Mostly, I still feel like I’m in my early to mid 30s. Thirty – now THAT birthday felt monumental: buying a new house, switching jobs. A lot changed that year.
This year? We’re still stuck in a pandemic. I’ve felt on hold for the last 12 months. Maybe I can just skip this birthday?
No, of course not. But mentally, I’m not 40. Perhaps it’s denial. Halfway through life, I feel like I’ve done a tremendous amount of things. Knowing me, I’ve got many more projects on the horizon.
Like my “Thirty Six” project. I just remembered I have that one still unfinished. Time to look through some film photos from four years ago…
In March, we planned on remodeling our bedroom. And boy, did it need it: wood paneling, dark, drop ceiling. In all fairness to the previous owners, it used to be a back porch. Then it became a bedroom, but that was decades ago. Now it’s our turn to make it right.
Why not start now? We need something lighter and sunnier in our lives right now. Sure, it means we have to sleep in our breezeway for the time being. It means contractors in the house, with their noise and drywall dust. But we’re considering this project our early Christmas present.
Everything is harder these days. My photography has certainly taken a hit. I feel it in my bones – a kind of creator’s guilt, ever-present. Not much blogging, not much newsletter-ing, not much of anything. With the pandemic and the post-election stress, it’s been hard to wake up in the morning, let alone take photos.
Now we have a new look to our bedroom, and with the light coming in, it felt like a good excuse to get out the camera and document the progress.
These days, it’s easy to appreciate whoever came up with, “Children should be seen and not heard.”
It’s barbaric, of course, especially now that we recognize children are miniature people. They have thoughts and feelings. They’re more than field workers or inconveniences.
Still, with every minute of every day spent with the kids, it’s an adjustment. Before, we worked all day, and we spent time with the kids in the evenings or on the weekends. Now it’s all day, every day.
Soon there will be no school work, no Zoom class meetings, no nothing. Just unstructured summertime. Luckily we’re in a nice time of year when staying outside and playing is a possibility.
Outside also means avoiding social media and the news. The kids don’t have any idea what’s going on in the world today. If they did, it’d be difficult to answer their questions. The virus? They know about that. They know its name. Everything else? Blissfully unaware.
Working as I do, each day at the kitchen table, I can watch them play in the backyard and live out their own adventures. They are little people, and as much as that old English saying makes me laugh, I don’t believe it. I didn’t get to hear it so much before. It’s good to hear them out there, playing and laughing and crying.
Inside, I can barely work because of my anxiety at the state of the world. Better for them to be outside.
We have our routine down pretty well now. Wake up, eat, check-in, watch some TV, do live stream music with mom, go outside, lunch, quiet time, back outside, dinner, play, bed. Repeat.
Work is definitely challenging these days. The kids are feeling cooped up. It’s hard not to chat with the neighbors, except from a distance. And the streets are so quiet.
Every day we’re a little more anxious about everything: our health, our families, the economy, the Executive Branch’s dipshit handling of the whole situation. We feel phantom symptoms and worry. We’re trying to make the groceries we bought two weeks ago last a bit longer.
I did start a new batch of cider. I took a photo field trip that I hope to share later. The weather is warming up, so I’m sitting on the front porch listening in on conference calls while the kids dig their bikes out of the garage.
Every little thing helps us not think about every big thing.
Everything’s weird. From the power continuing the flicker, to the quiet streets, to the strange sense of calm – inside the house, you wouldn’t know the world is working its way through a pandemic crisis.
I’m working from home most days. I one of the lucky ones whose work sits on a laptop, mostly. Though I did travel in today (a Friday) just to get some fresh air and get out of the house for a bit. The parking lot is nearly empty.
At home, the kids don’t know any better. For them, it’s a longer spring break, and – strange for them – more time with dad at home. I did my best to set up a new routine that includes fresh air, some form of learning exercise (disguised as art projects), and some pick-up at the end of the day.
We’re as prepared as we can be for the long haul.
[All photos shot on my iPhone SE and edited in Filmborn.]
Not that I need another one, but I started a new hobby: cider making.
Luckily, our neighbors and the in-laws have apple trees weighed down with apples this year. That meant plenty of fruit for the juicing and fermenting I had in mind.
I’ve long been a cider fan – an apple fan in general – and consider owning an orchard one of my retirement goals. Somewhere along the line, I got the bug to try my hand and making my own hard cider, taking advantage of all the modern brew making equipment and methods. Right here in town, we have a home brewery store with all the supplies I need. That, with some online advice, and I could easily give a batch a try.
There’s a lot to do: wash the apples, juice the apples, sterilize the equipment, add the yeast, feed the yeast, etc.
But first, I had to grab six little hands to help me pick and wash apples from the neighborhood.
