bath, beyond

 You can clearly tell the rooms in this house that I've paid attention to, and the ones that are still pretty much the way they were when we bought them. Take the downstairs bathroom, for example:

Now, there's nothing wrong with this space. It's perfectly tasteful and perfectly functional. It's all that, but it's just not quite mine yet. BUT with a week spent contorting my body into spaces where it's not meant to fit (aka painting), some new fixtures, and a lot of help from Mike mounting things onto the wall in ways that mean they (probably) won't fall off, the bathroom is finally done. It's now a palace that completely reflects me. And maybe the Jetsons. 

candy review

Last year, I bought the boys a fancy advent calendar from the candy company Sugarfina, and each day I posted their reviews of that day's candy on Facebook. The reviews were smart, sweary, irreverent, and so much fun. And the other day, I got a care package from my cousin Cassidy, who is in the Air Force and currently stationed in Japan. She thoughtfully included Japanese Hi-Chew candies for the boys, so we decided to do a special edition candy review. As a bonus, my brother J and nephew John were here visiting, so J got to join in on the fun! (John isn't quite at candy-reviewing age yet, but we'll rope him in someday.) Here is their review, which also will give you a taste of what last year's advent calendar reviews were like.

Strawberry

Liam: Shit kinda bussin.

J: Did you say bussin? I hope that one dies soon.

Liam: It’s ON, bro. What are you talking about?

Max: Pretty chewy.

Liam: Weird but good.

Henry: It’s meh. Tastes like a chewy sweeTART.

Max: He’s lying to us.

J: I can’t read any Japanese but I feel like the number one ingredient is wax.

Liam: What gave you that idea?

J: The texture … but the flavor is there.

Green apple

Liam: It’s green apple time, baby!

Liam: Yuh [nods]

Max: Smells bad, looks bad, flavor is bad … let me taste it real quick. 

Henry: No, just not a good flavor.

Liam: Flavor is strong, can feel it in my nostrils.

Henry: I give that a flat 27 x 10 to the negative fifth.

Liam: That’s still positive, bro.

Liam: Imma give it a 3 x 10 to the eighth meters per second.

[forgive my transcribing skills, friends]

Grape

Liam: Yeah, Imma take one of these for myself. [takes a whole package]

Max: The smell alone puts it over the other two.

Henry: It’s not even a good grape, 8/10.

Max: You said not even good but you gave it an 8?

Henry: It’s still grape tho so it's good.

Liam: This battery acid really burns my throat, 9/10.

Max: Battery acid?!?!

Liam: It’s called satire.

Max: Satire’s supposed to be funny.

Liam: No, that’s parody, goof.

And the final word goes to my favorite brother!

J: The grape ones taste like cat pee smells, but I’m too committed to spit it out. Must maintain the uncle flex.

Thank you so much, Cass, for all the goodies! We love them!

headband

Godzilla fan

Campfire tiger Cass got from a vending machine.
I adore it!

candy candy candy

coffee, then nap

John!

fun with napkins

a self-portrait by John, cameo Aunt Hol

phs winter homecoming

 Y'all, Liam was part of the homecoming court! What a lovely way to mark his final semester of high school. He escorted Olivia, who is in National Honor Society with him. He didn't end up being the king, but we all had a blast watching him be acknowledged by his peers. My dad, Bethany, and my aunt Laura came out to watch too, so he was definitely feeling the love. Check him out:

amari rain

It has come to my attention that in my utter neglect of this blog, I have also failed to mention the arrival of my second great-nephew. Amari joined us in September, and like his big brother, he's an absolute delight. I got to meet him in November when Bethany and I spent a weekend in St. Louis with them. I got to see both boys and Klaudia again last night, now that they're recovered enough from having covid to come for a belated Christmas visit. Amari was perfectly content to snuggle with his great-auntie while Emeri ran around the house with Bethany. Especially in these pandemic times, I'm so grateful for every last visit I get.

Gram with her boys in November

this guy

 Friends, this pandemic has sucked for us all, but I think maybe especially for Henry. He started at new school this year — his first new school since kindergarten! — virtually while most of his classmates were there in person. And once he did go back, he found it hard to adjust. He had a bad first grading period because come on, it's *hard* for a fifth-grader to have the executive skills he needs to make sure none of his work slips through the cracks. But he's been on a mission since then to do his very best, and as of yesterday, he was rocking all A's in his classes. And finally (finally!) he got to go to a friend's birthday party in person a couple weeks ago.

And he's got a smile that makes me so happy every time I see him. Here he is acting as the photographer for our little National Honor Society backyard photo shoot.

national honor society

Sunday afternoon was "Super Sunday" at PHS, meaning alllllll the awards get given in various locations throughout the school. And lucky us, this year we got to be part of it, because Liam was inducted into the National Honor Society.

We are so proud of him! Not just for this particular achievement, although this is a big one and he didn't quite make the cut last year for his first year of eligibility. The committee cited a lack of leadership qualifications as the reason he didn't make it last year, so this year, between some community service efforts and serving as manager of the girls tennis team, he more than made up for it. And the other qualities they look for he has in spades: scholarship, service, and character.

In scholarship, this young man is a star. He has taken five AP classes this year alone, and he's been pushing to take five more next year. He really gets into everything he studies, and he's really dedicated to getting it done right. I often think it's maybe a disservice to the younger boys, because Liam just ... takes care of everything he needs to ... and since he's the first, I sort of naturally assume that the others will follow suit. But no, it turns out that Liam is pretty much the exception to the rule, at least in this way.

In service, Liam is the first one to step up and volunteer for anything. He's in the community service club at school, but he also volunteers whenever there's a need, from setting up and running parking at the Blueberry Festival to spending a morning every spring cleaning up the cemetery. 

And character? Get out of here. Liam has been all character, all the time since the day he was born. Yes, I know, they don't mean that kind of character. But he's got both kinds! And I for one can't wait to see how he uses that character (both kinds) out in the world.

So here's to our firstborn, our trailblazer, our Liam. Even if he did stand there during the whole ceremony alternating between making horrible faces and pretending to be asleep standing up ... all so we couldn't get a good picture. Don't think I didn't notice, Liam!

   

we're still here

I know, I know. It's been months since I've blogged. I just ... haven't had any words. That's what depression does sometimes. At least it's what depression does to me. I haven't been writing, I've only recently started taking bird pictures and reading books again, and heaven only knows when I'll feel up to going for a hike.

It's not a thing I talk about a lot, but sure, I've been prone to sporadic bouts of depression for most of my adult life. If you asked me today, I might tell you that it's never been this bad or lasted this long before, but then again, that might not actually be true because I'm a human, and we tend to look at the past through a rosier lens than the present. And honestly, this particular present has had a lot of exacerbating factors. But things are starting to get better.

So what have I been doing? Whatever I can. Painting is a quiet and solitary thing, so I've painted the kitchen, the dining room, the back entry, and some doors. I like painting, but I also like not falling to my death, so I hired a nice, energetic, flexible young man who is just starting out in the painting business to take care of the two-story front entryway. It's a beautiful light blue now. He did a great job. I've been filling the house with color, both because I love it and because it's a way to remind myself that not everything exists in grayscale. 

Sometimes I build legos (I have so many botanical legos now!). Sometimes I walk the dogs. And sometimes it's all I can do to get through the workday and make sure everyone has what they need and gets where they need to go when they need to be there, and everything else can just wait because I'm tired and just want to take a nap.

I'm fully vaccinated now, and so is Mike. Liam will get his second shot tomorrow, and hopefully the CDC will approve the vaccine for adolescents later today so I can get Max scheduled first thing tomorrow. For now, they're only approving ages 12 and up, so Henry will still have a few months to go, but four out of five is great compared to where we were last year. 

Anyway, life goes on. We've had Christmas and New Year's and Easter and Mother's Day. We only have two weeks left in the school year. Liam is managing the girls tennis team, and Max is running on the track team. I just signed Liam and Henry up for city league summer tennis. We got the front of the house regraded, and expanded a garden bed that is currently a huge dirt patch for Mike to fill with all sorts of happy plants, if we ever reach last frost. We'll go on vacations again, and the world will rearrange itself into a new kind of normal, though I doubt we'll ever take our bare faces for granted again. 

And I'll write more words, I promise. It's been a long, bitter season. I'm ready for better times.

it's bad out there

 So, since I'm not an expert in health policy, I'm going to quote someone who is. I've talked about Andy Slavitt before. I follow him on Twitter and find his daily updates to be equal parts informative and terrifying. Yesterday's update was definitely the latter. I've combined his thread into one text block, but otherwise these are his words as he posted them.

COVID Update December 17: This is my worst thread. I hate writing it. But I have to write it. 

This is what happened yesterday in California. 61,000 new cases in a single day. 

But it’s not the cases. It’s the trajectory. 35,000 prior peak.

This is what happened in Minnesota. It’s not the decline to still historically high numbers. It’s that the governor was forced to majorly let up on restrictions yesterday at the first sign— a sure fire sign they are coming back.

You may ask “how can he be forced?” And you would be right, but the legislature has unique authority in Minnesota. They had threatened to remove the health commissioner & throw the state into disarray.

In New York, Andrew Cuomo had a press conference about COVID. It wasn’t the press conference itself where he warned about an overwhelmed system. He had done that last Spring. It was that this time he kept emphasizing the economy in his pleas to New Yorkers.

Yesterday one American died every 30 seconds. But no one has the tolerance to talk about it any longer. 

We’re forced to talk about the economy. Because enough people are apparently no long motivated by 3600 people dying. In a day.

Are we at the bad part yet? It’s getting worse. The people dying today got infected before Thanksgiving. Before people infected their families. And Thanksgiving was a sh-t show by all accounts.

So I have taken a peak at what the numbers suggest comes next. And that’s when I got even more horrified.

If things continue as they are— full hospitals, threats of strikes, PPE running out— and very soft, late, in enforced public health measures— what we are experiencing now will get much worse. 

Many Americans will absolutely as a badge of pride gather in large numbers for Christmas now. We know this for sure.

Because of: Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day & Thanksgiving. 

What does all this mean? 

It means that despite beginning vaccine rollouts, we may not have even have the deaths we will have by the time we get to spring.

It means we could have days in January where more than 6000 people die in a day from COVID.

Much of this is driven by non-compliant behavior. People who refuse. A president who doesn’t care. Essential workers we push out. People who live in poor working conditions. 

And Kristy Noem.

Even Ron DeSantis has been willing to look at CDC reports on outbreaks. But not Kristy Noem.

Even with governors who care, who are doing their best, they are facing such pressure from non-believers, legislators— all 100% followers of Trump— that they compromise on their compromises.

Conversation yesterday. “We know gyms should be closed. But we’re getting tremendous pushback that they should be open 50%. So I’m holding the line and opening at 25%.”

These showboat compromises are good for no one. 

I have sympathy for all of the people who have to make tough decisions.

But there are easy decisions too. Easy decisions are the ones where more people live if you make them. Easy decisions mean supporting the people losing their livelihoods so we can be safe. 

Right now there are people who are in 4 categories of compliance:

1-Taking very few risks

2-Taking more risks than they think

3-Forced to take risks because of job/living

4-Carefree

It would be one thing if the losses were confined to people in category 4. Expressing their liberty.

But category 3 (essential workers, ppl facing homelessness, multi-gen houses) suffer disproportionately based on Category 4 behavior. 

As prevalence grows more & more people in the first 2 categories— occasionally letting their guards down but trying very hard— are more & more at risk.

As are people who need the hospital for other reasons.

We are poised for science to bail us out before too long. But here, the same elements that plague us we will face again. People who choose not to be safe because they see numbers dropping. People who spread false rumors about the vaccines.

I write these painful perspectives because you have to be smart for everyone who isn’t. It’s that driver’s ed defensive driving principal we learned in high school. It won’t always be there. But it will for now.

In the meantime 2 things. First— ask every person you agree to spend time with this simple question: Have you been in contact w someone who tested positive for COVID?

Ask them. It may feel weird but ask them. Amazing how many people will answer yes when they think about it. 

There’s little we can do about people who don’t care. About a leader who feeds into it. History will be the judge. In the meantime, please, get there to see it & protect your family & neighbors. 

Let's keep fighting.

deadliest days

So this meme has been going around, and the information is as of December 7. Today is December 11, and we already need a new ranking.

Updated rankings:

1. Galveston Hurricane, 1900: 8,000

2. Battle of Antietam, 1862: 3,600

3. Two Days Ago, 12/9, COVID: 3,088

4. Yesterday, 12/10, COVID: 3,067

5. San Francisco Earthquake, 1906: 3,000

6. September 11, 2001: 2,977

7. Thursday, December 3, COVID: 2,861

8. Wednesday, 12/2, COVID: 2,762

9. Three Days Ago, 12/8, COVID: 2,655

10. Friday, 12/4, COVID: 2,439

So six of the 10 deadliest days (yeah, I added one; it bothered me to not stop on an even number) in U.S. history have been from COVID, and have happened in the past 10 days. And just FYI, I did fact-check these numbers. The COVID numbers I added come from the COVID Tracking Project.  

As if that's not terrifying enough, look at this tweet from Dr. Ashish Jah, who is the current dean of the Brown University School of Health and former director of the Harvard Global Health Institute:

Friends, we're in trouble here. Nearly 4,000 people will die on January 1. That's almost half the population of Plymouth ... in one day.

I've been thinking for a while now that it's only a matter of time before I start hearing every day about someone I know personally having COVID. Well, that time is here. Almost every day, I'm hearing that a friend, a relative, someone I went to high school with, or someone I otherwise know personally has been diagnosed with it. In our house, we're waiting for test results (again) for four of us.

And what comes next? Well, now it's probably only a matter of time before someone I know personally dies from it. At least two people I've met have died (we didn't really "know" each other, but this family rented a house from my family years ago, and two members have died in the past few weeks) already. 

And what's our government doing? Oh, right, fucking around asking the Supreme Court to invalidate 20 million votes in four states so Trump can stay in office. And blocking the Biden team from getting useful information that would allow them to actually help Americans. 

We're so screwed.

surprise, surprise

School called this afternoon. It turns out that Henry is a close contact of someone who tested positive for COVID-19, so he has to quarantine at home for the next two weeks. We knew it was only a matter of time, but still, this sucks. He says the close contact is the kid who sits next to him at lunch, and if they just found out her test results this afternoon, it stands to reason that she got tested sometime at the end of last week, which means Henry is four or five days into being exposed (and if he was exposed, he has definitely exposed the rest of us in the meantime). I'll take him to get tested later this week (or earlier, if he develops symptoms). He is not very happy right now.

Meanwhile, all of us are tired, and I don't just mean tired of the pandemic. Most days the boys go up and take naps when they get home from school. Some days I do too. Friday, Max came home from school, had a snack, and went up to take a nap ... and didn't wake up until Saturday morning. At which point he had a cup of coffee, talked to me for a few minutes, then decided he was still really tired and went back to sleep until early afternoon. Yesterday, I felt a little off after lunch, so I went up to lay down ... and ended up sleeping for FOUR hours. Henry also took a long nap yesterday and woke up feeling completely out of sorts. I'm not sure what's going on here, but it's definitely not the norm.

Having said that, some things are still pretty normal. Like Saturday afternoon when I sent the boys out to hang ornaments on the tree in the driveway, and they ended up having sword fights with the stakes we use to mark the driveway in the winter. See? Who could have predicted that would happen? (Me. I predicted it. Which is why I also had them put the stakes in the ground that afternoon.)

and here we are

It took roughly a decade to get to November 3 of this year, yet somehow the month (!!) that has followed has gone by in the blink of an eye. 

We spent Thanksgiving just like we've spent every other important day this year: just the five of us. Both of our families had gatherings, but we opted to stay home to keep everyone a little bit safer (not just us, but our families). Mike cooked a turkey, which he then promptly turned into delicious turkey avocado enchiladas. We did some projects around the house, and then had a family work day out in the barn Saturday where we made another tiny dent in shoveling out all the literal and figurative shit that's been out there since before we moved in. It's a little like finding an attic filled with stuff, and you don't know if it will be trash or treasure. Yeah, like that, except with manure and nesting critters.

Suddenly we're into December, and preparing for a Christmas season that will look and feel vastly different than the ones that came before. Will any Christmas ever be normal again? Who knows — but this one definitely won't.

If you're assuming that means we won't be seeing anyone for Christmas, you're right. There's just no way that it can be safe for everyone. And for us, that's ok. We're not religious, so to us Christmas is just an excuse to spend time with people we care about — and honestly, we would rather have that time when there aren't accompanying expectations and traditions and stresses. I've never really seen the point in a day of family obligation to celebrate for the sake of tradition; I would much rather see people spontaneously on a random fall evening than feel obligated to make noodles for 125 people. 

So here's the thing: If you're a person who usually buys gifts for us or for the boys, you should know that the gift we really want, the gift we've ALWAYS wanted, is time. Time to be together without the pressure of an official engagement. Time to form real connections throughout the year instead of getting together on prescribed days of obligatory celebration. We want your stories. We want to know you. And we want to know that you really know us.

I am fully aware, believe me, that time together is not something we're going to get physically this year. It's just not. And that's ok, because what I'm talking about isn't necessarily just a physical togetherness. I've been thinking a LOT about how to make the end of the year special, and how to connect with people when we're not going to physically connect. And for me, that means I'm reassessing the old traditions and thinking about what's really important. 

I probably won't see any of my aunts, uncles, or cousins this year. ANY of my family members who don't live in this house, really. So I had this idea that we should do a gingerbread house competition. Anyone who wants to participate will buy the same $10 gingerbread house kit from Target (I have five of them lined up in my office at this very minute), and we'll all decorate them and post pictures in our online family group. We'll have Aunt Rita be the judge, and she'll award prizes to winners in each age group. And what are the prizes, you ask? Well, I don't know yet, but I know they'll be special. I've asked my family to donate prizes that are either handmade or that mean something to us, like a memento. For my part, I'll offer up a copy of the photo memory book I made for Gramps for his 80th birthday, and also one of my great-grandpa's business cards from Jeffirs Motor Co. that has a handwritten note on the back: "next week's allowance." (Side note: Aunt Rita tells me that she and Grandma Ethel both got an allowance every week. Aunt Rita got $10 pocket money, and Grandma Ethel got grocery and spending money. So this note could refer to either of them.)

It's a silly competition, but I think it will be a lot of fun and will foster a sense of togetherness that will otherwise be missing this year. Plus I'm super excited about my top-secret gingerbread project. I really shouldn't even talk about it because I'm not sure I have the artistry to pull it off, but I'm damned well going to try.

Will I do a traditional card and letter this year? I dunno. Maybe not. It certainly isn't the most personal way to reach out to people. I might do something totally different. Let's be honest, this year has sucked, and there's not a whole lot to write about. BUT this year is also an opportunity to redefine what we want from our connections with people. And I'm all about that.

So I encourage you, friends, to keep this a little in mind as you go about your holiday shopping. If you want to buy a traditional gift, that's great! But also maybe think about ways you can personally connect with the person you're giving a gift to. Write a letter. Send a photo that means something to you, and enclose a little backstory that reveals something of yourself. Use Zoom, or FaceTime, or the phone and have a real conversation, just you and someone you care about. And then make that a habit. Drop something in the mail every month, just to delight whoever's on the other end. Christmas isn't the only time your people want to hear from you. 

well, that's a damned relief

 Joe Biden has won the election, thank all available gods.

There's still so much work to do, starting with two runoff Senate races in Georgia that will decide control of that body. We also have to undo all the damage Trump has done, not just to our systems of democracy, but to people who have suffered immeasurably under his administration. The kids who are still separated from their parents. The grieving families of the COVID-19 dead. The people who have "recovered" but are still suffering lasting symptoms. Those who have lost their jobs, their homes, their security, their future prospects. 

And we have to work to undo the systemic racism that undergirds our political process. We have to abolish or outsmart the Electoral College, and expand the franchise so more Americans vote in every election, and their voices count equally. We have to fund systems of opportunity for marginalized people. There's so much to do that there's no way it will get done in a single term. But progress can happen. 

And we'll do it all in the face of the racist and sexist attacks against our vice president-elect, Senator Kamala Harris. She is such an inspiration, and I'm so glad she has broken this glass ceiling. One more to go, in time.

This transition period is terrifying. Trump is basically a trapped animal now, and there's no telling what he will slash and burn on his way out. Meanwhile, coronavirus is rampant across the country. We're seeing more than 100,000 new cases EVERY DAY, even with the minimal testing under this administration. Indiana alone is seeing more than 4,000 new cases every day. Our county has wide community spread. Even right this minute, we're waiting on a couple of test results in our house because Henry is close friends with a kid who is a close contact of another kid who tested positive. I'm believe Henry is fine, but we need to make sure.

At the beginning of this, I was blogging every day to try to make sense of it, so that the boys would remember this wild and unprecedented time. But as the months have dragged by, the problems have gotten so big that it's hard to make them make sense, and even harder to put them in context. Honestly, there IS NO CONTEXT for this. All we can do is what we've been doing since March: stay isolated, and try not to get it or spread it. Hope we can keep ourselves safe long enough for a vaccine that works. Hope our loved ones do the same.

That hope is a little easier today than it was yesterday, now that the Biden/Harris administration is going to be a reality. 

isolation vacation

 

We got back a week ago from spending a week on the Outer Banks, which is one of our favorite places in the whole world. This time we didn't stay on Ocracoke, opting instead for a beachfront pad in South Nags Head. We did go to Ocracoke for a day trip though, and we made sure to get Eduardo's tacos while we were there.

For at least the first six months or so of pandemic times, we figured vacation was impossible. But slowly we started to see how it could work, and we decided to make fall break our goal for getting away. At first, I bought tickets to fly to Las Vegas to see some national parks, but we couldn't figure out a way to make that feel safe to us with all the transitions, so we nixed that plan in favor of a driving vacation, and it worked out really well.

We didn't eat in any restaurants (though we did get carryout). We didn't go to crowded places. We went into one souvenir shop, early in the morning, when it wasn't too crowded, and we only bought the things we were looking for and then got the heck out of there. We went into one gift shop, at Bodie Island lighthouse, but that shop had a limit of 8 people, and we were the only ones in there. We went grocery shopping twice. 

Most of the time, we stayed at our house, venturing down to the beach several times a day. I had to do a little work while we were gone, but I had the privilege of doing it with a view of the ocean every time I looked up from my laptop. Since we were there on the off season, there was barely anyone on the beach, and definitely nobody anywhere near us. The water was too chilly for me and Mike, but the boys managed to swim at least four times during the week. 

One day we ventured to the Wright Brothers National Memorial, but once we got there and saw how crowded it was (even though it was outdoors), we turned around and left. It just wasn't worth it to risk our health for something that will be there next time if we still want to see it.

Most afternoons, Mike and one or two of the boys went hiking in different nature areas, none of which were crowded either. He took a ton of bird and animal pictures, which I'll let him share himself. In fact, though I took the pictures in this post, Mike was the primary photographer for this trip. I took a lot of naps and gave myself permission to stop worrying so much and just focus on being happy for the week, whatever that looked like. And it was glorious.

And now we're home, and the election is tomorrow, and the pandemic is out of control. We're still isolating for another week (except for the mandatories, school and work) to make sure we didn't inadvertently get infected, but as of now, all of us are feeling pretty good. Then again, ask me tomorrow.