Mom, are we Pandemic yet?

As I sit in my pajamas at work today, eating a cookie, it occurs to me that people are awfully good at jumping when they step on a thorn but awfully bad at losing weight.  I'm not that worried about being plump (today in particular) but I am interested in our lack of ability to react appropriately to Very Bad Things that happen slowly, or under the skin, or in the air.  People seem to lack a combination of math and imagination in this regard, or mistake it for anxiety.  Certainty of a bad thing is not the same as worry about it.

Okay, I am going to type The Very Bad Thing I am thinking about in case I review this in future and have forgotten.  It's this coronavirus which causes this disease which is called Covid19.

To start with, people can't even talk about it right.  My doctor's office has a big sign about Corona!  The poor Corona beer company has lost something like $300M so far because people are muddled in this way.

No folks, it's not a beer, its a virus. But like the Many-Faced-God it has many names.

People started off calling it Wuhan Flu, that was shortened to WuFlu.  Then it was China Flu but that was considered discriminatory against China so people called it Coronavirus.  Trouble is, there are lots of Coronaviruses so people started looking for a name.  They took too long, so nobody really cared when they came up with names.  WHO called it Coronavirus disease 19 (abbreviated to COVID-19 but who cares about the hyphen) on February 11, 2020.

Just to complicate matters, the virus is called SARS-CoV-2.  It was named by Coronaviridae Study Group (CSG) of the International Committee on Taxonomy of Viruses. They explained in their naming paper that it was not a new species of virus but almost the same as SARS-CoV which is why it only warranted a "2" after the name.

So, everyone who is running around calling it flu should notice that it is not a flu, it's a SARS.

Now, back to the bad thing. Many people in Seattle are going about their daily lives thinking that it is a normal day and I suppose it is. The sun shone.  The birds twittered a little earlier as spring sneaks up on us.  But it is not a normal day because many people around us are preparing to fight a Pandemic infection that has got a bit out of control here.

We are not there yet... but we'll stop for some gas and we'll get there soon.

Visiting Wren in Seattle in August 2016 by Granny

Wren is nine years old now, or as he says, nine and three-quarters. He will be ten in December.

My visit coincided with the ending of the long summer vacation: from late June to early September. It is a challenge for working parents - for all parents. I think by the end everyone is keen to start the new school year.

Wren is going into year 4, and Frost into his Sophomore year at High School. For non-USA people this is the second year at High School, 10th grade. I looked up the meaning and read that it may originate in the Greek word, sophisma, meaning, 'acquired skill, clever device, method'. Apparently, it is the beginning of the time for schoolkids to consider what they hope for in terms of their college years.

I look back on my three weeks in Seattle and understand why, now back in Australia, I am somewhat tired. We did a lot every day. My new Fit Bit HR charge (thanks to Shannon) shows many stars for my activity while there … not so since my return to Adelaide.

The late summer weather was stunning: the rain for which Seattle is infamous came in one hard shower in three weeks and I spent a lot of time watering the garden and trying to save Shannon's mimosa tree and Josh's vegetable garden from collapse.

Every weekend saw us in the 'woods'. The forests of Washington State are so different to our Australian eucalypts woodlands. The first weekend we went to Deception Pass on Whidbey Island to walk and look for fungi - but found few in the dry conditions. There were enough Chanterelles for family breakfast but Shannon says we need to wait for the autumn rains for the bumper crop.

Tara, Anne and Wren starting the hike in to Goldmeyer Hot Springs

Wren is a keen walker - chatting always and wondering how much further it is. Although Wren is super thin he has great energy. We collected nettles for soup and walked to a beach where another group of foragers were crabbing. They showed us their huge mud crabs and butter clams they had gathered using licensed pots. Our long loop walk took us through great trees over 500 years old. Some were Douglas firs, Sitka spruce, big Maple Leaf and others that all looked the same to me. Shannon found woody mushrooms that turned out to be good for the dying of materials. We saw the large pileated woodpecker flying through and it briefly stopped on a tree. I glimpsed an Osprey.

Wren is a thinker and expresses himself very well. Often these thoughts come out of the blue from the back seat of the car.

'We have just passed a graveyard, and I am just wondering. Why do people put flowers on a grave? How did that originate?' Shannon replied by telling Wren about Indonesia and their customs relating to the old people.

Another question had Shannon and me collapsing into laughter:  'When should I young to worry about saving for retirement?'

Other ones: 'What happens if Trump and Clinton get the same number of votes?' and 'What temperature do you get with yellow fever?'

And this comment when walking back from Greenlake Pool: 'You have to face some difficulties in life. You cannot expect everything to go well.'

Wren gets obsessions - shoes he desires or something from the supermarket and will not rest till he gets it or some commitment. He wanted Vans shoes and was sad till they were ordered. He anticipated their arrival and was miserable when he struggled to deal with the long laces. I had taught him to do his own laces earlier. It's hard growing up sometimes.

Wren gets worried about the world: will Frost get lost in San Francisco when he is allowed off on his own to wander for a few hours? He picks up on adult worries:  are we going to miss the plane? He likes certainty.

A Walk in the Woods

There's always a weekend in spring where we start thinking summer has come!.  Lines at REI go out the door, there's a crush at Greenlake, people start yoga and mow lawns, dogs that haven't seen the light of day in months are dragged out to parks and people spend ages trying on sunglasses they'll lose in a drawer next week when winter returns.

Last Saturday was that weekend: sunshine and temperatures in the 70s lured me out for a hike with Wren.  We went to Boulder River Trail up near Darrington.  At 9.45am parking was already packed and we had to navigate the potholed road where piles of sawdust still lay by the lengths of freshly sawn trees that had fallen over the trail, a reminder of recent storms. Driving up from Seattle we also passed the Oso Landslide site.  In the early fog and cool it was deserted and we stopped a moment to reflect on how small we are against geologic scale and how the flag of a nation feels like a vanity against the carving and calving of the earth's surface.

The Oso Gate Memorial

Oso Landslide where 43 died March 22, 2014

We started up the trail unsure how far we'd go. At first, Wren was concerned about the cliffs to the right of the path. He said he wasn't worried about himself but was worried Beezle could fall off.  I told him Beezle would take care of himself because he had four legs.  Then I looked over the edge and wondered if I was right.

Beezle does not like bridges.  If he has a chance to walk over a log or walk under it he always takes the low road.  This bridge was no exception. Wren says "I got a real fright.  I thought Beezle would go down into the river and be stuck there and not come up".  He did come up.

Along the way we passed the downed trees and snags. Some huge trees had splintered on the path while others blocked the way entirely and had steps sawn in them where we had to carry Beezle. At every crossing people would pause and ooh and aah at how cute and small Beezle was and what a distance he was walking.

The full Boulder Creek hike was 9 miles.  We made it the whole way (Wren was running downhill on the way home).  He was thankful when I stopped looking at every mushroom (because the same species kept recurring). Beezle had run out of steam 3/4 of the way alone and only continued out of desperation and fear of being left in the woods with wild dogs and fern fronds to eat.

On the way home we ate snacks from Grocery Outlet and stopped at Cabelas to buy Wren a knife.  He has been whittling and cutting cheese with it ever since.

There were birds nest fungi on every surface and at every angle.

Wren surveys the remains of a recently fallen tree across the trail.

There were many spring fungi out, and particular abundance of this ascomycete which is
a species of pseudoplectania (vogesiaca or nigrella)

lichenomphalia umbellifera symbiotically associated
with green green alga Coccomyxa on rotting logs.

Birds nest fungi.

A foraging pug who wanted to eat our pear but was chased away by Beezle
(who does not eat pear)

A cone shape in a twig circle.

Welcome to the Woods

Some things don't need a caption.

We walked 9 miles in total (a fellow hiker had a GPS). It took us 6 hours and Wren
was largely responsible for us keeping going to the end of the trail before turning back.
I was still the next day - he was not.  Beezle looks at me with dread when I say "Walkies".

Worse Things Happen .. In National Parks

When bad things happened my grandfather used to say "worse things happen at sea".  I am not sure exactly what he meant by it - I assume that anything bad that happens on land is a lot worse when you're out in the middle of a roiling ocean, reliant on your own supplies and resourcefulness. Regardless, its function was to give us perspective on petty complaints. After this trip I am adding a new adage to my collection of Life Quotes:

"Worse things happen in National Parks".

Noah and I decided to See the Sunrise at Zabriskie Point. Our sun can be seen to rise and shine from many part of the earth (and I saw a spectacular sunrise through my tent flap the day before). But some parts of the earth have better views of it than others and some parts of earth in National Parks have the misfortune of being accessible to the nation, and being known for this.. this ability to see the sunrise with the same framing everybody else has seen, and also to be able to prove it with a photograph.

I didn't know it, but according to reviews (yes, view sites have reviews on Google):

So, instead of a few folk sitting on a high place watching the suns rays reaching over the curve of the earth, there were dozens of people with tripods vying to get front row seats to photograph the reddening canyons from an iconic vantage.  It was like this about an hour before sunrise.





They jostled for position, ran from vantage to vantage. This guy asked us to "step back a bit" so he could get his desired angle.  He's in the Khaki brigade. When you go to a national park you must wear khaki pants and a kit vest. Do you love him?



And then things got beyond crowded to weird. A TV-style yogi was doing some kind of sun honoring thing with a boombox playing inspirational pop music, loudly, nearby. So, picture this photo with a tinny pop soundtrack.  Oh. And a Japanese-American woman in a white silken tunic prancing around making sun honoring gestures with her hands followed by an entourage of older male tourists. A homophobic man with a bloody eye told me that he and his "boys" got in trouble riding Harley's, and did not do "stuff like that".

A little note which made Tunic Lady seem more calculated was her sneakers.  She was wearing clunky old-person sneakers but she'd slip off before doing her 'barefoot in the sand' dancing and prancing and then put them on to walk around.  Men turned and photographed her, gesturing her over to pose in the foreground of their sunrise.

There were also people camped with cameras like little black pimples on distant buttes ;)

The irony of it all was that the sunrise was not particularly saturated and colored that day as there was a veil of clouds.  I overheard the yoga guy tell someone that "it isn't as intense" as yesterday. I took some photos (but really need to read the manual on my camera as I spent about half the time dicking around with settings).  When I opened the pictures in my photo viewer I started to think about intensity.  Are people hooked on a saturated version of the world, like the "Pop" filter on apps?  Do you slip the intensity slider a little to the right?  And if you do.. what are you moving towards... does the brighter version seem truer, more fun or just more like the life people will Like?

This is as it was recorded by me and the camera.

This is with saturation maxed so I hope it makes you feel nauseous but
there are many published photos on the continuum towards this hyped sky.

Ansel Adams, probably the greatest american landscape photographer wrote about an experience climbing a ridge west of Mt. Clark:

"I saw more clearly than I have ever seen before or since the minute detail of the grasses, the clusters of sand shifting in the wind, the small flotsam of the forest, the motion of the high clouds streaming above the peaks. There are no words to convey the moods of those moments.”

Don't get me wrong, I am glad people get out to National Parks but what I hope they find there is an experience of the minute detail of things, the humility of breath in the great sweep of the earth.  This was not that moment.

Sierra Hot Springs

I don't like New Year's Resolutions. If something is worth doing, just do it already.. don't wait for the ball at Times Square to tell you its time. So this year, when someone asked what my resolution was I just said I was going "to go to three new hot springs". I am not sure why I said it, I guess because it was cold, in the middle of winter, I like Breitenbush Hot Springs and of course I enjoy Korean bath houses like Olympus.

Last week I made a trip down to California and Nevada with Noah, and visited 3 hot springs in two days so perhaps I was prescient in my ambitions.

We started off in Sacramento and drove Route 50 East and 395 South to Bridgeport CA. The drive through the Sierra's was beautiful. It reminded me of great scenic vistas I've experienced - the view across the foothills to the Drakensberg, the high plains and the hills of the Black Sea.  The scale of the mountains covered in evergreen trees, patches of high meadow white with snow and sudden cuts of rivers carrying snowmelt merits a kind of silence. Its enough to simply be in places like this.  For those not in the US, the Sierra Nevada range is the highest and longest mountain range in the contiguous United States and includes Yosemite National Park as well as many others.

Travertine Hot Springs

We dropped down from the mountains to a wide valley and then turned South to Bridgeport. Bridgeport is really tiny but its near Travertine Hot Springs which is a natural spring up a mile of dirt road. We arrived at dusk - surprising a jackrabbit in the headlights - and came to a landscape of large boulders and low trees, with warm water seeping from the earth and running down the hill in muddy rivulets and bogs.  There are a few large central pools and in a few places, people have cultivated others. We found a pool down the hillside. The night was brilliant with stars.

As I walked back to the car a large animal lurched out of the dark to sniff me.  It was a hippy's dog. Apparently hot springs attract people who are relaxed and live in camper vans and travel with dogs and children who wear colorful clothes and hats.  Because it was dark, I don't have a photo of this Spring but Noah has a photo of the hare and the sky looked like it does from any dark-enough North American earth.

We walked back without lights.  Noah says the trick to walking in the dark is to lift your feet up so you don't kick into things.

Mono Lake

The next day we headed South through the great basin. Mono Lake is a saline soda lake (very salty and alkaline) which forms an oasis, important for migratory and nesting birds. This is not a hot spring but its beautiful and watery so I am including it. We ate lunch at the lake shore and then walked through the towers of tufa which stand like sentinels (or meerkats).

South to Wild Willy's Hot Spring

This spring was a few miles and cattle-grates off 395, South of Mammoth Lakes.  Located under a great sweeping horizon on a ridge above the valley floor, the cold wind peels off the mountains but the sun and water are hot.  You walk from a parking lot down a path and wooden walkway to a series of pools. On the way we passed an unnaturally happy man carrying a six-pack of empty beer bottles and alcohol.  More dogs were hanging around and a vacant-eyed young woman walked by, expressionless. 

The upper pool was a bit milky but a nice temperature.  We had it to ourselves but other people were hopping in and out of the main pools with drinks and children and dogs and communal cheer. As I got out I found an alcohol swab of the kind people use to prep a site for injectables. This was not encouraging and gave rise to "fucking hippy drug user" thoughts in both of us.  Perhaps the sign should add "pack your sharps".

I wish they had specified that human waste should be buried in a land far-far away.

The path to the pools at Wild Willy reminds me of an Andy Goldsworthy piece

Beautiful space.

 Hilltop

The final spring we visited was Hilltop. There were three women in bikinis and 2 naked dogs at Hilltop Hot Spring when we arrived. The dogs were friendly. The women were locals.  They were not hippies or drug users but its not that fun to sit in a Spring the Size of the hot tub with three strangers eating crackers.  

This was the only spring I chose to wear a swimsuit.  I guess I didn't need to but I didn't want to get undressed in front of the dogs and the only thing weirder than sitting in a spring the size of a hot tub with three strange women eating crackers and one women eating lots of things, is to sit in it with three women eating crackers and one women eating lots of things when you are the only one naked.  Actually, put like that it sounds like a "fuck, why am I naked" dream.

At Hilltop I learned that one of the women was eating crackers and cookies and chips because she wasn't getting any orgasms.  I also learned that they had been sitting in the hot spring a few weeks prior when they felt an earthquake.  I also learned they were locals and came here often. Noah declined to get in that hot spring which was a wise decision and enabled me to hop out within a short period and say I was ready for lunch (I find I am always ready for lunch in these circumstances).

Running in the neighborhood

I went for a morning jog around the neighbourhood.  Houses have tall walls topped with electrified wire, sharp metal spikes or stakes. Many larger homes have a guardhouse where a security guard sits.  Everyone has signs for armed response or Blue Security posted at regular intervals along the wall.  Driveways have 10 foot high, automatic gates.  When cars drive out they wait outside the gate until the gate is fully closed before driving off.

Outside the wall the streets have no sidewalks but are verged by green lawns and plantings with red earth paths walked into them.  Some have rockeries, bromeliads, ferns, wide-leafed grasses.  All the roads are lined with trees - the kind of trees that really make good shade.  The canopy is wide and well-leafed and many trees have someone sitting under them.

You don't see many white South African's walking.  The gardeners wearing blue overalls are raking leaves from the street, the driveways are leaf-free.  At some homes, a security guard sits on a plastic chair by the gate, while other workers load bricks from a pickup or polish the brass numbers on the wall.  Maids walk the dogs and others sit, chatting on the lawn while Common Indian Mynah birds hop and sing "keeky keeky keek churr churr kuk kuk kuk".  Occasional doves call from the dark trees.

The homes are large - with patios and deck chairs overlooking the distant sea.  Some have swimming pools and tennis courts.  All have big leafed plants and lawns of uneven green (weeds are common) studded with red-earth erupting mole-hills.  Jacarandas and Flame trees are common - big seed pods lie in the road along with purple jacaranda flowers (exam season) and red earth.  Outside the larger homes the red earth has been raked clear and you can see the lines of the raking in the sand by the street.

Ants make trails and crickets cheep.

I can see the hedge that will have martengulas later in the year, small avocados have fallen from some trees after recent winds.  Its hot and humid now - blue skies are being replaced by building clouds from inland and the sea flecks white.

This afternoon we say goodbye to Dad (who is flying to Cape Town for a weekend with the boys) and Wren and I will spend the night at Ammazulu in Kloof before flying home tomorrow.

Sugar and the "God Cell"

#1
Wren: "I hate it when someone says you can have something for desert, like this turkish delight chocolate bar, and then you forget and you ask if you can have it now and they say 'no'"

Me: "Its breakfast!  Its 7.30am"

Wren falls face down on the bed and sighs, turns, looks at me with a quivering bottom lip and then lies face down again.

#2
The power goes out unexpectedly in the Game Reserve and we are left sitting in the dark with one flashlight between us.  Dad and David ask if they can use the flashlight to get something from their cabin, 100 m or more distant, in the dark, with no fence around the camp.  We light candles in the lodge.

They ask: "Can we use the flashlight for a few minutes.  We will be back soon.  Otherwise it will be very dark walking to our room [unfenced lodge camp]?

Wren: I don't like to say this, but I am getting to the point where 'I just don't care'.

#3
We are in the game reserve and stop by some fresh rhino dung where a dung beetle is working.  We open the window so Wren can see. He rolls down the window and makes a great sound of disgust.

"Argh! SHUT THE WINDOW.  My nose is vomiting!."

#4
In this area of Durban North all the houses have Blue Security contracts and a special extra-active armed response team. On our return from the Game Reserve we found that our electric gate opener was flat and so we could not open the gate.  Because the gate and perimeter are topped with electric fence, we could not get in.  Dad drove off to buy a battery for the remote while Ingrid called Blue Security to see if they could open the gate.

Ingrid said "They have an override so if we called them in an emergency they could get in."

Rodger arrived in the security car.

He said "No, sorry.  We don't have the override. That is an added service. We get a God Cell in the car and that lets the guard on duty in the car get in for an emergency only.

Ingrid was puzzled.  She was told that with the Added Active Security package they would have a God Cell.  Dad was not sure he wanted Blue Security to have an all-access pass option.

Wren and I were listening.  We were quite intrigued by the God Cell and Wren kept mentioning it when people talked about the gate.

Today, Blue Security came over to consult with Ingrid. Later, I saw a receipt for the work order done today.  It said "Installed, one Guard Cell."

Aw, God would have been so much better.

Umhloti Beach Day

Today was our last full day in Durban.  We went up the North Coast to Umloti, to swim in the protected lagoon behind some rocky reefs.  When I was a girl we would come here to go musseling and look in the rock pools at low tide.  More recently, Dad and I have snorkelled to look at the fish who swim in the pool and collect around the rocky reef.

Umhloti Lagoon

Wren loved the lagoon and the rocks.  We saw many small fish and Wren was committed to catching one.  Unfortunately, we did not have a net.  I did have an old plastic container which he tried to scoop the fish with.  We did not succeed.  An elderly man with a long grey beard was snorkelling in and around the rock pools.  He was wearing a long white tunic and leggings.  He told me he was a Muslim and despaired of the world - the greed which drives wars and conflict - and did not understand it.  He said, we have all we want here with some fish.  I have a snorkel.  He wants to catch some small fish. Why do we need more?

Wren loves Cream Sodas.  They are bright green in South Africa. Today Wren learned he does not like them with ice.

At the Umhloti Coffee Shop overlooking the sea.  Wren had Calamari rings and I had a toasted sandwich.

Wren is trying to catch fish. 

"Did I get one yet?"

"I REALLY want to catch a fish."

The surf beyond the reef was strong but regular.

Some Durban sea photos for the expats.  It was a splendid Durban day... hot and muggy but not too much heat.  The sea was warm and wonderfully clean.

Yesterday we spent the morning at South Beach and Ushaka.  Wren loved it there too but didn't go in as deep because the waves were a bit bigger than Umhloti lagoon.

Wren was stalking an Ibis.  He thought perhaps it couldn't fly because when he walked faster, it walked faster.  Eventually, he cornered it and it flew away.

The young man of the left makes these sandcastles to raise money from tourists.  You pay him a few rand to take a photo in front of his sandcastles.  I was told that this is Zumas Zululand estate.  The one on the right is a rhino and it says "stop Poaching".  At North Beach there is a large Malaysian flight 371 with the Malaysian logo in coloured sand.

Morning Swim at North Beach

Wren & I went for a morning swim at North Beach.  It was only 8am but already hot and bright with lots of swimmers in the water. The surf life saving club juniors were swimming and running with their red boogie boards.  Wren jumped over the little waves - worried about his sore thumb which he cut on the mandolin slicer last night while copying Dad and I chopping apples.

The Thumb Cut
The cut was a Drama. I had been using a Mandoline slicer to prepare apples for a waldorf salad Ingrid was taking for Thanksgiving in South Africa. Mandolins are vile appliances on which home cooks trade mortal risk for the chance to have perfectly thin and even slices of fruit. Nobody who has cut off the top part of their thumb can look at one without feeling a bit queazy.  Generally, when you buy a mandolin it comes with various parts:

• Liability disclaimer part
• Slicer Blade Part
• Grater Blade Parts
• Plastic vegetable grip part.

After a few months, only the slicer blade part remains because the other parts are stupid and have been lost in the back of the cupboard  Yes, I said it... stupid. Despite the demonstration videos, you really can't hold a carrot with this plastic grip thing. To do so, you have to pre-sculpt the vegetable into just-right shaped parts which wastes all the curved bits.

Everyone knows holding the fruit or vegetable is dangerous so I don't know why we do it but we do. In fact, if you google "Mandoline Slicer da" it prefills the phrase:

"Mandoline Slicer Dangerous" and gives you articles with titles like:

Whatever you do, do not select IMAGE SEARCH for "Mandoline Slicer Dangerous"

Anyway, we were talking about how dangerous it was and I was going slowly, so Dad took over slicing and went fast. I felt ill and walked out the kitchen because I was sure he was going to cut himself. Wren was watching and eating apple slices.

Dad put it down to lemonize the apples and Wren just picked up a wedge of apple and started slicing it fast "whizz whizz".

I screamed "Nooooooo!"

But he was already screaming "Arghhhhh" and bleeding everywhere while I yelled at him about a minute late about the Mandoline slicer.  I think there was a Fuck in there too.

It bled for a long while and took three bandaids, including a cool bandaid from Japan and caledula ointment to stop it.  It rather ruined the evening because Wren had ongoing commentary about his finger with themes like:

1. Will I get an infection?
2. OH GOD, I shook my hand it will start bleeding again.
3. Will I die of blood loss?
4. Why has Futurama stopped?
5. When will it stop throbbing?
6. I can't eat Thanksgiving in South Africa because of the pain.
7. I can't play iPad anymore.

Back to the Beach

So, this morning we went swimming at North Beach and despite swearing he would not swim, Wren was pleased that his cut did not sting. In fact, the bandaids fell off and it does not look so bad. Dad warned that the top of the finger will dry up and fall off.  I have not mentioned that to Wren yet as its only a small piece of finger but he is probably attached it it. Well, he is attached to it now and that would worry him.

The beach was stunning.  Warm water and small waves.  I took Wren out about 4 m from breaking waves past the little sandbank (right on shore) to a place that he could only just stand but could float up and down the waves holding onto the boogie board.  I said he could say "Home" anytime and I would take him back to the shallows.  He said "Home" twice - once when a wave was a little steeper than usual and once when he was concerned about a big wave. We plan to swim every day that there is sunshine.

Morning coffee at Juran was great.  David and I had soy.

David has headed back to Cape Town with his 100% Rye Bread and Garlic oil.