Making it in Toledo

Quarantine summer, updated

It’s been 20+ years since my kids installed our little pond right outside the screened porch. No one thought to use a level, so it’s always been a bit wonky, but I love it and so do the goldfish, frogs, toads, and various plant life that have enjoyed it. We even had a brief visit from migrating ducks one year. And of course there have been fountains, for many years a stone turtle, but more lately a bronze frog.

Our bedroom is right above the pond, and the sound is just as wonderful as the sight. Every year we wait for the frogs to arrive.

But this year it had a leak. After almost-daily refills we knew we had to step up our game. Luckily the same model liner was still available and affordable and in stock. The girls had to strap it to the trunk to bring it home from Menard’s. Today they began the process of securing the aquatic life in a bucket, emptying the pond, replacing the old liner with a new one and leveling it. It was a joint effort, and I have high hopes!

Watch this space for updates!!!

first world complaining

I thought I would cope better with quarantine. It’s been ten weeks. We have money, plenty of food, and I’m sheltering with people I love in a home I have enjoyed living in for 40 years.

But I am struggling, as I suppose most everyone is.

I’ve moved through and adapted to several sequential identities since I became an adult: student, teacher, full time stay-at-home mom, full time political activist/volunteer/staffer. The last professional cycle, my years as a research associate at the University of Toledo Urban Affairs Center, ended 7 years ago. Since then I’ve been active as a leader in a couple of non-profits, I’ve served as a mentor to a few young people. I’ve enjoyed learning and teaching in each of those roles, and those roles are how I have defined myself.

One constant in my life for at least 50 years has been making a home for both my family and frequent guests. The first part of that is ongoing, and I really miss the second part. I also miss a social life with John including restaurants, music, and civic events.

I love having my daughter and my granddaughter live with us. But I miss the occasional meal without kids or pets. I miss thoughtful and intelligent conversations with a range of people in a convivial group with good food and drinks that I’ve had the privilege to prepare.

I’m asking myself, as we all are, when those things will be possible again and what can best make up for their absence in the meantime.

Virtual conversations with friends and family are good, and the Facebook Portal my kids bought make that easier and better. Well-written and neither too-heavy nor too-frivolous novels help. Cooking helps, especially baking bread. Gardening helps. As soon as the weather co-operates, being outdoors will help a lot.

Columbines came back with no help from me.

Okay, rant over. I took a break. I planted some tomatoes and I removed several sprouted acorns from the herb beds. I can do this.

Thanks for reading.

Just a year ago

It was nearing the end of our time in Spain and the end of my several weeks in Europe. We had spent hours every day walking in Barcelona, and I needed a break from that, so we bought tickets for a bus trip to Montserrat. Despite the rain, there were spectacular view of the mountains.

The walk from the parking lot to the site included a row of vendors selling local cheeses. Each one was better than the last, so I decided to risk confiscation and add several to my suitcase. I didn’t regret that.

Yesterday Johana and I took Aloisa on a road trip – we drove for forty five minutes, all within a couple of miles of home. After weeks of isolation, Loi was ecstatic to see a slightly larger world: “bushes!! flowers!! flags!!” Her enthusiasm was fun but a bit heartbreaking.

I’ve been fortunate to travel quite a bit and I enjoy the memories. Right now it’s nice to remember the weeks I spent in Europe last year, both on my own in Romania and Hungary and, later exploring Budapest and Barcelona with John.

Trips in 2020 are certain to be much closer to home. Soon, the warmer weather should allow us to expand into the outdoors. In a few weeks, maybe we’ll get beyond the neighborhood. But I suspect that continuing efforts to grow my world will look very different from here on out.

remembering martha

My sister Martha would have been 63 today. I would have made her a beautiful cake and bought her a pretty present. But she’s been gone for almost 30 years, so I will drink some bubbly for her (not the Frexinet she favored, but what we have will do), remember the good times and be grateful that her husband, who still misses her, has built a good life for himself and that their daughter, who never knew her, has grown up to be kind, smart, and happy.

Martha was stubborn, bold, and always open to an adventure. In high school, she ran away from home with a boyfriend and for a while took up with some questionable characters before deciding that she wanted more choices in life. She came home and went to community college where she learned some valuable computer skills, and went on to earn more than I ever did. She lived with us in Toledo for a couple of years and was a much-loved aunt to my kids (imagine first sip of alcohol, first tattoo, learning to ride a bike – just imagine!). She grew up. After a few years, in my back yard, wearing our mother’s wedding dress and carrying flowers from the Toledo Farmers Market, she married our friend Steve, who was a good balance for her. They had fun together, traveled, and eventually became parents. Martha was a good mom to their daughter Gina for the almost 2 years they had together.

I miss her.

flatten the curve

I’ve been stocking up for weeks: dried beans and rice and pasta in the pantry. Vegetables, chicken and some meat in the freezer. Constant re-stocking of perishables just in case.

I wash my hands more than ever before, and for longer.

But today it got real. All those articles (and especially this one) about flattening the curve convinced me that “cancel everything” has to be on the table. I stayed home tonight instead of going to a wine dinner I was looking forward to, and for which I had tickets. It just wasn’t necessary.

It’s a compromise. This morning I went to the dentist and chances are that tomorrow I will keep my appointment for a haircut.

What are you doing about the coronavirus and how are you feeling about it?

Bon temps in the glass city

What a week!

So Bernie Sanders is the front-runner. Personally I don’t like him much. Despite his admirable ideas, I find him too loud, too cranky, and too old (inexplicably older than my first choice, Warren). By March 17th and the Democratic primary, my vote probably won’t mean much, but it will go to Elizabeth Warren. In November, I’ll be voting for whoever is the Democratic nominee. Because this is existential. (Thanks to Bernie for pointing that out.)

Politics and climate change are hanging over my head like a black cloud, but I’d like to focus on a few positive moments from the week:

Although the IRS doesn’t know it yet, their suggestion that we owe them a bundle is wrong. I know that a blurry $ may look like a 3 on my 1099, but I earned $2500 for that project, not $32,500. Shouldn’t be too hard to prove, so I celebrated by making myself a Boulevardier:

Not all of the good times involved alcohol: On Thursday, we finally saw Fireflies on the Water. But the most magical part of our TMA visit happened at the Family Center in the dress-up room. Having recently been introduced to Harry Potter, Aloisa chose this ensemble:

On Friday, we got a jump-start on Mardi Gras at Bellwether:

Hot dogs and Sazeracs, the perfect pairing…

On top of all this deliciousness we got to listen to great music chosen by Ben Cohen’s perfectly-named for the occasion alter-ego, DJ Bennie Goodtimes.

Here’s to more good time this week…

Thank you, Steve Sando

My bean club order came today, a homely quarterly treat.

I’m fascinated by that word, homely, and how it has two almost-opposite meanings:

home·ly/ˈhōmlē/adjective

home·ly/ˈhōmlē / adjective

1.NORTH AMERICAN unattractive in appearance. Similar: unattractive plain plain-featured plain-looking plain as a pikestaff ordinary-looking unprepossessing unlovely ill-favored ugly …Opposite: attractive
BRITISH(of a place or surroundings) simple but cozy and comfortable, as in one’s own home.”a modern hotel with a homely atmosphere “Similar: cozy home-like homey comfortable snug welcoming friendly

Although we are by no means vegetarian, for so many reasons, I frequently cook meat-free meals. Since I discovered Rancho Gordo that often means beans. Beans bubbling in a clay pot is certainly a familiar sight in my kitchen. I value cozy and comfortable, but actually I think beans are often beautiful as well.

Besides the beans, I appreciate the whimsy of Rancho Gordo. Old Mexican movie posters. Annual calendars that make me smile all year. And Stardust which is calling out to me: “Make margaritas.”

I can’t wait to use this on the rim of a glass!

I met RG’s owner, Steve Sando, once at a farmers market. He was on hand when I visited the store, too. Most of my interaction with RG is on line, but even there it’s easy to recognize that this is a special company. Great customer service. A bean club. A special facebook group for bean club members. I feel that I belong.

Food isn’t just food. Shopping isn’t just shopping. I REALLY dislike big grocery stores, and I avoid them as much as possible. I’m grateful for farmers and vendors of real food.

Cook beans with me?

so far so good

Ten days or so ago, the weather was miserable and John was getting a cold. We got a call from a friend/relative urging us to visit him in southwest Florida in February. The timing was just right, and we said let’s make it happen. Then I realized that I had a companion ticket ready to expire at the end of January, and our plans accelerated. We planned several days with our friend and then some time on our own.

We enjoyed exploring with Steve including a river tour, watching manatees, a kite festival and a visit to a holocaust museum (not fun but we’re glad we did it).

Here’s where the gratitude comes in: when we got ready to pick up a rental car for the next phase of our vacation, we discovered that John’s driver’s license has expired and mine had disappeared. No rental car for us! But it turns out that using LYFT to get where we wanted to go, get around for a few days, and back to the airport actually is going to be cheaper than the anticipated cost of the car rental. And since we’re carrying all other kinds of ID, although it may take some extra time we can probably get home in a few days.

So here’s the current situation:

Grateful, for sure….

When we gather…

Our first celebration of the new year was a few days ago, a small family-and-friends party for John’s birthday. We ate, we drank, and all the guests went home before the storm hit.

In 2020 I’m going to enjoy life and share the enjoyment. The existential threat of climate change is always in the background but it doesn’t have to always be the focus.

Do you think Nancy Pelosi is enjoying life? What about Greta Thunberg? Alice Waters is another one of my sheroes; I’m pretty sure she is.

I crossed paths with Alice once, years ago, at an amazing Slow Food event in the mountains outside of Puebla, Mexico. Lots of mezcal and tequila, chocolate being stirred in a big vat, delicious food and, after dark, the spine-tingling surprise appearance of animal-costumed musician/priests making otherworldly music. It’s a nice memory.

For a few weeks I think I’ll jump on the gratitude bandwagon and write about it here. I’m grateful for the satisfaction it gives me to gather people together around a table, to connect people who enjoy each other, to share food and wine and conversation. I’m grateful when other people include me in their gatherings.

Here’s to 2020.

City of Brotherly Love

Our three-generation household means I am not often alone, but last week was different. We spent almost a week in Philadelphia. It was my first visit, and I explored the city while John attended conference meetings.

Chinatown, and me trying unsuccessfully to capture a pic of the woman selling vegetables on the street

I loved the dragons, two Korean and two Chinese

We stayed first in the Rittenhouse Square neighborhood and later in the historic district. Every day was sunny, but the tall buildings meant that I had to search out places to bask.

History, of course, was everywhere I went, including the history of public health, which fit with John’s purpose for being there.

Christ Church Burial Ground, where Benjamin Franklin is buried

I visited some wonderful restaurants and a new-favorite museum (more on those later). I listened to some incredible jazz in a unique venue. I browsed a few stores. I slept late every day. My first visit to Philadelphia made me want to return, and I’m am grateful that I had the chance to go.

I am happy to be home.