In which Covid catches up with me and I ask: What if?

I remember how careful we were during the first weeks of the Covid-19 plague. We got our groceries delivered, left on the porch or (if snowing) just inside the front door. The deliverer wore a mask and we work masks. We brought the groceries into the kitchen and wiped them down with disinfectant and, early on, wiped down each plastic and glass container. They told us that was SOP now, be careful, don't let this coronavirus sneak into your home, invade your nose or mouth, and send you to the hospital where you might not make it out alive. The grocery stores ran out of disinfectant wipes and spray and toilet paper. Our neighbor's son, just back from overseas wars, felt challenged by the circumstances and prowled the town looking for TP -- and usually found some, maybe a few rolls or a four-pack but nothing like the eight-pack we use in the average week. He was a master scrounger, much like James Garner's character in The Great Escape and the plucky William Holden in Stalag 17. In the latter film, Marshal Dillon's brother, Peter Graves, turns out to be a Kraut spy, which made sense with his Nordic good looks. Arness, meanwhile, went to war and was wounded at Anzio and returned to become a vegetable-like alien electrocuted by the good guys in 1950's The Thing (watch the skies!) and showed his range by becoming all-around good guy Matt Dillon in Gunsmoke. 

But I digress. We took precautions in those pre-inoculation days. We stayed home. When we did leave the house, we wore whatever masks we could find such as the Colorado Rockies masks I found online late one night. Family members got their first shot in February, followed by another in May. There was something about that shot that gave me some hope, took me be back to a childhood where it was our patriotic duty to fight polio with infused sugar cubes and later lining up for shots at my elementary school. The scientists were in their labs! There was nothing Americans couldn't do! We soon would be practicing our golf swing on the moon!

Crazy days, right? I skated through, avoided the plague like the plague. It was so nice when life opened up again, when we could convene at the movies or at concerts. We went through some political difficulties when Prez T thought the plague was all made up and did almost nothing EXCEPT get the vaccines rolling out to all Americans or at least all Americans that weren't anti-vaxxers. He gets credit for that but it helped little in the election even though he had experts such as Rudy Giuliani and The Pillow Guy as advisors. Then came the pre-inauguration Capitol Riots and finally a president that believed in science and wasn't a buffoon.

Which brings us to today. My son brought Covid home and we all caught it. This surprised me as I had received five Covid immunizations including the 2023 booster and, for good measure, was inoculated against the seasonal flu and RSV. I shouldn't be sick, but I am. At the tail end of this thing, I hope. In our household of four, I am the only one still testing positive. Beginning in the second week of 2024, I accumulated the symptoms until I finally understood that I had a case of Covid. I thought I had Covid. We had used up all of our antigen tests so we ordered free ones from the Feds which took seven days to arrive and then paid for tests that rapidly flew off the shelves. I needed a trip to the hospital ER to get a Covid test. And I was positive. Hey doc, I asked the bleary-eyed resident, what are my treatment options? We have nothing for you, he said. I thought he was kidding but he was not. I was not eligible for the Paxlovid-type infusions my daughter was getting. Heart patients don't tolerate it, said the doc. And I am a heart patient. So, my treatment regimen became Tylenol for headaches and body aches, Mucinex DM and Robitussin for my hacking coughs, and don't forget to take your cardiac meds. He also said I should drink plenty of liquids and try some chicken soup. 

They released me into the wild and I still test positive which keeps me at home. I sit by the window and watch the snowflakes fall. Today the flakes are melting, providing nourishing H20 to my flower bulbs. 

I am lucky. I welcomed those Moderna-made shots into my body and for the most part they did their job. I am sobered by the fact that I was very sick for 26 days. If I caught it in Covid's early days, I would have been very, very sick. I am in Covid's bullseye. I am an elderly man with a heart condition. Covid would have ripped through me as it did with so many. I lost my stepmother and two of my high school friends. Millions died. We don't actually know the real numbers due to some of the lunkheads in charge of our larger states, DeSantis and Abbott to name two. I thought about this at 3 a.m. when a cough woke me up and sent me out to meditate in my easy chair. 

What if? 

Botanist Trevor Bloom doesn't like what he sees in Wyoming's early wildflower blooms

This April 6 WyoFile post brings us more good news about global warming:

Wyoming botanist Trevor Bloom spotted his first springtime blooms of the year on March 28. Bloom, while tracing the footsteps of famed ecologist Frank Craighead at Blacktail Butte in Grand Teton National Park, saw the orogenia linearifolia, or snowdrop, wildflower. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a wildflower, besides a dandelion, flowering in March,” Bloom said. The snowdrop bloom was nearly a month earlier than Craighead had recorded in the 1970s. “It means we’re probably going to have a very early spring this year. It probably means that we’re going to have very low water levels, and we’re probably going to have an increased risk of wildfire this year.”

So, early spring, lack of snow, low water levels, and more fires. Ah, summer in the Rockies, 2022.

Seems as if we are ahead of schedule as far as bulb plants. Some of mine already are flowering. The Cheyenne Botanic Gardens show some early blooms in its “Hero Garden” of native plants. Not sure what effects the wild winds have had. Most plants seem to be deciding if it’s safe to raise their heads or if we will have our usual spring of snow and wind and cold punctuated by 60-degree calm and sunny days.

My home gardening will be limited this year. During The Covid Year, I commandeered the kitchen table to sprout my seeds. When June arrived, the containers on the porch were filled, absorbing the sun and hiding from hail. It felt normal, as if a plague wasn’t decimating the globe. We all had our survival; tactics. Some gardened, some baked sourdough loaves, others watched endless video loops on YouTube and TikTok. I gardened and read and wrote. Also, Netflix and Hulu.

I will buy some seedlings and plant seeds. I need to grow something. Call it a celebration of summer’s arrival. It may bring drought and fire. But I’m going to grow flowers and cherry tomatoes beneath my rooftop solar array. The pensive William Wordsworth, wanderer of England’s Lake Country, loved to conjure daffodils when resting on his couch.

They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Sunday morning round-up, Wild West edition

Cheyenne Frontier Days is underway. I live maybe a half-mile from Frontier Park, home of the rodeo and night concerts. On most nights, I can sit on my front porch and hear the concerts. Not so Friday night when Garth Brooks was on stage. I could hear a rumble way off in the distance but that's it. My wife and I saw Garth when he performed at the 100th anniversary of CFD. He's got that rock star in him, which sends him zooming all over the stage. One highlight of the performance is when Chris LeDoux joined him on stage. Chris was a country-singer who also rode the rodeo circuit. That gave him an edge on the CFD experience. Cancer took him in 2005. CFD celebrates him this year with a program and posters with original artwork of the LeDoux sculpture they unveiled this year. He means a lot to Wyoming. He bought his first guitar in Cheyenne as a kid whose father was stationed at Warren AFB. He later won at CFD and performed here. He bought a ranch near Kaycee in Powder River Country. Kaycee dedicated a pocket park to LeDoux after his untimely death. It's right off I-25. I used to stop there and sit by myself amongst the prairie flowers. Why? Peaceful. A great place to meditate. After awhile you don't even hear the trucks hauling goods from Denver to Sheridan. The birds, yes, and maybe a guitar note or two. 

I volunteered as greeter at the Botanic Gardens front desk yesterday. I volunteer Thursday and Saturday afternoons. Up until yesterday, the summer crowds have been heavy. Tourists are back on the road after the Covid hiatus and they are drawn to our fine gardens which includes the Conservatory, Children's Village, and nine acres of outdoor gardens. CFD claims most of the attention during the last week of July. The afternoon rodeo and the night concerts are packed. The Indian Village, the vendor fair, and Old Trail Town claim the rest. Yesterday I was on the lookout for visitors in western gear and only one family of six fit that description. Must you wear western gear to CFD? Not mandatory but expected. Kind of like Wyoming's face mask directive -- never mandatory but expected (kind-of). I don't go anywhere without my mask. The Botanic Gardens brought back its big plexiglass sneeze barrier for the duration. We volunteers, mostly seniors, urged the staff to take precautions in what could be a super-spreader event. The Conservatory also kept its distance protocol, although nobody pays it much attention. Covid cases are up in the county, most of the ruthless Delta Variant. But we can't let an invisible bug get in the way of the county's biggest revenue generator. I enjoy the excitement. But I was fully vaccinated back in February. I know that most CFD attendees are on the conservative side. They believe the virus is a hoax and part of a vast liberal conspiracy that includes election-rigging, defunding the police, putting an abortion mill and a taco truck on every corner, force-feeding the 1619 Project to innocent schoolkids, and removing statues of heroic traitors and Indian-killers from our public squares.

Early in the Covid shutdown, I kept track of the stats on these pages. I gave it up as I lost hope that it would never end or I was an optimistic fool believing it would run its course either tomorrow or the next day or certainly the day after that. I was wrong on both counts. Get the latest stats from the Wyoming Department of Health.     

It's the Wolverines vs. the 2020 Pandemic in Michael Lewis's new book, "The Premonition"

The Johns Hopkins Coronavirus Resource Center web site has become the key Covid-19 site in the U.S. and probably worldwide.

Stats as of 5/13/21:

160 million-plus cases worldwide and 3.3 million deaths.

32.8 million U.S. cases and 584,371 deaths.

And the numbers keep going up, dramatically in some countries such as India.

In the U.S., Connecticut leads the nation in percent of population vaccinated at 42.5% and Mississippi, as it often is, is at the bottom with 23.8%. Wyoming ain't much better at 27.8%. National average is 36.2%.

Statistics are sobering. 

It didn't have to be this way. That's what I kept muttering as I read Michael Lewis's "The Premonition." It traces what could have been if the U.S. had a health care system designed for emergencies like the pandemic and not one geared to profits. The book is not a polemic about a fractured system. Instead, Lewis tracks the efforts of an odd group of citizens forced to face the fact that one day, a plague would be loosed upon the land. They called themselves the Wolverines after the young rebels in 1984's "Red Dawn" who take to the Colorado mountains to fight a Soviet invasion. It's a bit jingoistic but a fun Cold War romp. 

Lewis gave us the insiders' look at the stock market in "The Big Short" and a group of geek baseball statisticians in "Moneyball." Lewis's forte is exploring the people behind big issues, people we may never have heard of but who played a big part in complicated events. Both were made into good movies and "The Premonition" will be one of a rash of pandemic-themed movies and streaming series in the next few years. Lewis is a master at character development and storytelling. "The Premonition" reads like a good thriller and its subtitle "A Pandemic Story" shows the focus. 

I did not have any premonitions as I read. The unpleasant event has already happened. But I did see the writing on the wall. As the Wolverines gathered and tried to come up with a pandemic plan, they knew something bad was on the way. They also knew that the U.S., despite its hubris, was not ready. These Cassandras had a plan but how to get the clueless to listen? The Centers for Disease Control had become a shadow of its former self. Most experts concentrated on vaccine development rather than what steps to take while awaiting a vaccine, steps that had proven effective in the past.

One of the most interesting aspects of the story is the origins of the core group. In 2005, an advisor to George W. Bush recommended a recently-published book to the president. The book was "The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History" by John M. Barry. I was surprised that Bush read it and convened a task force to plan for the next pandemic. It's not like he wasn't busy elsewhere in the world. But he gets credit for acting on a real threat. Plans were drafted and were refined during the Obama administration. We had a plan but then along came Trump.

Another eye-opener: leaders do not need all of the information when an emergency arises. They need to act, even in the face of massive criticism. The example that keeps cropping up is "Churchill vs. Chamberlain." As a leader, will you see the danger ahead, speak out, and eventually find yourself in a position to lead (Winston Churchill). Or do you see yourself as a Neville Chamberlain, more interested in maintaining the status quo, "peace in our time" in this case? As England's prime minister, he made mistakes but he led, pugnacious to the end of the war and the end of his political career.

In the face of the gathering storm, U.S. leaders in 2020 failed to act. For that, they should be judged harshly. Lewis could have spent 300 pages telling us about Trump's many missteps. Instead, he shows us that there was an alternative universe of statisticians, physicians, and civil servants convinced that a plague was coming and we could plan and we could act.

Lewis ends the book deep into the pandemic with the story of Carter Mecher's parents. Mecher is known as the "redneck epidemiologist" in the book and is a members of the Wolverines. After all his work on the disease, he is torn asunder when his aging father gets Covid-19, passes it on to his mother and she dies. In the epilogue, "Sins of Omission," the writer follows one of the main characters, physician and former county health officer Charity Dean, as she seeks the grave of a former patient in a vast California cemetery. We get into Dean's head as she ponders her ability to sense things. But now, late into the pandemic, she now knows that, with communicable diseases, we are always looking into the rearview mirror. 

Covid had given the country a glimpse of what Charity has always thought might be coming -- a pathogen that might move through the population with the help of asymptomatic spreaders, and it had a talent for floating on air.... Now that we knew how badly we responded to such a threat, we could begin to prepare for it.

The French have a term, apres nous, le deluge, supposedly uttered by the despot Charles XV. The basic translation is after we're gone, the flood will come but we don't care.

That could easily be a Trump phrase although it's a bit too poetic for him. It is reminiscent of the slogan written on the back of First Lady Melania Trump's coat: "I really don't care do U?

I prefer to leave with some lines from Jackson Browne's "Before the Deluge." He speaks of another crisis, the looming climate disaster, but it also applies to the current deluge: 

And when the sand was gone and the time arrived 

In the naked dawn only a few survived 

And in attempts to understand a thing so simple and so huge 

Believed that they were meant to live after the deluge 

After the deluge, the Wolverines abide.

Covid-19 still rages but health workers making progress with vaccinations

I received my first Covid-19 injection on Jan. 15. I saw a message Wednesday on the MyChart page of the Cheyenne Regional Medical Center. It said that those 70 and over could call a number and make an appointment for the Pfizer vaccine, part one. I called immediately and was surprised to get through the first time as the MyChart message said that lines would be busy and callers should leave a call-back message. I didn't have to.

On a cold Friday afternoon, I joined the queue at the CRMC Health Plaza on 20th Street. Three other oldsters lurked ahead of me but we all got into the inner sanctum quickly. The nurses briskly got us to the injection room. My nurse was close to my age. I handed in my paperwork and she shot me in my right arm, the one I use all of the time. That was the point, as movement is important on cutting down the pain and stiffness that goes with the shot. It must have worked as I had no pain and stiffness the next day although I felt a bit fatigued. That was my only symptom. My follow-up shot is Feb. 12 at the same time, same place.

I felt lucky to get my shot so quickly. When I posted the news on Facebook, I had a number of friends asked how I got an appointment. I gave them the news and the number to call. Not sure if they succeeded. You hear all sorts of stories. Busy phones, long lines, three-hour waits. Florida has had trouble as the Governor ordered shots for everyone 65-and-older, a teeming cohort in the Sunshine State. The vaccination stations were overrun. News got out that you didn't have to be from Florida to get a shot so "vaccine tourism" was born. A few days ago, a state government spokesperson announced that shots from Miami to Pensacola, Tampa to Daytona, were restricted to Floridians. So much for vaccine-based travel.

Chris was able to get her injection at the Laramie County Department of Health. She's a youngster at 64. But she works with children at the YMCA which moved her into the educator category and eligible for round one.

My daughter here in Cheyenne and my son in Tucson await their injections. They're youngsters yet I hope they get on the list sooner than later.

In their weekly Friday Covid report (Week 45), WyoFile wrote that health workers in the state had administered 28,889 first doses but less than 5,000 had received their second doses. That's a start. Wyoming has a population of about 580,000. Many live in rural areas which makes the task even more daunting. The Pfizer vaccine had to be stored at sub-freezing temps. Most hospitals are up to standards but not every town has a hospital or even a healthcare clinic. Many live way out of town and it's winter out there which could make travel by the 65-plus cohort even more challenging. 

We also have a new variant of Covid in the state. From WyoFile: 

Health officials, however, remain concerned about the discovery of the UK variant in the northwest pocket of the state, where case counts are soaring. The variant infected an adult male and early information suggests he was exposed to the virus variant locally, the Department of Health said.

State Health Officer Dr. Alexia Harrist was not surprised by the discovery, she said in a release. 

“However, this strain is more transmissible than previous COVID-19 variants and that is a serious concern,” she said. In fact, Teton County is being gripped by a surge that has prompted health officials to move it into the highest category for COVID-19 risk, “critical. 

Teton County is approximately seven travel hours from Cheyenne, and that's on a good day. Add another hour or two for bad weather. 

Still, Covid has shown an amazing ability to quickly cross the globe. Thousands of miles are no impediment to a virus. Other variants include California, South Africa and Brazil. The U.K. strain is rampaging across its namesake country. Now named B117, it has been found in 50 countries. Experts guess that it could cause a 30-40 percent increase in deaths. 

Johns Hopkins now counts 2,109,758 deaths worldwide and 419,058 in the U.S. Wyoming has recorded 571 deaths. 

So, get your vaccine when you can and always wear a mask. Stay home, if possible. And keep posted on news from the Biden administration. Those folks actually have a plan to coordinate vaccinations across the country.  

Nursing home signs should read: Welcome to the Titanic. There are no lifeboats

I don't always read the AARP Bulletin. It's a good publication with lots of helpful info for retirees like me. But, you know, there are books and the Internet and football and writing and "Queen's Gambit" on Netflix. 

This issue of the Bulletin carried a red banner crying SPECIAL EDITION and below that this header: "Covid-19 & Nursing Homes: An American Tragedy." It grabbed me because my stepmother died of Covid in a Florida long-term care facility. And I have been reading other articles on the subject since March and have been shocked with how many people my own age have died. I am 69 now but next week is my birthday and people in their 70s and 80s with underlying conditions are most vulnerable. I soon will be in that cohort.

This comes from the WyoFile weekly pandemic report, 12/11/20:

The Wyoming DOH has reported 321 Covid-19 deaths. That includes 128 in November, the most of any month so far. Many of these have been related to long-term care facilities. Wyoming now ranks third in the country for its rate of nursing-home-related deaths, the Casper Star-Tribune reports.

So there's that. And this subhead from the Bulletin:

In one of the most devastating health debacles in our nation's history, some 54,000 residents and workers in long-term care facilities died of causes related to the coronavirus within four months of the first known infection.

The article spans the 18 weeks from Feb. 29 and the first death in a Seattle nursing home to June 22. The best things are personal stories of patients, family members and health-care workers. Cami Nedleigh relates the story of her mother, Geneva Wood, a resident of the Life Care Center of Kirkland, Wash. Wood went into Life Care in late January to recover from a stroke. She was supposed to be released in early March but fell and broke her hip the last week of February. She stayed in Life Care. 

This from Wood: 

My roommate was coughing. Everybody was saying bronchitis. The I got a cough and could barely breathe. Thought it was pneumonia. I remember them saying I had a 102 fever. I guess I didn't know enough to be scared.

And Nedleigh: 

Mom got better, thankfully. She's a tough old Texas broad. But Mom's roommate didn't make it.

The article conjures scenes of chaos and bravery. In the first week of March, 27 of 108 residents and 25 of the 180 staff had the virus. And nobody really knew what it was and how to treat it. This led to many deaths.

Timothy Killian (Life Care spokesman): We all grew up with these movies about pandemics, in which the government vans swoop in and take control. As the situation escalated and the facility went into lockdown and people started dying. I kept expecting some type of coordinated response, but we saw nothing of that nature.

The facility, of course, gets some of the blame. Killian had obviously seen "Contagion" and "Outbreak." In the latter film, a monkey has the virus and ends up in a California small-town pet shop and starts spreading the virus. The commanding general of the national response team won't act because he knows the virus came from an Army bioweapons lab. Epidemiologists Dustin Hoffman and Renee Russo sneak into the site and start doing their good deeds while the evil general (the usually heroic Morgan Freeman) makes plans to seal off the town and bomb it to destroy the evidence. The most memorable scene takes place in the town's packed movie theater. A virus carrier coughs and we see spit flying around the room in slow motion, landing in people's mouths. Aw hell no, you might say. And you'd be right. 

It hits a bit close to home. Covid carriers were still going to movies in March and spreading the virus to seatmates. Asymptomatic carriers were going out to crowded bars and attending parties. The virus was in pandemic heaven, latching on to many new human hosts and spreading which is what viruses do.

You can read parts of the Bulletin story at the AARP web site. Kudos to David Hochman and contributors for the story. It appears just as the FDA approves the Pfizer vaccine and hope emerges. That doesn't help the many dead and dying in the U.S., almost 300,000 at last count, with a 16 percent fatality rate in long-term facilities. Compare this to the total U.S. fatality rate is 2.3 percent. 

This final quote is from Judith Regan, a publishing executive whose father, Leo Regan, is a resident of the Long Island State Veterans Home, site of 32 deaths:

The residents and staff are being led to slaughter. He is on the Titanic, but there are no lifeboats.

The week in pandemic news

I wish I could report to you that the pandemic is over. Alas--

Wyoming Dept. of Health, Nov. 14: Seventeen more Coronavirus-related deaths reported.

WyoFile weekly report:

Wyoming reached a critical point in its battle with COVID-19 this week as patient loads overwhelmed hospitals, healthcare workers and contact tracers, prompting the governor to announce plans to tighten health orders for the first time since spring.

Casper Star-Tribune, Nov. 15: Daily Wyoming coronavirus update: 613 new cases, 206 new recoveries (firewall)

Gillette News-Record, Nov. 13: County health officials ask Gordon for mask mandate

AP News, Nov. 13: Wyoming Governor: 'Knuckleheads' behind Covid-19 resurgence

Wyoming Daily News, Nov. 13: Wyoming Governor won't implement mask mandate

When faced with knuckleheads spreading a lethal virus: "We don't need no stinkin' masks."

Go to the Covid-10 Information page to find the Wyoming Testing Location Finder. Chris tested last week after she and some other staffers were sent home after a possible workplace exposure. She was negative. Took less than 72 hours to get results. She is now in quarantine for 14 days. We hope to see her again for Thanksgiving. 

The Covid-19 watch: Trump hopes for an “October Surprise” coronavirus cure

The Covid-19 death counts recorded by the Johns Hopkins Coronavirus Tracker shows the U.S. leading the world with 6.26 million cases and 188,000 deaths. California leads the pack with Texas and Florida close behind. Wyoming is second-to-last ahead of only one U.S. state, Vermont, and four of its island territories. Wyoming lists only 4.006 cases with 42 deaths. The U.S. could soon have 200,000 with the possibility of 400,000 by the end of the winter’s flu season.

Those are the stats. The reality is that each of those deaths represents a story. Families grieve but at least they have memories and a story to go with them.

I have already told the story of my stepmother who died with the coronavirus and a handful of debilitating maladies. She was 94 and in a Florida nursing home (go here for the full story). She had more than three strikes against her, three strikes with two outs in the bottom of the ninth with the score tied. Sports references seem apropos in this time of fan-less Major League Baseball.

I watched the Rockies beat the Dodgers in L.A. last night. Two nights in a row! Cardboard fans watched and shouted electronic cheers. It is a surreal scene. Same with NBA games and their projected e-fans inside the Orlando bubble. The NFL begins next weekend and it should be really strange watching the cardboard cutout drunks in Denver’s South Stands with their boos and e-curses. Just kidding. The NFL will censor the real ruckus just as they banished Colin Kaepernick.

Meanwhile, our nation is headed up by a monster whoinsists we are about to turn the corner on the virus as he does everything he can to speed up the arrival of a miracle vaccine to make people love him and vote his way on Nov. 3. The ultimate October Surprise. A survey released yesterday said that 48 percent of Americans would not trust any vaccine that arrived pre-election. Count me among them. I am certain that his base of fans will gladly troupe to the inoculation centers in the hope that they will gain immunity from the flu and become a billionaire like Trump.

Trump’s fans are raging cultists who believe anything Fearless Leader says and contend that anything negative is “fake news.” You can’t reason with them so we must outvote them. It won’t be easy considering the GOP’s mania for voter suppression and gerrymandering. Their goal is to keep people away from the polls. They have an ally in that strategy: Vlad the Putin and his Russian Bots (not a bad punk band name). Trump invited them to be part of our elections in 2016. I’m sure that invitation still stands.

The best ally liberals have in this fight is the Lincoln Project, Trump-hating GOPers that are relentless in their video takedowns of the Orange Demon. Chris and I gladly donated to their cause. Not sure what tricksters Rick Wilson and his pals will do post-election. They would like to reconstitute the GOP. They have their work cut out for them due to the fact that the Trump cult will not be easily silenced. The Lincoln Project could be great allies with liberals in the struggle to bring representative government back to the U.S. Time will tell.

Summer of the Purple Pod Pole Beans and White Dwarf Cucumbers

Gardening vs. Farming.

Hobby vs. Growing Crops to Feed the Family and the Nation

I'm a hobbyist gardener. I am not growing a garden because my life depends on it. I am gardening because I enjoy growing things. I've been a gardener for many years in varied climate zones, from Wyoming to Florida. Unless you have a greenhouse or a Botanic Gardens Conservatory and Propagation Center, it's impossible to grow a Wyoming winter garden. Florida even names towns Winter Garden. When I lived in Central Florida, I had orange trees in my backyard and a garden in the ground, mostly growing root crops. The oranges were bitter because they were not grafted for sweetness. We used them to play fetch with our two big dogs. Root crops like potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots and beets went with our winter meals. I grew a few tomato plants and it was a constant battle with the bugs and rot and rust. Plenty of moisture, though, a factor when you're gardening at 6,220 feet. Cheyenne gets some rain but it's fickle. I see black clouds gather in the west, thunder shakes the rafters, the storm produces three drops of rain, and moves on the Nebraska. You're welcome, Huskers! Or black clouds gather in the west, thunder shakes the rafters, and ice balls rocket from the sky, shredding plant leaves and wrecking roof shingles and cars. 

It's the latter that made me put together a container garden for the summer of 2020. That, and lack of a gardener's mobility. The past few summers, I've gotten my gardening fix from propagating plants at the Botanic Gardens. And then coronavirus swept the world and forced the city to close the Gardens and send home all of its high-risk volunteers 65 and over. It didn't help that I'm a heart patient which makes the virus double deadly for me. 

I ordered seeds from the Laramie County Public Library Seed Bank. They were delivered by the United States Postal Service, one of the public services necessary for a functioning democracy (much like the library and the fire department). I planted them in pots in mid-May and was on my way. I planted in all of the containers I have accumulated over the years, some used by my Aunt Patricia who gardened in the challenging clime of Estes Park, elevation 7,523 feet. 

There were a few scary moments in May when night temps dipped below 40. Common wisdom here is that you wait until Memorial Day weekend to plant your seedlings. I had mine in pots so I could keep the young plants inside at night although I left out the seeded pots. The ground should be warm for germinating and mine remained warm enough to launch plants when the time came. 

You also have to account for strong cold winds. One year I put out seedlings on Memorial Day and the following week came a wind cold enough to freeze tomato leaves. So I had to start again. Hail is terrible, too. One summer I came home from work just in time to fetch my pots to the porch before the hailstorm came. I tried to put a tarp over the ground plants but got pelted by a few big stones and retreated. Golf ball size, mainly, with some bigger ones. The ground was covered when the storm moved east. My poor plants. I thought about farmers out on the open prairie who lost entire crops of soybeans and corn and probably their home gardens too. My loss was insignificant although it stung at the time.

Why bother? It's gratifying to grow things. This year, it helps keep away the Covid-19 blues. The food is great, especially the Gold Nugget cherry tomatoes I grew from seed. I've already picked enough for a half-dozen salads and pasta dishes with more to come. "Early and prolific," read the library seed packet. I grew Purple Pod pole beans in three containers. One is in a big pot with two Dwarf White cucumber plants and a flower mix that Chris got from the YMCA. The beans are an eerie purple and green and grow to absurd lengths if you're not vigilant. I took apart one of the pods to make sure no mutant life forms existed inside. I've eaten the beans in salads and stir fry and I swear that, late at night, garbled voices come from my innards.

I have pots with herbs and flowers, too. Can't barbecue without rosemary and basil and oregano. The lime and Thai basil plants that I bought at Lowe's have been prolific. The two rosemary plants not so much. I think I may have used the wrong potting soil or it's just not a great year for rosemary which comes from the Latin ros marinus which means "dew of the sea.". A few summers ago when I had only a herb garden, I plucked rosemary branches every third night and put them on the grill just for the scent. The next time I grilled, the 6-inch rosemary plant looked untouched. 

During Covid, newscasts have talked about the return of the Victory Garden. Mine could be one but I am not winning any wars over hunger. Lots of people are new to gardening. 

We've also been seeing a renaissance of farmer's markets. I haven't been this year due to the virus. I love our Saturday farmer's market. I go for the smells of roasting hatch chilis late in the summer and the Colorado peaches early in the season. I buy homegrown veggies from small farms in Colorado, Wyoming and Nebraska. I buy homemade olive oil and salsa, honey and peanut butter. 

In Wyoming, we have the Food Freedom Act where people can sell to us right from their homes with no government intervention. Meat producers have to use a licensed kill facility but can package and sell from the back of their pickup. I've had grilled grass-fed steaks and they're yummy with Colorado corn and mutant purple beans from my garden. 

Did you say something?. 

No road trip for me

I decided to cancel my Aug. 3 appearance at ARTCORE'S Music & Poetry Series in Casper. I was on a double bill with musician Lauren Podjun. Writer Gayle Irwin will replace me. I met Gayle through Wyoming Writers, Inc, our statewide writing group.

Why did I cancel? Covid-19. Knowing ARTCORE Director Carolyn Deuel as I do, I am sure that the Bourgeois Pig venue would be as virus-safe as possible. ARTCORE is one of the first local arts agencies in Wyoming. Carolyn has been at its helm for most of that time.

That said, there is one overriding problem. I am a high-risk human during this pandemic. I am 69 and a cardiac patient since 2013. I experienced a widowmaker heart attack and, because I delayed getting help, now walk around with an Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator or ICD in my chest. This makes me a prime target for the coronavirus. From the beginning, the top three riskiest groups are the elderly, cardiac patients and diabetics. I'm in the first two categories and Chris is one and three. Young, healthy people have caught the virus and died. Often, they also have pre-existing conditions. Any complication can be a deadly one. Young people like to gather and when they do, they pass along COVID-19 and being it home to older parents and other family members.

This doesn't have to be. Wear a mask. Practice social distancing and, if possible, stay home. And wash your hands. Sanitize kitchen and bathroom surfaces.

Wyoming Governor Gordon conducts COVID-19 briefings and has issued a series of orders. Those policies never included a mandatory mask policy which puts us in the company of such Coronavirus success stories as Florida and Texas. In March, the Governor did issue some strict policies that closed many businesses, performing venues, restaurants and coffee shops. He has gradually loosened the restrictions although he had to extend the latest one from July 31 to Aug. 15 due to a spike in infections that put us on the New York Times and Johns Hopkins COVID site hot zone charts. Today, Idaho is on the list due to rising cases. Tomorrow, it may be your state.

When I do get out of my bunker to the grocery store, I note that many people do not wear masks. I do. Employees do. Others don't. We've all seen mask-shaming and no-mask-shaming incidents online. I don't tell people what to do and that's the prevailing attitude in Wyoming. But the science is clear -- masks help protect you and those around you. Social-distancing does too, and that has been suggested to businesses around the state but not required. Grocery stores guide you with floor signs which keep us separated in line. Arrows point out directions for carts to travel, although that's violated regularly. No head-on casualties thus far, as far as I know.

No travel for me. No reading from my new book. That means I have to stay home to rewrite and revise, a major part of any writing enterprise.

So, in a time when getting out of the house is a blessing, I am not getting out of the house. I have lots of books and know where to get more without leaving home.

P.S.: U.S. COVID-19 death toll passed 150,000 today.

Hunkered down -- four months and counting

I posted my first blog about the pandemic on March 15. In "The pandemic comes to Wyoming," I mused about the deadly virus and the impact it could have on us. I don't have to read between the lines to know I was scared. The spiky virus laid in wait for us all. I had nightmares. Already there was a toilet paper shortage.

Four months to the day later and I'm still here. Still hunkered down, for the most part. I'm high risk so wear a mask when I go out. In the beginning, the only masks I could find were bandannas. I then graduated to hospital-style paper masks that my daughter brought home from her part-time job. Later I ordered cloth masks and we now have plenty. Not enough to share with all of the maskless shoppers at the grocery store. But enough. I still tend to buy too much food when I shop, especially non-perishable items such as canned milk, canned fruit, soup, and pasta. I'm versed on various ways humanity can perish thanks to books and movies. I go all the way back to the bomb shelter building days of the 1950s, duck-and-cover classroom drills. The threat was real then. We thought atomic fire would end us. Other threats lurked, less bombastic ones that could do us in.

And here we are.

If you add to that an imbecile in the White House, economic meltdown, global warming, racial strife, and unhinged evangelicals, we are in deep shit.

It also is a great time for creativity especially if it involves humor. Dark humor. The darker the better.

To be continued...

COVID-19 highlights lowlights are in the headlines

Some days, I get up and stare at the coronavirus news on my smartphone screen. I can access every news source on the planet and, even though most of them have paywalls, many allow me to read the headers and sometimes a bit of the story. Here are some lowlights from today:

New York Times:  With Virus Response, Governors Face Unending and Very Public Test

Denver Post: More Colorado families consider online education as COVID-19 risks look over upcoming school year

Reuters: Coronavirus cases hit 13 million, WHO sounds alarm

Miami Herald: This iconic Miami Beach hotel recently reopened. Coronavirus is making it close again

Wyoming Tribune Eagle: UW confirms a person working on campus contracted virus

And this: UW expects substantial enrollment decline

Toronto Star: Canadian snowbirds in flux as insurance firms deny them COVID coverage – but there is a solution

TrialSite News (Italy): University of Padua Vo Study: One Possible Hypothesis of How to Contain COVID-19

The Jakarta Post: Hong Kong Book Fair postponed amid spike in coronavirus cases

CNN: Trump turns on Fauci as disaster grows

Fox News: Local governments weigh tax hikes to plug coronavirus-induced shortfalls

The news is dismal on this Monday morning. It was dismal yesterday and the day before. The U.S., especially, is seeing spikes in the South and West. A sputtering economy tried to roar again but many leaders, even some Republican ones, on backtracking on their open strategies. The Atlanta mayor, a Democrat, has been diagnosed with the virus and is slowing its reopening which has made the Republican governor very mad. When I say mad I mean angry, although both apply in this case. Florida’s governor. A Trump ass-kisser, is moving ahead full speed on reopening. He plans to get school open next month, saying that if Wal-Mart can open so can schools. U.S. Education Secretary DeVos, a Trump flunky, tells communities to get kids back in school OR ELSE!

This could be a tragicomedy but it’s real. Very real. The Johns Hopkins University coronavirus tracking site lists more than 3 million U.S. cases and 135-plus thousand deaths. New cases are at 24,000 and climbing as it’s early yet.

Trump fiddles as the U.S. burns.

Chris and I are both high-risk and are staying home. I wear a mask when I do go out to the grocery store or fast-food drive-ups. Hunkering down is still SOP for us.

Good luck, wherever you are.

The "Poetry Apothecary" prescribes plenty of poetry and art

How have the arts been impacted by the pandemic?

Bigly.

No surprise, since the creating of art can be a solitary act but it's enjoyed with others. We gather for concerts, dance performances, plays. We gather in museums and galleries to appreciate the visual arts. We read singly yet gather for talks and book signings by writers. We gather in book clubs to celebrate our favorite writers and maybe drink some wine.

This is the summer of ungathering.

Many arts groups, not content to start planning for 2021, have come up with creative ways to reframe their events. Impromptu performances from city balconies. Zoom collaborations. Drive-in concerts.

I wrote about one of these groups this week for WyoFile's Studio Wyoming Review.

The coronavirus cancelled the annual June Jackson Hole Writers Conference, one of the most esteemed events on the country’s literary calendar. Since planning is done years in advance, staffers scrambled to put conference sessions online for free (registration is usually around $375) and only charged fees for critiques offered by faculty.

Matt Daly, assistant director of the JHWC, came up with the "Poetry Apothecary" that showcases visual arts and writing. The show is up at the Center for the Arts gallery until the end of July. The JHWC web site features a video tour (updated regularly) of the exhibit along with two other videos featuring artist/poet collaborations.

Daly proposed “Poetry Apothecary” well before the pandemic but needed to do some fancy footwork to adjust to the times. As he was helping to redesign the conference, he also was installing the show at the Center for the Arts. As anyone who works in the arts knows, fancy footwork is part of the job.

Read my Studio Wyoming Review article on the show on WyoFile. It was posted yesterday in a slightly edited form. 

All articles need editors. As one, I have revised, reframed, and rejected many stories. I tell young writers to expect changes to everything you write. My daughter Annie recently submitted a script to the True Troupe. The acting company is reviewing play scripts for the fall. Annie read one of my old short stories and transformed it to a one-act. She asked me to be thorough in my critique. I was. What I wasn't prepared for was Annie's interpretation of my story. She condensed and rearranged it. I had the chance to experience my work anew. She had workshopped my story before I had a chance to edit her. 

One of my Dad the Editor lines is "it's not finished until it's finished." She obviously was paying attention. My story, 15 years on, was still being finished. And it won't be finished yet. If the troupe adopts the script, the director and actors and crew will workshop it again. Lines may be dropped and lines may be added. Characters may change or disappear altogether. It's a wonderful process and not one for the faint of heart. 

Take some time to read Studio Wyoming Review. It's supported by WyoFile and grants from the Wyoming Cultural Trust Fund and the Wyoming Arts Council. 

And then there's this:

From noon to 12:30 p.m. on Thursday, July 23, “Prescribe,” a livestream "Poetry Apothecary" reading, will be presented in the Center for the Arts Mainstage in Jackson. Medical professionals read poems as acts of healing. Masks and social distancing will be in effect.

Life in the Time of Distancing

My sister-in-law, Ellen Berry, died last week in Florida after a three-year bout with lung cancer. She was 61.

She was a wonderful person and I will miss her. My wife Chris, her only sibling, was with her at home for five days before she passed. Chris was lucky to get a flight out at a decent price. She was in shock when Ellen’s husband Chuck called with bad news on Saturday morning, June 20. He came home from work on Friday evening and found her on the floor. She was rushed to the hospital and put in ICU.

Chris and I scrambled to get her on a plane from Cheyenne to Daytona Beach. She flew Delta on June 23 on a bereavement fare. She was thankful to be with her sister in the final days.

Chris stayed in Ormond Beach for the planned celebration of life. This morning, she called and said that it had been cancelled due to the coronavirus. In case you haven’t heard, Florida is one of the states where Covid-19 has spiked. Chris’s family decided that gathering for a wake was too risky for all, not just for the over-60 high-risk crowd but for everyone. Many young people have been admitted to hospitals in the last few weeks. They have also acted as disease spreaders, the Typhoid Marys of their generation.

It’s a sad thing when you can’t get together to send off a loved one. This is happening all over the world. We need these farewells just as we need the welcoming ceremonies for newborns. Joy and sorrow must be shared. It leaves a hole when it is not. Weddings, reunions, graduations all need to be shared. For those who can’t attend, the photos are gifts to be shared. They also provide mysteries for future generations. Who is that guy with Aunt Mary?

I feel that lack of togetherness today. Chris and I have been hunkered down at home since mid-March. No St. Patrick’s Day parties and now there will be no Fourth of July parties. I miss human contact. I grew up in a big family and we thrived on human contact. I’m also a writer and spend a lot of time by myself, just me and my imagination and my laptop. When I emerge from my den after composing a few pages of prose, I seek out people to bother. These days, most of that bothering is done by phone, e-mail, Zoom. My family members get together almost every Sunday on Skype. It’s a welcome connection. My siblings and their kids are mostly in Florida, a few hours’ drive from each other. I live in Wyoming, a few days drive or a day-long airplane ride away. We have family clusters in Georgia and North Carolina. A niece works in New Zealand and my sister and her husband live in Lyon, France.

While it is wonderful to see and hear relatives via laptop, I miss the in-person gatherings. In December, I attended my niece Meghan’s wedding in Atlanta. It was such a pleasure to shake hands and hug, so much of it in the four days I was there. It’s a small thing, this contact with another human, but now I miss it when it can’t be done. 

A pleasure center activates when we touch. It’s a rush. Sometimes, it’s scary or sad, as when a family member jets off to take a job a half-world away. Our rushed farewells are now at airport curbside. Maybe we get in a quick farewell as we hustle to the security line-up. Back in the day, you could see your wife all of the way to departure gate. You could hold hands and kiss right up until the final call. You could stand by the plate-glass window and see the plane back up and taxi out to the runway. If you were lucky, you could watch as it took off and disappeared over the horizon. Maybe it was worse to linger at the airport instead of being shooed away from the unloading zone by a robotic voice. 

My grandmother Florence, born a decade before the Wright Brothers flight, took my brother and me to lunch at the old Denver airport, Sky Chef I think it was called. We ate and watched the planes. There even was a balcony where you could stand outside and watch all of the comings-and-goings. I was fond of airports. I wasn’t always fond of flying, especially when I jetted away from loved ones, or jetted toward a loved one’s funeral.

Sadness has crept into everything. Hunkering down has had a price. People have lost friends and lost jobs. Police have killed people just for being black. We have a president and an entire political party that thrive on cruelty. We can’t go out to the brewpub and have a beer with an old friend. I wear a mask and I expect you to wear one even though I can’t see your smile.

During all of this, we have discovered humanity in unexpected places. Creativity, too. Let’s let those thrive as we figure a way out of this.

As the hymn says, gonna lay down my sword and shield

A viral plague kills thousands and forces millions to hunker down at home and practice social distancing when out in public.

Black Americans killed on the streets by rampaging police.

Millions of Americans lose jobs due to record unemployment.

The President of the United States hides in the White House guarded by armed troops and a fortified fence.

Riots in the streets.

Armed secret police of unknown origin face down peaceful protesters in the nation's capital.

This could be a blurb for a best-seller or an action-packed new movie.

Instead, they are news headlines.

That was the week that was. The U.S. is in deep do-do. Trump can't be blamed for it all. But he can be blamed for making it much, much worse. He is totally unfit for the highest position in the land. Where other leaders unite, Trump divides.

What makes it worse is that Trump is a lifelong racist and a narcissist. He can't look weak even when he is. He has all the traits of a schoolyard bully.

What does a person like this due when threatened? We've seen it. Brute force. He is the commander-in-chief and thus he commands unlimited power, or so he believes. He wanted to unleash troops on protesters. It's been done in the past but you have to go back the Vietnam War protests to see it in action. It happened but not to the extent we feared. Heads were beaten, rubber bullets fired, tear gas employed, arrests made. But the protesters didn't give up and critics of both political parties and a phalanx of retired U.S. generals condemned Trump's tactics. Protests have calmed down. The rioters have not been identified but you know they were radicals intent on watching the country burn. White supremacists. Anarchists. Black radicals.

The protesters cause is just. Peace prevailed. Many police sided with the protesters. A Tennessee National Guard unit laid down their shields after protesters sang the anthem of nonviolent protest.

I'm gonna lay down my sword and shield
Down by the riverside.

And study war no more...

I have a part to play in this. Not sure yet what it is. But it's clear we need to change the way government employees treat minorities. Not just police. Everyone up and down the chain of command including police and the President. I was a government employee for 25 years. Now retired, I wonder what I could have done better. As many have said, racism is a systemic problem. I am not a racist. But as a white guy, I worked for a system that perpetuated certain racist policies. It was built that way. I may have thought about that briefly during my public service. But how did I transform it to serve everyone's needs?

I was slightly woke but really blind and now I see.

What did I do in the arts that made a difference? And what can I do now?

Stay tuned...

Hunkered down at the pop-up drive-in on a May Wyoming evening

Our first public outing of the COVID-19 era was to a combination drive-in concert and movie. It was held in a pasture on the Terry Bison Ranch south of Cheyenne. It had a gentle slope so cars could park and most of us could see the inflatable screen and the covered bandstand. 

When we arrived about 7:15 p.m., a line of cars, trucks and SUVs stretched out of the ranch onto the I-25 service road. Chris said it was a sign that everyone is just aching to get out and do something normal and fun. I agreed. A great idea that entertains and keeps us safe. Kudos to the ranch and Blue Pig Productions. They planned for everything including the rain squall that swept through just as the headliner band started playing. We had seen the storm front assembling as we drove to the event along Terry Ranch Road. A typical one for late May. A black swatch against the sun lowering over the Rocky Mountains. Pretty and ominous. But these storms are hit or miss. Sometimes you get missed and sometimes you get hit. 

This one hit us just as we got settled into our space. The sounds of the warm-up band came over the car radio at 90.7 FM. Raindrops speckled the windshield as Sean Curtis and the Divide took the stage. As the band played the rain fell harder, swamping our windshield and the band. But they performed uninterrupted until the lead guitarist's amp shorted out and he had to flee. The rest of the band members played on, wet and cold. "I can't feel my fingers" said the bass guitarist after one of the songs. But they played on. Good stuff, too. A C/W band with a touch of alt-country and Americana, a sound a bit like Drive-By Truckers or Turnpike Troubadours. 

The emcee, Dominic Syracuse, had prompted us to applaud by honking our horns. We did. By the time the band wrapped up their last song, the sky was clearing and the sun colored pink the retreating clouds. 

We picnicked in the car. Daughter Annie joined Chris in a preemptive strike at the port-a-potties. Annie returned with some chicken nuggets and fries from the snack stand. I ate ham and cheese and crunched chips. Cookies for desert. I drank sparingly because I didn't want to face the trip to the johns with my walker. I would have felt silly, all those people staring at the poor cripple poking along on the prairie. I don't know why I should care but I do. More my problem than anyone else. 

Everyone returned to the car and the movie started after some of the staff adjusted the screen that kept tilting in the post-storm wind. Wyoming not the place for anything inflatable. We're seen inflatable Halloween and Christmas decorations flying down our street. Unanchored bounce castles have gone airborne in summer gusts. A brisk wind came through the annual Superday event a few years back and blew tent awnings and brochures and hot-dog wrappers to Nebraska. 

But "Back to the Future" came on with the darkness. There was only a brief period when the wind tilted the screen and the actors' heads disappeared. I forgot how much fun the movie was as I hadn't seen it for decades. I didn't think of COVID-19 for two hours. That's what it's about, right? We want it like the old days when people could venture out safely and go to concerts and drive-ins. We want to be closer to people that a car-length away but that's still in the future. 

The ranch staff cleared us out quickly. They had some cleaning-up to do and we had the trek home via the interstate. I hope the ranch does it again. This high-risk guy wants to stay safe but I also want to be back out in America again. Summertime America. It's a short season here in the High Plains. Short and glorious.

See you next time. 

Still sort-of hunkered down somewhere in Wyoming

Listening to "Dear Prudence" on WPR's Throwback Thursday. Song from the Beatles White Album. Not sure if I bought the White Album but listened to it a thousand times. Many of the songs were in the movie "Across the Universe," a movie that tugged at the nostalgia that comes with the 1960s.

Beautiful morning here in the High Plains. Heard some good news yesterday. The Cheyenne Botanic Gardens Conservatory opens for business on June 2. Only the ground floor will be open. Each group gets an hour to tour so more people can visit. Not sure how we're supposed to time them. "All right, people. Scram. Your hour's up. Vamoose!" Still, it shows a slight return to normalcy. I've been in touch with the staff over the shutdown. Talked to Amelia to see if we could arrange an August literary reading at the Conservatory. Amelia said that she's not booking anything new for the summer. They are going to rent out rooms for paying customers but nothing new until fall. Rick Kempa of Rock Springs asked me to schedule a summer reading for his new book and mine. I will try the library.

Masked up yesterday and ventured out to Lowe's to buy some plants and replace a window screen. I got the plants but no screen. I did get my money back. I had to wait in line six feet behind the first customer. Two people behind me. My cart was filled with plants, herbs and a few veggies, and some potting soil. The clerk, not happy, gave me my money back and pointed out the aisle where I could find screens if there were any. There weren't. Did find some twine to make a trellis for my herb rack. Trying to do everything on the cheap in this pandemic year. I planted herb seeds in egg cartons and then into pots. But two weeks later and no sprouts. The egg carton approach does not work for me. The soil and the egg carton gets soggy and I think it damages the seeds. Anyway, as I dug up the transplants yesterday there were no seedlings there, nothing of anything. I replaced the nothing with something. I had requested the free seeds from the library seed bank and thought I would be growing my garden from scratch this year. The other day I did plant seeds for cukes, pea pods, and pole beans and am waiting for them to sprout. I have two growing racks on the back porch that get full morning and early afternoon sunshine. I'll be doing more transplanting today.

Local business are opening up. A new downtown craft brewery opened on Monday. Black Tooth Brewery's second location -- its first in downtown Sheridan. During my work travels I visited the Sheridan site and liked it. Sheridan has a neat downtown with lots of indie businesses. Great coffee shop that I frequented when I was at the Jentel Foundation writing a novel that I am now going to finish. The pandemic has been deadly for indie businesses and reviving downtowns. Trends for the last decade have been toward gathering places most located in downtowns that had seen better days and were trying to come back. Black Tooth is the fourth microbrewery in downtown Cheyenne. They've been closed since March 18 except for takeout and the brewing of hand sanitizer. Chronicles Distillery downtown made lots of hand sanitizer and I bought nine spray bottles since none could be found in the grocery stores. Chronicles donated most of their supply to health workers, hospitals and clinics. Then they started peddling the goods to the citizenry. I ordered online and then pulled up outside for the exchange of the goods. Other customers were ordering some of the locally brewed whiskey and vodka which is a whole different kind of sanitizing..

Chris, Annie and I will attend a concert and drive-in movie Saturday night at the Terry Bison Ranch. Tickets for each car were $25 and we registered online. Must stay in our cars which may be a challenge for those of us of a certain age who need to pee. Not sure how we will manage. Might have to leave mid-way through "Back to the Future."

It's ugly on the national scene. Our ugly president wants to reopen the economy no matter how many people it kills. 93,000-plus have died in the U.S., and there are probably many more that went uncounted. The U.S. leads the world in confirmed cases. There's been no direction from the federal government and that's a crime that Trump and the G.O.P. will have to answer for it at the ballot box. Trump is trying to prevent people from voting by mail but this is a state responsibility and not a federal one. Democratic Party-led states are having none of the president's blather and neither am I. I ordered a mail-in ballot and plan to use it. The better the turnout the more likely it is that we can get rid of the criminal element in D.C.

Chris, Annie and I continue to take safety precautions. Annie wears a mask during her shifts at Big Lots. Chris and I wear masks going out and if someone needs to come in the house.

Wyoming reports 11 deaths statewide with more than 500 confirmed cases. The worst hot spot is on the Wind River Reservation in Fremont County. The Navajo Nation in Arizona has more per capita cases than New York and New Jersey, the epicenters of the virus. Very sad. Minority communities in urban centers are being hit hard. All of this points out the many holes that exist in our slapdash health care system. And did I mention that the GOP-led feds are clueless in the face of a national emergency?

Barrasso and his GOP pals have a COVID-19 message: Forget Trump, Blame China

Note of paranoia from Wyoming Senator/Sawbones John Barrasso.

Somehow I got on his email list. I haven’t yet unsubscribed because it is so telling to see what he’s sending out to his broader constituency.

On May 1, I received an e-mail with some helpful hints about the pandemic. It opens on a hopeful note: “We are all in this together.” I had to laugh. Together? The senator, thanks to deluded Wyoming R voters and those who stayed home, has a guaranteed job through 2024. A guaranteed paycheck and staff goes with it as does health care paid for by you and me. He can get a COVID-19 test whenever he wants. He’s become a millionaire since going to Congress. If Trump is reelected and the GOP keeps its majority in the Senate, Republican Barrasso will be up for a major leadership role. Meanwhile, he joins #MoscowMitch in opposition to the new stimulus bill approved by the House and now a-mouldering on Mitch’s desk.

In an interview on, of course, Fox, Barrasso said that :

House Speaker Nancy Pelosi "must be living on Fantasy Island" if she thinks her $3 trillion coronavirus stimulus bill will become law…. It's bloated and partisan, and it's a payout to her liberal constituencies. 

Barrasso may look thin on TV but he's usually all about being bloated and partisan. Remember, he voted for Trump’s tax cut for the rich and he hovers around #MoscowMitch in every blasted press photo and every televised news conference.

In the meantime, Barrasso and his right-wing pals stir up a war with China. It’s a dandy way to take our minds off of Trump’s ineptitude in handling this health crisis. Here’s his May 8 message, courtesy of Friend of John Barrasso:

The coronavirus has changed our daily lives and brought our economy to a standstill. 

We’ve had to adjust to social distancing and making tough calls between health and safety, and keeping essential parts of our country going. 

China’s response, or lack thereof, led to our current pandemic, shutting entire countries and the global economy down. Rather than warn the world, it appears the Chinese government chose to cover up their deadly mistake.  

Mike, China has a history of being a bad actor, from human rights violations to privacy concerns, and their role in the coronavirus pandemic is no different. We must hold China accountable - will you add your name to our petition? 

SIGN THE PETITION 

We must stand together to hold China responsible. Not only did China choose to withhold information about the virus, they have been actively pushing propaganda and attempting to deflect blame to the United States. 

We must take a stand. Add your name to join us in holding China accountable. 

HOLD CHINA ACCOUNTABLE 

Thank you for your commitment to our fight, 

Team Barrasso

I disabled the links as I don’t want to lead you astray. If you must blame China, don’t buy anything at a big box store or in one of America’s disappearing malls. That’ll show ‘em.

Pandemic Days: Wyoming Legislature convenes and experts try to get a handle on virus death count

Our legislature gathers for a short special session tomorrow to decide how to divvy up the federal pandemic stimulus funds. I’d vote to give it all to hospitals and health care workers especially those in smaller communities. These small hospitals have been hit hard by lack of elective surgical procedures which pay most of the bills. They could also be helped by Medicaid expansion. Unfortunately, the majority-GOP lege has decided to once again study the issue until the Obamacare-related program rides off into the sunset just like Obama.

Governor Gordon has stipulated that the opening of the state shall proceed in a step-by-step plan that most seem to be ignoring. Social distancing and mask-wearing have been crucial in stemming the COVID-19 tide. The state has registered 600-some cases and only seven deaths. We see numbers similar to those in neighboring Montana and South Dakota, other places where social distancing is the norm. Populous Colorado, on the other hand, has more than 20,000 cases and 1,009 deaths. Neighboring Weld County on our southern border shows 2,190 cases, the fourth-highest tally in the state – the top three are in the Denver metro area.

Whenever my wife and I go out, we wear masks and carry hand sanitizer. We had a dryer delivered yesterday because our old one conked out. The delivery guys showed up with no masks so we happily lent them some. They put them on once we explained our high-risk status. Chris and I are both Democrats and are much more open to COVID-19 due to our Godless status and opposition to Donald Trump. Governors of hard-hit urban states have been labeled “blue-state whiners” when they complain about lots of death and no testing or PPE for health care workers. Apparently health care workers in red states just quietly get sick and die. Especially vulnerable are staff members in nursing homes and long-term health facilities. One-third of U.S. fatalities come out of those places. Since retirees congregate in warm places such as Florida, Arizona, and Texas, many of the casualties are from those states. My stepmother was one of them (see previous post).

Other visitors to our house have included Instacart delivery people. They don’t come in but leave the groceries on the porch. We had the crew from Skyline Solar here ten days ago to install the wiring and panels for going solar. They wore masks to the job at our request and were very nice. One young worker was tasked with adding support beams in our attic. It couldn’t have been easy working in our hot attic while wearing a mask and work gloves. When he reappeared, he was drenched in sweat. The electricians were in and out and wore masks. 

Our house was built in the middle of the previous century so needed some upgrading to join the 21^st century. They installed a new breaker box on the patio wall and tackled the interior breaker box with a mixture of awe and frustration. We have one of those punchbox types so popular in the 1950s and woefully inadequate in 2020. The electrician said he could replace it with a new breaker box but it was a bit expensive for our current budget. So we had to make do.

Annie is a Millennial so she orders food via Door Dash and all of the rest. A few days ago she ordered a chocolate pie. I like pie but the only kind I’ve had delivered is a pizza pie, a name that’s fallen out of favor. Chris and I now are used to the doorbell ringing and opening the door to find a sandwich or wings or burger in a bag on the porch. We wipe them down when we bring them in. All of us have to trust in the cleanliness of the purveyor when it comes to the making and bagging of the food. It would be so much easier if stainless steel bots did all of the work but we’re not there yet. Before the pandemic, most fast-food outlets took pride in assembling your order while you watched. Subway is a prime example. So is Chipotle. Not sure how that will change when bistros return to some sort of normalcy.

One thing about COVID-19 deaths. This morning’s New York Times carried a Nicholas Kristof op-ed about the virus’s true death count. It’s not a number that Trump will like but it’s more in keeping with what experts such as Dr. Fauci say. Taking into account “excess deaths” during the first seven weeks of the pandemic ending April 25, the U.S. has already passed the 100,000 casualties mark. In the early weeks of the plague, people were dying of COVID-19 but because they had other maladies and they were elderly, their deaths were logged in as heart failure, respiratory failure, acute dementia, etc.

I know at least one example of this in my own family. My stepmother bore a litany of health issues before the virus snuck into her nursing home and killed her. But the cause of death wasn’t listed as such until she was swabbed for COVID-19 at the medical examiner’s office because she came from a nursing home experiencing an outbreak. The test came back positive. So, her death was not recorded properly by the State of Florida. That state’s excess death count is estimated by the NYT as 1,800. In Wyoming, its 100 which puts our tally at 107 instead of 7.

We don’t really know what we’re dealing with. Coronavirus causes strange sicknesses in children. It applies the coup de grace to old people in nursing homes and the younger workers who take care of them. So many outbreaks have occurred in these facilities from Florida to Colorado. A tragedy and a travesty. In the nurturing industries, the people we pay least work with our young children and our old people. It’s almost like we didn’t care about our future and our past. Our present isn’t doing so well either.

Telling the story behind the statistic

My stepmother died at a Florida nursing home on April 9. She was 94 and suffering from an assortment of maladies. She had end-stage celebral atherosclerosis. She was blind and bedridden and very weak.

It was coronavirus that dealt the final blow.

Our family didn't know it at the time. Her obituary said nothing about coronavirus because nobody knew she was yet another COVID-19 casualty. The nursing home, the Opis Coquina Center in Ormond Beach, Fla., said nothing. It was only through the efforts of the Daytona Beach News-Journal and other Florida papers that the medical examiner's office issued the names of those in nursing homes diagnosed, mostly post-mortem, with COVID-19.

This is from an April 20 article in the News-Journal by Nikki Ross:

Constance Shay, 94, was an Ormond Beach woman with coronavirus, who died of end stage cerebral atherosclerosis on April 9 at Opis Coquina Center, a nursing home in Ormond Beach, according to the Volusia County Medical Examiner’s report. 

Her medical history includes coronavirus, vascular dementia, hypertension, GERD and atherosclerosis. 

Since Shay resided at Opis Coquina Center, which has an active COVID-19 outbreak, her cremation was flagged. She was swabbed for COVID-19. 

She’d been a patient of the nursing home since 2016. Over the years her health declined and by February 2018 she was unable to care for herself or make decisions, and she had lost a significant amount of weight. She was placed in hospice. 

Her death is not included on the Florida Department of Health’s list of coronavirus related deaths.

The newspaper article was the first time that any of us, including my Florida siblings, knew about this. The newspapers dug deep to get this info and find out that the many of the Central Florida nursing home deaths were not included in the state's count of coronavirus-related fatalities. This is crucial because Florida is one of those states accused of undercounting the death count for political reasons. The Florida Office of Health reported this morning that more than 40,000 in the state have tested positive and 1,735 have died.

Today's New York Times had this:

While just 11 percent of the country’s cases have occurred in long-term care facilities, deaths related to COVID-19 in these facilities account for more than a third of the country’s pandemic fatalities. 

At least 28,100 patients and workers have died at nursing homes and long-term care facilities for the elderly.

None of this tells us who Constance Shay was as a person. She was Connie to us. She and my dad married in 1992. Both had lost spouses. My father had been devastated by my mom's death of ovarian cancer in 1986. The CPA was keeping busy doing people's taxes when he dropped by Connie's house to square her with the IRS. One thing led to another and they got married and stayed that way until my father died of prostate cancer in 2002. Connie stayed in Ormond Beach and eventually sold her house and moved into a long-term care facility. The last time I visited from Wyoming she had lost most of her sight. My sister and brother-in-law came over from Winter Park to visit and chat and read to her. She had other visitors from the family that remains in Florida, which is quite a crowd.

Connie was a lifelong Catholic like my father and they attended mass together every Sunday. One of their hobbies was tending to the flower gardens at St. Brendan Catholic Church, the same place Chris and I were married in 1982. They also had a verdant garden at their home. They both read a lot.

They are both gone now. I don't know if I will one day meet with them in heaven because I am no longer certain there is such a place. But I do know that we are made of stardust that will be floating around the heavens for eternity. We will run into each other somewhere in the cosmos. I hope to tell my birth mother and my father that we found a cure for cancer at long last. I hope to tell Connie that nobody ever died alone again and had the real cause of their death printed 11 days later in the morning paper.