Reminiscing First Week of Shut Down

         Last night Richard was approached by an unhoused woman who said she had not eaten for two days and would he be able to help her out.  We did happen to have some leftover food in the car.  He gave her the part we hadn’t eaten and she went on her way.  She reminded me of the unhoused woman mentioned at the end of this post.  One week into the pandemic and not all people were certain of how serious it was.  Masks and social distancing were not yet enforced everywhere. 

Jaime and I could hear the homeless woman singing and Jaime decided to join her and made a tiktok video of the two of them singing “This is Me” from The Greatest Showman. I remember how Jaime looked at her as an equal and had not passed any judgement.  I knew she was standing too close for Carol’s liking. We had met up with her a day or two later (here) and had driven in separate cars. Jaime showed her the video the next day.  I think it made Carol nervous.

As careless as we had all been none of my household members ever got sick with COVID.  Carol, on the other hand, believes she got it.  She’d venture out of the house to make a small purchase – such as cat food and toilet paper and there were certain places that she started boycotting because of not enforcing “people protection”.  I remember many feeling that way and others the opposite.  Some people still won’t support those that enforced the mask and social distancing and so forth.  Some people are in denial and still believe it was all a hoax.

It’s Backwards – Welcome to My Laundry Room

               Often when we have been out walking Bonnie we will generally walk the same four streets.  Occasionally, we will allow her to lead.  She likes to go up where the new houses are being built.  Some are stick houses and some are manufactured – like this one.  

          It was in the street for a while as the equipment that was supposed to move it went out of commission – I don’t remember how long it had been in the street before it was moved – unfortunately with the front facing the backside (maybe a yard though that part doesn’t appear to be promising right now) and the backside facing the street.   

          It is understandable why they did it that way.  Not totally, but the mistake may have been in the awning.  After all there is an arch over the backdoor and two lamps at what should be the front.  Big windows – living room.  That is where the front door should lead, right?  But all that is visible to the neighbors below – not that either view is rather spectacular.  The home owner has a view of houses either way.  No checking out the living room window to see who might be in the driveway though.

          The way the house sets right now may have one saying, “Welcome to my house.  Here is the laundry room – right next to the door – just in case you would like to remove your clothes and come into the kitchen . . .”

          Roland and I had actually looked at a house that was closer to the high school.  It was turned around so that we had entered the back – oh, and there are my appliances right next to the door.  Hello.  Oh, if it’s spaciousness you want, continue to the back of the house which is really the front.  You will have a view of a rock from your living room.  What the heck?  Roland didn’t want to move there because the house was backwards.  I didn’t want to move there because of the shared driveway.  That can get annoying when the neighbors seem to have more vehicles than drivers.

          I think all housing came to a halt when it snowed followed by rain. There have been several popping up and mailboxes going in.  Thus far the mailboxes haven’t been assigned numbers. Further up the road is an unfinished stick house.  The roof had been outlined but not completed.  Must have been murder on those building the house, but from mine and Jenna’s point of view it appeared as a gingerbread house the way the snow covered the beams. 

          Weather has warmed up enough for the crew to fix the damage and continue with their work.  But I still think the other house should be turned around.

Health, Happiness and Approximate Conversation

          Just before we got in the car to come home from church, Jenna had asked me what was wrong.  Evidently, I was wearing an expression of sadness or despair.  Perhaps I should not use quotes as I don't fully remember the conversation, but I'm going to use quotations anyway.  This is only an approximation.

          Jenna (playfully joking):  "Are you sad because you don't have choir practice?"

          Me (sarcastically;  keep in mind that I DO NOT have a great singing voice and would rather eat than practice):  "Oh, yes.  That must be it" 

          Jenna: "What's wrong?"

          At that exact moment in time, I was dreading money spent wastefully - but I don't wish to share my thoughts with her because I know she'll feel bad, and my fourteen-year-old shouldn't be concerned over family finances the way that I am.  Not that what I shared with her was any better - in fact, it was probably worse.

          "Oh, dad and I were watching program this morning about health and happiness in the workplace.  Dad has never been happy about this job that he has currently.  I think that's why he's been sick for so long. 

          "This morning's program interviewed a man who had a job that paid good money but he was not happy.  He quit his job to become a fireman which he loves, but he isn't even making a third of what he did.  But he is happier.  We're always making sacrifices.  Dad does his job to support us.  And now he has a boss who evidently attended the school of Hitler management and feels like he is walking on eggshells all of the time.  I think that's why he's been sick for so long.  He just can't seem to shake it.

          "My health has been so much better in Oregon than it was in Salt Lake.  I have been so much happier overall.  I don't feel as much stress.  But if we have to move again so dad can get his business started, I will be the one who is sick.  Accounting doesn't make me happy.  I don't want to be part of a business.  So either he is going to be sick or I am.

          "And I just learned another great Uncle has passed away this month.  He had dementia when he passed.  Uncle Ned had dementia too.  And my grandma may have had a touch of it after she was admitted to the hospital for the last time.  She had asked dad and me to take her home, but she didn't even know who we were."

          Jenna and I were both crying.  My mom had dementia.  Perhaps it's hereditary.  I'm 15-20 years younger than mom had been when she was diagnosed, but this "goldfish memory" thing seems to be more frequent.  It's highly probable that I'll get dementia also.

          There is only one traffic light downtown and another in Tri-City.  We were at the second light when I realized what the most recent "trigger" took place.  It hadn't anything to do with our current spending or our health. 

         

          "I hate primary," I said.  I have been in the primary for over 40 years of my life and I'm tired of it.  I'm tired of practicing for the annual program.  I really don't mind teaching, but I am tired of babysitting the children who don't wish to be there or just have no concept of why they're there.

          "I'm going to be stuck in primary forever!  The only way a person can ever get released from a calling is by developing a love for it so much that he/she doesn't want to be released.  That is when they get released.  That is how it works.  I am going to be stuck in primary forever because I don't love it.  On the plus side, I will never be called to be the Relief Society president."

          Jenna laughed.

          "No, I am serious.  I can't be in the primary and Relief Society at the same time." 

          Just before we reached our driveway, I shared another reason to be sad.  I think I'm allergic to chocolate.  And I LOVE chocolate.  I love chocolate more than I hate primary.  How awful and sad to love something that may not love you back.