The Case of the Curious Spring

Being a social outcast has never been so cool… and isn’t likely to ever be again.

This spring, life quickly turned topsy-turvy in a way most of us didn’t realize was possible. Reflecting now on the last few months seems somewhat premature since the COVID situation is still in flux and the outcome is yet unknown. However, just going over the range of what has happened so far feels like a monumental task. Hence, I wanted to tackle this topic before a 25-page essay becomes necessary.

I’m still digesting this affair with the rest of the world. In another year, decade, or century perhaps we will fully understand the lasting legacy of this pandemic and what we should have done differently. Until then, here’s a bit of my limited perspective.

March

March is supposed to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. Instead, it felt like one of those rollercoasters that starts out slow and then, next thing you know, the ground just ceases to be under you. It was a month of disruption and isolation where plans vaporized as if hit by a phaser on maximum. The roads and parks became silent and eerie while panic gripped communities. As the death count in the US rocketed and businesses suffered, many Americans fought over toilet paper and placing blame instead of coming together to hinder this microscopic foe.

Like most of you, Jason and I became lost in the pace of change. The month preceding the onset of social distancing was particularly busy for us, so much so that Jason determined we needed to cut out some of our routine activities. Be careful what you wish for my boy! From that eventfulness, we dropped off the quarantine cliff, and suddenly nothing was going on. At first, every day seemed exactly the same as we struggled to adjust.

After the initial shock of speedy isolation wore off, Jason and I started figuring out ways to make isolation less isolating. Within the first month of seclusion, we had 11 virtual board game nights with different sets of friends over Google Hangouts. In our peak week, we had four virtual game nights on consecutive evenings. That proved too much for my eyes. These games were made possible by the resourcefulness of Jason. He rigged some of my photography equipment to hold a cell phone over the game board for a board view. To date, we’ve successfully played Pandemic, King of Tokyo, Splendor, Pandemic Legacy, and Wits & Wagers this way.

King of Tokyo
I organized two virtual game tournaments for my family.

I initiated virtual King of Tokyo and Splendor tournaments with my family using the above-mentioned method. I was pronounced King of Tokyo, while my brother was declared the winner of Isolated Splendor. Later, an online Dominion tournament ensued, which was won by a nephew. The matches were more intense than expected, especially Splendor. Missing the competitive exhilaration provided by sporting events? Set up virtual game nights for all your cutthroat needs!

virtual victors
You can’t be a legitimate champion without a trophy.

Jason and I also introduced virtual movie nights to my family. We’d all watch a prearranged film at a specific time in our respective locations and get online to discuss the flick afterward. This was a weekly tradition for a couple months.

Beyond getting some screen time with real people to reassure us we weren’t the only ones left on the planet, Jason and I kept sane by taking walks almost every evening, often as soon as the workday was over. Sanity was also gained by nearly daily workouts. I’ve got strapping arm muscles (relatively speaking) thanks to my regular stints on the arm bike; I call these my COVID arms. It was easy to make time for exercise in the absence of everything else.

Having interesting projects helped break up the monotony too. Since I wasn’t taking new pictures, I was able to catch up on editing photos from a few years ago. I commenced some sewing projects for Regency accessories. Additionally, I started planting a forest of succulents, an undertaking I anticipated and bought supplies for before the shutdown. I also took advantage of internet learning opportunities. Online ukulele lessons, photography classes, and cosmetic chemistry courses all kept my brain engaged. Thank goodness for technology!

plant presents
This was my first batch of succulents. I gave them all away.
several succulents
This was round two of my succulent mania/therapy. I’m about to plant round three.

Any day that was warm enough, I spent on my laptop in the backyard. This change of setting from the study to the patio mollified my mind considerably. On a few Saturdays, Jason and I legitimately got outdoors by snowshoeing up the slopes of Alta Ski Resort and then snowboarding down them.

gaining elevation at Alta
Jason and I were disappointed the end of the boarding season dissolved due to COVID, but we made this happen.
potholed powder
By the last time we went to Alta in mid-May, the snow had melted into countless crevasses.

And how was and is working from home working? Jason and I get along exceptionally well. Even after being compacted together 24-7 for months, we still adore each other. Transitioning to working from home was pretty easy for us. The hardest thing was Jason’s loud phone conversations and video chats. I’m pretty sure talking to people in meetings and out of meetings is 99% of what he does. I just escape to another floor, or better yet the backyard, when he’s being a chatty Cathy, and all remains good.

May

After two months of social distance, new routines seemed more normal. By the end of April, I had fallen into a productive pattern split between working inside in the morning and outside in the afternoon. The evenings mostly involved walks, cleaning, and exercise. A clear distinction emerged between weekdays and weekends as we grew more accustomed to our altered habits.

We also found a way to get “out” thanks to a local theater creatively transforming their parking lot into a drive-in, which started screening classics like The Goonies, The Bourne Identity, and Back to the Future Part II.

Jason and I launched “distant” lunches to allow for in-person contact. Basically, we realized we could meet up with friends at a park and easily maintain social distance. These lunches continue to be a source of unattached interaction for us. Everyone brings a chair and a meal, and we see each other with our eyeballs. We even did a distant picnic for a family Mother’s Day gathering.

As social obligations began to creep in again, in a limited fashion of course, I noticed they were a bit distracting. While I was ecstatic about seeing people on more than one occasion, the checkoffs on my to-do list declined as did my focus, which made me feel a little overwhelmed. After weeks with almost none of life’s normal interferences, it seemed unnatural to have them return. I missed feeling like there was plenty of time and reason to take long walks with Jason on nearly a daily basis.

Horsetail Falls Trail
Hiking has been another sanity booster for us. Horsetail Falls was one such trek.

June

I think I have acclimated to the new, new normal for now, which is a mix of nothing and something. The staggering lack of focus I felt a month ago has dissipated. I’m not sure where next month and the months after will take me and us as a country, but I hope we will navigate through them wisely.

With about 120,000 deaths in the United States from COVID-19 to date and a surge imminent in Utah, this virus continues to change and shape our attention and daily routines. Amidst the anxiety and turmoil, may we be safe. May we be sane. May we be considerate. May we be rational. May we be responsible. May we be compassionate. We are all in this together from the elderly lady living next door to the small business owner down the street, so let’s help each other and go easy on the judgement. That is my wish for all of you and for myself.

I can’t help but wonder if after all this is over, we as a nation and as a world will be a little depressed instead of elated. That may sound like nonsense. The thing is, when normalcy returns, we may remember that normal wasn’t perfect. The same problems we had before all of this will still be there. Needing to just get through the next few months is less intimidating than needing to get through the next 30 to 50 years. Plus, as engulfing as COVID feels at the moment, there will be other urgent crises. May our perseverance outlast this virus and make us more resilient to all that lies ahead. That is my final wish for this post and all those that read it.

Regular and Regency Romance

Valentine’s Day approaches quickly after Christmas. Some would be satisfied if it were stalled indefinitely. I’m not one to lament any chance to spoil my magnificent hubby, but, admittedly, coming up with new thoughtful gift ideas just 42 days after Santa’s all-nighter can be tough. This year, it was also my turn to plan our festivities. Fortunately, I never run out of schemes for extravagant means of pampering Jason through experiences. That part of Valentine’s Day was a piece of mocha lava cake.

mocha lava cake
Seeing as it was my first attempt at all the recipes I made, I was expecting at least one to turn out less than ideally. Surprisingly, they all were delectable.

Instead of going out to dinner, I decided to cook a fancy meal comprised of citrus salad with thyme vinaigrette, roasted garlic pull-apart cheese bread, steaks with wasabi cream sauce, and mocha lava cakes. I intended to spend the whole day working on this fine supper. However, due to a family emergency, I ran out of time to make the entire menu. I had to skip one item; I decided to omit the salad and make all the cheesy, creamy, chocolatey selections. What does that say about me? As the chef I might be biased, but I think everything turned out quite agreeably. Interested in these recipes? They are Ree Drummond originals, and I’d recommend all of them.

So hot for 1800!
In the Regency period, fashion shifted to be more natural and mobile. Thank goodness!

The following day, we went to the Regency Romance Ball, an event we had been unable to attend for a couple years due to travel engagements. The night proceeded fairly predictably. My hairdo required dozens of bobby pins, and I danced until my toe bled. (Yup, that happened.) Awards for the best dressed are given at this affair via voting cards handed out by attendees to other attendees. Those who accumulate the most cards in each category win. We received three of these as a couple. Jason got three individually, and I got five. That may sound impressive until you consider the winners ended up with 40 or 50 apiece. You are completely underwhelmed now, right?

I’m going to claim Valentine’s Day success… minus a salad we enjoyed one day late. I didn’t get Jason flowers and a box from Tiffany’s, but I made him some scrummy food and forced him to dance with me in a cravat and waistcoat… close enough.

Sundance 2020

As has been our habit for the last 13 or 14 years, Jason and I attended the Sundance Film Festival again this January. Due to some travel conflicts, we were only able to go to four screenings, less than our norm. However, the heterogeneousness of those four flicks represented Sundance’s diversity well as did our assorted company. Hence, I’d place 2020 solidly amongst our top dozen years at the festival. The best 85% looks something like this.

Worth a line?
Line time is part of Sundance. Line friends make line time more fun.

Our first screening was for the premier of Worth. Although not a documentary, Worth proved informative. It portrays the obstacles of Ken Feinberg, the impartial lawyer who headed the September 11th Victim Compensation Fund. Feinberg’s struggle to determine the value of a life by balancing the equation of economics with humanity makes this a thought-provoking picture. Sara Colangelo, the film’s director, provided answers to the crowd’s wide-ranging questions after the screening. To date, no distributor has purchased this movie. It seems like it could be worth the investment. (Yes, pun purposefully and shamelessly placed.)

Rebuilding Paradise
The Q&A for Rebuilding Paradise included a large group of crew and subjects.

Our second film was Rebuilding Paradise. Rebuilding Paradise is a documentary directed by Ron Howard about the Camp Fire, the deadliest wildfire in the United States during the last century. In November of 2018, it destroyed nearly 19,000 structures and killed over 80 people with most of that destruction occurring within its first four hours. Although those statistics are harrowing, the footages from the blaze itself and its aftermath are shocking. To be honest, I didn’t know much about the details of the Camp Fire before watching this film. I learned that 95% of the city of Paradise was destroyed. Can you imagine your home and your entire community melting into ashes in a matter of hours? Ron was not able to be present at the Q&A as he was shooting another film, but a large portion of his crew and a number of the Paradise townsfolk attended.

Nearly photo worthy?
Hold back the paparazzi!

The third film we saw was The Reason I Jump, a documentary about the experience of having nonverbal autism. It highlights a handful of amazing young people while sharing excerpts from the book by the same title, which was eloquently written by a 13-year-old Japanese boy with autism named Naoki Higashida. Since I have witnessed firsthand the communication frustrations endured by those with autism, I found this film absorbing and enlightening. I appreciated its articulate reminder that those who do not speak still have something to say. After the screening, a Q&A featured director Jerry Rothwell, crew members, and some of the documentary’s subjects. This film won the audience award in the World Cinema Documentary Competition, mostly due to my vote of course.

Save Yourselves!
This year, all our screenings included Q&A sessions.

The last show we attended was Save Yourselves! This hilarious movie is equal parts B-grade horror, social commentary, and unhinged comedy. If alien poufs took over the world while you were taking a technology break in the woods with your significant other, offbeat situations would naturally ensue. So, part documentary also? We chortled, we ewwed, and we chortled some more. A Q&A with the writer-directors Eleanor Wilson and Alex Huston Fischer also proved quite entertaining.

The Sundance Film Festival is always packed with the unexpected. This year, it was equally full of Q&As and comrades. All our screenings were followed by a Q&A; 100% isn’t typical for that statistic. We visited with friends in line, watched some great cinema, learned more about our world through deep subject dives, and interacted with filmmakers. That’s why 2020 is in the upper 85% for sure.