To borrow a phrase from the late great Congressman John R. Lewis, I hope to get into “good trouble” for this post.
In 1963, John Phillips woke his wife Michelle in the middle of the night to tell her about a song idea. Michelle wanted to go back to sleep, but John encouraged her to get up and help him write the song. She wrote the second verse, and two years later they’d record it with Cass Elliot and Denny Doherty. John, Michelle, Cass, and Denny were The Mamas and the Papas, and the song was California Dreamin’. It was a huge hit.
I’m old enough to remember when that song was new. And now, 55 years later, I’ve taken the liberty of rewriting John and Michelle’s iconic lyrics with a new message for 2020. I’ve even recorded it in Garage Band, added video with iMovie, and posted the song, I’m November Dreamin’, on YouTube.
You can experience the entire project (including three-part harmony, artwork that I found on Pixabay.com, and video of me rapping) here. Or just search YouTube for “I’m November Dreamin’. The title is unique, so far.
I’m no Mama Cass – I can’t sing as well as any of the Mamas OR the Papas – but I suppose I might qualify as The Grandma. I might, in fact, be the oldest rapper on YouTube.
I’m not here to toot my own horn. The whole purpose of the video (and this post) is to get Americans riled up enough to vote in November (for the alternative to “you know who”). So, if you like the video, I’d really appreciate it if you’d share it far and wide. And of course, I’d love to get your likes and comments here, and on YouTube.
Just in case you’d like to sing along with me, here are the lyrics to I’m November Dreamin’:
All the leaves are green
and the sky is blue
I’m hopin’ for a change,
somethin’ we can do.
I’ll be feelin’ better
when this administration’s through.
I’m November dreamin’
‘bout electin’ someone new …
I’m gonna vote by mail,
maybe you are too,
or you can go and stand in line
where they will welcome you.
Ya know it’s time to make a difference,
Defeat old you-know-who.
I’m November dreamin’
‘bout electin’ someone new!
This isn’t a game, and what’s even stranger is
he’s deranged. Oh yeah, he’s dangerous.
He won’t take blame, he lies and he’s lazy.
Get him outta D.C. ... the guy is crazy!
Puts kids in cages, but then he’s liable
to brag about his brain while holdin’ a Bible!
He insulted McCain, but he’s always rootin’
for his pals like Stone and Vladimir Putin!
Don’t want more of the same? Then ya gotta be a chooser.
You all know his name, let’s make him a loser.
He appeals to his base … aww … they must be trippin’,
It was a tight race, and now he’s slippin'. But
NO! This is NOT the time to relax.
Let’s give it what we’ve got up to the max.
It’s our only shot! Don’t sit around and gloat.
We’ve gotta vote!
All the leaves are green
and the sky is blue.
We’ve got a racist in the White House,
doesn’t have a clue.
It’s really time for an eviction
at Pennsylvania Avenue.
I’m November dreamin’
‘bout electin’ someone new,
‘bout electin’ someone blue,
and I hope that you are too!
As you may know from my previous post (“My First Pandemic Birthday”), I recently adopted a dog, Maya. She’s a sweet little terrier mix. All was going smoothly until a week ago, when her behavior changed. I’m hoping you can provide some “pointers” (no pun intended) on how I can help her out of her funk.
But first, here’s Maya:
Note: As a school psychologist who’s worked with children with ADHD, PTSD, ODD, OCD, FAS, SLD, and a multitude of other acronyms, I’m finding that my little RD (rescue doggie) is the most challenging of all. But that’s probably just because I’ve never received training in “Getting a Dog Out From Under Your Bed,” or “Getting a Dog to Stop Running Away When You Make Eye Contact.”
I think it’s important to fill you in on Maya’s history, so here’s the scoop (again, no pun intended!):
April, 2020: As a recently-retired single person coping with life during the COVID-19 pandemic, I thought it might be smart (and therapeutic) to adopt a dog. I could provide a loving home, and in return I’d gain a companion. I registered with an animal shelter and met a few dogs, but they were either too big, too aggressive, or already spoken for.
May, 2020: I saw a story on the local news, described as a “hoarding case.” The owner loved her animals but felt overwhelmed and called the shelter seeking help. It’s no wonder. There were 40 dogs and 3 cats. Their coats were all severely matted. (I saw a video of them being removed from the home and then groomed at the shelter. The house was later condemned.) The dogs were said to be sweet and well-behaved, but a little shy.
June, 2020: The Humane Society called me. They had a dog from the “hoarding case” that they thought might be a good match for me. I made an appointment to see her.
July, 2020: When we first met, she was shaking like a leaf, but soon she jumped up on the couch next to me and extended her paw, pulling my hand toward her as if asking to be petted. She even licked my hand. From that moment, we were bonded. Or so it seemed.
The shelter said she was 6 years old and weighed 12 pounds. They’d spayed her, pulled some teeth, chipped her, and given her all her shots. They didn’t know her real name, so I renamed her “Maya,” which means “love,” “water,” “mother,” “courage,” or “illusion,” depending on which language you’re referencing. Besides, I’ve always liked Maya Angelou.
As soon as we got home, Maya jumped on the couch and seemed to be settling in. She started following me around and was very affectionate. She wanted to jump on my bed but she couldn’t quite reach it. I decided to see if she’d sleep on her own bed on the floor instead. I folded up a quilt and a blanket and put them down on the floor of my room. She didn’t want to sleep on it, but when I moved it right next to my bed, she immediately curled up on it and fell asleep.
That first night, she woke me up at 3:00 a.m. and I took her out. Then she woke me up at 5:30 a.m. and I took her out. After that, I decided to try getting her on my schedule. The next time she asked to go out in the middle of the night, I just said “no, lay down,” and she immediately did so! She was very well behaved and I guessed she’d been trained pretty well before her former owner had become overrun with other pets.
Then I made her a little “pen” in the bathroom area using a dog gate. I tried putting her in there whenever I had to leave the apartment for short trips to the store, but when I’d return, I’d hear her barking. I decided to switch her “pen” to my bedroom, but now I worry that she’ll chew electrical cords while I’m out, so I have to unplug everything each time I leave.
I took her for her first vet visit and she had a clean bill of health. For the first couple of weeks, things seemed to be just about perfect. Each time I sat on the couch, she’d come over and snuggle up next to me. She asked to go out about 3 times a day. Each time, she was obedient on her walk and even seemed to understand when I said “time to go home.” I did notice that she slept a lot during the day, though. She seemed to be nocturnal, getting a bit frisky at night and wanting to go out around 7 p.m. and again around 10 p.m. instead of during the daylight hours. I thought maybe it was due to the intense daytime temperatures we’re experiencing right now. And she was not the least bit interested in playing with toys. But other than those few idiosyncracies (which I attributed to her being a rescue dog), she seemed to be adjusting well to her new home.
About a week ago: Things suddenly changed. She started hiding under my bed and staying there all day, only coming out around 7 p.m. when she was ready to go outside, even though I’d offer her food at 7:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m., shaking her bowl so she could hear the sound. When she does eat, she has an appetite, and her stools are normal; she does not seem sick. She has lots of energy at night. Things improved a bit for a day or two, but now she’s back to being very withdrawn. In fact, yesterday, she stayed under my bed, or on the floor next to it, for a full 24 hours! I wonder if she’s depressed, and maybe missing her former brothers and sisters.
Things I’ve tried: Closing the door to my bedroom so she can’t go in it (when I can get there before she does, which is rare) – that just makes her cry. Luring her out with treats (bananas, peanut butter, real chicken, hot-dog-like treats, Milk Bones) – it worked for a while until she got wise to my tricks. Now she just sniffs them from afar, stares at me, and runs back under the bed. Gently pushing big objects under the bed to coax her out – she just moves over.
Last night: When she finally came out from hiding at 10 p.m., she let me put her leash on, went outside, did her business, and then was very affectionate when we came back in, cuddling up next to me on the couch as usual.
Today: But this morning, as soon as I made eye contact with her and reached down to pet her, she ducked under the bed and has been there all day again. I decided to try to gently encourage her to join me in the living room by moving her bed out there. I even made a trail of Milk Bone treats leading from my room to the living room, but she hasn’t even come out to snatch one. I don’t believe I should force her out of her “cave” until she’s learned to trust me more.
Does anyone have any experience with pets like Maya, and do you have any suggestions for me? Thanks in advance if you have any advice!
Yesterday was my birthday – the first one (and hopefully the last) that I’ll have spent during a worldwide pandemic. And to honor the occasion (and also, to stop myself from obsessively checking Facebook for Happy Birthday greetings), I wrote a poem about how my day was going.
But first, I just have to show you some adorable monkeys.
Okay, now the poem:
My First Pandemic Birthday
It’s my first pandemic birthday
And it’s really no big deal
I’m thankful for the greetings
I’m feeling all the feels
Most people did remember
And if you forgot, that’s okay
But at least you didn’t send me
That cremation offer I got today.
Yes, I walked out to the mailbox
Expecting a card or two
Instead I got an election flyer
And junk mail out the wazoo.
But that offer for cremation
Was the icing on the cake
So I threw it in the garbage.
It was just too much to take.
When I returned from that errand,
I discovered I had a gift —
My new doggie who’d been hiding
Had left me something that I whiffed.
But she’s been the perfect canine
Well, up until today
I won’t hold one mistake against her
But I hope there aren’t more on the way.
Now it’s time to plan my evening.
I think I’ll make a special meal.
Cooking can be good therapy
For emotions I’m trying to heal.
I’m making my mother’s recipe
For Uncle Frank’s spaghetti sauce
And for dessert, I’ll eat a scone or two
Then we’ll see who’s boss.
Me or the corona virus?
Just which one will it be?
I think I can beat that bugger
Cuz I’ve got a mask or three.
And soon I will be Zooming
With some Tucson friends of mine —
I’m already getting ready.
I’ve opened a bottle of wine.
Photo credits: Chairs by ParentRap; Monkeys by Chiplanay (both on Pixabay).
Do you have a muse? Someone or something that inspires you to create? I guess I do, because it seems that every time I decide to post a photograph, I end up writing. Take today, for example.
I sat here at my desk with the intention of posting a photo of a hummingbird, one I’d seen while out for a walk yesterday. I usually write a few words to go with my photos, so I wondered what I could say about this one.
Before I had a chance to start typing, though, I heard a voice (my muse?) telling me what to write.
“Write a poem,” the voice said.
“About what?” I asked.
“Well, what are you thinking about right now? What are you feeling?”
“Well, duh,” I said. “I’m thinking about the pandemic, what else is there to think about?”
“Okay, but are you sure you want to write about something so intense? Maybe just write a poem about a bird.”
“I have to write about what’s on my mind,” I countered. “Maybe I can work the little bird into the poem somehow.”
“Alright” the voice said, “it’s your blog. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You see, I’d been lying on the sofa today, feeling a sense of unfocused inertia. I’ve been feeling that way on and off for the last couple of days. Have you been feeling that way, too?
For the past month, I’ve been busy doing things like working from home, writing, making masks, talking to friends, figuring out how to safely get food, and, of course, watching Netflix. I’m not a total nerd. But I’ve also been glued to the news, and that’s okay, because I want to know what’s going on. I think it’s important that we stay on top of things. But sometimes I try to do too much, and then it seems as if my brain just shuts down and all I can do is crossword puzzles. And that’s okay, too.
Anyway, I was feeling very foggy-brained and distracted by (a) my phone, (b) a crossword puzzle, (c) my Spanish flashcards, and (d) thoughts about the pandemic. (The correct answer is all of the above.) I had just told myself to focus on only one thing at a time when I got up to get something (I forget what) and I found myself sitting here at the computer. I know, I probably need meds more wine.
And while I’d been on the couch, I kept thinking about something Billy Collins said recently in one of his live-from-home poetry talks. In speaking about social isolation, he said we’re living under a “futureless condition,” not knowing how long this situation will last or what life will be like afterwards. He compared it to being in 4th grade, where the only future you can imagine is “5th grade.” I thought that was a great description of how I’ve been feeling. And again, it’s okay to feel that way. I guess another way to describe it is how Bob Dylan would have put it: “no direction home.”
Then I looked at my little bird photo through the “futureless condition” lens, and I could imagine how that bird must feel, clinging to a tiny branch, swaying in the breeze, not sure why he was there or where he would be heading to next. And I knew I wanted to try and put all of those thoughts and feelings and images into a poem.
I did write the poem, but I have no idea whether it’s “any good,” so I’m going to let it steep for a while before I publish it. Meanwhile, here’s my little muse, the light little bird that inspired all this heavy thinking today.
And before you go, if the spirit grabs you, don’t forget to leave a comment and let me know how you’re doing. Do you have a muse?
Today’s post is about Zooming (video conferencing with my kids) and Blooming (photos I took about a month ago).
I haven’t been outside with my camera for several weeks, for fear of encountering someone on the trail who might sneeze on me. That actually happened to a friend of mine. Maybe my next batch of photos will be of the still life variety, taken indoors.
Let’s see … I could artfully arrange that pile of work folders that’s sitting on a stool in my living room. I might create a colorful collage from the pile of fabric rectangles stacked up next to my sewing machine. Or perhaps the world is ready for a sculpture I’ve created out of my pile of dirty laundry — the laundry I’m hesitant to do in the community laundry room. Then there’s my dwindling pile of toilet paper rolls … I really had better photograph it before it’s gone.
I’m doing okay, though. I just had a fun three-way video chat with my daughters. Tomorrow is the older one’s 40th birthday, so we celebrated by using Zoom. After the initially unsuccessful attempt at connecting, there we all finally were on the screen, looking like a pared-down version of the Brady Bunch (without the makeup, weird hairdos, or fake smiles). Well, in my case, I had put on a touch of makeup. They may have, too, but I couldn’t tell because they always look beautiful to me.
It wasn’t exactly the birthday party my daughter would have wanted, but it definitely made my day. I got to see with my own eyes how they’ve been coping during the pandemic, and it was reassuring. They even hilariously modeled their new masks, which they’ve made by cutting up the many pairs of leggings that they own, and making holes in them to place over their ears. It’s genius!
As always, they made me laugh, demonstrating how the stretchiness of the masks enables the wearer to quickly change them into long earrings, headbands, or a clever way to hide a double chin.
It was also a chance for me to visit with my grandsons. The 4-year-old (who tells his parents every day that he’s “so sick of the coronavirus”) said “I love you” (unprompted) and the almost 1-year-old smiled and waved and blew me an almost-kiss, touching his open palm to his mouth and holding it there for about 20 seconds. I have to say, it might have been one of the longest kisses I’ve ever received. It was definitely one of the best, anyway.
I hope you enjoy these photos of budding life and the promise of spring.
Greetings from Lori’s Isolation Outpost, otherwise known as my home office. My disembodied voice is coming to you through the wonders of a website called WordPress. It’s an apt name for a space that allows me to figuratively “press” you (as opposed to shaking your hand or otherwise coming within six feet of you).
Isolation Outpost is actually my spare bedroom. It has an old oaken table, a sewing table, a dresser, a keyboard, a guitar, and a fake oriental rug where I do a few exercises each morning. (OK, maybe not every morning.) This is where I do office-y things like writing and editing photos. It’s also where I do non-office-y things like online shopping, checking my Facebook page for likes, watching YouTube videos, and researching important topics like how to copy and send mp3 files via email. No home office deduction for me, not after the IRS sees this post, anyway.
I guess since this site’s called WordPress, it would be appropriate to have a Word of the Day. Well, in that case, my word for the day today is PALPITATION. My heart’s been going ker-thump and ker-thumpity thump on and off for about a week now — in fact it’s doing it as I type this sentence. Palpitations can be brought on by any number of conditions, but in my case, I’m pretty sure it’s stress.
You wouldn’t know it to see me. In fact, you wouldn’t even know it to BE me. I look, act, and FEEL very calm most of the time. But I have a feeling this pandemic is getting to me in insidious ways. It may be my new normal. But I’m going to fight it. I’ll reduce my coffee intake, I’ll meditate, I’ll go for a walk, and I’ll watch more comedy. Yes. That’s my plan, anyway.
And I’ll keep taking photos. Here’s a juvenile vermilion flycatcher. He looks pretty chill.
Adult vermilion flycatchers are brilliant red. (I once wrote a song inspired by one.) Young males like the one shown above look like they’ve been partially dipped in a bucket of orange paint. This one’s spreading his tail feathers to sun himself. Maybe I’ll do that today — sun myself, that is. A walkabout in the Arizona sunshine would do my heart good. And maybe it’ll inspire another song!
Here’s a roadrunner I saw a few days ago, also sunning its tail feathers.
He or she (hard to tell the difference) seemed very content to stand still and preen itself while I took its picture, although it did warn me to stay at least six feet away.
Whatever you do today, I hope it’s relaxing and good for your heart … and soul.
To say I’m going through some weird feelings at the moment because of the pandemic is an understatement. It feels dystopian. Unreal. It’s a little like the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Some days, I experience all five. This post is going to be a jumble of emotions. So be it.
Two days ago, I think depression was winning. But I’ve been trying to cope by reading, writing, watching TV, going for walks, and taking photos. Here’s a cute black-tailed gnatcatcher I saw the other day :
I admire his optimism. I hope some of it rubs off on me.
I’m worried, especially when I think about those of you in parts of the world, and in my own country, who are struggling the most. Italy, New York City, nursing homes, hospitals. The unemployed, parents who need childcare, people in prisons, the homeless, the sick, the elders … it’s mind-boggling and I know we’re in for a long ride. I never imagined being here. None of us did.
And I’m sad because my family lives 2,000 miles away. I’ve even fantasized about driving there, sleeping in my car along the way so as to avoid hotel germs, and arriving on their doorsteps with sanitizer in hand (which I don’t actually have because the stores were out of it) … but I’d just be a possible carrier, adding to their problems, so it’s best if I stay away. (Which reminds me: Have you seen Mel Brooks’ video where he tells his son to “go home”?)
I guess I’ll have to rely on texting, calling, and even dreaming to stay in touch with family. I literally dreamed about my two young grandsons last night. They will each have a birthday that I will miss this year.
My city, Tucson, just closed all restaurants and bars today. I think take-out is still an option, but sadly, I’m sure that doesn’t apply to bars. Glad I stocked up on wine, but three bottles doesn’t seem like nearly enough now.
On the bright side, scientists, medical professionals, some political leaders, small businesses, ordinary people are actually pulling together and making sacrifices for the sake of the greater good.
And I’m actually pretty impressed with how many of us humans are acting humanely, and are even finding and spreading humor on the internet. Is there a reason that the words “human” and “humor” are so similar?
By the way, here’s what made me laugh today:
In the days to come, I hope to continue with my emotional outpourings. In the meantime, please let me know how you’re doing. Are you coping? Do you need a virtual shoulder to cry on? If so, I’m your person. Comment away.
My friend has come up with a brilliant idea for the year 2020, and I think she should patent it. But since she hasn’t done that yet, I’ve stolen borrowed the concept — and today I’m passing it along to you, free of charge!
I’m calling it a 20 x 20 chart. Here’s how it came about: One day, my friend got to thinking about the year 2020. She liked the fact that it was a “double year.” Double years are rare. Since the year 1 C.E. (A.D.), double years have occurred only 20 times.
Yep, there’s 11, 22, 33, 44, 55, 66, 77, 88, 99, 1010, 1111, 1212, 1313, 1414, 1515, 1616, 1717, 1818, 1919, and 2020. (I admit it, I counted them. Duh.)
She especially liked how 2020 looks in Roman numerals (MMXX). Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and write out the other 19 double-digit years in Roman numerals. My brain hurts just thinking about it.
Anyway, my friend wanted to do something special in honor of the year 2020. She quickly discarded the idea of making one grandiose New Year’s resolution, since resolutions tend to get broken, and once that happens, that’s it for the year. Instead, she decided to do something more ongoing — and something she could actually accomplish. The result is her 20 x 20 spreadsheet, seen below. (Side 2 would have columns 11-20.)
At the top of each column, she wrote a mini-goal for herself (20 goals in all). Each goal was something challenging, yet do-able — to be done 20 times during the course of the year. (For example, “Write a letter to a friend.”) As she accomplishes each task, she places a check mark in the appropriate box. By year end, she should have 400 check marks.
I’ve decided to take the 20 x 20 plunge, and you may want to try it as well. If you do, I’d love to hear what challenges you’ve come up with. Here are mine. Remember: My goal is to do each one of these 20 times by December 31.
Send a card to my grandson
Learn to play a new song on guitar
Watch a movie
Read a children’s book
Learn to say “I love you” in a new language
Attend a yoga class
Write a poem
Learn the capital city of an African nation
Write three things I am grateful for
Contribute food to the local Food Bank
Listen to a classical music piece
Watch a Ted Talk (5 of them in Spanish)
Read an article about an artist whose work hangs in the Louvre
Give up social media for a day
Walk 12 miles (20 km) in a week
Practice piano at least 20 minutes
Try a new type of tea
Read a short story
Visit the gym
Write a blog post
So far I’ve managed to check off 20 boxes — wait, 21, counting this blog post! Only 379 left to go. Hugs to my friend for inspiring me, and hugs to you for reading this. Happy 2020!
My sister is flying across the country tomorrow to visit me. She’ll be staying with me for five whole days. YAY! I love family visits. I don’t get them very often, so I hope to make the most of it, with the usual food, fun, and frivolity.
She’s gluten-free (and I’m not), so that just adds to the fun of preparing for her stay. I’m not being sarcastic. I actually enjoyed my gluten-free scavenger hunt at Trader Joe’s tonight. I googled “Trader Joe’s gluten free” and found a list that included these yummy items. (I can’t wait to try that almond cashew macadamia drink.)
For dessert, we can snack on Lara Bars. I love the cashew/date ones. I hope she leaves those for me. Actually, they’re the only ones I’ve tried. That lemon bar looks good right now. Hope I can wait till she gets here.
I also bought some fruits and veggies, and made a centerpiece to welcome her into my home. Luckily, my sister gets my sense of humor.
Is wine gluten-free? Oops. I just might have to consume these all by myself.
I KNOW these aren’t gluten free. Impulse purchase!
Tucson is an International City of Gastronomy, which means we’ll definitely be going out to sample some gluten-free tacos, tamales, burritos, salads, baked goods, and Margaritas while she’s in town. I’ve got my Best of Tucson issue on the coffee table so we can find all the best places.
Needless to say, I might not be posting anything for the next five days. But after that, I just might have some food photos to share!
This is post #5 (but who’s counting?) of NanoPoblano2019. Don’t know what NanoPoblano2019 is? Just click the link! It’s gluten-free, too!