Cloister Commentary, Day 9: Remaining Bacon

This was the final weekend of our “Spring Break.” Right. Break as in we are trying not to.

Yesterday, we decided to treat the day as if we were really on vacation. We had a terrific late breakfast of fried potatoes, poached eggs, grapefruit, and bacon. I am the bacon fryer, and fry it to the George Frissell Honorary Crispy Level of almost-burnt. In addition, we tried the mysterious Maker’s White in a Bloody Mary, and that didn’t work so well. We switched to our favorite vodka, Buffalo Trace’s Wheatley’s, for the next one, but we spaced them out. Our breakfast was backed by Rhino Records’ outstanding girl group comps, and that went over so well we just keep rockin’ the girl groups into the late afternoon. Good for what ails you!

After reading for several hours (yes, we would normally be reading on a spring break), we switched to the long-running BBC podcast, Desert Island Discs, and greatly enjoyed the Bruce Springsteen and Keef Richards episodes. I have struggled at many junctures with the Jersey Flash, but I have also loved him mightily at many others. What it’s come down to is the great Band line about Spike Jones: “I can’t take the way he sings / But I love to hear him talk.”

We couldn’t roll with our peeps, but we could check on them. I texted my homies Brock Boland, Choppito Blanco, Janet Marsh and Moncory Dampier to see how they were doing. I recommend it to you as a daily practice.

I had fried all nine pieces of our remaining bacon in the morning so we could properly say farewell, we hope permanently, to that magical but problematic meat with a BLT for dinner. Slathered with Blue Plate mayo, accompanied by Backer’s sour cream and onion chips and Wickles’ Wicked Garden Mix (you haven’t lived til you’ve tasted sweet-hot pickled cauliflower), these BLTs were the bomb.

16oz-Wickles-WickedGardenMix-v3_445x600

We had intended to “hang out” with the Ragtag crew and virtually enjoy GHOST RIDER, then “split” to “check out” stellar Hickman grad Shea Spence’s band’s virtual concert–but, alas, it was not to be. We had arisen before the crack of dawn and went down like a cheetah hit by one of Stan’s tranquilizer darts. And we are, I think it’s called, OLD.

Streaming for Shut-Ins: a mesmerizing modern girl group album.

Cloister Commentary, Day 10: Frontier Bath

When things break or misfire these days, you can’t just run out heedlessly and replace ’em or get ’em fixed. Well, you COULD…but I prefer to at least hold my horses, which I do not find easy. Thus, yesterday, since our shower hose sprung a leak, I felt like a frontiersman, sitting in the tub rinsing the soap out of my hair with a Sub Shop cup. And, despite all the help YouTube could give, I could not get my garage door opener back in business after Friday’s power outage, so I had to open and shut it manually a few times yesterday to let out our indoor/outdoor feline Tux–that boy needs a cat door. It seemed familiar: I was born just early enough to experience life without remotes.

I’m writing these so later I can remember how we got through it, and also to possibly entertain you, but it frequently occurs to me that our not having children makes the task so much easier. Far from sitting back gloating, having taught children for almost 60 years between us, Nicole and I can understand how difficult it must be (but also, I am sure, a frequent delight) to have to help the youth through this from sun up to sunset. We start remote teaching in earnest today, but this is one spring break that isn’t going to be over for awhile. Keep calm and carry on.

Streaming for Shut-Ins: the great songwriter with a smile in his voice, John Prine, is in critical condition due to COVID-19. If you don’t know him, why not sample his first album and send him vibrations of strength?

Cloister Commentary, Day 11: Early Bird Swing

It was back to work yesterday, so our routine became firmer. I’m sharing it mostly so, when we look back, I can remember it, but maybe it can be useful to others, and I’m certainly curious about what effective aspects of your routine might be. Did I post this before? I’m suffering from Coronamind.

We rise very early. First priority is getting coffee brewing. Second priority is attending to pets: outdoor cats fed and watered, dog let out if he hasn’t already gotten us up, indoor pets fed and watered and litter boxes cleaned–plus two of our pets require meds.

Then, meditation. Following that, Nicole usually reads and I observe on-line rituals. Breakfast for us is usually oatmeal, eggs, and/or peanut butter toast (I am suddenly and inexplicably eating grapefruit). We often tend to our Benjamin Franklin-style journals at the kitchen table.

After subjecting ourselves to the hot liquid goo cleaning phase, we both will try to squeeze in a house project. Yesterday I weeded our roses and Nicole organized the notorious cabinets above the washer and dryer. Projects are accompanied by music on headphones for me and Democracy Now or an audiobook for Nicole. Following that, blinds up, joy lights plugged in, and bears in the window!

We are both working from home. Trisected by a tea break and lunch, our next engagement is with our computers dealing with email, communicating with and/or teaching students (I am hosting a Zoom meeting this morning that I hope not to eff up), writing content, tutoring and editing, checking grades, and more until the afternoon.

If the weather’s nice, we walk the dog. Yesterday, we got to talk with two neighbors and one of the neighbors’ kids who were out in their yards, which, along with the sunshine, was a highlight. I also do most of my reading in this gap.

Nicole starts dinner around 4ish–“Early Bird Special,” I know, but like I said, we get up very early, so it’s like 6 for most people, I suppose–and after we eat and I clean up, we watch the local and national news. We are on strict COVID-19 study-discuss-fret diet of only 5 to 7 pm (very hard to stick to and we often fail), after which we can read, watch something good, play cards, listen to music, or just be.

To shut ‘er down, we say goodnight to the cats (two are in a dedicated room so the kitten doesn’t drive everyone insane and one comes inside for the night), the dog goes out one last time, and we drift to sleep after sharing the best thing that happened to each of us during the day.

Should anything unplanned interrupt this routine, WE JUST FREAKING LOSE IT! INSTANT F—ING WIRE (as my friend Greg Carlin used to yell)!!

Seriously, we’ve been dealing with the unexpected pretty well. We hope you have, too.

Streaming for Shut-Ins: I just stumbled across Tracy Chapman’s “For My Lover” (my favorite of her songs), and that in turn led me to this: