Ten years ago this season when my father died, no one who had lived through the Great Depression and WWII could have ever imagined a world crisis such as we have today.  I’m glad he didn’t have to live to see this.  Here is his yahrzeit memorial candle, which I lit last night on the Jewish lunar anniversary.

And here are more flowers blooming on this deceptively pleasant spring erev, with Passover coming up this week.  It will be a very sober Pesach, with everyone sequestered away from their families.  I say “sober” in the sense of “sobering”, not in the sense of the traditional sacred drinking oneself under the table.  I predict a little more of the latter this year, for therapeutic purposes.

I figure while I’m waiting to die (it being TN, after all, so business as usual), might as well take advantage of this seriously spring weather and plant more stuff!  First, I planted some herb seeds indoors.  Then I went outside and planted violas, nasturtiums, and lupines.  All my salad greens and veggies are coming up.  Hopefully somebody will get to enjoy all this!

I was really happy to see one of my self-seeded native columbines blooming, and also the first of the native woodland dwarf irises.  Dogwoods and many perennials are in full bloom, and bees are getting down to work.  I feel bad for Misu, who longs to join me out there, but I know it’s for the best, especially right now.  She finds many ways to be compensated for her loss.

This is the first time I’ve seen no April Fools Day posts.  I think we’re all too traumatized to make whimsical seasonal jokes. I could say something about our fool-in-chief, who thought the whole pandemic was a joke, and was going to open the country back up in early April, but it’s all been said, and nobody with a brain is fooled.

I got to have a video chat and drinks with my son yesterday, once I figured out which way was up, so-to-speak.  It’s not quite the same as in person, but it helps to fend off the sense of isolation.  Vid confs are the new visits.

Outside, it’s back to cold.  I planted one veg row, then shivered back inside.  The few new flowers were shivering, too, so the photos are a bit unfocussed.  No, it wasn’t from the “magic mushroom”.  Or was it?

I don’t generally do “food selfies”, but self-quarantining does tend to limit one’s subject matter to home.  It’s raining again, and not much is new outside since yesterday.  One thing about shopping only when absolutely necessary–you find yourself doing even more from scratch, using basic staples.  It’s like a hippie flashback to simpler days of whole grains and beans and homemade everything, minus all the health-snob frills of bygone times. Or more realistically, like the ghost of WWII-era austerity and resourcefulness.

Fortunately we’re not reduced to extreme homesteading–yet.  We still have public water and utilities, thankfully, or we’d all be screwed.  One more dramatic reminder never to take the status quo for granted.  I suspect after this is over, many of us will never quite return to “normal”.  Maybe in a sense that’s a good thing.  It’s a harsh wakeup call, but nature has a habit of doing that when we get too complacent and don’t think ahead.  I’m reminded that we in this country are privileged to even be able to social-distance with clean running water, hygiene, and enough supplies to last at home for a while.  Not everyone has that luxury.

So here is my humble homemade-from scratch navy bean soup and wholegrain cornbread.  Some deep-digging in the dark recesses of the pantry was involved.  I’m also ramping up my reduce-reuse-recycle skills rather than wasting disposable products that are hard to obtain.  (No, not TP yet!  Not quite that desperate.)

There’s something so surreal about mowing the yard while Tennesseans all around us are ignoring reality and praying away the virus as they die.  I won’t say what I’m thinking about locking up a certain dangerous infant-in-chief so we can get on with surviving.  But anyway, mow we did, while we still can!  Here are more obligatory flower shots.

Only a few hours later, flowers are opening wide in these perfect spring conditions, sunny, breezy, 75º.  I’m especially glad to see R&B’s little gift dogwood finally beginning to bloom for the first time.  The old white dogwood is covered in white, as is the azalea.  The front maple is dripping with red “wings”.  The closed tulip from this morning is now open and glowing.  And I finally got a shot I like of some redbud flowers closeup.  [Not pictured in above order.]

Last night’s wild t-storms lashed at the house and blasted tree limbs across the yard.  Everything got pressure-washed!  No trees down, though.  Just a lot of new growth, including signs of my native wildflowers starting to come up out in the “prairie”, which I’m happy about.  Almost all my baby trees seem to be doing well.  Despite the horror going on in the world, fueled by our adversary-in-chief, there are signs of life going on, with or without us.

The lavender-flowered plant is comfrey, a medicinal herb.

Here, rant-free, are more spring scenes: a (native) redbud tree in bloom, and perennial variegated brunnera flowers.   Also, Misu enjoying her new bathroom windowsill (by E).

I was happy to discover my hops from last year coming up!  I may need them for medicinal purposes later on!

Our tantrumy-toddler-in-chief is busy insulting desperate governors and proactive manufacturers, because they’re not appreciative enough?!   Our US death toll has surpassed all the other countries, while exhausted medical personnel are resorting to trash bags and rags in lieu of actual equipment.  Meanwhile, in backward states like ours,  governors continue to make light of it all and call for churches and tourist traps to reopen, while medieval pastors predictably blame gays, abortionists, and the Chinese for the virus.  And mobs of rats are roaming the deserted streets of New Orleans, searching for food.  What century is this, again?  Leeches, anyone?  Got some laudanum?

But nature rolls on, oblivious to our human ineptitude.  Incongruously, it’s a perfect spring day today, as if the world is not dying by the thousands all around us.  So much is surreal about this novel coronavirus.  It’s like a war of the worlds, viral vs. human.  No one knows how it ends, other than not well.  Meanwhile, here are cheery native trees, flowering shrubs, violets, tropical orchids, and a languid cat for your quarantine enjoyment.

If there was ever any doubt that our madman-in-chief is delusional and self-serving, it has to be obvious by now.  Yet somehow his ratings go up?!  Apparently that’s what people look for in a president–a psychopath.

The death toll is rising drastically, desperately needed medical equipment and facilities are not forthcoming, the virus is obviously spreading everywhere, but without the testing to provide accurate stats, and all our president can think of is how the resulting crashing economy affects his own re-election, and getting back to “normal” fast.  Total denial.  How can someone this dangerous and incompetent be allowed to remain in charge?  I just don’t get it.  At some point all the states and private sector just struggle forward without him to produce medical necessities.

I myself almost panicked this morning, as my computer had a mysterious dysfunction and wouldn’t let me connect, but it’s back up.  It’s my only real connection to the outside world right now, since I’m not much of a smartphone user.  There’s some weird stuff going on out there during this breakdown of everything we take for granted.

One thing that continues to function dependably is spring in all its flowering.  For a moment there I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do my little photo editing routine, but I’m back.  Here are: my fence bed preps, indoor tomato seedlings, maple wings, a violet, azaleas, perennials, and a unique mushroom growing in a peat pot.