Letters to 2020

The year is coming to an end. It has been challenging, to say the least. The pandemic has been like no other in our time. It has affected many lives, directly or indirectly. It has taken loved ones from some families; it has caused others fear, depression, and financial hardship. 2020 has given all of us a lot to think about.

Chris Palmore is creating an anthology of letters to 2020.

Would you like to contribute to this anthology and share your reflections on and letters to 2020?

If so, please submit your letters by January 10^th to Chris via this link:

https://www.gratitudespace.com/lettersto2020/

A Wonderful Christmas Tradition

A Christmas tradition in Iceland is exchanging books on Christmas Eve. People then spend the rest of the night reading them in bed. It's called Jolabokaflod, or Yule Book Flood, because book publishers flood the market with new titles between September and November. Newly published books are listed and the list is then distributed to all households for free so that people can prepare for this wonderful holiday.

The Longest Night

Yalda, also called shab-e-chelle, is the annual observance of the triumph of light over darkness. This festivity happens on the last night of autumn, or the winter solstice (December 20 or 21). Iranians celebrate putting the longest night of the year behind them and anticipating more sunlight as the days get longer. On this joyful night, families and friends get together to drink, eat nuts, watermelons, and pomegranates, and read poems by Hafez, a fourteenth-century Persian poet who wrote about love, wine, and ecstasy.

Happy Yalda!

Dear Gratitude: An Anthology

Dear Gratitude is a collection of magnificent letters and essays written by people with various perspectives on gratitude. This anthology was created by Chris Palmore, who, on December 30^th, 2013, chose to celebrate his birthday by writing his mom a message of appreciation and posting it on her Facebook wall, not knowing the events that followed would set him on a journey of gratitude.

Chris traveled to different states and countries looking for people who were willing to share what they were grateful for. He interviewed many, young and old, rich and poor, sick and healthy, male and female, from all walks of life and posted the videos of these interviews on his website and on different social media platforms. He met a lot of interesting people in the process, and the more he got involved in his quest for gratitude stories, the more determined he became to share these experiences with others.

In 2020, Chris wrote about how his journey began and decided to construct an anthology of gratitude in which others could share their stories and experiences. He successfully achieved this, and Dear Gratitude became available on Kindle just in time for Thanksgiving, allowing readers to get a different view on gratitude and discover that happiness is really a state of mind and a matter of perspective.

Open Letter

I wasn't planning on writing on my blog today, but something happened: I saw a tweet that got me started. This is the tweet:

I found it sad that someone who calls himself a "reader" can't tell the difference between these two events. To anyone reading my post, claiming to be a "reader" and struggling with recognizing the differences between these two events, like the author of the tweet, may I suggest reading How to Read a Book by Mortimer J. Adler?

The rest of this post is an open letter to the author of this tweet, who later in his thread insults people whose views don't agree with his:

A guy's innocent joke about answering a question upset you so much you blocked him, but another can't feel rage when their religion is “not so innocently” attacked? What happened to the freedom of expression you were defending with your tweet?

Feel free to block me, or better yet call me the names a “real man” calls a woman when she points out his nonsense.

What happened to the professor is a tragedy. It's sick. It should have never happened. Provoking people by ridiculing their belief system isn't “teaching,” though. If it is, please feel free to answer the following questions: What exactly did he teach? Is every individual's opinion on things now considered history?

There is a reason politics and religion are never to be discussed in a classroom. History, and religion, can be taught with respect. Even a professor's personal opinion can be expressed without disrespect.

I've taught for over thirty years. My students have asked me so many times about my religious beliefs in general. They've also asked me specifically if I was a Buddhist, a Muslim, a Christian, or if I even believed in God. I've always answered truthfully and respectfully.

My students are well familiar with my sense of humor, and there are jokes to be made about every single religion, cult, and belief. But just because I have a “right” to express myself doesn't mean I should use it in such a negative way.

And what happened to the rights of the person who was recently jailed for saying that the professor “deserved” what he got? Did that person not have said freedom of expression?

It's not easy to be fair, is it? When people view things from the perspective that only serves them, they will think, say, and do stupid things -- yes, “stupid” as in the title of your book.

Professors and teachers have power in a classroom, and with power comes responsibility. There is so much that can be taught in a classroom. It's unfortunate that some choose their freedom of expression and their power to divide people in one way or another.

Did that particular professor deserve what happened to him? Absolutely not! Should the murderer be punished? Absolutely! But making this about Muslims is just as ignorant as killing someone for making fun of a religion. Doing just that serves a group of people right now, though, and there are always sheep that follow, so...

About the question initially tweeted... 

How come?

Because the professor was killed by a citizen and Floyd was killed by someone who is supposed to “protect” and “serve.” And even though “to protect and to serve” is used as a phrase without a subject or object, its implied or inferred object definitely isn't the police's or deputies' “own asses” but “the people.”

Everything that happened after the murder of Floyd happened because people finally decided to do something about the corruption of police and sheriff deputies.

In January 2016, a bunch of corrupt sheriff deputies attacked me in my own place of residence, planted fabricated evidence, and accused me of a crime I hadn't committed. Why? Because I'd spoken up when I'd witnessed their corruption and their criminal activity months before. They used an opportunity to publicly discredit me to protect their own asses. I was arrested... and released a few days later because the handwriting in the planted correspondence was analyzed, and, big surprise, it didn't match mine.

At the time, no one wanted to “get involved”... Why?

Those who knew me personally knew I would never have done what they accused me of, but they were afraid to do anything about it because those deputies were “dangerous” and they were right, and I never blamed them. Those who didn't know me “chose” to believe the lies they heard and read because it went in the same direction as their beliefs. It provided the right justification for their need to be right about their unfounded fears and beliefs. And then there were those who knew me and were secretly happy because it satisfied some of their own personal insecurities: inferiority complex, jealousy, etc.

The same people who didn't “get involved” then are now fighting for the values they now think are being attacked. Are they hypocrites? Maybe... From my perspective? Probably. That group of criminals who attacked me in my home and threatened to kill my three dogs if I took action against them and tried to eliminate me afterwards (by the way, it's called attempted murder in legal terms) got away with their crimes... but, at least, people are doing something about the existing corruption now... years later, in another state.

People simply woke up (FINALLY!) and decided something needed to be done about this corruption. The fact that people all over the world stood with this is because everyone understands how corruption works, meaning the problem is global.

You mentioned someone's lack of empathy in your tweet thread. Let's discuss that for a minute... because you're absolutely right: Empathy is a significant aspect of humanity. Have you watched the video of the murder committed by the a-holes in uniform? And can you honestly say you found empathy in that professor's caricature?

That professor is not forgotten. It's just that deep down most people understand empathy, and they can see where it's lacking. The person who committed that crime was a murderer and is being punished for his crime. Also, everyone knows how they might react when provoked. Some people destroy other people verbally; some do it physically. Both actions are wrong and should be considered crimes.

This global movement is about righting a wrong that has been going on forever. The catalyst may have been a criminal. Nobody's claiming Floyd was a saint. The focus is not on Floyd. It's on the people wearing a uniform; it's about legalized murder; it's about the ongoing murders without consequences.

To (you and) the idiots who go around destroying and murdering people who don't agree with their views, religions, and ideologies, whether they are individuals or governments, I say:

If you haven't yet understood that we are all connected, you haven't understood your own religion. At the very least, we are all connected by one golden rule, the one anyone with half a brain should have gotten by now, the one all religions have in common, the one that tells you not to do to anyone what you don't want done to you.

And now that I've upset a bunch of people, I'll go do what I was planning to do with my day: continue my proofreading assignment. Thank you for reading.

Understanding Why

I've always been drawn to languages. I like words and look at them linguistically, always trying to figure out where they came from and how they were formed. I also find the grammar of languages fascinating, and I've always excelled at explaining grammar.

I've taught English as a Foreign Language (EFL) and English as a Second Language (ESL) for over thirty years in different countries and a variety of institutions, from private language schools to technical schools to colleges to universities.

I love teaching grammar. I enjoy being present for my students' aha moments, watching the expression on their faces as they finally understand some linguistic feature that has always been a challenge to them. 

One of my favorite parts of teaching grammar is listening to or reading my students' mistakes. I like it when they make mistakes because it indicates their first step in learning something new. I always jot down my students' mistakes for two reasons:

First, mistakes constitute learning opportunities for students. I correct their mistake and make sure they understand why it's wrong and how they can say or write what they intended to without a mistake.

Second, I'm interested in the reason for the mistake. The “why” for the specific wrong usage of that particular feature is what I seek.

Understanding the why doesn't only help that one student. It helps me as a teacher, too: I learn the source of the mistake, which I often trace back to their first language; I teach that lesson better the next time, making sure to mention all the ways that feature is not used; I know what kind of confusion and mistakes to expect from students.

For instance, when I noticed many of my Chinese students were making the same kind of mistake in using verbs, especially the verb “to be,” I took an introduction to Chinese course at my local college, one of the colleges where I also taught, and learned that the Chinese don't have the verb “to be.” When they want to say “I am fine,” for example, in Chinese, they say “I fine.” The verb “to be” is not used in a language they've been practicing all their life, and it's not easy to break that habit. Understanding this will help me (1) be more tolerant of my students' repetitive mistakes, (2) explain the differences between Chinese, their first language, and English, the language they are trying to learn, (3) teach my Chinese students that when they want to express that “they fine” in English, they need to make sure to include the verb “to be” in its conjugated form, paying attention to the verb tense and the subject-verb agreement. The why behind the mistakes has always been one of the most attractive aspects of teaching.

Learning and understanding the why has made me not only a better teacher but also a better person. I am more patient and less judgmental; I accept differences more easily; I'm open to other perspectives; I learn different ways to do the same thing, get to compare them, and choose the best method for me. Overall, a lot of good comes from understanding the why behind differences.

“Peace cannot be achieved through violence; it can only be attained through understanding.”
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Pervert

Last week, a neighbor of mine, Kenny, a man in his seventies, asked me if he could take my picture. I said no. He insisted he wanted to send it to his sister because he'd mentioned me to her. I said no again. I specifically said, "I don't like having my picture taken."

Today, I was standing by my other neighbor's house, asking if he too was having problems with his internet connection, and Kenny was there. They were sitting on the porch talking. I heard a sound and noticed he had his phone lifted high toward me. He had just taken my picture with his phone. 

I asked him, "Kenny, did you just take my picture?" He replied, "I took a picture of my car, and you were standing in front of it."

I told him I didn't appreciate it. He shouted, "Fine!" My neighbor whose place it was yelled, "Why are you being a bitch about it?"

So... in this situation, I'm a bitch, and he is not a pervert. Do these people not understand the word "no"?

I walked away, feeling violated and angry, leaving two old perverts behind me as they continued to chat on the porch under their Trump 2020 flag.

My Dream Review

I only write reviews for books I really enjoy reading. I don't write negative reviews for many reasons: First, I figure I've already wasted my time reading the book, so why waste more time writing a review for it. Second, I don't see the need to put any negative energy out there. Third, there are a lot of books I enjoy that others don't, so if I don't like a book, it doesn't mean it's a bad book. Fourth, the thing that annoys me more than anything when reading a book is finding too many mistakes in it, in which case I often write to the author and offer to edit it, if, and only if, I find it worthy of being read. Fifth, maybe the author's work has improved since writing that particular book, or maybe I picked that author's worst work, and there is no need to humiliate or badmouth them at the time I've gotten to reading their book.

A while back, I read a nonfiction book that I found... what's the word for it... HORRIBLE. By the time I finished it, I was angry, not just at the author for putting together all that crap, but also with myself for continuing to read it when I sensed I shouldn't waste my time around page 80. I was hoping the good stuff would come later, I suppose. I don't know. Anyway, seven hundred pages later, I hadn't learned anything except a few acronyms. For a minute, I even thought the author should be sued for wasting people's time. I didn't write a bad review, but I looked at the reviews, only after the fact, and discovered thousands of positive reviews. I was shocked.

I still don't know exactly how reviews work, and I know some people get paid to write reviews, which I find immoral, but I couldn't understand how thousands of people may have liked this book. Had they read it? Had they actually learned something from it? I decided to get over it, so I took a deep breath and went to my bookcase to take a book I knew wouldn't disappoint just to cheer up. I have a few go-to books for times like this. This time, I chose The Awful Truth about the Sushing Prize by Marco Ocram. Soon I forgot all about the bad experience with the nonfiction, or so I thought.

This happened a couple of months ago. Fast forward to last night when thunder scared my pups and I couldn't get much sleep. During the short time I did sleep after the thunder was over, I dreamed that I was in a bookshop and I was venting about the seven-hundred-page nonfiction to a fellow book lover looking at some nonfiction books. I gave a full review for that book, stating, in great detail, everything that was wrong with it. In my dream, I was speaking fast and angrily. When I woke up, my first thought was, This is new. It was my first “dream” review. I guess there is a first time for everything. At least, I got it out of my system, hopefully for good. I'm grateful I hadn't paid for that book. I had borrowed it online, through Overdrive, from the library.

This experience taught me that book reviews don't really mean anything. I know most people decide what to read based on reviews. I don't. I like friends' recommendations, and that is friends whom I know well and who know me well. I also take recommendations from people whose intellect I admire. For nonfiction, I also often look at the table of contents, and if the topic is something I'm interested in, I read it, hoping to learn something.

What still bothers me is that book reviews affect book sales. I can't help but wonder what happens to new writers who are not known and don't get many reviews. Whether they publish their book themselves or go the traditional way, they face many more challenges than authors who are already famous, at least in terms of sales.

I remember a story I once read in a French magazine, a few decades ago, about a few university students who had typed a certain well-known author's book word for word, sent the "manuscript" to many publishers, and gotten rejection after rejection from every single publisher. Meanwhile, the actual book was selling like hotcakes in stores all over the world. Those students proved an important point. Back then, every writer had only the traditional publishing option. Nowadays, thankfully, writers have the choice to publish their work through Amazon. As readers and writers, we have an obligation to write reviews, at the very least for good books.

Writers' Resources

Here are two useful resources for writers:

1- The Dictionary of American Regional English (DARE)

http://daredictionary.com

"Different words may be used to designate the same thing depending on the region. It’s important to consider this and use the right word to make the writing authentic."

(Nika Paradis - Medium)

2 - The Compleat Lexical Tutor

www.lextutor.ca

"Looking up how to use a word in a sentence isn’t as easy as finding how it’s spelled." 

(Nika Paradis - Medium)

Friendly Haters

This morning, I was busy pouring concrete to make a slab when a couple in their seventies, driving in a tiny car resembling a golf cart, stopped in front of the construction site. They waved, and I waved back; then I went back to mixing water with cement. I heard the woman yelling something over the sound of the mixer. I looked up. She was looking at me and, even though I wasn't wearing my glasses, I could tell her lips were moving. I turned off the mixer and walked a few feet closer to the road. I didn't want to get too close to them because I wasn't wearing a mask and neither were they. From a distance, I shouted, “Excuse me. I couldn't hear you. How can I help you?” She smiled and pointed at my work in progress, “The new cabin is coming along nicely.” I nodded, “The progress is slow, but I'll get there... eventually.”

Thinking about the concrete in the bucket that was getting harder by the second, I wanted to get back to work, but I didn't want to be rude, so I stood there and waited for them to leave. Only they didn't. The woman said, “We saw you working on it last summer. We're just visiting. We have a place down the road. We're wondering whether we should move here permanently and sell our other place in the city.” I smiled, “Well... it's quiet here, so that might be a good idea given the pandemic.” The woman seemed to like that, “Yeah, at our other place, we have a lot of minorities around us, you know, and they're all on welfare. These minorities bring us all kinds of diseases. It's terrible. And they don't wanna work because they get more money from welfare than they would make working. We don't even wanna go back to our other house. The good thing about here is there are no minorities.” By then, I'd heard enough, more than enough for a Monday morning, so I smiled, “Enjoy your day. I have to get back to work.” The woman started to say something else, but the man, who was in the driver's seat and had been quiet until that moment, interrupted her, “We were just being friendly.” Then they drove away.

An Opportunity

Dear Writers,

I have been hiding out in my cave for the last few weeks. During this time, I did some reading, some writing, some editing, some construction work, and...

I met Chris Palmore, a friend of a friend of mine, who has been working on inspiring others for years,  interviewing people, making videos and podcasts, and writing about gratitude. Now, Chris is working on making an anthology. His anthology is theme specific: It's all essays and letters about gratitude.

As you know, anthologies provide excellent opportunities for readers and writers to connect. I asked Chris if I could share his link with my friends in the #WritingCommunity. I thought it would help anyone who would like to contribute and get published and/or anyone who would be interested in being a part of this wonderful project. He agreed and said he'd be grateful.

Chris's goal is to collect essays / letters of gratitude in these eight categories:

1. a lesson learned and the person who taught you the lesson

2. a thing/object you're grateful for and the story behind it

3. something that was a struggle before and that you are grateful for now thanks to how you reacted to the struggle based on your perception, perspective, and choice

4. letter to a person who has died

5. things that others take for granted that you now have and are grateful for

6. things that you've been taking for granted that you've now become grateful for

7. pets you're grateful for

8. someone from your past you're grateful for and haven't expressed gratitude to

If you would like to participate, please know that...

- the deadline for submission is September 15, 2020

- you can use a pen name instead of your name

- a letter and/or essay must be between 100 words and 1,000 words.

- you can submit as many essays and letters as you want

- you can submit essays or letters in as many categories as you want

- it's free - you don't pay, and you won't be paid if/when your letter(s) and/or essay(s) get published

- you will be notified whether or not your letter and/or essay was selected by October 15, 2020

- your submission must be original and unpublished

- you will give your permission for your essay and/or letter to be published

Click on the link below, provide the contact information, and submit your work.
https://www.gratitudespace.com/anthology/

Book Review

In The Girl in the Scrapbook, by Carolyn Ruffles, a tragic accident in Emily's life and the unexpected reappearance of her childhood imaginary friend put her on a quest to trace her genealogy and discover her true identity. This engaging story is that of three women – Emily, Jennifer, and Norah – whose lives are mysteriously entangled. 

The well-developed characters, the themes of mystery, romance, and death, the emotional journey, the beautiful prose, and the skillful story-telling made this novel a delightful read. Although the story was pleasant from the beginning, it really picked up later to the point that I couldn't put it down. I truly enjoyed The Girl in the Scrapbook and highly recommend it.

History & Life Lessons

We traveled a lot when I was a kid. My dad loved to see new places. We lived in France, and on weekends, we would visit different cities in Europe. We would stand in front of some monument, and he would start telling me the story of how that monument came to be. Only I think he forgot that I was just a kid. He would use words I didn't quite understand and his stories had too many characters. My eight-year-old brain couldn't process all the information, and none of it made sense to me. All he really accomplished with his history lessons was make me feel history was complicated and alien. I grew up detesting history and everything related to it.

For the longest time, history was my least favorite subject in school, and I avoided history books – and anything that involved history in any way – at all cost. Then I went to university when I was in my late teens and studied French literature. You can't really study literature without knowing some history, so I forced myself to read the history books I despised and even managed to get good grades, but I still secretly disliked history.

About a decade ago, I found the complete set of The Story of Civilization by Will Durant at a library bookstore where used books are sold at affordable prices. I decided to get the books and give them a try. I ended up reading all of them. If you're not familiar with the series, it's over ten thousand pages.

Since I joined the writing community in March 2019, I've met people who write different genres. I noticed I was still staying away from history, and not just nonfiction. Even historical fiction was one of my least favorite genres. As I interacted with various writers, I met Marian L Thorpe, someone whose tweets I enjoy reading and who writes historical fiction, a genre I would normally avoid. However, a short while ago, because I admire her, I read a sample of one of her books, Oraiáphon, and found myself hooked. My interest in historical fiction surprised me. I'd always stayed away from such books.

Around the same time, I was reading a book by Eckhart Tolle, and I decided to trace back one of his references to its origin. I looked up the book and tried to find it in the library catalog, hoping to borrow it. The only resource my search got me was a DVD titled Life Lessons from the Great Books. When I picked it up at the library (I'm taking the opportunity here to thank the librarians who tirelessly work behind the scenes to provide this huge service even though the libraries are officially closed and only “curbside pickup” is available.), I noticed it's a collection of six DVDs, each containing six lectures by the late Professor J. Rufus Fears from University of Oklahoma. If you don't know him, google him. You'll find he has lots of talks on YouTube. He's a historian and an excellent storyteller. I watched all thirty-six of his lectures and then watched them all again, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

Sometimes our beliefs and opinions are based on how things were initially presented to us. It doesn't hurt us to keep an open mind and give ourselves the opportunity to look at things again and maybe re-evaluate them from a different perspective. I know for a fact that if I had stayed stubborn in my opinion of history and hadn't kept an open mind, I would have never read The Story of Civilization or the sample of that historical fiction and I would have turned that DVD off as soon as I realized it would be lectures on history. I'm glad I got over my initial beliefs. In the end, I'm the one who benefits from knowing everything I gave myself permission to learn.

#WritingCommunity

I haven't been active on Twitter since May 10. The last five weeks have gone by very quickly as I've spent them mostly proofreading, doing construction, reading, writing, and rewriting. 

The first round of editing of Reflections has just been completed. I'm not sure how many more rewrites it will need, but I do know it still needs a lot of work. It's starting to look like a book, though, and that keeps me motivated.

I have a couple of side WIPs going on as well. My progress is slow, but I keep telling myself every word I write is still progress. 

Many books have taken me to various parts of the world over the last few months even though I never left my cabin except to buy groceries, which I still do with my mask on. Many of the books I've been reading were written by my friends in the #WritingCommunity. I've enjoyed reading them and I plan to write reviews for them; I just haven't had time to do it yet.

I miss all of my writer friends.

The New Studio Project

I know I haven't posted any book reviews lately. I've read a few books and will post reviews soon. I'm a little behind because I've been busy working on the new cabin / studio the last few weeks.

https://newstudioproject.blogspot.com/?m=1

Keep Going

It's finally the last day of April. At the end of last month, I was feeling very sick. I couldn't breathe, my throat was sore, I had chills, my chest hurt, my muscles were sore, and I felt exhausted every moment. I didn't know if I had the flu, bronchitis, pneumonia, or Covid-19. I just knew I didn't feel like doing anything. Before I got sick, I had plans for the next few months; I had goals, and I had set deadlines for myself to reach those goals. I wanted to edit that first draft I had written. I wanted to move forward with my construction project. I was too tired to do anything, though. I had no energy, and I had no hope for the future, so my brain kept telling me there was no point.

I was getting more and more depressed. I was constantly worrying about my dogs, wondering what would happen to them if I died. My dogs have never been separated from each other since they were born a decade ago, and I didn't know anyone who would want to take three dogs, no matter how cute, loving, or obedient they are. I thought about the dogs so much I couldn't think about anything else, and I couldn't function at all.

Someone had tweeted something about April NaNoWriMo on the last day of March, and I thought it would be a good idea for me to get on the site, register, set a goal, and force myself to reach that goal. So I did just that. I decided I would write fifty thousand words by the end of April; that would mean finishing the rewriting of my memoir, or so I thought at the time. I actually thought by the end of this month, I would have completed my second draft. So on April 1^st, I started writing, and every day, I tried to rewrite my work in progress, “tried” being the key word. Reaching the daily word count, my daily goal, was a challenge because I couldn't focus on my memoir. I ended up writing about everything else: how I felt, the dogs, lies people told, how people reacted to social distancing, life in the woods, abuse, my parents, corruption, my former students, my problems, my disease. I wrote about anything that would fill the page and make me reach my daily goal of written words.

On April 28^th, I reached my big goal with two days to spare. I looked back at my writing and realized this April NaNoWriMo didn't help me with the rewriting of my memoir. However, it gave me something to focus on other than the dogs' future as I imagined it, it started two other potential books, it kept me going. Today, on April 30^th, I still don't feel well and I still don't have a solution for my dogs, but I didn't waste the whole month worrying; I stayed active, I forced myself to function.

Today, I mowed the lawn, I arranged to have the plumbing of the new cabin completed, and I ordered blocks to start working on the walls. I don't know how far I'll get, but I'll keep moving forward.

End of the Tunnel

The last time I posted an update on my unknown respiratory problem was eight days ago. My chest was burning from inside as if I had swallowed fire. That lasted three days. I started feeling a little better after that, but I wasn't sure if my improved condition would last, so I didn't post anything. I'd felt better for a couple of days in the past, but things had gotten worse again. I haven't had any chest pain for six days. I do experience a little tightness from time to time when I try to take a deep breath, but it doesn't feel nearly as scary as it did the first couple weeks. I still have a sore throat and I do feel a little congestion, but that's all.

During the last three weeks, I never had any fever, never lost my sense of smell or taste, and never had blue lips. I had all the other symptoms of Covid-19, but it wasn't the symptoms that scared me; it was my inability to breathe, to inhale. Thankfully, that's over. When I feel a little tightness in my chest or shortness of breath now, all I have to do is step outside, and it goes away after a few seconds.

I never got tested, so I don't know what I had, or have. I never saw a doctor. I never took any medicine, except for low-dose aspirin, which I have been regularly taking the last few years.

I only followed, religiously, the fifteen home remedies for bronchitis, which I found online:

1. lemon (eat fresh with its skin)

2. ginger and garlic (add to food & ginger tea)

3. eucalyptus oil (steam/inhale)

4. mustard

5. chicken soup (I had lentil soup instead)

6. raw honey

7. salt water (gargle)

8. steam diffusing

9. menthol rub

10. garlic concoction (hot water, raw garlic, ginger, honey, chili pepper)

11. rest

12. warm bath (I took hot showers instead)

13. analgesics (menthol rub & low-dose aspirin)

14. water

15. sun

I'm not back to normal, whatever normal was. I still cough and sometimes even wheeze, and my throat still hurts. However, I am, and have been for the last few days, able to function, and I believe being out in the sun, which has sadly disappeared since yesterday, helped me a great deal.

I feel I'm getting better. If that changes, I'll post an update.

Take care and stay safe.

Cyberstalking

Noosha the Dragon

Here's an update for those who have been following my unknown disease.

It's day fifteen since my cough and shortness of breath started, and I still don't have a fever. My chest still hurts. I still cough a lot and wheeze. I still experience shortness of breath. I had felt nausea from day one, but I hadn't actually thrown up until yesterday. In the last five days/nights, I haven't had the chills I was experiencing the first ten nights. Other than the absence of chills, everything is worse than it was.

Since last Saturday, in addition to starting my days with a smoothie as usual, I've been following the fifteen at-home remedies for bronchitis I found online to support my lungs: chewing raw garlic and ginger, eating one lemon a day with its skin, drinking hot water with honey, lemon, garlic, ginger, and pepper in it, applying menthol rub on my throat and chest (and back – thank you, Medea, for this tip), inhaling eucalyptus oil mixed with hot water, drinking lots of water, and having soup at least once a day.

A couple days into this treatment, I felt a little better, and I thought I was beating whatever this is. I was doing relatively well all day Tuesday and even part of Wednesday, but it got bad again on Wednesday. My shortness of breath returned and I started gasping for air again. Starting yesterday, things have changed a little, unfortunately, not for the better.

Yesterday, Thursday, was the first day I threw up. Also, starting last night, the back of my throat has been feeling uncomfortably hot. My whole chest feels hot from inside. I've been coughing and wheezing non-stop today. I still don't have a fever yet even though I feel I'm burning. I can still smell and taste. I do not have blue lips. My throat is sore, but it's not the kind of sore throat I would get if I had a cold; it's sore from coughing, or, at least, that's what I think. My chest hurts and burns a lot. Breathing is hard both through the mouth and the nose. I feel exhausted even though I take naps all the time.

When I started feeling better on Tuesday, I thought I would wait a few days to make sure everything was going well and write a more positive blog post. That didn't happen, though, and it was time for an update, so I wrote this. I'll keep documenting this as much as I can.

Take care and stay safe.

Covid-19: Beyond Washing Hands

Yesterday, I ran out of fruits and vegetables. I was planning on ordering them online and having them delivered, but there is no such service around here for perishable items, so I put my armor on and went to the store very early in the morning, when most people were still sleeping. The store shelves didn't look as pitiful as they had the last two weeks. As I was thinking about getting a loaf of freshly baked bread the gentleman was placing on the shelf, I heard a loud sneeze and looked in that direction. The lady who worked in the deli had sneezed all over the meats she was arranging for the display. She wasn't wearing a mask or gloves. I watched as she wiped her mouth and nose with her hand and continued to work. I stood there disgusted by what I had just witnessed and started rethinking the items I had put in my cart. It's needless to say I immediately lost my desire for freshly baked bread. I put back a few items which I thought had been packaged in the store. Clearly, the store policies didn't require their workers who have contact with the food to wear masks or gloves.

Then I saw two store employees were standing about two feet apart in the vegetable section chatting. They were standing right by the broccoli I was about to take. The broccoli wasn't covered. I suddenly decided I didn't need fresh vegetables. I ended up buying only frozen vegetables. It doesn't mean those are cleaner. I don't know how they were packed, but at least I hadn't personally seen them get sprayed by people.

How do we expect to get rid of Covid-19 if those who make and distribute food don't cooperate? They say wash your hands and don't touch your eyes, nose, and mouth. What about the food we put in our mouths? Where is that coming from? Who is touching it? Would it help to cook it, freeze it, heat it?

A few days ago, I saw my neighbor pass by. We waved. I was standing outside, leaning against my car, enjoying the sun, playing Word Chums on my phone. About half an hour later, he came back and stopped to say hi. He said he had bought a pizza but he hadn't stayed to eat it there. He wanted to eat it at home, where it was safer. How did he know the person who prepared the pizza wasn't sick? Generally, when I ask questions like that, people usually call me crazy or stupid or weird. It doesn't bother me that they call me names; it does, however, bother me that they're not willing to use their brain and think. I kept my mouth shut because I knew it would be pointless. He would go home and eat that pizza no matter what I said, so why ruin it for him? This was the same man who also asked me if I wanted a mask and, before I could answer, took out an unwrapped mask and a used tissue out of his pocket and offered me the mask with his bare hand that had just touched his steering wheel on which he had just sneezed.

We need to pay more attention and be more alert.

It's not just about washing hands.

Wipe everything you touch daily with bleach, and do it regularly.

Wash your glasses with warm water and soap, and don't forget the handles. You touch them more than you think you do.

Wipe your car keys.

Wipe your phones often, and not just the screen. Don't forget the charger.

Wipe your home door knobs and handles, even those little ones on the kitchen drawers.

Wipe all the faucets. Wipe the flush handle on the toilet.

Wipe your remote controls.

Wipe the steering wheel, the gear stick, the window button, the door handle on the inside and outside of your car.

Now they're saying the virus can live on your shoes for five days. Take them off outside if you can. If you touch your shoes to tie them, put them on, or take them off, don't forget to immediately wash your hands.

If you're using a scarf as a mask, like I am, wash it after every use.

If you're wearing gloves that are not disposable, wash them or wipe them, depending on their material.

Don't forget your belt buckles.

Wash your hair pins and bands, and don't forget to wash your hair. We touch our hair a lot, and when we go out, it's exposed to pretty much everything. So basically, our hair is bringing home lots of things we don't want. If you go out, wash your hair and all your clothes as soon as you get back home.

Wash your hands before and after you use the bathroom, not just after.

If you take medicine, vitamins, and/or supplements, wipe the bottles.

When you use utensils, make sure you wash their handles thoroughly. The same goes for pots and pans. Don't forget your mugs and cups.

If you use spray bottles to clean and disinfect, wash the outside of the bottles regularly.

Wipe your books, notebooks, and clipboards you use daily with a cotton ball and vinegar.

Wipe your pens and pencils.

Wash or wipe any tools you use for your hobbies.

Wipe the keyboard on your laptop or desktop. Don't forget the mouse.

Speaking of mouse, if you have pets, like I do, wash or wipe their collars and leashes and the little fasteners on their harnesses. Wipe their coats with baby wipes regularly. Wipe their paws with baby wipes, too.

There's a lot more, but these are all I can think of now.

Chasing Hope

I can't find the motivation to get back to my editing, or rewriting. Sure I'm writing my blog posts, but that's different. That's to share my made-up treatment, which is really a case of trial and error, and to document my condition, in case it turns out to be the Corona Virus, hoping it can help someone.

I still don't know what it is. I don't have a fever... yet. I don't have blue lips... yet. I can still smell and taste. I have all the symptoms of the flu. So it may be the flu. However, I've had the flu before, and I've never had this much trouble breathing before. I'm doing everything I can at home to help my lungs. I'm treating this as bronchitis because I don't know what else to treat it as. I've been chewing raw garlic, constantly applying menthol rub, making and drinking weird concoctions made of ingredients that are supposed to support my lungs. I haven't given up.

I have hope that I will beat this. I've done nothing but work on restoring my breathing and things seem to be going better, but just when I think I'm making progress toward recovery, my chest pain returns stronger and I get depressed. Last night, I read that the former French minister died of Covid-19. He had been stabilized and was feeling better. Yeah... Just like I thought I was feeling better and now I can't breathe again. I rationalized he was much older than me. Then I read the first infant in the US died as well. They did say older people and children were most at risk. Then I read my friend's husband's cousin was only 36 and he just died. Age doesn't really matter.

I just don't have the motivation to work on Reflections, my work in progress. Every time I sit down in front of my laptop, I think What's the point? This still needs months of work. I should be boxing my books and sending them to my book-loving friends. There are no other valuable possessions here. Just books. More importantly, I should be finding someone who would take care of my dogs.

My dogs... What will happen to them? They are used to a certain lifestyle. I've spoiled them a little too much. They're used to getting massages every morning and to their faces being wiped with a paper towel sprayed with almond oil and rose water. I cook them fresh food twice a day. I play with them, maybe a little more than other dog owners do. I wipe their butts after they poop. They don't like their nails being clipped, so I prepare treats, clip one nail a day, and reward them for being such good babies. Until my lungs ran out of air eleven days ago, I used to constantly talk to them, just to see their cute little heads tilt. I used to sing silly made-up songs with their names just to watch them sit there and wag their tails. I carry them to bed one by one every night while whispering how much I love them in their ear, and I tuck them in.

My three dogs are my family, but they are also literally a family: a mommy, a daddy, and a baby. They've never been apart. I got the parents when they were only four weeks old and separated from their mother. Their baby was born in my kitchen and I cut his umbilical cord. They've always been together. If I take one of them out, the other two will sit by door until we get back. They've never been apart. Who would want all three of them together? What kind of life will they have? They may be my puppies, but they're not really puppies anymore; they're getting old. They need peace and love and care, and no one can take care of them like I can because no one knows them better than I do.

My thoughts get darker and darker, and I snap myself back to the present. Now. I'm still here. I hug them, look in their eyes, tell them I love them. Then I start coughing and wheezing again. I get up and repeat the process: lemon, eucalyptus, ginger, garlic... Hope.

Treatment - Taking Control

This is my third blog post describing my symptoms of whatever bug I have had for the last ten days. In my previous post, I left things on Thursday, around midday, so here's how I have been since then:

I tried to take it easy on Thursday. I didn't do much after I added the blog post titled “My Symptoms - Flu or Covid-19. I just lay in bed and read a little, watched a couple episodes of White Collar on DVD, and went out to take short walks in the woods with the dogs. I checked my temperature: no fever.

My breathing was uncomfortable Thursday night, but I was able to take short breaths. It wasn't like the other two times when I would try to inhale, but air wouldn't go in my lungs. I still had all the symptoms of the virus except for the fever and the blue lips. The chills got bad, so I add a couple of blankets even though the weather wasn't cold.

I woke up Friday morning the same way with a sore throat, headache, chest pain, nausea, and sore muscles. I had my smoothie, then my lentil soup with vegetables and lots of garlic. My chest pain and sore muscles became a lot worse as the day went by, and by late afternoon, I was coughing and wheezing and could hardly breathe.

I was supposed to have a tutoring session on Skype, but my student's mother told me she wanted to postpone class until Saturday, providing my student got better, and that both her children, teenagers, had a bad cough and had been to the doctor who had given them medicine for bronchitis. I usually sit in my car and drive a bit down the road to where the internet signal gets stronger for my Skype sessions. I was already in my car down the road when I had this conversation, but given my own condition, I didn't mind the cancellation at all.

I decided to just sit there in the sun and let the sun warm my chest and throat, hoping I would cough less as a result. I called my local pharmacy and asked them if they had inhalers, but they had none left. I spent a couple hours on Twitter, sitting in my car and waiting for the sun to do its magic. And it did. The chest pain was still there, but the coughing diminished and so did the wheezing. I finally went home, boiled some water, and drank it after it had cooled a bit. I also had an apple and a few slices of cheese to go with it before bed time. I read a few hours before I fell asleep with three pillows under my head and shoulders.

Saturday morning, my chest was tight and breathing was difficult, so I had to do something. I tried to find an inhaler online, but nothing was available. Everything was sold out. Still unable to get help from the hospital, I decided to focus on the part of this unknown disease that both bothered me and scared me the most: my breathing. I started looking online for ways to help my lungs. After a while, I decided that since there were no doctors available around me except those in the hospital, I had to take matters into my own hands and treat this as if it were bronchitis.

I googled “homeopathic” and “bronchitis” and came up with several results, the first of which had fifteen different ways to address the issue – Fifteen Practical Bronchitis Home Remedies. I read the whole thing and noticed I was already doing a few of these and I had almost everything I needed to do all the other things on the list. I didn't have chicken for the chicken soup, but I was already having lentil soup every day. My cabin doesn't have a bathtub for the recommended warm baths, but I could take hot showers instead, which I was already doing. I started going through all the steps, one by one.

I washed a lemon really well and cut it into small pieces with its skin. I ate half of the pieces and soaked the other half in some boiled water that had cooled down. I took a spoon of honey with a few sips of my lemon water. I put even more garlic in the soup I was preparing. I applied some vapo on my chest and throat. A short time later, I boiled some water and added a few drops of eucalyptus oil in it. Then I placed a towel over my head and inhaled the steam for a few minutes. I had a bowl of soup.

I had the tutoring appointment from the previous day, so I took care of that and had some more soup when I got back. My coughs were not as frequent as they had been, and that motivated me to continue following the steps. I made some ginger tea, took a hot shower, drank my tea, and went to bed to read. I fell asleep reading. About an hour later, right around midnight, I woke up shaking. I got up and took my temperature: 98.5°F - no fever. The chills got bad, and I ended up falling asleep with four blankets on top of me even though the temperature inside my cabin was already comfortable.

This morning, I woke up feeling less pain in my chest, but I'm still coughing a lot and wheezing. I still have a sore throat, too, but it's not as sore as it was. No nausea or sore muscles right now. I'll go through that whole ritual of home remedies for bronchitis again. I've already done the menthol rub, gargled salt water, and eaten half a lemon with its skin. I'm also drinking a glass of water every hour. Let's see if I can beat this thing.

I'll keep documenting everything and will give another update in two or three days. Please stay safe: don't get close to anyone, wash your hands very frequently, drink lots of water, and, if possible, add garlic, honey, and ginger to your diet.

My Symptoms - Flu or Covid-19?

I'm still here. I still have all the symptoms except the fever and blue lips. My throat is sore, I have shortness of breath, all my muscles ache, I get chills–without the fever, I have nausea, and the dry cough hasn't gone away. This could still just be a cold, but I don't know. They won't test me because I don't have a fever. They tell me to stay at home, but I need help breathing. My local hospital won't let me in because they don't know if I have the virus and they want to protect their existing patients. I understand their not wanting to expose their patients to someone who may or may not have the virus, but their logic is flawed. How can they be sure none of their existing patients already has the virus? Have all their current patients been there for at least fourteen days? It's scary to think how unprepared and ill-equipped hospitals are.

I've had the flu before, and many of its symptoms are similar to what I have now. I've also experienced shortness of breath before, but it was never associated with the flu. In general, I have trouble breathing when the air is stuffy, so I immediately open the windows and breathe comfortably. Now, when I can't breathe, I step outside, where I can feel the fresh air, but when I try to inhale, nothing goes in my lungs. I can't take in the fresh air through my mouth or my nose. This inability to breathe is the worst part of my experience. Everything else is just pain; I can tolerate it. The pressure I put on my chest to take in air makes my chest hurt badly, and it makes me feel like my heart will explode. I haven't been able to take more than a couple deep breaths each day for almost one week.

I've documented everything since my symptoms began to appear. In my last blog post, titled Social Distancing - My Experience, I shared my symptoms up to the morning of Tuesday, March 24^th. Monday night was the worst night in terms of breathing, or has been so far. On Tuesday, I felt relatively fine. All my symptoms were still there but much milder, and my temperature was still normal 98.5°F. I can now say with confidence that my appetite hasn't been the same the last few days. I usually eat well, and, by well, I mean both a good amount and relatively healthful food.

The last few days, I've been only able to take in a few spoonfuls of food. Any more, and I'll feel nauseated. So I eat a little bit every couple of hours. I still go on short walks several times a day, with and without the dogs. The weather has been nice, so the windows have been open all day, allowing the air to circulate in the cabin. I haven't talked to anyone; I've waved to the mail carrier and the neighbors from a distance.

Tuesday night, I slept well. My throat was a little sore and I had a mild headache, but no chills, no nausea, and, thankfully, I didn't experience any shortness of breath. When I got up Wednesday morning, all my muscles felt sore, though. I did some light stretches, and continued my nutritious, immune-boosting diet of fruits, soups, and herbal teas. I've been adding lots of garlic, turmeric, cumin, and black pepper to my soups, usually made with lentils, and lots of vegetables. Still no fever.

Wednesday night, I finished a proofreading job and felt too excited to sleep, so I spent some time on Twitter and went to bed late. I didn't feel sick, but my throat still felt a little sore and I coughed a lot. I don't like to take these cough drops. I usually get a different brand of cough drops, but the store was all out, so I got these ones. They taste good and are effective in soothing the throat, but they numb my throat a little, which makes inhaling even more challenging. I slept a few hours and woke up, this morning, to a sore throat, dry cough, nasal congestion, nausea, and a mild shortness of breath. All my muscles were aching, and still are right now. I gave myself a lymph massage. I'll try to take it easy the rest of the day and just focus on breathing. Maybe I'll get some reading done and walk a little. I still don't have a fever.

I'll keep documenting everything. I may have the flu, but if it is just the flu, and I truly hope it is, I can honestly say I've never had a flu this severe in my whole life.

Social Distancing - My Experience

I'm the most isolated person I know. I'm an introvert, so while most people are having a hard time staying at home in an effort to socially distance themselves and avoid the virus, I'm just doing what I've always done, staying in and doing my work, teaching online and proofreading, and enjoying my hobbies: reading, writing, watching movies, cooking, eating, playing with the dogs, and taking naps.

I generally go out only once a week to buy groceries and trade materials at the library. I've been doing that for almost two years now, since I started living in the woods. Nothing has really changed for me. Now, I'm more careful about keeping my distance when I have the occasional chat with a neighbor or the mailman, and I don't really talk to anyone else. The library is closed, so I don't even chat with the librarian. The only people I spend time with are my students, and that's through Skype.

For the introvert in me, living in the woods is a dream come true. I enjoy the peace, the quiet, the nature, the solitude. This kind of isolation is my lifestyle, not some strategy to avoid a virus. All my time is mine, and mine alone... well, mine and the dogs'. I get to decide how to spend my time. It's really a gift.

On Tuesday, March 17, I was walking the dogs, and one of my neighbors stopped his car to say hi. He asked me something, but I couldn't hear him, so I got closer. Just then he coughed without covering his mouth and I felt I was standing a little too close. His important question, the reason I got closer to him and got coughed on, was “How are the dogs?” I tried not to breathe and didn't want to open my mouth, so I just smiled and gave him a thumb signal. He drove away, and I rushed inside to wash my hands and my whole face with soap and water. I then washed my nose and gargled with hydrogen peroxide, too. I was so angry. How could people be so inconsiderate? I made a smoothie with apple, strawberry, banana, and freshly squeezed oranges. As I drank that, I made lentil soup and added lots of vegetables as well as turmeric, black pepper, and cumin to it. An hour later, I was having soup. I took a Vitamin B12 and an iron supplement with that. I drank water like medicine every hour on the hour for the rest of the day and went to bed after drinking some ginger tea and taking my low-dose aspirin, hoping for the best.

I like things to be clean, so I'm constantly cleaning. Also, I wash my hands a lot... more frequently than most. Why? It's just a habit I've had ever since I can remember. Another reason is I live with three dogs. Consequently, my fingerprints have faded and are almost nonexistent. Also, my hands are always dry because of my constant handwashing.

Wednesday morning, I felt fine. I had another smoothie. I went grocery shopping. At the store, I tried to look for masks and gloves, but that whole aisle was crowded, so I chose to avoid it. I went to get more wipes for cleaning. The shelves were all empty. I went for toilet paper. Empty. In the fruit section, there were only bananas, apples, mandarins, and peaches. I got the first three. In the vegetable section, there was no spinach, zucchini, or broccoli. (Yes. I know zucchini is a fruit, but it's sold in the vegetable section.) Since many of the items I needed were unavailable, I was out of there in ten minutes.

I'd never seen a store so empty. It was depressing. I'd been to the store a week before, and everything had looked normal. I'd bought my regular items, the same amount of everything I buy every week... and no, toilet paper hadn't been on my list, so I hadn't bought any. It was on my list this week, but there was none. I wasn't worried about not having enough food, though. Because of my vertigo, which visits me irregularly, and my inability to drive during a vertigo episode, which may last a few hours to a few weeks, I keep enough canned food for a few weeks for me and for the dogs: canned meats (sardines, tuna, salmon, chicken), canned soups (vegetable soup, chicken soup), and canned vegetables (sweet peas, green beans), and canned fruit, which I don't like much, but it's better than nothing.

On Thursday, I felt fine, and even though all this crap is going on in the world, I decided to keep a positive attitute and be excited about Nowruz, the celebration of spring. After my tutoring session on Skype, which takes place in my car where there's a better internet connection, I went inside thinking about taking a shower and watching something on DVD, but there was thunder, then rain, and it started to get really loud. My dog Hoppoo gets really scared during thunderstorms, so I decided not to leave him alone for a shower. I just put on my pj's and sat to watch a couple of episodes of White Collar. I had turned the sound up to cover that of the thunder but Hoppoo was still shaking. He was leaning against me with his head on my chest. I pressed him between my body and a pillow I held tight behind him, and it made him feel better. I didn't hear the alert on my phone. I didn't get the neighbors' phone call. I generally have terrible reception inside. We usually call each other when there's a tornado alert to make sure everyone has gotten the alert. Suddenly, all three dogs jumped down and ran toward the door barking.

I looked outside. It was pouring. I saw my neighbor holding a flashlight. I opened the door, and he was yelling, “Get out of there! It's gonna hit us any minute!” I didn't have time to put clothes or shoes on. I just took my phone and my car key because that will get the dogs to follow me, and we ran all the way to the shelter, a part of my neighbor's house. I was soaked when I got there and so were the pups. Two neighbors were there. One had his radio on, and we learned that tornado was coming right at us. The dogs were scared. The thunder was really loud and every clap of thunder startled them and made them move around. I was just trying to hold all three of them with my two arms so that they would stay right there with me. There hadn't been time to put their harnesses and leashes on. The man sitting next to me coughed and coughed, and I had nothing to cover my mouth and nose with. My hands were on the dogs. All I could do was turn my face down and away from him.

The tornado passed a few miles north of us. As I got up to leave, another alert came for another tornado. I stayed. The second tornado never happened. There was “no rotation,” the radio said. After a total of ninety minutes, the dogs and I were running back to our cabin in the rain while I was hoping the lightning wouldn't get us. I dried the dogs and went to take a quick shower. I washed my face and body with hot water and soap and gargled Listerine. I wore clean clothes and got out just in time for the change of the year, or Nowruz.

Friday morning, I woke up with a sore throat and a runny nose. With all the talk about the virus, it was scary, but I tried to think about it logically. I'd been sitting for ninety minutes in my wet clothes the night before, so it mades sense for me to have caught a cold. I made my smoothie and started soup. A few hours later, I got a headache, but I'd been having headaches for almost two months, so that was nothing. I didn't feel warm. I looked for a thermometer, and I found one in the box where I keep the dogs' nail clippers and fine-tooth comb. Then I remembered I'd used this thermometer for my dog once. No amount of alcohol would make me want to put that in my mouth after it had been stuck in my dog's butt. I went to bed Friday night, knowing I had done everything I could, nutrition-wise, to boost my immune system and make my “cold” go away, but I experienced chills and mild nausea.

I woke up Saturday and my muscles were sore, like they usually get when I do construction work for a few hours. I thought maybe I hadn't slept right. That can happen with three dogs in my bed. Breathing was a little uncomfortable, too. I wasn't able to take deep breaths. When I tried, I felt pain in my left lung. That had happened before, though. So maybe it was nothing. My throat was still sore, and I had a mild headache. I still didn't feel warm at all. I should be fine, I thought. All this talk about the Corona virus had created fear, and I wasn't going to let it get to me. I continued with my fruits and vegetables and soup and vitamin B12 and my iron supplement. I had to keep my body strong to fight this.

My neighbor stopped by my cabin to tell me he wasn't feeling well. He had a severe cough, and I kept my six-foot distance while talking to him. Apparently, the VA had told him he could go get tested whenever he wanted, but he didn't want to go there because everyone else would be sick, and he didn't  want to expose himself, just in case his cough was related to his precondition and not the virus.

I went to bed a little worried about my neighbor, an old man living alone with lung cancer. I was also feeling very uncomfortable Saturday night, with chills, nausea, and sore muscles, and two hours later, I had to get up because I couldn't breathe. I stepped outside to get air. I had a loose shirt on, but I still felt like it was too tight, and I kept stretching it away from my body. I spent most of Sunday walking outside, trying to breathe. I was stretching my arms above me and on both sides, trying to make room for a deep breath. All day, I managed to get two deep breaths. I still kept eating healthful foods and I used all my reflexology and anatomy knowledge to give myself a lymph massage, which is a manual lymphatic drainage. By nightfall, I was feeling a little better. I went to bed early and read for hours before I fell asleep.

I woke up Monday morning feeling much better, almost normal, whatever normal is. I thought I had dodged the proverbial bullet, but I wanted to keep my immune system strong and I was out of fresh fruit, so I went to the store. I called and asked my neighbors if they needed anything and ended up with a list which complicated things. Usually, when I go to the store, I buy the same products over and over, and I know exactly where everything is located. With this list I'd gotten from the neighbors, my shopping time increased a lot, and it took me almost an hour to find everything and get out. I still managed to stay away from other people as most of them were as cautious as I was. There were a few “covidiots” too, of course, and I did my best to not get close to anyone. I delivered the bags to the neighbors, went home, put the groceries away, and got in the shower. I also got a thermometer: no fever.

I didn't feel well Monday night: exhaustion, nausea, chills, and difficulty breathing. The nausea was stronger than it had been the last few nights, so I got up and made some ginger tea. After I drank it, I went back to bed. An hour later, I had to get up because I couldn't breathe lying down. I stepped outside for some air, but it wasn't enough. I started panicking, and that made things even worse. I tried to calm myself down. I boiled some water and squeezed a fresh lemon in it. I drank that. I sat down and started preparing my notes for the proofreading job I was doing. I worked a couple of hours, but my muscles were too sore to sit, so I went to bed. As I was finally starting to fall asleep, a thunderstorm started around three o'clock in the morning, and Hoppoo got scared. I usually walk around or dance with him, but I had no energy, so I just sat in bed, held him tight against me, squeezing him between my body and a pillow I had my arms wrapped around. (Yes, I sometimes end my sentences with prepositions, and I like it.) It helped him calm down, and, eventually, he fell asleep with his head against my chest. I started dozing off and realized the warmth his head had created on my chest made me feel more comfortable. We slept for about two hours like that, me sitting and him lying almost vertically against my body.

Now I'm up. The dogs have eaten their food, gone out, and are enjoying their regular nap, or what I call their "food coma," and I've just had my smoothie. My back hurts like I've lifted a truck. I have shortness of breath, a mild headache, and a dry cough.

I'll keep documenting this, whatever “this” is. Maybe it will help someone. One thing that has become clear, though, is that if this can happen to me, someone bordering on having obsessive-compulsive disorder when it comes to cleanliness, with my lifestyle, living alone and actively trying to avoid people, it can happen to anyone. A couple of unfortunate incidents, over which I had little control, have resulted in my current state. Please stay away from everyone who isn't living with you, and don't leave the house. 

Nowruz

Throughout the world, so many people have lost loved ones to this virus and so many others are sick. The rest are hopefully staying inside. Some are quietly celebrating the arrival of spring alone, some are fighting for their lives, and others are in mourning. It doesn't even feel like spring is here. It's sad... and quiet... and dark.

It's New Year's Eve in Iran and nobody is celebrating. Nowruz, literally meaning new day, referring to Earth's first day of spring, is special for the people of Iran, no matter where in the world they are. Most of the holidays currently celebrated in Iran are religious, whereas Nowruz, my favorite holiday, is directly related to the earth and to nature.

Everyone prepares for the holiday with a major house cleaning. Once the house is cleaned, people set the “haftseen,” placing seven specific items, all starting with the “s” sound in Farsi, on a table covered with a beautiful fabric called a “termeh.”

On the last Tuesday night of the year, “chaharshanbe soori” (also spelled “suri”), meaning red Wednesday, people jump over a fire, singing, dancing, and hoping for good health in the coming year. The first day of the year is the first day of spring, and the holiday lasts thirteen days into the new year. During this time, everyone visits family members, usually starting with parents, grandparents, then siblings, and finally other relatives during twelve days, and everyone goes out, usually on a picnic, on the thirteenth day to throw out the “sabzeh,” wheat or lentil sprouts, one of the seven items in the “haftseen.”

Integrity

As many members of the writing community know, I support writers any way I can. I read a lot, write book reviews, and help out however I can.

Everything I do and have done in my life somehow relates to languages, words, and books. I like learning languages. My university degrees are in French literature and teaching English. My job has been teaching English, mainly grammar and writing, for over thirty years. My other job has been proofreading for over thirty years. I've been writing for as long as I remember, more professionally in the last decade. I've been reading since I learned to read. It's my favorite hobby.

I'm good at my jobs because I love languages, know grammar, and pay attention to detail. I enjoy teaching and tutoring. Being an introvert, I love proofreading even more because it involves being alone, working from home, and reading.

I have proofread books written in various genres and learned a lot during the process of each assignment about the topic, the author, and human interactions. I've had the pleasure of meeting all kinds of writers from various backgrounds and I've proofread all kinds of books: fiction, memoirs, nonfiction, even textbooks and dictionaries. I'm currently proofreading a book, and I'm looking forward to starting another editing assignment next week.

When I like a book I read or proofread, I write a review. My reviews are always honest, a sincere expression of what I think of a book. I've never written a review in exchange for money or anything else. A few times, authors have sent me a book in exchange for an honest review, and I have read, reviewed, and rated their books just like any other.

I only write reviews for books I like. If I read a book I don't like, I don't write about it. My reviews are more like book recommendations. My reason for writing them is not to offend writers, but to support writers and connect readers and writers. I don't feel the need to give a bad review to a book I didn't like. To be honest, I just don't waste my time with a bad book; I don't finish it, nor do I write a review for it. My logic is that I don't have an unlimited supply of time, so I spend my time only for things I think are worth it.

A while ago I proofread someone's work and recently got to finally write a review for the book. The author didn't take my four-star rating very well. Their response to my four-star rating was to send me a picture of a one-star rating they'd gotten for the book and explain to me that they didn't take things personally because they're aware that people have their own issues.

The irony, to me, was more interesting than anything else. The fact that this person was even comparing these two ratings in their mind showed how bitter they were. The fact that this person was responding to me this way showed how spiteful they were. Yes... personal issues.

What I really wanted to say was, “Lighten up! My four-star rating was higher than your average rating of the book.” I didn't say anything, though. I just thought about it. Why would someone get so upset because they didn't get five stars? My review was positive. I even explained my reason for my rating in the review and the reason was about my personal dislikes. I didn't say anything negative about this book at all. So why?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized it comes down to expectations. Just because I proofread a book or consider an author my friend doesn't mean my review or rating of the book will be a certain way. I still review books honestly based on my perception and my likes and dislikes. I'm still me. If you like me for my integrity, respect my choice to maintain it and let it reflect in my work and in my support of what you do. If you expect me to compromise my integrity for you, you will be horribly disappointed. If you feign a friendship with me hoping you will get something I don't believe in, you're wasting valuable time. If you dare question or attack my integrity when things don't go your way, I don't have time for you. I've stood up to powerful corrupt people; I'm still here, resolved, and so is my integrity, unwavered.

Today's Thoughts

My life changed completely after I adopted my dogs. I loved my routine before the dogs, but that doesn't mean I regret having gotten the dogs. I enjoyed spending time with them and taking care of them as soon as I brought them home ten years ago. Before the dogs, every morning, I would go to the gym, shower and get dressed there, and go to work. After work, I would go to my favorite bookstore and read books I couldn't afford to buy until they closed at 11pm. On Fridays and Saturdays, after work, I would go to my coffee shop and read my book there because they always had live music those two nights. I never went out to meet people. Everything I did, I did alone. I liked it that way.

Being an introvert, I cherish the time I spend at home, alone. I read, watch movies, write, play with the dogs, and work on various puzzles. When I was working eighteen hours a day six days a week, I dreamed for a moment alone. I tried to keep Sundays off, but I ended up working a few hours even on Sundays, which was also laundry day and grocery-shopping day and cook-for-the-whole-week day and clean-the-house day and take-the-dogs-to-the-park day. I longed for an hour alone with no responsibility to anyone just to read or write. In those days, the only “reading” for pleasure I did was in the form of audiobooks. I listened to CDs in the car during my commute. The only writing I did was a post on a blog here or there once every few months. I did manage to watch movies at home on DVD, but to save time, I did that while I did my stretches and exercise at home. I only used the gym for its swimming pool every Sunday early morning, and that was after my favorite coffee shop at the beach, where I liked to go for breakfast, permanently closed.

I know many people, particularly extroverts, find this desire to stay at home alone weird, but to each his own. I know it's difficult for them to understand. I get as excited for having alone time as they do when they're invited to a cool party. Now, when I get invited to parties, the struggle begins. If I don't go, they'll get offended. They're my friends, and I don't want to offend them. If I go, I know I won't enjoy myself. I'll stand in a corner and watch everyone have fun while thinking about all the things I wish I were doing at home. Besides, my dogs don't like to be left alone. When I go to work, I have no choice, but parties? I think about them and feel guilty to have left the house to make sure friends weren't offended when my first responsibility is to my babies. I usually find a valid excuse to decline such invitations. I personally don't mind small gatherings where I know everyone and enjoy their company, but even that has a time limit. Anything more than two hours, and the same thoughts start to creep into my mind.

Now, with this virus spreading like wildfire, everyone is talking about social distancing, which makes sense, and I read so many articles on how to stay at home. I know it's difficult for some people, but I don't, or rather can't, understand it. I ask myself Can't these people stand themselves for a couple of weeks? Then I started thinking Maybe they don't love themselves as much as I love myself... which leads to my next thought Do I love myself too much? Am I a narcissist?

Facebook reminded me today that I've been a member for eleven years. I didn't know exactly when I had joined Facebook, but apparently it was March 16, 2009. What I do remember is that everyone I knew was on Facebook then, and they kept telling me to join. I don't regret having opened an account because, shortly after, I found many old friends in different countries that I would probably never see or hear from again if it weren't for social media, or, more specifically, Facebook.

Around the same time, one of my friends told me to get a Twitter account, which I did immediately. I joined, but I was learning how to work with Facebook, so I didn't want to overdo it, and I forgot all about my Twitter account until years later a couple of colleagues asked me my Twitter handle and a while after that one of my students wrote an essay about it, and eventually I saw tweets posted on Facebook. Still, I didn't become active on Twitter until last year in March when Twitter sent me a ten-year anniversary reminder.

By then I was living in the woods and was pleasantly socially distanced from everyone I knew. I thought it might not be a bad idea to learn how Twitter works. I was working on my memoir and decided I should find other writers on Twitter. I didn't know anything about the writing community. I joined and several nice people in the community gave me tips and helped me connect with others. Today, I'm grateful for the friends I've found in the writing community on Twitter. I won't name you, but you know who you are.

Book Review

The Little Book of Awesomeness, by Martin Grosvenor, is an awesome little book composed of two parts. The first is the events in the author's life that lead to the second, Welcome to the Art of Fuseboo, which offers thirty practical steps anyone can follow to attain mental and, to some degree, physical health.

I recommend this book to everyone. It's an easy read, and the author clearly and honestly describes his struggles, with which many of us can relate. He then offers simple ways to shift focus to what really matters.

Book Review

Bits & Pieces by Dawn Hosmer is the story of a girl, Tessa, with an unwanted gift. If she physically touches someone, she will experience flashes of specific colors, each representing that person's pain, abilities, premonitions, or memories. Over the years, she has become a combination of her own identity and all these bits of others, which she has gradually and accidentally acquired. She doesn't go out much and avoids people as much as she can for this very reason, but her therapist encourages her to abandon her solitude and have a social life, so Tessa tries. As soon as she meets someone she believes to be a nice guy and actually connects with him, she also starts having disturbing memories of various women's faces as they are dying, a serial killer's memories, and Tessa has to find out where she picked up this nightmare now living in her head.

This very well-written story is mainly a psychological thriller but contains elements of so many other genres: mystery, supernatural, romance, and suspense. It is fast-paced and has a huge twist. I was hooked from the first page and could not put it down. I highly recommend it to everyone – with a warning: Some of Tessa's memories are very disturbing; they are, after all, those of a sadistic serial killer.

I congratulate Dawn Hosmer on the fantastic job she's done, give this book five stars, and look forward to reading its sequel.

Book Review

Dream Girl, by S.J. Lomas, is the story of Christine and Gabriel, who meet in real life and go on a series of adventures together in their dreams.

This romance / adventure is told from two perspectives, Christine's and Gabriel's, and is set in two different worlds, the real world and the dream world.

I enjoyed reading Dream Girl mainly because it's very well-written in terms of linguistic features, both structure and vocabulary.  I recommend it to young adults, for whom it was written and with whom, I believe, it will resonate, given the age of the characters.

Book Review

The Awful Truth about the Sushing Prize by Marco Ocram (a.k.a. Denis Shaughnessy) is a brilliantly-written crime thriller, “a light spoof,” parodizing not only literary works but also the writing process itself. Ocram writes the first thing that pops into his head and doesn't go back to revise anything he's written – “what was written was written.” This gets him stuck in strange situations, both in writing and in the story, and forces him to use “ludicrous plot twists whenever it suits him” to get himself out of a jam. In the words of Professor Sushing, “This so-called novel is the final gruesome development of Ocram's warped philosophy of literature. It is no less than a catalogue of bizarre and improbable twists from start to end.”

Marco Ocram isn't just the author of The Awful Truth about the Sushing Prize; he is also the narrator of the story as well as the fictional author of The Awful Truth about the Herbert Quarry Affair, “the world's fastest-selling book,” making him a “literary mega-star.” Ocram, who wears his “anorak” and his Rolex watch with his mom's face on the dial, is obsessed with his black Range Rover with tinted windows. He and his friend, Como Galahad, the Chief of Police of Clarkesville County, fight crime – and Marco writes about it. He is writing his book and sharing the process of writing with the reader: metacognitive story-telling. “I wondered if I was […] committing some enormous literary gaffe.” He does whatever he wants with his writing style, switching to movie-script mode to make writing a dialogue easier and changing to present tense to describe an action-packed scene, all the while alerting the reader of the changes. Ocram writes what he knows and lets the reader fill in the blanks when he doesn't. “[...] ignorance had never stopped me from writing about boring things, and I wasn't going to let it now.”

Those with a sense of humor will thoroughly enjoy the book. It's different, original, absurd, entertaining, ridiculous, and hilarious, all at the same time. I loved it. I found myself laughing out loud at various descriptions and situations throughout the book. I highly recommend it. I give it five stars because that's the maximum allowed. I finished this book and immediately bought the author's next book. I'm officially “Ocramized.”

The Awful Truth About The Sushing Prize 
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1946501131/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_apa_i_YUPsEb6V95BX0