A Springtime Update

It's been so wonderful to slowly reintroduce "seeing friends" to the activity roster. As an introverted homebody, I didn't expect to find so much excitement in social outings. See what a global pandemic can do for your outlook? Brett and I have been hanging out with our non-related people again and it's so refreshing. Even my folks got in on the action, inviting The Crew over for Sunday Dinner and a handful of rowdy rounds of Pig.  

Here's a picture of Mom blending into the couch.

Just before I caught the Covid, I'd gotten The Spite Garden set up for hopeful success. I moved it over near the garage in an effort for it to gather an extra hour of sun each day. I love our shady backyard, but the veggies don't. This year I've planted a couple varieties of tomatoes, onion, cucumber, cantaloupe, peppers, basil, cilantro, and mint. I had plans to plant even more but then I got sick and couldn't wield a shovel. In the nick of time, I also planted six hydrangea bushes, four clematis plants, some hosta, some spider plants, AND finally (after 5 years) found a place for the succulents that they haven't turned on yet. That was all a month ago and being sickly made me loose my momentum. I've decided I'm done planting things for now - tending to it all has kept me busy enough. 

Here's a picture of the backs of our heads at Hayden and Jenny's wedding. I have no real cause for posting it here but I think our collective hair looks great.

This past weekend, Brett and I stole Papa Clint's boat from our own yard and took the pups on an afternoon cruise. Gracie Girl knows the ways of boat life but Pip has never cruised the open waters before. She was all spastic and slippery and then caught a case of on-board zoomies that resulted in a couple of pup-overboard rescue missions. 

They sacked out when we got home.

Here's a picture of Olivia with her little chucky ankles crossed like a sassy golf cart princess.

About that whole "I wrote a book" thing; I sent it off to a friend to read and I brushed my hands cleans of it. I decided to put it down for awhile - get some distance from it as they say - so I could see it with fresh eyes later. I have the whole thing memorized like a trendy pop song that isn't even that great. When you know the next sentence and it's grammatical notions, you don't really even read the story anymore. You just glaze your eyes over it the way you look at your own face in the mirror each day. You knows what's there, no need to study it. Finally my friend sent back her notes and I read my stories again for the first time. Never mind my friend's helpful suggestions, I hate the stories. I read them with fresh eyes and became humiliated that I claimed a writers status and that I sent it to an intellectual friend to read. I'm horrified that I nearly email queries to professional readers. It's awful. 

So I take it back. I haven't written a book. But don't worry yet. I've got some plans.

The Covid

A week after coming home from Hawaii, Brett and I went out wth friends to celebrate a birthday. We waited for our table across the street in a sticky college bar. It was packed with rowdy, bombastic frat guys and and bouncy blonds whose shirts were smaller than the masks they weren't wearing. Ari called the place a "cesspool" and we all huddled in a corner feeling old and crotchety. 

It all started a few days later with a migraine which is only odd because I've never had a migraine before. On Wednesday afternoon my skin burned against my clothes and my eyes hurt to move. Apart from one hangry outburst, Brett and I assumed I was just dehydrated. By suppertime I had a little headache. I woke up in the night with the most excruciating head pain I've experienced. I was sure it was an aneurysm which is not an uncommon assumption for me to make. I get a sharp pain in the right side of my head when I exercise. My doctor once happily suggested it was an unpopped aneurysm and then sent me home with no ounce of concern. But this time, I knew it was happening because certainly no one could have that much pain in their head and not die. I woke up Brett. The Google promptly informed us it was a migraine. Who knew it made your skin burn? Brett got up and drove to CVS for medicine while I mulled over how I would get my flower arrangements done without opening my eyes or moving. 

Big Mama came over to help in the shop. I don't usually make her craft arrangements for me but she came in all chipper and ready and she did a wonderful job. We stopped for a lunch break and I felt queasy. Ellen and Liv came over for a visit. I began to wonder if a migraine was a covid symptom but I didn't want to alarm my family. Brett wanted me to take a Covid test but I didn't. I didn't want to find out that I had Covid, subsequently making it morally unsound for me follow through with my contractual agreement to come to a wedding venue and touch all of the things and stuff. By nighttime I was nauseous and I woke up the next day with a funny feeling in my chest. That's when I just knew. 

Brett and I set up a rehearsal dinner on Isle of Palms and on the way home, I had him take us to Walgreens for Covid tests. I was eating the last thing I'd enjoy for weeks (a fried chicken sandwich from Boxcar Betty's) when my phone rang with my results. "You actually did test positive for Covid." the voice on the other end told me. Brett's came back negative. I was relieved to know I wasn't dying just yet but I became nervous about tomorrow's big wedding. Luckily, God struck rain down upon this couple, and my huge outdoor tent and arbor installation was cancelled. The whole party moved to a tacky ballroom. All we had to do was set the tables. 

We woke up early Saturday morning and called Ellie and Caroline. They both had Covid while we were in Hawaii. They knew what I should expect and more importantly, they cheerfully agreed to help setup my wedding. These are true friends. I sat in the car in the rain while they did my job for me inside the venue. Something about being "on-site" made me feel better about letting an engineer, an HR rep, and a government worker decorate my most expensive wedding of the season. They sent me videos of the tables as they went and I could hear Brett in the background. "Make sure you vary the heights of the candles. She doesn't like the same sizes next to each other. See that table? That's too many." My heart nearly popped. Brett has absorbed decor rules by osmosis. 

With the adrenaline of the weekend worn off, I really tumbled to the depths of The Covid. I couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. And I felt awful. Walking from the couch to the bathroom made me breathe like a fatty at the top of a staircase. Except for a bit of cheese and two clementines, I didn't eat for four days. I laid on the couch until Wednesday when my next batch of wedding flowers came in. In the meantime, lots of people who love me sent food (for Brett) and cheerful messages and phone calls. I waved at Ellen through the window one day and worried that Mom, Ellen or Liv would come down with symptoms anytime now.

Of all people and pets, Grace developed sympathy Covid.

 

Even though I was "cleared to leave the house" and considered "no longer contagious" by my next wedding, I wore rubber gloves and a mask while I made arrangements in the shop and had Brett set up and teardown my next wedding as well. The recovery progress was two steps forward, one step back. I'd have a nearly normal day but then I'd do too much and be sick again the next day. I find all of this amusing because what I need is simply four or five consecutive days to "rest," and during any other part of the year, I have that in spades. Last year I spent the whole thing resting and worked maybe four or five days. But since Hawaii through the end of this month, I only have two day rest periods. And it is getting better but I crap out again by the end of the week. 

I did lose my taste in a checkerboard pattern on my tongue. I could taste things here but not there. I accused Brett of not adding any seasoning to a chicken soup he made for me but then we remembered that this is part of "like... my covid journey?"
Coffee tastes sour and I can't taste chocolate or blueberries at all. This part isn't fixed yet.

I've just finished my fourth week since testing positive and I have not been able to walk the dogs around the block, exercise, or move my candle boxes to and from the car four times each week. You know who has been doing these things? Brett or my folks pick up my flowers on Wednesdays. Dad has taken responsibility for assorted ladder transportation while Mom maintains my calm during setups. Brett cooks all of the meals and does all of the dishes. He walks and plays with the pups. He does the laundry. He comes with Mama and me on Saturdays to decorate the weddings and then drives back at 11:00 pm to join the vendor race to clean up. 

Brett says he hasn't minded any of this except for the dishes. 

Ellen made this and left it on the porch.

I can do the dishes now. I can mostly clean the whole house and even make it through grocery store runs. Being useless feels awful. Most days you wish someone else would do all of your tasks for you, but if they do it more than two days in a row, you just feel guilty. This evening I'm going to surprise Brett and walk the dogs with him for the first time in one month. I'll need a nap after.

I've wondered if all of the old folks we pass on our daily dogs walks think that he and I broke up.

Kualoa Ranch and Heading Home

Right there at the end of the trip we had our biggest adventure. Travel agent Ellen booked us an ATV tour through the jungly valley where Jurassic Park was filmed. We all thought this was a marvelous idea, except for Brett who was certain it would be a hokey tourist trap bound for disappointment. This is funny retrospectively because I think Brett may have loved it more than anyone. 

This time, Scott's cousin Kiko picked us up outside of our hotel and drove us 45 minutes to the ranch. We all jumped out of the car and Kiko kind of giggled as he drove off which made me oddly suspicious. We painted ourselves in sunscreen, checked in for our ride, and then all became enamored with the jackets and t-shirts in the gift shop. We huddled around them, stroking the soft fabric like we'd never heard of the concept. Ellen reminded us that Mom and Dad had to catch their flight home just as soon as the tour was over, so this was our only chance to enjoy the gift shop. This lit a fire and Dad, Lee, Ellen, and Brett scrambled to find their size. 

Before we set out, we watched a short video on how to operate an ATV and then we met our guide, Charlie. Charlie looked especially Hawaiian with skin the color of hot chocolate and long black hair running wild in earthy tendrils. Charlie was extremely laid back and held a perpetual smile on his face. He had tribal tattoos and frequently did the "hang loose" sign with his hands. I thought Charlie was the coolest. 
And off we went, zooming through jungles to be spit out in grassy valleys. 

Occasionally we would pull over and Charlie would tell what we were looking at. This included history of the land, what movies were filmed there, and fun facts about life at Kualoa. Heaps and tons of movies have been filmed at the ranch and it was oddly exciting to be on the Jurassic Park set. The buildings and trees on set are made of foam and then painted to look old. The artistry! 

Brett drove Mom and me, while Dad and Lee swapped back and forth with Ellen in tow. Occasionally Dad would run into the back of us just for fun and we could hear them cackling throughout the ride. In this grassy patch, Charlie had the kids pose for a photo...

Then he got creative.

He took a video while we ran away in fear of the rubber dinosaur. 

The only downside to the tour was that it was very dusty. Charlie's ATV kicked up a cloud of dirt dust that we would drive through, and towards the end of the tour I took off my mask and sunglasses and everyone laughed at my face. I'd developed a dirt unibrow and assorted brown smudges. My white shirt was filthy. Jokes on them. We were all equally dirt-coated (except Lee who wore a face shield of sorts) and afterwards, us gals when to the bathroom to clean up, and all the other women in there gawked and asked us what on earth we had been doing. 

It was a whole bunch of gorgeous scenery and giddy Hawaiian vibes. We loved it. Brett wants to move there. Kiko picked us up, and Mom and Dad made their way over to the airport. We kids had one more night to live it up, so Lee met with his friends and went for a boat ride while Ellen joined Brett and me at a "hip n' happening" dinner spot. We were here for ages because our waiter forgot to put my order in but I'm too polite and hopeful to ever say anything. I helped eat Ellen and Brett's food and then some tacos appeared out of nowhere and just as we gave up, my supper arrived. We were all full but we were also too polite and hopeful to say anything. 

On our last morning, Brett and I walked way out of the touristy downtown and found a breakfast spot so inspiring that it made us sit to discuss how we should go about moving to Hawaii. I enjoyed the conversation the way I enjoy any sort of dreamy musing but Brett was in a serious, business transaction style outlook about the thing and part of me worried that he'd really move. And I'd love to move there, but only if everyone I love came too. Later that day, we had life altering Asian food that put another egg in the Hawaii basket.

We all packed our crap, checked out of the hotel, and enjoyed a final Dole Whip. Lee used the women's bathroom, and then we took a cab to the airport. Farewell pretty paradise with your delicious food and balmy breeze. We had an 8 hour flight to Chicago and I was in the middle seat. 

Here's a hodgepodge of phone photos from the trip because oooh they make me smile. 

Inbetween Adventures

The best parts of these sorts of trips are the downtime bits. The pairing off with your husband or mother and eating meals and giggling at all the lame tourists. (Because you're not one of them. Obviously.) From the start, Brett and I began our mornings at a coffee shop next door to the hotel. They sold "Hawaiian lattes" which are regular lattes but they have coconut and macadamia nut flavoring in them. They were expensive and delicious and we had one every morning without guilt or shame. The time difference meant that I woke up early so I'd sit on our little balcony or walk down to the beach and sit in the sand before the crowds swarmed. One morning Brett rented a surf board and took to the chilly bay to catch some waves. It wasn't the best morning for waves and as it got later, more and more tourists rented boards and paddled out, and before you knew it, there were 150 people waiting for waves that wouldn't come. Brett eventually threw in the towel but on his way to return the board, someone took a look at him with his long hair and white rashguard and they asked him if he worked there. So that made him feel pretty cool. 

Ellen and Lee dared to rent mopeds and they scooted around town. Lee has some friends that live on the eastside so they braved the busy streets and quiet suburban roads. Mom and Dad did a lot of on-foot exploration, light shopping, and adventurous eating. They continued the hunt for fishing shirts and one day, Brett and I ran into them so we all had lunch at a fish market. Those sorts of things are very exciting you know; spontaneously running into your own family members in a strange town. You know there there, but when you see them you feel so surprised.

Mom and Dad had a beach-facing room with a giant balcony that looked over the whole scene. Any downtime that wasn't dedicated to napping or hygiene was spent up in Mom and Dads room. Lee in particular could be found up there at any given moment. We would meet here in the afternoons to mull over our diner options. Throughout the week, Ellen would cluster us together to take pictures. Brett and Lee did their best sorority girl poses. 

On everyone's favorite night, we just ordered some takeout and sat up in their room and we told stories and laughed at Lee and Dad some more. At some point, Dad began asking questions like, "What's your favorite quality about yourself?" and "What's your biggest insecurity." He would laugh at himself but then pipe down to hear your answer. Ellen nearly refused to participate and Brett suddenly had a few errands to run. 
"Come on, Brett. Open your kimono!" - Chris Union

T'was a slow paced week in what can only be described as inspiring weather. Good temperatures make me feel highly capable and dangerous. What's that about? My only complaint was our seemingly octagonal bedsheets. There were corners everywhere. I'd wake up in the night, just enough to pull the covers back over to my side. I'd find the corner and give it a tug and the whole top sheet would rotate like tossed pizza dough. I encountered a multitude of corners. I'd shove some of those corners back over towards Brett and then straighten out my side. But then my toes would break through the bottom. The fitted sheet snapped up to my ankles. I tugged and pushed and pulled and tucked, and every morning we'd wake up in a pile, both of us huddled under four square feet of top sheet. Everything else was on the floor, the fitted sheet curled into a blob in the center of the bed. We don't have this problem at home so something must be funny about those Hawaiian sheets.