Author: Jaclyn

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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?

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It’s Monday! What Are You Reading? (March 8, 2021)

Mornin’ friends. How goes your Monday so far? I know, it’s just getting started. We had a low-key weekend; it was nice. On Saturday, Steve thought it would be fun to do a hiking double-header of sorts. We drove out to Rust Nature Preserve for the first hike; it got off to an auspicious start when we saw a gorgeous fox out the car windows as we drove in. We had a lovely stroll through the nature preserve and ate a picnic lunch when we finished – the perks of living in Virginia; sitting down for an outdoor lunch (with parkas on, of course) is doable even in early March. And then we headed off to Beaverdam Reservoir for our second hike of the day… which was immediately scuttled when Nugget jumped off a boulder into a large puddle (despite being repeatedly warned off of said puddle) and got himself soaked from the waist down. We headed home and made up for it with a walk through the neighborhood park after we’d gotten him into dry clothes, but – sheesh. This is why I can’t have nice things.

Sunday was an even quieter day. We hit the trails again in the morning – just our local favorite, Riverbend Park – and then headed home to feed the kiddos lunch and have a FaceTime date with Grandma. After FaceTime I got the kids out of Steve’s hair for a few hours, taking them off to the playground. They ran around and played “escape artists” with a gaggle of other kids, and I sat on a bench in the sunlight and read my book. Headed home at 5:00 and slapped a quick breakfast-for-dinner on the table, then ended the weekend with a book, a candle, and an early bedtime. Not too shabby.

Reading. It’s been a good reading week! I spent most of last week completely engrossed in Vere Hodgson’s Blitz diary, Few Eggs and No Oranges. Totally fascinating and absorbing. Finished it up on Thursday (or Friday? can’t recall) and picked up Black Narcissus, a vaguely unsettling, atmospheric story of a convent of nuns that sets up shop in a mountaintop palace. It was both gorgeously written and quite eerie – and a good read for this time of year, since so much of the action takes place during Lent and around Easter. I finished it up on Sunday evening and immediately turned to The House of Mirth, which I’ve been meaning to read for so long. I love Edith Wharton and have been saving this one – but I have in my head that I might finally make it to The Mount, Wharton’s estate in Lenox, Massachusetts, this summer when I visit my parents, and I absolutely have to have read The House of Mirth before I do. I’m loving it so far, but it’s too soon to tell whether it will supplant The Age of Innocence as my favorite Wharton.

Watching. Well, we had a moment of parental indecision about what to watch for “family TV time” this week, and Nugget stepped into the breach and insisted on Alaska’s Grizzly Gauntlet on Disney+ NatGeo. It’s a beautifully shot show, and I am soaking in all the gorgeous footage of scenery and wildlife in Alaska, although I could do with less animal scat and half-eaten salmon. We have half an episode left and then the little dude will probably capitalize on the fact that it’s his birthday week to insist that we start over and watch the entire show again. Other than that – I did sneak in a few episodes of Miranda Mills’ BookTube – even on the “big TV” on Sunday morning when no one else was using it. (I wasn’t really in the mood for television at the time, but it’s so rare that I get the remote that I felt I had to take advantage of the opportunity.)

Listening. More podcasts this week, mostly The Mom Hour. Highlight of the week was the validating episode on getting through the rest of the school year – encouraging listeners not to worry about kids falling behind academically this year, host Sarah reassures: if your kids have food to eat, a safe place to sleep, and the security of love, you’re doing just fine.

Making. Ummmm… not sure I made anything last week, except for the standard work product. I guess – the beginnings of some plans? Steve and I started some very preliminary conversations about traveling to Europe with the kids, but that’s a few years away. 2023 is looking good? Hopefully COVID will be over, and the kids will be able to use booster seats in the car – making rentals easier. We have a big international trip, sans kiddos, coming up before then… but planning and dreaming is always fun.

Moving. It was a big week for foot traffic. Looking for sunshine and fresh air, I logged multiple runs and neighborhood walks, and the standard two hikes over the weekend. I need to get back in the habit of strength training regularly, so maybe that’s for this week.

Blogging. Just some silliness for you this week. More “tales from the exurbs” on Wednesday, and an update on library shenanigans on Friday. Check in with me then!

Loving. So, I told you I would report back on the hand cream I ordered from Beautycounter (it’s this one). Update: I love it. It’s as light and smooth – but effective – as the gift set I received from my friend Samantha, and the bright citrusy scent is delicious. At $30 it’s a little spendy, but the bottle is huge (for hand cream) so I’m expecting it to last a long time. It’s definitely helping with my scaly late-winter skin, and it doesn’t burn either. Go get you some.

Asking. What are you reading this week?

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Outdoor Report: February 2021

February was cold. We had back-to-back snowfalls; a couple of ice storms; and a lot of icy rain. Our house doesn’t get – or stay – especially warm, and I took to walking around with my hands curled around a steaming mug of tea a lot of the time, just to keep from chillblains. I tried squinting and pretending that I was living in a draughty Scottish castle, but it didn’t work.

As you can imagine, with all this cold, it was another indoor month. We did make a point of getting out and hitting the trails most weekend days, but hikes were truncated and we did miss a few because of yucky weather. Between the grim skies and the hibernating garden, I spent more time in my reading nook than in the fresh air. Really hoping that March, and the beginning of more consistently warm weather, will be the turning point.

Trail report. I read a beautiful quote earlier this month: “We cannot learn the story of the year if we read only eight or nine of its twelve chapters.” (Edward Step, 1930.) That was really our philosophy in February. We hit the trails in the mud and slush, and we slipped around our neighborhood park in the ice. Although we made a point of getting out, it was mostly to our local favorite – Riverbend Regional Park. Riverbend is a favorite for a reason, and we definitely enjoyed our rambles there. (Well, mostly. There was one very muddy day that I could have done without. Hiking in the mud isn’t my jam.) Hoping that March will bring more consistently hike-able weather, and that we’ll get to some trails a little further afield.

In the garden. So, I realized that I shared the above picture in my January recap, but it was actually snapped on February 1 – whoops! This is what the garden looked like for most of the month – although after a few warmer days and rains toward the end of the month, the snow is gone now. I have a big stack of garden books to read in the evenings ahead, and am still trying to figure out what I’m going to do about the big wild area. Now I am leaning toward planting some annuals. I don’t have much time left to make this decision!

At the feeders. (Another January picture – busted! But that view was pretty prevalent in February, too.) With great caution I will tell you that – so far, knock wood – my starling-repulsion techniques seem to be working. Between putting out food they don’t prefer in the feeders they can access, and their favorites in the starling-proof cage feeder, I have seen very few of them. They stop by now and then to see if I have let down my guard, but they leave right away. And even better news is: surprisingly, the Eastern bluebirds are able to get into the starling-proof cage feeder, so they’re still around! I had thought they would be locked out of the good stuff, but they surprised me. I’m so glad that my war on starlings didn’t have the collateral effect of driving away the bluebirds. They’re so lovely.

1000 hours outside. Oof. So, another largely indoor month. I guess that’s to be expected in pandemic winter. It’s funny – I love winter sports, skiing, ice skating, snowshoeing – and every year I say this is going to be the year I get the family into something new, but it never really happens. I didn’t even try this year, so that explains why – only 10.5 outdoor hours in February. And it would have been even less were it not for a 3.5 hour outdoor playdate last weekend. I’m still holding out the hope, or expectation really, that outdoor time will go way up once the weather starts warming up and we spend more time in the yard, on the playground, and on the trails and the water.

How was your outdoor February?

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Reading Round-Up: February, 2021

Reading is my oldest and favorite hobby. I literally can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love to curl up with a good book. Here are my reads for February, 2021.

My Family and Other Animals, by Gerald Durrell – What a way to begin a winter month! With back-to-back snowfalls, I wanted to read about someplace warm, and Corfu sounded lovely. It was. Durrell’s classic (loosely factual) memoir of five years he spent with his mother and siblings on the Greek island was absolutely hilarious. His writing about the folk and fauna of Corfu was wonderful, but obviously I most enjoyed the hysterically funny scenes featuring his family and their reactions to the never-ending stream of wildlife “Gerry” brought into the house. Poor, poor Mother.

Song of Solomon, by Toni Morrison – To celebrate Black History Month, I finally ticked off a long-standing TBR entry and read Song of Solomon. As expected, it was absolutely mesmerizing. The story of an affluent Black family in mid-twentieth-century Michigan, it packed healthy doses of magical realism and lots of wisdom – I can’t recommend it highly enough. Fully reviewed here.

Winter: An Anthology for the Changing Seasons, ed. Melissa Harrison – I have had my eye on Harrison’s collection of seasonal anthologies for months now, and it was time to dive in. Winter is actually the fourth in the series, which I didn’t realize until I had already started it, but you don’t have to read them in any particular order. In Winter, Harrison collects contemporary and historical nature writing, poems, and literary excerpts about the season. They were all wonderful, but it will not surprise you to know that my favorites were the (many!) essays about birds. Also: it may be my fourth favorite season, but when it comes to books I am eagerly anticipating Spring.

Crossed Skis: An Alpine Mystery, by Carol Carnac – A mystery taking place on the ski slopes seemed like a perfect choice for a stretch of wintry weather, and it was. In London, a house burns on a grim and gloomy January day. Inside is a corpse – but police investigation reveals that the victim was killed before the fire. There are a few clues on scene, and one points to the involvement of a skier. A world away, a party of friends and acquaintances is enjoying the bright sun and sparkling snow of the Austrian Alps – but one of the party is not who they claim to be. The action bounces back and forth between the police investigation in London (which caught just a few too many lucky breaks, my only complaint) and the growing unease among the skiing party in Austria. Such good fun, and one I will revisit again and again.

Me and White Supremacy, by Layla Saad – I added this book to my Kindle back in summer of 2020 and have been meaning to get to it ever since. Overall, I found it disappointing. The tone was extremely confrontational, which I think could certainly be warranted, but needs to be combined with useful information; this was not. Each “day” (the book is intended to be a 28-day workbook with journaling prompts) begins by reviewing a concept such as white privilege, white supremacy, white feminism, etc. – all important concepts that should be examined in detail and with honesty and directness. Unfortunately, the examination sticks to the very high-level and never goes beneath the surface. I was expecting more research-supported discussion of government-supported and economic injustice, along with concrete examples of how that injustice can be dismantled. There are plenty of well-researched and useful long-form articles and infographics out there for the finding on subjects like the direct connection between slavery and the so-called “War on Drugs,” or the systematic discrimination in finance and real estate that has led to a growing wealth gap between white and Black families – I know those articles and infographics exist, because I have found and read many of them. I think this book would have been much more helpful if some of those concrete subjects were examined, but they weren’t. Still worth keeping the book around, if for the bibliography and suggested reading list alone. But I don’t think I’ll be revisiting the main body of the book – I plan to check out Ibram X. Kendi’s How to be an Anti-Racist instead, which I hear is better.

The Diary of a Nobody, by George and Weedon Grossmith – What took me so long to get to this slim little book? Charles Pooter is a mid-level clerk in Victorian London. When Pooter and his wife, “dear Carrie,” move into a rowhouse in the suburb of Holloway, the clerk begins to keep a diary – mistakenly assuming that every tiny detail in his life is (1) worth recording and (2) of interest to future generations and the book-buying public. The result is hilarious. Between the antics of Pooter’s friends – the vulgar Gowing and the bicycle-mad Cummings – his sarcastic ne’er-do-well son Lupin, and the inscrutable Carrie, I laughed at least once on every page. (I loved Cummings, who regularly goes missing for a week or two, then turns up furious that he has been bedridden and none of his friends noticed; his response when they point out that they didn’t know is always, “It was in the Bicycle News.” And Carrie! You can never really tell whether she finds Pooter’s jokes funny, and I love that.) Only complaint: way too short.

Betsy-Tacy and Tib (Betsy-Tacy #2), by Maud Hart Lovelace – A re-read for me, and a read-aloud for me and Peanut. We’ve been gradually working our way through the Betsy-Tacy books and wrapped this one up this month. Just as good as I remembered, and Peanut loved it. It’s been such fun to start introducing her to classic literature – and I think the Betsy-Tacy series is a little more approachable than Anne of Green Gables, even though L.M. Montgomery will always have my heart.

Moby-Dick, by Herman Melville – Read for the Classics Club, and I really didn’t care for it. Although there were flashes of brilliance, most of this doorstopper of a tome was devoted to toggling back and forth between long, dull descriptions of everything you never needed to know about the whaling industry, interspersed with gory cetacean murder scenes. No, thank you. Fully reviewed here.

That Can Be Arranged: A Muslim Love Story, by Huda Fahmy – A graphic novel-style memoir of the author’s meeting, falling in love with, and marrying her husband, this was a quick read and a pure delight. Fahmy opens her memoir by paraphrasing Jane Austen, so you know it’s going to be good. I laughed out loud on just about every page (the cat hotel! so good) and loved every moment. My only complaint: it was too short; I could have read hundreds more pages. I’m definitely going to seek out her other work, and soon.

A Winter Away, by Elizabeth Fair – I have heard such wonderful things about this novel of a collection of misfits, and their various misunderstandings, in a Dorsetshire village in the post-World War II years, and it absolutely lived up to the hype. Young Maud Ansdell has moved in with her elderly cousin and taken a job as secretary to the irascible local squire, “Old M.” Feniston. Maud is intimidated at first, but she soon finds herself growing fond of old M., and of his owlish son Oliver and estranged nephew Charles. As Maud clumsily navigates the village gossip and intrigues, the reader is entranced by marvelous scene-setting and humor on every page. I adored it, and I can’t wait to read more Elizabeth Fair.

The Woods in Winter, by Stella Gibbons – Another Furrowed Middlebrow title, the last novel Stella Gibbons wrote for publication follows thrice-widowed Ivy Gover from her attic flat in London to a cottage in the countryside. When Ivy first receives a solicitor’s letter explaining that her great-uncle has left her a life estate in his country cottage, she thinks it might be a “take-in.” But it’s not, and soon Ivy – curmudgeonly, solitary, preferring animals to people – is settled in the country, where she encounters everyone from the local Lord to a twelve-year-old runaway. There were moments of humor, but this isn’t an especially funny book. I enjoyed it, but it did suffer in comparison to being read immediately after A Winter Away.

A Gardener’s Year, by Karel Capek – I’ve had my eye on the Modern Library Gardening series for years now, but this slim volume was the first I have actually picked up. I loved it. Between the beautiful writing and the charming line drawings (by the author’s brother) it was a delightful way to spend an evening. The end is poignant – the author reflects on the many years it takes a tree to grow, and expresses a hope that he will see one of his plantings fifty years hence; in fact, he only lived nine years after writing this lovely book, dying at the young age of 48 of a combination of bronchial infection and broken heart after the Nazis were permitted to annex the Sudetenland of his beloved Czechoslovakia.

Terms and Conditions: Life in Girls’ Boarding Schools, 1939-1979, by Ysenda Maxtone Graham – I’ve been meaning to get to this one for years now, especially after reading and enjoying Graham’s Mr Tibbets’s Catholic School. Terms and Conditions lived up to its predecessor, and to all the hype that surrounded it (at least in one little corner of the bookish world) when it first came out. I am not a boarding school “Old Girl” myself, but I still found the book fascinating – rather than relatable, for me it was a glimpse into a completely different world, and I loved it. Funny, too, in that dry British witty way. A definite winner, and one I’ll re-read.

Pigeon Pie, by Nancy Mitford – One of Nancy Mitford’s earliest books, this little volume – barely out of novella category – is a romp. Lady Sophia Garfield has “clear” ideas about what will happen when World War II begins. She pictures herself stumbling through the rubble, searching for “her husband, her lover, and her dog” the moment war is declared. Lady Sophia’s active imagination also casts her as a beautiful spy, but with her rather dull wits, she fails to notice “a nest of German spies” right under her nose until it’s almost too late. Definitely not up to the standard of Mitford’s later works, like her masterpieces The Pursuit of Love and Love in a Cold Climate, but still a fun way to spend an evening.

Well! After a slow January, I guess I more than made up for lost time in February. Fourteen books in twenty-eight days is a fast pace, even for me – and while some were quite short, the work of one evening, Moby-Dick was in there, too. As for highlights, there were several. I had such fun with winter-themed reading this past month, especially Melissa Harrison’s anthology, Carol Carnac’s Alpine whodunit, and of course Elizabeth Fair – a new discovery that brought me such delight. Terms and Conditions was another highlight of the month, and now I can’t wait to read the final Graham currently on my shelves – The Real Mrs Miniver – and to order her newest, British Summer Time Begins, which I am saving for warmer weather, naturally. I’m still having such fun reading through my own shelves, and I’ve got my eye on a few gardeny reads for March and April.

How was your February in books?