Jan 3: EDLM
When I wake up, hanging somewhere in the background, is a memory of a dream about trying to get a mattress our of a small space at my grandmother’s, who died in the mid-90s. No idea where that came from. The cat is curled up between me and my wife, and so I go back to sleep on and off for a while, sleeping in and letting my wife get our breakfast. I get it on the weekdays, so I love when she does it on the weekend.
My current breakfast is peanut butter toast and blueberries—and effort to improve on my penchant for sweet breakfasts that are really desserts. (Muffins are not cupcakes, for the record. They are an entirely different genre). Yesterday, we had a big discussion about groceries. We’ve mostly been doing Instacart, but we’ve always been a bit unhappy about their business practices, and my wife absolutely hates shopping for groceries on their website. Still, we don’t feel great about going to the store in person when mask use is a bit spotty and now there’s ANOTHER strain of COVID that seems to be more contagious. After some angsty discussion, we decided this was an opportunity to add some joy back into groceries by finding new vendors for some common items. That was yesterday. The result is today’s breakfast toast is a delicious locally made piece of French bread we ordered from a local baker, the Bearded Baker, who dropped off our order last night. Angst sometimes leads to good decisions.
During breakfast, we try out some soft piano music on our new fancy speakers. I was getting frustrated by the sound on our TV and how for some shows the background music overpowers the speaking and I have to turn on subtitles. I don’t think my hearing is that bad. So, I tasked my wife with new sound and she went all out for the house. We now have a speaker on each end table and until the rest of the setup arrives, the bed is the best place for music.
I’m trying to engage in non-fiction reading during breakfast, and today I’m reading a book called “The History of America in Ten Strikes,” which I started on Labor Day. I put it down for a while, but picked it back up, and this morning I read about sit-ins at factories in the 1930s. Several things have struck me throughout this book—one is just how dangerous not only working conditions were, but also the strikes themselves. I feel like we’ve romanticized them, but police and employers killed a lot of people when they were striking and not much changed initially. The Flint sit-down strikes, though, came at a time when government officials who supported unions and labor rights were in power, and that made all the difference. I don’t know whether to be discouraged or inspired by this book. On one hand, a lot of ordinary people made a very big difference; on the other, they still couldn’t do it without support from those in power. I hope that the Democrats win in the run offs in Georgia….
Finally, I start getting ready for the day. I’m finally feeling not having a haircut since March. My curly hair grows incredibly slowly and doesn’t need cut frequently. I usually only go 2-3 times a year. But it’s feeling dry and tangled as I attempt to run my conditioner-filled fingers through it in the shower. It causes flashbacks to my childhood. For some reason, I didn’t get my hair cut at all until 4th grade, and I have memories of being on my mother’s lap as she worked through it with a brush and “No More Tangles” spray.
On today’s task list is deciding on my Stitch Fix order. They sent me an entire box of jeans since I mentioned wanting new jeans. A burnt orange pair that fit well and was totally my style was an easy yes, but I’m still debating some of the others. The stuff they send is expensive but so good. I decide to get a pair that is super comfortable and a color I don’t have, even though they are a little long on me. When I get back to wearing shoes, they’ll be fine. Then I get the rest prepared to send back and start a new load of laundry with the new jeans. Stich Fix is a super easy process and has been very good during the pandemic since I’m not exactly going clothes shopping right now.
Cats are creatures of habit (as am I), and so once I’m ready for the day, S. insists it’s time for the “Ball on the stairs” game. Cats don’t fetch, but if you throw the ball up the stairs, then they don’t need to, you see. She just runs after it and bats it back down to me. Or sometimes she grabs it in her teeth and runs back down with it, in which case, I guess cats do fetch.
On weekdays I write in the mornings on my book. I’ve decided to implement non-work writing on at least one weekend morning. But I left this book chapter so close to being done—and it was my goal to be done with it by the new year—so I spend about 2 hours finishing it, even though it’s a Sunday. Then I save it and total my progress—28,000 words of this book, which feels good, though I worry about finishing. There’s still a lot to write.
For lunch, I heat up leftover carrot soup and some more delicious French bread, and sneak a cookie. Or two. I got the cookbook 100 Cookies for Christmas, and I’ve already made a brown sugar cookie recipe. I work on planning my meals for the week. I should clean the house today, but I don’t want to. So, I take a pretty lazy afternoon and a very not-needed nap.
In the news today, Trump had a long phone call with the Secretary of State of Georgia trying to tell him to find more votes and some Republicans are still fighting this election. It’s concerning to put it mildly. Not that I think Trump will overturn it, but more so that there’s going to be a population who really believe this bullshit, and I don’t know what that means for the future. Meanwhile, Twitter is buzzing with outrage over a guy who apparently let his 9-year old daughter struggle with a can-opener for 6 hours unwilling to let her eat until she opened a can of beans herself (#BeanDad). So, that’s the world we live in. Almost like the magical flipping of the New Year didn’t change anything. But maybe January 20th will…
I’ve never had two cats as affectionate as these two. S plops on top of D as he’s sleeping on the couch and gives him a long bath, and he mostly seems to just keep sleeping. I watch them a bit and google “why do cats lick each other?” The Internet confirms it’s a bonding/affection thing, which I figured. It also says a cat might groom another who is sick or not feeling well, which I just always worry about because D is an old man now. But he seems fine, and S seriously knows no personal boundaries. Or any boundaries. I take things out for dinner, and after leaving the room for a minute, I come back to her dragging a package of hamburger buns across the room. Sigh.
Dinner is an experiment. I’m trying burgers with impossible meat. I’m really interested in the new developments in meatless meat. Ethically, I’d like to not eat meat. Actually, ethically I’d probably be like a colleague of mine who only eats meat he personally kills—but I’m pretty sure I could never kill anything, so, that puts a big damper in that philosophy for me. Anyway, I do not like vegetables, in general. I don’t usually seek out meat substitutes and when I’ve had them I’ve hated them. (Remember: a mushroom burger at a restaurant is not the same as a burger with mushrooms!) But impossible meat is supposed to act and taste just like meat. Everything says to cook it just like meat. So, I do everything I’d normally do to make burgers. It looks like meat, and generally cooks up like a burger. It does stick to the pan a bit more and is a little stickier in general. And then the big test… biting in. Damn. It tastes good. The texture is a tad different here, but it tastes like meat. Impressive. Delicious. And I feel pleasantly full without that gross feeling I usually get after a big burger. Hmm. I’m not ready to replace all my meat, but I’d do this again. I wonder if this diary gets read years from now will we really make our meat in a lab? Or at least a lot of it. I personally think that would be great. I’ve added a picture—looks like a burger, right?
We watched the first episode of Season 2 of the Mandalorian, which was fine. I’m not raving about the show as a whole, but I’m also not a Star Wars fan. Seems like it’s often just an excuse to make cool creatures, which I suppose there’s something to be said for. This one they fight a giant worm like out of Dune.
After feeding the cats and cleaning up dinner, my wife, E., reads to me from Rhythm of War. This is the fourth book in Brandon Sanderson’s Stormlight Archive series. E. started reading to me in the car years ago and read the first book in this series. This was the series that really got me back into reading for fun, and reading fantasy. The books are super long. This one is a hefty 1,232 pages. But we still read them together, and I don’t think I could do them any other way now because E. has all the character voices, and it’s just a joy.
Finally, I do some cleaning after that, and get the bathroom done. If it weren’t now 8:30 p.m., I’d probably do the rest of the house. Why is it so hard to get started sometimes on literally anything? I don’t even really mind cleaning, especially listening to music or podcasts while I do. In this case, I’m specifically listening to a friend’s 2020 playlist for new songs to add to my list. One I like is “Ivy” from one of Taylor Swift’s new albums. She’s been huge this year (well, last year). I wonder: does everyone think of their past when they listen to music? These lyrics definitely remind me of falling in love with E:
“Oh, I can’t
My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand
Taking mine, but it’s been promised to another
Oh, I can’t
Stop you putting roots in my dreamland
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I’m covered”
The other song that catches my attention is called “Habits” by Hannah Georgas. It’s all about being left with nothing but bad habits after a relationship, and it makes me sad. There was something earlier—I can’t even remember what but I was starting to do something to help with the trash and then didn’t and E. asked why and I expressed that I was afraid of her getting mad at the way I did it or something to that effect—and it was one of those moments where I realize my old reactions—bad habits—having had relationships where I’d be chastised for something ridiculous like doing the trash wrong. And at this point, I feel like that’s all that’s left of those 13 years of my life—those habits. I mark the song to save it, but I’m not sure if I really want to or not.
“Ball on the stairs” must be played again. S. is very spoiled, and demands this game more than once per day. This time the game ends when I miss the stairs completely and she takes B-A-L-L, as we call it, to her water bowl. Now that was a behavior we hadn’t seen before S. But apparently cats sometimes see their food and water as their spot and store their things there.
Before bedtime, I do some yoga. I used to go to classes once a week, but I’m trying to build up my home practice, which has always been lacking. At least the pandemic motivates me to do this type of thing at home, and I found a YouTube Channel I like with the Iyengar style of yoga, which is still my favorite. I haven’t found a teacher that does only that style since I lived in Raleigh 20 years ago and first learned yoga. This channel is two British women, so the accents are delightful. Iyengar is all about getting into the right position and alignment with props to help if you can’t get there (and most of us can’t). And then you hold poses and make subtle changes, which I really like. I’m fascinated how little changes make a difference. So, this video is about 20 minutes, 4 poses, uses a chair, a belt, and blocks. That’s typical. I add on a few poses I already know as well.
My bedtime reading habit means opening my third book for the day. Me of several years ago wouldn’t believe it. This one is what’s called “hard fantasy,” which I just looked up because I wasn’t sure how to categorize this book. Apparently hard fantasy is fantasy in a more realistic world, or something like that. Wikipedia doesn’t really seem to know. There isn’t really any magic, but it reads like fantasy, so I guess that’s it? Anyway, it’s a book with much political intrigue and maneuvering, which I’m enjoying. But tonight’s chapter someone died of the plague, so that’s not cool. Come on, escapism, not fair.