Back in the Desert

I am extremely happy. 

Part of the malaise of COVID is the inactivity, and the fear that one will never be able to do things again.  I guess I needed to show myself that I could be my usual decisive self.  And I did.  First of all, I actually retired.  It finally seemed like the right thing to do.  I will be 75 years old this year, and will shortly have been at the organization for 25 years.  It seemed like the numbers were aligning in my favour.  Then, there were considerable changes in law and policy, and in COVID world, without meetings and available colleagues, it was too much like work to try to assimilate them, particularly since the amount of work I have been getting makes it hardly seem worth the effort.  So, I retired as of February 1.  The boss rewarded me with the nicest going away letter I have seen in my 25 years, so even without an official sendoff, I felt valued - more than I have in a long time, actually...

And then I decided to go down to the Desert, in a better-late-than-never bid for some warmth and sunshine, and, more importantly, to get the COVID vaccine.  It is readily available to anyone my age, whereas the lack of vaccine in Canada would mean I likely wouldn't get vaccinated until July, at the earliest.  The trip from Vancouver to Palm Springs is one that I have done many, many times before; nonetheless, it took some doing to overcome the above-mentioned malaise and put all the moving parts together.  

I am here to tell you that it can be done.  I got the plane reservation.  I got everyone organized to take care of outstanding matters in Vancouver.  I got John on board to drive me to the airport in Vancouver, and my Palm Springs John to pick me up at the other end.  I got the required COVID test scheduled within 48 hours of departure.  And the trip was smooth sailing (so to speak) all the way.  Nonetheless, by the time I got to Palm Springs, I was exhausted; I could barely speak.  Overstimulation, maybe - I saw more people on the one day of travel than I have in 11 months!!!

I can't tell you how happy I am to be here.  I got the first vaccine within 4 days of my arrival, and have a scheduled date for the second.  The sun is shining and it is warm.  The pools in my complex are open.  And because everyone I know has had one or both shots, there is more comfort seeing one another - on patios, because it is warm enough to sit on them, and with masks and distancing, but still.....

As you can see, I am back walking, but instead of walking the hallways of my building, I am in the great outdoors.

More pictures and raves later.  But just in case, in the rush to get away I forgot to call and say I was leaving, I wanted to let you all know that I am alive and very, very well.

OMG

I can't believe I let the day go by, not only without ceremony, but without even noticing.  David died 15 years ago yesterday, February 6, 2006.  Those of you who know me know that every year on that date, and on his birthday, December 9, I have dinner with my husband.  Every year, it is the same dinner, prime rib and bourbon, David's two favourite food groups.

Maybe it is the lack of calendars in my life in these days of COVID.  But the day went by.  I am mortified

Back to the new normal

 Lots of ups and downs.  When last we spoke, I was feeling poopy.  Better today, for no particularly good reason.  But I find being - well, poopy (I can't even call it depressed, really) - boring, and I have a low tolerance level for boredom.  So I try to get out of that downward spiral before it wears a groove in my brain so deep that I can't get it out.  

Books first.  I think I already mentioned War, by Margaret McMillan, a Canadian historian.  Not any earth shattering revelations, but a good review of how wars have been conducted through the ages, and how war shapes society and society shapes war.  She is a good writer, and is one of those I would read whether I was interested in the topic or not.  Next up was Identity, by Francis Fukuyama, who I would call a social historian.  Here, he writes about a topic close to my heart, the rise of identity politics, which, with the best of intentions, has ended up dividing us rather than uniting us.  I highly recommend it for those who are looking for the causes of the rise of the rabid underclass.  

On a completely different topic, Shakespeare in a Divided America, by James Shapiro (author of The Year of Lear and dozens of other books about Shakespeare.  The subtitle is "What his plays tell us about our past and our future", and that about sums it up.  I am a sucker for anything Shakespeare, and this was really fascinating.  I really didn't know about most of the historical incidents involving Shakespeare in America, and will probably never look at Julius Caesar or Coriolanus the same way again.  

Another very pleasant surprise was The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller.  It was a retelling of the story of Achilles, from the more personal vantage point of Petrocolus, his lover, and I was totally rapt from beginning to end.  

Have I already mentioned The Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon, by Alexander McCall Smith?  It is one of his lovely, gentle books in the Ladies #1 Detective Agency series, and has not changed my opinion that I will read everything he writes.

Finally, I have just started reading (technically speaking, listening to), Too Much and Never Enough, by Mary L Trump, Donald's niece.  She clearly loathes him, but the writing (and reading - it is being read by the author) is quite unemotional, written like the clinical psychologist she is.  It provides a grounding as to where this dysfunctional  man comes from.  Once again, I am rapt.

So, worry not, my friends.  I have once again escaped from the clutches of depression through the time-honoured vehicle of books.