announced that Joseph Biden is our President Elect, it rained.

It was as if we had all been holding our breaths,  The fires consumed much of the state.  And then, he was elected.  And then the sky let it out.

That's my perception.

My friends and I opened a bottle of wine.

We all slept a little bit better.

Though we know "It ain't over yet."  (Where is the fat lady these days? Hopefully the White House.)

Then the catnip addicted cat, who now loves me, squinting it's eyes and looking up at my forehead, perhaps at my glowing third eye, got up on their table, though, because he is aging and bony it took more effort, and put out his hand-shaking paw.  "More"

I bought the catnip, claiming to be the world's strongest, at a dollar store. 

I bought it after he got beat up by some studly, younger, and mouse eating cats.

This one, he's an Egyptian. The smartest.  From the Pharoahs.

One of those other cats had put a neat slice in his head near his ear. It was deep and oozing. He was barely walking. He was in pain. His own eyes appeared foggy.  As he went out, my friend said, "In my gut I think he is going off somewhere to die."

A day later he came back.

I made a perch for him on top of their record album collection in the hall. Layered it with blankets.  

He had never had catnip before. The idea was to give him some bliss before it was all over. The idea was to increase his appetite.

Now, whenever he sees me, he wants some.

He is eating.  He is well. His eyes are bright and alert.  From their porch he watches the other cats carefully.

Joe Biden is President Elect.

Will we all get better?

C 2020 Christine Trzyna

All Rights Reserved