Witchy Wednesday: Take 13

The Spell of Fresh Air

Today, I (Dissy) decided that it had been entirely too long since I’ve just jumped in my car and went.

Once upon a time, I was that gal who loved to gas up her wheels and hit the road for the day. Mostly, I’d end up in Cleveland, where I’d roam around the waterfront down near the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame or some local cemeteries. Time permitting, I’d do and see it all.

Honestly? In this current state of affairs? We don’t know how long before we are all confined to our homes for a quarantine of an undetermined amount of time until this pandemic resolves itself (I say “resolves itself” because it doesn’t seem like anyone else is interested in doing more than posture on social media about it).

So, my dog and I jumped into our nifty red Nissan Juke, and we hit the road.

She’s mad I wouldn’t let her poop on the Sheppard yard.

We decided to drive out to Elyria to investigate some ancestral information I had been researching yesterday. I plugged the address into the GPS, set it at “avoid highways,” and we headed to the gas station.

I decided we needed music for the occasion, and… I have to say… so much peace and healing went on inside of me today. I wish I could put it into the words it deserves and share it with all of you. I heard a bunch of high-minded music, and I heard a bunch of low-minded music. What mattered is that it was all me. What mattered is that it reminded me of my joy, what brings a smile to my soul.

The bottom line is this, folks. There is magick in simply being you. The you that existed before you were polluted with other people’s expectations and desires.

Let’s turn this over to Barb now and see what’s on her mind.

That sounds like a wonderful way to spend the day! Years ago, I would drive around with friends at the drop of a hat, no particular destination in mind, just get in and go.

For far too long, I’ve let myself get swallowed alive by routine. Monday thru Friday is work, Saturday is grocery shopping, Sunday is laundry, week after week.

I’ve been working on getting me back, remembering how to be a person. There’s a difference in being an employee/wife/mother/etc., and being a self.

Whatever may come from the current situation, we all need to remember the importance of taking a step back and just being.

Thank the Gods for Tuesdays.

Cent’anni, Bitches!!

Monday Musings With Dissy: episode 12

Well, we’ve been doing a lot of slacking here lately. Some of it is due to the lack of inspiration. We really don’t get out enough to generate blog fodder. That needs to freaking change with a quickness. Oh. Wait. It can’t just yet.

Some of it, too, is due to sickness. Neither of us have the CV yet, but there is also a ridiculous flu going around and tis the season for allergies.

So… how ’bout that there Coronavirus? Hopefully, you’re all healthy and safe. I’m going to assume you all know the precautions to take, and, if not, well, then quarantine yourself for the safety of the masses because they are more important than you. Why? Because you don’t pay attention. Stop being a baby.

Last night, we got the official word from my employer that we are to start working from home until further notice. That is one thing you absoutely will not hear me complaining about. I’ve always suspected I would be a more productive human being and worker if I was able to work from home. We are about to put that to a test.

Today, so far, I have cleaned my closet room, vacuumed that floor and the floor in my bedroom, I swept and mopped the kitchen floor, tidied up in the kitchen as much as possible until we can get my drain problems handled and I can wash the dishes, I set up my home office, which is in a small alcove off my kitchen (I love this little area here), I walked my doggie, and now I’m ready to spend the next 8 hours telling folks to restart their shit.

Daisy-Lou sniffing everything on the west side of Cleveland.
I love my little work area.

I’m not sure what’s going on in other states, but we’ve also had our governor officially announce that bars and dine-in services at restaurants are shut down until further notice. The part of me that wants to protect others from contracting CV is glad this is happening, and there is another part of me that is concerned with liberties being trodden upon. I posted a rant on facebook about people whining about this and called people bitching about the closures selfish. By and large, I stand by that statement, yet, a small part of me can see their point.


Sure, it’s anyone’s choice to go out into the world and interact at his or her whim. It’s my choice to stay home or go out unnecessarily if I want. The problem comes in when we begin to impact other people who are concerned and are following the precautions. And this isn’t as simple as me maybe telling my son to not come over and visit because I know he was out partying the other night.

We all have to continue doing certain things like working and shopping for food. Are you okay with carrying that shit around and infecting others?

Well? Are you?

I always say the world is over-populated, and some of us do simply have to go. That being said, I’m not personally willing to be responsible for that, and I’m not sure I’m okay with my immediate circle being okay with being responsible for the transmission of disease that has and can kill.

The conspiracy theorist in me is literally screaming about martial law, but my logic says something else entirely. I don’t know what to think, and, while I’m not afraid, I am seeing the need for caution. Why don’t you?

Until next time…

Cent’anni, Bitches!

What, Me Worry?

Yesterday, I got two very unsettling pieces of information.

First, there was the robocall from the superintendent of Girl Child and Best Friend’s school district. Keep in mind, these schools do not close. Ever. We had a winter storm that dumped almost a foot of snow and the temperature dropped down to single digits. School was in session like normal, every day.

Girl Child and I actually joked yesterday morning that the superintendent would keep the schools open even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, so take a guess how I felt when that call came, telling me the schools will be closed tomorrow in order to deep clean all the buildings and get a plan in place for dealing with COVID-19.

Then came the memo at work.

Now, I genuinely like my job. For the most part everyone I work with/for is great. Having said that, we have one top level executive who isn’t exactly known for being warm and fuzzy. This person is more the “tough love” type, except without the “love”.

But hey, I’m not the one responsible for running an entire company, so what do I know, right?

The beginning of the memo was advising all employees that if anyone tests positive, the company is going to pay them in full for the two weeks of recovery and quarantine, and then there was the form we all had to fill out. What kind of internet access do you have at home? Do you have a PC? Turns out, my little company is buying equipment for the very real possibility that we may have to go totally remote for an undetermined period of time.

I like to think I’ve been appropriately cautious up until now. I don’t need to be told to clean my house, wash my hands, and don’t cough on people, because I’m not a toddler. So, little more hand sanitizer, avoid anyone who looks sick, and I should be golden, right? Seeing that person’s name on a memo, spelling out how the company is making plans out of concern for our health and safety, was, however, a shock to the system.

I’ll admit, my first thought was, “Holy shit we’re all gonna die!” Which isn’t exactly rational, but well in keeping with who I am as a person, in case you haven’t noticed. My second thought was, “Calm the fuck down you goddamn lunatic.” Also very me. Because reasons.

For now, I’m going to keep living my life.

The kids will go to school, Jay and I will go to work, grocery shopping Saturday morning and yoga with Dissy at the ass crack of dawn Sunday. I don’t know what’s coming, no one really does.

Stop stockpiling pallets of toilet paper like you plan on shitting twice your body weight twice a day.

No you can’t make your own hand sanitizer from most booze.

And for the love of the gods…

Wash your fucking hands.

Cent’anni, Bitches!