Mask Crafts

I've spent quite a bit of time on designing and sewing masks. I've been through several different designs, surfed around on the 'net, watched a bunch of youtube videos, ventured onto pinterest.

The first masks I made back in April were being done when supplies were not widely available, and a general call came out from some hospitals asking for masks. I ransacked my house. I hauled out my old sewing machine (bought in 1981) and I found some elastic and threads. I had some bits and pieces of fabrics from projects planned and never done. I also looked in my clothes closet and linen closet, finding cotton clothes and old pillow cases that could go into masks.A very basic rectangular design, with two layers of cotton, 2-3 folds and ear loops were the basic starting point. The first one took a few hours, subsequent ones came more quickly. I supplied three each to my local family members. 

Too matchy-matchy?
But an excellent all-day fit

Then I started wearing the masks. More and more evidence indicated they were a good thing, with more suggestions on the best materials. I realized the masks I had made first had some flaws. As a wearer of glasses, often during masked walks my glasses were steamy. I had a few occasions when I had to wear the mask along with my hearing aids, and ear loops were no good. I noted comments on TLo about how one should up their mask game for fashion purposes. I also found I liked sewing them. Making the masks became a creative outlet, requiring engineering skills and allowing some artistic license. 

I bought a new sewing machine (after forty years, what the heck). I have serious sewing friends who have very expensive machines, but when I went online I found new, apparently adequate, machines from brands I never heard of for even less than $100. The top-rated one at Wirecutter was sold out everywhere (hello, apocalypse thinking), but I got an "also good" Singer heavy duty. It doesn't squeal when the wheels go round, but otherwise seems the equivalent of my old machine.

White hair and black mask
But a good fit

So here are attributes of a well-designed mask: the fit from the bridge of your nose to under your chin is important. (My family varies from 4.75" to 5.75" in that measurement.) It is helpful, especially for glasses, to have a shaper over the nose, bending the mask to follow the face's contour. I worked with some pipe cleaners I had in the house, but then bought purpose-made metal strips on-line. It's important to have fabric layers as padding under the metal strips. It's good to have some space between your mouth and the mask, which requires some structure to be built in (the rectangular masks do not do that well). If the side of the mask is done as a sheath, the ties or elastic aren't sewn in but instead threaded - they can be replaced easily - and so a mask can convert from ear loops to behind your head fastenings. Two layers is good, and the inner layer should be soft. Three layers is better, but you don't want a big bump of fabric seams piling up on top of your nose, especially if you wear glasses. Cotton is universal, but a silk lining helps with comfort, facilitating breathing while still efficiently trapping particles (and adding warmth when outdoors). A lazy, quick mask can be made out of tshirts by just cutting ear loops right into the mask itself.

So now I pick up pieces of fabric, stack them double or triple, and first look at a light bulb through the stack. If I can see the outline clearly, it's a no-go. Then, I hold the stack over my nose and mouth and try nose breathing through it. If that works, I'm in business! I'm venturing into new pieces of fabric, aiming at fashion now that I have the basics of structural design down. I have a feeling we'll be wearing them for a while now.

Enough About the World. What About ME?

One way I've been coping with our crazy world is by turning ever more inward. Here is an update on some of the things I track, adding September and October since the last time I reported.

These measure how active I am. (More green is better.) Generally I'm trending upward, though I managed to do an insane amount of walking in July and am not likely to match that. I do have some very low days, and days when I feel like moving but manage to sit down until the urge passes. Everything except intentional miles walked is lower than last year, and I want to try to reverse that. I foolishly do not use my home gym very often, and I'm feeling the effects of not doing strength exercises. Also, I'm not biking or running but I'm leaving the rows in because I might.

Weight is one area where I'm doing better than last year, though not stellar. Not only have I avoided the Covid 15, but I'm slightly down, and tracking pretty often.

My mind and body are doing ok. A highlight is that migraine hours are down. Meditation is up, driven by the anxiety I felt over the state of the world. My sleep typically is least during the light months of the summer, and is slowly increasing as it is getting dark.

 

 My distraction and entertainment continue. I'm reading a lot of books, and listening to them too. I'm not much downtown, but have kept a steady set of sailing dates.

 

 Money is generally going ok. I still think I spend a ridiculous amount on food, but it's getting a bit better. At least I've stopped buying clothes that I have no place to wear. (Not shown: the money I spent on lap blankets and throws so I can huddle up and stay warm while wearing my jammies all day.)

 

Relief

The Wall - the WH is through the fence

What a roller coaster this past week has been! It feels like the longest week of the year. But at least it's over.

I try to ration my news, and isolate myself from useless nattering. So I didn't pay very much attention to updates during the day on Tuesday - I checked to see if there were reports of widespread election violence (there weren't) and aside from that, I knew there would be no actual election outcomes until later. So I had my quiet day in the lovely weather. After supper, I went down into the basement and sewed, while watching my absolute favorite movie of all time: The Russians are Coming, The Russians are Coming! It has stood the test of time, still the best ever.

I checked the NY Times and Wash Post websites just before bed. Nothing clear, as expected. My staying up would do nothing to change anything, so night night.

I had set up the coffee pot for the morning, so I got up at my normal 6:30 on Wednesday morning, poured the first cup, and sat down with the ipad. I was horrified. Until I read the headlines, I hadn't realized how much I had allowed myself to buy into the Blue Wave. Things were looking bad - the Post actually forecasting a Trump win, the Times more neutral. Down ballot losses everywhere. An incredibly powerful Facebook live post from a Black episcopal priest I know was full of despair and anger. Even if Biden manages to eke it out, he said, this is the nation we live in. Nearly half of all voters are stupid racists, or else think being a stupid racist is not disqualifying.  I curled into a ball and panicked.

I've discovered spending a few minutes catastrophising a situation is actually helpful to me. I contemplate a worst case scenario, and play it out in my head. So I allowed myself to go there. What does this mean for me and my family and friends? Me, I'll be mostly fine. My family and friends, not so much. For the country, for our institutions, for life as I have known it, a disaster. Having spent just a few minutes there, I put it away for a while.

Black Lives Matter Plaza - my first visit

Compartmentalizing. Shrugging things off until they can't be ignored. I can do that. So I put myself on a schedule of no more often than every two hours to check in on the news. I spent time outside, gardening, but couldn't really get into any projects of any depth. I kept moving, though, not able to settle down into a book or anything else.

Thursday and Friday continued in a similar pattern, but my anxiety about the worst case eased. It seemed it would be a matter of time before it would be widely acknowledged that Biden had a solid enough lead. The weather remained remarkably fine, and I spent a great deal of time outside.

So the news came Saturday, from a text from my friend while I was eating lunch: Clanging pots and bowls in the yard! Knowing what it must mean, I grabbed the ipad and poked the Post and then the Times. Then I pushed my food away and put down my head on the table and wept. Really. Big wracking sobs. Enough to worry the dog, who painfully arose to come over and check on me.

But the feeling is relief, not joy. Relief at dodging the worst case scenario. Immense pleasure at seeing the glass ceiling break for our Vice President. But we squeeked by. I was never a fan of Joe Biden (though he struck a lovely note at his address last night). Going back to the way things used to be is unacceptable. We have to move forward, but we are a nation divided, and not all the haters are old and about to die though they sure are doing their best to put themselves and everyone else in harm's way.

I have a horror of crowds, and so avoid most demonstrations. There are times when my body on the line might make a difference, but for me the barrier is pretty high. So my celebration was at daybreak today, down at the White House. Relief at putting the worst behind us, and more work to do.

Fall, On Balance

The past couple of days have helped crystallize for me what I dislike about Fall, as a season. I've got two major dislikes. One is obviously the dark - we changed time yesterday, but that doesn't affect the actual day length, which is shorter and shorter. But, getting dark earlier by the clock feels like the days are suddenly much shorter. And dark, cloudy, days with no blue sky feel like they are more likely. (I don't know the truth of that last sentence, for here in the mid-Atlantic. I do know that very little sunshine in the fall or early winter is absolutely true for the upper midwest where I lived for a long time.)

The second big annoyance is, perhaps surprisingly, not the cold per se. It is the separation between inside and outside that the cold brings that is much more of a problem for me. 

So ok, of course I dislike being cold. I dislike it a lot. But I have invested in really good cold weather clothes. I had all my heating ducts in the house re-routed two years ago (as part of the basement reno) to make my forced-air heat much more effective. I don't actually need to feel cold, at all. But it takes work to stay warm!

In the summer, I have literally rolled out of bed, slipped on a pair of flip flops, leashed the dog and gone around the block in the shorts and tee I slept in. Almost always some of the first cup of coffee are drunk on the patio, staring down into the foliage above the park. I leave windows wide open as much as possible, minimizing my use of air conditioning. I'm in and out all day, as likely to sit and read (or blog) while outside as in. 

This very blustery but sunny morning, I had to prep to get the dog around the block. I had to think what to wear - am I going to be outside long enough in cold enough weather to need my lined pants? How many layers of tops do I need? Socks, shoes, which ones? Where is my hat? Where are my gloves? My yard is fenced, so the dog can just go out, except he is partially blind and he needs me to light up the yard for him at night, which means my being out there with him. (He runs into things and can't find his way back to the door without help.)  It's a barrier to getting to enjoy the outside. Once I was out this morning it was terrific - the gale force winds are exhilarating, the foliage is so nice - but there was a real break between inside and out. 

I don't want to focus on the negatives, however. I could find more to complain about this season (bad memories, among them) but I'm trying hard not to go there. While Spring is totally my favorite season, with the above two factors (light and access to the outdoors) steadily increasing the whole time, here follow many positive attributes that make me like Fall.

The Light. Yes, there is less of it, overall, but the colors! The brilliance! The foggy wisps revealing bits of foliage!

Sunshine in my yard and house. My yard is very shady, but as the leaves go, the direct sun increases. Add to that the lower angle of the sun and it penetrates inside my house very efficiently.

Hygge. To me, that mostly translates to a fire and a good drink before it.

Brassicas and other seasonal foods. I love me some brussels sprouts, cauliflower, and cabbage. This is the season! Brussels, bacon, apples, onions, and sweet potato sauteed together - is there anything finer?

Holidays. I’m not such a fan of Halloween, but Columbus Day and Veterans Day were great breaks from work. We’ve got three birthdays in November, and of course, the very best holiday ever: Thanksgiving. And prepping for Christmas. All good things. I’m more likely to see my adult kids around for few days.

Happiness is at least partly a choice, I’ve learned, and I’m trying my best. 

Jury Duty

Imagine my surprise a few weeks ago to receive a jury summons in the mail! What? Really? Fresh in my memory was the experience of a New Jersey-based journalist of my (virtual) acquaintance who was summoned in the very early days of quarantine. He tweeted photos of the crowded conditions - and remember this is before we knew to mask. The very next day, as I recall, his location suspended jury trials.

It turns out my county decided to resume jury trials in October. They probably made that decision before all the county-level indicators started ticking up later in the fall. At any rate, they are pressing on, though slowly and cautiously.  Is it cautiously enough? 

I believe firmly that trial by jury is part of what makes America great. I've been called to jury duty half a dozen times, and actually served three times back when I lived in Chicago. The mere fact that I show up without an attitude to get out of it probably has a lot to do with my history of getting seated. Frankly, I've never understood that attitude. Why do people hate jury duty? Back when I was working, it was a welcome and unimpeachable excuse to have a break in the routine. I have an admittedly high tolerance for waiting around - back in the day, I'd bring a stack of magazines and jettison as I went. Now, of course, the phone or ipad work great. And, when involved in a trial, people's stories are interesting. The glimpse into other lives can be fascinating. I read mysteries and love me a TV courtroom drama, so to get to be there is cool. And, of course, I have a pretty strong sense of civic responsibility, and this shows some of our finest (and not so fine) systems at work.

So I faithfully showed up as summoned on Tuesday morning last week. I'd been summoned once before to that location, so I had the logistics of parking and finding the building all worked out. But clothes! What does one wear to be on a jury? And, setting the alarm, to be up and out on a schedule. I set three alarms, just to be certain. I decided what to wear the night before (a time saving trick from my working days) but ended up changing my tops three times. I went for comfort over style, choosing my dressiest yoga pants (an oxymoron?) and a relatively dressy fleece sweater over a plain tee. I left my beloved hoodie and flannel shirts behind.

The summons included the instruction for full time masking, and I brought a few with me, to be able to swap out if I was there all day. The entrance to the court building was next to another county building with a polling place, and there was a line there. But I found my way into the court building, where they took my temperature and ran through a quick verbal checklist ("have you recently travelled out of state? been to any non-socially distanced parties? ...") before screening me through security. In the huge juror's lounge, they checked me in without touching me, having me toss the pen I used to sign their sheet into a box lined with disinfectant wipes. They handed me an envelope with fifteen dollars in cash and a letter suitable for showing an employer, testifying to my appearance. 

The huge juror lounge had specific seats marked off for sitting. At checkin, they handed me a full sheet of paper holding only my new number, 19. They pointed in the general direction of the seats, and I found the seat with a large #19 on its back. It turns out, each row of a dozen fixed seats were set to hold two people, and the position along the row was staggered so no-one was directly in front of anyone else. So I settled in to my seat and started on my electronic magazines. 

After a while, someone at the front of the room attracted our attention, and started to call numbers. Each person had to hold up their number when called to be recorded. They ended up calling about 45 people, half the jury pool there, and then lined them up and took them to a courtroom for voir dire. They were asked to walk six feet apart, and the elevators had designated spots to stand in, only four at a time, so I imagine their trip took a while to get there and get settled. 

I figured by this time I'd spent about 90 minutes in a room with about 100 people total in it. The only public buildings I've been in since March are supermarkets and hardware stores, usually off peak and with very high ceilings and good ventilation. In the jury room we were well spaced out, and 100 percent masked. A casual survey of masks showed more than two-thirds in disposable paper masks (mostly the pleated surgical kind, a few N95 types), and others in cloth masks. But, we don't much about about how the virus spreads. How good, what type, of ventilation system did the room and building have? I have no idea.

So then for us, the other half of the jury pool, they brought the lawyers and judge to us for voir dire. They asked a series of questions about our past history and whether we knew specific people. If our answer to anything was "yes", we held up our number cards and they recorded us for individual questions later. It became clear from the nature of the questions that the case was a civil lawsuit stemming from an auto accident. Of course it was.

So then, they called us in one-by-one to a smaller room just off the big one, where the judge asked for the details on the questions we had flagged. After my questioning, I returned to my seat and my magazines. 

Finally, the big denouement. The clerk started to call numbers, and the big question in everybody's mind: Are we selected or excused? As it turns out, I was selected. Of course I was.  

By now, three hours had passed. The others left (I was glad to have fewer people around) and it was our turn, the eight of us, to line up and go by fours up to the court room. Then, more waiting around. At some point, we'd been told to turn off our devices, and I cursed myself for not having thought to bring an actual book book or magazine. It appeared our trial was the only activity on the entire floor, and I was relieved to have even fewer people around. There was a long corridor with floor to ceiling windows and it was great to get to walk back and forth and see some actual daylight. One juror went in to talk to the judge alone, and then we were seven jurors, six women and one man. 

Finally, into the courtroom. The jury box, built to hold fourteen, had seats blocked off for three to sit in each of two rows. Very comfortable fixed but swiveling seats, with a waist-high wooden wall in front and clear plastic sheets suspended between the rows. One poor juror had to sit in front of the jury box, on the courtroom floor, where she felt like she was on display. She had to sit nicely (we could put our feet up on the wall in front of us) and she felt the need to be alert and taking notes all the time. So now, in our courtroom, there were the seven jurors, and about ten others (plus some witnesses).

The judge thanked us constantly for being there, and revealed this was his first jury trial since March. He explained things clearly, interpreting some of the lawyers' motions for us along the way. He's not on the ballot this year, but I'd vote for him again. His clerk had recently taken the bar, remotely, and noted there might be less reciprocity than in previous years because it was a truncated exam.

So the case itself was a rear-end collision, three years ago, and the plaintiffs were suing the driver that hit them for whiplash. We heard testimony from doctors and chiropractors, the plaintiffs and defendant. It seemed to me none of the lawyers were any good - but maybe I watch too much TV. Certainly, two of them failed to read the room - with a jury of six women and one man, do you really need to emphasize the boxing league credentials of one doctor, or pepper your speech with a flood of football analogies? 

I used my car as my portable bubble, and ate my lunch there every day. Two of three days I also walked, but the last day the remnants of a hurricane swept through so I just read in the car. With temperatures in the 60s every day, the car was nice secure little space to be unmasked.

After two-and-a-half days of testimony (and a lot of waiting around in the hallway) on the afternoon of the third day we went to the jury room to deliberate. (Just before that, the poor woman who sat in front was designated the alternate that could be released - we only needed six for the decision.) It was really interesting to hear what others were thinking. We had of course started to warm up to each other during our interminable waits, what do you do, where do you live, etc., but of course hadn't started to talk about the trial. Some thought the plaintiffs were totally faking, others had more sympathy for the fact their lives had been upended when a car struck them out of the blue. We took about 90 minutes, and ended up splitting the baby. We didn't give the plaintiffs everything they asked for, but we gave them something. And we all agreed on which was the sleaziest doctor!

So now, I've imposed a (modified) quarantine on myself. I never felt the situation was clearly unsafe, but it also was clearly much riskier in terms of virus exposure than my normal life. My sailing partner and I discussed it, and we agreed to wear masks all the time we were together yesterday, even though all summer we didn't mask up on the boat. (As it turns out, it was cold and so the mask was not unwelcome.) I double-masked at the grocery store this morning, and will mask when I see my girl for her birthday tomorrow. I'm postponing some errands, banking, etc.. I figure after a week or maybe ten days, I should go for a test. When I get the results, then I'll declare myself clear.

The frustrating thing is I keep having to postpone my hair appointment, to get new color! I figure I shouldn't put them at risk, even through a mask, until I'm clear.

(I voted, I'm ignoring the fact life as we know it may change in a couple of days.)