One Year

Approximately one year ago I was cleaning out the last of my career detritus as I closed down thirty-one years of teaching. It was a heady time filled with cleaning decisions, farewell decisions, employee exit decisions and am-I-doing-the-right-thing decisions. Fortunately, I was distracted enough to keep myself from crawling too deeply into my head. One step at a time and just do the next thing.

Now that I have had a little time to process the process, here are a few things I learned.

1) It is okay to not have an exit plan.--I can hear financial planners and forward thinkers choke on their coffee with this one. When I retired, I didn't have an encore career ready to go as my next step. I didn't have elaborate hobbies in the wing. Yes, I enjoyed reading and cooking but somehow that seemed less respectable than activities such as woodworking, quilting or gardening. I wasn't training for marathons. I wasn't preparing to care for grandchildren three times a week or ever, I only have granddogs and grandcats. I wasn't producing sassy old lady Youtube videos about sassy old lady things. I was just retiring, plain and simple. And I am still retired, without any grandiose plans, and glad for every minute of it.

2) Paperwork never stops.--Most jobs come with a fair amount of paperwork and teaching is certainly no exception. There were student assignments to correct, grades to record, and forms, forms, forms and more forms to complete.  I certainly do not have that volume of paperwork any more but I am still filling out forms. Leaving the safety net of a full time employer forces one to jump through lots of hoops for pension payments, insurance changes and status adjustments, all of which involve more forms. My husband just turned 65 so the world of Medicare became another mountain of forms to decode. Most forms are online which is good and bad, depending on the day. The good news about the forms I complete now is that I have the luxury of time. Gone are the days of completing paperwork while eating lunch. Sorry, kids, for all the coffee stains and crumb spots left behind on your papers.

3) Friendships are golden.--When I am asked if I miss anything from working full time, I immediately respond, "I miss my friends." There is nothing like working side by side in the trenches with great people. Good days, bad days, dull days and crazy days are all made better by the folks who have your back. I was blessed to be surrounded by a group of people who saw the value of beginning the day with interesting conversation, lots of coffee and laughter, sweet laughter. We may not have agreed on everything but we always gave each other support and respect. If we are truly honest, we spend more time with our work friends than we do with our own families. That is not a fault, it is just a reality and it is okay to treasure our work friends as the gifts they are to us.

I am still learning retirement lessons and my exit plan is still not noteworthy. In light of recent events, maybe that is okay. For me, being present in the moment has been enough.

Dem Bones

"Your ankle bone's connected to your shin bone. Your shin bone's connected to your knee bone. Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around." And so goes a popular song enjoyed by kids and adults alike. The intent of the song ranges from understanding Biblical theology to teaching kids about our skeletons. I am not going to dive into either meaning. That seems like too much for quarantined mush brains. My reference is simply that everything is connected. And that fact is evident more than ever with the shopping habits of folks during the past couple of months.

It all began with the hording of toilet paper which led to a spike in sales for paper towels which led to a spike in sales for Kleenex tissues. My elderly brain remembers the Sears & Roebuck catalog as a back up in any self-respecting outdoor toilet years ago. The thought of paying for toilet paper when there was a free catalog available was often the rationale. My family did not have an indoor bathroom until I was about ten. Many memories of my youth are fond, but the outdoor toilet is not one of them.

The next shopping challenge was hand sanitizer which led to a shortage of disinfectant wipes which led to a shortage of hand soap which led to the shortage of any product with the word disinfectant written on it. Fortunately, I usually have a ready supply of good old fashioned bleach on hand and I was able to make my own solution of bleach spray. Long before hand wipes and sanitizers were invented, my mother would soak a wash cloth in soapy water, put it in a plastic bag and use it to wash our hands when we were traveling. I put one of my bleach sprayed cloths in a ziploc and carried it with me when I thought I might need a moment of disinfecting while I was out and about. No fancy sanitizer needed.

Another shortage was yeast. I don't know if there ever was a shortage of ready made bread in the stores but folks went crazy over the need to knead bread on their own. Social media was full of sourdough bread projects and ways to capture wild yeast. Those of us who have dabbled in the "starter" world know that it is a full time babysitting job that takes on a sense of moral obligation. I took my chances with the yeast I already had on hand and I also found plenty of bread on the shelves of my local grocery store. That being said, I was intrigued by a friend's suggestion of using raisins to create "yeast water." I liked the experimentation involved in the process so I went for it. I am on my second attempt as the first attempt was an epic fail. Time will tell if I am on the road to success as I am several days away from actually baking a loaf of bread. I suspect the vast majority of baker wanna-bes have already shifted back to purchasing bread and our yeast supplies will get back to normal.

Our latest potential shortage is meat. This is the only shortage that rattled my husband's cage. He loves his vegetables but meat is king. I don't think it helped when I told him I have plenty of tuna on hand. Fortunately, grocery stores have learned a few lessons along the way and are now limiting meat purchases as it has become very clear that folks tend to go berserk and buy up everything in sight whenever there is a whiff of shortages. My niece mentioned that it might drive people toward vegetarianism and I pointed out that there would then be a run on beans and lentils which would lead to the next shortage. 

And so it is. I cannot predict the next shortage but I do know that my rhubarb plant looks like it is going to keep me well supplied with desserts and that will take the edge of any crazy day.

Super Value

Throughout my years of teaching I had the opportunity to be a part of many different committees. I would be lying if I said I enjoyed every meeting, every agenda and every committee member. What is true, however, is that I learned something from each gathering for the good or the bad.

One particular challenging committee I served on had the objective of reviewing whether the needs of gifted students were being met at the middle school level. Before I go any farther, it might be best if I come clean with my bias. I hate the word gifted as it implies that one child is superior to another based solely on one criteria point. Such a premise is a slippery slope, in my opinion.

Our committee was comprised of teachers, parents and district administrators. One of the committee members was a particular contentious and vocal mother of a student in the gifted program. She, of course, believed the needs of her little Einstein were not being met and it was time for a change. I am no stranger to such rants but her personality and unmitigated demands rubbed me the wrong way. My vow to keep my mouth shut and do my time was not long lived. I eventually spoke my piece, more than once, I'm afraid. Mama Bear had no time of day for me as I was "just a regular teacher" so I knew I was wasting oxygen speaking to her but it made me feel better. During one particular heated moment, Mama Bear made the statement, "Why is this district spending so much time on the regular kids. Everyone knows they will never save the world." Suffice it to say, I practically levitated from my seat.

Fast forward to today. Who are the folks we are asking to risk so much for us? Surely, we need scientists and researchers in a desperate way but it is also very clear that each person who shows up at an essential service job is putting their health and well-being on the line. The HVAC worker who fixes a furnace in a cold home, the grocery clerk who works with hundreds of people throughout the day, the nurse who takes a deep breath and goes in for another shift, the FedEx driver who faithfully delivers packages so we can shop from home, the caretaker at a senior living center who works with an extremely vulnerable population, and on and on it goes. I do not know their IQ levels but it doesn't matter one iota to me whether they are Mensa or not.

I may never cross paths with Mama Bear again but there is a part of me that feels justified after all these years. If we learn anything from our current world crisis, perhaps one lesson is to honor the value of others, regardless of an IQ rating, a prestigious job, a fat bank account or a lucrative sports career. I think Mr. Rogers got it right again when he said, "When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping'".

God bless the helpers and may we all be one of them.

Thanks to the folks at the greenhouse who are making sure we can
 dream of gardening days ahead.

Life on the Ledge

I am positioned in a way that is well suited for our newly quarantined world. I do not have little ones to care for. I am retired so I don't have to think about e-learning lessons. I am no longer on lots of committees so Zoom sessions are not necessary. I have a good supply of toilet paper thanks to my youth hostel operation. And Mother Hubbard's cupboard is still not bare.

And yet, I find myself slipping out on the ledge. I am a professional fretter and despite my head saying, "Stop It!", I allow myself to play mind games. Every little cough or sniffle, I talk myself into impending doom. Every phone call from my mother makes me worry about her well-being now that I cannot visit her in person. Each time I go to the grocery store I feel like I am playing a game of plague. I have no solutions to my excessive stewing but I am stumbling my way through a few strategies. Here are a few of them.

1) The Great British Baking Show (Netflix)--I have no intention of replicating any of the baking challenges given the contestants, but there is something very distracting about watching home bakers work their way through the challenges of constructing "show stoppers" and critical judging. The judges and moderators are fun to watch and, let's face it, British accents are entertaining for those of us living across the pond.

2) Geography--No, I haven't gone completely daft. Yet. I am, however, using an on-line game to help me brush up on my geographical knowledge. It is very humbling to say the least. I started with the United States and quickly discovered my knowledge deficit of states on the east coast. Where the heck is Delaware, anyway? I am not allowing myself to move to a new region until I have 100 percent accuracy. So far I have marched my way through the U.S., Canada, Central America, South America, Europe and Africa. I am ashamed to admit how pitiful my pre-tests are for each region. I am now working on Asia and getting stuck on all the "stans" and sovereign city-states. The whole process is just demanding enough to keep my mind distracted and I feel like I am accomplishing something without having to clean a closet.

3) Birds--No surprise on this one. I have to get my bird fix every day whether it is watching and listening to my neighborhood bird friends or watching my favorite nest cams from Cornell Labs. Currently, Cornell is featuring an osprey nest in Savannah, an osprey nest in Montana, an albatross nest in New Zealand, an owl nest in Indiana, two petrel nests in Bermuda and a hawk nest in New York. (By the way, I can find all those places on the map now.) I am also participating in Cornell's FeederWatch program so I turn in bird counts from my backyard feeder each week. And if I get really desperate, I could resurrect the Albatross dance my colleague and I used to torment others with. Look out TikTok.

One other strategy for my sanity is that I have stopped watching/reading the news. My ability to grab on to a nugget of doom and nurture it like a dung beetle with its treasure was not helping me cope. My husband is in charge of filtering any pertinent information my way. I now stick my head in the sand and do my part for the greater whole to the best of my ability.

Stay safe and be well, my friends.

This is what making a face mask looks like when sewing terrifies you: dishtowel, elastic from underwear waist band and gobs of fabric glue...enough to get your fingers glued to the project, several times. 

Of Two Minds

Try as I might, it is impossible to create a post that ignores the "Big CV".  I find myself vacillating between curling up in the fetal position in my closet to flinging the windows open with a laissez faire spirit. Everything that should be said has quite likely already been said or perhaps shouldn't be stated at all. Human nature is certainly presenting itself as good, bad and everything in between as we respond to our individual situations. Clearly, our inner voices are nudging us to "do something." My instincts are goading me toward the following conclusions.

1) Be careful what you wish for.--Likely, many of us have made the statement, "Oh, how I wish I didn't have so much going on in my life. I am just too busy to keep up." And, now, many are stuck at home with nary a sporting event or meeting or church service to attend. The simple ritual of going out for coffee causes a person to answer a gauntlet of questions concerning availability of services, social distancing and quarantining. Working from home may have its advantages but the loss of camaraderie and established routines can wobble one's sense of well being. It is no surprise that many are craving the very thing that harbored complaints just a few short weeks ago.

2) Too much is too much.--This is true on a very basic level when we witness what happens when folks hoard everything from toilet paper to hand sanitizer to canned goods. My husband gently suggested a month ago that it might not hurt to stock up on groceries "just in case." I told him I could probably pantry dive for at least a month before we ran out of edible items. That being said, I have been augmenting my larder with a few extra staples. But, buying more than two weeks worth of goods has a selfish ring to it. If folks are unable to self-check, it may be time to return to the rationing system used during World War II. Moderation, please.

3) Keep calm and start cooking.--It is not a surprise that all the recent insanity sent me straight to the kitchen. Nothing calms me more than getting lost in the zen of chopping, measuring, preheating, sauteing and tasting. Lots of tasting. Bread, snickerdoodles, almond bars, marinated lamb chops, salmon loaf, curried carrots and colcannon are just a few of my distractions, none of which used ingredients in high demand at the grocery store. Baking my own bread does remind me, however, why my grandmothers always bought flour in 50-lb sacks. They didn't use dainty canisters to store their flour but, rather, flour bins large enough to bathe a small child in. Baking was a fact of life back then.

4) Necessity is the mother of invention.--"Flattening the curve" has had an inverse effect on creativity.  Creativity has been flaring up exponentially in response to changes in our social behavior. Entities such as restaurants, theaters, gyms and schools are giving birth to solutions at warp speed in response to problems rarely imagined. I have no doubt that some of the creative responses being implemented now will inspire improvements long after the demands of this crisis have passed.

And, finally, in the spirit of binge watching our favorite shows, let us remember the words often attributed to John Wayne, "Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway."

Giddy up, folks and stay close to the ranch.

Finally got around to using the last of the chocolate stars
from my Christmas baking supplies. Never too late. 

Mind Trips

March is National Reading Month in honor of Dr. Suess' birthday on March 2. Many librarians will don tall red and white striped cat-in-the-hats in hope of enticing the younger crowd into a world of books. Book trivia contests, celebrity read-alouds and flashy library displays will promote the theme throughout the month. In reality, every month is reading month in a library but a promotional push toward literacy spices things up a bit. And librarians love a good theme.

In honor of National Reading Month, here are a few books I have read this year, in no particular order or recommendation.

1) Travel Light, Move Fast by Alexandra Fuller--This book is a memoir revolving around the author's rather unconventional upbringing by her very quirky parents in Africa. Fuller's young life was very different from my rather traditional upbringing in the upper Midwest of the United States and I found her recollections fascinating if not a little perplexing. I did not covet her upbringing but I did wish I was a bit more adventuresome. My trip to the mailbox at the end of our long driveway as a kid was adventure enough for me I guess.

2) A Serial Killer's Daughter by Kerri Rawson--This true story is not for the faint of heart. The author's father was a notorious serial killer known as BTK (bind, torture, kill) in the Wichita, Kansas area.  Chillingly, Rawson's father committed his crimes under the noses of his wife, children and community members without being caught for over thirty years. Rawson's first inkling of her father's evil crimes happened when the FBI came knocking on her door one day. The tale is one of heartbreak, betrayal, shame and ultimately, attempts at forgiveness. The descriptions are not graphic in a blood and guts manner but the rawness of emotions will remind us all of the complexity of relationships.

3) The Impossible Climb by Mark Synnott--My fascination with mountain climbing continues with this book. The author helps us peek into the culture and history of mountain climbers while focusing on the astonishing free-solo climb of El Capitan in 2017 by Alex Honnold. The mountain climbing described in this book is not the pseudo-climbing of men and women who "climb" ascents such as Mt. Everest on the backs of Sherpas and a well-padded pocketbook. The often rag-tag climbers Synnott describes (himself included) are scrappers who have a genuine love for scaling heights and the athleticism involved in the process. He also crafts a deft description of the unwritten tenets of ethical mountain climbing. No one could be farther from such adventures than myself and I tend to be critical of what I deem to be foolishly risky behavior. Synnott's book actually wobbled my judgment of the sport. Not enough to send me looking for carabiners and crampons, but I will reserve instant judgment on all climbers, unless Sherpas are involved.

4) The Best Cook in the World by Rick Bragg--This book was quite a departure for me. The content is certainly in my wheelhouse as I love books about the culture of food and food preparation. It was the way I "read" the book that was foreign to me. I am dabbling in the world of audio books in an attempt to improve my listening skills. Okay, that is a lie. I am using audio books to help me un-numb my brain while I complete my morning exercise routine. The book is rather long so many miles can be covered along the way. Bragg brilliantly describes the essence of food preparation and dining during the very hard times and good times of his mother's family in the hilly regions of Alabama. His sense of humor and keen use of language kept me well entertained. I don't think I will ever cook barbecued pig's feet or the potentially poisonous poke salad, but the lessons gleaned from the book were definitely worth feasting upon.

Hope you have the luxury of reading a good book or two this month. It is time well spent.

Cake

I like to cook and bake but there are some things that kick my butt every time. As some of you know, anything with gelatin or Jello will confound me to no end so I tend to shy away from using such ingredients. I also struggle with the lowly little dried bean. Soak or don't soak? Add baking powder or not? Add salt first or later or both? Use red, black, pinto, kidney or other? Simmer on the stove or use a pressure cooker? All this to say, I use canned beans. A particularly disastrous baked beans recipe attempted years ago keeps me humble.

Another nemesis for me is cake, plain and simple. I'm not talking about a cake mix, pretty sure a trained monkey could pull that off. Rather, I am referring to a from-scratch product. Because I am old enough to remember an era when boxed cake mixes were either a luxury or difficult to procure, I have a taste memory of delicious, moist, slightly crumbly cakey goodness slathered with homemade frosting served as a special treat for company or for a special occasion. We had some of the raw ingredients on the farm such as eggs and cream so there was no excuse for not honing our cake baking skills. Alas, it did not happen for me. I could pull off an angel food cake, IF I separated the eggs properly with no yolk sneaking its way into the precious whites. I learned how to use the egg yolks in a buttery sponge cake that was always a favorite. But an old-fashioned chocolate or white cake was a mystery to me.

When I ask my 92-year-old mother about making cakes, she always reminds me that cake making is a tricky process, prone to producing a dry cake or something that is just plain blah. And she says that the best thing that happened on that front was the invention of the cake mix. I always agree with her and yet, I feel I might still be able to slay the cake dragon.

Thus the reason I made another attempt at making a cake. It was my husband's birthday so I had a deadline to motivate me. He loves cake and truth to be told, he would be just as happy (or happier) with a box cake as a homemade one, but I was determined to make this happen. I found a recipe from America's Test Kitchen, a source of well tested, very detailed recipes. I needed specific information and the cake recipes of my youth were prone to cryptic instructions and loosely identified ingredient amounts. Cake demands precision.

To the best of my ability, I followed the comprehensive steps. Set eggs and butter out so they can reach room temperature. Separate eggs. Whip egg whites and set aside. Blend dry and wet ingredients. Gently fold in egg whites. Grease, flour and add parchment paper to two cake pans (mine are of slightly different sizes but I chose to look the other way. Sorry, Test Kitchen.). Bake until inserted toothpick is free of clinging batter. Cool for ten minutes and remove from the pans. Then, move on to the frosting. The Test Kitchen recommended their recipe for foolproof chocolate frosting made in a food processor. My moderately sized food processor struggled to handle all the ingredients but, my goodness, the frosting was divine. I did a lot of quality control with the finished results and I would make that frosting again, cake or no cake.

The final cake was very tasty and my husband enjoyed every last bite, but was it worth all the effort? A tricky question. I liked the flavor and texture better than a cake mix, but most folks would probably be just as happy with a cake sans all the fuss. In reality, we are comparing apples to oranges. Each has its benefits and each is good for you.

My advice is to just eat cake.