What it Takes

What does it take for a dormant blog to spring back to life? (Woah, one post is not yet "springing" but here we are.)

• Global pandemic. 
• A friend's comment that this would a good time to start a journal. 
• Irritation with the melee of Facebook and now having too many friends to express my real opinions. Seems like it'll prompt an argument or trouble at work. 
• Donald Trump and my seething anger at his arrogance and incompetence. 
• My admiration for people like Dr. Anthony Fauci and Dr. Amy Acton. 
• Isolation. (See point 1.) 
• Guilty, stupid pandemic feelings and questions that you have but can't say aloud like, "I am glad I still have my job," "We don't actually qualify for a government check (and already agreed it's not meant for us anyway) -- so don't tell me to go look in my bank account for it." Or "I am relieved that we bought toilet paper on Amazon before this all happened." (How stupid is the toilet paper hoarding??!)  And "Is it ok to shop online right now? I mean, Ann Taylor has some amazing deals."
• Anxiety that keeps me up late at night and wakes me up early in the morning, even though I think we are really ok. 
• Saying to your sister, "I may need to start blogging again." And her reply: "clairest was the best." Heart soaring. 

My guilty, stupid, self-pitying pandemic feelings could be a post to themselves. I am working from home while homeschooling an 8 year old. (This post was most relatable.) I can't count how many days I've cried. It's led to daily arguments, anger and frustration from every member of our family. Save the cats. (I mean except the cats -  they seem ok ... but maybe literally come save them, because this has got to be tough to watch.) 

On the other hand,  I found myself reflecting that I haven't spent this much time alongside Calvin since my maternity leave. (And maybe Jason never. We are on Week 5 of quarantine, I think. Our longest vacation was two weeks.) Calvin learned how to ride a bike in the now empty parking lot of a nearby office building. I jumped up in the middle of that parking lot and cheered. Maybe there was a lonely security guard watching on the surveillance monitors who shared this moment. And now we go for rides in the empty neighborhood streets and he says, "I like bike riding a lot. A lot more than I expected to." I am really pleased to have this new shared hobby.  

I take some civic pride and purposeful comfort in figuring out how to sew homemade face masks, which I've sent to family and friends literally coast-to-coast (with shipping funding generously by Jason's business.) I sanded and re-stained a door. I made two baby quilts. Maybe I'll get rid of all the relentless weeds in our garden... cursing whatever previous owner who thought wild strawberries were a good idea. All wandering leaves, including into the lawn, no berries. 

When will this be over? What it will be like when it is?