Month: March 2021

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Themed Reads: Armchair Adventurers

Well, we have now passed an important, and unpleasant, anniversary: we’re more than a year into pandemic-altered life. COVID-19, of course, has been going on for well over a year already. But it was March 13 (a Friday, appropriately) that life flipped upside down for most of us. Kids were sent home from school and in many cases – including mine – are still learning virtually. Loved ones have been unable to hug one another, work lives are dramatically different, the incidentals of daily life have been completely altered. And travel has been off the table for a long time now.

I’ve written about this before – and I don’t want to seem insensible of my blessings. I am fortunate that everyone in my family is healthy, and my husband and I both have jobs that allow us to work from home, so we’re still employed. And we have the resources available to keep our kids home from school until we make the decision, as a family, that it is safe to send them back – knowing in the meantime that they are getting a high quality education from caring teachers over their little laptops. But there are big and little things that contribute to mental health, too. I miss studio classes at Radiance Yoga and barre3; browsing the shelves at the library; even going to the grocery store (I enjoy cooking, and I like browsing the produce displays and spice racks for inspiration). And I really miss travel. I miss taking in new scenes, tasting different foods, the exhilaration and adventure of the new and untried. Traveling has always been a part of my identity, and something that brought me joy and enriched my life – and we did none in 2020. Steve and I are planning a major bucket-list trip for early 2022, and will probably try to take a family trip over the summer, too. Until then, I’m left scratching the adventure travel itch with… what else? Books.

One of my favorite books of 2020 was Roald Dahl’s memoir, Going Solo. It’s actually the second part of a two-volume memoir, but totally works as a stand-alone. (I didn’t read the first volume, Boy. Reading about Dahl’s school years and the real-life horribles that inspired such characters as Miss Trunchbull or Augustus Gloop didn’t appeal.) Going Solo opens as a young Roald Dahl is departing England for Dar-es-Salaam and his very first job, with Shell Oil. He stays with Shell until World War II breaks out, then leaves his job to join the Royal Air Force. While the first half of the book, in which Dahl and his compatriots bump along rural African roads on calls for Shell, was my favorite (especially the opening chapter and the “Simba” chapter), there’s no shortage of adventure and travel throughout the book.

Another 2020 read, The Grand Tour: Around the World with the Queen of Mystery collects letters and photographs capturing Agatha Christie‘s publicity tour for the British Empire Exhibition in 1922. Christie had just published her first detective novel, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, and between a burgeoning writing career and a young daughter at home, she was worried that she’d never have the chance to travel again – or at least, not when she was young enough to enjoy it. So when her then-husband Archie Christie became attached to the British Empire Exhibition (he was in charge of finances – seems like a big job!) the couple was invited to take part in a world tour to promote the project. Christie jumped at the opportunity, which took her to South Africa, Australia and New Zealand, Hawaii, Canada, and more. The letters she sent home and the photographs she captured – compiled in a gorgeous hardcover edition by her grandson Mathew Prichard – make it clear: she had the time of her life. For bang-for-your-armchair-travel-buck, it’s hard to beat The Grand Tour.

Years ago – long before 2020, that miserable year – I read Eighty Days: Nellie Bly and Elizabeth Bisland’s History-Making Race Around the World, by Matthew Goodman. I should revisit it, because my memories of the book are hazy, although I do recall really enjoying it and finding the story captivating. Bly and Bisland – two intrepid journalists – both embark on a trip around the world, leaving on the same day but heading on different routes. The initial idea is to beat fictional Phileas Fogg, who embarked on a global circumnavigation in Jules Verne’s Around the World in Eighty Days – but the project soon turns into a race against each other. Would Bly come in under eighty days? Would Bisland? Who would finish first? I should definitely revisit this one, because I can’t even recall who “wins” the race; I do remember my impression being that having convinced their respective employers to let them off work and fund a round-the-world adventure tour, both women were winners in my book.

What books are scratching your travel itch right now?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (March 29, 2021)

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Morning, friends. How were your weekends? Ours was pretty decent, if I do say so myself. After working basically all of last weekend, followed by a stressful week, I felt like I was due a good couple of days off. And I got them – it was a good mix of family fun, book time, and productivity. On Saturday, we woke up to bluebird skies and 70 degrees, so an outdoor day was clearly called for. Started with a neighborhood walk, and then after lunch, a hiking double-header – first Rust Nature Preserve in Leesburg, followed by Beaverdam Reservoir in Ashburn. Y’all. I thought it would be too early in the season for paddling envy, but it seemed like everyone in NoVA had their kayaks and SUPs out on the reservoir. I was green, and itching to get my new SUP out on the water for a test paddle. Steve and I spent most of the hike debating when we can get our first kayak outing of the season in, too.

Sunday was basically opposite to Saturday in terms of weather – grey, rainy, and mucky. Perfect for getting things done around the house, which was needed since several weeks of long workdays had left the place looking worse for wear. I ran to the grocery store pickup and to Target (for wine and Easter basket materials, the essentials), then came home and tornadoed around the house. I cleaned out the fridge; organized the coffee cupboard; went through Nugget’s school materials and tossed a bunch of outdated handouts; did laundry; cleaned the living room and foyer areas; packed up winter clothes and accessories; and worked on a side project. Tiring, but satisfying.

Reading. Despite a busy and stressful workweek, I managed to get some quality reading time in. The days between Monday and Saturday were pretty much evenly divided between Ex Libris (Michiko Kakutani’s wonderful book of recommendations) and A Morbid Taste for Bones (first in a new-to-me murder mystery series starring a sleuthing medieval monk, Brother Cadfael). I loved both, and will definitely be continuing with Brother Cadfael. On Saturday night, I switched gears and went back to my own shelves – taking a break on the library stack for the moment – to pick up Mango and Mimosa, a wonderful memoir of an adventurously eccentric interwar childhood. Duchess St. Albans was my company on Sunday night, and excellent company she was.

Watching. It was a whole week of Narnia! We finished The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, worked our way through Prince Caspian over several nights, and are (as of press time on this post) half an hour from the end of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. We’re all loving it – some of us too much. Peanut has started leaving notes “from Her Majesty’s Secret Police” taped to the walls, and whenever a door is closed she bangs on it and shouts “Open up in the name of the Queen!” Someone needs to explain to her that the White Witch is not the hero.

Listening. Several hours of All Creatures Great and Small over the course of the week, and still loving it. My favorite parts are the sections featuring the tumultuous household of Jim, Siegfried and Tristan.

Making. Lots of work product, as usual. And progress toward a clean house! I have a few items left on my checklist, but overall it’s looking pretty good around here. Oh, and Nugget and I planted sunflower seeds this weekend, so hopefully I’ll soon be able to say I’ve made some seedlings.

Moving. Sigh. Just the hiking and walking, again. I can feel the lack of strength training – I always have more energy when I’m mixing up the workouts. Maybe next week? I know, that’s what I say every week. Blame pandemic working from home while supervising virtual kindergarten.

Blogging. Themed reads this week, and it’s another one for those of you with cabin fever. And then Friday will be April, which is National Poetry Month, so you know what that means – it’s e.e. cummings day!

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Loving. A couple of weeks ago, our little miniature backyard frog pond was a symphony of ribbits and croaks. Well – now we know why. Behold, a floppity jillion tadpoles! (Take my word for it: there were more than I could count, all clustered around the edges of the pond. I noticed them on Saturday when I tried to clean up some of the detritus that the kids have been dropping into the pond all winter – when I couldn’t get one of the sticks in the pond to shift (don’t worry, I was using another stick, not my hands) I realized why; it was surrounded by hundreds of green jelly frog eggs, and swimming all around the eggs – tadpoles! The kids and I spent a good hour sitting by the pond, staring mesmerized at the tadpoles. I can’t wait to watch this gang turn into frogs this summer.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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The Life Library: Anne of Green Gables, by L.M. Montgomery

I don’t remember how old I was, exactly, when I first met Anne Shirley – eight, maybe? – but I do remember exactly where I was: curled up in an armchair in the corner of my grandmother’s living room, with her flowing white drapes pooling on the floor behind my chair. I had always loved to read, for as long as I can remember, but was often resistant to Grandmother’s attempts to press books into my hands. Partly, this was because I wanted to play with the interesting knick-knacks in her house; partly it may have been her choices of books like Ben-Hur and Hiawatha, which didn’t interest me much.

Enter Anne. It was a sunny day, and I think I wanted to play outside. Grandmother handed me her copy of Anne of Green Gables, directed me to the armchair, and told me to read one chapter (or maybe two?) and then I could play. I stayed in the chair for hours.

As the years went on, even after acquiring my own copies of the Anne books, I always gravitated to Grandmother’s copy whenever I was at her house. It was this version:

And from that first experience, body in Grandmother’s armchair but spirit riding alongside Anne and Matthew through the White Way of Delight, obsession grew. It’s not a new story, is it? Bookish girl encounters Anne Shirley, acquires religious devotion to Maud, blazes through entire series and onward until all she has left is The Doctor’s Sweetheart.

Well-trodden footpath though it may be, Anne of Green Gables, and the L.M. Montgomery bibliography I powered through after that first encounter, gave me so many durable gifts. Anne is the childhood classic that has proven most enduring into my bookish adulthood. It was the first really beautifully written novel that I also found deeply engaging, and it has stood the test of time and held up to my adult tastes better than other classics I read around the same time – Heidi, for instance, or Hans Brinker or Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. L.M. Montgomery sparked my love for beautiful nature writing; a common complaint about Anne, Emily, and the lesser-known Montgomery works is too many sunsets, too many stars sparkling over snowfall, too many rapturous descriptions of gardens. I say, bring them all on – it’s a short step, not even a leap, from Maud’s nature writing to the really beautiful works being written today. And nature writing aside, Anne Shirley and Emily Starr and even Jane Stuart and Sara Stanley all pass the Bechdel test, and they showcase different types of families and profile loving and committed friendships and relationships. All of which explain why I still revisit them all regularly as an adult – and why my daughter is named after a Montgomery heroine.

When I was thirteen and a committed Anne-fan, I went to Prince Edward Island with my other grandmother. Grandmama and Grandpapa took my brother and me along on a bus trip from Boston to P.E.I. and back, with stops in Maine (for Acadia National Park and a lobster bake); Halifax, Nova Scotia; and New Brunswick.

There was plenty to love about that trip. I enjoyed it all, but the highlight was Green Gables: standing in “Anne’s bedroom” with the pretty “sprigged” wallpaper, dreaming up for myself what it would be like to wake up in that welcoming space and lean out the window to greet the day (and the Snow Queen). Close second, the uniquely beautiful P.E.I. nature; I could imagine Anne, Emily, Sara, and friends wandering these shores, the fragrances of lupine and salt mingling to create that special island magic.

On my life bookshelf, Anne of Green Gables has to take the first spot.

What is your most enduring childhood favorite?

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Virtual School 2021: How It Started, How It’s Going

You know what I realized? Back in September – or was it August? – I mulled over school choices during this weird pandemic year, and landed on the conclusion that (1) all of the options were equally bad but in different ways, and (2) the least-bad option for our family would be to elect the fully virtual track provided by our local public schools, and do some homeschool activities for extra enrichment. And that was the last I said about it, so it’s time for an update.

Tech support.

How it started: Back when we first decided on the option we were going to choose, Steve and I decided that instead of dividing up the day – as we did early in the pandemic, with me wrangling both kids in the morning and Steve taking over in the afternoon – we would divide up the kids. Neither one of them was interested in wearing headphones during class, so having them both in the same room together would have been unworkable. We decided that Steve would take primary responsibility for Peanut and I would have Nugget; the hope was that with only one kid to worry about, we’d both be able to juggle kid needs and work.

“I want to look handsome for the first day of school.”

How it’s going: It’s… going. Honestly, staring down the barrel of a full year of virtual school with no childcare was daunting. In some ways, it’s been easier than I expected; in other ways, it’s been so much harder.

  • Both kids have adapted to the technology as I had hoped they would, which does make it easier for Steve and me to work side-by-side with them during the days. At the same time, there are still a lot of technical issues – some on our end, some not – and we are interrupted multiple times a day to provide tech (and emotional) support to our respective charges, which makes it hard to get into a work flow. I often don’t get through my work to-do list during the day and have to make up time in the evenings – even now, in March.
  • I was very worried about Nugget’s experience – more so than Peanut’s, really. I suspected that once Peanut got used to the technology she would appreciate the flexibility and the time at home next to Daddy, and she has. But Nugget is such a social little dude – it’s overdone, I know, but my real concern was with his mental health in not getting the social interaction he was used to from junior kindergarten in Alexandria. He does consider the other kids in his class to be his “friends,” but it’s not the same.
  • The quality of the academics the kids are getting from the public school teachers has been outstanding. I know that experiences vary by district – we intentionally moved into one of the top school pyramids in one of the highest-rated school districts in our state, and we are reaping the benefits of that. I’ve chatted with moms in other local school districts and have heard some serious complaints about the instruction; one friend told me that her children are getting twenty minutes a day of YouTube videos and that’s it. I am really grateful to be where we are, because both of the kids are sponging up world-class instruction.
  • Related: their teachers are so different. Peanut’s teacher is quiet and serene, but has the gift of capturing and holding the entire class’s attention. Nugget’s teacher is the most energetic, chipper person I’ve ever seen on a screen: “HI KIDS! WELCOME TO KINDERGARTEN! SPARKLE PONY RAINBOW! HERE’S A MATH SONG FROM MR. JACK HARTMAN!”
  • I had a long conversation with Nugget’s teacher at the beginning of the second quarter, and what was most notable was that she picked up on certain of Nugget’s little personality traits – his joy in sharing facts he knows, his love of animals, his preference for non-fiction books – that his junior kindergarten teachers had commented upon last school year. I was relieved to see both that virtual school hadn’t really changed him or dragged him down, and that his teacher was attuned enough to her kiddos to discover these things about Nugget even through a screen. It made me feel better – like he was in a good place, where he is appreciated for the precious little person he is.
Literally moved his workstation one day to be closer to the birds.

What I have not done is any of those independent enrichment activities I so ambitiously planned for the year. The nature journals and Wild Math curricula I bought the kids are gathering dust. But to be honest, we haven’t needed them. The kids are happy to read their books – Nugget, much like his sister before him, had a literacy explosion this year – and run around in the backyard with the neighbor kid. They’re heartily sick of each other, but they haven’t burned the house down or gotten themselves expelled.

Cutest, neediest officemate I have ever had.

Work has been… interesting. I’m privileged in that I have the ability to work from home and coworkers who are unfailingly supportive and understanding, even when my kids interrupt conference calls or stick their little faces into a Zoom meeting. That said, working next to a kindergartener, even with all the technology and support in the world, is – well, it’s not impossible, but it’s far from easy. Every few minutes I have to jump up from my computer to track down scissors or glue, find a worksheet, fix a Google Classroom issue (usually Nugget opening the same meeting in three screens simultaneously), fill a water bottle, or track down a missing kid after a screen break. It’s incredibly difficult to get into a flow and actually focus on work, and even when I have five uninterrupted minutes to work, I’m so mentally and physically exhausted that I find it hard to concentrate. (Somehow I’m managing – I posted 200 hours above my firm’s requirement in 2020 and got a universally glowing performance review, so I must be doing something right – but it’s at the expense of… something, not quite sure what.) I miss my standing desk, my double monitors, my quiet office, my friendly colleagues – and the sushi place down the street from my building. When September rolls around and the kids are (hopefully, please Athena) back at school, I don’t know if I’ll go back to five days a week in the office, but I’ll be really glad to get back.

Papers, papers everywhere.

The other surprising challenge – I have been honestly taken aback by just how stressed out I have been by the constant mess around the kids’ workstations. (Especially Nugget’s, because I spend more time there.) I am a naturally tidy person and I prefer to work in a very neat space, but I thought that after almost nine years of parenting, I had gotten sort of used to living in a mess (never liking it, though). But the mess has gotten me down much more than I expected it to. I feel calmer and more capable of facilitating remote learning and everything that goes with it when Nugget’s learning space (and my workspace right next to him) are clean, there are no dust bunnies under the dining room table, and all of the papers have a home and are actually in their home. Recently, I started making a point of tidying up his desk on Friday afternoons after he is released for the weekend, and on Sunday evening before the week (because he often hops into the reading software, plays with the toys in his break basket, or uses his school supplies for art projects over the weekend) – and that has helped, but I think I need to amp it up and get into a routine of cleaning the desk up every day. It’s just out of my peripheral view when I sit on the living room couch to read at night, and it’s a distraction.

We’re sliding downhill toward the end of the year now. I’ve given up on the idea of homeschool activities or “enrichment” time (who was I kidding? also, why didn’t you guys tell me?) and I’m really looking forward to getting back to an in-person routine – although now I’m starting to worry about what that will look like. In the meantime, I am trying to be grateful for the world-class education the kids are getting over their screens, the caring teachers, and the fact that I have a job that supports me working from home during this time. But I’ll still be glad when it’s over.

If you have kids in school, are they in-person or virtual these days? How’s it going?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (March 22, 2021)

Yawwwwwwwn. G’morning. How were your weekends? Bit of a blah one over here, although the weather was spectacular. I ended up working for big chunks of both Saturday and Sunday – just one of those things. On Sunday I had to visit a client site, which is unusual but not unheard of for a weekend day, and on Saturday I was busily trying to make headway on a few other things. I don’t mind working on the weekends – especially when, as this weekend, I have things that I really need to get done. (Steve once had a job in which he often had to work weekends just because some unnamed person above him in the food chain would decide “I feel like I want people working this weekend” – and that, I never appreciated. Fortunately, that’s never been my experience.) What frustrated about this working weekend was that, as frantically as I hacked away at my stack of work, it didn’t shrink any and I’m still behind the eight ball this week. But at least I came home from my Sunday work to an adorable welcome home note in the driveway!

All the work I had didn’t leave much time for fun, but we did manage to get to Riverbend Regional Park for a Saturday morning hike, where we got a fabulous view of one of the nesting eagles and saw a wood duck! (Pictures to come as soon as I get them off my camera.) And on Sunday morning, in between bouts of work, I joined Steve and the kids for a ramble through the neighborhood park. No exciting wildlife sightings this time, although we’ve seen herons, bluebirds, hawks, and foxes there in the past. And somehow in the midst of all of this, I even managed to finish the book I was reading. So – not the best weekend, but could certainly have been worse.

Reading. Last week was a slow one in terms of books – not the fault of the books, but just a pile of work, it happens. Between several working evenings and a couple of long evening phone calls with different people, my reading time was curtailed and The Splendid and the Vile moved more slowly than it would have if I’d had more time and attention available to me. Don’t let that put you off the book, though! The fault was with the reader (or the reader’s schedule), not the book itself – it’s wonderful. I finally finished it up on Sunday evening and turned to another library book: Ex Libris: 100+ Books to Read and Reread, by retired NYT book critic Michiko Kakutani. I’m about a third of the way in as of press time on this post and really enjoying Kakutani’s thoughtful commentary on her recommendations, most of which I have not read yet. My TBR is taking a beating.

Watching. All over the place this week. A few episodes of The Crown – we’re going at a pace of one or two a week, trying to savor. A NatGeo miniseries called Kingdom of the White Wolf, which Steve chose and we all enjoyed. The first episode of Waffles and Mochi. I wanted to watch that because two adorable puppets learning to cook with Michelle Obama is what the world needs – the first episode was cute, but Steve wasn’t really into it, so the parents dropped off that one and the kids have continued to binge the series on their own time. And, finally, Nugget discovered The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe on Disney+ so obviously it had to happen. We’re still an hour from the end (it’s a long movie, fam) but we’ll finish it tonight, probably.

Listening. I started the week with podcasts – Another Mother Runner and The Mom Hour, specifically – but found myself craving an audiobook, so midweek I switched over to my newest Audible acquisition, All Creatures Great and Small. I have never read it before, but am loving it so far (about two hours into a 15-hour book).

Making. Piles of work product – that’s about it.

Moving. Oof. It was another one of those weeks in which work was just too busy, and between trying to keep my head above water in the “office” and parenting, I just didn’t make anything happen beyond those two hikes I mentioned above. All week I craved a long solo walk through the neighborhood, or a good head-clearing run, or some quality time in my little makeshift home gym – but mental gymnastics were the biggest workout I got. I have another busy week ahead of me, but I’m hoping to get at least some time to myself. Hope springs eternal.

Blogging. An update on virtual school for you on Wednesday, and the promised first post in my new “Life Library” series on Friday. Check in with me then!

Loving. This may have been completely obvious to everyone except for me – probably was, but do me a solid and don’t tell me if you already had this down. Recently I was re-reading this post by Miranda Mills, on evening routines to reduce stress. I read it back when she first wrote it, but something jumped out at me afresh this time – Miranda says that rather than waiting until she might be too tired, she does her nighttime skincare routine early in the evening, shortly after getting home from her (then) job. Y’all, this blew my mind. It literally never occurred to me (stupid, I know) to do my evening skincare routine any earlier than immediately before bed, and the result was that I almost never actually did it. I’ve mostly gotten away with this tendency to flake on myself, thanks to a combination of good skin genes and rarely wearing makeup (<–personal laziness). But as I’ve gotten older, I have been wanting to prioritize my skincare but was struggling to get into a routine. Miranda’s suggestion to get it out of the way early was completely earth-shattering and I decided to put it into practice and see what happened. So for the past few weeks, I have been doing my evening skincare routine right after I put the kids to bed, before I settle in for the night with my book. I don’t say this lightly, but – it’s been life-changing. My face looks brighter and healthier, and it’s been such a nice way to transition out of mom-and-employee mode and into self-care mode.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Introducing: The Life Library

Writing here about books (and travel, when it’s not a pandemic, and hiking, etc., but mostly books) I often find myself referencing readerly touchpoints – books that were formative and that are still important to me today. In general, these are classics – no surprise there – and many are either childhood favorites or some of the first “grown up” books I encountered. But not all; some are books that I came to more recently, but that have left a big impression.

So I thought it might be fun to curate my “life library” on here – not necessarily my desert island bookshelf, although there might be some overlap, but a list of the books that have made me the reader I am. I’m aiming for one post a month, more or less, but it might be more and it might be less. Basically, as the spirit moves me. First post coming next week, and it will not be a surprise to anyone.

What are the books in your life library?

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Reflections on One Year of Pandemic Shutdowns

So here we sit – a year into this thing. More than a year, if we want to be really technical about it, but I don’t think the first emanations of the virus back in December 2019 were on anyone’s radar around here. I saw the news stories in January, but brushed them off as one of those things that would probably never really materialize. Even as late as February, I just expected a nothingburger – and I remember being incredulous when a work colleague from another office, during meetings about a case we were working together, expressed her fear that schools would close down. “They can’t close schools,” I replied, shocked, “What would people do? They won’t, there’s no way.” Joke’s on me, because she was 100% right. (In that same conversation, she said she was sending her husband to Lowe’s for KN95 masks before they became hard to get. In case you’re wondering, yes, I do plan to run all future life decisions before this colleague.)

I’ve written a lot about quarantine life and this bizarre world we’re finding ourselves in, so I won’t get into details in this post. I just want to reflect more generally. But in case you want to revisit some past posts about our pandemic experience:

Since this whole miserable situation began (I refuse to say “the new normal” because I will not acknowledge that there is anything normal about this situation) I have struggled to maintain perspective. I don’t want to seem insensible of my particular blessings during this time. More than a year into social distancing, none of my immediate family members have contracted the virus (that we know of). Steve and I, the kids, my parents, Steve’s mom, and my brother and sister-in-law are all healthy. And my parents have received the vaccine! (Here’s hoping the rest of us will be getting it soon.) Steve and I both have jobs that allowed us to work from home indefinitely; in fact, Steve already worked from home, so nothing changed for him. We’ve both stayed employed throughout the crisis, and we’ve had the means to keep our kids home and safe as well. Starting in September of 2020, we have been in a world class public school district, and I am consistently impressed with the quality of the education both kiddos are getting over their school-issued laptops. So – things could be much, much worse.

Even with all of that perspective, I’ve been having a hard time being okay with the last year. (That’s an understatement, huh?) I’ve struggled with a lot of anger and frustration about the government’s handling of the pandemic from the beginning, and while I am glad that we finally have competent leadership in place and are moving toward the finish line of this miserable experience, it didn’t need to be this bad, and that is just infuriating. Can you imagine how much better, easier, faster this process would have been if the administration that was in place back in March 2020 had said, “Yes, this is bad. There’s a lot we don’t know, so our advice may change as we learn more – but for now, wear a mask, stay away from crowded places, stay home, stay strong. Things will be bumpy but we’ll get through it together. Listen to Dr. Fauci.” Maybe things would have actually improved by summer 2020, like we all thought they would.

Recently, I was chatting with a family friend about the tightrope balance of trying to maintain perspective while missing the experiences that enriched our lives. The friend shared that she was missing concerts and live theatre; those experiences, while – yes – luxuries, brought her immense joy. In response, I shared that I am missing travel. We’ve had multiple vacation plans cancelled in the past year, at various stages of the planning process – from early dreaming and scheming a Thanksgiving trip to my brother in Colorado, to a last-minute cancellation of our planned trip to Cape Cod (in itself a replacement vacation after our original plans – Lake Tahoe with the whole extended family – were scuttled). Steve and I both love to travel, and we have shared our joy in experiencing new places throughout our relationship. We’d tabled the most audacious travel plans in favor of staying close to home while we had babies and toddlers, but were just starting to think about some bigger trips and further destinations now that the kids are both in grade school – all of that has been back-burnered again. I’m stir-crazy.

In the end, I’ve decided to stop worrying about whether complaining that I can’t travel – or commiserating about a lost theatre season – makes me spoiled or out of touch. I can both recognize that others have it so much worse and I am comparatively blessed, and mourn the joys and life experiences that I have personally lost. I can feel gratitude for the ability to work from home and keep my kids in virtual school until my husband and I are comfortable sending them back in-person, and share honestly that I am bone-tired and completely overwhelmed. I can appreciate the flexibility that technology gives me to stay in touch with family and friends, and wish that I could actually hug them. All of these things can be true at the same time.

Some perspective, very valuable. But I do hope it ends soon.

How are you holding up, one year into pandemic life?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (March 15, 2021)

Good morning, all – how is your week looking? I have a busy one on the docket, as usual – or maybe even busier than usual; I’m not sure how I’m going to get it all done. I will, though, somehow I always do. In the meantime, looking back on a gorgeous bluebird weekend will get me through. It was Nugget’s birthday weekend, so he got to choose the activities (mostly), and the universe sent him the gift of glorious early spring weather. On Saturday, Nugget wanted an epic hike: to start at Riverbend, hike downriver all the way to the neighboring Great Falls Park, have a picnic, and then hike back. Considering we usually only make it halfway from Riverbend to Great Falls, this was ambitious indeed – but we did it! And then because he inherited my energy levels, no sooner had we returned home than he and I loaded up in the car again, drove to Arlington, and had a four hour-long outdoor playdate with his best bud, D, and D’s intrepid little sister.

Sunday was slightly less active. Both of the kids were fighting off something of a spring forward hangover, and nobody was interested in doing anything especially outlandish. I took the kids to the playground briefly, but we left because roving bands of (unmasked!) boys were stirring up trouble – really uncool, since the playground was Nugget’s one request for his birthday Sunday. I felt bad for the guy, but we weren’t going to hang around with a bunch of jerks looking to start fights and not even wearing masks. We spent the rest of the day knocking around the house. Nugget dug in the sandbox, I sat in the sun and read (and tried to fend off Sunday Scaries), Peanut scattered crocus petals all over the garden walk, and Steve played video games. The kids were zonked on Sunday night – I was, too. And now it’s off to the races…

Reading. Although the above makes it look like an ordinary, active reading week, last week was actually kind of slow on the book front. I spent most of the week over The House of Mirth, which was absolutely wonderful and which I loved – but which moved slowly through no fault of its own. Just one of those weeks. I finally finished it up on Sunday afternoon, and spent the rest of the afternoon and the early evening with Cheerful Weather for the Wedding, a Bloomsbury novella that takes place on March 5, so it was fun to pick it up in the same month if not the precise day. Finally, ended Sunday evening with The Splendid and the Vile – so excited! I’ve been wanting to read this one since it was announced, long before publication, but my place in the library queue was interrupted when I moved to a neighboring county and a new library system. It’s a tome, and I have a busy week ahead, so I’m guessing it will take me the full week to get through, but I already know I’m going to love it. I have adored everything I’ve read by Erik Larson (and am already planning a dive into the few backlist titles I’ve not yet picked up, in order to tide me over before his next book).

Watching. So much to report this week! Two episodes of The Crown – so, so gorgeously filmed. (But I agree with the Fug Girls – what the what, Peter Morgan, skipping Anne foiling her own kidnapping? Isn’t that the whole point of the 1970s?) The highlight of the week, though, was finally sitting down to watch disneynature: Penguin. OMG, y’all. It was hilarious, adorable, beautifully filmed – we all loved it, and have been walking around quoting it for days. “I just got beat up by a baby.” I could watch it every day.

Listening. More podcasts – the usual suspects, some Mom Hour, some Sorta Awesome, some Mother Runner Podcast. And music, while driving little Nugget to and from a playdate in Arlington; he prefers music to podcasts, fair enough. We listened to some New Pornographers (which I call “Carl Newman,” after the lead singer, when referring to the band in front of the kids) and some R.E.M.

Making. A lot of work product last week, and therefore a lot of deep breaths. Some tentative plans and some reshuffled plans. Salmon with tomatoes and capers, again. And most importantly, a birthday cake (funfetti, from a box, but it was good) for the little dude.

Moving. Hmmmm. Well, it was one of those “functional fitness” weeks, I guess. I did lots of moving, it just wasn’t very formal. Lots of walking and hiking, lots of cleaning and carrying children around. Not a lot of running or strength training.

Blogging. Reflections on one year since the COVID-19 shutdowns on Wednesday; not sure I really have anything new to say, but I suppose I’ll find out. And introducing a new project on Friday – check in with me then!

Loving. I mentioned this up above, but GUYS. I can’t recommend Penguin highly enough! We were trying to figure out what it is: is it documentary, is it fiction, what? It’s sort of a combination. The premise is that a disneynature film crew follows one year in the life of an Adelie penguin colony, through the experience of one particular penguin, Steve. You watch as Steve reunites with the colony, builds a nest (and defends his nest from rock-stealing neighbors), finds a lady penguin, raises chicks, and encounters orcas and leopard seals. Throughout the film, the narrator switches back and forth from describing the action in a very factual way, to giving Steve’s inner monologue, which is absolutely hilarious. “So peaceful,” Steve muses as deadly orcas surface right behind him. “I could build a tree fort!” he considers excitedly, contemplating parenthood. I won’t say more, because I don’t want to ruin it. Just this – go watch it!

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Library. Dawn. Cards. Drawn.

A thing happened.

After that whole accidental library card acquisition thing, I swore I wasn’t going to go crazy with the holds queue. Just a couple of holds at a time – I promised myself – and I’m really only going to put in for things that have long lines. I’m not ready to go back to near-exclusive library reading. My own shelves are still calling me! Yeah, yeah, yeah… clearly, it didn’t work out.

In my defense, I only added about eight books to the holds queue, and most of them (the Kakutani and the Ellis Peters excepted) did have long lines. And I am determined, determined I tell you, not to add any more holds until this bunch is cleaned out. And then only one at a time. I mean it this time.

So I guess I’ll be reading Ex Libris, A Morbid Taste for Bones, and The Splendid and the Vile in the next couple of weeks. Then back to my own shelves, really. The pile of Furrowed Middlebrow titles seems to keep growing. I don’t know how.

Why, WHY, am I powerless to resist the library holds system?

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Tales from the Exurbs, Vol. IV: Roadside Farm

Back in our city-dwelling days, in Old Town Alexandria, we were surrounded by restaurants and coffee shops; boutiques; wine bars. We could step out our back door and walk to the library, our favorite pizza joint, a waterfront park, and about six different playgrounds. The proximity to so many of our favorite places (and people!) was one of my favorite things about Old Town. But there were drawbacks as well, or we wouldn’t have moved to the exurbs – and don’t get me wrong, I love my new town and can’t wait to get immersed in the community life out here (as soon as the damn pandemic is over). When we moved, one of the things that I immediately noticed – and chuckled at – was the different surroundings. Instead of coffee shops and wine bars, we are surrounded by garden centers.

Driving out of our neighborhood, as soon as you get to the main road, there are about three garden centers in a two-block radius. If you’re willing to go a little farther, I can think of about six or seven more nearby. Since moving here, I’ve gotten to know a few of them. We’re renting our house, so I am not doing much to the outdoor space – as y’all know – but between bird feeders, houseplants, and my patio garden, I still find myself at my two favorite local indie garden centers about once or twice a month, and I have started to make note of their particular strengths. One has the best bird seed. The other has almost no bird seed, but a spectacular selection of houseplants, and good prices on outdoor planters.

I’ve taken Nugget to the garden center with the houseplants before (that’s why he now has a yew tree in his bedroom) but never to the other one. And every time I stopped by to grab another bag or two of Cole’s birdseed, I thought to myself that he’d love it. In the fall, there is a pumpkin patch with big inflatable slides and a bounce house; the rest of the year, randomly, there is a miniature farm right out front.

Because why not have pigs, chickens, goats, bunnies, and a couple of small cows just hanging out at the garden center? It’s the exurbs.

I finally got around to taking Nugget a few weeks ago. He loved it, just as I expected. We spent about forty-five minutes standing on the snowpack while he gave names to all of the animals. He even fearlessly stuck a hand inside the fence and petted this rooster, which I was not expecting him to do.

He named the largest pig “Mr. Big” and I would like a medal for holding it together. (Side note: which SATC lady are you? I’m a Charlotte.)

Mr. Big was grunting very noisily at the piglets. We have a connection, Mr. Big!

Our signal to go came when the rooster flew up onto the top rail of the fence (Nugget gasped: “I didn’t know he could do that!”) and started crowing loudly. Message received, fella.

We rolled on home after over an hour at the garden centers, and Nugget excitedly told Steve about the animals. “Where is there a farm near here?” Steve asked, confused. I gave him the intersection of two major roads about three minutes from our house. He was astonished, but – it’s the exurbs.

Have you ever gone out to buy birdseed and stumbled across a low key farm?