1. The Way It Works
Writing an Ocean story every day is anything but rote. Nonetheless, I do try hard to stick to certain rules of the road. If I follow them, the process is generally smooth. A post appears at your doorstep when you wake up in the morning (if you are in North America).
Here's how it works: during the day, the post gets its first rudimentary form. This is my Stage One. It's not finished and it will go through several edits, but I find it really helpful to at least get an idea on paper early, so that I dont have to struggle with it later. As with everything in life, you learn from your mistakes.
Stage two happens after dinner. Here, I rewrite, I add on, I edit photos, I slap it together, do a read-through and then put it aside. But, dinner is getting to be later and later for us. I don't start cooking until 6:30, we rarely eat before 7:30 and there's a lot going on in those evening hours: the cats come in and out. They clamor for tidbits from dinner. Simultaneously we start our evening viewing (lately it's been the Olympics, plus the incredibly disgusting but excellent Breaking Bad episodes: we're on season 4). There are pauses while I clean up. And pauses for when Ed makes pop corn. And pauses because a cat wants to go in or out. So really, our evening, in all its professed calm, is pretty chaotic.
When I'm done, I put the post aside. Stage Three (publish!) will happen between 10:30 and midnight, because that's when I go to bed. I either give it one final read through, or I assume I've done enough work on it. I click publish and the day ends with me reading novels upstairs.
There is a Stage Four: in the morning, I often go back to Ocean, giving the post one quick read-through to correct typos. They're easy to miss when you're tired.
Spreading things out in this way assures that a post will appear on time every day. But of course, things happen. Yesterday was a day when things happened. Let me turn to that.
2. Fill in the Blanks
I have said this repeatedly: Ocean is as honest as the sky is gray right now (trust me, it's gray here, at the farmette). But it leaves things out. Personal stuff, of course. Especially other people's personal stuff. But mine too: the older I get the less I like to write about doc visits. People get health issues when they age. Most get fixed, some linger. There, I've said all that needs to be said on this subject. (Similarly, Ed and I rarely review health matters. Neither of us likes to talk about them.) So, unless it's essential to what I consider to be the main story point of the day, I'll leave medical stuff out. I am not that older person who gathers with equally aged persons, thinking it's fun to go around the circle and upstage each other in what's wrong with you on any given day. But, sometimes my silence in a post messes with things down the road. Like for instance, I left out yesterday that the reason I was up all night was because I was dealing with the usual Crazy Whatever syndrome. It's annoying, and it also requires that I check in with a team of docs to make sure things are okay. Since we're still in Covid times, I calculated that the best time to do a check in was when the night shift was leaving and the day shift just starting. Meaning early. Before sunrise. And dedicated as am I to Ocean, I took my laptop with me, in case I had to stay there the whole day because, you know, we're living in crazy pandemic times!
I didn't have to stay there the whole day. Things weren't crowded or chaotic (Omicron is really waning here) and so I breezed through in a couple of hours. By evening though, I was exhausted with my Crazy Whatever syndrome. It was the rare time that I didn't want to cook. Ed said "Let's Get Chipotle's take out." We ate and I occasionally dozed off, but we proceeded as usual and watched the Olympics and Breaking Bad and I slapped the post together and then I nursed a stomach ache (see point 3). So I skipped the final edit and went to bed. And I forgot to click publish. Ooops. Sorry guys. I woke up to emails and calls asking me if I had died.
3. It Isn't What it Was
Related, but deserving its own reflection was our take out from Chipotle's. We used to pick up their burrito bowls maybe once a month before the pandemic. Every couple of weeks I come across an evening when I dont want to cook. We alternate then between Thai, Chinese, or Chipotle's. Occasionally there will be a pizza, but it's rare, because I dont like most of the pizzas within driving distance. Or it will be sushi if I'm beyond caring about all the soy salt I take in on a sushi night.
During the first year of the pandemic we did not do any take out at all. I just cooked. Every day. No exceptions. Eventually though, I loosened up and we reintroduced Chinese. And yesterday, we reintroduced Chipotle's.
The whole experience of going back to a prepandemic place reminded me of when my daughter and her husband went out to a restaurant this winter (after Covid had swept through their home, they were in a safe place, having both been vaccinated, boosted, and plenty exposed to the virus). They dined at one of their favorite places, which happens to be a favorite for Ed and me as well, so I was eager to hear about the splendidness of that meal. Well, it was a bust. The place was empty and understaffed. My daughter's favorite dish came late and half the essential ingredients were missing. Conversation never runs smoothly when you are waiting too long for food and you are keenly aware of the fact that you have to be home before the babysitter time runs out on you. The evening, in other words, was... not the best.
I'll say the same for our dinner from Chipotle's. I hadn't gone there for these several years because it has inside tables and there are always people eating at them, breathing in, breathing out. Plus, Chipotle's always seemed a little germy to me, even in prepandemic times. The servers are young and careless and the food sits out in the open. Still, we are not crazy fussy and we always loved our burrito bowls.
Yesterday, as we were feeling more optimistic about the state of the pandemic, I entered the fabled halls of Chipotle once again.
It was nearly empty. I thought -- fantastic! Less exposure!
In retrospect, that should have been a warning: Food Not So Fresh. Not many people eating means that the young servers and cooks, with their masks half way down their chins, are going to be careless. Food sits. Too long. Young servers do not observe hygiene protocols. Ed and Nina get food poisoning.
So, I'd say it was a pretty crazy Thursday!
4. As for Today...
Well, Ed stayed in a supine position upstairs all day (he was hit especially hard) while I went about the business of life. Breakfast most definitely alone!
I'm feeling good about the animals. Yesterday's adoption of Berry really lifted my spirits, so that I no longer look at the six turfy feline residents of the farmette and scowl. And the cheepers, too, are doing well, this despite an attack on their coop the night before. The angry chicken-hungry predator did not get in. Everyone's safe and indeed, enjoying the one-day warm up.
And I pick up a cheerful Snowdrop. It's her last day of school for a while. Next week, most of the days will have schools closed here, because the teachers need a pandemic break. True, the parents need a pandemic break as well, but hey, whoever said that life is fair.
(Happy boys at home)
Maybe not fair, but very wonderful. And full of hope.
With love...
