Had to call tech this morning to help me with setting up DNS for a website and got a very nice guy on the phone. He took about 15 seconds to help me and the rest of our nearly hour-long talk was about moving to a new state (or part of a big state, in my case,) family, religion vs. spirituality, death, suicide, tattoos, art, love, allergies vs. colds (I have the former, he the latter) and we were quick friends probably never to speak again in our lives. Who knows. It was a wonderful conversation and he made my entire week. I love him and I don’t even know him.

His nephew lives in Texas and I urged him to visit. He’ll be riding a Harley, or so he said. I hope so.

Just know that there will never be a vaccination passport. If you actually think the government is trying to force you to get a vaccine, please stop being an idiot. Do your homework. Even the White House says THERE IS NO VACCINATION PASSPORT, nor will there ever be.

Being vaccinated is a matter of choice because all Americans deserve bodily autonomy, to make that choice themselves, certainly without being “forced” to get vaccinated. You know – like any choice about one’s own body.

_{Photo by Mufid Majnun on Unsplash}

It wasn’t too long ago, maybe 10 years or so, that I was last carded. The college-age waiter was probably bucking for a big tip as he checked out my ID, but it felt nice. My favorite moment of being carded, only a year or so earlier, was while checking out at Central Market. The cashier was giving me some major evil eye; I thought she might be a lesbian and that was her sexy look, or maybe she thought I’d stolen something? (it was quite an evil eye) when finally, after the conveyor belt of foodies displayed coho salmon, endive salad, an expensive Prosecco, and dark chocolate, she asked “could I see your ID?”

Ahhhhh, yes! Of course! My ID!!! really??? then wondered how many women under 21 bought that level of taste and sophistication for dinner.

Fastforward to yesterday when I picked up a couple of bottles of wine and some beer for a party I was attending. The guy, a nerdy middleaged man, asked to see my ID….. um, why?…. (I look roughly my age, emphasis on ‘roughly’ with the rainy weather)

Him: I thought you might qualify for a senior’s discount

Me: (showing my ID while evil-eyeing him)

Him: Oh, you’re not quite there yet! I’ll be there in a couple of years, looks like you’ll get there sooner!

Me:

Was he trying to make me feel good about almost making it to the fucking senior’s discount?
I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or ball punch the prick. Considering there was the foodie conveyor belt between us, punching him in the balls was out, and I wasn’t in the mood to get moody over this shit, so I laughed and walked away with my booze.

Then proceeded to get pretty schnockered at the party.

I have nothing against senior discounts and intend to use them ALL when I get there, but this idiot’s social skills could render him a eunuch someday…

So we’re now 3 months into 2021, still fighting a pandemic, while millions of Americans have finally been vaccinated. This is only slightly comforting. All the while I’m still isolating, building art garments and creating beauty, taking care of my acreage and my animals, and connecting with friends as often as possible. I am living life, just not quite like it was before. I’m patient. I know things will change.

Still creating robes of various sizes and colors, now I’m pajama deep into making adorable children’s sizes. I’m also in search of the perfect fabric for a ‘smoking jacket’, the kind Bond may have worn, or maybe Gomez Addams while hanging out with Morticia, doing absolutely nothing but adoring her while puffing on his stogie.

Creating something unique is cool; creating something iconic is way cool. Even better? creating it in miniature size.

Around here it’s always ‘back to work’ because those smoking jackets for kids sure as hell won’t sew themselves…