Here we go. This horrible year, 2020, I am thankful for…
…being able to feel thankful. (Will that become the new meaning of “2020 hindsight”?)
…a friend who sent me the link to the podcast, “A Way With Words,” where I learned, just in time, of the word “respair,” which means to have hope again. Seriously!!!! Yes.
…flowers.
…mushrooms taking the place of flowers when flowers are not available. (Could there be a lesson here?)
Beautiful local veggies also filling that flower-role, and way tastier.
…Zoom (can I get an Amen?).
Say “Happy Birthday, Dad!”
Beauty close to home.
Thanksgiving dinner made of leftovers, and no pie, because–the Mate’s birthday cake is the queen of all!
Happy Birthday, babe.
Togetherness in any form, even masked. Health. Democracy. Music. Things I will never, ever, ever take for granted again.
As always, I would love to hear some of the things floating to the top of your list!Still standing? Let’s give thanks.
Note: this post is NOT intended to elicit sympathy toward the author. If you notice any indications to the contrary, please feel free to slap her, remotely (there must be an emoji for that)–or just close the page.
These past couple of weeks I’ve been forced to think quite a bit about positions. Not political ones; I mean physical: lying down, sitting, and standing. Injuries acquired in the service of democracy* have me no longer taking these simple options for granted.
*turns out when you spend hours and hours and hours writing letters and making phone calls to voters, sitting at a table which is just SLIGHTLY the wrong height, your back takes its revenge.
Still worth it. I think.
Before my back started hurting, I was all about sitting. Like many jobs, working as a baker is about 98% bipedal, but I took every 2% chance I got to set my butt down, between rounds of butterhorns. (That doesn’t sound quite right, but you know what I mean.)
OK, these are not actually butterhorns…but gooey enough to be close. (photo courtesy Holly B’s Bakery)
Now? Sitting is the enemy. Even perching makes me pay a price. So what the heck. Let’s celebrate some of the gifts of the other positions, shall we?
LYING DOWN. Good for:
Sleeping–duh. And sex. And reading–like my latest recommendation,Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer. If you’re looking for short, lyrical pieces that fill you with the desire to go sit (or lie) in your favorite woods, and bring those woods to you if you’re stuck somewhere un-woodsy–this is your book. Get two copies, one for yourself and one for someone you care about.
Bad for:
Zoom. I really, really dislike seeing my future, double-chinned self staring back at me when I Zoom horizontally.
Not my favorite look.
STANDING. Good for:
When someone hands you a puppy.
Though in fairness, I would also have accepted this gift sitting down.
Appreciating sunsets.
Ditto.
Locomoting–which brings you to places where people might hand you a puppy, or to places of extra beauty. (It’s not impossible to locomote from a horizontal or sitting position–just harder.)
Pictured: place of extra beauty.
Bad for:
Knees. Also dizziness induced by drugs taken for back pain.
Which brings us back to…
SITTING. Good for:
Knees. (At least mine.)
All social situations where lying down isn’t quite appropriate (even if you wish it were).
Just sayin’–burgers while reclining could end…badly.
Bad for:
Me, right now. Which is why I’ve written this all on my back (not literally; now THAT would take some dexterity).
But–that fact, above? It’s actually a “good for,” because…well, look. What better time than a global pandemic to start appreciating things as basic as Sitting, Standing, and Lying Down?
The day after Joe Biden and Kamala Harris were declared President- and Vice President-elect, I sat down to express my thoughts in this blog…and quickly realized someone had already expressed them for me. “Raven and Chickadee” is the blog of my friends Laurel and Eric, who left their home in Ashland, OR several years ago for a life on the road as full-time RV-ers. Until COVID, which…well, I’ll let Chickadee (Laurel) tell it. The photos are by Raven (Eric).
Bridging The Divide
Wow. Is it really over? I hope so. I am deeply relieved to step off of this insane election roller coaster.
It probably comes as no surprise to anyone who knows us that we did not vote for the incumbent. But this election has made me think long and hard about the state of our country.
Strangers In A Strange Land
Our hometown—Ashland, Oregon—is about as liberal a town as you’ll find anywhere. That’s one of the things that drew both Eric and me to live there many years ago. For decades, we lived in a town of like-minded folks, where the biggest controversy was how to humanely manage the deer mowing down people’s gardens.
We now find ourselves in Eastpoint, Florida—a stronghold of conservatives, where we are liberal outliers in a community rife with Trump flags and signs.
When we took to the road for our fulltime travels seven-and-a-half years ago, one of my fears was that we wouldn’t find people with whom we had anything in common. That has not turned out to be true. Our network of friends has expanded to a rich and satisfying tribe that extends from coast to coast.
In our travels, we’ve also discovered that people, by a vast majority, are decent. Even if we aren’t destined to become close friends, we’ve been touched time and again by the kindness of strangers, no matter what their political or religious beliefs. That includes our neighbors here in Eastpoint, who have been unfailingly kind and generous as we’ve navigated these difficult months of dealing with my parents’ home, my father’s death, and the pandemic.
The piney woods in North Florida
The Long Road Ahead
This election was certainly not the Blue Wave that we anticipated. While we are thrilled to have Joe Biden and Kamala Harris as our new president and vice-president, it is painfully clear that we have a long road of healing ahead. And it’s up to us, the people, to heal our nation.
I hope we will be kind to one another, that we will approach each other in a spirit of generosity, that we will listen to each other’s concerns, that we will try to understand, and that we won’t fall into the seductive trap of labeling and dismissing anyone who votes or thinks differently. (I am excluding anyone who voted for Trump for racist reasons. That includes anyone flying a Confederate flag or wearing a MAGA hat. The time of white supremacy is long over, so get over it. )
We do not have an easy task ahead. Personally, I’ve had a field day with the absurdities of Trump over the past four years (along with feeling terrified and outraged). But along with the vast majority of our neighbors here in Eastpoint who voted for Trump, Eric and I both have family members and friends who voted for him. These are not racist, unkind, ungenerous people. They had their reasons for voting for Trump, just as we had our reasons for voting for Biden. Somehow, we need to find compromises.
The chasm is wide. But we have to bridge it, for the sake of one another, our country, and our world.
Wing's World 