Category — Uncategorized

Happy Inauguration Day! I was hoping for this day four years ago; meaning, I was hoping 2020’s election would turn things back to helping rather than hurting. But I didn’t trust that we would be here. But now this moment is here, and even with all of the fear, all of the sadness over COVID-19, all of the losses we’ve experienced, I’m taking a few minutes today to clap as Biden and Harris are sworn in, making history.

Because this event is a small island of happiness in a sea of turmoil.

Because it’s a reminder that things change.

I read an article about scaling back goals in 2021, and I’ve decided to have a single goal: pickle more vegetables. I can make it fancier: “Pickle more vegetables after developing my own pickling spice.” Or easier: “Phone in the act of pickling more vegetables.”

I got invited to a Zoom pickle party. It wasn’t actually called that—it was something more like “learn how to make pickles on Zoom.” But I started referring to the event as my Zoom pickle party, clarifying that this wasn’t a euphemism for whatever you’re thinking right now. It was straightforward. Me, cucumbers, a bunch of other people, Zoom = pickles.

Do you know how hard it is to find pickling spice in the middle of winter? Trust me. It’s difficult. Josh had to do curbside pickup from Penzeys. (Thank you, Penzeys.) I almost went to the Zoom class sans materials. That felt like the perfect embodiment of scaling back goals—I was going to show up to a class unable to participate in the class.

But in the end, I powered through and got the ingredients. And I heard lovely stories about pickle making, and learned a new technique. In a few days, we’re going to have homemade kosher dill pickles. And from now on, pickled vegetables all the freakin’ time.

This is who I’ve become after ten months at home.

A friend had to move to a new country for her partner’s job, and she has been sharing pictures and such on Facebook now that she is out of the country’s two-week travel quarantine. Just in time for her new country to go into lockdown.

She described the new system: You are allowed to leave your home for certain reasons, such as getting groceries, exercising outside, or attending medical appointments. To leave your home, you first text a number with your reason for leaving the home, and the system replies “accepted” (or, I guess, “denied”). They can limit how many people are out-and-about in an area at one time, and as my friend says, you definitely think whether you really need to out each time you leave your home. You need to carry the reply on your phone and show it if asked, or you can get fined.

I think this is brilliant, and her comment feed was filled with equally envious comments. A government actually doing something to curb the spread! Holding adults accountable for their actions! Making people behave as if they’re part of a community, especially when they want the benefits of being part of a community! Amazing.

I think it could happen in pockets of the US and not others.

What do you think? A single text and giving up unnecessary reasons for leaving your home for a short period of time in exchange for controlling the spread of the virus and keeping people alive?

I’ll review Susanna Clarke’s Piranesi tomorrow when I dive into the books I read in December, but it’s the book that has stuck with me the most from 2020. As in, I spend time every day mentally back in that story. I went into it knowing very little about it, and that’s probably the best way to read it.

I want to highlight a passage that I’ve thought about a lot. (I removed any possible spoilers with brackets and a line through it. Like this: [—].) The words feel particularly fitting right now, during COVID-19 and all of the stress of this year. The pandemic has taught me a lot about people; what I’m willing to accept and what I’m not.

On page 219:

‘Don’t you like the people in your own Halls?’ I asked, puzzled. ‘I like them,’ she said, with no very great enthusiasm. ‘Mostly I like them. Some of them. I don’t always get them. They don’t always get me.”

After she had gone, I thought about what she had said. I cannot imagine not wanting to be with people. (Though it is true that [—] was sometimes annoying.) I remembered how [—] had wondered which of the People of the Alcove had been murdered and the simple fact of her posing the question had made the whole World seem a darker, sadder place.

Perhaps that is what it is like being with other people. Perhaps even people you like and admire immensely can make you see the World in ways you would rather not.

People make you think about the things you don’t want to think about. They make you see the world in ways you’d rather not see it. Other people can make the world feel like a wonderful place, but they can equally make it feel like a “darker, sadder place.”

It seemed fitting to find this book at this time.

People have been posting memes for weeks about how excited they are that 2020 is over. Woohoo! It’s 2021! Whereas I have been dreading 2021 for 17 years.

2021 is the year of the 17-year cicadas.

This May (or late April… or early June… we won’t know until we know), millions… billions… trillions of Brood X cicadas will emerge out of the ground, covering the trees until you can’t see the bark. They will cover pretty much the whole East Coast and chunks of the Midwest. 15 states in total.

I’ve been worrying about this since 2004—the last time the cicadas were here. If I wasn’t already staying at home, I would choose during that time to stay at home. So… yeah… we have that to look forward to in five months. Cheers to 2021.