Pandemic Grump Session

I, for one, am ready to get back to normal.

Not because I don't enjoy working from home, or the slower pace of life under a stay-at-home. But because I want all the conservative snowflakes out there to shut the hell up.

I'm putting this on my blog because no one, and I mean no one, reads it. If I put this up on traditional social media, I'd get my head handed to me. And I like my head right where it is.

First of all, small businesses. Yes, you're struggling. But when your supporters come out with this meme:

[Enter halos] Remember all those fundraisers we supported? Now's the time to support us. [Halos exeunt]

the only response that came to mind was every time I asked a small business for fundraiser help, they'd say, "Sorry. We can't help every person who comes through the door looking for money. If we did, we'd go broke. And we have a kid we know who's already got all our fundraiser money."

So here's my response: "Sorry, I can't support every small business out there, what with your surly service and high prices. Besides, I'm gonna have to go to Home Depot anyway because it's highly likely you don't have what I need."

Second of all, politics. STOP. POLITICIZING. THE. VIRUS. The next person who does this to me will not only get a punch up the bracket and further abuse, they and the party they support will not get my vote. And that goes for all your wannabe third-party candidates who think you're going to rise on a wellspring of goodwill from these same conservative snowflakes who can't handle being told what to do.

NO ONE'S GONNA TELL US WHAT TO DO seems to have replaced E PLURIBUS UNUM somewhere along the line.



And just this morning the city cancelled the Fourth of July Parade. Now, parades. I can leave them. I mean, sometimes you get free chocolate milk at them, but to say I want to sit in the sun with a buncha freaks on the sidewalks and get sunburned to see tractors roll by pulling beauty queens and local politicians of the conservative snowflake variety, I don't.

But there's a certain factor of our society that's going to say ZOMG! the city CANCELLED the FOURTH OF JULY!

I, for one, believe we can do more to respect our country than to do showpiece performance theatre like parades, but that's just my contrarian son-of-an-immigrant nature speaking.

Let me pause for a short moment of rationality.

If you want to support small businesses, do so. If you want to whine about the parade being cancelled, do so. If you want to be a conservative snowflake, do so. But stop acting like your way is the only way to behave, and that everyone who doesn't agree with you lock, stock, and Dolores has horns instead of that halo you nailed to the wall so you can pose underneath it every morning.

King of Nothing

Sometimes I wonder if the things I share with my kids ever get through.

Then tonight I went to YouTube to listen to this song, which reminds me a lot of my Dad, who called himself "King of Nothing" because of this song.



And I see this in the comments below:

Maybe I am penetrating the bureaucracy.

Getting Fancier

There are still a few things worrying me about this project, but the tile is quickly fading as one of the worries.

I still have to fasten the sink to the wall. But I have to have the floor done first so the holed in the wall are the right height.

Then I've got to replace the shower hardware. I don't want to replace any plumbing, so getting the right parts to fit might be a challenge.

But we're close. And since Isaac and Lexie helped me a bit, they were able to pass off a few requirements for the Home Repairs merit badge.

Still lots to do. Painting and the floor, for biggies. But this too shall pass.

Tile Going Up

So up goes the tile. And as happens with these kinds of projects, it's expanding. We decided that the half wall of tile behind the sink is going to extend behind the toilet as well. Shouldn't be a problem, as I followed the Barney Gumble Theory of Buying Tile:

After that case, the the other case, there's only NINE CASES LEFT. So I bought them all.

Changes in plan means I get to go to Home Depot again in the morning. Going to buy some more of the accent tile and some beveled edges. I was going to do trim edges, but Michelle decided she liked the beveled edge look better. I don't blame her.

I'm just glad it's finally to this point. Had so many delays and other little surprises with this project I never thought I'd get to the point of putting tile up. I just hope it's all still stuck to the wall in the morning.

Should be able to finish with the tile tomorrow, and maybe grout it on Monday. That doesn't do the floor, but that's coming next. Good thing is the floor in the room is so small it should be pretty easy to get it done. I already have one piece of Wonderboard, so one more will do it.

It wore me out, though. When we moved into this house seven or so years ago, I was digging trenches for a sprinkler system. I'm glad I"m not doing that now. I've aged a bit since then and digging trenches doesn't sound any fun at all now.

Ready for Some Warmth

There's a bit in 1986's "The Mosquito Coast" where the asparagus farmer, Mr. Polski, says to Charlie "Your father is the worst kind of pain in the neck: A know-it-all who's sometimes right."

That keeps coming to mind again and again these days. For some reason.

I can't find it on YouTube, which is a pity. There are clips from the movie, yes, but not this particular scene. And it's a good one. It's that innocent little bit of foreshadowing at the beginning of any great novel that comes to pass, even if you as the reader don't want it to. Because Charlie's father, Allie Fox, sets out to change the world in the wilds of Honduras. And brings the first trappings of the civilized society he sneers so contemptuously at when he lived with his family in Massachusetts.

So there's that.

And there's this: A Facebook friend asked whose fictional character's death "really got to you." My response:

This is not a death, but the ending of the story of Samwise Gamgee in "The Return of the King" gets me every time I think about it.

He carried Frodo through Mordor. He briefly carried the One Ring. Of anyone in the Fellowship, including Gandalf, only Sam knew what his master went through, and continued to endure long after the adventures were over and the Shire scoured.

And in groups, he saw his friends leave for the Undying Lands.

The last time he returns from the Grey Havens and Rosie puts his little girl in his lap and he says, "Well, I'm back," that rips at my heart.

Yes, he follows his companions to the Undying Lands. But that's after a long life of living without them. He experienced a long life of joy, mingled with grief.

Which of course came in part from this, which I shared on Facebook today:

We continue in our era of joy mingled with grief. And some of us behave like the elves, wishing for stasis, that the peace enjoyed a thousand years ago could still be enjoyed today.

But the world changes. And while we don't have to change with it, we can't waste away, pining for the more peaceful times. Because our hope lies elsewhere.

But even then. We go on, like Samwise Gamgee, living the best life. Serving others. Loving those dear to us. But not forgetting where we came from and where it is we can go when all is done.

* * *

On to different things.

The stay-at-home order has been extended through the end of the month. No real surprise there. And this week, it's been cold, with a bit of snow.

I'm ready for some warmth.

SEND HELP

So here we are, entering the third week of the stay-at home order. It's supposed to expire on Wednesday. We'll see what happens (and whether I'm off on the date; it's getting hard to tell).

Last week, worked for almost half-time. Today, worked only an hour. Document reviewing is spotty as I'm not sure who's working and who has access and who is just hiding in the woods, hoping to avoid everything as the virus burns itself out.

I'm a little tired of it all.

One ray of sunlight: My class is almost over. Seven papers to grade and I can turn in my grades and be done with teaching until next week. That hardly seems fair. I'm ready for that summer, seven-week break from it.

I'm trying to hold it together. But it's tough. Since I'm home a lot, that means a lot of stuff I'm trying to do at home. That bathroom remodel, for example. I'm still in the reconstruction phase. Finally did get the new heater put in last weekend and managed not to burn the house down doing it. And I'm close to the point I can start putting tile on, to see an end to the job. But not tomorrow. I've got to seal and waterproof things first. But I've got to get done with my class first. I don't need all this happening at once.

Another bright spot: Held our third virtual Scout meeting today. Next week, we'll finish up the Family Life merit badge for all but one Scout, and that's great. We'll also try to do a board of review for our newest Second Class Scout, and we're planning a virtual campout for that following weekend.

But I'm tired. I need a little break from the house. But sneaking out is harder now.

"Do Something, Cat."

Believe me, I understand the impetus to do something.

Although, maybe I don't.

This past week alone, I've met a lot of people doing something. Mostly related to the coronavirus, of course. Which is fine. Admirable. But don't get disappointed if I don't do something alongside you.

Three groups this week. Very busy Facebook groups. Today, one is taking us on a whirlwind tour of local restaurants we should be supporting during the stay-at-home crisis. And all I can think is, "You know, maybe you should have done that virtually. You know, staying home."

But that puts the Libertarians on Facebook (TM) aghast. How dare ANYONE infringe on my right to do anything? HOW DARE YOUR SIR? Because we're on the slipper slope to the Holocaust or the gulags because there's NOTHING in between being asked to limit our trips and being frog-marched into the wilderness to labor for The Man.

See, I don't understand "doing something."

Maybe it's my nature. I'm a little more laid back than some. and that's DANGEROUS, DANGEROUS the do-somethings say.

Well, it's not like I'm not doing anything. I just don't see a lot of utility in what the do-somethings are doing.

Maybe I should try harder.

And maybe they should wind the paranoia back a few dozen notches.

"Is this the Krusty Krab?"

Weird day, truth be told.

Started at about 3 am when the rain, pounding on the roof, woke me up. Then again at 6, when the alarm went off. Lounged in bed for a few minutes, but then Michelle and I were off to Home Depot and Walmart for another early-morning anti-virus run. We picked up electrical and plumbing stuff for the bathroom, and then spent three hundred dollars -- don't ask me how -- on food.

Still can't fathom how we did that. That's a lot of money.

Anyway. I started working on the bathroom again. Had to go backwards a bit, taking down some of the Wonderboard so I could run some electrical wire behind it for a heater we're putting in. But round about noon, that got interrupted by a call from work -- they finally had my Mobikey working so I could start working from home.

Getting the key was a bit of a cluster. There were a few people waiting, and of course I forgot to bring my bag in which I've hidden my passwords, so they had to re-do the one they needed me to use to log in. But log in I did. Then I got home, spent an hour updating the key and got to work about 2 pm. Worked through until 5:30. It's not like there's a lot of work out there, but remoting into my desktop at RWMC was S-L-O-W. Took more than an hour, for example, to update one section of one procedure. I had three more to do, and I got through only two of them, and that's just the editing, not getting them out for review. So on to that tomorrow.

Does it feel good to be back to work? In a way, yes. I want them to realize they still need me. But I wouldn't have said no to additional free time to work on the bathroom. And then I have a class to button up for this time next week. So I know what I'll be doing this weekend.

What news?

The church on Sunday issued a new proclamation on the restoration of the gospel. Which is nicer than a monument, one of the ideas President Nelson said had been bandied about. We've been asked to fast again, this time on Good Friday, to plead for health and economic stability. We can do that.

Also today, the state school board announced they plan to keep schools closed through the end of the school year, unless local conditions -- which they haven't set yet -- warrant re-opening them. Me, I'm doubtful we'll see schools re-opening in the cities. Maybe in the more sparsely-populated areas.

Some good news: I got around the one tricky corner with my electrical wire, so only one more bit to go and the wire's roughed in and I'm a happy little man. That means, after a bit more carpentry, I can finally put the Wonderboard back up and get it sealed before I start the tiling job. And when the tiling comes in, that means the END IS COMING. Of the remodel. Not of everything else.

So this is not the Krusty Krab. And I am not Patrick. But I'm feeling accomplished today.

After All We Can Do

So, at home this week. It's been weird.

Weirder yet when Danny called at about 9 am Wednesday and said due to an uptick in demand for editors, they were going to get me a key so I could work remotely at home.

Since then, nothing. I imagine Blake, the IT guy I get along with the most, seeing my name on a list for key-needers and saying "Eh, he doesn't really want one," and putting my request at the bottom of the pile.

We'll see what happens Monday.

I wouldn't mind going back to work, though. Not that this past week has been bad. I just don't want them to forget I'm useful.

Or that I'm really getting used to this:

I did dream about going back to work last night. Our offices had been moved to an abandoned shopping mall. There were desks and computers and cubicles everywhere. But the one that had been assigned to me was taken by someone else. I managed to pick up my mail, walked past a souvenir stand where two ladies were fighting over a plush Grumpy the Dwarf doll, and then I found an empty conference room where I could sit, but no computer.

Bathroom remodeling continues. The state, as of yesterday:

It looks like I'm making progress. But alas. If you look behind the sink, that little black square is a wall pan for a new heater, replacing the one that was underneath the sink cabinet. It can't go on the wall anywhere behind the sink, because either the sink or the plumbing is in the way. So it's going to go in the opposite wall, meaning I have to take down some of the Wonderboard I've got up in the shower area so I can run some electrical wire. Won't be that bad to do, but it does feel like a step backward. But it'll get the heater in that Michelle wants.

Note also we can't re-use the old faucet from the sink. The pedestal sink calls for something fancier. So Monday morning, 6 am, I'll head to Home Depot to find a replacement.

Shopping -- and no work -- has been the biggest disruption for us. Stores are weird. I go to Home Depot at 6 am to avoid the lines, not that I suspect there are lines anymore anyway. People are getting a bit more used to the pandemic restrictions. We even managed to find toilet paper at our last trip at Winco earlier this week.

Online shopping is bonkers, probably worse than going to the stores. I haven't looked myself, but Michelle says she's seen quadrupling, and quadrupling again, of prices for food. She tried to order some stuff from Walmart online, but their system flat out wasn't working, probably due to increased demand.

And it's Conference weekend. Blessed conference. We've been asked by President Nelson to hold a special fast on Good Friday, next week, for additional help from the Lord in beating the pandemic. So we'll do it. It's our chance to show our faith, after all we've been asked to do.

And what have we done? Well, stayed home for the most part. I'm trying to convince Isaac and Lexie to earn the Home Repairs merit badge as they can do most of the stuff in it working alongside me, but that's an uphill battle against cell phone technology and friends who are equally stir crazy. They started online classes Wednesday (or Thursday, it's hard to tell with our days blending together a little bit). I think they're going okay, though they're on a really shortened schedule (probably for the best) and doing a lot of their work on their own. So it's like an online class through BYUI, which isn't all that bad. They have cancelled senior projects for the year, officially, which has made Lexie pretty happy. Not that she doesn't want to choreograph her ballet dance, but it does mean she doesn't have to write the associated research paper.

Sounds like one of the dogs did an unauthorized indoor poop. Better go check.