March 19, 2021
Yesterday was sunny and warm. Today’s temperature is 41 degrees colder than yesterday and the sky is gray. That shift in the weather, plus a whole lot of other stuff, has dampened my overall enthusiasm.
But I aspire to Batman’s exuberant outlook. So, while I’m not heading outside to slide down snowbanks in my Build-a-Bear undies, my plan is to fake it until I (hopefully) make it.
Worth a shot, anyway.
It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~ Charles Dickens
Exactly so, Mr. Dickens. Which is why I’m sitting in a patch of sunshine next to this geranium that’s reaching for the warm light.
March 29, 2021
The wind can’t touch us here.
This morning I received my first dose of the Pfizer vaccine. While I felt gratitude and relief to be halfway to fully vaccinated, I also felt anger, disgust, and shame. As with everything else in our system that puts profits over people (and planet), the Covid vaccine distribution is unequal. I’ve already blogged about some of the ways access is inequitable here in the U.S. (not to mention incarcerated people’s lack of access), but the situation is even more dire around the world.
Image by Mary Pahlke from Pixabay
The global death toll is currently at 2.77 million. Human decency would dictate that vaccines and vaccine patents be freely shared. Nope. Big Pharma isn’t satisfied with the billions they make each year. They’re lobbying the Biden administration to clamp down on countries trying to increase production. Read this article and weep. And rage.
As the needle pierced my skin this morning, I thought about this excerpt from that article:
Albert Bourla, the CEO of Pfizer, mocked proposals for sharing intellectual property as “nonsense” and “dangerous” at an industry forum last year. The vaccines are netting drug companies $21 billion this year alone, according to one estimate by Bernstein Research.
There you have it: Big Pharma scoffing at the the World Health Organization (WHO). Silly WHO, thinking people’s lives matter more than intellectual property.
So yeah, not totally thrilled to get that Pfizer shot in the arm.
November 3, 2020
Caught in the moment
very unbirdlike posture
robin by Dalí ?
Today I’m grateful for Zippy, pictured here when he traveled with me to the Chiricahua Mountains to see birds. He shops and cooks for us, lets me sleep in as long as I need, and supports me in whatever I set out to do. He will even sometimes laugh at my jokes.
Cave Creek Canyon. May 16, 2019
This guy’s got a good heart and I’m oh so grateful he chose to share it with me.
Yesterday was spent on the couch reading a book because I couldn’t muster energy to do anything else after the latest mass shooting that took place in Boulder. I am heartbroken and outraged that ten people were murdered and grateful my Boulder friends are safe (although deeply traumatized). One of those friends (from the Sunrise Movement) and I had a video call today. We haven’t had an extensive conversation since last June when he hosted a socially-distanced art build. I still remember the rush of emotions I felt that day when he answered my knock at his door. It was so good seeing his kind face again (through the blur of my tears).
Carl, unmasked. June 7, 2020
When his face appeared via video today, I felt similar feelings. We talked and talked and caught up. He shared his ideas for a new direction he’s considering taking. But it wasn’t until WAY into the call that I clarified he’d already taken steps toward that new direction. As he described the place and position he’d applied for, I got really excited for him because it sounded like the perfect fit. Then, just moments after I said as much, he let out a gasp.
“I’ve gotten an email from them.”
“Open it open it open it!”
They want to interview with him next week!
I’m sharing this here because these days so much feels ugly and difficult and cruel. But not this. Reconnecting with my young friend was wonderful. Witnessing him getting very good news was phenomenal. I’ve been smiling all day.
The whole point is to live life and be – to use all the colors in the crayon box. ~ RuPaul
Northern Cardinal, Columbus OH. August 23, 2019
I add food scraps to the worm bin every weekend which has become a bit of a challenge now that it’s only Zippy and me. When a son or two lived here, there’d be more fruit and vegetable matter for me to chop up for my worm friends. Now I have to search the refrigerator to ensure they have enough to eat during the week.
That’s why when I found a bunch of cilantro past its expiration date today, I was really happy. Slightly slimy cilantro in the drawer? Excellent! Now I didn’t have to rely on feeding the worms a ton of coffee grounds (which the worms love but I sometimes worry hops them up too much).
Image by Gábor Adonyi from Pixabay
While I chopped those greens and added them to the cauliflower and zucchini pieces, I thought about how I welcome stuff past its expiration date. Not only furry fruits and rotten veggies, but also coupons. Why? Because expired coupons are a no-brainer: they go into the recycle bin. An expired coupon means one less item in my problematic piles of paper. Straight into the recycle bin.
Sometimes it’s good to let things go, you know?
As of yesterday, I am eligible in Colorado for a covid vaccine. As of this moment, I’m about to pull out all my hair.
Photo by Karolina Grabowska from Pexels
Off and on today, I checked the various sites for vaccine alerts and availability. Every single time, the listings for available appointments were always false. I’d click on the link and get variations of “There are no more appointments at this site.” But just now, I was actually allowed to select a date and time for an appointment and I thought, “This is it!” I made it through the entire process, answering all the questions about allergies, health condition, etc., and then it came time to confirm my appointment. Confirmation? Yeah, right. I got “We’re all out of vaccine.”
I’m very fortunate to be able to commit time to trying to make an appointment. I don’t have an outside job. I have access to a working computer and the internet. If it’s this hard for me to find an appointment, how in the hell are people without my circumstances supposed to get vaccinated?
They’ve had a year to get their acts together on the vaccine roll-out. But the government’s number one priority during this pandemic has been to protect capitalism at the expense of the people, so this vaccine mess shouldn’t be a shocker. I mean, they’re denying us Medicare for All during a freaking pandemic that’s killed 541,000 people so far. People are being evicted and unhoused people living in tents are being harassed by police, all during a freaking pandemic. Our well-being is clearly not the priority.
Still, I can’t help but be appalled how this pandemic has proven (again) that here in the United States, the world’s most expensive health care “system” is the least effective. More than half a million people dead . . . and counting.
Batman, Loki, and Marcel. March 19, 2021
Still life with Batman
became feline adventure
black and white photo
Today I am grateful for the ongoing generosity and kindness of others, especially during these difficult days.
August 18, 2019
I wrote something in an email that could have easily been misinterpreted and this woman read past my fumbling and clumsy words to recognize the intent buried within. In that moment, she granted me peace and tranquility. Her kindness changed the trajectory of my day.
Canada Jay, State Forest State Park. June 13, 2019
The snow has started falling again, much to the delight of these four kids.
It’s been fun seeing the many snow caves and tunnels and quinzhees around the neighborhood. When I lived in Anchorage, my good friend Anne S. did a weekend wilderness class during the winter in which they had to build quinzhees and then spend the night in them. She invited me to take the class with her, but I declined. When Anne returned, she regaled me with stories of a woman named Betsy who struggled throughout the weekend, constantly complaining about cold, wet, hunger, discomfort, etc.
I looked at Anne and said, “I would’ve been the Betsy of the quinzhee.”
True then and true now.
One of my favorite aspects of living in Colorado is the quick change in weather. Yesterday was the snowpocalypse and today is, well, see for yourself.
Shoveling was hard work this morning. There’s A LOT of moisture in the snow and so the closer to the ground, the heavier the load. As I cleared the sidewalk, it took three shovelsful (carving away layers) before I saw concrete and could move ahead.
But now much has already melted. Here’s the corner of the deck from yesterday’s post, along with a shiny photo of the rail at a different stage of meltage:
Can’t wait to see what tomorrow’s weather will bring!
All week, those of us in Colorado were bombarded with forecasts for an epic snowstorm. The forecasts frequently changed (regarding intensity, snowfall, start time, etc.) and during one 45-minute period in which Zippy checked three times, he read three different forecasts. The whole situation began to feel a bit hyperbolic.** That’s no longer the case.
View out my front window about 4:45 p.m. on March 14, 2021
The birds are doing their best to weather the storm, including these two Northern Flickers clinging to the telephone pole and three American Robins hunkered down in a Russian Olive tree:
Photo quality is poor due to the swirling snow covering windows on all four sides of the house. (Full disclosure: my windows were already smudged by cats and dog).
Drought-stricken Colorado definitely needs moisture so I’m not complaining, especially since I’m warm and safe inside. I realize how very fortunate I am.
** My favorite tweet from the week (@PhosphoSolution):
I just attended a zoom call with area children’s writers and illustrators to discuss blogging. When I’d first heard about the call, I didn’t think I wanted to attend because I’m not a typical writer-blogger. I don’t only blog about children’s writing and children’s books. I blog for me, about whatever strikes my fancy. I didn’t think I’d have anything to offer the discussion, but at the last moment decided to attend.
I’m glad I did. Because while there are many different approaches to blogging –sites, content, focus, etc.–there is no right or wrong way to blog. As I shared in a breakout room discussion, the only way to blog “incorrectly” is to stress about the blogging. My philosophy is that if it’s not enjoyable, why bother?
Image by Christel SAGNIEZ from Pixabay
For instance, I happen to (among many other things) enjoy goats. They never fail to bring a smile. So this right here? This is an example of a successful blog post.
July 30, 2019
From parched and cracked soil
a leafy bouquet erupts
now sharing the trail
Last night I was reading ECHO MOUNTAIN by Lauren Wolk, basking in her gorgeous prose, when I felt a pang about my work-in-progress that isn’t progressing very quickly. I set down the book and closed my eyes. And then it came to me. I reached for my project notebook and wrote:
This is what I think needs to happen if I am to finish this book.
I must let myself write WITHOUT checking facts & figures. Write this story as I feel it and know it and believe it. THEN I may check facts and figures, and revise accordingly.
Cooper’s Hawk out my window. January 22, 2021
I know, I know. Pretty basic insight. That doesn’t mean it’s not also liberating and kinda profound.
And now I’m off to write/revise without scurrying off in search of confirmation, validation, or procrastination.
Our lunch break area on the Rustler Gulch Trail, Crested Butte. July 26, 2018
April 27, 2020
Writing is an amazing place to hide, to go into the rabbit hole, and pull the trap door down over your head. ~ Ann Patchett
Note: I didn’t have any rabbit hole photos so opted for this hole in the neighbor’s crab apple tree that hosted a pair of chickadees last spring. (Photos by Zippy)
I miss the bees and am looking forward to when they return to perform their vital work in my yard. Here’s a little sample of what’s in store for the coming months:
August 4, 2020
Yesterday (March 7!), Zippy removed the lights from the locust tree in our front yard. We’d stopped turning them on several weeks ago but left them wrapped around the trunk. I could lie and say it was because the bulbs provided bits of much-needed color in the brown/gray landscape. Really, it’s because we procrastinate. Either way, now that the holiday lights are gone, I’m ready for spring. Bring on the bees and blooms!
I realize this photo seems artfully arranged: dog napping in patch of sunshine with dead geranium leaf angled above nose and the hint of a geranium bloom beyond Emma’s nostrils. Nope.
November 20, 2020
We’re just not good about sweeping up around here.
Dappled morning light
playing up the scrub jay’s blues
colors and feelings
Out my window. March 5, 2021
It’s a gray day here and the high will be 23 degrees colder than yesterday.
Purple Coneflowers. July 16, 2020
I’m beneath a blanket on the couch, reading Bryan Stevenson’s JUST MERCY: A Story of Justice and Redemption. It began as research for my work-in-progress, but I’m grateful my project brought me to this book. It’s fierce and tender, all at once. Both rage-inducing and strangely calming** in its depiction of humanity at its worst and best.
Change is possible. Spring is on its way. And today, I am grateful for both those truths.
(** ETA when I wrote about the calming aspect of this book, I was in opening chapters. Having read for much of day, I have to admit there’s more content that enrages rather than soothes. We are a messed up and deeply racist society.)
Photo by Zippy. July 30, 2019
Tracy Abell 