SOLSC '20 Day Thirty-one: Thank you notes

Dear Slicing Community,
Thank you for your inspiration, comments, and support for the last thirty-one days.  This is my eighth year of participating in the SOLSC, and the first time I never once lacked for a writing idea, even if it was just the form I would use for the day.  (This may also be due to another circumstance, but that's the next thank-you note.)  Poetry, memoir, six by six, photo walks...this community proves that true, meaningful writing is so much more than a five sentence paragraph, five paragraph essay, write-as-much-as-you-can-to-this-test-prompt-on-a-topic-you-can't-relate-to.  You held me accountable just by being present each and every day this month, commenting on my posts and responding to my comments.  You've made me a better, more thoughtful writer.  

Beyond the writing, it was the delightful search for connections with you that brightened my days.  Travels, classroom aha!s, laments, former pets, nature noticings...every day there seemed to be a shared experience.  A word in your teasers or titles would spark a memory and send me over to your blog to see what we have in common.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!--Chris

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Dear COVID-19,
Thank you for being such a source of inspiration for my eighth year of participating in the SOLSC.  On March first, I had no idea and no real plan for what to write about for thirty-one days.  (I am, after all, a seat-of-the-pants Slicer.)  But then you showed up, and bam!  Slice after slice after slice was influenced by your arrival and continuing presence.  The changes you caused grew exponentially as the days went by, first weekly, then daily, then almost hourly until they encroached on our living and working routines.  You may be a physical manifestation, but you have wreaked emotional responses by causing the separation of families and shortages in food, toilet paper, and more importantly, medical supplies.  You've also brought out the best in people, bringing tears to our eyes over displays of gratitude and acts of kindness.  And when emotions run high or low, writers write.

So thank you, COVID-19, for your persistence in controlling our lives this month.  You've given us plenty to write about.

--Chris

SOLSC '20 Day Thirty: Carney Park

"Post a picture of your travels" a friend prompted.  "We can take a virtual trip around the world."  She posted a picture from England, another from Paris.

I've lived in Paris (well, for a few months, as a baby).  And Bangkok, Naples, Stuttgart.  We took trips to wonderful places while we lived overseas, thanks to my adventurous parents.  I ran around Pompeii before I could name all our state capitals.

Wonderful trips, historic places...but the first place that popped into my head at my friend's prompt was Carney Park.

Carney Park was and still is an American military recreation center in Pozzuoli, Italy, outside of Naples.  It has the unusual distinction of being located inside an extinct volcano.  

I remember being fascinated by this fact as a child.  We would drive over what looked like a small hill into this huge park.  Standing in place and slowly spinning around, you realize that the small hills are on all sides...you really are in a crater.

We had lots of good times in this park.  My mother learned to drive stick shift in the parking lot of the drive-in movie theater as my brother and I played on a swing set.  My Girl Scout troop held annual Father-Daughter campouts on the campgrounds--it always seemed to rain on those weekends.  The Army-Navy baseball game was held on the Fourth of July, with fireworks after the game was over; I vaguely remember a streaker ran across the field one year, just before the lights went out.

I'm glad Carney Park is still up and running.  The current website shows cabins for rent now, a fitness center, wifi.  The baseball diamonds, soccer fields and golf course are still there,as well as the pool; I don't see the drive-in theater in the description or pictures.

Carney Park in Pozzuoli, Italy...my place to remember today.

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty-nine: It's only been....

• It's only been eighty-nine days since China released news about an outbreak of pneumonia.
• It's only been eighty-one days since The New York Times reported on the virus.
• It's only been forty-seven days since COVID-19 was named by the World Health Organization.
• It's only been twenty-nine days since Nicholas Kristof asked "Is This the Big One?".
• It's only been twenty-seven days since we were asked to think about international travel.
• It's only been twenty-six days since the first news of toilet paper shortages in stores.
• It's only been twenty-four days since the NICU cancelled its volunteers.
• It's only been eighteen days since our annual state library conference was cancelled, and I started receiving emails from hotel and theater chains about their sanitizing efforts.
• It's only been seventeen days since the school field day was cancelled, and our son's college announced it would close in-person classes the following week and begin transitioning to online classes.
• It's only been sixteen days since we went shopping with our collegeboy to stock him up on food and yes, toilet paper.
• It's only been fourteen days since we cut our spring break road trip short.
• It's only been thirteen days since our school district officially closed through April 3rd.
• It's only been seven days since my first online meeting with campus colleagues.
• It's only been five days since Austin enacted shelter-in-place restrictions, and I hurried to my campus to pick up supplies.
• It's only been four days since our school district extended its closure through April 13th, and online teaching and learning became a reality.
• It's only been three days since I began working with a team to put a teacher-help site together.
• It's only been a day since I finally made a video to say hi to my students, to tell them how much I miss them.

Who knows how many days it will be until I see them in person again.
I've learned that a lot can happen in only eighty-nine days, or eighteen, or four...

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty-eight: Thoughts in orbit

A friend of mine shared an article from National Geographic about astronaut Chris Cassidy's return to the International Space Station.  He's been twice before, and is looking forward to seeing familiar faces.  

This will be the first time that you've been back to the International Space Station since 2013. What are you most looking forward to about returning?
I'm really looking forward to seeing familiar faces—floating through the hatch and seeing Drew and Jessica [NASA astronauts Andrew Morgan and Jessica Meir] and giving them a big hug. That's a great moment. Those emotions, if you see them on TV—the smiles and the laughing—are real. We're friends, colleagues, and coworkers, but also we're humans who are experiencing something super cool together. That first couple hours, I can't wait to experience that.

Of course, looking out the window is always fantastic, but we'll have limited handover time [before Morgan and Meir return to Earth], so I just want to soak up their experience for that week before they disappear on me a few days later.

(by Michael Greshko, accessed 3/28/20)

He is looking forward to seeing his friends.

Think about that. We've reached an era of space travel in which we now have a decent-sized community of people with repeated shared experiences in orbit. This isn't just a once-in-a-generation moon landing anymore. These people are working like you and me, only with a longer commute and a high level of social distancing (pun intended).

With all the weirdness going on in our world today, it's nice to know that the now "normal" work of the astronauts of the ISS continues.  Pretty amazing, when you stop and think about it.  

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty-seven: Need to get a grip in six by six

Up past bedtime reading last night.

Ignored alarms and woke up "late".

Late for what?  Days have changed.

Summer hours in spring...doesn't fit.

I crave some kind of routine.

Next week, I will do better.



I was inspired by Book Dragon's six by six word post yesterday.  Since I tend to be wordy when I write, I wanted to try to do the same.  Not much inspiration this morning, other than waking up and hour and a half later than I would have liked.  When one is only seen from the chest up in online meetings, though, preparation for work can take on a different meaning....

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty-six: This work from home thing

Yesterday was better than the day before.

The day before, I was discombobulated by a change in plans, a long meeting, technology issues.  I self-medicated with a McDonald's #2 breakfast meal (Sausage-Egg McMuffin with cheese, hash browns, large Diet Coke) after the scurry into school for supplies, and a DQ Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Blizzard, size medium, after the long meeting and tech finagling.  This furlough has not been good for my waistline.  I was exhausted by evening, but not the good kind of exhausted after a fulfilling, productive day; a grumpy, bad exhaustion like Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.  I had buttered popcorn for dinner, just to cap off the day of unhealthy eating.

Yesterday, I got up a bit earlier.  I made my coffee, read, prayed, wrote a Slice and commented on a few posts.  I started a load of laundry, did a quick aerobic indoor workout, and had a wonderfully productive Google Hangout with my ITS (despite some tech issues).  We made plans for tutorials and our broadcast team, in case we move to distance learning.  I was able to support some teachers via email.  I gained remote access to important library functions, and have a list of tasks to accomplish.

Yesterday, I spent time in the sun.  I walked around the block during one break, swept and hosed down the front porch during another, read a professional book while sitting on the back porch.  I ate some veggies and fruit, and even cooked dinner, ready just in time for my husband's return from work.  It was nice to sit and enjoy a meal together, after a few days of just picking through the leftovers in the fridge before he came home.  I ended the day by posting my usual Wednesday library blog, as sad as it was without anything to actually report from the library itself, though I did include directions for accessing our ebook collection. 

I'm still unsure how this work from home thing will look if we begin distance teaching and learning.  But yesterday was a good start, a balance of computer time and fresh air, healthy food and food for my mind and spirit.  If this continues past April 13th, though, I may be asking for a standing desk at home; my waistline, back, and hips weren't built for this much sitting.

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty-five: Six degrees of COVID-19

I really, really wanted to write something other than a COVID-19 related post today.  

A story from the past, maybe about the time I lived in Italy for three years as a child...but wait, Italy is in the throes of a COVID crisis right now.  Zero COVID-19 degrees.

Oh, I know--a teaching story from the beginning years, lucky to start with four students in my resource room housed in a portable.  But that has to do with my current career as well; I'll give it one COVID-19 degree, since I'm a librarian now.

Hmmm, a post about my former pets growing up?  Makes me think of the animal shelters fostering out dogs and cats as they are having to shut down...I know someone who is fostering a dog.  Shall we give it it three COVID-19 degrees?

Anything about my current job and lifestyle is definitely a zero degree situation.  Working from home, staying at home, going for walks in the middle of what would be a workday just to get my usual steps in (that's my goal for today, anyway)--all COVID-19 related. 

The one factor offering a few more degrees of separation is my personal health and that of my family and friends.  No one in my personal circles is sick (knock on wood).  We don't know if we're carriers or not.  In light of that unknowing, I'm going to pretend that COVID-19 is beyond six degrees of separation.  Hopefully it will remain so, as we live our separate lives.

(If you're not familiar with the "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon", here's a link that explains the game.  There is also an interesting play/ movie called "Six Degrees of Separation"--not meant for children. This is all based on the premise that we are all connected within six degrees of separation--hence the need for social distancing during a pandemic.)

(GIF by Toby Morris and Siouxsie Wiles.  More illustrations here.)

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty-four: Grab and go

The original plan was to  schedule a time between Wednesday and Friday to pick up personal items and supplies, clean out the fridge, etc.  Thirty minutes tops, in and out.  Only ten folks in allowed at a time.

And then the shelter-in-place news came, smack dab in the middle of the very (virtual) meeting yesterday in which we were discussing these details.  It was decided that the signup would not go out until the exact requirements of the shelter-in-place were known.  

I woke up, did my usual routine of making coffee and emptying the dishwasher, reading while the coffee brewed, and checking my home email.  "I'll just pop on over to my work email to see if the signup schedule has been posted," I thought to myself.

The official word had been posted: shelter-in-place would start Wednesday at 12am.  Our principal sent an email past my bedtime amending the schedule to pick up supplies--and it started at 630a, today.  

I wanted to be one of the first groups in, so I could unlock the library door and display a signout sheet for materials in case teachers needed books.  I signed up for the 815a slot.  By 845a, this is what was being loaded into my car.

No early morning Slicing, no exercise, no second cup of coffee.  But I do have peace of mind, knowing that I'll be earning my pay over the next two weeks as I process books and support my teachers.

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty-three: Self care when I'm not in the mood

A few days ago, a fellow Slicer invited us to a virtual self-care party.  Leigh Anne Eck prompted us to share three self-care tips with our writing community.

The COVID-19 crisis hit just as our Spring Break was beginning.  It affected our visit with our son that first weekend; we spent much of the time making sure he was stocked up on food and toilet paper, since he decided to stay the course in his apartment and work on his virtual classes there.  The rest of the week was gray and gloomy, as was my mood; not depressed, per se, but unmotivated to complete even the most basic of spring break tasks I had set aside for myself.  Since we are empty-nesting, I was the only person I had to entertain and keep busy, and I didn't do a very good job of it.  I spent the days in silence, reading a bit here and there and playing a LOT of solitaire and mahjong games on the computer.

By Friday I had enough of this slump.  I called a friend and talked for an hour.  I loaded up the CD player with 70s music; Simon and Garfunkel, Gordon Lightfoot, England Dan and John Ford Coley, Carole King, and John Denver worked their magic, and my mood began to lift.  

Here are my three self-care practices I'm putting in place for the coming weeks away from school:

1)  Music, and lots of it.  I think I needed the silence that first week, an antidote to the noise of school from the week before and the noise from the media every night as we turn on the news.  But I am used to background music in the library, so I will be raiding the tall stacks of CDs at home to play and sing along.

2)  Planning.  I didn't touch my planner during spring break.  You would think this was a good thing, but it left me unmoored--which would be wonderful if I was by the beach, but not so great stuck at home.  I started mapping out my week ahead yesterday, as much as I could.  Writing out plans helps me remember that there are things I can control, things I can do to move forward, when there is so much happening beyond my control right now.  My plans include home care, exercise, work-related tasks, and creative pursuits.  Colored markers and stickers make planning fun!

3)  Learning.  I have so much professional reading to catch up on, and now's the perfect time to do it.  I'm also going to sign up for that Yale course on well-being that everyone's talking about.  I'm keeping up with my Duolingo exercises in Spanish and Japanese.  And I'm toying with the idea of learning how to play the children's guitar we have, gathering dust in the living room, via YouTube.  We'll see if I get around to that!

I hope others find these tips helpful.  As for my hostess gift--I've got a box full of Bath and Bodyworks scented handsoaps to help us all get through this major handwashing phase of our lives.

Here's to fragrant hands and lifted spirits, Slicers!

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty-two: Documenting the weirdness

The wannabe archival librarian in me wants to take a moment to document the weirdness during this time of COVID-19--the social distancing, changes in behavior and mood, communications from work and retailers, the ways in which we are working (or not)--in our household.

Social distancing--My husband and I are pretty much keeping to ourselves at home.  We are checking in with family and friends by phone, chatting with neighbors as we see each other collecting mail, and only shopping when we need something (though truth be told, I spent a little extra time, and a bit more extra money, at WalMart the other day, happy to be out and about!).  Our college son has opted to stay in his apartment for the time being; campus cafeterias are still running, classes are going online, and he is filling in his free time playing "Animal Planet" with his sister and brother-in-law, who live in Japan.

Behavior/ mood--We're pretty realistic in our home, not prone to fear or panic unless the experts indicate otherwise.  Since our family and friends are all healthy at the moment, we are only worried about them staying healthy--and they are all taking the appropriate measures to do so, which alleviates much of our worry.  I was definitely more aware of my actions when I went to WalMart for the first time since this began.  Do I dare sniffle?  Is it safe to browse through clothes on hangers, touching each item to find the right size?  Did I or didn't I just touch my face?  I also took advantage of using the restroom there (a bit more toilet paper saved at home!) and yes, washed my hands thoroughly, used a paper towel to open the door.

I finally started listening to music again, reading books just for fun, planning creative activities, so my mood is lifting a bit.  Not joyful, but I'm coming out of the fog/ funk I've been feeling this past week.  Chatting with friends and family on the phone has helped!

Work--My husband is going to work each weekday in his machining shop, but the boss is making sure they are stocked with hand sanitizer and cleaning wipes. Our school district sent out plans to cover the next two weeks of furlough, and my principal is sending out campus-specific plans, so those bases are covered for now.  I've got a list going of what I need to pick up this week from my library and what tasks I can do from home, passing along any information I'm given from library services to my teachers. 

Retailers--I shop a bit (okay, too much) online, and my inbox is full of emails from retailers who are letting customers know how their businesses are being affected by COVID-19.  Most are shuttering brick-and-mortar stores for the time being, assuring us that their employees are still getting paid.  A few have even begun to shut down their online sales, to keep manufacturing employees safe.  Most of these emails I've received are coming from clothing sites, and heaven knows I've got more than enough clothes for this and many more lifetimes to come.  I'm taking this as a sign that my birthday month of spending needed to come to an end. 

So there's our past week of weirdness. Thanks to Kevin Hodgson for the inspiration to document what our corner of the world is looking like these days.
    

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty-one: We have a plan

The district sent an email to staff and parents yesterday; we now have a plan to move forward.  To make learning opportunities equitable for our confirmed two-week furlough, there will be suggested activities posted on the district website and packets handed out to families picking up breakfast and lunch at designated meal sites.  This makes me feel better; I work at a higher-SES campus with technology available in almost every home, but my Title I roots are fully aware of the many schools in which this is not a reality.

Teachers will also be given a scheduled time to go to their schools and gather materials to plan further out, should the need arise.  This also makes me feel better.  I am ready to go with activities for my upper grades.  We have our end-of-year Google Form library survey to complete, traditionally done when I'm away at my annual conference (which was supposed to be this coming week).  The next lessons on internet safety can be completed through games--Google's Interland for my fourth and fifth graders, and Common Sense Media's Digital Passport Game for my third graders.  For my younger students, however, my lessons are interactive read-alouds...and I'm a paper-and-pencil planner for those, can't remember what I wrote down for the next three weeks.  So I'm happy that we'll be able to get into the building at some point to retrieve what we need.

I'm not a worrier by nature, but I'm aware of what we are losing these next two weeks, what may be lost if the time out is extended further. Practical library activities like inventory, receiving book shipments, handling financial details are difficult, if not impossible, to do from home.  Interactive read-alouds (if allowed by publishers) lose the interaction piece if they are simply screencasted; I will have to look into doing Zoom meetings or Google hangouts, again aware of students without access to that technology, children in my own neighborhood.  Access to books for all is a growing concern with the closure of public libraries...and the threat of COVID-19 lurking on book covers and pages.

For now, I'm making lists of what to do during my brief time on campus, and what to bring home.  I can catalog the piles of unprocessed books sitting in my office.  I can figure out ways to work around face-to-face lessons with and without technology.  I can finally get around to completing the professional reading I planned to do this year, and write about what I've learned.  Time off is really time gained for learning and creative problem-solving.  I have a plan, and that makes me feel better.

SOLSC '20 Day Twenty: Notes from the past

This house has a musical history
The boombox playing while we newlyweds painted the walls and moved in furniture
Belting out songs over soapy sinks of dishes
A bass guitar and amp rarely touched, then relegated to spaces under the bed and in the           closet, gathering dust

Then the singing of lullabies, heart rhythms reinforced in mother's sway of hips as babies           were rocked to sleep
There were cassette tapes and CDs and videotapes
Disney sing-alongs with the bouncing Mickey
A plastic shoebox of percussion--bells, rhythm sticks, sandblocks
Old recorders to toot out tunes
The fancy Neurosmith toy that made composers of us all, turning blocks this way and that

The babies turned into children
Out came the old Casio keyboard with colored dots and handmade song cards, from my               teaching days
Grandpa thinking he's funny, buying the daughter a kiddie drum set
Summer music was planned with listening pleasure in mind, designated genres each week
Art Day at the Park and Symphony Square downtown with the instrument petting zoo, 
          mariachi and folk, silly kids' songs and cello
And singing, always singing, to the radio, CDs, because we were making nachos

Real instruments appeared in our home
A children's guitar at Christmas, unasked for and barely touched
An electronic keyboard as wide as the fireplace
The children preferred instruments to voice
The daughter persisted with percussion, a bell kit, sticks and mallets, summer camps of             rhythm
The son preferring sporadic piano lessons with a kindly neighborhood grandma

The percussion section grew 
With a full drum set, a djembe, an Irish hand drum, a three-and-a-half octave marimba
A trio of girls sometimes performing in the daughter's room, playing cover songs
We added brass with the son's French horn, rented from school, its pure notes wafting from his bedroom to the ticktock of the metronome

The marimba went to college 
Drums were played during spring and summer and winter breaks, disembodied riffs
The son asked for his own French horn, bought the winter before it, too, went off to                  college with the keyboard, where they are still played
The daughter now drums in Japan, a hobby shared with her guitar-playing husband

The only music in the house now is the radio and CDs, played through speakers the                     husband keeps tweaking with
He's talking about getting an acoustic bass, to add to the collection
And I'll keep singing, always singing...though maybe not this week.

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This writing was inspired by Fran Haley's blog post "I Will Love You Forever".  Children's musical experiences are so pure and precious; I miss those sounds.  I have not played any music at home save for the occasional shared YouTube video during this Spring Break, preferring the silence; perhaps it's the pall of COVID-19 that doesn't lend itself to pop tunes or songs about nachos.

SOLSC '20 Day Nineteen: Fall into spring

Our massive, old oak
Defies the seasons
New leaves pushing out the old

A carpet of brown
Hides the green of spring
Beneath the sprawling branches

The bluster of March
Rattles small dry leaves
Swirling around my front porch

I gather my broom
And rake, and shovel
To reveal the true season.

SOLSC '20 Day Eighteen: A letter from home

Dear beloved daughter and son,

I went for a walk on the hike and bike trail this morning, the one behind our house.  I had forgotten earbuds, and the sound of sandy gravel crunching under my heavy steps seemed loud against the quiet backdrop of the gray, misty sky.  Only a few dog walkers were out and about; the rest of the trail was all mine.

I came up to the big fig tree on the left.  You know, the one just at the bend on the other side of the trail, the one I would point out to you at the change of the seasons.  I thought of the two of you when you were small and still learning about spring.  Since you both are grown up and far away right now, I took some pictures to remind you. 

The squirrels seem to be getting bolder; they don't skitter away as quickly when I approach.  You know I have a love-hate relationship with them ever since one lived in the house for five days during our Tokyo trip...but they are cute.

It rained a little while we were away in Denton.  The grass is so green in and around the drainage creek!  I didn't see the herons or turtles today.

After I crossed the bridge, I noticed the blue sky finally peeking through. I was hoping it would stay and I could sit outside today, but I could see more gray clouds coming.

When I stopped to take this picture of more green-space, there was a lady off to the right of the trail testing her dogs' training.  The beautiful German shepherd and a smaller speckled dog were being so good, sitting and staying at the edge of the trail until she told them to come.  She continued to walk with them; the dogs were so joyful, rolling in the dewy grass and chasing after the squirrels.

The park maintenance crew put a cover over the new-ish playscape.  From the kitchen window, I've seen some families playing there this past week.  

Our backyard is green, too!  Your father has already mowed a couple of times this past month.  I'm hoping to get some new plants this week to put in the containers on the back porch.

Remember when the big tree on the side of the house cracked in half last fall?  I'm still surprised it didn't do more damage to our fence or the air conditioning unit.  Anyway, it doesn't seem to care that half of it is missing; it is leafing out beautifully.  It will be a shame when your father gets around to taking it down.  We'll definitely have to replace it when he does.

I hope you've enjoyed our picture walk together.  I'm looking forward to the next time you come home so we can see the season's changes on the hike and bike together.  Until then, be well!

I love you both so very much, 

Mom

SOLSC '20 Day Seventeen: I got the call/ Happy anniversary!

The call came at 11:17am.  The prerecorded voice announced that with the safety of our students and staff in mind, our school district will be closed through April 3rd.  This week, however, we are on Spring Break, and I'm going to treat it as such.  I will be decorating for spring, packing up my dark and warm winter clothes for brighter and lighter wear, combating clutter.  There will be reading and crocheting, cooking and baking, painting of nails and possibly a canvas.  Hopefully the skies will clear up long enough for walks outside and some gardening to happen, with a rare foray out beyond neighborhood borders for potting soil and plants.

Come Saturday and Sunday, I will start thinking about school and what I can do virtually for my students. The district is planning the same, so there may be some direction by then.  If not, or if it doesn't apply to the library, I've got a few ideas to keep kids reading and enhance their learning during their extended break.

On a brighter note....Happy Saint Patrick's Day!  It's also the anniversary of our engagement.  My husband held on to the emerald ring for months, just to propose to me on the day that celebrates my Irish heritage (my mother's side).  Today I will make colcannon--potatoes, cabbage, kale, cream and butter, lots of butter-- and bake some shamrock cookies.  That should keep us going for a few days of COVID-19 quarantine!  
   

SOLSC '20 Day Sixteen: The Grand Lady

We thought we saw the top of another county courthouse

So we got off the highway, dog-legged through small town streets

Keeping the top of the building mostly in sight as our guide

Our jaws dropped as we rounded the corner

This was no mere county courthouse...but what was it?

The first thing we noticed was the size

A lone skyscraper in a town of antique mercantile shops

The next were the windows

So many uncovered, knocked out

Plastic flapping in the wind 

Like ghosts sending out a message:

"We're still here!"

Traffic was light on this cold, gray Sunday morning

We circled the building as slowly as we could

One-way streets and construction impeding our mission

Until we came around back

Stopped to take more photos through the windshield

Remarked how the bones looked good, worthy of saving

Old buildings were solidly made

Clues in ads on surrounding fences

"The Baker Hotel"

Renovation to be completed in 2022

The Grand Old Lady will once again be the belle of the ball.

We were taking the long way home from visiting our college boy when this sight pulled us in.  That evening, I searched for more information on The Baker Hotel in Mineral Wells, Texas.  The hotel was built in 1929, and was a popular attraction for the rich and famous for three decades.  Standing in ruin since the early 1970s, there have been several petitions to renovate the hotel.  The current effort has financial backing and seems to be moving forward.

I've already entered a reminder in my Google calendar two years ahead, to check on the progress of the renovation...and possibly book a room--if we can afford to do so! 

SOLSC '20 Day Fifteen: Table for one

I ate lunch by myself in public yesterday.

My husband and college boy were off taking care of car stuff, enjoying some father-son time.  (And if you read yesterday's post--hubby did find toilet paper for the boy, enough to last him several weeks.  Whew!) I Sliced and read posts, exercised a little, listened to the maids chatter in Spanish as they cleaned the bathroom and made the bed.

I was going a bit stir-crazy, so I showered and dressed and walked over to Braum's, just across the parking lot and down a small berm, avoiding the doggie doo in the damp grass.  I ordered a grilled chicken salad, small fries and a large tea, gave back the cottage cheese that came with the salad (?), and sat down to eat and people watch.

Gray-haired couples were coming in, shuffling up to the counter to order and slowly making their way to a booth.  Families filled up booths with wiggly children and blank-faced teenagers. Two older gentleman were having a conversation over their lunch.  The man facing me had scraggly long hair and a near-beard, talking loudly about his checking account.  Two middle-aged men stood near the automatic sliding doors, eating their ice cream cones and conversing quietly.  I wondered why they chose to stand there rather than sit in a booth.

Every once in awhile, some of these people would glance at me.  Questions arose as I shoveled salad into my mouth, eating too fast as I am wont to do.  Was it the way I was eating?  Eating alone?  The way I looked?  I went to the bathroom to wash up when I was done, and caught a glimpse of my purple-tinted hair in the mirror.  Is that why they were looking at me?  

Maybe they were just watching me as I was watching them.  Shaking off the looks, I lined up to get two scoops of cappuccino chocolate chunk ice cream in a cup to take back to the hotel.  I can't visit Braum's without getting ice cream; it's what they do best.  

SOLSC '20 Day Fourteen: Gimme a break

Things I have done since my Spring Break started yesterday:

Went into work at 710a to unlock the library doors and get my sub set up.
Went to the grocery store with my husband to shop for goodies for our Japangirl and collegeboy, and see if there was toilet paper to be had (there wasn't).
Filled out customs paperwork, scanned documents, made a shipping label.
Overpacked for a four-day road trip.
Ran errands with my husband on the way out of town, including mailing the package to Japan.
Sat in traffic for an hour in Waco.  Discussed a few cards from the "Our Moments" card deck.  Belted out some Evanescence and Pat Benatar tunes, to hubby's approval.
Ate a scrumptious maple twist from the Czech Bakery in West, which tasted even better because I had been fasting all day (a Friday Lenten routine for me).
Watched the temperature drop by twenty-five degrees the farther north we drove.  The sky was gray and cloudy the entire trip.
Finally arrived in Denton at 7p last night.
Took the collegeboy out to dinner at Cracker Barrel, then shopping for groceries and toilet paper (there wasn't any of the latter) at two different stores.
Collapsed into bed, reading COVID-19 related updates from my principal and the Texas Library Association.
Stayed awake way too late watching Alita:  Battle Angel. Recognized one of the scenes as McKinney Falls State Park near Austin, had to look that up.  Sure enough, the movie was made in Austin/ Central Texas.  Realized my email wasn't syncing to my phone and spent forty-five minutes re-configuring those security details.
Slept in way too late, scrambled to make it to the hotel-provided breakfast buffet in time.  College boy's Saturday plans had been cancelled (thanks, COVID-19).  Decided to extend our stay one more day so we could spend a bit more time with him.

And now I'm sitting alone in the hotel room, drinking my third cup of coffee and typing out this diary entry of a Slice while my husband goes hunting for toilet paper yet again, then heads over to college boy's apartment to make sure his car is in working order.  After the maid comes in to clean, I'll do a mini workout in an attempt to burn off the Nutella kolache (from the Czech Bakery) I had before breakfast.  And then we'll see if anything is open that might count as a fun family activity.  Not really sure if I'm feeling relaxed, yet.  Anyone else out there in Spring Break land in the same frame of mind?

SOLSC '20 Day Thirteen: Every breath, every step

"Every breath you take and every move you make
Every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you
Every single day and every word you say
Every game you play, every night you stay, I'll be watching you
Oh, can't you see you belong to me
How my poor heart aches with every step you take
Every move you make, and every vow you break
Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I'll be watching you"
--Gordon Sumner (aka Sting)

Ah, COVID-19.  You have us questioning every cough and sneeze.  Travel plans are rearranged, suspect, cancelled.  March Madness and our school's Field Day games, cancelled.  My annual librarians' conference, cancelled.  Our daughter sits in empty classrooms in Japan.  Our son's in-person college classes, cancelled for next week.  Step by step, you are encroaching on our daily lives.  It seems the whole world is under your control...or the powers that be are controlling the whole world, using you as the excuse.  Fake news and false promises abound.  

I, for one, will not panic.  I will keep listening to the scientists and following their directions.  I will still enjoy the Spring Break ahead of me, just slightly more cautious about my usual handwashing routines, hoping this doesn't impact meeting with friends.  For once, I'm glad we aren't rich enough to travel abroad for this break, so no major plans have to be broken, no refunds to deal with.  I will pray that the susceptible loved ones in my circles remain hale and hearty.  May whoever reads this remain free from the clutches of COVID-19, too.

SOLSC '20 Day Twelve: At this moment

I am one-day-before-Spring-Break-weary. (Yes, I am taking a rare day off tomorrow.  It's Field Day, and this librarian needs a break.)  So weary, that I was having trouble coming up with fodder for writing this morning.

And then I stared at this for a few moments.

My morning Simple Abundance reading encouraged me to look inward today.  And my mug is telling me to "Be happy."  So I started thinking "What do I need at this very moment to be truly happy?"

Leaving work at a decent hour with necessary tasks completed.  Going to bed when I'm tired, not allowing the clock, TV, or computer screen to dictate my bedtime.  Waking up without an alarm and feeling completely rested. Getting back to daily exercise, preferably outdoors, because I haven't been breathing much fresh air these past workdays.  Drinking coffee/ water/ wine on the porch.  Pulling a book from the multitude of stacks in my home, and getting lost in it for hours on end.  Eating fresh, healthy food and watching the scale drop a bit as the result.  Taking care of the small tasks listed on sticky notes on my desk because I have the energy to do so.  Writing the thank-you notes still needed for my wonderful birthday gifts.  Buying a new tub mat so I can enjoy a bubble bath.  Reconnecting with friends face to face.  Clearing physical space on my desk, in my bedroom.

Looking back over this list, I desperately need...Spring Break.

SOLSC '20 Day Eleven: Precious tightrope walker

Her petite frame in ponytail and leggings
Teetered and towered above him
As she made her way atop the rock wall

a berm to the right, no real danger there
a hand to the left, outstretched to meet hers

He steadied his tightrope walker with gentle support
Her small pink backpack in his other hand
As he made his way down the sidewalk.



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I saw this father and daughter on my way home yesterday.  The scene was so tender, my heart filled with this act of support for safe risk-taking, I continued peeking at them in my side-view mirror as I drove past from the opposite side of the lane.  I see so much helicopter and lawn-mowing parenting these days, not to mention the lack of outside playtime for children; this little vignette was an antidote to those worries. 

SOLSC '20 Day Ten: Look to the light

I went searching for writing inspiration in my inbox this morning.  There sat this quote from A Network for Grateful Living:

In the midst of gathering darkness, light becomes more evident.

--Bonnie Bostrom

I am aware of darkness in my daily rounds.  A racist action spurred by COVID-19, trolling in social media posts over the International Day of Women, a loud argument in an aisle at WalMart.  Signs of emotional abuse and exhaustion in people I meet.  Twenty seconds of tv news is enough to convince anyone that the world is going to hell in a handbasket.

I am aware of goodness in my daily rounds.  Children working out problems on their own, colleagues spoiling me with birthday gifts just when I wondered if I made a difference on my campus, drivers being patient and letting people merge, smiles between strangers in a checkout line.  Messages of support in tough times, Scripture shared, a Kindness Tree on our school wall. 

Bostrom's words speak to my optimistic realist self. Those special rays of light are sometimes harder to see when the outlook is sunny.  But during these days of political unrest fueled by fears of pandemic outbreaks, noticing them is essential to our well-being. These acts of goodness are everywhere, if we just pause long enough to see them, acknowledge them, celebrate them as a means to push back at the darkness.