Joy In 2020

Christmas is coming In less than a week,

 We’re hoping to find

 The joy that we seek,

 It’s not in the lights

 Or ribbons and bows,

 Nor is it found with

 A reindeer’s red nose,

 The Grinch found the answer,

 Guess he’s pretty smart,

 We must find that joy,

 In each other’s heart.

 As Christmas rushes at us this year, I’m having difficulty finding joy in anything. I’m feeling like the Grinch. It’s been a rough one, this year; it’s been a year of loss in many ways both personally and collectively for us all. We lost our ability to connect with each other on a daily basis and, trapped each in their own little world it became harder to see and understand what is happening with friends, family and strangers. Technology can help us keep in touch, but there are so many nuances lost by being separated as we have been and still are. While there is hope that we can begin to come together in person in the coming months, it is not something we can safely do right now.

 I guess I didn’t realize how much I depended on the day to day interactions I used to have with people. The quick kibitzing at work with my coworkers and customers, encounters with my fellow shoppers at the supermarket, and getting together with friends at a restaurant or coffee shop are all things that I am missing. Zooming and texting are good ways to keep in touch, but you can’t always pick up on a mood when communicating electronically. The anonymity of wearing a mask whenever in public is disconcerting. With only the eyes showing, it’s hard to tell if someone is smiling, relaxed, frowning, or tense when you’re out at the supermarket for instance. Our voices are muffled behind the masks and that makes it harder to pick up on how someone is doing as some inflection is lost in the mouth covering. It feels lonely to me, even when I’m out at the store. We are standing apart when in line, trying to avoid each other in the aisles and the parking lot, and there’s a barrier between us and the cashier. It’s an isolating experience.

 So how can we find the joy of the season in each other’s hearts this year? We can keep trying to connect, and learn how to read the nuances of someone wearing a face covering, talking on a delay in a zoom meeting, or including emojis in text messages. We’re all humans and we are adaptable, we are determined to find a way to connect with others no matter what. So we wave to each other from a distance, we share memes and jokes over texts; we tell each other the news of our lives and share our thoughts. We find things in common to connect through times when we cannot be in each other’s physical company.

 This whole year has been different and challenging, we shouldn’t really expect the Christmas season to be any easier. We can, however learn a new way to spread our joy and love for each other. Reaching out in different ways bridges the gap until it is safe, once again, to hug, shake hands, sit elbow to elbow around a table, and walk arm in arm. I wish for you joy this Christmas, and for you to find a way to share it with others. Sharing multiplies it, makes it bigger, just as the Grinch’s heart grew 3 sizes when he realized the meaning of Christmas.

Cookie Magic

Recently I spent a Sunday afternoon baking for Christmas. I look forward every year to baking a few different types of cookies and a fruitcake or two to help make the holiday season special. The recipes I use are mostly handed down through family, some from my side, and some from my husband’s. Sure, I could make them any time of the year, but by keeping them for this time of the year makes them more of a treat. I love cookies, and I am not alone. It seems that everyone brightens up when there are homemade cookies around. I know that if someone surprises me with some I am a happy camper! As much as I love being gifted with cookies, I love giving them to others. It seems like even just a picture of cookies causes a positive reaction, judging by the responses to pictures of the cookies I baked that I posted on social media. It made me wonder, what is it about just the mention of them that causes a bit of happiness? I can only speak from my own experience here, as I am not any kind of psychoanalyst or therapist, but I think those little tasty morsels feel like love. I feel cozy inside, like when I was a child and walking in the door after school to the scent of chocolate chip or sugar cookies baking. What’s more comforting than a plate of cookies and a glass of ice cold milk or a steaming cup of hot cocoa when you’re feeling depleted in the afternoon? Of course now that I’m an adult I’m more likely to have a cup of tea or coffee at hand with my discs of deliciousness. If I kept all the cookies I baked I would be in trouble with the doctor, not to mention the clothes in my closet! So I like to share them. This year, of course, I can’t take some into work as I normally would because I’ve not worked since everything shut down around here in March. So I decided that I will share them some other way. I can surprise the neighbors, send some into work with my husband, take some to my daughter, and give her some for her coworkers. Spread the love around, that’s what I say. How about those folks that you used to be friends with but simply grew apart from so that you only exchange a word here or there or holiday cards? Wouldn’t they be pleasantly surprised with a gift of your homemade cookies? How about your doctor’s office, your town police, librarians, or even the post office? Wouldn’t the workers enjoy a little unexpected thoughtfulness? Have you had a falling out over politics with someone you used to enjoy being with? Maybe the gift of some freshly baked morsels would help you both remember that you actually do like each other and perhaps put aside the things that separate you and find things you have in common again—like gingersnaps or brownies. You never know until you try. I know that cookies aren’t going to bring about world peace, or solve all the many problems in the world, but gee, it’s nice to think that you could have a few moments of calm, and share the feeling with just the right blend of flour, sugar, and butter. I wish for you this Christmas season cookies; whether you make them or you are given them, they can bring you some momentary joy.

Thanksgiving 2020

 Thanksgiving may be different,

For many this year, sad,

We miss the ones not with us,

But for those still here we’re glad,

We may not be together 

As we have been in the past,

We’ll help each other through this,

Until we can be together at last.

There’s no denying that this year everything is different, and usually not in a way we ever thought things would be. While it was disappointing to be planning a small feast instead of the bigger one we usually have, there were still bright spots to the day.

To start with, the food was delicious and the scent of roasting turkey filled the air while we watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. Although I feel that the broadcasters and performers had a slight air of desperate happiness about them, they did a good job making it seem like the extravaganza it usually is. It must have felt really strange to have silent, empty streets where there are usually noisy crowds cheering and clapping as they proceeded down the route. Also strange feeling was the lack of marching bands one would typically have in the parade. All in all, they did a good job of keeping up a much loved tradition in an untraditional year.

Our food was delicious and we ate our fill. There’s plenty of leftovers for future meals which is nice as it will give me a break from cooking for a few days. After we ate and rested a bit, my older daughter and I headed outside to put up the Christmas decorations. It was quite balmy out, so no need for coats and no frozen fingers fumbling with the lights. While we were outside the adorable little family that lives on one side of us came over to give us some of the most beautiful and delicious cake pops that they made. It was a nice surprise and very much appreciated. They were also hanging Christmas lights this afternoon. The house across the street put theirs up a week ago, and an extended family member who was visiting them today told us our lights look nice. I am so thankful to have nice neighbors!

We ended our day with coffee and desserts, and watching Jeopardy! and Wheel of Fortune together. There was, of course, all day texting going on with various family members and friends. Even though we couldn’t all be together, we were able to share parts of our day with each other. 

Next year we should be able to be together for Thanksgiving. This year we made the best of it, and it was still a nice day.

November Gift

 

Typically around here November is cool, most days in the lower 50’s or upper 40’s.  But we recently had about a week of the most beautiful weather—deep blue, cloudless skies and temperatures in the low to mid 70’s and no humidity.  It was such a gift, especially since I missed most of the gorgeous October weather we had due to the hospital adventure.  I took full advantage and spent time outside as much as possible, opened the windows in my house, fired up the grill and had a return to summer, (except for the very early time the sunsets now).  It was wonderful but it’s over.  We just had a few days of dreary, rainy, cooler weather to remind us that winter is on the way.  So, too, are the big holidays—Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve.

The holidays are going to be quite different this year, given the resurgence of the virus.  It would be a sad time anyhow, since it’s the first holiday season without my brother Dan.  Now it really won’t even feel like a holiday, something that has happened all this year since the pandemic hit.  At least in the summer we were able to be together outside with people we know and love.  It’s just how it has to be this year, and hopefully next year there will be a vaccine and some immunity so we’ll be able once again to gather together to feast and reminisce, laugh and tell stories from our family’s past.  I will still make the traditional feast for my husband, daughters, and myself but will make smaller amounts.  I’ll pull out the china and wine glasses, and we’ll be thankful that we at least are together.  Maybe we’ll call or facetime with the family that we’ll be missing.  It will feel strange, but it will still be good.

I hope that you all are going to have a good holiday season, and make the best of whatever your circumstances are at present. 

Home and November

Home. Home sweet home!  I didn't realize how much I loved being home until I wasn't able to be for a month.  That's how long I spent in the hospital with Hillary recently.  Getting coffee from the machine on the hospital unit she was in, or when their wasn't any, running down to the hospital cafeteria to grab a quick breakfast before any of the many doctors made their rounds was not the best way to start the day,  This picture is of the first breakfast I had at home in a month, and I ate it in my robe at my leisure and even had a second and third cup of coffee just because I could and without interruption.  It's true that we really do miss the little things and that there truly is no place like home, as Dorothy said in the Wizard of Oz movie.                                                                                                                                                   

The ghosts and goblins have come and gone                                                                                              

A new month starts with the dawn

This is the month we most give thanks

For veterans, voting, and (fill in the blanks),

Please don't rush through this month November,

Take your time so you can remember,

Everyone you are most thankful for,

Feeling thankful for them is not a chore.                                                                                                                    And now we are in November.  The voting has been done but the counting of ballots is still going on.  The  pandemic still rages across our country, as does controversy, mean spirited debate between ordinary citizens, and politicians acting like children who only want their way no matter what.  It is disheartening, and depressing.  So to combat all of that, I am trying to think of and look for the good, the positive, and uplifting, as well as losing myself in books and reruns of crime dramas just because I want to.  Right now the weather here is beautiful and sunny, and unseasonably warm.  We are trying to spend time outside while we can without freezing our noses off, because I know that one day soon we'll be shivering and hiding inside under blankets watching clouds roll in filled with either cold rain or snow, or worse yet, sleet and freezing rain.  Those are dark days to which I don't look forward,  For now I won't think about them and will just enjoy the beautiful weather, and write my little poems and things when I get the chance.  I intend to also be mindful of all that I have to be thankful for, such as Hillary's recovery, nice weather when we get it, road crews who treat the bad roads when the weather gets icy, the sound of my wind chimes ringing in the breeze, ingredients to make food for us to eat, and friends who check in, as well as family who are dear to me.  These are strange times we live in, and it's not easy to keep things upbeat. We try, and keep moving forward trying our best not to get discouraged.                                                                                    

                                                                                   

  

                                                                                                           

                                 

Halloween 2020

 ‘Neath the Blue Moon

Silhouettes dance

‘Round the fire

In a trance

Holding hands

Up high then low

Swaying always to and fro

Chant so slow 

Then pick up speed

Calling, calling

Happy Halloween!

I almost missed Halloween, like so many of this year’s special days it doesn’t feel special.  I do put out some decorations and get some little goody bags ready just in case any trick or treaters Caine to the door. This year not too many in my neighborhood are participating, if I go by how many houses have their outside light in. We’re the only house on the street with the light on.  On a normal Halloween we get maybe 7 trick or treaters. It’s so strange! When my girls were young the neighborhood was teeming with children of all ages. We mothers took the younger kids around and the fathers stayed home to give out the candy. When the kids were a little older either one or two mothers or fathers wrangled a group, or someone’s older sibling was tapped to supervise. Those were good times, I remember them fondly. Just as I remember trick or treating as a child with my brothers. There was one house that we went to first, where friends of my mother lived. They lived about 3 houses up the hill on the opposite side of the street. They were an older, childless couple who had a miniature white poodle named “Susie” who my younger brother and I spent time playing with while our mother visited with them. Their names were Ethel and Shorty. On Halloween they always had full sized Hershey bars for us, smaller bars for other kids. It was nice to feel special like that.  My older brothers took us out around the block, I don’t ever remember my parents taking us around. My mother handed out the candy to the kids who came to our door. I kind of miss those days, too.

There’s no doubt that this year, because of the pandemic, many things are very different from what we’re used to. I wonder if one day we’ll look back at these things that are so different and miss them. In some ways they are quieter and leave time for more introspection. Perhaps we’ll miss that aspect. It remains to be seen.

You Don’t Know Her

 We have been in the hospital for over 4 weeks.  My biggest problem with this hospital stay (aside from illness necessitating our stay) is the lack of consistency in her daily care. There are so very many doctors involved, and I feel as if they are sometimes working against each other. I believe they are trying to do their best, but they are unused to someone with such a complex history and constant needs. Having different nurses and nursing assistants caring for her also does not allow for consistency. They rely on their computerized charts which is all well and good, but if there is something that isn’t noted in the chart, or is for some reason not seen by the next shift, things fall through the cracks. Things like IV’s not restarted, medications not sent by the pharmacy at appropriate times, and lag times in care such diapering or positioning changes all lead to inadequate and potentially dangerous medical consequences. I do not fault the staff, as there are truly not enough of them working at any given time. They are doing their best, but with such a complex case it cannot be enough. This is why I stay, why I camp in this uncomfortable recliner that is terrible for my back & sleep in my clothes. It’s why I leave the building only when my husband is here with her, and grab very quick meals in the hospital cafeteria when he’s not. So when the staff tells me to go home and rest, and when I decline ask me if I don’t trust them, my short answer is no. It’s because you don’t know her like I do, you don’t understand her nonverbal sounds, her looks, her wants and needs. So I stay. And I will do so until I can take her home with me. I will ask you questions and tell you when I don’t agree, and will turn away from you rather than yell at you or slap you; I will act like a reasonable adult so you have no reason to brand me as “an emotional overreacting mother”. This is my child, who I have kept safe & healthy for decades, and plan to continue to do so as long as I breathe.

Here We Are

Hello, October, number ten

I’m glad to see you here again 

Cooler temps and brisker breezes

Hint that soon we’re in for freezes

I welcome them, your colors too

Also the time for soup and stew

Cozy blankets, sweaters, tea

These are things that comfort me

Changing seasons can be good

October brings a reflective mood.

Well here we are at October and this long year is finally heading toward its end.  This is my time of year, it feels good to be winding down from busy, hot, summer days. So far, however I have been unable to enjoy the golden sunshine, longer shadows and refreshing temperatures as I am camping out at the hospital with my daughter. She was quite ill, and as she is not able to communicate, here is where either I or my husband will be until she is well enough to leave. It’s been over 3 weeks since we drove her to the ER late in the evening on a Friday, and what an odyssey it has been!

I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on many things while we’ve been here. I’ve realized that one of the most important qualities in a healthcare provider is an open mind. Thankfully one of the doctors who is treating our precious girl is willing to truly listen to my thoughts on what’s going on medically with her, and act as a team in treating her using a combination of his education and expertise, and my knowledge and instincts as her mother and caregiver for 28 years. A doctor like this is a treasure. We have had a number of such doctors involved in her care over the years and it helps more than I can express. When doctors don’t truly listen and take into account my thoughts on proposed treatment and her medical history as well as anecdotal information that may not align with their experience, it is a frustrating thing. It can delay treatment and recovery unnecessarily because sometimes people’s illnesses don’t follow the case histories the professionals have studied. Medical science is constantly evolving and the open minded doctor is the one who will put patients and families at ease and build trust. When you feel respected you are more likely to accept difficult information and work with rather than against the medical professionals. Attitude is important as well. If someone comes in with a negative, resentful or superior attitude it sets up a kind of adversarial atmosphere that does not lead to teamwork. As we try to figure out this puzzle of my daughter’s health and work toward her release from hospital and return to home, I count on those open minded professionals and nurses with a caring, can-do attitude to keep things heading in the right direction. Prayer doesn’t hurt, either.

I don’t know when we will finally be able to leave here, but I pray it will be while there is still plenty of beautiful October weather to enjoy. It is my favorite time of year. But for now, here is where we are.

Late Summer

 

                             The last of the sweet 100's and pink roses through the deck rail.

I love the late summer days, those last few days in September before the calendar says Autumn begins.  Around here the humidity usually drops, the sun is at a noticeably lower angle, shadows are longer, days get shorter and the first cool nights and mornings feel refreshing rather than too cold.  It’s funny how the cooler temperatures feel refreshing in September but too cold in March. I guess I just welcome the change of seasons.

               Without the current pandemic situation, I’d be back at work at the beginning of September, getting lunch out to the students in our district, the high school students for the past 10 years.  I remember, though, that just when I had to return to work, the weather turned to the season I most enjoy and as I climbed behind the wheel to drive myself to work I sighed and looked wistfully at the lawn chairs, wishing I could stay home, pour another cup of coffee and enjoy the sights, sounds, and scents of the late summer mornings.  Well, my current and for the foreseeable future is that I can do just that.  I don’t like the reason that I’m free to do that now, but I sure do appreciate being able to do it!  There is a different sound to the chirping of the birds, a hushed quality to the sound of the traffic from the highway, and the neighborhood as well.  Leaves on the shrubs begin to turn colors before the trees, late blooms on the roses begin to fade, and there is sharpness to the breeze. The last of the summer tomatoes seem extra sweet, as if they have soaked up all the goodness of long sunny days. I enjoy it all.  Getting reacquainted with my long sleeve shirts, for me, is something I welcome.  The days feel less frenzied, perhaps because it’s time to turn my attention to indoor things, making sure the heaters are dust free so we can turn them on that first morning when the outdoor temperatures are in the 30’s and the house feels cold, cooking pots of chili, soups, and stew, and planning out the upcoming holidays—Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.  Yes, they will all be here before we know it.  Late summer feels like a new beginning, but maybe that’s because for so many years it signaled a return to routine, my girls going to school and me returning to work.  I guess I got so used to it that it’s hard to change now, even if I wanted to, which really I don’t.  Autumn and Winter are times of slowing down (despite the holidays) and an easier pace with time for rest and reflection.  By the time I’m tired of the cold weather, I’ll be ready for longer days and warmer breezes and the rejuvenation of the outdoors.

               Each season brings a chance to change things; live at a different pace.  This year I can fully appreciate the slower place the end of Summer brings.  I plan to enjoy it.

Icky Vicky

 

Icky Vicky

 

Icky Vicky is a spider

And I like her not

She lives outside my window

In an unreachable spot

In her web she undulated

As the wind played in the trees

I didn’t like to see that

It gave me slightly shaky knees

I noticed that she’s gone now

Where she went I do not know

It makes me a little nervous

When outside now I do go

I think I liked it better

When her position I could see

At least then I could be sure

She wasn’t near to me!

 

               It’s been a while since I wrote about spiders, because for the most part the last couple of years have been devoid of spiders in the areas I want to be outside, and not too many inside.  I truly hope it stays that way.  Vigilance in sweeping outside in the areas I inhabit has been key in keeping them at bay.  The broom simply redirects them to more appropriate areas for their web building and waiting for prey. Icky Vicky was out of reach, but well within my sight.

               I first noticed the huge web during a rain storm.  It encompassed the whole window and the raindrops highlighted it.  At first it was fascinating, even a beautiful work of art the way the drops looked like diamonds highlighting the intricacies of the weaving. Then I noticed Icky Vicky sitting in the middle, awaiting her prey.  Sometimes she would creep upward toward the right hand corner, only to move back to the middle, her spindly legs curling and uncurling as she moved.  When the sun came out she remained in the middle, and as the sun set it streamed into my living room so I closed the drapes.  Now we could plainly see the shadow of her and her web. I didn’t enjoy that, but really what could I do?  She stayed there for the better part of a week.  One day I noticed a fat fly was caught in her trap, and then she crept over and I tried to look away, unsuccessfully, while she feasted on the juicy morsel.  It was the day after that when I realized she had disappeared. It’s not the first time I had seen a monster like her, in years past I had to get rid of her kind because they were too close to where I have my patio garden and chairs.  I would then see them high above with a web strung between the cable and telephone lines which was fine, they weren’t bothering me there and I could keep an eye on them so I knew where they were.  I still don’t know where she went because there are no huge weavings between the lines above this year.  I doubt she went far, I think it’s likely that after she ate she crept away to lay eggs and then simply died. I fully expect that next year the spawn of Icky Vicky will decorate my window the way she did. Of course, she’s not the only one of her ilk that I’ve seen this summer, she’s just the largest. For the most part I have, as I said, relocated those who choose to lay their insect trap too close to my outdoor living areas.  There is one that I recently killed with insect spray because I walked out onto the back deck one morning to get a breath of early morning air and walked into a huge web in which it was sitting.  Yuck!  I made a hasty retreat into the house and grabbed the can of spray.  Sorry, spider lovers, but that one didn’t make it.  Later I went and swept the web away.  Things had been pretty quiet until my next door neighbor had a load of firewood delivered and stacked on the edge of her driveway which is pretty close to my driveway.  It was only a couple of days before I noticed an increase in the tiger striped monsters hanging out on our cars and that side of the house.  My broom as well as sticks have been very busy relocating the invaders.  As I’m twirling the threads around a stick before tossing it away from the house or car I wonder what the neighbors think I’m doing.  I imagine it looks funny, like I’m waving a magic wand and casting a spell or something.  I wish I could cast a spider be gone spell on my house and property so I wouldn’t be bothered with those nasty little creeps.  I’ll have to make do with my current removal methods, I guess.

               I realize that spiders play an important role in nature, but I don’t have to like them. If they just keep their distance we will live in peace.

 

Rainy Days and Messages

 

 

Pitter patter morning rain

Invites me to lie abed

Extends night time

Into the day with a

Lullaby to fill my head

With thoughts of cozy

Things like toast

And the fragrant brew

I crave the most.

 

               It can be tough to get out of bed on a rainy morning.  The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and knowing that it’s darker than usual outside make us snuggle deeper into the nest of our  pillows and blankets in an effort to extend the sanctuary of safety and comfort we have in our beds.  Sometimes we’re lucky enough to be able to give in to the desire to stay nestled and hidden from the world for a little while longer, and what a delightful thing that is!  It’s almost like the universe is telling us to take a little time to rest and recharge; we should listen to that message.  Sometimes we repeatedly ignore the messages from the universe, so it throws a brick at us.  I sometimes joke that the shutdown was a way for the universe to make me listen once, and for all.

               For the past couple of years, getting things together in the morning and getting to work on time have been a challenge.  Between weather issues, day program for my daughter transportation issues, fatigue, road closures, aches and pains, and various other things it seemed like the universe was trying to tell me to forget about working.  Yet I persisted, handled each challenge, got to work (not always on time, but my employer is quite understanding), and managed to keep everything running.  I just figured that some years are like that—constant challenges and roadblocks that we must overcome in order to survive.  Well, now I have no choice but to be home.  I am liking it!  Although I miss the crew I worked with, and the job itself, I don’t miss the aches and pains that became my normal way of feeling, and the exhaustion that came along with it.  I realize now just how wearying juggling all those things was for me.  This shutdown has helped me see that something had to give.  The job was the obvious choice for making a difference in my life.  It was the only thing I was able to give up without major, catastrophic personal fallout.  Of course I also miss the income, but adjustments can be made.  It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it now that I see how much easier my life is, how much less complicated.

               Rainy days are the perfect time for me to reflect on things that have changed for me recently, and gain some perspective.  I’m finally paying attention to the things that life was trying to tell me.  Slow down, care for the ones you love, take care of yourself are all messages we shouldn’t ignore.  It took a pandemic for me to realize the most important things in life: family, friends, and health.

Too Much

               Too much of anything isn’t really good.  Reading for a long time can hurt your eyes or even give you a headache (I know this from personal experience).  Eating a whole bag of potato chips or a container of ice cream in one sitting, while it may be “good for your soul” (as I am prone to saying), is not good for your overall health, especially if you do it frequently.  Even over-consumption of something healthy, like water, is likely to cause some problems.  It’s important to find a balance between what you enjoy and what is good for you and try to avoid feeling addicted to things you know don’t make you feel good, but you just can’t seem to stop.  This is also true when it comes to what’s happening in the world, your personal world, hometown, nation, and globally.

               When I was growing up, my parents read the daily newspapers, one published in town with local news, and one that had more state and worldwide news.  My father watched the late news, at 11:00 pm, sometimes my mother watched news in the late afternoon, at 5:00.  That was it, they kept informed about what was going on and then moved on to other things, books, magazines, tv shows, chores, hobbies, and spending time with us kids. It is very different today.  It’s hard to stay away from current events and opinions.  Much of what is put out there as news is, in my view, the opinions of the broadcasters and celebrities. Between the tv, radio, and social media, over consuming news is hard to avoid.  I do think about this a lot, because I feel that in general we as a society and me personally have become fearful, overwhelmed, and have an underlying anger; most of us probably don’t even know why we feel like this or realize it is happening.  It is hard to avoid becoming fearful of everyday life when we are constantly bombarded with alarming reports and “statistics”, read in an intense manner into the camera, or splashed across any written media in bold lettering with alarming graphics.  The weather alone is enough to make you hide under the covers and wait for the end of the world.  I never remember “weather alerts” when I was younger.  If it was going to rain, we stayed inside or wore raincoats and boots, depending on what it was like out.  We were not alarmed by it, but we respected that Mother Nature would have her way no matter what and we acted accordingly.  Snow was exciting, but not frightening, hot days in summer were expected and called for shorts and t-shirts, ice pops, swimming or sprinkler play and lying in the shade sipping lemonade.  Nobody had to tell us (except our mothers) to stay hydrated and not exert ourselves too much in hot weather.  Cold in January was just par for the course, so we donned our coats, hats, and gloves and went about our business of getting to school and work, but we weren’t scared by it.  Now, half the time I’m afraid to go out of my house for fear something terrible will happen to me if I do.  How silly!  Fear is what keeps us going back to check the weather frequently so we are not caught off guard by dangerous conditions which rarely occur.  In our current situation with the pandemic raging across our country, it’s hard not to become obsessed with finding out “the latest” about it.  If we pay too much attention to what most media is telling us, we forget that common sense is what we most need.  It makes sense to wash your hands after you have been anywhere besides inside your house, and after handling groceries or using the bathroom.  If doctors are saying that wearing a cloth or disposable mask will keep germs from spreading, then common sense tells us that we should do that when we’re going to be around people we don’t live with or who are sick, until a vaccine is available to everyone.  There is so much common sense missing right now.  I think that planting seeds out doubt is one thing that media excels at, and helps to cloud our judgement and ignore the common sense most everyone has.  Fear allows us to ignore our inner voice of reason and readily buy into disinformation. 

               I think about this a lot, as I find myself fearing going out in the rain, driving anywhere, even grocery shopping.  Too much news is not a good thing, at least for me.  I’m doing my best to limit how frequently I check on current events.  Once in the morning and then once in the evening seems to be a good balance for me. I hope you find a good balance for yourself and let your internal voice of reason be your guide.  I wish you peace.

Little Things I Miss

               It’s the little things that make up our days.  Those daily things that keep us organized, our households running, and bring brief moments of contentment are the ones we often miss the most when our lives are altered in some way.  Sometimes we don’t realize how important they are until they are no longer there. Since March, when our schools and then businesses closed due to the pandemic, I have been out of work, and staying home.  At first, they said it was for 2 weeks.  “Cool!” I thought, a little vacation, time for extra rest and get a couple of cleaning/decluttering projects done.  It did not, however, turn out that way!  It’s been 4 ½ months since the last time I went to work, and returning doesn’t look likely any time soon.  I realized over the course of time that what I miss the most are the daily things that make for a “normal” day.

               One of the most basic things that I miss is having a routine, a timetable to stick with or the whole day is off kilter. Even though my workday mornings were rushed, it enabled me to keep moving with a purpose.  It started the day off with an objective, and things fell into place from there.  In spite of trying to institute some type of routine while at home, it’s too easy to slack off and just meander through the day because if something doesn’t get done today, there’s always tomorrow or the day after that, etc.  It’s frustrating when basic chores don’t get done, but not so much so that they feel urgent.  Mostly I’m at loose ends, and feel no purpose to my day. I know I’m not the only one finding this to be true.  Something else I miss is saying good morning to coworkers, and having short conversations throughout the work hours about what’s happening in our personal lives and thoughts on the work ahead of us each day.  I miss the physical activity from my job, and the mental work, giving me something else to think about besides my own problems.  Trying to replicate the physical activity and communication with others is challenging when you’re stuck at home.  Exercising, texting and Zoom calls help, but there’s nothing like hard work and person to person exchanges.  I also miss being able to run quick errands as I did after work many days.  A quick trip to the pharmacy or grocery store, library, or post office were things I took for granted and now I have to wait for someone else to get home before I can run any errands since her day program is closed until further notice, and I can’t risk exposing her to the virus so don’t take her into any public places. There were days when I’d go out for coffee after work with a coworker or two, and that doesn’t happen now, either.  I’m not sure I truly appreciated everything that I was able to do daily before this historic event.

 It’s a strange and isolating time we’re in right now.  Feeling at loose ends and purposeless some days is tough to get used to and work through.  All we can do is try to fill the time with useful and personally fulfilling activities, and try to keep in touch with friends, family and coworkers electronically until it’s safe to see each other in person.

Coffee and Donuts

               My first job was in a national chain coffee & donut shop.  It was a fun and fragrant job, featuring interactions with many people from all walks of life, and the enticing smell of brewing coffee and baking donuts.  It was a place where people, for the most part, were happy.  After all, even if you’re having a less than good day, a steaming cup of coffee and sweet treat can be a cheering respite from grueling work and worry.  It’s also a hopeful way to start the day, get employees to attend a meeting, catch up with a friend, or feel cozy when away from home.

               I think most everyone has a favorite flavor donut.  I like a nice, fresh, powdered sugar donut, although jelly donuts are also nice.  Of course, there is something to be said for cream filled or chocolate donuts, and plain ones can’t be beat for dunking in a fresh cup of coffee or glass of ice cold milk.  Donut holes are also a tasty little bite, just right when time is short and you just need something quick and sweet to pop into your mouth on the run.  I recently realized that if you’re going to be popping donuts while driving it’s best to have the donut holes, as bigger donuts tend to fall apart which is awkward while driving and likely to make a mess in your car and possibly on the front of your shirt, depending on what type of donut you’re eating.  Jelly donuts are nearly impossible to consume neatly in this circumstance, as the filling is likely to drip where you don’t want it and make a sticky mess and also leave a stain.  Cake type donuts are less messy, but the sugar or cinnamon coating tends to end up sprinkled all over everything in the area.  There are donuts available in nearly every store, and many farmers markets and orchards sell homemade cider donuts which are a really special treat.  One would think that since I worked in a donut shop and went home every day smelling of donuts and coffee that I would be sick of both.  I am far from sick of either one—I love coffee and I love donuts!  I usually have a box of those yummy circles in my house, and of course there is always coffee.  Naturally, too many donuts will result in the need for larger pants, but with the proper restraint one can indulge frequently without negative effects; too much coffee (I know, some people will not understand how there could ever be too much coffee, ha-ha!) can result in jitteriness, or at the very least lots of chatter (this is how I am affected by too much coffee, just ask my husband or daughter).  Some people get a little loose with alcohol consumption, but I am much more fun with caffeine and sugar coursing through my veins.  It becomes nearly impossible to control my tongue when I’m indulging that way, usually to the delight and entertainment of those in my company and sometimes to my chagrin.  It doesn’t stop me from occasionally over indulging.

               Over all, I recommend treating yourself to donuts and coffee, or tea if you’re not such a coffee drinker.  Some days we all need a little something to perk us up, something that feels friendly and comforting, and adds a little sweetness to life.

Marking Time

               I joined the marching band when I started high school, many, many years ago. I already knew the basics of marching, as both my older brothers were in the group ahead of me and schooled me in the basics.  I don’t recall having a choice in the matter, but probably I agreed readily to learn as younger siblings are apt to do when trying to keep up with their older counterparts.  One of the parts we learned was marking time.  There are many times in the course of a parade or half time performance that the band members must march in place—marking time.  I didn’t think much about it once I graduated and moved on into adulthood, until recently.  During this pandemic I feel as if all I do is mark time, figuratively, and then began to do it physically most days as a way to remain active.

               Stay at home orders and businesses and schools shutting down puts a community into a weird suspended state.  Your “normal” life is put on hold and there you are trying to fill the hours of your days with activities to keep your mind sharp, your body moving, and, if you have family there with you, to keep everyone from getting on each other’s nerves too much. Early in the shutdown the weather wasn’t conducive to being outside much as it was a cold and windy spring.  I took my daughter out for rides nearly every day, just to get out of the house. Once home, it was easiest to fill the time before my husband came home with TV and reading books.  Not much physical activity was happening outside of household chores and occasional bouts of decluttering.  Once nicer weather arrived, I took to walking my daughter, in her wheelchair, up and down the driveway in order to get some activity, followed by relaxing on the patio or deck and reading, in between blowing bubbles and texting with friends and family.  I don’t go to parks out of an abundance of caution because I’m not confident that the virus can’t be transmitted by simply walking past someone, even outside.  Once summer weather got into full swing, it was too hot to walk much so, in order to get that exercise in I began marking time for 10 -20 minutes a day.  I usually do it while my daughter is watching TV, and she looks at me as if I have lost my mind.  Maybe I have, but, I am at least not gaining any weight; although I was hoping to lose some this way.  Perhaps a few less salty snacks and less ice cream would help with that, but I love my little treats too much to give them up entirely!  This marking time takes an emotional toll, and any way I can feel a bit better is worth it to me.

               I’ll continue marking time for the foreseeable future, as will many others.  When all this is finally over, I wonder how much “normal” life will be left? 

The Art of Sitting Still

The sun is out,

The air is hot,

Some like that,

Some do not,

Either way you’ve

Got to deal,

Keep it cool,

Keep it real.

There are people who simply cannot sit still.  They don't just fidget, they must be on the move and get up to do something they forgot about, or just to walk to the door and look outside; sometimes they go outside and walk around the yard or prune the plants.  They feel ill at ease with simply being still, as if it is a waste of time and they are unproductive in life. They never mastered the fine art of sitting still.

You might be wondering what is so special about sitting still. Well, it is something that I do and enjoy it. I like sitting still and contemplating whatever comes to mind. My favorite place to sit is outside. Outdoors I can notice the way the dappled sunlight highlights different parts of the landscape, objects on the ground, and potted plants, for instance. I can watch leaves flutter in the breeze, and watch clouds sail across the sky and birds flit tree to tree or soar on air currents high above that I can't feel on the ground. I can hear birds singing, the slap of someone’s shoes walking down the street, and the tinkling of wind chimes. Sitting still also allows my mind to wander, and give me a break from current worries and things that puzzle me. Quiet contemplation frees my mind to wander memory lane, or make plans for the future. It allows for daydreaming and writing poems in my head that never make it to paper, as fleeting as a wisp of smoke. This summer, being that we are still in our months long quarantine,  I have taken to spending time on lazy afternoons on either the shady patio or sun dappled deck blowing bubbles for Hillary's amusement. I highly recommend this activity even if you don't have someone to amuse for a while. Blowing bubbles causes you to take deep breaths and empty your lungs slowly. Watching the translucent orbs, with their rainbow on one edge, float away or be carried off on the breeze is a relaxing way to spend some time.  You can even imagine the delicate spheres are carrying away your troubled thoughts, or carrying messages to your loved ones in Heaven. That's a lovely thought, isn't it?  It's hard to blow bubbles when you're on the move; it's only possible when you're still.

I recommend trying sitting quietly for a bit some lazy afternoon under the shade of a big tree, sipping iced tea and perhaps blowing bubbles. Then contemplate the clouds sailing across the sky for a bit and listen to the sounds around you.  It can be very refreshing for both your body and mind.

Father's Day Again

Dads

A dad will tell a joke that’s lame,
You will laugh just the same,
He will say that you must hurry,
Then will tell you not to worry,
Sometimes he might curse and grumble,
But when praised will seem humble,
He will watch his children grow,
With love and pride he may not show.

Well here we are at Father's Day again. The years go by so quickly that it feels like we just celebrated this day not too long ago, but, obviously it's been a whole year.  This year, as in most previous years, we spent the day quietly and just with the four of us. Not just because of the pandemic, but that's who we are. We are low key and content to spend a lazy afternoon in our air conditioning since it was a hot & humid day. It was at least sunny so I could use the grill to cook dinner. It was requested that I cook a T-bone steak and some foil pouch potatoes on the grill. I added shrimp cocktail, asparagus and sautéed mushrooms to the menu, with mixed berries and whipped cream for dessert.  It was all delicious!

While I was out cooking on the deck I could hear what some of the neighbors were doing to celebrate. It was so nice to hear kids laughing and squealing with delight, and some were splashing & playing in a pool with their dads. One neighbor, who has no small children and is divorced was talking on the phone while watering new grass in her yard. Perhaps she was talking to her father, I like to think so but I don't know.  Still another began mowing his lawn after dinner while his children played together, the little girl dancing around in a princess dress. It was a really pleasant day, and quite relaxing.

Fathers. They're all different, yet some things are the same--lame "Dad" jokes, reassuring, sometimes cranky, awkward and humble when praised, and loving under a somewhat gruff exterior. Those of us blessed with good fathers are grateful beyond measure.

Comfort

Hello June!

               

Farewell, May!

You were weird,

We are halfway

Through this year,

We’ve been challenged,

Things are rough,

To get through it all,

We must be tough.

     As I folded some laundry today I thought about how my mother used to come to my house and fold the laundry when my girls were babies. It was such a big help to me, and I still am thankful when either my daughter or husband fold whatever's in the basket waiting to be dealt with. It's always the little things that bring to mind a loved one who is no longer here.

     Little, mundane, seemingly unimportant things are what jogs my memory of my parents. They are present always in my everyday life. Using a certain paring knife in the kitchen, the sound of a lawnmower, or the smell of coffee brewing are common occurrences that start me thinking of my parents. I think I remember those things more than any big events like birthdays or graduations. It was the stability of those common objects, sounds, and smells that made for a happy, safe childhood. My parents were there, every day, no matter what else was happening in life. It's what makes home such a haven for most people. If you're having a bad day, you know that when at last you step across the threshold there will be a place for you that are familiar, welcoming, and comfortable. You will be calmed by the familiar sound of the refrigerator's hum mixed with the radio playing, perhaps the lingering smell of the morning's coffee intertwined with the scent of soap and a favorite candle, or the sight of the sun slanting through the window highlighting your favorite seat and cozy throw. The things we don't really think much about are the background of our lives; subconsciously keeping us centered and able to cope with things life throws our way in an average day. It's one of the greatest gifts we get from our past, if we have had any sort of stability in our childhood and youth. It helps us meet challenges head on and have some resilience and toughness when things start to wear us down.

      Of course, in our current tumultuous world, any bit of comfort and stability are even more important. To be able to look forward to the familiar at the end of a long day is one of the greatest sources of comfort I know. Comfort and stability will continue to be important in the months, and years to come.

Holiday?

            This is a holiday weekend.  I know this because they were talking about it on the news and offering suggestions for things to do.  It doesn’t “feel” like a holiday to me, but then the last few haven’t felt like they were holidays either.  Holidays should feel special, with different food, fun activities, and visiting with people we don’t see often.  Warm weather holidays generally lend themselves to larger pot luck gatherings with extended family. 

            When I was growing up, and even when my kids were small, the summer holidays were spent usually at my parents’ house with my siblings and their spouses (I was the first to have children), and usually at least one of my aunts.  Mom’s potato and macaroni salads were always on the menu, as well as ‘burgers and dogs’ on the grill, an assortment of vegetable sticks, cheese and crackers, potato chips, and watermelon.  Sometimes sweet corn and cookies or cake were served as well. She always made her own lemonade and iced tea served out of large thermos jugs, too. When we had the big picnic on Labor Day, there were one aunt’s ‘famous’ baked beans, another ones cucumber salad, still another ones fresh garden tomatoes (which she sliced in her hand while talking to her sisters, without ever once cutting her hand), and someone always brought deviled eggs.  They were special days filled with the conversations and laughs you hear whenever relatives who enjoy each other’s company gather after being separated for months. I love those memories, and the pictures we used to take to remember the day by.  Now we don’t have so many relatives, and usually it’s just the 4 of us hanging out, having a day off of work.  I try to make the food special, but the day just doesn’t hold much of anything different from any other weekend day.  It’s a little sad but we’re all so tired from the hectic pace of our weekdays that we just want to spend the day relaxing.  Sometimes we do get together with our siblings, but definitely not this year what with the pandemic and all the restrictions on group gatherings.  Maybe next year we can try to make things a little more special.

            I hope that for you, the holiday is as special as you want it to be.  If what you really want is just a day to relax, I hope you get that; if you want to do something special, I hope you get to do that, too.  As for me, I’ll be hanging out in the back yard, possibly playing “Yahtzee!” or “Scrabble”, eating snacks and feasting on burgers and dogs.  Maybe I’ll make some of that potato salad and macaroni salad too.   

Sundays And Books

Sleepy Sunday morning,

Rain drips from the trees,

Lazy thoughts are mingled,

With gossamer threads of dreams,

Wisps of steam rise, curling,

From hot brew in a cup,

Cozy feelings all around,

On Sunday morning waking up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Sunday mornings of my youth were not relaxing. We were all (my brothers and I) up early, breakfasted, dressed, and dropped off at the church for 9:30 Sunday school. Dad dropped us off, while Mom got ready and then drove to the church in time for choir warm up. Dad didn't attend church; I'm not sure what he did while we were all out of the house besides listen to country music. He was alone in his love of that genre, and it was his chance to listen to it outside of the basement where he spent much time tinkering with radios and old TVs, and probably reading paperbacks. His favorites were mysteries and westerns, Agatha Christie, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Louie L’Amour are authors names I recall seeing at our house. I think that his choices influenced both my love of reading, and my tendency to read mysteries and stories set in the Midwest with horses and cowboy characters. I don't think he got his books from the library, as I don't recall him ever going inside ours. Rather, there always seemed to be a paper bag of paperback books around the house. Maybe he got them from a friend, or one of my aunts. I never questioned it; it's just something that always was. It’s funny how we often don’t question things that were in our growing up houses.  They were just there, part of who we all were and would become later in life, influencing us by their mere presence.

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Library

I really miss the library,

Meandering through the stacks

Of books, each one enticing,

With covers both colorful and black,

Promising to dazzle me

With words and clever phrases,

To teach and entertain me,

As I read through story mazes,

Alas! They are all closed,

Due to this ugly virus,

One day they will reopen,

To teach and entertain us.

          I have been missing the library.  It is one of my favorite places to spend a little time.  The smell of the books, the rows of colorful covers creating a mosaic of temptation; I want to touch them, run my fingertips along them as I meander through the stacks.  It’s so enjoyable to read the titles, pick which ones to check out, and sample a little of the first page before deciding.  I usually limit myself to 3 at a time because under normal circumstances I don’t have a lot of time to read. 

          On the last day I worked before things started closing due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I stopped at the library on the way home and checked out a stack of books, as many as I could carry.  I should have taken a bag with me, but it was a decision I made at work so wasn’t prepared.  My thinking was that since the schools were closed, the library would likely also have to close and I didn’t want to end up with time to read but nothing new to dive into.  Initially it was to be a 2 week closing of the schools, but as it turns out, it’s to be 5 ½ months. I don’t think the library will be opening any time soon, so far it’s been 2 months and there doesn’t seem to be an end date in sight.  I do spend quite a bit of time reading as I find it a wonderful way to escape the grim and crazy news reports on all media.  It took about 3 weeks for me to read through my initial stack, and I was going to start rereading the books I have around the house, but my daughter started bringing me stacks of books from her bookcase that she got at one of the library’s book sales.  How wonderful!  I should be good with books for a while.  I know I could have read e-books, but I don’t enjoy them as much as the “old fashioned” paper kind.  The look, the smell, the feel of a book is intoxicating to me; it’s all part of experiencing a story.

          If you are a reader, and find yourself not working during this life changing time of life, I wish you many books.