vaccine sirens and lights culminate in outdoor pizza rainbow
the end of an error
“I wonder if Floridians will notice the arrival of a twice impeached, twitter-less pensioner who cheats at golf.” I commented, happily.
“Maybe he’ll just fade away.” Nazy replied. “And one day, like a miracle he’ll be completely gone,”
“He was already gonzo,” I ‘agreed’. “But, I’d prefer conviction and bankruptcy,” I thought as Nazy and I walked along the oceanside.
Here in Santa Barbara vaccinations have begun. We’re only missing ..
“… vaccine and a plan …” I thought.
Pfizer has already increased supply by 20%.
“How did they do that, Dan?” Nazy asked.
“They told the doctors that there are six doses (instead of five) in each vaccine vial.”
“That’s not really increasing production..”
“No, but it does increase revenue: they get paid ‘per dose’.”
Over lunch, Tiger and Arrow asked ….
“What does the vaccination do Dan?”
“Your body has lots of little police swimming around in your blood looking for things that don’t belong. Corona virus has a very good disguise, so the little police don’t see them very well. And the Corona virus has a key that lets it open doors in your body where it can grow. The vaccine gives the police a special flashlight that shows makes corona virus light up and the vaccine gives police a jar of yellow super glue that they can use to make the virus keys too sticky to work.”
“Dan is that…”
“So, after I get a vaccination, if you come close to me, you’ll hear all those police cars zooming around in my blood looking for Corona virus. The sirens will be loud..”
“Are you joking, Dan?” Arrow asked.
“So, not only will you hear the sirens,” I continued. “if you turn out the lights, you’ll be able to see the blue lights on the police cars zooming around in my arm. You’ll also see yellow blobs where the super glue has globbed up the virus keys.
“Dan!” Arrow interjected.
“And then, your body will send a bunch of dump trucks that go around picking up anything with a yellow blob stuck on a key. Then they get rid of the ones they pick up”
“How do they..”
“They can make you sneeze them out. Or they can dump them in your p..”
“Dan!” Nazy interrupted. “This is ..”
“Is Dan joking?” Arrow asked.
“Dan is joking you, Arrow.” Nazy responded.
“Then we just have to vacuum that pile of globby virus and throw it into the fire.” Tiger concluded.
… which conveniently brings me to the Pizza Oven.
As regular readers know, the first attempt to construction an outdoor pizza oven suffered catastrophic collapse caused by spherical sand grains, malformed dirt bricks and a bad idea..
“Bad idea, Dad?” Mitra, construction project manager, asked. “What bad idea?”
“You started a fire inside the oven.”
“We wanted to cook a pizza.”
“It would have been safer to wait for a delivery van or a hotplate. I was dragging the extension cord your way when the fire caused the structure to implode.”
In the ensuing two weeks, the site has been repaired, debris and detritus has been removed, new ‘pointy’ sand has been acquired and construction instructions have been read. Progress has been made and (hopefully not premature) celebrations have begun.
The project involved building a framework of tightly packed, hand-made adobe bricks around a dome-shaped pile of sand.
“You can tell that the bricks are ready if you’ve squeezed them 100 times. And, then, when you drop them from shoulder height, they should deform slightly, Not break or crack.”
“Hmm,” I thought. “It will be easier to drop them from Arrow’s shoulder height.”
Luckily, Tom, Melika, Mitra and the children, rather than me and Nazy, handled the brick making. (I was fine with making bricks — except for the part about getting your hands dirty.) They packed the bricks over the sand doom, tightly sealing each crevice. Then, after giving the bricks time to dry, Mitra cut out a door and then began removing the sand. The dome shape remained. But..
“.. I think you’ll need a bigger door,” I noted. “Unless we have mini-pizza’s.”
The door got larger and we realized that, as the saying goes, “proof of the pudding is in the tasting”.
“Which means,” I explained. “that we’ll need to make a pizza in the oven.”
“We have to fire the oven first, Dad.” Mitra explained. “And we have to hope the it doesn’t collapse,” Mitra thought.
The big day dawned ..
“ … with an 80% chance of rain,” Nazy noted.
The team immediately consulted Funk and Wagnalls to confirm the meaning of the unusual word (‘rain&rsquo
. Then …
“… water falling from the sky? Sounds unlikely to me.”
However, since precipitation was expected in the afternoon, the firing and cooking was moved to earlier in the day. A tarp was prepared to protect the oven and umbrellas were positioned for the staff and the pizzas. We had one final issue…
“Do we just put the pizza on the floor of the oven?” Mitra asked.
“Isn’t it a dirt floor?” I replied.
“Yes, but because of the firing process.. “
“…it will be clean dirt?” I replied.
“I think you should use a flat, thin metal plate,” Nazy interjected. “And I have a few.”
The oven was really hot (we also used it to bake potatoes). And the pizza, which Nazy prepared for baking, tasted great. Tiger made many, many trips between the upstairs kitchen and the outside oven. And then, as we were ready to eat, a rainbow became visible right form The Adams Family home.
After a month-long stay here in Santa Barbara, Mitra, who spearheaded the pizza oven project, is heading home. She always brings joy and interesting (albeit somewhat unusual) projects when she comes.
In a couple of months, assuming expeditious rollout of the vaccine and better containment of the virus, Darius, Christiane and the little girls will be coming for a visit. Although we talk to them frequently on Zoom and Whatsapp, we really want to see them in person.
For last week's letter, please click here
Christiane and Auriane