Have Shields, Will Travel

Four months buried in the ‘burbs, this RoadBroad needed a break.

Off to The City — that’s Houston, by the way — I drove, my trunk bearing sack loads of face shields. Each was destined for other broads, all writers like me.

We Wednesday Writers “talk” weekly to share stories either written or read in the previous six days. Yes, it’s a Zoom chat — what else is there nowadays?

Each visit renews my life. Literally. And connection matters.

During last week’s screen visit, I casually mentioned a recent find: face shields, available by the table‐full at a local store.

What do they look like?”

The question landed in multiple. I tried to describe: It’s a sheet of clear plastic that hangs below your chin, almost to your chest, with a blue plastic band that goes around your head.

I modeled mine then volunteered to gather more for those interested. On Sunday, I delivered, realizing on the way that the drive marked only my second trip into The City since March. Another first in 30‐plus years living here.

How many more firsts will I live? How many in this pandemic alone?

The next surprise came with when I saw my writer friends for our carefully‐planned, all‐masked, mostly‐distanced reunion.

Happy.

No hugs.

Sad.

I learned it’s hard to stay physically away from people I care about. It’s triple‐hard when it’s several people.

I learned real human connection delivers a buzz that nothing else can. That buzz amplifies the more I connect with others in person as evidenced by another friend reunion later that day.

Maybe that’s my Big Learning from this entire coronoavirus pandemic: relationships really do matter to me, the self‐proclaimed, fiercely fiesty, independent creature.

Pandemic Road: Week 17

Last I wrote, I was on the cusp of beginning a 10‐day writing intensive retreat. I had planned on doing this in Boulder, Colorado and sharing the glories of a road trip with my faithful readers. However, thanks to Covid‐19, the road trip turned into a zoom fest. I imagined the flat irons every time I logged on for a meeting.

While it wasn’t as scenic as actually being there, I did get a lot of writing done. So much so I wore out my printer. No problem, you might think. I thought I could get a printer today via curb side pickup. Silly, silly me. My dear friend and I looked up both Office Depot, Microcenter and Best Buy.

Apparently too many people are working from home and ink jet printers are nowhere to be found within the city limits of Houston. We even checked with Amazon and could not get the printer delivered in under 10 days. Great big expensive laser printers.….no problem. Practical, compact, inexpensive ink jet printers.…..no luck. So I ordered one that should arrive before the middle of July. I will keep my fingers crossed that my old and cheap printer will last.

This wouldn’t be a problem, except that I’ve just been invited to join a new critique group. It meets via zoom once a week and I need to be able to print out submissions so I can give feedback. I will figure out a way. I am honored to be included in this group and many thanks to Fern Brady, author and publisher for inviting me.

All this reminded me of how things have changed during the global pandemic. Tuesdays used to be the day that DF and I would enjoy culture from any of the local museums followed by a quiet and relaxing dinner at one of our many favorite restaurants. Bollo Woodfired Pizza was one of those establishments that we would visit.

Today we dined again at Bollo’s…virtually. We ordered the pizza by phone, picked it up and took it home. It’s amazing how easy it was! Have credit card, will charge!

Printer ink will be delivered tomorrow, critique group begins later this week, and the printer will show up soon.….I hope.

Please send positive thoughts to my old printer so it won’t die in the next 7 working days. If it does, I will come up with “Pandemic Printer Plan B”.

Until next week.……

Pandemic Road: Week 11

Beginning a blog post with a picture of beautiful Texas wild flowers might give you the impression that I’m going to write about another visit to the Houston Arboretum. That is in fact where all the pictures here were taken. However, that is not my topic of choice for today. I just have these really nice photographs of flowers and wanted to share them with you. With all of the walking I have been doing since this pandemic began, I have taken the time to really look at all of the flowers blooming all around me.

What I have also noticed during the past few weeks is how different it is now to eat dinner. While many of my friends talk about how much cooking and baking they’ve been doing, I have been ordering take out. I used to say that the best thing I ever made for dinner was reservations. My take out skills have developed significantly. My Dear Friend and I eat food from our favorite local restaurants approximately three times a week. We set an intention early on to support locally owned restaurants. Initially, we could walk into a restaurant and look at a menu. We would place a take out order and wait while it was prepared. Then restaurants turned more and more to pickup or curbside business where you have to order your food and pay for it online.

I have lost count of how many restaurant “accounts” I have now. Each of them have their own passwords. It is quite the challenge for this aging boomer to keep track of all this, but I am making a good and valiant effort. Also, I went into a restaurant yesterday and saw signs announcing that they no longer accept cash. Credit cards only accepted. Anywhere there is an opportunity to reduce human contact keeps both staff and customers that much safer.

Whenever I walk into any type of establishment now I make quick mental notes about their safety measures. Who is wearing masks and who is wearing gloves. How many times is the food handled by different people before it is handed to me. DF and I have a rule about only ordering food that has to be cooked. Then when we get it home, we transfer the food to my own plates and bowls. The final step is to microwave all food for 20 seconds just for good measure.

Add to this process the washing of hands at least twice and cleaning off the counter where the take out containers were placed. Whew! This is almost enough work to give me the incentive to learn how to cook. But I’m trying to not go too crazy during this strange time.

Now that restaurants are beginning to reopen, I know I will return to dine in service at some point. Just not yet. I will wait another month or two before venturing out into public too much. In the meantime, I am becoming very accustomed to online restaurant accounts and keeping up with all the passwords.

What new skills have you developed during the past couple of months?

Until next week.….….

When Voodoo Beats ‘Rona

I smiled at the fence and whispered, Ah, Dorothy, we’re not in Portland…” 


Memories of this infamous shade of pink — and the tasty product it telegraphs — drew DH and I to burst our bubble of coronavirus quarantine.

The lure?

Newest location of Voodoo Doughnut. In Houston.

As it’s been eight weeks since we’ve driven into The City, this road trip felt like an excursion into a foreign land. A first after 40+ years of Big H living.

We expected a repeat of our first Voodoo experience.

Portland, Oregon. Summer, 2018.

The locals swore a Must‐Do was sampling Portland doughnuts. Not a normal food choice for either of us. But DH and I share a hard travel rule: wherever, whatever, indulge as the natives do. Within reason, of course.

A two mile walk from our hotel, we discovered the Voodoo crowd: 

The never‐ending line outside Voodoo Doughnuts, Portland, OR (Image copyright, DSC_0242.jpg.)
Whatever you can doughnut, plus more.

Their wall‐mounted menu elicited a “Holy moly!” shriek. What you see to the left is one section of a three‐paneled menu.

Hard to see the variety. I remember what we ordered: Viscous Hibiscus, Blueberry Cake, Raspberry Romeo, Voodoo Doll, and School Daze PB&J. 

Good!” understates the divinity. 

But, truth is, the ensuing sugar rush hijacked my blogger’s eye and writer’s brain. And I no longer remember what else was on the menu — doughnuts or drinks. I do remember The Pink. 

The same Portland pink dominates the Houston store, too.

I smacked on these local bites of heaven but my eyes rebelled at all the Pepto‐Bismol pink.

Maybe that’s the point? 

A second point: after you eat your box of doughnuts (because who buys or eats only two or three Voodoos?), you need yummy tummy medicine! 

So, why not sell PB in your stores, Voodoo Doughnuts? A commission later?

Oh dear reader, I beg your forgiveness for my doughnut‐brain. This post does stink like a commercial. I promise the only green exchanged came from my own pocket. And it was a pricey grab: $2.80 per doughnut on average.

The second ouch! came two days later when I stepped on the scale. 

Alas. Must we always pay in both pennies and pounds?

Can’t we catch a break in these pandemic days?

Pandemic Road: Week Seven

OMG! Is it a witchy ninja or a ninja witch? Which witch? Bwahaha!

In case you haven’t guessed it by now, I use humor to deal with stress. I know the serious stuff is out there.…..especially now. There are many places where you can get all the serious news and information you want. I hope to make you smile.

Helping me to help you smile are two friends who sent me homemade face masks that I now use when I go out in public. Jan, from Colorado, sent me the ninja mask. Nora, from Texas, sent me the green and gold one that reminds me of spring and is shown below. Just in case you’re wondering, I haven’t (yet) worn the hat and cape with my ninja mask when I go outside. Maybe in October.

I also found the following story on social media. I don’t know who started it. I am just passing it along. Thanks to my friend, Constance from Texas, for helping me find this:

Just be careful because people are going crazy from being in lock down! Actually I’ve just been talking about this with the microwave and toaster while drinking coffee and we all agreed that things are getting bad. I didn’t mention anything to the washing machine as she puts a different spin on everything. Certainly not to the fridge as he is acting cold and distant. In the end the iron straightened me out as she said everything will be fine, no situation is too pressing. The vacuum was very unsympathetic…told me just to suck it up, but the fan was more optimistic and hoped it would all soon blow over! The toilet looked a bit flushed when I asked its opinion and didn’t say anything, but the door knob told me to get a grip. The front door said I was unhinged and the curtains told me to.….yes, you guessed it,.….pull myself together!

Jan, from Colorado, (who may have sewn a few too many face masks) responded with the following:

I am in constant conversation with this sewing machine, seems to be zigging rather than zagging. That, and I have been known to cuss out the fabric, in measured terms. As for the needles, I’ve been forced to speak rather sharply to them!

What can we learn from this bit of folly? (Other than some good hints as to the state of my mental health?) It’s good to have friends. You can stay in touch by text, Zoom, Skype, or just regular old phone calls. The important part is to stay in touch during these times of isolation. And try to laugh a little.

Until next week.….

Pandemic Road: Week Four, Part Two

Since I am spending extra time at home, I thought I would share a second weekly blog with you, my dear readers. You’re Welcome!

I had an exciting outing this morning. No, I didn’t break any of the rules for “staying home”. I took my cat, Hannah, to the vet. There’s nothing wrong with her. It was a routine visit and it got both her and I out of the house. I was much more excited about this than she was.

Of course, since we are in the middle of the pandemic, I can’t really say the visit was routine for me. Instead of walking into the lobby of the vet’s office, I parked my car in the parking lot. Then I called inside to the receptionist to let them know I was there. Minutes later a vet tech came out to my car, picked up the cat carrier and disappeared into a side door of the clinic. I waited outside while my little ball of fur was being treated. After a few minutes, the same vet tech brought Hannah in her carrier back out to my car. I called back in to the receptionist to make sure they had my credit card on file and drove away. During the drive home, Hannah kept looking at me as if I and all humans had lost our collective minds. Now that we are back home, Hannah is seeing her way to forgive me for disrupting her daily routine. A long nap in a sunny windowsill seems to be doing the trick.

I am reminded of a Facebook saying I saw this morning:

So You’re staying inside, practicing social distancing, and cleaning yourself? Congratulations my friend, you’ve become a house cat.

On the downside of the pandemic, I have received notice that two art exhibitions I had been selected to take part in this spring have been postponed, delayed, whatever until things return to normal. In the first instance I have a piece of collage art that was selected to display in an exhibition at Rice University. In the second instance I have an essay that was part of an art and literature exhibition at the Holocaust Museum Houston. Bummer, Bummer, Bummer.

Of course on the upside I am healthy and safe. All of my close friends and family are healthy and safe. I can still take long walks outside and I have started taking advantage of “Senior Shopping Hours”! Woo Hoo!

I hope all of you are staying safe, healthy and happy!

Until next week.……

Pandemic Road: Week Three

Last week I wrote about going out to eat at a restaurant where all patrons were spaced out, food was cooked. Wasn’t that nice? I really enjoyed it. Today as I walk around the neighborhood, I see many signs like this one. Many shops are closed. The gym that I like to attend is closed. Movie theaters are closed. The Houston Theatre District has ground to a halt.

This provides me with a challenge. What to do with myself?

I accept this challenge. I am finding things to do every day. Today I went to a mid‐day mindfulness meditation group. There were six of us and we spaced ourselves out and used hand sanitizer and no one sneezed or coughed. We did not hug each other as we usually do, but it felt good to be in this group of people who are all working our way through these times that are like no other.

Tuesday was St. Patrick’s Day. By then bars were closed and restaurants were open on a take out/delivery option only. I even tried to ask that if I walked into a restaurant and placed an order to go, could I get a drink at the bar. NONONO! Okay, you only have to tell me once. Apparently the local pandemic police are really strict about that. However, I want to support local businesses that may be hurting right now. So, I am happy to order take out from my favorite restaurants.

Welcome to 100% Taquito and St. Patrick’s Day.

You may remember that I wrote about 100% Taquitos as my go to restaurant for El Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead). Now they are my new favorite restaurant for St. Patrick’s Day. As you can see the taxi with the leprechaun on top and skeletons inside is surrounded by tables that have been stacked up so no one coming in for take out will be able to sit down. On top of the front of the taxi are two floor mats as further evidence of the seating area not being open. Also, all employees who prepared the food wore gloves. Again, I ordered food that required cooking.

As you can see, instead of the well known phrase, “Kiss Me, I’m Irish”, your only requirement at 100% Taquitos is to buy tacos. I did. My dear friend and I both bought vegetarian tacos. We took them home and ate them outside on the balcony. They were delicious.

As I left 100% Taquito with tacos in hand, I passed this cute doggie called “Lucky”. I didn’t pat him on the head, because I was respecting his social distance. But I did wave good‐bye. I will continue to go by my favorite local restaurants and support them with my take out orders.

What local businesses are you supporting during this unusual time?

Until next week.….

Pandemic Road

I don’t remember where I first heard of the “curse”. However, I do remember reading about it in several novels by Terry Pratchett. Here is the curse:

May you live in interesting times.

This is now the curse where we find ourselves. Last night I did something that may in a few short days be considered quite risky.

I went to the Theater District of Houston. My Dear Friend and I went to dinner at a restaurant called the Blue Fish. It was crowded. Lots of folks enjoying the sushi and other delectable items. My We shared the grilled salmon.

Then we went across the street to the Wortham Center and saw a work that had been commissioned by the Houston Grand Opera. It was called Marian’s Song.

This short opera told a part of the story about Marian Anderson. She was one of the most celebrated singers of the 20th century who broke racial barriers throughout her career. This was a fusion of opera, spoken word and multimedia projections. Deborah D.E.E.P. Mouton wrote the libretto. The performance was inspiring. I was moved. I hope this work grows and moves into the arena of operas around the world. I am looking forward to hearing Ms. Mouton speak at the March meeting of the Women in the Visual and Literary Arts (WiVLA).

What was so risky? I went out in public. I washed my hands frequently. I tried not to touch door knobs. I have been practicing punching elevator buttons with my knuckle. The coravirus or COVID‐19 could pop up anywhere.

This week I have gotten used to going to any grocery or drug store and seeing people with masks and/or gloves. There is no hand sanitizer, water, toilet paper, etc. available for purchase. I have my small supply. I wash my hands frequently. I am getting to know local pharmacists so they will tell me when the next shipment of supplies is due. Every time I get home, the first thing I do is wash my hands. I am amazed at how many people don’t know how to wash their hands. Isn’t this one of the activities of daily living that we all should have mastered by.….I don’t know.……age 5 or so?

The fear is palpable.

Is this the price I pay because I love living in a big city? I love the Theater District in downtown Houston. What if this all gets worse and performances are cancelled/delayed? Many of the arts were adversely affected by Hurricane Harvey. What could a pandemic do to them?

As I sit at here, having washed my hands twice since getting home this afternoon, I contemplate this. I plan as best I can and I contemplate.

Even my cat, Hannah, is showing an interest in how I keep the two of us safe.

Next weekend my Dear Friend and I have tickets for the Houston Ballet and Houston Symphony. I still plan on attending both. I will wash my hands, use hand sanitizer and whatever else I need to do. I still love life in a big international city. We have survived SARS, Y2K, and several hurricanes. When faced with a hurricane, all one can do is grab supplies and hunker down until the danger is passed. We have many more options to survive a pandemic. We will survive COVID‐19. We’re Texans by God. Remember the Alamo! I will keep you posted on how it goes.

Until next week.……