Instrumental

 Today's earworm: Truly, Madly Deeply (Ray Lamontagne).

Quiet, peaceful. Lovely. 

I hope you enjoy. 

Me Too, Duolingo. Me Too.

Natural

 Current earworm: Natural (Imagine Dragons). 

This reminds me of working out at the gym. Someday, it will be safe to do that again.

Creature Comfort

 Herself speaks.

I've hit a figurative wall. 

We've officially passed the one-year mark for the first Pandemic lockdown. It's been about 15 months since I've seen any of my family of origin in person. And 9 months since I've seen Cherished Friend in person. It's been 13 months since I've gone to the gym. It's been that long as well since I've shopped at a grocery store, visited a bookstore, looked for new clothes in person. Eaten inside a restaurant. Gone to a movie theater. Gone anywhere purely for the pleasure of going there. 

I keep busy with work and other tasks. But isolation and loneliness have crept in underneath everything. 

I do see Beloved Husband, of course; he has been exceptionally busy with work, though, and that takes its toll on his ability to be available for companionship. The Offspring are occupied living their own Pandemic lives. I do see my family of origin and Cherished Friend by Zoom on occasion, and that helps a bit. Still, everyone is just full up with Getting By right now. I'm hesitant to ask for more time from anyone. I know that my ability to give time and attention is limited, because Exhausted, and it's likely they all feel the same. I don't want to be a burden on anyone. 

My heart aches. It does every spring, and now, more than ever, this Pandemic spring. 

I've tidied my possessions -- sometimes, putting my spaces in order helps alleviate the ache. It has not done so yet, though. 

I am at the point of new pet acquisition. I may ask whether I can adopt a pair of the Beans. Because nothing soothes the heart quite like the ability to make a small fur creature comfortable. 

The Cutest Beans We Have Ever Seen

Yet Again, No.

This ad turned up in my Fitness/Calorie Counting app. The app knows my weight and my height - its algorithm cannot possibly have come to the conclusion that I would want this garment. Good heavens. No.

One Year Later

 What a long, weird, terrible year.

Back to Normal, So To Speak

 Herself speaks.

Eight people, shot dead in Atlanta, by a guy who bought the gun that day. Who "had a bad day", said the police.  Apparently, a "racist misogynist day" was too long a phrase to use. 

And ten people, shot dead at a supermarket in Colorado yesterday. I haven't seen any news on his motive yet. What possible motive could there be? Christ Almighty. 

Now that Pandemic restrictions are lifting, I guess we are back to American Normal, where ordinary folks are killed just doing ordinary things. 

I haven't been to a grocery store in over a year now.

And now I have no desire to do so again, any time soon. 

It's hard not to despair sometimes. No one is safe -- not from viruses, not from violence. Not from a deranged man with a gun. 

Can we make things better, please? 

Shoes

 Herself speaks.

I am plowing through all the seasons of Star Trek: Voyager, one episode at a time, while using the treadmill for exercise. When I was younger, I did not quite understand Captain Janeway (and, in fact, found her to be a bit abrasive), but now that I am over 50, she is much more comprehensible. I like her as a Captain, very much. Well done, Captain.

I encountered one episode this week, however, that I just could not watch. I skipped to the last 5 minutes to make sure all was resolved, and then fast forwarded to the next episode. I won't go back and try to watch it again. What type of episode is unwatchable, you may wonder? 

The gist of the episode was this: an alien who was capable of shape-shifting, took the form of one of the crew and pretended to be them. AAAAAAAAAAH NO THANK YOU.

I'm not quite sure why Prince-and-the-Pauper/Freaky Friday/other such place-switching stories are so very horrifying. It's almost a visceral reaction for me. I think that the problem I have is that I cannot suspend disbelief long enough, to imagine that it would ever be at all possible for one person to have the knowledge and ability to impersonate another person so thoroughly. Each person's information and experience is completely unique to them, and the very idea of attempting to "be" someone else, with a goal of fooling other people, is nauseating. 

Perhaps part of my dislike of such plotlines, too, is due to the fact that I have so much trouble putting myself in other people's shoes. If I cannot imagine how other people think, there is absolutely no way I could ever understand how impersonation is possible. It's just... not, as far as I can see. 

It's a weird little quirk, I know. Fortunately, that episode is behind me. Onward, to other frontiers. 

REALLY BIG BEANS

So cute!

Sunshine

This time of year, there is a little square of sunshine that appears on the third-to-bottom stair in the morning. Tiny Dog likes to sit her tiny self in the sunshine for a few minutes. Nice. 

-----

When Offspring the Third was newly hatched, he was a bit jaundiced. The pediatrician recommended a bit of sunshine to help. In the house in which we lived at the time, a lovely ray of sunshine would come in through the family room window mid-morning, and I would warm the room and undress him so he could bask in the sun on my lap. It was a lovely quiet time. 

So long ago.

My heart cracks just a little bit, remembering the days when the Offspring were small. 

Contemplative

I love this photo.

What is this bird thinking about?

Fly, tiny bird, fly. 

Photo Copyright 2020, 2021, Mediocria Firma.

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.

Sail On

This is a lovely rendition of a song from years past: Sail On (this version sung by Lionel Richie and Tim McGraw). (Am I officially old enough to say, a song "from my youth"? Seems I might need to be just a tiny bit older for that.)

It's a sad song, but lovely. I hope you enjoy. 

Happy Pi Day!

It was hard to get into the mood for pie baking, but it is Pi Day today, so... behold, apple pie. 

Mmmmm.

Current Mood

Striped Pajamas

 Content warning: Quite Serious today.

Herself speaks.

I saw a meme on FaceBook the other day, that made me think, I need to take a social media break. Or possibly filter a whole lot more people.

I won't post the image here, because it does NOT need to exist in any more places. I'll just describe it to you:

It's based on a still shot from the movie, The Boy In The Striped Pajamas: on the left side is the pale, emaciated boy in his dirt-covered, striped concentration camp uniform, sitting on the ground in the dust. On the right side a boy stands in a field of grass and looks across at the sitting boy; the standing boy has on a clean white shirt, clean knee-length shorts, socks and shoes. Between them in the photo is a post; barbed wire extends to the left from the post, showing the sitting boy to be enclosed behind the wire. 

You can find the photo online. You'll know the one. 

Superimposed over the heads of the boys, images of states: the concentration camp boy is "New Mexico", and the free boy is "Texas". The caption reads: "Exactly how it feels."

This is in reference to Texas lifting pandemic restrictions, while New Mexico maintains restrictions.

No.

No, no. no.

Really? Following pandemic restrictions -- wearing a mask, limiting the number of people in stores/businesses/restaurants at one time -- is somehow equivalent to being stripped of your humanity, torn from your family, starved, abused, and possibly gassed to death, solely for being a particular religion/ethnicity/minority? Putting a piece of cloth over your face and social distancing is equivalent to systematic genocide? 

No. 

The restrictions are designed to prevent loss of life. Yes, they can be inconvenient. Yes, there has been serious financial impact on businesses, individuals, the economy as a whole. It is a pandemic. Over 525,000 people HAVE DIED. This is a crisis of epic proportions, which we are all experiencing, and will continue to experience in new and terrible ways when restrictions are lifted too early.

I. Just. Cannot. 

Let's never use the Holocaust as part of a meme or a joke. Let's JUST NOT. Find some other way to express your dissatisfaction with the current state of things. 

Please. 

We shouldn't even have to ask. 

Wrong Target

Oh, Facebook ads: NO ONE wants me to purchase this item. No. One. 

Comfy

Every now and then, Old Dog wakes up extra early - usually because he is thirsty. After a drink and a trip to the back yard, we return to bed. Instead of settling back into his crate where he usually sleeps, he climbs up onto the bed. Tiny Dog is Not Fond of him being in her sleeping domain, but eventually they work things out. And then Old Dog sleeps like a log for a few more hours. 

Good boy, Old Dog. 

Weighty

 Herself speaks.

Let's talk a little bit about what it is to be overweight. Not the why of being overweight, but the how.

-----

I'm approximately fifteen pounds away from an "acceptable"/not-overweight point on the (outdated) BMI scale. It's hard to admit, because being overweight is so heavily (pun intended?) considered to be a moral failing in society today. Fat? You're slovenly, careless, undisciplined, just generally unworthy. This is the message that we encounter every day, in every context -- even in a medical context unrelated to weight. Need your pinky X-rayed because the joint is swollen and painful? By the way, lose weight. It's exhausting. And it leads many people, myself included, to be hesitant to seek medical care. We are afraid to step on a scale in the doctor's office, because it damns us, every time. 

Furthermore, pseudo-well-meaning strangers hop onto that medical bandwagon: I'm just worried about Fat Person's health.  No, you're not. Don't cloak your shaming in the guise of concern; we see right through. WE ALREADY KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BE FAT. Fat people are aware they're fat, and know full well that being fat will have an impact on their health. You're not worrying about our physical wellbeing; you're just reminding us yet again that we're deficient in your eyes. If you were truly worried about our health, wouldn't you also be concerned about our mental health? The constant negative barrage is harmful. We just want to live peacefully.  Instead, we exist in our fat bodies as a visible moral failure, and we know we are being constantly judged by those around us. It's mortifying. 

The body positivity movement helps a bit; and yet, it attracts so much negative attention, that it's hard to see the Good that is there. The message of the movement is so simple: fat people can be at peace with their bodies. They can even enjoy existing in their bodies as they are now, whether or not they are taking action to make physical changes. It is not a crime, not to display constant shame for the way one's body exists in the world. And it's OK to feed a fat body. All bodies need nourishment, even fat ones. Fat people don't need to starve themselves as some kind of penance for being the way they are.

It's OK to be happy, even when fat. 

The hard part is letting go of the indoctrinated shame, and to just be. To feed the fat body properly, to exercise it, and to tend to it, tenderly, as you would care for any other person. 

I'll keep trying. 

Meow Meow

Today's pet interlude is brought to you by Offspring the Third's lovely kitties. 

Speed Limit

 Beloved Husband turns 55 today. 

Happy birthday, you hardworking, ever-optimistic, perpetually cheerful man. We love you, and wish for you, many more years of marvelous adventures ahead.

Leaves

 Today's earworm: Leaves On The Seine, David Lanz.

This is lovely. Perhaps I should find the sheet music for it.

I hope you enjoy.

Grasshopper

“Will you walk with me, Grasshopper?” - Kung Fu

Photo Copyright 2020, 2021, Mediocria Firma.

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.

Conference

 A Conference of Beans, with Momma, who is imparting all the Bun Wisdom. 

Photo Copyright 2021, by Keeper of the Beans. 

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.

Birthday

 Offspring the Second's birthday is today. I know how much the Pandemic has put a wrench in his long-term plans for his life, and I so wish I could make things different for him. He is stoically silent, going to work, waiting, trying to figure out when he can launch new aspects to his life. He must miss attending live music events; I remember how much he has enjoyed them previously. 

He is so kind, thoughtful, diligent and hard-working. So intelligent. Such a dry wit. What a lovely human being he is. I wish for more for him: more freedom, more goals met, more safety. More vaccines. 

You are tremendously loved, Offspring the Second. Hold tight -- the future is coming, and you will be able to Fly. 

Photo Copyright 2020, 2021, Mediocria Firma.

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.