The View from the Hermitage, Day 288

How to avoid not writing until 7:00 in the evening? Write at 1:30 in the afternoon. Last night, I tempted readers with mention of an exploding coffee carafe. When Son #1's company closed their local office, Son #1, one of two local staff members, had to empty the office of  everything. Son #1 ended up with two coffee makers. We thought there might be a problem with our coffee maker, so Son #1 brought the two extra ones out. The Mr. Coffee was missing its carafe, and the handle on the thermal Krup carafe was broken. The Professor never gets rid of anything he thinks he might be able to fix and decided to try to repair the handle using epoxy. He got everything glued and taped into place and set the carafe aside. A while later, there was a rather loud explosion. Even with a hearing aid for one ear, I cannot localize sound, but I thought the explosion came from the kitchen. So did The Professor who was at the kitchen sink washing some dishes. My first thought was the microwave, but we hadn't been using it. No explosion there, nor was there one apparent anywhere. There were a number of gunshots outside, probably hunters breaking in their new guns, but the explosion seemed too loud to be from outside. Oh well. 

The next morning, while  Son #1 and I were out with The Family Dog, The Professor decided to check the repair on the handle of the carafe. When he unscrewed the lid to which the handle was attached, a mist of glass crystals followed the rising lid. The glass lining of the carafe had exploded. My theory is that the repair may have locked the lid tighter than it should have been, letting pressure build up, and boom! Do not try this at home, but it was an explosion worth hearing. 

In The Guardian this morning, the UK's leading psychiatrist called the novel coronavirus the "greatest  threat to mental health since the second world was." Its impact will be felt for years, and will include the time it takes to readjust once the virus is under control. The virus has also changed the social support networks of many people; those, too, will require time in which to readjust. The Washington Post this morning ran "Dreading and dreaming of returning to the office." More readjustment, especially for those who have embraced working from home. Having worked at home for most of what passed for my career, I can say that one does get a lot more work done without the coworker who stops by your desk to pass some time on her way to the ladies'.

The Guardian also contained an article on the "Trump era in 32 words and phrases." I agree with some of them more than others, and they left out two I would have included: covfefe and rino (Republican in name only). Some of the ones they got dead-on: alternative facts, American carnage, America first. bigly, Never Trumper, witch-hunt. And how dare I fail to include Javanka?

On a very different note, if you liked Spam, how would you feel about meat-free Spam? It's getting to be thing in Asia. I think I bought Spam once to show The Sons what I'd meant when I described my mom's serving Spam pizza. I don't think we artit once I'd opened the can, but I might be repressing the fact that we did.

And on another different note, scientists have discovered a new species of snake. Where did they find it? In the University of Kansas' Biodiversity Institute's collection of preserved specimens. One has never been photographed alive. In case you were worried, scientists say it is unlikely to be venomous. 

If you have the interest and time, I highly recommend an upcoming issue of The New Yorker on "The Plague Years." It lays out three moments that the US missed in the early days of the novel coronavirus, one in January, one in February, and one in March. Had any one of them not been missed, we could be in a much better place today than we are. Hindsight is always 20-20. Parts may raise your blood pressure, and you may not want to read it all in one sitting, but it is worth reading.

This morning I cancelled a medical appointment I had scheduled for next Monday. It was to check the abutment screwed into my skull and into which my hearing aid fits. The appointment was supposed to be in October but got moved to January due to the doc's schedule. I figured I could move it due to mine. I told them I would call to schedule something after I'd been vaccinated. Forty-one weeks into being a hermit, I am not going to risk even one brief exposure. That's why I'm not getting my hair cut so that it will no longer fall to cover my eyes. I give it about six more weeks until it's long enough to stay behind my ears. 

Will New Year's Eve and Day feel any different given that we're bidding adieu to a year like no other and hoping against hope that the coming one is less surprising or surprising in a positive way? As I typed that, I did think that any year is like no other. We carry each passing year with us as we felt it--the highs, the lows, the lost opportunities, and the found treasures. We each have different years of our own making. As for the coming year, it will be what it will  be.