Month: April 2020

Chris and I have been talking lately about what the beginning of school might look like in late August. I am finding it increasingly difficult to envision a normal beginning of the year where we come together in person. If we have to start school online, how in the world are we going to get to know our students? How are they going to become comfortable with us and trust us? This may be one of the biggest obstacles we have yet to overcome. I vote for keeping our current students for another year. No? How about at least a semester?

During my office hours today, I had about six students join. After I clarified some of the instructions for this week and nudged a few of them to go back and check assignments where they needed to put in a little more effort, we casually chatted, as usual. One of them mentioned how nice it was that some elementary teachers were posting videos of themselves reading books aloud. I guess I didn’t get the hint fast enough because then she added, “You could do that. Why don’t you do that?” She is not one to beat around the bush.

“I guess I could do that. Would you all like that? Would you like me to read you another book?” It was unanimous (among my small group of six). So, the plan is for me to record myself reading a few chapters a day and post the videos online as I go. I do have some concerns, though: What about copyright law? Can I record my video, run it through Youtube to get the subtitles, and then convert it to an mp4 in order to upload it? How many more videos can our platform hold during this time of unprecedented uploading?

Whatever it takes. If the kids want me to read to them, I will read to them. I have no doubt it will lift my spirits, as well.

Chris cracked the kitten code after our weeks-long fruitless efforts to adopt two kittens. This morning, two 7-week-old Manx mixes popped up on a site. He immediately filled out an application, emailed and called. He got a quick response from the cat adoption team lead, and a few hours later, the friendly Belgian native was interviewing me on the phone. Since she was pleased with the interview, she went ahead and Facetimed me for the virtual home visit.

She wanted to make sure I was aware they had Manx in them, which turns many people off because they have either no tail or a bobbed tail (which is indeed the case with these two). This did seem a little weird to us at first, but when Chris asked Maxine what she thought about it, she exasperatedly replied, “Who cares if they don’t have a tail? Why would you care?” Well, okay then. We decided she was right and that we would love them sans tail.

We started reading more about Maxnes. It turns out they are also known for their affectionate, playful, and precocious nature and have been exhibited as show cats since the late 1800’s, and…get this…they originate from the Isle of Man. It must be a sign.

We are currently in the process of debating names. The front runners are currently Rick and Jessie. If all goes as planned, we will pick them up in Shirlington Saturday morning.

Our fire ring has arrived. We’ve had a few over the years. The first one usually sat ignored on a small stone patio, and it always felt kind of squished whenever we used it. Then we got a clay chimney that sat in the backyard. It had a hole in one side where the fire burned, which was very pretty, but unless you got the one seat in front of the hole, you were left out in the cold. Cracks started to form, and it eventually cleaved in two. Good riddance.

We finally ordered a new one last month, the same one our neighbors have, which we have admired when we’ve walked by on brisk evenings. This one is on wheels and has a steel cage so all can enjoy the warmth. Chris and Edwin went up to a neighbor’s house last week and collected a bunch of fallen oak that was up for grabs, and Chris split it all with his newly arrived axe. Tonight, we will give it a whirl. I wonder how long the kids will last before they want to retreat into the house…I foresee a little forced family fun time.

My book club met on Zoom earlier this evening, and we discussed the nonfiction book The Library Book by Susan Orlean. The main storyline is the investigation of the 1986 fire of LA Central Library, which burned for seven hours and destroyed 400,000 books. The event missed out on the press coverage it would normally have gotten because the nuclear meltdown at Chernobyl happened the same day.

I haven’t finished the book yet, but I’ve been enjoying learning about the history of the library. Orlean infuses her love of books into the stories she tells of the people and programs intertwined with the running of a library.

Here a few quotes that have stuck with me:

“The shipping department at Central moves 32,000 books – the equivalent of an entire branch library – around the city of Los Angeles five days a week. It is as if the city has a bloodstream flowing through it, oxygenated by books.”

“Books have souls…[it] feels like a thing alive in this moment, and also alive in a continuum, from the moment the thoughts about it first percolated in the writer’s mind to the moment it sprang off the printing press…” 

“In Senegal, the polite expression for saying someone died is to say his or her library has burned.”

We woke the kids at 7:45 this morning so we could go on a hike at Turkey Run, off the GW Parkway, before too many others had the same idea. They were definitely not nice about it, but once we got to the river and Sasha staring digging up sand and barking happily, they stopped giving us the stink eye. Maxine was so mad at being woken up early on a weekend that she had vowed to only talk to Edwin today, but she kept forgetting. She’s not very good at staying mad, unlike her brother…

It ended up being a four mile hike, partly up big boulders by waterfalls, so we had to lift and pass Sasha a few times. She kept veering off into pools of water, trying to avoid the inevitability of being hoisted up rock faces. So humiliating. When we got home, I had to bathe that stinky dog – another very unpleasant experience.

All in all, I think the good outweighed the bad this morning.

Over the years, I’ve changed out books on the kids’ shelves in order to make room for currently age-appropriate ones. Some go in boxes in the attic for when they’re grown up and possibly become parents, others go to Goodwill because we won’t really miss them, some go to younger cousins, but the ones that hold a very special place in our hearts remain on the shelves for easy access. These include my favorites from when I was a kid, which in turn became their favorites. I know I tipped the scales in favor of them because of the enthusiasm with which I would read them and the voices I have perfected over the years.

Last night, I went into Edwin’s room in search of a picture book that had come to mind, Mog the Forgetful Cat. He helped me search for it, declaring, “Oh, my god; I loved that book!” We found it, and he called out for Maxine to come in. “Max! It’s Mog! Remember?” They both insisted I read it to them. We always get such a kick out of Mog. Poor Mog is always feeling slighted for a number of reasons. “They never even fed me dinner” (yes, they did). “Why won’t they let me in; it’s raining out here?” (you have a cat door, silly). One night, when Mog is “stuck” outside, a burglar enters the home. Mog is face-to-face with him at the kitchen window and lets out a very loud howl. The family wakes up, the burglar is caught (and offered a cup of tea – it’s all very civilized), and Mog is transformed into a hero (he really was just begging to be let in).

Then they insisted I read the The Fourteen Bears, Summer and Winter, whose illustrations were etched in my mind when I was little. Just as I was getting up to go to bed, they pulled out a more recent favorite from when they were little, Brontorina, the story of a dinosaur who so desperately wants to become a ballerina. They love the voice I do for the elderly ballerina instructor, kind of a cross between Katherine Hepburn in her golden years and Queen Elizabeth II.

Who knew I’d be reading these to my teenage kids again? What an unexpected delight.

Mr. Puffy will smoke that for you.

I should explain…

A family moved into the neighborhood about six years ago and quickly wove themselves into the fabric of the village. The mom is delightful, and the dad is an extrovert – very eager to make friends. Whenever someone suggests an outing or get-together, he’s usually the first to respond with “IN!” It’s very endearing. One Christmas we were buying tickets to see Aimee Mann and Ted Leo at the Birchmere and sent out a text to see who wanted tickets. Guess who was “IN!”? The funny thing is that he’s more of a country music fan and had never heard of Aimee Mann, and certainly not Ted Leo. He just loves to be with his peeps.

Anyhoo, I digress…so this guy knew he had made it into the heart of the neighborhood when he discovered he had a nickname: Puffy. So, his last name is Combs, and of course, who’s famous for being a Combs? Sean Combs, aka Puffy. So, Mr. Combs became Puffy. The kids got so used to hearing all the adults refer to him as Puffy, that he became Mr. Puffy. You’d hear kids say, “Mr. Puffy, can Nico come out to play?” or “Mr. Puffy, my dad wants to know if he can borrow your lawn mower.”

Mr. Puffy has gotten himself a smoker, and he’ll smoke your meat for you every Thursday. Just bring your goods to his backyard Thursday afternoon and he’ll work his magic. He’s gotten really good at it. A couple weeks ago, a tiny bit hurt, he asked Chris why he never brings him anything to smoke. What gives? Chris replied that we don’t eat meat, but we’d love for him smoke some fish. It was on. Attention village: there will be fish smoking this Thursday! Another guy took orders for the District Wharf. By 5:00 this afternoon, about $300 worth of fish arrived in Puffy’s backyard. We had a lovely meal of smoked trout and salmon (and my very favorite, which I didn’t let anywhere near that smoker: raw oysters).

Thanks, Mr. Puffy!

When I was having my virtual office hour with students today – I never had more than four at a time – we talked first about assignments a couple of them still needed to turn in. The rest of the hour was taken up by causal chatting. Those of us with dogs introduced our furry friends to one another. One student and I pulled out our guitars, and we strummed a few chords. Eventually, the conversation led to, of course, the coronavirus. One student, who has been showing up to all our virtual conferences and hanging out the whole time (he’s pretty bored), asked what was the first thing we bought when we found out about the need to shelter in place. He said his dad bought a new TV. Nobody else could really remember, so I shared that I went to the grocery store. But what was the first thing you picked up, he wanted to know. I guess it was kale. Yup, it was definitely kale. Kale? They were not impressed, not one bit.

We talked about how long vaccinations take to develop and possible treatments for the virus, and then one student said he heard Idris Elba has it. I looked it up, and sure enough, he and his wife are recovering from it. They have started a $40 million fund to help people in poor, rural areas affected by COVID-19. Then, the same student who asked about the first thing we bought asked us what we would do with $40 million. I said I would pay off my house and car, make sure our extended families are taken care of, buy a beach house, donate to a number of worthy causes, and then invest the rest. Another student said he would buy tons of mansions and build a giant roller coaster to connect all his mansions and a special roller coaster for his dog. He would also build a time machine to go back and buy shares in Amazon before they went big. I think his first plan would exceed $40 million -not sure he’d have much left for Amazon stock.

A common theme during this time is the importance of nurturing the connections we have with others. When would I have ever taken an hour during the regular school year to just shoot the breeze with these kids? When would they have been inclined to do the same with me? Yes, some good is definitely mixed in with the scary and unknown these days.

Edwin showed me a story this morning of two people in scrubs, standing in front of traffic in Denver, who were counter-protesting “Operation Gridlock” a right-wing-led effort to end lockdown measures.

I hope the protestors were ashamed when they came face to face with the healthcare workers (their identities haven’t been confirmed, but even if they’re posing as nurses, the message still resonates). Many of them are woefully overworked right now and risk their lives every time they head back to work. I had recently read a story in The New Yorker about the hellish conditions two nurses faced during the night shift at a Detroit hospital, so I had an immediate, visceral reaction to these images.

To be fair, some of the people protesting the lockdown measures are terrified because they can’t work and earn a paycheck. They’ve blown through their savings and have to make choices between buying groceries and paying rent. However, they seem to be egregiously misinformed about the seriousness of the virus and the intentions behind the lockdown measures. Who could possibly be responsible for this dangerous dissemination of falsehoods?