Sic Semper 2020

As usual, the past year has been a mixed bag for me. I see plenty of people, year after year, kvetching about how crappy the past year has been. I know their lives aren't a full on mess, if the deluge of social media bragging is to be believed. I decided long ago that I would at least try to see the silver lining.

Well anyway, the movie Mad Max takes place in 2021.

Boxing Day Chillout

For some odd reason, the 24th and 25th just felt busy. They were busier than a typical day, but not enough to warrant how it felt.

The calendar today was clear. We kept it that way. Today, we do nothing. I'm not leaving this house. There's (finally) snow on the frozen ground outside, a hard chill in the air, and enough leftovers that nobody has to cook if they don't want to. I'm wearing my new hoodie and eating the various snacks my kids got me and plan to accomplish nothing.

I suppose I'm lucky enough to get to do that.

Infestation

Anyone who knows me well enough (or not at all and happened to be in the same room when I was on the subject) knows how much I hate

Hate

HATE

...infestations. I have absolutely no tolerance for anything non human living in my house, except spiders. Spiders and I have an understanding: I hate bugs, they eat bugs. We work together, but that's it. (Don't tell my wife, she doesn't like spiders at all)

But it's especially grating when it's the kind of bug that likes people. Many a year ago, in Buffalo, our apartment had a problem with bed bugs. My neighbor took in some guests that had been bouncing from one seedy hotel to another, and soon after brought the infestation. It wasn't long before they crawled through the walls (yea, they do that) right into my kids bedroom.

I knew I didn't like any sort of infestation, but that's when I learned just how much I hated it when they preferred to eat people. I won't go into any detail, but it was a rage inducing nightmare that lasted six months (that my landlord had to pay for). 

I suppose head lice is tame in comparison. We only needed to treat bedding (threw in the couches for good measure), do a lot of laundry, and soak some heads in a funny smelling shampoo. My wife knew what to look for, and I got a crash course during so that I'd know what to look for on her. Our daughter (whose hair is so rich and so fine) had some visitors, and one son had a tourist. All else were clean, but I'm willing to burn half my house to make sure of it.

My kids had a varied response to the required treatment, but that was inevitable.

The real issue is... where on Earth did they come from? My family, who also sees only other family (we're seriously a bubble), or the one neighbor girl with exceedingly thick, long hair that you could lose a shoe in (not gonna lie, I'm a bit envious) and had previously mentioned that she'd had head lice once or twice in the distant past and oh can I borrow a winter hat while I play outside in the snow with your kids great thanks.

I guess we'll never know.

No Novemburr?

Normally we see at least one snowstorm before Thanksgiving. So far it's snowed twice, and not enough to bother changing your footwear over. Oh it's been cold enough that there's been frost on my car some mornings, but just... no snow. We're in the middle of December now and still no snow.

I'm not complaining, it's just really weird.

The unfit stocking

My sister, many years ago, made custom stockings for everyone in my family. At the time Dear Wife and I only had our three boys, and as such only the five were made. After daughter child was born, another (final) one was commissioned. They're the same size, however the loop they hang on was slightly smaller on hers. It didn't matter until...

Recently, as Dear Wife was redecorating she made up a new place for them to hang (yea, we don't have a fireplace). Some fancy looking wooden knobs were brought in for them to hang on, and it was all assembled and set up. Once finished, she hung the stockings.

But daughter child's was too narrow to fit over the knob. "It's alright" we said, "we'll fix it tomorrow, seeing as it's already pretty late right now"

The next morning, the boys bouncing around the house, I woke to find my daughter desperately trying to hang her stocking. She saw it sitting on the end table nearby, and thought it was overlooked. Her inability to hang the stocking was rather distressing. Fortunately, she's at least old enough to understand why once we explained it to her. 

Still, imagine being five years old and thinking your stocking is being left out.

A very small Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving always used to be a crowded affair. I always enjoyed seeing everyone, catching up, and of course eating until I hated myself. Leftovers always had me thinking... why are there always leftovers? We've been doing this for decades, do we not know how to cook enough for the number of people attending? We manage every other meal, why is this one so different?

Turkeys are huge, and we generally only cook one once a year. That's probably why.

Well this year, sadly, I didn't see everyone. What I'm saying is that I have so many leftovers that I'll be finishing this off as Christmas breakfast. I won't want to touch the stuff until... ok next Thanksgiving.

Aggrivated mulching

There was one final day of nice, warmer weather. Only one, and immediately after it got cold and wet. Fortunately, that was a day where I actually had time. Seeing as I hate yard work, I took the easiest path to removing the leaves.

A giant riding mower. I ran over them again and again until there was nothing left of them but a fine mulch covering half my lawn. Not one half or the other, no, but an odd stripe pattern I cared not to disperse. I just kept riding back and forth, over and over, until there wasn't a leaf left. That I could reach, anyway.

And since it was still warm, I pulled the mower deck and installed the snowblower. It felt so odd installing a snowblower attachment when it was warm enough that I worked in short sleeves wishing I had a breeze in the garage, but there I was. My problem was that I, in years past, always forgot about it until it had already snowed. Of course when that happens, it's also cold. Very cold.

This only means that it won't snow much this winter.

The very windy day

So this massive tree sits in my backyard. Its canopy covers half the length of the yard, while totally eclipsing the width (it hangs over the fence on each side. My yard is much longer than it is wide). It's not like the other trees in the neighborhood: they drop their leaves much earlier. My tree is a stubborn one, refusing to let them go when it's light enough out for me to deal with them. When it's warm enough.

Early last week it gave up. Within three days it went from a tree full of dead leaves, to naked. The yard was covered in a thick blanket of ecological refuse. There it sat all week as my limited motivation was further hampered by my children wanting to play in it.

Spoiler alert: they didn't.

Then came the wind. The furious howling wind. I watched in awe as no massive branches dropped from the tree (happens any time it's even slightly gusty, so this was really strange), and then the leaves were entirely shoved across the lawn.

This is where having a chain link fence kinda sucks. Those leaves would have been entirely gone. Instead, I have an entire tree's worth of leaves crammed into one corner, piled almost as high as the fence.

...I hate yard work. Now it's as ugly as it was annoying.

Novemblarg

This time last year, we already had a snowstorm. So far this time around we've had endless sunshine and warm breezes. Don't get me wrong, my solar panels are in love with this (it's the 11th and we already surpassed the total Nov2018 amount), but a part of me is beyond ready for it to be cold. Mostly it's my vain side.

See, I hate my summer wardrobe. I've never been able to pull off the 'shorts and t-shirt' look. I just look like a 40 year old that gave up. Mostly because it's the only comfortable way I can dress. (I generate my own heat, so yea) Come winter, I can dress far more comfortably. Drop the temperature twenty or thirty degrees and I sleep like a baby.

No, babies wake up every 2 hours. I sleep like a dad. so comfy

I love it when I can wear sweaters. Right now it just needs to act like November.

Daylight stupid time

Nobody needs an extra hour of sleep on an already sleepy Sunday morning. For it to happen Halloween night was praised by many, but ultimately useless - everyone gets tired anyway.

I refused to change my clocks. Yesterday went as normal, with the discrepancy between self resetting clocks and those that did not hanging over all who dared pay attention. It's Monday morning and I'm living an hour in the future.

This probably won't last.

A very dead Halloween

With a stupid scary pandemic, I prepared my children for disappointment by getting a large bag of candy in case trick or treating didn't pan out.

We were down to ten percent of last year. Ten percent of lit up houses, and we saw only three other groups of kids out there. It was dismal. On the bright side, the houses were particularly generous, so the kids didn't go home with a paltry stash. The downside was the criminal lack of variety. My dear wife in particular was disappointed by the lack of even a single package of Nerds to steal.

Meanwhile, I have this giant bag of candy they didn't need, and nobody came to my house for. Oh well.

Silverish lining

So the massive economic slowdown has finally hit me. My otherwise recession proof job simply hasn't been shipping parts. (Nobody flying = airlines aren't buying planes = Boeing and Airbus aren't going to make as many)

Normally my department is ahead of schedule by 3 or 4 weeks (by necessity), and when we're doing good it's 5 weeks.

I am currently ahead by thirty weeks. I've been spending time on other projects and long term maintenance. Either way, we're cutting hours. Working only 3 days a week hasn't happened since I had a job that sucked.

Silver lining: my dear wife has me helping with the kids remote learning a couple of days. Also, more sleeping in.

I'm sure I'll find more.

Social media lockstep

I'm ok with social media, in theory. It's the only way I have of keeping up with some people I otherwise would have completely lost touch with. I'm a social person, so this works for me. In the beginning, though, it was all chronological. You'd see people's posts / tweets / whatever in the order they were created. It made sense, it formed a unique narrative to your feed.

Then, one by one, they all switched to a curated feed based on what they think you want. Even if you switch it back to chronological, things are still missing. You'd have to go on a hunt to see everything you actually said you wanted to see.

From the start of it I knew it was a way to control what people saw on the platform. Nobody wanted it, everyone hated it, but since we're A) Not paying for it, and B) Not being paid for it, that means the answer is C) We're the product being sold. So our opinion doesn't matter.

Now there's another presidential election, and news stories are dropping about either side constantly. People squawk about media biases, censorship, blah blah blah. What concerns me is when, suddenly, every social media outlet simultaneously blocks something. Links to articles are immediately deleted, people sharing information find their posts / tweets deleted, others outright banned.

I know they're privately owned, but it's almost frightening to see how much influence they've acquired.

Video recommendations

 A good while ago, I used YouTube to find music. Whatever garbage was being promoted was exactly that: refuse that should afflict the ears of no one. I found a few good songs, which led to a few good playlists, and soon the algorithm was sending me down a rabbit hole of endless new music.

Then I had to look up a few videos on other topics. DIY stuff so I could do things like fix a dryer, etc. Not long after I began looking up things I could show my kids (like when they ask how stuff works, and a verbal explanation just won't work. This is the kind of stuff I wished I had as a kid).

It didn't take long for the rabbit hole to be cemented over with an eviction notice. Since then it's taken longer to remind YouTube that what I want is music. I notice they now have different categories I can select for my 'recommendations', but honestly I should have just used a separate account and left it alone.

The mixed blessing

Every presidential election, the ground troops are out in force. Even in mid term elections, my door is beat upon by those canvassing for signatures / support / etc. It goes beyond yard signs, and full on into people being right in your face.

This particular election is... heated, shall we say. Civil debate isn't. I know people who refuse to display any loyalties for fear of vandalism. 

But this pandemic, this airborne disease with no vaccine and limited treatments, lingers on. An illness that kills old and young alike. One that's contagious before you even know you're sick.

It's October and nobody has come to my door. I have seen nobody canvassing neighborhoods, meeting people in public places (outside the library was a popular spot). Everyone rightly fears the virus.

Two edged sword, people.

Final thoughts

So even after disgorging my entire experience in blog form, it actually took me a little while to come up with what can best describe my trip, and it makes me want to go back.

For a few days, I forgot it was 2020.

Boundary Waters Pt4

The awkward part about sleeping in a hammock is getting out in the middle of the night because your bladder is as old as the rest of you. Opening the mosquito net and finding your footwear are all easy things when you can see. Either way, I slept like a dream. I felt amazing that morning, and leftovers for breakfast made it much nicer.

It was the best camp site we had seen so far, but we needed to move on. We headed due east, our maps telling us there was a narrow waterway we could cut through rather than going around an island. When we reached it, we discovered that it was not, in fact, a waterway. It was the shortest portage I'd seen: as soon as I stood up off the boat I could see the other side. My boat, along with Noma and Ron, simply carried our canoes the short distance and put back in. The other two boats went around.

After meeting up, we found an empty camp site, but didn't set up. We stopped for lunch while another boat continued forward to see if we could find something better. Within an hour (I wasn't really timing it), they radioed back having found the perfect spot on the southern tip of Clarke island. We gathered our things and followed them, finding that this spot actually had a beach. They called it sandy, but it was more grainy. Chunky as it were. We set up camp and settled for the day. Some of us went swimming, which changed us from smelling like the unwashed masses, to smelling like a lake. I accepted the change.

Then came the winds.

Well first came the rain. We saw the storm coming from a distance, and worried somewhat as to what direction it was going. We got a light sprinkle compared to the downpour we saw at a distance. Once that had passed, we climbed to a high point to watch the weather. That's when the winds came. We retreated to our tents, and about halfway through the noisy bluster I decided I didn't want to risk my sleeping gear and went to my hammock to retrieve them. That's when I realized it wasn't all that windy down there. The wind was rustling the tops of the trees quite heavily, but didn't bother us much down there.

The squirrels at this island were noisy. I had never heard them so loud, nor seen them so bold. Nature isn't as afraid of us out there as in the suburbs.The island also had plenty of maple varieties, and the sap showed.

Who goes camping and expects to stay clean, honestly?

After dark, Becka took me on a late night canoe ride to the middle of the lake. It was dead silent. A gentle breeze, and a nearly full moon. Yes we took pictures, but we all know that no picture has ever captured the moment. No visual that large, or that deep, can be done justice. I was mesmerized.

I fell asleep easily enough, but woke at 2am to the sound of a strong wind. I could ignore it well enough until I heard the footsteps.

You see we were spread pretty thin across the southern part of Clarke Island. I couldn't find a decent spot to set up close to the others, so I was a little ways off by myself. It wasn't difficult, just isolated. That's what makes footsteps in the middle of the night so disconcerting.

I had my flashlight, but my knife was in the tent with Becka. So I did what any other person would do in that situation and froze solid for an hour or so. It was dark enough that you couldn't see the hammock without a light, and they had no light.

"They" were either nature or my imagination. Didn't calm my nerves. I just stayed awake until it started to get light out, then felt brave enough to fumble my way out of a hammock with little visibility under the rain fly. Of course I was alone.

We broke camp and headed south. It was windy, the water was choppy until we got to the narrows, I actually worried since the waves were about the size of our boats. We made it across unscathed but not unsplashed, and made the gentle ride down until we reached the outfitter.

It felt a bit odd, seeing society. The outfitter isn't in the park itself, but the waterways are connected. This was apparent when we passed the sign identifying the boundary to the boundary waters (we saw a similar one one Seagull lake), and later rode past some private docks leading to some houses. Once we disembarked, we made the drive back connecting to Grand Marais before heading back to Bear Lake. I had never been so grateful to not be the one driving.

You ever take a shower and come out of it feeling like you need a shower? Felt like that for a few days. I finally smelled worse than my kids.

Sunday morning came and everyone packed their stuff away, and good-bye's were said. Becka was right. There's nothing like the place.

Boundary Waters Pt3

Seeing as I normally wake up around 5am, I indeed woke up about 4am. I tried to stay quiet, but I also needed to do quite a bit of stretching to fix what the ground had done to me. That's when I discovered the mice.

Field mice, I think they were, had swarmed our food. None of the bags had been breached save one: mine. The one with my wife's all natural stuff in it. Everyone else's heavily processed food product substitutes were untouched. (Not knocking it, that's what I had too). The bag itself was ruined, but it wasn't a hardship. The worst part of it for me was that I couldn't really relax and stretch myself out, the mice were unafraid and aggressive.

Becka woke next and joined me for awhile on the rock. A million stars in the sky chased away by a startling sunrise, all shattered by the constant probing of these mice. They finally retreated when others started to wake and the sun took away their stealth.

After some light planning, we broke camp and headed out. We crossed the rest of Alpine and made for Red Rock Lake. The portage was awkward; the trail was very narrow, which was fine when carrying gear, but when carrying a canoe the brush was grabbing you on both sides.

The name of the lake made sense when I noticed many a rock whose color was reddish. (They were closer to orange, but the lake was probably named at a time when the color itself was called "yellow-red" before taking the name of the fruit. Yes, I'm gonna flex my word nerd right now).

It was sunnier that day. Red Rock lake was much calmer. The shoreline changed, the forest fire hadn't reached this area like it did the others. The trees were much taller (as opposed to the glorified saplings we had before), a sight that gave me hope. The dead trees became a rare sight as we headed north toward Red Rock Bay.

This portage was odd. It was basically rocky water. We could pull the boats alongside us once we got out, but the last third we needed to carry them. So we did, gear and all. It was much easier than trying to carry them separately. It was my second favorite portage of the trip.

Further north we found our camp site on Gold Island. We had the island to ourselves, and it was full of very large, sturdy trees. We set up camp for the day, and I finally got to set up my camp hammock. I laid down, but managed to nap. Sleeping on the ground wrecks my shoulders, and paddling a canoe offers them no respite. Dear wife was kind enough to rub my shoulders, but I needed proper sleep.

After two days worth of half meals and snacks, we finally settled down and spent a few hours cooking a large and lengthy dinner. I went back 3 times and even cooked what I would later save for breakfast the next morning. After sunset, we played an interesting numbers game, afterward Becka read us a story that she had written on a previous trip to the boundary waters, ages ago.

As I got settled into my hammock, I noticed that from exactly where my head rested, I could look out on the lake while a gentle breeze caressed me. I don't sleep that well at home.

Boundary Waters Pt2

(I should start by saying this group was Noma and Ron, Cami and Manny, Rugga and Tara, with myself and Becka)

Grand Marais is a tiny spit of a town that thrives on tourism and closes early in the day. From there it's about two hours driving to get to the campground we spent our first night in. (Our entry permit was for Wednesday, and we didn't want to spend any of Wednesday not in the water) About half way there, the signal disappeared. No data, no calls, no texts. I've tried disconnecting for awhile, but there has always been something nearby. This was the first time I can recall where it was a total cutoff for everyone I was with. It lasted until we reached about the same spot on our way back.

Two campsites, four tents, eight people, and sixteen rules to a completely 'made up on the spot' card game that had No Boundaries. It was, without a doubt, the strangest and most cathartic way to start a trip into the middle of nowhere. The only disappointing part was there was nowhere to set up my hammock. (I have a nice camping hammock with a mosquito net and rain fly so I can spend the night in it instead of sleeping on the ground in a tent). Alas the tent will have to do.

In the morning we wasted little time packing up and getting into the water. It's worth noting at this point that as we were loading and setting out, absolutely nobody turned over and swamped their boats. Nope, absolutely nobody. Wasn't me, wasn't anyone else with us. Just didn't happen. Nooooooooooooooooooope.

Once out into the water, we headed south towards Seagull Lake. There was a quick portage to get there, so we made landfall and started on foot (those boats turned out to be surprisingly light). At least, it's a very short portage if you go the right way. You see it was a loop, and the correct way is surprisingly short. If you go the other way, you'll still get there, it will just take awhile. I won't say who was holding the map, but I will say that if I had a cursory look at it, it would have helped.

Anyway several hours later we were on Seagull Lake. It was bright, but overcast. Warm enough, but not hot. I couldn't have asked for better weather. I would say it was a large lake, but when you're in a lightweight boat not much wider than yourself, it's all relative. I can't say much about the experience, and that's strictly due to my inability. We were in good company, in our own hands, and completely at the mercy of nature. It was serene. It was surreal.

It was crowded.

I always had this image in my head of the boundary waters being this vast empty wilderness, but we saw a dozen or so other boats on the lake, and every single camp site was taken. I was assured this was only the case because Seagull Lake was so close to the entry points, but the image was still shattered.

We made our way through to Rog Lake, which had a very different portage than my first experience. It was a simple straight line through the woods from one body of water to another.

Now I'll say that on the map we had, all the portages were measured in rods. One rod is sixteen and a half feet. Why they used some arcane measurement that we kept having to make adjustments for is beyond me, but I'll do the math for you. This first portage was 330 feet. Far from the circular path we experienced earlier, it was an unmarked rocky trail with a slight elevation. Once through, Rog Lake was a small one that merely took us through toward Alpine lake. That portage was much longer, but led us through to where we would find our first camp site. We took the first empty site we could find.

Apparently a major economic disruption encouraged more people to go camping, and to stay longer.

This region of the boundary waters had, apparently, experienced a forest fire about ten years ago, which was evidenced by the many still dead trees and the lack of nice big trees to set up a hammock, or even hang a bear bag. We set up camp. This is when I learned that a boundary waters latrine is not the same as any other campground.

It's a toilet sitting in the woods. No building, no roof. Nothing. Just a toilet sitting in the woods. It was surrounded by thick underbrush, but still... just a toilet in the woods. The upside here is that it didn't stink.

Not long after dinner, my NY sleep schedule was strongly asserting itself. The lack of a place to hang the food has us merely setting it on a giant rock near the shore and hoping for the best. We didn't have to worry about bears.

Boundary Waters Pt1

I was able to tell the story about my van problems easily. It was just relaying events with my usual flavor sprinkled in. But the trip to the boundary waters itself, the reason it happened, I needed to take more time to digest it.

My wife's family was from the Minneapolis area, and about half of them still live in the region. The first stop was in Eagan on account of the new baby. We would have arrived early on Saturday and had the day to enjoy, but unforseen issues knocked that back to a midnight arrival. Midnight central, so my body was telling me it was 1am. (And after the mediocre rest I had previously, I crashed pretty hard)

Sunday my wife's entire family was together again. We gathered at the big aquarium in the mall of america. My kids got a kick out of the tunnel where the sea life swam above us, but I couldn't get over the jellyfish. Sure they're translucent, but the tanks had different colored lights, so it just them look so much cooler. (I swear they're not from Earth)

We reconvened at the house (where we could finally see each other's faces, stupid masks) for many a group photo (which my kids hate), after which the bulk of us headed for Bear Lake Wisconsin.

This arm of the family lives right on the lake. He's a park ranger at a scout camp, and they live right on the camp. I couldn't think of a better place to keep my kids occupied during our trek.

Monday was spent, oddly, with many of them sorting through their parents storage locker before buying the food for our trip. Not complaining, but it did mean that we came home with more stuff than I anticipated. What it did mean was that the food prep lasted long into the night.

Tuesday we headed out. All of us (kids included), met up in Duluth with those that stayed in MN, then out to Gooseberry Falls. The kids just jumped in the water. As a native New Yorker, I was startled by the complete lack of fencing and other barriers stopping people from doing anything fun in the water. The sheer drop-offs were a bit unsettling, knowing full well that my kids go running full bore not watching which way they're going, but everyone came out of it alive and chilly. From there, the kids went back to Bear Lake. The rest of us went on to Grand Marais.

The case of the missing bolts

It's just over one thousand miles between my house and Bear Lake Wisconsin. That's where my wife's sister lives, which we used as a staging point prior to our trip. There was some hubub about a new baby had by a different sister in Eagan Minnesota, which while overshooting, was our first stop. Drive time was estimated at 16 hours. The events began on Sunday.

Two weeks before leaving, I took the van in to deal with some issues, and to give it a look over before putting my family in it on such a trip. (Spoiler: they didn't find *the* problem)

I made it as far as Cleveland. One of the tires started grinding loudly, and smoke poured from the wheel well. It was 7:30 pm on Friday. The cookie-cutter consumer business plaza we managed to stop in had enough generic amenities within walking distance that I could easily get my kids into a hotel whose TV had Netflix while the AAA driver took my suffering vehicle to the nearest AAA authorized repair facility.

Only I wish they hadn't. The nearest 'authorized' facility was 1.1 miles away. The next closest was 1.2 miles away. The one they took it to was, of course, closed for the day. We were stuck in Willoughby Hill Ohio for the night. The tow driver just up and took the van without me, dropping the key into the secure drop box sight unseen.

Oh sure I can blame cOrOnAvIrUs for all my problems this weekend: otherwise I would have been allowed to ride with him and do the drop myself. At least then I would have seen their posted hours on the door before committing: they were closed until Monday 7am. (The next closest at 1.2 miles was open all weekend)

These were details we were able to glean from various sources well after the fact. Even if AAA was willing to tow the van to the other place (they weren't, and the girl on the phone was a dick about it), they still had the key in their lock box. We were stuck. Even if the place was open, or the van was brought somewhere that was open, there were no guarantees. It could be a simple fix, or they might have to do extensive work (the amount of noise and smoke was a troubling feature).

We slept on it. Poorly, I might add. Hotels are never that comfortable, especially when troubled and stuck. Fortunately, every imaginable need or want that could be had along a major highway near a large city in the US can be met thanks to the entrepreneurial drive of those who want my money. I walked myself to a car rental place and got another van for the duration of our trip. We drove to the repair shop (thankfully my van was still outside) where we unloaded all of our stuff into the rental (My keys were in the drop box, however my lovely wife still had hers). Once the switch was made, we continued onward.

Not going to lie, I felt awkward just leaving the van there for the rest of the trip. Especially knowing that once Tuesday afternoon hit, I would be completely unreachable. They might not be able to work on it until then, and they might find a problem that required my authorization to repair while I was unreachable. I certainly didn't want to give them a blanket authorization to do whatever, because they just might. But since my expedition ended on a Saturday, the next time I could contact them was the next Monday morning, and that was the time I would be arriving to pick it up.

You see why I was experiencing some anxiety about this. It was in the back of my mind all weekend during the various events happening before Monday, when they opened and gave me a call. They were alright with me leaving it for a week (or they were just rolling with it since they didn't have much of a choice). Later in the day they called again after discovering the problem. It was simple enough to easily discover and quickly fix, but bad enough to stop the van and potentially destroy half the parts nearby. (Aren't there supposed to be bolts holding in the calipers? They sheared off)

They also discovered a host of other problems, but it's ten years old and lives where they pour salt brine on the roads. I just wanted it to get us home. By the end of the day, they called back saying it was fixed and ready to go.

This place was only open from 7am to 6pm M-F. It was going to take us 14 hours to get there from where we were starting on Sunday. Short of finding a hotel (a source of concern during a pandemic, emergencies notwithstanding), we needed to time our drive and do a lot of it overnight. Turns out we timed it perfectly, arriving at the repair shop at 7:15. We made the switch, returned the rental, and made our way home.

The age of my van was apparent once we got back in, as I'd been a bit spoiled by the much newer vehicle. I doubt it's going on any more road trips.

Into the wilderness

Honestly the worst part about planning an 8 person, 4 day expedition into a primitive wilderness expedition is the food. Planning around the many different allergies, preferences, diets, tastes, etc is more of a challenge than I prefer to deal with.

So my wife is doing it. I regret nothing. 

Anniversary

Today is my 14th wedding anniversary. Honestly I'm surprised she put up with me for so long.

Skating by

When everything shut down, NYS decided to ignore vehicle inspections for awhile. As in they'd let it go for a few months. Mine was due in June, and I kept putting it off. Kept holding on. Pushing my luck. Then it sounded like the brakes were about to go, and I needed an oil change, so I finally broke down and took it in.

Stupid tires were worn below the limit. Stupid brakes were all worn out. I knew there was a hole in the exhaust, and the exhaust pipe was factory original (six year old vehicle in snow/salt country, so that's an accomplishment).

Anyway this is pricey. Yikes.

Nope, closed

So while the school gave us options, we took the one that keeps the kids home. "Distance learning" through the school isn't the same as proper homeschooling, but it's better than nothing, and certainly easier than trying to figure out homeschooling in what time we have left.

Especially since that time is being spent figuring out the last minute details of our upcoming trip. (I never imagined there would be so many details on a wilderness expedition, but alas)

So far all I need to do is convert the lounge in the basement into a classroom. (Nobody uses the lounge much during the school year anyway, so this works out) That appears deceptively easy, but I'll take it at face value and deal with any surprises later.

HOT

Ok so we have the hottest July on record. I hate the heat. My midwestern wife appears to tolerate it more, but I just think she complains less.

I remember as a kid wishing I could bottle up the extra heat and let it loose in the winter months, when the hard pack layers grow deeper and the icy chunks stick to everything. Of course, I was thinking of doing it the other way, and releasing the cold into my summers, but I didn't quite understand energy in my youth.

You know, back when I had energy.

Once I figure this out I'll be set.

Schools reopening

There's been a lot of discussion regarding schools reopening in the fall. All of these 'hybrid' plans seem convoluted. Simply throwing open the doors is reckless.

I've told every graduating senior to either sign up for online classes, or take a gap year.

Schools are the worlds biggest germ stew, and no matter how it happens, it's gonna be a mess.

Recovery binge

When I'm in the throes of an illness, I nearly always experience ups and downs. Some of those ups may seem like a recovery, and I've been fooled in my youth. But there's a common element to a genuine recovery.

I get insanely hungry.

This respiratory ailment that beset me (and, frankly, worried me), began to fade not long after my last blog post about it. I felt confident not in my lack of symptoms, but in my newly emptied fridge.

Also felt good not being sick.

Pneumon-what?

Good news: I no longer have bronchitis.
Bad news: I've been upgraded to pneumonia.

The time off work would be nice if I could do anything more than lounge around like unset Jello.

BronWHAT

I've been tired a lot. Like more than I should be. Then this spot on my neck started getting sore. (Dr Google told me it was a swollen lymph node, but his is an honorary degree, so I need to take it with a grain of salt) Then came a dry cough, felt like a chest cold.

Note: this is not the time to "man up" and push through it.

My doctors office felt like an isolation room. The reception area like a decontamination chamber. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was in The Andromeda Strain.

The sample collected said bronchitis.

Bronchitis... in July. All things considered it could be worse. But then the doctor told me to isolate for a week.

Again. After my workplace was shut down for 5 weeks, then again for another 2 weeks, I actually don't want to. At least those times I could work on some projects, and I did what I could given the uncertainty. But now, just staying at home and doing nothing?

I'm going stir crazy.

BLOCK

Honestly I just don't know what to blog about anymore. I want to go on my big vacation, but I'm half afraid the world is going to collapse while I'm disconnected.

It would be nice to know if I'm coming home to a smoldering ruin or not.

Fathers "day"

My kids aren't really old enough to do anything for fathers day yet (my oldest is 11, so while he can be creative, he doesn't have much in the way of means, nor has his mother been to a store since March. 2020 has been in interesting year to say the least). This means that pretty much everything is coming straight from my wife.


So for fathers day this year "my kids" got me some camping stuff. I'm excited for my trip to the boundary waters (unless civilization collapses first, fingers crossed), and this is only fanning the flames.

Chop chop

I managed to get a haircut. When I rolled in there, they pulled up my number and it said I hadn't been in since January. Fortunately it also said what my normal haircut was, which helps because six months later I forgot. I lost a wig's worth of hair. I can see without having to brush it away from my eyes. My post-shower towel is much drier than it used to be.

I turned 40 this past Sunday. I remember being very self conscious when I turned 30, but apparently it wasn't on my mind when I was blogging. I was apparently more willing to talk about getting my first smartphone. (Note: the LG Ally was a massive piece of crap) This time, it doesn't seem to bother me.

I guess I just have better things to worry about.

Santas year off

What war when?

Did anyone had "race war" in apocalypse bingo?

I guess after fire, pandemic, supply chain collapse, government-induced economic collapse, and murder hornets, this fits right in.

The longest hair

I was due for a haircut back in March when everything shut down. I tend to go longer between cuts during tax season simply because I don't have the chance to get out as often. My plan was, back in March, to sneak out of work early and get the haircut I needed. I went to the hospital that day instead.

I always get annoyed with my hair when it starts getting long, but with my inability to get it cut, I managed to ignore it. (Of all the recent events, longer hair is pretty low on the list of things to be bothered by). But this is downright weird. When it sticks up, it is tall. It moves on its own with the wind, or even when I move my head.

Dear wife says this is normal. I think she's making stuff up and that if this goes on any longer, the hair will be controlling me.

Bedtime

My kids get up at the same time every day. It's somewhere between 5:30 and 6am every morning, no matter what. That's when I get up to go to work on a normal day, so it's not too big a deal. (Although I do like a nice quiet morning, they don't happen often)

The issue is that their wake up time simply does not change. Stayed up late? Tired and cranky. Went to bed early? Got lots of sleep. Letting my kids stay up 2 hours late just so they can sleep in an extra 15 minutes is a horrible trade.

So we maintain an early bedtime. It's not as simple as just sending them off to bed, there's a whole routine. Nay, a rigamarole, that when complete has our four children, at the very least, in their beds. This entire process can take over an hour, and requires preparation. It's easy in December, when the sun sets at 4pm. But now, as we approach the summer solstice? Impossible. The sun likes to stay up late, and with it half of nature, and most other people.

Blackout curtains and running fans.

All dressed up and nowhere to go

The weather is beautiful. The kids are out of school. I have the day off of work.

Everything is closed and shut down.

Whatever. I know a few good spots. Out of the way, empty and outdoors. A bit of a drive. Felt nice to be out on the road. A walk in the woods almost made the world feel normal.

Right up until we left. I saw some people wearing masks near where we parked and I was forced to remember it all again. I swear there is no escape, not even mental.

Gardening

The last couple years I've (somewhat) enjoyed gardening. Not the actual act of gardening, no. I just like the results. The kids requested sunflowers again, the wife is hoping I can help her poor bunny-riddled raspberry bush, and I have some other odds and ends I'd like to get put in the ground.

If it would stop freezing every night.

Or raining during the day.

Or snowing. Yes, it snowed this past weekend.

Oh sure I like an excuse to be lazy, but I'm working on a timetable here.

Baking

I like to bake. Always have. It has more to do with my sweet tooth than actually crafting in a kitchen. (which I also enjoy, to a point)

Store bought sweets are honestly too sweet. It's either corn syrup, artificial sweetener, or some other artificial flavoring that they just dump in in large quantities. I'm more of a rich-sweet that you can savor type.

Also when I bake at home I can make an absolute crap ton of it. Recipe makes 12 cookies? Triple it. Entire pan of brownies? Cut into maybe 4 giant pieces.

This is why I'm getting fat.

Almost normal

My workplace finally reopened this week. Half the staff comes in on alternating days. You're supposed to wear a mask if you can't stay 6 feet apart.

It kinda feels like normal. Then again, five weeks of shutdown following a week and a half of medical leave; I'm not sure I remember how normal feels.

Birthday shmirthday

Last month my son turned 11. We couldn't do anything fun because it was all shut down. Today my daughter turns 5 and we have the same problem.

I like going hiking on my birthday, which is in June. Here's hoping.

Write what you know

They say to write about what you know. Sci-fi aficionados don't write military stories, and jarheads don't write romance novels.

I'm trying to blog on a somewhat regular basis, but the only thing is staying at home. Work is over, school is over, and my sarcasm can only take me so far.

What was normal anyway?

Universal joke

So just about everyone came up with this joke at the same time.

Standing behind my kids when they have online classwork really makes me feel like Billy Madison, though. Mostly because I don't know how to do this new math.

Even longer

Apparently it got worse and we're shut down longer.

I still went in today. Oh I didn't do work, but there are amazing shop tools I can use to finish my home projects.

I mean honestly, so many DIY videos are so oblivious. "Why spend $500 on a workbench when you can make one for $50 in parts? Step 1: turn on your $2,000 table saw"

Essential

While my workplace has been deemed "essential" by whoever is calling the shots, we're still voluntarily closed. So far we're on track to reopen next week Monday, unless things get worse.

But we also have to keep six feet apart. Work stations are right next to each other, and we don't have enough variety in workspace to really manage that. Unless we only take half the staff back.

This is gonna be tricky.

So much I want to say that I'm just not gonna.

Literally everything

I was supposed to go back to work today. After my followup appointment with my doctor last week Tuesday, I was prescribed a week with no physical labor. (I can't even bring a basket of laundry up from the basement without getting winded)

Last week was supposed to be my "relax all day and nap whenever" week to help recover. Instead they closed the schools Monday and I had anxiety riddled youth crawling all over me. I don't blame them, but it certainly wasn't helping. At least I could sit around all day.

Thursday I got notice that my workplace is shutting down for 2 weeks. Not because we were required to (because we weren't - we make parts for military and civilian aircraft and have been deemed essential), but to help the employees. Some of them have kids that aren't in school anymore, and everyone had some level of anxiety about this. It certainly does help slow the spread. I don't want a one sick coworker sending the others to the hospital.

So it's been 12 days since I left work. I'm going stir crazy. I actually *wanted* to go back to work, if only to feel normal for awhile. I can't even focus on my hobbies because my stir crazy, attention hungry kids won't let their mother or I do anything on our own.

It's snowing outside right now and I'm low on butter. This sucks.

Shut down everything

So yea, that happened. County officials decided to close the schools originally starting next Monday until April 13. One case was confirmed this morning, and they just shut down the whole thing. Schools let out and that's a wrap. Kids get a month off.

People are cleaning out grocery stores. I guess it got scary.

Heart what?

So I've felt [symptoms] for about a week and a half, and the wife always tells me to call a doctor. Whenever I *do* call a doctor, I either get a runaround or sent to the hospital.

Well I spent most of Wednesday in a hospital. Apparently blood pressure of 180 over 120 is bad. (I was just sitting there, not even doing anything strenuous)

I get to go back today so they can torture me more to figure out what's wrong with me. If I stop blogging, just assume I died.

Countdown

Every year my wife makes a paper chain to count down the days of tax season. It hangs across a wall in our living room, letting everyone know how many (or few) days remain.

This year, I decided to ignore it. I've more or less hated tax season ever since our schedules went sideways. I admit I had a hard time having the kids alone every day (for the first time), but it's gotten easier as they've gotten older (and I seem to know what I'm doing)

But ignoring the paper chain seems to make it disappear faster, and I like that.

"Thing"

When did "thing" become a unit of measurement?

My wife will often ask me for a "thing" of something, and she gets annoyed when I ask for clarification. Not sure what my response should be, I suppose.

My coworkers have been doing it, too. They seem to see the humor in my replies. Still, I have no idea when or why anyone started using the word "thing" as a unit of measurement. So freaking weird.

Mid winter fever

This week is that odd week in the middle of February where kids in NY don't have school. I don't know why, but if it were up to me I'd cancel it then end the school year a week sooner. (There's no good reason school out here should run through the end of JUNE)

But then my kids got sick. First the daughter, aching and sleepy all Saturday. Then the boys, one by one with the same symptoms. My third son was the holdout. He was fine all week. Then last night happened. He was up all night throwing up.

My dear wife, knowing full well that I have work in the morning, tried to minimize the disturbance, but he was rather distressed. Poor kid.

Meanwhile, my oldest, who has been reading my old Calvin and Hobbes books, has been acting a bit like a lawyer.

Rules

Rules I have broken:

Do not watch Contagion while your kids are sick.
Do not try to play a video game that takes place underwater when you have a fear of drowning.

I'll add more to the list as I remember them, but honestly... I almost drown as a kid, and developed a genuine phobia of being underwater. Then I go and think Subnautica would be a decent game to try out (following user reviews and all)

Meanwhile, Contagion was a decent movie. The coughing coming from my daughter just added to it. (Like when your phone rings right after watching The Ring)

Music slump

That's right, I'm in a slump. Like everyone in the 90's, I got my new music by listening to the radio. The more robust the internet became, the more I could find that wasn't being promoted by a billion dollar label without having to scour music shops and DJ hunting.

Now I've found that pretty much anything I could ever want is everywhere I want to look. My problem right now isn't an abundance of choice, it's a lack of real time I can spend looking for this.

I need to set aside some time to fix that problem.

The unwatchable

My kids were going to watch a movie tonight. Each of the boys powered over each other with the remote to find whatever action packed cartoon filled with robot dinosaurs exploding would sate their age-appropriate needs.

Then my daughter softly said that it was her turn to pick the movie. They all stopped and recounted recent history, taking notes as to what was watched on what day. They all came to the same conclusion: she was right. With no hesitation, one of them helped her navigate the menu to find the subcategory that contained Barbie movies, then selected the one (per her instruction) about mermaids or something.

I could see it in their eyes. It clearly wasn't their first, second... (how high can I count here?) choice. They were clearly disappointed, but didn't mutter a word against their sister. They decided to suck it up and see how well (or not) put together the movie was.

When I saw this play out, I realized that the TV truce is more of a well-written treaty they all closely adhere to.

Biodewhatable

At my workplace, we do a lot of shipping. We recently got a shipment of biodegradable packing peanuts. We've never used them before (mostly due to cost, but whatever)

They smell like McDonalds french fries. I kid you not, I had to go get some just to make sure it wasn't some sort of olfactory hallucination. The smell is near identical. It's not bothering me when I'm in shipping, but it really calls into question what they're serving under the golden arches.

The Truce

My kids often watch movies together, and in the past, when someone needed to step away for whatever reason (bathroom, snack, etc... Ok, only those two things really), there would arise a dispute about pausing the show until they returned.

They came to an understanding. If I don't pause it when you need to go, you won't pause it when I do. I'm not sure if it's mutually assured destruction, or if they just get along. I just know that a 90 minute movie takes 2 hours and nobody fought during it.

Another epidemic panic?

So now it's coronavirus. Or something. Right now it's killed about 20 or so people.

About 2000 people die from the regular flu every year. Wake me when it's scary.

The puppet

I picked up a hand puppet to amuse my kids with. I like doing funny voices, and it gives me a proper outlet. My kids enjoyed the humor, and I enjoyed their laughs.

Then someone told me that if you can use a hand puppet to talk to yourself. Dig another part of your psyche out and really do some self analysis. So I thought sure, what the heck?

What I learned is that the puppet is a real jerk. I stuffed him in a drawer until he's learned his lesson.

Oldielocks

I should just stop thinking I can stay up for New Years. My body decided that regardless of when I went to sleep, every single day of my time off I needed to wake up at 5am. And my kids made sure I couldn't really get a decent nap to fix the issue. After a couple days I just went to bed at a normal time like someone my age is supposed to.

But then I decided to stay up for the new year. I was a mess. A zombie. I couldn't even. January 1st was, sadly, the worst way to start off.

I like to think I'm aging gracefully, but then stuff like this happens.