The View from the Hermitage, Day 291

We interrupt this irregularly scheduled pandemic for a public service announcement on New Year's resolutions, past and present. I'm not even going to try to assess how I did on each and every one of last year's (2020) resolutions given that several were achieved under the influence of the novel coronavirus. Not using plastic straws in particular and using as few single-use plastic items as possible were almost too easy. Not eating out meant not having to refuse a plastic straw and draw out one of my personal metal ones. Much of my single-use plastic items were water bottles, and if I used any it was only a couple and likely on my February trip to Texas. One item on the list was "make good art." In my dreams maybe. I certainly did not foresee living in the basement guest room for six months, emptying and refilling the house in terms of "stuff." But enough of 2020; what did I come up with for 2021?

I had more trouble than usual coming up with ones for next year (2021). The ones for 2020 in retrospect seemed too nebulous or touchy-feely. When I started doing formal resolutions, I tried to make them quantitative, such as "work out so many days each week." Even after deciding to return to some quantitative degree, I struggled a bit. I've been in a bit of a funky mood the last day or two which may have been the reason. I found some notes I'd made on other occasions and came up with the following:

EACH MONTH:

1. Make a pie.
2. Use the Instant Pot.
3. Start, work on, or finish a "creative thing."
4. Donate or toss one banker's box of stuff.
5. Use Apple watch's monthly fitness goal or set one of my own.

AS LONG AS NECESSARY: Continue this blog until I'm fully vaccinated.

 

The pie one is a throwback to one Son #2 had one year, which was to "eat more pie." That same Son also gave me The Pie Almanac for Christmas, so I have a new reference from which to work. The Instant Pot one is an attempt to overcome my fear of it. I have only found a couple of recipes that are at the high level of detail I with which I feel comfortable. What is it they say? Do something every day that scares you. The third and fourth are somewhat self-explanatory. I wanted a resolution dealing with fitness but working out so many days a week doesn't seem to take into account the various aches, pains, and  injuries someone my age (64) might suffer. The Apple watch goal for January is to close all three fitness rings for seven days in a row. The rings are the watch's assessment of how many calories I burn, how long I work out, and how many hours in which I spend some small amount of time not sitting down.

 

Today has been one year since WHO first mentioned a mysterious pneumonia in China. As I understand it, there were docs and scientists who almost immediately started to work on sequencing the genome of the virus. That work made possible the type of vaccines so far approved for use in the US. Of course, not everyone views those vaccines positively. Supposedly, over half of Ohio's nursing home workers are refusing to be vaccinated. The Professor read news of someone removing vials of vaccine from cold storage so they would degrade and be unusable. Something like 500 doses spoiled, which is 500 people who will have to wait longer to get vaccinated. 

 

An Axios survey asked "Are you more hopeful or more fearful about what the year 2021 has in store for you personally?" Overall, 73 percent reported feeling more hopeful compared to 2 5 percent feeling more fearful. The percentages of Black, Asian, and Hispanic respondents feeling hopeful were all in the 80s, while only 70 percent of white respondents felt hopeful. The big split should not be surprising. Republicans were 52 percent hopeful and 47 percent fearful; Independents were 78 percent hopeful and 21 percent fearful; and Democrats were 91 percent hopeful and 8 percent fearful.

 

Every year about this time, the Associated Press has published their list of the top 10 stories of the year passing. This year they did not, instead citing 2020 itself as the story of the year. I cannot disagree with that rationale. 2020: the year that sucked.

 

Finally, I should start carrying my phone with me on the early morning walks with Son #1 and The Family Dog, The clouds to the east this morning had been daubed with pale red paint. Not the sky--red sky and night and so on--just the clouds. And several days ago, the moon seemed at its fullest as it sat almost right atop the horizon. I could have put that as a resolution, I guess, but if I start adding or editing, who knows what I might come up with.