Back To Bed

"Back to bed" is a phrase I think evokes the idea of giving up. That things are going so wrong there is no point in going on with the day and simply going back to bed would make more sense so one could reset and start over later. There's been a lot during pandemic days where time and purpose became battered to the point of feeling like we should all just go "back to bed."

But I never hear it that way. For me, there are few pleasures in life greater than getting to go back to bed.

When you think you have to get up, or you need do something very early, but then it turns out there's time to crawl back under the covers and steal a little more sleep before your day must begin. I love that.

I have trouble sleeping many nights, and it's usually not until morning that I find it easier to rest, which never seems fair when I have to get up to keep to some kind of schedule. An alarm going off and interrupting real sleep is an unpleasant way to start the day.

But between my children growing up, and the pandemic shutting everything down, I don't think I've set my alarm for the morning more than a couple of times in the past three years. Quinn doesn't need me before school unless her bus doesn't show. The pool where I swim only recently re-opened, but as long as I'm in it by 9:00 I can make it to work on time after swimming. (That's one of the perks of running your own business: Setting the hours. My parents' art gallery didn't open until 11:00 because they were not early-risers either, so my 10:30 start time almost seems ambitious.)

I am not wired to be up before 8:00. I can do it. I did it for decades while raising children and I kept my alarm set for hours that are always still dark, but it's painful. For me, it physically hurts to wake up too early. During the kids' elementary school years I wanted a snow day as much as they ever did. Because sometimes that meant going back to bed!

Back to bed is the best.

One of the things I really love about our new dog, Domino, is that she also likes to go back to bed. The first week we had her, I was concerned because she needed to get up very early for a walk, and then wanted to play in the living room when we got inside again. I started resigning myself to returning to a phase similar to when my kids were small and I would have to be someone who would get up and stay up, but no. After the dog was settled into her new home, she started sleeping in, and then when given the option after her first walk of crawling back under the covers? She jumps at it. Domino has a lot of energy, and when she's wound up she wants to bounce and prance and play, but almost any time that I can crawl back in bed, she'll happily join me. She burrows deep under the covers and snuggles up. It's perfect.

I admire people who can get up early and accomplish a lot before noon. But nobody ever accuses me of not doing enough things, so I don't lament not being an early bird. I do wish I had more opportunity to go back to bed on an average day, though. It's like an unexpected bonus, a surprise gift, a stolen stretch of dazed calm. It's a welcome time-out in a busy day. I've had a few chances to go back to bed over this winter break, and it's made the vacation that much better.

Looking back on 2022 this New Year's Eve, "back to bed" is a good summary to me. There were parts that were frustrating or disappointing because that's life, but overall? There were more unexpected bonuses and moments of joy than anyone deserves. I got to go to Venice with my mom. I got a new dog that loves me. I got to improve our house with a new deck. I got to spend time with my husband and kids. I got to make music. I got to put instruments I made in the hands of people who were excited to play them. I made new friends. I had time with family at the cottage. I put out an ABC book. My back problem appears to be gone. Stitch Fix finally sent me some decent concert clothes. I feel more calm.

The pandemic damaged my sense of time in that 2020 was a slow blur, 2021 was disjointed, but 2022 unfolded in a way that felt more welcome and familiar. Like going back to bed.

I'm looking forward to 2023. I hope you are, too.

Spring Catch Up Post 2022

Just taking a moment to jot down some of the interesting things going on before those memories are overwhelmed by all the new interesting things coming up.

Kid update: 

Quinn is doing fine and seems to be enjoying high school. He's at the end of a truly non-eventful spring break, but when I asked him how it's going, he said it's been boring and he's enjoying that very much.

Mona graduated from high school last semester and is almost done with a virtual semester at UWM. She hates it and will leave after finals. But I keep telling her watching assigned YouTube videos at our dining room table is NOT COLLEGE and she should not make any decisions about the value of higher education based on this experience. She was accepted into art school for the fall, but is unconvinced about going. In the meantime we have a lead on a brief internship this summer that could be valuable, and we're looking into possibilities for art careers that don't require school.

Aden, meanwhile, is finishing up her first year at UW Stout and she loves it. There were a couple of alarming (especially for parents from afar) incidents in the dorm earlier this term (an intruder in the night and a fire on a different floor), but those seem to have been resolved. I'm proud of how well she's adapted to life away from home. She has made good friends, loves her classes and teachers. . . the school has been a good fit. I miss her, but I'm really happy for her. (She did choose to come home for spring break a couple of weeks ago, rather that go off with friends somewhere. I appreciated the snuggle time on the couch with her, eating popcorn and watching season two of Chuck.)

Peep update:

We have delivered our entries into this year's Racine Art Museum Peep Art competition! While Aden was home over spring break we started a giant Sparkle Peep, and she and Quinn and I entered it in the group category. Mona created the spectacular Peepzilla for the individual adult category. Sadly, she had to clip the ears off of two Peeps on the tail for her piece to fit in the box they use to test the size requirement, but I'm proud of her for doing it. People need to see her wonderful work. (And I told her I can reattach those bits when she brings it back home.) More Peep stuff after the opening at the museum this coming week.

 

Instrument update:

I have been working very hard to finish three instruments that I got behind on during the pandemic. I started two violins and a viola a few years ago, and then wasn't in a good mental place to work on them for a while. I finally decided the only way out is through, and made myself get into my shop every day.

I think the big trick for getting back to work on something I've been avoiding, is to break it down into chunks that aren't overwhelming. For instance, corners on violins are hard. Three instruments times two plates times four corners per plate is way too many corners to face on an average day. But if I go into my shop with the expectation that I only have to do one, then that I can do. One stupid corner. Not all 24. Just one. Once I'm actually doing the work, I remember why I enjoy it, and usually wind up doing more than the minimum. But if something goes wrong? Then I still don't feel like a failure because I usually surpassed whatever my goal was in the shop at that point anyway.

My hope was to get one of these instruments done in time to submit to the first ever International Celebration of Women Luthiers exhibit in Georgia recently. I didn't make it. But I got close! All three instruments are "in the white" and just need some last bit of preparation before varnish.

 

Atlanta update:

I did make it to the International Celebration of Women Luthiers in Georgia myself, though! It was an amazing weekend. I got to see some spectacular instruments and bows, and unlike other competitions and exhibits, I got to try the bows! (Most of the time you can only admire the pretty bows, not use them.) Several of the builders with things in the exhibition were there for a panel discussion, and on the third day we got to hear professionals play everything in a hall so we could compare all their qualities. Honestly, there wasn't an instrument I didn't like.

But easily the best part of this trip was the people. I got to meet so many remarkable women that I'd only ever interacted with online, and everyone was welcoming and supportive and inspiring and kind. They invited me along at every turn to dinners and shop tours and I felt so included. There were so many new friends that instantly felt like old friends. My heart was so full after this trip.

The lovely Huthmaker Violin Shop!

 

Performance update:

We had such a wonderful concert with Festival City Symphony earlier this month, and there is another coming up next weekend. I'm grateful to be playing in an orchestra again, however, I am ready for the break after the season finale. But orchestra people are among the best people. It's nice to be among them again.

Time Management update:

One of the things people ask me most often is how I have the time to do all the different things I do. The answer is I don't. I have to steal that time from other places, most often sleep, exercise, and cleaning. All that instrument work was happening mostly between midnight and 3a.m. Which meant if I was going to be awake enough to work at the shop I had to cut out swimming in the morning. And the house is a mess, because if I don't clean, it doesn't get clean. Everyone else doesn't mind living in a pit, apparently, but it still bugs me. However, I would rather be remembered for having created a few nice things than for not letting the dishes pile up. There will be time to clean. (And when the kids leave the house one day, most things will STAY clean after I turn my back, which is a very exciting concept.)

But! Now that I'm in the varnishing stage with those instruments, breaks are built in. Once you put on a coat of something that needs to dry, well, you have to leave it alone until it's dry. Which means I'm back to going to bed before midnight, and I started swimming again. (House is still a mess, though. Oh well.)

We did take a moment to dust and reorganize the Mold-A-Rama collection recently. We were contacted by someone writing a paper about zoo souvenirs, and wanted a sample of what's on our mantel. Quinn and I spent an hour cleaning everything and putting them in a new order, and that was fun to revisit so many memories. (We really need to get down to the Oklahoma City Zoo before the year is up.)

Covid update:

Overall, it's nice to feel things transitioning back to something normal. Numbers are looking a lot better here in Wisconsin, but I really wish people could take the pandemic seriously just enough longer to get past things a bit. I'm one of a very few people in either of my orchestras still wearing a mask, and we still require them at the violin store. I only ever see one other person in a mask at the pool. I know too many people struggling with Long Covid to treat it lightly, and until we are squarely in 1% territory, I'm keeping my mask on in public places. Besides, I need to stay healthy for my travel plans!

Travel Plans update:

I'm returning to my varnish workshop in Chicago at the end of April! And right after that, I'm going to ITALY!!! Lots of planning for all of that. More soon.

Writing update:

Not much to report, other than lots of rejections for my latest novel, but we'll see. I'm signed up to pitch it to live people at the end of April. I'm also working on a kids book project, and a followup to my violin repair diagnostics guide that will actually walk people through doing some simple repairs. (There are other repair books out there, but they are boring. Mine should be less boring.)

General state of the world and brief TV show update:

There are so many things in the news that make me unbearably sad. I don't understand why it's so hard for people to be kind. That sounds Polyanna-ish and naive, but still. I get tired of people who are rash or illogical or selfish, and that's all the news seems to be filled with from the smallest stories to the biggest. Among the biggest is obviously the war in Ukraine. My dad was a pacifist, and I lean that way most of the time, but it's hard for me to see how doing anything short of driving Putin back to Russia without concessions will result in anything but long term strife for democracy around the world. That may be worth real sacrifice on all our parts.

Out of curiosity about Ukraine and its leader, we recently watched the first season of Volodymyr Zelenskyy's TV show "Servant of the People." It's very good. Well made, funny, and it's obvious how the man got elected president for real (with 70% of the vote) after doing a charming dry run on his fictitious program. It's also obvious why in peace time he disappointed his constituents a bit since there is no way for someone to live up to what a fictional character can achieve on TV. In war time, I don't think they could have asked for a better president.

The meta element while watching the show is startling. Obviously to watch someone play the role of the president of a country, knowing he then became the president of that country, never gets less remarkable. But there are so many sweeping shots of Ukraine looking beautiful, and every time I watched the opening credits, I wondered how many of those sites are still standing and how much is in ruin. The references to Putin are painful.

And in a really chilling moment in the last episode of the first season (and please please please Netflix, put up the other two because I really want to see what happens next), Zelenskyy's character has an imagined interaction with Ivan the Terrible, where the latter lays out an argument for ruling with cruelty trying to convince him that Ukraine belongs with its Russian roots. The president insists to his imagined death that Ukraine belongs with Europe. For a comedy show and at this time, it's deeply poignant.

 

Well, now I'm just talking about TV, so it's time to wrap this up. The funny part about any kind of "journal" is that you only have time to write when there is nothing going on. All the interesting things are hard to take time to describe. My life has been busy and interesting of late! Looking forward to making more time to share the things coming up.

I leave you with Lake Michigan looking beautifully blue:

Testing the Waters

Last night I got to swim again for the first time in nearly a year.

With the exception of occasional walks on the treadmill while watching Star Trek, or travel home from work on foot, any real physical activity became one of my basic losses of the pandemic. Right around my birthday in mid-March 2020, my county pool shut down. There is talk it may never reopen. In the meantime, the impact on my body of no longer swimming a few times a week hasn't been good. I feel less capable in my skin, like I've suffered a power drain.

So I asked around to see if there were any pools in our area that had found a way to allow people to swim safely, and I found two. One is north of us, a bit far, a bit expensive, but has excellent protocols. The other is south, closer, cheap, but a bit more lax. The one to the south was incredibly convenient (no reservations, evening hours), so my oldest daughter and I decided to give it a try and see if we felt safe there or not.

At first, it didn't look promising. There were swim lessons going on, and too many people indoors without masks for our comfort. I left my mask on until the last minute and got into the pool. I figured once submerged, it couldn't get much safer. I have noticed over the years that the odds of my even picking up a common cold were greatly diminished when I swim regularly, most likely because soaking for long periods in chlorine kills anything I might have picked up. Aden stood at the far end of the pool where there were fewer people and waited for most of them to leave before she took off her mask and ventured into the water.

But then after the swim lessons ended, and the parents and children cleared out, we had the entire pool to ourselves! A lone lifeguard sat off to the side in a mask and looked on while we didn't drown. After a little while, they shut off some of the overhead lights and turned on the lights in the water to make it glow, which was really beautiful.

I hadn't intended to swim a whole mile, because I didn't want to make my body too sore after such a long hiatus, but it felt so nice to move I went ahead and did it anyway. The first few laps felt good and familiar, but also like a strange adjustment. My back didn't seem to understand what was happening, then got used to it. By lap eight, my arms were feeling it, but they got used to it, too. By the thirty-sixth lap, I knew I would be sore today, but it was nice to know it would be the good kind of sore. Not the feeling-old-while-I-get-out-of-bed kind of sore. Sore like I earned something. Sore like I can feel my body working the way it's supposed to.

Aden simply enjoyed floating about and being out of the house for a change. She agreed a pool to ourselves (or even at some point with a couple of other people in the other lanes) was not a big risk. We are going to do our best to stick to a regular schedule and swim a few times a week.

One of the things I appreciated while doing my laps again was the ability to think and sort out ideas. I can do that in a way in the pool that I can't quite do anywhere else. And as I was literally testing the waters again, returning to something that used to be normal and now feels noteworthy, I started to imagine what it will be like building toward an old life that seems new again.

I have orchestra back. It's different, and now carries an undertone of anxiety not related to simply sorting out rhythms and fingerings by a certain deadline, but it's part of my routine again. It requires I keep track of the days once more. I have to plan ahead to have gas in the car, and to eat before I leave to be someplace on time. "On time" has not been a concern for many months.

I'm working on a project for the Racine Art Museum's "Peeps contest." It was canceled last year, and my kids and I couldn't find any Peeps in the store anyway. (One of many unexpected shortages due to Covid.) I received a notice in the mail inviting our family to please participate this year. The Peeps contest is back! As are actual Peeps. I'm looking forward to sharing more about that as our projects come together this week.

"Looking forward to" is a nice phrase I haven't gotten to use in a while. There have only been vague plans and unfinished chores and no structure to anything. I didn't normally think of myself as someone needing structure, but I know better now.

I don't need rules so much as rhythm. I've missed anticipation, interaction, conclusion, accountability, and a predictable level of repetition that allows you to plan. I've missed planning things.

I told Aden I really believe she'll be able to start college in the fall. Finally. She's not convinced. She's had this rug pulled out from under her twice now.

I believe this past year has been hardest on her of anyone in our home. Virtual schooling as worked out very well for Mona, and doesn't seem to bother Quinn. This year would have been an adjustment for Ian anyway having retired from the Army, so he was already going to have to sort out what role to play at home now. I have good days and bad. But Aden was supposed to be able to finish her senior year of high school and spend the summer with her friends and move on to a college adventure. I was going to send her care packages and enjoy hearing stories of life on her own when she'd visit at holidays. Instead she's been without direction or a social scene that requires she get up from the couch. Compound that with the guilt of being anything short of grateful for a home where she's safe and a family that is healthy, and it makes for a fairly dismal gap year.

But I really do think with a year of her college figuring out what works and what doesn't, people getting vaccinated, better and more rapid tests becoming available, and her own new habits for staying safe, Aden will get to go away to school. Which means thinking about things like packing, and classes, and... And all the things a 19-year old should be thinking about. I'm excited for her.

We're a long way from normal. And there are some things about the old normal that I don't think I want back. But swimming again on a regular schedule is a big step in the right direction for a change. I feel it in my muscles today. And I feel it in my heart.

Being Thankful in 2020

This year has been so strange and raw. It's been stressful, as somehow too little and too much is happening.

There is good and bad in all things. This year it's just been easier to see the bad.

But when I started this post yesterday on Thanksgiving (where we didn't have any guests, and I had to make my mom's stuffing without my mom) I thought I would do a quick accounting of the good things while the turkey rested and the potatoes boiled. I thought the list of what has made me smile in 2020 would not take too long.

I was wrong. When I gave myself permission to set aside the worry and the grief and focus on the positive without guilt, the list was huge. It surprised me.

Starting even with just the normal baseline for thankfulness--that we are healthy, that we are safe, that we are together--means something larger this year.

So here are some of the things specific to 2020 that I am thankful for, regardless of whatever low-lights there have been at this peculiar moment in history.

Our Neighborhood:

Bay View is a special place with some really kind and creative people in it. Our neighborhood association went above and beyond making sure the farmers market by the lake could still be enjoyed safely all summer, and they put out lists of local businesses that were still operating and how. I've already written about how they created a neighborhood-wide Pumpkin Pavilion event where our business won a "golden pumpkin" for our Halloween window display.

But beyond the official outlets organizing to make the world a little better at a complicated time, neighbors were simply good to neighbors. When everything shut down in the spring, many people came up with ways for people to enjoy their frequent walks outside while maintaining social distance. There were groups that arranged for people to put things in their windows as a fun game for kids, so they could spot teddy bears one week, flowers the next, etc. We put up information in our store windows for people to read since they could no longer come into the shop to ask questions. (I even put up a page about how the plague in the 17th century impacted the life of Stradivari.)

A neighbor named Kellie Krawczyk did a series called "Through the Windows" where she photographed people all over Bay View in their businesses and homes. She wanted people to still feel connected at a time of isolation, and it helped to see her pictures of people together and smiling through their windows. Here's the one she did of me in my shop:

 

My favorite activity back in the spring was a crayon-themed scavenger hunt put on by Rush-Mor records.

They asked me if I wouldn't mind having my violin store as a clue on the route, and I was so pleased! It was fun watching people discover our store, and stop to scribble down the name written on our crayon before moving on to the next clue.

Ian and I had a great time solving all the riddles and walking and biking all over Bay View to find everything over the course of a few weeks. We got all the clues right, and even found most of the extra dummy crayons (for a total of more than 70).

The only one we missed I felt ridiculous for not getting, because it was right by my daughter's high school on my drive home from work every day.

We even looked there once as a possible place for a clue about an old library, and still didn't see it. I don't quite get how that happens. We went past a bright green crayon alone in a field at least twice before we finally saw it, so we're apparently bad at things hidden in plain sight.

Ian and I learned stuff about our neighborhood we didn't know before (Milwaukee has a submarine dock!), and found several restaurants we're looking forward to going inside one day when the plague is over.

Here are all the crayons mounted outside the record store after the hunt was over. (The one we had in our window was a lavender one at the bottom.)

There was a Saturday afternoon in spring when Ian and I were able to leave the store for lunch. In normal times that doesn't happen because Saturday is our busiest day, but when you're by "appointment only" there is newfound freedom. We got takeout sandwiches from a place on the scavenger hunt route we knew would have a crayon. It was chilly out, but sunny, and we walked for miles collecting crayons and enjoying each other's company. The clues and crayons were a wonderful distraction, and it was the first real stretch of time after the lock down began that I simply had fun. It felt good to smile. We started to think ahead that maybe when things get back to normal that we should not be too busy to make time for a walk on a Saturday again.

Things I made this year:

Creative energy is a strange thing. Big projects that take real continuity of thought were hard for me to handle in the spring and summer. But I still had bursts of inspiration here and there, and small projects that you can pick up and put down are always fun for me.

 

 

This year I made a display case for my books, a clock out of a bass top for a friend, a cribbage board for my son, and a Cell-O-Lantern for our window (among other things).

I love making things. I wish there were enough space in the world for all the things I want to make, but I have to limit what I do to what storage will allow.

In terms of those bigger projects that take more focus, I'm thankful that both writing and violin making are activities that aren't hindered by lock downs. (Only by my state of mind.)

On the writing front, back in January and February before things shut down, I was really proud of myself for taking a real stab at proper book marketing for my latest novel, "Just Friends, Just War." Writing is such a fun challenge, but I find promotion and marketing rather painful. I learned how to make a press release, lined up a review in a local paper, and scheduled a book reading/signing at my favorite bookstore. All of that fell through, and my book got kind of lost in the peculiar scramble and shutdown that was the spring, but I am still pleased I tried. Next time I need to promote a novel, I will know better what to do. 

Check me out on the wall of upcoming events back in March! One day, I'll actually get to DO such an event.

Speaking of new novels, my most recent one is called "1001 Weddings" and the manuscript is currently in an agent's hands for consideration. That's exciting, even if nothing comes of it and I have to publish it myself. Keep your fingers crossed for me! It would be an interesting adventure to be published traditionally.

And I finished my repair diagnostics guide! "My Violin Needs Help!" has been a project I've been meaning to do for years, and I finally did it. The timing is good, too, because now more than ever, players and teachers need help troubleshooting violin (and viola and cello) problems from home. At least once a week now, I get phone calls from parents of players who have issues with tuning or something buzzing, and I just read to them straight from my book until they figure it out, and usually fix it safely themselves. I hope that book helps a lot of people.

Related to my repair guide, I was invited to write an article version of it for Strad Magazine. It's a beautiful publication out of London devoted to violins, and I contacted them to possibly review my new book, and they offered to commission an article instead. It's all written and submitted, and uses my photographs. Having an article in the Strad was not even on my bucket list, because I was intimidated by that particular bucket. But wow, what a cool thing to have happen this year.

I also got to do a Zoom book club meeting for a group in Ohio that read "Just Friends, Just War" and that was really gratifying. I don't know if that would have been a possibility in the past, but online everything is a way of life in 2020, and I had a blast talking with that book club.

Violin making took a bit of a hit early in the year, because it was hard to get my head into that focused, creative space. But in recent months I've jumped back on that lutherie horse and I have two violins and a viola underway. I'm not as far along as I'd like to be, but I keep reminding myself that any progress is good, and I am making progress. (Except when the dog gets into my shop. He does NOT like me working in there. He likes to herd us all together into one space, so when I'm trying to work on instruments he sits at my knee and stares at me imploringly to leave already.)

I even got to carve scrolls up at the cottage in October. That whole trip with all the leaves changing and where I got time to be alone and read was wonderful. I got to visit with my mom and spend time with Aden. I got a weekend with my friends that was more fun than I can properly describe. I loved every minute of it.

Plus, this fall was stunningly beautiful.

Aden was supposed to start college in the fall, and I'm sad she didn't get to because of Covid, but I'm not going to lie--I love still having her here. We've been watching Deep Space Nine together, and she makes dinner a couple of nights a week before I get home from work. This has been a less than ideal kind of a gap year, but I'm not looking forward to not having Aden as a part of our household.

And even though some of her big milestones got derailed a bit, my first baby still graduated high school this year. Amazing. And she not only voted for the first time in 2020, but she was able to convince a few of her friends to vote for the first time as well. It's odd that she'll look back on the graduation ceremony that never was, and voting in her first presidential election at our dining room table (where I signed as her witness, and she signed as mine, and then we went to a drop box), but still. I don't take for granted for a minute that I got to watch my child grow to adulthood. (I am so damn proud of her.)

 

Anonymous gifts of 2020:

As part of Aden's graduation, she received a gift card from "Grandma Book." We have no idea who that is, but apparently "Grandma Book" left graduation cards and gifts at every home in Bay View with a "graduating senior" sign out front. How's that for making us feel better about people in general?

We also got our unexplained coconut light in the mail earlier this year, and a few weeks ago I received a beautiful book about the famous Studley Tool Box (that every woodworker I know is mesmerized by). Who sent them? Don't know. But if you did and you read my blog, "Thank you!"

And not that this was anonymous, but my kids made me breakfast in bed for Mother's Day this year where they got up at five in the morning to make cinnamon rolls from scratch! I was really impressed and touched.

I'm thankful for our health this year:

Health-wise, things are good. My granulomatous mastitis issue seems to be done, and I had surgery recently for a uterine problem that should make my nightmarish periods go back to normal again. Only my back is giving me trouble, but eh. I just make Quinn pick things up off the floor for me when possible. 

Quinn broke his wrist in March on a school ski trip (back when schools and trips were a thing) but has healed just fine. I am always thankful we have health insurance.

As much as virtual school has its drawbacks, I think in terms of Mona's pain issue, it's been better for her to do school from home. The hours are shorter, she's not under as much stress, and she can manage things like headaches more easily. That's a win.

Not having to deal with the physical schools in general has been nice, actually. My kids are all old enough to take care of themselves, so from my end it's easy. They get themselves up, get on their computers, and go. We haven't had to worry much about clothes or showers or anyone outgrowing shoes.

The other sort of health related thing was that after my pool was shut down in March and I couldn't swim anymore, I decided to dust off my old stretching notes from my dojo days and revive doing that and some blocks and strikes. We taught all of it to the kids, and got into a nice daily routine. We got a hold of some donated yoga mats, and cleared space in the living room to stretch. We take turns choosing the music, but most often we listen to records. (I think my kids were most confused by Prince, saying, "Well, that's a lot of sounds.") The dog goes back and forth between ignoring what we're doing, and bringing us toys to throw while we're all on the floor.

We got away from our stretching routine during the last half of summer, but it's back. I really like family stretching time. I can't imagine it ever would have come about in a normal sort of year.

I miss swimming, but I've been doing more walks by the lake. It takes me about an hour to walk the loop from my violin store through the neighborhood and down along the lake path and back. It's always beautiful. And often I use that time to call someone and chat as I walk, and that's nice, too.

A good year for our Mold-A-Rama machine:

We got the Mold-A-Rama machine up and running! We've had it in our garage since 2014, and it sort of worked, but not reliably enough to put it out for the public to use. This year, mostly thanks to the extra time that comes with wiping all activities off the calendar, we were able to really look it over, call in the proper experts, and get it working. Ian and I put better wheels on it, so it's easier for us to roll it down next to the store. We had it out for public use for a couple of days in October, and it was so much fun! Little kids in particular were so excited to make their own dinosaurs.

I have hope again that one day we will get a custom mold made so the machine can crank out little violins, but in the meantime a corythosaurus is plenty good. We even got written up in the local news! They plan to run another piece in the spring when the machine is out again once the weather is nice.

The bird and game time:

A couple of years ago, Mona got a cockatiel. I have never been keen on the idea of birds as pets, because it seems to me any pet that would leave if you left the door open, probably shouldn't be a pet. Plus birds are meant to fly, and it seemed cruel to prevent one from doing so. But Keiko LOVES Mona, and has grown out their clipped wings and flies just fine. We leave their cage open when we're around, and sometimes the bird hangs out with us and flies a bit, but for the most part they really like their cage, and they sit on top of it.

Anyway, the bird seems to love having people in the house all day, and is just the funniest thing. Recently Keiko discovered ponytail holders, and those frequently wind up around their neck and then the bird protests loudly when we promptly remove them.

And the bird likes to hang out with me and Quinn when we play games.

I like evening games with Quinn. We have a card table set up in the living room where games are stacked to choose from. Regular favorites are Boggle, cribbage, rummy 500, and backgammon. The bird often joins us as we play, and last week got so fussy with us about moving cards around, that we gave them their own hand of Jokers and the rules to Texas Holdem which seems to keep them content. Keiko sits on their cards and occasionally scolds Quinn for reasons unknown.

For Quinn's birthday this year, I made him a scavenger hunt of plastic frogs hidden around the house, and a Boggle cake. (We played the Boggle cake board before we ate it.)

Quinn and I have also gotten out a couple of times to do archery in the park. That's a nice socially distanced activity that I wish we could do more of. (It's also near our favorite frozen custard stand, that when it's not too crowded we indulge in.)

Random bits of thankfulness this year:

Ian retired from the army in April, and we don't miss drill weekends. I'm not sure what those would have looked like this year anyway, but we didn't have to find out. I like having my husband home. I like not being in a panic every time something in the world goes awry that might necessitate calling up his reserve unit again.

I learned poker recently. It's fun. I'm sure it's very different with actual people and real money involved, but at the moment I find my online games with fake money and virtual opponents really enjoyable.

Work is good. I am beyond thankful to have a job I love that is apparently rather recession-proof. (We learned that back when we opened our own business in 2008, and it remains true.) The teaching studio has been closed since March, and I miss the sounds of lessons in the back, but we've retooled the space to be Covid-safe to teach in if anyone wants to. And I miss having people inside my shop, but having quiet time to work is great. I am thankful to have a space to go to that I can control and that is like an extension of my home. I like having somewhere else to be so I don't have to be in my house all the time. Aden even used the teaching studio over the summer to do art and practice guitar when she needed a break from her siblings. Work has been sanity saving in this time of isolation.

I like that Aden has been learning guitar since she now has the time.

I like to eat popcorn and binge watch things with the kids. We all loved The Good Place. Currently we're watching Community, and just finished Season One of the Amazing Race. When we're feeling really fried and need something simple, we watch House Hunters International, and marvel how many times the woman in the couple has given up a job she loves to follow her man someplace where she knows nobody, and she wants to be in the city center because she has nothing to do which clashes with his need to be near his job or screws with their budget. We watch all such shows now with an eye for how good a place would be to quarantine in.

I'm thankful for grocery pick up, which we may continue to do even after you no longer need a mask to go inside a store.

I'm thankful my husband is good at computer stuff, and found a way I like for storing my photos that frees up memory on my laptop. (My MacBook Air now kind of looks like a Borg, but it makes me happy.)

I'm thankful for how generous people are when given the opportunity. Yesterday on Thanksgiving morning I went online to see if anyone had foil tape, which we needed to finish the vent installation part of putting in our new microwave. Within minutes not only did people offer up foil tape, they all offered to deliver it. How nice is that? We are also members of a "buy nothing" group on Facebook where you can ask for things or show what you want to give away. Recently a woman escaping a domestic violence situation with her kids needed anything people could spare for her new home. We put a rug we don't need anymore on our porch for her to pick up, along with a bag of toys my kids assembled that they've outgrown. It feels good to help someone. It feels lovely to be helped.

So not my favorite year by far, but many good things to look back on. More than I can even put in an already too-long post.

This Thanksgiving was even nice, if a bit low key. We worked together to install our new microwave, we made food, we ate food, we walked the dog as a family which made him very happy, and then we played a few rounds of Jack Box games with my brother Barrett and his family online (and over the phone). Our favorite games are Quiplash and Earwax. (We highly recommend them if you get a chance to play--they are party games that require devices, not "video games.")

We even enjoyed our annual plate of orange goo at our Thanksgiving feast. I have no idea what we are doing wrong with that jello recipe. We even added extra gelatin, and let the whole thing sit in the fridge for an extra couple of days. We have gotten that orange jello to set exactly two times since I inherited my grandmother's coveted mold and glass serving platter. I have no clue what we're not doing now that we did then. But orange goo still tastes good, so we served it in little ramekins instead of adding it to our plates.

 

I hope however your orange goo came out, you had a nice Thanksgiving. I hope there are moments in 2020 you'll look back on with fondness as well.

Recognized and Unnamed

I've been swimming at the local county pool since before my children were born. It's good exercise, but for lap swimmers it's rather solitary, which suits me fine. I want to go, get in my mile, and head to work. I use the time to let my mind wander as I go back and forth across the pool; I sort out problems or come up with new ideas to make the time seem more productive.

The other half of the pool not sectioned off into lanes by ropes is the social side. It's where the aqua-aerobics people meet in the mornings, and kids play in the afternoons. The people over there chat as they are led through different routines.

There is a core group of regulars at the pool in the morning. The aqua-aerobics classes are mostly women, and lap swimmers tend to be men, although there are obviously exceptions. Few people cross from one side to the other. Everyone recognizes who goes where.

Here is the thing I've been thinking about lately as I cross the pool 64 times in a row: When we think of people in our lives, we think of friends, family, colleagues, and acquaintances. We don't think as often of the vast number of people who populate our days whom we recognize but can't even name.

Spring Break 2018--Road Trip to San Antonio

I need to get down what we did for Spring Break (back in March!) before I forget it all.  There are times I wonder how much value there is to maintaining this blog, but when I go back and look at old posts I remember why I do it.  It's a good writing exercise, but beyond that it really is a good record of many things.  I'm often shocked by how much I've forgotten.  So in the interest of not forgetting all of this, here is our Spring Break 2018!

Our original plan to go to New York City was scuttled at the last minute this year, so I presented the kids with a list of alternatives and the one they all found most exciting was the idea of a big road trip to Texas.  Among the last of the Mold-A-Rama locations on our map was the San Antonio Zoo.  That was the one place that seemed impossible because it's just not near anything we had any excuse to visit, so we decided to make it a destination unto itself.

We hit the road early on Monday the 26th (the day after one of my orchestra concerts, which prevented us from getting a start on the weekend).  We drove straight to St Louis in a lot of rain.  We passed through many a small town (including one in Illinois with a sign claiming it was a "good" place to live and made us wonder if they were expressing honest doubt by throwing quote marks around good).  Before hitting the road we'd stopped by AAA for maps which kept Quinn entertained as he tracked our progress.

We arrived at a Drury Inn by the convention center in time to partake in the dinner buffet included in our stay.  It was a nice hotel, but peculiar in that most of the building was a parking structure and the actual hotel was just on the 5th and 6th floors.  There was a teeny tiny pool right behind the food service and the whole place was just packed with families.  I'm not sure why, really.  I felt like we were in St Louis at an odd time for tourists, but maybe not?

Determined

Two of the things I most want to define myself by (aside from my relationships and my attempts at being a decent person) are my instrument making and my writing.  Yet somehow, more often than not, the treadmill of chores takes priority, as do the needs of others around me like my kids and my customers and even our silly dog.  There are rehearsals to attend and meals to make and little things like filling the gas tank and collecting dishes from around the house that nibble away at my available time.  Whole days, then weeks, then months, and even years slip by where I'm not doing the things I most want to do.  Stepping back, that looks ridiculous.

I know how to fix this, I just have to do it.

When I talk to younger women in instrument making the main questions they have for me are about how to keep doing it after having children.  (I remain fascinated by the fact that this is never an automatic question about men.  No one assumes once a man has children  he won't be able to continue doing his work.  The expectations of women are different, both about us and by us.)  And I tell them that the answer is simple, just not easy to do:

You must carve out time that is yours and be ruthless and unapologetic about protecting it.

Summer Update

Summer seems to be racing by faster than usual this year.  We're making the most of it, though!  Compared to the trauma of last summer almost anything would be a welcome break this time around, but even with the vacation bar set low I feel we're helping make some great memories for our kids.

To me the essence of summer vacation is being unscheduled, getting outside, having time to do projects purely for fun, a cookout, reading for hours on end, bare feet, watching movies/TV way too late into the night, and a road trip.  By those measures it's been a quintessential summer break, and there's still some left, so life is good.

After our trip to Washington D.C. we had a few days at home together, and then Ian took the kids off to the cottage.  I had to stay behind in Milwaukee to work, but I loved that my kids got to meet up with their cousin in Michigan and just be at the lake.  My mom and my brother were there, too, and Ian emailed me reports of much swimming and fishing and cookie baking.

It's weird living in our house with just the dog.  I kept Chipper with me because I needed the company, but he was so sad.  He kept wandering into the kids' rooms to look forlornly at their empty beds.  After a couple of days he begged to go out the back door (which is odd--he's the only dog I know who hides when you offer to walk him), then begged to go into the garage, then begged to get into the car (another thing he doesn't like), and then he climbed into the backseat and wouldn't leave.  I think he wanted me to drive him to wherever the kids were.  I left the doors open to everything for over an hour in the hopes he'd come back in the house, but eventually I drove him around the neighborhood a bit and when we returned home he bounded inside.  I think he believed some kind of magic would have happened and everyone would be back again on our return, but when he got in the house everything about him just drooped in disappointment.


The opposite of the depressed dog was when I got him out of the kennel on the ferry.  I managed to get away to join everyone at the cottage for a weekend, and the only convenient way to do that is to take the high speed ferry across Lake Michigan.  I've never taken the dog on the ferry before, but they have a kennel down with the cars and attendants make sure the dogs get water and treats.  I thought the dog was going to wag us both to death when I got him out of there, and his joy at being reunited with the kids again was something to behold.






The cottage remains wonderful.  Mona caught many frogs this year.  Quinn caught many fish.  We played badminton on the beach.  The kids swam at The Point, and crossed the island on the other side to use the rope swing there at the other sandy spot they have dubbed The Pointless.  We ate literally pounds of blueberries from a local farm.  There was Monopoly and Boggle and we stayed up very late to watch both Spirited Away and Howl's Moving Castle.  I got to help everyone do tie dying, and Aden was finally successful in making a real spiral pattern on a shirt the way she always wanted.