Comfort Zones

On reading the latest about Drumpf’s recent lawsuits claiming executive privilege in investigations of the January coup attempt, I started to wonder just how much he has spent over his life on lawyers. It boggles the mind to contemplate. Even compared to another person with too much wherewithal, it must be astronomical. Imagine all that dough going someplace necessary, rather than to cover the ass of that weasel.

In my dreams…

I was walking at night alone through a shabby neighborhood when a heavily made-up, dolled-up woman in her thirties approached me. “You know, you’d get a lot more guys if your boobs weren’t so saggy,” she advised, plucking some sheets of flat packing material from the trash and fashioning them into a bra for me. I donned her creation and she yanked the straps up tight to heft my gravitationally challenged appendages. Her brother, equally creepy, appeared out of nowhere to school me in the way of the sexy sashay: a badly losing proposition that caused the siblings to storm off together in disgust.

In real life, look who visited my back porch.

Several nights ago, on the eve of my Chico trip, Molly introduced me to a new BritBox series that I’d never heard of: QI, a British quiz show that is unexpectedly engaging and funny. When watching comedy, I rarely even crack a smile, but this show had me beaming, and sometimes chuckling right out loud.

All went well in Chico, except for one moment: A couple hours after my arrival and lots of hugs all around, I received a call from a Kaiser number. When I answered, a woman (after confirming my identity) said, “You were in for a Covid test the other day. I’m calling because there were problems with it.” I felt a rising panic that somehow my negative test was wrong and that I was, as we spoke, infecting my unsuspecting family.

“I need to talk to you about the result,” she continued. “What do you think the result was?”

“Uh, negative,” I replied.

“No, it wasn’t,” she corrected.

Luckily, moments before I might have completely melted down, I recalled the other negative result from Test the People, and finally realized that she must be referring to the first Kaiser test: the one they messed up. Yup. Unbelievable: Kaiser really needs to train their phone agents in communication skills, and in looking up a medical record before alarming the patient nearly to death. Inexcusable, if you ask me. It took a while for the all-encompassing feeling of panic to drain out of me.

And when it did, it was back to the trampoline where there was much bouncing by the older kids, as always…

Ember convinced me to give it a try. After a couple of awkward leaps, I climbed back off, and for the next five minutes the ground under me continued to shift unnervingly. I don’t need to try that again.

Meanwhile, Ruby got her own form of exercise.

Eleni and I, too, got our own kind of workout. Clearly influenced by aforementioned dream, I kept finding myself attempting to sashay sexily, like a runway model, while walking around the yard. I got Eleni to try too. Here’s documentation of our efforts.

On this visit, Ember agreed (with considerable hesitation) to join me at the AirBnB both nights. It was a better-than-average place, complete with a hot tub that I thought would appeal to Em but didn’t. We had a lovely time hanging out, playing games (she always slaughters me in Memory), and making Halloween decorations. As usual, I read to her before bed and at last we finished the delightful Abel’s Island, and then began another book whose title I can’t recall but it’s about a geriatric goose and a girl who, rather dangerously, believes she can fly.

Unbeknownst to the kids, Eleni and Jason decided to get a couple of barn kittens to take care of some rodent issues on the property. Though these are meant to be “working cats,” one of them is clearly highly social. Ember and Jesse were beside themselves with excitement upon meeting the new additions to the rather extensive menagerie.

After leaving Chico I made my way down to Wilton, a handful of miles below Elk Grove, to spend a night with my old Irish dance friend Shirley, whom I haven’t seen in probably close to five years. Too long. There, I plunged out of my Covid comfort zone when she took me to dinner at a nearby indoor restaurant. Even masked, I’ve barely been out in public for over a year-and-a-half, opting instead to order groceries online from Good Eggs and generally stay away from people. And as far as being inside and unmasked, well, that felt nearly equal to jumping out of a plane without a parachute. But no one else in the establishment appeared the least bit concerned. I found us a booth in the corner of an empty room, and we were soon joined by Jen, another member of our late, great, eight-person dance team: the same team, I’ll have you know, that won first place in the North American Irish Dance Championships in the mid-2000s.

Here we were then…

And now…

On our way home later that evening, Shirley invited me to join her family in Ireland over Christmas (she’s from County Mayo). I thought about it very seriously for the better part of a quarter of an hour before abandoning the notion.

Shirley, her hubby Scott and 12-year-old daughter moved to the country about five years ago, where Shirley’s able to indulge her love of animals by providing a home for a bunch of goats, sheep, a pig, a cat, and four dogs. The latter, when I was trying to work on my computer last night, buried me under their affectionate bodies: a blind old black Lab with one ear and a harelip sprawled across my feet, a couple of strawberry blond doggies pinning down each arm, and the fourth pawing at my shoulder. I wanted to take a picture, but was imprisoned in that ocean of fur.

This morning we donned some Wellies and sloshed through rain-sodden muck to see the rest of her animal family. This is Shirley the Human with Shirley the Goat and friends.

Now I’m back home keeping Bloggy company and once again maintaining distance from other humans in anticipation of seeing my north-state family again in two weeks. Oh, and I booked an appointment at CVS for my Covid vaccine booster. I couldn’t get another Moderna shot yet (I guess that’s a few weeks out) so I decided on Pfizer since sooner seems better than later.

Toodles for now.