Memoirous

I was confused about where to start. November 5 th was my birthday and as we all know it has been chaotic. It is hard to think back over the year. I mean sooooo much has happened. Friendships have unraveled; there have been breaks and new alliances formed. With the advent of the pandemic there have been life-altering decisions. This much I know: it is impossible to know. I’ve stopped saying anything is for sure.  So after working as an election judge on Nov. 3 rd and making it through a long day of possible Covid exposure and in general a long day of work, I decided to reward myself by signing up for a writing craft class through OCWW. It was a breath of fresh air, reminding me of my “old” life—BUT, chaos broke through. I got a text that someone I knew had tested positive for Covid. I immediately was thrown in quarantine.  Even the person dropping off a present at my door had to hurry away as she was also exposed to this same person. We were caught up in a Covid dragne...

 I can’t begin to describe how much I hate 2020. Suffice it to say it has been difficult. I’m constantly on the lookout for wellness solutions. I rode my bike 2,500 miles to the West Coast. I bought a Britta water pitcher. I either run or take an hour-long walk, getting outside daily. I don’t hesitate to eat ice cream. I’m intentional about scheduling calls with friends to catch up, sending cards and letters. Yet nothing can dispel this unease with myself and my life. Part of it is a lack of routine. At least when I was on my epic bike ride I knew what my job was each day: to get somewhere, to pedal and make miles. There was never a problem with motivation; I had a purpose. Since returning home I’m left with discovering what I need to be about. Even writing feels like tossed salad, words chopped and mixed up, trying to find meaning. What feels good? Standing yesterday at the edge of the sand and watching the water wash in. There was a duck on a raft of tree corp...

From the Corona Files I should have had a premonition about 2020. Not everything can be blamed on the virus—2020 by all accounts was already shaping up to be a stinker. So many foundational, rock-solid, salt-of-the-earth type stuff was liquefying, falling away, proving to be dust in the wind. Here is a small list: Boy Scouts Jean Vanier the Methodist Church for that matter all churches add to that the people in them The disappointment has certainly been building through the years. And, it’s nothing new: I recognized hypocrisy in the church when I was in my 20s. But, there had been a LOT of good also. I’d met caring concerned people as well as the jerks that have always been there. The genuine and authentic always seemed to outnumber the people who ruin it for everyone. Then there came a tipping point. At least I could trust Jean Vanier, winner of the Templeton Award for Humanitarian service, someone who had devoted his life to the “least of these.” The...

2020 Goals: *Get the critique group back together *Keep submitting those pieces *Find an agent *All those manuscripts find a home *Ride my bike to Kingdom Come *Make new friends *Lose weight (hahahahaha) *Finish my cross-stitch project