Day 122

Day 122, self quarantine:

Tuesday, July 14, 2020.  

So I blew the 35th anniversary of Live Aid yesterday.

https://www.phillymag.com/news/2020/07/10/live-aid-history/

Naturally, Gary and I were there at JFK Stadium to see it live in Philadelphia.  I was three months pregnant with Julie and had the morning sickness from hell - actually, I  wish it was morning sickness, it lasted all freaking day for all nine months and I couldn’t go anywhere without a bag to throw up in.

So of course I had to go to Live Aid, how could I miss standing in a three mile long

line for the ladies room every five minutes in 95 degree heat?

I was pregnant, I also had to pee every five minutes.

Damn straight I played the pregnancy card, screaming like Throw Momma from the Train from the back of the line, “Coming through, coming through, I’m with child!  Coming through, I’m gonna be sick!”

And the wall of wasted females magically parted.

I tried to time my bathroom trips while bands I didn’t love were on stage.  Haha, my first trip was right away as soon as we got there that morning during Joan Baez.

If I remember correctly, I planned lengthy bathroom

trips during Run DMC and REO Speedwagon, too, but nature also interfered and I still weep over missing Tom Petty when I threw up my water ice.

Ugh, it was red, white and blue water ice.  I’ll never forget it.  Gary bought it for me in a panic when I told him I was passing out from the heat.

I know, right?  But I had to be there.  And I’m so glad I stayed for the entire concert.

It was spectacular.

Is it a coincidence Julie, born six months later, is a musician?  I think not.

So last night we passed on the fancy dinner we planned yesterday.  Jake was “off” and Gary and I stressed and overreacted all day.

He’s fine.

But man, I wish someone would invent a translator for dogs so they could tell you what’s wrong.  It’s just brutal when they’re sick or when you’re neurotic and think they’re sick.

Anyway...

I think that’s it.  I’m actually too freaked out about what’s going on with the virus to talk about it today.  But fear not, I’m reading enough about it for all of us and if I think it’s time to eat whatever the hell you want whenever you want, I’ll let you know.

As if I’m not there already.

As if I’m not always there.

😂😂😂

Oh well.  I should get to work early today,

Okay.

Peace out.

Day 121

Day 121, self quarantine:

It’s Monday, July 13, 2020.

Most of us began our quarantine at the close of business Friday, March 13, 2020, a whole ‘nother lifetime ago.

Happy four month anniversary.

Oy, one-third of the year indoors.  I thought we were a couple of weeks away from that auspicious milestone.

That’s four months without:

Human contact other than whoever we live with.

Live music, movies, theater.

Museums.

Professional sports.

Eating in restaurants.

Going outside without a mask.

Etc. etc. etc.

And there’s no end in sight for most of it.

But hey, at least I got a haircut.

How long until we shut down again?

Florida just recorded 15,000 new cases in one day and what did they do?  Reopened Disneyland so that every idiot who visits comes back and infects all of us.

Goddess grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.

Okay, I’ll try. 

What choice do I have?

It’s too scary to think about
so I won’t.

In other news, because I was off for three days and I was feeling chill, I cleaned the house and then Gary picked up a couple ridiculously gorgeous bunches of flowers at the farmers market, and everything just looked so pretty to me I walked around with my phone snapping pictures and here they are.

The food you know about, though as you can see, I got a surprise of white raspberries on my plate and I wait all year for their once a year only appearance in July so despite soft scrambled eggs with cheese and spinach and sweet almond biscuits, those raspberries stole the show.

The pics of me’n’Jake and the inside of our car were taken yesterday while we waited for Gary outside Trader Joe’s.  I tried to capture the bored millennials standing in line waiting to shop and the nervous, over zealous employee who kept trying to squirt hand sanitizer on everyone but I think I blew it.

Oh well, you can imagine the whole scenario, I’m sure.

The tomatoes I will tell you about tomorrow.  If you’ve ever eaten at Village Whiskey or any of Jose Garces’ other restaurants, I got my grubby little hands on his recipe for herb tomato pickles and Gary made them yesterday for a large  component of tonight’s dinner.

Tomato pickles, you ask?  Maybe the most delicious way you will ever eat a cherry or grape tomato.

Wait until you see what we’re having.  This may be Gary’s finest accomplishment yet, with the menu created by me.

The pic of Jake is Jake giving me a not so subtle reminder he wanted dinner last night even though he knows Gary is the chef.   Haha, I’m Jake’s medium.  He implores me with those eyes and I shout out to Gary.

Gary makes him a grass fed burger every night.

I know.  I want Jake’s life, too.

The vegetarian version.

Wait a sec, I kinda have it.

When I retire, I will have it!

Haha when I spoke with my accountant on Saturday after he had a chance to review all our tax stuff, the first thing he said to me was, “I see Gary’s retired!  Why aren’t you?  You guys are in great shape, what are you waiting for?”

Haha, welp, my birthday on August 17 for one thing.  

After that I’ll let the virus dictate.

Goals, people.  

You gotta have them, now more than ever.

Sigh...I know.  Trust me, I know.

Go forth and conquer anyway.