Thunder is rumbling. Trees are budding out. Over the weekend we started to get our garden beds ready and talked about when and how we are going to plant. We added two grow bags instead of the three additional beds we had talked of adding. This summer is already shaping up to be busier. Violet is taking her first two high school classes, and Abram has some sport camps.

Abram has started soccer and track. I think you have to be a special kind of person to enjoy watching a track meet. Especially if your kid is one or two event kid. I love a track meet. My mom keeps telling me to take pictures but every time he comes around the track (he runs the mile mostly), I forget my phone/camera and can only cheer him on and marvel at how he just keeps his pace. I hope to remember before the end of the season.

This month, I did my first full grocery run (we’ve been using pick up or delivery with the occasional quick run in for a thing or two) in over a year. And my second. Ran into an acquaintance at Target. I’m out of small talk practice and it feels strange. I’m ready for hugs and long conversations over brunch, but not ready to give up the smaller circle and quiet. I doubt I’ll ever get back into the habit of wearing makeup or underwire bras again. Everything feels a little surreal. Talked with some friends and agreed that languishing is a good word. We’ve lived through that. Are still living through it. Rita talked about the all of it all much more eloquently so I’m going to point you in that direction and mostly just share my things.

Watching: I started watching The Handmaid’s Tale on Hulu. I read the book ages ago and knew it might not be the best choice for my mental health, but I wanted something dark and harsh. Lately, I find light hearted, cotton candy escapism grating. I don’t know how else to say it. I know I’ll crave it again (for example, I am beyond excited by the second season of Ted Lasso), but for now, I’m 100% invested in this horrible twisted show. Every episode has made me uncomfortable, a few have made me cry, and for all the terror and discomfort, the thread that makes it a dystopian fantasy is so thin. I can’t seem to turn away. (It makes me think about a conversation about the age appropriateness of The Hunger Games. One of my friends said that what made many adults feel like the appropriate age limit was higher was us thinking “This could actually happen” where as younger kids read it as complete fiction.). On the positive side, I can only grab episodes occasionally as my kids’ bedtimes move later and mine move earlier and it is very much a mature audience show. In family television viewing, Violet and I have been watching episodes of the most recent America’s Next Top Model will hopefully watch the last episode yet this week. Abram and Violet have also introduced me to Gravity Falls which, in my opinion, is golden.

Reading: I finished Boys and Sex by Peggy Orenstein (hard but important), The Gambler (the third in the Wedding Pact series I’ve mentioned). A Woman is No Man by Etaf Rum (so good that I cried in multiple places and wish I had a book club to discuss it), The Wife Upstairs by Rachel Hawkins (unserious good). I’m currently reading The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow and am still listening to The Promised Land by Obama. (It was definitely a bang for your buck buy at almost 30 hours). Creating the family reading time has been so good for me getting back into the reading swing of things. (Though since track and soccer have started it’s not every night as much as it used to be!)

Knitting: I finished a pair of socks for Abram. And died a little inside when I realized I was using the same sock blockers for his as I do for mine. Now I’m knitting on a pair for me (the yarn is Safety Dance from one of my favorite dyers) and then I promised a friend of Jesse’s a pair. I keep telling myself I’m going to do some knitting that isn’t socks this year but I haven’t exactly figured out when as soon I’ll be heading into Christmas sock time.

Making: I’ve finally started Chicago. It about a year each to finish NYC and Washington D.C. Maybe I can speed that up a little bit this time around. (I keep thinking of Marian saying “A thread a night” and I’m trying to do at least a thread every couple.) Our new favorite dinner. I also tried adding chicken feet to my usual chicken stock routine and you guys, I hate that’s it’s true, but it’s absolutely true. If you make homemade stock, you need to find a place where you can get them. (I get mine from a local farmer pre-peeled because I don’t want to deal with dirty chicken feet. I have a line.)

So that’s me as we head into May. (Kinda hard to believe that April is over this week!) What’s new with you? What are your -ings?

February has been a month of growth. This is what I say when I don’t want to talk about how astronomically difficult this month has been personally – when I decide that Texas and coronavirus and crazy people (even if you just pick one of those) is enough. To my therapist, who I see through a screen, I say “can I just sit here and cry for awhile? It’s all just too much.” To myself I say, “I can’t get through this. I can’t. And yet, there is nothing left but to do it.” I’ve gone so far as to write “nothing left but to do it” on my mirror. The list of what sits atop (and is buckling) my plate isn’t necessary. We all have our plates. I will get through until eventually (hopefully when I’m a spry 93) I don’t.

Lest you think it’s all doom and gloom over here, it isn’t. We have reading snuggle piles (though they’re cozier with full sized and almost full sized human children) and laughs. We play games like Proof where I am trounced and Boggle where I trounce (though Abram is starting to give me a run for my money) and Connect Four which can be anybody’s game. I am exhausted and broken and comfortable and content. It’s the way of things. Speaking of things, here are mine:

Reading: I have READ the last few weeks. I’m not saying what I’ve read is award winning or brain turning. I finished All American Boys. This Close to Okay (BOTM pick – kinda had a squeamy that’s not quite right feel to me). Oona Out of Order (Rita, I think I heard about this from you?) which I thought it was a cute read. One to Watch, which I very much loved. The Substitute (part of a .99 pack on Amazon for people like me who don’t have kindle unlimited) was the best davenport read I’ve read in years. (Davenport reads are the not-too-racy-but definitely-romance type reads I would read on my grandma’s “davenport” while eating ice cream sandwiches when I was young. As a response to all of this 2020-2021 crap bag, I’ve been craving those books and that time.) Before We Were Yours (good, sad, sadder knowing it’s based in actual history) and The Queen’s Gambit by Walter Tevis. Now I’m reading The Player which is the second book in the .99 pack.

Watching: Old movies like Big and The Sister Act with the family on Friday nights. Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Violet. Star Trek – TNG with Abram. One night when everyone went to bed early, I watched I Care A Lot. on Netflix which was dark, funny, twisted, suspenseful. Everyone was horrid and yet I found myself rooting for all of them. I need some recommendations.

Knitting: Working on a pair of socks for Abram. Sent out some hearts for Valentine’s Day. Reading limits the amount of time I have to be knitting.

So that’s me. What you -ing? Hope this finds you all safe and healthy.

In 9th grade, I beat Mike Lankfer to win the gym class ping pong championship. I’m still proud because that guy was a JERK. Abram is not a jerk, but I still love beating him. He beats me every time we play Monopoly so it’s only fair. (He doesn’t agree.)

I know I usually fill these Tuesday Things with whatever it is I’m reading, watching, knitting, etc. but there just isn’t much in the way of -ing the last week so I’m just going to ramble.

I’m homesick for Michigan. We cancelled both our summer and fall trips but scheduled four days in May with a wish, a hope, and a prayer. It’s a tiny little cabin on the Pere Marquette river that reminds me of my great-grandpa’s place. It has a decent cancellation policy, but I want to fish for trout and read books and see my dad and grandma. I miss the big lake and the dunes and the sand and the woods and home. I never realized how much my heart is buoyed by my trips home.

I sorted/purged/cleaned/organized my office and labeled everything in the hopes that when people go looking for something they can 1) easily find it and 2) easily return it. I ordered myself a 2021 notebook, started a food journal (and start a Whole 30 on January 2), and ordered seeds for the garden. I’m finalizing a list of knitting projects based off the things I have stashed.

The kids and I were watching videos from back in March when school was cancelled and I was making pancakes and we were putting together puzzles and everything pandemic felt a little bit like an adventure. I bemusedly watch the videos of that naive woman as she walks through the house and smiles in the mirror like a rebel in her pajamas at 10AM. December me picked Abram up from school in a flannel nightgown and can’t remember the last time I’ve worn “real” clothes. The pandemic doesn’t feel like an adventure anymore. It feels like a group project where I’m being graded on not just the finished product, but everyone’s effort while being assigned slacker partners and much, much higher stakes and then…a little bit of hope. (Yay, vaccine!!!)

I deleted my FB account (again) and deleted the IG app on my phone. I know a lot of people were deleting and talking about privacy issues with the most recent update but my reasoning has much more to do with the fact that I am a horrible consumer of social media. I compulsively use it and I feel bad about myself for 1) compulsively using it and 2) not living a life as IG worthy as some and 3) feeling the kind of crap that I did in middle school because of behavior that’s middle school.

I really, really appreciate you listening to me ramble. Sending hugs and warm wishes.

P.S. I need to take down our tree – you can’t even walk by it without needles falling – but I don’t want to give up pretty lights. Do you think putting twinkle lights in my pothos is overkill?