Sunday evening. Thus endeth another weekend, and begins another workweek. So close to my vacation, though! Just 10 more business days…

I took a break from gaming to walk to a nearby park: one of the strange things about suburbs is that all the trees are young. There was no old growth, no branches lying on the ground, and no convenient chunks of wood to take home for whittling purposes. Ditto for the local Lowe’s: they had some hickory chunks for BBQs, but they were a) tiny, and b) made of the hardest wood on the market. I’m going to do my thrice-monthly raid on a grocery store tomorrow, so I might as well try out the Michael’s curbside pickup and get some basswood to practice on. (Is the lockdown life exciting or what?)

The news is more of the same old: at least four hospitals in Tampa, FL have run out of ICU beds. I used to live in Tampa. (I’ve lived in so many places…) Not a bad town, filled with mostly good people, who were likely failed by their inept government and its equally inept reassurances that it’s okay to come out and party. It’s a minor miracles that the Villages (a retirement community with over 100,000 elderly) haven’t been hit yet.

Speaking of my old haunts: the CHAZ, which I mentioned earlier, is no more. Seattle’s tiny rebellious community got flooded with the police four days ago. Depending on your level of cynicism, that was caused by either a) far too many shootings and either violent crime in and near CHAZ, or b) the fact that a mob of protesters found the mayor’s address (allegedly provided by a rebellious councilwoman) and spraypainted her fence, or c) all of the above. Either way, there goes another somewhat-covid-related cultural artifact.

I can only wonder what strange news this coming week will bring.