The Monica Chronicles

The Jetsons lived what at that time seemed like the far-off future where technology had advanced to a level beyond our wildest beliefs. It didn’t seem possible that we would ever see such wonders in our own lifetimes.

George Jetson drove a flying car, his wife Jane cooked foods almost instantly in a small oven and daughter Judy chatted with her girlfriends on a phone with a television screen where she could see the person she was talking to. Uncroyable! The plots of each episode were pretty routine, but the furnishings were amazing! In fact, The Jetsons holds such a special place in my heart that I’ve been using the sound of their doorbell as the ringtone on my phone for more than ten years.

So much of what George Jetson used has become a part of our lives today. We cook meals in minutes in our microwave ovens, we use long stretches of moving sidewalks when we move from place to place in airports (if we ever fly again) but best of all, we are now able to see each other while chatting via a number of applications; FaceTime, Skype, Zoom and Microsoft Teams to name a few.

I’ve been using FaceTime pretty regularly for quite a while. For the past nine years, since moving away from Virginia Beach, I’ve had standing FaceTime calls with my BFF Vanya every Monday and Friday mornings as she gets ready for work. This chat time has been vital in keeping us connected because of the added feature of being able to show each other stuff like what we found on a recent shopping trip, flowers we received from our husbands or just a pretty view from our window.

I also do Saturday morning chats with my daughter, Maggie. Initially these chats were to keep a close connection with her son, Kaspar, as he grew so that he could get to know his Yaya and Grandpa even though we didn’t live nearby. But, now that he’s all of four, he’s not always as receptive to chatting with me on Saturdays. Yet other times, he will have his mother call me just to share something he’s built with his blocks. The seeing is so important – especially now.

Two months ago, I had never even heard of Zoom and today it has become another important lifeline. Even though the free version limits us to forty minutes of screen time, it seems to work a little better with less bandwidth, which is important when you live in a rural area and not everybody has a good high speed internet connection.

Dave and I share a regular Zoom “cocktail” hour with friends a couple time a week where we catch up on how the others are faring in captivity. I “attend” a Friday night Zoom Prayer, Meditation and Song (PMS) program which connects me to my Cursillo community and friends that I have missed so much these past months. I have added a weekly meeting with my small Cursillo prayer group as well. I still use FaceTime for smaller family groups, or when I don’t want to be cut off after 40 minutes. Either way, every bit of face-to-face contact is so important, making the life of a hermit so much more bearable. It also gives me a reason to fix my ever lengthening locks and put on a little makeup, which makes me feel better about myself, which is also a good thing.

I’m starting to view 2020 as a “gap year”. It doesn’t appear as though anything is going to happen anytime soon to halt this disease in its tracks, allowing us to move about in public as we have in the past. So many of the plans we had made for this year have been pushed forward into the future. In the meantime, I’ll continue to Zoom and FaceTime as much as I can to keep my loved ones as close as I can and be so very grateful to have the ability to see them in real time.

My favorite outing these days is my weekly trip each Saturday morning to the Greene Farmers Market in Stanardsville. And even though I need to preorder most of my purchases for curbside pickup, I’m grateful that I can continue my pre-virus routine of heading west on 33 with the Blue Ridge directly in sight as I head off to market pavilion nestled behind the Greene County Administration building on Celt Rd.

Sure, this year there are new protocols requiring that we wear face masks and wash our hands at an outdoor washing station before entering and leaving the pavilion. But, once inside, it’s very much like old times. I can’t touch the produce, or examine the home-canned goods closely, but I can still interact with the vendors and other shoppers and that is what makes our market so special. Even with our faces covered, it is easy to see the smiles of greeting in their eyes – from a safe distance.

I like chatting with the people who grew my vegetables, collected the eggs, cooked the jams and raised the chickens, pigs and cattle. Since the local produce is seasonal, I have the opportunity to sample vegetables that are not readily available in the grocery store. For me, connecting with them is connecting to the Creator.

More than a few times, after to talking to a vendor, I’ve ended up purchasing something that I’m not all that familiar with. A couple of weeks ago I picked up a bunch of salad turnips because my friend Pedro from the St. Isidore Homestead, who grew them said they were delicious. Taking him at his word, I bought a bunch. As a kid turnips were never on the menu so I turned to the internet for help. To my delight I found a recipe for Salad Turnips with Mint and Honey that was absolutely yummy! It also helped use some of the mint I’d picked up from Pedro because I love the smell of it. This week I bought another bunch and will try cooking the greens for the first time!

Lately we’ve expanded our purchases to include locally harvested meat. Last week, we bought a fresh spatchcock chicken from the Cair Paravel Farmstead and their special Peruvian Chicken spice. I’d never heard the term “spatchcock” before, but it is a flattened chicken with the breastbone and backbone removed which allows for more even cooking. It was a pretty easy process to mix the marinade, rub it onto the chicken and after several hours in the frig, pop it into the oven. The result was a tasty, juicy chicken that will feed the two of us for more than a couple of meals.

I’ve hyperlinked the vendors and recipe I referenced so if you’re local, you can see what’s available in your own backyard. If you don’t live in Greene County, VA, it is likely that there is a weekly farmers market near you where you can go meet with the folks who work hard to keep us fed. The prices are probably a bit higher than you’re used to paying, but the value is much greater. The food is fresh and I can pretty much guarantee that most local farmers are not pricing their items to make a huge profit.

I feel so blessed to have the opportunity to shop in such a special place and I hope you’ll give it a try if you are able.

It seems as though every time we experience a disaster; man-made or natural, frightened cries begin to echo through social media correlating whatever is happening to passages in the book of Revelation predicting of the end of the world. But before we all head off to wherever we think we should be during the rapture, I think there are a few things worth considering.

First of all, proclamations of the end of the world are not new. Throughout history there have been folks claiming the end was near. Here’s a link to a list of 10 courtesy of the Encyclopedia Brittanica https://www.britannica.com/list/10-failed-doomsday-predictions. My favorite is the Prophet Hen of Leeds. Who knows, maybe she was the inspiration for the story of “Chicken Little,” a tale the exemplifies just how important a little perspective is.

Secondly, pandemics are not new. A quick trip to Wikipedia reveals the stats on epidemics and pandemics going back two centuries. ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pandemic) I have no doubt that when people were in the midst of these crises, there were those who believed that it was the end of the world. And, for many of them, it was. Let’s face it, when we die, and we all will eventually, the world we have built for ourselves dies with us.

Lastly, on to the book of Revelation. As a Catholic Christian, my understanding of this scripture may vary from other Christian traditions. Catholic teaching holds that this book was written in an apocalyptic style, full of symbolic language and allegory, telling the story of oppression and persecution, not necessarily a prophecy things to come. Apocalyptic literature was a form of writing that was popular at the time it was written and its audience were familiar with the symbolism used. To the first century community of persecuted Christians living in Asia Minor Revelation it was a call to stand firm in their faith; a reassurance that God would not abandon them in their struggle. In that respect, Revelation is appropriate for all believers today as we are either asked to stay inside, away from each other or conversely, asked to go out into the community and work, risking our health. We are united in our struggle and faith is more important than ever, especially when fear attempts to reign over us.

From my perspective, I find it more reassuring to ponder the first book of the Bible instead of the last. Genesis 9:11 is a good place to start. God’s covenant with Noah should reassure us all that we are in good hands. I suppose it is no coincidence that so many people have begun to display rainbows in their windows; the symbol of God’s promise to us all. Rainbows are a symbol of hope; a tangible reminder to just about everybody, that no matter how badly the storm may rage, it will eventually pass and all will be well.

I know it is challenging to remain positive in a time when we receive daily death counts from Coronavirus each time we turn on the TV, but at this time of year especially when Christians have just celebrated Easter; a time when we remember Jesus’ triumph over death and Jews have celebrated their Passover; when God saved His people from death, we are again reminded that God is always with us. And no matter what your faith tradition is, it isn’t as important in what you believe as it is that you believe and hold your faith close, now more than ever.

I’ve always been a saver. Not a hoarder. A saver. I like to save things that I think will come in handy sometime in the future. I have a closet in my office that is full of storage boxes containing scraps of fabric, notions and yarn left over from projects dating back more than thirty-five years. Some might see my stash as junk, but for me, every time I open a box, it’s like looking through a photo album. Each scrap and ball of yarn triggers the memory of the maternity top, baby gown, toddler romper, dress or craft project it was purchased to become.

A few weeks ago I took a trip down memory lane as I dug into the depths of my craft closet in search of pieces of fabric and usable notions to make face masks to send to my soon to be daughter-in-law, Ariel, who is an OB/GYN in Oregon. Unlike the pale green masks usually seen on medical personnel, my masks are bright and colorful, cause that’s what I’ve got on hand.

I followed the directions I found on a YouTube video via Facebook courtesy of Deaconess Hospital (Click Here for video). The directions are pretty simple and straightforward and soon I had the knack of it. But, after the first dozen or so I ran out of 1/4″ elastic. After a fruitless trip to Walmart in search of more elastic, I tried Amazon and quickly discovered I wasn’t the only one making masks. There was none to be had. So, I mailed out what I had, keeping two behind for Dave and myself and thought I was through making masks.

A couple of days later, I decided to dig through my stuff again to see if maybe there was more elastic somewhere in my stash. I knew I had elastic, but it was wider than the recommended 1/4″ width. I decided to see what would happen if I cut the elastic widthwise. After cutting it, I gave it a few tugs to check for fraying and to my delight, it did not. Who knew?

With elastic replenished a bit, I started sewing again and was able to produce another dozen or so masks. I sent a few more out to my parents, my kids and began offering them to friends. Again, with my elastic gone, I thought I was done.

Yesterday, after seeing pictures of masks online, I opened the closet door again and pulled out the scraps of bias tape I’ve saved throughout the years and began sewing it into ties for masks. With these ties I was able to make another dozen masks to share.

I’m not going suppose that I am done making masks. In the past few weeks I’ve rediscovered something that I guess I’d forgotten; that with a little ingenuity, a little bit can go a long way. In my stash I still have bits I can make into ties. Even as my scraps of memories are used up and distributed, it’s a good feeling to know they are being put to good use.

I don’t know how many times I’ve said, “If I ever have the time, I’ll (insert item here)” and the time never seems to arrive. In fact, just prefacing anything with that statement meant that it was a pretty sure thing that whatever it was, it wouldn’t get done. It was more of an acknowledgement that it would be nice to do whatever it was in theory, when in actuality, there was always something else that was either more appealing or that needed to be done. The “ever ifs” simply got shoved to the side. Now, because of the peculiarities of our times with lots of time and no competing calendar events, I find that I’m not as much of a slug as I thought I was!

Most of what keeps me busy involves tidying up and organizing. You wouldn’t guess it by my office, but I really do enjoy a clean, well ordered workspace. Dust and clutter are a distraction that I am able to avoid for a long while until I reach a tipping point and I can’t take it anymore. Then I spring into action – when I have the time.

After three weeks in captivity, my office and most of my closets have been cleaned and reorganized. Same thing goes for my garden beds. In theory, I’d like them to be as neat and well kept as an English garden. But in normal times, theory and practice tend to be at odds when competing with commitments, errands, the gym and naturally the weather.

This spring, the weather has been absolutely gorgeous and I have no where to go. My once a week escape to get groceries doesn’t really interfere with anything. So, I’ve got the time to not only ponder important questions like, “Can mums be split?”, I actually search the web, find the answer and then execute my plan. I followed that question up with “Can a silver mound be split?” and was happy to discover it could be. As a result, my front flower bed has been tidied and is looking pretty good.

None of us knows how much longer we’ll have this gift of time to ourselves. Whether you’re binging on Netflix, reading through that pile of books you’ve either piled by your bed or downloaded to your Kindle, cleaning, baking (if you can spare the flour and sugar) or just spending quiet moments outside listening to the birds try to embrace the time to just be. Frankly, I can’t remember having a whole lot of time to just be since I was a very small child.

I know my experience of alone time is not unique, nor is it like everyone else’s. I’m not burdened with the demands of children or confined in an apartment with no access to the outdoors. But one fact that rings true for all of us during this very special time in history is that we are probably all making the time to assess who and what we value. They say that “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” and that can be true but they also say, “out of sight, out of mind,” which can be equally true. As I’m cleaning my closets and weeding my garden beds, I’m also considering who I am cherishing and what I can live without.

Sometimes I wonder what it’ll be like when we all finally emerge from our homes and are able to resume our lives. How much will all this down time change us? I can’t imagine we will be the same. The question is, will we be transformed into something beautiful like butterflies breaking out from a chrysalis or will we just pick up where we left off and plod on? Probably there will be a little of both. One thing I do know is that if we are stuck here until June, we will be very shaggy butterflies indeed!

Today is the kind of day that comes to mind when I think about spring. Sunny, with the temperature around 65 degrees and a slight chill to the breeze, the air is so clean it just feels good to breathe it in deeply. The grass is freshly cut and green, the redbud is in full bloom and you can see the first green leaves of the season on the lilac bush behind it.

I’ve found it a challenge this spring to enjoy each emerging sprout. In past years, I would take my coffee out and make a round of the yard, surveying all the beds in search of the new signs of life. Lately, I’ve allowed the grim reality of what is going on in other parts of the world and our own country dominate my thoughts, keeping me inside and too distracted to go out and look around.

The realization has begun to sink in that our current situation will not be resolved in the next week or so, or probably even by the end of next month. With that, being the adaptable creature I am, I am finding ways to seek out the joy that is truly ever present in my life, even in the tough times.

On a bright, sunny day like today, with so many dormant plants springing to life, it’s not as difficult to see that there will be an end to the sickness and death. Life will go on and all will be well.

I did get one reminder from the garden today.

I discovered this solitary red tulip coming up in front of St. Francis. It was mistakenly left behind when we moved what we thought were all of our tulips to another location by the birdbath. But, despite our best efforts, this little guy managed to avoid capture and is currently blooming his little head off. When I saw him this morning he reminded me that I really need to be more thorough in my cleaning and hand washing. Just because I think I’ve gotten all of the germs washed off, I might not have. Wouldn’t want any of the virus germs “blooming” in me.

A few minutes later, the door opened again and I was handed a bag containing my new glasses. That was it. No adjustment. Just the glasses in their case with a cloth and small bottle of lens cleaner. I put on the new glasses and confirmed I could see. The gal smiled and said if I had any problems I could come back after April 6th. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining about the customer service I received. Frankly, I was impressed I got the new glasses at all. This is simply our new temporary reality.

Adjusting to a new pair of glasses is always a challenge for me. Even the slightest change in prescription finds me continuously moving the glasses around my face in an attempt to find the “sweet spot” where the world comes into clear focus. By the end of the day, my eyes ache and it takes every bit of self control I have to keep me from flinging them from my face and replacing them with my old pair. But, the thing is, two years ago, I fought the same battle with the ones I yearn for. Experience has taught me that eventually, my eyes will adjust to the new lenses and all will be well. It’s just a matter of time and some discomfort.

Then there are the aesthetics of the new frames to get used to. Several years ago I determined that the best person to take with me in picking out new frames was my husband, Dave. He has an excellent eye for color and since I am unable to see what the different frames look like without the benefit of corrective lenses, I find seeing them through his eyes works best. We also use cell phone photos for the final determination, but generally I rely on Dave to narrow down the field.

Even with this history, I doesn’t change the fact that every time I walk into the bathroom and catch sight of myself in the mirror I look totally different from what I’ve come to expect. If you’ve never worn glasses, imagine what it would be like if you looked in a mirror and discovered you’d grown a mustache overnight or your hair has changed color. It just takes getting used to.

These past few weeks, we’ve all been challenged by a new temporary reality. Life is definitely not the same and there is a lot to get used to. The good news is that this stuff is just temporary. It will probably continue longer than we’d like, especially as the seasons change and we want to do the outdoor things we enjoy – outside the boundaries of our own yards (if we are fortunate enough to have our own outdoor space.)

Looking at life through new lenses may be challenging in the beginning, and becomes more frustrating the more we fight it. But I have faith in all of us and am confident that eventually, we will find that sweet spot and be able to focus again.

I’ve been keeping myself busy this past week by doing those kinds of household chores that are easily put to the side when something more fun comes up. You know the kind of stuff I mean; cleaning closets, wiping down woodwork and window blinds; the once a year or so stuff. I find that it provides me the same kind of mental restoration that weeding does. The simple mindless, repetitive motions that take little mental power.

I tend to do my cleaning in the morning, when my energy level is highest. Afternoons generally find me with my feet up in my recliner working on my current knitting project and getting caught up on my Netflix or Britbox shows. I don’t usually opt for a movie because I tell myself I don’t have the time, when in reality, I do. I just don’t want to make the commitment and seem like a total slug.

These days I have plenty of time and no one to care whether I’m behaving in a slug like manner or not so I’ve begun to check into the movies I have available to me. This is how I happened upon “The Zookeeper’s Wife” on HBO.

If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it. Without giving too much away, it is about a young woman living in Warsaw, Poland in 1939 who is married to the keeper of the Warsaw Zoo. The movie follows the historical events of the Nazi invasion including the rounding up of the Jewish population and eventual transport of the Jews to the camps. The zoo keeper and his wife were not Jews, but had many friends who are. They devised a very clever and successful plan to hide and ultimately rescue many of them right under the noses of the occupying Nazi army. You’ll have to watch the movie for the details.

As I watched the film, I was struck by the fact that in order to keep safe, the people in hiding had to remain totally quiet and still during the daylight hours and only allowed to move freely around the house well into the late night hours. Their security laid in not only their remaining put inside that house, but also in their complete silence. Obviously, this was not news to me. I was born just ten years after the second world war ended and grew up with the stories of Jews who were hidden away, like “The Diary of Anne Frank.” But, the affect any story has on a person depends on what their circumstances are. As a child, I would picture myself as Anne, locked away in an attic. Nowadays, I would probably relate more to her mother.

The other day, it was difficult to not make the comparison to our current condition, to remain shut in our homes to remain safe but with some major exceptions and I am definitely not comparing social distancing to the horrors of the Holocaust. But, when I compare what I am being asked to do; to stay in my own home with full access to all of my stuff, with running water, electricity and the internet to allow me the privilege of watching films in the afternoon, my situation pales in comparison to what others have had to endure in the past to survive. It is a humbling thought.

I believe that to get through whatever is asked from us in the upcoming weeks and months, humility is key. None of us is more important that the sum of us all. If that means we have to suspend and sacrifice the routines of our former lives, that’s what we’ll have to do. Some of us will even step out from our comfort zones and like the zookeeper’s wife reach out to those who are vulnerable. But if all we’re asked to do is to stay home and away from others until the danger has passed, it’s the least any of us can do.

Like weather forecasters tracking a storm, the news media make attempts to keep us informed on where the virus is popping up from day to day. But instead of a clearly defined path, plotting this pandemic is much more like chaos theory. Cases of CV-19 seem to pop up randomly among us and then spread out. Our best defense is to avoid other people and wash our hands throughly and frequently.

The CV-19 virus is probably the greatest health challenge my generation has faced and for that, we’re pretty lucky. My parents told us stories about the polio scare in the 1950’s when public gatherings were limited, swimming pools were closed and some of their friends passed. Fortunately when I was born, polio was on the way out and a vaccine was available by the time I hit grade school. And during my lifetime, vaccines for the measles, chicken pox, shingles, pneumonia and even the season flu have been developed. Before I was born, horrible diseases like whooping cough, diphtheria, tetanus and small pox were already well under control. Because of this, I think we’ve forgotten just how susceptible humans are to the spread of viruses and just how devastating they can be.

During the later part of the last century, when AIDS was discovered, many people thought that the disease was a punishment for risky or immoral behavior. It could be easily avoided by specific precautions that for most of us didn’t really impact our lives. The same held true for ebola – just don’t go to Africa. But CV19 is a totally different animal and can be contracted by seemingly the most minimal of human interaction. It’s scary stuff for sure.

I’ve seen a variety of reactions to the virus in my sphere of human contact ranging from indifference to denial to extreme anxiety. Many people feel like they have to do something. I guess that’s why they are buying so much toilet paper and searching for recipes for homemade hand sanitizer online. Personally, I put in a store of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup, because that’s what I want to eat when I don’t feel good.

At this point, just how long this virus will affect us and the way we live our lives is uncertain. As for me, I will continue to wash my hands after coming into contact with public items, try my best to stop touching my face – that is my biggest challenge, pray and hope for the best. Like everybody else, I am waiting for it to come, do what it’s going to do and be over. It’s not easy and it’s for the foreseeable future, will remain a challenge.

History shows that the human race always rises above these challenges. It’s just a matter of time and a time for faith. My mother always used to say, “Let go and let God.” And, let’s face it, faith is a much better source of strength and comfort than a pile of Charmin.

Last week the Prayer Shawl Group I knit with surprised one of our members with a celebration of her 90th birthday.  The theme was an afternoon tea, complete with fine china and finger sandwiches.  My contribution was a plate of chicken salad sandwiches carefully placed on my Grandma Farner’s crystal cake plate.

It’s a pretty plate of molded glass.  I have no idea how old it is but I do know that usually, when there was a cake at Grandma’s house, it sat on that plate.  That is where its value lies for me.

Since I chose the plate from among Grandma’s kitchen stuff following her death, it has become my “go to” plate for cakes, cookies and any number of things I take to pot lucks, funerals, anniversaries and meetings.  Each time I take it out of the cupboard, I wonder just how many birthday cakes has it held? How many times has it made public appearances? How many different church halls has it seen?  It has been an ecumenical plate, that’s for certain!

I guess by keeping my grandma’s plate in active service, I keep a part of her alive in me.  And I hope that at some point, after I’ve passed on, that someone else, in my family or not, will continue to employ this pretty cake plate.