Reorienting

Dear Lenten Good Intentions: I miss you. Please return.  

I had this idea that I would fast from media after 10:30 at night. But I can't seem to get my work finished before midnight. The biggest problem is being distracted by articles and videos that I get directed to by a variety of newsletters in my email.  A few of these are important - information about upcoming changes at the kids' school (the high schoolers are finally going back two days a week despite the best efforts of the teachers' unions to keep them home longer), information about upcoming changes at the college where I teach (students are back on campus and some classes are starting in person, while others remain hybrid and some are being moved outside), information about the college where the older boys are going (I let them track that for the most part), and information about bills due, etc. Others are not so important or not important at all. They are just distractions. 

Which is what I really need to fast from. 

Not that what I'm reading is upsetting. The opposite: It is interesting, fascinating, thoughtful.  I did turn off Facebook for Lent. These articles are usually tangentially related to what I'm teaching or what I'm interested in - articles about books and art and nature and child rearing. Sometimes I end up shopping for books mentioned or looking at destinations described. I spent hours looking at content on this website: Art and Theology, thanks to a tip from my sister. My email is full of newsletters from good organizations offering quality content and interesting webinars and online lectures and thoughtful articles. I spent way too much time reading transcripts from OnBeing the other night, for example. The pandemic has created an avalanche of online access to events and lectures that used to be inaccessible. Accessibility is great! Except when it is overwhelming. 

I'm actually a tired of reading other people's words. I'm tired of thinking "Maybe I should turn in to that lecture." (even if I usually don't). There are lot of good things out there, but they take time and energy away from other good things. 

If sin is disordered love, attachments that supersede the loves that we should be nurturing - like love of God and neighbor, most importantly husband and children, - then acting like I love all of this art and knowledge out there is a disordered attachment. It's sinful. This may seem like loading myself up with guilt and shame or watering down the meaning of sin, but really it's just acknowledging that I need to turn away, turn off the computer, shut the book or the magazine, and move on. On the days when I do orient myself towards other activities - spending time with the kids or friends, gardening, doing a project, even just cleaning - I usually feel more rested at the end of the day even if I've been busier.  Time is a gift, and I have squandered a great deal of it.  So now I'm turning this off and going to try again to reorient love in the right direction.

 The day is slipping away quietly; a moment for quiet reflection has eluded me again.  I have been looking forward to Lent after an indulgent Christmas season, at least in terms of food and wine and other home comforts. But now I see it might slip away if I don't become more intentional about, well, being intentional. 

I don't really care for that word. I have been deleting emails about how to practice Lent intentionally, skipping over Instagram photos of how to do Lent in a pandemic, scrolling past encouraging messages about taking it easy on myself this year. What have I been doing for the last few weeks, months, really, but taking it easy? I feel guilty saying it because there are a lot of people suffering. There are people without jobs, without good health, without family or friends to support them, without homes, without food and without heat during these days of frigid winter weather.  Meanwhile, we struggle with Zoom, and failing Spanish, and loneliness, and too many dirty dishes from making too many tasty treats. But our calendar has been relatively clear and our home is full of family (although the 6 year old has been mourning her brothers who were home for Christmas break and now gone), and our back patio has proved a great place to host the neighbors. There are some things I like about Zoom school and outdoor church and no sports competitions (until now).  But I don't want to overlook or belittle the cares and worries of other people, or of the kids, or my own anxieties about what's next for us, even though I know it will all work out, I am confident, eventually.

Instead, for Lent, when I fast from sweets, I want to remember to say something sweet to the husband and kids, since I tend to be stingy with praise. Even though I am fasting from wine and beer, I want to keep talking and socializing with my family and the neighbors. Although I'm trying to read and pray more, I want to be a better listener.  And furthermore, I want to get back in the habit of visible acts of charity - something to engage the kids - instead of donating anonymously online with an easy click (although that, too). 

That's my own little personal look at "How to have the best Lent ever." I have a whole long list of things we could do to improve ourselves. but I'll leave those for New Year's or the next milestone birthday. 

Instead, here is a little Louis Untermeyer poem I stumbled across at poetryfoundation.org.  Also I really enjoyed a diversion into art, music, and poetry of the liturgical season at this website, artandtheology.net. (Her Lenten playlist features my sister's group Sister Sinjin).  The Stations of the Cross in Art at the Smithsonian American Art Museum is especially moving. Could a similar reflection be done at any good art museum? 

Ash Wednesday

BY LOUIS UNTERMEYER

(Vienna) I

Shut out the light or let it filter through

These frowning aisles as penitentially

As though it walked in sackcloth. Let it be

Laid at the feet of all that ever grew

Twisted and false, like this rococo shrine

Where cupids smirk from candy clouds and where

The Lord, with polished nails and perfumed hair,

Performs a parody of the divine.

The candles hiss; the organ-pedals storm;

Writhing and dark, the columns leave the earth

To find a lonelier and darker height.

The church grows dingy while the human swarm

Struggles against the impenitent body’s mirth.

Ashes to ashes. . . . Go. . . . Shut out the light.

 (Hinterbrühl) II

And so the light runs laughing from the town,

Pulling the sun with him along the roads

That shed their muddy rivers as he goads

Each blade of grass the ice had flattened down.

At every empty bush he stops to fling

Handfuls of birds with green and yellow throats;

While even the hens, uncertain of their notes,

Stir rusty vowels in attempts to sing.

He daubs the chestnut-tips with sudden reds

And throws an olive blush on naked hills

That hoped, somehow, to keep themselves in white.

Who calls for sackcloth now? He leaps and spreads

A carnival of color, gladly spills

His blood: the resurrection—and the light.

Louis Untermeyer, “Ash Wednesday” from Burning Bush (New York: Harcourt, 1928). Permission is granted by arrangement with the Estate of Louis Untermeyer, Norma Anchin Untermeyer c/o Professional Publishing Services. The reprint is granted with the expressed permission by Laurence S. Untermeyer.

Source: Burning Bush (1928)

What I read in 2020

Another much belated post - the yearly summary of the prior year's reading. Why bother, I am asking myself? Because I like to see something accomplished? Sometimes I wonder if I read because I like to complete something when everything else seems unfinished. 

At any rate, in 2020, I recorded reading 70 books, a few more than last year's 62. I counted quite a few children's chapter books - we've been more dedicated to our nightly reading of chapter books instead of picture books, so that boosted my numbers.   This fall, my reading definitely slowed down as I was treading water while teaching and managing life. Thank goodness the teens took over most of the dinner prep this fall. And since they have decided they like their food better than my cooking, I pretty much have stepped back from cooking dinner more than once or twice every two weeks or so. 

The lack of car trips may have reduced the reading I did this year, also. But I participated in a book club in which we read Book Riot's Read Harder Book List that expanded the kind of books I usually read. Everyone reads their own selections, and then we share recommendations. It's a very esoteric list - and the categories tend to focus on identity of the author or main character, which makes certain categories harder to fulfill, but I ended up reading some enjoyable selections for that list that I wouldn't normally pick up. 

And thank goodness for the Little Free Libraries! Our library has been opened with reduced hours for some time, and they were doing online checkout with curbside pick up for weeks before they opened again, but we haven't spent much time there because the youngest now actually does some school work and in the afternoons we often head to the park or swimming and ballet lessons or walk the dog. But I like to browse shelves, not the online card catalog, so I shifted to picking more from the book boxes, which have proliferated and remained full during this pandemic. Every time I walk by, I have to pick in to see what is new - and I can pass three or four Little Libraries every walk.  Thus I have a teetering stack of books waiting to be read - and need to get serious about putting some back in the box that I may never get around to reading.

But now in the interest of keeping track, this year I read:

Children's Books: 17 chapter books, some graphic novels, not including picture books

Favorite: Tough choice here. I was excited to read The Penderwicks at Last, which was thoroughly enjoyable. I think I liked the series better than my girls. And it was fun to read about wedding plans as our son's wedding is growing near, although planning anything has been difficult. I also really liked A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Parks, about a young boy fleeing his war torn village in Sudan. It's based on a true story. Both of these books I read to myself - I didn't read them aloud to the 6 year old, but they are thoughtful and well written stories for adults as well as young people.  

Poetry: 3 collections

Favorite: Probably the Richard Wilber collection, although I did enjoy both Walker's and Snyder's collections. I also read a fair bit of poetry online while planning for class - I assign Camille Dungy, Gary Snyder, Wendell Berry, Mary Oliver, W. S. Merwin, Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, William Blake, William Wordsworth, Coleridge, and PB Shelley, some haiku, and some selections from The Tempest and Midsummer Night's Dream. I mix up the contemporary poets sometimes, but the Transcendentals and Romantic poets and Shakespeare are always in the reading packet, although this term I picked some different poems. 

Lit Journals: 3

Favorite: Again, too few to pick a favorite: Image, Sewanee Review, and I included the Best of Science and Nature Writing in this catalog. I subscribed to Orion this year again and signed up for a free issue of The Sun, but they don't exactly fit this category. The writing is usually excellent in Orion, but I won't renew this year - the apocalyptic essays sometimes go too far. I did sign up for Plough, though, after assigning several essays from their website this term. And I have enjoyed looking through Emergence online. It is a relatively new publication with an appealing layout. 

Fiction: 21 

Favorite: This is a tough one. I think I'd have to pick The Mothers by Brit Bennet or Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jessamyn Ward, or Zora Neale Hurston's The Eyes Were Watching God. All black women writers, all very lyrical. Bennet's novel does read like a first novel, but her characters came alive, and her plot was engrossing.  The sad thing is I borrowed this book, a signed copy, from a friend and I CAN"T FIND IT. I put it somewhere safe while cleaning up before Christmas, and now I'm afraid I turned it in at the library or a book box accidentally. It is NOWHERE. 

Nonfiction: 16,  not including spiritual books - in which case it is 27, more than fiction... 

Favorite: I read a bit of Pico Iyer after he spoke at the Writers' Symposium by the Sea and I picked up several Robert Macfarlane books in interest of my nature writing class - then I didn't assign any of his essays. They just don't quite fit in my list, but I may revise that next term. I love his evocative style, but he is not a fast read. That said, my very favorite was hands' down, Brian Doyle's One Long River of Song.  I also thoroughly enjoyed the letters of Wendell Berry and Gary Snyder collected in Distant Neighbors. The book made me wish for a similarly minded penpal for myself. 

Classics: 4? Their Eyes Were Watching God + children's books. A sad showing in this category. I need to remedy this next year. 

Favorite: Since I already mentioned TEWWG, I'll nominate Charlotte's Web. Never get tired of reading it. But I did also love rereading A Secret Garden.

Rereads: 4 - the same four in the classics category - hence, classics. Charlotte's Web, A Secret Garden, Their Eyes Were Watching God, and The Magician's Nephew 

Spiritual reading: 15.  

Favorite: Perhaps I could include Belden Lane's Backpacking with the Saints, which I enjoyed, but had pretty high expectations for, which weren't quite met. My favorite book club pick was probably The Bells of Nagasaki By Takashi Nagai.  I had read his biography, The Song of Nagasaki, but his autobiography was extremely moving. Saints and Villains, the novel about Dietrich Bonhoeffer by Denise Giardino, was another book club pick I really enjoyed. I was a bit disappointed in a couple of our book club choices, notably Christine Watkins' The Warning, which is a warning about a coming apocalypse based on visions of several people who say that everyone will receive their own vision of their lives and judgement in order to have a chance to repent. It's the kind of book that keeps you up at night out of fear, rather than because it is so good. I talked to our priest about it, and while he didn't come out right and say it was heretical, he did suggest that anything that relies on fear and predictions about the future should be set aside. 

I should perhaps go in and put links to these titles, but in the interest of time - already it is two weeks after I started writing this! - I will hit publish. I am off to a slow start for 2021.  After gorging on Liane Moriarity books with the young adults over Christmas break, and the having to dive in to class planning and Canvas course creation, - oh, and watching All Creatures Great and Small! LOVE it -  I haven't had much time or energy to read into the wee hours.  But one book that will make my list of favorites for next year is Dorothy Sayers's Busman's Holiday. Lord Peter and Harriet take off on a honeymoon to the small English village where Harriet was born and immediately get dragged into a murder mystery. Those dangerous small villages! Those dreamy small villages! A sad reminder that a trip to the English countryside was supposed to be in our future this spring because our third son was supposed to be studying in London this summer.  Darn Covid!  

That son just turned 21 but had been celebrating by drinking our wine since our trip to see grandma who told him he could round up... 

I'll end with some goals for next year, although who knows if I'll look back.  I'm planning to read a big fat classic for my Book Riot book club's category of a book you've been putting off - maybe Bleak House.  We also pick my Catholic book club picks at the beginning of the year this time, so we'll be reading more spiritual classics, and fewer end times books. Right now we're reading a book on St. Joseph for the meeting next week - need to finish! I'm rereading Louise Perrotta's book I already owned and reading a novel God's Courageous Carpenter, that my mother in law gifted me. I just ordered The Squire and Sally Thomas's Motherland, now that it is in paperback. And I've got that stack of books to read from those book boxes... 

New Year's thoughts

Happy Feast of St. Thomas Aquinas! It is a fitting day to send young people back to college. Our third just left for his second semester of junior year. Our second left for school last week - the last time we'll drop him off for school as he headed off for his second semester of his fifth year. He was actually going to Charleston before heading to South Bend because he is doing some research for his thesis project, which is designing a school for the traditional building arts in South Bend, similar to the one he went to visit in Charleston.  He returned to campus after all his travels and got his negative Covid test, once again reassuring us that air travel is relatively safe.  Thomas is his middle name. Today is a good day to ask St. TAq to guide their footsteps and to pray for all of these college students to have a great semester, to seek wisdom and understanding, and to learn to do all with charity. 

Other updates: Our fourth child is still home for the semester. Her school in Los Angeles is saying students might come back halfway through second semester, but she now has a routine with her online classes, a regular babysitting gig, and a job folding and delivering laundry at the laundromat, so she is saying she wants to wait and start fresh in the fall. I love having her around, so that decision is welcome. I already miss having the older boys around after their extended break. They are pleasant company now; they actually want to sit around the table after dinner and chitchat.  We have certainly eaten well with all the cooks in the kitchen, as well! 

Kids 5 and 6 are still doing high school online, although next week they will go back to school one day a week. Finally. Although I am frustrated with the teachers' unions who somehow, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, still argue that schools are unsafe, when in fact, even Atlantic Monthly is publishing articles saying that schools aren't super-spreaders.  And while the unions refuse to return to school out of false fear - or hope of some gain? - teen suicides are up, child abuse is up, media use is way up, and learning is down.  I am frustrated by all the media, but I like having the kids home. I think I would pick some kind of hybrid learning if I had my first choice.  Two or three days a week of challenging in person learning and 2 or 3 days of homework. 

And number 7? - still easy peasy. She actually likes doing school work. I just ordered a bunch of new workbooks and coloring books because she is happy to do them. I have to sit close by for her to do math and writing, because she doesn't like to make mistakes. I probably should let her make more, but she falls to pieces if she spells something wrong. Other than that, she's doing great. She reads well independently and likes to read. And she LOVES having her big siblings around. She was in tears all morning when her third brother left this morning. 

So today feels like the end of Christmas vacation for real, even though I have been teaching online for three weeks already. This is a five week version of the Nature writing class I taught last year. I trimmed the reading list, replaced some selections, and based on the recommendations of another professor, decided to teach just one day synchronously. Three weeks in, it is too late to add an extra day, but I wish I had two days a week for synchronous learning - it would give more time for discussion and lecture. As it is, we are always running out of time, and I feel rushed to cover material.  I also wish I had scheduled a final instead of two papers. It would give students more motivation to do the reading.  I do feel they are doing a good job doing some of the reading and discussion boards, but  I would prefer a slower pace for our synchronous days.

What I am trying to get at is resolutions! Did I make any? Sort of... I resolved to think of something positive about the day to come each morning before I get out of bed. And get more sleep and more water, as usual - the two fitness goals I never accomplish. I did do a little more weight lifting thiI also want to keep my joints healthy this year. Tendonitis or bursitis in my knee and a calf strain have kept me from running lately - and from shedding the Christmas goodie weight ... 

When I went to look at my resolutions last year, I almost laughed.  Here is what I wrote: 

And now for the traditional New Year's resolution post - what to look forward to in 2020?  When we were talking at dinner about our one best memory of 2019  - even one best thing per month - it was hard to decide. We did a lot of traveling and hosting this year, which must be why even though we have fewer kids at home, we feel just as busy.  I'm hoping 2020 has a slower pace, time to savor the good things.  One of my resolutions is to make photo books - or at least print photos and put them in albums, so we can enjoy them. Part of the fun of travel and adventure is enjoying the memories, and we haven't had time to do that as much. Poor LK loves to look at old photos, but we have so few printed of her life (although she has been photographed more than any of our other children.).

So action item for 2020 - print photos.

My son did print some photos for me - as a Christmas present. A start to a very big job. Another goal was make more memories together. We did get a couple trips in mentioned below, before Dan when to UAE and Covid broke out, and a couple camp-outs, a few hikes, the getaway to Palm Desert, and the quick trip to see the grandparents in OKC. 

Admittedly, however, we are already planning a few trips: one in February for Junior parents' weekend in South Bend, although in this case it is to attend "Expo Roma" for our fourth-year architecture son.  And we are going to visit Pepperdine and Westmont College in late January and February with our senior daughter as she makes college decisions.  

My son did print some photos for me - as a Christmas present. A start to a very big job. We did get these two trips in, before Dan when to UAE and Covid broke out. But that helped me achieve THIS resolution:

So what else? One of the themes that kept coming up during Advent this year was relinquishing control and giving up criticism (which often results during moments when things are out of control). Our priest said in a homily about joy in Advent that the opposite of joy is control.  That cut close. The reflection the sister gave at the retreat I attended spoke about embracing our life as it is, not as we wish it would be - the temptation of wishing things were otherwise. And then in the homily on the Feast of the Holy Family, the priest at the church we were visiting preached about being as kind to our family as we are to strangers, in other words, loving our family for who they are so that we don't discourage each other, as the letter from Paul instructs.  For book club I've been reading Colleen Carroll Campbell's The Heart of Perfection, which contains another message about control.  The message seems pretty clear - control less, love more.

Everyone got a little help in relinquishing control! Still working on this part about using more positive reinforcement, but I have given more hugs - even though physical touch is not my love language either. ...

Since these researchers found that it takes four good interactions to counteract one negative event, I think I need to hearken back to the advice of those relationship experts who recommend paying out more compliments than criticisms, an action that is not native to me.  I'm not much good at the "words of affirmation" love language, but I hereby resolve to engage in more positive reinforcement than negative words.
...
So my spiritual goal is to note the beauty and goodness around me and let my family know more often that I see those qualities in them.

This next goal did NOT happen - unless you count online shows. We watched more streaming shows than ever. 

Another family goal - attend some plays or concerts.  

Although family viewing time grew, family prayer time declined. This is a real sorrow. I still get a decade in with the 6 year old, but I miss the regularity of prayer time with the older kids. I hereby resolve to make this happen during Lent. 

As for academic goals, I did write another paper for a conference. And I am looking into one for this year, and a review. I am so far behind. I need to remind myself of this little gem:  

I need to learn to write faster, and that good enough is good enough - no need to be perfect, a desire for which prevents any writing from getting done.

Our biggest goal this year is discerning the path our future will take outside of the Navy. This decision is going to color the rest of the year. I'm feeling a little mournful about losing some of the perks. Retirees still get a number of privileges - shopping at the commissary, staying at the Navy Lodge, flying Space A. But we will no longer be a part of the community. There will be no one to welcome us at the next "duty station."  It's time - every day my husband comes home to share some frustration at work - but we need to get a handle on a goal or purpose for this next stage. 

So that is a good goal - calm, collected discussion about the future. Not always as easy as it sounds. 2. Family prayer time + plenty of hugs and positive reinforcement 3. More academic writing? or a new job? 4. Sleep, water, stretch 5. Wake up with a positive thought. 

Seeing as 2021 is a month in, I'm behind already - but slow and steady! 

Next post: reading round-up!

A Moment of Silence

Christmas is officially over.  I started taking down our decorations today after we feasted on chicken cacciatore and a buche de Noel for dessert (recipe inspired by the kids' aunt's instagram post and Martha Stewart).  We chalked the doorway after dinner on Sunday, so yesterday felt a little anticlimactic. I think I'll leave the nativity up a few more days, but the tree is down, and the lights are off.  

I should comment that our day was marked by anxious alerts to the news, but it wasn't. We did school in the morning, and then I met some friends at the dog beach for coffee and a dog playdate. Very Californian. I was oblivious to the news most of the day, although one of my friends was getting texts from her husband with updates.  Without pictures or details, the snippets he passed on seemed minor. The security guards will take care of it, we assumed. But at dinner last night, I heard more details from my better informed children and husband about the mob breaching the Capitol and the belated police response and the unbelievable remarks by the president. Not having watched any videos of the event, there is a part of me that still finds it hard to believe that the incident was as bad as the news on the radio today made it sound - with comparisons to coups in El Salvador and predictions about the end of western civilization.  But I also can't believe that people actually believe that the election was rigged and that Trump won the election.  I can't believe that a LOT of people believe that. I can't believe that people still actually support Trump after this. Surely, surely this catastrophe will conclusively end any chance he may have of running again in the future - although it seems common sense is not always common.  This is certainly proof that the echo chambers of the internet have dire consequences. 

Part of my oblivion to current events is because I have been working on my syllabus for a short course in Nature Lit that starts next week - yikes! - and came across the news that both William Kittredge and Barry Lopez passed away in December, Lopez on Christmas day, like my grandfather. I am only passing familiar with Kittredge's work, but Lopez is a favorite.  I usually have one of his essays in my syllabus, but one of my favorite pieces by him is an essay he wrote for Notre Dame Magazine - which perhaps explains my fondness for him. In it, he mentions a priest who mentored him and encourages the students of ND, students with many privileges, to make use of their gifts to help others. A simple reminder, but one that bears repeating.  My husband and I have given back to the community with small acts of service and hospitality and by trying to live out our vocations of leading and teaching, but our efforts often seem inconsequential. Isn't this often the case? Is it an excuse to focus on small acts with great love, as St. Teresa of Calcutta and St. Therese of Lisieux enjoined, or are we called to make greater sacrifices? 

A thorough account of his life and writings can be found at The New York Times. 

And heartfelt comments by his widow were posted on his website here. She mentions the optimism with which he greeted each day. I would like to mimic that optimism in this new year - I have thought that one of my resolutions would be to awake and think of something to be grateful for the day before and something to look forward to in the day ahead. 

As we go forward into the new year, I am thinking about other ways we can give back, especially as we make choices about our next stage in life.  

And if the end of western civilization is at hand, I hope it arrives before we have to make our difficult decisions about what to do next, so that the choice is obvious and no hearts are damaged in the process.

What I did for my Christmas Vacation

Happy Epiphany! Or Happy 10th Day of Christmas! We celebrated yesterday with the church, although I didn't feel quite ready, and we kind of surprised the kids with it. Surprise! The Three Kings have been here! Of  course, only one small person in this house believes in Santa and the Three Kings and other magical visitors, and her belief in them is tenuous as she hears her siblings talk about returning and exchanging their gifts. But she hasn't quite lost the magic. I have sometimes wished we were one of those families who doesn't do Santa Claus because it would make it easier for me to buy gifts, but then again I love the delight and magic. The kids sometimes do get their Christmas wishes - this year's requests: air pods, kitchen knives, a GPS watch, fancy shoes, art supplies, and a swing. 

All month I thought about sitting down and sharing some thoughts on what I was reading, what we were doing, what was going on in the world, but time for musing has been slim, what with end of the term grading, Christmas shopping, cards, and the arrival of the college kids home.  Because our travel was limited this year (except the trip to OKC, which now, three weeks out, continues to be blessedly without illness) and because we had no Christmas parties, no Christmas concerts or performances, no cookie exchanges, no Church events, no extra gift exchanges, I felt like we had  more time to do family things, although those, too, were limited to walking around the neighborhood to look at lights, playing games, and watching a lot of TV together (mostly the Chef show and Broadchurch, plus the regular Christmas movies).  I did join with some of our little kid friends to carol around the block - although I think this was illegal. And we took a couple of hikes and met up with the cousins for a beach picnic that included a turkey cooked in the air fryer, squash and potatoes roasted on the campfire, and a delicious salad. A beach Christmas dinner. The cousins went home after sunset, but we stayed to camp in the only torrential downpour all year.  The boys ended up sleeping in the car, but the tent the girls and I were in only leaked a little around the edges. Proof of a good tent - this one is the Hobbitat from REI. 

We have also done more than our fair share of eating - the kids have been in a pseudo competition for who has the best kitchen skillz.  We have had home made bao dumplings and sushi - thanks to a friend who shared her deep sea catch - and homemade boba, complemented by mochi and kimchi from the Asian grocery.  I had just watched "Sweet Bean" with LK, which was a sweet Japanese film, a bit slow moving, about a dorayaki chef and the old woman who comes to help him with his red bean paste filling, so they also bought some prepackaged dorayaki.  Then we have had several smoked meat dinners: smoked tri-tip, smoked ribs, a smoked turkey. For Christmas dinner, we had prime rib. Homemade pasta was another feast. Add to these rich dinners, a large array of Christmas sweets, both made by our kids or shared by neighbors.  The new year should be time to cut back on these riches. 

I did want to sum up some reading over the past month - despite the full schedule, I did finish a number of books, possibly because they were plot driven quick reads and because I was helped by PMS insomnia and a need for a brain break after reading fifty-five first year composition research papers.  But now I am out of time. More in another post. 

Caroling

Christmas masks 

A "hike" around the neighborhood

God's Christmas lights

The owner of Funco Pop's house

Christmas Eve feast - dessert first! Pies for all

All the lights lit for Christmas dinner

The obligatory stairs photo

Thanks, Santa.

Fancy china for prima rib. Thankful for kids who help set out and wash the good stuff.

Legos for everyone.

A new swing! These have popped up around the neighborhood since the parks closed, and are happily shared when they hang near the side walk. 

Lots of beach time.

Christmas beach time with the cousins.

Forced Family Fun and Fitness. hashtag F to the 4th.

Unforced family fun - old classics coming back around. Pictured here: Mousetrap. Also played; Coronadopoly, Telestrations, and new Life. 

And eat!

 

Prepare the way

Tonight we'll have all nine of us under one roof again for the first time in a while - July?  Holiday jollity will ensue, to an extent.  Our plans for Christmas are subdued, like everyone else's. We'll go to Mass outside on Christmas Eve in the early evening - no midnight Mass.  We'll open lots of presents on Christmas morning, we'll watch some Christmas movies and eat lots of Christmas treats, and then we'll have a big feast on roast beast before sharing desserts with our friends whom we've seen regularly throughout - our quaranteam friends, or whatever cute name you want to call the people you feel safe gathering with.  I've resisted offering invitations to anyone (although I've been tempted and have considered ways to gather safely in the back yard with small groups - book club was gathering until this month because CA went back in the purple tier, and it's getting too dark and chilly to sit outside).  We obviously haven't had any work Christmas parties, or school Christmas concerts, or Church Christmas events.  I actually have the shopping done early. And Christmas cards are ready to go except for a few I mean to put notes in.  

To capture a bit of the Christmas spirit we have walked around the neighborhood in the early evenings to view the lights. We looked at the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn - but you can see better photos elsewhere. We've made and eaten  lots of cookies and delivered some to friends in the neighborhood. We've decorated our house and lit the Advent wreath, eaten the chocolates in the calendar, set out some of the Jesse tree pieces -more than usual, and had some feasts in honor of saints - but mainly because the kids wanted to try out new recipes and have an excuse to go to the Asian grocery and the Mexican mercado and the Italian market.  Having bored young adults around has kept us well fed. 

I hesitate to admit, but record here in the interest of our family record, that we did do something risky and probably unwise, but escaped unscathed. We took a trip to see my in-laws, whom we hadn't seen in 18 months. I had purchased the tickets at the end of October when cases were down and things were opening up, and the tickets were dirt cheap.  My thinking was that travel would be light between Thanksgiving and Christmas, although that reasoning didn't take into account the number of people who travel to ski destinations.  As the date of our trip approached and coronavirus cases began to skyrocket around the nation, I grew more and more apprehensive. We called the in-laws to cancel and offered to postpone our trip, but the grandparents were encouraging, and my husband didn't want to disappoint them. And the college kids who came home after Thanksgiving were encouraging. They had just returned from a campus of about 12,000 that had just under 2,000 cases over the semester. A large number, but according to them, the people who caught the virus (I almost wrote "got sick" but many of them weren't sick) were those who went to parties or hung out in each others' rooms without masks. The mask wearers/distancers rarely were infected. So they trusted the protocols.  As did my husband who goes to work every day with thousands of other service members who are compelled to follow government regulations. His command has had a handful of cases, but all were transmitted outside of work.  So he, too, trusted the protocols of masking, distancing, and washing hands.

Since what is in motion stays in motion unless a stronger opposing force halts the forward movement, we went on our trip.  In preparation, we cut off what few social events we have - walks around the neighborhood, meeting for coffee, beach trips with friends for the kids - and other than my husband going to work and trips to the grocery store, we quarantined for about ten days and got tested; all were negative.  The airports and planes were more crowded than I had expected, but 99% of people wore their masks and kept their distance.  Of course, the couple in front of me had to be reminded more than once by the stewardess to cover their noses and to keep their little girl's mask up, so they had me anxious the whole time. During our layover we went to the USO and stayed in a corner until our next flight.  But I was still a nervous wreck.  

Once we arrived at my in-laws, I tried to be mindful and reminded the kids to wash their hands frequently and watch their spacing. We did hug a few times, but I am afraid I was not especially warm company.  Our visit was only four days, and we spent them at my in-laws' house, playing games, watching movies, playing Nerf wars. We had a Thanksgiving/Christmas dinner one day.  On our fourth day, a beautiful, wet snow fell all night long. It blanketed the yard about 4 inches deep by the time we awoke. Our youngest was ecstatic, and the olders excited.  It was the perfect snow for snowman making and snowball fights, so the whole family bundled up the minimal winter gear we had brought or that Gram had stashed away and ran out for a rousing snowball fight.  When the snow was still falling after lunch, my husband began to pace and our fourteen year old, who already has a phobia about flying, began to whimper about plane delays and crashes.  But our 7 pm flight left on time, not quite as full, and our return trip was safe and uneventful.

A couple days after we got home, we all got tested again.  Negative x7. (Our oldest in Arizona couldn't go, and my husband didn't test because of different protocols.) I breathed a little easier, and now that it has been two weeks since our return I am even more at ease. I am a little sorry I wasn't more affectionate during our visit, but I am not writing this to encourage people to travel.  Our experience does give me more faith in the safety claims of airlines, but the numbers continue to rise, and just because we escaped the bullet this time doesn't mean we would the next time.  

I'd like to offer some better meaningful reflection on our trip, but I've got to finish those cards and say good morning to my children.  I've written and deleted a few sentences about my thoughts about this trip but I can't quite articulate what.  I'd like to think of something in the Christmas spirit to do today, but one wants to go to the DMV for a driver's permit test today. I don't know if I can manage it today, but sooner than I am ready, we'll have 5 licensed drivers in the family.  I wonder if I will ever be quite ready for Christmas, and life... 

A neighbor's Christmas fountain planting

 

Lights around the 'hood

Modelling a new dress made by our neighbor

 

Snow! The first morning tracks...

Oliver

The yard post-snowball war

One of many feasts - chicken parmesan

Tree decorating

At least one person is still exciting about St. Nicholas day

Handknit sweater concocted by college son done with school and ready to create

Week 1 - how did 3 more weeks pass so quickly? 

A quiet evening on the beach.