Susan's Scribblings the Blog

A writer from the Philadelphia area shares the week online.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog
  • Who the Heck is Kayewer?
  • Monthly Archives: December 2020

    • The Year (Ding-a-)ling

      Posted at 6:04 pm by kayewer, on December 26, 2020

      What have I done for 360 days in 2020? Looking back, a lot. With only five days to go, many might be glad to see this year go, but any year that has come to its end has much to say for itself in how we spent it. Going back over the year via what I’ve posted here, a lot happened indeed, and it was as normal or abnormal as any given year, with some added intensity from the hundred-year pestilence thrown in.

      The year started out with the usual domestic comments about parking lots and beta fish with Napoleon complexes and discovering new videos on YouTube. None of that has changed, except the beta is a house guest in my home (along with his office mate) since I was compelled to relocate my job to home base on March 27. I have also found that parking is better when going to the grocery store during the early “senior and health compromised hour,” of which I am the former.

      So on March 13 (yes, it was a Friday), we began this tempestuous journey of disease, its transmission, spread and (eventual) resolution. By May we could get visits from Mr. Softee, but cleaning supplies and toilet paper were hard to get.

      By May my office was hopeful that it would open. Hasn’t happened yet. I had quite a bit of feedback about a post that month, because everybody was hot under the collar (finally and thoroughly) about racial injustice. Funny thing is, yesterday I got some flack about a social media vintage photo taken inside Strawbridge & Clothier–a once popular department store–which depicted a well-dressed and obviously all-white clientele; a poster suggested that I was saying there were no black executives around back then, just because I mentioned that those were different times (in so many words). I replied that there were (I witnessed them), but they obviously were not around when the photo was taken. I’m hoping the new world of equality will also mean that one doesn’t have to play verbal chess with folks looking for a soapbox to stand on: once we get our world to a “good people/bad people” state of mind, things may start working better.

      In June I finally got my hair done. I would have taken my mother in with me, but she made her final stop at senior living, so it was a solo mission for me to start looking more normal again.

      In June I moved a piece of furniture myself, and people were aghast. My neighbor gave me the “you should have called me to help” speech, and I told her the “I needed to do it myself” speech in return. It was my way of taking charge of my space, and I managed it just fine. Yes, I’m still redoing, re-purposing, trashing, shredding and picking my way through stuff, but that is what working and hunkering down at home has wrought. This past month, that same neighbor (bless her heart) came over and helped me with outdoor landscaping, and we put out half a dozen cans full of yard waste. I’m thinking the spring will bring a new yard to my life, to match the new inside I’m working on.

      Oh, and as of June I still have not nuked my first popcorn in the new microwave yet. I have, though, discovered weighted blankets, and a new mattress, delivered after over a month of waiting, has helped.

      In July I had some epic fails, made butt music with my front storm door, and began delving into more social media videos and discoveries. Over the remaining months I have managed to beat programs like The Incredible Dr. Pol to the punch and diagnose twisted cow stomachs, intestinal parasites in goats and embedded worm larvae in cat wounds, as well as freak out my own doctors in casual conversations by watching too much of Dr. Sandra Lee (aka Dr. Pimple Popper) and knowing what rhinophyma is (a skin condition common to the nose, resulting in excessive growths which need surgery to remove).

      In August I played detective and figured out how to ergonomically rearrange my work-at-home space so my arms wouldn’t stop working and cause excruciating pain, and in September I baked bread. It was fun to do a no-knead dough and turn my oven into a kiln at 450 degrees to get that luscious smell of heated yeasty goodness throughout the house. I have since moved on to other breads, and a breakfast pastry is next on the list.

      In November I had a birthday, and I visited the office to retrieve some more gizmos and gadgets to continue working from home in comfort. I noticed, to my dismay, that my big boss’s tree is probably going to die. It doesn’t get office light or the proper watering. All the other plants went home with their owners, and I have a half dozen happy violets at home to testify to my green thumb. I just didn’t have the strength to move that tree. Alive or dead, it was a heavy thing.

      So we are finishing the year, and life came and went and got messy as it always does. 2021 will be no different. If we continue to do our part, maybe within a few more months we will see something near normal again.

      If not, we can still work from home and bake bread.

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    • Dear Santa

      Posted at 4:58 pm by kayewer, on December 19, 2020

      Santa, we have to talk. I know you will be handling a Christmas like no other this year, so I’m not asking for any presents. Maybe I can bank my good girl points for next year. Meanwhile, maybe you can use your Santa Clout to work a few miracles for 2021, once you’ve recovered from your toy run.

      We are getting a new president in just a few more weeks. The one we have right now is eerily quiet, and after four years of daily grumbles by him, it worries me. Can you find something to keep him occupied outside the White House until the swearing in? That way the security detail can simply pack up his belongings and take them to wherever he plans to go after the swearing-in is done and/or he stops swearing, whichever comes first. Maybe he’d enjoy woodworking or bird watching or something.

      Can you talk to the ad agencies and composers and persuade them to stop using string ensembles–violins, cellos and such–for movies, drama series and commercials? I have heard strings used ever since it was tried in Avengers: Infinity War, and now it’s on the Hulu commercial so much, that I feel like it’s an endless litany of bad elevator music, and I’m trapped on a trip up to the 200th floor. I can even quote Chris Rock’s Fargo character Loy Cannon from that ad: “We’re on the ride now, and we can’t get off ’til the roller coaster stops.” I’m getting jaded and dizzy from that ride, Santa. Please make them stop with strings and move to some nice woodwinds or vocals instead.

      Could you change the laws in Nigeria so that every person who can legitimately claim they have inherited money, they can actually just go to the bank and get it? We have folks around here who have trouble getting their deposits back against helping out across the miles with such ventures, so we’d all do better if people just had to handle their own money within their own borders.

      I’ve been trying to recycle, but I’ve found that most of the plastics I come in contact with are not the kind my county processes (they do #1 and #2, and most of what I get in the store is #5). I’m thinking maybe the detergent manufacturers could come up with a way to refill those bottles and not have to put them into a landfill. Also, cardboard can be recycled, so we should go more with that. Also, food needs to be more sizable for one or two people. I ate spaghetti for five days straight once; it tasted good every time, but it loses some of the enjoyment after two in a row.

      I’d like Taco Bell to understand that, when I ask for one or two packets of sauce, I don’t mean twelve.

      I would like Microsoft to understand that games are supposed to be winnable without pulling one’s hair out. Facebook’s games should not require money to win or play better. When games stop being fun, I feel sad.

      Almost done, really. I swear.

      Sometime between now and the end of the year, I want to sit down and spend just a few hours doing arts and crafts. I’ve bought kits all year but haven’t had a chance to do anything with them.

      Overall, Santa, I’m hoping for a 2021 in which at least ninety percent of the world gets inoculated, so we will all be immune and maybe by spring we can start seeing a more normal universe. I want to take a vacation and not worry about social distancing or piling on hand sanitizer. Mask wearing may be a requirement for a few more months, but maybe it won’t seem to burdensome to people by then if we have hopes of an end.

      And by the way, I’m glad you and Mrs. Claus made it through 2020 without gaining 20 pounds. I gained one, but that’s because I can’t give up my favorite ice cream. If you feel guilty about not leaving something under my tree, pop a quart in the freezer for me. Thanks.

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    • Taking a Shot

      Posted at 4:50 pm by kayewer, on December 12, 2020

      We are health ignorant. Considering how much accurate information is available, it’s surprising that so many people hold to long-disproved ideas. I actually have a friend who insists that taking an antibiotic makes her feel better when she has a cold. Her gut health is deplorable because the antibiotics kill her good bacteria. She hates having to replenish her gut bacteria with yogurt because she is lactose intolerant, but she feels compelled to take a pill for a cold. You’ve got to take something, right?

      In olden days, bloodletting was a common practice. Many people claimed they felt better, and doctors touted it as effective for all sorts of conditions. The key was that most of the conditions were related to “bad humors” in the body which were relieved by balancing the amount of blood, which they felt was too abundant, by letting some out, as if easing an overinflated tire. It probably worked well for hypertension, or to prevent folks from excessive partying. Without a full tank of blood, who feels like doing anything?

      So our pharmaceutical companies have worked hard to produce a vaccine to purge our world of our current dreadful illness. They made an effort to test thoroughly while picking up the pace. They have tested and found the product to be effective for nine in ten people, with few side effects (discomfort where the shot is given, for example), and only the same kinds of problems for people with allergies, which leaves them out of the program anyway (people with some allergies take no vaccines at all).

      The plan is to roll out shots to healthcare workers first. They need that, so they can stay healthy enough to treat the sick. Next will be nursing homes, then the elderly (of which I am now a member), and finally the general adult public.

      Some of the general public, though, are having none of it. People don’t believe in the vaccine. But then some folks don’t believe there is a crisis, nor that face coverings are necessary. 2021 may be an even stranger year than 2020, if just for the videos of anti-vaccine zealots versus the pro-vaccine front.

      And what about “may we see your vaccination card?” Does anybody remember when we got our childhood “21 gun salute” vaccine which left a scar on the upper arm? It was symbolic of one’s crusade to stay healthy and protect the population. Today we don’t get scar-producing shots, but if the healthcare system keeps count and verifies that enough of us have taken the shot(s), life will start to get better, fewer people will get sick and/or die and the crisis will be nearly over.

      I feel confident enough to be first in line for the vaccine, with the hope of life returning to normal by spring. This is not something that can be treated with an antibiotic. I think I can stomach that.

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    • He, Naturally

      Posted at 4:48 pm by kayewer, on December 5, 2020

      Sexual identity is static, but the definitions of gender are not, so when a popular performer announced that their former name of Ellen Page would now be Elliot Page after going public as transgender, confusion reigned and opinions were quite polarized. I’m confused as well.

      Lately it seems the noun is seen as an enemy of the people. One is not allowed to define anything of human nature lately (unless you are an obvious woman in a snit fit, in which case you are called a term I don’t particularly like because I know lots of nice people named Karen). Commercials for a certain prescription medication indicate it may not be for people “assigned female at birth.” The thinker in me went into overdrive at that note. Imagine a primary care physician having to ask a patient to reveal whether they have had gender reassignment surgery before writing a prescription; imagine if physicians are no longer allowed to find out if their patient is, in medical fact, male or female? Sometimes the most basic issues come down to dropping trou. Take that away, and you might be one of the only people in the crowd around you who knows who they are. Scary a bit, isn’t it?

      What are “man” and “woman?” Most human beings hold to the basic definition that a human being with, to put it family terms, a frank and beans, is male, and those with “everything under the hood” is female. The actions one takes during life to define themselves as male or female have changed dramatically over the years, and a skirt or suit no longer sets the tone. However, one thing is irrevocably clear:

      You can’t circumvent natural law.

      Sure, nature takes a U-turn on occasion, and some infants have challenges which may affect their gender identity from the start. Usually the physician and parents make a decision, and the baby becomes Bill or Belle. However, humans are the only sentient creatures on this planet who go into the realm of totally becoming the other sex. Don’t even let me go into people who think themselves extraterrestrials or whatnot.

      I have trouble imagining that it’s a one hundred percent changeover, though. Physically and biologically speaking, no matter which gender one tries to become, the original one started there, always will be there, and ends there. I wondered, upon reading about the “new guy” on the Hollywood roster, what will happen 70 or 80 years down the road, when this person leaves mortality and approaches the pearly gates; how will God greet this person? Of course it is the same person, and yet not; still, God will know whom He is addressing, but it would be interesting to be by the gate when it happens.

      So people don’t want to be themselves, or they want to be themselves and what they think is better, or who they feel they were meant to be. I look in the mirror and just sigh.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged Ellen Page, Elliot Page, Sexual Identity, Transgender
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