Swing In A Tree

Monday, January 3, 2022

“March and Anxiety”

February's freeze

Snow and ice in February

I wrestled with Sunday Night Anxiety for many years when I taught. I paced the house snarling at anyone who crossed my field of vision. Some evenings I cried because I didn’t want to go to work the next day. Once I retired, this overblown unease retreated into the background, resurfacing for “special” occasions like doing income taxes or handling unexpected car malfunctions. Worry dogged me whenever Perfection’s crown slipped. Making simple mistakes drove me crazy, even when no one else knew about my blunder.

Waltzing with worry meant I weighed my thought processes constantly whenever stress strode into my day. With COVID-19 looming daily in the background, I meticulously measured my “Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!” warnings. By March of 2021, getting all of us vaccinated motived my days. I strategized an attack that resulted in booking appointments for both my husband and me within the first days of our eligibility. Beginning midnight of the designated date, I rotated through Walgreens, CVS, Walmart, HEB, and the UT Health sites in fifteen minute intervals. This technique worked again the next week when my son’s age group gained eligibility. By the end of March, all three of us had received the first shot of Pfizer.

Other Life ripples resolved during March, too. Our 2019 income taxes, buried under a pile of unprocessed forms at the IRS, finally got processed. Our rough-running car came out of its repair running like new. Our yard and gardens, frozen into submission in February, reemerged with subtle hope.

March's Hope

Rebirth and Regrowth

Sunday, January 2, 2022

“February Freeze”

The ice and snow that froze Texas into place in mid-February of 2021 skipped over our house snuggled safely among a police station, fire station, and hospital. Survivor’s guilt blanked my days as I watched family and friends struggle with rolling black-outs, or even losing electricity for several days.

Before the storm hit, I fretted over the phone with my sister over our brother, Charles, driving to work in his ancient car because he’d never driven on snow or ice before. Finally, I called him and talked him into going into work ahead of the storm. The hospital has given him a room or cot in the past when hurricanes swirl in the Gulf. I begged him to see if they would let him stay one night.

When he called to let me know he would go in well before the bad weather hit, I reminded him to leave water running in his kitchen and bathroom sinks. He laughed since my sister had just given him the exact same instructions.

None of us predicted that the freezing temperatures would cascade the entire state into a collapsing grid nightmare that plummeted households and businesses into darkness and cold for many days.

Charles didn’t return to his house for a couple of days, and when he did, it was to find the pipe in his master bathroom had burst. The water cascaded down from the ceiling, with the deluge flooding almost every room in his home. He ran next door and a neighbor helped him turn off the water. Then he made a frantic call to my sister, as both she and her husband were already fully vaccinated for COVID-19 and live about ninety minutes away. My sister reached me (my phone service was spotty due to the storm) to get the name of the plumber my brother uses. She left urgent messages on his voicemail, texts, and email! Her diligence paid off because the plumber had Charles second on his list. The burst pipe was replaced within days.

My sister also found a general contractor who ripped out the saturated carpet within a few days. This contractor went through the house with expert care, itemized every repair, and sent a detailed report to the insurance company. Within days, my brother knew how much money he’d receive. He and the contractor spent a couple of days selecting new tile floors, vanities for the bathroom and other odds-n-ends to reassemble my brother’s home.

The speed in getting Charles’s house repaired ground to a halt since thousands of homes and businesses in Texas overloaded lumber yards and home improvement stores with orders. Something as common as sheetrock became a backordered item that didn’t appear until April. Eventually, and slowly, the contractor healed Charles’s damaged home.

Last night, Charles called to chat about the freezing temperatures that aim our way again. His joked that his new tile floors can handle any water that may come his way!

Saturday, January 1, 2022

“A Year in Review: January”

Red Oak in January 2021

My last blog post, written almost a year ago to this date, recounted the events on the attack on the Capitol in real time. Since that time, my fingers hovered unsuccessfully over the keyboard multiple times. I had so much to say. And yet, nothing came to the page. My brain downshifted into some kind of “wait” mode. Until today—My New Year starts with a longing to reflect on 2021 and to encapsulate events, thoughts, and feelings month-by-month.

Maybe I can salvage some perspective by attending to all of those little things that make life difficult, but rewarding. I can take time to find gratitude that we could pay cash to help my brother when his car broke down again last January. I can appreciate that I shifted to a slower pace for each day—gardening, reading, and crafting. I can feel pride that our continued vigilance against getting sick with COVID-19 meant that our health wasn’t compromised.

The losses from last January weigh me down to this date. I stepped away from friends and family members who continue, even today, to defend the insurrectionists who attacked the Capitol. My grieving continues because they cling to this false narrative that I cannot understand or excuse. My sorrow entwines with my reexamination of what drew me into these relationships to begin with. Have I changed so much, or have they? Did we form our bonds, and weave them together, over common life events years ago, but drifted so slowly away from each other that I never noticed the tension on our ties until the break became irreparable?

Wednesday, January 6, 2021

“Heartbreak and Horror”

  Right now, my throat tightens to fight back tears as today’s events play out. Only it isn’t some kind of game. It isn’t a distant country. It isn’t someone else’s home or problem.
  This reality is our problem caused by angry, gutless people who cultishly defended a sociopath. He twisted and manipulated with ease all of the weakest points within our society. He and his enablers stoked the discontent of racists and misogynists and fanned their smoldering embers of distrust into flames of “righteous” outrage. He had no substance. He relied on smoke and mirrors—magic tricks that never hold up in the light of day.
  In horror, I watch the evacuation of members of the House and Senate. I listen, dumbstruck, as reports come through that key people responsible for the function of our government have been swept away to safety. A woman, trying to break into one of the chambers holding congressmen, was shot. I celebrate her death. Consequences are a bitch.
  There’s no control over the Capitol right now because we have no leadership. We have a want-to-be dictator. The full measures of our legal system need to come after Trump, all of his enablers, the followers. White House officials huddle in their offices and wait for Trump to give a longer, stronger statement than a few inept tweets.
  Biden, the President Elect, supplies a need our resident narcissist cannot fulfill. Biden renounces the insurrection and rejects the selfish interests of the anarchy and chaos spawned by Trump’s insistence that our election was fraud-filled. His call for Trump to step up will set a tone for Trump to stop the siege. “The words of a President matter.”
  However, we all know that Trump is incapable of doing what is best for anyone but himself. Instead of showing leadership, he posts a short Twitter video that continues his lies about a “landslide election” that was “stolen” and although the election was taken away from him, his followers, and the country, they should “go home in peace.” He doesn’t denounce the mob rule that spews throughout D.C. screaming, “This is Civil War!” An unstable despot-wannabe grabs hold of conspiracy theories, making them true and real while undermining evidence and data by shouting louder than anyone else, “Fake!”

  The optimist in me stays glued to our reconvened Congress’s speeches, and the heartbreak weighs heavily on me. Some determined words bring me hope. I listen for those who will change the horror of today into honor for tomorrow.

Frozen in place?

Sunday, January 3, 2021

"Falling for Fall"

The leaves burn against a white sky, shivering as autumn sneaks into central Texas. I watch and wait for that perfect day when the red oak’s foliage pulses with one last burst of color before turning brown, floating down to blanket our yard against winter’s frosts. My lens captures the last blossoms of fall’s false spring. Frozen in each frame Nature’s decline.