The keys to our lockdown

You can learn a lot about people during a pandemic, but that would take a great amount of snooping and lots of judgement calls, so it's much easier to just look inward. What I've learned about myself after 10 weeks of lockdown, which now has lifted considerably, has surprised even myself. Here are some takeaways:


The state of our house

It has been my assumption for many years that I prefer a neat and tidy house because I want it to look nice should someone stop by unexpectedly. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a clean freak and sometimes the layers of dust on the horizontal surfaces in our house have their own zip codes. I'm talking the general tidiness factor that allows a guest to walk in and be greeted with a sense that things are clean and put together and someone cares enough to vacuum and dust on a schedule, if not regularly.

Was I doing that for others? Nope, not at all, I've been doing it for myself all along! No one was stopping by, and if they were they were, it was just to drop things off on the porch and run back to their cars. Yet I still feel compelled to keep things neat and tidy. I'm the person I've been picking up for all this time. It was a revelation to me.

The same thing went for my appearance. While not a glamour queen or anything, I'd thought that when I get dressed in the morning, I'm mostly doing it for others, that I cared maybe a bit too much how others viewed me and what I wore. But I found out during lockdown, when the only ones to see me day after day were my loving and sort of colorblind husband and dog, that I dress for me. Each and everyday, even when there were no Zoom meetings to attend, I got dressed in something semi-normal, put makeup on and fixed my ever growing hair. I can't stay in jammies all day, even in a pandemic, I need a fixed waistband to get my day started.

How I get projects done

The reason I'm not a morning person isn't because I wake up grouchy or in a bad mood. OK, well lately this pandemic has me waking up in a less than cheery state. But the reason I don't get much done in the morning is because I prefer open-ended time frames for anything more than loading the dishwasher or starting a load of laundry.

My job with the school district and my proctoring work is typically in the afternoons, and I didn't realize how much this was affecting my desire to tackle big and little projects around the house. My work isn't physically draining, but the timing really messes with my wanting to start something I won't have time to finish to the bitter (or sweet) end.

Time wasn't much of a factor on lockdown. In fact "all the time in the world" was suddenly handed to us on a silver platter. From fixing a hole in the ceiling that's been there since we moved in, to painting the bathroom, the mailbox, the shutters and anything that wasn't moving, to cleaning out the garage shelves and hauling bricks in the yard - lots got done. Our yard is all ready for company, even if we aren't. Starting a Zoom English class for my Moldovan friends? That one has been a total kick. Time is a gift, and I was a very happy recipient.

I'm not a panic eater after all
Along with the whole toilet paper thing, pandemic snacking seemed to be a big topic of discussion. When the realities of the coronavirus first really hit, for once in my life eating did not become an avenue of distraction or comfort for me. In fact, I lost my appetite for most of the things I love, which was good because I was in no mood to brave the line at Trader Joe's for my "must haves" of peanut butter, chocolate covered anything, Norwegian Seed Crackers and avocados.

With nowhere to go and all those days of open-ended time ahead of me, I found I was enjoying cooking more than ever. We sat down to so many meals together, even breakfast on the porch as we watched the neighbors walk by. To my incredible surprise I put on a few live cooking shows for friends and I didn't burn anything. We ate like kings - whole-food plant-based kings.

I loved shutdown. There I said it.

Trying to be a sympathetic friend, I listen and read as people have expressed how much they miss getting together with friends at restaurants and parties, or just grabbing a cup of coffee together. I mentally reach down inside to see if I still have a heart, because honestly I have been completely enjoying this time. If you could have the shut-down minus the death, sickness, fear, and economic devastation, I'd say "Stay Home Directive - How long can we keep this up?"

Our street was so quiet, we met neighbors we've never even seen before, and when they asked how we were, we knew they really wanted to know how we were. We sat on the porch more than we have in the seven years we've lived here. There was an unexpected calmness about life amidst the chaos, and part of me, well a huge part of me, doesn't want it to end. My friends' kids and my congregation and my hair salon, bring those back. Alright, maybe sidewalk salons and al fresco meetings. And travel in a floating bubble with no TSA lines. And teleporting to Chicago. All the other stuff can trickle back in as slowly as it wants, if at all.

Some keys to my success, should I ever face something like this again:

First, I tried not to have a cow about staying home.
We had food, water, shelter, rice and beans.
And a dog, who might have enjoyed it if we'd had a cow.

Putting first things first was the most important step.
Not just an important step, but a historic one. 

I had this positive guy with me.

And this positively adorbs pup, who got more walks than ever before.

We planted our pandemic garden.
It's like a Victory Garden, with much less know-how than generation's past.
Grow garden grow, it means less trips to the stores!

When we did venture out, we masked up.
Or we painted, whichever you prefer. 

Our front yard was a plethora of purple.
White shutters look better with purple than the old brown ones.

If you want your hair to grow out, have them close all the hair salons.
Works every time.

Should there be food shortages, we've got the whole calories and scurvy thing covered.

Green smoothies just about every morning.

Happy meals are super good for you.

We rediscovered the joys of delivered produce.

Rest is key to staying balanced. 

Veggie burgers to the rescue!

We ate some most interesting and tasty meals.
Exactly why do I run to the store so often?
Because now I know so many errands are completely overrated.

When I got super stressed about the news, I cried.
Then I made masks, because it's hard to cry when you're sewing. 

Projects large and small became the focus of our attention.
We tackled some major stuff, and minor things too, because
it's better to view your home as your castle rather than a prison in lockdown.
We spiffed up the castle, with more to come.

Finally, we spoiled this little Flower Pup rotten.
All the dogs, and some of the people, wish Stay-at-Home would go on and on,
but it can't and won't.
But we can sure come out of it better people with a stronger sense of what really matters.
Faith - Family - Friends - Furry Things

Sweet Potato Black Bean Chili, an Accidental Delight

My husband's only complaint about my cooking is that I often accidentally come up with a hit, and I can't recreate it. A little of this, a little of that, some produce I threw in because it was on its way out, plus half a can of something I found in the fridge. It all becomes a yummy dinner that we'll never have again, because I didn't pay attention to what I was dumping in.

Enter the coronavirus pandemic, where I've been doing either live cooking demos on Instagram or filming them to upload to IGTV. I first started doing it to stay connected with friends, but then realized I really enjoy it. They aren't professional by any means, I still have yet to upload the one where the bottle of catsup sprayed all over me.

I videoed myself making some sweet potato black bean chili, explaining in no uncertain terms that this wasn't prize winning chili, just something healthy for the two of us. And what would you know, it turned out great. Really really tasty. So I watched again my little of this, little of that measurements to see what I could see. Here is my best attempt to document what went into this  yummy and healthful vegan chili.

Sweet Potato Black Bean Chili

1/2 onion, chopped

2 or 3 carrots, chopped

1 small or 1/2 large red bell pepper, chopped

2 ribs celery, chopped

6 small or 3 large sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped

2 cans black beans, undrained (I used low sodium)

1 can chopped or stewed tomatoes

1 large can black olives, chopped

1 bag frozen corn (or one can)

1/2 small can tomato paste

1/2 cup canned pumpkin (optional)

2 cans of water (using the black bean can to measure)

1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

1/2 teaspoon chili flakes

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

1 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 teaspoon dried oregano

2 teaspoons all purpose seasoning

1/4 teaspoon liquid smoke flavoring (optional)

salt to taste (optional)

Put all ingredients in an Instant Pot or electric pressure cooker, stir together and cook on high pressure for 6 minutes. Let the pressure release naturally.

Or put all ingredients in a slow cooker and let simmer for 8-10 hours.

Enjoy!

That was it. Super easy - dump and go. The spices are most likely very flexible, this wasn't spicy at all, just rich and delicious. Jazz it up to make it hotter if you like, but I was letting the sweet potatoes shine. They did!

Get out your big spoon!

Super tasty the next day, with a beer.

Waiting for the first shoe to drop

It all developed so slowly. It's hard to put a day on when the real impact of the global pandemic hit me. This thing we all refuse to call COVID19 (4 syllables) and instead call the coronavirus (6 syllables) came like the slowest tsunami ever, and we haven't even seen its full crest.



Back at the end of January I got a call for a last minute trip to Chicago for work. I scrambled to get packed and ready, not too hard because for this job I've been there so many times I know what's expected. All black clothes for work, warm stuff for outside, but not too warm because I spend most of the time inside the vast McCormick Center which is connected by corridors to my hotel. Five nights of luxury broken up by brutally long working days and a couple chances to see my friend Roxy and visit the Romanian congregation in Skokie.




The day before my trip a young friend who was following the story emerging from Wuhan China asked me if I was afraid to fly, especially to Chicago, where there was a case of this new virus. No, not afraid to fly, not afraid of Chicago, just afraid I'd miss my 4:30 am wake-up call if I was sleeping "deaf-side up." We contemplated buying an Apple watch with a buzzer so I could rest easier. Ran out of time for that, instead I set my phone alarm for 4:30, 4:31, 4:32, 4:33 and so forth. I found out the hotel still does wake up calls too.




There were some really bad technical difficulties with the test which I can't go into. Suffice it to say we worked the longest day I've ever worked (5:30 am - 11:30 pm) with the most disappointing results. We were being careful with hygiene because it was flu season, but nothing special. Little did I know when I flew home, that was going to be my last flight for a long time. I sat by a young man coming back to his brother's funeral from suicide. A most draining and gut-wrenching conversation filled the majority of the trip home. I arrived back completely spent in every way.




The next Monday I had jury duty selection and was forced to sit by a young woman who was coughing and hacking and snorting and sniffling in my limited breathing space. I tried looking for another seat, but I couldn't and had to sit by the hacker. Sure enough, four days later on a conference with my husband in Santa Rosa, I got a doozy of a cold. Fever, sore throat, upper respiratory infection big time. I ended up with double pink eye and an ear ache, with feeling like I'd been run over by a semi. It took me very long to recover. In the midst of the fog of this virus, I could sense that this mystery virus in China wasn't just in China anymore. It was spreading. My calls in to my doctor for the pink eye and earache were met with many questions about where I had traveled and did I have a dry cough. The answers were Chicago, that blasted courthouse, Santa Rosa and bed, and not a dry cough, mine was a bit wet.




With each half week came more and more bad news, more and more people were getting "it" (one syllable) as we now all call COVID19. Photos arrived from our friend in Seattle who works at Costco of people racing down the aisle to hoard toilet paper. The news was filled with TP, sanitizer wipes, paper towels and death in rest homes. And we thought the craziness had peaked.




The rest of the dates are getting jumbled. We began to rethink the whole "kiss, hug, kiss again, shake every single hand of every single person" at our Romanian meetings, filled with the most kissy-huggy-shaky-handy group of friends you've ever experienced. I started washing my hands more, way more, especially since I had recently been so sick. Then I just started refusing to kiss, and introduced the fist bump and then the toe kick. Then we had our last physical meeting on March 7. We thought it would be for 2 weeks. It's now been 3 weeks and will most likely go on this way for months.


How are we keeping our unity? First we watched streamed talks and meetings from Romania. But then we got direction that we were still to meet as a congregation, but on Zoom. I had never heard of Zoom before. Now it's a regular part of my vocabulary. We have Zoom meetings with our congregation, and it's simply adorable to see these older immigrants taking to this great technology on their ipads and iphones. We are learning how to mute, stop video, raise our hands, upload a nice photo and we're memorizing everyone's pictures hanging above their sofas. But most of all we are staying united, encouraged, upbuilt and connected. Zoom is the best invention of our times. Let's all give a big sanitized gloved hand for Zoom.


About the time I was completely over my cold from February, and in the middle of making marmalade, my husband told me he had a sore throat, wasn't feeling well and was going out to the trailer to self-quarantine. My heart sunk, every muscle in my body began to tingle and I wanted to just curl up into a ball and cry. But I had marmalade bubbling in pots and I had to deal with it. By the time they were in their jars I had calmed down. My thinking process went from total dread to "This isn't a death sentence, this isn't Ebola, he will be OK, and worst case scenario I have stellar examples of friends who have faced the worst of the worst of losing a mate and they are still functioning as beautiful giving people who have true purpose in life". From now on, when I get some bad news, I'm going to make marmalade, because the process got me from an emotional fetal position to standing tall and positive by the time the lids make it on the jars.


During all of this, in addition to Ernst self-isolating in our trailer, we had no bathroom except for the one in the pool house and the one in the trailer. A leaky toilet had led to a stained floor which led to pulling it up to investigate which led to discovering mold which led to finding out it was really bad to tear up a bathroom during a pandemic. "Boo hoo, poor me, no inside toilet!" Again, an attitude adjustment was in order, as I walked out in the dark with my flashlight to use the loo. "Jessica, this is all some people have or know or experience their whole life. Buck up and deal with it." I should have made some more marmalade. Finally after 12 long days the dad of one of Ernst's students agreed to come and put in our new floor. Yippee for floor guys who also set toilets! We were flushing again by the time Ernst was better.


In amongst the growing tragedy this epidemic (now pandemic) has wrought, life goes on. Never did I think San Francisco would order a lockdown of its citizens. "Those poor people!" I thought. Then a few days later my county, Sacramento, got a similar directive. It seemed so drastic, so scary, so unbelievable.


Then we just got used to staying at home. We had enough food, we never hoarded, we just prepared. My motto is "We aren't preppers, we are preparers." We basically lived on beans and rice before this started, the only hard part is getting the amounts of fresh produce we consume. We signed up for a farm box delivery, can't wait to see what it contains.


Our days consist of eating real meals together at our table, spending lots of time with our dog, Zooming with our congregation, getting more stuff done around the house than I ever thought possible and trying not to look at the news while still staying informed. At this writing, we don't know anyone personally who has it, and I hope that stays the case until the experts nail down the best "drug cocktail" to hit this with.


We are eating extremely healthy, our goal is to keep our inflammation down and our blood flowing freely through every artery, vein and the tiniest of capillaries in our bodies. I'm not going to binge eat junk food, even vegan junk food, right before what might be my body's most important fight ever, surviving COVID19. We continue to eat a low added fats, whole-food plant-based diet heavy on the greens and vegetables. Since I'm only working the morning shift on weekends at my school district job I have so much time to mindfully plan meals around the food we have. I'm quickly learning how to enhance frozen vegetables to make our fresh last longer.


Our biggest question now is did Ernst get a very mild version of the virus? He said the back of his throat was a color he had never seen it, it was purple. And his tonsils looked very odd too, with ominous streaks of veins coming off them. Of course we can't know, they aren't going to waste a precious test on someone who only had mild symptoms. It just would ease my mine to know this guy who has survived so many health scares got through this one with just a week of self-imposed isolation.


Without that knowledge, we are just staying home as much as humanly possible, staying connected with our friends and while taking precautions, knowing the picture is much bigger than our little home, our little home with the big backyard and the modest supply of toilet paper. So if you run out of legumes, we can share. But don't come knocking at our door for TP, all we'll hand you is package of frozen collard greens.


Until next time...Stay safe, Stay smart and Stay HOME.

Stay connected

Stay strong

Stay kind

Stay clean

Stay healthy

Stay protected (from paint)

Stay bright

Stay sane (dryer balls in dog food?)

Stay determined to eat the food you already bought

Stay realistic

Stay spicy

Stay masked when necessary

Stay exercised



Stay busy

Stay hopeful we will soon be back with our friends

Stay home!





Marching Onward!

February 2020 will go down in my history as a very, very bad month. I would say I want a do-over, but that sounds too painful, so I'm moving onward and upward. March 1st never sounded so good.

February started with me still reeling from the end of January, which had me going on a very last minute work trip to Chicago. I had two days to prepare, but I've been there many times before so that part wasn't daunting. The daunting part was that usually I travel there with either my husband or with a set of close friends who also work the same exam as I do. This time I was on my own. Staying at a fancy pants hotel all by yourself is a bit pathetic.

The work situation ended up being horridly disaster-ridden. I can't even divulge what happened, just a technology fail of epic proportions. The only good thing about the trip was seeing my friends in the Romanian congregation in Skokie. There's never a lack of new and fun places to visit in Chicago, and my friends were kind enough to come pick me up at my lonely hotel and drive me around town to explore all the vegan options, which seem endless.

That trip took a lot out of me, so I started February off dragging. A few days in I had to drag myself to jury duty where I was forced to sit next to an obviously ill woman who was hacking and coughing the whole time. As interesting as the jury selection process was, and as funny as the judge was, my overwhelming memory of the experience was thinking "She'd better not get me sick, she'd better not get me sick." Sure enough, a few days later, while at a conference in Santa Rosa with my husband, I got sick.

For the next two and a half weeks I was a walking medical dictionary for every possible symptom of a head cold. Fever, headache, double viral pink eye, earache, sore throat, coughing - the list went on and on. About this time the whole Coronavirus thing was picking up speed, and my call in to my doctor about the pink eye was met with "Have you been to any affected areas lately?" Chicago, a jury selection room in Sacramento and Santa Rosa, that was it. It was a doozy of a cold, but I could happily conclude it was of the most common variety. Hot tea, lemon, honey, some Jagermeister and Netflix got me through.

So what else happened in this most dreadful month? Oh, just a trip to the ER for my husband, who passed out after a bout of possible Norovirus. Yep, while I was still so sick, my husband gave me the scare of a lifetime (which can be added to all the other scares of a lifetime he's given me) and had me on the phone with 911 one morning as his BP dropped to a frightening level. The dispatcher asked me how old he was. I'm sure she could have used a ballpark number, but I couldn't remember exactly and when I asked him. that's the point where he completely blacked out. I was screaming "How OLD are you?" so loud, I cringe in embarrassment still. That dispatcher must have thought we needed some serious help, because very soon our living room was filled with paramedics. By this time he woke up, we both knew how old he was and the rest of the morning was spent in the ER finding out he was and is in great shape.

So what else happened? Somewhere in there I gave a talk in Romanian, I didn't cough once but definitely not my best effort. On the plumbing front, our toilet is leaking, which will most likely need a new bathroom floor. The backyard spigot was jealous of all the attention and leaked even more than the toilet. We started a carport/solar panel structure that had Ernst and I completely disagreeing on HOW HIGH we were going to make it (I wanted sensible, he wanted close to the moon. I missed a bunch of work because of being sick and then ended the month proctoring an eventful California Bar Exam. So much drama, and that's not including the total weirdness of people taking the bar exam in surgical masks! Is it proper etiquette to ask "Hey, is that mask for your protection or mine?"

Those were the highlights of February 2020. The weather was glorious, as it often is when one is sick, but glorious in a way that screams "we need rain, please skies, drop some rain because I don't want to water the yard with double pink eye." We got a drizzle the evening of February 29th, which was hopefully a glimpse of a wetter March? We are only one day into this clean new month, and I'm liking it already. A friend asked me to sew up a little project for her niece, and it was the most productive thing I've done in weeks and weeks. I'm getting jazzed about when the real spring hits, excited about some upcoming trips we have planned (Chicago's in there again) and just getting back to feeling good again. March, let's do this!

A rice sock holder and two Bag Buddies.
Yes, I did something besides cough and hack!

The Winter of My Discombobulation

Do you remember the Mary Tyler Moore Show? It's an oldie, it aired back in the 70's. Ms. Moore played career woman Mary Richards, who was super stylish, always pulled together, had an awesome apartment and wardrobe. Her life wasn't perfect, but her outfits and hair certainly were.


Yes, always so polished, except for that one episode when Mary was up for an award. She had a nasty head cold, stuffy red nose and all, she'd had a disaster with her typically perfect hair, hurt her ankle and at the last minute a wardrobe malfunction forced her to borrow a dress from her funky-hip neighbor Rhoda. As Mary limped up to the podium to receive her award, the first thing she said was "I usually look so much better than this!"


I'm no Mary, either Tyler Moore or Richards, but I'm having that moment played over and over lately. I want to wear a sign that says "I usually look better than this."


MY COLORING

2019 was my Year of Going Silver. While I thought there'd be more of it (grey) and it would be hard to get used to, letting go of the dye was one of the best decisions I've ever made, looks-wise. I'm so thrilled I got through it without either buying a wig, bailing and going back to the boxed color or pulling my hair out, strand by strand. It turned out so cool, really cool. And therein lies the only problem with my decision. It's thrown this former warm-toned Autumn into a multi-seasonal tizzy!


None of my tried-and-true colors look good on me anymore. Orange is a lemon, lime green is queasy and brown is downright poopy. My face looks pink and suddenly looks great with silver jewelry, while the rest of me is still rocking gold rings. How can the simple act of finding something to pull over one's head and not look like something the cat dragged in be so hard? The numerous trips to the thrift store - the numerous sweaters I've purchased for $5 trying to find any color that works - the donation pile in the garage stacked up with $5 sweaters to redonate - it's a circle of futility that is only benefiting charities at this point.


I believe I've stumbled onto the answer, though. Picking the brains of my friends Mr. Google and Sara from New York, my dilemma may be nearing its badly colored end. It appears I'm a Soft Summer who has neutral coloring, can wear both gold and silver, but must must must wear muted colors near my face. Muted, Jess. No vibrant oranges, no tomato reds, and slap yourself if you wear a heavy brown near your hair that's no longer brown. "Suited for Muted" is the new catch phrase for 2020. Goodwill pile in the garage, prepare for a wardrobe dump of Autumn colors.




MY SMILE

Because of some shifting molars that were causing some gum issues, I opted to get Invisalign trays this October. The thing they don't tell you about Invisalign is that you won't just be wearing clear liners. They will also be gluing "attachments" to your teeth to get things to move more easily. What do the attachments look like? A bit like tiny pieces of broken Tic Tacs. But on my eye teeth, more like the entire Tic Tac has been affixed. My eye teeth appear pregnant and ready to give birth any day. My lips catch on these attachments while the liners are off. When they are in my mouth? Then my lips look puffy and awkward, a bit like Meg Ryan after her ill-advised lip job, but without Ms. Ryan's adorable hair, figure and obvious knowledge of the perfect colors to wear. Soon I'll be done with this treatment and the ability to smile like a normal person will return, maybe around the same time I learn what "muted" means.

MY SKIN

Winter is hard on skin. The air inside is dry, and lots of ooey gooey moisturizer is necessary. It was probably not the best season to start a strong exfoliating process. One minute my skin is fine, the next minute it looks like a snake when it slithers out of its skin. Or rather, it looks like what the snake left behind. Not pretty. And on top of that, what else happened to this 57 year-old, recently grey-revealed woman wearing the wrong colors, the one with the awkward smile? Pimples. Yep, I have been getting break outs. Go. Figure.

MY HAIR CUT


Wait, you say, "She's happy with her hair, right? She has to be happy about something!" Yes, I'm so very happy about my hair color and that I don't have to think about it any more. I really love the color. I even made my "Memoji" grey-haired. But see that hair style? That is what I was warned about, the ever-so-joyful time spent trying to grow out a pixie cut. I heard it was hard. I heard it was awkward. I heard you either had to get it cut often or just often be annoyed with it. Maybe if I wasn't spending so much money at the thrift store buying wrong colored sweaters, I could be getting it cut more frequently. But just like I had to be patient and let my roots reveal themselves...ever...so...slowly...this funky style will grow out soon. I just have to get thru Winter and wait for Spring and my dry skin to Fall off and soon I'll find my Summer self. Muted, of course.

No Waste November 2019? Sadly, no.

Last year, November 2018, my husband and I (mostly me) decided to take on No Waste November. The goal was to not buy, and therefore not discard, any unrecyclable packaging. It was a challenge, but with a lot of thought, ingenuity and reusable mesh produce bags, we did it. It meant giving up many beloved products from my "can shop there without a brain" favorite store, Trader Joe's. While TJ's has lots of unpackaged produce, their pre-washed items in plastic bags are so easy to use, it's hard to resist them.

So for last year's challenge, I bought lots of loose produce from the bigger stores I normally avoid when I'm busy, namely Raley's, WinCo Foods and Sprouts Farmers Market. It felt good to fill our bellies with healthful food while not topping out the garbage can with packaging headed for the landfill. No Waste November 2018 was a success!

This year as November approached I geared up mentally to repeat last year. No sweat, this challenge isn't that hard. It was amazing to see how little waste we produced last year by simply refusing to purchase "one-use only" packaging.

And then November came, on the heels of the sudden death of a lovely woman we worked with for years on volunteer building projects. She was much too young, much too vibrant, much too full of life to even imagine her now dead. I stumbled into the eleventh month of the year, feeling like someone punched me hard in the middle of everything that counts.

A week after Mindy's memorial service, which was attended by 480 people who were equally stunned to the core, our dear friend Dal died. He was about the kindest, most soft-hearted man I've ever met, with a melodious voice that matched his well-chosen words of support and love. Any corner of me that didn't feel devastated, well Dal's death found it and set up camp. This was a hard month. Very hard.

And so our No Waste November became a Just Get Through November. I'm sure our buying habits and garbage production rates still are well below the average for our area, but yep, I caved and bought some treats. Treats in plastic. Salad kits from Trader Joe's with innumerable little bags of add-ins, in even more plastic. One shot eating, with the trash to prove it. Maybe next year, November, maybe next year.

So while we weren't perfect, and November pretty much stank, I'm going to count up the victories, which surprisingly were quiet orange and came in their own compostable packages.

A needed trip to Yosemite was squeezed in early November.

Soup is good for the saddest of souls.

Ginger Bear did his best to cheer me up.

Persimmons did their thing, looking all perky and cute.

Trader Joe's ingredients, every last one.

Sweet Potato Chocolate Pie!
At least the sweet potatoes weren't packaged. 

A free pumpkin from my husband's work.
Comes in its own wrapper!

I invented Pumpkin Rice Porridge.
Baked in the shell.
Looks awful, tasted great.

Thus ends November 2019.
Eat well.
Tell your friends you love them.