Presence, Security

This Is Not a Drill

September 17, 2022

More irreplaceables made their way to my car trunk this week. Raggedy Ann and Andy were my Mom’s.

Maybe one day you will be at the grocery store, your first trip there in a week or so, because you were out of town on an adventure with your college-aged daughter. You will be at the store and one of your neighbors will send a text that there is a fire in your town, just off the freeway.

It’s hard to know what to do at that moment.

How big of a fire? A little one like the ones that happen on the freeway fairly regularly that they knock down in a few minutes? A big one like the Mosquito Fire that broke out last week across the ridge, not so far from you as the crow flies, that has already burned more than 70,000 acres and destroyed more than 70 homes? Thousands of people are still evacuated from that one.  You see their campers and trailers all around town: at the Rec Park, behind the Bell Road Baptist church, next to the freeway in little makeshift camps.

So then.

What to do?

You look at the people around you who are shopping like everything is normal, like it was for you thirty seconds ago, and you feel a little light-headed.

You want to tell the lady wheeling her cart around you, because you are blocking the aisle, that there is a fire in your town that just started and you would appreciate it if she would freak out with you, as a show of solidarity.

It’s good that you already packed the trunk of your car with mementos that you would never want to lose. They are out there right now, safe in the Grocery Outlet parking lot.

Except then you start to remember some of the things that are still at home, things that are not in the car trunk. Like the darn Go Bags that live at home instead of in the car.

Also, your laptop.

The realization of this is a punch in the gut.

Most days, you bring it with you, because you never know when you might have a chance to write a little.

Not today. It’s on the kitchen table. Because you were just going to town to do one massage and then a little grocery shopping and then head home, where you have not been for more than a week.

Continue Reading…

Security

Darn Covid

September 5, 2022

The good news: the FDA recently extended the expiration dates on all the tests they sent us a few months ago. They still work! The bad news:  Covid is still affecting so much of life these days. And people are still dying.

(What is this? A blog that posts on a day other than Saturday?

Why yes. Yes it is.
My Grumpy and Grateful Labor Day update.)

My daughter and I were set to embark on an adventure tomorrow, a trip that we’ve planned for months.

Two of her roommates just tested positive for Covid.

Bother.

So far? She feels fine and is testing negative. But now there are so many unknowns! Will she continue to test negative? Will she test negative until we are on our trip and then test positive when we are away from home? What would we do then? Should I spend all day packing and getting ready for the trip, or should I wait and see how she feels later on today? At some point, I’m going to have to pack. Packing is one of my least favorite parts of going on a trip.

Here’s a grateful thing: The FDA extended the expiration dates on the 12 at-home Covid tests that have been living in my medicine cabinet. They look like they are expired, but actually, they are still good! So if we do go on our trip, we can test and test and test some more along the way, especially as our adventure draws to a close and we have to reenter real life again and be around people we love who have agreed to pick us up from the airport but who have immunocompromised folks in their lives.

Our current plan: let’s act as if everything is going to work out fine.  So that means packing, and taking my plants up to the neighbor’s so they will not suffer from a closed up house and record high heat when I am gone. Have her test tonight (Monday). Hope that the test is still negative. Have her test tomorrow morning before I get on a plane and head her way. Hope (again) that the test is negative. Although, if she is going to test positive, tomorrow morning would be a great time to do it, so I can cancel all the things, including my Southwest flights. But if all is well? Book a hotel room close to the airport and have her stay with me Tuesday night, abandoning my frugal-self’s initial plan to spend the night on her apartment’s couch, because. Well. Two of her roommates have Covid. Test Wednesday morning at the hotel, and if all is well, head out on our trip. Continue to test daily while on the road. Continue to wear masks to protect people around us.

If she tests positive after I fly to LA?

That’s the worst case scenario. All I could do would be to change my return flight and figure out a way to get home, as best as I can. And wear an N-95 mask for forever or at least the next 10 days.

It’s another layer of difficulty for life now, along with these record breaking high temperatures and fire weather watch days.  It makes it hard to plan anything that gets you out of the house, out into the world, which is where I find so much life, but not worth it if it could potentially expose others to Covid.

I had planned to post a rerun blog for this week’s entry (have to keep the weekly posting streak alive), and write my Sunday letter today, telling my mailing list friends that I was traveling, didn’t have internet access, and would check in next week with a report of our adventures. Instead, I’ll post this today and will wait and see what happens. If you don’t hear anything else from me, then my daughter continued to test negative for Covid, and I have no internet, and all is well. If you do hear from me, it probably means that we had to cancel our trip and I will have a few things to grump about in my Sunday letter.

(Don’t get my Sunday letter? There’s a handy sign up form on the “About Robin” part of my website. Would love to have you join me there.)

I still believe that all things work together for good somehow. And if this trip doesn’t happen, it wasn’t meant to be. Who knows why? But it’s something I try to trust. Will keep you posted. This is a developing story.