Flowers and Football

A rather boring and frustrating day yesterday. I'm between books and I didn't feel like immediately diving into a new one, and I didn't want to watch a movie, and of course I can't leave the house. "Trapped like a rat! A rat in a cage!"

(I wrote that thinking it was a famous quote, but when I Googled it to see where it came from I only get advice on how to kill a trapped rat. Or references to a Smashing Pumpkins song that contains the line "despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage," which isn't quite the same. So maybe it's not a famous quote. I think it's just something my friend Sue used to say.)

Anyway...I did a little more work on my dad's photo book and uploaded it to Blurb, and ordered a copy to see how the finished product looks. I also sent the PDF proofs to my stepsister so she could check them out, as she helped me research the names of Dad's traveling companions on that trip, and I'll send them to my stepmother too.

When Dave first tested Covid-positive a week ago I bought him flowers on the way home from work -- you're seeing that bouquet in these photos. It's past its prime now, but still pretty. When I bought it the poppies were more or less the same height as the roses, but they magically kept growing so now they're several inches higher.

Dave was hoping he'd be able to return to work early with a negative test after five days -- but his test last night was still positive and he's still coughing, so he's not too happy about that. As for me, my symptoms are still mostly in my nose. My sinuses were incredibly stuffy yesterday and I used some of Dave's nasal spray -- MAN, that stuff WORKS! Apparently it's addictive so you can't use it much but I was mighty impressed at how freely I could breathe afterwards.

Apropos of nothing, here's a video of Olga with a football we found at the cemetery on a recent walk:

It amazed me how excited she got! She was like a puppy again. A football really motivates her. I brought the ball home but I haven't given it to her in the garden for fear she'll demolish the plants.

Remember when she lost her dog tag several weeks ago, and I worked so hard to successfully find it? Well, it's gone again. This time I have no idea where it fell off. Fortunately Olga has a microchip so if she ever gets lost she can still be identified and returned to us -- and she has a spare tag too.

Time Traveling

I have been up to my eyeballs in a new project.

Several years ago I blogged a few images that my dad took on a backpacking trip to Europe in 1957. Well, those were just a handful of about 200 slides he left us from that journey through France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, Belgium, the Netherlands and the UK.

I've always meant to do something with these photos, but until now I haven't had the time. Being trapped at home with Covid, it turns out, is good incentive! I spent all day yesterday re-editing the pictures, choosing the best ones and turning them into a photo book.

WHEW!

It's pretty much finished now, and I intend to get it printed so I can show the family when I visit in the spring. It was a challenge because I had to figure out where each picture was taken, and when they're photos of farmland or distant mountains that's not always possible. I did my best based on where they were in the slide carousel and the order in which they were scanned.

Also, the scans are not the best quality. My stepmother had them commercially done and while they'd be fine for family photos we just want to browse now and then, they're not quite up to a professional standard. They're dark, slightly blurry and uniformly crooked. I corrected them as best I could, but if we ever do a real photo book, working with a publisher -- which might be possible -- we'd have to go back to the original slides.

But it's a start and it will hopefully give everyone in the family a nice keepsake and a sense of the images' potential.

Here's an interesting mystery. This woman turned up among the slides. This picture wasn't taken in Europe -- there were a handful of images from Dad's home in Riverside, Calif., and this is one of them. I wonder who she is? Maybe his prom date, which would mean this photo is from 1955. Where is she now?

It's so funny to think of my dad as an 18- or 20-year-old, not yet at graduate school, not yet knowing my mother, not yet married and then divorced and then remarried, not yet a father. Going out on a date with some other girl, and taking photos outside the house where he grew up, which has long since been torn down. And of course he's no longer with us either.

Time flies!

(Top photo: An off-license near the tube station in West Hampstead.)

Waiting

When I was walking back from the Covid testing center on Thursday I passed these dogs, parked in front of Tesco, patiently awaiting their owner. I would be way too nervous to leave Olga standing outside a shop, especially without tying her up -- but these two seemed to know what they were doing. I watched them for a few minutes and they didn't budge.

This is a good metaphor for my life at the moment. I'm waiting too. Biding my time until this bug runs its course and I can rejoin the world.

I felt better yesterday than the day before, so maybe that's a good sign. I'm surprised how much this is in my nose and my throat. My main symptoms have been sore throat, sneezing and a sort of stuffy nose with mild head and face pain. One of my co-workers who had Omicron over winter break told me the same thing -- it's not really in the chest as much as you'd expect, based on what we've all read about Covid. Maybe that's why Omicron isn't as severe.

The NHS prodded me yesterday to complete their exhaustive test-and-trace questionnaire, which asked me where I'd been in the week or so leading up to my positive test. Fortunately, aside from work, I hadn't been much of anywhere -- with the exception of last Saturday, when I walked the Green Chain and went to a movie. This was well before I showed any symptoms and in fact Dave wasn't even sick at that point, so I don't think I was infectious -- and I was masked. But I still dutifully listed all the places I'd been that day -- the tube, the train, the cinema, a sandwich shop.

I'm not sure how they'll use that information -- surely they can't tell who was sitting in the cinema with me, or in the same train car? Maybe it's more a matter of tracking people's behavior to get a big-picture sense of how and when Covid might spread. Anyway, I answered all their questions and more power to 'em.

Then they prodded me to enter my test results into the test-and-trace app, which among other things keeps track of my isolation period. So I did that too.

Otherwise, I spent the day reading and finishing "Shuggie Bain." It was a very good book, and the writing was beautiful. My only quibble is that it is so unrelentingly bleak in its descriptions -- unrealistically so, it seems to me. It's about a boy growing up with an alcoholic mother on a housing estate in Glasgow in the 1980s, and I understand that it was a very deprived area with a lot of people (particularly coal miners) out of work. But every front garden is asphalt, every wall is moldy, every person is slovenly (aside from the alcoholic mother, who hides her disabling addiction behind a facade of poise and rhinestones). I mean, surely someone grew flowers on this housing estate? Surely someone kept a decent home and not all the kids were violent monsters?

Granted, I never went to a Glaswegian housing estate in the 1980s, so perhaps the author's insight is greater than mine.

Dave and I are at a crossroads with our evening TV viewing. We started the fourth season of "Ozark," but talk about bleak! All the characters in that show are so awful I'd just as soon they all die. I'm not sure we'll get through it. Last night we started a Korean zombie romp called "All of Us Are Dead," which is entertaining but bloody (of course). We watched "The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window," a Netflix thriller parody that was good right up until the last episode, when it suddenly got incredibly stupid.

I abandoned "The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd" after the second season, so the show I'm most enjoying at the moment is "Seinfeld." We watch it every night.

C-Positive Part II

This place just opened on our high street, greatly amusing Dave, who is from Michigan. "What's so special about Michigan flames?" he said. "Do you think they serve venison?"

And then, a few minutes later: "Hey, I'm a Michigan flame!"

Yesterday morning, feeling annoyed at my continued negative Covid test results despite my obvious and intensifying illness, I booked a PCR test through the NHS. I walked to a testing center not far from our flat and navigated a process that involved speaking to people through heavy plastic windows and barriers and swabbing my own throat. (I thought, "Well, if I don't have Covid yet, I probably have it now after visiting this epicenter of infection.") I left the completed test kit there and about 9 p.m. last night I got a text saying my results are positive.

Not that there was really any doubt. I just wanted to be able to tell work that I'm positive so they know I'm not malingering. Now I'm under orders to self-isolate for ten days, so I won't be working next week at all, unless I recover quickly and test negative twice in a row after five days.

This morning my lateral flow test (which I took just out of curiosity) was strongly positive too.

So yeah, there's no doubt. I have Covid. And as I said, I did feel sicker yesterday. Still not terrible, but a bit headachey and sore throatey and tired. My temperature in the afternoon was 99.5º, which isn't much of a fever but it's headed in that direction.

Dave and I lay down after lunch, and after reading "Shuggie Bain" for an hour or two I got up to make some coffee. "Would you bring me water and some paracetamol?" Dave croaked from his side of the bed.

"We're so pathetic," I said.

Fortunately Dave ordered a grocery delivery a few days ago, so at least for now we have all we need to hide out at home while we recuperate. Olga's dog walker is still coming in the afternoons -- I crack open the door and push her outside so he doesn't have to enter the house. He won't come over the weekend, though, so I suppose I'll have to walk her then. I can stick to quiet streets and steer clear of people.

Meanwhile, in our garden, our lungwort is already blooming. It's pretty early to be seeing flowers on this plant, but the other day I was reading an article that said plants in the UK are blooming a month earlier on average than they did 50 years ago. Maybe this is an example. I'm not sure there are any insects around to pollinate that flower yet.

Pandemics, climate change -- it's a brave new world!

Totoro Takes a Bath

When Dave and I were working in the garden on Sunday I noticed the sad state of Totoro. He looked like he'd been mud-wrestling, but to be honest I think he'd been visited by a pigeon. (A thousand apologies if you're eating breakfast right now.)

So yesterday I went out with some soapy water and an old toothbrush and gave him a bath:

And that might be the only productive thing I did yesterday. Oh, no, I did also manage to vacuum the living room.

Otherwise, I sat and read "Shuggie Bain" and my various online news sources, and tried to figure out whether I was really developing a sore throat or not. (As you can infer, I did not go to work.) The ultimate verdict is that yes, I have an extremely mild sore throat, kind of like the beginnings of a cold that hasn't quite blossomed yet. My Covid tests are still negative, but since I have symptoms -- however mild -- I'll be staying home today too.

Apparently this is a thing with Omicron -- it sometimes takes a while to show up on lateral flow tests. As NPR reported, "Anecdotal reports abound of people showing symptoms of COVID-19 and testing negative at first, before eventually testing positive." I suppose I could order a PCR but I suspect by the time it gets here and I take it and send it in and get results, the lateral flow test will be positive.

Fortunately, my boss is being very understanding about this and since Dave is definitely positive we have good reason to believe I am too, regardless of the tests. Maybe my vaccines are working enough that I'm just not getting very sick or carrying much viral load. Who knows?

As planned, Dave was picked up by the NHS yesterday and ferried to the hospital for an antibody infusion. A guy showed up at our front door in head-to-toe blue plastic Haz Mat gear and a face shield, and escorted Dave into a waiting ambulance. I absurdly thought, "Great! Now the whole neighborhood knows we have Covid!"

He's feeling pretty good, by the way. His fever only lasted a day, even before the extra antibodies, and the NHS folks told him he should feel even better after their treatment.

In other news, I gave up on my recently attempted orchid rescue. The entire plant had apparently been frozen, because it turned the sickly gray-green color of overboiled string beans. It wasn't going to bounce back. I threw it out.

C-Positive

This was the sunset as I left work yesterday evening. Pretty nice, huh?

Dave tested positive yesterday by lateral flow, and then he got his PCR results -- also positive. So he definitely has Covid. Weirdly, I don't seem to have it yet. I was still negative on my lateral flow this morning and I don't think I have any symptoms, though if I scrutinize my body I can always find something that feels weird and makes me wonder: "Is that the beginning of a scratchy throat? Is my nose stuffy? Am I more achy and tired than usual?"

I suppose if I have to ask the question the answer is no. Otherwise I wouldn't be asking.

The NHS is paying attention to Dave's case because of the medication he takes to manage his Crohn's disease, which suppresses his immune system. In fact he spoke to a doctor yesterday who arranged to have him picked up by car this afternoon and taken to University College London for a special antibody infusion. And then they drive him home again! How's that for service?

He doesn't feel too bad and yesterday his fever was gone, so fingers crossed he's over the worst of it -- but I know Covid is weird in that it can come and go and get more severe over time. It's just as well that he's getting those antibodies.

Meanwhile, I'm in a conundrum. Do I keep going to work as usual? The rules say if I'm negative and have no symptoms I should go in, but how could I not have this virus? It seems impossible. Then again, if I don't have it, I'd rather not sit around the house all day being exposed to it even more. I never thought school would seem safer than home.

I put together a new library display yesterday of banned or challenged books. You can see "Maus" front and center at the top, as well as other books that appeared on that crazy Texas list that came out a few months ago. I also made a separate shelf of "classic" challenged books that have been stirring controversy for decades -- "Ulysses," "Of Mice and Men," "The Catcher in the Rye" and such.

It was pretty fun. Of course it could be a magnet for kids who want mischievous reading, but that's the point, right? We have the books, and I'm happy if they're reading anything. (As I've mentioned in the past, we have a system that ensures the youngest kids don't check out anything not age-appropriate.)

Besides, that Texas list is out of hand. I don't even understand why some books are on that list. Pretty much anything that has to do with race, gender or sexual identity has been flagged. It's overkill on a massive scale.

Googling Potato Beetles

Our local pub is bedecked in flags for the Six Nations rugby championships, which begin on Feb. 5. The games bring together the national teams of England, Ireland, Scotland, Italy, Wales and France, with Wales the defending champions.

Aren't you impressed that I know all this?

Well, in reality I walked past the pub and wondered, "Why are there six flags hanging in the windows?" The Internet did the rest.

I know we say this all the time, but how did we ever survive without Google? I remember being perplexed by the most minor, insignificant things. Here's another example. I've told you I was a stamp collector as a child. Well, I have this stamp in my collection:

It's not quite a postage stamp, because it has no nationality or denomination. It's obviously some kind of campaign stamp for stopping these bugs, "kartoffelkäfer." But what on earth is a "kartoffelkäfer"?

I remember taking this stamp to my high school German teacher and asking her, and even she didn't know -- though we both assumed it was some kind of pest.
 
Well, last night, out of the blue (because for some reason this popped into my head), I Googled "kartoffelkäfer," and it turns out it's the Colorado potato beetle. Apparently this insect was the focus of a series of eradication efforts in Europe after being accidentally introduced there from North America in the late 1800s. During World War II, Germany waged a propaganda campaign accusing the Americans of deliberately dropping the beetles on their crops, and apparently these allegations persisted during the Cold War among the nations of Eastern Europe. So this German stamp was issued to raise awareness, kind of like an Easter Seal. (There's an alternate design, used on posters, showing the insects' carapaces decorated in red, white and blue stars and stripes!)

A 45-year-old mystery, at least in my mind -- solved at last! Thank you, Google.

I know you're all wondering how Dave is doing. He's still not feeling great and in fact he's asleep as I write this. We don't have any answers yet from his PCR but we're hoping results come through today.

Meanwhile, I'm still Covid negative as of this morning and I haven't developed any of his symptoms. But I decided yesterday that I was not going to upend my life to avoid it in my own household. I am not wearing a mask at home (I wear a mask all day at work and that's quite enough, thanks) and we're both sleeping in our bed as usual. (We have a big bed and there's usually a snoring dog between us, so there can be a measure of social distancing while sleeping!) We don't have a guest room so my only other option would be moving to our sofa, which isn't very comfortable.

I figure, if I get it, I get it. My boss and her husband went through all sorts of elaborate attempts to keep his infection from spreading to her -- including masking around the house and sleeping in different rooms -- and she got it anyway. I think in all likelihood if Dave has Covid I'm already infected. So I'm just going to live life as usual and see what happens.

I found this walking Olga yesterday morning -- a tile drinks coaster,  lying on the sidewalk. There was also one with a heart on it but not really caring for the design, I left that one behind for the next lucky pedestrian!