EMPATHETIC v.s. ENABLER?

I have talked the past 2 days with people who are fearful … and even a little insensitive, because of their fear. At one point, I was asked if I fear for my children/grandchildren: I said, “I’m concerned – but, no, I don’t worry incessantly about them.” And I was instantly told, “Well, I worry about my children; you aren’t worried because you don’t get along with your children.” That was offensive, and very insensitive. And it tells me that that person does not know me at all.

While it is true, that my children have separated themselves from me; and I have not seen my grandchildren since December 16^th … it is NOT true that that decision is mine. It is NOT true that I wouldn’t be devastated if any of them were struck with this coronavirus – we are not speaking at the moment, but I certainly don’t want any of them to die!

I am only responsible for my thoughts and actions: I cannot control my grown children’s attitude and behavior towards me; and my grandchildren – with the exception of our little prince, who is 5-1/2 yo and his mother’s ward – are all old enough to call, text, or come and see me without their parent’s permission: two of the three adult princesses, have CHOSEN NOT to do so, based solely on their parent’s attitude and behaviors. Again, their decisions are not mine. Any conclusion by anyone to believe otherwise, is offensive and insensitive.

And it doesn’t do any good to get upset about the arrogant ignorance of the statement: it was said out of ignorance fueled by arrogant fear.

I can be empathetic without enabling the anxiety of fearmongers. I can understand the fear they feel about their own lives, as well as the lives of their children; without being sucked, myself, into the sweeping undertow of the uncertainty of the moment.

Meanwhile, today, inslee – WA State governor – has enacted a statewide 30 day moratorium on evictions for anyone who can’t pay rent due to this coronavirus outbreak; and the border between WA State and Canada has been shut down.

My point of view is this: we are all born with an expiration date … if it is my time to get my ticket punched: I’m okay with that. I know what my destination is, and I know that Yeshua and Bob are both waiting for me to arrive. If Elohim decides Earth needs me a little longer – He will protect me and make provision for me. If Elohim decides I need to make that journey beyond the clouds – nothing can forestall that appointment. I’m good either way.

I don’t like how the fear sweeping across America is literally sweeping away our Rights also. In America, citizens have THE RIGHT to move freely, think independently, and behave individually UNLESS A REAL LAW EXISTS that states otherwise. I was concerned this morning when a friend told me an man had been kept inside his house by armed guards … so I tracked the story down because I couldn’t believe that could actually happen in America. Sure enough – fear dominated and overrode Rights. It’s crazy … it’s UNLAWFULLY okay to murder babies by the millions simply because of  PERSONAL SELFISH irresponsibility – but it is not okay to move freely around your own property because your neighbors (who probably support abortion, and uphold the ‘rights’ of baby murders) fear for their lives?

Society is out of control. Everyone seems to be freaking out about coronavirus, but no one is freaking about the murder of millions of innocent lives sacrificed at the behest of narcissism. Instead, enablers of baby killers are placating fear-mongers.

(https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/don-t-want-to-self-quarantine-the-sheriff-could-send-armed-guards-to-your-house/ar-BB11iGBz)

I am empathetic towards others; but I can’t/won’t allow their panic, fear, and hysteria unbalance my peace, hamstring my movement, or steal my joy in the moment. Life is for living … not cowering in frustrated fear; now quaking with anxiety.

I have never lived my life in fear: not even while holding/kissing my husband’s hand while his physical body was dying. We both knew Bob was going to a better place to enjoy a better life: a threshold where the Specter of Death can no longer cross.

I did not then fear facing the rest of my life alone.

I do not now, fear facing the rest of my life alone.

I do not fear my own physical death if that is my destined fate,

I do not give fear a foothold in my life.

And I do not think the governing officials should slap mandatory isolations on people – this thing could go into an 18 month period.

There are PLENTY OF PLACES to go where face-to-face is limited ... or not even evident.

I can't stand being hemmed in by 4 walls - I gotta get out of the house A LOT. I enjoy being in the great outdoors, enjoying Nature Walks - breathing in fresh air and enjoying the sunshine when the sun appears after the hovering gray clouds part.

That is MY RIGHT as an American: as an individual.

It is your right too.

If you can, find an open, sunny, naturalistic environment to enjoy during this time; and boost your immune system as well as your spirit ;-)

(https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4504358/)

Being forced to stay indoors indefinitely with unhealthy stagnant air is abusive. Our lungs NEED FRESH AIR to keep our immune systems healthy, our brain functioning properly, and our minds clear.

Be wise.

Be prayerful.

Be discerning.

Remember Historical accounts: this coronavirus WILL PASS.

Be happy enjoying your life while you have a life to enjoy.

GAME HENS WITH CREOLE GRAVY Recipe

I was up until 5 AM this morning – and wide awake again after a brief 3 hour snooze; so hopping in the car to go anywhere was out of the question: with nowhere to go, and the house already cleaned after days of weather and government imposed house isolations … I thought I’d thaw out the Cornish Hens I bought a few months ago, and bake them for Supper – I’d bought them on the spur of the moment one day while aimlessly wandering the grocery isles; Bob didn’t like these little birds … and that may have been what was behind them ending up in the castle freezer: I’m trying to break loose of my old routines and establish new ones in my new life.

Anyway; even though they are spendy little things, the hens came home with me that particular day – and today they are being baked ;-)

As with every recipe I make, and share … I tweak the directions a bit to suit my own methods, so my pics/videos may not line up exactly with the text … but I post the original recipe in its entirety for recipe purists.

MPO is that recipes are a guideline – not instructions set in stone ;-)

This recipe was delish! And the house smelled yummy while the hens baked :-D

Tonight’s Supper … and a freezer meal too.

GAME HENS WITH CREOLE GRAVY ~ 4 servings

Game Hens:

4 16- to 20-ounce Cornish Game Hens * ½ teaspoons freshly ground Black Pepper * ¼ teaspoon Hungarian sweet Paprika * ¼ teaspoon dried Thyme, crumbled * ¼ teaspoon ground Sage * 1/8 teaspoon Cayenne Pepper * ¼ cup (1/2 stick) Butter, melted

Creole Gravy:

2 Tablespoons all-purpose Flout * 2 cups rich Chicken Stock * ½ cup finely chopped Onion * ¼ cup finely chopped Green Bell Pepper * ¼ cup finely chopped Celery * ¼ teaspoon Worcestershire Sauce * pinch of dried Thyme * pinch of ground Sage * pinch of Cayenne pepper * chopped Green Onions

Instructions:

For hens: Preheat oven to 375-degrees.

Hen wings carefully secured with toothpicks; ankle bones tied together with string.

Mix salt, pepper, paprika, thyme, sage, and cayenne in a small bowl. Rub over hens. Brush with butter. Arrange hens breast side up on a rack in roasting pan.

My idea; in hopes of cutting out grease spatters on my recently cleaned oven.

Cook 20 minutes. Baste with drippings. Cook until hens are brown and meat thermometer registers 180 – about 1 hour … could be 1-1/2 hours, depending on the oven used.

After slipping the hens into the oven, I cleaned up: a LOT of paper towels, soapy hand washing, and bleach solution were used on hands and surfaces while getting the birds oven-ready – I am a clean freak with food prep. Especially with chicken and pork.

While the hens baked, I gathered gravy ingredients.

After an hour, the hens were flipped to brown the backsides; also, there was blood in the cavity drippings, so I added another 30 minutes cooking time.

Remove hens from oven and transfer to a heated platter and tent with foil.

Baked hens resting while I made the gravy; toothpicks were removed.

For gravy: Spoon 2 Tablespoons of fat from the roasting pan into a heavy medium saucepan. Heat over low heat. Add flour and stir until roux is light brown – about 4 minutes.

Degrease pan drippings; add stock to roasting pan with drippings and bring to a boil, scraping up any browned bits. Set aside. Add vegetables to roux and cook until tender, stirring occasionally – about 10 minutes. Whisk in pan drippings and all remaining ingredients except green onions. Cook, over low heat until thickened to consistency of whipping cream, stirring occasionally – about 20 minutes.

SMELLED SO GOOD!

Spoon some gravy over game hens. Garnish with green onions. Serve, passing gravy.

REDNECK CORONAVIRUS PROTECTION

2 HIKES IN 1 DAY

The media has whipped people into hysterical frenzies over this coronavirus thing.

America is practically shut down, political candidates and media host pundits are dangerously politicizing the ordeal, and I’ve heard from friends that families have actually gotten into divisional conflicts that ruin family unity: it’s like the frigging Civil War Era.

Parents of young children are scared, Senior Citizens are freaking out, Scientists and political candidates are spinning bullshit in a twisted frenzy of frustrated cluelessness that is meant to sooth … and only scares the hell out of those already hysterical with fear.

NO ONE KNOWS the answer – and yet, everyone seems to have an answer they insist President Trump implement asap.

And if they can’t get President Trump to listen to their fearful suggestions, they will attack anyone within earshot.

They are operating on fear.

Rationality has flown.

It doesn’t take much for someone to get their panties in a twist and start snapping like an enraged goose.

The argument started with a reply to an innocent and humorous post … and went south in a hurry when disagreement reared its head. Things went from ‘It's an unknown cold’ - to - ‘it’s mutated strand of SARS' - hmmm ... SARS is a mutated strand of the 1950's coronavirus, which is a bit more than a cold; the argument is loop reasoning which is illogical and aimless.

I replied with scientific facts that tied the two together – I can read. I can understand what I am reading. I can comprehend what is being stated.

But, what do I - an aging haus frau - know?

Apparently, nothing.

My husband died 15 months/2 days/13 hours and 39 minutes ago from stress induced-pancreatitis with MRSA and respiratory complications – both picked up in the hospitals. For all I know, Bob may have contacted a form of coronavirus in his Peace Health hospital room when a nurse roomed a desperately ill man with a case of pneumonia that had him destined for OHSU stat – that seriously pissed me off because Bob was in a very fragile medical state at that time: that man should not have been anywhere near Bob. I, myself, came home from OHSU after Bob’s spirit left this Earth, with a severe case of influenza.

So, I know WHAT these illnesses ARE.

I do not need to be snarkily schooled by someone who empties bedpans and changes sheets in a nursing home.

I got the news of my husband’s physical decline from actual physicians and surgeons.

I watched my husband die.

I KNOW WHAT THESE ILLNESSES ARE.

‘Coronavirus and MRSA are completely different: one’s respiratory and the other is in the blood stream – I’m a health care worker, I’m pretty sure I know what I’m talking about and what we’re dealing with’. (MRSA of human coronavirus OC43 has been dated to the 1950’s – PLENTY OF TIME FOR A VACCINE TO HAVE BEEN MADE); but she was highly agitated and self-righteously upset … I gave her a pass, and signed off with love before things were said that couldn’t be unsaid.

Again … IT’S THE SAME VIRUS, morphing into separate attack modes. It’s a virus that acts like cancer.

I may not be a health care worker … but I do KNOW HOW to read and comprehend WHAT I am reading. {EX: ‘In humans, coronaviruses can cause respiratory tract infections that can be mild, such as some cases of the common cold (among other possible causes, predominantly rhinoviruses), and other infections that can be lethal, such as SARS, MERS, and COVID-19. There are not yet any vaccines or antiviral drugs to prevent or treat human coronavirus infections}. Even if she truly meant MRSA, which is a staph infection, only seriously ill people get struck with it … “seriously ill” as in weakened by lengthy hospitalizations, nursing home environments, and the coronavirus – loop argument, again. Plus, MRSA is treatable if caught in time: coronavirus is not; coronavirus jumps ‘cures’. And if a person is so weakened by the virus that their body does into shutdown, treatment for MRSA is moot.

Coronavirus is uncurable. Like cancer.

How long have scientists been working in a cure for cancer?

There is no cure because cancer mutates; cancer will always jump ‘cures’.

Science promises much more than it can ever deliver.

People do not want to face realities – they want to be lied to: lies are easier to live with that truths.

I prefer truth.

I don't put too much faith in the government/scientific low-downs laced with placating lies.

This coronavirus has been around since at least the 1950's. Basic hygiene, healthy meals, chewing raw garlic, drinking green tea ... and Kerry's always present Oil of Oregano, sunshine, and fresh air actually does work ... I already avoid as many people as possible; I'm good.

Other FB Pages were bitching about how capitalism is the plague that spawned the coronavirus; and socialism is the only cure.

FB is overrun by irrational ridiculousness. This coronavirus and how to tackle it is NOT ABOUT MONEY – it’s a fucking V.I.R.U.S. people! And it doesn’t care who it attacks: rich or poor … people are gonna die. It thumbs its nose at $$$$$$. Throwing $$$$$$ at it, and following a particular socialist politician won’t stop it.

ANYONE WHO ACTUALLY BELIEVES SOCIALISM IS THE ANSWER IS RETARDING THEMSELVES.

They may not like Capitalism, and that is their prerogative – in America, people have the right to be stupid and immature; but the willingness to retard oneself should not be foisted on the general public. It certainly should not be considered witty or enlightened.

Socialism is not the answer to what the world is experiencing. Viruses come and go – people die. That is sad, but a sad truth should not cloud a sad reality: in countries where socialism has gotten a foothold, people still die. And those that survive have NO HOPE OF REBOUNDING OR THRIVING.

ASK YOURSELF THIS QUESTION: If countries that embrace socialism are so damned wonderful … WHY ARE PEOPLE TRYING TO FLEE THEM TO COME TO AMERICA?

They are trying to come because they WANT WHAT WE HAVE.

THEY WANT WHAT ONLY CAPITALISM CAN GIVE THEM: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness (aka: a chance at making big bucks which led to a better life that socialism cannot give them). Isn’t it strange how the people who scream for socialism and cry about the evils of capitalism, crave wealth and prestige?

Don’t listen to politicians who are politicizing this horrible ordeal to hoodwink the clueless into a retarded mindset that will ruin lives and destroy our Country – that is what they want. Once they have you, they will use you-abuse you-and discard you. Ask those in socialist countries who are appealing to leave socialist countries.

Nothing in life is for free.

Death comes to everyone.

Socialism will not stop death – but it sure as hell stops life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

And the squalor of socialism – as can clearly be seen in every sanctuary state, in forms of filthy living, and piling up feces in the streets, leads to unsanitary living conditions for everyone: and THAT leads to pandemics when illness and disease get a foothold.

I am not going to spend the remaining years of my life arguing with anyone – about anything … especially when they prefer arrogant ignorance to logical realities.

At this point in my life, when people start their ridiculous ‘I’m right – you’re wrong’ drama, I’ll practice what Bob used to do … go for a walk to cool off.

It’s not worth the engagement.

Fresh air.

Sunshine..

Getting away from the pandemic "rain".

I started my Pennsylvania Street Dike Hike at 2:00 PM; we always enjoyed walking here and watching the wildlife - ducks, otters, turtles, and herons.

Bob, me, and grandson watching a Great Blue Heron. July 28^th, 2018.

Otter. February 2, 2017

Bob pointed out turtles sunning, to us. April 21, 2018.

A fuzzy-wuzzy caterpillar. April 21, 2018.

Guy talk. April 21, 2018. 4 months later there would be no more memories to be made.

Babies! April 30, 2018.

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/10/begging-off-holidays.html).

All I saw today were a variety of ducks and some buzzards:

A pair of Hooded Merganser ducks.

A pair of Mallard ducks.

2 Male Mallard ducks.

2 Male Tufted ducks - they have blue bills; I don't know why the blue is not showing, but the duck bills are a medium baby blue color.

A family on the other side of the slough used to hang over their porch rail and chat with us while we fed homemade bread heels to the ducks; I haven’t been doing this hike for a while, so I’m not sure if the family still lives here – they may not recognize me without Bob, and little handsome.

Next time I walk the Dike Hike walk, I’ll have to bring that bag of bread heels that have been in the freezer since August 2018.

Bob won’t be coming back.

Neither will our little prince; he so enjoyed throwing the heels to the ducks and watching them gobble them up. But, those days are over now: now, it’s just me doing my solo lobo thing …

Just around the bend of the trail, a wild Crab Apple trees is in full bloom:

It was a beautiful day today; not a cloud in the sky. 54-degrees, and pretty warm while walking :-D

A bright orange bush – just a few paces ahead, I reached the end of the gravel trail, and turned to head back to car.

Around 2:30 PM, just as I reached the end of the gravel trail and started backtracking – Pam called and asked me to meet her at Willow Grove for the trail walk; I agreed … and started walking faster.

Coming into the final stretch near the car, a big dark bird swooping and swirling on the air waves caught my eye – I tried to discern what type of bird it was: it didn’t resemble an eagle … and it wasn’t a duck. It was too big to be a raven, too …

Saw an Eagle; I wasn't sure what it was, until I viewed the video later at home, and clearly saw the white ...

Buzzards.

Looks like the old mansion, off Old Pacific Highway, is being remodeled.

I was thankful when the car came into view – I haven’t speed walked in a long time – my hips, thighs, and feet were feeling the burn ;-)

I took the Old Pacific Highway backroad to Coal Creek, and crossed Ocean Beach Highway; getting to the Willow Grove Boat Launch parking lot at 3:10 PM.

Mt. St. Helens was showing herself today, against the blue and cloudless sky:

Mt. St. Helens. Seen from Willow Grove Boat Launch Parking Lot.

Mt. St. Helens. Seen from upper Trail loop at Willow grove.

The Willow Grove trail walk was as enjoyable this afternoon, as it was yesterday afternoon :-D

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/03/sundayfunday-8-willow-grove-trail-walk.html)

And it was nice to walk with a friend ;-)

Mt. St. Helens. Seen from Industrial Way Road & Willow Grove Road junction on way home.

By 3:45 PM., I was parking in my carport.

Yawning heavily and deeply by 8:39 P.M.

Trusting Elohei with my life, and sleeping like a baby at midnight ;-)

SUNDAY~FUNDAY #8 – WILLOW GROVE TRAIL WALK

I woke up this morning thinking I needed to get out of the house, and get some fresh air. My first thought was to drive to Fishhawk Falls; Bob and I had gone there every February and March for decades. We had taken our grandchildren there too when they were with us …

Bob. 2015

The trillium's would still be blooming. I love this forest flower.

… but then I remembered Pam, (when she and Cheryl were here Thursday), telling me that a gravel trail for walking had been laid down out at Willow Grove Park on the banks of the Columbia River; so I decided to go there instead and check it out.

I’m glad I did :-D

As I was leaving the house, and locking the door, I noticed that a folded letter had been taped to the inside of the door jamb – had to be early this morning, because it wasn’t there last night when I put the garbage out around 8 PM. I opened it, and read it on my way to the car …

Important to know; and I’ve edited the private phone numbers that were included …

Willow Grove is only a hop, skip, and a jump from my castle ;-)

The graveled trail began just this side of the main roadway; the weather was cool, with a brisk river wind – but it wasn’t unpleasant, so I started walking:

Halfway up the upriver end of the new trail, I spotted a kite hopelessly stuck in a tree; where it will no doubt remain until the river winds whip it into tattered bits.

I also chatted briefly with other walkers; and spotted some unusual trees at the edge of the trail (at first glance, I thought they were overgrown rhododendrons – but the leaves threw me: then I noticed the red trunks), where it curved to wind along the river side of the Park …

“A snow white kite to say ‘I love you’ for all to read”:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rQAm4wcK0vo

After admiring the bleeding trees (and remembering all the things Bob told me about Yew trees); I picked my coffee mug up off the sand I’d sunk it into while studying the trees and taking pictures … and hailed a fella walking the trail; and asked him if the trail looped the Park. He was friendly and said, ‘Yes, the trail loops the Park just before the Boat Launch area and winds back.’ I thanked him, and we went our opposite ways.

As I was crossing the parking lot to walk the other side of the trail, my ears caught the sound of a coughing jet ski. It seemed to me to be a bit too chilly to be in the water on a jet ski, but then I am a 63-year-old woman … not a 17-year-old male:

I’m thinking I may make this trail a weekly {thing}: and that surprised me because I am not a beachy type of person – I prefer the mountains and rural farmlands. But things change.

A LOT has changed since Bob graduated to life beyond the clouds.

And it all takes getting used to.

It kinda makes me a little skittish the way my sleeping pattern has morphed into Bob’s sleeping pattern; and now, I’m starting to feel a connection and comfort with the river. It’s a weird feeling to me.

I could get used to walking this trail quite a bit; I never really liked walking around Lake Sacajawea. Bob did – and I would go with him, but I prefer more laid back places with a naturalistic vibe to it.

And I saw the snowy spine of a mountain range in the distance. That made me happy :-D

Halfway down the downriver trail, I came to the Park area Bob & I, and our grandson last spent time together here. I had to steel myself to walk past it without breaking down …

LOTS of memories in this spot – my ears could almost hear Bob’s laughter, and encouraging words to our grandson … on the wind that blew past me.

Bob & I, and our grandson; at Willow Grove. July 27th, 2018. Talking with Bob's niece, Michelle, and her son Nicky Bobby. Our grandson is the only child Bob never taught to swim - Bob was called Home to Heaven before that could take place.

I was walking so fast with my head down, that I failed to notice I had seriously overshot the return loop curve.

When I looked up, I saw that I had reached the upper end of the entire Park:

The view of Mt. St. Helen’s, & the distant mountain range, will make this walk enjoyable for my mountain starved eyes, and psyche.

Headed back upriver – and to my parked car – I spotted a clump of punky tree trunks: it was clear, even from a distance, that the removal of those trees had been necessary; and of course, I had to go off-trail to get a closer look ;-)

A bit further along, I saw another Yew tree …

Yew Trees are reported to be poisonous trees.

Walking and lifting my coffee mug to my mouth, I spotted a couple setting up their RV.

And I remembered that Pam had mentioned too, that her husband Frank & their son Shaun, who fish out at Willow Grove, told her that it looked like there may be an RV area being considered out there.

My curiosity was aroused:

So, because I’m not shy – and I was curious – I went over to talk to the campers; and asked them if the Park is allowing RVr’s now. They said, no; RVr’s are not allowed, but they are Park Hosts … employed to make sure Park rules are obeyed. They will be on site for 2 years; then someone else will replace them. They also said that around 3 PM, Security will also be on site. All that made me feel good about walking solo out at Willow Grove.

The whole trail loop was about 45 minutes long … it took me an hour to complete, because I overshot one end of the loop, stopped to inspect leaves and dead stumps; and chit-chat with other walkers, and Park Hosts, along the trail ;-)

I really did enjoy my Sunday~Funday today; even if it was quite close to home.

When I got back home, I got Bob’s carved ball-n-chain out, and fingered it … remembering the day he brought it home from work to show me, and to tell me that his grandfather had taught him how to carve this interesting thing. Henry had given Bob his carving tools – and Bob carried them to work with him, and carved on his lunch hour, and when there was a lull in activity on the landing. Bob’s family has artistic flair, from his mother to his youngest brother; and Bob was artistic in his own right.

Bob – about 2 or 3 years old, with his Grandfather, Henry Smalley. Rosburg, WA. 1951-52 guesstimate.

Bob. 1974

Bob. 1976

This work is Bob’s first Ball-n-Chain. He did it by memory of what his grandfather had explained to him and showed him. Yew trees shed their bark, leaving a brilliant red trunk and limbs that make the tree appear to be bleeding. The wood is tough, strong, rot resistant, and it is also resistant to insect attack. It is reported that all parts of Yew trees are poisonous and will cause irritation to eyes, skin, and respiratory issues. The tree is supposed to cause nausea, headache, and cardiac effects. It is said that one should exercise care when working with this wood species – but as you saw in the video I posted, where I touched the leaves … and you can see in this video that my husband touched the wood quite a bit while carving it (and I have touched this thing for 44 years), yew wood was not “toxic” to us …

Bob carved this Ball-n-Chain from a solid piece of yew wood; starting with the interlocking chains first. The process is not as simple as it looks.

Around 3 PM, I received a text from my niece Sara: “FYI. All my loads are canceled at work. We aren’t getting anything in. So if you need stuff, get what you can now.”

So, I got back into my car and went after water, coffee, and eggs. And bleach because I wipe my sinks and countertops with a 50-50 solution of bleach and water; I’ve done this ever since Stacey was hospitalized at 3 with an autoimmune defect: she’s 45 now, so it’s been a long time I’ve been doing this. It’s habit.

I met our great-niece, Haley (Bob's nephew, Kasey's pretty daughter), and her friend, as I was entering Winco, and they were exiting – I hugged her, and she hugged me back before the thought kicked in that we should bump elbows or toes. We both laughed as we ended the hug. Some habits are hard to break even under dire circumstances.

Walking into the stores was like walking into stores after the Apocalypse!

No kidding.

Good thing I did not need meat, toilet paper, or paper towels … THERE WERE NONE (paper napkins were scarce); baby wipes were gone. Milk gone. Juices gone. Potatoes were gone too. I was favored to find eggs and bleach. Water and coffee were still in plentiful supply when I left the stores.

It was almost eerie walking through stores that echoed with the emptiness.

And spiked summertime price is to be paid at the gas pump.

While I was uploading my videos and pics in preparation for this post; I glanced at the settling dusk, and saw an alligator swimming across the sky ;-)

7.10 PM. I glanced out the right side window in my livingroom, and this cloud with dangling ‘feet’ caught my eye.

I like watching the nighttime sky; I wish it were dark enough here to see the Milky Way – but it’s not. The skyline is so lit up with street lamps when full dark comes on, that even seeing stars is a hit and miss event.

Aside from the swimming alligator cloud, tonight’s sky was full of pink tinged clouds - the skyscape had many different looks to it when viewed from different angles. Pretty cool:

7.20 PM. Over Tiffany's house. Straight across windows

7.20 PM. Looking towards the Lewis and Clark Bridge spanning the Columbia River between Longview, WA & Rainier, OR. area. Left side windows

7.21 PM. The ‘alligator’ had – in the span of 11 minutes – morphed into a regular cloud again, as the sun slipped over the river’s horizon; looking towards Willow grove area

From start to finish, this Sunday~Funday has been f.u.n. Even doomsday pandemic hysteria couldn’t tamp down the joy I found in simple things that buoyed my spirit :-D