Month: March 2020

The Bucket List

The Bucket List

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For the longest time she added things to her bucket list: skydive, participate in the Polar Plunge, visit Italy. The list got longer and longer. It was a good list. She felt good about it and would periodically review it to ensure the things on it hadn’t yet been completed, (they never had and the only thing crossed off was a joke), and that the things on it were still things she wanted to see and do. She was confident that an ever growing bucket list meant she was not only a fascinating person with passionate aspirations but also that she couldn’t possibly die because she simply had too much to accomplish.

The Bucket List began as a sort of joke after her grandmother died, still very young, of lung cancer after having never smoked a cigarette or worked in a coal mine in her life. Her mother, flippant as always, expressed sadness at her own mother’s passing but more so at the fact that her life had been so uneventful. “Life isn’t meant to be wasted, darling,” she’d said to her daughter, “one ought to have a list of dreams.” And so the birth of The Bucket List.

She’d continued to add to the list as she heard of clever adventures or unusual events. And as she got a little older the list grew older too, but never shorter. And then one day her own mother died, an unexpected heart attack as the woman was in fine fiddle and not in any risk groups unless you count her own mother’s genetic predisposition to lung cancer. Her own mother. What was she to do with that. There was no one at the funeral to tell her what a shame it was. And it was. She realized she’d never heard her mother’s list of dreams and had no idea whether or not she’d achieved them.

“Life isn’t meant to be wasted, Mother,” she said quietly over the open pit, the coffin already lowered down, “I’m going to fulfill my list of dreams.” She threw in a handful of frozen dirt, turned on her heel, and walked purposefully to her car. She sat in the drivers seat for a moment, letting the car warm up, her list in her hand. The easiest item to accomplish was the first one and with that she drove to the closest gas station.

It took her a moment to get the match lit, not being accustomed to cheap matchbooks and her hands shaking from the cold, but when the match fwished into fire she smiled and brought it up to the cigarette clamped between her teeth. Nothing much happened until she decided to take a puff and then suddenly the cigarette was lit, there was a cloud of ash in her mouth, and she began to cough. Tears streaming from her eyes she finally managed to get the coughing under control and looked at the cigarette. It was still lit, a little grey line of ashes developing at its tip. She took one more puff, just to be sure she’d done the first one properly, and immediately began hacking and coughing again. Stamping out the cigarette she threw the remainder in the trash along with the rest of it’s unsmoked brethren.

Once again in the car she put a check next to the first item on her list and looked down for the next easiest thing. Nothing else would be quite that fast but she realized that watching a black and white film would be the next easiest thing to accomplish. She drove home, turned on the TV, and searched for “black and white.” A very brief cascade of films appeared and she chose the first: Casablanca.

She was so inspired and moved by Casablanca that she spent several more hours over several more days watching black and white films. She felt she’d been living under a rock. How had she never seen these beautiful works? Especially when it was so incredibly easy to do. After the seventh or eighth film she remembered there was a whole wide world outside of her living room and a long list awaiting her attention. She was hungry, and chose to eat at a fancy restaurant rather than make herself the staple grilled cheese she would normally have.

Arriving at the fanciest restaurant she knew an hour later, freshly showered and wearing her only fancy dress and her fanciest shoes (they were sneakers but at least they were a dark color, perhaps no one would notice), she walked in. Luckily as a table for one she was easily accommodated and while she’d never before had a meal with so many courses and so many dishes that she couldn’t pronounce, nor even knew what they were, she realized as she sipped her coffee at the end, poking at the unbelievably delicious chocolate confection they’d brought that while she’d be unlikely to dine like this ever again it had truly been the treat she’d needed and the experience she’d wanted.

Having already accomplished three of the things on her list in one week she felt a bit tipsy with accomplishment, and then realized it wasn’t accomplishment but alcohol. She really was tipsy, unused as she was to drinking a new alcoholic beverage to compliment each course. She pulled out her list and tried to review it but found it was a bit swimmy. She certainly couldn’t drive home like this, she’d have to go for a walk until the alcohol wore off.

As she walked she thought back on all the books she’d read and loved. If only she had a way to track how many there were. She decided that she would start working on that piece of the list as soon as she could think properly. She continued walking, her head getting a bit clearer with the cold air and the positive ions coming off the ocean ahead of her. She wished for a moment she had cute strappy sandals she could remove and carry as she walked but settled for her clunky sneakers, which she was quite sure everyone in the restaurant had in fact noticed. She made a mental note to add “buy cute strappy sandals” to her list before sitting down in the sand and watching the moon bounce off the waves as they crashed into shore.

After awhile a rather large group of people, mostly teenagers, all laughing and being raucous walked past her heading towards the water. Amidst the laughing and shrieks she heard taunts of “no way!” and “yes I will!” and “you better go in too!” She watched, eyes ever wider as the teenagers began running into the water. It had to be freezing in that water! Those kids were…doing a Polar Plunge! Sure it wasn’t January first, but it was near enough to it. And she’d never be quite so inoculated against the cold as she was right now, her belly full of warm liquor.

Before she quite knew what she was doing she’d left her sneakers and purse on the beach and was running towards the water and the group of teens. She plunged into a wave just as broke into foam all around her and she realized she was screaming although her head was still underwater. She came up gasping for air, no longer screaming thankfully, and as soon a she opened her eyes she realized the sky had never held as many stars as it did right then.

In that moment she knew people could question her sanity all they liked but no one would stand by her graveside and say her life was a shame or that her life had been wasted.

The Bucket List

  • Smoke a cigarette
  • Work in a coal mine
  • Learn to ride a bike
  • Read 1,000 books
  • Fall in love
  • See a black and white film
  • Attend Shakespeare Festival
  • Eat at a fancy restaurant
  • Buy a house
  • Get married
  • Have a baby
  • Skydive
  • Participate in the Polar Plunge
  • Visit Italy
  • Buy cute strappy sandals

~~~That’s one hour~~~

Pessimist or Realist

Pessimist or Realist

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I live pretty far away from things, it’s a good hour plus drive to a Costco and while my little town has a grocery store it’s one of those pay three times as much as you would anywhere else because of fuel charges kind of store. Once a week, every week, I used to (in my pre-quarantine days) go down the hill (that’s what we call leaving the mountain) with my kids so we could all visit with my mom for a few hours and have lunch, then the kids and I would go grocery shopping and run any other errands that can only be accomplished down the hill.

I haven’t been down the hill in two weeks. I was supposed to go tomorrow because Costco Instacart delivery won’t deliver up here but they will deliver to my mom. She was able to get us some things we haven’t been able to get since all this panic began, things like baby wipes. For our baby. Who poops in a diaper and then we have to wipe it. With baby wipes. Which have 0% alcohol in them. And yet…people are hoarding baby wipes that don’t kill the Coronavirus and for what? But I digress, I was supposed to go down the hill tomorrow to pick up the order of stuff she was able to get delivered to her house for us.

The plan was that everything would be out by the garage. I could arrive, load up my car, wave through the living room window at her, maybe call her cell and talk to her on the phone as we stared at each other through the window. You know, first world tragic stuff. And then afterwards I’d go to the grocery store and see if there was any fresh produce I could purchase since we haven’t eaten anything fresh in a week. But sadly plans got changed around and now it looks like I won’t be going down until Monday.

This sucks, y’all. I was equal parts dreading this trip, because of the grocery store part, and needing this escape from my home and immediate family. And I could say that it makes me a horrible person to say that, and maybe it does, but the truth of the matter is: there is no one I would rather be in isolation with than my husband and kids and also I desperately need to get away from my husband and kids. I need roughly twenty minutes, but two hours would be heaven, of silence. I need to be in my own head while also physically busy doing something (driving would be perfect) so that I can concentrate on my thoughts without concentrating on them.

Did that make any sense at all?

I will admit that for a moment I considered not telling my husband the plans had changed to Monday. I considered saying nothing and leaving tomorrow and getting my time to myself and then coming home and shrugging, oh man, plans changed but I was already down the hill, sorry it took me so long to turn around and get back…. But that would be shitty. Just like when I consider staying in the shower longer than I technically need to.

Because the truth is, if I told my husband, I desperately need two hours to myself he would shrug and say, “go! Do it!” He would have absolutely no problem with it whatsoever. And as I type this out and realize the truth I’ve known but not admitted to myself I wonder why the hell I still haven’t turned to him and said “I desperately need two hours to myself!”

I think part of it is just recognizing that I could have this time to myself if I asked for it, allows me to breathe a little deeper and not be quite so desperate for it. I think part of it is that I desperately want that time to myself and I also can’t stand to be apart from my family for one minute, and especially right now. Seeing them and hearing them and being with them reassures me that they are okay, that I am okay, that we are alive and surviving. So even though I need my space, I also can’t bring myself to take it.

I think the answer is a family hike. We all need to get out and move. We all need some fresh air and some outside time. We can all be together but also be in our heads. Writing that out feels right. Writing that out feels like, “ah, yes, that is the answer.” And so I have just therapized myself through writing. Huzzah!

It’s fascinating to me how often I can be spinning out inside my mind, spiraling into anger or frustration (same thing), not able to figure out why, and then just sitting and writing for a moment allows me the space to work through it. Like earlier at the dinner table, my leg was jumping up and down, up and down, up and down, and my husband asks “nervous?” And I was like “yes, I’m anxious, which really means I’m afraid but I don’t know what I’m afraid of.” And that’s when I had to stop and breathe and realize that I was afraid not of going to the store so much as the store not having what we need.

While the store being out of what we need is a legit fear it’s also ridiculous for us. We live so far away that we are always pretty well backstocked on stuff. And sure, I was supposed to restock our TP supply right as the pandemic hit and thus we are actually running quite low on TP and those baby wipes I was wha-whaing about earlier. But the thing is, we are okay. We are extremely lucky. We have stuff in the freezer and stuff on our shelves. We can go at least one more week just making up random meals based on what we scrounge through and those random meals will be decent.

The bigger fear really is that I fear this will go on much longer than anticipated.

I told a girlfriend on text last night that I expect it will be August before things will slow down. It shocked me when I sent it because I hadn’t realized I believed that until I saw it in writing. But I do. She was shocked. And I texted that they originally predicted it would peak in May but that I think that’s too optimistic. I’m not usually this pessimistic. And then I saw posts about schools remaining closed until Fall and realized, I’m not being a pessimist, I’m being a realist.

Or maybe I just really need to get outside for a hike.

~~~That’s one hour~~~

Lockdown

Lockdown

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It’s official, our state is now on lockdown. It’s been less than an hour since it was announced and already people are freaking out. I don’t get it. Why are you freaking out? Did you not see this coming? Italy warned us. The governor warned us. It happened. There was no broadside.

Maybe, being an introvert, this is just not scary for me? Maybe, living an hour from any kind of “city” makes this easy for me? Maybe the fact that we are all still so incredibly connected thanks to phones, texts, and the internet makes this seem like a pretty simple demand of me?

I realize I am showing my privilege here. I recognize there are people who will not be drawing a paycheck, who will be worried about their next meal, their children’s next meal, that are worried about being in lockdown with an abuser. I get that. That is not my reality and I will not even pretend that it is.

I think there are many ways to help make this a wee bit easier and I’m going to lead with the one that will probably piss a lot of people off but may actually prevent a lot of insanity and panic:

One: Play Ostrich

Stick your head in the sand. Use your internet for nothing more than Netflix, Hulu, Disney+, AmazonPrimeVideo, etc. DO NOT PAY ATTENTION TO THE NEWS. Live in the bubble that is your home and don’t come out until August at the earliest…even then maybe just peak at a headline or two and then decide whether or not to go back into your forced hibernation…which I guess makes you a bear, not an ostrich.

Two: Stay Informed

The complete opposite of option one here folks. This requires that you be on multiple platforms and keep appraised of the situation and ONLY LOOK AT LEGITIMATE NEWS. Do you realize how many nefarious things are going on right now? Senators dumping stocks right before everything crashed! The Chairman of the NYSE is married to a senator and was using information to also dump stocks. Stay informed. Hold them accountable. Don’t lose sight of the political in the personal.

Three: Stay Social Via Internet

Do not become suicidal because you’re an extrovert and this is literally killing your will to live. You can still be super social (you weirdo, you). There’s FaceTime, Zoom, Google Chat (or something?), GoToMeeting, Skype, and probably lots of others I don’t know about because I’m really just not that cool. People are literally dating in all this. You can do it!

Four: Volunteer

Bear with me here, you do not have to break lockdown to help others. You can write letters (COVID-19 dies on paper in 24 hours) to:

You can volunteer to foster an animal in need. Lots of shelters are losing their volunteers right now. There are tons of critters that need a dedicated foster home. You can start by asking at your local Humane Society and they will most likely be able to direct you if they are not in need themselves.

These are my top suggestions but if you Google “how to volunteer without leaving home” you will be inundated with more options than you could possibly get through in one lockdown.

Five: Get Out

Yes, you’re not supposed to leave your home unless it’s to get groceries, fuel, or medical. That doesn’t mean you can’t supply your brain and your body with the outdoors they need to stay healthy. You must have at least one window in your home you can open for twenty minutes a day. Look out that window, even if you’re looking at a brick wall, smell that outside air. Obviously the further you can see out the better, it’s actually super important for your brain and eyes if you can focus on a distance for fifteen minutes a day. If you’re lucky enough to have a balcony or patio or backyard use them. This may seem small but it’s actually huge for your mental health.

Six: Humor and Beauty

Search for the humor and the beauty during all this, they exist, I promise (it’s helpful if you’re on Twitter). Humor is going to be very important in the coming months.

You got this America. You are not alone. The entire world is gonna have to be mad COVID strong, y’all. We are all in this together even when we’re apart. Stay connected with your friends and family. Sit in your scared moments together. Laugh in your happy moments together. Remember to be extra gentle with yourself and others, extra forgiving. We are all simultaneously fragile and stronger than we previously thought.

~~~That’s one hour~~~

Beauty and Terror

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All my life and it has come to no more than this: beauty and terror

Mary Oliver

So many people seem to be living in terror, in barely checked panic. And rightfully so. There’s been so much fear the last three years. So many groups have been the target of so much hatred and anger. And now it’s all culminating not because the current president is about to be removed from office (huzzah! Just ten more months y’all) but because COVID-19 doesn’t care about how white, cis, straight, or male you might be. The only silver lining in this whole virus, the beauty and the terror: lack of discrimination.

When people with kids to tend first started trying to figure out what to do home with kids for at least three weeks there was panic. People terrified their little charges would be held back a year, would lose a year of education. At some point it began to shift to ways they and the kiddos could help others, like making and sending cards to the people in retirement communities who would be least likely to have access to the knowledge or technology for things like Zoom and would thus be missing family and social interaction most. But you can’t in good conscience send a COVID-19 card (aka a smallpox blanket) to a senior citizen. The beauty here is two-fold: one, people want to help others even when they themselves are terrified, and two, we’ve since discovered the virus doesn’t last on paper for more than 24 hours.

I know families who barely had five minutes to spend together a day, families who lived from “wake up” to “breakfast” to “go to schoool/work” to “come home” to “eat dinner” to “do homework” to “go to bed” and repeat. There wasn’t time for more than that. I know kids and adults who were completely stressed out by this arrangement but there wasn’t time to find time to ease the terror. Being home together now means family meals and games, family movie time and chores, family reading and jokes. For some of the families I know this virus if the most terrible beautiful thing that could happen to them.

In our small town there’s been an outpouring of love and offered assistance. Even amidst the terror of contracting and spreading the virus there are those reaching out to offer assistance and food to those in need. The desire to be helpful, the pulling together to offer kindness and trade goods is beautiful.

I challenge you to think of one beautiful thing that has occurred that doesn’t also have something terrible related to it, or something that sparks terror that isn’t also beautiful. Be real. My miscarriages were terrible. I was very hard pressed to find any beauty there. But there was. The beauty of how much you can love a person you’ve never met, a person you will never meet, a person you’ve only known a few short weeks and even then there isn’t much I could tell you about them except that they’re missed. There was also a beauty to the very natural and terrible process. It’s not anything I ever wish to live through again, and I’m finally healed from it by the birth of a rainbow baby, and perhaps that’s the only reason I am able to look back on them as beautiful while still terrible.

Many of us now have a lot more time to focus on our terror. I challenge you to also find our beauty.

~~~That’s one hour~~~

Doing Our Best

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We went to the desert today to go hiking. A spot not many people go to or know about prior to COVID-19, and sure enough we didn’t see anyone the entire time we were out. Not even parked cars along the route of people hiking some other trail off the main one. We were outside in the sun and wind and clouds for hours and it was amazing. It was also eerie.

From the top of a mountain we looked down at the highways and saw no cars.

We hiked for a good long while, as much of a good long hike as you can have with a four-year-old and a one-year-old who isn’t doing much in the way of walking right now and thus needs to be carried. Clean air. Fresh blooming flowers. Sage.

We collected handfuls of sage to bring the outside inside.

We drove a bit further and stopped along an extremely popular hiking through trail that also happens to have the perfect fallen tree that acts as a bench and ate our packed lunch: tuna salad with avocado and almond crackers. A couple apples. We walked a portion of the trail, just so I could finally say “I’ve walked a portion of the PCT.”

There were no hikers.

We continued to drive through to the other highway that would loop us around and back home. We finally saw someone. On a bike. An older man, certainly over sixty, most likely a prime candidate for the entire self-isolation movement. He slowed down as though he wanted to chat. We waved and mouthed “hi” as we drove through. He waved back.

This is social distancing without a couch.

And then we blew it. We were driving back towards town and saw two through-hikers who needed a lift into town. It’s a long hike into town. The clouds are coming in good now and the wind has picked up. It is very, very cold outside. These two kids need to get in out of the storm and fast. The cab of our truck is full with two adults and two kids in car seats, but our truck has a shell on it and the dog is in back.

We stop for the hikers.

The hikers have no problem climbing in back with the dog. They’re shivering. They say they want a hotel and food and they’ll go anywhere we think will take them. We close them up in the back, tell them to bang the glass if they need us to stop before we get to town. We start driving, and texting with a true trail angel to see if she wants hiker company for the night.

She’s had a strange day.

She pulls over and waits for us to get up the hill with our hikers. We pull over and ask the hikers if they still want to go to town and pay for a hotel and pay for food or if they want to go home with the world’s most epic trail angel where they’ll have showers, laundry, food, beer, and a game room all for free.

The hikers jump in with her.

We continue on our way home. We have our homemade kombucha and discuss how grateful we are to come home to a wood stove and to have spent a day together. Yes, we broke isolation by letting trail hikers ride in the back of our truck. Yes, we broke isolation by stopping to let those hikers get a much better deal for the night than a hotel would give them.

We are not learning from Italy.

My kids are perfectly healthy. I’m perfectly healthy. We are probably carriers if we have been exposed. My husband is currently, knock-on-wood, perfectly healthy. He is also immunocompromised. We risk his health more than ours when we do what we did today.

My joy at helping others could soon be tempered.

This is my greatest fear. Not that I may have compromised my husbands immune system by breaking isolation, although that terrifies me more than I know how to put into words, but that I may become too afraid to help others. And yes, it’s fine to say, just let the people who don’t have immunocompromised people in their family be the helpers. And yes, it’s fine to say, just let the people who don’t have 60+ people in their family be the helpers.

Expecting others to be the helpers seems pretty entitled.

When we returned home I saw an invite on social media to join a group for helpers in our area. A group for those who want to help and for those who need help. I haven’t yet seen anyone raise their hand needing help, and I’m grateful. I’m hopeful no one will need it.

I feel like a hypocrite.

I will wait for someone who needs eggs, then I’ll deliver to their doorstep fresh from our hens. I will wait for someone who needs rice, then I’ll deliver from our enormous Costco bag purchased before the panic buying began. I will wait for someone who needs a smile, then I’ll FaceTime with them and my goofy children.

I will do my best.

~~~That’s one hour~~~

Self-Care

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“It should not be this hard to find a chocolate lava cake,” she said aloud to no one in particular, although a few people turned in her direction. She tossed her head to get her bangs out of her face and carried on. She’d been walking around the downtown area for at least an hour, popping in to different restaurants and eateries, finding pies and brownies and sundaes and all sorts of cheesecakes and more ice cream than anyone could eat in a week, but no chocolate lava cake. “Damn.”

She stopped on a corner for a moment to catch her breath and figure out her next step. She could always go back to the place with brownies, brownies were chocolate and kinda cake-y and hell if you heat up some chocolate sauce and pour it on top that’s kinda chocolate lava cake-ish, right? Her brain congratulated her on an excellent idea but her stomach, oh who was she kidding, her uterus laughed and said “oh no, only chocolate lava cake is chocolate lava cake, and if you’re not going to grow a child and you want to survive the next week without intense pains, you will get me what I want: chocolate lava cake.

She sighed and wracked her brain. Surely there was somewhere within a sixty mile radius that would have chocolate lava cake. She pulled out her phone and opened Yelp! She searched for chocolate lava cake and found only poor substitutes and imitations unless she wanted to drive through three hours of traffic, which she did not. She closed Yelp! and opened Google and performed the same search. No dice, same info. She stomped her foot, suddenly a toddler being told she couldn’t have her way, furious with the world and all who would undermine her.

Close to tears she finally searched the internet for recipes and found one. The most decadent sounding chocolate lava cake she’d ever seen pictured or read about. The reviews were spectacular, she could pronounce the ingredients and even knew she had some of them at home. She shoved her phone back in her purse and went in search of her car and a trip to the grocery store.

Home with her items: chocolate, butter, eggs, flour, sugar, and salt, she proceeded to unpack her purchases and wash her hands. She then pulled down from her cabinet six small ramekins which she’d had for years thinking she’d someday make her own creme brulee, which she never did, but she still had the ramekins and now they would be perfect. She proceeded to follow the instructions on the recipe, turning the oven to 450 degrees and mixing, whisking, boiling.

She filled all six ramekins, then covered five in plastic wrap and set them in the fridge. She’d have one each night until she got sick of them. The remaining ramekin she put in the oven and tapped her nails waiting, realizing as she did so that she should really put some fresh paint on them or at least remove the chipped paint. Twelve minutes had never taken so long. When the timer finally went off she yanked the little cake out and set it on the counter for one minute as instructed, then put a plate over the top and flipped it over. She listened as the dessert inside slid down and plopped onto the plate.

Removing the ramekin and setting it in the sink she turned her attention to the beautiful chocolate lump in front of her. It looked like a little chocolate muffin or a cupcake that needed icing. She grabbed a fork from the drawer before thinking better of it and grabbing a spoon. She pushed the spoon into the little cake and scooped up a bite, thrilling as the chocolate began to ooze slowly out of the hole her spoon had created.

The first bite of cake was the most orgasmic moment she’d had in ages. The cake was rich but not too sweet, the chocolate almost too hot but not quite. She considered letting it melt on her tongue rather than chewing but couldn’t stop herself. Before she knew it the entire little cake was gone, a few smears of chocolate on the plate all that remained. She drug her finger through the smears and sucked on her finger for a moment. “there are five more in the fridge…” she thought.

They were so tiny, these little ramekins of bliss. Surely one more wouldn’t be too much. She pulled the ramekin out and found it was a bit chilled but certainly not cold enough to warrant sitting on the counter to bring to room temperature. She removed the plastic wrap and threw the little ramekin into the oven. Setting the timer for twelve minutes was much easier this time, the wait no longer interminable. Nor was it difficult to wait the one minute while it sat on the counter a cooled a bit before she plated it.

This second cake was just as delicious as the first. There was absolutely no loss of joy or flavor. She did a little dance as she ate the second cake, humming as she sucked chocolate off the spoon, and licking the chocolate off the plate when she was done rather than dredging her finger through what was left. She briefly considered having one more but decided she really was sated now, and if she knew anything about her body by now it’s that she’d be wanting another cake or two tomorrow.

She drew a bath, poured a glass of port, and grabbed a book, Glennon Doyle Melton’s Love Warrior. No need for candlelight or music, she wasn’t that high maintenance. She slipped into the hot water, took a sip of port, and proceeded to read her book. The introduction was amazing and she was quickly whisked away; nothing was better than a good memoir…except maybe chocolate lava cake. “Damn.”

She put a bookmark in the book and set it down, finished what was left of her port, and grabbed her towel. Pulling the drain on the tub she went back into the kitchen and turned the oven back on. She pulled a third ramekin out of the fridge and removed the plastic wrap. She went back to her room to get pajamas on as the oven and the dessert warmed up. Grabbing a bottle of nail polish remover, some cotton balls, and a bottle of nail polish she went back out to the kitchen and put the ramekin in the oven.

She painted the nails on her left hand while she waited, then pulled the ramekin out with her right hand and set it down to cool for one minute. Setting the plate on top she realized she’d painted her left hand prematurely. Shrugging, she set her left hand on top of the plate and used her right to grab the ramekin and flipped everything over. She set the ramekin down and then grabbed the plate and a spoon with her right hand. She sighed in relief as she wiggled her left hand in front of her and realized all five nails were unaffected.

~~~That’s one hour~~~

Please note, I do not know Glennon Doyle (although I’d love to!) and I am in no way affiliated with her, her book(s), or her site(s). I do not make any money or get anything for free from her if you visit her site. It’s simply the book I just started and literally read the intro and can’t wait to read the rest. This is how real life slips into fiction sometimes 🙂

What To Do: Home With Kids

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Home with the kids for the forseeable future because school is closed? Debating going to the movies or a local zoo or museum because you don’t know what to do to keep them and yourself from going insane over the next few weeks? I get it. I stay home with my kids 24/7 (although I use the term home loosely as we are generally running around doing things), but I know exactly how crazy it can be. But here’s the thing, the whole point of schools being closed is so that kids won’t be exposed to the virus and/or spread the virus. So keep your kids home. And find stuff to do…. Here are some of the best ideas of heard.

If You Need a Schedule

Some kids (and adults) do best with a schedule. Sure the first day can be a free for all where everyone sleeps in and eats breakfast for dinner and revels in a day home from school. But what then? By the third day you and your munchkins may be going a little insane. It can help everyone if there’s a plan in place. Here’s a suggested schedule from Jessica McHale Photography:

The thing to remember here is that you can make the schedule any way you’d like, reorganize according to when your family wakes up and goes to bed and the things your family enjoys doing.

For Those With Internet Access

There is SO much you can find for free online, and it seems many of them are coming out of the woodwork with this virus. Here’s a picture with some good ideas from That Fun Teacher:

For Those With Access to the Outdoors

If you are lucky enough to have a patio, yard, or several acres and can go outside there are tons of things to do. Our favorite outdoor resource for ideas is the 1000 Hours Outside Challenge website.

  • Give the kids paper and pens and have them draw the nature they see: leaves, insects, trees, birds, etc. If you have access to field guides or the internet this activity can be extended to later figuring out what all everyone saw
  • If you have sand toys and access to dirt and water you can make awesome mud cities and car tracks
  • Basically anything you’d normally do inside you can take outside: dolls, cars, games, etc.

What We Do

In our house we try to do a mix of the things above as well as those below, and rather than use a schedule we just go with the flow and try not to have every day look exactly the same or the kids go insane (and so do I). Feel free to pick and choose from the list below:

  • Chase: parents chasing kids or kids chasing parents (if you have slick floors make sure socks are off). This is usually done with one of our kids bent over a truck trying to run us over
  • Hide and Seek: you’d be amazed at how fun this can be in your home, especially after the first few rounds when you have to really start getting inventive (it is especially fun if you have young ones who may take awhile to recognize the lump under the covers is mommy = instant ninja nap!)
  • Craft Time: pull out everything from old buttons and crayons to broken dishes and boxed noodles. Let the kids decide what they want to make and just be on hand in case they need adult assistance
  • Cardboard Box: it’s not just for Calvin and Hobbes, cardboard boxes are the bomb! Young kids like to pretend they’re houses or airplanes or cars and older kids can turn themselves into a robot or build a time machine. There’s no end to a box, especially if you keep it around for a few days. The first day they may just pretend with it and the second day ignore it until you suggest decorating it. Suddenly the box has a whole new life as they paint or color it and add stickers
  • Water Play: you do not need a fancy water table. Pull chairs up to the kitchen or bathroom sink, put a large bowl in there and fill it with water. Give the kids nonbreakable items to play with like metal funnels, metal measuring cups and spoons, wooden spoons, plastic cups, etc. In our house this activity can literally keep my kids occupied for an hour
  • Reading Time: books they love and have heard a thousand times can be “read” to you and books they’ve only read a couple times can be re-read now. Expand this activity by asking if they want to write a book. You can write the words for them if they don’t write yet, but let them have full charge telling the story. You can even expand this activity to the next day by asking them if they want to illustrate their book. Want to expand it for another day? Have the kids create costumes and a set and enact their book for you!
  • Donation Time: you may have cleaned out rooms before the holidays to make way for new toys, or you may not, but now is a great time to do it again, after all it has been three months. Get two garbage bags and help the kids go through their stuff throwing garbage in one bag and toys that still have life but are not entertaining for your kiddos anymore into another bag (feel free to let them do this by their selves if their old enough while you go do your own stuff)
  • Slime: there are TONS of videos on YouTube that will show you how to make your own slime and you are almost certain to have the necessary ingredients on hand. This can take half a day from finding the “recipe” the kids want to try, to following the recipe, to playing with their slime
  • Cards: did the kids already thank everyone for their holiday gifts? Have they made Mother’s Day cards for grandma (or you)? Is anyone having a birthday soon? When was the last time you thanked your waste disposal person or your package delivery or mail delivery person? There are tons and tons of reasons to make your own cards (especially just to say hi!). They can make cards for family members, friends, people in your neighborhood who may be elderly and at particular risk of infection right now but who could use a happy card to cheer them up, etc. (please note that if you DO make cards for the elderly that you should actually wait to give the to them since the the card itself could transmit the virus to them)
  • Camping/Cooking: build forts or tents in the living room and then pretend camp in them. Have a picnic lunch in the tent or a high tea. Honestly, there’s so much about food prep that can take up so much time if done with children instead of for children. Not only does it take up time, it’s also teaching a valuable skill
  • Dance Party: we love to throw on music and have a family dance party. We all dance as wild as we can for as long as we can. Great way to use up energy and hilarious. It’s also fun to then play a Simon Says style dance party where everyone tries to copy the moves of another person
  • Laundry: even the youngest kids can marry socks and the older ones can help with hanging stuff up. Make it fun by playing sock puppets while you find the mate or dressing up your stuffed animals in the clothes before folding and putting away
  • Shoe Boxes: everybody has these bad boys lying about. They are great to turn into DIY doll houses, car parking garages, diaramas, etc.
  • Games/Cards: obviously…
  • Puzzles: when you run out of the ones you have, make your own! A piece of paper or a piece of cardboard painted/drawn on/colored is all you need. Then cut the painting into pieces, mix em up, instant puzzle
  • Plant Seeds/Pits: when we find a particularly delicious orange or apple or avocado (or whatever) we save the seeds. Grab an old egg carton, throw some soil in the egg cups, and stick in your seeds. Water them and wait. Every few days check if they need more water and within a week or so you should see some green popping up from anything that was viable. When they get big enough you can transplant them or cut up the egg carton and give your seedlings away (or if your kids are older and entrepreneurial, they can sell them!)

And since this isn’t really what I do for a living, I’m sure there are way better ideas out there as well. A Google search will probably give you an unending assortment of ideas. This is just what’s been on my mind today as I hear about more and more school closures and hear parents starting to panic not because of the virus but because they simply don’t know what to do with their kids all day.

I sincerely hope you have the ability to stay home with your kids. I sincerely hope you have the disposition to enjoy it. And I sincerely hope you all remain healthy and happy and calm.

~~~That’s one hour~~~

Please Note: I am in no way, shape, or form affiliated with any of the above links. I do not make a penny, get any free stuff, or in any way benefit if you use any of the above information. This is purely caregiver to caregiver love. Be well.

Off-Grid

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“I was married once, you know,” Mary said. The green wide eyed surprise of her best friend betrayed that she did not in fact know. “I don’t like to talk about it because it reminds me of just how foolish I was, probably still am, I don’t know,” she continued.

“You were foolish for getting married?” Sarah asked, taking a sip of her water to hide any facial expressions she might be inadvertently sending out.

Mary laughed, “no, not for getting married. I was young and in love and full of passion, and that may be foolish, but it’s also beautiful. No, I wasn’t foolish for getting married, but for staying married for as long as I did to a man who was,” here she stopped, looking at the pot of hanging flowers purple and pink and blue, appreciating their splendor and perfection and wondering if they held the word for her husband in their petals for her to read, “well, let’s just say he was passionate, too, but dangerously so.”

“I’d love to hear about it if you’d like to tell me,” Sarah prompted, desperately hoping Mary would continue the story but sitting back casually in her chair and combing her fingers through her long dark hair to indicate there was no rush.

“Well,” Mary began, taking a moment to take a drink of her tea and pick a crumb off the tabletop, “when we first married he had all the usual, or well I guess I should just say nothing unusual in his beliefs. He wasn’t sure about God or aliens but he also didn’t believe the moon landing was faked. What I mean is, there was nothing about him that indicated I should be wary, and so I wasn’t. I fell in love, hard, head over heels, pick your overused expression and it would be applicable. We met and were married within six months. We were deliriously happy.”

Sarah was smiling because Mary was smiling, it was infectious, like Mary had been transported back to the beginning of her romance and taken Sarah with her; like Sarah was The Ghost of Christmas Past and they were both looking through the window of Mary’s life.

“We had children, we had friends, we had family, we had everything. You know, people always say they have everything when they have their family with them, and it’s true. We had everything. We didn’t have much money, but we didn’t notice, really. We pinched our way through groceries and the kids never realized we were struggling because we were so creative with things to do and ‘gifts’ at the holidays. It was definitely one of the happiest times of my life, well, those first three years anyway,” Mary swallowed, the lines around her eyes decreasing and turning down as her smile disappeared.

Sarah patted Mary’s hand on the tabletop, the one that had been picking at the tablecloth earlier but was no still and almost lifeless. She wanted to urge her to continue but was afraid that anything she said might bring the story to an abrupt end instead so she bit her tongue, literally, tasting a bit of blood and backing off.

Mary took a deep breath, “but things change. He began to change. Little things at first, things I ignored because they didn’t amount to much on their own: he spent more and more time online, he didn’t want us to buy anything that wasn’t totally and completely made in the USA, he stopped reading books and newspapers and distrusted people who did.”

Sarah’s eyes had gone wide, Mary had noticed and stopped talking, taking a sip of her now cold tea, debating whether or not to continue.

“I realize that when you hear those things all at once, back to back, they sound like huge red flags, massive warnings,” she interlaced her fingers and spread her palms apart, “but it’s not like everything happened at once. These were major changes, sure, but they happened one at a time and very slowly over five years. So slowly that by the time he announced we should move somewhere that wasn’t so populated, so hectic, so expensive, I readily agreed. I too wanted to go live somewhere that our nearest neighbor was twenty acres or more away and where I’d only drive into a big town for the necessities once a month or less. I was eager to live somewhere the kids could have massive tracts of woods to get lost in during the day and maybe a pond or a river to swim in come summer. So that’s what we looked for, and that’s what we found.”

“Hello ladies, everything okay here?” asked their server, as she grabbed an empty plate from the middle of the table and set her hand against the teapot in front of Mary, “some more hot water, maybe?”

“Yes, please,” Mary said, “and perhaps a different tea now? Do you have something citrus, a lemon tea of some kind?”

“Absolutely, yes. Some fresh lemon too? Maybe some honey to temper it?” the waitress asked.

“That would be lovely, yes.”

“And for you?” the server asked looking at Sarah.

“Same, please,” Sarah said dismissively, eager to have the waitress walk away, terrified Mary wouldn’t continue her story if the woman didn’t leave right then.

“Sure, be right back with that,” the waitress said as she disappeared with the now cold and empty teapot and the empty plate.

Mary waited a moment for the server to be out of earshot and then took a deep breath, “I don’t want to bore you with all the little things, let’s just…”

“No! I mean, yes! Ugh, please, continue. I m very curious about all this, this past life I never knew about, please,” Sarah begged.

Mary laughed, “I suppose it is interesting to hear about a persons past life, especially when it deviates from the person you think you know. Like being a child and realizing your parents are more than just ‘mom and dad’ that they actually have a life and names of their own that existed before you came to be.”

Sarah chuckled with Mary and then sat back as she saw the server approach with their teas, making sure there was space on the table for everything so the server could set it all down and move on as quickly as possible. After the obligatory tea pour they shooed the waitress away and Mary continued.

“We ended up in Wyoming, which I don’t recommend,” she laughed lightly, “but it’s where we could afford several acres and where the law didn’t much care what you did with yourself or your land or your kids. We homeschooled, we started a garden, we lived in an old cabin that we slowly retrofitted to meet our needs through all four seasons. It was the first time I’d ever experienced all four seasons so distinctly and intensely, and part of that was because I was spending so much time outside which I hadn’t before then. But the ways in which my husband was changing, his passions, were becoming more and more time consuming.”

She stopped to take a sip of her tea, pour in a bit of honey and stir it, Sarah mimicking her not because she thought the tea needed honey but because she was so enthralled by Mary and her story.

“The first year we were there we had a pretty good garden, we were able to grow much more than we could eat and I learned how to preserve things. Starting with canning and moving on to pickling and things it had never occurred to me to do myself. It was exciting and I felt so self-sufficient. We did so well that we decided we should try to live completely on our own. This was a bit of the ‘made in the USA’ passion turned into a ‘completely off grid’ obsession, but still I didn’t see it. Or at least I didn’t see it as a warning sign. I was too proud of what I’d learned to do, too enamored by the idea of self-sufficiency.”

~~~That’s one hour~~~

COVID-19

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It’s astounding to me that Italy has effectively shut down, no school, no businesses except groceries and pharmacies, shut down. I’ve been to Italy twice in my life, and been grateful for each visit. It’s a country I have a heartfelt kinship with although I don’t believe my DNA test revealed any Italian in my ancestry…hang on while I double check that. Whew, I wasn’t lying, no Italian. So, even though I’m unrelated to the people of the country, it’s a place where I’ve always felt at home and me, a person who can get lost in my own neighborhood, has never once gotten lost in Rome. It’s like a map of the city is written somewhere in my bones and becomes accessible the moment I arrive. Sigh.

My first trip to Italy I met a friend in Rome who did some touristy thing with me one day, and then we went our separate ways. The touristy things were cool, some would argue necessary, but my favorite parts of Rome were the things I bungled into: a piece of art on the outside of an apartment building that looked like a window with a woman peeking out, the cafe that made absolutely phenomenal coffee and beyond perfect cannoli, and my all time favorite, the crazy middle of nowhere restaurant that was practically empty when I arrived and where after the very best meal I have ever eaten in my life I thought I was going to be murdered or raped or sold a slave when the waiter/chef/owner insisted I follow him downstairs and where I was then shown an unbelievable train set of the entire city in perfect and minute detail.

I can’t imagine how many people had plans to travel to Italy in the next few months and now won’t get to go. I can’t imagine what will happen to the US when we eventually succumb to the same lock down, because it’s inevitable. The thing is, the entire world is going to be exposed to COVID-19, there’s no way to avoid it. We will all be exposed and we will all die or become immune, and then COVID-19 won’t be a problem for us until the next generation comes along, the generation that wasn’t alive when this first swept through and therefore isn’t immune. It won’t happen right away, but at some point, there will be enough new generations that haven’t been exposed that we’ll be primed for another outbreak. Unless of course a vaccine is developed before then.

What You Can Do

I was texting with my family about this today and the point I was trying to make is that we will all get it eventually, so there’s no sense worrying about getting it, you will, accept it. The point is that right now everyone is getting it all at once and there’s currently no way to treat all the cases erupting exponentially each day, so your best bet is to do all you can do for yourself and your family and your community to delay getting it as long as possible. Give the medical community a chance to figure out what we’re dealing with and how best to do so.

Take care of yourself:

  • exercise
  • eat well
  • sauna (if you can)
  • keep your immune system up
  • wash your hands
  • stay home as much as possible to avoid contracting the virus or spreading the virus (since you may already have it but not yet be symptomatic)
  • keep abreast of the truth by visiting only vetted sources of information, this is an excellent one: CDC Website on COVID-19

I was speaking with a friend today who, like my husband, has a weakened immune system, and we were saying how important it is for people without weakened immune systems to be aware that just because we can quickly and easily fight off an illness it doesn’t mean that others can. We have a responsibility to ourselves as well as to others not to go out when we’re sick expecting that others will recover as we do.

Mister Rogers’ mom said something beautiful like how even in the worst tragedies there are always helpers and to look for the helpers. I’d like to take this a step further and say look for the humor. Yes, this is a tragic turn of events, especially on the heels of all our political devastation recently, and still there is humor. There are brilliantly hilarious memes circulating and laughter is an important part of keeping your health and your sanity. Some of my favorite memes are the hand washing ones, like this from Imgur and DilligafDiva:

Labyrinth Hand Washing Meme Courtesy of Imgur and DilligafDiva
Labyrinth Hand Washing Meme Courtesy of Imgur and DilligafDiva

I wish you all the best of health now and always. Keep your chin up, and sense of humor intact.

~~~That’s one hour~~~

Hollow

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She’d built the birdhouse out of scrap wood and materials she found here and there. It was an eclectic little house with an off-center roof and a decorative chimney. It looked like an old mill and she wished she had the talent to create a decorative water wheel to put beside it. She’d made an old doorknob into the perch and she’d bent an old license plate to cover the roof and make it waterproof. She slapped on some paint and a few pieces of scrap tin here and there to make it shiny, then hung it up in the oak tree out front.

She watched the bird house every day, hopeful for a feathered occupant, but none arrived. She watched the birds in her yard with an intensity that bordered on madness, and people who saw her about town began taking notice as her mannerisms became odd…or rather, odder since she’d always been a bit different. Now though she was, well, “wild,” as the postmistress said, “the girl is wild. She was just gettin’ into her truck t’other day n’instead a jes gettin’ in like anyone’d do she stopped and hovered there, like a dern hummin’ bird. An’ you know she don’t say ‘hi’ no more, she jes stares at ya, holdin’ so still like maybe ya won’t see her if she don’t move. Wild.”

She’d gone from a woman who could polish off a plate of steak and potatoes with a side salad to a waif of a girl who could barely eat a single scoop of ice cream in one sitting. The waitress at the towns only restaurant went from calling her “the one who can belch like a trucker,” to asking her if she felt alright cause she “ate like a bird now.” Everyone began to notice the wild girl, making outings difficult for her. The staring, the whispers, the concerned pats and questions.

She got so she stopped going to town much at all, there wasn’t anything she needed there really. She’d stopped eating meat a few weeks before, couldn’t stomach it anymore, and was thereby able to get just about everything she needed from her own garden. She missed conveniences like bread, and boxed and canned food, but only in the beginning. After a month she realized she hadn’t thought of that stuff in a week at least. She never opened her refrigerator anymore and decided to unplug it.

As Spring turned to Summer she realized she didn’t hardly spend any time in the house at all. She was always out in the yard minding the garden that had turned a bit wild and restocking the bird feeders and sitting and watching. It was warm enough to sleep outside and she did so, watching the stars overhead and drifting off to the sounds of the frogs near the pond and the crickets everywhere. She was eating less and less, not needing the same number of calories as before and finding fewer and fewer foods delightful. Before she knew it she was eating the seed from the bird feeders with the other birds.

The hair on her arms, legs, and head became itchy, she couldn’t stop scratching at herself day and night. She worried it was a mite from being around the birds all day or perhaps something simpler like the need for lotion, her skin getting drier and drier. After the third day of this scratching she was gashed and bloody from her fingernails but the itching had finally subsided. As the gashes scabbed over they became a multitude of bumps instead of lines and as these healed wisps began to grow out. Her first thought was she had ingrown hairs that were starting to burst through but as the days went on it became clear the wisps were feathers, grey and brown and black.

Soon she was covered in feathers from head to toe. And her hands were no longer hands at all but wings which she played with in the early Autumn breezes, raising them up and down and thrilling at the feel, at the tickle of the wind playing through them. Her legs and feet, too, had changed becoming scaly and claw-like, the toe nails small and sharp. And it wasn’t only the feathers and scales, she felt lighter, not just in her stomach but as if her very bones were hollow, as though someone had sucked the marrow out, the way she used to gnaw on a steak or pork chop bone beck before the very idea made her nauseous.

As the leaves fell from the trees and the mild nights turned chilly, she found herself in a bit of a state. She wouldn’t be able to stay outside much longer, feathers or not. It was simply getting too cold. And what would become of her when the rain and the sleet and the snow came? She’d need a shelter. She thought about going back into the house but as quickly as the thought came to her she realized she was flying and the windows and doors were all closed to her. She flitted around the chairs on the deck, hoping from one to the other, looking in the house from outside and wondering how this had all happened.

She turned from the window and looked out over the yard. The garden now nothing more than an overgrown patch of wild shoots, the lettuce gone to seed, the tomatoes rotting off the vines, the asparagus a beautiful and fragile fern-like bed, blowing in the chilled breeze. She looked to the oak tree and saw the bird house she’d made what felt like years before, could it be years? It hardly seemed like more than a week but had to have been at least a few months. She loved the doorknob perch and wished she’d had the talent to add the little water wheel.

Before she knew it she was there, at the house, sitting on the little doorknob perch. She poked her head inside the house, turning her head this way and that. The little house was empty. She pushed her way inside and realized she fit perfectly. From inside the chilly wind was nothing more than a gentle finger rocking her to sleep. She knew she’d need something to keep her warmer over the next several months but for now the empty little house, full of her, was warm enough. It was perfect.

When she woke in the morning she hopped up and out of the house, perching on the doorknob as she surveyed the area. The ferned out tips of the asparagus would make a soft and light bed. She darted down to the garden and snipped at the ferny bits with her beak. A yank here and a yank there and before she knew it she had several bits of asparagus tips with which to feather her nest. She grabbed a few of the pieces and flew them back up to her house, placing them inside the hole, before flying back for the others. With all the bits in the house she jumped inside and fluffed about creating a little nest among the plants.

~~~That’s one hour~~~