adapting

Well the CDC threw us all into a panic last week, what with the abrupt changing of mask guidelines. We're really going to rely on the honor system, on the mask-shamers and covid-deniers and other froot loops to NOW be honest and do the right thing?

Sure.

A downtown barbershop took immediate action with the above poster.. A Thai street food restaurant posted a picture of Biggie Smalls wearing a mask.

What are still not fully vaccinated folks like myself to do? I mulled this over for a couple of days, checked the news and social media, decided to avoid Trader Joe's (allowing vax-ed folk in sans-mask) and keep any in-store appearances as brief as possible. So I wrote a grocery list, and hustled into my local Kroger early this morning.

This being the 206, everyone was well-distanced and be-masked, although the usual jabroni, mask drooping below his nostrils, was roaming around. $50 later, I made it in and out in less than 15 minutes, hands sanitized and lugging two bags of groceries.

I'm looking forward to some judicious bare-faced cavorting sometime soon, don't get me wrong. But privately, and only among trusted comrades. 

me and the birbs vs squirrel

I've ventured into the world of wild bird feeders, now that the salmonella issue seems to have receded.

The most intriguing part is watching the evolving pecking order in the back yard. I've moved the feeder around a few times, since my initial set up was waaaay too squirrel-friendly. The very first day, I sat on a work call and watched a fat rodent, bushy tail switching, scarf down half the contents of the feeder.

Little birds with a nest in an old vent in the building next door swooped down from time to time, either to grab a snack or try to chase away bigger blue birds. The blue birds are loud and snippy, and sometimes fly close to the feeder to try and knock extra stuff out of it, that they then retrieve off the ground.

A crow has stopped by on occasion, much too big but still optimistic about scraps. And a reddish bird, but it wasn't very interested and flew off after just a moment or two. I even saw a bunny back there one morning.

My second attempt to re-hang the feeder deterred the squirrel for only a few tries. I laughed until I wept, watching it scramble from branch to branch, reaching and stretching and contorting and finally--success.

My most recent attempt seems so far to be squirrel proof. It comes by several times a day to re-investigate the feeder placement, try to find new branches to lean in from, falling and scrambling and sitting, glaring, tail twitching. Thus far, I'm victorious.

it must be said

 From the area formerly known as CHOP.

taking care of each other

As much as I gripe about how badly we're all behaving and don't get me wrong, some of us are (looking at YOU and YOU and YOU), even amid the grossness there are pockets of joy and caring.

I noticed today that the coffee shop owner had been closed for 2 weekends in a row. This is the person who told me how to get signed up for a vaccine, who taught herself to roast coffee beans and bake Vollkorn bread to sell and slips me extra treats with my Americano and always makes me laugh. So I texted, just to be sure all was OK.

Turns out the vaccine dose #2 kicked her and her helper's butts. They were down and out but hoping to be back soon, she said, adding, take care of yourself and we'll all get through this!

So I walked to another cafe, 2 blocks away. At this shop, an older man, in dirty pants and limping slowly, was making his way inside, hand trembling, for a refill. Mike has hung around this shop for as long as I can remember so I gave him some room. The barista got him in and out, kindly but briskly. I thought back to a rainy day last winter when he wanted a refill and the shop was busy and at least three of us standing outside in line offered to buy him coffee. When I got inside, the owner, bemused, said it was all taken care of. Mike lives in transitional housing and is fully vaccinated so while it's not the life I would want for myself, he's in as good a shape as he can be.

thanks motivational yard sign

 

one down one to go

I'm happy to report that I successfully achieved vaccine shot#1 a few days ago.

The setting was pedestrian in all senses: I walked to the appointment (about 80 minutes from my place), to a tiny pharmacy in a big impersonal grocery store. The waiting area was basically the aisleway between the store's self-check and the entrance doors, and about a dozen of us stood around, jammed up, masked and anxious, waiting in one line to check in, then aimlessly milling, waiting for our  names to be called. It was a nerve-wracking 40 minutes of standing too close, feeling light-headed, seeing a friend and swapping distant hello's, and then finally, hearing my name and heading in for the jab.

It's a big day, I said to the pharmacy technician, as she swabbed my arm with alcohol.

She chuckled. Do you have any questions?

Where to begin? The news is nothing but vaccines and masks and fury. My mind emptied of all coherent thought. Just don't let me see the needle, I said.

She said It's all over now, and I nodded, making sure to pick up my packet and vaccine card on the way out. 

After more than a year of waiting, this is finally a positive step towards--something. Seeing my fella for longer than twenty minutes. Towards seeing my family maskless, indoors, relaxed. Towards concerts and friend hangouts and catching-up drinks. For the fam in Canada, unfortunately, the wait will be longer.

boona boona

I've been waiting for a new coffee shop to open in town. Boona Boona is located in an old Cherry Street Espresso (rip) and the owner is of Eritrean descent. After spending time in Tanzania and Ethiopia, and especially enjoying the coffee roasting ceremony in Debre Birhan, I am solidly a fan of east African coffee.

Not to mention, buna is the Amharic word (ቡና) for coffee! 

Yesterday I ordered the Africano (aka Americano) and it was as robust and beany as I'd hoped.

The imagery on the cup and their merch reminds me of the iconic art you see near the rock-hewn churches in Lalibela, in northern Ethiopia. 

Now I'm thinking about the coffee at Tamoca in Addis Ababa. One day soon we will be able to safely travel again. I can't wait.