7 Quick Takes - 2021 So Far

 

 Happy New Year!

-1-

Like most, I’m not sad to see 2020 end, but I have clenched teeth about 2021.  I am pleased to say that I am feeling even better than I did after my last post, in which I described my COVID-19 experience.  It certainly was a strange illness for me.  For weeks, I had some fatigue and serious brain fog.  My hormones went completely wacko afterwards, also, and so did my moods.  I told my friends that I was either pregnant or post-COVID.  Well, it certainly wasn’t the former as those days are behind me now (sadly).  Things are slowly coming back to normal, and I’m planning to resume running again this coming week, which will probably look a lot like walking.  My husband had an antibody test done two weeks ago and oddly enough, it came back negative, which amazed me because he certainly was exposed to the virus many times while I had it.  I attribute it to either the virus not being as highly contagious as we had thought or God’s mercy.  Probably both.

 -2-

As we usually do, my husband and I welcomed the new year in while we were sound asleep. For the past 20 years, we have helped with a local Christmas Bird Count (CBC) on New Year’s Day and this year was no exception.  This was the 25^th year for our particular count, and I have been helping since the beginning.  Back then, I was a single, energetic, eager-to-learn young woman and now I’m a married, worn-out, been-there-done-that mom. Yet, a love of birding has remained constant in my life and it always will.  I hope that someday, I am an eighty-plus year-old woman still counting birds on New Year’s Day. Hopefully some younger birders will join me and drive me around while I peer out the windshield counting starlings and turkey vultures, which is all that may be left.

The intrepid birder.

-3-

We had an epiphany!  We wrapped up our 12-Days of Christmas celebration with a sweet little Epiphany party at home and invited a couple of friends who also were now post-COVID to join us.  I made my first attempt at a charcuterie and it was a lot of fun to put together, even if not Pinterest worthy.  We also made our own chocolate coins, something I wished I’d thought of doing years earlier.  One of our kids reacts to soy lecithin, so I always have to make our own chocolate candy or buy the very expensive allergy-friendly variety.  Finally, I had my own little epiphany and realized that for the price of two bags of the allergy-friendly coins, I could buy a candy coin mold, a bag of Enjoy Life chocolate chips, some gold foil and make my own!  It was super easy and the kids enjoyed doing this as one of their “12-days of Christmas” activities.  At our 12^th Night party, we hid the coins and the kids searched for them.  Whoever found the baby in the king cake got to keep all the gold coins (if they were an Evil King) or they could choose to share their gold (if they were a Good King).  Turns out that Daddy found the baby, and while he was on the fence for a moment, he decided to be a Good King and share his wealth of soy-free chocolates.  Long live the King!

King Dad

-4-

After a much needed 2-week break, we resumed school work this past week.  The first day was as bloody as I expected it would be, and it was painful realizing that even sending them to school right now would mean still having them at home.  LOL!  But day 2 went much better after a few motivational speeches (aka, threats) from mom, and I think we are back in our groove again.  I still long for the day that I can have both boys doing schoolwork in the same room, but I have accepted that that day may never come.  For now, we are making homeschool work by having each kid in their own space and I wear the floor out going back and forth from one to the other.  You wouldn’t think I’ve been doing this for six years now based upon how every day feels like day one all over again, but I am hopeful that by the time they start high school, I’ll have a system down.  Maybe.   Strange enough, however, our kids continue to learn despite my (and their) imperfections so something must be working.

-5-

Added to the stress of homeschooling, COVID, and holidays has been my ongoing plight in trying to kill a deer this winter.   Crossbow season opened on September 19 and continues through January 18 and it looks like I will be out there in the deer blind freezing my thumbs off until the very last sunset of the hunting season.  It has been both extremely rewarding (read, time alone outside) and frustrating.  In the almost one-hundred hours now that I have spent hunting, I have seen exactly one deer.  That one deer walked up to my blind, looked at me and turned around, all within about 10 seconds.  I think they’ve got my number.  This is the second year in which I have been unsuccessful with deer hunting, and our freezer is empty of venison now, leaving me with a primeval feeling of failure. I am applying this year for a Kentucky elk permit, and my odds are about 1 in 100 in getting drawn, which I find strangely encouraging.  

One of too many sunrises I watched from the deer blind this season.

-6-

For southern Kentucky, it’s been a snowy winter.  I think we’ve had a total snow accumulation for the winter of about 5 inches.  God likes to tease us with snow down here, giving us just enough to get us excited and eager to build snowmen, but then turning off the snowfall just before the grass is covered.  So, the kids have instead turned to other snowy outdoor pursuits such as jumping on their trampoline and watching the snow fly up as they land, and throwing miniature snowballs at their grandfather as he unsuspectingly steps out onto the front porch, and tricking the dog into eating snow fluff stirred into her bowl amongst the dogfood. I am taking the boys into the forest today for a “snow hike” which is exactly what it sounds like.  The boys love to look for animal tracks and deer trails in the white stuff and sabotage their mom with snow balls down my neck collar when I’m not paying attention, then they’ll come home and muddy up the floors and toss wet clothes all around the woodstove and beg for supper.  I aim to please.

 

-7-

Christmas often brings gifts that keep on giving and such was the case with us.  A couple of weeks after Christmas Day, a friend messaged me asking if we’d like more chickens.  Did we need more chickens? No.  Do we have space for more chickens? No.   But like the homesteading gateway drug that they are, I just couldn’t turn down free chickens, especially when I found out they were Jubilee Orpingtons, a breed I’ve really wanted to raise.  So, with about 30 minutes notice, I went to pick up 7 baby chickens and built a make-shift brooder pen in our laundry room.  They are adorable and really growing fast and making me ever so grateful that my sense of smell that I lost from COVID has not completely yet returned.  My husband, who now is tasked with building a “chicken box” this weekend that will become base camp #2 for the new chickens when we move them outside, was not thrilled, but I just reminded him that thankfully, our friend didn’t offer me a free goat.  Yet.

 

Meet "Black-eyed Pea". His name comes from New Year's Day.
If you're from the south, you'll understand.

And that’s about it for 2021 from here so far.  Is the year over yet?   Just kidding. 

If you’ve made it this far, I encourage you to head over to Kelly’sblog and check out some more Quick Takes much more worthy of your time!

 

 

My COVID-19 Experience

 

Walking to Grandma's house on Christmas day.

Merry Christmas!

As Minnie Pearl would often say, I’m just so proud to be here, and I hope you are, too.  There’s nothing quite like a bout with a new to science, new to the human population virus to make one appreciate being able to get up and take a deep breath in the morning, and such was my gift this Christmas.  Thank you, Jesus!

It started with body aches.  Or maybe it was the unusual rash that appeared (and itched like crazy) on my back two days before.  Or the headache that I just couldn’t shake the day before that.  They say that COVID-19 is not like the flu, and now that I have experienced both for myself, I would agree.  Unlike the flu, which would hit me fast and hard, the COVID-19 virus came on slowly for a couple of days before really settling in.  By the time I realized I really was getting sick, I’d already gone hiking with a few friends, been to the grocery, and kissed my husband and hugged on my kids.  And yes, I wore a mask to the grocery, social-distanced, all that.  Thankfully, nobody I was in close contact with during that time got sick (even the employee who helped me use the self-checkout at the grocery).

I know it is starting to sound cliche’, but I have no idea how I got it.  The two weeks prior, I hadn’t been within 6-feet of anyone unmasked outside of my immediate family, with three exceptions, and those three people were not ill.  Perhaps one of those three was an asymptomatic carrier, but if that were the case, I would think others in their social circles would also be getting COVID-19, and that does not seem to be the case (I live in a small town so everyone knows who everyone hangs with around here, LOL!).

Anyhow, I wonder if I may have been exposed to the virus months ago and it lingered in my body until my immune system weakened.  And that doesn’t take much, as my body already struggles with an auto-immune disease diagnosed in 2002 (interstitial cystitis).  But really, I’m not sure any of that matters, anyway.  I knew that living any kind of life beyond sequestering ourselves in our house meant accepting an element of risk, and I have no regrets about that.

Uncertain of exactly when my “Day 1” began, we quarantined for longer than the recommended 14-days, which, considering our homesteading, homeschooling, teleworking lifestyle, really wasn’t all that difficult.  I spent 9 days in bed, the longest in my life, other than the period of bedrest required when I was pregnant.  My body cycled between chills, fever, and body aches that would come and go over and over for about four days.  I never had a cough, not even a tickle in my chest, and no issues with breathing.  Nasal congestion was minimal and there was no sore throat. I never lost my appetite nor my strength, which I found quite odd and very unlike the flu.  My single worse symptom was intense back pain around my kidneys, which lingered for a couple of weeks and even today, re-emerges if I over-do it and get fatigued.  After the first week of symptoms, I lost all sense of taste and smell, completely, thus confirming that I definitely had COVID-19.  One month later, I have regained only some of my taste and smell, making Christmas treats a bit of a downer, but giving me the perfect penance for Advent.

Other than that, life is mostly back to normal now.  We had the most beautiful first day of Christmas yesterday, complete with snow, which happens only about 10% of the time here in southern Kentucky.   Joah requested a snow shovel for Christmas (along with a hard hat and pruning saw…not your ordinary kid), so I guess God decided to send some snow to go along with it.  I still get easily fatigued, and Christmas Eve, with all its preparations, combined with kids pulling out all their “behaviors”, almost did me in, but my heroic husband came to my rescue and sent me to take a nap while he picked up the slack.  He has been my saving grace during all the days that I have been out-of-pocket, and in God’s mercy, he has stayed healthy and strong. 

It is not lost on me how serious this virus is for so many.  While I was ill, a friend of mine lost her mother to COVID-19 and my heart breaks for her.  Others we know of are having serious lingering effects.  I certainly do not want this post to appear to downplay its effects.  I have very elderly parents and friends with chronic conditions, and I fear for all of them, and would not knowingly put any of them at risk nor encourage them to take unnecessary risks.

Still, I am grateful now to have had it.  In some ways, it is a relief to have been through it and have it over with, much as having a root canal or giving birth feels.  I often reflect on my life and think about all the times God has given me another day; times when only my guardian angels or modern medicine have saved me.  I’ve been living on borrowed time for a long time now, and I am thankful once again to be able to fight another day.  I guess God has more work for me to do.

I pray that you have a most blessed Christmas season, and I will see you in the coming year, Lord willin’. 

 

Pleasure Without The Pain

The morning sun was warm on my face this morning as I stepped outside.  I should have been deer hunting, considering the mornings that are above freezing during a November deer season are few and far between. Yet, as much as I love watching the sun come up and hearing the forest come to life, I also hate cold toes and frozen fingers.  This morning, I could have had the pleasure without the pain.  But instead, I slept in, thinking only about the pain I was escaping instead of the joy I may have been missing.    

Novembers in Appalachia usually go in one of two directions climatologically.  Some years, we have days upon days of cold, cloudy, wet weather with gray trees silhouetted by gray skies.  Other years, we have starry mornings, bright blue skies and days upon days of sunshine.  There usually is no middle ground in an Appalachian November; the days are either extremely depressing or incredibly uplifting.  Perhaps it is in God’s mercy that he chose to give us the latter for 2020. 

The kids and I have made the most of these extended Indian summer days.  We’ve taken up a new hobby:  mountain biking.  Yesterday, we biked almost 10 miles, half on trails and half on roads.  The week before that, we did 8 miles on backroads through the forest, and the week before that, 4 miles to the river and back.  Other than a few “Oh s#$%” moments and an aching tailbone at the end of the day, it has been glorious.  I had forgotten what it felt like as a child to climb on a bike and race down the road, wind in my face, feeling like I was escaping the confines of my home and the reality of my world.  How ironic that as a 51-year old housewife, I still feel the same.  

On each of our rides, we inevitably pass a cemetery or two.   Appalachian forests are full of cemeteries.  I was pleased with my boys when, without prompting, they stopped their bikes at each cemetery to offer a prayer for the dead.  Earlier in the month, we spent All Souls' Day making a pilgrimage to five cemeteries, saying a decade of the rosary at each.  The kids made gravestone rubbings and recorded the names of whomever they felt led by the Holy Spirit to pray for.  When we returned home that evening, we wrote those names on our Remembrance Candle and have lit it each night as we prayed for all those on it. Since that day, we’ve written the names of three more friends on that candle who have passed on to eternal life since the month began.  I often wonder who’s name will be next.  If 2020 has made me aware of anything, it is that.

I made my weekly run to the grocery store this morning as I do most Saturday mornings.  The store was already crowded, despite it being only 8:30 a.m.   Old ladies were buying frozen pie crusts, one young couple was debating about the size of turkey to buy, and the onion and yam kiosk overflowed to capacity.  As I scanned my groceries at the self-checkout, I chatted with the employee who is there every Saturday and knows my routine.  We know each other by name now, and always enjoy making small talk.  Today, she told me that it was on Thanksgiving Day last year that her husband went to the hospital and I saw her eyes fall.  I did not ask any questions.  I already knew that today, she is a widow. 

I took the mac n cheese, Vienna sausages and tuna fish that I’d bought at the grocery and dropped them off at the Blessing Box.  Noticing that someone had left trash around the base of the statue of the Blessed Mother nearby, I walked over to her and picked it up.  The sun was even warmer now, and when I stopped to remove my jacket, I noticed a middle-aged lady in a motorized wheelchair had already spotted me placing food in the Blessing Box and was approaching it.  I smiled at her and waved and I suppose she smiled back behind the mask she was wearing.  I finished cleaning up around the statue and noticed that people had been putting small stones around our Blessed Mother’s feet.  As I prepared to leave, I checked the Blessing Box and it was already empty again. 

And now, I sit in our local library, mandatory mask on my face, typing quietly in the corner.  The ladies at the front desk discuss the people they know who have COVID-19 and I think about my own friend who often hikes with me on Saturday mornings, but today, is in quarantine on this lovely weekend.  Sitting here, I look at the periodicals in the magazine rack:  TIME magazine has a cover photo of Biden and Harris with the headline “Time to Heal”;  National Geographic proclaims “A World Gone Viral”, Working Mother magazine asks the question “Now What?” and Liberty magazine ponders “The Collapse of Liberal Democracy?”  Next to the magazines stand three large racks of paperback novels, all with broken spines and worn-out covers, evidence that they are clearly the most-read books in the entire library.  They are divided into two major categories:  romance novels on two racks, westerns on the other.  Escapism for each gender.

After this, I’ll return home.  We are making a brisket for supper and inviting a family to join us.  They, like us, homeschool, and share much of our philosophy, not to mention a love of good BBQ. This past summer, they spent most of their time hiking the Appalachian Trail.  When not hiking, they were camping near the trail, performing “trail magic” for other hikers, which basically means, meeting long-distance hikers along the trail and providing them with hot meals and snacks, shuttles and friendly and encouraging conversation. He’s a military veteran who speaks his mind but makes a lot of sense.  He has already been suspended on social media twice, or maybe it’s three times now.  I’m starting to lose count.  He and his wife are pretty sure their family had COVID-19 last month but did not get tested.  They isolated and rode it out, like most of us will have to do. 

So, I will head home and make a cake and some beans to go along with the meat-fest my husband is preparing.  We’ll enjoy sitting in this warm November sunshine and chatting while the kids do flips on the trampoline and race bikes.  A friend told me that we should never have gotten that trampoline, by the way, because they are so dangerous.  She’ll never let her daughter on one, she said.  I don’t doubt she’s right.  And yesterday, flying down the hill on that mountain bike, I saw myself for a second heading to the ER, or one of my kids.  Heck, we’ve already spent most of 2020 nursing my son’s broken elbow, thanks to a bike accident he had in late April.   But I doubt my friend has ever done a flip on the trampoline or flown down a hill on her bike. "Couch potatoes are the new heroes of 2020" was a headline I saw this past week.

Today is supposed to be the last warm and sunny day we have for a while.  This week will bring cloudy skies and rain.  Deer gun season will end this coming weekend, and the Christmas music will start playing in the stores.   I don’t expect I’ll be able to get another bike ride in with the boys for quite some time now, maybe not until spring.  I fear it will be a long winter, once it finally arrives.