Showing posts with label Corona Virus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Corona Virus. Show all posts

Monday, January 31, 2022

I Had No ...










    

    I had not recognized that I had not written in the calendar year of 2022 as yet.

    I had not known that I had not written until I was asked why I had not written.

    I had no answer to why I had not written when I had written in the year.

    I had not realized that other had noticed that I had not written until they mentioned that they were looking for my writings.

    I had no fans before I wrote my stories and now that I have fans the stories must continue to be wrote. 



Friday, September 10, 2021

We Go Again








 

Here we go again, another lap around the globe as we grapple to "flatten the curve in fourteen days", now in its second year.

I have returned to writing after an extended absence in another country fulfilling the obligations of emergency management in the Covid era. Returning to writing I have been presented with atopic that continues to plague me, grief.

Twenty one days to complete a manuscript for publication.

Yup, we go again. Damaged goods.  



Sunday, May 30, 2021

Home After Three Months








For the past three months, I have been ....away from home. This Memorial Day weekend is the first weekend that I have been home, since...Saint Patrick's Day

Home being the mailing address where my bills are sent - not the nation of my birth.

Very shortly, I will be transitioning into a new role, compliments of, perhaps the second most important woman in my life.

I'll be getting back to writing and recovery.


Friday, November 27, 2020

Workmanship of a Writer








 

Uggh.

California is about to go back into lockdown as the Covid 19 virus continues to ransack the State. Not all Counties will go into lock down to the same degree, nor at the same time. This creates a situation for me as a writer as my residency and office are located in two different counties, approximately eighty (80) miles apart.

Eighty miles is a long way for a virus to move when everything is shut down. A secondary residency has been taken in a hotel where I can shelter in place for as long as needed without bankrupting the accounts.  Ideally, days at a time are preferred, not weeks.

My Father, currently located in a  state where the temperatures are reaching almost 50 Celsius, has ridden out the winter of the virus, but unlike Southern California, there are less people per square mile in Australia. Social distancing is automatic in a country of sweeping plains. 

The completion of works during this time has not occurred, not through failure, but with the occupancy of time by virus impediments, I would say that I written less this year than last.

Not the greatest workmanship of a writer when compared to Stephen King or James Patterson





Friday, August 28, 2020

Lap 54, Day 162

 

Second half. 

As the California "stay at home" orders continue to escalate with the returning surge of Covid-19, the desire to write is,,,diminishing. It's not that I don't have the discipline, it's more along the lines that other than medical facilities, it's been five months inside the same room.  Some call it cabin fever.

I always thought that I could single handed sail long distances. Not necessarily a circumnavigation, but I thought I could do oceanic crossings, stay a while, continue on. Maybe I will have that ability one day but after five months, I'm no so sure.

Today I celebrated another lap of the solar system and head out again, without my daughters. In a conversation with my Father this evening I spoke briefly about them. He, the man who lost his own children, but regained them miraculously, was a better Father than I. I never regained mine.

Still, I had lasagna tonight as if they were here. 

Thursday, August 13, 2020

Day 147






   One hundred and forty seven days ago I went into isolation with the California lockdown. That's five months. The "need" to remain at  home isolated from the pandemic was a "protection" assignment. Protecting someone else.

  In five months I have gained about fifteen pounds, predominately through inactivity. Just recently I have begun a light exercise program in which I ensure that the dogs (plural) are walked each night.  They are not my dogs.

  The days are somewhat disjointed as there is not regimented rising time, but the meals are as scheduled three times a day - with a slight variance for the evening meal based on travel time for another occupant of the house. I'm not making two evening meals a day.

  Before I came to the United States, I was an accomplished sailor on the racing circuit. I often wondered if I had it in me to sail single handed long distances. Though I never aspired to sole circumnavigate the globe, it was a question in my mind of could I transfer my race skills to cruising skills.

  I'm no longer sure I could solo circumnavigate. I'm sure that the days would be vastly different but in my twelve square feet office, I have found myself...wandering about. There is always something to do, but not always something I want to do.  And I found the reason for that.

  It's been one hundred and forty seven days since I went into isolation. That's five months. 




    They're not my dogs. 5 Months.  One hundred and forty seven days. 

Saturday, July 25, 2020

Two Thirds of a Trilogy








  In the Covid era of "writing" I have had the opportunity to put more hours into my craft while I remain at home caring for a parent susceptible to the disease. While the parent has not been a 24/7 "needs assistance" patient, they are in fact a 24/7 "needs assistance to be available" patient. The writing has come in shift, waves, periods of activity punctuated by medical appointments and medication requirements.

  The major project has received attention, to the point, where it is now approaching the editing process.  Each day, there are events occurring which retroactively, affect the construction of the "major project" and could add additional chapters to the work. I have had an addition this week, that if included, completely alters the storyline of the project - and thus it has to be omitted.

  From this work. That's not to say that it could not be added to another major project.

  And thus begins the second major project of writing, a sequel to the first major project.

  I was once told that whenever you write a major project, be prepared to turn it into a trilogy.

  I have two thirds now.



Friday, July 17, 2020

Marooned Until Dates Unknown








  The Covid-19 pandemic is beginning to affect productivity.

  I sleep in shifts now, maybe four to five hours at most. I rarely maintain a uniform schedule, in part due to the elderly parent that I care for, around whom I have to work.

  The flights to Australia have been diminished to the point that should something happen to my Father, I will not be able to get to the county, let alone to him.

  I have, indeed, become "marooned" - as I have have so poignantly written about previously. I am now stranded with 354 million others in the United States of America. The advertised travel on my web site has all been pushed back until "dates unknown".

Sunday, May 31, 2020

Film Maker


 






  The new version of Blogger is coming.

  Wonderful.

  Another new platform that was fully functional, now has to be relearned.

  As a writer I occasionally am asked to take my "words" into another arena. This time it's into film. By the first week of August I have been asked to produced three short films based on an article that I wrote last year.  The films will be in the Imovie format for distribution to the entity that requested the service.

  Not a big deal, but I guess now I am a film maker.

Saturday, May 9, 2020

Day 54 Writting Material




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  Day 54. That was last Friday. I fractured a rib.

  I would love to be able to say that it was a result of some super human rescue effort, but alas, the reality of the rescue is more comical than expected. I fractured a rib reaching for the television remote.

  Over the back of the chair.

  On the floor.

  The sensible thing to do was move the chair and ergonomically collect the remote. No, I had to reach over and the sound of the rib cracking was heard, not only by me, but by another.

  There was no blog entry last week as I tried to establish how much damage was done. I could breathe - that was a plus. I was able to stand and sleep, but the moment I got into the car the following day, that's when it started. The Doctor at the Urgent Care that I eventually got to (the following Wednesday) confirmed the splintering of the rib by X-ray.

  "Nothing we can do to help you," she said.

  Why did I bother to go.

  As an author, this would be my first "writer injury", that which was incurred in the execution of writing duty. I should be awarded a purple ink pen.

  This week, the writing slowed down as the crevice that is inside me bruised up with the fractured rib.

  The only bonus to come from this is that a second work I have written has the protagonist in isolation for almost a year. Now, they too have a fractured rib.

  Writing material from Day 54.

Saturday, April 25, 2020

40 Days and 40 Nights











  40 days and 40nights have passed since I personally went into isolation due to the pandemic.


  Accomplishments? Not a lot, other than surviving.

  Did I have to accomplish anything in this time? No.

  Did I need to accomplish anything in this time?  No.

  What happened was during this time, others who were in need turned to me for their safety so that they did not fall to the virus.

  And what did I gain out this?

  Nothing.

  But I wasn't expecting to. I just did my job, as an essential worker to the two people who needed it the most.

  And, I did write a lot more than I expected.




Friday, April 10, 2020

Good Friday and an Easter Remberance




     Easter was a (mostly) enjoyable time for me growing up.

     As a child, it was school break, traveling on the longest weekend of the year, and with the autumnal weather, cool enough during the day and warm enough at night to sleep.  Later, I found myself in the servitude of the Church during the Easter celebrations, the mostly holiest time of the year.

     As a teenager, Easter changed. In 1982 my father, drove north to Laguna Bay where my brother and I sailed in our first major regatta.  We were rank outsiders, two young kids, unknowns. Not surprisingly, we were robbed blind after the final race. We drove home that weekend with a new focus. I would go on to win seven (7) titles, but nothing would ever erase that memory of that Easter.

   What I remember the most of that Easter was the weather. Old enough to remember, it would become the blueprint for all future Easter regattas I attended. Raining, wet, and despite the autumnal weather, cold enough during the day for hypothermia and not warm enough at night to sleep. My father would launch us off the beach, have warm food for us on our return, and relaunch us in the afternoon. He did more for my sailing history than I could ever thank him for.

     Here we are, 38 years later and the weather in Southern California this Easter weekend reminds me so much of what happened at Laguna Bay. The rain, the coldness, the thievery and the subsequent follow through. I am feeding two sick patients, albeit, not at the beach in the elements. However, I am currently on day 28 of isolation from Corona virus with the same emotions back then - there is nothing I can do to change what has occurred, but I will never let this happen again.

     Easter was a (mostly) enjoyable time for me growing up - I hope I have more enjoyment that this.

Saturday, April 4, 2020

California...feels like 1974.





  California, during the pandemic, fells like 1974.

  In 1974, my parents were living in the married quarters of the local army base. On a Saturday morning, my mother would drive about 20 minutes away to a large retail center where we would do our grocery shopping. The aisles were packed as trading on a Saturday ceased at either noon or 12:30pm.

  Up and down the aisles we would travel, filling the cart, amid the noise of people chatting. If you weren't in the store when the doors open, by the time you reached some sections, the shelves would be bare and from past experiences, you knew that they would not be restocked before the end of the day, so you moved on without that item.

  At the checkouts there were lines of people seven and eight deep, but there was room to move as each shopper gave a courtesy to the other occupants in the store. The groceries and items were bagged into a light brown paper bag, and placed back in the cart.

  The parking lot was multi level, so on days when you parked on the lowest level, when you exited the store, you couldn't tell what the weather was like. You would look down and see streams of water beginning to run downhill through the parking lot and you knew it was raining. If you were exiting the store at noon, the rush would be over, and you might see the other stores closing up for the weekend. By the time 1:00pm arrived, everything was closed. People were home, no one was on the street, traffic was non existent.

  California feels a bit like those Saturday mornings in 1974. With the health issue across the nation, the eyes that I have 46 years later take in a different perspective, but it still has the same feel about.

  Except that in 1974, those were some of the best memories of my childhood. Not a lot of memories from the Covid crisis that I want to carry for the next 46 years. 




Thursday, March 26, 2020

Fifteen Minutes At A Time







  I have established that, at best, while working from home, that I can work for a maximum of fifteen (15) minutes at a time.

  It's not that I lack the concentration or focus to enable me to perform for several hours.  It's the needless distractions that have to be attended to which limit my output, to fifteen minutes at a time.

  Today, I woke and sat down at my desk. Booted up the computer and during the morning email review, checked on the elderly parent that I care for. Thus endeth the first fifteen minutes.

  The dogs barked fifteen minutes later. Check and verify that they are barking at the wind.

  The cat started bitching about something. Get up and verify that the cat is just bitching about nothing.

  The landline telephone rings, it's a scam caller, so naturally, the elderly parent answers it.

  That's the first hour. I've risen four times for outside distractions, broken the train of thought and been distracted from my work.

  The second hour. The dogs again. Fifteen minutes later there's a truck driving by that makes a loud sound; and the dogs go apeshit. The usual swearing and cursing at the dogs hastens their retreat to the elderly parents lap. I no sooner return and the elderly parent is moving about in the kitchen - investigation required. Fifteen minutes later, there's a door slam inside the house - elderly parent has taken to their bathroom.

  While the current health situation has put a lot more people to work in their residency, there are a couple of thoughts about this. If we can work from home during a health issue, why can't we work from home after the health issue? The roads would be freer, the commute time would be reduced, people would still be earning an income.

  And then the dogs bark again, this time at a leaf falling...three miles away.

  And now I know why people go to their corporate office.  It's not so they can accomplish any additional work, it's so they are not working fifteen minutes at a time distracted by ridiculous home matters.  Far better to be distracted at work every fifteen minutes by the phone and loose two hours of your day in the commute back and forth, than to stay at home and complete the same volume distracted by..leaves falling every fifteen minutes. 

Wednesday, March 11, 2020

How To Work From Home in a Pandemic




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  Across the United States, employees are being told to "work from home" as an attempt to stem the flow of the Corona Virus, CoVid-19. As people do so, they are some techniques that can be employed to ensure that you actually accomplish "work" while at home.

GET DRESSED
  You wouldn't report to workplace in your pajamas, nor should you report to your home work station in the same clothes you slept in. While you may not exercise the same dress standard as the work place, getting dressed is a psychological tool to differentiate between being at work, and working from home.

HAVE A PLACE TO WORK
  Even if you have to clear a spot at the dinning room table, have a dedicated work station. Sturdy chair, flat surface, lighting and ventilation are the hallmarks of establishing the invisible boundary from home and work. Coaches, beds, and floor space are not work stations.

KEEP A SCHEDULE
  Your mind functions better if it maintains a schedule of events. If you are an office worker with office hours, maintain that schedule while you work from home. Your employer will still need to reach you, your co workers will need to collaborate with you and your subordinates will still need to report to you. While you may no longer have to clock in and clock out to the minute, don't be the guy who misses the video conference because you weren't "at work".

MINIMIZE DISTRACTIONS
  This is, in my opinion, the most important. The access to you by other family members may be taken for granted, or that movie you haven't seen may be starting in ten minutes. When you are "working from home" you're no longer available to attend to the domestic chores or ask, and a television should never be on in your work space. It is too tempting to be distracted b the comforts of the home when you should be working.

EXERCISE
  In the workplace, you walk between offices, the lunchroom, maybe tour the facility in order to get your steps in, or to stretch out from your work station. Maintain this approach and ensure that during your "work day". that you try to maintain the same level of physical activity. Walk the dog, leave the car in the garage if you have to go outside, but make allowances that let you continue to exercise. Long hours sitting at your desk and hen flopping into bed is counter productive.

   There's a method to how I work from home. I maintain the same schedule: rise, breakfast dress and report to my work station prior to 7am. Email are no more than 15 minutes as it's too easy to be distracted. I break for lunch at noon every day and return about 30 minutes later. Around 1.30pm I get up and walk the dogs, come hail, rain or shine. Returning about 2pm, I check emails one more time and write till about 4.30pm. There is no television near my work station, although I have a CD player I occasionally put on low volume.

  Jacob, the cat, is my sole co worker at home, and I often engage in workplace conversations with him. Though working from home can be a solitary assignment, there is no reason why you have to be "alone".