March Madness

 Despite the title of this post, I don't really follow basketball, but our son just started playing. His first game was last night. They lost, but he had fun being on the court. It seems March came in like a lamb and is going out like a lion.  The month started quietly enough, but here we are at the end of March with a full calendar.

As a "Journal of the Plague Year," this blog hasn't functioned very well. I am an unreliable reporter. As we have passed the one year anniversary of the initial lockdown, it seems appropriate to stop and reflect, but I don't have time to gather big thoughts about the world, and only a minute to reflect on how our lives have changed, which is as much as a great many people's, and probably in relative terms, about as much as they usually change in a year.  The biggest shift has been having the high schoolers at home doing Zoom school and having more family time, which has been wonderful. The kids have been more pleasant than usual. We haven't moved or had a major life change, as some people have, nor have we lost any family members, thankfully.  My husband is looking for a new job, but not because he lost his.  I had a long list of projects I was going to complete with all of this free time, and none of them has been finished. 

Now the kids are back at school two days a week. Many California public schools remain closed, but our district is small and well-endowed, so teachers were amenable to returning, even though the state teachers' unions still are fighting against returning to their jobs. Many teachers still teach from home, because half of the students are still are Zoom. Sports, however, are going full force, with practice every day and games on Fridays for football and throughout the week for basketball. Cross Country season lasted 5 weeks and is already over, but track has begun. Church is back inside. Religious education has started up again in small groups.  We have some social events on the calendar. My husband is vaccinated. We are traveling at the end of the month. Life is almost back to normal.

I know in other states life is almost completely back to pre-pandemic normal, but it is hard to shed the perception that danger lurks in every breath and on every surface. Masks and hand sanitizer will likely remain in use here for a while longer. I have a friend who just caught Covid a couple weeks ago, and one who got it in between her two shots. The first friend just lost her sense of smell; the second was pretty sick. Neither knows anyone they came in contact with who had been sick. And both are fully recovered.

Aside from the return to school and activities, the big issue commanding attention around here is my husband's job search.  He has had some interviews, and jobs are available, but not in the number that we had hoped. My top choice for him is a job for a university that has a hiring freeze. This lack of openings is one of the most challenging parts of the pandemic for us personally. He will find a job, but it may not be the job that I envisioned.  We are going to have some hard decisions to make about what to do next. I keep hoping that just the right thing will miraculously show up, but that hasn't happened yet, despite our pleas to St. Joseph.  We have been working on some discernment tools to help navigate this decision, and I know everything will work out, but I am having to let go of some romantic ideals.  The reality is our family life has shifted quite a bit since those romances first formed in my imagination, so those visions are ghosts, anyway.   

I return to the classroom next month for the second quad term, so I have some to do items on my job, too. I prefer the classroom for teaching, but will miss the ease of teaching from home. So now back to work. Below are some pictures from the last month. Spring is in the air, and I've been welcoming the return of our pink flowers around the house.  Lent is nearing its conclusion, all too soon; I still have more inner conversions to work on! But the kids are beginning to plan our Easter feast.  The difference between this Lent and last Lent is startling in retrospect. What will next year bring? 

A full calendar for this one: Swimming, ballet, religious ed, library visits and playdates

Hiking locally

A rock scramble to the top

The little free libraries in town celebrated the National Day of Unplugging with a scavenger hunt.

We visited 6 of the 12 or so in our town to find prizes - some of which we left for the next hunter, since we don't need more bookmarks and rubber band bracelets.

This one lives in a particularly colorful garden.

Seabee ball at home. Little did I know that when I skipped the ball two years ago to go on retreat, I wouldn't get to go again. Maybe someday we'll go as retirees.

Signs of spring

The climbing rose smells heavenly.

But its delicate blossoms don't do well as cut flowers.

I have kalanchoe in 5 colors around the house, but this is my favorite.

Runners!

Spoiled mongrel.

Hike 2. Three Sisters Falls.

This was great time of year to do this hike - it's often dry.

Hellebore on the path.

Lupine starting to bloom

A misty day kept crowds down and made greenery look magical.

To the desert

We just spent a few of our forty days of Lent in the real desert. Last weekend we took a trip to Tucson, Arizona, to see our oldest son.  The drive is about six hours, but other than a little traffic slowing us down leaving San Diego, the roads were wide open.  We've been planning this trip for weeks, but kept pushing the dates back because of this and that, until finally we decided to make it happen, although the visit was a shorter than we would have liked. But we did have time to share a few meals, get out on a hike in the hills around the city, and spend time with our adult son and his fiancée.  His apartment was tidy, if a little bare - my husband hung some pictures for him. And although the whole fam wasn't together, it's always comforting to have more of our group together than usual. 

The dog was a great traveler. I was a little nervous about how the change of scenery would affect him, but he didn't seem phased.  He's just happy to be with his people. And he didn't jump around in the car like this photo seems to suggest - he curled up in the back seat with the girls and slept the whole trip. This was just after a break at Dateland to get gas and snacks - our favorite oasis on the I-10 roadtrip.

Windmill farms on the way home.

Since our son's apartment is small, we stayed at Davis Montham Airforce base in their temporary lodgings. We had a little two bedroom house outfitted with a dog crate and dishes, and, to the delight of our youngest, it had a covered wagon at the playground.

AZ's state tree - the palo verde.

An ancient face ready to speak the wisdom of the Saguaro

At a certain elevation, we entered a new ecosystem, moving from desert to grassland with scruffy shrubbery. Another trail nearby with higher elevation shifts to a pine forest according to our future daughter-in-law, but we didn't have the time or willing participants for a longer hike. 

Resting near the site of a "waterfall" or tiny trickle. 

The sky really is blue here. The initial ascent was fairly steep.

No daffodils, but spring poppies were in bloom.

 

Beyond midwinter

The big storms in Texas last month occurred days after my husband submitted his resume for a job in Austin.  My good friend, who is hoping we will stay here, used the beautiful blue sunny skies of Southern California as proof we should stay here. And I won't deny that I don't love being able to walk out the door nearly every day to soak up some sun. Maybe it is a little chillier one day than the next this time of year. At night we pull on sweatshirts and comfy slippers. But the weather does little to interrupt our plans.

Except yesterday.  I was watering the garden boxes this morning, when my daughter peeked outside to tell me it was supposed to rain. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, so I kept watering, but by 10 am, the sky was ominously gray, and by 11, we had a downpour. And it continued to rain all day. I had two appointments and was late both times because traffic was slower than I anticipated, once because of a fender bender already on the side of the road. 

Driving in the rain here is dangerous.  Carrying groceries in during the rain is a hassle. But it is thrilling.  My middle daughter walked around all day in a robe. We ate popcorn and watched a movie after dinner, even though it was midweek. The youngest went to another home schooling friend's house - we usually play out in the yard a couple days a week as a bribe for them to get their school work done, but they, too, curled up on the couch with blankets and a movie and hot chocolate. Practices were cancelled. The dog doesn't want his long afternoon walk.  We milked the cold and blustery day for all the hygge we could muster from it. 

I mentioned the Onbeing transcripts in my last post; the podcast in particular that I was thinking about was one on "wintering" that a friend had forwarded after we talked about anticipating Lent. The interview is with Katherine May, an Englishwoman who wrote a book by the title Wintering about the importance of seasons of "rest and retreat," in which we figuratively or literally hibernate and soak up ideas. I think of Leo Lionni's Frederick who soaks up the sun all summer and then recites poetry to his mousy companions all winter long, bringing them a different kind of nourishment.  I think of my own desire to reorient during Lent, a pause from the usual, even if it's done badly. I have often expressed a longing for the change of seasons that we miss when we live in these sunny, temperate or tropical climes where there is no pause to the sunshine except the occasional shower. Not even thunderstorms.  Santa surfs or wears Hawaiian shirts and rides a carabao. 

There are no intense seasonal markers for spring, for the Resurrection, either, which is perhaps one of the best parts of winter - the time of rebirth that follows.  Of course, after our rainy day, we actually appreciated the sunshine. I saw a couple sitting in the park across the street just soaking up warmth. (Maybe they were afraid to go to the beach after the drama of a particularly violent domestic abuse incident there a few days ago.) 

If Katherine May were Catholic or of another liturgical faith, perhaps she would have written a book about Lent. But using the poetic term "wintering" shifts our perspective and makes our imagination work a little harder.  What does she mean? What is this season really about? She describes it as a period of germination, a time of "reflection and recuperation, for slow replenishment." It's a time of transformation, which is really what Lent is about, a giving up of distractions, stepping away from busyness, turning inward, observing, listening instead of talking, so that we might experience Easter as a true renewal. 

May takes a more expansive than religious view of this practice, often forced upon us, as it has been during the pandemic.  Her lovely voice reveals to her readers the benefits of a winter season for self-improvement, but why do we keep trying to improve ourselves? That peace we are yearning for, that restored communion with ourselves and with our neighbors, is a yearning that feeds the religious impulse. And it finds sustenance in the practice of reliving Easter.  But too often our ways of describing faith are cluttered with overused tropes and metaphors. Even now I can't find the words.

So I'll leave off here. My brief time for reflection is over. The sun is out again; our day of resting on the couch with blankets a comfort, but one I realize is a luxury when compared to the real cold experienced by our family and friends in Texas who lost their power for days. My sister in law talked about not being able to get out of bed because it was so cold. While we play at winter, many people suffer it. Does it help or frustrate to say that spring will come? 

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!