Showing posts with label coronavirus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coronavirus. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

March Madness

 Despite the title of this post, I don't really follow basketball, but our son just started playing. His first game was last night. They lost, but he had fun being on the court. It seems March came in like a lamb and is going out like a lion.  The month started quietly enough, but here we are at the end of March with a full calendar.

As a "Journal of the Plague Year," this blog hasn't functioned very well. I am an unreliable reporter. As we have passed the one year anniversary of the initial lockdown, it seems appropriate to stop and reflect, but I don't have time to gather big thoughts about the world, and only a minute to reflect on how our lives have changed, which is as much as a great many people's, and probably in relative terms, about as much as they usually change in a year.  The biggest shift has been having the high schoolers at home doing Zoom school and having more family time, which has been wonderful. The kids have been more pleasant than usual. We haven't moved or had a major life change, as some people have, nor have we lost any family members, thankfully.  My husband is looking for a new job, but not because he lost his.  I had a long list of projects I was going to complete with all of this free time, and none of them has been finished. 

Now the kids are back at school two days a week. Many California public schools remain closed, but our district is small and well-endowed, so teachers were amenable to returning, even though the state teachers' unions still are fighting against returning to their jobs. Many teachers still teach from home, because half of the students are still are Zoom. Sports, however, are going full force, with practice every day and games on Fridays for football and throughout the week for basketball. Cross Country season lasted 5 weeks and is already over, but track has begun. Church is back inside. Religious education has started up again in small groups.  We have some social events on the calendar. My husband is vaccinated. We are traveling at the end of the month. Life is almost back to normal.

I know in other states life is almost completely back to pre-pandemic normal, but it is hard to shed the perception that danger lurks in every breath and on every surface. Masks and hand sanitizer will likely remain in use here for a while longer. I have a friend who just caught Covid a couple weeks ago, and one who got it in between her two shots. The first friend just lost her sense of smell; the second was pretty sick. Neither knows anyone they came in contact with who had been sick. And both are fully recovered.

Aside from the return to school and activities, the big issue commanding attention around here is my husband's job search.  He has had some interviews, and jobs are available, but not in the number that we had hoped. My top choice for him is a job for a university that has a hiring freeze. This lack of openings is one of the most challenging parts of the pandemic for us personally. He will find a job, but it may not be the job that I envisioned.  We are going to have some hard decisions to make about what to do next. I keep hoping that just the right thing will miraculously show up, but that hasn't happened yet, despite our pleas to St. Joseph.  We have been working on some discernment tools to help navigate this decision, and I know everything will work out, but I am having to let go of some romantic ideals.  The reality is our family life has shifted quite a bit since those romances first formed in my imagination, so those visions are ghosts, anyway.   

I return to the classroom next month for the second quad term, so I have some to do items on my job, too. I prefer the classroom for teaching, but will miss the ease of teaching from home. So now back to work. Below are some pictures from the last month. Spring is in the air, and I've been welcoming the return of our pink flowers around the house.  Lent is nearing its conclusion, all too soon; I still have more inner conversions to work on! But the kids are beginning to plan our Easter feast.  The difference between this Lent and last Lent is startling in retrospect. What will next year bring? 


A full calendar for this one: Swimming, ballet, religious ed, library visits and playdates



Hiking locally

A rock scramble to the top

The little free libraries in town celebrated the National Day of Unplugging with a scavenger hunt.

We visited 6 of the 12 or so in our town to find prizes - some of which we left for the next hunter, since we don't need more bookmarks and rubber band bracelets.

This one lives in a particularly colorful garden.

Seabee ball at home. Little did I know that when I skipped the ball two years ago to go on retreat, I wouldn't get to go again. Maybe someday we'll go as retirees.



Signs of spring

The climbing rose smells heavenly.

But its delicate blossoms don't do well as cut flowers.

I have kalanchoe in 5 colors around the house, but this is my favorite.

Runners!

Spoiled mongrel.

Hike 2. Three Sisters Falls.

This was great time of year to do this hike - it's often dry.

Hellebore on the path.

Lupine starting to bloom

A misty day kept crowds down and made greenery look magical.







Tuesday, September 22, 2020

Sailing through September

As they do for many if not most people lately, the hours have been long and the days short.  I have a checklist that keeps growing instead of getting shorter.  But I'm taking a midmonth pause from the to-do list to catch up the continuing saga of life 'round here, although we don't have much to report in the way of events - mostly conversations about the news. 

I think I left off last time having attended the home school meeting.  Since then, I have read a few more articles about the "Mass Exodus" movement. This group of people who discuss moving to other states is much larger than I realized.   In fact, there are many who contemplate moving from one state to another where others are contemplating moving from.  So total population may shift but not actually change.  There are maps that identify states friendly to home schooling, friendly to anti-vaxxers, friendly to people who don't want to pay high property taxes.  You can pick a state that is more liberal or more conservative - and people who are in those first 3 groups could be either liberal or conservative, although I suppose if you were more liberal you would have a hard time leaving a state because you didn't want to pay high property taxes.  

Since we are in the middle of contemplating a move ourselves, a move that we may have some choice in, I've been sifting through some of these maps  - I like the one that shows the rate that different states tax military retirement income and the map of places with access to outdoor recreation. My daughter made a map where she outlined states that she absolutely would not move to and states that she would consider and states that she would prefer.  Her basis of choice is where she perceives she would be safe. She doesn't like the DC area because of concerns about kidnapping and sex trafficking, but we live in one of the cities with the very highest rates of those crimes in the country - if not the world. This reputable site maps economic issues - highest rate of personal consumption expenditures and highest rate of economic resources from outdoor recreation were two I looked up.  Also on our list of consideration is where our children might end up and where our family currently lives.  Seeing as we have one child who swears she is never leaving California and another who will probably head east after graduation, and five others who may end up anywhere, basing our home address one proximity to our offspring will be hard.

A friend and I went for a hike this weekend and discussed our ideal home, and we both were in agreement that we'd like to have a smallish permanent address but then own a big ramshackle vacation home where everyone can gather in the summers. I'm partial to the lake home vs. the beach house, and even better if the lake house is in the mountains - a place where there isn't much to do except swim, hike, eat well, and sit on the back porch and read.  We'd go stay the summer there, and the kids could all come for their vacations with the grandkids at various times, overlapping perhaps for the Fourth of July. 

But wait - that's for old people! - we're talking about retirement, but it's not REALLY retirement! We have a whole lifetime to live still... maybe. I have trouble remembering how old we really are, especially when even though I could have a grandchild in a year or two, I'm still concerned about getting pregnant. 

Our deadline for making an actual choice about staying in the Navy or getting out keeps getting postponed - it used to be June? Now it might be October? More and more it looks like retirement is the direction we are heading, but the state of the economy and the ease of staying put here one more year to get our son who will be a senior through high school are our two biggest concerns when we consider staying in.  I have to admit, although I complain regularly about living here, it will be hard to leave the good weather, the proximity to mountains and shore, the ease of getting to the library, the grocery store, the church, our friends' back porch... 

On the other hand, I still am frustrated with our school and our church for not providing our kids with the education I should be giving them myself - other than that the teenagers really would benefit from hearing someone else say, "Mass is a wonderful thing!" "Reading will broaden your world, open doors, expand your heart and mind, fill your hours with ideas and images that will give you more satisfaction than that video game or app..."  I've been to three planning meetings about how we can safely provide catechesis during the coronavirus, and each one we have come up with good ideas, and then a couple weeks later, I hear we aren't doing anything.  It makes me contemplate exodus to a different parish.

Perhaps reading Christine Watkins' The Warning for our book club last week was not the best idea.  One of our book club members has lately been hooked on end of the world videos and ideas. This book has been getting a lot of word of mouth promotion in certain circles. I actually talked to our priest about it this weekend, and he seemed very hesitant to give any credence to personal visions and locutions. 

The book is a compilation of stories of people who have had an "illumination of conscience" followed by a radical conversion - although one person was a nun who was simply lazy and indulgent.  The illumination is a vision of their sins and the punishment they should receive for them. The part that arouses skepticism is the prediction that everyone in the world will experience this illumination at the same time in the near future. Time will stop and people will have their personal vision. Airplanes will be paused in the sky.  Some people will die of fright, others will be converted, and others will find an excuse for it, such as calling it a technological glitch.  One seer said it would happen in her lifetime, but now she is nearly 70. These seers include the visionaries from Garabandal, Spain, and Matthew Kelly, but the others I have never heard of, although they apparently sometimes become circuit preachers. 

I am a natural skeptic, but I don't doubt that these people had some sort of vision of their own need for conversion. Our book club was pretty split between readers who see these seers as prophets, and those who see that we all have to prepare for our end, as Jesus tells us, but that anything that predicts a day or time is questionable. 

It is easy to see why apocalyptic forecasts are gaining traction: Fires, earthquakes, pandemics, hurricanes, flooding.  Over Labor Day weekend, ash from the fires in the hills to the east of San Diego fell on our picnic table, although we are an hour away. This was the fire started by the gender reveal party, if you have seen the memes. What a terrible sense of guilt that couple must carry, especially since at least one firefighter died.

The death of Justice Ginsburg on the eve of Rosh Hoshannah is another seemingly apocalyptic moment - I dread the hostilities that are sure to erupt - although I have to admit that I am secretly cheering for Amy Coney Barrett, mother of seven, Notre Dame professor.... Time to quit social media.  I wish we could start the election season over again, with two entirely different candidates.  Why are we stuck with two choices of whom most people aren't really fans, even if they do like the policies?  Is it too late to mount a write-in campaign for a candidate who actually is honest and committed to the well being of the American people and not just to his political success?

That's all I have to say about politics. 

In domestic news -- well, the puppy is doing great.  He is basically housetrained, he doesn't shed, he doesn't destroy much except tissues, and he is entertaining to watch. He's such a strange looking little guy and he has some really amusing habits and expressions.  I wouldn't feel guilty about saying he is an emotional support animal in order to get him on a plane because the kids have really found him a source of joy and affection. Even if he is weird looking.

The kids are healthy. They just had well-checks. The 16 year old is just shy of 6'5.'' I had to buy him more new shoes, even though we don't need to do back to school shopping, because he outgrew his old ones. His toe had rubbed a hole in the end of the shoes I bought around Easter. This kid is hard on shoes.  The bad news was that we also went to the dentist, and three of the kids had multiple cavities. Time to back off the corona candy and ice cream indulgences.  I suspect since we don't go many places that they aren't brushing their teeth in the mornings. 

The kids are also back to practicing sports, but not back to school. Doesn't this seem odd to you? Why can they gather on the football field and throw balls to each other or swim in the pool or run around the neighborhood with no masks on, but we are afraid for them to sit spaced out in a classroom (we could have outdoor classrooms here!) in masks? The school district recently sent a "survey" that questioned whether parents would commit to sending kids back in a hybrid situation. The parent community lit up the Facebook pages about it because not everyone received the email with the survey, and those who did receive it were frustrated because it was hidden in a long newsletter, and it wasn't clear at all that it was actually a commitment to 100% online learning if you didn't fill it out.  I was among those who didn't receive it. A friend texted about it, but she was asking me if I knew what the deal was. I had to call the high school about something else, so I asked about it, but nobody in the front office knew about it. By the end of the day, after the local Facebook page nearly exploded with comments from angry and confused parents, the district had sent a new email with clear instructions. Personally, the online situation has been going pretty smoothly around here, and I like the easy schedule, but if they could go back for woodworking and chem lab and ceramics class, I'm ready to send them in a heartbeat with no fears of viral infection.

My college kids have thus far remained free of illness, even though football season is now in full swing. Again - why can my kids in the Midwest go to football games, but my daughter enrolled in a college in California cannot go to class?  These are the questions that people who contemplate mass exodus ask. I don't want to be one of those people, but here I am. The other irritating thing to me is that although she is attending a private school, the state is apparently preventing them from opening, but the state university here has allowed students to move to campus and for lab students to take in person classes. An outbreak of cases around the university now has led the state to consider placing our county at the "purple" level again - which means no inside business.  The county is petitioning the state to exclude those numbers from the count for the county so that it can stay in the "red" level of business operations, and even move to the "yellow" level. That decision should come out today.

I fear that is politics again. In other news, I really enjoyed reading Distant Neighbors, the collection of letters between Gary Snyder and Wendell Berry. They are delightfully thoughtful, articulate, motivated to make a change in the way they use land and encourage others to use it. Snyder's Buddhist leanings and Berry's Christian perspective aren't taboo topics, but neither are they reasons to weaken the friendship, which develops primarily through writing letters and sharing essays and poetry, between occasional visits.  Stepping into the intimacy of their writings feels a bit voyeuristic, but I loved reading this exchange, and envied them their friendship. 

I am supposed to be writing a longish paper for a conference on friendship for the Christianity and Literature virtual conference in October. My focus is on these friendships of nature writers Snyder and Berry, David James Duncan and Brian Doyle, and initially I thought I would include a nod to the two Johns - Muir and Burroughs.  My focus is more expository than analytical; I just want to bask in the beauty of the their writings and not analyze them.  But I should be working on that rather than musing on the state of the world.  

Here are some photos to finish with: 

The funny fellow

A trip to the tide pools to touch anemones, chitons, limpets, barnacles, and a few dead crabs. I learned from the friendly park volunteer that lobsters molt. 

End of summer shaved ice.


Mountain lake. I could stay in a little cottage here a long time. Maybe forever.

Fall blooming mini lupine



Monday, July 27, 2020

Covid adventures and a poem

We just received the news that one of our college sons is Covid positive. This is based on a test he took at home and mailed in before going to school.  They misplaced his test and had to reprocess it, so he didn't receive the results until he was sitting in the Dallas Fort Worth airport yesterday morning during his layover from San Diego to South Bend.  The doctor told him to stay in Dallas until this morning because then it would be 10 days since test date.  So he got a hotel room at the airport - DFW is convenient for this - and spent the night and now is on the way to South Bend. 


Not a symptom has he displayed. Nor has anyone else in the household.  But back on the Fourth of July, his worked his second job at the pizza place, came home and had dinner with us and a four of our friends, and then woke up the next morning to a call that his boss was positive with the virus.  His boss has now been in the hospital almost two weeks.   This first announcement scared us all. We notified our friends, shut the doors, and stayed at home for 14 days except for a few runs to the store.  In the meantime, our son was tested twice, and both tests came back negative.  I was tested and was negative, and our other son who works at a restaurant also tested negative.  So four negative tests in the family - which makes me skeptical of this positive test.  

Now we are in waiting mode, locked down again in quarantine.  We've had to notify a few people that we've seen in the last week.  I would like to count our 14 days from the day our son took his test, but the doctor said we should count our 14 days from the last contact.  He also said that the less conservative measure is 10 days without symptoms. And another option is to test at 4 days after the last contact and 7 days after the last contact. If those tests are both negative, then the quarantine is lifted. That option isn't really practical since we are so many people in one household.  

Blah. Is there a vaccine yet? I'll volunteer to be in the trials...

I came across this haiku from a link somewhere - it makes me miss the summer evenings of sitting on the back porch laughing and drinking wine and figuring out how to solve all the problems in the world. 


a party  

BY JOHN BRANDI
a party
where everyone says goodbye
then stays
John Brandi, "a party" from Seeding the Cosmos. Copyright © 2010 by John Brandi. Reprinted by permission of John Brandi.

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Poetry and politics

I've been meaning to incorporate more poetry into our days during the month of April, but that hasn't really happened.  Now that the month is drawing to a close, here are a few nods to the art.

A new poet to me is Kayo Chingonyi, whose work I just was introduced to by a fellow teacher. Here is one of his pieces. The title comes from a Zambian word for initiation.


Since I haven't danced among my fellow initiates,
following a looped procession from woods at the edge
of a village, Tata’s people would think me unfinished 
– a child who never sloughed off the childish estate
to cross the river boys of our tribe must cross
in order to die and come back grown.
I was raised in a strange land, by small increments:
When I bathed my mother the days she was too weak,
when auntie broke the news and I chose a yellow suit
and white shoes to dress my mother’s body,
at the grave-side when the man I almost grew to call
dad, though we both needed a hug, shook my hand.
what would he make of these literary pretensions,
this need to speak with a tongue that isn’t mine?
If my alternate self, who never left, could see me
what would he make of these literary pretensions,
this need to speak with a tongue that isn’t mine?
Would he be strange to me as I to him, frowning 
as he greets me in the language of my father
and my father’s father and my father’s father’s father?

I mentioned the Beth Ann Fennelly article about the role of literature in increasing empathy.  Chingonyi's poetry is a good example of how poetry also shares in that ability to shift perspectives and provide insight into another's life. The teacher who shared the info about Chingonyi interviewed him as part of a series of interviews with Dylan Thomas Prize winners. Here is a 10 minute clip of Kayo Chingonyi talking about his writing life. https://soundcloud.com/user-588915112/kayo-chingonyi-2018-winner.  More about his work: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/may/28/kayo-chingonyi-poet-dylan-thomas-prize

Another good clip I have been meaning to share isn't about poetry per se - and maybe I shared this before? - but this video called "Nihonga: Slow Art" touches on the way faith forms art.  This video features the work of abstract artist Makoto Fujimura who was scheduled to speak at University of Dallas for their McDermott Lecture series, but the lecture was cancelled.
  https://www.makotofujimura.com/

Meanwhile art-making happens around here in small ways - pictures for elderly neighbors. Potholders. Painting old wooden ornaments. Painting rocks. Sidewalk chalk designs. Baking. Lots of hair braiding and nail art. I have a large stash of craft supplies leftover from co-op and VBS and CRE.  Might as well use them up.  My intentions to incorporate more art and music into our days are largely still intentions and not actions, a small failure to move from concept to product, but I need to remind myself to focus more on the small successes.

There were a number of small successes and failures yesterday.  A failure was spending too much time responding in my head to a Facebook post that touched a nerve. A success was restraining myself from actually responding. A success was spending a pleasant hour in the afternoon sunshine on opposite sides of the sidewalk from a friend as we let our little girls play charades - a good non-touching game. A failure was letting slip that we had made a little field trip back in late March to the mountains and another trip to the military beach about an hour north last weekend.  I'm afraid she was a little shocked. I have tried not to talk very much about our little illicit excursions because, even though our interactions with others were very limited - and masked and gloved - they really aren't in the spirit of "Stay home" orders.

I'm afraid I'm not a great team player.  It doesn't help that I don't firsthand know anyone who actually has the virus, although a neighbor thinks she had it. A friend of a friend's sister had a bad case and was really sick and in the hospital a few days.  Our acquaintances on the Theodore Roosevelt were among the 4/5ths of sailors who tested negative.  I am not sorry to have the kids doing school at home, and I don't mind the restrictions on shopping and dining out, but I am inordinately gladdened by the report that the beaches and some parks have opened for exercise.  On the other hand, I am sorry to hear about thousands of gallons of milk being poured into the ground, chickens and pigs being slaughtered, and fields of vegetables being plowed under because farmers don't have a market for their food with all the restaurants closed, and they can't afford to nurture, harvest, or process, package, and transport it to the groceries. Meanwhile people are going hungry because they are out of a job and the stores are out of food.  How many kids aren't getting their online schoolwork done because they don't have motivation, they don't have access, or they don't have someone to explain concepts clearly? I tend to sympathize with the governors who think there must be a safe way to start reopening the economy now that more masks are available, and people are accustomed to wearing them, and the six feet rule is mostly followed.  We shall see.

Enough of my partially formed political thoughts for now.  I have been meaning to turn more to reading and research.  A success yesterday was I did look up some conferences and literary societies and graduate programs that focus on environmental humanities.  A failure is that I have not drummed up enough motivation or time to write up ideas for abstracts. On the other hand, I am loving Saints and Villains,  the novel about Dietrich Bonhoeffer I'm reading for my book club.  And success: I finally finished Pico Iyer's The Lady and the Monk about his year in Kyoto and his developing relationship with the young Japanese woman who eventually becomes his wife. I checked it out from the library a week or so before everything shut down. The book is a travel narrative. It rambles slowly through the streets and through different encounters. Sachiko, the young lady, is unhappily married and unhappily restrained by the expectations demanded of her by the culture.  She gradually spends more and more time with Pico, ostensibly to practice English and to show him Kyoto and the surrounding areas, but also because he represents the freedom she desires.  I really like Iyer's writing, but it does not move quickly. It is perhaps akin to the "slow art" that Fujimura describes.

Back to poetry. I learned via social media that Irish poet Eavan Boland died.  The poem of hers most familiar to me is "Becoming Anne Bradstreet," but her passing led me down the rabbit trail of reading more of her poems.  Here is "Becoming Anne Bradstreet," a fitting poem for Poetry Month about the influence of poets and their words and the power of imagination.
Becoming Anne Bradstreet    EAVAN BOLAND
It happens again
As soon as I take down her book and open it.

I turn the page.
My skies rise higher and hang younger stars.

The ship's rail freezes.
Mare Hibernicum leads to Anne Bradstreet's coast.
 A blackbird leaves her pine trees
And lands in my spruce trees.
 I open my door on a Dublin street.
Her child/her words are staring up at me:
 In better dress to trim thee was my mind,But nought save home-spun cloth, i' th' house I find. We say home truthsBecause her words can be at home anywhere—

At the source, at the end and whenever
The book lies open and I am again

An Irish poet watching an English woman
Become an American poet.

Friday, April 17, 2020

Celebrating Easter and other happy events

We're a month in to quarantine now, and our days have something like a pattern or routine, although this past week was set apart by many celebrations.  First we celebrated a six year old birthday, then Dad came home after a six week exercise, then we entered Holy Week and celebrated the Feast of the Resurrection (Happy Easter, everyone!), and then we ate more sweets to honor my husband's birthday. Tuesday was back to school day, but yesterday a friend celebrated a birthday, and we walked almost 10 miles around the neighborhood - with masks and opposite edges of the side walk. We tried to maintain the six feet apart, and since we passed several patrolling police cars, and none said anything to us, we must have been okay.  I have heard a police man ask people to keep moving along the beach before it was closed, but I haven't seen them stop anyone. My friend in Spain said her daughter was stopped while out walking their dog. They can only go a certain number of meters from home - I think about 50 or 80 - but she was within that distance.  They've had their quarantine extended another 30 days, even though news seems to suggest that they have reached the peak number of cases.

At one point I thought this quarantine was meant to give hospitals time to gather supplies and prepare for an onslaught of cases. Now it seems to be destined to last until a treatment or a vaccination is found. My husband wanted to talk about plans to fly our college students, who are with their grandparents in Indiana, back for the summer, but I hesitate to assume that by summer things will be back to normal. Our high school senior is losing hope that their mid-June graduation date will happen, although I've seen some creative solutions like ceremonies held at drive-in theaters. I waiver back and forth between frustration that a solution for reopening the economy has not been found yet and anxiety that the disease is much worse than initial reporting indicated.  It depends on what I read. I have stopped checking the daily numbers of statistics from the WHO.  I'm not sure how accurate they are anyway, if many people are still not getting tested. I read one article yesterday in the WSJ about how the virus may attack the nervous system and cause brain damage, a result just being identified as people recover. That was enough to make me satisfied to stay home again.

In the meantime, the past week has been a relatively good one.  Since we hadn't planned a birthday party for the five year old turning six, she was disappointed with her party at home with siblings. Her sister made her a beautiful castle birthday cake, and we delivered cupcakes to a few of her neighborhood friends. She got calls from family and some friends, so she felt like the star of the day. And her pile of random presents, including a stuffed animal from the grocery store, since some online orders failed to show up, made her happy.

The best birthday gift was that her dad came home late the next night. His flight was delayed over 14 hours, but eventually he made it back.  He's now on home quarantine, like the rest of us, although in another week he'll go back to work as essential personnel.  Since his group was in the desert, and they were on a chartered flight with no other passengers, he feels pretty sure he hasn't been exposed to any viruses. And no one is coughing or feverish around here...

Our Easter celebration was similarly happy - we watched the vigil on East Coast time at the University of Notre Dame basilica, which was still a couple hours long without sacraments, and then had a feast afterwards with good champagne and steaks, since several us gave up meat for Lent.  On Easter morning, we put another Mass on, but didn't make the kids sit to watch it. We had our Easter basket and egg hunt, made a big brunch, and then took some cookies to some neighbors in the afternoon, so we had a little social time from a distance.  We had plenty of candy and sweet treats, and although my online shopping was sporadic, everyone had a book and something to wear in their baskets. It was not a sunny day, but it was nice enough for a walk to admire everyone's gardens and to look for the white crosses that a lot of people have in their yards.

All of the rain has made it easier to stay at home. It also has made my garden healthy.  I finally have little seedlings in my garden boxes, but they look like mostly beets. My lettuce seeds apparently weren't viable. I may venture out next week to look for salad green starts at the hardware store, but we'll see. We also have lost a computer - the desktop gave up the ghost. I'm trying to decide whether to get a new one, or another laptop, or whether to try to find a repair person to try to fix it.  It's about 7 years old, which is about as long as computers last these days.  I think all the photos and documents have backed up to Google, so I am not mourning lost photos - but it is a good reminder that one of my quarantine goals is to print photos.

Time to pass the laptop to a distance learning student. Next time I'll write up some of the books I've been reading - although I seem to have a lot of books started but not finished.

An attempt to take an artsy photo from inside the 6 yr old's new kaleidoscope of my bookshelf.

My orchid rebloomed! A happy thing!
A reader!



A gift from my son - another source of smiles

And here is a dog in a carriage defying the no parking order at the beach.

Oldest daughter made carrot cake for Dad.

A roller blading six year old

The croissants made by my son in Indiana - lots of butter required.

Easter afternoon feast - the traditional ham, asparagus, scalloped potatoes and Watergate salad, also with homemade bread cross on the good dishes.


An old favorite

We added more eggs along the walk

Not everyone was excited about an Easter walk

Our vigil altar

A friend made us some stylish masks

The castle cake

Now we are six!

While dropping off cupcakes, a friend left a birthday message.

An attempt to take artsy photos through Facetime of spring at my parents - I miss these flowers!











Boxes from a friend who moved - another fun quarantine activity - fort building in the garage.

Palms for Palm Sunday




Reading is one form of escape. Running for your life is another.
-Lemony Snicket