Fly Infestation

Periodically we have a buzz of house flies congregating mostly in our kitchen and dining room.  They annoy us, get into the dishwashing tubs, rarely into the fridge where the coolness does them in or at least slows there metabolism.  They're back, too many for a fly swatter, too big for fly tape. 

I assume they laid eggs someplace in our house on a previous visit though I've not seen any larval forms preceding the presence of adult forms.  They seem to cluster most near our northern kitchen and dining room windows.  A quick survey of internet advice on control did not sound optimistic once the adults prevail.  We don't have a lot of exposed food around.  I could spray some Raid along the windows, probably will, but need to be careful to avoid food storage that we keep nearby.  In the past they have shown short life spans so the annoyance should dissipate but I'll do my best to hasten that chemically.

Heat Wave

While nobody really knows what creates climate or predicts its variability very well, some patterns have gotten sufficiently familiar to maintain some predictability.  We will have a snow requiring driveway clearing every winter, though we didn't the last one.  There will be a few deluges, though flooding would be a notable event.  And it gets hot for part of the summer, usually with enough humidity to alter activities.  That's where I've been the past week or two.  I made it to the Delaware shore one day, an afternoon with a pleasant breeze to break the outdoor heat.  But for the most part, being an indoor cat has suited me better.  No fishing, more out of concern for me than the fish.  My gardens have taken sufficient root to not need a lot of supplemental water, except for my new sapling and especially for the zinnias planted in the pre-built wooden corner boxes on my deck.  Those have looked a bit droopy some days but revive quickly when added water seeps beneath the soil.  The first flowers have arrived with only small but timely amounts of care on my part. 

Air conditioning has become a high priority these past few weeks, either at home or in the car.  Walks across parking lots or at gasoline pumps have not taken a serious toll but added effort of weeding my main garden has become noticeable, so I've not been doing it in a serious way.  I have looked at the crop:  leaf herbs doing well, seeded vegetables not yet.  The inspections have been brief.

In the spring, I set up the deck for some outdoor living.  Umbrella does not work right.  Antigravity chair comfortable but not the best place to hang out on a steamy afternoon, even though the backyard faces north.  Being indoors has its opportunity for cleaning, writing, loafing.  None yet taken to best advantage.  Not even loafing.

Use the Dishwasher Maybe

Coffee mugs have a way of accumulating.  Figure I consume my three daily cups, using a keurig k-cup means I need a clean mug each time as my machine requires new water to be placed in the warmer rather than having its own reservoir.  Then an herb tea later in the day.  Maybe a glass of wine or soda or a beer with supper.  Plus my wife's share.  It can mean a lot of cups and glasses, far in excess of any plates or utensils.  My milchig dish rack holds four cups on the outer vertical holders, then I can put more on the grid, but I also need the grid for space occupying cooking utensils and plates.  The dishwasher can do the whole thing except the delicates though typically the upper rack where the cups go fills up while the lower rack has mainly forks and spoons with a plate or two.  I really don't want to hand wash as many drinking vessels as I have out today, so perhaps the dishwasher is still the best alternative.

Added Waistline

As the second half of the calendar year gets underway, I diverted my health goal from treadmill landmarks, which I achieved, back to anthropometric measurements which have gone nowhere for several years.  Weight and Waist get measured every Monday morning, a lot of the week's progress usually gets entered every Wednesday, along with a statement of how I feel.  In retirement, as a senior citizen, I've been as attentive as I've ever been, taking my prescribed medicine daily, measuring my BP a few times a week, doing the scheduled treadmill session with few lapses, and not consuming any calories from 10PM to 6AM every day.  Three weeks into the program, my weight remains static but my waist increased by one inch, which I should have noted since my pants have fitted less well along the middle, though the belt holes have not changed.  This will have to be accomplished with some more severe diet modifications, though I have not approached snacks in a voracious way since the second half of the year began.

I do most of the grocery shopping and the majority of supper preparation so I have pretty good control.  Breakfast has been inconsistent at best.  My routine is coffee, though when I have gravlax at hand I will make a sandwich with a bagel and cream cheese, so there is a breakfast.  Suppers have been moderate.  Triple Decker Sandwiches have been gone for a while.  Need to attack the snack end, I guess.  Efficient food production and corporate competition keeps the goodies good and economical.  No trip to the supermarket avoids Tastykake if the price is right or cookies or chips or pretzels.  I try to ration but maybe have not been doing as well as I thought.

As coronavirus has expanded indoor time, some ordinary activity such as OLLI, shul, walking a mall, traversing a parking lot to get somewhere, and undoubted a lot of other subtle but additive calorie utilization has also depleted.  It will be hard to recapture that so if I am to get to the physical measurement goals by year's end, the grocery shopping and consumption will need to be modified.  I think I am up to the challenge.

Back to Campus

This season the ads for return to school usually begin, though the stationery items that I already have in excess started a few weeks back.  Traditionally I look through the ads, not just pens and markers but clothing, sometimes electronics, and storage items intended for cramped dorms but useful to me too.  Until this spring, retirement has made me a little like a college student with more discretionary funds than I had when I was a real student.  My Space is already saturated.  I will probably need dress clothing for my son's upcoming wedding but nothing else.  Even eyeglass renewal is optional, as the prescription change may be too small to justify the expense.  Cookware and small appliances from previous seasons remain in their boxes.  Osher Institute will only assemble online next semester.

My own diversions, cooking, writing, and gardening, do not have a seasonal surge matching back to school.  Even summer vacation with travel has become much subdued by the Coronavirus restrictions.  So I look at Boscov's Back to Campus newspaper insert with nothing to buy.  More importantly, Labor Day has been a traditional transition point: school, the Holy Days, football, wearing a jacket.  Guess I still will need to wear a jacket, though I don't need to add one.  In some ways, our pandemic has effaced some of our calendar and the structure it gives to our year.

Missed Surprisingly Little

On the day divisible by 4 and on shabbos and yontiff I've excluded myself from Facebook and Twitter which connect me to ideas but at the expense of distracting me from other things I could be  doing instead.  Now about halfway through the first month of this restriction.  Initially I watched the clock to return, particularly if there's a note in email that somebody responded to a comment but the allure has worn off.  As I return the last two times, I missed mostly nothing, maybe a birthday or an anniversary.  I did not miss any ideas that could not be recaptured or any chance to reconnect with an old friend who had escaped previous attempts at reconnecting.  A big nothing.

The more compelling analysis might be what I did instead.  Admittedly less than I should, and what I did was less expertly done than I would like, but an assignment for writing, housework, gardening, or cooking was pursued in some way and not interrupted to check the newest FB posts.  I've been accessing my paid subscription to The Atlantic more on the social media days off.  These articles are often complex thoughts by very good writers that are better understood with undivided attention.  The Forward may be harder to assess since their articles come across my news feed where they are likely to be noticed.  I have the option of responding either there or on The Forward website, roughly equal in responses and replies.

I have not set KevinMD as social media avoidance.  These are more literary with response, not designed as interactive like FB or Twitter, and moderated in a way that keeps the loons or trolls from detracting from a discussion or pitching their political hardballs.

For now, the day divisible by 4 avoidance seems a positive initiative.

Vacation Desperation

During my working years, vacation time was allotted.  I would anticipated when the need would arise, set aside the week, occasionally two, a few months in advance, and then look to anticipation as the scheduled activity and time approached.  Once in a while it got overdue.  I worked to a frazzle, got ill tempered, never really despondent but I knew a change of direction and usually location would restore better circumstances.  As I retired, I never expected to feel desperate for this element of change. 

To be sure, I travelled a bit, even to Europe.  But the closest I came to wanting an escape, though not really needing one, might have been an Osher Institute intercession or a solo trip during a deep freeze to Penn State University.  This year, a few days travel was again anticipated for spring break, but Covid-19 cancelled OLLI and most everything else, leaving me with virtually no structured extrinsic schedule once the pandemic added shabbos to my endless solitary time.

Solitude and loneliness are different.  I'm not lonely and I get out most days, even if only to a supermarket or state park.  As I do every June and December, I outlined a dozen projects spread over a dozen categories that would challenge me and bring meaning.  I even started tackling some of them. Despite the effort and its anticipation, I just fixated on my screens and keyboards too much.  Effort sort of, efficacy no, enthusiasm not even close.  For the first time since retirement two years ago, a sense of urgently needing a change of scenery overtook me.  Unfortunately, most days have some petty obligations.  Usual day trip destinations: a winery or brewery, and old mansion, museums all on hiatus to promote infection control.  Still I felt restless.  Best option seemed a day at the beach, socially distanced for my own protection and perhaps others.

My state of Delaware has a significant shoreline, mostly abutting Delaware Bay but at the south bordering the Atlantic.  Shore towns have developed during my decades as a state resident.  Rehoboth Beach is the best known, a family destination when my children were little, a gathering for rather prosperous Gay community in more recent years.  The families now seem to gather a town or two south.  Retirees from Washington and elsewhere have relocated to massive condos and new construction of pastel box houses in the southern towns.  While all beaches are public, the reality is that parking is in short enough supply that if you have no overnight accommodations that do not require a car to get to the beach, the beaches of the beach towns are not a realistic destination.  The alternative has been three lovely State Parks with shoreline.  I have a Park Pass which allows me free entry and parking at any of them.  My favorite has been the southernmost, Fenwick Island State Park, more remote than the others, a bit more of a drive by a separate route, but never with a lot of crowding or the rowdy's that often appear on the beach town shores.

Some challenging driving but I made it.  Covid-19 adaptations require them to close at 60% capacity.  I got one of the last five authorized entries.  A hike to the bath house with beach chair and a tote bag with mega-amenities from pretzels to water bottle, to radio, to cell phone.  Sunglasses and floppy hat, of course.  A quick change, then another schlep with my worldly goods to a patch of sand about a 4 meter radius from anyone else to stake claim as my homestead for the next few hours.

While driving for 2.5  hours, misled by my GPS, did not rattle me, flopping into the beach chair with suitable social isolation did not readily reverse my building frazzle.  Some radio, first whatever would come on the transistor, later the global radio app on my cell phone set to a classic station.  Water from the highly effective metal thermos did not help.  Pretzels, a little saltier than expected satisfied some munchies that were not overly pervasive.  Maybe some surf.  I made my way to the water's edge, low tide, got about ankle deep, still felt unsettled and not entirely steady.  Back to the chair, more sunscreen, more classical music for a few minutes.

One of my successful approaches to vast swaths of post-retirement time has been a commitment to do a defined task, often exercise but sometimes reading or writing at a specified time not very far into the future.  At 1:10PM I would go back into the water deep enough  to have the waves soak my turquoise trunks. Time arrived. I found my way into the water, advancing stepwise until the largest waves broke waist high.  They had some oomph, but only displaced me once.  Just the right temperature.  Finally refreshed, I returned to the beach chair, put my t-shirt and sunglasses back on, and set the recliner backwards.  Now I felt relaxed, frazzle dissolved by the waves.  While the temperature measured rather hot, a cool breeze made the air drying off a damp lower half rather comfortable.  No more need for music or anything else on the radio.  A little more water, a few more pretzels,  positioned the sand in front of the chair to support my heels and lower calves. Mini-vacation mission accomplished.  I set a departure time for about an hour later, thought about delaying it but returned to the locker room then car as intended.

For the return home, the GPS directed me by the usual anticipated route which takes me through some farm country that appears to be giving way incrementally to government facilities, housing for people who work there or want to retire to a beach town, or the strip malls that provide them fast food.  Yet, there were still corn fields, a few orchards, an occasional stand, and roads that had not yet become highways or even major destinations in their own right.  Just conduits connecting the major roads to the beach.  By the time my car reached the more populated towns with larger shopping centers and major government agency sites supporting the towns' financial viability, my equanimity had been restored.  Two more hours on the road to my house.  Ready to approach the following day's To-Do agenda with better focus.