My Phase II

I’m tired from all that’s going on right now. (Fatigue is how fellow WP blogger Stephen Black put it.) So, I’m stopping along the way. I have come to a resting space on the side of my path and I’m going to sit here for a while. I’ll sit, rest and reflect.

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Image from needpix.com

 

My journey (and this blog) was supposed to be about exploring what the second half of life looks like. All was going well until the pandemic hit. In the five months since then I’ve been traveling in circles from fear to anxiety to boredom and back. While the country has largely reopened, I’ve been spinning in my own high risk Phase I. So, I’m going to stop. I’ve been so busy worrying about everything (including my sanity) that I haven’t thought to use my confinement to consider how substantially life is impacted by the coronavirus. I’m going to quiet myself and contemplate. It’ll be my Phase II. What better time to examine my motivations, convictions and intentions than now?

  • Am I seeing everything differently now than I did pre-pandemic; my community, my relationships, myself?
  • Is my fear of death from COVID-19 overblown because of the trauma I’ve experienced from losing dear ones to disease?
  • Does that fear run counter to my belief system?
  • Did I appreciate my pre-pandemic life by fully participating or was I mostly observing as I’m forced to do now?
  • Will I act more intentionally within our global community after this time of solitude, once a vaccine is developed and I move along again?
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Image by John Hain from Pixabay

I’ll sit here with these questions for a while. I don’t need immediate answers. It’s enough for me to ask and think about them. I’m grateful that I can! The effect to this blog will probably be less humor and some posts might be reflective fiction, poetry or entries from my gratitude journal. I’m hoping that sitting with challenging questions might provide some spiritual growth and maturity. I wonder what Phase III will look like.

 

See You Later…Maybe

You might be planning on heading out soon, ushered out by the reopening. Maybe you’ve already been out, enjoying the weather in parks or on a beach. I can’t join you. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m in a higher risk group. I’m of a certain age (I’ve already admitted it so no need to say it again) and I have very high blood pressure. My BMI says I’m at risk and should be ashamed of myself. Although I don’t now, I smoked for way longer than I should have. (“You smoked cigarettes, Kat?!” “Um, yeah, those too.”)

I can’t go out with the rest of you. I have to wait for a vaccine. I don’t judge or begrudge you your decision to go out but I’m hoping that I don’t become envious and resentful. I’m hoping that I don’t look out the window and see my neighbors gathering in the common area and decide to do something stupid. I’m hoping that I don’t become so angry at what’s going on in this crazy country that I go and join the protests. Covid-19 will kill me. I’m hoping that I’ll be able to entertain myself, by myself and maintain my mental health. We’ll see…In the meantime, here’s some of the things I’ve been up to since March 13, 2020.

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I put together my pandemic kit

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I’m keeping a pandemic journal to keep track of the endless days
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My roommate and I are growing vegetables
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Of course, lots and lots and lots of cooking
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Occasional distance visits with the grandbabies which are scary for a couple of reasons

I really don’t mind staying here. Over the years, I’ve squeezed every bit out of life possible including trips to national parks in the US and beautiful beaches all over the world. I haven’t missed much. I have a nice home and the resources for food to keep my BMI exactly where it is. So hopefully I’ll see you later.

What Am I Doing? No Idea

I don’t have any ideas.

Like a lot of folks, I’m sheltering in place (in the house 24/7). I’m in a vulnerable group, over 60 (yeah, I admit it) and have an underlying health issue. So, I have all this time on my hands. I thought I’d spend it thinking deep thoughts and writing through the difficult situation I referred to in my last post. I also thought I might finally finish the revisions of my novel. I was already retired before the quarantine so I can sit in my comfortable home every day without negative consequences like not being able to eat or pay bills. But I’m not thinking at all. I flit from writing, reading, cooking, housework, paperwork…but I can’t focus on anything because I’m not thinking. About the only thing I seem to be able to do consistently is eat.

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Had this delivered

From November (NaNoWriMo) through to February I kept track of how much I was writing, reading about writing and learning about writing. I’m not doing that now. I’m not in the moment with anything. When I’m not mindlessly moving from distraction to distraction, I stare out the window without thinking. I have the TV on with the sound muted. Ordinarily, I would walk in nature to center myself. I’d like to go for a walk but, nope, can’t think about doing that either. I’m too afraid of who I’ll meet along the way.

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My desk looks like the inside of my head

Fortunately, I’ve talked to friends and family who feel the same way and I realize that my inability to concentrate is due to fear and anxiety, as is theirs. And that realization makes me angry. The pandemic scares me more than the scammer did. Obviously, lots of us feel the same way. Almost all the bloggers I follow here on WP have posted about the coronavirus. So, I’m frightened, anxious AND angry. On top of everything is the fact that I said I wouldn’t blog about the coronavirus or its effects but here I am…because I can’t think about anything else. I have no idea what else to talk about.

Stay well and healthy everyone. My prayers are for you all and your families.

 

Minnie and Me

 

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Where were we?

Her name is Minnie. She’s twelve years old and we’ve been together since she rolled off the Toyota dealership showroom floor. I know every inch of her silver full-size body. I like to think the ease with which she handles is because she knows me.

She’s a twelve-year-old hybrid that still gets great gas mileage. She and I, just the two of us, have taken so many fuel-efficient round trips from DC to Boston and back that I could do it with my eyes closed. (Actually, that wouldn’t be a good idea.) Most times we leave at 4am so we miss rush hour traffic on both the Baltimore-Washington Parkway (too early) and the George Washington bridge (too late) and make it to New York City in three and a half hours. Flat. We get behind the fastest car on the New Jersey Turnpike, crank up the tunes and roll. We listen to The Allman Brothers Band’s “Blue Sky” to cruise to as the sun comes up. Then we do some reflecting to Santana’s “Song of the Wind” during the long straight stretches. We use the high energy of Tupac’s “California Love” and Beyonce’s version of “Before I Let Go” to get us through to the end. (There are lots of tunes in between.) I’m sure other drivers see my gray braids bouncing and my lips moving to the music as we fly down the highway at I-don’t-want-to-tell-you mph and think, “What is up with that old lady!” Whereas all I’m thinking is, “Get out of my way!” We get to Boston by lunchtime if we’re lucky on the Mass Pike. Sometimes we’re not so lucky. We did the trip in a blizzard one year. It took us ten and a half hours, but we made it.

Minnie has her issues. Her last name is McSqueaks because one of her sounds is an intermittent squeak that she refuses to let Keith at Franconia Service Center hear. She usually does it after we drive over any raised surface. I told my grandkids that it’s the way she talks to me. On the rare occasions when they hear it, they always squeal, “What’s she saying, Memu, what’s she saying!” Squealing and squeaking. I have the most interesting car rides.

Another of her sounds is the flapping noise under the bumper on the driver side when we go over sixty. That one is my fault. I used to hit things. A lot. I hit concrete wheel stops regularly. Consequently, the front of Minnie’s undercarriage resembles Swiss cheese. The flapping sound is the bit hanging down as it moves in the wind. I once hit my own moving van. That one cost me termination by my insurance company. It also cost me very expensive coverage with another. I was the DMV’s poster child for how not to drive. I haven’t had any accidents since moving to the DC area. (She looks around for wood to knock on.)

So, Minnie is, justifiably, showing signs of age, wear and tear. But then, so am I. I know the time will come soon for me to think about getting to know another car. It will feel a little like a betrayal, though. My husband bought Minnie for me after he was diagnosed with cancer. He wanted me to have a good reliable car that wouldn’t require much maintenance. Minnie is all of that. I’m grateful for his gift and I appreciate her. I don’t have to think too much about it because I can’t afford another car for at least another year. So, for now, it’s still Minnie and me, two old girls rollin’.

“One Of These Mornings You’re Gonna Rise Up Singing”*

I haven’t been writing much for the past two months for reasons I hope to blog about soon. Basically, life has gotten in the way. This is a post from a couple of years ago that still makes sense. I’m surprised by how consistent I am. I edited a little and the photos are new.

WE ARE RACING TOWARD SUMMER, AREN’T WE?

It’s feels to me, after such a long and difficult winter, that spring lasted no time at all. April seemed to go by in the blink of an eye and incredibly, we celebrated the unofficial start to summer last weekend with Memorial Day.

When I realized we were quickly coming to summer’s front door, I initially had an anxiety attack thinking of all the springtime activities and chores I haven’t yet gotten done. (As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a list maker.) But then I relaxed and allowed myself to think about the things I have enjoyed this spring, which is a much healthier exercise.

I was fortunate enough to watch the progression of buds to blooms to leaves on the trees and the pushing up of flowering plants from inside the ground to up  toward the sun.

I put the first of this year’s tomato plants and herbs into the garden. While planting the herbs, I held some aside to make some air fresheners, teas and lotions. I naturally have more energy come spring so I’ve been walking in the nature preserve to bird watch and I got to see goslings make their initial appearance at the pond’s edge.  Also, after talking about it ALL winter, I finally got to take the little people to the playground for a game of Hide ‘n Peek Seek. I engaged in each of those activities and enjoyed them completely in the moment as they happened. So if it seems that the springtime flew by, it is only in retrospect.

I hope you enjoyed your spring and that summer will be an equally wonderful set of precious moments for you. I hope you’ll find the recipes below useful. And lastly, I hope you had a great Memorial Day and thanks so much for reading.

*Lyric from “Summertime” by DuBose Heyward from Porgy and Bess

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Baking Soda Air Fresheners

Mason jars
Baking soda
Essential oils, I use lavender, rosemary or lemon
Dried herbs (optional)
Fill the jars to 3/4 with baking soda, leaving a little room on top. Add about 5 or more drops essential oils and stir. Sprinkle on top about a tablespoon of matching herbs to whichever oil you’ve used. (Some people punch holes in the jar lids and screw them on. I never bother, preferring to leave the jars topless.) Shake gently occasionally to reactivate the oils. The lingering aroma will be subtle but fabulously fragrant.

 

DIY Lotion

2 oz Shea Butter
2 oz Vitamin E oil
1 oz Jojoba oil
1 oz Lanolin
1/2 tsp essential oil
All of these measurements are approximate. I find its good to play with the proportions so you get just the right mixture for your skin type. Also, I cut the amount of Lanolin from the original recipe because I don’t care for the smell.

Traveling

So, I’ve been traveling this week. I’m in Boston right now where I lived for many years before moving to the DMV. I still have people here. This past week has been about celebrating birthdays, births and connecting with kin. Coming back to the place that was my home for so long but is no longer my home is challenging. There is a mixed bagful of memories here. Fortunately, after so many years, the memories evoked are more like my mind’s movies than pains in my heart. And I’ve gotta be real, the weather here is challenging too. It’s kinda cold. I’m not used to it anymore. It feels a little more like spring at home where there are buds on some trees. Not so much in Boston.

 

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Bare as they are, I still love “the triplets”.
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That’s snow. What?!

I’m grateful that I’ve been able to make a little space for writing and reading while still tending to the needs of my family. I can’t work on poetry submissions while I’m away but I can continue working on my new short story, “Perennially”. And I’ve been putting together my next blog post about some changes that come with the second half of life. Hopefully, that will come next week when I’m back home. At night when there are too many of us to all use the wifi, I practice reading as a writer which is wonderful. I borrowed Dr Apelles by David Treuer from the library before I left. It’s an engrossing work that covers territory I know little about which makes it even more interesting. As always, I’m reading my favorite WordPress bloggers.

I’m heading for home soon.  Until I get back, I’ll leave you with a few more photos from Boston.

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There is beauty.
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Had to have the New England clam “chowda”.
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Celebrating her made the trip!

Thanks for joining me on my journey.