Posts from — September 2022

Rosh Hashanah begins this weekend on Sunday night. (I’ll write my Microblog Monday post ahead of time.) For the past two years, we’ve been doing services online. It was weird the first year, but felt more normal the second. We debated for about two seconds whether we’d feel comfortable going masked in-person, and then Josh shrugged his shoulders and said, “Singing?” and it suddenly felt like the decision was made. Services in our pajamas, with our guinea pig.

Is it meaningful? Kind of. I think you need to work harder to connect with the moment, but maybe it keeps me more mindful of what is happening. It’s harder for my mind to wander when I have to focus to hear the person on the screen and follow along.

I hope to go back in-person one day. I’d like to see our friends. But this year, we’re home.

*******

Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. To read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Applying a Lesson Learned from Infertility” (Infertile Phoenix)
• “It Wasn’t Meant To Be” (No Kidding in NZ)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Finding a Different Path asks an excellent question — even if you go through a similar thing as someone else, do you know how they feel? She makes the distinction: “There is a huge difference between ‘I know what it is experience loss, and I feel for you in your loss’ and ‘I’ve experienced loss, so I know EXACTLY HOW YOU FEEL.’ I don’t. No one does.” Perfectly said.

Lastly, By the Brooke gave me all of the feels with her post about an exchange with her daughter. Maybe I processed it through a different frame because I know about the unspoken loss behind the written words, but I thought she captured such a gorgeous moment in a gorgeous way. Holding onto a moment (“I want to remember last night, a warm evening in September.”) and wanting to keep it forever.

The roundup to the Roundup: Happy new year from home. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between September 16 – 23) and not the blog’s main URL. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week? Read the original open thread post here.

We went to the beach this weekend. We’ll go several more times before the twins leave for college because it’s a short trip — a quick drive that we make either for the weekend or as a daytrip. So I know it’s not the last time we’ll go, but I spent the weekend thinking about how at this time next year, we won’t have these spontaneous trips. Josh and I will still take them, but the twins won’t be with us because they’ll be away at school. It will change the rhythm of the trip, the routines we fall into the moment we enter the town.

I didn’t want to spend the weekend sad, but I also couldn’t convince my brain not to think like this. It didn’t help that we were surrounded by pregnant women and toddlers. It was as if we were a magnet, dragging every single woman 6 – 8 months pregnant into our orbit and depositing them in beach chairs around us.

I watched small children run into the ocean and fill buckets with water and roll in the sand, and my heart hurt. I was so jealous of these strangers. I didn’t covet their kids. I coveted more time with mine.

I’m hoping that by feeling things now that I’m letting out these intense emotions slowly over time. Like a slow release valve rather than feeling it all next August.

I’ll admit that in all of my books, the acknowledgments page was the best section to write. My only fear was missing someone on the list, but I kept notes through the process and hopefully got to everyone both inside and outside of the publishing house. It takes a lot of people to make one book.

So I love this thought from My Sweet Dumb Brain. She writes an acknowledgments list for life. As in, all of the people who make your day/week/month/year possible. We rarely do anything alone. There is almost always someone who makes the thing we’re doing possible — from making your coffee for you when you’re out to literally being a member of your work team.

She takes it a step further to also thank the tools and inanimate objects that make her day possible.

It’s a fun exercise to do or think through.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

*******

I had a random thought last week that we should take the ChickieNob back to London to be there on the street during the funeral. The Wolvog loves London because he loves cities, but the ChickieNob has felt isolated about having big feelings about Queen Elizabeth while being surrounded by people who do not have big feelings about Queen Elizabeth. We’d all go over to support ChickieNob and give her that closure.

But the cost of a last minute ticket would be over $2000 per person.

So funeral on television instead. Our body is in the US this morning. Our heart is in the UK.

*******

Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.

Queen Elizabeth’s funeral is quickly approaching. We are waking up at 5 am to watch tomorrow. I’m counting myself as watching, too, though prior to this point, I would have phrased it as “the ChickieNob is watching, and I am abiding with the ChickieNob.” But… no. I am watching, too. This means something to me.

I will tell you the headline that turned me into a sobbing mess. Actually, I was already a sobbing mess because I had shown Josh the trailer for the movie The Duke, which gives me goosebumps. And then I was crying because we were working on college applications, and that shoves the whole leaving-for-college thing in my face. But then I started crying because of this headline: “Princess Anne curtsies to her late mother one final time.”

Get past any knee-jerk reaction to the idea of one human being curtsying to another. There was something about that headline that drove home the point that this was a woman who lost her mother. Sons who lost their mother. Grandchildren who lost their grandmother. Just a family mourning their loss on a public stage. How impossibly difficult. If it were me, I would be in pyjamas, sobbing hysterically. I would be staring at the wall, motionless. I would not be standing upright, outside, in front of everyone, my face in neutral.

My heart went out to Princess Anne.

So we will wake up tomorrow super early and say goodbye.