Category — Uncategorized

Three Pines is having a moment. There is a new Substack where various people weigh in about the books and a television show coming out in December that looks stunning.

The issue is that I’m still reading the Louise Penny books, and I don’t know how closely the show will cleave to the book storylines. I don’t want to ruin a set of mysteries I enjoy reading. I would be genuinely bummed out if I watched an episode and then recognized it in a book.

But look at the trailer! Doesn’t it look so good? Louise Penny + cold weather = perfect winter reading material. And, apparently, viewing material.

While I don’t love the title of the piece — fear isn’t the reason I do what I do — the rest of this Washington Post piece hit close to home. We still mask indoors, unapologetically. It keeps us safe while giving us the ability to do the things we want to do. We went to two Bar Mitzvahs last month, hung out with friends and family, and traveled to the UK and Belgium last summer. We still try not to spend a ton of extra time indoors with people who are not masked, even though we’re masked. One-way masking isn’t as effective as two-way masking. But we obviously spend time indoors with unmasked people when we can’t help it for school, work, or the weather.

The only thing impacted is meals with other people. And restaurant visits and reading in coffeehouses. But really, meals with other people because we don’t eat indoors (or outdoors in crowded spaces). And that is the most common way people socialize. It certainly was our socializing activity of choice pre-COVID. Again, it’s still possible if everyone is willing to be flexible and creative.

For the most part, I don’t feel isolated. Very few people give us pushback about masking or our boundaries. For the most part, it’s like vegetarianism. Other people eat meat. I don’t. It clearly impacts time together in some regard because I’m not going to join in a crab feast or go to a steakhouse. Some people give us a hard time about vegetarianism, and we smile pleasantly and say we’re not going to compromise to make them happy. But for the most part, our meat-eating friends will suggest a place we both can find something on the menu to enjoy. They meet us halfway, and we meet them halfway. I mean, not literally now because we’re not eating in restaurants. It’s just an analogy. But you understand.

So we mask. And we avoid what feels unsafe to us. And, yeah, it can be a little isolating at times, and I wish we’d all go back to trying to keep each other safe. But I also know that most people have gone back to 2019 living. And I’m cool with that as long as they’re cool that we’re still in 2021 living. And we’re mostly okay with that.

I love lists like these. Namely, while they rarely tell me anything deeply profound, they make me look at my surroundings differently. A case in point:

“Where is the good knife?” If you’re looking for your good X, you have bad Xs. Throw those out.

We do. We have so many bad knives that I bypass to grab the “good knife.” Why don’t we get rid of the old bad knives, resharpen the ones that can be resharpened, and get new ones so we have multiple ones we like? Why do we hold on to dull knives that we don’t use?

And this one:

If you listen to successful people talk about their methods, remember that all the people who used the same methods and failed did not make videos about it.

What wisdom did you find on the Internet today?

The Guardian recently had an article in the stories contained in cemeteries. Headstones hold clues — the short time between dates (what happened to them?) or the long time between dates (how did they feel outliving all of the relatives buried around them?). Inscriptions, headstone shape, flowers left behind: they’re all clues.

Are we losing something as so many move to be cremated? I will be. (Or, in any case, I will not be buried.) The people who scatter my ashes will remember the spot where they left them, and they may even tell the next generation. But future people will not know I existed in the way that I’m aware of all of the people who existed when I walk through a graveyard.

It’s not enough to get me to change my funeral plans. And I know there are many more ways to make an impact than a stone with your name on it. But it got me thinking about how it will be rare to see modern dates on headstones one day. Or how I sometimes go to cemeteries when we’re traveling to see a grave. How that is lost when we move from one tradition to another.

The twins found and downloaded all of their writing from elementary school. It is, as you assume, very sweet and funny.

The twins wrote a piece about how they imagined adulthood; specifically, they imagined their life would be at 29 when they were nine. The ChickieNob used 29 as a starting point, launching into plans that unfolded between 29 and 32. I had to read it aloud because she couldn’t get the words out. Some of it was ridiculous. Most of it was actually kind of possible if the stars aligned.

But it also was so sweet that it broke my heart because they filled their essays with big dreams. When do we stop dreaming big dreams and writing essays about where we’ll be in 20 years? I guess it becomes less amusing once you know how the world works. (In 20 years, I’ll be navigating medical appointments while renewing my AARP membership and feeling baffled by new technology. Yep… that’s probably pretty accurate if we’re all still living above ground.) But what about dreaming big dreams that may come true? That could come true. That are promises to your younger self to at least try to find the path that leads to that endpoint.

Food for thought.