Mourning 2020

I'm not a believer in the "this is my year" mentality. I don't ever think that an entire year will yield good or bad things. At least, that's what I believed before 2020.

I was looking forward to 2020. I was looking forward to traveling to different places in Europe this Summer, family coming for visits, exploring our host country, book club meetings, starting my first year teaching in an actual classroom (or at all), date nights with my husband, planting flowers, and all the other wonderful things that were going to be a part of my year. 

I know that collectively we all are feeling the loss of 2020. We are all tired of hearing the words coronavirus, social distancing, stay at home, mask, hand sanitizer, etc. We're fatigued from staring at screens and doing everything from our own homes. 

I know it's a great privilege to simply be bored and not having to risk our health working or being worried about missing another paycheck or mortgage payment. I know that what I'm going through isn't that bad.

I also know that it's okay to be sad, to use defense mechanisms like numbing out and eating too many comfort foods. I'm trying to accept where I'm at each day. But it's hard. And I know everyone else is feeling it too.

I am mourning 2020 and all of the expectations and excitement that I thought were going to come with it. I'm going to miss sharing my travel pictures and what our trip was like on this blog (although I still have one from when Brandon's cousin visited that I haven't posted yet). 

The most we can hope for at this point in our lives is to be secure and okay. And I'm okay. Not thriving, not progressing, not spending lockdown becoming amazing at something, but just being. And that's okay for now. 

Book Club: The Color Purple

I am really behind on writing about my reading. It seems especially redundant to write a blog post about our January book after we already had our meeting but this is one of my favorite books I've read as an adult and I want to take the time to write about it. This month, Morgan chose The Color Purple by Alice Walker. I was the only one in the group to have read it already but I really enjoyed being able to read it through a second time and truly soak in how amazing Walker's novel is.

Normally I hate a book that relies too heavily on dialogue for character development, but Walker manages to make Celie, Shug, Albert, and all the other characters feel like real people and not just an accent. Celie is warm, intelligent, flawed, and transformed by trauma in an authentic manner. 

One of my favorite aspects of Walker's novel is the diary format and how it spans so much of Celie's life, hitting the important parts and cutting out anything that would make the story superfluous. And the way the second half entwines the lives of Celie and Nettie even though their experiences and maturation are so different.

This book hits on some heavy controversial issues. I find it fascinating to think of a relationship being formed between a lesbian and bisexual women, both of whom are married to men, and there being very little homophobia or outrage present. I loved how normalized their relationship became.

Another controversial topic was the point of religion and God. Walker allowed us to see the transformation of religious thinking that happened throughout not only Celie's life and experience, but also Nettie's as she experienced being a missionary. I loved how we saw them come to the conclusion that God was nature, love, and life instead of the white man portrayed from the pulpit through two completely different life experiences. 

And of course the famous and wondrous quote:

"I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple and don't notice it."

I love this view of religion. I've identified as an atheist for quite awhile now but I think if I had been raised with this view of God, maybe I wouldn't have taken that label.

One way that Walker subtly shows who Celie is as a person, is in how Celie refuses to name men in writing when she's speaking for herself. She refuses to name her husband, Albert, and even makes a point of forgetting his name when Shug uses it. I love how Walker uses this tactic to allow Celie to have control and agency over her own life. By not naming her oppressor, she takes away his power. It isn't until Albert apologizes and stops trying to control her, that Celie calls him by his name and claims him as an equal. This subtle use of language conveys such a huge message about Celie and her will and character.

I understand why The Color Purple is one of the most reread books out there. Walker manages to do something most writers can't, write a book that's language is simple and unfettered by pretension but conveys a beautiful and powerful story.

Edinburgh, Scotland

I really procrastinated on this post. I feel like I have done absolutely nothing for weeks. Reveling in the laziness and lack of productivity that is Winter Break.

But before the holidays happened, Brandon and I celebrated six years of marriage.

I'm not going to get too sappy about our 9 years together with six of them being married and in this crazy military life. All I will say is that I'm happy I married him on that icy cold Friday the 13th and I'm so proud of all of our accomplishments and adventures we've had since that day. It was also fortunate that this was the year that we got to celebrate our December 13th anniversary on a Friday again. We laugh in the face of superstitions.

So to celebrate our anniversary and because I am itching to explore the UK and Europe, we decided to drive up to Edinburgh... in December.

We came in relatively late once darkness hit. We drove into the city of Edinburgh which I don't recommend because the streets are tight and parking is insane. But we found a car park and started walking around the city trying to find the Christmas Market. Because of a need to urinate and being hungry, we stopped at a kebab restaurant where we had jalapeno doner quesadillas that were amazing. Then we made our way to the Edinburgh Christmas Market, getting to enjoy the sight of Edinburgh Castle lit up at night with lights and lasers and the beautiful architecture of this bustling city.

The Christmas Market was quite a bit bigger than the one in France but it didn't have the same charm and had the same booths repeated throughout. I can't wait to get to a German Christmas Market as they originate from there.

After we walked around the city in the dark for a while, we made out way to our cozy AirBNB flat, The Leith Snug. This flat was gorgeous and I would highly recommend it if you ever visit Edinburgh (although it is pretty far away from the city center and you will need to take the bus or drive and park to get to the heart of Edinburgh). This little 'snug' was the perfect place for us to spend our anniversary.

On our actual Friday the 13th anniversary, the weather was gorgeous. Sunny skies, relatively warm, only a bit of wind. We explored Edinburgh Castle (do all castles start to seem the same after a while?), walked the Royal Mile and perused a few shops, stopped at the gate of Holyrood Palace, the Queen's Summer home, and walked a ridiculously convoluted path (thanks, Google Maps) to the National Museum of Scotland which is huge and diverse and is definitely worth a walkthrough. After that, our feet were killing us so we made our way to a ramen restaurant on our way back to the car park. Best ramen I've had since leaving Japan. It was so good. 

On Saturday, the weather was not nearly as good to us as on Friday. It was crazy windy and spitting rain and cold. So we decided to enjoy a late start to our day and had breakfast at the cozy restaurant under our flat and it was delicious. I had poached eggs with roasted potatoes and red pepper sauce that was so good. And then we made our way to the Greyfriar Bobby section of Edinburgh to meet for The Potter Trail tour. These tours are donation-based as they wanted everyone to be able to enjoy tours in Edinburgh. Our tour guide, Sam, was so enthusiastic and knowledgeable and I learned so much about Rowling and her connection to the city of Edinburgh as well as myths about her. He was such a good tour guide and you got these little wooden wands to carry around (which felt cheesy but Sam was so animated and fun that I felt less self-conscious than usual). You get to see many of the sites that inspired characters, settings, and plots in the Harry Potter books and it was just so informative and fun. Definitely go if you visit and I hope you have better weather than we did.

After that tour, we stopped in a Mexican restaurant which I wasn't expecting much from but that was incredibly good and satisfying after such a long walk in the cold.

And we ended our evening with a Ghost Tour that was also donation-based on the Royal Mile. Our tour guide wasn't as good for this one but it was still interesting and fun and worth our time.

And the next day as left our cozy Leith Snug, we said goodbye to Scotland. We drove back home and had to stop along the way for some beautiful footage of the winter coastline as we listened to bagpipe music. 

It was a lovely visit and I know that I have to come back to Scotland in warmer weather to see the Highlands. 

Death in the Family

Today, I took the Christmas tree down. For so many weeks, this little Christmas tree has been such a joy and source of comfort for me through these long winter evenings.

Christmas used to mean the smell of woodsmoke, the thrill of presents under the tree, the joy of family spending time together, eating, talking, and being close.

Now, Christmas is a holiday that I tend to opt-out of, to do as little as possible now that we live so far away. 

This was the first year in a long time that I had even put up a tree. That I had even tried to capture the joy of Christmas without family, children, or presents.

And it brought me a lot of comfort to see my fancy lit-up tree each night. 

And then I took it down. 

The day that I had been informed that my great-grandfather had passed.

My Grandpa Ivey.

Being far away when death and heartbreak hit is a lot easier than one might imagine.

It means that I get to disconnect to a certain extent.

Not being around the emotions of everyone as they grieve allows me to do so more quietly and less emotionally.

Grandpa Ivey was a sick man. He was an old man. He was suffering and although we might be sad to lose him, death was probably the preferable outcome.

So I took the Christmas tree down, bit by bit thinking about this man and my family.

Thinking about all the times that I didn't visit him in the nursing home because it was hard for me. Thinking about all the times I did visit him or he was brought to my Mom's for holidays or parties and I felt like he didn't recognize me anymore.

Thinking of all the times that I wrote letters to him when we were far from home. Telling him about Okinawa and Idaho and how I was trying to finish school.

Remembering how I stopped sending those letters once he was put in the home. Thinking that he was no longer lucid enough to care about my life or anything that could be said between the pages of a card. 

Thinking about all the times I visited when we came home from our various duty stations and being able to see the deterioration of a man that I loved and always tried to include in my life, even as a young child.

We shared stories of military life, Asia, school, and teaching.

Until we didn't. 

Or he couldn't. 

Until he couldn't speak coherently but looked at me with blue eyes that were full of pride, love, and sadness. Eyes of a man that were in the midst of suffering and at the edge of death.

I do not grieve for his death because I know that, in the end, this concludes his suffering. No matter what kind of afterlife you believe in, we agree that suffering comes to an end as breath leaves the body.

But as I took the baubles and bulbs off the Christmas tree, delicately and mindfully, I was reminded of all the ways he has shown up in my life as I've grown up and even moved away. 

I thought about my Nana and Mom who are grieving now and how little I can do from this far away. That's the hard part. I can't do anything to ease their suffering or love them from afar. 

I thought of the huge family that exists because of this man, three daughters, sons-in-laws, and countless grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even, great-great-grandchildren.

And I let the tears run down my face for a man that I loved and for the people who loved him who are hurting right now. 

Taking the tree down felt like a reminder of how life changes, evolves, and the passage of time. A reminder that all good things must come to an end.

Grief, although about the one who has passed, reminds us how we didn't show up in the ways we wanted or we find comfort in the ways we did. 

Grief and death are such a reminder to love the ones you love while you still can. To show up in the ways that you won't regret later. That it is in the common mundane moments of everyday life that you show people who you are and how you love them. 

To my Grandpa Ivey, I loved you and I hope you rest in peace. 

Arras, France Christmas Market

When a friend told me that her Dad works for a coach service and they may have extra tickets to a French Christmas Market and asked if I would like to go, I jumped at the chance.

As a passionate francophile growing up, France has always been the ultimate destination. Although this was just a day trip with a long time traveling in a bus, it was such a splendid experience.

I got to use my rudimentary French (that I should probably brush up on before going back) with pardonez and excusez-Moi as we jostled through the crowded market.

I ordered Moules a la creme et Frites (mussels in cream sauce and fries) after walking around the city trying to find a French restaurant that had empty seats. 

I don't think I'll ever get tired of the beautiful architecture in these European cities. I am enamored by the beauty of old buildings.

The smell of fresh-baked bread, mulled wine, and sweets wafted through the air as we wandered around the city. We passed so many beautiful patisseries and boulangeries that were just as much a feast for my eyes as my nose. 

The Christmas Market was packed with people. So much that it was difficult to view the goods that were being sold but we did see quite a bit and I even bought myself a beautiful set of Matryoshka dolls. My mother-in-law has a beautiful gold set that she bought when they lived in Europe that I've always admired and so when I found a set of natural wood with burned floruishes and gold paint for thirty-five euros, I knew I had to have one of my own. It was the only thing I bought that wasn't food and I was very happy with it. 

We finished the evening with a visit to a patisserie so that I could grab some pastries to bring back for Brandon and I as well as to enjoy one of the best hot chocolates I've ever had. I tried to order in my broken French until the owner quickly told me to speak in English. I'm sure I was annoying her with my slow speech trying to figure out exactly what I wanted. 

All in all, it was a lovely day out and I was charmed by this little piece of France that I was able to see even if the coach did make me sick and it was such a long day.

A Drowned Maiden's Hair

I said I was going to write more about my reading. So here we are.

I don't think I'll hit my reading goal of 52 books this year. It's okay. I can't be expected to meet it every single year but I am a bit disappointed in myself. 

I've just found it so much harder to get into books this year. There have been so many from my classroom library that I have picked up only to abandon a chapter in. And that's okay too. I would tell my students that it is okay to abandon books when they don't work for you because you want to move on to something that does.

And I did. 

I am officially a huge fan of Laura Amy Schlitz's writing. 

I read her book, Splendors and Glooms last year and was mesmerized by the gothic victorian setting and the mysterious yet magical plot. 

Then, I picked up A Drowned Maiden's Hair: A Melodrama not expecting much.

I was so wrong. This book is excellent from the start. Maud is instantly a likable naughty orphan who is adopted by the three elderly Hawthorne sisters (reluctantly by two). 

They deem her their "secret child" and keep her out of view of others while lavishing her with dresses, books, and gifts. 

Why must Maud be a secret child?

A bit of a SPOILER ALERT.

The Hawthorne sisters are crooks who deceive rich grieving people into believing their loved ones are contacting them from the dead.

The sisters' stage seances with all kinds of tricks to fool their clients into believing they are true mediums able to speak to the dead. 

They have adopted Maud because they need a child actor to play the part of a girl who drowned after a row with her mother. They need her to carry out the "family business."

Maud, desperate for love and family and with tendencies towards mischief, falls into her role quickly and easily but after a disastrous event that showed her who truly loves her, the family business may be in jeopardy.

This story was so unique. I've never read a children's book quite like it. It had all the makings of so many other stories: an orphan, mistreated by adults, the reckoning moment, and the benevolent savior but the way Schlitz portrayed the characters, the need for the sisters to be con artists, and the seances themselves was so interesting and unique.

I will now read anything and everything Schlitz writes because both of her novels that I've read have been amazing. I would enthusiastically put this book into the hands of a child who loves a good drama.

Forest of Dean Thanksgiving

I knew I wanted to get away this Thanksgiving. Military life is hard around the holidays. I always miss the warmth and comfort of holidays spent with family and friends and no matter how many new friends you make, it will never feel the same. I knew that I wanted to get away from the holiday expectations. I wanted to spend some quality time with my little family and I wanted to connect with nature.

So off to the Forest of Dean we went. We rented a tiny little glamping pod at a campsite called Whitemead Forest Park. They had spots to park your caravans, bigger cabins, and a services center with a restaurant, gym, pool, and saunas. 

It was lovely. 

I think we missed the true and beautiful Autumn colors of the forest by a few weeks but they were still dazzling in their Winter beauty.

Waking up in the morning to make a cuppa tea and enjoy the sunrise with the melodious birds was exactly what my soul was looking for on this holiday meant for gratitude. 

It was strange to be stuck in this tiny cabin with no cell phone service or wifi. It made me realize how reliant we've become on our phones to entertain us constantly. It was a reminder of how often Brandon and I sit in front of screens instead of spending quality time together. 

But we found time to play cards, talk, hike, swim, and eat.

We didn't do much for our short stay but it was a restful unplugging type of break that I think we could benefit from more often.

Grateful...

Grateful for a relationship that has stood the test of time and distance. Grateful for a supportive spouse who adores me. Grateful for slow cups of tea and coffee. Grateful for a cozy home that I love. Grateful for the ability to explore, travel, and enjoy this life of ours. Grateful for the friends who have stuck by me. Grateful for a family who loves me despite my differences. Grateful for a connection to nature. Grateful for growth and change. Grateful for Luna. Grateful for books and writing. Grateful for Autumn. Grateful for my body that can move. Grateful for music and signing. Grateful for good food. Grateful for the ability to live in different places. 

Thankful for this life of mine.