WFH: Week Ten

Friday morning my heart sank when I discovered that my clock had stopped. How would I get it repaired, now? Wait a sec ... 4:05 (give or take, the clock had been running a little fast) ... I woke up during the night and thought it was odd that the window blinds were rattling, ever so slightly. The windows were closed, no breeze ... was it an earthquake?! [Yup.] Evidently it woke me, though I didn't feel the wave; yet it was strong enough to interfere with the swinging pendulum of my clock, the epicenter more than 250 miles away.

During my morning workouts, I have been exercising my brain by watching the original Cosmos series. Sometimes I need a break and listen to a contemporary podcast, instead. And sometimes, I get stuck. I've watched episodes 8 and 9 two or three times.

Why did the nuclear force sound like magic, to me? Protons, electrons, and neutrons I remember from basic chemistry, but (alas) I never studied physics. I was reminded of a time—long before we had the world of knowledge at our fingertips [thanks, Google]—when I approached a colleague with a physics degree: “I abase myself before you, but ... I realized today that I don't remember how gravity works.” He laughed. [cf. Gravitation]

And speaking of Google, of course I was familiar with the origin of the name. But I had never before heard the term googolplex (Episode 9), and now I see just how clever a name is the Googleplex.

The dissonant yellow blossoms that pop up on my red salvia bush seem out of place, but remind us that the world is imperfect. I'm grateful to be working, grateful to have work as a distraction, and grateful to be able to work from home. This is my life in 2020, and I see no change on the horizon.

Ten years ago this week I enjoyed one of my favorite organized rides, Strawberry Fields Forever. This year's edition has been postponed, optimistically, to October.

Five years ago, I lost my mom. It has been five years, already? I was fortunate to spend most of her last day with her. That morning, I knew. Somehow I understood that day would be her last. Both of her children were at her side, bringing her whatever comfort and peace of mind might come from knowing that she was not alone when she took her last breath that night—a privilege that all-too-many heartbroken families cannot have, today.

Long before I heard Carl Sagan intone “We are made of star stuff,” I absorbed it from Joni Mitchell:

Well maybe it's the time of year
Or maybe it's the time of man ...

We are stardust
Billion-year-old carbon ...

Life is for learning.

The week opened with a confirmed 2339 cases of COVID-19 in our county, and closed with 2453 (a 4.9% increase).