COVID Captures: March

The first puzzle we completed, minus the top-center, inevitably-missing piece. 

Felix and I have spent a lot of time snuggling and humming together on the couch.

The line at Aldi a week ago.

This is me not wanting to get in that line.

Weirdest game I've ever won.

Owen found major beaver evidence on a hike.

Any activity will do these days.

Felix watching Frozen 2. I'm a little bit with him--didn't really care for this one.

Peruvian pesto face.

FaceTiming with Livi.

Time to actually paint pretty nails.

I can't tell you how many people have sent me this. Haha guys.

8 poached eggs for eggs benedict Sunday.

But maybe not right now.

Happy boy and his Big George.

The Orange Shoes of Pearce Church livestream fame.

Zoom piano lesson in our jammies.

Justice is sweet.

Owen climbing the hedge in the backyard.

In my Easter Sunday outfit recording a month ahead of time. I am absolutely exhausted in this shot after numerous days of recording and constantly having to be spot-on pianistically/vocally. We got this done less than 24 hours before the governor invoked quarantine.

Smith family Zoom hangout, in which I suffered an allergy attack. Sorry for all the sneezing guys. I promise, it was just allergies!!!

Ways I Accidentally Prepared for COVID-19

• Had the treadmill serviced a week before things got real.
• Replaced the battery in Roy's cell phone the same weekend we got the treadmill worked on.
• Didn't try too hard to fall in love with Parks and Rec before March 2020.
• Gave my husband a reason to use Finale for some church work and inadvertently reinvigorated his zeal for arranging.
• Planned a worship night at church centered on the theme of compassion--printed and rehearsed a dozen songs in preparation. Didn't get to do the worship night, but recorded most of those songs under the gun for the next month-plus of services, in a time when compassion is essential.
• Recently bought fresh running shoes.
• Replaced my broken Kindle immediately instead of waiting a month.
• Am already experienced at using the e-book system with our library.
• Love to cook and bake.
• Have an electronic piano that has a record function and doesn't go out of tune.
• Have a mother who is a pro at giving lessons via Skype.
• I already cut everyone's hair.

Today I started The Project that has been on the bucket list for years and I just haven't been able to commit to. Sourdough starter is in the kitchen. If all goes according to plan we may have our first loaf by Sunday. Fingers crossed!

Church today

This morning we worshiped at home. I read a few Bible stories to the boys from The Jesus Storybook Bible as I heard Roy tuning into his pastor's sermon from another room. Then Felix and I snuggled up and tuned into the prerecorded service we put together at Pearce. It is very odd to not be at church. It is odder still to "worship via computer." It's oddest yet to "worship with your prerecorded self via computer."

I was pleased with the uptick in quality from an audio standpoint this week. Our voices sounded more blended, which meant I sounded a lot less like a buzz saw. The band blend was pretty nice too. I tried hard to actually participate with the music, prayers, and sermon, but it's also a bit like watching a movie you acted in for the first time. I was easily distracted.

Here we are! (This was recorded on Monday night I think.)

I wasn't the only one. Soon I got texts from my fellow worship director, Jessie. We agreed that the quality was better this week. Then she said, "I didn't realize that by wearing black and sitting near the piano I'd look like a floating head."

Of course I didn't notice this. Nobody notices those funny things that stick out to you when you see/hear yourself recorded. I didn't notice Jessie the Floating Head because all I could see were Julie's Bright Orange Shoes, which they promised wouldn't be in the shot.

(Traditional from the waist up, contemporary from the waist down...) Of course Jessie hadn't noticed my shoes, and we laughed together at our self absorption. The important thing was, of course, that we had worked together to put together a nice finished product. And people were singing with us in their homes and wasn't that nice? Then my phone pinged:

"Our daily bread"--a new reality

Today I went grocery shopping. I had been putting it off as long as possible, after a rather chaotic experience last Saturday and hearing horror stories of empty shelves and limited supplies. I planned a pretty basic menu for next week and went over the list a few times even before standing in the pre-opening line. I wanted to have a plan to get the essentials as quickly as possible and then circle back for fresher items. Every second counts when there are 100 people in line...

(Side note: does menu planning go out the window if you can't find eggs, flour, or other staples? I haven't given up on it just yet. I intend to flex my substitution muscles for the immediate future.)

Between Aldi and Wegmans I located just about everything on my list. Aldi was out of flour, eggs, and sugar, but they had oatmeal and rice. Wegmans supplied me the last bag of flour in the store and a dozen eggs. I came home and, with even more gratitude than usual, unpacked our sustenance for the next week.

I was grateful for the money to be able to pay a little extra for the organic eggs since the regulars were gone. I was grateful for the time to get to the store early and wait in line to have early pick of the stock. I was grateful for a husband who could stay home with the boys and let me focus singularly on the task at hand. And I was grateful for disinfectant wipes and antibacterial soap upon my return!

I came across this article recently and it was sobering, to say the least: https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2020/03/20/if-coronavirus-doesnt-get-us-starvation-will-growing-number-americans-say-they-cant-afford-stock-up-groceries/. In brief summary, there are many, many people in our country who, due to government assistance, weren't able to "stock up" ahead of time, or don't have the flexibility to get to stores when they are freshly re-stocked. They're completely beholden to the mailman, the check, and whatever is left behind for them at stores for them to glean.

It made me think of that prayer that is on our minds a bit more lately, "give us this day our daily bread." We know there are people in our country who can't afford food. But now we also have people who can afford it, they just can't afford it whenever they want and are faced with next to nothing by the time they get to the grocery store. We pray for all of those who face harsh uncertainties of hunger due to the spread of COVID-19.

But, my fortunate friends, maybe we need to practice "give us this day our daily bread" more too. There is something that just doesn't set right with me when I see photos of people proudly displaying their storehouses of canned goods and toilet paper. Of bottled water and sacks of flour. What if God is able to give us our daily bread each time we go to the store? If we were willing to rely on Him a little more and our doomsday tendencies a little less we might be blessed. We might realize in new ways that He makes good on His promises, every morning. And while we are learning that we can also bless those people who can only shop every now and then, and with limited resources.

I could have bought 8 bags of rice today. I could have purchased 12 canisters of oatmeal. But I didn't, because it would have cleared the shelf. (I did take the last bag of flour...it's a journey, OK?!)

I haven't sorted all of this out yet, but I keep coming back to the promises of God. That He cares for us more than the sparrow, that we should ask Him faithfully for our daily bread, and that He will supply all our needs.

"Tis to sweet to trust in Jesus--just to rest upon His promise--oh for grace to trust Him more."

Favorite things right now

With Felix:

• Snuggling under a blanket together in the library and watching the fat sparrows next door. Half of the fun is that we're allowed to call them fat.
• Going for walks outside and collecting rocks.
• Watching him pull out the smoothie straws by himself each morning and jump around the kitchen floor while the blender runs.

With Owen:

• School each morning. He is getting to be quite a whiz at math!
• We've all been sleeping in a bit, but he faithfully crawls into my bed at the earliest allowed minute and snuggles close until I'm sufficiently conscious to make breakfast.
• Going for walks outside and collecting rocks. And then returning them because they were actually landscaping stones.

With James:

• Discussing the books he's been reading. He's almost reached his goal of 25 chapter books and then we can order (pick up only!) Chicken Charlie pizza. 
• Watching him and Roy laugh over dumb Latin jokes that I already don't understand.
• Snuggling next to him during movie nights.

With Roy:

• Reading quietly together
• Discussing what we've been reading
• Keeping up with the housework together.
• Finding one stupid video each day that makes us laugh out loud. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSKLf-fqtxo

First impressions: COVID-19

It's a gloriously sunshiney day outside. I can hear a bird chirping outside our window. We all slept in this morning and consumed a leisurely, fancy breakfast of eggs benedict. I've been on a long run and Owen and I are making rapid progress on a puzzle of the Eiffel Tower.

If I had had four weeks to look forward to this day I think my expectations would have been met and exceeded. But, of course, we didn't have any idea even 48 hours ago that we would all be home together on a Sunday. Our country, state, and local community's guidelines for self quarantine have led to this feeling of chaotic mind-spinning, tempered by very little to actually DO.

Yesterday I spent several hours at church recording music for our weekend service, delivered online. Our plan is to meet again first thing this next week to get as much advanced service work recorded in case they close the church building to everyone (currently staff are allowed inside). It was so odd. The expectation is that you are "supposed to be worshipping" but in reality it feels exactly like a recording session and for goodness sake don't make a mistake and how should I make my face look?? And then, in the midst of all that mental gymnastics you remember why you are actually doing all of this. Deep breath.

Roy is restless. He doesn't sit still very well unless he's earned it, and there haven't been many long drives and concerts in Buffalo and Syracuse to merit a nap or a long book. So he flits from chore to chore, sitting down from time to time to pound out arrangements on Finale for a long-term recital project. He may have it done a whole lot sooner than expected.

The boys are largely content. Owen is enjoying having two adults in the house simultaneously, which doubles his chances for nabbing one of us for an activity. James never wants to leave the house anyway, and Mommy and Daddy seem to be a lot more lenient about movie nights these days. Felix doesn't know anything is amiss, except he asks occasionally now to "wah' HANs" (Wash hands.)

I don't have anything especially profound to add to this brief summary, except to say that it would feel odd not to have in writing some record of how we are doing in this unprecedented season. And with nothing to do, perhaps more boring blogs are in my future.

Owen at the Allergist

Upon entering the hospital:

"Will I have to get a shot?"

"...not exactly."

"OK."

Upon entering the waiting room, to the receptionist:

"Will I have to get a shot? Do you have a prize box?"

Upon getting vitals taken:

"Can Cute <stuffed panda> get weighed with me? I am getting very tall."

Upon getting blood pressure taken:

"This is my favorite part!"

Upon the entrance of the doctor:

"Do you have any kids? Do I have to get a shot? Do I get to eat any nuts today?"
"Uh, no to all of the above. Now, I see that we incorporated peanuts into his diet a year ago--how is that going?"
"I'M ON A DIET?!? THAT'S WHAT YOU DO WHEN YOU WANT TO LOSE WEIGHT!!"
Me, embarrassed, "...which you learned from Garfield comics and not from your mother."

Upon the entrance of the skin-prick technician:

"Is this a shot? Why are you marking my arms? Hey, those are purple dots like the Ravens. Ouch--are you sure this isn't a shot? Oh, wait, I can't really feel anything."

Upon the re-entrance of the doctor:

"Are we all done now? I didn't even have to get a shot!"

Upon the initial entrance of the blood-draw technician:

"Hey, why are you talking about blood? Are you going to give me a shot? What's a blood draw? Is that like a shot? Is there a needle??? Aaaa-AAAAAHAHHHH!!!"

<Here we pause for thirty minutes of panic, noisy hyperventilating, and outright bribery whilst awaiting the return of the blood-draw technician.>

Upon the return of the blood-draw technician:

"I'm watching George. George is funny. Ha-ha. Hey, what did you just do? Why is there a needle in my arm? What is that red stuff? What's in those two containers? Is that my blood? Can I hold those? Wow. That's so cool. Hey, can I take these home with me?"

Epilogue: What Owen doesn't realize, among other things, is that he participated in an experimental study today to hopefully help develop allergy testing only requiring a mouth swab. For his participation, which included one of the two vials of blood, and sucking on a cotton swab, we were paid $40, which we agreed should go to him. Or at least most of it...let's not overlook Mom's cut for pain and suffering.