We are the place where the smoke gathers as it tries to pour out of the Bay but can’t. The wind has been blowing from the east and northeast for a while, so even he brief west wind didn’t help, as the air that blew into town from the ocean was just more smoke from earlier in the week.
It is sobering to think of all the people in the Camp Fire area, and the people between there and here, breathing this toxic soup. I have inhalers, air filters in the house, and a good mask. I’ve barely been outside all week. My chest hurts and eyes are burning. It has got to be doing damage to people.
In the respirators, everyone looks a little like the people in Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind.
Still loving my TravelScoot over here but I am excitedly waiting for delivery of a Whill-Ci powerchair.
It seems relatively lightweight, enough so that in a pinch, I could take it apart and with help get it into the trunk of a cab. We’ll see how I do on the bus.
For everyday around my neighborhood, I hope it will increase the range I’m comfortable going, and that I will still be able to maneuver in small space. I used to go without too much worry to, say, 24th street (1 mile) or to Noisebridge (more like a mile and a half). The last couple of years that seems harder to me, and I tend to take the bus instead. Either I just have more trouble sitting upright that long without back support on the scooter, or, the jolting of pavement is too much, or both. Hoping the CI will help with that.
I tried it out at the Abilities Expo and liked it.
My fears are: What if it just isn’t that comfy for city trips of a mile or two? What if it is harder for me to deal with on the bus or on crowded buses? It will be harder for me to decide to take a cab by myself, without someone with me who is willing to take it apart and shovel it into a cab.
And last but not least I am afraid it is going to “talk” to me or beep annoyingly. I cannot think of any situation where I want my chair to beep or talk. So, I forgot to ask but I’m hoping the phone app will let me disable or mute that. If not I’ll be investigating how to make it stop by taking it apart.
It’s an expensive experiment. I’ll report back on how it is in daily use!
I’m allowed to like my own puns, right?
Noticed this neat photo of a seal perched on an unusually shaped open seashell, ornamenting a building somewhere downtown.
Moments of coming up with the perfect reply should be recorded!
From a recommendation from my dad, I’m reading an actual paper book, Four Brothers in Blue, which is mostly letters from four brothers who were all in the Union army in the U.S. Civil War. They were in different regiments and wrote letters home & to each other. This was strung together many years later by one of the brothers with details (boringly) filled in.
The letters are mostly about details of the misery of soldier life: being cold, losing all your stuff or throwing it away on a long march while carrying 100 pounds on your back in 90 degree heat, needing more socks, mud, blisters, asthma, what it’s like to wake up with lice crawling all over you, eating disgusting food, and how the entire army has diarrhea as well as lice. Somehow, I always like reading this sort of book as it makes any physical pain I’m in less significant as I try to imagine having to walk several miles to gather hay and firewood to button into my lice-filled poncho in the freezing night, for warmth, as i attempt to sleep “on the soft side of the planks”.
Early on in the book and the war, the brothers are fans of McClellan, calling him “Little Mac” and reporting excitedly if he passed close by them on parade. He kept the army morale high, even if they did think he should have followed up quicker after Lee’s defeat at Antietam. They were disappointed that this hero wasn’t taller. One brother even sneaked up to McClellan’s horse, Dan Webster, snipped off a piece of the horse’s mane as a souvenir, and sent it to their mom. I guess this horse must have had a McClellan saddle.
The letters written back to them from their mother and father are missing but you can tell they were being sent little care packages of bandages and medicine by their mom, and stern advice about knapsacks from their dad. All the brothers explain repeatedly to their dad that his knapsacks sucked because they were heavy and the straps too narrow, and they can’t carry all that stuff because they have giant ammo pouches and 50 pounds worth of guns. They stick closest to their “rubber blanket” which I imagine to be a bit like a ridiculously heavy yoga mat, and anything made of wool though the blankets are the 2nd thing to go after the knapsacks. Ponchos sound the easiest to carry. So, now I know some survival tips, in case I’m accidentally transported back in time to 1861 as an able bodied 20 year old man. How useful!
It is very strange and mostly nice how everyone responded to our getting married! So glad that we ran off secretly so as to keep all that minimal.
Meanwhile, last night we read some very terrible poetry by that lawyer poet mayor of SF, which led us to try and find songs to sing his horrible sonnets to as we obsessed over the meter, and a particular poem about Andreé’s Pigeon which led us to get extremely obsessed with S. A. Andrée’s disastrous Arctic Balloon Expedition of 1897. Tonight after dinner and some excellent pastries and explaining everything about how our day went to each other, I showed off my complex bugzilla queries and Danny is explaining his AMAZING command line email system and fixing a bug in it while also showing me his Beeminder logs.
We are also planning our Vallejo honeymoon cruise since we miss marina life and would enjoy hanging out with the radioactive waste of old nuclear submarines and derelict buildings that are slowly gentrifying into breweries.