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Thursday, April 23, 2020

Sanity Soothers and Sheltering at Home

Things are maybe heating up at home, as this period of living under quarantine lags on. I've come up with a list of small things to help, to be done over the course of a single minute or an hour:

*Slicing citrus scraps into small strips over the compost bowl. The smell is divine, the sense of purpose all-encompassing.

*Pulling weeds, the tiny spring-time weeds, one by one. Bye-bye Creeping Charley, I didn't know you made such teeny tiny hair-width tendrils before blowing up all over my lawn and into the crevices of my garden boxes again. I'll let you survive out in the open until you've done your flower-pollenator duty, then I'll see you later, my stinkies.

While you are worrying about everything, remember to start with a breath, with love, with gratitude. See: Unexpected Homeschooling and Homeschooling? One Minute and Two Hours a Day.

*Knitting lace, just one row, watching the intricate stitches scroll forth.



No lace? Knit a row in a new washcloth, between serving dinner and proofreading your son's schoolwork. Breathe as you do, it feels like playing hooky, doesn't it?

*Non-knitters; braiding your husband's growing hair, or anything else you can get your fingers on; the strings on a mop, dental floss. This is the time to learn how to waste time. It is an acquired skill.

*Pulling burrs or pills off of a garment, just 5 or 6 at a time.
Any more and it becomes a chore of overwhelming proportions.

* Throw something away. And one more thing.

* Rearrange a small or large corner; of your desk, of a room. Feel the new energy released. Especially if you threw something away in the rearranging.

* Make a pot of tea with real tea, take your time.

There are all sorts of household chores one could do, but I imagine you have already discovered them. You know; cleaning the filter of the shop-vac again, maybe out on the patio, preferably on a day with little wind, so the dust bunnies do not escape straight into the neighbor's yard. If it is a nice day, they are out too, wondering what you are doing now. "Is she; cleaning the ridges on the filter of that thing? Is that a...?" Yes, and probably. It is such a satisfaction to have a clean shop vac, isn't it? As my grandfather used to write in his letters to me; "A clean house is a thing of beauty and joy forever." Ah, I see you know me too well, certain of my readers. Did you laugh hard enough to?  Never mind. This was supposed to be about calming activities.

Take a walk. Every evening when the work day is done, my husband and I go for a bike ride or a walk, the days it has not snowed, that is. We have had an insane amount of snow for April. I take pictures so I can share with my family. We check in each day in a group text.












* Check in with loved ones. This has been a sustaining detail of my days. Two group texts; one for my siblings and parents, another for my kids and husband, have us feeling connected although far apart, or in stitches over a dumb meme or thrilled over photos of the earth's changing environmental pollution-clearing. Keep in touch, even if you are in the same house.

Others I've given up on or that do not fit my lifestyle:

* Nail-painting. Since I do not have an opportunity to be in a courtroom or anywhere else just now, I thought it might be fun to paint my nails outrageous colors. Color is fun. Learning to paint precisely enough to mimic a professional manicure is even fun. Chipped color 24 hours later is not fun. The painting of the nails is not fun enough to warrant repeating it every day. I've been through blood red, mint green and irisy purple. It's time to go back to Naked Nelly for me.

* Joining any new group, organization or planning committee, no matter how valuable their contribution to the world may be. Due to no sports, music or theatre activities of the kids, I have been available for every group, committee and other meeting proposed the past two weeks, so I was able to see, first-hand, how over-committed my previous self allowed me to get. This is not a time in which you are obliged to become a super-human. You are already a super-human. Let it be enough. Take care.

Sunday, April 5, 2020

The Great Unread Books Fail

Be honest; did you not at least think about reading all of the books you may have waiting unread on your shelves during this time of sheltering at home? Did you have BIG PLANS to systematically read them, maybe in order of acquisition, or alphabetically by author's last name, or by some other extrinsic method of ranking order?


Yeah, me too, until confronted with the actual reading part. Here are my first four attempts. I began with the most recently purchased; Colson Whitehead's "The Underground Railroad", it is, after all, a work of fiction, so how hard could it be to get through? While compelling, it is, like "Crime and Punishment", distinctly unnerving to a soul already troubled by current times. The cruelties of slavery are so precisely depicted that my heart hurts reading it. Likewise, the world described in "Crime and Punishment" is one of such abject desperation and depravation that I barely lasted three chapters. Besides, it is a nasty, small paperback form that does not invite an enjoyable read.

They have both been moved from "nightstand fiction" to "during daylight hours, once I've read the non-fiction selections". Chomsky is an excellent read, but not at all reassuring either. Nevertheless, I've picked up where I left off, seven or eight years ago, and once in awhile, I am reading a few pages. As to SPQR, I bought it for a child, for whom it was much too dry and academic. I picked it up, read for a bit, and then, like now, allowed myself to be distracted by something easier, brighter, more fun. Today, it is back to an old favorite; "Eats, Shoots and Leaves," by a fellow lover-of-punctuation; Lynne Truss. I'll tackle one of the others tomorrow. Happy quarantine reading.