Is This the Vaccine at Work?

I go through an afternoon of flu-like symptoms and wonder whether it’s the vaccine actually working to fight COVID-19.

I’m curious.

I got my COVID-19 vaccine about a month ago. It was the Johnson & Johnson one-and-done vaccine that isn’t on the top of most people’s list of choices for getting vaccinated. Its efficacy is supposedly lower than the other two vaccines approved in the US — the two-dose Pfizer and Modera vaccines — and it recently was put on “pause” (and then resumed) when it was tied to blood clots in younger women.

I had a reaction to the vaccine that started about 12 hours after I got it. First, every single muscle in my body — including ones I didn’t even know I had — ached. Some ibuprofen got me through that. Then, for the next 36 hours, I was completely exhausted by mid afternoon. After a total of 48 hours, I was back to normal.

I haven’t had any reactions since.

I still wear my mask when I’m shopping and doing other things around strangers, but I don’t wear one around friends. But this weekend, I was in close quarters, maskless, with friends I know were vaccinated and some of their friends who may not have been. (After writing this, I discovered that they were.) I didn’t think twice about it, but now I’m wondering.

For the past two days, I’ve been completely zonked out again in the afternoon. While it wasn’t bad on Tuesday, it was terrible yesterday. I wasn’t even that active during the day — I went asparagus picking and then shopped for garden plants. When I got home at 3 PM, I was wiped out.

Around 4 PM, I stretched out on my bed to rest and read and wound up falling asleep. I slept on and off while my pups used my bed as a playground. I was so out of it that even them running over my body and making growling noises at each other didn’t snap me out of it.

A phone call at 6 woke me up. I fed my pups, let them out, and lay down again. I slept for another hour and then let my pups back in.

Then I got my pajamas on and stretched out to read again. By 7:30, I was dead asleep. And I slept until nearly 4 AM.

That’s a total of nearly 12 hours of sleep.

In all fairness, I did take an allergy pill yesterday morning at about 7 AM. My nose had been running like a faucet for the past two days, with sneezing and some small amounts of phlegm. The pills are generics and their “best by” date was back in 2017. The bottle says take one per day. I’d expect that if a side effect was sleepiness, it wouldn’t take 9 hours for that side effect to kick in.

This morning, I feel awake but still tired. I’m having a little trouble keeping warm with the heat in the house set to 71°F. I’m achey, but not terribly so — it could just be the aches that are common from non-movement for long periods of time. (If you’re near my age or older, you know what I mean.) My allergies are not bothering me (yet).

I don’t feel sick, if you know what I mean. Just run down and achey. Kind of how I felt after I got my vaccine.

So my question is this: Is it possible that I was exposed to COVID-19 over the weekend and my vaccinated body is fighting it off? How would I be able to find out?

Again, I’m curious.

Wear a Damn Mask!

It ain’t over yet.

Yesterday, on Twitter, one of the folks I follow retweeted this:

I generally do not retweet something just because someone told me to. I’m not a mindless robot. But this one really resonated with me, mostly because I’d seen a couple in Home Depot a few days before that who were maskless and I wanted to assume it was because they had been vaccinated — and not because they were complete assholes idiots. Apparently some folks believe that because they’ve been vaccinated, they can’t get/carry/spread COVID-19.

This is not true.

So I retweeted it. And then I replied:

This response triggered two virus-denying assholes idiots to respond. One insinuated that it was impossible to “enjoy life” with a mask on.

Huh?

Science Mask
This is the mask I wore to get my vaccine last month. Double layer of fabric and comfortable. Why wouldn’t I wear this when among strangers in enclosed spaces?

First of all, let me clarify something. I don’t wear a mask at home. I don’t wear a mask while socializing (with some amount of distance) with my vaccinated friends and neighbors. I don’t wear a mask while driving. I don’t wear a mask anywhere that there’s no chance of swapping a significant amount of breathing air with someone I don’t know — for example, outdoors when I’m away from people. I basically wear a mask when I go shopping for groceries, hardware, etc. or talk to someone at my truck/Jeep/car window (think coffee, fast food, vet appointment). I wear a mask when I’m among strangers.

I don’t consider that a hardship. I also don’t believe it impacts my ability to “enjoy life.”

I have to wonder about people who make idiotic comments about a mask impacting their ability to “enjoy life.” Where do they think they need to wear their mask? What kind of mask are they wearing? Would they prefer to skip the mask and possibly get/spread COVID-19?

I’m sure that a person’s ability to “enjoy life” would be impacted by a COVID-19 infection, whether it’s their own infection or the infection of a friend or loved one who got it because of their selfish stupidity.

Wear a damn mask! It ain’t over yet.

Traveling in COVID Times

Almost surreal.

This past Monday, I headed out for a six day trip to California and back. The goal was to deliver my helicopter to a friend in the Los Angeles area. He’ll be leasing it for the next two months and I’ll get it back in mid May. I flew my helicopter down, accompanied part of the way by my friend, and took an airliner home. It was the first time I’ve been in an airliner in about two years.

I thought I’d blog briefly about the hotels, restaurants, and airports I stopped in along the way, mostly because the experiences were so unlike what I’ve had in the past.

The Hotels

The trip required a total of five nights in hotels. Across the board, all hotels required masks in the lobby and other public areas.

The first two nights were in McMinnville, Oregon, where I had stopped to get the helicopter an annual inspection prior to delivering it in Los Angeles. I stayed at a Comfort Inn for about $100/night. The room was comfortable, with everything I needed to get some work done while I waited.

On one full day of my stay in the area, I went to the Evergreen Aviation Museum, which I hope to blog about elsewhere. Afterwards, I went into town to grab a bite to eat — more on that later.

Evergreen
The Spruce Goose at Evergreen Aviation Museum was one of the highlights of my trip.

When I got back to my room, I was surprised to see that it had not been freshened by housekeeping. I later discovered that housekeeping services for stay-over guests is something I shouldn’t expect these days. I’m not sure why; maybe they are trying to reduce the exposure of housekeeping staff to potentially infected rooms? I wouldn’t have minded so much, but by not freshening the room, I came back to the same full garbage pail I’d left with the added aroma of that garbage and no coffee for the morning. While I like clean towels and a made bed, not getting those wasn’t a hardship at all.

The breakfast room was pared down beyond reason. They didn’t want you sitting in there, which I could understand, and they made it easy enough to take food to go (and add to your in-room garbage collection). But they lacked a lot of the easy (and safe) basics, like instant oatmeal, cereal packages, or a toaster for the bread, which was placed, unwrapped, in a self-serve lucite box. So yes, you could get a piece of bread or English muffin that everyone may have breathed on, but you couldn’t toast it.

The next night was spent at a Red Roof Inn in Susanville, CA, which was also about $100 for the night. That hotel didn’t even have a coffee maker in the room. And since the hotel consisted of multiple buildings, getting coffee in the lobby in my lounge clothes was not an option. Fortunately, there was a Starbucks across the street, which we hit on our way back to the airport. I’m a sucker for their double smoked bacon sandwiches and can tolerate their lattes.

The last two nights were spent at the Los Angeles Airport Hilton on Century Boulevard. At $125 per night for a 12th floor room that overlooked runways 25L and 25R, I really enjoyed just sitting in my room in the morning and evening, watching the planes go by. (I even live-streamed the action for about 90 minutes.) This is one of the old, soundproofed hotels between the runways on Century, built in 1983. As one Trip Advisor reviewer said, “This is a Hilton, built when Hilton’s were top of the line.” If you stayed in Hiltons back in those days — as I did for my business travel in the late 1980s — you know exactly what he’s talking about. The Hilton name used to mean quality and this hotel is from that era, although it was renovated in 2013. Solid rooms with nice furniture. Giant mirrors for checking your image before going out to that business meeting or a show. Hell, even a lighted makeup mirror in the bathroom. It did lack a few of the amenities you’d find in a modern business hotel, such as additional outlets and USB ports. And it didn’t have the microwaves and fridges I’d had in the other two hotels I stayed in. But my room was large and there were enough towels for both nights of my stay.

View from my Room
I paid $10/night extra for a room facing the runways. Does that make me an #AvGeek?

What was weird, however, was the cold emptiness of the lobby, with minimal furniture — basically a handful of high-top bar tables and chairs — and no lingering people. The second floor, which probably gave access to the pool and hot tubs I could see from my room, was closed. One of the restaurants was closed; another had opened for the first time in a year that very day. Room service was not available. Even that notebook full of hotel information, menus, and area details was missing. Stickers on the elevator floor instructed you to stand in a corner if you were riding with someone else.

Yet the airport shuttle service was completely packed in the morning with so many people waiting that I actually walked a block away to the Marriott to get on their shuttle, which quickly filled up. I guess social distancing only applies when it’s convenient.

Eating Out

I fully expected to do all my dining outdoors or in my room. I had no desire to eat in an enclosed space — and yes, that includes tents erected in parking lots — with a bunch of maskless strangers. (Eating in contributed greatly to my in-room garbage collection.)

I went for a wine tasting in downtown McMinnville. It was outdoor seating and very pleasant. Afterwards, I found a restaurant with outdoor dining in little pods (for lack of a better name). They were small, individual tents, open on one end, with just a single table and four or six chairs in each. I felt pretty safe in there with my mask off, especially since I ate early in the day and may have been the first person in there since lunchtime.

I ate a ton of fast food before getting to Los Angeles. McDonald’s breakfast, Starbucks coffee with breakfast, KFC dinner. Okay, so maybe that’s not “a ton.” But it’s a lot more than I usually eat in a week.

The only time we ate indoors was at the airport restaurant at South Lake Tahoe. We were two of only six customers when we arrived. The server wore a mask the whole time. We didn’t linger.

For dinner at the Hilton, I had to go to the restaurant in the lobby, order my meal to go from the limited menu I was permitted to look at, wait at one of those high top tables in the empty lobby, and take the food upstairs with me. I discovered that my food wasn’t as described on the menu, but it tasted okay. I wish it had been hotter and I was glad I had wine with me. I could have eaten in the restaurant — there were hardly any people in there — but why take a chance?

I had breakfast and lunch at the Los Angeles Farmer’s Market the next day. The last time I’d been there was in the late 1980s and I could not believe how much it had changed. Yes, the charming, closed in area of vendors still existed. What surprised me about the area is how they’d built an entire shopping center around the old Farmer’s Market. I had coffee and a french pastry for breakfast and later had empanadas and an Italian pastry for lunch. In all cases, I found a table off to itself, unmasked, ate, and masked back up. Everyone in Los Angeles was wearing masks inside and out. They apparently get it. (I admit that it took me a little while to get into the habit of wearing a mask outside.)

LA Farmer's Market
At the LA Farmer’s Market. This part is what I remembered from 30 years ago, but I remember it being a lot busier.

I had a snack later at the Santa Monica pier. Again, I ate outside. It was pleasant.

Santa Monica Pier
I killed some time at the Santa Monica pier on a gorgeous day.

By the way, I used Uber to get around Los Angeles. I had to agree to wear a mask before confirming my ride. All the drivers were masked and most windows were open. I didn’t share a ride with anyone.

(And seriously: how do Angelinos deal with all that freaking traffic?)

The Airports

I was at two kinds of airports during my trip: small general aviation and large commercial.

Mask use was hit or miss at the small airports, most of which were in rural areas where folks tend not to worry too much about the virus. But everyone I saw in Tahoe and Los Angeles was wearing a masks, inside and out.

At LAX, announcements warned that if you didn’t wear a mask in the terminal, they’d kick you out. I had to wait 15 minutes (at 6:30 AM) to get into the Alaska Air lounge — I think they were trying to discourage visitors by making us sign up and wait. When I got in, I was asked to stay masked unless I was eating or drinking and then to mask up afterwards. There was plenty of space between groups of guests. At one point, about half the people in there weren’t masked; they made an announcement and then followed it up with a person going table to table to remind people. This was my first visit to an Alaska Air lounge and I enjoyed it.

On the plane, it was the same thing: wear a mask or get kicked out. Of course, they couldn’t kick you out during the flight, but I can only assume that a troublesome passenger would be met by police on landing. I was flying in first class, which included a meal. (I could swear I ordered a sausage and egg wrap, but what I was given was an egg salad wrap. At 8:30 AM. At least it tasted good.) We were told to mask up as soon as we were finished eating or drinking.

I did notice that some of the first class services I’d come to expect were missing. There were no drinks before takeoff while the plane loaded. The flight attendant didn’t offer to hang up my jacket (although I wound up wearing it during the fight anyway.) There were no hot towels before the meal. There was no alcohol other than beer or wine — this seriously bummed me out because I really look forward to bloody marys with breakfast in first class. Besides, who drinks beer or wine in the morning?

Everyone wore masks at SeaTac and, again, there were regular announcements telling you to do so. It’s a federal law. (Thank you, President Biden.)

I had high expectations for the Alaska Lounge at SeaTac, which is, after all, Alaska Air’s hub. I was disappointed. I had the worst bloody mary I’d had in my life — seriously, bud, you only need a drop of Worcestershire — and the only food choices were apples, oranges, a salad, or tomato soup. Service was definitely lacking — I got the distinct impression that the staff simply didn’t care. (The LAX staff was worlds better.) Access to the lounge had come with my First Class (not upgraded) ticket, but I can only imagine how bummed out I’d be if I’d paid the $25 day fee for the privilege of getting that horrible bloody mary.

My flight from SeaTac to Wenatchee was the same as usual, but with masks. They used to offer a beverage service but had stopped long ago. Hell, it’s only a 20-minute flight. Is it really worth handing out cups of bottled water on a flight that short? I don’t. The only drawback is that Alaska had cut the flights to Wenatchee to just two a day and the other one arrives near midnight. This early afternoon flight was packed. I sure wish they’d add back a few flights.

Vacationing During COVID

I should remind readers that this was not a vacation for me. I made the trip for business. I would not have gone if I didn’t have to.

But it wasn’t like that for a lot of the folks on the airport shuttle from hotel to LAX. More than half of them were going on vacation with their kids in tow. At least one family was going to Hawaii.

The only thing I can say to that is WTF? After spending nearly a week sweating behind a mask every time I was in public — which was nearly all the time — I can’t imagine going on a vacation for more of the same. Why not wait until the pandemic is over or more people are vaccinated?

Are people absolutely nuts?

Anyway, I’m glad to be home with my pups and the projects that keep me busy here. I’ll venture down into town once or twice a week as necessary. I have no plans to travel again until May — when it’s time to bring my helicopter home.

My COVID-19 Test Experience

I get tested and wonder why I bothered.

From the Center for Disease Control (CDC):

People with COVID-19 have had a wide range of symptoms reported – ranging from mild symptoms to severe illness. Symptoms may appear 2-14 days after exposure to the virus. People with these symptoms may have COVID-19:

  • Fever or chills
  • Cough
  • Shortness of breath or difficulty breathing
  • Fatigue
  • Muscle or body aches
  • Headache
  • New loss of taste or smell
  • Sore throat
  • Congestion or runny nose
  • Nausea or vomiting
  • Diarrhea

This list does not include all possible symptoms. CDC will continue to update this list as we learn more about COVID-19.

Let’s be honest: COVID-19 has a lot of potential symptoms, some of which a normal person might have in a normal life, even without actually having the virus (or any serious illness at all).

After getting over a sinus infection that hit me hard in mid-February, I suffered from an on-again-off-again symptoms, including a dry cough, muscle aches and pains, headaches, nasal congestion/runny nose, and fatigue. My body temperature, which has always been a little low, was all over the place — until I discovered that my Kinsa bluetooth thermometer was FUBAR. Its warranty replacement gave more realistic readings that sometimes were a bit on the high side (for me, anyway). A pulse oximeter that I’d purchased to monitor blood oxygen levels gave me readings as low as 95%, which is the bottom end of what’s acceptable — the days with low readings matched the days I was completely wiped out with fatigue. I’d feel like total crap one day and perfectly fine two days later.

You might think I was entering the land of hypochondria and maybe I was. But to further confuse the issue, there were a lot of folks who tested positive for COVID-19 and had no symptoms at all. Or minor symptoms.

Could I be one of those people?

The Local Situation

You got a problem with my characterization of people who refuse to wear masks? Please leave a long and detailed comment for this blog post. The longer, the better. I love deleting the long rants you people leave to showcase your ignorance, stupidity, and often illiteracy. It takes me just a second to delete something that it likely took you a half hour to compose — and that’s exactly what I’m laughing about when I click the Delete button to send your hard work into cyberspace oblivion. Read the site Comment Policy to learn more.

Meanwhile, COVID-19 was taking off in the area where I live. I monitor the local case counts on the local newspaper, the Wenatchee World, website. We were not “flattening the curve.” In fact, case counts were rising steadily in the area. That came as no surprise to me, since this is the red side of a blue state and too many Fox News-brainwashed Trump voters were refusing to wear masks in public and pretty much carrying on as if there were no worldwide health emergency. I, for one, am completely sick of people trying to turn a health issue into a political issue, but here we are.

Total Cases NCW Chelan County COVID Cases
Graphic representation of new cases in North Central Washington (left) and Chelan County (right).

Of course, it didn’t help much that I occasionally did get out and about among people who refused to wear masks. Although I limit my grocery shopping to just once every two weeks or so, I’ve seen enough supermarket employees and customers not wearing masks to know that any one of them could have infected something in my cart or the very air I walked through on my way to grab a half gallon of milk. Ditto for the few other shops I visited on my early morning forays into the world beyond my neighborhood. Like my brother says — and I fully believe — we’re all going to get it sooner or later. Although I’d like to put off my bout with COVID-19 until they have better data on the virus, treatments, and vaccines, for all I knew, I could already have a mild or asymptomatic case.

So I went for a test.

The Test

I made a few phone calls and was finally connected to the Confluence Health COVID-19 Response Team. (If you’re local, call 509-663-8711 and press 1 when prompted.) I was asked about symptoms and I gave them my on-again-off-again symptom list. They gave me the address of a drive up testing facility in Wenatchee about 12 miles from my home.

My sister, who lives in Florida, had warned me that it was common for folks there to wait 8 hours or more in their cars, only to be sent home when the testing place closed before their turn. Because of that, I asked about lines. I was told that the lines were shortest early in the day, right after they opened at 9. So rather than go the day I called, I went the next morning (Thursday), driving into what turned out to be a closed bank parking lot. The testing was set up at what had been drive-up banking lanes.

COVID Testing
A team of nurses stands by with computers to perform COVID-19 tests at a closed bank’s drive-up banking lanes in Wenatchee, WA.

I was the only car there.

It was a gorgeous day and I’d driven in my old Honda S2000 with the top down. My pups were in the passenger seat beside me. I figured the low convertible would be easier for the testers and I think it was.

They took my name and date of birth and found my record. They asked about symptoms and I told them the same thing I’d told the person on the phone.

Then one nurse handed me a bunch of Kleenex while another one came at me with a swab on a long stick. I moved my mask away from my nose, keeping my mouth covered, and she inserted the swab into one nostril. I’d been prepared for what I knew would be unpleasant, but this was worse than I imagined. It didn’t hurt, but it sure was uncomfortable. I was convinced she was trying to swab my brain. And it didn’t help that the dogs decided that was a good time to jump on my lap and chest.

I actually tried to get my head away from her — the car’s headrest made that impossible though — before she finally reached her target and pulled out the swab. It still felt as if the swab was in there. My nose was immediately all sniffly and I was glad for the tissues. I blew my nose and saw some blood on the tissue, but not enough to whine about.

“You’ll have your results in 24 to 48 hours,” she told me after securing the sample in a vial.

“You’ll call?” I asked.

“It’ll be on your MyChart,” she told me.

MyChart is my healthcare provider’s attempt to provide service without directly contacting patients. They put messages and test results there that I never see or hear about because I never think to look there for communication. I hate MyChart and turned it off.

“I don’t use MyChart,” I told her. “I need someone to call. Leave a message if I don’t answer.” (The chances of me not answering my phone during cherry season are slim to none.)

“Okay,” she assured me.

“Positive or negative, right?”

“Yes. If you don’t hear from us in 48 hours, call.”

I thanked her and drove off. I’d feel as if I had a swab up my nose for the rest of the day.

The Results

Blueberry Zucchini Cake
Blueberry Zucchini cake, made from scratch (including the lemon buttercream icing). I picked (and froze) the blueberries last year. The zucchini is from my garden. Tip: any cake recipe you find that includes zucchini will stay moist and fresh a long time. It doesn’t taste at all like zucchini.

Time passed. I didn’t feel any different. I did a lot of work around the yard and garden. I finished a piece of jewelry that had been torturing me with difficult solder joins. I hopped on my ATV and applied weed spray from a 25 gallon tank on 1-1/2 miles of neighborhood road. I did my cherry drying billing and wrote checks for my pilots. I made a cake.

I made the cake on Sunday, which was more than 48 hours after the test. I hadn’t heard anything and couldn’t check MyChart because it had been disabled by Confluence Health at my request. So I had this giant cake and I wanted to share it with neighbors. But what if the results came back and I had the virus? My cake could potentially infect my friends.

It was a big cake.

So I called Confluence Health on Sunday, waited on hold long enough that I thought perhaps their phone tree didn’t know they were closed, and finally got an answer from a woman who sounded very stressed. I told her my results were overdue.

“Well, some of the tests are taking longer than 48 hours,” she told me.

I tried not to get angry about that. I live in a world where I routinely overstate how long something takes so when I deliver more quickly, people are grateful.

She took my name and date of birth and found my record. “Are you still coughing?” she asked.

“Coughing?”

“Yes,” she said. “You told them you had a cough.”

“I have a lot of symptoms that come and go,” I told her. “I explained that to them on the phone and in person.”

“Well, do you still have them?”

“They come and go,” I repeated, wondering what I was saying that she didn’t understand.

“Well, your test results were negative, but there is a chance of false negatives so if you’re still having symptoms you should isolate until 48 hours after all symptoms are gone.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. As I’ve already mentioned above, the symptoms I was having could be symptoms of anything. Hell, aches and pains could be a symptom of being in my 50s and doing too much work in the yard.

I realized that I was no better off than I had been before I’d taken the test. I found myself almost wishing the results had been positive so at least I knew what the symptoms were from and that there was a good chance I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t get very sick from the virus.

I thanked her and hung up.

I started making arrangements with neighbors to drop off huge hunks of that delicious cake.

My Conclusions

After all this, I do have some conclusions.

  • The test is extremely unpleasant, but it is quick and literally painless. If you can get tested, do it. I’m a firm believer that we all should get tested if we can.
  • The test only tells you what your situation is on the day you took the test. If it comes out negative, that doesn’t mean you can’t get infected the day after the test. And since false negatives (and perhaps false positives?) are possible, I’m not sure how useful it is. (Still, see the previous point.)
  • Some symptoms are a better indicator of infection than others. Apparently, 70% of all positive cases also suffer from loss of smell or taste. (I got that on NPR the other day but I’m too lazy to track down the actual news story right now.)
  • We have a lot to learn about the virus. The only way we can learn that is to test people and closely monitor symptoms of those who test positive, even if they are asymptomatic. (See the first point.)

COVID-19 Cases by Country
COVID-19 cases by country per the Johns Hopkins Coronavirus Dashboard.

The situation is worsening in this country, as well as other countries where those at the head of government are not properly advising the populace and setting up a workable plan to fight infection. It’s not just Trump in the United States, but it’s also Johnson in the United Kingdom and Bolsanaro in Brazil. These people are turning a health issue into a political issue — when it so clearly isn’t. Meanwhile, other countries with leaders who are willing to listen to scientists and doctors — like Ardern in New Zealand — are beating the virus back and restoring their economies.

We need a uniting force at the head of our government to bring us together to fight the threat. Until we have that in this country, masks, closures, unemployment, illnesses, and death will be the new normal.

My Life During the Coronavirus Age

Life isn’t that different for some of us.

As COVID-19 continues to rage throughout most of the world — with the notable exception of New Zealand these days — I’ve been doing what I can to avoid getting the virus and, if I have a mild, undiagnosed case, prevent spreading it.

Precautions

The primary way I “stay safe” is to stay home as much as possible. This isn’t difficult because I don’t have anywhere else I need to go other than the supermarket or other shops to get necessities.

For grocery shopping, I occasionally use the pickup service at Fred Meyer, which enables me to place a grocery order and pick it up in a predetermined time slot. If I do go to the store in person, I go in the morning, right after it opens, and I wear a mask.

Wear a mask.

For the folks who can’t be bothered to wear a mask indoors in public places, I say fuck you.

People who wear masks do so to protect others, including you. The very least you can do is wear a mask to protect them.

No excuses. Wear a fucking mask.

Until recently, more than half the customers were wearing masks when I shopped, but things have slacked off here. What bothers me more is that although the store employees are required to wear masks, about half of them do not cover their noses. This includes the checkout staff, who touch everyone’s food and money. On a recent trip, I brought my own bags, which they refuse to pack, specifically so they wouldn’t touch my food more than they had to. When the girl who does the packing — who had a loose-fitting mask that didn’t cover her nose — started handing me my groceries, I told her pointedly not to touch my stuff. I don’t care if she was offended; if she can’t wear her mask properly, she shouldn’t be touching anything.

I’ve been working on various yard projects that need building materials. Every time I needed something, I’d place an order at Home Depot or Lowes and go pick it up. I quickly learned that Home Depot didn’t get it; they required me to go into the store and wait on line to pick up my lumber order; clearly this could have been handled curbside. When they refused to let me exit through the closest door, thus forcing me to walk through the crowded checkout area where no one was wearing masks, I decided that I didn’t need to shop at Home Depot anymore. Lowes had better pickup systems in place and that’s where I now shop for lumber and garden supplies.

Pressure Reducer
I finally put a good pressure reducer on my garden hydrant, which has unregulated pressure over 100 psi.

I had to visit an irrigation supply store to pick up a pressure reducer for my irrigation system and was pleased to see that they were limiting the number of people inside the shop to the number of sales folks they had. The waiting spots outside were marked with tape 6 feet apart. Because the line was outdoors and spaced properly, I wasn’t wearing my mask. Some jackass parked, got out of his SUV, and stood right next to me. He wasn’t wearing a mask. “It’s all a hoax,” he said to me. I looked at him, said “Sure,” and moved six feet away. I was glad when it was my turn to go in.

I have had to meet with clients to pick up checks or maps. One of them handed me a mask when I came into his office; I’d left mine in the truck because it was supposed to be a quick stop. The next time I visited, I wore mine and I know he appreciated it.

(I should note here that since beginning this blog post in mid-June, Washington is now under a mandatory mask order. As you might expect, the brainwashed, flag-waving Fox News viewers around here are already screaming bloody murder about that. I don’t care. I’ll wear mine in public, walk out of stores where people aren’t wearing them, and spend the vast majority of my time at home.)

Social Isolation

The “social isolation” that so many folks are having trouble dealing with isn’t a bother at all to me. I’ve been living alone nearly full-time since May 2012 and, before that, was alone for one quarter to half the time for the previous 14 years because of either my wasband’s extensive travel schedule or mine. I’m not only used to being alone, but I enjoy it. I make my own flexible schedule and get a lot done. I’m free to do what I like when I want to do it, whether it’s mealtime, spontaneous trips, or just going to bed early once in a while.

And are we really socially isolated? Most folks are stuck at home with their families — and I pity them; at this point in my life I’d go nuts if I were stuck at home with anyone. Those of us who live alone can still communicate with friends and family members via telephone, text, and Skype/Zoom calls. I’ve always been active on Twitter, which I’ve considered my “office water cooler” for years; I’ve actually become closer to Twitter friends. I’ve participated in more than a few Zoom gatherings in the past few months where I’m able to socialize with people from all over the world. (Well, mostly the US, Canada, and UK.)

For personal contact, I still meet up with folks who are following the same precautions I am — mostly neighbors and a few smart friends. Before cherry season started, we met up once in a while for an afternoon glass of wine. Alcohol is out of the question for me until August, so our meetups have been less structured, but that’s okay. Because of the limited number of folks in my neighborhood and the simple fact that we all have the same sort of work-at-home lifestyle, I don’t feel worried when I’m visiting any of them. We’re not dumb and we’re all doing our best to avoid infection.

Finances

Sunset Out Front
My pups go out for a walk on the front lawn before bed. We’ve been having some awesome sunsets lately.

Virus lockdowns haven’t affected me nearly as much as many other people. Although it has pretty much dried up two of my revenue streams — AirBnB management and jewelry sales — my primary source of income — drying cherry trees with my helicopter after it rains — has not been affected at all. So while I’ll take a revenue hit this year, it won’t be much of a burden.

I realize that I’m extremely fortunate to be in this situation, but I also know that it’s not just “luck” that put me here. After 30+ years being self-employed, I learned the importance of multiple revenue streams. I don’t think a year has gone by when all my income came from just one source. The benefit is that if one or two revenue streams dry up, I still have money coming in from other places and work I do. This year, I added a website client for the first time in at least 10 years; it isn’t much money overall, but it’s a nice replacement for my AirBnB revenue stream.

I’m also well insulated against financial hardship because I carry very little debt. My home is paid for; the loan on my truck will be paid off within the next year. (I’m actually tripling payments on it now with the goal of having it paid up by December.) I have a small loan on the land I live on and am doubling payments on that to get that paid off quickly, too. That’s it. I have no credit card debt or any other debt.

One thing I learned early in life — which was reinforced during my relationship with a man who just didn’t “get it” — is that when you have a lot of debt, you become a slave to it. How can you take the risk of starting a new job or career or business when you need the income from the job you have to keep your head above water? When you need every paycheck to pay bills or maintain a certain (possibly extravagant) lifestyle, how can you break free if you want to? The answer is, you can’t. And if that job evaporates, you’re pretty much sunk, possibly stuck with taking a less desirable job with a smaller paycheck that does little to relieve the stress of all those bills. I saw it happen over and over in the last years of my marriage.

I think a lot of folks are going through that now and I feel bad for them. Some honestly can’t help it because of personal or family circumstances that they really can’t control. But I’m equally sure that others could have softened the blow by staying out of the deep debt trap. The key is living a life that’s well within your means and saving what you don’t need to spend. Saving for a rainy day make sense when the rain comes.

Sorry to lecture but this is something that I’ve always felt strongly about. My wasband’s inability to live within his means trapped him in a series of jobs he didn’t really like, making him a bitter old man who blamed me for his unhappiness later in life. I have to wonder how many relationships in this country are similarly torn apart by a simple lack of financial wisdom on the part of one or both partners.

Killing Time

Drying Cherries
I’ve been out drying cherries a few times since my season started in late May. You can watch the video for this flight here.

Overall, my life in the Coronavirus Age isn’t very different from what it was before that. After all, every summer is pretty much the same: organize cherry drying contracts, get together a team of pilots, and hang around at or near my home, on call during daylight hours for about two and a half months, waiting for calls after it rains. I’ve got a total of four guys working with me this year, all with R44s. It’s a good team of professional pilots and, so far, my clients have been very happy with our service.

Veggies
Here’s some of June’s harvest. I got an early start on my garden and have been eating food I’ve grown since the beginning of the month.

Since I’m stuck at home, I spend a lot of time on home projects. This year, my garden is bigger and better than ever, finally set up with eleven neatly placed plastic cherry bins as raised planter beds. I replaced the border around the gravel part of my gravel parking apron. I planted more trees and put them on irrigation. I moved my bee yard closer to my house, caught three bee swarms, and put two more bee packages into new homes. I’m finally getting around to finishing the stairwell in my entry area. I replaced my Wink home automation hub with a SmartThings hub. I sold a bunch of beekeeping equipment I didn’t need anymore. I’ve done my duty as a weed spray person for the association and used my DR mower to help a neighbor get rid of weeds along her 1/3 mile long driveway.

Bighorn Sheep
Being home all the time makes it tough to miss when the local bighorn sheep come down off the cliffs and graze in my yard. I took this photo yesterday from my deck.

I’m also making videos for the FlyingMAir YouTube channel. Cherry drying videos, tour videos, 360° videos, cross country flight videos. Videos of me moving the helicopter from the airport to my landing zone or from my landing zone to an orchard. YouTube has become a small revenue stream for me, but it’s unforgiving: disappoint your audience and you’ll lose them. It’s a lot of work.

Cherry season will end in the middle of August. Unless things get dire, I’ll take my usual week-long trip to celebrate the end of the season. This year, I think I’ll camp with my pups in my truck camper with my little boat at Banks Lake. I might ask a friend of mine to join me with his dog.

I do have some dates scheduled to sell my jewelry at Leavenworth’s Village Art in the Park, which has started up with a lot of restrictions. I think I have four weekends scheduled between the middle of August until the middle of October. We’ll see if they actually happen.

I’ve also booked a trip to Alaska in September, but as the virus situation worsens, I’m having second thoughts. I might cancel or at least put it off until next year.

I am having serious concerns about my winter travels. I normally go south to Arizona, where I camp with friends and travel around a bit, soaking up sun when there’s very little at home. But Arizona — with its flag-waving Fox News viewers — is apparently in denial about the virus and has become a hot spot. I only have one art show scheduled there so far — and I haven’t paid for my booth yet — so it’s easy enough for me to skip it this year. But where would I go? With the helicopter going in for overhaul this winter, I’m on a bit of a budget. Camping out in the desert would be cheap and safe, but I honestly don’t think I could do it for three months straight. I’ll take a wait-and-see approach.

Another Awesome Sunset
Did I mention the awesome sunsets we’ve been having lately? Look closely and you’ll see four of the helicopters on this year’s team of pilots.

Life Goes On

Like most of Americans — hell, most of people all over the world — I’m looking forward to a day when an effective vaccine and treatment is widely available. I wish my fellow Americans would stop whining and complaining and start taking the virus seriously. Wear a mask. Stay out of large gatherings. Wash your hands and your clothes after being exposed to others. Eventually, we’ll lick this thing and life will go back to normal. We all have to do our part.

And that’s basically it. My life hasn’t changed substantially since I normally work at/from home and have a solitary lifestyle. I’m not taking a serious financial hit. I’m one of the “lucky” ones, I guess.

But we all know that we make our own luck.