Improbable Covid-19 side effects

I have been suffering for the 2nd Spring in a row with a condition which is unlikely to befall a person of my type: post middle age, poor fitness level, photo-phobic, allergic to bug bites and pollen, plus bone lazy. That condition: a new found willingness to "see to the yard". It started in 2017 when I purchased a corded electric mower (not self powered). 

Since then I have been keeping my ECO lawn trimmed-ish, and my front yard's deliberately planted areas weed free-ish. The front yard is somewhat hazardous to the tippy footed, but holding onto the mower has kept me upright. Since taking this on I have had my first ever wasp sting, and numerous mosquito bites which swell to look like new volcanoes emerging in a strangely pale field. ONE bite alone drives me mad.

But the condition has worsened to where I am now trimming bushes and trees and last year declared war on front yard darn-delions. They first appeared in FEBRUARY this year, which is just wrong. Hence, I do a near daily sweep (twice today) for new signs of yellow. For now I am just extracting, either with my upstanding weed extractor, or my hand held weed "fork" for areas either too rocky or too  rooty to use the fun tool. Later I will spot treat the ones whose roots I can't remove.

And this year I have discovered some enthusiasm for keeping the back yard darn-delion/moss experimental farm from overtaking the house. My back yard is aggressively rooted by two too large maple trees. I love the shade (on west side) as does the moss (which I quite like) and as does the yellow headed scourge. I decided to "kill" the weeds and nascent blackberry vines on the north side and then cover it with black plastic to rob it of sunlight. I found a roll of black plastic on Amazon which was 25' by 10' which was perfect for my 25' by 5' bit of yard. So today I rolled it out over the hellscape and pinned it down with 6' pins like tiny wickets. After laying the plastic down I could no longer tell where the exposed roots and rocks were, so it was a tippy process during which I fell once. It does not look professionally laid, but I am unreasonably proud of my accomplishment.

Tomorrow I Casseron the south yard to discourage weeds that grow readily in the gravel path. I am shooting for a dry application followed by a nature provided watering in on Sunday. 

This is not the real me. But next week I have an appt. with my psychologist who should be able to get me sorted. I have been alone with my demons since my last visit in mid September 2020, and I  fear that left unchecked this trajectory could lead to a serious yard-tending condition.

Southern accent related post

 This thought arose from the interesting (to me) WaPo article by Tracy Moore: https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2021/03/16/how-covid-19-gave-me-back-my-southern-accent/?arc404=true 

Here I will briefly recount the months I spent (not so much lived) in Houston (Feb-Aug) a few years into my marriage. While there I managed to get a job during tax season (which my brilliance pushed past April 15th) at a CPA firm with two born and bred male Texan owners. All other employees were older (than me in my 20's) women. What was most notable to me in the entire span of my employment was how my interview went.

I was sent by an employment agency who apparently paid little attention to my skill set and/or their client's requirements. They sent me for a job as typist in the reception area with principle phone duties. First: I did not represent myself as a typist of any sort and Second: I clearly lack the accent to communicate well on the phone with Texans. I was unaware of this, as I had applied as a tax preparer and bookkeeper which I had done in Denver. 

Upon arrival, I was escorted to a typewriter for a speed/accuracy test. I could have passed a 10-Key test, but nooooooo. I typed ineptly, and upon "completion" angrily said I thought this was a preparer position which is what I sought via the (clueless, useless) agency. They left me there to (as I found out later) consult an owner about someone they might want to look at. Hence, I was taken to an office with two youngish Texans who I could (just) understand having context, faces and gestures to help.

The questioning included: was I married, do I have children, what does my husband do, are we planning a family, and then they got more on topic. I was able to outline my tax experience (1 season at H&R Block) and bookkeeping experience (at a multi-state uniform retailer). I think I probably did well enough, together with my resume, which had only education and 3 jobs listed. The next item was not so much a question as a policy announcement: I would be expected to wear a bra. I can assure you I have TO THIS DAY never gone to a workplace as an employee with the girls UN-corraled. Then (and this is what the above article sparked a memory of) one of them asked the other: Do you think she will hunt?

Bizarrely, they hired me and were sad to see me bail on Texas and them so soon. I then brought my "Oregon II" photo book by Ray Atkeson when the wondered at my destination selection. They said these photos were not accurate (suggesting a born Oregonian could be such a fool). I did not push my point as why would I encourage any Texan to venture to another state, least of all Oregon? They should stay right there so they can leave the US when Texas does what it keeps threatening.

In the course of this employment I occasionally had to take the phone during lunch (it was rotated among all the employees (i.e.women). After my first sweaty and fraught turn, I was informed that an irate client wanted to know what a "damn Yankee was doing answering their phone?" I admit that I was finding it every bit as difficult and undesirable to attempt telephonic connection with a traitorous southerner.

Here is a photo of me, taken in Portland in the late 70's before the Texas debacle. With bra and in a beloved shirt.

P.S. At the time I had no way to challenge the non-job related questions. Had I done so, I am sure I would not have been hired. In the end, it was sort of my husband who necessitated (Allowed!) the move. We were there because he was told it would be a job in Houston. And about 5 months in they admitted that all they had was offshore pre-drilling boat riding off the Arabian Peninsula coast (I forget which NO WAY country it was.) Neither of us wanted that, and he was willing to try Oregon having decided that nothing good was going to come of his BS in Geology anyway. As it didn't until I divorced him, he want back to Colorado, and managed to get a teaching job at a small college in Sedona AZ.

Covid immunization update

Yesterday morning I had my first Pfizer shot at LCC. It went VERY smoothly - and why not? It was deeply staffed, clearly signed, very very organized and time efficient. This part of the getting shots into arms is working well for folks with personal transportation. It is likely only limited by vaccine supply.

I admit to being confused by Oregon's choice of adding additional eligible cohorts before nearing completion of the earlier ones. My "stylist" is a young woman I followed around various salons until she found better gigs. She has been cutting my hair at my house for MANY years now - perhaps decades. Her mother lives independently in Eugene and has not yet been given an invitation, and I heard from several other 70+ folks in my swim class that they too are waiting. I am sure there is no ill intent behind the perplexing process of selection. And no evidence of this level of craven purchase of access:  https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2021/03/04/florida-keys-desantis-vaccine-donation/

But I am left with one niggling question: are they secretly testing the efficacy of Covid vaccinations by having a placebo group? It is standard best practice required for FDA approval, which I was reminded this shot does not have in the literature provided yesterday. It reiterated this 4 times over six pages and twice stated that it is in an ONGOING clinical trial. I think I got a placebo. I have had no noticeable symptoms of having received something that is generally expected to make it's presence known to the recipient. My arm was briefly sore in the evening and so far today I am symptom free (except perhaps for being more susceptible to flirting with a conspiracy world view).

And one final affront (or likely the only one in this post): There is an amazing tool (v-safe) which is available to anyone WITH A SMART PHONE. This is getting out of hand. Albertsons  has some weekly specials which are Digital. 

Disclaimer: This is why I keep blogging. It is a constant struggle for me to not see the encroachment of virtual into physical life as a threat. Sometimes it is harmless and sometimes it seems just silly (eg: internet connected microwave -REALLY). I am hyper sensitive to when it might be exclusive to only digital believers. But I want my blogs to be as accurate as possible (unless inaccuracy is funnier and harmless). Hence I searched for the proof that the DIGITAL COUPONS are not accepted as paper coupons. Apparently they are (FOR NOW). And I registered on v-safe via my home computer and gave them my dumb cell phone number. This is a test of inclusivity. Consider yourself warned, CDC!

The many pleasures of being a female are being sorely tried

I have lived in my current home since 2007. Until recently (due to Covid induced  boredom) I have begun tackling home organization, cleaning and "repairing" around the home like a willing but not quite competent husband. It started with the garage. This will strain credulity, but I have been a disorganized garager. But the aggravation of having a 3 deep stack of bins and wanting the bottom one got the ball rolling. After a look on line I decided that I would gift Jerry's with my purchase power. I bought a HEAVY set of shelves (2' deep, 4' wide and 6' tall, with press-board shelves) to house my storage containers. Of course I needed my strong boyfriend to help me assemble this: some fun and no injuries were had. This looked so good that I embarked on sweeping the floor and walls. With some commodious storage available I was able to rationalize things putting like with like (eg: one shelf has folding chairs and tables and outdoor cooking items. Another shelf accommodates what I hope will once again be collection of the few plastics still possible to recycle in Eugene. This involves separation by type and size. Hence a devoted shelf!

Side note: I made use the shelf at 6 f' elevation by storing clean packing supplies (Amazon brown paper, bubble wrap and thin foam sheets) in a bin which I can tip up without a ladder. Also, empty boxes which I accumulate until they overwhelm and I then offload on Craig's list as free clean moving supplies. Near the end of any month, they disappear from my porch within hours of posting.

On the same wall, I corralled everything devoted to yard care (except the mower) so that a job I do not particularly relish, is quicker and easier to gear up for and get done. There is a bit more to do here, but efficiency is at a level 9. 

The other side wall is for bulky items (recycling and garbage rollers) and stacked comfortable chairs and foot stools awaiting spring's arrival. Also, this year I cleaned the fabric umbrella after being inspired by a You Tube video. I have had THAT since 2006 and have only "swept" off occasionally (every 5 years or so, but much less than needed). Due to it's extreme embedded filth, I opted to pre clean it some using Krud Kutter which is excellent. That silly woman on YT removes hers (more than one!) at LEAST annually and pops them in the washing machine. Ultimately I braved that step (cherishing my WM and fearing harm). Two runs through using some soap and some more KK resulted in a big improvement. Plenty good enough for me, whose standards for outside stuff is about half that of inside. 

Ok, enough of the self congratulatory smugness. Here is the source of my gender disappoint: I could not unscrew my front hose as it was used by roof cleaners who tightened it beyond reason. This was my potential solution to the earlier problem, also hose based, where in something is on one end of my back yard hose which I cannot remove, but also cannot tighten so it won't leak badly. I have no idea when or how that was added to my back yard hose. I suspect the Y chromosome was involved. And I discover these two problems fatal to my window cleaning plans. I have also never cleaned my outside windows - I count on the rain for that. I was all gowned up (dressed, wearing rubber boots and rubber gloves) and equipped with hose attachments, window "mop", squeegee, and cleaning supplies from house and garage. Hence my rage which I have just blogged out while drinking (ok, pop).

An ongoing saga Part 2

I have decided that the best way for me to document my experience with the NEW! home occult fecal test (I think Dave Barry would suggest that is an excellent name for a rock band). Yesterday I made it all the way through the instructions and immediately hit a snag: I cannot get the screw on lid of the "poop receptacle" unscrewed. Of course I enjoy weakening grip strength (from an unimpressive previous level), but I have tools and tricks which enable me to open almost anything. But not this thing which I was warned against straining my hand in the process opening. The lid which is apparently tightly sealed against any unintended breach by a random poop is impregnable. Oy. Also, as the turn around time from poop to testing site shall not be longer than 72 hours rules out any Monday holiday involvement: Hello President's Day! Hence, my 2! excellent options today could not be deposited to begin a journey to the mother ship. More hijinks to follow, but likely not until Feb. 16th which I pray will be also "fruitful"........

I left a note for Scott (neighbor to the N.) that I desperately needed someone to open the holy of holies, which of course I did not word thusly. After some struggle (making me feel better), I offered him my gripper solution which is a strip of no slip RV cupboard liner. Huzzah! I am now going to report to the mother ship what it took to gain access, and confirm what the nearest good day is for me to attempt completion. In addition, I will note there is a fabric like square which I first surmised might be a no slip grip provider, but sadly no. And in all the 29 pages of excruciating detailed instructions (see note below), there is NO mention of this item.

...........End of previous posting

Early on a cold President's Day 2021 I successfully made a personal contribution to my health into a plastic bucket suspended under my toilet seat. Without getting too graphic, I can happily report that my sample was of impressive girth, which should provide the desired "scraping" of possible cancerous cells from the lining of the colon.

As instructed, I have placed it on my porch for a stealth pickup by UPS sometime before 8pm. I plan to be home all day, so I can keep a wary eye out for "porch shoppers". I can assure you that should someone take this package, their disappointment will far exceed mine. I will be issued a second test, or get a regular one from an OMG lab. I have plenty more where that came from!

In summary: While the first time involved a lot of written and telephonic communication, the collection is easier and neater. I sure hope I FAILED this test! I would take this test again over the one where you awkwardly pain your feces on cards. In addition to this, I agreed to be included in their user survey which will follow up on results and subsequent actions taken, if any. I thought it my duty as a "competent" senior to be a part of the entire enterprise of delving into our excretory system. I have a FEW serious quibbles with the process they like to do every 5 to 10 years, or upon "passing" this test. 

A Leap of Faith

I have a cousin whose partner has been heroically battling colon cancer for over 20 years! She was initially given a grim probable survival statistic, but she stepped up to everything thrown at her (several surgeries, radiation treatments, and too many rounds of Chemo for me to believe. She REALLY wants to stay here.

At the risk of sounding fatalistic, I do not know how much I would endure to extend my life. You never know until you are faced with the hard choice. Lots of obituaries laud long fights against cancer, but I would suggest that we should also praise the courage to accept a grim diagnosis as simply the manner in which you will be shown the inevitable door.

Note: There is a small container of liquid labeled "Preservative" which the instructions say on page 22 tell you to open this and pour all of it into the "holy" stool container and to NOT drink it. Folks potentially that daft have no business being active participants  their own health care.

Health related topics (for fellow "mature" folks)

Euphemisms for OLD tend to annoy me. While I do not Feel Old mentally or emotionally, at times my physicality offers a counter version. Also, I must admit so does my mind, as when I lose track of what I am saying AS I SAY IT. However, I am reluctant to ascribe this solely to an accumulation of birthdays. In fact my memory has never been something to brag about or depend on for accuracy and/or completeness. Yes, it has lost ground it didn't have to lose. But I digress (the chief purpose of my blog, duh).

Euphemisms for OLD can grate, or amuse. I am mightily amused when my Pot Store of Preference applies my "Wisdom Discount". The first time I asked if they had a senior discount (which sadly no one now questions my probable qualification for) I laughed in their faces, and suggested that this is not dependably applicable to this age cohort (being heavy Trump voters in 2016). End of rant.

New rant: Annual Occult Fecal Tests. I have a problematic history with colonoscopies. I have prepped for two, failed the first time to even begin to clear (even after additional disgusting steps) and the second time was not clear by their standards. However they relented when I warned THIS IS THE VERY LAST TIME IT IS AVAILABLE. They tested, they could not be sure, but I was done.

Hence, the annual take home test. It (as you likely know) is messy, off-putting, and likely misses the point. So I was amenable to a new-ish option of collecting and submitting an entire deposit, the better to catch anything problematical. I am well aware that should they find anything of concern they will insist on the test I have forsworn. But I am delightfully illogical at times.

I am in in possession of this "improved" kit. It's parts are pictured here. The included instruction manual is 29 pages long (English part) but is in large print with lots of pictures! I am gratified that my new Physician judged me capable of higher level, multi step, cognitive capability and sufficient physical dexterity. 

I have not yet read it through (I like to savor the growing excitement) and also have already flushed today's offering. Plan on getting an update upon completion of this daunting participation in my own health!

I am gradually improving

I am revisiting life in my body. My lifelong approach to stress could not possibly serve me worse. I pull into my shell, hide from life, use food as friend and comfort, and resist dealing with being a physical entity. I was losing emotional resilience and fitness while gaining weight even before the Covid depredations to the little structure in my life. It was my two scheduled fitness activities (pool class and personal training) that kept my spirit from complete despair. In addition to the mechanics of needing to "gear up" for these activities, (by which I mean getting sufficiently and appropriately dressed) it gave me someone(s) to interact with. I knew the social aspect was frosting, but failed to see that it contained almost all the nutrition too!

The puppy on the walk.

Before I knew when either of those activities might restart I got more engaged with home activities such as cleaning and putting away outdoor living items, changing out light bulbs and cleaning outdoor fixtures, tidying and cleaning up the garage, and making better use of in home storage. These may sound minor and insufficient to normally functioning folks, but it is rarely visited territory for this natural sloth.

And then, almost as if I primed the pump, I got an invitation back to the gym and my trainer!. Oh happy day. I have been just twice now, but already I am resisting less having salad for lunch. Also, I joined another friend for a little walk with her two dogs and was surprised it felt good, not painful (the walking part).

Here's my current approach to improving my diet: actually eating two regular meals a day - shooting for three! Bit by bit, choosing better although not documenting and quantifying the results. It is more like pushing out wrong choices with good ones. Also, I have not started a weekly weigh-in, as I have in past weight loss periods. I just want to pay attention to staying more active and improving food choices. For now my attention is on how much less anxious, annoyed, and disconnected I feel.