MV or Bust

In February my sister said our family is planning a trip to Martha’s Vineyard this summer. This is our family vacation spot, having spent countless summers at various rental homes over the course of my 58 years here on earth. We are not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, but back then, the Vineyard wasn’t the posh (and expensive) vacation destination it is now. A friend of my father’s had invited him up there when he was in his 20s and he fell in love with the place. Thus, our family vacation spot was chosen.

These days we stay with our cousins who own a house up there. However, we learned that their daughter, also our cousin, was dying of cancer, and as a family we felt that bombarding her house probably wasn’t a good idea this year. This left us looking for a rental, which makes going to the Vineyard a more expensive vacation than I am accustomed to. Add to this that I just had some very expensive dental surgery done (which I have to pay off). So, I made the decision not to go.

This began to torture me. The thought of my sisters and nieces (not to mention by brand new great niece) soaking in that glorious Vineyard atmosphere, while I’m stuck in Palmyra, Virginia was eating me alive. How in the world was I going to survive the week they would be up there, with Facebook and Instagram posts mocking me every day.

Then I got the news that my cousin with cancer had passed away. My father had introduced the Vineyard to these cousins who embraced it just like our family had. My cousin had spent summers living and working on the island, and now she was gone. I’m no spring chicken, and after talking it over with my husband, we decided I should go with my family, regardless of the cost. Who knows how many chances I’ll have to relax on Martha’s Vineyard with my family in the future?

I called my sister to see if there was still room in the house they rented, and as luck would have it, there is one bed left. Also, it turns out they rented a house right in the heart of Edgartown, which for me was a game-changer. The other house we used to stay at was about a 20 minute walk to town. This house? I’m lucky if it’s 5. It will be so easy to just leave the house and wander into town if you’re bored, or want some sun, or forgot to pick something up.

If you read my last post, you’ll know that I’ll have to work while I’m up there, but in all honesty, who cares. I can bang out a bunch of ads each morning, check for corrections in the afternoon, and bask in the sun the rest of the time. I’m just not going to worry about it. I want to enjoy my family, while we are still all around to enjoy each other.

I Bag to Differ

Just recently I started using reusable shopping bags when I go grocery shopping, mainly because my local community started charging for disposable plastic bags. I usually kept bags in my car, but they were in my trunk, and who remembers to look there before heading in to the store? So, I started keeping them piled in my front seat so I can quickly grab them as I head out of my car.

Let me tell you, now that I’ve switched, I’ll never go back! For me it’s not so much an environmental thing…that’s just an added bonus. It’s just that you can fit so much MORE in the reusable bags! My usual grocery haul would yeild 7 or 8 of those flimsy throw away bags. But with the reusable ones? I’m lucky if I use two…three at the most. Yes, the bags are slightly heavier, but I’d much rather lug two semi-heavy bags in the house that 5 lighter ones. AND it’s better for the environment!

My new goal is to find fun reusable bags!

Baby, You Can Drive My Car

I finally have my car back. My car has been a loaner for quite some time now.

First, a few years ago, I had to carpool with my oldest daughter who didn’t have a car, but still needed to get to and from work. While my job would end at 4:30, hers didn’t end until 6 pm, so I’d have to wait around in town, shopping or just sitting and reading, until she was off.

Then she bought a car, and my car was my own again.

When my youngest daughter got her license I was once again sharing my car. It wasn’t too bad at first…I’d let her take the car to school on Wednesdays, when I worked from home, and she’d use it if she wanted to go somewhere with friends.

But after she graduated and began working, it got a lot tougher. She’d take my car if she was working a late shift, so I didn’t have to go out at all hours to pick her up. She was looking to buy her own car, but she’s very picky, and every car she loved, Dad and I had issues with.

Then Covid hit, and car shopping was put on hold for a good, long time. I promised her that she could consider my car hers, at her disposal for work and friends as long as it didn’t conflict with my schedule.

It was a long year…

Finally, this past spring, she found her perfect car at a price she could afford, and I had my car back.

A month ago a co-worker of my husbands hit his car, nearly tearing the bumper off, and screwing up the alignment. We didn’t want to bother with a rental, because we live in a gated community, and hubby would have to use the main gate in a rental, which is really out of the way. We figured, it’ll only be a week to get the car fixed…he can just use mine. I work from home, so no big deal, right?

Well it took more like 3 weeks to get the car fixed, which sucked. When hubby was working vs. when I needed to go to the store, or take photos for work was a constant time juggle for car usage. Once he was off to work I was literally stuck at the house.

Earlier this week his car was ready, and I have my car back. Finally. I can go where I want to when I want to, and it’s a really nice feeling. Now if only we could come up with a viable system for 4 cars in our driveway.

Dodged a Bullet

This past week Virginia was in the bulls-eye of what was to be a major ice storm. I can tell you I don’t mind snow, but ice? That means one thing. Power loss.

I don’t like losing power. It’s not just because the lights are off, and I can’t use my stove. It’s because my home is heated by electricity, and we have no fireplace or wood stove (much to my chagrin), so when we lose power, it gets freakin’ cold in my house.

About 10 years back, we had a major snowstorm…I’m talking a foot or more of snow…and for my region of VA, it made life come to a complete standstill. And, we lost power. FOR 3 DAYS. I learned how to boil water for tea on my grill, I cooked soup on my grill. We ate a lot of ham sandwiches. And it dropped to 45° INSIDE my house. The entire family slept together on our pull-out sofa to keep warm, and on Super Bowl Sunday, at halftime, our power came back on.

The next spring we purchased a grill with a side burner. Just in case.

So, when the Weather Channel was calling for an inch or more of ice, I began to dread being stuck in my icebox of a house. As the storm hit, and freezing rain continued to fall, I kept my fingers crossed. Noon had come and gone, and we still had power. I made some soup for lunch. Then dinner came and we still had power, and I turned to my husband and said, “I think we dodged a bullet.”

He agreed. The storm was way less impactful than predicted, and I was one warm, happy clam about it. I’m glad it’s almost March.

A Walk For My Brother

For the last few days, I’ve been dealing with a whole lot of stuff. For the past few weeks to be exact, but the last couple of days have been a fucking doozy.

My family has been dealing with a bout of Covid. First my oldest daughter got it, and despite isolating herself in her room, my husband wound up catching it. Now my youngest daughter just tested positive. So far, mommy dearest is the only one to have not contracted it.

Yet.

But the worst news is of my older (and only) brother. He had texted us that he and his wife had Covid a few days before Christmas. This past Sunday, we got the news that he was in the hospital with trouble breathing. Things looked better the next day, which I was glad for, but yesterday we were told his condition had deteriorated, and that things were looking very bleak.

I’m upset. My brother has so much to live for; a soul-mate for a wife, two beautiful children and 4 amazing grandchildren, who are far, far too young to have their pop-pop taken away from them. It all seems so unfair and helpless.

I woke up this morning and thought, what can I do? So, I got dressed, laced up my sneakers and did something I haven’t done in far too long….I took a walk. I’ve always got some lame excuse for not walking. My back hurts, it’s too cold, I’m too tired (aka too lazy). But my brother, who is literally fighting for his life, can’t do something as simple as leave the house and take a walk. So I took one for him.

I tried to listen to an audio book, but found I couldn’t concentrate. So I switched to music. The very first song that came on was “Hang On” by the Little River Band. And these lyrics struck me:

Hang on, help is on its way
I’ll be there as fast as I can
“Hang on”, a tiny voice did say
From somewhere deep inside the inner man

It made me believe that God is there for him, telling him to hang on, help is coming. My brother can hear that tiny voice from deep inside the inner man, and I’m praying that this was a sign to me that maybe, just maybe, my brother is going to be okay.

The walk felt good. It was cold. Freezing cold, but I didn’t care. I think I’ll take another walk for my brother tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. No more lazy excuses. My poor dear brother has no choice, but I do. And I’m going to get out in honor of him.

The Emerging Cook in Me

This Thanksgiving I did all the cooking, which is no big deal. Now that my family has moved out of state, I always do the cooking. But you know what??? Everything was really, really good. And I didn’t really follow a single recipe.

Sure, I looked up how to dry brine the turkey, and looked up how long to cook it, but other than that, my stuffing, creamed spinach, gravy, green beans and potatoes were all made sans recipe books, and it was all killer.

My mom was an awesome cook. She had trouble with chicken, though…it was usually very dry. But her meatloaf, pot roast, soups and spaghetti sauce were all top notch. Following suit, both of my sisters are really good cooks. Me? It took me quite a while, but I think I’m finally there.

I remember a million years ago, when I was living in Blythesville, Arkansas – the girlfriend of a dude in the Air Force. He had invited a co-worker and his wife over for dinner, and I had no idea of how to make gravy. I was absolutely clueless having no cookbooks and the fact that the internet was years into the future. Luckily the wife knew how to do it. Her gravy was way too thick…more like a custard than a gravy, but it tasted great. That was one of my first lessons that I tucked into the old memory rolodex.

As years went by, I’d practice by making the same dishes over and over again. I tried for years to find a good mac & cheese recipe. I never did. I just learned through countless episodes of Top Chef, The Barefoot Contessa, Secrets of a Restaurant Chef, and Chopped how to make a roux, and a bechamel, and after that, I just made up my own recipe. It’s really, really good. I don’t measure, I just taste, and know the right consistency after years of trial and error.

Same thing with chicken soup. I don’t follow a recipe anymore, and I make killer soup. I actually make a variety of good soups. Ditto for creamed spinach, chili, and meatballs. The next thing I want to master is marinara sauce – but hell, the jarred stuff is so much easier.

All I can say is, after 56 years on this planet, I have a decent repertoire of decent dishes. And it’s about time!

I think I’ll give my cookbook collection to my oldest daughter. I don’t use them at all anymore, and boy, is she going to need them.

Mom: My Resistance Partner For The Last 4 Years

When trump won the 2016 election, I was devastated. After Charlottesville in 2017, I was pissed. I knew that I’d be fighting against this racist asshole for the next 4 years.

What’s a girl to do? Go on Twitter, join up with a bunch of other folks who knew trump was bad for America, and begin resisting. While Twitter was my “no holes barred” resistance location, I made my Facebook page a platform for voicing my displeasure at our POS POTUS as well….just a little more diplomatically.

That’s where mom stepped in. Each Mother’s Day, I’d change my profile picture to one of my mom, and in 2017 I photoshopped her plain white T-shirt into one with a “Resist” logo on it. I figured, let me celebrate my mother, and get a dig in at the same time. Genius, right? But I didn’t take it down after Mother’s Day.

For the next 4 years my profile pic was nothing but my mom proudly displaying a variety of fuck trump T-shirts, all of which are shown above. If I saw an interesting anti-trump shirt cross my Facebook feed, I’d open up Photoshop and viola! New profile pic for me!

Sometimes being a graphic artist has it’s advantages.

My mom has been gone since 1994. While she wasn’t overly political (that was my dad’s gig) I know she would’ve despised what trump and the GOP have been doing over the past 4 years. My mom was more like Joe Biden, loving, supportive, caring, giving.

I’m proud to know that whatever the outcome of the 2020 election is, that I stand on the right side of history, just like I did in 2016. Years and years from now, when these 4 years of the trump administration are a laughing stock, and looked at as a dark, dark period in American history, there are those who will deny ever having voted for him. They will be embarrassed.

Not me. I know I stood on the side of truth, science, and decency. In closing, Fuck Donald Trump forever.

A Covid Close Call

About two weeks ago we had a co-worker who woke up sick. If we had been working remotely I wouldn’t have been concerned, but 2 days earlier we had all been in the office for a meeting. I was sitting right next to this coworker.

We waited none to patiently for the test results to come back, weighing as a family what we needed to do if he tested positive, with mommy dearest being a potential carrier of the covid.

Thankfully, the test came back negative. But that wasn’t my covid close call.

Sunday morning I woke up feeling not quite right. Could it have been the vodka I drank the night before? Nah…this didn’t feel like that. I had chills and little appetite. I dug out my trusty thermometer from the medicine cabinet, and sure enough. I had a 99.8 fever.

As the morning wore on, I took my temperature 73 more times, and my fever ranged from 99.0 – 101.0. Usually what one would do is down a couple of Tylenol and spend the day in bed. But not with covid raging.

We had a walk in clinic who told me to come in, yes on a Sunday. They assessed me, and gave me the dreaded nasal swab, which while not horrific, was no walk in the park either. At least it was over quickly. They would have the test results by the next day, which was a relief.

All day Sunday the family discussed what to do. Should I tell my work? Should my daughter inform her employers? How would I quarantine and still work from home?

I woke up Monday with no chills and still a low fever. We waited all day, and finally got the good news just before 7:00 pm…Negative.

I’m now an official Virginia statistic. I have been tested. I’m glad I was able to get one. I’m glad I have insurance. I’m glad I have a job.

And I’m really glad I didn’t have Covid.

The Slovie Corona Chronicles, Chapter 4

I’ve never been so glad to live in the sticks. Above is an actual view of the area where I live. My daughter’s high school is right next door to this field. It’s pretty wide open.

So far, there are only 16 cases of Covid-19 in my entire county, and in Albemarle County, which includes Charlottesville, there are only 43. Now, the news is saying that our area will get hit hardest in the next week or so, but I’m pretty confident that our family might come out of this nightmare unscathed.

We don’t really leave the house other than to go to the store, and then I’m in a mask and using antibacterial gel every few minutes. Our biggest risk is our oldest daughter, whose work at a local radio station is considered essential. She goes out into the world every day and comes back with the chance of carrying the virus with her.

Other than that, our risk is minimal. I think of when we lived in Northern New Jersey, right over the bridge from NYC – talk about being in the thick of it. I’d really be afraid to go out if I still lived up there.

The community I live in now is fairly populated, but nothing like the town I grew up in. There have been times that living here, with absolutely nothing within walking distance, has been a bummer.

Now? It’s a damn blessing.

Stay Safe.

The Slovie Corona Chronicles

CHAPTER 2

Today my boss sent me a disturbing email.

One of the perks of my job is my parking pass. I work in the City of Charlottesville, in the busy and popular downtown area. Our office has no parking lot. Street parking anywhere within a mile of my office is 2 hour only. On a normal working day there are hundreds of workers vying for very few free, all day spots.

Guess what my email was? That they are rescinding our parking passes. Not until this virus and social distancing is over, but for THE WHOLE REST OF THE YEAR.

You know what that means? It means that if we go back to the office in say, July, I have to leave my house at 7 am in order to find parking just to be at my job at 9. I know because I’ve done it before. Years back when I worked for this same company, I wasn’t deemed essential enough to be granted a parking pass, and I had to be in town no later than 7:30 if I had any hopes of finding a spot within a half mile of my office.

Yeah, I’m complaining, but at least I still have a job…so far. So, if I have to leave early and walk, so be it. The exercise will do me good.