I’m sitting here, on my couch, watching a little TV with my husband before we go to bed, and I realized that I have officially reached grandmahood.

Every time I see this meme, I laugh, because it’s totally me. I still have many of my toys from childhood, and they’re still in perfect condition (minus my Barbies, because I played with them waaaaayyyy too much for them to have survived....I feel like they had a good, albeit violent, life, at any rate).

Anyway, this meme really is me. But today I realized how very grandma-like I am. I’m sitting here, after a day of baking bread, making homemade lotion and salves with my dried lavender from this summer’s garden; I’m also planning to bake Christmas cookies tomorrow, and I’m crocheting a baby blanket for a cousin’s little girl. 

So, just call me Granny.

For reals, when did this happen? Not that I’m sad about it, but it just all hit me at once. Everything I do is something my grandmas did. I wear the shoes my mom’s mom used to wear (Birkenstocks are the best for my big old German feet), I love to do word games and puzzles like my dad’s mom, and I knit, crochet, and hand make all of our baked goods.

Wow...this is awkward. I’m not sure when the other really old lady stuff is going to start, but I’m not pumped. The nightgown all day part doesn’t seem too bad, but the boobs down to my knees, forgetting my own name, and drinking coffee with all of my meals part seems a little weird. Also the part where I lose all of my teeth and have to get dentures. And the sagging. All of the sagging.

I’m in trouble.

Yikes.

Christmas thought time. It’s already December and I feel like this whole year has been an exercise in frustration and guilt. But since we’re all in it together, it’s probably time for me to think of something positive.

I tend to spend a lot of time worrying that I’m not doing enough and this year has been no exception. I’ve been obsessed with weight for as long as I can remember, so this year I’ve tried really hard to focus on being healthy, rather than losing weight. After a whole year of not dieting, I still haven’t lost any weight, but I haven’t gained any, either, so I guess the dieting wasn’t nearly as helpful as I thought it would be.

I’ve decided that, for the remainder of the year, at least, I’m going to make myself a list of eight mentally and physically healthy little things and try to do six of them a day. I figure some of them will become habits, and with all those little things to keep up with, maybe I won’t get too wrapped up in my size. 

I definitely tend to obsess, especially about big things I can’t do anything about. It’s lovely.

So I’m doing what I can; we’ll see if it sticks. I’ll try it for a month and then go from there. Just little stuff, like taking a walk, drinking extra water, meditating, and a few other items. Shouldn’t be too bad. At any rate, 2020 is almost over, the election crazy is almost all the way behind us, and there’s a vaccine on the horizon. 

Oh, and cookies. There will also be cookies before the month is out. Heck yes.

 Camping post time!

Yep, we finally got to go out again, after having to cancel last month’s trip due to the entire world being on fire. It really stank. I’m still off social media, but blogging doesn’t count, because I want to share my picture. This is our view from our kickass tiny T@b 400 camper, which we have taken out four times and are still in love with, despite having to work out a few kinks to make it better for us.

So here’s the picture. Gee whiz, the world is completely crazy right now, but Fall in New Mexico is glorious.

 I know, I’m posting twice in a month. It’s a Christmas in September Miracle!

So I’m going to take a break from the social media, I think. I think I’m done with the nastiness, pettiness, and judgmental posts telling everyone else that they aren’t doing enough to support whatever (because if they did good stuff, how would anyone know unless they could plainly see it on the person’s Facebook or Instagram or Twitter or whatever else? Obviously no one could ever do anything privately, without announcing it to the virtual world).

All the sides. All of them. We are ridiculous.

Social media posts can be nice and cute and encouraging, but I think too many people, myself included, forget that there’s so much we can do in the real world. There are people here, in our very own towns, who need help. Including us. Also, instead of pointing fingers at everyone else, maybe think about what we can do ourselves.

I don’t know. I don’t have answers. My life is definitely not in order right now, and I think the social media barrage doesn’t improve my quality of life at all. So, a break. For sure  

 Definitely had to announce that one publicly. Keep myself honest, haha.

 Okey dokey. It’s September and the last month has been chock full of hotness, people being bitchy about mask wearing, and wind. Oh, and not going on vacations and generally going to work, going to my Dad’s, and staying home.

That’s it. That’s the world we all live in now.

Did I mention the hotness? Because wow. Ninety plus degrees in September? What? And then last night it drops into the 40s and this morning, there’s snow on the ground. Snow. For reals. But we can’t turn on the heat, as it’ll be eighty degrees again in a few days.

I feel like this week’s weather is a perfect start to Autumn 2020. Crazy, unpredictable, and irritating as it can be. Thanks, global warming.

Also, everything is on fire, so we can’t really have outside time unless I’m willing to pay for it with truckloads of snot and itchy eyes. And it looks like it’s that way everywhere. I have a feeling it’s going to get worse before it gets better.

Also, I have a headache and I have to go to work today and I don’t wanna.

Also also, I’m feeling whiny and maybe I need a nap.

Also also also I know it’s clichéd to say so, but 2020 really is a big old dumpster fire. And that is all.

Zucchini Bread

It’s that time of year again. The time when people are looking around frantically for something to do with their huge zucchini that stayed on the vine and got too big for good eating on their own. Yep. Zucchini bread time.

If I had to pick one Mom recipe that feels more like home than anything else, it would be zucchini bread. Among all the other homemade goodness that she had going on in her kitchen, every year right around this time, the zucchini madness would start. My Dad would sit at the table and run the ten million zucchini through the crank shredder thingy, and my Mom would be greasing and flouring all of the available pans. And the house would smell like heaven for a month or so, because this stuff is ridiculous and there is always just so much zucchini to use.

So today, I’m making my own house smell like heaven. I’m also making zucchini bread. Hahahahahaha yes, I sneaked a little fart joke in there. See that?

Anyway, it’s probably always going to make me a little sad to make zucchini bread because I’ll never get to make it with her again, but the zucchini I made this batch with came from my sister’s garden, and I tweaked Mom’s special recipe a little so my Dad will have a piece (it’s got way less sugar and he is all about that), so I think she’d be pleased. She was always so spontaneous with her cooking, changing things and making them better, and she always liked using homegrown vegetables, so it’s got all that going for it.

It’s not the same, but it’s still good. And now my house smells like my Mom’s. In more ways than one (got another one in...thanks for the sophisticated sense of humor, Dad).

 

Just So You Know

The following blog post she’ll never read is dedicated to an unnamed person who full-on tried to shame me for my mask-wearing stance. Enjoy.

Since the beginning of this pandemic (actually, since way before that), I haven’t had any time off. I have worked, in my office, just as much, if not more than, before.

I have stopped going to the store when I need things. Rather, we keep a list and take turns going shopping, every two weeks or even longer, if we can. I hope that it keeps amounts of people in the store down and helps those employees feel safer. I am not ordering everything online, either. I am trying to keep deliveries to a minimum and waiting a little longer for things when I can. Delivery people need to be safe, too.

I have lost 1/2 of my teaching income, due to people feeling uncomfortable with online lessons, which I completely understand. I want to keep them safe. I’ve had my hours at work cut by 30%, willingly, because I want everyone to keep their jobs and get a check.  Better for all of us to take a small cut than for a couple of people to have no check at all. Plus, I’ve set aside a portion of my remaining teaching income to help fellow artists stay solvent. The arts community is decimated, and I’m fortunate enough that I’ve had enough savings and a husband who’s been able to keep working, and I’m glad to chip in.

For those of you who say I’m “bitching” about people who say it’s their right to not wear a mask, you are absolutely correct. I am. Two years ago, I watched the most wonderful mother and wife in the world take her last breath, and I will never forget that minute. It plays in my head daily, and I will never stop grieving over her loss. If masks don’t really help, so be it, but if I can keep one person from having to watch their mother, father, husband or wife take their last breath way too soon because of a horrible disease, than I am OVERJOYED to wear that mask. I am a big fat lady who had a hysterectomy last year, so you know it’s hot and sweaty. I’m getting some delightful zit action, not to mention the fact that I do have asthma, so I know what breathing fun times are like. I will wear the damn mask around every single person who doesn’t live in my house, and I will exercise my constitutional right to free speech and continue my “bitching” about those who don’t.

I’m not trying to say I’m better; I’m trying to say that I’m putting my money where my mouth is, and I have every right to feel indignant about those who don’t care. This pandemic is not political. It’s a disease that will kill other people. Remember those things? Other people? Those death numbers are actual human beings. Every single one. I’m not saying there aren’t other things that kill people, but for crying out loud, why don’t we care? Good grief.

I don’t get angry very often. I get sad, I get indignant, I get anxious. But people putting me down and saying I’m just repeating some liberal agenda are making me extremely angry. I know that there are many good ideas out there, but I am entitled to my opinion, and I am practicing what I preach. A lot of us are. We care about others, and are trying, every single day, to make the world better. No one has the right to call us bad people or belittle us for caring.

That is all. Go, and be good this weekend. I love you.

So things are just getting less fun by the day and I can feel the anxiety and unhappiness everywhere and all I can think is that maybe if it bothered us a little more how our fellow human beings are treated, maybe things could get better.


Maybe if, when someone makes a racist, sexist, homophobic, or otherwise hateful comment, I need to be braver. Maybe I need to speak up and say, “Hey, that bothers me.” Because it does. It seems like a little thing, but it’s important. We don’t have to hate people because they’re different, and I’m allowed to speak up if something is hateful and offensive, and I feel like words are extremely powerful, especially out in public.

Maybe I need to look at companies I buy products from, and see if I agree with where they spend their money and how they treat their employees, and adjust my spending accordingly.

It matters to me.

Maybe I need to understand that we all have kindness in us, along with hatefulness, and I need to work harder to see the kindness through all the other things, because loving everybody means just that. Everybody. Even people I think are poop heads.

Because I don’t have to like someone to love them, but it’s imperative that I see and appreciate their intrinsic worth as a human being.

And, maybe I need to remember that because I was raised in a home where I never doubted for a minute that I was loved, and I live in a home now where I am loved, that gives me a hand up in the world. Maybe someone else needs a hand up, and that hand up needs to come from me.

Because I have the luxury of not being forced into this fight, because I happened to be born into racial and socioeconomic groups that are not under attack by others at this time, I need to choose to fight for my fellow human beings of every color, culture, gender, sexuality, and religion. Because, ultimately, our humanity has to supersede our differences, and we all need to learn to appreciate how beautiful our differences are. Guys, this rainbow of people we live around is incredible. We are all worth fighting for, and we are all worth loving. We don’t have to be best friends and hang out. We do have to be tolerant and kind. And learn some manners, too, while we’re at it.

So that’s my two cents. And I love you all. I will try to be better, I promise.

Today, I start training a new job sharer at my office. Amidst the COVID and other shenanigans. It’s going to be bonkers.

My first training task is to make sure she knows that she needs to cover her boobs, because there are boob starers in the vicinity, and they’re old and can’t/won’t stop. Not our bosses, by the way. That would be icky.

My second item is making sure she knows that if she piles up all of the dishes and leaves them for me on my days, I will notice, and I’ll do them, but it’ll make me sad. I’m not convincing with mad, so I have to try for the guilt angle.

Third on my list are all the crappy crap jobs other than dishes, like putting paper in the printers and staples in the staplers. It may not happen, but I have to try.

Finally, phones. Pushing buttons, answering before the second ring, if possible, and being polite. Write down those messages, and ask people to spell their names if you don’t know how.

And that is my plan for today.

Wow. Sounds really exciting. I almost want to train myself again, just so I can feel the thrill. Also, I am finally going to go back to my original schedule, so that may be part of the excitement. Woohoo. Masks up.

This whole COVID experience has made me think a lot about the lessons I learned in elementary school about rights and responsibilities. I am so thankful that my teachers went over and over with us the fact that we enjoy certain rights which are connected to certain responsibilities.

For instance, it’s my right to not wear a mask, but it’s my responsibility to make sure that my right to remain free-faced doesn’t impinge upon the rights of others to not be contaminated by my spit, which travels freely out of my mouth every time I speak, sneeze, cough, or even just breathe.

So I wear a damn mask in public places, and then I choose not to wear one in my home because I’m not having visitors. It’s that simple.

Because my right to comfort isn’t more important than my responsibility to care for my fellow human beings.

We went to Costco yesterday, and I would bet that at least 1/3 of my fellow shoppers were just enjoying themselves all mask-free and whatnot. Right alongside the rest of us, who were doing our best to protect our fellow humans, whether they cared enough about us to do the same or not.

The older masked folks were frantically staying to themselves, lurking on the edges, turning their heads every time they saw one of these unmasked freedom fighters. The checkers were also highly strung, as they have to encounter thousands of people per day, and every exposure could potentially kill them.

Yes, freedom warriors. You are insisting upon your freedom at the expense of every person with whom you come into contact. You are potentially infecting peoples’ grandparents, parents, children, and more. We do not wear our masks for us, we are wearing them for you.

So here we come into the truth of the situation: You’re just being rude. You’re not making a political statement. You’re making the statement that, to you, your rights are more important than others’ lives. You’ve decided that your right to comfort supersedes everyone else’s right to be safe and not assaulted by your potentially germy spit spray.

Nice. I hope that makes you feel really good about yourself.

This isn’t about politics, guys. It’s about manners, and a lack of them.

April has been tons of fun thus far. Sanitizing, handwashing, sending my husband to the grocery store every two weeks to look through the store and try to decide what won’t be there next time, so we should probably get two of that thing. You know, same as everyone else on the planet.

Also my eyes are on fire and my nose is runny, and I’m rashy and itchy because of all of the pollen and wind, so that’s neat, too.

I’ve always kind of hated April, but this one takes the cake.

Oh, and my job share person at work just officially quit, so now I get to figure out how to train a new person (if we can find one), or do all the work myself. I already pretty much was, so I’m voting for no new person until the quarantine is done. It’s just too much work to do all the work while training someone else, who will probably do no work, then only stay six months and then leave. That seems to be the pattern.

So, yes, April is officially the worst.

I’m sure everyone else is in this boat, though, so I can’t complain too much. Just a little.

Also I just finished the last of the coffee for the day, so boo.

That’s it.

I will leave you with a picture of my current hairstyle. I’m not even exaggerating. My hair straight up looks like that, except that I have lady sideburns, so they’re not all full and porkchoppy. Ouch.

So I'm on day two of wearing my mask to work. I work with people that should be legitimately scared to be here, but they have convinced themselves that it's essential for us to be here, so we are.

And I happen to be the only admin who's here, so that's neat, and everyone has been looking at me weird for two days. I'm totally wearing this thing for their protection, but all day yesterday, I was getting sighs and eye-rolls.

What, guys? You mind ME being uncomfortable so YOU don't get sick, just in case I might have this coronavirus business and be asymptomatic? Seriously?

Ugh.

Today's better. I think they may have gotten used to it. I actually had a coworker ask me if I could send him the pattern I used, because, if I do say so myself, my masks are pretty decent.

Yep, that's as far as I want to go. Decent. Oh, well.

At any rate, I hope that we can all play by the rules, just so everybody can be as safe as possible. Please stay home. Please don't expose any of my family members. Please.

Also, wear a mask so I feel less weird about it. And maybe old guy boss won't call me the Lone Ranger anymore, as I will no longer be lone. I might still range, though. We'll see.

Holy cow, it’s April.

I still haven’t gotten bored, but I still have to go into work, so that takes up time and stuff. I also have a mental to-do list that is basically never-ending, so there’s that. All in all, I project that boredom will occur in 2025.

So here’s my thought for today: Why is it so hard not to panic buy?

I had to go to the grocery store yesterday because we had no more dishwashing liquid, and I have a bunch of dishes that need handwashing. I make a list, do all the things, and as I’m going through the store and seeing all of the empty shelves, I start thinking, “Well, we have soup, but what if they run out and I can never get any more?” I consider buying twenty cans. I talk myself down and buy none, because we need none, and I’m being silly.

I get to the dish soap aisle. The panic buying has kicked in there, too. They don’t have my usual kind, but they have the same brand in a different scent, and there are two bottles left.

Mind you, it takes us about six months to go through one of these bottles. It’s really not something we use a ton of.

So I stand there, fighting with myself about buying two bottles. I remind myself that someone else might need that other bottle, and in six months, there will be more soap. And I stand there. And stand there.

I only got the one bottle, but it was a battle up in my brain.

At any rate, I made it through the store without any panic purchases. Pretty proud of that, but why was it so hard? Ugh. This is weird.

Also, the lady behind me in the checkout line had four huge cases of  Smirnoff Ice and the rest of her cart was filled with Doritos. You know quarantine at her house is going to be amazing.

Ah, viruses and whatnot. So fun, right?

So.....since my last post, there have been so many weird things going down that I can’t even think of them all. Lame. I’m still working, and my husband is at home, still recovering from his fun surgery,  but doing well.

Also we’re staying away from our families to keep from passing anything along. That part is pretty gross, but we are trying to be as cautious as possible, especially since we’ve been in and out of doctors’ offices and I work with a few people who think social distancing is a stupid idea and refuse not to get up in my face. Ew.

So I have armed myself with all the hand sanitizer, a spray bottle of alcohol, mass quantities of soap, and a tankard of coffee. Also water, but the coffee is more exciting and it’s hot, so I feel like it may kill some germs or something in my mouth.

Let me have my dream.

At any rate, this is so hard; it’s hard for everyone, and we have to keep that in mind. We’re ALL struggling. We’re ALL scared. We ALL miss seeing our people. But this is, for many of us, the first time in our lives when we can’t control the outcome aggressively, unless we’re passive. Stay home. Keep your distance. Wash your damn hands.

Clean a room every day, if you’re stuck at home. Organize a cupboard. Do one productive thing. Learn a sentence in another language. Watch one documentary or history show instead of  comfort
TV. Get out a cookbook and try a new recipe with some of the food you have on hand, if you can’t find stuff at the store.

Maybe we can get through this and be even better humans. Maybe we can learn about real healthiness and truly important things we should be prioritizing, rather than superfluous crap that only serves to make us angrier and less helpful. Maybe we can stop being babies and leaning so hard on other people, instead of trying to find out what we can do to help people who can’t help themselves. Maybe we can change the way we consume and try to support our small business and local manufacturers, rather than just buying a “cheap” product that was made by an underpaid and ill-treated workforce that doesn’t benefit from our purchase at all. Maybe we can insist upon ethical production, even if it means not buying exactly what we want exactly when we want it.

Let’s all just try. I’m going to keep trying to try, myself. I think that’s the best I can do, right now. Well, that, and staying home when I’m able to. Thankfully we’re limiting clients at the office, so I’m able to keep everything pretty sanitary. But that’s about the best I can do.

I’ll keep it up. You all keep it up, too. And if you don’t agree with what I think, that’s okay. You do your thing, too. Let’s all just agree to love each other and be kind.

From a distance.

Because germs.

So this is my February/March combo post: Oh my goodness ladies are crazy.

Seriously.

I’m in the waiting room at the hospital, trying to quietly freak out with some dignity while my husband has a minor, routine joint cleanout, and there are some ladies behind me seriously testing the whole “quiet dignity” part of my day.

Okay, maybe I’m not that dignified anyway, but if I’m in here much longer, I might actually be tempted to say something.

They’re talking about how much they wish they had a serious illness so they could lose some weight. For reals. And then, when I turned around to “look at the clock” (because I’m super sneaky like that), I realized they weren’t two teenagers or someone extremely overweight, or someone who maybe is really suffering because of weight.

Both in their 50s, both a size six or so.

Right?

You’d rather make your family worry, and spend thousands and thousands of dollars to maybe be a size or two smaller?

Wow.

Is fat that bad? Are we all so afraid of having a little extra padding that it’s become the worse thing in the world? I mean, this is not the question of extra weight and health, this is just some ladies wanting to squeeze into a size two and being willing to “get some of that coronavirus, just for like a week or two” to do so.

Sometimes I enjoy being able to hear other people talking, but this is not one of those times.

Ugh, you two. Just, ugh.

Happy fricking Friday.

Yep, January’s almost over, and there’s been nothing interesting happening.

Wait, yes, at the beginning of the month, I did a recital and sang a bunch of songs that I’ve been working on for forever, and like ten people came, so that was kind of disappointing, since I was trying to raise some money for a charity, but oh well.

I also started working a few hours a week doing transcriptions from home, and that’s pretty dang fun, I have to say, but it doesn’t pay very much, so I don’t spend too much time on it. It’s basically like a computer game where you try to guess what the mumbler in the back is saying and then someone grades you. I’m a dork. Don’t judge.

I also started taking a medication to try to stop the whole “waking up in the middle of the night with a raging migraine, needing to barf” issue that I’ve been having.  Meh. We’ll see. I now take enough pills every morning to qualify for membership in the really, really old people club. Sweet.

On the plus side, I Marie Kondoed (yep, that’s a verb) the crap out of my closet and now it’s all nice and spacious, I am picking out and learning new songs, which is always fun, and I’m killing it with my new Yedi pressure cooker thing, making all of the rice and beans and homemade yogurt and all of that. So there’s some decent fun things this month, too.

I think that’s it. Not too exciting, but enough crazy so I forgot to write any junk about anything until just now. Oops. Happy Wednesday!