Where Have the Months Gone? A Pandemic Review

For awhile since self isolation,  I'd wake up in the morning with the title and melody from a Carpenters' song, "It's Yesterday Once More" swimming in my head. Although the song has nothing to do with our current situation, it does contain a poignant verse which spoke to me.

"Lookin' back on how it was in years gone by
And the good times that I had
Makes today seem rather sad, so much has changed"

I miss my friends, my trips, certain group activities, shopping, my appointments (yes even those), and mostly, my freedom. I suppose it is affecting me more since I am now considered "older", "senior", and "high risk group", during this time of covid-19 pandemic. The problem is that with age, there's also a certain element of urgency to get on with life, and to do all those things we always wanted to do while it's still possible. This isolation is severely impacting the time I have left to complete those activities.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not playing the world's tiniest violin here. I understand how fortunate I am. I know there are all kinds of horrific issues in the world, and there are people who were suffering prior to this, and even more so now as a result of this pandemic. The loss of jobs, the homelessness, the poverty, the hunger, the death toll, has escalated everywhere. I too have family members who are impacted.

Nonetheless, I'm no longer young enough to recoup this time, or to consider it as just a blip in my life.

On the bright side, there are things I've accomplished during my stay at home time. I'm trying hard not to think of them as "make work projects", since that would depress me. So, in an effort to make the best of my "captivity" as it were, here are some of my escapades and accomplishments over the last couple of months. This summary, is not meant to sound boastful. I have not found ways to save the world. It is rather an attempt to remind myself that I have managed to use some of the time to a good end.

It all started with new and inventive ways of cooking with food finds early on, while we were unable to shop. I've completed several blogs about that including  "Covid Cooking" 5/21/20 .

The cooking, then got interspersed with the dreaded housework, "Fanatical Tidying, Organizing, or Not! " 5/15/20, and as the weather improved,  gardening, "Pandemic Planting" 5/16/20.

For awhile, when we thought the pandemic would be short lived, we had special celebratory days. I decorated, we dressed up in costumes, and it was fun. Eventually, my poor hubby got tired of my silliness and I got sick of all the work involved, so we've put everything on a hiatus. It's only temporary, so shhhhh...don't tell.

First we celebrated the Blue Jays no home opener day this year.  We wore our fan gear and ate hot dogs, fries, and other ballpark delicacies.  Next came Maritime fish Fryday...self explanatory, but who knew I had an Anne of Green Gables outfit and would dress hubby as a fisherman in his yellow slicker?

German Day was a celebration of our heritage, complete with schnitzel, sauerkraut, spaetzle, and beer. Medieval Times was a lot of work. We wore elaborate costumes and wigs and performed feats of strength. Formal Friday was a suggestion by late night talk show host Jimmy Kimmel, even though I'd already thought of it. Then there was our Green Eggs and Ham party.  For Cinco de Mayo, which conveniently fell on Taco Tuesday, I made a papier mache pinata and sombrero.  Choice of food was obvious and simple.

Then,  after hearing everyone complaining about the length of their hair, it became time for a little haircutting fun.         

 Hobbies have managed to take on a new life. First, I painted a bookcase (details in blog "Now I Am An Old Purple Woman" 5/29/20).  The stool was an old rickety unpainted wreck. Now, it's an old rickety, weirdly painted wreck. I'll never be a Picasso, but I'm having fun. The easel has seen a few of my efforts.

I recently wallpapered the laundry room, practiced piano, and  reverse tie dyed a shirt (blog yet to come). I've also managed to make a dent in the pile of books I've been meaning to read.

Perhaps it's all been time well spent after all. At least that's what I'll tell myself.

There are countless jokes on the internet about the coronavirus, and this calendar year. There are comments about unused day planners, and those who say that 2020 doesn't count and we're really not a year older. I fear that I will be at least a year older before all this is over. 

After  I saw a rather humorous meme from Aunty Acid using the  movie "Groundhog Day", I now no longer hear the Carpenters' song "It's Yesterday Once More" in the morning.  Instead, I've started waking up to "I've Got You Babe".

Lots of No Time

You'd think that during pandemic isolation, there'd be lots of time to do things...like blogs. That's actually only partly true. I must admit that I am happy about a lot of things I've accomplished...special fun days which included dressing up and torturing my spouse; working on some hobbies (painting, reading, playing keyboard, writing); house cleaning...hiss boo, no excuse, and cooking...ugh. I'm becoming more efficient, and more inventive even though I dislike both of the latter tasks. Waste of time if you ask me. On the other hand, what else do I have to do?

As I previously mentioned, I have started no fewer, (yes the correct word, rarely used anymore is "fewer") than a dozen blogs and finished only two. At least I think I finished two. There's probably one that I stole from someone else, so perhaps three. As for writing, I've done a bit...messages/emails to friends. Perhaps I can incorporate these someplace. I certainly have a lot to say, and I definitely have plenty of opinions.

I think what happened is that my head is so full of "stuff", that I can't focus on the direction I want to go with any one of my blogs. Then, there are also occasional interruptions. I read somewhere that interruptions are the greatest suppressors to imagination and trains of thought. My train is easily derailed. I have the attention span of a gnat, and am fortunate to know this about myself.  I knew a writer once that wrote during the night, quiet, isolated. I suppose that's why some authors disappear into cabins in the woods. Or perhaps that's a myth and just how we perceive writers.

It's not just the blogs that are unfinished. I currently have a partially completed painting on my easel. It still needs some layers and shading. Not an original idea I might add. I saw it someplace on google and it appealed to me. The colours have been changed to protect the innocent or however the expression goes.

I have also been working on a small piece of unpainted furniture, trying to come up with some colour and design. I figured, if I don't wreck it, I can go on to bigger and better pieces.  Besides, I'm so immature that when my friends phone and ask what I'm doing, I can say, "I'm just painting my stool."

Then I cackle and laugh like some four year old repeating the words poopoo, peepee, and diarrhea, over and over, as they love to do.

Here's a picture of my stool before I started painting it. Ha,ha.                         

Well...that's about it for now. I'll try to recap some of my other adventures later. I have already shared them on Facebook, so I suppose that also contributes to my laziness in blogging about them.

Take care. Wash your hands. This too shall pass.

What Do You Do?

"What do you do?"  Strangely, those words changed the direction of my life. Let me explain.

In my late twenties, my late twenties, not "the" late twenties, I happened to meet an acquaintance in a grocery store. I hadn't seen this person for awhile. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and made small talk.
      
Then she asked me, "What do you do?" I was puzzled because I was fairly certain that she already knew the answer.

I automatically responded with, "I'm a teacher," as if this would justify my entire existence.

"No, I mean what do you do?" (emphasis on the word "do") She elaborated, "as in things that are personally fulfilling....hobbies, physical activities, volunteer work."

 I was taken aback and was briefly stumped. Didn't she realize that the statement "I'm a teacher" explained all that?  On the other hand, I felt compelled to come up with an alternate response.

I didn't want to confess to this person that, "I work late hours. I sleep until noon and hang around in pj's on weekends. I didn't think she'd be impressed with, "I go to the odd movie, eat out, and drink with friends." So, I blurted out my first thought. "I ski."

"Oh", she said and nodded. "Downhill, cross country or water?"

"Yes, I've done them all, but mostly downhill." I said. We chatted a bit more and she left. I was relieved. She didn't pursue the issue nor did she ask me to elaborate.

"Why had I said those things?" I wondered. I had never cross country skiied and had in fact water skiied only once. My downhill skiing career was far from illustrious and had been over for a number of years. There was the time on a hill at Chicopee when I was rescued after a painful fall only to be escorted down the hill, red faced and shivering. I was laced papoose-like onto a toboggan and escorted by half a dozen ski patrollers in flourescent vests. People stared and pointed at the unfortunate disaster victim. Then there was the occasion in Quebec when I decided to trudge down Mt. Ste Anne, carrying my skis and poles. In fairness, conditions were, in my opinion, very icy and hazardous. On another trip, I fell from quite a height off a chair lift directly onto my posterior. That experience had a colourful "end"ing. Then there were the times I held up troupes of skiers by skidding off the tracks off poma lifts and t-bars. I suppose I finally gave up skiing after my embarassing ride up a mountain in a gondola...and back down.

The question, "What do you do?" remained with me all day. It sat, Jiminy Cricket-like on my shoulder. It moved into my head for weeks. It wound itself through my thoughts for months. Then it took up residence.

I knew that I used to do a lot more in my teen years...community work, walking, skating, stitching, drama, music. I did plenty during my university career...choirs, clubs and aforementioned skiing.

But now? I was in my late 20's. Now what? Did my job really consume so much of my life that it became my only identity? I realized that in fact, I no longer did much of anything but work, sleep, socialize.

I wasted a lot of valuable time and I did not plan to do that for another minute. I wasn't going to be caught off guard if I was ever asked again, "What do you do?" I had to fit more into my daily schedule. I had to do more for myself and my community.

If I didn't sleep as late on weekends, if I worked a little less and loafed around a lot less, if I made time to "do" things, would I suffer? Would anyone be worse off? Absolutely not.

So, first, I became an auxiliary police officer...community service.

I walked to and from work with a friend. Sometimes, we played squash...exercise.

I painted and did a some crafts...hobbies. All the bases were covered. It's strange, but somehow, I even found time to take some upgrading university courses. The more I did, the more time I seemed to have and the more envigorated and successful I felt.

I have lived with the question, "What do you do?" ever since. It has helped guide me for the last thirty years. I have done more, learned more, and participated in more than I could have ever dreamed. I have taken risks...some successful and some not.

I suppose it concerns me when I see members of the younger generation doing nothing that in my opinion seems of great value. They party all night, they spend beautiful daylight hours sleeping, they sit around using computers, cell phones and other technology. Has nobody ever asked them, "How are you contributing to your well being and that of others? What do you do?"

I will always be grateful to a person who said those words to me. That little phrase caused me to re-evaluate my circumstance and change my course. It taught me to live differently. It helped me be an active participant in my life. It kept me from having regrets. It gave me adventure, sponteneity and satisfaction. It helped give my life meaning.

So now I'll ask you, "What do you do?"