Year End Hubbub

Oh there's so much good hubbub. 

Alex and Jessie came to visit from Rochester, so we got to meet their new squirt, Cormac. He was the most laidback little champ we've met. He played with the same three toys the whole visit, ate whatever his parents ate for meals, and sat calmly to look at books and Christmas decorations. He has never watched tv or had a dessert, and I'm entirely impressed that Alex and Jessie have been able to pull that off for 10 months. 

We had freezing temps for the entirely of their four day visit, so we holed up inside and ate great food. On one day, we took Cormac for his first trip to the beach, then we rushed back home to bundle up. (Only Brett and I were truly bundled. In the house, Alex and Jessie were wearing summer clothes.) 

I started to feel icky after they left, and later that day Alex tested positive for Covid. This was my fourth bout with the illness and I put it in second place for worst Covid experience. It was a good 9 days of laying down.

Also, before we move on to more of the fun hubbub, I was very pleased to have captured this photo of my feral friends for you, but then...

...my favorite stray, Stacy, suspiciously kicked the bucket. I found her laying the backyard with no visible signs of being mauled, so I don't know what happened to her. All the cats hang out in the front yard, so I carried her over to where they meet so they could see her and wish her farewell while I dug a tiny cat grave. The other cats approached cautiously, sniffed her, and then sat far from her little body and watched me dig. I put a big rock on Stacy's grave to memorialize her cheeky, sassy existence. All the other cats came by to inspect my work, but Nora sat next to her for a good half hour before moving on with her day. 

She always had this grumpy expression but was the friendliest of the three.

Nora honors a fallen comrade.

Brett has been working more than not working, on account of his boss's sudden departure from the company. (Does that make it sound like he died? He didn't - just went to another firm.) Brett and the team (the team being Brett and his 22 year old assistant) have been having to pick up the slack. We are both so hopeful and thrilled for someday soon when he has normal working hours again.

I have nearly finished filming my next Instagram series on food labels. I'll debut the collection in January sometime. 

Other goodies, Brett has picked up the guitar again, there was a beautiful rainbow, Nick and Liv made Christmas cookies, and Alston took his girl to London where he proposed and she said yes!

We've had some friend Christmas parties....

(I got pushed out by the other two's unwillingness to smush in and then everyone laughed at me for "standing weird." How would you stand when posing alone, I ask?)

Family Christmas parties under harsh lighting...

and most recently, a pre-birthday celebration dinner for The Big Guy. 

There's been so much bustle, I've had no time to muse and reflect. So I won't! New Year's is overrated. 

Onward we go.

Dad Always Said Two Things

The first is the definition of the word “character,” from wherever he happened to read it at the time he decided to memorize it. “Character, is the ability to follow through with a resolution long after the mood in which it struck has passed.” He would recite this seemingly at random. It was rarely directed at anyone, though certainly applicable to whatever problem one of his daughters was having in the moment. But as teenagers, we simply heard Dad repeating something from the comfort of his lumpy recliner. Mom was the one truly dedicated to the meltdown at hand and what we ought to do about it. 

The other thing he said was the worst one, and was always directly fired at an intended recipient; have a positive mental attitude. Oh it made us so mad when he said this. It was always the last thing you wanted to hear when your manager signed you up for the late shift three days in a row or you were falling behind on a group project because someone wasn’t pulling their weight. 

“Well you could just have a positive mental attitude about it,” he would say cheerfully, as if it was just a switch you could flip to solve your problems. Family legend shows he said this to Mom when she had her stomach sliced open without anesthesia for an emergency c-section. It did not go over well. 

What I would go on to realize, is that my bumbling, giggly father understood something about life that so many people miss; and it is simply that you are in charge of what you think. It’s still much easier to posit than to act on, but the reality of that choice swamps you with opportunity. To me, a good, successful, and beautiful life is one that is grounded in natural things; human connection, safety, nature, a life where you get to help make things better for other people, or just make them laugh. I want no part of harming anything, consuming past my needs, collecting material things, or racing to “the top,” where I’d be isolated, possibly despised, and definitely out of touch. I’d hate to ever get to a point in life where a glass of sweet tea on the back porch is too basic to enjoy. 

A good life is one where you are allowed to ask questions, form your own opinions, care about unpopular things… and people still love you because you’re kind or funny or generous or human. A good life starts with an education, not the curriculum laden one they give you in public school, but a real one, that teaches you about environments of all kinds, systems, the ideologies of others, etc. This way, when you decide what it is you want to think about, you have the whole story. I think it’s hard to be given the whole story and stay right where you were; grumpy, exhausted, prioritizing oneself. 

Maybe your manager put you on the late shift because your disposition brings up the morale of the whole team. Maybe the manager’s spouse is in the hospital and you're the one they trust to handle things. Maybe it's all a part of a ruse to destroy you. This is considering the alternatives, choosing what to think. It proves the importance of having an open-mind; a skill no teenager thinks their parent could possibly have, until you realize his attention, awareness, and discipline was something he’d been choosing all along. 

(He's not sick or anything. I was just reflecting. 

This is why I don't write serious things. )