The apple had, over the winter, wrinkled and shrunk, dried halfway to leather in some root cellar, and the little creature bit into it with relish all the same. It had found the offering laid out on a few flat stones by the roots of the backyard apricot tree, which was beginning to bud, pink and plump. “The last of the harvest and the first promise of the next,” it thought to itself, “and here’s me, no farmer’s brownie, but I suppose we all do what we can with what’s lying about.”

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LL#1227

After a brief and unexpected illness and hospitalization, my friend A’s husband died. The funeral was Friday. Seeing a traditional funeral and indoor reception drove home that we made the perfect choice for us to have dad’s memorial outdoors and casual. I’m not criticizing how A handled the situation--different folks, different strokes. But with this happening so soon (relatively speaking) after dad’s death, it was impossible not to have the two things get tangled up in my head.

For contrast from last week, at my first succulent club meeting post-surgery, my friends merely expressed happiness at having me back and satisfaction that I was back on my feet. No demands for information, no invasive comments. It was lovely.

The HR person at work fucked up in covering my medical insurance deductions while I was out on leave. Despite having the check I gave them for nearly two weeks, it wasn’t cashed early enough to be correctly applied to that pay period. So then my next pay stub had double deductions (in addition to the check having been cashed). It’s getting sorted out, my insurance is still active, it will be fine. But I was not exactly pleasant and understanding in my emails with HR, because this was an inexcusable dereliction.

More weird weather, with another burst of hail mid-week. Wild swings between 70 degrees and below freezing. Somehow, the fruit trees that are in bloom have *not* lost all their blossoms yet.

Lewisia: 3 new pieces written

Day job: 42.75 hours and I’m right back in the thick of our usual nonsense

Gardening: succulent club meeting

Reading: Return of the King audiobook, thus wrapping up the Serkis productions (there was so much that spoke to fragile hope in dark times, I spent much of my listening on the verge of tears)

Listening: MYTH: Side Two and MYTH: appendix by The Narcissist Cookbook (wonderfully creepy and melancholy and weird, this is the sort of eccentric project that just gets me feeling so inspired, like making things is really worth it)

Clock Mouse: 1285 words

Other: got our first duck egg of the season! 🦆

Sometimes, it was difficult to know what was a local phenomenon and what was more broadly expressed, if not noticed by other people. When the sun ponderously reversed course to glide back east again rather than set, a Lewisian might chalk it up to local weather, or personal figment of the imagination, rather than assuming it was a global cosmological event. It often came as a surprise when imported news sources acknowledged an unusual event, though they always seemed to find such mysteries more threatening than Lewisians.

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LL#1224

1. Did the house where you grew up have a newspaper delivered regularly?
Yes, the LA Times, daily. Which is something of a wonder, given we were a ways out of town.

2. Have you ever subscribed to an actual print newspaper?
As part of the household, to whatever degree that makes it my subscription. Unfortunately, at my current house, the delivery was so unreliable (I think we had something like six months of credit at one point from missed deliveries) that we eventually gave up. And the newsstand prices have become so outrageous, especially in light of the anemic state of print papers, that it stopped being worthwhile.

3. When was the most recent time you physically picked up and read a newspaper?
It's been a few years now, sadly. My dad used to sometimes pick up free copies from work at the end of the day, when they would otherwise be destroyed.

4. Do you pay for news online now?
No. For the most part, I follow individual journalists to keep up with their work, plus whatever gift links are passed around social media on a given topic.

The thing I liked about print papers was that I got a little bit of everything and could stumble upon interesting things that way. As readership fell, newspapers decided that cutting back on content would somehow save them. So the print papers became steadily less interesting. And now, the websites of papers, even setting aside the paywalls, seem actively hostile to that sort of browsing. Everything's got to funnel you toward the clickiest clickbait parts.

More importantly, though, I've become so disgusted by the editorial choices of many papers (NYT, anyone?) that I have no interest in financially supporting them.

5. Do you have any saved newspaper clippings?
Yes, there are still a few posted up on the fridge. Mostly comic strips. I used to love the comics. Not just the Sunday color ones, but the weekday black and whites. In elementary school, one of my go-to choices at the yearly book fair would be comics collections. Calvin and Hobbes, Garfield, Farside, and Bizarro all got read to the point of total spinal collapse.

Mum probably has more saved away somewhere. We used to have some advice column clippings from many years ago. There was one about communicating with one's children that said it was better to answer your child's hollering to you with "yes," rather than "what." Something about putting both of you in a more positive frame of mind, more open to whatever is about to follow. For some reason, this always stayed with me and is something I do at work all the time. Make of that what you will. :P

Welcome to the March edition of Pandemic Garden Club! Growing good things in strange times!

Anyone is welcome to comment with what they're growing right now, things they would like to try, problems they're encountering, and questions they have. Share resources, answer questions, shout encouragement.

As for myself...

( Read more... )

"I like your style," the little imp creature said with a placid smile, while the girl panted on the floor in the midst of her ruined kitchen. By "style," it seemed to mean the way she had flailed and thrashed when confronted with something small and furry raiding her fridge, which had resulted in a lot of smashed mugs and scattered blueberries. "I knew I picked a good spot to stay," it concluded as it made a nest out of tortillas and biodegradable produce bags.

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LL#1222

Lewisia welcomes back all citizens and inhabitants who have been hibernating, and we would like to offer some reminders for easing your reintegration into the waking world. It is critical in these early days to reestablish the connection between your mind and body, as with any long-term consciousness alteration, so eat wholesome and delicious foods, limber up with gentle stretches, and spend plenty of time observing the sensory details of your surroundings. The wider world has waited this long for your return--it can wait a little longer while you get up to speed at your own pace.

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LL#1220

1. Would you rather have a fun job that doesn't pay well or a boring job that does?
I'm presuming, for the purposes of this question, that we're still operating in the current economic structure, ie I must work to live. If I can have earbuds in, I'll take a boring job any day. I've done manufacturing work wherein my hands and eyes are engaged, but my brain can mostly check out. I got through a ton of audiobooks and podcasts like that, and it was pretty great. It did not, in fact, pay especially well, which is why I moved on to other things. I can make my own excitement in my free time if I have the money and energy available.

2. Would you sacrifice your morals for a job?
No. Well, not if other people are being harmed. I have walked away from jobs that crossed a line for me, albeit on a relatively low level. I was technically a whistleblower, but we weren't talking high crimes here. I was, on the other hand, willing to endure things I consider immoral when directed at me, out of economic desperation.

3. Would you ever take a job that requires you to be in costume?
I'm chortling over the idea of doing electrical work in a fursuit, though that would present some physical limitations. I can't think of any work to which I am suited that would ever require a costume, though. Most are customer-facing, and I wouldn't want to go back to that, with or without a silly/degrading outfit.

4. What is your fantasy job?
Not to be smugly That Guy, but: I don't fantasize about work. If it's still a situation of needing to work to live, I'd actually rather it be work about which I have some emotional distance. Doing anything I love deeply under the pressure of survival is a disaster for me. It's why I wouldn't really want to try writing full time again unless I was also independently wealthy.

5. Would you like fries with that?
*instinctively falling into Customer Service Voice in sympathy* Yes, please, thank you. Have a nice day. *leaves tip* *nearly walks away without food* Sorry! Thank you! *nervous laughter*

I’m playing a bit of catch-up on this, as I didn’t have the energy last Sunday to post.

Friends, I am having A Time. In addition to one horse dying the night before I left for surgery, our other oldest horse just died the day after I got home again. Because why not?

There’s a reason a small, superstitious part of me believes all good things must be paid for in blood--the universe really likes to pull this sort of shit on me. If I was going to have any sort of complex emotional response to finally getting top surgery, it has been entirely swamped and swept away by having to have emotions about this shit instead.

I replaced my cracked iPad. (Did I tell y’all about that? Well, in any case, it does what it says on the tin--my iPad cracked horrifically, replacing it was a situation.) The ebook reader app I had been using no longer exists, so that went poof. Fortunately, I had separately backed up the files out of suitable paranoia. The new one I’m switching to does not make me happy, but what does? I’ve at least finally got all the other apps reinstalled, so it no longer feels like I’m missing half my brain.

One of the failures of said brain recently has been: I did not renew my driver’s license when I should have (ie months in advance to offset bureaucratic delays), so now I’m stuck with a temporary while waiting for the new physical one to arrive.

You know who doesn’t consider an expired DL as valid ID? The identity verification site used by the short-term disability service. Oh, they specifically say you can choose an expired DL and a temporary as a document type in their FAQ, but that isn’t actually an option I can select. So. I can’t submit anything for income replacement until I get the new one. Neat.

The windows of waiting versus the windows of filing are technically such that I should be okay. I love the feeling of being okay on a technicality. Fun.

It is difficult to remember that I have only been home for three full days, because they have been wall-to-wall bullshit. I just want to rest???

Day job: 8.5 hours--a lone Monday for strategic leave-taking reasons

Reading: Strangers in Paradise volumes #2 and #3 by Terry Moore (god, it’s like popcorn, just devouring it by the fistful), The Light Eaters by Zoë Schlanger (maybe because I was listening to this while in the hotel room pre- and post-surgery, but I just couldn’t get into it the way I have the last few nature books), relistening to Martha Wells’s Murderbot series #1 and #2 so far (a forever favorite)

Listening: Water Still Flows by Rich Ruth (via KEXP, complex jazz sounds with just enough of a lofi beats vibe to make it chill), Dolmenwood: Journeys Through Wold and Bog by Tales Under The Oak (even more immersive soundscapes than their previous albums, very good)

Aftermarket Parts: TOP SURGERY! Which I will definitely write about eventually. Maybe once I have these blasted drains out and don’t feel so uncomfortable and on-edge.

Clock Mouse: 1089 words last week, 1084 words this week

Well, friends, here I sit. Perch, really, on a barstool in a little hole-in-the-wall cafe. I've got over two hours before my appointment is scheduled.

Why so much time? I had to return the rental car this morning. Since I have no idea what traffic to expect, I'm giving myself a lot of buffer time on everything. This will result in a lot of sitting around, trying to keep my anxiety under control.

The surgical experience has not gone swimmingly so far. In fairness, it's nothing to do directly with the surgery. Monday, I got home from work to find out one of the horses was suddenly, inexplicably, and severely unwell. None of the local emergency vets was going to be available until the next day. We predicted that was going to be too little, too late, but there were no alternatives. We provided what medical care we could to at least keep her comfortable.

She died in the night. I'll write about her eventually. She was the last show horse and the one I worked with most, because she was active during and after college for me. She was 25, which is a decent run, as far as these things go. I loved her a whole lot. Shit sucks.

So Tuesday morning, with a storm incoming, I helped my mom use the tractor to drag her out into the field. One of our neighbors has a backhoe, and they've dug graves for us several other times. Mom will be able to get her buried with their help, but moving her into position was a process.

Then I got showered, packed up my luggage, and headed out to get the rental car. Then drove for hours, into a storm. To get to a city I've barely visited and only driven in once very briefly. As the most country of country mice, who is more accustomed to driving on unpaved country lanes than narrow, congested city streets.

It's been two and a half days, and this week is fucking with my head.

So here I sit. With tea.