On Sunday after we both watched the sermon at our church online, Mrs. Sherlock and I went for a walk south into a neighboring area that is up on a bluff that overlooks the river. You can see the community of houseboats from there as well as the mausoleum painted blue with a bird motif. The big bird is an eagle.
We were both distressed, as are we all, about the news, the curfew, the rioting, and the terrible legacy of racism and militarization in our communities and as our minister is black; we thought we might find some comfort or insight into how to address all this. He is a year from retirement and suffering from a chronic disease that affects his balance and we are still in lockdown here.
He tried but it was clear he was exhausted not just by being a senior minister in a shrinking church population during a deadly virus outbreak but also as a black minister of an almost exclusively white church in a state with a terrible history of discrimination on many many levels.
We are one of two states that until last month had a law that said that jury decisions didn’t have to be unanimous that was instituted to protect white jurors from having to consider the opinion of a minority juror that might have a different point of view from the dominant white majority.
Anyway, Mrs. Sherlock and I (and Frieda!) walked and talked in our masks for 3 hours. Well, she was having trouble keeping her mask over her nose because it was muggy, and she was tired and hot. In the process we managed to comfort and uplift each other and both of us felt so much better emotionally as we looked at gardens and talked to folks out and explored a part of town neither of us knew well at all.
Just before we got back to my place she tripped and fell. It was terrifying, she came within an inch of hitting her head on the side of a wooden planter. I felt so helpless watching her go down.
She was fine, shaken up but fine. She broke the fall with her forearm and did not land on her hand or hit her head. She was scraped up like I used to get so often as a kid when I fell and slid a little. The thing is, she fell in almost exactly the same way in her own garden last week.
I made her promise she would go to the doctor if she even came close to falling again. We all fall, but man it is hard not just on the fallen but on their loved ones as well.
Diego is still only eating about a third of what he normally eats and is restless and clingy, at least he has been today. He threw up only fluid this morning.
I had sent an email to our vet late last week and hadn’t heard back. They are there but it is all by appointment and parking lot pick up and… But late this afternoon I realized that I had sent the email to our old vet that retired!!! Duh. No wonder I got no response.
Kes has wanted to come up and see us anyway and I managed to get an appointment for Thursday, the day after tomorrow. We’ll stay in the car and send him in. He is such a snuggle bunny I hope we get him back. :)
I am worried of course. The diminished appetite is not a good sign; but he is a tough little guy and we are all rooting for him.
In the next week in addition to teaching I have three walking dates. That will be great, all with women whose company I enjoy.
The hiking groups are walking now in well-spaced out groups of six with masks required and on broad roads or paths where distance is possible. Almost all the plans are out in the ex-urbs and they fill up fast; for now I will stick with 2 people walks relatively close in.
No curfew has been called here for tonight but we didn’t get the alert until 5PM yesterday.
I ordered bird food, blends that appeal to finches a few weeks back. The place I get it from has been bought out by PetCo and after I made the order I saw that it was reversed so because I was almost out I ordered a whole bunch more from Chewy. One box came yesterday and one today.
If you are a wild bird, tell your friends, I think we are about to have a party.
Last updated June 03, 2020