No, I haven't fallen victim to the COVID-19 virus, but it has thrown things "askew" (aka in a "tizzy"). Nor - thankfully - have any members of our household fallen victim (though we are "at-risk" due to age and health issues). I am not aware of any friends directly having it, either.
I lost two good friends to cancer this Spring, Cheryl before the pandemic (brain cancer) and Garey (pancreatic cancer) after the pandemic began to wholly influence everything in our lives.
I lost two good friends to cancer this Spring, Cheryl before the pandemic (brain cancer) and Garey (pancreatic cancer) after the pandemic began to wholly influence everything in our lives.
I thankfully got to visit with Cheryl and help with yard chores during her waning days. We met when my son was in Boy Scouts and she was teaching various outdoor training courses for scout leaders. She was an avid hiker on Georgia portions of the Appalachian Trail until Rheumatoid Arthritis slowed her down some years ago. Sadly, it was her cigarette habit that probably led to her cancer.
I was unaware of Garey's diagnosis in mid-March (we lived about 50 miles apart in different areas of metro-Atlanta). I regret not getting to at least talk to him. I wasn't aware of his April passing until some mutual friends posted his obituary (from in our college alumni magazine) to Facebook in August.
A few years back, we made several fossil-hunting trips from Atlanta to Chattanooga and one trip to Graves Mountain, Georgia. The Chattanooga trips were filled with reminiscences of our undergrad Geology classes and field trips. And we usually brought back a few craft beers from Chattanooga that were not available in Atlanta. It was always a pleasant time.
I was unaware of Garey's diagnosis in mid-March (we lived about 50 miles apart in different areas of metro-Atlanta). I regret not getting to at least talk to him. I wasn't aware of his April passing until some mutual friends posted his obituary (from in our college alumni magazine) to Facebook in August.
A few years back, we made several fossil-hunting trips from Atlanta to Chattanooga and one trip to Graves Mountain, Georgia. The Chattanooga trips were filled with reminiscences of our undergrad Geology classes and field trips. And we usually brought back a few craft beers from Chattanooga that were not available in Atlanta. It was always a pleasant time.
I haven't had a haircut since perhaps early March. Also during that time, I haven't hugged my daughter, my grandsons, my sister, or my niece, though I have visited with them and chatted from a "social distance". And because of our "at-risk" status, I haven't had a sit-down meal in a restaurant since mid-March or so, though we have done takeout a few times from a local Mexican restaurant.
At the beginning of 2020, unaware of events awaiting us this year, I had intended to post daily on both of my blogs, the other of which is dedicated to travel-related geology, within the "lower 48" states. I wanted to do more with the travel-related blog, "Itinerant Geologist" than just post videos, but composing and writing takes time. I plan to gradually "blend in" posts from Itinerant Geologist into this one.
The pandemic (and semi-quarantine) has sort of enhanced my status of being "semi-retired" by precluding any substitute teaching, for at least the rest of the calendar year and my quarterly part-time job has been scaled back to a little less than half of what it was. It is hard to accept the idea of "being put out to pasture" when I still want to be active in Geology and Environmental Science when circumstances and health allow.
But in light of the passings of those two friends and the pandemic employment disruptions much worse than mine, I am thankful for what I have and what I can still do outside such as; Nature Photography, some light rockhounding, yardwork, and periodic stream and watershed cleanups.
I would like to get back to doing some work on my various writing projects and hopefully recapture some sense of purpose. That was a partial reason for blogging, to keep my mind "busy" and to usher a return to "telling my story", to at least leave behind some sort of spiral-bound narrative about "crossroads" events in my life, e.g., my 1974 Road Trip and my 1977 move from Atlanta to El Paso.
It seems that cultural changes have adversely-influenced the intergenerational conveyance of information within families, i.e., I wish I knew more about the routines and events of the lives of my parents and grandparents. While some aspects of modern culture pull families apart, the advent of "Micro-publishing" and leave behind hard copies of narratives for "later times". If descendants choose not to read them, at least we attempted to "maintain that thread".
And so it goes.
The pandemic (and semi-quarantine) has sort of enhanced my status of being "semi-retired" by precluding any substitute teaching, for at least the rest of the calendar year and my quarterly part-time job has been scaled back to a little less than half of what it was. It is hard to accept the idea of "being put out to pasture" when I still want to be active in Geology and Environmental Science when circumstances and health allow.
But in light of the passings of those two friends and the pandemic employment disruptions much worse than mine, I am thankful for what I have and what I can still do outside such as; Nature Photography, some light rockhounding, yardwork, and periodic stream and watershed cleanups.
I would like to get back to doing some work on my various writing projects and hopefully recapture some sense of purpose. That was a partial reason for blogging, to keep my mind "busy" and to usher a return to "telling my story", to at least leave behind some sort of spiral-bound narrative about "crossroads" events in my life, e.g., my 1974 Road Trip and my 1977 move from Atlanta to El Paso.
It seems that cultural changes have adversely-influenced the intergenerational conveyance of information within families, i.e., I wish I knew more about the routines and events of the lives of my parents and grandparents. While some aspects of modern culture pull families apart, the advent of "Micro-publishing" and leave behind hard copies of narratives for "later times". If descendants choose not to read them, at least we attempted to "maintain that thread".
And so it goes.
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