Wednesday, May 6, 2020

What day is it?


What day is it?  It’s hard to keep track these days and the sameness of each day waits for me when I get up in the morning. Even when I look at the paper, or check my phone, a few minutes later, I wonder again, What day is it?
While I try to do something productive each day, whether it is work related or something that needs to be done around the house, I find it hard to concentrate. Hard to keep focused on my task.
I start a project, then get interrupted and move on to something else.

 In my home office, I have started going through all the “school and office supplies” that were located throughout the house, combining them by category, than sorting by individual types.  Over the years, Mike and I have changed jobs and changed offices. In some jobs, office supplies were provided, in others we had to bring them in ourselves. When my company closed offices recently, I brought home things that were destined for the trash if not “claimed”, that I thought should be recycled to someone who could use them. Many things were given away at that point, but I’m finding items now that got missed. Then we started going through our sons’ rooms and the things that they left behind and found more office/ school supplies. Seriously, I have 8 staple removers and 8 staplers in one pile, and I’m fairly certain that this is another stapler on the kitchen table, and one in Mike’s office as well. How many staplers and staple removers does one family need???  Now I have piles of things on every surface including the floor, and I need to finish going through the category piles and sorting into specific item / types and deciding what will be kept and what will go away. Yet, I find it too easy to get distracted by laundry and other household tasks, finding reasons to work outside while the weather is lovely and warm, by clients who need attention, or things I need to do for work.

Today


It’s almost 4 pm, and I just finished reading the morning paper. Started the day with a “town hall” meeting led by the President of Coldwell Banker Gundaker. That led to starting to check my emails; which led to watching several webnars on new tools for working virtually that we were referred to during the morning meeting. Then it was answering the phone call from the Doctor’s office, asking if I wanted next Monday’s appt rescheduled, moved to telehealth or to a phone call. Then I had to set up an account with the mail order pharmacy in case we can’t get to Scott AFB’s pharmacy with the normal hassles involved in starting up a new account and not being able to find the “right” ID number they wanted. Then back to the Doctor’s office to tell them where to send the prescription they are re-writing.  In between, being inundated with emails on both the work account and on the home account. Most I’ve reached the point of just deleting, not bothering with anything but who is sending it and the subject line. Really, how many CEO’s need to tell me what “their company” is doing about COVID 19? Or what their “new hours are”, or wouldn’t I like to buy a gift card and hope they are still in business when this is over to use it.

Getting overwhelmed with the news “updates” about COVID19 where the only thing that really changes is the numbers and the names of the latest person they assume I have heard of who has it. Trying desperately to find the work related emails that I need to deal with. Finding that the COVID19 related emails are obviously pregnant bunnies who multiply before I even get through them all, causing my inbox to fill faster than I can empty it. 

In between all the emails, dealing with calls and texts from clients who need information about how their closings will be handled or on how I’m going to market their homes and help them find a new home in the middle of all this. In addition, I’m trying to spend a bit of time each day going through the contacts list on my cell phone – editing and removing people who are deceased and military and business contacts where I know they moved on to different bases and jobs long ago, sending notes to friends and clients asking how they are doing if I haven’t heard from them in awhile (or ones where I know they have medical or other issues going on and need someone checking in on them).
Somewhere in that, I washed the dishes (since my dishwasher decided to start leaking all over my hardwood floors a few days ago and while the repairman came out, he had to order parts) and read a few pages of the paper and ??  what was it that I did??  Oh yes, I checked the mail and started and switched the laundry and sorted more things to get rid of. wooooooooooo.  Finally took a “break” and finished the paper. At least its leftovers tonight, so I don’t have to worry about figuring out dinner, though I did inform my husband last night that the Berry –Rhubarb Chocolate Crumble I had made was a fruit side dish not a dessert, so even if he has given up desserts for Lent, he would eat my creation.

Is it any wonder that we’re all overwhelmed?  And I don’t have children at home to be home schooling and taking care of through all this! I admire the people who always work from home and have figured out how to balance their time doing it, obviously, it’s NOT me.

As I sit at the kitchen table trying to deal with everything going on around me, I keep an eye out for my neighbor to appear on her driveway, then I bound to the door, to talk between my deck and her driveway, the yard between us over a 6 ft distance.  A REAL LIVE PERSON!!!  Where I’m on a REAL LIVE CONVERSATION WITH HER!! Not on a virtual platform or over a telephone line or via a text!

The news is joking that in 9 months there will be corona babies, other reports say that statistics show that the babies show up 9 months AFTER things end (or 9 months after stress levels are finally lowered), others point out that in China the divorce lines are extremely long at the moment. I can understand as my husband is has been grating on my nerves recently.  Last night, he asked me if I know how a dog must feel when the front door is opened and the dog escapes from the house. When I didn’t get it, he had to point out that being cooped up inside due to the virus is like a dog being cooped up in the house, wanting any chance to escape and say HI to others or explore the wonderful scents outside.

The scents and colors and sounds outside – I know I need to work, but they are so tempting. The yellow daffodils and yellow and purple crocus are about gone, now I have white and yellow narcissus and wild purple violets and the first of the dark purple iris have buds on them. The Forsythia is still blooming with its long waving yellow arms, while my neighbors white and pink tulip magnolias are starting to lose their petals in the wind and come drifting over to my yard. The redbuds are out in all their glory, while the dogwoods have gone from the creamy yellow unopened buds to white flowers and my lilac bush is filled with bright green leaves waiting for the light purple buds to form and open. Mike is already pointing out that he’s going to have to mow the yard soon and the neighbor behind us has already been out on his riding mower.  Meanwhile the birds congregate on my deck, delighting in the seed I put out for them and scolding me when the feeders are empty. Already checking out the bird houses, as potential new homes for their coming families.  My senses love the Spring weather we’ve been having, all but the senses affected by my allergies that hate the spring pollens and the mold spores that all the rains are bringing to life, but the first outweighs the second and I rejoice in the Spring beauty around me. I am so grateful to be able to enjoy it.

I keep telling myself, later I will go for a walk outside and occasionally I make it, but most days, by the time I get done with work related things, and then whatever personal project I am trying to accomplish that day (generally cleaning out areas of the house and piling up things to donate away)–Mike has already called to say he’s on the way home.  For while I toil at home each day, he heads to the family farm in Jefferson County, where he’s isolated from the rest of humanity and spends his days putting in new fence posts and taking care of needed projects there that have been ignored far too long. As I’ve sat here writing this (and sending out docusign docs to get them signed on one contract and scheduling a closing and getting another cup of tea and answering back a few necessary emails), the time has slipped away and now at 6:30, Mike has called to say he’s on the way home, so I have 45 minutes to clear my work stuff off the kitchen table, set it for dinner and figure out what I need to fix to go with the leftover roast Mike fixed a couple days ago.

Chuck it, I’m going to end this and go sit on the deck for a bit in the sun and warmth before it starts getting cooler.  Tomorrow will be another day and I will once more put on my “big girl panties” and get through it and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get a bit more done tomorrow then I got done today. But in any case, we’ll be one day closer to this being over and one day closer to figuring out what the next new normal will be.  Till Tomorrow, Be Safe, Keep Washing Your Hands (sing Happy Birthday to yourself 2 times as you wash), and practicing safe distancing! 


I'm Really Not a Bad Mother


I am REALLY not a bad mother, at least, I don’t think I’m a bad mother, but there are those times, when I shake my head and think that everyone else must think I’m a horrible mother.  I mean really, doesn’t everyone’s child fall into the Siberian White Tiger enclosure at the Miami Zoo at least once in their lives? It wasn’t like I pushed him.  It was his brother who accidently did that.
It started out as such an innocent day. The Miami Zoo was having a GRAND opening of its new Bird Cage, so I took my small children to the Zoo for the festivities.  We had a lovely time seeing the animals enroute to the Bird Cage and the new Bird Cage

As a souvenir of the day, the Zoo gave everyone who attended the grand opening a ZOOBook about Parrots and my children left the enclosure, in the highest of spirits clutching their ZooBooks as they ran ahead of me, toward the fairly new White Siberian Tiger enclosure.  The Zoo was soo proud of their new Siberian White Tigers as we were one of the few places where they could be seen.
When Brig and Nathan got to the Tiger exhibit, they climbed up on a bench so they could see over the fence and down into the enclosure.  Brig turned around to see where I was, then arms outstretched like an airplane, he swung himself back around to see the Tigers. Inadvertently, as he swung his arms, he hit his little brother and knocked Nathan into the enclosure.
I’m not sure I ever ran that fast before or since. Luckily, Nathan had fallen over the fence, and onto the grassy area (probably about a foot wide), that was between the fence and the very sheer drop into the moat where the Tigers liked to swim. Nathan, contrary to his normal habits, lay fairly still in the grass and I was able to reach over the fence and grab his arms and haul him back up and over the fence.
Nathan was obviously upset, but not at falling into the enclosure. Rather he was upset that his new ZooBook had fallen further down into the enclosure and was now on the “island” with the Tigers, rather than in his hand.  He WANTED his ZooBook back. I offered him mine instead, but he refused it. I explained that I couldn’t go into the enclosure and get his ZooBook back for him. He didn’t waiver. I tried to distract him with promises of seeing other animals, of ice cream, with my ZooBook (which was identical to his). It didn’t work. There was no distracting him, no comforting him, no bargains I could make with him. With a 2 year old’s fierceness, he screamed, cried and  demanded HIS Zoobook, all the rest of the way across the Zoo as I carried the struggling child to the car and got him strapped into his car seat.
I don’t even remember the rest of the day. Suffice it to say, we got home, the kids got fed and put to bed and by morning, Nathan had stopped complaining about not having HIS ZooBook. 
I don’t remember if I had started the subscription to ZooBooks for the boys before that incident or after, but by the time they were too old for them, they had the entire set of the magazine and they loved them – reading about the animals and birds and dinosaurs and doing the activities that came with the magazines. Today, instead of one magazine, they have “ZooBooks” based on age: Zoobies for 0-3 yr olds, Zootles for 3-6, Zoodinos for 5+ and ZooBooks for 6-12.  I ordered subscriptions for my 6 Great Nieces and Nephews today. Hopefully they will enjoy them as much as Brig and Nathan did and they will never fall into a White Siberian Tiger enclosure or any other dangerous animal enclosure (I’m ok with their being in children’s zoo enclosures and penguin enclosures).



The Labyrinth that is my day


Marketing is always on my “to-do” list.  As a Realtor, I only get paid when a home closes.  I can market my services to someone for years, only to have them, when they are ready to work with a realtor, chose the first one who crosses their path, so I have to constantly keep marketing to keep my name first in their minds.  In today’s COVID19 stress filled world, though, it is hard to know how to do that. There are a massive amount of companies and “speakers” who want to tell me how to do it and more importantly sell me THEIR product to help me do it, but in my head, I keep pointing out to myself, that we’ve never been in this situation before, so you are only guessing on what will work, you really don’t know any more than I know and am already doing.  That said, the company keeps providing me with more and more resources to help me not only do business in a virtual reality real estate world, but to market myself in it as well, but that does get back to all those webnars, podcasts and virtual meetings that I need to sit through.
Making masks has a certain appeal, as I can actually finish several masks and see progress!! Rather than just feel like I am moving things around, once I’ve found the right pattern and the right materials, of course.
Over the past few years, Mike has gradually taken over doing more and more of the cooking, but now I find myself looking for something to creatively fix – today I actually went out to the yard and picked wild violets, because a recent St Louis Mag online article gave a recipe for wild violet simple syrup and I thought to myself, why not? I have plenty of wild violets in the yard and I have the rest of the ingredients on hand.  Not quite sure what I’m going to do with it once I have it made (the accompanying article was about making cocktails with it, and I don’t plan to do that, but maybe adding it to a baked good for a difference in flavor might be interesting…… I digress again.
Where was I??  Oh yes, trying to stay focused. I feel like I am in a maze, rather than a labyrinth, since it’s easy to get lost in a maze as you have different paths you can chose, while a labyrinth has only one path that leads you to the center and back out again as you meditate and lean on GOD for help. Perhaps, I should draw a path in my head that goes through the rooms on my house as a labyrinth and leads me to the center and back out again, rather than the convoluted, winding, twisting paths that I keep making that remind me of the paths little Jeffrey in Family Circus makes as he goes through the neighborhood on his way home, making a short trip into a very long one…  But that’s what I just did, didn’t I?  My short little tale got longer and longer as I digressed and my mind splintered and wove its way through what I was trying to say. 
Before I digress once more, it’s time to say Adieu and go seek my labyrinth to bring me back home and into focus.


History Repeats


It’s been awhile, since I’ve sat down to record what’s going on. “Things” have gotten in the way. From a celebration parade for a 100 year young friend, to work, on. Truth be told, it’s hard to focus my mind on what to write, though I know from experience, that once I sit down and start writing it will pour out of me.  But somehow, it’s different right now.  I try to find things I can put in perspective, parallels I can use to what is going on around me, and what I find seem jumbled, since there seems to be nothing to put this in perspective, no parallels from my past to use.

I think about keeping track of days and times and how difficult that is right now. Much easier when we have set schedules for what day we do what and what time things routinely occur.  When we lived in Korea, we worked 6 days a week and I had trouble keeping track of the days, so Mike bought be a Seiko watch with the day and date on it as well as the time. Now my FitBit watch tells me the date and the time, but I have to open my phone to see what the day is.  Saturday’s we would work a half day, then I would go to the base beauty shop (we might have had less than a couple dozen women on base, but we had a beauty shop), and for a few dollars, I would get my hair done, a manicure, a facial and a massage once a week.  Those days of pampering myself seem so far away now.

Shortages of food and supplies? When Desert Shield and Desert Storm were going on (Aug ’90 – Feb’91), I was living in Germany working in the Kaiserslautern Military Community (at one point in time, Kaiserslautern had a larger population of  American citizens living there then anywhere  outside of the CONTINENTAL United States – ie, more Americans than Alaska or Hawaii had.) When the war started, there were shortages in the commissary, not of food as much as cleaning supplies and the families left behind in Germany after the military deployed to Desert Storm were told it was because the shipments had followed the deploying troops. We honestly didn’t believe that they needed our family size household cleaners in the Desert, but we did believe that the things that would normally have been shipped to Germany were still sitting on the docks in the US, while they prioritized sending other supplies to the troops in the Desert first. 

Then there was Korea – where just about everything was rationed.  If you wanted to buy coffee or tea, those were rationed to prevent them from being sold on the blackmarket downtown (I remember getting to the tiny shoppette we had once without a current ration card and the gentleman behind me in line graciously using his tea ration to help me out.) Shampoo and cosmetics however weren’t rationed and I would often see a GI walking out of the Shoppette with a case of shampoo that would have lasted me (with my waist length hair) for several months and he would be back a day later to buy another case.  Now if you can find soap, kleenix or toilet paper at the grocery store, you are limited to one or two “packages” of it, so you hope to find a “multipack” rather than a single pack when you go shopping.

When I was in Korea, we had an annual Team Spirit exerc ise with a combined force of South Korean and American Troops close to 200,000 men and women. I managed the largest food service operation in the Pacific at the time, at Osan Air Base.  We had an issue one year with the supplies arriving in time for the exercise and a water shortage, so  I ended up using a wartime priority to order the papergoods (plates, cups, flatware, etc) and other supplies needed to feed the troops. What I used was a minor part of the system that is being used now to try to get supplies manufactured and sent to the right areas in a timely manner.

Stockpiled supplies.  I remember being at MIZZOU in the early 70’s in the ROTC program and the NCO’s going through the stockpiled supplies of C-Rations in the basement of Crowder Hall and pulling out the cigarettes and chocolate. The US Military has always stockpiled resources. I worked for the Army’s 29th Area Support Group in Germany after I got off active duty. Their primary job was to maintain the stockpiles, than when Desert Shield and Desert Storm happened, that transitioned into sending those supplies to the Desert.  The stockpiled supplies, foods and medicines would be inspected on a regular basis and while some would be rotated out and used with the incoming supplies at the local bases, we typically wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the new and old items. Only antibiotics, hormones and a very few other medications couldn’t be used years after their use by date.  And foods, unless the package was bulging or leaking or rusting, could almost always be used.  Use by dates and best use by dates, don’t mean a food is bad, just that it’s quality might not be the same level as when it was originally packaged.  No one questioned using 5,000 masks found in a crypt in the National Cathedral that have been stockpiled and forgotten for over 10 years.

Lack of coordination? We moved from Hahn Air Base to Ramstein Air Base right after USAFE Headquarters was bombed in 1981. While we weren’t at Ramstein when the bombing occurred, we heard endless tales of the missteps that occurred. The Terrorist Bombers hadn’t realized that the base was so large, that the “operational side” of the base came to work at 7:30am, but the “Headquarters side” of base didn’t come to work until 8 am. They timed the bomb to go off right before 7:30 in the parking lot, figuring that they would get mass casualties with everyone rushing to get to work on time. Instead, only a few early birds were around.  The Bombers, left the base right away and the police later found evidence that they had gone right outside the base gates and watched from the Mackenbach Woods next to the base.  Immediately after the bombing, as shock and disbelief set in, NO ONE on the base took charge.  Finally a Lt Col took over and started directing operations. As a result, no one initially notified the German authorities.  Those precious few minutes were enough for the bombers to get away. Is the lack of international coordination allowing the virus to “get away” from the scientific community that is seeking a vaccine and cure?

Attacking the most vulnerable? When we lived in Germany, the Bader Meinhof Gang and the Rote Armee Fraktion (Red Army Faction)-RAF, was very prevalent. They bombed hospitals, schools, US military clubs, the October Fest and were the ones responsible for the bombing of USAFE Headquarters. For the most part, we did our best to ignore them.  One person (other than the poor guy who was murdered in order to get his uniform and ID to get the terrorists on base and the really high ranking officers), wasn’t their target.  (We rolled our eyes when told we weren’t supposed to hang uniforms on the outside laundry lines because they might be stolen and used to enter the base.)  The object of terrorism is to terrorize, and how do you best terrorize?  You attack the defenseless and show the defenders that they can’t protect their most vulnerable members.  Isn’t that what COVID 19 is doing to us? Attacking first our most vulnerable elderly population and showing us we can’t protect them?

Shelter in Place? When I was a small child, I lived in French Morocco during the Revolution as the Arabs fought to be free of European control.  We would watch the French evacuate in one direction in their tiny little cars and the Arabs evacuate in the other direction with their donkeys and carts and we were told there was a mandatory curfew in place and we were to STAY INSIDE for our own protection.

Learning new computer programs and procedures. In the mid 1980’s, when personal computers were just starting to be used, I was responsible for computerizing the Services Division, I worked in. No one had any idea what they were doing, and the first instruction was to “format” the harddrive in increments of 7, so we all formatted our brand new hard drives at 7, which was too small to hold anything and crashed all the computers.  At which point they said increments of 7 at or above a certain number base number.  Today, I work on learning ZOOM, MS Teams, how to do Virtual Open Houses and showings and much more, each with its own blips and blurps and failure points.

Adapt our living environment?  Anyone who has ever spent time around a military person, especially one on a remote tour or long deployment to a third world country, knows that US troops are inventive and able to adapt to whatever is thrown at them and will adapt their environment to fit the situation, just as we are adapting our homes for sheltering in place, working from home, home schooling and family life right now (though having an entire room to quarantine things in for 3-4 days - up to a week or two, when you bring them home from the grocery store or they get delivered to your front door still seems a bit much to me, but my California relatives swear by it.)

As I write this, I realize that I survived all of those times and others, and I know that in a few years, I will joke about how I survived COVID 19 and the many things we did to “protect” ourselves from the unknown, some of which in hindsight will seem ridiculous (like putting pantyhose on over our masks) and  My husband keeps saying every time he walks into a store or bank wearing a mask, he expects someone to stop him.

 As someone once told me, the vacation trips that you take where everything is PERFECT, may be great, but they don’t make for great stories afterward, while the times that tried us and where we really wondered if we’d make it to the other side are the trips that we are still talking about years later, when we can look back in hindsight and laugh at the perils we stood up to and fell down against, but we survived through them and have reached a point where we can laugh as we talk about them.  It may take awhile, but we will find a vaccine, develop herd immunity and come out on the other side of this stronger for the lessons we’ve learned about what we can survive and how inventive we can become.