Today, for the first time in ages, I’m making a pot of Uncle Art’s chili beans. It’s almost noon, time to get started. That’s an old photo of the last batch. Watch my Instagram for new photos, which I’ll post later today.
Before hitting the kitchen, I’ll share a couple of things weighing on my mind.
Probably everyone realizes this is going to be a momentous week. Not just with today’s runoff election in Georgia — an election that’ll determine which party controls the Senate during Biden’s first term — but with Republican promises to contest what should be the routine Congressional acceptance of Electoral College results tomorrow. I’m hoping the actual inauguration of our new president and vice president, 15 days from now, will be an anticlimax. God, that sounds naive, doesn’t it?
I’m trying to set up our annual homeowners’ association meeting. In past years we’ve held it at the local library, but that’s out. The other board members and I considered asking neighbors to bring lawn chairs to an outdoor meeting at the end of one of our cul-de-sacs, but there are a few committed anti-maskers among us and I fear they’ll pose a danger to others.
I’m planning to announce a remote meeting by Zoom one evening toward the end of the month. Word must be leaking out, because I’m starting to get flak about it. If I give in and announce an outdoor meeting instead, no doubt I’ll hear from pro-Zoomers. Haven’t had this much fun since my working days, trying to get competing factions to agree on dates and times for regular old sit-around-a-conference-table meetings, the kind our grandchildren will read about in history books (hey, we can hope).
Last week two friends were injured in unrelated accidents, both seriously enough to require ambulance rides and hospitalization. My second reaction, after “oh no,” was to hope they get treated and released as quickly as possible, and avoid exposure to COVID while they’re in. I realize I’m asking for a lot here, but damn, the news doesn’t have to be all bad, all the time … does it?