Saturday, April 25, 2020

She’s only left our house 3 times in 6 weeks

Elsa Jane’s one in a million.

She’s super social and loves her friends fiercely.  But she’s pretty content sticking close by home and family.

Last night, as I tucked her into bed she whispered to me.

All her REALLY important thoughts she whispers to me before sleep.

It was simple, sweet and sad, but not an ounce of a feisty declaration she sometimes makes.  Ok often makes.

“I miss my friends.”  She whispered in her still sweet little girl voice.

She’s been talking about elaborate care packages for her two besties.

So today while everyone else was occupied (Sarina physically distantly making up a virtual cheer try-our routine for high school cheer tryouts, Mark & Carl weight lifting, Charlie playing xbox with cousins or buddies) I took her to Island Market to pick out a couple of goodies for her care packages.

On the way she wondered aloud if everyone would be wearing masks.

I realized that while I’ve had to go to work a couple of times and shop for food, she’s been cocooned at home.  She’s left to drive to the fire station to pick up something Mark had forgotten but didn’t get out of the car, delivered rocks she painted for her grandma Chica and Nona and grandpa for Easter then this outing.



No stores or strangers.  She hasn’t seen for herself everyone week g masks and gloves.  The fear and compliance side by side.  The crazy sneeze guards protecting the checkers.  The whole science fiction reality out there.

She’s been home plugging away at schoolwork, Zoom classes with teachers, art journaling, reading, watching Gilmore Girls, Outlander, doing puzzles, practicing basketball, baking, letting me talk her into trying on Sarina’s freshman year homecoming dress.

Being a normal 11 almost 12 year old girl in crazy times.





Tuesday, April 7, 2020

18 and on the Cusp of Freedom

18 and on the cusp of freedom finds us here.  She should be preparing for graduation, whiling hours away with her buddies, getting a job, preparing for college cheer tryouts, shopping for her dorm room.  Yet here we are.  I’m her only option for a running partner and I’m trying my hardest to keep up.  Selfishly I’m enjoying this time with our family.  Yet my heart aches watching all that she longs for.  (This was my Facebook post from March 22, 2020-we continue to run 5 miles 3x a week and will start adding a mile each Friday to do the Capital City Virtual half marathon).


It’s the abrupt finality of it all.  No winding down.  No countdown to the last few days walking the halls that at first felt so big and foreign at age 14, now so familiar they can be navigated with eyes closed.  Halls that now feel like home.  Where so many emotions, feelings, experiences, lessons in and out of the classroom we’re felt, learned, experienced, lived.

Today, after gathering in a car corral (assuming they kept proper social distances) they agreed its the little things they miss, like driving to school.  18 year old kids shouldn’t have to miss driving to school.

Last night she was dreaming of a second prom dress.  A gorgeous emerald green dress.  Naively thinking she might still get a prom.

Friday, April 6, 2020 at 2:30pm, Governor Inslee announced no students in k-12 grades in Washington will return to their classrooms for the remainder of the year.  After a tearful FaceTime with my favorite teacher friend I went to the backyard to find Sarina.  I hugged her as she cried and she asked if she’ll get a graduation.  I didn’t have a real answer.  My best guess was if not, they’ll come up with something amazing.

This is how I found her. She was beginning a painting, the popular stylized Japanese wave.  It looks like a tidal wave.  Kind of how things feel right now, like a massive tidal wave looming above us, beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.

This is a discarded art project I found.  I love the message, and hope they remember it.


And this was my letter to seniors I posted to Facebook today.  While we feel the sharp pants of loss, I hope they can see the gifts this time may give them.

Dear class of 2020:

I believe that this class, the class of 2020, 
is destined for greatness.  

A typical senior year must not have been right for you, because you are EXTRAORDINARY.  

Every last one of you.  

You will go out and do amazing things, 

be great people, 

inspire 

and bring about the change our world needs to heal and prosper.  

While I’m heartbroken you don’t have a common senior year, that milestones the rest of us took for granted may not happen for you, I know- without a doubt- that now is YOUR time to shine through this darkness.  

Show the world how wonderful we can be.  

Soon, you will be our leaders.

And I cannot wait to watch all the incredible things you all do, 

in big ways 

and small ways.

You will do them with grace,

and patience,

and with thoughful consideration for each other and our neighbors throughout the world.

I believe in you.




Saturday, April 4, 2020

Costco in weird times


This is how I rolled at Costco and Haggen today.

I looked like a bank robber.  It felt ridiculous and scary.  I guess this was a logical step after the shift to carrying out items without bags- that always feels like I’m shoplifting.

I did try to smile a lot with my eyes.

I’m sure it just looked weird.

Here’s a recreation of the eye smile.



It took A LOT of self talk to get out of the car and stroll up to the store, accept my ticket for TP and pretend I didn’t feel like I just won the lottery.

Who would have guessed that Costco would feel intimidating?

It was a whole new world today at Costco.  They really corralled you along a specific route.  Had cones out to remind you how far apart 6 feet is.

When you get to the entrance they hand you a freshly sanitized cart.

Since people are still hoarding TP, they’re strict about doling it out.  I guess their system is they ask you if you need TP, like a scalper at the door.  You nod yes they slip you a red ticket like for raffles at the high school games.  (But careful not to touch your getmy hands.)  Once inside you fork over the ticket and they put a pack in your cart.

Two weeks ago I didn’t think twice about popping 3 packages of 5 dozen eggs into my cart.  I never would have guessed that just days later I would feel guilty loading up my typical 15 dozen eggs.

I wanted a sign that says, “I’m not hoarding I have 3 teenagers and an 11 year old taller than me.”

But I kept going, when I was brave enough for eye contact I tried my weird eye smile.

No gloves yet, but my hands are so dry.  I’ll probably wear gloves next time.

I hoard hand wipes, I have since I studied abroad and my American roommate brought the mother load of individually wrapped hand wipes.  I’ve grabbed as many as I can every time I find them ever since.

So I’ve had a great stash of Purell wipes from chick fil a in my purse that I use the second I get in my car.

I guess the bin of those at chick fil a are now a thing of the past.  Probably Buffalo Wild Wings too.

Thursday, April 2, 2020

Things you notice when life slows down

Scraps begin to re-grow.

Homemade bread can become part of the routine.


Tying flies was an incredible skill to learn from an uncle and reinforced in fly fishing class at school. Fortunately a friend at https://spawnflyfish.com/ has all the necessary tutorials.


The kids are capable of working in the business when they want their own concrete ping pong table.





May wants to help with the table too.


But found her own treat, poor little bunny, swallowed whole when Elsa bribed her with treats to drop the poor unfortunate soul.


Thoughtful friends are worth their weight in gold.


A side by side of senior cheer pictures and my girl SHINES.



A neighbor I’ve never met seems super awesome.


April Fools can be so fun.


I’d love it if this were true.  Charlie thought it would be cool to drive in 8th grade.  Carl and Sarina didn’t fall for it.  Elsa zipped upstairs to spread the word, until her friend (whose mom had posted the photo I borrowed) enlightened her it was an April Fools prank.

Dad is still a champion hair braider.



And some days it’s ok to lay in bed and eat a bag of Reece’s peanut butter eggs.  At least I finished something while Mark was on shift.





Monday, March 30, 2020

Online School x 4

I have no clue how to navigate my kids now learning online from home.

4 kids- 2 in high school and 2 in middle school.

That’s 7 classes per middle schooler and 6 classes per high schooler.

7+7+6+6=26 classes

26 classes that I now feel responsible for knowing what’s going on.

As each kid left the cozy single classroom of elementary school I washed my hands of knowing where they were on any given moment while in the care of their respective schools.

Even under dire circumstances I couldn’t name every single class they take and teacher they report to.

I’ve let the schools do their job shepherding them through,

and to date they’ve done a glorious job with minimal oversight from me.

Sure, I would feel like a far better parent knowing all those details.

But I have other things to occupy myself as well.

Menus to plan (ha-on a rare organized week maybe),

groceries to procure (usually the staples that I somehow magically though painfully turn into dinner with minimal forethought),

items to replace (pencils, binders, shoes, clothes, sporting goods, the list is impressively never ending),

all kinds of very important items left strewn about the house that need to be put away,

laundry (soooo much laundry),

bills to pay (the list is mind-numbingly long for both home and business).

I have a job that requires me to be professional 10 hours each week.  It’s a modest number of hours, but about all my overloaded mind can handle.

Also a family business to help along.

Now, in addition to everything that is a black hole inside my head, on a normal day, I get to add something that I had crossed off my list of things to try to manage

(that’s rare for me, I’m a terrible delegator...)

Class work.

Sure it’s in place of the 50 million practices and games I typically worried about making sure everyone attended that needed to.

Today I received 7 emails and 10 skyward messages, and the day is not done.

Yesterday, a Sunday, I received 5 emails.

I’m not certain which applies to which kid.

And I know the high schoolers are getting messages I’m not privy to via Schoology.

Now I need to study my kids’ skyward accounts to figure out which class and teacher belong to which kid, then decipher all the messages coming in.

Actually, first I need to figure out how to access the high schoolers’ skyward accounts.

I’m sure I’ll have a moment of mental clarity where it all makes sense so I can lay out a plan for these kids to map out their day and learning schedule.

But today I’m going a bit easy on myself.

Minimal mental clarity in the clutter that goes hand-in-hand with 5-6 of us home all day.

Minimal mental clarity when I’m asked 4x3+ times a day what there is to eat.

Minimal mental clarity after a rainy 5 mile run.

Minimal mental clarity when the dog just ate half a loaf of Nordic bread I just made today.

Minimal mental clarity when trying to motivate myself to do laundry,

tidy up,

plan dinner,

figure out how long I can make it before going back to the store without scurvy setting in.

When they were little, and went to bed at a decent hour, I could squeeze in a few minutes of mental clarity at the end of each day.

Now, Elsa reading to me at 10pm puts me into a stupor I just can’t shake.

My only hope are the early morning hours, after coffee has kicked in just enough, yet before the house wakes.

It looks like I have a plan for my morning.

Oh goody, email number 8 just popped into my inbox.

Better read the latest update from the high school principal.

Wish me luck, I’m not expecting I’ll pull much off.

For Christ’s sake, I can’t even get the kids to put their shoes away.



Friday, March 27, 2020

Social Life in Quarantine

Wowzers.

This evening was pretty quiet.  After dinner I was cleaning up.  Still trying that sourdough bread.  Helping Elsa paint a deer for Mark, entering my first art journal entry (pencil line drawings of flowers), listening to Andy Landers live stream.

Then I learned how to Marco Polo to do the weird send video message thing.  It’s super distracting to me, I look like pure hell.  I can’t complete full sentences because I’m so distracted by how AWFUL I look in this odd time of comfy clothes, hair pulled back, no make up.

Then I zoomed a cocktail hour with my two college roommates, I haven’t looked at their faces and had a conversation in 2 years.  It was really good to see them again.

Afterwards I get a message that another cute blond friend sent me a Marco Polo.  So I had to share my ugliness with her too.

And tomorrow I have a cooking date via Facebook video call with my Italian friend in Milan.

That’s a whole lot of videos in a short period of time with people I care so much about.

Time to step up my appearance.  Might have to do my hair and make-up.

Ciao ciao (I’m practicing the few Italian words I remember).

Wrapping up Week 2 Covid -19

We’ve accomplished quite a bit in this time of hunkering down.  Mark and the kids built 3 raised beds for veggies, one cloche down, 2 to go.  I think we’ll add a fourth bed too.  They cut the wood, drilled screwed the boards together, carried them out and filled them with dirt.  It’s weird they’re now bigger and stronger than me.  I used to carry a couple of them around at a time.





Elsa and I started so many seeds but we’ll need to plant way more to fill these guys.


We tried planting in egg cartons and in egg shells.  We’ll see what works best.  I can now confidently say that I can grow peas from seed.  We’ll see about the rest.  Some carrots are starting to sprout too.

In the midst of the building and shoveling my sweet sweet friend dropped off two bags of candy and yellow tulips.  Brightened our day!  (And the candy disappeared quickly). She’d been handing out goodie bags to all her students who turn to her cupboard when they’re hungry at school.  I know she misses her school kids and worries about how some of them are doing at home, especially the vulnerable ones.

I’ve always wanted to master bread making but have yet to have the clarity of mind and schedule to do it.  On Wednesday I accepted some sourdough starter and an trying.  I had to “feed” it three times the first day and almost messed it up.  I added the second feeding amount of flour (twice as much as called for) but I think I evened it up after talking it through with my friend who gave me the starter.  Fingers crossed.  I think I’ll bake a loaf this evening.




It might have been too much to take on the raised beds, sour dough, and my first video conference meeting for work in one day (plus a 5.5 mile run watching Sarina disappear ahead of me at every dip and turn of the road).

It dawned on me at 4:15pm that I was still not showered from a dirty day, wearing Mark’s 20 year old work coveralls, I hadn’t planned dinner, hadn’t checked the WiFi in the bonus room, and had a work zoom meeting with a committee and applicant in an hour.  

Sarina gagged her way through browning and draining sausage to make everyone spaghetti with meat sauce for dinner.  

I took a quick shower and tried to get the internet working.  No luck, thank the Lord for cell phone hot spots.  I turned it on, connected the computer, tidied the backdrop, and started zoom.  Yet my microphone WILL NOT WORK on the computer.  (I’ve since trouble shooted it,  googled how to fix it, nothing).  My work-around is to call and put my phone on speaker then turn down the volume on the computer.  The meeting went surprisingly well.  I was able to share my computer screen so we could all look at the architectural drawings at the same time.  Aside from the technical difficulties, I’m proud I made it work and we had a productive review.  

What I anticipated to be an hour meeting turned into two and a half.  But my sweet family had the kitchen nice and clean by the time I came down.

Elsa and Carl have been putting in time improving their basketball skills.



I’m so proud of their determination and hard work.

We’re seeing more and more cheer teams doing video try-outs.  I think there’s a chance Sarina can do that for Gonzaga.  I’m betting that we can use old videos or photos of partner stunting at UW cheer clinics.  Like these last fall:




Yesterday was interesting.  The boys were working in the shop, building forms for a concrete ping pong table legs.  They really want to make one for outside.  It’ll double as a patio table too.  I’m excited for it.

I was a bit at a loss.  Woke up with a headache and felt blah all day.  I’m not entirely sure what I accomplished.  Laundry piled up, I didn’t make dinner.  But I did make breakfast and lunch for a few people.

It was the second week one of Charlie’s DEDICATED teachers tried to teach her class using Zoom.  Last week her internet wasn’t strong enough so she couldn’t make it work or stay online very long.  This week she had it dialed in!  She had it set up so the kids were muted until called on (reduced A LOT of background noise), the kids could push a button to raise their hand.  She called on kids.  Charlie was on there over an hour and twenty minutes.  At one point he was running around the kitchen playing a game with his class.  They laughed.  They discussed a heavy book, “Let the Circle Be Unbroken.”  They talked about racial discrimination beautifully.  I am sooooo impressed.  How often do you get to listen to your kids learn from a wonderful teacher?  What an absolute gift.



A friend who is going CRAZY dropped off fresh oranges, bananas and strawberries.  We talked through the window.  Her sweet sparkle got a school iPad and was able to see faces of people from school.  Tears streamed down her precious face as she saw people she misses dearly.  She doesn’t understand what’s happening.  Why she can’t see her friends.  Or hug everyone in her path.  It’s hard on her and her mama.

In the afternoon the girls linked into a video dance lesson hosted by Elsa’s friend and classmate.  That fun little kiddo had all kinds of people learning her moves.


And I set up a doctor appointment with our dermatologist for Carl.  While I am constantly frustrated by technology, it sure does help keep things moving.


The girls baked loads of cookies we’ll deliver with cards to grandparents so close but yet so far.

Mark and I picked up taco truck for the boys, Thai for us and the girls.  And prescriptions for Carl.  Still no flour on the shelves at Haggen but I did get tortillas and brown sugar.  I should have checked for meat and eggs.  Maybe a couple of gallons of milk too.  I’m not on my A game.

After dinner Mark and Carl worked on basketball.  Charlie and Elsa talked with friends, Sarina and I watched Friday Night Lights (holy moly the daughter slept with her married college TA- I made sure to inform Sarina that was not acceptable.  I’m certain I didn’t need to do that, but felt I had to for my peace of mind.)

Then Elsa read a chapter of Percy Jackson to me at bedtime.  And no matter what, every time she reads to me I fall asleep.  Faster than any sleeping pill.  And such a restful nap.  But I do wish I knew what was happening in the book.  Sometimes I surprise myself by pronouncing a word she doesn’t recognize mid-doze.

It’s the start of Friday.  The end of our second week at hone.  I hear it’s going to get far worse out there, the US has surpassed all other countries in number of COVID-19 cases.  The jack ass in office seems to think he’s going to give the country an Easter gift and allow everyone to swap germs at church Easter Sunday.  Lord, help us.  Hear our prayer.

Mark is on shift.  He says this is the first time in 20 years he’s nervous to go to work.

On the agenda today is a video book club for Elsa,

a video from Charlie to his friend for his birthday, the first in years that they haven’t spent together.

I’m sure Carl will FaceTime his girlfriend for hours, possibly his buddies too.

Sarina will zip ahead of me for 5-6 miles as I try not to pass out while working hard to keep her in my line of sight on our run.

We’ll deliver treats to grandparents-keeping a safe distance.

I’d like to read.

Charlie wants me to paint him a fish.

Elsa wants to paint a deer for daddy,

I’ll try my first loaf of sourdough.

We’ll try to exist in a meaningful way.

And now for espresso long shot number two.  (Praying my shipment of Nespresso arrives before we run out, I’ve been skipping my afternoon caffeine.  Hey!  Maybe that adds to my Elsa-reading-sleepiness...

Until next time.

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Update during a pandemic

I know it’s been an eternity since I wrote here.  I’ll admit, I stopped when the kids hid from my camera and questioned if it was going on my blog.  I didn’t want them to censor their lives because I wrote about all the insanity in our house on a blog.  My intention was solely to capture those moments I knew would turn fuzzy in my memory before too long.  I wanted to remember the glorious and not so glorious detail of our daily lives with four kids six years apart in age.  I knew the time raising them was crazy and special and I wanted to give myself a way to relive it when they were older and our days had a more predictable rhythm.

And now for today.

March 9th just might be the last typical day for our family.  We were scrambling to get everyone where they were scheduled to be.  Carl had his end of season banquet for basketball.  It was a bittersweet celebration of a sweet team filled with seniors I’ll certainly miss in the stands.  Mark was on shift, but able to get a couple hours off to attend the banquet.  I’m not certain where the others were, but they were taken care of.

Tuesday March 10th inklings of caution were coming for our community.

March 11th the governor banned gatherings of over 250 people in King Pierce and Snohomish counties.  We knew we weren’t far off as we’re just one county south of Pierce.  Sporting events essentially halted, dances cancelled, field trips cancelled, school project open houses, band concerts, for junior National honors society cancelled.  

Our school districts followed the governor’s directive for King, Pierce, and Snohomish counties.  All the events I was trying to make happen and a parent attending became a non-issue.  No Basketball practice.  No end of season cheer banquet. No Egypt project open house.  No basketball tournaments.  No junior national honor society induction ceremony.  No Tolo dance.  No Wyldelife.

At first it felt frightening, yet liberating to cancel all these things.

On March 12th I went for a glorious run with my friend.  5.75 miles, my longest run in years.  It was sunny, blue skies.  I took photos of a favorite spot to pause and catch my breath.  We saw an owl fly in front of us and nestle into the woods.  Two deer casually loping across the street. There really couldn’t be something so big, so ugly headed toward us.  Could there?



Yet after our run I went to the store and stocked up a bit.  Bought ingredients to try making homemade Pho.  And two boxes of fruit snacks (I didn’t want to be the jerk to buy everything).

There were people in Costco wearing masks.  When I saw them I looked away from what I perceived as fear and shame in their eyes.  I worked to tamp down the feeling of panic seeing that made me feel.  I tried to act normal.

When I studied abroad in Milan junior year of college I had the most incredible Italian roommate, a Milanese native who I still talk with.  Her warnings were dire.  Her kids had been out of school since February 23rd.  

“ Hi Jen, I am so happy to have your phone. Is this your mobile? We all are fine, at the moment. Kids have been at home since feb 23. At the beg. grand parents took care of them but now I told them not to come. It's dangerous. shops/malls/cafe' etc everything is closed. Peopke shoud not move from home except for work. Hospitals full. In the company we're trying to have limit access in order to reduce contacts but difficult.  I hope the situation will improve soon. incredible situation. do not underestimate coronavirus. keep u informed.”

Then Friday (the 13th AND a full moon) we receive notice that school will be cancelled for six weeks.  The kids were over-the-moon excited.  Imagining lots of sleepovers with friends, hanging out in groups, shooting hoops, going to Madre’s, making Tik Toks together,  or whatever they do.

I was uncomfortable about it. 

After dropping the kids off at school I paused to take this photo.  


I asked my Italian friend for a little more detail, she shared this:

“ Hi Jen,  my family and friends have no problems at the moment but I know people who got sick.  Jen, at the beg they said it's is a problem for old people and underestimated coronavirus. it is not true it involves only old people. for sure C. is not a problem for kids, juniors and teens but they can be vehicules (with no symptoms/without knowing it) to so many people! that's why schools have been closed...  but the real problem here is that they did not closed malls, markets, pubs, discos etc where C could spread easily also afterwards.  people refused to change habits and kept meeting friends and going out, hugging, touching, shaking hands... a mess! this is the main cause in Italy. We underestimated because media kept saying it was just a flu, a problem only for old or weak people with complications so young ones did not care. now we have hospitals crowded and doctors work 24h who have to choose patients for intensive care units because they have no more free beds and police in the street because you can't move (only at work or grocery store).  Now we have to pray nobody of us gets C. I am sorry, jen, I don't want you to panic but pls make sure you reduce going to crowded places, often wash hands and 1,5 m far when you talk to people outside your family. You understand the importance of freedom and of social relations when you can't have them.”

I read somewhere that we should really be stocking up on items needed for a bad chest cold.  Out I went this time for Kleenex, NyQuil, a humidifier, tea, ingredients to make hand sanitizer.  

Saturday we’d planned a shopping trip with my mom, sister and our girls.  The goal was to find dresses for spring-graduations, Easter, etc.

We changed plans.  The shopping centers felt too risky to me, especially up north.  I asked if we try online instead.  That didn’t work too well.  Too many options.  Too weird/hard to choose.  So my mom suggested local.  Sweet life (one of Sarina’s favorite stores) and Spruce owned by a friend.  We bought cozy, comfy clothes.  Spring clothes, but not dresses for graduation.  We certainly supported local.

That evening I had plans to meet high school friends for dinner.  We’ve run the St Paddy’s dash for years.  This is the first year we didn’t.  My kids had basketball.  Another friend had big stuff going on in her life.  We made the tough choice to meet for dinner in Olympia instead of the yearly Saturday night out in Seattle and running around Seattle Center Sunday morning.

It was a somber dinner.  Just 4 sweet souls made it we missed the larger group, but it was nice to quietly connect with just 4.  Conversation was heavy.  Personal struggles and lots of love for each other.  I certainly felt an ominous feeling of uncertainty for the locally owned restaurant we were patronizing and all the employees.  

We marveled at what it means to have school cancelled for SIX weeks on the cusp of Spring.  

It was the first year I forgot to get a photo of us together.  Now I kind of wish I had one.  Not with camera ready smiles, but of us feeling all the emotions of the day.  We hugged at the end and ambled off. No elbow bumps yet.

Mark worked Sunday.  It’s a blur.

We had to tell our parents that we’re keeping our distance.  Because we love them and want them safe.  So hard to see my mom and not hug her, stand in her bubble of space.  But I can’t imagine how awful it would be to have her catch this mess.  The same with Mark’s parents.

We were gentle with schedules the first week of no school.  Sarina worked on her back tuck.  She wants it perfected for college cheer tryouts.  This is tougher without tumbling lessons.  Her partner stunting sessions cancelled before she could have her first one.


Carl continues to work on basketball skills.  Playing video games with his buddies.  Talking with his girlfriend.


Charlie was gifted a guitar.  He found an app that teaches guitar.  Helps tune it and lets him know when he’s played the correct notes.  He’s building endurance in his fingertips.  He’s working hard on it, content building a new skill.  We don’t know if or when he’ll get his meniscus repaired.  I hope it’s still repairable by the time he gets a chance to go in for surgery.


Elsa is finding her way.  Quietly and not so quietly entertaining herself and seeking us to entertain her: basketball, art, reading, FaceTiming friends, planning veggie starts.


I’ve helped Mark, run with Sarina, watched Carl plug away on skills, encouraged Charlie’s guitar, tried to keep up with some of Elsa’s many requests, I’ve even done a little typically neglected yard work.


The kids have played ping pong (on Charlie’s homemade ping pong set up) and pickle ball.  We’ve made homemade cinnamon rolls, we’ve started vegetable seeds (pumpkins too), we’re stocked up with knitting, painting, and drawing supplies (because I’ve been gathering those for ages in case we have time to craft), we have books galore.  And we have each other.  


And Wednesday May was spayed.  Her cone and keeping her quiet has occupied us a bit.



On Friday, a week after we learned of school closures, it was sunny and beautiful enough for Mark to take Charlie out in the boat to fly fish (he caught 6 fish- coho and cut throat).  The rest of us caught up with them and tooled around Squaxin and Hartstine Islands.  It was beautiful.  The mountains were out, seals eating fish, birds flying and singing.




I’m grateful for the security of Mark’s income.  I’m terrified for his exposures.

Our hospitals are pleading for donations of masks.  There are armed police at the entrances only allowing specific people to enter.  They are checking temperatures at the door.  I read that a man going in for major heart surgery had to kiss his wife at the door.  She couldn’t go in with him.

And we aren’t at crisis levels yet.  St Peter’s Hospital has 390 beds.  Capitol Medical Center has 107.  I hope and pray it’s enough for those who need it.  That our doctors and health care workers don’t have to choose who lives and who cannot receive treatment.  That they all stay healthy and strong.

Mark says he has enough personal protective equipment.  They aren’t covering each other’s stations for drills anymore.  

They check their own temperatures after each call.  

They’re learning as they go.

We are all learning as we go.

Praying for health and safety, love and grace.