Category: Everyday Life

Several weeks ago when I realized that I’ve been writing my blog off and on for ten years, I couldn’t help but think about the many changes that have happened in my life starting with our move from Virginia Beach to Greene County in 2011. In my mind’s eye, I considered various ways to lay it all out in a way that would engage and entertain my readers while balancing both philosophy and humor as I unpacked the events that have filled our lives; the weddings, births, trips, job changes and all the other stuff that fills our everyday comings and goings.

But, this morning, as I attempted to log into my admin site to begin my musings, I was instead greeted by a critical error message. After an hour or consulting with my webmaster and son, Andrew, some brainstorming and a FaceTime call, I was up and running again.

By the time I finally sat down to write, it occurred to me that it would be redundant for me to rehash the past ten year since during that time I’ve been writing about many of the events in my life, big and small that have seemed noteworthy as the mood has struck me. Not only that but everything I’ve written in the past is still available so anyone who wants to read my past musings can readily do so.

I guess what strikes me the most about these ten years is just how fast they have sped by. I know it sounds cliche but as a wise man once said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” * From the very beginning, my blog has been a way to keep me connected to my friends back at “the Beach” by sharing my life the same way I would around the lunch table at work, over coffee after church, or a glass of wine just about anytime. Blogging has been my attempt to stop, look around and try to unpack the events in my life in a meaningful way, to find balance and connections I might otherwise miss.

God willing, there are still many more adventures ahead for Dave and I and I hope I can be more disciplined about writing going forward. It is one of my greatest pleasures.

• Thank you Ferris Bueller for your sage wisdom and insight!

One of the things I’ve missed most while living in Covid captivity was going to the gym. For more than a year, instead of working out several times a week, I was pretty much sedentary, spending countless hours sitting in front of my sewing machine making face masks, streaming tv shows and movies or worst of all, baking and eating goodies. These combined activities have transformed my body in a larger mass of accumulated aches and pains.

For a while I tried walking. I’d get myself dressed after breakfast and hit the road, walking up and down our street for half and hour or so and then head back. It was boring. I’m not sure why I stopped, it might have been the weather. Routines are always easier to break than make.

Once I was fully vaccinated, I reactivated my membership with Anytime Fitness and then waited a few weeks before making that first step through the door. Once I finally made it through the door, it was like coming home after being away. I spent the next few weeks working out on the various machines, and attending classes and began to feel immediate improvement in my general well-being. My back was strengthening and so was my resolve to get back in shape.

A fews ago I began one-on-one training with my old buddy Lorenzo. It’s been about two years since I had to stop training when I went to work my short stint at UVA. But after more than seven years of training with him, I knew that if anyone could help me reach my goals, it was he. I was apprehensive about starting training again, but I knew I had to try.

Years ago, in my early days of training, I didn’t know what my body was capable of doing. I resisted and questioned and soon learned that whining was not an option. These days, even after months of inactivity, I know what I need to do and appreciate and respect the guidance I am given. The hardest lesson I have learned in my personal training is not in the individual exercises but in trusting that Lorenzo isn’t going to ask me to do anything I can’t do. I’ve learned to accept my orders and execute them to the best of my ability obediently.

As I’m writing this, I am stunned by how closely my experience of returning to training and acceptance of guidance and obedience parallels what I would hope for myself in my relationship with God. Some might call this a “God wink”, when God’s presence is revealed through something seemingly unrelated to God. I’ll have to ponder that for a while.

There seem to be three distinct Corona virus vaccination groups; those who haven’t decided whether to get one or don’t want one for varied reasons depending on their personal reality, those fortunate ones who have managed to receive theirs, proudly displaying selfies with a bandaged forearm or health department certificate in their Facebook posts, and then there is the majority of us, myself included who struggle between patience and frustration in our desire to get that first jab in the arm.

And it is a struggle. And there doesn’t seem to be any way to decode or determine who will, like Charlie in Willy Wonka, will find the golden ticket and get the call to come to the vaccination center. At first, when I saw that shots were finally being distributed, it gave me tremendous hope that this long time of confinement is coming to an end. But now, three months into the roll out, I struggle to keep that hope burning as I wait for my turn to come.

So much seems to depend on where you live. My parents, who are both over 85 and live in rural Georgia are struggling to even determine if there is some kind of system down there while friends living in New Jersey and North Carolina who are my age and younger and not in any particular essential worker group have already received at least their first inoculation.

I know this isn’t news to anyone. And, it’s like my Dad always told me, life is not fair; at least not from our individual perspective. Sometimes you just need to step away from yourself to get the big picture. To do this, I try to turn to prayer.

Throughout this past year close to home, I’ve made several attempts to be more disciplined in my prayer life. I’ve tried my different things; daily podcasts, religious books on God’s plan and guides to living in God’s love. Each have had limited success or impact on my mood. Then, a couple of weeks ago I began listing to “The Bible in a Year” podcast hosted by Father Mike Schmitz, a Catholic priest with a lively personality and down-to-earth perspective.

As a cradle Catholic, God’s word has always been an important part of my faith formation, but in our tradition, reading the Bible through from the beginning has not been a focus. I’ve made a couple of attempts, but without success. This podcast however, fits well into my auditory learning style and I’ve found that he reflections at the end of each lesson give me much to chew on.

It’s been a long slog through the book of Genesis. Oh the humanity! Jackie Collins had nothing on the writer; murder, lust, incest, deception, and yet, the writer clearly says that God loved them deeply. As Richard Rohr says, “God does not love you because you are good, God loves you because God is God.” And, like the early people of God, I have been broken in my life. I am broken now. And I will be broken again.

The other day as I listened to the story of Joseph, I realized that the jealousy the brothers felt regarding the Joseph’s coat was very similar to how I was feeling about the Covid vaccine. Like Reuben, Simeon, Judah, et. al., despite the many gifts I’ve been given throughout my life, my family and friends, my health, personal security and freedom, I realized that I, too, take on the green eyes of envy when I see someone else get something I want. It wasn’t a pleasant realization, but it did bring me back down from my dark cloud; a real “oops” moment.

I know at this point, after a year of social distancing, we are all like horses nearing the edge of the desert. We can smell the water and we yearn to run for it. I also know that our time will come hopefully sooner than later.

If you would like to check out Fr. Mike’s Bible in a Year, here is the link the website: https://ascensionpress.com/pages/biy-registration. You can also find the podcast in any of the places you find podcasts.

A couple of weeks ago just before the storming of the US Capitol, I discover a breach in my personal finances; someone had gotten my VISA card information and was using it to make some very odd purchases. So I called my bank and submitted a fraud claim. The amounts weren’t large and the five purchases totaled about $1,100. My bank credited me with the amounts and I went on to change my passwords and login information. When my new credit card arrive two days later, I thought I could close that chapter and move on to brighter things.

Life continued on as normal – at least pandemic normal – until I received a package last Thursday via FedEx that I didn’t order. I called the vendor whose information was on the packing slip to see who placed the order and was given a name I’d never heard of, an email address that didn’t match it and when I asked for the last four digits of the credit card, was relieved it didn’t match mine – old or new. The customer service rep didn’t seem to concerned about the error – as far as she was concerned, it had been paid for and delivered as ordered- regardless of whether any of the information matched.

I thought it was just a fluke until the next day when I received three more packages I didn’t order; one each from the USPS, FedEx and UPS. I called the vendor on the first one I received that day, a John Cena action figure, and was again given an unknown buyer’s name and last four of a Mastercard. By the time we discovered the other two on our front porch, it was too late in the day to make calls and I was really beginning to feel creeped out. Why was I receiving this stuff? It was weird stuff too – along with John Cena, I received a package of 50 unassembled small shipping boxes, a Fiskar’s demolition tool and a fancy wrench – nothing I would ever want or use – not to mention their sheer presence gave me the willies!

In the wee hours of the next morning – the time when I seem to wake up and try to figure stuff out – I decided to contact local law enforcement for some advice. One of the perks of living in a small town is that if you are involved in community activities, you actually become acquainted with local officials. So, I called the one I was most acquainted with, our county Commonwealth’s Attorney.

I decided to go ahead and send an email Saturday morning in the hopes of being at the top of his queue on Monday morning. To my surprise, I heard back from him within an hour. He gave some insight into what might be happening and some guidance into what steps I should take. His best guess was that I was being used as a part of a scam called “Brushing” where vendors pay folks to write reviews for products purchased online. Somehow they make a purchase that creates a shipping label so they can claim their review is on a “verified purchase.” The goods shipped out generally are not those being reviewed and they are sent to random people, like me, whose mailing information they can easily obtain from a phone book or other public sources. He advised me to change all my logins and passwords, file a fraud claim with the credit reporting companies and call the sheriff’s office to file a police report.

I did all these things and even called the US Postal Investigative Services to file a fraud claim on the suggested of the Deputy Sheriff I spoke to. Although the person I spoke to was very sympathetic, there was really nothing to go on. She did take all my information and started a report.

With all my tasks completed, I began to do a bit of online research into Brushing. Apparently it’s been going on for a while. Most authorities agree that there is little risk to people like me who have received these packages and I am under no obligation to pay for any of the items but I just can’t help but wonder if this is somehow connected to my credit card breech.

Yesterday afternoon UPS attempted to deliver a package from some racing supply company. I’d been alerted to it’s arrival by my UPS account so I knew it wasn’t anything I’d ordered. I was able to catch the driver before he jumped into his truck and asked him to take the box away. He said sure, took it away and I felt a little better.

I don’t know how much longer I’ll have to stay hyper-vigilant in monitoring my accounts, probably forever. Bad people are everywhere and as long as I continue to have an online presence, I suppose I will be vulnerable. The worst part of this experience has been in how it’s shaken my feeling of security – that and the quandary of what to do with the pile of stuff I didn’t order. Just having it here is a reminder of my vulnerability. I hate that the most.

Last December when I sat down to write my annual newsletter to send along with my Christmas Cards, I remember feeling so full of hope and anticipation for what I thought was going to be an incredibly memorable year. So many wonderful events were heading our way; Dave would be retiring at the end of January and we would be free to travel. In June we would celebrate forty years of marriage and then just one week later, our son, Andy and his finance, Ariel were to going to be married in the presence of many family members and friends. Prior to the wedding, Andy and Ariel had made arrangements for many of us to spend a relaxing week at Lakeside, a resort on the shores of Lake Erie where we could gather and in-laws bond. It goes without saying that things didn’t turn out exactly as I had imagined.

2020 didn’t even begin as I had expected. Our New Year’s Eve plans of a quiet celebration in Colonial Williamsburg with friends were frequently interrupted by my sneezing and nose blowing, resulting from a nasty head cold that just didn’t seem to let up. I welcomed in 2020 with a red nose and a Hall’s cough drop in my mouth.

A few weeks later I developed what I thought was a strain of the flu not covered by my annual inoculation that had me laid out for more than a few week and resulted in our cancelling travel plans to Georgia to celebrate my mother’s 85th birthday. My hopes of spending more time in the gym, getting myself in shape for the wedding and my bathing suit didn’t happen. And then COVID19 entered our lives.

Something that didn’t happen was Dave’s retirement. A few days before his final day of work he was recruited into a new part-time position that seemed like the perfect segue from full time employment into retirement. His daily trips to his new office quickly evolved into telecommuting.

I suppose if I were writing a novel, my Christmas newsletter would be the set-up and introduction of characters and “the Virus” would be the crisis to be overcome. And for the most part, despite the fact we are living in the midst of an historic pandemic, we are overcoming it.

Dave and I did indeed celebrate 40 years of marriage this month. Instead of a huge party, we shared a quiet dinner out with friends as our local restaurants began to open as Virginia entered Phase 2. And, this past weekend, Andy and Ariel were married, not in a gazebo overlooking Lake Erie as they’d planned but instead in their backyard in Oregon under a flower covered arbor among a handful of friends. Our daughter Maggie officiated and Andy’s friend Dylan served as best man, both representing their extended families and friends as the rest of us watched lovingly via Zoom.

As years go, 2020 has challenged us more than most and there are still lingering questions about whether or not we’ll be able to live the second half of the years in a normal fashion. Will we be able to safely travel to see my parents? Will there be a second wave of the virus? What will the Holidays be like in a time of social distancing?

While our future plans are more uncertain than usual, one thing is for sure and that is for every challenge there is an opportunity for growth and a realignment of priorities. Our response to the obstacles 2020 has thrown in our plans has shown us that there is a way forward. It may not be the way we would like, but nonetheless, our lives do move forward. Just as it’s said that the best way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time, the best way to move through life right now is one day at a time; jumping over or side-stepping the obstacles as they come along.

One of the things I’ve added to my daily routine during quarantine is daily scripture study. It’s something that’s been on my “to-do” list like cleaning closets and deep cleaning my house and like those things, was easily set to the side when more enticing things filled my calendar. These days there just isn’t too much filling my calendar that is outside my house, so my cleaning is tending to turn more inward.

Last month I began using an app on my phone called “Pray As You Go,” which offers short reflections on one of the daily lectionary readings. The app has been on my phone for years and at times I’ve randomly listened to it but now that there is more silence in my life, I’ve become more particular about what I want filling it, if anything. Each day I engage, I am struck by how many times the scripture reflection actively speaks to something going on in either my life or the world around me.

On Tuesday, for example, the Gospel was Mark 12:13-17, where the Pharisees question Jesus about the coin with Caesar’s face and whether or not good Jews should pay taxes. Jesus replies the often quoted line, “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” A poignant message to hear on a morning when images of the President standing in front of a landmark church, using a Bible as a prop were plastered on the media. It wasn’t difficult to draw the connection and set the wheels in motions of my own personal reflection on what Jesus’ words meant to me.

I had a very similar reaction to today’s Gospel, Mark 12:28-34 which I believe contains the true meat and challenge of what it means to be a Christian. Jesus is asked by the scribes “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus replies the first is to love the Lord your God will all your heart, soul, mind, and strength but then goes on to add that the second is to “Love your neighbor as yourself.” The words are simple and direct enough but I found myself considering the age old question of “Who is my neighbor?” The only real answer Jesus provides appears in Luke 10:29, he proceeds to answer with the Parable of the Good Samaritan, a call for his followers to help anyone in need, no matter who they are.

Sitting in my family room, with the pain and suffering of our country so vividly displayed on the news, on social media and in the press, it is easy to find love in my heart for the victims of systemic violence and those who stand with them in peaceful protest.

It is much more of a challenge to find love for those who spew hateful words and threats or attempt to spin opinion into an “alternative truth”. Yet, if I am to call myself a Christian, I am called to find love in my heart for those people as well.

There are no easy answers to the problems we face as a country today. Years of discrimination, brutality and distrust will not be overcome overnight. But I do have faith that they can be overcome and that we can bridge the gaping divides in our nation if we only try our best to be good neighbors to each other.

I think St. Francis provides some good insight into the kind of mind set it takes to be a good neighbor so I will close with his prayer.

The Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is dispair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy;  

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.  

For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.  

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.