For the first time possibly in our entire marriage, J and I went on a run (well, jog) in the neighborhood together yesterday. It made me happy and I liked getting to just chat with him. We saw all of these birds flying and swimming by the lake, and I snapped this picture to show to the kids, but now I like looking at it and just thinking about this happy moment that J and I had together.
When I was a teenager, my grandparents moved to Utah and they would have our families over for a Christmas chili party each year. Grandma told me once that they chose to serve chili because it would be easy to feed a large group of people. Grandpa would make the chili and Grandma would make plates of Christmas cookies to send home with each family. The cookies that I remember the most are the Peanut Butter Blossoms (with Hershey kisses) and M&M cookies with green and red candies.
I remember Grandma expressing how she wanted to find a way to celebrate with the families in the area, but they were also mindful that Christmas traditions had already been established before she and Grandpa moved to Utah, so this was an event that they hoped wouldn't "step on anyone's toes." But it wasn't difficult to incorporate this into our Christmas traditions at all: now I remember it being a memorable part of the Christmas holiday. The white elephant gift exchange that we held at the party was always memorable, too. There was one year that a Burl Ives CD was a hot ticket item that kept bouncing between the cousins.
I got a copy of my Grandpa's chili recipe from my aunt this week, and it is even written in Grandpa's own handwriting! Even if we don't have a Christmas chili party, I hope that this can become a fall tradition for my own family. We are having it over Halloween weekend this year, and it seems appropriate to eat it in October as a way to remember Grandpa's birthday month.
The kids are watching “Lord of the Rings” and in one scene the camera repeatedly cuts between close-up views of the characters’ faces as they conversed. Lucy said, “This is just like a Zoom where it goes from person to person!” I guess that's the kind of reaction you have when you are doing online school and use Zoom for a few hours a day!
One of the cutest things about Lucy's online school during this pandemic is that she comes down the stairs at 10:00 every day for her ten-minute break during Zoom. She's anxious to quickly get her snack and chat with her friends via Zoom before the break ends, so she quickly tip toes down the stairs and does this little tip-toe run to the pantry, gets her snack and whispers a decline to my suggestion for a drink of water ("No, I'm okay") and tip-toe runs back upstairs. I'm not sure why she tip toes, but I think it is supposed to encapsulate her urgency and maybe also her independence as she gets her snack?
J pointed out that she sometimes holds up her Z-Bar as she tip toes away, saying, "I'm gonna eat this..." So maybe she also tip toes so that she thinks she'll escape notice and get away with her sweet snack choice? I don't always let her have those chocolate and iced-oatmeal bars as a regular snack, but I have been pretty lax about it since school started. Nonetheless, she keeps tip toeing, and it is really charming.
Today didn't go as I thought it would, largely due to the strong winds that we experienced today. Not long after the kids started their Zoom sessions, the power went out. They had enough battery life on their devices to keep their computers on, but we had to turn my phone into a hot spot so that they could get back online. We set it up in the hall, so they could both get reception from their different bedrooms. I needed to work too, so I huddled on the floor in the hall to try and grade midterm exams. It was a silly and uncomfortable way to perform an already tedious task.
I didn't get too much work done in the early afternoon, either, since I was helping Lucy with her schoolwork. I planned to get more work done while Lucy was on her last Zoom call of the day (with the Hazelwood "specialists": the P.E instructors, music instructor, and librarian). But not long after her call started, Sam came running inside to tell me that a portion of our maple tree had blown down in the wind.
I've really loved this maple tree over the past few years; it grew really quickly in the years after we bought our house and has become a nice source of shade. It looks like part of the trunk has rotted, though, so I'm not sure if we will be able to keep it. We are lucky that the tree didn't fall down a few more inches to the south, or it would have hit our cars in the driveway.
And even though this day didn't go as planned, a lot of good things happened. I'm glad that it wasn't raining when the tree fell down, and I'm grateful that the cars weren't damaged. We also had a really fun end to the day, where the kids made up this contest to make the weirdest face and the weirdest dance. We all participated in the contest, including me and J. It was nice to send the kids to bed on such a high note, after we all had a few belly-laugh-until-you-cry episodes.
Tonight at dinner we began to compile a list of all of our favorite things that have happened as a result of the pandemic. These are the things we said thus far, and I'll add more to this list as they arise. I hope they an help us to keep a positive outlook about this pandemic, even as it wears on and things also seem hard:
Me:
J:
S:
L:
I've been listening to an audiobook of Northanger Abbey (read by Juliet Stevenson) lately. I haven't had much time to listen, apart from when I'm watering the flowers. But I hope that I'll get to listen more frequently, once I'm able to start running outside again. (There have been terrible wildfires in on the West Coast lately, and Seattle is covered in a thick blanket of smoke. The air quality fluctuates between the Unhealthy, Very Unhealthy, and Hazardous levels. We haven't really gone outside for several days, except to water flowers or get groceries. And it looks like the smoke will last for at least four more days. It's just one more crazy thing to add to the stress and craziness of the Covid-19 pandemic. This year has been unbelievable in terms of hardships and natural disasters.)
Anyhow, the audiobook is quite fun. Stevenson reads the text a little bit faster than I would have liked, but her inflections and delivery capture the silliness of Mrs. Allen and the wittiness of Mr. Tilney. I was so amused by this passage, that I listened to it several times. Mr. Tilney has been dancing with Catherine Morland at a ball, and he had this teasing exchange with her:
“I see what you think of me,” said he gravely — “I shall make but a poor figure in your journal tomorrow.”
“My journal!”
“Yes, I know exactly what you will say: Friday, went to the Lower Rooms; wore my sprigged muslin robe with blue trimmings — plain black shoes — appeared to much advantage; but was strangely harassed by a queer, half–witted man, who would make me dance with him, and distressed me by his nonsense.”
“Indeed I shall say no such thing.”
“Shall I tell you what you ought to say?”
“If you please.”
“I danced with a very agreeable young man, introduced by Mr. King; had a great deal of conversation with him — seems a most extraordinary genius — hope I may know more of him. That, madam, is what I wish you to say.”
“But, perhaps, I keep no journal.”
“Perhaps you are not sitting in this room, and I am not sitting by you. These are points in which a doubt is equally possible. Not keep a journal! How are your absent cousins to understand the tenour of your life in Bath without one? How are the civilities and compliments of every day to be related as they ought to be, unless noted down every evening in a journal? How are your various dresses to be remembered, and the particular state of your complexion, and curl of your hair to be described in all their diversities, without having constant recourse to a journal? My dear madam, I am not so ignorant of young ladies’ ways as you wish to believe me; it is this delightful habit of journaling which largely contributes to form the easy style of writing for which ladies are so generally celebrated. Everybody allows that the talent of writing agreeable letters is peculiarly female. Nature may have done something, but I am sure it must be essentially assisted by the practice of keeping a journal" (Northanger Abbey, Chapter 3)
As someone who likes to write in a journal (and blog!), I was amused to think about trivialities of journal writing. I'm sure many of the things that I write down are trivial, and really only important to me. Sometimes I don't even know why I write things down, other than that I want to think about them further in that particular moment as I write. I don't anticipate "constant recourse to a journal" and re-reading my entries at some point, although I do go back to read previous entries occasionally. But I don't really think about chronicling things for personal future amusement and recollection. (At least not in my personal journal. I do put things in my art history blog to have as for future reference.) And I'm not sure if I want others to read my journal in the future. Maybe? Or maybe only some entries that my kids would find meaningful? I'm not sure how much to share or what is worth sharing.
The exchange in the book continues on to think about females and writing, with Mr. Tilney's observation that both men and women can excel in writing, singing, and drawing. He says, "In every power of which taste is the foundation, excellence is pretty fairly divided between the sexes." It seems clear to me that Jane Austen is expressing her own opinion here, and not just Mr. Tilney's!
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