Category Archives: Community

American Politics, Community, Humor, Intentionality, Lifestyle, Moods, Protests, Rage, Reading, Self-Reflection

Reading and Misreading

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Let me just say my love of shopping at thrift stores will never wane.

This picture is of the books I picked up on my latest trip to our local Goodwill.

I just finished the one at the top of the pile, “The Bookshop on the Corner”. It was an enjoyable read; a sweet yet meandering story of romance and friendship, riddled with phrasings I was unfamiliar with but nonetheless got the gist of. More than anything, though, it made me want to visit Scotland.

Now the question is, which book shall I tear into next? I’m partial to “Soul Pancake”, written by Rainn Wilson (Dwight Schrute from “The Office”).

If these were your books, which one would you read next?

In other news, I have a short story about one of the other things I picked up at Goodwill that day.

Even if I’m on a mission to find used books or home decor when I walk into a thrift store, I will always end up perusing the racks of clothes when I’m there. I just can’t help myself.

So, after finding the books I’m reading next and a few other random items, I mosey on over to those racks. Knowing that soon I’ll be participating in another anti-tRump administration rally/protest, I’m thrilled to see the *perfect* t-shirt for this (and future such) events.

Dear friends: the t-shirt was light blue and my size. Emblazoned with stars, it read “In My Enraged Era”. As a fan of Taylor Swift (who feels a bit too old to refer to themselves as a “Swiftie”, especially given the fact that I can’t tell you which of her albums resonates with me the most), who is, indeed, quite enraged about the state of America under tRump 2.0, it felt like serendipity.

So, Mr. NOA and I attended the rally/protest that Saturday. I, proudly wearing my cool new t-shirt and holding up the sign I made earlier that morning, was feeling pretty sassy. Having just gotten my hair chopped off and highlighted earlier in the week also boosted my sense of righteous indignation.

It was all (in my head) “I’m enraged and I’m not going to take it anymore” vibes that day.

If you look closely at the t-shirt, you’ll know where the rest of this story is going.

Later that evening, just as I was about to get ready for bed, I happened to glance down at my cool new t-shirt.

Ope! I read the shirt wrong!!!

It actually says “In my engaged era”

In hindsight, I realize this likely was a t-shirt made to be purchased by a newly engaged-to-be-married person to wear to their engagement party.

The irony is that I opened my big mouth on this blog back in January and claimed this was my year of “intentionality”. Yet, being intentional is akin to being “engaged”, right?

And I am engaged: in day-to-day life, engaged with blogging, engaged in my workplace, engaged in the relationships I share with the people I love, engaged with my creative spirit, and engaged in good trouble as an American voter. And I endeavor to maintain this engagement.

So, that’s the story of how I went from enraged to engaged.

Or maybe it’s a story of how we all see what we want to see sometimes and not what is actually there.

Or maybe it’s a lesson for me to continue to engage with my enragement as our administration continues their reckless and evil doings to the people of this country I love.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I’m sharing a Taylor Swift song that best captures the feeling of enragement for me.

Community, democracy, Grandparenting, Lifestyle, Optimism, Protests

Flags, Rubik’s Cubes, and Resistance

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A few weeks ago, my 11 year-old grandson and I went to our local Dollar General store. As he’s wont to do, he dashed around the store looking for treasures for me to buy for him.

One such treasure was a Rubik’s cube. I pointed out that he already had one, and he informed me that it was misplaced. So, I told him to put it in my cart.

Soon after, the kid was searching for images of flags around the world and happily maneuvering the cube to re-create the images of flags.

“Look Grandma-it’s Belize!”

“Look Grandma-it’s Italy!”

“Look Grandma-it’s Turkey!”

I love his creative, curious spirit.

My Dad, Babe, served in the Korean War. From him, I learned to always respect the flag. He took pride in displaying the American flag in front of our house. He kept it in pristine condition (like he did with virtually every single thing).

Mr. NOA and I were recently on our way in our trusty Tacoma to a medical appointment (no worries, all is well) about 45 minutes away. A house on a corner featured a tRump flag. Two, actually. I instinctively shook my head in frustration upon seeing this particular flag in someone’s yard. Then my eye caught another (tRump) flag on the other side of the yard. Only this one was horribly tattered. It had sun damage and almost appeared to have been the victim of a toddler with a pair of scissors.

Upon pointing it out to Mr. NOA (unfortunately I wasn’t swift enough to capture the image of this forlorn flag), he said “it’s tattered, just like our country is now”. True that, as they say.

I remember a phrase Kamala Harris said often during her ill-fated presidential campaign: it’s a crying shame. She said it about many different things, but often it was about the economic struggles faced by low to mid-income hard-working American families. That really resonated with me, because I felt she was speaking from her heart. She knew that if there was to be a second tRump administration, things would certainly get worse for Americans.

Indeed, things have gotten much, much worse here in the good old U.S.A. On so many levels.

The overwhelm I feel about it all threatens to render me helpless. I think acknowledging that is helpful. As is giving myself permission to retreat from it all from time to time, in an effort to retain my sanity.

Not completely retreat, mind you. I care too much about the future of this country and my fellow citizens for that.

I’ve been doing itty bitty things here and there to stay engaged in the resistance to this evil regime. Like sending postcards to the White House, expressing my disgust of this administration’s willfull resistance to the rule of law. I’ve made calls and sent emails to my state senators, urging them to do the right thing and oppose this administration. Mr. NOA and I attended a rally last weekend in a nearby town, holding signs we made for the occasion. It lifted my spirits to be amongst the 25 or so other folks expressing collective outrage at what is happening to our country.

We plan on attending the next rally, scheduled for the first Saturday in May. My hope is that even more people will join us; perhaps some of the folks driving past us during the first rally who enthusiastically honked their horns and gave us “thumbs ups”.

It seems to me that if every one of us who is against what is happening to democracy in America right now does what they can, what they feel able to do with whatever time/energy/skills they possess, we have a chance at getting this ship turned around and on a better path for us all.

I’ve been on a classic rock and protest song kick lately, so I’ll leave you with this gem.

Climate Change, Community, Compassion, Memories, Travel

I’m So Sorry, California

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We paused the news coverage of the horrific urban wildfires in California the other night while I got our supper started. Mr. NOA asked Google to stream songs from Laurel Canyon on our little nest, which sits on our kitchen countertop. It was our little ode to California.

We talked about how much we enjoyed a documentary from a few years back about the beginnings of the Laurel Canyon music scene (Echo in the Canyon). It featured clips from and stories about the Eagles, Tom Petty, Linda Ronstadt, Jackson Browne, and more. We also talked about how much we enjoyed a vacation there, during which we were treated to an impromptu concert at an open-air shopping mall in Long Beach. The band was called “Steely Jam”. They of course were a band who did covers of Steely Dan songs.

I remember vacations I took with my parents in the 1980’s to California. My brother lived there with his then-wife and three kids. We loved being there: the palm trees, the ocean, the general atmosphere of laid back-ness. It was so much different than life in northern Minnesota. My parents and I were first introduced to Taco Bell during one of our visits there. We had Taco John’s at home, but Taco Bell, we determined, was superior.

My hope is that Mr. NOA and I will be able to visit this state together again, visiting San Francisco and Napa Valley in particular.

My heart goes out to this beautiful state and its people. What a nightmare they are living. I’ve seen some folks online making snarky comments about celebrities that have lost their homes, saying things along the lines of “too bad, so sad, they can just go stay in one of their other mansions”. It may in some cases be true that a celebrity can stay in another one of their homes in another state or country, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a big honking deal for them to have lost a home they created cherished memories in. And I believe that the majority of those folks who have lost their homes and all their worldly possessions in these wildfires are not wealthy celebrities. They are likely just like the rest of us Americans, working hard to maintain a secure and happy life for themselves and their families.

For now, all I can offer is my thoughts and prayers for the multitudes of people this has affected in California, along with the brave firefighters working tirelessly to extinguish the flames. I intend to pay close attention to California as time goes on to determine how I can be of help, financially or otherwise, to the people in this beautiful state as they navigate through this mess.

Community, Dogs, Humor, Lifestyle, Neighbors

A Radar Adventure Story

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Our beloved 5-year-old dog, Radar, is so happy with his life here in Minnesconsin. Living here, he gets to run and play outside, sometimes without a leash. He gets to monitor all the little critters, the ones with wings and the ones with bushy tails, from our sun porch each day (aka Radar’s room).

Last week, Hubs was out of town for work. Radar and I were here, left to our own devices.

On Tuesday, as I’m sitting at the dining room table poking around WordPress, I got a call from our neighbor across the road, Mike. He said “Hey Rhonda, it looks like your pontoon is floating in the bay. If you need any help with it, I’m here, just let me know”.

Yikes! I thought. How could that have happened? Hubs tied it up very securely to our dock after our last boat ride. The next thought I had was “Where are the boat keys?”. I called Hubs, who, thankfully, answered right away. He tells me (of course) he’s got the boat key, but there’s a spare in the “cubby” under the steering wheel. Inside of the boat.

Really? How was I supposed to get into our boat, if it’s floating in the bay?

So, Radar and I headed to the dock to check things out. Mike was already there, on the other side of our little bay. I couldn’t make out everything he said, because of the distance between us, but I was grateful he was there nonetheless.

Thank goodness that it was not our pontoon boat out there, floating in the bay. It was our next door neighbor’s. I texted him, knowing he’d be at work (about an hour away) so he’d know his boat was adrift in the bay. As I told him, it wasn’t necessarily going anywhere. He thanked me, I let Mike know I’d contacted him, and then Mike proceeded to get into his small fishing boat, and pull our neighbor’s pontoon and tie it up to the nearest dock.

Neighbors “neighboring” is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?

As this all transpired, Radar was having a ball. He grabbed a toy, ran around like the nutjob he is, back and forth between our backyard and the two closest neighbors. Running up and down each dock, smiling and panting all the while. But he then did something I wasn’t anticipating.

He ran onto our dock, reached the end of it, looked around for a second, and then jumped into the lake. In the year that we have lived here in Minnesconsin, I haven’t seen him do that.

He sunk. My heart sunk at the same time. Then his head popped back up, he started his doggie paddling, and made his way to the left side of our dock. Which, of course, is thick with long, green reeds. He’s slipping and sliding, trying to gain some traction so he could make his way up onto the solid ground above, but he’s not going anywhere. He then dips himself under the dock, which really freaked me out.

Thoughts going through my head in this moment included “is he going to get stuck in the muck?” and “am I going to have to jump in and pull him out?”. Then, as my heart is fiercely pounding inside my chest, he pops out the other side. He struggles a bit with the reeds, which, no surprise, are also on the right side of our dock. But he managed to gain enough traction to get out of that mess and onto the ground above.

Whew!

Then he smiles, excessively shakes his body to get rid of all that water, and runs up the hill towards our house.

He was so proud of himself for his adventure that afternoon. I could hardly be angry with him. Needless to say, he got a bath that night. And we both slept like babies.

Celebrate, Church, Community, Diversity, Facebook, LGBTQIA+, Love, Parenthood

It’s Pride Month: Thoughts from an Ally

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A recent brawl discussion I inadvertently started on Facebook with a meme expressing my love and support of the LGBTQIA+ community frustrated me.

It was this meme:

Simple and to the point, right? Not up for discussion for me. Yet, a Facebook friend decided that this was an opportunity to pose as someone who is genuinely curious and open-minded. It was merely an excuse for this person to question the legitimacy of others who feel and think differently than them about their sexuality and gender identity.

I’d love to say that I got into the fray, but I didn’t. Chalk it up to being a person who shies away from conflict, but I can tell you that any response I would have given would have not made one lick of a difference in this person’s attitude or opinions. Also, two other friends of mine on Facebook, both members of the LGBTQIA+ community, responded with statistics and insights in a way that I could not have. So I let it be.

I’m an ally, striving to a better one. My youngest kid is queer and trans. I love them not “in spite” of their gender identity and sexual orientation, but in part because of it.

I love that my kid knows who they are at their core. I love that my kid felt comfortable coming out to Hubs and me. I love that my kid has a big heart for all, but especially for those in their community who haven’t found acceptance in their family of origin. A big part of what they do in their job is to reach out and help the unhoused population in Denver, some of which are also members of the LGBTQIA+ community. They (my kid) provide them with comfort and validation. They provide them with safety and resources. I couldn’t be prouder of them.

Beyond my open-hearted, creative, and intelligent kid, I love and admire many more of those in the LGBTQIA + community along with their allies. Many in this community are people I have close friendships with. People I have worked with or worked for. People who have cared about and for me, made me laugh, and enlightened me.

I am grateful for all of them.

Growing up and beyond, when the topic of LGBTQIA + came up, relatives of mine have said things like “God didn’t call them Adam and Steve, you know”. Former co-workers have said things like “love the sinner, hate the sin”. I never felt that I had the right words in those moments to respond to that unsolicited commentary.

Those worn-out, condescending, and clueless phrases infuriate me. Because I don’t believe homosexuality is a sin. The religious zealots in our midst like to shout their opposition, but in reality the Bible only mentions homosexuality in the context of men sleeping with boys. Which of course is pedophilia.

The God I believe in loves us all. The message I’ve received, thanks in part to a bit of studying and processing the Bible and being a long-term member of the UCC (United Church of Christ) is this: we are not to judge each other, but love each other. Care for each other. Support each other, regardless of our differences. Respect each other and hold space in our hearts for “the other”. Affirm, not just accept, each other.

My pastor (I attend “vurtch”, as in virtual church, due to my home church being stationed in Colorado and not here in Wisconsin) had a great sermon this past Sunday re: pride month, love, and the LGTBQIA+ community. One of the most important points he made was that here in the U.S., we are now, as a society, so anti-stranger. It’s true. And it’s sad.

Diversity in all of its forms is what makes the world go ’round. It deserves celebration. It deserves reverence. It deserves attention. We all benefit from it.

We are all just humans here, bumbling our way through life. Let’s have some compassion and move on.

Don’t we have bigger fish to fry than enacting laws that further disadvantage our LGBTQIA+ peers and youth and foment hate towards the “other”?

Here’s a song that touches my heart by the massively talented LGBTQ artist, Brandi Carlile.

Happy Pride Month to all who celebrate!!

Blogging, Community, Girlfriends, Humor, Lifestyle, Money, Positivity

Falling Short and Moving On

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I do not want this blog post to be a pity party. I am not going to wallow whatsoever. Everything is fine. I’m ready to move on.

Here’s the thing: my blog posts have not been terribly consistent. I skipped publishing last week because of my garage sale. I just did not have the time or the energy to come up with a blog post.

So, I fell short. And not only with blogging.

I told the gal on the phone when I was placing an ad in our local free “shopper” publication that “hopefully I’ll make more than” the cost of the ad. Well, I did that. Just not by much.

As they say, “The joke’s on me”.

My goal going into this garage sale was to make myself some money. I looked upon it as a personal fundraiser. Yet, I fell short.

No matter. Seriously. I benefitted from having this garage sale in other ways. More important than cold hard cash.

Like the fun “girl time” I had in the garage the night before with my neighbor and my sister-in-law. We enjoyed margaritas as we chatted and laughed, pricing stuff late into the night.

During the two-day sale, I had lots of interactions with other neighbors as well, and I learned a few things about the lake and our little neighborhood.

SIL and I re-purposed the crappy old stool one of our neighbors put out on the road the day before.

We giggled along with the kiddos and their parents that came in when the kids discovered my “Badass” (from the Jen Sincero book which I love) buzzer. You hit it once and it says (in Jen’s voice) “You can do eeet!”. Hit it again and it says “Do what you love!”. A third hit exclaims”Feed fear a suck-it sandwich!”, a fourth hit gets you “You create your reality!”, then these goofy (yet worthy) affirmations conclude with “You’re a badass!”

Yes, in this process I inadvertently taught my “bonus” grandson (daughter’s boyfriend’s 3-year-old) a naughty word. Oops.

The buzzer didn’t sell. I think I’m going to keep it. I suspect it will come in handy someday.

I also came up with another idea: to sell my stuff on Facebook Marketplace. There’s still quite a bit of stuff left, obviously, and selling it this way seems much easier than my previous method. Additionally, being the student that I am, I am eager to learn new-to-me social media skills.

Now it’s time to share the most appropriate song for the state I’m in after this experience. It’s “the worst song ever” per my 9 year-old-grandson.

Baking, Community, Curiosity, Facebook, gardening, Google, Lifestyle

The Latest Question

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Is rhubarb a fruit or a vegetable?

This is what my brain started to wonder about a couple of weeks ago.

The visual from my yard that prompted this initial question:

This is one bush? Or is it simply called a plant?

I’m proud to say that while I was tempted to say it’s a fruit (based on my association of rhubarb to sweet baked goods), just before I clicked enter when I put that question into Google search, I thought “no, it’s a vegetable”. I think it’s because it grows in the ground.

It’s not uncommon for a question answered to lead to another question, which is what happened next.

Because of course, I have no idea what to do with it. I fancy myself a maven of the kitchen, but rhubarb is not something that has ever been in my repertoire. My vague recollection of rhubarb, as I don’t think Bonnie (my mom) grew it in her backyard garden, is that it’s not pleasant to eat raw. That must have been someone else’s garden. It tasted like sour celery. I do have memories, however, of enjoying it baked in cake or muffins.

So, I proceeded on a quest for “best practices” for all things rhubarb. My walking buddy/neighbor, who is far more knowledgeable than I of all things gardening, told me last week that I ought to be picking it within the next couple of weeks.

Time was of the essence, and because I think it’s more fun to crowd- source certain questions than it is to Google it out, I turned to Facebook.

I learned that cutting the stalks is a no-no. Doing so prevents it from growing back next year. I was told by many to not eat the leaves as they are poisonous (not like it would occur to me to eat them in the first place). Freezing the cut-up stalks was a common piece of advice, which I will be following. My Facebook friends were enthusiastic about strawberry rhubarb jam and pies too.

One response was via DM from a friend from our old neighborhood in La Crosse. She had just pulled her rhubarb stalks out of her garden and was in the process of cooking them down with water and sugar to make sauce when she happened upon my query on Facebook. She told me she freezes the sauce to pour over ice cream, yogurt, or cake in the winter months. She also shared that she makes a “mean” rhubarb gin and tequila. I’m not a gin fan, but that sure sounds like a creative use for this vegetable doesn’t it?

I also perused Bonnie’s recipe box and found a few different recipes for cake, muffins, and pie. I love seeing her handwriting on these cards. It conjures up her voice for me, which is bittersweet. Kind of like rhubarb, I suppose.

The surprise bonus for me was the anecdotal information Bonnie provided on some of the recipe cards. The “Mom” in the recipe referred to as “Mom’s Wonderful Rhubarb Cake” was Bonnie’s mom, my Grandma Pearl. I gathered this from Bonnie writing “just super good and mom doesn’t esp. like rhubarb”. Another recipe card I found among the rhubarb recipes in Bonnie’s recipe box was for orange bread. She noted at the top of the card “Dad’s”. That would be her dad, my Grandpa Fritz.

I’m thinking rhubarb sauce would be quite delicious drizzled on top of this orange bread. I’ll report back once I’ve tried making it.

Ambition, Community, Dreams, Employment, Fashion, Inspiration, Life, Small Business, Storytelling

Moms and Pops

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In my online search for writing fodder, I learned that today is “National Mom and Pops Business Owners Day”.

Have you ever heard of this before? I’m guessing not. I hadn’t either.

Finding out about this national day made me think of my own “mom and pop”. I know I’ve mentioned in past blog posts that my parents, Bonnie and Babe, were small business owners for many years. A women’s clothing store, to be exact.

Prior to my parents ownership of the business, it had been known as “Kay’s Clothes Bar”, on account of the building’s history of housing, you guessed it, a bar.

The name, of course, was changed once my parents took it over.

A keepsake

How the store became theirs is remarkable.

When my mom, at 42, was gabbing with her girlfriends one day in 1979, one of them posed the question “if you could own your own business, what would it be?” Bonnie responded with “I would own Kay’s Clothes Bar”.

That was on a Thursday.

While out and about on that following Saturday morning, my dad called my mom and asked if she was serious about wanting to have a clothing store, and she said yes, she was indeed. Dad had learned that morning that “Kay’s” was up for sale.

So together they forged ahead with becoming small business owners. Dad was on strike from his job at the mining company at the time, so this venture was a huge leap of faith.

Me, at 16, posing in the store

Though Dad had a great mathematical mind, he hadn’t gone to college (neither did Mom). Fortunately that mattered not, because his pragmatism, work ethic, and desire to keep Mom happy worked in concert with his accounting skills to see them through 15 years of being successful small business owners.

One thing that Mom took pride in was her ability to remain current. I think she was a young soul, really, because of her committed interest in staying on top of things. On top of fashion trends, on top of the news of the day, on top of whatever was going on in our little town. She didn’t miss a thing.

She was a social being who was happiest among others. She loved visiting with her customers, creating beautiful displays to “wow” them, and sharing her fashion expertise.

I very much relate to these aspects of Bonnie. So much so that as I sit here writing this post, I’ve been periodically glancing out the window at our “man cave”, (the name will be changing to something that’s not a cliche), thinking up ways to decorate and furnish it as it is to be (at least in part) a fun gathering spot for neighborhood parties and family get-togethers.

Yet lately I’ve started day dreaming about what kind of business I could run in this space. You see, I’m slowly but surely honing in on what it is I’m going to do, work-wise. And there’s so much potential, right here. I could section off a portion of the building for an office for myself to pursue paid creative writing projects or open it up as a non-profit food pantry. Or do something altogether different with this space.

At the risk of sounding like a total flake here, I believe that while I fancy the notion of operating my own small business, I can’t say definitively that working for someone else is out of the question for me. For the right job, the one in which I can use the skills I possess to help others, I would consider being someone’s employee again.

Of course, that would be the easy choice. Much less risky.

It makes me wonder, what would Bonnie and Babe think?

So, I’ve given myself a project this spring. I’m having a garage sale. Over the last several weeks, I’ve been methodically going through all of our stuff and determining what we no longer need. I’ve been going on Pinterest for ideas on how to put on the best garage sale possible.

I figure this is a good way for me to practice having a small business. It also gives me something to focus on as the time I have to spend watching our grandson lessens.

But back to Bonnie and Babe.

I don’t think I realized until the last few years just how much my parents teamwork and individual contributions as small business owners shaped who I am as an adult. How I think, what I dream about, and how I want to live in community with others.

My hard-working parents had so many adventures together in mid-life on account of being small business owners. Financially, they were successful at it, putting me through college and funding their vacations both inside and outside the U.S.

But perhaps even more importantly, they enjoyed running the store together. They took pride in it. They developed meaningful friendships they may not have otherwise developed. They made a positive impact on our community.

Back when I was going through pictures, just prior to moving back to Wisconsin from Colorado last year, I came upon a treasure. It was a clipping from our hometown newspaper of an article about my parents as they were fixing to close up shop and retire.

Retirement came a few years earlier than they had planned, as a dispute with the owner of the building over the lease had developed. They came to the conclusion that it was time to close up shop as a result.

However, Bonnie and Babe retained their great attitudes, with Bonnie commenting to the reporter in the article “As unfortunate as this is, it’s not a tragedy; no one’s dying, we still have each other”. To which Babe responded “if this is as tough as it gets, we’ve got it made”.

Cheers to all of you small business owners out there on this national day. May your customers be loyal, may you stay the course, and may you flourish!

Church, Colorado living, Community, Happiness, Hope, Life, Moods, Positivity

Looking Forward

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This past year, I found myself in a place where, for the first time in my life, I believe I understood what depression feels like. I put full blame for this on the Covid-19 pandemic. It really threw a wrench in my moods and my attitude.

I think it showed in some of my blog posts. Sorry about that.

Sure, I started a new job back in August and that lifted my spirits, infused me with some energy and ambition. But the days became the same it seemed. While for the most part, I liked (and still do like) having a daily routine, I often felt bored. Uninspired. Unmotivated. My interest in things I historically enjoyed doing waxed and waned.

I believe one reason behind this is that I didn’t have anything to really look forward to. No concrete plans. No fun activities on the immediate horizon. Unlike a post I penned back in 2018.

You can all relate, right?

What helped, especially on those particularly “blah” days, was saying out loud what I am glad about. Sort of like the “Glad Game” I’ve heard about from the “Pollyanna” movie which I have not yet seen (what is wrong with me???!!)

Typically I would spout this out while driving our truck to work. Naturally, doing this was harder some days than others. But once I did it, my spirits lifted. My attitude shifted to one of gratitude. I recognize that sounds cheesy-but it’s the truth, Ruth.

Let me give you an example. As I started backing out of the garage one morning, I said “today I am glad that after work I’m getting a massage. And I had a good night’s sleep last night. And I started a new blog post”. It’s all just simple things, specific to that day. Focusing on what is truly good in the moment and not wishing things were different or thinking that they ought to be.

But now things are really starting to look up for me. For you, too, I think. We’ve got a new administration in the People’s House who is taking this pandemic head-on. Covid-19 cases are starting to plummet. More and more of us are getting vaccinated (for me, as an essential worker, I ought to be getting my first dose by mid-March).

I may be jinxing it, getting ahead of myself…but I think it’s *safe* to begin to think about what there is to look forward to in the near-ish future. You know, those things we couldn’t do because the pandemic kept us home for the most part.

What’s on your list?

Here’s mine:

  • A date with Hubs, the scientist who has been far more informed and conscientious re: Covid-19 than most, to shop at Trader Joe’s in Boulder and have lunch at the nearby Panera.
  • Visiting our favorite local brew pub, Twenty Brew, which I am thankful is still in business. It’s been too long since we’ve been there to try new brews and visit with the owner, Dave, and his charming bartenders.
  • Chatting in person with our church friends at church. Hosting “coffee hour” where I get to share sweet goodies I made in the little kitchen in our townhome the day before.
  • A weekend in Idaho Springs with Hubs. Where we get to soak in the communal hot springs and check out the local cuisine and quirky shops. Maybe we will stay at Ms. Vicki ‘s B&B again.
  • A day trip to Estes Park. Hiking. Taking in the astonishingly beautiful scenery, both on the drive up and while hiking amidst it’s majesty.

Now I know that realistically some of these things will not happen anytime soon. If I’m extraordinarily fortunate, they will all take place before the end of the summer. But if only a portion of them happen, it’s all good.

If this pandemic has taught me anything, it’s to appreciate what is and to keep my expectations reasonable.

Art, Community, Dancing, Gems, Hope, Inspiration, Joy, Movies, Music, Positivity

Sometimes Gems Are Gents

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I knew back in February of this godforsaken year when I watched David Byrne and his crew perform on SNL that I wanted more of it.

It wasn’t until I saw another blogger posting about it then read the Esquire interview with Byrne and Spike Lee and realized they collaborated to bring Byrne’s Broadway show “American Utopia” show to the masses via HBO, that I was able to actually get more of it.

I watched it at home with Rabbie and I was enthralled. I hope you all have the good sense to watch it yourselves. I’m not going to even attempt to explain what it was all about, mainly because I know I’d miss something important.

But I will say this: David Byrne’s “American Utopia” is weird. In the very best of ways. There’s of course the music, which is so jubilant. There is the oddly intriguing interpretive dance. There are the wonderfully talented, multi-cultural musicians and dancers backing it all up. There is much food for thought. It’s cerebral. But it’s not so cerebral that it’d be over anyone’s heads if that makes sense. Ultimately, it’s a celebration of humanity and community.

This phenomenally cool show along with the uplifting and worthy-of-your-time website David heads up, is part of what makes him a “Gem” to me. A national fucking treasure.

Within the website, https://reasonstobecheerful.world/, you will find well-written, thoughtful, fascinating, and inspiring articles. It’s essentially the good news we all need these days. I’ve known of this website for probably a year now, but hadn’t kept up with it. I allowed myself to instead pay attention to Facebook, Twitter, MSNBC, and NPR to keep current on things. That is going to change, as I’m re-committing myself to reading an article or two daily on this website.

Because of David Byrne, I’m also doubling down on focusing on the positive. The good stuff that will expand my understanding of things and leave me feeling more hopeful. While by nature I am an optimist, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t take a bit of work to maintain that optimistic outlook, especially with the plethora of bad news and bad attitudes lurking in every corner of the internet and in the news.

I think we need more people in the world like David Byrne. The people who think outside the box. The intelligently quirky ones. The question askers. The forward thinking folks who have a sense of genuine curiousity about the world and the people who inhabit it. The creative problem solvers who generously share their talents and insights to make the world a better place for all of us.

Let me leave you with what is probably my favorite Talking Heads tune.

***Header image art by none other than Mr. Byrne himself courtesy of http://www.davidbyrneart.com/?portfolio=love