The View from the Hermitage, Day 289

Remember from a day or two ago that one in every thousand Americans has died of covid-19? Here's another one for you: one out of 17 Americans has tested positive for covid-19. I know I do know 17 Americans, and since my mom tested positive, that's my one. Coming up with another 17 might be dicey. There's a reason I haven't really minded hermitting: I am more than a bit introverted. 

Continuing with news of the novel coronavirus, new figures released by the Chinese Center for Disease Control reveal that the infection rate in Wuhan could have been 10 times higher than the official figure. Not to be outdone, Russia has admitted that their covid-19 death toll is more than triple the official number. Are they trying to keep up with or outdo us (the US) when it comes to covid numbers? They have a ways to go.

Finally, almost 1.3 million people passed through airports on Sunday, suggesting that Dr. Fauci's prediction of a surge upon a surge may indeed come to pass. Perhaps I should be thankful that neither I nor The Professor come from a family so tightly knit that holidays cannot be passed in nuclear family pods.

Moving on from the pandemic, someone in the business organization named for The Lame Duck has conceded that he will not, in fact, be inaugurated for a second term. The Washington, DC International Hotel bearing the surname of The Lame Duck has released the rooms it was holding for January 16-20, presumably for Duck supporters to attend the inauguration. 

The week between Christmas and New Year's Day is always a slow one, but it seems especially slow this year. In several years, this has been the week in which The Professor and I journeyed to the north--Iceland or Norway--in search of the Northern Lights. Last year's visit to Newport News, Virginia, in search of its downtown was an aberration, but one planned because we would be traveling to three of the 'Stans in May. This year, neither Iceland nor Norway would be particularly welcoming, and even Canada is out of the question. (One year we do plan to search for the aurora in Yellowknife in Canada's Northwest Territories.)

I have been thinking about those pesky New Year's resolutions I always make. I never seem to get very far with many of them, though I am still doing the first one I consciously set some decades ago, which is to put the laundry away every night. Interesting how that keeps piles of folded clothes from multiplying in one's bedroom space. For many years, I set goals for working out a certain number of days each year. I think I succeeded at all of those, but when I think of such resolutions now, my aging joints remind me of just how old they are. I am, fingers crossed, about to make it through 2020 without major joint surgery. My major joints and even-numbered years share a history. In 2014, I had my torn right rotator cuff and labrum fixed. In 2016, it was the same on my left side. In 2018,  I had my right knee replaced. I vowed then that the left knee was not to be done in 2020. Treating my right knee the way they advised me to after the replacement has taken strain off the left knee. It hurts less now than it did before the replacement.

I did start on a new creative venture last night, though I have no idea what it will end up being. Several years ago, The Professor gave me a set of kimono pockets obtained from Kyoto Kimono. A friend who went to her brother's wedding in Japan send me some silk pieces she bought there. The pockets were in most cases pieces sewn together with an opening, probably why they were called "pockets." I'm ripping the seams and making them all flat pieces, some of one fabric but most of two. I have a general idea what I might do with them, but I want to get them all flattened before I decide for sure.  I expect I'll be back on this topic before the pandemic ends, so enlightenment may await.

The View from the Hermitage, Day 110

As life things have turned out, I shall have the chance to be even more of a hermit later this month. It turns out that we will not be able to live in the basement while the hardwood floors upstairs are refinished. Not wanting to look for a hotel that would accept the family dog and cat, and not wanting to board them, we inquired of younger son and his spouse-equivalent whether we could use their cabin for a week. They live in Richmond City, but own 155 acres north of the city on which currently sits a simple two-bedroom house or cabin. They of course said yes, because that's what families do. It's not clear exactly which week we'll be doing this, maybe the week of the 20th or the next week.

It turns out that using the Internet at the cabin requires driving out to the main road and down it about a mile to a church parking lot. That's also the closest spot at which it's possible to get a cellular signal. If the husband needs Internet access for something major, he can drive back here (it's less than two hours driving) and stay with older son. I expect I will spend much of the day we come back here deleting superfluous emails and otherwise tying up digital loose ends. To be safe, I guess we should plan that one of us will drive to the church every evening just to check for any near or other emergency messages.

Needless to say, I have already created a pile of creative things to take with me. There will, after all, be lots of time that needs filling. A couple of needle felting kits I've neglected. Some fabric ink plus t-shirts and a canvas bag that need embellishing. My new small loom and some yarn that needs weaving. A book to finish and a couple more to start. I will, of course, take too many things, but that is definitely better than not taking enough and having to drive into civilization to buy things I don't really need.

The final plus side of this is that we may not need to rent a pod in which to store our furniture. If we will not be living in the basement, there's a hell of a lot of space down there. We can shift things and get half of the garage empty for things such as a long couch that will not make the curve to go down the stairs to the basement.

Meanwhile, the number of covid-19 cases in Virginia creeps back up. And who knows what this long weekend might spawn. Setting Virginia aside for a moment, I cannot imagine what it must be like to live in a state such as Arizona, Florida, South Carolina, or Texas. I expect my anxiety would be somewhere through the roof and in the clouds even were I hermitting as seriously as possible. No matter what I read or learned, I would likely feel as if virus seeds were wafting in the air all around me just waiting to slip in.

They took three more Confederate statues down in Richmond yesterday. One was of Matthew Fontaine Maury, known as "pathfinder of the seas." Naval ROTC at the University of Virginia resides in Maury Hall; I wonder how long it will be before the powers that be rename that building. The other two statues were cannons erected at the request of the Confederate Memorial Literary Society. The inscription beneath one is "This cannon marks the location of the second line of the Confederate defenses of Richmond." The inscription beneath the other notes that it commemorates "the spot where in 1861 a large earthwork of the inner line of defense was constructed." Upon hearing those inscriptions, older son and the husband suggested that the cannons might have been left there with a line added to each inscription noting that those defenses did not hold. The Confederacy lost. As one of the advisors of HWSNBN noted, history is written by the winners.

Combining the novel coronavirus with the current wave of demonstrations, an article I read yesterday suggested that the demonstrations did not contribute to the surge in covid-19 cases. I find that hard to believe. Evidently, the Memorial Day gatherings did contribute to the surge. If so, I expect that the July 4 gatherings tonight and tomorrow will contribute to their own surges. Lots to look forward to this month.

Speaking of July 4 gatherings, older son has endured nightly fireworks barrages set off by his neighbors. He noted that he's not sure what fireworks they might be planning for the weekend, but yesterday watched as a porta-a-potty was delivered to their yard.

The View from the Hermitage, Day 82

Older son says that he read the CDC is concerned that, in the wake of the demonstrations, people are forgetting the novel coronavirus. I don't doubt that they are. I actually had to scan the front page of this morning's Washington Post to see where there might be some news of the virus. It may well be, though, that the mass demonstrations that have been occurring nightly for over a week, not to mention the even larger one planned for Washington, DC tomorrow, will bring on a second wave of covid-19 cases. The virus will bump the demonstrations off the front page just as the demonstrations have, for now, bumped the virus onto some inner page(s).

I have mentioned the devil bag. It could use some fine tuning aka tightening of most of the belts to get rid of the holes, but for now it is done. I got a rigid heddle loom for Christmas last year and have finally gotten around to learning to use it. I'm still climbing the hill that is the weaving learning curve. I was perusing the book Time to Weave, and came across the directions for a container made using bias plaited weaving. I've seen these done in paper or the skins of juice boxes, and thought of using my collection of random martial arts belts to make one. This was a good idea only in the sense of stretching myself and giving me practice with the art of patience. Using flexible strips of fabric rather than stiffer pieces of paper made the whole thing multiple times harder.

I started out trying to be too creative with the belts arranged such that there no belt touched another of the same color. Much frustration and profanity later, I took everything apart and started over. The weaving is done using groups of four belts, so I arranged the belts into easily recognizable groups of four. It still took several sessions (I would quit when to continue would have damaged the work-in-progress or myself), and finishing the top took even longer. But I did it. I expect that it will be filled with skeins of yarn when I unpack my yarn stash after the floors have been done.

I just heard from my sister (by other parents) in Maine that He Who Shall Not Be Named is today visiting a plant there that makes swabs for covid-19 testing. She notes that "when the President arrives at the facility, he will not do what EVERY OTHER PERSON WHO ENTERS THE FACILITY MUST DO: don a smock, hairnet, booties, and mask. As a result, every swab produced during the visit will have to be incinerated." It's all about him. Yes, the people who work in that plant deserve to be thanked and their work, applauded. But to then make them throw out however many hundreds or thousands of swabs they make while he is there just belittles their efforts. 

But in smile-worthy news, Muriel Bowser, mayor of Washington, DC, had the street in front of the White House emblazoned with "Black Lives Matter" in bright yellow paint. She also invoked the third amendment to get the National Guard out of the city. The little-known third amendment says that troops cannot be housed in private residences or facilities. In other words, the Guard should not be staying in hotels in the city. Mayor Bowser rocks!

As for the huge demonstration planned for DC tomorrow, let's hope it is not too interesting.