Category — Uncategorized

Ever since Beorn’s massive freakout in October, he has random days where he is not himself. He doesn’t seem ill — he is eating and drinking water (though he only returned to drinking water a few weeks ago). He will happily come over and play with me. He begs for treats.

But he also sometimes runs frantically for a second. Or he acts as if he cannot find his bed. Things that are out of character for him, especially because more than any other pig I’ve ever met, he thrives on routine and loves reacting to cues.

When he does this, I feel like I need to unscare him. I need to speak to him in a quiet, normal voice and remind him that everything is normal around here. Nothing to worry about. There is nothing terrifying about the water bottle. His food bowl cannot harm him. His nighttime treat is on his bed, just as it has always been for the last 4+ years.

Sometimes, it works, but sometimes, he still seems off for a few minutes. I’m not sure why I believe I can unscare Beorn when Josh cannot unscare me when I am frightened or worried.

Slate had an article about a Facebook group where people make small decisions for you. We’re not talking about major life-changing decisions. The group will help you decide between two outfits or what to make for dinner.

I imagine like a human Magic 8 ball with a little more thought behind it.

I was intrigued enough to submit a request to join the group.

Would you let strangers make minor decisions for you?

I read about a project where they are encouraging people to “save wisdom” by providing methods and 1,000 questions you can use as prompts to think through answers. I started reading some of the questions, and it brought me to my own question(s).

What does it mean to save wisdom? Is wisdom transferable and applicable across people? Sometimes yes, of course, but a lot of the questions I read were firmly a no. And that’s how I feel about a lot of recorded wisdom. It’s interesting to hear what worked for a person, but in that way, it’s about presenting a perspective more than it is presenting wisdom. To me, wisdom is personal and often time unknowable unless you have had the same experience. Reading about someone else’s hard-won knowledge and deep truth is very different from experiencing my own gathering of knowledge and deep truth.

I like the idea. I like the thought. But I’m not entirely sure the questions are leading us to save wisdom.

We own About a Boy on DVD and watch it once a year, usually around Thanksgiving. We’ve seen it so many times that we say the lines with the characters. It’s a little Rocky Horror-esque. Last year, we had trouble with the DVD machine, but the Wolvog set us up on his PS4, which doubles as a DVD reader.

This year, I looked to see if any of the streaming services had it so we wouldn’t have to use the PS4, but it was only available to rent or buy.

Reader, we ended up buying the movie again.

I’ve hit a wall where I want to own the things I like and feel resentful that I have to keep streaming services to keep accessing shows that we re-watch. I don’t need to keep everything I see, but I wish there was the option to buy it at the end. I’m also aware the concept of “buying” a digital copy is not the same as owning a physical copy. But it’s still better than a streaming service.

For instance, I would like to own The Crown and One Day from Netflix. But they’re not available for sale. Bummer.

What would you rather own than rent?

[Melissa stands up, taps her fork against her glass, and clears her throat. The conversation around the table dies down. She looks at everyone at the table.]

We do this every year: Come together as a community and have a virtual meal before we scatter to our actual meals. Unless, that is, you do not celebrate Thanksgiving. But I hope that you’ll join the table for virtual food and company even if you don’t follow this tradition offline.

We’ve virtually eaten together since 2009. That’s when this tradition began. There are some people hurting at this table. For some people, this pre-meal is what gets them through their real meal later in the week. People have written that they’ve printed out this yearly post and comments and left the paper in their purse because it helped to have a tangible reminder that there were people out there who got it. Who weren’t going to ask them when they were going to hurry up and have children. Who weren’t going to cringe when someone spoke the name of a child they lost.

We are all so different. All of us. Around this table. But we have this one facet of our lives — and yes, even though it may be a big, overpowering one for you right now, it is only one facet of who you are — where we overlap: infertility or adoption or loss. And I am so thankful, so grateful, that I found all of you. Everyone needs a You-shaped space where they can be themselves. And that’s what I have here.

So every year, I ask people to bring a virtual dish to our meal. Place it in the comment section, explaining what you brought and why. And say anything else you need to say before sitting back down to enjoy the company. Update about where you are; your emotional state.

We’re an international group, hailing from countries all around the world. So while Thanksgiving is an American tradition, I hope that everyone around the world feels as if they can participate. (Especially our Canadian neighbours who celebrated Thanksgiving weeks ago.) I’d love for your dish to come from your culture or country. Don’t worry about the contents on the table clashing.

As always, I am bringing stuffing. It’s comfort food; mushy and soggy and warm.

So what did you bring and what do you want to say to the community?

And please, start eating as everyone is introducing their dish. We don’t want the food to get cold and there are so many of us at this table. Thank you so much for coming, and I’m going to carry the warmth of this meal with me for the rest of this week.