Category Archives: Covid-19 levity

04.18.20
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Crazy During Covid: Patio Toast and The Flower Thief

Since moving to Sacramento just over a year ago, we’ve seen some pretty wild shenanigans outside our town house on 20th street.  Homeless folks eating ice cream on our front porch like they own the place, double car break ins (and there was nothing to steal but vitamins), a New Year’s Eve brawl behind our garage that ended in pepper spray and police, freshly planted flowers clipped off at the base…the incidents are endless.

One night last fall we were waiting for Uber when two folks walked up to our patio, plugged in some kind of torch, and started trying to warm up a plastic to-go of mac and cheese. We didn’t even engage and left them work their magic. We have to keep the water spicket under lock and key, and after 3 hoses disappeared in one week, I had to start taking the hose inside after each time I water what’s left of my ravaged flower beds.

But then there’s “Pooch” the mayor of our neighborhood who calls every time we leave the garage door open or have a package in the front. Gina down the street brought me eggs a few weeks ago when I was sure every chicken within 50 miles of Sacramento was on strike. Zoe knows I can barely walk a few blocks until I get my knee fixed again, but still checks in on me and asks me to go on a walk with her and her sweet pooch– and doesn’t mind when I throw in the towel after a few blocks to turn around. Mike next door “installed” a soaker hose in my flower beds last week, and Marco, a few blocks down let us “borrow” the crane he rented to get our grill onto the roof. There’s a lot of goodness in between the madness.

This is all to say, it all balances out.

But this week? Sigh. I find not one, but two toasters, plugged into my patio outlet one morning. Now what homeless person is walking around with toasters and a loaf of bread? They broke the lock and case on my outlet, but left me the toasters to sell on E-bay. I guess that’s still generous.  And I guess I’m glad that there are some inventive folks out there who still have proper standards for toast.

And then yesterday, our next-door neighbor caught the same woman on camera (2 nights in a row) digging up his freshly planted Impatiens. Seriously? So, because I’m just crazy enough, I busted out my 1920s floor length fur coat and oversized sunglasses at 10pm last night to watch over their flower bed.

I’m happy to report that there was no theft last night…and just enough folks walked past the patio where I was staked out to know that a crazy person lives at 1700 and shouldn’t be messed with.

If anyone needs a toaster, let me know. I’ve got two extras. And if you live in Sacramento and need a late night watch-woman, I’ve got you covered.

And don’t judge my really bad dye job in this video; those Goldilocks roots are for another post.

04.05.20
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Parking Violations, Blueberry Champagne, and a Ninja in the Living Room: more shenanigans as we enter week 3.

Let me tell you who’s not minding the “shelter at home” order. These guys.  In spite of the fact that I live 7 feet from my parked car, and have a visitor’s pass (the story of why I don’t have a permanent sticker is for another day,) these little pesky parking dudes are still leaving the comfort of their homes to disrupt the pollen on my car long enough to add a fresh ticket to the old one I still have under my wiper. For awhile, my “trick” of leaving the last ticket in place worked, but now that it’s spring in “the city of trees” and construction is still stirring up layers of dust, the grime on top of my last ticket isn’t fooling anyone. And, I’m back to using my Georgia driver’s license because I lost my California one on my last business trip, so that complicates things…I mean, I’d go take care of these things, but we’re supposed to be sheltering, right? As I’ve mentioned before, I follow the rules.

parkingtics

I’m just hoping there’s going to be some “parking forgiveness” at some point, though my Google searches thus far don’t turn up any forgivable loans for the good citizens at 1700 20th street. Sigh.

Meanwhile, the 8 food magazine subscriptions around the house are finally getting some page-turning. Every time I get hit up for another school fundraiser, I opt for the magazine subscription, so while I certainly don’t have the ingredients I need for most of the recipes, I’m working through all kinds of interesting substitutions. (Don’t worry, no mystery meat has been thawed yet this weekend.)

My typical MO with a new recipe is to substitute half the ingredients for whatever I have on hand anyway, but with the current situation (and unlike the Sacramento street patrol) I AM minding the rules to stay home and feel like that gives me a pass on following a recipe properly. That said, I made this awesome goat-cheese cream sauce with truffle spaghetti this week.  I swapped the pappardelle pasta for truffle spaghetti, the peas for roasted broccoli, skipped the chives and lemon in trade for extra leeks and diced chicken from take out leftovers. Delish.

broccspaghettirecipe

Broccspaghetti

Fun fact–did you know you can regrow leeks in water with no dirt? They’re already re-sprouting in the living room window, right next to the garlic I’m attempting to grow..stay tuned.

leeks

In other breaking news, I brought back a little plant based eating yesterday, to undo other damage from the week. Nothing finer than butternut squash, halved, sprinkled with kosher salt and pepper, a little olive oil and a slow bake…heart happy. Meanwhile, Nicholas was making barf noises in the background, but as my dear friend Brandon would say, “Don’t Yuck My Yum!” I’ll eat both halves, thank you very much.

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Today I woke up feeling a little Gatsby in my soul, so since it was shower day anyway, I put on what I’m positive would have been Daisy Buchanan’s Sunday best: a sleeveless black flapper dress, pearls, and glitter eye shadow. I’m sure she wouldn’t have sported a knee wrap and orthopedic sneakers, but my fashion has its limits.  I poured some Spumante in one of my favorite Atlanta-Map glasses, added some frozen blueberries, and felt really fancy for a Sunday in quarantine.

Gatsbychampagne

I got up to refill my champagne and literally thought I was about to be taken hostage by a Ninja type character in my living room; turns out it’s just Nicholas, living his best life in some sort of iridescent head wear that allows him to teleport or something. I don’t know what it’s supposed to do, but I hope it can at least kidnap an egg laying chicken.

myninja

Keep some levity, friends; have some really cold, sweet champagne.  Make cupcakes and inject frosting into the center with an icing tip. Call someone you haven’t talked to in awhile. Write a thank you note for your mailman. Buy a couple fresh daisies the next time you brave the grocery store. Plan your Easter menu.  And send as much love into the universe as you can. And pray for me and the alien in my living room.

XOXO

04.01.20
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Sister Wives & A Head-Shaving Campaign: Ruminations After Week 2

blue sneakers rooftopkabobs

I put on jeans yesterday, just to make sure they still fit, and got really fancy today with blue sneakers (not orthopedics!) a dress, and…..even earrings. It’s funny the things I used to do every day that make me feel like it’s a special occasion now. But that’s the thing for good headspace–I think we have to start back into our normal routines with some adaptations–you can’t go to the gym? Do a video at home. You can’t get your hair done? Wash it and style it yourself. Your house keeper isn’t coming to scrub? Break out some gloves and DIY cleaner and get your house smelling fresh…light a candle, take a bath, put on earrings, and as Rachel Hollis would say, “Girl! Wash your face!”

I know there’s enough doomsday out there already, and I can’t change that, so let’s continue some levity conversation instead. Like Sister Wives (SW). For real: what an awesome time to be a polygamist. I’d have women to hang out with, help with house chores, and just keep up good energy. (Because of course I would screen them first for high vibes and a proper work ethic.)  One of my favorite people, who shall remain nameless, I’ve been referring to as my SW for a minute now jumped on a FaceTime call with me the other day….I HATE FaceTime….I’m all awkward and double chins and can’t get the angle right, and am too consumed with vanity to actually have a conversation. But this time, I didn’t care–we had our “quarantinis” and covered the spectrum of petty to heavy life stuff. This is the connectivity the world needs, and we’re always “too busy” to stop and really take the time to connect on a level that matters. At least that’s how I often operate…not putting this on anyone else, so I’ll be honest to say that even in a life without kids, I often prioritize incorrectly and claim I’m too busy (or the time change is too hard) to connect with some of the people that I love most in life, and are most to be credited for who I’ve become.

PSA– no disrespect or offense intended with my SW commentary–another reason that I regularly sport my “I’m Not For Everyone” sweatshirt as a fair warning to the public.

In spite of my great dislike for FaceTime, I got on a Zoom call with my family last night for my niece’s baby-gender reveal (not sure how to word that one?) and it was big fun to see my siblings and parents on camera, and find out that, “It’s a boy!” in live time. If we weren’t under this pandemic, I imagine there would have been a local gender reveal with close relatives, but in this case, we all got to be a part of it. How cool is that? And afterwards, I got to FaceTime my youngest brother to see the disgusting amount of game he’s shot and mounted in his office, the 50+ pounds of catfish in his freezer, and well, you get the idea….we got to catch up on life stuff, though that life is pretty different from what I deem normal. (Not even a “new normal”…just normal). He marches to his own fantastic drum, full of guns, bows, dead animals, and plenty of protein in the freezer. If I could still fly right now, I’d probably hunker down at his house and give up on being “mostly plant based.”

I’ve been texting with my aunts, cousins, and friends more often than I normally do, and while I feel so far away from my family, it’s the part of technology that is SO awesome to help me feel connected, relevant, loved, and needed.  I think if we really take a moment to either be thankful for the connections we have, and/or try harder to connect with folks we have on our mind, we could heal our souls in this process of “quarantine” and “new normal.”

So let’s get back to the “you can’t get your hair done?” situation. I know that most women are about 2 weeks from the whole world knowing their real hair color and/or the amount of gray…so I did a little coupon clipping on home hair dye and highlight pens, and then got to thinking…when my face was skinnier, it wasn’t terrible, and make up can transform some stuff. I still have plenty of makeup… and the time to try new tricks.  So if I just drop some weight, I should totally shave my head. Hence, I’ve only eaten edamame today and think I’m on my way to a buzz cut.

With a bald head, I’d have more time to focus on make up solutions and could totally contour and work some magic there. I think it’s a really viable option for consideration. Plus, my cleaning would reduce because I wouldn’t be shedding all over the house and vacuuming up my own mess. That feels like really winning to me.

In other news, Nicholas woke up on Monday craving his aunt’s 2 best recipes–teriyaki kabobs and cinnamon breakfast cake. While the kabobs where pretty easy and we rocked a little rooftop party with the grill Tuesday night, the breakfast cake was another situation. Who knew I needed to have some egg-laying chickens on my rooftop right now? Coming from a kid that grew up next to my cousin’s egg farm and smelled like chicken poop most days, I can’t even believe I can’t get eggs. I’ve called every grocery store on the grid for the last 8 days asking about eggs and delivery times….nothing. I finally sent a desperate text to my neighbors to barter TP, sanitizer, homemade lotions, and paper towels. I got a dozen (no contact!) delivery to my door with no request in return. That’s pretty rad. And even radder (is that a word?) that our day started with the aroma of cinnamon breakfast cake; anything hard after that is softened by a warm, gooey, piece of goodness. Thank you, Aunt Loni.

Stay home if you can. Hug the peeps you’re already exposed to, friends. FaceTime your family from a distance, make a new recipe, and play a no-screen game with your kids. We’re going to be okay. And maybe on the other end of this we will have better perspective about our priorities, and be better than okay. I know I will.

And if you have a Sister Wife??? Be SO grateful. And if you want to join my bald-head campaign, let me know, and I’ll start sewing T-shirts.

XOXO

coffeecakecake recipecoffeecake bites

03.22.20
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A new shower schedule & hot dogs for breakfast: adventures of week 1

i-hate-showering

Because I know that I won’t see most of you for a little while and you’ll forget what I wrote, I have absolutely no filter. You’ve been warned.

I really hate taking showers.

Maybe it’s because I had to share bath water on the farm with 4 other hoodlums, so that’s not exactly a clean or fond memory. I just hate the disruption of going from the coziness of my sheets to water, to being freezing cold drying off, and then having to do something with my hair. I’m already a little cranky in the morning, and the daily shower schedule really cramps my style.

So imagine my elation when I realize that I can still fix my face (because make up makes my heart happy) but I don’t actually have to abide by societal rules and take a shower every day?!  #winning.

Before you judge too much and think I must be smelly, I’ve been spending the wee hours of the night in my HGJ (homegrownjules) garage workshop, which is full of all things squeaky clean: literally 40+ bottles of isopropyl alcohol, witch hazel, liquid aloe vera, mineral oil, every essential oil available…you get the idea. I’ve been cranking out hand sanitizers, kitchen cleaning products, coffee body scrubs, and as of yesterday, a homemade jojoba hand cream, so I smell as divine as a freshly showered babe.

In other news, I work in the food industry, and while sales are tanking, I feel the need to do my part to get DoorDash as often as possible—Café Bernardo’s Thai Noodle Salad, Pizza Rock’s Cal Italia, Thai Palace’s Phad Kee Mao? Yes, please. And I’ll eat those in my soft clothes and on red china, because I still have some standards.

But in between supporting local business, I have to support our shrinking bank account, too, and since I’m a rule-follower and am trying not to leave the house for groceries, it’s time to clean out the freezer for some frugal meals in between….be afraid for my husband.

“Breakfast tacos?” I ask. “How’s that sound?”

“Delish,” he says. “Potatoes, eggs, bacon, and chorizo? Sounds perfect.”

Hmm. No bacon. No chorizo, but I had a little baggy of “mystery meat” that turned out to be grilled hot dogs—from the one time we used our rooftop grill last summer. Lord only knows what possessed me to baggy those up, but sometimes I resort back to this super frugal farm living and freeze everything I can… “just in case.”

Let me tell you—just dice those little suckers into tiny squares (think Tostino’s pizza pepperoni bits), toss into a buttery skillet and they’re transformed. Cut the sprouts off the last couple of purple potatoes and whisk in some eggs, and I’ve got a filling for breakfast tacos that I could start delivering during this crisis. I’m pretty sure Nicholas actually thought it was chorizo, and while he was dying for seconds, I only had 2 hot dogs to start with and had to ration them for another idea come tomorrow.

I think Nicholas finds Covid-19 less scary than what I might thaw from the freezer next.

It goes without saying that this is a terrifying time and I’m beyond grateful for the jobs we still have, the food in our fridge, the family that calls and checks in, the thousands of folks putting their life at risk every day, and the hope of a better tomorrow.

I assume you know all of that already, so instead of stating the obvious in excess, I thought I’d provide a little levity instead.

That said, love each other. Work a puzzle. Teach your kids how to cook. Play spoons at the kitchen table. And say your prayers. It’s going to be okay.