Dwarf Planet in Purple

This morning I did another covid test and I am still positive. So no Laydes Fayre singing practice for me tonight. Just as well; I listened to a video of last Sunday's church service and had trouble singing along to the hymns. I would NOT have been able to harmonize.

Covid isn't killing me (if it was, I would have been in the hospital for all of February so far). I have a nagging cough and an occasional nose drip. No fever. No extreme fatigue, either -- I took a walk around the neighborhood this afternoon, for at least a mile.

I wish I could go to Bright Hills Baronial Birthday tomorrow for Mistress Janina's "Laurel-versary," but I don't dare spread my cooties.

First of all, I honor the anniversary of my mother's passing, 27 years ago tonight.

Now about the heading of this entry. At church on Sunday I stayed after the service to rehearse a hymn for next Sunday's MLK Jr. service. I kept my mask on while singing, but not everyone was masked. Late yesterday afternoon I received an email from our minister -- who tries not to work on Monday, her personal sabbath -- stating that if we stayed for the singing practice, we were probably exposed to covid. She sent it out BCC, so I'm pretty sure I know who the other recipients were but I don't know whose name was left off (and was thus the person who exposed the rest of us). So now I feel like a pariah. I skipped last night's dance practice out of an abundance of caution, and during tomorrow's errands I will certainly wear a mask. I need to find a non-expired covid test before Friday so that I can determine whether I can do anything this weekend (singing practice, Maugorn's birthday, church...).

Today my self-isolation was a no-brainer because a "winter" storm is blowing through. I put "winter" in quotes because the weather is not cold enough for water to freeze, so we're just having lots of rain and wind gusts. Fortunately, we still have power here in the little cottage, which is just outside the Pepco area in BGE's turf.

I tested negative for covid-19 several days after Balticon and have felt fine ever since.

The weekend after Balticon, I spent a Sunday at AwesomeCon, the commercial "comic con" for Our Nation's Capital. My barony had set up a booth in the exhibit hall to attract new people, and my role in the proceedings was to teach dancing for an hour. Patches, who knows much more about teaching dances than I do, had been drilling me on the ins and outs for more than a month. Something like 70 or 75 people showed up to learn an alman, a couple of English country dances and a few bransles. Thank goodness the room was equipped with a speaker that I could plug into my phone. I had brought along my friend's battery-powered speaker, but I think the carpeting and clothing would have muffled it up completely.

After AwesomeCon, I turned my attention to church stuff. Because we would be holding our annual congregational meeting virtually for the third straight year, I volunteered to run the electronic voting. So I signed up for an account on ElectionBuddy and performed test after test to try to get everything right. I think it turned out OK; some people said they didn't get their ballots, which had ended up in their spam folders, but that's to be expected. I let out a giant sigh of relief after sending out the official ballots and turned my brain off by taking a nap on the couch.

A few weeks ago, I learned that my former partner in the Lithuanian dance group back in 2016 had died. He went by the nickname Vyts (pronounced "veets") and had really badly bowed legs and was a terrible dancer. Plus, he said he had been divorced three times, and I couldn't help feeling that he was auditioning me as a possible wife #4. (The boy toy called him my "Lithuanian boyfriend.") I saw him at the Lithuanian Hall from time to time -- the last time in April when I went up there for a dancing event. (I am not dancing anymore -- I was just in the audience.) He looked as if he'd had surgery on his legs because they were straighter. I didn't have much to say, because I know from his Facebook posts that his political views were entirely opposite mine ... bleah. Still, it was a bit of a shock to learn that he had dropped dead at the age of 65, almost 66. Apparently he really was a big supporter of the Lithuanian community in Baltimore.

I know I'm rambling here, but I can't let June 17 end without noting that today is the 50th anniversary of the one day I went to school on a Saturday. The school board in my hometown could not end the academic year on Friday the 16th, because we would have been one day short of the state regulations. The teachers strongly preferred getting the school year over with on a Saturday rather than Monday, so that's what we did. (Not that we ever did any learning on the last day of the school year. It was always like "watch a movie, then get your report card.") And that's how seventh grade ended.

My strongest memory of the day is that someone let off a stink bomb in the playground crowd just before we were allowed into the building, and our assistant principal, Mr. R., stood on the steps of the main doors and shouted, "I see who you are! You're in trouble now!" That stentorian voice of his could silence hundreds of tweens and teens like nothing else before or since. We tiptoed around his massive bulk and crept to our homerooms.

And there was a giant disruption in the Force in the form of the Watergate break-in, and nothing was ever the same again....

Hey, it's about time. Five things make a post.

1. Yesterday was the 25th anniversary of my dear mother's passing. I remember my parents' 25th wedding anniversary -- red roses, silver-colored gifts, firecrackers and Roman candles. There are no such general symbols for a death anniversary. I volunteered to light the chalice during yesterday's Sunday service (on Zoom). It seemed the best way to honor her.

2. Saturday I ventured out to the local town cinema -- first time to a movie theater in almost two years! -- to see the new West Side Story on the wide screen. It was every bit a visual feast as you would expect from the pairing of one of the all-time great director-cinematographer teams, plus the music was exquisite. I have loved this music since I danced to "I Feel Pretty" in my preschool ballet class. No matter what you might think of the plot or the general artificiality of a movie (or staged) musical, you have to admit that the music is some of the most sublime ever written. I'm so sorry this film is now considered a "box-office bomb."

3. I have been spending money like crazy. New eyeglasses (first since the summer of 2013), vet exam and blood/urine tests for Julia (who is now a senior kitty), new muffler and tailpipe for the noisy car. Whew. Hard come, easy go.

4. I am SO. INCREDIBLY. TIRED. of this covid-19 pandemic. None of the organizations to which I belong can meet in person this month because of the omicron surge. Atlantia is "shut down" until January 21; Storvik is taking the entire month of January off. Church is soldiering on with Zoom meetings. Same with Toastmasters. People are fed up with virtual this and online that. My local science writers' group had its second online holiday gala last month and attendance was barely two dozen instead of the usual 150 or so. No wonder people drive like entitled maniacs and treat strangers so poorly when they do manage to leave their hidey-holes. We are all losing social capital.

5. Just now, as I was writing the above, I heard a crash in the condo. The little wooden shelf in the dining room fell off the wall. It's the little wooden shelf I gave Mom for her 75th birthday. Is it a sign??

Over and out....

Happy Earth Day Number 51! Honestly, last year's 50th anniversary Earth Day commemoration was shortchanged because the covid-19 pandemic was still so new. Glad to see a bit more awareness of the day this year.

My apologies for not updating for a while. I've made more posts and comments on Facebook lately.

On Tuesday the 20th I got my second Pfizer vaccination at the mass-vax site at Six Flags America. The process seemed to go even faster the second time around (maybe the National Guard shortened the path that takes cars on a grand tour of the parking lot?). After I got home, I took a nap after lunch. By the end of the evening A&S gathering via Zoom, I was feeling a little cranky and headachy and dozed off on the couch in front off the TV. Yesterday my main symptom was a bruise-like pain around the injection site, even though no bruising was visible. Today that arm pain is almost all gone.

Recently there were a couple of major announcements about events scheduled to take place later in 2021. The Worldcon/Discon committee announced that the convention will be held in December at the Omni Shoreham Hotel in DC. (Originally, the Omni Shoreham was supposed to be the "overflow" hotel, secondary to the Marriott Wardman Park one block up the hill, but the Wardman Park closed permanently.) Then the Pennsic War staff announced that Pennsic 49 will be moved from 2021 to 2022 because of the covid plague.

Thoughtful readers may be thinking, "Gee, this is the second year in a row that Pennsic will not be held. That must suck for the people who own the site where Pennsic takes place!" Well, yes, I'm sure it does. That's why Cooper's Lake Campground, our Pennsic hosts, quickly announced a non-SCA "medieval-style" event called Armistice around the same time as Pennsic would have taken place. The idea is to have a medieval-style camping event with merchants and parties but NOTHING sponsored by the SCA. I have no idea how this is supposed to work. Some people seem enthusiastic -- "Yeah! This will be a nice, laid-back event like the Pennsics of old!" Other people are pessimistic -- "Giant superspreader event!" Personally, I would worry that an event without SCA sponsorship would attract certain folks who were kicked out of the SCA for bullying people (or worse) and who would try to take over the event for their own purposes. Or perhaps those rune-loving white supremacists who would have a torchlight parade while screaming their vile slogans

Ugh. Not sure what to do. I'm very much tempted to stay home in July/August and save up my meager funds for War of the Wings in October, which will double as Atlantia's (rescheduled) 40th birthday. Since I was at Atlantia's 30th birthday weekend, it would be nice to go to the 40th as well. Plus, it would give us more time to tamp down the coronavirus, especially as residents of rural areas seem to be less inclined to wear masks and get vaccinated.

Over and out.

(Yeah, I know I don't usually make two posts in one day anymore, but I thought this one deserved its own entry.)

Today I got my first covid-19 vaccine!!! I have been eligible for only a week and I have my first of the two Pfizer shots. Whew!

Thanks to the state vaccine portal, I went to Six Flags America to get vaccinated. I thought everything was pretty well organized, although I was amazed at the vast quantity of the orange traffic cones used to snake cars around the parking lots. (So glad I did not have to pay $25 for the privilege of viewing the parking lots. Gaaaah, theme parks are SO expensive these days.) As CNN's Sanjay Gupta observed when getting one of the very first Pfizer shots on live TV, the vaccine is administered through such a fine-gauge needle that it hurts less than the annual flu shot. If I didn't watch out of the corner of my eye, I wouldn't have even noticed the shot!

Twelve hours later, I seem to be having no reaction whatsoever. I'm getting tired, but that's due to the hour, not the vaccine.

I dedicate this vaccine to Master Liam St. Liam, who would have turned 62 tomorrow if not for this plague, and for other friends who have lost family members.

Over and out.

Well, I take too *many* breaks. I have a feature-article deadline on Monday. I hate having untreated and exacerbated ADHD, inattentive type.

Just wanted to let you all know that I still exist.

I have received my notice that on Election Day I will be a same-day-registration judge at the local high school. But it didn't say who the chief judges will be. Usually the chief judges arrange a session the night before so that we can all meet each other and set up the polling booths and equipment. I have never even been inside the local high school and I don't even know where the front door is. The facade on the side of the main road through town has virtually no windows and doors.

Still worrying about the future, politically speaking. Please, please, please let Joe Biden win! And please let's avoid a civil war started by the right-wing idiots!

I think it's stress that has made my athlete's foot flare up worse than it's ever been. I was spraying it and spraying it with a can of stuff I found in the back of the closet. It was getting only worse and finally I noticed that the bottom of the can said "MAY97" on it. Uh, I guess the active ingredient expired or something. Finally I got some cash today and the boy toy bought me a fresh can of antifungal stuff. One spritz and my feet are already feeling the relief.

I hope I helped someone today.

There's a young woman in Storvik (not trying to be condescending here, but I'm 60 and I think she's in her early 30s) who has done a lot of work for the Barony and Kingdom in the last few years, but has been saying lately (through Facebook) that she has been feeling poorly, though she didn't say exactly why. I didn't want to pry. Maybe she didn't know, either.

Today she made several posts stating that she has ME/CFS, which immediately got my attention. You see, I have a friend who used to be president of my local science writers' group, who used to write for the Washington Post, until ME/CFS disabled him. He moved to Hawaii, although he returned a few years ago to participate in an extensive study at NIH. He has the ear of people like Francis Collins (Tony Fauci's BOSS) and he married a woman who is also a ME/CFS sufferer and activist.

So I mentioned this to my Storvik friend, and she immediately PM'ed me back and said, oh, yes, PLEASE send her contact information to him. So I pinged him -- fortunately it was early afternoon here, so morning way over there -- and he said, sure, have her send me an email. So I wrote her back, and she thanked me profusely.

I hope they can help each other out. She says she has felt very alone, but she isn't, and in the aftermath of the current pandemic, she may have many other peers.

I am just the messenger here. The switchboard, as it were. I am not writing about this to honor myself -- I just want to remember that I tried to do something kind, so that someday when I am in a crummy mood, I can try to convince myself that I am not *totally* bad.

Anyhow, today was Major League Baseball's Opening Day! The Nationals hoisted the World Series Champion flag under a blue sky ... and then a line of thunderstorms rolled in and we had HUGE and FAST lightning, going off like fireworks and popcorn. So the game was called early with the Yankees winning. UGH.

Nice weather today, and apparently the cherry blossoms around the Tidal Basin are going to hit peak bloom by the end of the week. How are the authorities going to keep people away from the flowering trees? Should they do so?

Of course, the real question is how long this pandemic is going to last. Today Maryland postponed its primary election from April 28 to June 2. Great, so now I won't get my election-judge stipend for three full months. Not that it's a huge stipend -- $200 plus $50 for the training session -- but every bit of money is good. (And, seriously, will anyone bother going to the polls in Maryland in June? Already the outcome is pretty darned obvious.)

There are still some good things in the world. Today my cousin Dick's wife, Margaret, turned 70 years old. My Laurel friend in the Kingdom of Lochac sent me a PDF of a hard-to-find book. And tonight I watched a live, online Dropkick Murphys concert -- streamed from somewhere in Massachusetts -- with the boy toy in person and a bunch of SCA friends via a Facebook "watch party." So that was fun.

On Monday, Labor Day, I posted the following tribute on Facebook. I *meant* to copy it here too, but I got tired later in the day.

One hundred years ago TODAY, my Uncle Rene was born. Yes, my father and one of my uncles were born just four days apart in the same year. Uncle Rene was my *maternal* uncle, just so you're not totally confused.

Most people pronounce "Rene" as "reh-NAY," same as "Renee," but my family of French Canadian Americans always pronounced my uncle's name as "RAY-nee." At any rate, my Uncle Rene was the third of six children born to a couple of residents of a heavily French Canadian neighborhood in Fitchburg, Massachusetts.

Rene grew up to be the tallest of his siblings and was always a big high-strung. His hair stood up straight on top of his head, and he wore thick glasses. He left school after the eighth grade because by then it was the Depression. At some point he lost the tip of his right middle finger to some sort of tool or machine. He had only the tiniest stump of nail on that finger.

As you can see from the [Facebook] photo, Uncle Rene joined the service during World War II, but I don't think he stayed on the front lines long. My mother always said he had "shellshock." I think he was shipped home to recuperate. I have a little satin pillow that is printed with the words "For Mom from Fort Belvoir."

Rene never married or had kids, but lived with his mother (my grandmother) and took care of her as she aged. She signed the house over to him before she died, so he would always have a place to live. He worked as a janitor at Fitchburg State College (as Diane N*** [a former member of my church who attended Fitchburg State] can attest) until he retired.

My Dad and Uncle Rene were good friends and were in a bowling league together. One Sunday afternoon they scared my Mom -- they went down to the local airport and convinced someone to take them up on his small plane for a cruise around southern New Hampshire. Better to seek forgiveness afterward than to try to get permission beforehand....

By 1987 Uncle Rene and my mother were the last of their siblings left alive. They were the third and fourth kids in the family, and I think my mother was closer to him than to her other siblings. He died at age 79, and my Mom died four weeks later.

Happy 100th Birthday, Uncle Rene.

* * * * *

On Monday I had gotten up early to march in the Labor Day parade as a member (really, president) of the local Toastmasters Club. I should really start a DW/LJ tag for Toastmasters, as that's probably going to be a bigger part of my life for the rest of the "club year" (i.e., until next June 30). The town where I live was built as a New Deal project 80 years ago, so yeah, we love our Labor Day festivities. It's traditional for marchers to toss candy to the children on the sidelines, and some of them bring bags, almost like Halloween trick-or-treating.

This is the third year I marched in the parade with the Toastmasters. It's really quite fun, and it's not a lengthy parade at all. This year's event had a TON of entries for local politicians. The area is so heavily Democratic that next year's primary (I think it will be in June) is tantamount to election. So, yeah, everybody wanted to "press the flesh."

At the elementary school book sale at the Labor Day festival, I scored three books, including The Civilization of the Goddess by Marija Gimbutas -- list price $60 when it came out. I think I paid $8 for the three books and the reusable tote bag to carry them in. Deal!

At the parade I scored coupons for a free Mission BBQ sandwich and a free slice of Three Brothers pizza. So I think I came out even, more or less.

* * * * *

I was supposed to have a small surgical procedure today (to remove a small BENIGN lump), but the hospital arbitrarily rescheduled it to next Tuesday, without bothering to TELL me until I made inquiries late yesterday afternoon. *grumble*

I had explicitly made no commitments to anything for the coming weekend, because I figured I was going to spend the weekend loafing around and sleeping off the painkillers. Now, however, what to do? In addition, money is a bit tight again, since I paid off some crucial bills.

Although I've been invited to attend no less than three different SCA events in three different states, I think I'll stick closer to home this weekend. Maybe I'll catch up on some projects here. I really hadn't planned on going to an event until Battle on the Bay, which is the weekend of Sept. 22-24.

* * * * *

I haven't been in touch with Tall Dancer a lot lately, but he called twice this afternoon. Apparently he is on a long drive from Georgia to Tennessee for a small relax-a-con with friends. And he just got back from Florida to celebrate his grandmother's 95th birthday. I do hope his relatives are safe during Hurricane Irma.