Day one of social distancing during the Coronavirus Outbreak

I read on Twitter today that when Shakespeare was quarantined because of the plague, he wrote King Lear.

Shakespeare blogging about food?

No pressure.

I have two grants and a 4000-word article to write by the end of the month and an idea for an op-ed piece for the LA Times. There is also a novel sitting in the wings that may or may not turn into a screenplay.

So, after nearly a year I decided to blog again. Procrastination at it's finest.

I was going to blog on my Laughing Matriarch site, but I can't get into the damn thing, so I shall blog on this site which was occasionally authored by my husband.

Cest la Vie.

Which brings me to today, Saturday 3/14/2020. After trying to get into three grocery stores for a few items, I gave up and came home to my new widow pad (is that a term?) and decided to make applesauce while watching the movie Julie/Julia on Netflix.

Making applesauce in my tiny kitchen.

This whole combination made me so happy. The apples had the Chelan sticker on them which reminded me of our life on the lake and my friend Tracy who taught me to make applesauce and apple butter. I purchased the knife at Culinary Apple on Main Street and kept thinking I was going to give it as a gift until Ralph fell in love with it.

My crockpot where the apples simmered is 25 years old and I've carried it with me from house to RV to house. (I can't find my two immersion blenders. Sis?) So it reminds me of my darling Ralph.

Ralph helping out in Chelan.

And the movie, of course, reminds me of Ralph as well, and Paris and cooking and everything that we loved together. And that I now love.

So day one of social distancing was filled with the aroma of apples wafting through my tiny apartment, Julia Child's (Meryl Streep) laugh and so many sweet memories.

Cooking while watching Julie/Julia

So far so good.

The Wandering Widow- Day 12

I could never have become a professional writer without Ralph Reed.

About 20 years ago I wrote for a fun magazine that my friend Crista McClure-Swan created for moms who worked from home. I wrote some articles and I had a column called The Reading Room where I reviewed books that I usually read in the tub.

 "The Reading Room," get it?

Anyway, I had always wanted to be a writer (I had always wanted to be an actress really, but some people put the kibosh on that!) and after writing for about a year for the magazine (Did I get paid? Maybe...) Ralph and I sat down and figured out how to make that dream a reality.

"Go ahead and quit your job (as a telephone sales rep- ugh) and figure it out," he said. "If you're published in a national publication, you're a writer. If not, maybe you need to find something else to do."

So two major things to remember: We needed two paychecks and...this was before the Internet, kids.

Off to the library, I went. I studied the Writer's Digest, the market and how to send a query- SASE. 

Within a few months, an article on spec I sent to a very old women's magazine published my story and sent me a check for $150!

I was on my way!

I'm still writing- although it's extremely difficult without my main editor and muse- I hope to continue until I meet up with him again.

 I'm sure he'll have a lot of story ideas by then for me.






 

The Wandering Widow- Day 4

Yesterday, I found myself crying over a lost cooler.

It wasn't just any cooler, it was Ralph's vintage Oscar Cooler by Coleman, circa 1981. I left it in Moab in the hotel parking lot and someone took it. I know this because I called the front desk four hours after leaving, but it was apparently gone.

I remember trying to get all my crap in the car in the same way I had fit it all in like a puzzle when I left San Diego. I fancy myself a good packer, but that was Ralph's thing-organizing- he even made a living at it. I usually end up tossing everything in at the end and calling it a day if the car doors will close.

I even went out in the night air of 5 degrees and emptied my car out again, thinking maybe I misplaced it- as if it was a shoe or a hairbrush.

 The last time Ralph used the cooler was on his 70th birthday at his beach party in August. In October, a month after he died, I needed to use the cooler and I opened it up to find it full of beers. COLD BEERS!

 I knew that I could get rid of all our other coolers because this one would now be mine.

And straight out of the chute, I lost it.

 I could blame the medications I am on for severe bronchitis and altitude sickness, or widow brain, but in the end, it doesn't matter. I drove off and left it and someone took it.

I sat in the car and cried, and then I remembered it held a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream, an expensive bottle of Rombauer Chardonnay my friend gave me for Christmas and my freaking cough syrup- talk about insult to injury.

That just pissed me off.

 I woke up this morning and thought about the cooler and realized that it was just a thing. I've thrown plenty of his belongings away already and the cooler, while it was a sweet memory, won't bring him back, it will just keep beers cold for a month.

 I'm learning to let go of things on this trip and I guess that was the first thing to go.

 Meanwhile, I'm sure his spirit followed the cooler culprit and gave him a flat tire, or at the very least, turned my fancy wine to vinegar.