The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 27

Getting Better at Doing Less: A Quarantine Resolution

I can't even fathom what boredom is. The last time I was bored was in 1977. I made the mistake of telling my mom that I was bored. "Boring people are bored." I think she said that. Or, at least, it's her voice in my head. Regardless, her solution was that I should clean the bathroom. After that fatal mistake, I never used the word "bored" again. In high school, I found it fascinating that the German verb for "bored" is reflexive. In the German language, you cannot "be bored." Instead, you "bore yourself" or "something bores you." But you can't just simply be bored without owning cause and ownership.

And yet--the New York Times says that children need to be bored. Huffpo says that children thrive when they are faced with boredom. In fact, every parenting advice columnist out there says that boredom is a good thing.

I've always had a tremendously full plate, by design. I worked several jobs in college while taking full class loads. I waited tables on the weekends when I started teaching. I raised two kids while working full-time. I got my doctorate while working full time and raising two kids. Every year, I added more onto my plate. Clearly, I like to take on too much at any given time. I don't know how to sit down. I can't watch tv without doing something else (the mending? my nails? yoga? 3 different text conversations?) at the same time. When I run, I also listen to music and write lesson plans in my head at the same time. When I cook, I watch Hallmark movies. When I drive in the car, I listen to a book.

I never stop moving, thinking, writing. There is always a list of things to do. A checklist of tasks.

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash

Today, as I was out walking, I was listening to Charles Duhigg's podcast How To. Specifically, the episode "How to Not Go Crazy Under Quarantine." In the episode, Duhigg interviews Celeste Headlee, author of Do Nothing: How to Break Away from Overworking, Overdoing, and Underliving to find out how to get better at doing less, thereby living a fuller life. 

Headlee suggests that we have to learn to sit in silence. That we allow ourselves to be bored. That we learn to single-task. That we listen to music for the sake of listening to music. The last time I listened to music just for the sake of listening was because I was making a mix-tape for my boyfriend in 1986 and I had to press record just at the sweet spot when the radio announcer stopped talking and before the singer started singing.

Headlee suggests that we take up a hobby. Like knitting or stamp-collecting. That we find quiet pursuits and learn how to pursue them. That we call our friends. That we give ourselves a break.

But even in this forced quarantine, I have 875 things on my list of things to do. Boxes to unpack from the great remodel of 2018. Pounds to lose from the great ankle breakage of 2019. Journal articles to edit. Novels to write. Dishes to do. Laundry to put away. Books to read. Songs to learn. Lesson plans to write. Parents to call. Miles to run.

I'm not sure I know how to be bored or to let myself be bored. I'm not sure I would recognize it if I was. There is always so much to do. And I am a bit embarrassed to say that I am thankful for this extra time, so that I can slow down just a little bit, and not beat myself up too much for how long the to-do list is and how little I manage to accomplish every day.

This quarantine is a gift of time. I just hope that I can get everything done in time so that I can find the time to be bored, and maybe get a little bit better at doing less.

I'll add that to my to-do list.

The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 26

This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things This is Why We Will Prevail

I always try to believe in the inherent good of humanity: the common thread of human spirit that connects us all. I'm not a naive Pollyanna, but I have to believe that people are generally good, if I'm going to be able to do my job day after day. Jim Casy, one of my all-time favorite characters, said it best: 

"There ain't no sin and there ain't no virtue. There's just stuff people do. It's all part of the same thing. And some of the things folks do is nice, and some ain't nice, but that's as far as any man got a right to say."

Photo by Biegun Wschodni on Unsplash

There's a lot of truth in those four simple sentences. Good and evil are all a part of the same thing, maybe even the same force. People do good things and people do bad things, and it's not our job to judge.

But sometimes the assholes are yelling so damn loud that it's hard to remember that people are inherently good. 

I can't get over the backlash against a scared mom who posted on a local Facebook community page, asking people to not burn leaves, because her son has terrible asthma and she can't risk taking him to the hospital right now. Some people posted notices of the burn bans that are in effect in Michigan, pointing out that burning leaves would actually be illegal. But then the backlash started. How dare this mom tell them what they could do in their own backyard? It's a free country. They'd burn their leaves if they wanted to. Maybe she should just move.

I can't get over the people who insist that only certain people (local residents of an acceptable age and income) should be able to pick up food from local schools and that everyone else should just go find a food bank. As various meddling moms said, " It's bullcrap how kids from other school districts collect from that district and then collect from the school they go to" and "the food is NOT for the whole family and NOT for the elderly" and "it should ONLY go to those who are on free- and reduced-lunch."

I can't get over the vitriol against the shelter-in-place order. Certain Facebook groups (that I will not link you to because they are toxic) are raging against the Governor and her Executive Order. How dare SHE violate THEIR FREEDOM? As one particularly rabid man ranted, "Why in the hell should 100% of us lose our freedom to do whatever we want, just to protect 2% of the people who are probably weak anyway?"

Why in the actual hell?

I'll tell you why.

Because it's up to us to save each other. It's up to us to do the right thing and protect everyone around us. Even if they are weak. Especially it they are weak. Even if they are rabid, ranting assholes. Even if they are selfish social media police, trying to make sure that no one takes too many cheese sticks. Even if they insist that their right to burn leaves and go up North to their lake cottage is more important than a kid's life. It's up to us to protect them.

We are not sacrificing a great deal to stay home. Yes, it's frustrating. It's anxiety-inducing. For many people, it's terrifying as they risk losing their jobs, their income, their businesses. But we are going to be okay. The government is acting, but bureaucracy takes a long damn time and our years of social safety net inertia make it hard to get the wheels rolling in the right direction.

In the meantime, the local schools are handing out meals to every student and family who stops by, "eligible" or not. One of my favorite online news writers, the editor of Wonkette, has set up a slush fund through GoFundMe and is handing out cash to those in need. Donors have kicked in almost $58,000 and handed out small cash payments to cover rent, food, bills. Tiny food pantries have popped up next to tiny little libraries, and people are keeping them stocked. Crafters in mid-Michigan, led by Jessy Gregg, owner of Seams Fabric, have sewed 11,000 masks to give away to those in need, even as some of the donated supplies were stolen off Gregg's front porch. 

Because good people will win, dammit. They just will. They will social distance. They will (safely, with hand sanitizer and Lysol) hand out food. They will donate money to strangers. They will sew until their fingers bleed. They will stand up for those in need. 

Some of the things folks do is nice.

And the nice folks doing the nice things: they will donate their time and their energy and their money if and when they can, and they will help us all remember that the assholes are yelling so damn loud only because they are so full of hot air.

The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 25

Go Home, Michigan. You're Drunk.

Yesterday, I sat outside in the gorgeous sunshine for 5 hours while I Zoomed my AP Lit class, a staff meeting, and two student writing conferences.

Yesterday, I went on a socially responsible 7 mile walk on the Lake Lansing North trails with my "daughter from another mother." We both got sunburned; I now have a mean case of farmer's tan.

Yesterday, I took a picture of sloth-tree.

Yesterday, I did 10 sun salutations while I cooked dinner.

Today, I woke up and the sun was shining. And then it hailed.

Today, I sat inside, shivering under a blanket and drinking reheated coffee, while I wrote lesson plans for next week.

Today, I went to PT and was encouraged by my physical therapist to contact my surgeon to find out if I could gradually start running again. Surely, if I can walk 7 miles on trails, I can run for 30 seconds?

Today, I contacted my surgeon to ask said question. He said no.

Today, I spent $280 at Aldi to try to feed my family for the next week. (FYI: they are still out of Pop Tarts, chicken noodle soup, sparkling water, and toilet paper.) I had to aggressively play defense while all the Shipt shoppers wandered aimlessly through the store, no apparent pattern in mind, staring at their phones and touching everything.

Today, I pulled a muscle in my back at PT when the Total Gym slipped off the track but no one believed me.

Today, I am sitting in the recliner with a heating pad on my left shoulder, pain radiating up my neck, from a physical therapy session on my ankle.

Today, the sun shone. And then it hailed. And then it rained. And then it hailed some more.

Today, the kids ran outside, barefoot, scooping up handfuls of Dippin' Dots hail smooshing it between their fingers.

Today, I took pictures of daffodils in the snow.

Today, the Executive Order to "suspend activities that are not necessary to sustain or protect life" was expanded and extended until the end of April.

Today, it snowed on my sunburn.

The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 24

THESE SAME FACES

I love my people. I do. If I had to shelter-in-place, these are the people I would have chosen to shelter with. I love getting to see my kids more than just in the rear-view mirror as we race from sports practices to school events every night. I love hearing my son practice guitar regularly. I love taking long walks with my daughter and my partner and my dog. The family dinners have been great (except for the complaints about the food). My daughter's daily demand for me to "spill the tea" cracks me up; a month ago, she would have rolled her eyes if I even tried to start a conversation.

But, if I have to hear "Ya like Jazz?" one more time, I'm going to stab myself in the thigh, Portia-style, just to be able to run out of the room and get a Band-aid. When and why did Vines and TikToks become actual ways to have conversations and how can I make this stop?

I love these faces. I do. But THESE SAME FACES EVERY DAY are kind of driving me insane.

Why does every bite have to be so noisy? And who slurps coffee? NO ONE! No one slurps coffee! Except for the people living in this house. They are slurpers.

And who hates pizza? And chicken nuggets? and macaroni and cheese? And vegetables? And fruit? NO ONE! No one hates these things! Except for the people living in my house. Buncha haters.

I'm tired of the perky yoga instructor and her ridiculous optimism. I'm definitely tired of Jillian Michaels and I kinda want to punch her in the (very toned) face.

I'm tired of my Facebook feed. I'm tired of seeing the same stories over and over again. And I'm really tired of seeing ads in my feed for stretch pants. I GET IT, FACEBOOK. I GET IT. I NEED TO WORK OUT MORE. QUIT ATTACKING ME.

I am so impressed at how quickly my son has picked up guitar. And the chords he plays are gorgeous. And I love that he loves the Beatles unconditionally, truly unique for an 11 year old. But for the love of all that is music, PLEASE learn songs other than the Beatles! I just can't "Yellow Submarine" any more. I JUST CAN'T.

My dog is the most amazing dog in the world and you cannot convince me otherwise. But I am SO TIRED of THROWING THE BALL.

I love my people. I do. And I am so incredibly lucky that we are all here, safe, healthy, and (mostly) happy. We are so incredibly privileged and I am so incredibly thankful.

But these same faces every single day, day in and day out, are kind of driving me insane.

The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 23

Lightning Crashes

It is so easy to get caught up in the frustrations of the day-to-day. 

Dishes. Again. Pasta. Again. Scooping the cat litter. Again.  The meaninglessness of a schedule.

The list we make for ourselves and then ignore because we'll be here tomorrow. And next Tuesday. And the entire month of May.

The knowledge that people you know, friends of friends, are sick. Some are dying.

The constant reminder that our elected officials are immoral. Narcissistic. Incompetent. 

The vaguely guilty feeling of going to the liquor store to buy beer; the feeling that you are doing something wrong.

The disappointment that those whom you care about --the very purpose of what you do-- just don't/can't/won't show up.

The hurt of being ghosted. Disrespected. Ostracized. By people whom you used to respect.

The realization that the reflection staring back at you in the mirror--pale, overweight, aging-- that's the truth that you have to embrace and somehow learn to love.

But then, lightning crashes. A storm rolls through. There's the possibility of damaging winds.

You reconnect online with people who meet you halfway, who hold the same truths close to their own hearts. You plan. You create. You build ideas to try to offer the world.

You know that, chances are, when you put yourself out there, that the people who need to show up probably won't/can't/don't.

But it might be enough, for now, to remember. That there are people who will meet you halfway, who hold the same truths close to their own hearts. Who plan. Create. Build ideas.

It's storming out. Rain and lightning and thunder and hail. There's the possibility of damaging winds.

But you are in the basement with the people you hold most dear. Watching Community and writing and drawing and waiting out the storm. Together.

Lightning crashes. But it's okay. Sometimes the storms bring us together and remind us of what we hold most dear.

The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 22

Makin' Whoopie

We are at the point in the grocery game where all the fresh produce is gone and I'm attempting to make food out of random items still in the pantry. It's like an episode of Chopped. Anyone have an idea for water chestnuts, sweet pickles, smoked adobe peppers, and cream of mushroom soup? Yeah, me neither.

Enter the lone can of puréed pumpkin, left over from the holiday season. I'm not a huge fan of pumpkin spice anything, so I try to avoid recipes that turn perfectly good pumpkin into a spice cake, which is basically every pumpkin recipe ever.  Skimming through a "50 Canned Pumpkin Recipes" post on the Food Network site looking for inspiration, I found the recipe for a bit of a dream in #43: pumpkin-nutella whoopie pies! I I never would have thought about putting these two flavors together, so I did a quick Google search and found out that lots of pumpkin-nutella recipes are out there. They were all over-complicated, though, and insisted on drizzling and dunking and adding all of that pumpkin spice nonsense. So I went back to the original recipe #43 and made it. I've gotta tell ya: this recipe is a must-do. The cookies are soft and mildly flavored, and the nutella is a perfect match. The entire batch took about 20 min to make and almost as long to disappear. Sam (yes, the pickiest eater of them all) said, "Mom? Don't let it go to your head, but this is the best dessert you have ever made. Ever."

Have a random can of pumpkin in your pantry? Make these. Now.

In other whoopie news, you know what's not an essential service? Spaying and neutering animals. My "daughter from another mother" has an 8-month old kitten that was given to her from a barn litter. And poor Stella (the cat, not the daughter) is in heat. She is miserable and confused and currently trying to sex it up with everyone and everything, including the refrigerator. But all spay and neuter clinics are closed. So, please stay home, my friends. Stella needs you to stay home so that clinics can reopen and she can stop offering herself to all passersby and stationary furniture.

And the final bit of whoopie today is brought to you by the letter F. We walked the Lake Lansing trails today, and the sexy frogs (F was for frog, my friends. Jeesh. Where is your mind?) were singing up a storm, calling out to all the pretty ladies. And we realized, as we walked and talked, that nature really had very little concern for us and our pandemic. Nature goes on as usual, and the cycles of life continue. All we people do is get in the way and muck it all up. We try to constantly bend the planet to our will -- but if we don't get over ourselves soon, we will simply break it. 

But it's not broken yet. And the frogs? They are rarin' to go.

The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 21

Why Do We Have So Much Stuff?!

Today, I finally crossed a chore off my to-do list that has been on it since Thanksgiving weekend. I cleaned the bathroom. --No, don't be ridiculous; of course I've cleaned the sink and mirror and shower and toilet since Thanksgiving.-- But what I haven't cleaned is the linen closet/storage and the vanity drawers and shelves. In fact, I haven't cleaned those out in at least a year, if not two. What was once a fairly coherent storage system had morphed into plastic bags and boxes and cartons of crap, all shoved onto the shelves and into the bins. Need a chap stick? Good luck. I know we have at least 10 of them because I buy in bulk, but you're gonna have to dig. Out of conditioner? I know that I have purchased a bottle each and every time I've gone to the store, so there's a lot of conditioner in there somewhere. Just keep digging.

I list for you, in no particular order, some of the things I found.

4 bottles of conditioner, 3 bottles of curl cream, 2 spray bottles of curl booster, 2 cans of hair spray, 2 tubes of hair gel, 2 jars of hair paste, and 2 samples of "blow straight" smoothing cream (for whom??!!).

4 bottles of blue hair dye and 3 bottles of purple hair dye.

An unopened Madison Reid kit of auburn hair dye.

Hair chalk.

16 chap sticks.

32 hair elastics and 19 barrettes.

An RBG set of glasses and decorative collar; a Frida Kahlo flowered headband.

14 hotel shampoos, 12 hotel conditioners, 3 hotel lotions, 1 hotel body wash, 8 hotel soaps.

An entire storage container of girls' headbands and hair accessories.

5 glasses cases. (1 with glasses!)

4 boxes of tampons. 3 boxes of pads.

3 bottles of mouthwash. 7 toothbrushes. 17 containers of floss. (We really need to floss more.)

7 bars of soap.

5 nail clippers (2 big, 3 small).

5 cans of bug spray (it doesn't even belong in the bathroom!) and 2 tubes of sun screen (again, does NOT belong in the bathroom).

2 bottles of self-tanner, 2 bottles of "skin tightener," 4 jars of night cream.

A can of dry shampoo. (What is this and why is it in my house? I have never used dry shampoo in my life. If I'm not gonna wash my hair, I'm just straight up not gonna wash it.)

Why do we have all this stuff?! I know why. Because I am always so constantly busy that things just get tossed in the bottom of the linen closet or into the drawers and then, when we can't find the nail clippers, I buy more. And then the piles of stuff become so overwhelming that it takes me a literal lockdown to buckle down and clean and organize and throw away a mountain full of stuff that we clearly have not used in a year or 7 and clearly do not need.

But, a little girl from Facebook Marketplace just got a whole storage container of girls' headbands and hair accessories (sprayed with Lysol, of course) new to her, that can be added to the piles of stuff in her own mom's bathroom.

And I'm gonna go dye my hair. Possibly purple.

The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 20

Ramblings About Sexy Frogs and Air Pollution and Hope

Michael and I went for a long walk around the lake tonight after dinner. It has been raining on and off all day and the resulting mix of dusk, mist, and fog cast a soft-focus haze over everything. It was almost surreal, the quiet. Over 5 miles, we saw maybe 10 cars, most of them pizza delivery. Instead of the bustle of business which would be the norm, there was silence. I could hear our footsteps as I walked down the center of the road, not needing to stick to the shoulder. I heard my own earrings jangling, a sound that must always be there, but that I never hear.

There were so many different birds calling, 10 or 20 or 30 different songs, like a band warming up before the concert, every instrument going its own direction, a jangle of sound. Underneath the soprano birds, the percussion of sexy frogs croaked their sexy frog croaks, luring the ladies over to the frog party. Fat squirrels stopped their pursuit and stared at us belligerently, as we trespassed in their world. A muskrat went about his business, traipsing through the marshy weeds and sliding into the water. 

We are used to so much noise and residual light that we rarely hear the songs in the silence. We are so persistently busy that we turn a blind eye to what is happening just beyond our smartphone screens. But take notice: In late January/early February Antarctica had a heatwave; recording a high temperature of 65 degrees Fahrenheit. The ice melt in Greenland is at the level projected to be a worst-case scenario in 2070. We are destroying our planet. 

Suddenly, we have been forced, through our own incompetence in handling a pandemic, into a weeks-long shelter-in-place to try to flatten the curve. And the sudden global shutdown from the Coronavirus has had a stunning and immediate effect: Satellite imagery shows a dramatic decline in pollution worldwide. The skies in California are blue again. The air quality in India has improved dramatically. There is less seismic activity reported globally. The water in the canals in Venice is suddenly clear. Goats are taking over the towns. 

I, for one, welcome our new goat overlords pic.twitter.com/Fk5x6XaCLM— Andrew Stuart (@AndrewStuart) March 30, 2020 

Will we learn anything from this epidemic and actually change our ways? Will we suddenly look up from our phones and realize that even simple changes can not only save lives, but save our planet? Will we stop moving long enough to listen, really listen to the birds and the frogs and each other?

My guess is no. We are too short-sighted and easily distracted and living for instant gratification as a human race to truly change.

But a girl can hope, as she walks around a lake in the dusk, listening to the sexy frogs croaking out their love songs in the mist.

A girl can hope. 

The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 19

A Pandemic Cookbook: Meals That Your Family Will Eat

I love to cook. It is therapy for me, a chance to be creative and create something from the soul. I love to bake, I love to make soup, I love to invent dishes. I ❤ to cook.

But now, I feel like I've been cooking for 94,523 days in a row. I am so tired of pasta (and of the house smelling like meat). The dishwasher is running constantly, because by the time the cycle is done, I have another load to go. What I am saving in gas I am spending in dish soap. And I am fresh out of ideas for meals for this picky, picky family. "What's for lunch, mom?" Sam asks every day, followed by "UGH" when I tell him.

"What's for dinner, mom?"

"UGH."

And so, I have created the following pandemic cookbook for you, filled with meals that your family will eat, made with items you already have in the pantry and freezer. And I am sharing it, free of charge. You're welcome.

Saturday: Pasta Bar!

Pasta
Sautéed onions and peppers
Cheese
Meat
Sauce

Sunday: Pizza Bar!

Pizza Crusts
Sautéed onions and peppers
Cheese
Meat
Sauce

Monday: Taco Bar!

Taco shells
Sautéed onions and peppers
Cheese
Meat
Sauce

Tuesday: Stir Fry Bar!

Rice
Sautéed onions and peppers
Cheese?
Meat
Sauce

Wednesday:  Loaded Tots Bar!

Tots

Sautéed onions and peppers
Cheese
Meat
Sauce

Thursday: Burger Bar!

Hamburger Buns

Sautéed onions and peppers
Cheese
Meat
Sauce

Friday: Order from Crunchy's!

Pizza
Basket of Tots
Fish Tacos
Crunchy Burger
Crowlers of Jai Alai and Oberon.

Seriously. if you one of the lucky few who is
still getting a paycheck, support your locally owned places and order pick-up. You won't regret it. And you can avoid the UGH and the  dishwasher for one incredibly beautiful night. ❤

The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 18

So Happy Together

I've been trying to joke around with this whole mandatory social distancing STAY THE FUCK AT HOME forced "vacation," but today it truly dawned on me: we are all trapped here. Together. Indefinitely.

All this togetherness sounds lovely at first, a throwback to less complicated schedules and more family time. Like Leave it to Beaver, but with more Youtubers and fewer salads made with gelatin. But without access to the hobbies that make us uniquely us and give us a chance to spread our wings alone, we all just end up flapping in each other's faces and fighting over the same resources.

My request to the kids to go outside and walk the dog at 4 in the afternoon was met with whines and disdain. It was too hot. They were too sweaty. They were too hungry. They just got back from outside. They'd do it later.

I gave up.

And then, after dinner, the fight.

"I was going to walk the dog!"

"Well I was going to play fetch with him!"

"But I'm going  to walk the dog!"

At which point there was some chasing and some barking and some tackling and then I see my daughter running down the street, carrying the dog, leash in hand. 

My son stomps in. Doors were slammed. Curses against his sister were muttered. He hates her. He also hates practicing piano. Which he then proceeded to do. Loudly.

Meanwhile, I head out for a walk and to listen to a webinar about AP Exam updates (because I am still working, even when I'm not working). And I am immediately tracked down by my daughter (now with leash attached to dog), who launches into all of the ways her brother gets on her very last nerve ON PURPOSE and how he waited --WAITED-- until SHE wanted to walk the dog before HE decided to play fetch.

It's a little thing, this silly fight. A fight about nothing at all. But when it stretches out to infinity, with no end in sight, daily fights over nothing because there's nothing we can do because everything is cancelled...

As soon as it gets warm enough, I'm going to pitch a tent in the backyard and move in there. Just me and a box of wine and the dog.