Social Distancing, Day (Photo Included)

How many ever days that is. That's how long the social distancing has been so far. I believe this is the 7th week, officially? I think this is James's 9th week working from home.

Being at home this long has brought up some interesting things for Mal, by way of toys he hasn't played with for months, years, and even ever. He asked me to get out his Super Wings last night, and I had to admit we didn't have them anymore (Goodwill donation). He was so upset, I did end up ordering a new set, smaller than he had before. He cried when I told him I'd gotten rid of the GIANT Jet we'd bought when Toys R Us was closing... and I didn't replace that.

Last night, he asked to play with his Florida 500 Cars track. I gave it away MONTHS ago. He had only played with it one time in a year, and it took me longer to put it together, take it apart, and put it back away than he spent with it that time.

Then today, he wanted to pretend to be the tired dragon from the Ruined Kingdom in Super Mario Odyssey, and asked me to help him find his "dragon mask." This was a mask we'd gotten with a Burger King meal back before he ever even played with toys (the movie was released in 2014, so the toy was OLD) and he'd literally never used it once.So when I did a clean-out of Happy-Meal-style toys a few months ago, that went. Sigh.

Another thing is clothes. We went to my parents' for a bit Saturday (I was checking on elderly folks, so that's totally covered in the stay-home orders that expire at the end of this week), and he took off his shorts the second we walked in. He said they were making him "sick" on the drive up. Then a couple of hours later, he complained that his shirt was too hot and lost that, too. After six full weeks at home, that kid cannot wear clothes.

We've been doing a kind of theme dinner every Friday during what feels kind of like lockdown. I had found a 12-pack of Baja Blue Mountain Dew Zero at Dollar General a week into "quarantine" and am drinking one can of the soda each Friday with my meal. I've been hoping the restrictions would be lifted before I run out. I think we're 5 down now. Let's count.

The first week, we dressed up fancy and had a nice meal. Well, James and I dressed up fancy. Mal just dressed up.

D did not participate in the dressing up (I was hoping for a cosplay, but alas...) but did enjoy the steak dinner from Longhorn Steakhouse.

The following week, in order to draw Mal into the festivities a little more, we had Minecraft night. We used items only found in-game, including pork chops, potatoes, mushroom soup, apples, and cookies.

Mal kept walking around saying, "I feel like I'm IN Minecraft!" He also dressed for the occasion, and I did my best impression of an ocelot (from the game).

Continuing in the "Mal's gonna love this" game, we had Mario's Italian Extravaganza the following Friday.

The next week, we visited the Krusty Krab, where James and I had Krabby Patties and Mal had a Krusty Krab pizza.

Then last week, I just came up with "fake foods." Our actual dinner was meatloaf and potatoes, but it looked like cupcakes. And dessert was basically a cupcake, but looked like spaghetti and meatballs.

James asked me what the cucumbers were supposed to be and, I don't know. Make something up. I was tired and we needed a green vegetable. But lest you think I'm not serious about this stuff, here's how I made the "sprinkles" on the meatloaf cupcakes:

Yes, I used a mandolin on the carrot, then I went back with a hole-punch to make them a consistent size.

Mal has been watching a lot of YouTube and playing a lot of video games, but has also been pretending a whole bunch. Here are some pictures of that, and sorry that he doesn't wear clothes anymore.

Purified Water

Our older kid is very sensitive to things like tastes and smells.

I felt like they were being a little ridiculous when they insisted that our tap water is totally undrinkable, and that we had to buy bottles of Ozarka instead.

I understand "a little ridiculous," and don't hold that against D. I understand that D has needs that I will never be able to comprehend.

I remember going to Grandma's when I was a kid and not being able to drink the water because "the lake is turning." I still don't understand what that means, but I know that our city goes through carefully controlled cycles between "so much filth that it's going to kill the fish in our lake" and "so much bleach that it's going to kill all the fish in our lake."

I think I'm basically a very simple, low-maintenance kind of person. I think most of the rest of the world can agree with me that range between those two extremes doesn't really taste all that different. A rare few (like D, Mal, and at least one of our nephews) aren't, and that's fine. Others (like Laura) just don't appreciate the delicious taste of water.

Our problem is that we haven't been able to find Ozarka water in ages.

So Laura took advantage of our luxury life and rented a cooler plus 5 gallon buckets. Our current plan is to go through 3 of those every 2 months.

The cooler is loud. And both surprising and annoying. But it does produce delightfully cold water on demand.

And I was shocked at how crisp and clear it tastes when compared with what we get out of the filtered tap from our fridge.

Earlier today, Laura pointed out that D hasn't had any, yet. I've probably gone through a gallon, and I'd been trying to swap evenly between the Ozarka and our tap water.

The Ozarka does taste a lot better, but we aren't getting it for me and my low-brow "needs."

This brings to my actual point about potable water.

Submarines (and probably most other naval vessels) have to use excess heat from their engines to purify sea water so the crews have something the crews can drink.

I vaguely recall something about a 70% purity rate being good enough for human consumption.

And I also vaguely remember that our rate was a little higher than standard. One of the guys warned warned me before we got underway that I'd have bright green baby shit because of this.

He also warned that our digestive systems start doing really weird things when we switch to really pure distilled water, which was another option that our sub never resorted to.

I don't know what Ozarka does to make it taste so much like a delicious mountain stream.

It's great. If you enjoy water at all, you should try it. If you don't, you should give it another chance.

It is not pure water.

Anger Management

I've never thought of myself as a particularly angry person. I can certainly be irritable and, one might say, "pissy." A lot of those times overlap with hormonal cycles, but don't you dare suggest that because that is solely my observation to make.

There are a number of times, though, when I look back in on my life, that I have become temporarily almost blinded with a rush of anger I felt powerless to fight, and my reactions seemed to be involuntary and unstoppable. I believe I remember each and every one of them in stark detail, and they do not represent my finest moments. However, when I look back on them, I can see that they were often just an outlet for a build-up of grief or stress or, in at least one case, physical pain.

I also see that I really could have benefited from mental health intervention, or talk therapy, pretty early in life. It might have made me realize that talking to people about the shame I felt concerning my weight, or the irrational fears I had, would have been a good deal.

Instead, I mostly always just let things pile up on the inside, often failing even to pinpoint exactly what I was feeling from one moment to the next, because doing so would make me feel weak or ashamed.

Anyway, NOW I'm ashamed at the outbursts that ended up happening, and yesterday, for the first time ever, I just let that feeling of "fight or flight" buzz in my chest all night, knowing that when I woke up this morning, my body would have "reset" and I would be fine. And I am.

But because I want people to know that I understand it's likely I should be clinically diagnosed -- and I'm NOT being flippant here; I do believe I have undiagnosed mental and/or mood disorder(s) that, had I been aware of in my early adulthood, probably would have made life easier for myself and those living around me -- I'm going to list every incident where I've given in to this hostile take-over of fury, and, if I know the cause, I'll pinpoint that, too. I don't understand all of them.

1) The earliest one I can remember is when I was a junior in high school (so 1988 or 1989). I was "dating" (he couldn't drive and we couldn't go anywhere alone because of that) a kid who had a best friend who was a girl. I straight-up hated how connected they were. Anyway, I'd seen her making out with her boyfriend once, and she'd asked me not to tell the guy I was seeing because she thought it reflected poorly on her, like she was some kind of slut. The whole situation is so very Disney middle school drama. Anyway, there was an ill-advised (for me, because I require nightly sleep) lock-in at our church, and I was bummed because he was spending so much time at the bowling alley with her, talking to her, blah blah. Phil Collins's "Groovy Kind of Love" came on the PA and I hid in the bathroom crying. The girl came in there to check on me and was talking about how great this guy was, ending with, "Aren't we lucky to have him?" Ugh. Cut to Monday at school... she didn't go to our school, and I was just tired and grumpy from the weekend. The guy approached me first thing, wanting me to like apologize to her or something for being distant. He said, "She's trying to be your friend, really she is." That's when my lizard brain took over. I think I yelled something like, "No, she's no!" and walked away, slamming my fist into the cinder-block wall on the outside of the library. Dumb. Juvenile. I think this was just anger at the insecurities that proximity to someone I viewed as "better" than me stirred, and her extremely close relationship with a guy I liked. She ended up being the "best man" in his wedding.

2) The next one was on the eve of my first wedding, so this would have been early August 1992. After the rehearsal, a bunch of us went to my friend's boyfriend's apartment to play "How to Be a Complete Bastard," a ridiculous game we'd acquired at Crazy Eddie's, the one place in Fort Smith where you could buy sex toys and crude merchandise such as this. It was a fun game, until one of the truth/dare things involved my affianced letting a girlfriend of mine shave one square inch of hair off of his fairly hairy leg. Of course, you can't shave one inch; no razor is that small. It was a fair patch. I'm not 100% sure why this made me so angry, I had a melt-down. I think I told him it looked stupid and we were about to go on our honeymoon so it would show on the pictures, but that's ridiculous. I think it was maybe just the stress of getting married, even though it's what I really wanted at the time. Also, I was probably a little jealous of the boldness of someone shaving another person's body to win a game, because I was competitive but I don't think I could shave someone else. Good thing I'm not a nurse.

3) Around 1995, I was working at Sam's Club and I don't even remember what lead up to this, but I do remember walking into the freezer, throwing my gloves into the air, and swearing for the first time in my life. That was just a bad situation. Poorly-run store, my marriage was falling apart, my co-worker was disgusting and inappropriate and attempts to report his sexually inappropriate discussions to management resulted in my younger-than-me area manager telling him, in front of me, that he needed to knock it off because I was getting him (the manager) in trouble. And the store manager told me and another co-worker that our complaints were creating a division that was just as bad as the guy who was sitting in the cooler, letting the milk run out of the higher shelves so that women would have to lean down to reach the bottom shelf and he could look down their blouses.

4) In the late summer of 1998, I met my then-husband's parents for the first time. They'd come to Las Vegas, and we'd taken them to visit The Strip. My husband was parking in a garage I frequented, and I was trying to direct him to the spots that would require his elderly parents the least walking, since we already had a fair hike in front of us. He was snippy and basically told me to shut up. We'd only been married for about five months, but there were aspects of his personality that I had not seen before we got married that had been increasingly problematic. (We got into a fight on our "honeymoon" in Montreal and I don't remember what it was about, but do remember his saying, "You've always been insecure about your weight." It was a complete non-sequitur but weight would become his go-to... then my extra-marital sex-craziness. But that's another story for another time.)

Anyway, THIS time, I demanded he stop and let me out of the car. Yeah, his parents were in the car. I exited with a, "Don't you EVER yell at me again!" and walked into the casino, through it, and out onto the street. His mom caught up with me about half an hour later, and I did not have a plan. I just needed space and to get the energy out of my body. I could have walked home. We lived pretty close.

5) June 2002. We were on a "respite break" from Boys Town. It was super stressful, and we took an emergency last-minute long weekend off to relax. It might have been mandatory. Anyway, we'd decided to go camping at this neat place just over the border of Nevada into Utah, and it was a cool place. They had hot springs that came out from the side of a cliff, and had put a bunch of claw-foot bathtubs on a landing to collect the water. It would then overflow out of them and into a pool below. The water was rust-colored, like the rocks. D was about seven months old. Kaley the greyhound was with us.

Can you tell where we were was significantly cooler than Las Vegas in June? Yeah. It was. So, when we went to bed that night, it just kept getting cooler and then cold. No one slept much. By about 3 AM, we went to the car to sleep with the heater on.

At first daylight, when it was time to pack up and go, I don't know why the responsibility for taking the tend down fell to me. But it did. Maybe because it was my sister's tent, and I'm the one who had set it up? Anyway... in the cold half-light, every time the chilly metal poles knocked against my frozen fingers, I could feel it building up: Why am I doing this alone? (Because a baby's in the car, maybe?) Why did we waste one precious free night we had doing this instead of just hanging out somewhere easy? Plus all of the stress of knowing we'd have to go back into that house of six boys who did not like us and were products of their environments so far but for which we were constantly held responsible, as their current foster parents. It seemed like I'd bitten of a lot more than I could chew, especially as they'd hired us when I was pregnant and we started when D was 2 months old and I was still fully in the throes of postpartum depression. Anyway, I just screamed. No one was camping but us, and I yellllllled. I hollered, "I THOUGHT CAMPING WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN!" Then I got the tent folded up and realized that the lantern was still hanging on the interior. That would have to wait until later. I'd lost it.

6) Early 2003. We'd been asked to resign from Boys Town, had spent 3 months holing up in a friend's house in Spokane, WA, then lived with my parents for 2 months while we got rid of our renter so we could move back into our house. THEN D and I went to visit my grandparents in Texas. THEN our whole family went to visit D's grandparents in Montgomery, Alabama. Whew. So we were finally home and settled in, and I decided to take D to one of my favorite places, Floyd Lamb Park.

This was quite idyllic, but at some point... my keys were gone. I looked everywhere for them before walking to the ranger's shack to ask to use the phone. I called home, and no one answered. I left a voice mail that said something like, "I have a bit of an emergency so I'm going to call back in a couple of minutes, if you could pick up the phone."

In my brain, I'd already started it... picturing my husband asleep, or even purposefully ignoring my call. I walked around for a while, came back, and called again. Nothing. I told him I was going to have to call a tow truck. Later he asked me why I didn't call a cab. Honestly, I hadn't thought of it. But also, dog.

Anyway, I called a tow truck and left to kill time while we waited. I had cracked the windows so was able to at least get into the car so Kaley could rest and D could play.

Kids never notice anything.

In another twist, when I'd told the tow truck driver that I was at Floyd Lamb in Tule Springs, for some reason, his brain went straight to "Indian Springs." He drove all the way out there before realizing that's not where Floyd Lamb is, and, duh, of course I said Tule Springs. Here's a map. The tiny blue circle is where I lived. The red outline is Tule Springs. The big blue circle is Indian Springs.

The round trip took him 3 hours, while I waited with a dog and a kid and no idea what was going on. (Nope, no cell phone.) Also, I see now that it's only 2.7 miles from the park to my house, but it felt a lot further, and my dog could barely walk a block without withering. Anyway.

When we finally got home and the tow truck driver hopped up to get into the car, the dog was so freaked out she jumped straight out from about 8 feet and landed with a screech and a roll on the asphalt before limping inside. It looked to me like she'd landed on her head, and I don't remember how the next few moments happened, but I had to have paid the tow truck driver and put D to bed.

I do remember collapsing in the living room, sobbing and screaming, "WHERE WERE YOU??!" over and over and over again. I don't really have to think too hard about where this came from. However, I was also so wrapped up in my own stuff that I hadn't realized that the messages I'd left were cryptic and didn't mention whether we'd been in a wreck, if anyone was hurt, where we were, etc.

7) Now there's a break in the break-downs, as far as I recall. It August 2011, and I had gone through a divorce and was trying to see if dating this one guy was an option. We'd gotten pretty connected, and something specific abruptly changed. It's actually taken until probably the past 3 or 4 months for me to completely shed the emotion around this one, as I realize the catalyst was a group of people comprised of men I've found over time to be laughable and regret caring what they thought and giving them power over me and as I realize that if that guy and I had gotten together, we would have been each other's worse nightmare.

But anyway, I was SO freaking mad and upset that an outside person was giving input into something that was a source of joy for the two of us involved that I could not stop crying. I yelled at the guy who gave me the news. I cried and called one of the outside people involved and yell-cried at him. I cried all afternoon, including driving to and sitting through a show my cousin's wife was putting on. I was staying with my parents that night because the show was near Dallas and we were celebrating my birthday the following afternoon.

I was talking to a friend online and she told me to wake my parents up and tell them to take me to the hospital, and to tell them I was suicidal if I needed to (I wasn't). So my mom did, and I talked to a lady, and it really was a waste of time and money but she referred me to a doctor for anti-depressants. I really should have pursued therapy at this point, too, but... I'd tried it as recommended when I was going through the divorce, and it was just laughable. It was one of those things where the counselor repeated back what I said, so when I stopped talking, so did she. And we'd just sit there for an uncomfortably long amount of time. What I needed were coping mechanisms or help seeing patterns or something. I got nothing.

But here, it makes total sense. I'd gone through a pretty acrimonious divorce, I'd lost a faith outlet that had been my home for six years, and now this was getting taken from me.

8) Almost a year later, there was another deal with this same guy, who just couldn't make a clean break with me. He had said basically that we just couldn't date, though, and he hoped I valued his friendship enough to remain friends without other expectations. That did it. D had a friend over at the RV, and I politely excused myself, then sobbed and yelled at him while I walked around the trailer park after dark. I'm lucky no one called the police, honestly.

I still had a couple of mini-FU moments with this guy before totally shutting down communication. It wasn't a healthy situation. He says he only remembers the good stuff. Nice for him.

9) In December 2012, I thought it would be fun to surprise James, who was visiting me from Dallas in Austin, with his family for his birthday. His mom, brother, sister-in-law, and sister drove out from Arizona and stayed in a nearby hotel. What I didn't realize was also happening was that the injury I'd sustained the day I moved into my RV park in Austin (slipped on standing water in the laundry room and apparently ruptured a spinal disc) had started bothering me for the first time. It would hang out for the better part of a year. But I do remember getting everyone in the car and wincing as I sat down. It was a lot of pain.

One late morning, we had gone to get James's people to go visit my sister and some wanted to go to breakfast first. Well, it was taking a lot of sitting around and chatting to decide, and I'd told my sister we'd come over, and I was so overwhelmed that I had to leave the building and go outside. I have no idea what caused it, unless it was meeting (and getting reacquainted with) my boyfriend's family for the first time?

10) On the eve of the eve of James's and my wedding, I had three of these "disconnecting" incidents. The first was, well, also when his brother and sister-in-law were in town. They get the benefit of seeing me at my finest. Anyway, it had been more than three months of constant agony with my back. I was only sleeping a few hours at a time because after that, I had to get up. I couldn't sit or lay down comfortably for any amount of time and would lie down to try to sleep until I just couldn't. I made so many hurt animal noises that one time when D asked if I was okay, I had to say, "Don't ask anymore. The answer is no. I'm never going to be okay."

We'd sat down to play a game, and it was a complicated one (Battlestar Galactica, if you're familiar). James had just read through the instructions, and everyone else had taken their first turns. It got to me, and I realized I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I didn't really understand the point of the game, but I had like 2 moves and a thing and another thing I was supposed to do on my turn, and I couldn't grasp at all what it was. I admitted I was totally lost, and I started bawling. They calmed me down, and I started playing.

A little later, I was zoning out during something and suddenly James said, "You aren't supposed to look at the cards!" he was shuffling, and of which I was totally unaware. Embarrassed at being accused of cheating? (yeah, drama) I left the room, literally threw myself on the bed, and sobbed.

Then I decided it would be a good time to go to bed, so I went to lie down with D. They were still playing the game just outside the door, I'm a light sleeper, and I was hurting so bad. I tried to stop the buzz of "fight or flight." I just wanted to sleep. My body wouldn't unwind, but was winding up instead.

Finally, I shot out of bed and stomped through the living room. "I have to go on a walk." It was about 2:00 AM. James asked, "Do you want me to go with you?" Instead of saying yes, I snarled, "What do YOU think??"

He followed me out, we got a few blocks away, and I sat on the sidewalk and sobbed. I told him that he didn't have to marry me, because I knew that I was a different person with my back injury. I was just so tired and so foggy and I couldn't keep it up.

This one makes TOTAL sense but is still super embarrassing to remember.

Also, not to spoil the story, but James married me anyway.

10) Christmas 2015. We'd gone to Arizona to -- you guessed it! -- be with James's family. We were having a great time in Flagstaff, where his brother lives. We'd gone out to a cute owl-themed restaurant. This was back in the day when Mal was just NOT able to sit through a meal. It was a leisurely one, and so toward the end, I just got up with him to let him roam while everyone else finished.

This is how James and I handled meals out when Mal was little. I don't think we'd explained that to his sister-in-law. She'd just had a baby a few days earlier, and was relieved to get out and do something. After I got up with Mal, I think a couple of other people came and meandered with him and apparently she felt rushed.

After that, James's brother wanted to show James a brewery that they love, and to give his wife an opportunity to sit and relax while she had a nice drink.

I knew that there was no way that Mal would make it through another sitting anywhere, so I stayed outside and walked around with him. At some point, James came out and asked where I was going. I hadn't planned on going anywhere, but decided I'd walk Mal downtown and we'd enjoy the shops while they had a drink.

This was taken poorly by James, who thought we were just abandoning everyone. I was just trying to make it so that Mal would be happy and James could do what he wanted to do with his family.

Anyway, we met later, and the idea was to do a pub crawl or something, so they were headed to another place to get another drink. My brain exploded a little, and I told James we'd just see him at home. They offered me a ride back to my car, but it was only a few blocks away and even though the sun was going down and it was getting cold, I was BURNING UP.

Mal and I finally got back to the car, and drove to the hotel. As I was going up the stairs to the room, I saw James heading toward the building. I guess I thought he'd changed his mind. But when he got up to the room, he'd come to grab a heavier coat or something.

I unleashed on him. "Why am I here? I'm just the babysitter! I feel like my only purpose here is to trot Mal out so your family can see him, then retreat when you're moving on to something else. I could have watched Mal while you went out and had fun at home and a lot cheaper!"

Merry Christmas, baby!

11) We're almost done. Whew. This one is... I don't get it at all. But it was in maybe 2016, some time in the spring? An incident had happened at Disney World with an alligator, and I won't mention it here but if you don't know what I'm talking about, you can Google it. A short time later, something dangerous but not fatal had happened at a zoo when a small child fell into the gorilla enclosure. Anyway, a high school friend had made a joke making light of both instances on Facebook, and I was absolutely infuriated. I think I blocked him that moment and thus ends a decades-long friendship. I like inappropriate jokes, but it was cruel and, to me, made light of a parent's loss.

12) Here's another social media one, from a few weeks ago. I'm only on Nextdoor (or I was; I'm not now) as a neighborhood lead. Someone had copied a post (they didn't edit after they pasted, so it was obvious) called "Craigslist Killers" which was a PETA expose about the horrific things people do after they acquire animals on Craigslist. It was graphic. It details a few specific incidents and the point was basically not to turn your pets over to strangers. I was repelled by it, and felt that the gruesome descriptions were unnecessary, but at least deserved a "content/trigger warning" so people like myself could avoid reading them. I reported the post, and it was removed.

A few days later, the same lady reposted and said she wasn't sure why her post had been removed. Another lead from a nearby neighborhood apologized and said there had been so much good info in the post. I responded that it had included graphic descriptions of animal violence, which I felt would disturb people, as it had me.

I didn't see the backlash until several hours. They'd both said things about how you HAVE to talk in these vivid terms or people don't listen, and after a few back-and-forths, eventually one lady surmised that the reason I was so sensitive was that I myself had likely surrendered a pet without doing due diligence, so I was feeling guilty. She added, "I have no proof of this, but it seems likely." WHAT. THE. WHAT?!

I told her she was ridiculous and to get off her high horse. I told Nextdoor to remove me as a lead. I messaged the second lead and told her that people who have had trauma can have their day/week RUINED by revisiting trauma described that gruesomely.

She wrote back a lot of stuff about being a law enforcement officer and blah blah blah whatever and that I needed to make sure my kids know all of the terrible things that can happen to THEM because that's how you love them. I didn't respond.

-----Okay, break for a minute.-----

I was listening to a podcast after this wherein they quoted G. M. Trevelyan, who said, "Anger is a momentary madness, so control your passion or it will control you."

"A momentary madness."

That made TOTAL sense to me. The madness, I mean. But it's true. It IS only momentary. And what would happen if I just decided, "I'm not reacting yet; whatever I do is a result of madness." So.

13) We were outside eating the other night, as we try to do every night during stay-home, when the weather is nice. James had run to the store while Mal and I played in the front yard. We noticed a small maybe Jack Russell terrier, and I took a picture with my camera, came inside, and posted it to Nextdoor.

One of my neighbors messaged me that she'd come get it, but by that time it had walked down the street a bit. She told me to grab it, but I didn't get that message until later, and by the time she got out, the dog was gone.

Apparently, the lady who had been one of the ones insisting that you have to detail animal abuse to stop it had said she'd come for it, but I hadn't seen the message because I muted her, which I'd told her and theater woman I was going to do so I wouldn't have to worry about reading such troubling things.

She messaged me and said, "That's what happens when you mute someone -- ME." I wrote her back that I'd forgotten about it (I had) and that I couldn't get the dog as I don't have a way to secure it: my house has cats, and my back yard isn't secure. It didn't have a collar, either, and I'm not picking up a strange dog.

She wrote back a LONG thing that I only skimmed, but it included "threw this baby out to the coyotes" and ended with "at least when I go to bed at night, I sleep well knowing that I tried to make the world a better place."

On the one hand, it was ridiculous enough to make me roll my eyes. On the other, I DON'T LIKE BEING ATTACKED. But I just deleted her messages and literally quit Nextdoor (they wouldn't let me step down as a lead until I found a replacement and NO ONE wants to do it).

I was full of that energy, that "do something!" buzzing alllll night. I knew, KNEW that when I woke up this morning, I'd be fine. But it was a long, slow burn. I kept thinking of responses like, "Well, a coyote has to eat." And pointing out that it's actually illegal in Jonestown to harbor a stray or lost pet. Also, having people over violates the stay-home orders. I guess I was crazy to think posting a picture and location of a dog might help someone instead of being a heartless act.

Sleep came. And this morning, I WAS fine.

But it got me to thinking: What if I'm a person who damages things around me without knowing it? D's therapy helped me to see some things that, even though I know them now, I'm not sure how to fix.   D's therapist recommended I get some clinical support, as well... and I might, but it feels like I'm not sure how/when that will fit into my life.

At least I can work on this until then.

"A momentary madness."

I can breathe through the moment. I can try to notice the heat creeping up my spine before it gets here. I can take better care of myself and the ones around me. That gives me something to work on while we're staying in.

Opportunities Lost

I went to the grocery store earlier today. They've cut way back on their hours, so I checked out and was leaving maybe 10 minutes before they closed for the day.

On my way out, I realized that that they had a kid at the entrance. He was wearing a bandana, and he stopped a guy who wanted to be their customer.

"I'm sorry sir, but you can't go inside without a mask," the kid warned when he spotted the guy across the parking lot.

"Are you kidding me? That's ridiculous!" the guy retorted.

The kid shrugged. "It's the law."

The guy bristled. "It isn't really the law!"

The kid didn't hesitate for a second. "It's the law in this county."

When I told Laura this story earlier, her reaction was "Good for that kid! Did you offer him one of our masks?"

I'd managed to block out the next part of the exchange, which was the guy asking where he was supposed to get a mask.

My first reaction matched Laura's: I should give him one of ours. I think we have 5 or 6 left, and my mom is sewing us some that we'll be able to throw in the wash (have I ever mentioned that my mom might be almost as much of a hero as my wife?)

My second reaction was that this guy was being a jerk, and I didn't want to help him.

So I didn't.

I've been kicking myself ever since.

I had the opportunity to show some basic compassion, and I failed.

If this guy had actually seemed needy, I'd have either given him one of our masks or just gone back in and bought what he needed.

But he started by trying to bully that kid, and I hate bullies.

That isn't an excuse.

I failed to be the compassionate, caring person I want to be.

We are living in a stressful world. We haven't seen a pandemic in over 100 years. We are looking at an economic collapse that seems very likely to get close to the Depression.

People like me who happen to be lucky enough to be able to work from home and have something to spare don't have any business making judgments on someone else's behavior.

I don't know what's going on in his life.

I went to the store for sweets.

For all I know, this guy had just run out of baby formula. Or something else that he truly needed desperately. For all I know, he just drove 30 miles to get into town right before the store closed.

Good Lord. Maybe his wife's at home dying, and her last request was that he bring her back some sour patch gummies.

I've been in that desperate "will you please give me a freaking break?!" mode, when it seems like the entire world is collapsing around you. and I'm pretty sure I was a jerk about it too.

So I just failed at basic human compassion.

I think that is the most fundamental value that I want my kids to learn. (D already has enough for 3 people, which may balance Mal's complete lack).

I guess I'll have to file this with all the other major mistakes I've made in my life: try not to do that again. Just be kind and offer to help when I can.

If you were "that guy," and happen to read this, I'm *really* sorry.

The Vacation that Almost Was

This morning, I saw this in the corner of my mail program:

Obviously not, though.

I thought of this last Sunday but it's slipped my mind the rest of the week until today. If we'd been going, this whole week would have been a fun ramp-up of packing and re-checking plans.

We're fortunate that we have gotten all of our prepaid costs, even the non-refundable stuff, returned, except for $200 (for our LEGOLAND tickets, but I'm being patient because I know it's a busy time for them, and they did refund our prepaid hotel stay, which was significantly more expensive).

When we canceled the trip, I was mostly worried about the money part, to the point that I wasn't actually sad about losing the vacation. You know how when you're in shock-and-act mode, you don't really have a lot of time to process feelings? And Mal has been having the time of his life the past few weeks, so he's completely unconcerned that we're not going to California. When I told him we weren't going to have to fly since we'd canceled the trip, he was SUPER excited.

Even with all of this, and the undeniable fact that we're in the group that can just grouse about the inconvenience of the shutdown, I'm still a little bummed about the loss of this cool "super touristy" trip I'd planned. So may I tell you about it? Okay. Thanks for indulging me.

Saturday, April 18 - I'd booked a midday flight, because my family are all late risers. But they kept pushing it back until we wouldn't get into Los Angeles until 6 PM, so they changed it to, 9:00 AM, as shown above. Due to the fact that we'd canceled a trip to Hawaii (because the property where we were planning to stay is for sale), we had a lot budgeted for airfare and splurged on our first (and likely last, so now probably never) first class tickets!

Also, I'd rented us the perfect "California car," a Ford Mustang convertible! We'd get into Los Angeles around 11:00 AM, after a lovely airplane breakfast, and the first stop would be, of course, Randy's Donuts.

Then we'd drive to Huntington Beach, where Mal could play on the All-Inclusive beach playground near the pier. We'd rent a Surrey for a couple of hours to explore the beach (it has about 7 miles of paved access), and when we'd had our fill of oceanside fun, drive on to Carlsbad. For a late lunch/early dinner, we'd stop by Park 101, which is a family-friendly place with a fun menu and outdoor area where kids can run around (yeah, we still like to have that option). Then, it'd be time to check in to the LEGOLAND California Castle Hotel. We'd spend the rest of the day exploring, playing on the playground there, and maybe even swimming. Although the seasonal high in Carlsbad right now is in the low 60s, the pool is heated.

Sunday, April 19 - Yes, we're right next to LEGOLAND, but it's not time for that yet. Sunday, we'd have breakfast at the hotel, because it's included. Then we'd walk or drive (depending on the status of James's legs) over to the Flower Fields at Carlsbad Ranch. It's only open two months a year, and I'm guessing the reality of COVID-19 destroyed this year's season. We'd have lunch at the Karl Strauss Brewery at the Pacific Palisades Resort, then drive out to the Leo Carrillo Ranch, a portion of the Spanish-style ranch once owned and renovated/maintained by the actor who played Poncho in the Cisco Kid.

We'd spend the afternoon at the hotel and then for dinner, pick up food at the Veggie Grill and have a picnic at the beach to watch the sunset. Although we'd probably also have to drive through at McDonald's to get Mal something to eat.

Monday, April 20 - LEGOLAND day at last! We'd probably go into the park early, when it opens at 9:30 for hotel guests, and spend half the day there. I was looking forward to trying Bahn Mi (which I recently learned is a food created, as so many other bread-based favorites like fry bread, by colonialism) and Granny's Apple Fries. We might break for rest and recreation at the hotel, or we might soldier on and be done by early afternoon. Then we could just relax the rest of the day.

Tuesday, April 21 - When we visited the American Banjo Museum in Oklahoma City, Mal was almost two years old. They had a banjo you could try, but after a while. Mal and James got kicked off because Mal was playing it a bit too... enthusiastically. (I'd left the general vicinity after a couple of minutes and spent the rest of Mal's solo watching an engaging Steve Martin retrospective.)

I was hoping Mal would have tempered his fortissimo for our visit to The Museum of Making Music. After a morning there, we were to drive north toward Anaheim and check in to the Howard Johnson Anaheim Hotel and Water Playground. We had a room that faced Disneyland, specifically the Matternorn. It's a beautifully landscaped hotel with a small water splash area for kids. There are quite a number of interesting restaurants nearby, including Ma's Chinese Islamic Restaurant, whose food looks amazing and also you can't wear shorts because it's very conservative. That would have been a go-to for sure.

Wednesday, April 22 - Our first ever trip to Disneyland! If you're ever going to the Disney Parks in the US, I highly recommend a subscription to Touring Plans. We had the whole day planned out, focusing on things that Mal would like (so James and I would switch off on Hyperspace Mountain and Star Tours, and otherwise avoid "thrill" rides); and including reservations to Oga's Cantina in Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge, the Droid Depot (where, yeah, you build a remote control droid that interacts with other droids and the environment in Galaxy's Edge), and the non-Star-Wars-themed restaurant Blue Bayou.

Thursday, April 23 - This was to be a rest day. We'd probably go over to Downtown Disney at some point, and otherwise just enjoy down time and hanging out at the hotel.

Friday, April 24 - This was the day for all things Cars: Disney's California Adventure. I didn't make any reservations for this day, but planned to ride Radiator Springs Racers first thing in the morning, and again after dark. They do this really cool thing at sunset in Carsland where they turn on the neon lights along the street while playing "Sh-Boom" (or "Life Would Be a Dream") JUST LIKE IN THE MOVIE. It makes me tear up a little bit thinking about it.



On both Disney days, I'd planned for us to knock out a bunch of stuff early in the day, then go back to the hotel, a less-than-10-minute walk away, for midday, and come back later to experience everything in the dark.

Saturday, April 25 - Our flight kept getting pushed later and later on this day, too, so we weren't actually supposed to fly out of LAX until 6:00 PM. I was pretty excited about that! We planned to go to Bob's Big Boy, the drive up to the Griffith Observatory. Griffith Park is HUGE, and there's another inclusive playground there called Shane's Inspiration.

Then we'd head back to the airport, enjoy a nice dinner on the plane, and hopefully Malcolm would be ready for bed as soon as we got home!

So... that's it. That's the week that would have started tomorrow.

When this first started and we saw that Disneyland was closing, I thought about trying to work it so we could still fly to California, but just stay at the Hyatt Regency in Huntington Beach... but then the restaurants all closed. So we canceled our flight. Turns out, the Hyatt is closed until June 1, now, anyway. Hyatt seems to have closed most of their resort-style properties, because there is just too much to attract people in one common space, I guess.

Keeping the family safe is our first priority, obviously, so staying home is better than the alternative or taking unnecessary travel and exposing ourselves or others to illness. But, man, that was going to be a fun week.

The Maker

Today, I realized that my younger child is like me in a way that my older child is not.

When D was little, we spent a lot of time at the library. For a small town, the Sherman library was not too shabby. At some point, D figured out that there were craft books at the library. Man, I hated when D picked out one of them. Although we had a lot of supplies, a specific craft inevitably meant a trip to Michael's or Hobby Lobby, and even though I've spent hours in many of them, I still don't understand how they're laid out.

D LOVED to make things. D still loves to make things. What all has D done? There was a beads phase.

It coincided with the Harry Potter phase.
I'm laughing about D asking the Easter face painter at my parents' church to try a snake.

There was a papier mache phase.

A Maya ceremonial plate. D also made a fish and a thunderbird, among other creatures.

And then there was the time that D became a self-taught balloon-animal maker.

When Mal was about 9 months old and D seemed securely out of craft mode, we donated 3 under-bed-storage boxes full of supplies to our local unschooling group for use at a retreat.

But then D moved on and learned (alone, no lessons; maybe some YouTube tutorials) how to sew. And how to sculpt clay, from forming to firing to painting. 

Throughout all of this time, D has also drawn. A lot. Thousands and thousands of pictures, and I haven't seen one of them in about four years. Ahh, teenagers.

Facilitating D's creative passions is what we do. Even when it's made me really tired, wandering clueless around a big box craft store for hours.

Mal... is a consumer more than a creator right now. I know that consuming gets a bad wrap (I just had to stop reading an interview with some author in Texas Monthly because she was bagging on that kind of thing), but it behooves creators to have consumers, doesn't it? Anyway. Mal is also right on brand with my lack of desire to complete crafting projects.

James's work is having a create-your-own Mario Kart contest. This should be right up Mal's alley because, Mario. I asked him if he wanted to do it, and for about a day and a half didn't get an answer. Then he said he did want to do it. We got a box, and I asked him how to design it. He said it needed to have a white circle with an "M" on it, like Mario's real car in the game (which we don't have).

Mal also said that the car needed to be red, like Mario's in the game. I asked, "How will we get it red? Paint? Or construction paper?" Faced with the extra work, Mal decided, "It doesn't need to be red." Later, we were talking about the wheels. I had a few plates to use for wheels, and asked Mal if he wanted to put some sticker letters on them or something. He said, "There aren't letters on the wheels in the game." I said, "That's okay. We can do whatever we want." "I'll just leave them plain." "But they're white. You just want white wheels?" "Never mind. We don't need wheels."

Needless to say, what we came up with was extremely minimalist, because Mal was just not interested in investing too much time into the project.

This is exactly how I've approached his Mario "kingdoms" that we've been making out of cardboard boxes. I've realized that he's at an age that even suggesting something poorly seems like magic to him, and he's pleased with whatever I do, even if it's messy. He's also willing to overlook inaccuracy, to a degree.

Anyway, here's what we came up with.

He did want the steering wheel to turn, so I made that happen.

Mal's Pranks

Yesterday, he got on a kick about "pranks." I'm sure this is an idea that he's picked up from youtubers. He kind-of gets it, but not really.

I'm in the process of swapping out phones. I really expected my previous phone to die about a week before my new phone arrived (on March 24). But it rallied, and it's been going strong ever since.

This wouldn't really matter, except that my old phone has an app that I have to have to log into different work accounts. There's something that will expire eventually that will allow me to transfer that app to the new phone.

Until that happens, I'm keeping the old one plugged in and hoping for the best every day when I make the 6m commute to the office.

While I was busy working today, Mal decided that it would be a hilarious prank to swap out my phone for our Nintendo Switch.

I'd try to log in, and be greeted by Mario instead.

Boy, I would have been so confused!

Laura was totally supportive of the idea at first. Then he mentioned that my phone was plugged in, and she remembered why that old phone is so important.

She recommended he wait until I was out of the room, then he could swap out my new phone.

He agreed, gave up, and told me about it later.

I should post pictures of them both. In the meantime, you can compare an article with a picture of the OnePlus 7t to a picture of Nintendo Switch.

I probably wouldn't have been fooled, but it would still have been pretty funny.

Later, we'd drifted apart. They were in his room. Mal rushed back and found me shut in my office, with all the doors closed and curtains drawn. He told me to be quiet and pretend I was asleep.

Then he rushed back to tell Laura that I was out like a light.

I suspected that this was a ruse to get her to brush his teeth before bed. She does too much without any thanks, so I wandered into the kitchen area and started to make loud fake-snore noises to let her
know I was awake.

He seems to have figured out enough about hide-and-seek to realize that that sort of thing is a dead give-away. He rushed back and demanded that I retreat to my office. My mission was accomplished, so I obeyed orders.

Then Laura remembered our party lights. She'd plugged them in earlier to make our Mario Italian Friday Fest picnic a little more festive. Neither of us wanted to leave them burning overnight.

She wanted to get outside to unplug them, but Carol wanted out also.

Carol's really good at this. She'll disappear for hours, cavort with strangers, bring back dangerous germs, and probably decimate the local bird population.

She's nowhere as deadly as Callie was, and probably not even as bad as Rudy. But social isolation also applies to cats.

So I popped out of my hidey-hole to herd her out of the way.

Laura escaped. Carol didn't.

Mal was broken-hearted that I ruined "our" "prank."

I tried to turn it into a teaching moment and explain that sometimes you have to look at the bigger picture and understand that the prank just is not as important as what's really going on.

His mind isn't ready for that sort of thinking.

Chins for the Win

How many chins do you have?
How much time do you spend
Thinking
About chins?
Or folds?
Angles?
Bulges?
Or how your ankles look in flats?
And whether they're cankles?
Do you avoid photos?
Do you gaze wistfully at old shots?
Do you wish you hadn't been so critical?
Taken it for granted?
How much more were you worth
When your waist was two inches smaller?
Or ten? Or twenty-five?
Were you more valuable then?
Will you be more valuable for attaining a
Smaller frame
In the future?
Is this the measure of a person:
Inversely proportional to their mass?
It seems silly, put like that,
Doesn't it?
It's not silly.
It's harmful.
Shameful.
Depressing.
Dangerous.
If you disassociate
Your chins
Your moon face
Your belly
Your thighs.
If you see chunks of yourself
As not yourself
But defects attached to your body
You will never
Stop objectifying bodies.
Not just your own.
And everyone loses.
So do the hard work
Not the work-outs, necessarily;
The dismantling.
Of fat-phobia.
Of an ideal rooted in white supremacy
And patriarchy.
Of a self-loathing
That keeps you focused
On yourself.
Free yourself
So you can seek justice for all bodies.
We're all worth more than this.

Social Distancing, Day 23 and 24

You'll be happy to know we're about halfway through my first menstrual period of social distancing, and so far no one has died. I'm irritated, though! Also, super glad I really like the people I live with because they're not annoying me at all. Am I annoying them? If only I cared enough to inquire.

Recently, the only tiny bit of "social media" that remained in my life was Nextdoor, and as of this week, after a heated argument with a couple of women over the apparent necessity of detailing in graphic fashion what can happen to your former pet if you re-home it with someone you don't know, I am done with that. Our neighborhood has had a few dramas brewing on the site for some time. But when I read what I read, just thrown out there with no content warning, I had to do something. It was not taken well. And I'm a neighborhood lead! I asked ND what I had to do to be removed, and they said that until I find a replacement, they can't "demote" me. Okay, fine. It'll just be a free-for-all with no attempts at moderation. Won't be much different from now.

Also, I'm feeling like maybe, once this is all over, we don't have to try to maintain friendships with other homeschoolers? Mal is SO social, but he has a couple of good friends, and it's been such a relief not to head out to a park, wondering whether anyone (even the organizer) is going to show up or not.

Also also, I'm feeling like, if it turns out James can work from home most of the time, we should just sell our house and live in an RV, specifically a motor home. We could travel over the weekends, and then plan to be parked somewhere during the week so James can have internet and time to do his vocation.

At the same time, I planted a new tree yesterday. We'd bought one gala and one Granny Smith apple tree last winter. The chickens loved taking baths at the food of the gala tree, often exposing its baby roots.

When trees started greening this year, we waited and waited and the gala tree never came back. Yesterday, I made the call that it was dead, and fortunately, Hill Country Water Gardens still had a fuji apple tree available. They're closed to the public, but you can order online or over the phone and go pick it up at their curbside. They get fruit trees in in the fall, and once they're out, they're out... so I was grateful to get the one we got. I planted it last night and we'll see how it goes. Hopefully, without animals to pick at it, this one will do better.

Additionally, I've decided that I might never be able to make it to church. Services are online now, and I still can't get it together in time. We're going to bed later and sleeping later than ever, and we were on a pretty lazy schedule before all of this. Also, I'm finding myself mildly irritated about a couple of minor things there, anyway, and... mehh.

I guess you could say I'm maybe a little stir crazy? I've gotten down on the floor and hand-scrubbed the kitchen and dining room floors, then did the same thing in the bathrooms a few days later. I have vacuumed my car. I have straightened and cleared out stuff in Mal's room. I have everything ready for our modest Easter celebration. We have plenty of groceries. My kids are happy. We're building a magical world of Mario for Mal to play with. We're the lucky ones. We're the privileged ones I'm reading about in all of the stories about how unevenly COVID-19 is hitting Americans (and we ARE trying to leverage that some).

So far, we have the Mushroom, Cap, and Cascade Kingdoms.

Speaking of Mario, tomorrow night is Friday Fest: Super Mario's Italian Extravaganza. We're ordering from Olive Garden which, I know, isn't actually Italian food. BUT, Mal requested it as he likes their spaghetti, and it also plays prominently in the movie Sonic the Hedgehog. This time, when Mal "dresses up" as Mario, he'll be totally on-point. It was a struggle to get him to embrace the theme, actually. He wanted to repeat the Minecraft one, ad infinitum, basically every Friday until we pass from this earth.

Oh! And a new thing: Mal has seen on YouTube commercials for Super Nintendo Land at Universal Studios. The one in Japan is supposed to open this August, but the one in Florida won't be ready until 2023. We'll have it as a goal to go, and we'll see how long Mal can keep up this enthusiasm. Hopefully by the time he's 9, Mal will be able to tolerate either an airplane ride or a pretty substantial road trip.

We've blown past the temperate week here in Central Texas and it's now 90 degrees and 80% humidity until October. I'll be glad when Urban Air is open again! I got Mal a little water pad for the back yard, and we'd gotten him a water table recently. Trying to find ways he can get outside and get some energy out without dying. He hates walking. I'm going on a walk or two every day, and I can sometimes get Mal to go on one, but he's usually complaining about going home within about two houses. So we typically take a stroller on the second one. It's ridiculous, but I need to get out and move.

And sometimes, he just plays with the water hose.

I guess that's about all of the non-news for now. My outlook will likely improve when this hormonal intrusion has abated. Or maybe it'll be worse. You know what would be fun? Menopause in quarantine.

Rethinking Paradise

Two weeks from yesterday, we were supposed to have gone on our first family vacation to a place neither James nor I had ever been before, doing stuff that would have been new to both of us, as well as Mal. Obviously, like many other people, our plans have been canceled. We've been very fortunate: Everything we've pre-paid, even the "non-refundable" stuff, has been refunded (except for about $200 we spent on LEGOLAND tickets, but I think we'll get that back... I'm not pressing it because I know how busy everyone in hospitality is right now).

Previously, I'd mentioned needing maybe to rethink how we vacation, based on environmental concerns as well as the reality of the family I have right now. At some point, we'll no doubt travel again, but I'm starting to see that what we will do is likely different in several ways.

The first is that I don't think we'll be flying for a while. It gives Mal a LOT of anxiety and, frankly, the past few times we've flown, I've been unreasonably nervous. Maybe by the time he's grown up, someone will have figured out how to reach the thrust one needs to fly without burning through tons of fossil fuel.

Seth Meyers was giving an interview on another late night show a few weeks ago, and describing a trip he took with his family. His wife had organized a trip to Uruguay, and they'd planned to take a red-eye flight so that the kids would sleep for most of the 10 PM - 8 AM flight. As they were about to get onto the flight to Miami, they found out that their connecting flight had been "delayed" by twelve hours, and they were actually leaving at 10 AM the following day.

They got an airport hotel room in Miami, and his older kid remarked, as they stepped in, "Daddy, this is beautiful!" There was some drama involved in this, but eventually they got two cribs in the room so each of the kids would have his own.

Meyers said that the ten-hour flight with both kids awake was every bit as miserable as you might imagine, but then they got to Uruguay, and it was every bit as gorgeous and wonderful as his wife had promised him it would be.

After the vacation, he took his older son back to his first day of post-trip school, and the child ran up to friends bragging, "We stayed in this hotel that had TWO CRIBS!" He realized aloud that they could have stayed at the Miami airport and his kids would have had an amazing vacation.

Anyone who's ever planned an elaborate vacation with a kid, only to have them want to hang out at the pool, knows this to be true.

Mal talks about several things a lot: Great Wolf Lodge, Animal Kingdom Lodge (the hotel at Disney World... but never about the theme parks), Royal Caribbean, World of Peppa Pig, Space Center Houston, and the Crayola Experience. He loves hotels. He loves interacting with things for a little while. Then he loves to relax at the hotel.

James and I could easily plan an amazing vacation that involves hiking, but our son would make it miserable. I could plan a trip that involved roller coasters and thrill rides, but Mal would hate it. James could plan a long, leisurely road trip, but I'd get antsy after a few hours. So what do we do?

I think, for now, we work with what we have. For one, we drive to places we want to see. Do I want to be where the weather is different than it is in Texas (most of the time)? Yep. It is worth it right now? Not really. Second, our forays with nature will mostly involve gardens and parks, and a stroller as long as Mal can fit in one. Could he walk for an hour and a half? Of course. Is it worth it to us to deal with that? Big "no" on that one. Third, I have to know that for James and Mal to enjoy time away from home, I have to build in a LOT of down time. More than I'd like. And maybe I excuse myself to get some pictures or see something offbeat that I'm the only one who cares about. It's a good balance.

Basically, I need to remember that a modest few days of relaxation and some minor amusements is really all we need for the time being. In a couple of weeks, I'll walk you through the vacation that will never be, because I'd planned what I think is some pretty cool stuff. But it will be the picture of a vacation I don't think we'll be attempting to take again for quite some time. And that's okay.

I'm just gonna zoom... away

You know what has been reiterated in my brain the past few weeks? I am NOT a video call person. I have never enjoyed them and I continue not to enjoy them, even as everyone is going to them as a way of connecting face-to-face.

I decline.

I don't need to see someone's face in order to feel their presence. When I'm on the phone with someone, I usually do things like cleaning the kitchen or sweeping or taking out the trash. These things are neither visually stimulating nor easy to accomplish if you have to hold a device and keep it trained on yourself.

When you add in more than two people, it just goes straight off the rails.

I know that people use Zoom and other conference technology for work. I think it mostly works in that way, because it is assumed that there is an agenda and people are mostly orderly in their input -- although James told me today he also eschews most "let's just get on a quick Zoom call and wrap this up" invitations because he prefers email, where both parties can think about their words and present a coherent, complete thought that will also be in writing.

But my church is trying to keep people in touch with Zoom and every time I've participated so far, it's been awkward. Either one person just talks more than everyone else, or when people try to chat, three people start at the same time... then stop... then start again... and it's just hard. There's a difference in person, where you can kind of feel the timbre of the room and tell by someone's body language that they're about to launch into a story so you don't interrupt. As much.

Also, it still doesn't "feel like" getting together. If you get together with a group of 12 people, there might be three active conversations going on at once. You can't do that if you're on a Zoom call. And hearing. Maybe it works for people who use sign language, but, again, you'd have to maximize the right window. Ehh.

THEN this week, they did a virtual happy hour (which James's work is also doing) where they were going to have a sing-along. Oh my word. My sister and I were talking about this earlier, how Zoom emphasizes one single sound source. It's kind of neat when someone starts talking and Zoom identifies who it is and highlights their window so you can tell who you're listening to without having to scan thumbnails.

However, this means that whoever sings loudest in a sing-along will be the main thing one hears, even if that's not the person with the accompaniment... or pitch. It just sounded like an awkward disaster waiting to happen, so I begged off. Well, it *was* my anniversary. And I also decided that a sing-along like that must be total hell on the other people in the house who are not participating. Especially if the user has earphones, as I would have.

So if you want to get in touch, feel free to call me! On a voice call. After you've texted me to warn me. And maybe I'll answer. Miss you all, though! Really!

Anniversary At Home

Seven years ago today, James and I thought we were pretty clever getting surprise-married on April Fool's Day.  The way it played out in social media was predictably a blast. A lot has changed since then! First, photographic evidence.

Back then, young early 40-somethings.

Today. Middle-aged.

Ahh, yes, seven years ago... back when we could sit on the patio at Mozart's Coffee Roasters just eating a snack and drinking some beverages like people unafraid of a global pandemic. Man, how we've grown since then. Also, we were both definitely wearing pants in the first picture. The second? No one but us and the squirrels in the back yard can say for sure.

Also, social media is a thing of the past for me (and James has never been super wrapped up in it), so I'm just assuming that people are going on with their lives without ever thinking of our connubial bliss or the significance of this date.

In fact, we're barely thinking of it. On Sunday, it happened to cross my mind. I asked James in passing, "Do you know what Wednesday is?" He said, "Is it day... what? of the lockdown?" I told him he could think about it a while, and I asked again later. He screwed up his face in thought. I hinted, "Tuesday is the day you get paid." He said, "Is Wednesday the day we're broke again?" "Actually, yes, because the house payment goes out the same day. But that's not it." Then it finally clicked for him.

Last night, I told James, "Don't worry; I won't come out of the bedroom tomorrow until you tell me it's safe to emerge and see my surprise." We both got a laugh out of that one.

I did make a celebratory chocolate bobka, though. It's extremely tasty.

There's really no one else I'd rather be stuck in the house with for an undetermined period. And, if there ever were a perfect time to be remanded to the domicile, this would be it. That is, if you believe in the "Seven Year Itch." If that were to be a malady to which either of us were predisposed, attempts to scratch it would violate federal recommendations as well as state and county orders.

Here's to seven more years, and then another seven. We'll just keep going until one of us dies of stubbornness. Lucky us.