"There it Is"

July approaches.

And I don't know what that means.

Any other year, it would mean the family at scout camp, me at home working and preparing for their weekend returns.

This year, an organized chaos. That's maybe a way to put it.

We're all home. Not really going anywhere. Trying to stay busy but at times getting on each others' nerves.

I've written about the bathroom. That project, I think, was a godsend. It kept me busy during a time when work really wasn't. It came at a good time, and it looks great.

Things are different now. Still at home, but busier. Two eight-hour days at work last week. And that felt really hard. I know it shouldn't, because I've been doing four ten-hour days a week up until the end of March. And maybe if I can get back to that, it'll feel like a break.

My prediction: One more week of working at home, then after the Fourth of July next Saturday, I'm back to work, out at the Site, full time. And that won't be bad. It'll be different.

I think we're all feeling a bit of stress.

Michelle and Lexie are going to a merit badge scramble at Krupp Scout Hollow starting Monday. Because of Covid, they're taking the camper so they don't have to use public toilets. But that's meant getting the camper ready. Again. Oh, I'd love to get rid of the thing. I have one house to maintain; I don't need two. But we're getting it ready and it'll be okay. That's what I have to remind myself.

Working at home isn't relaxing. Oh, it was at first. Not any longer.

Part of it is setting, I'm sure. I do get a fair amount of stress in my job from time to time. But by the time I'm done with the hour and a half commute, the stress has mostly dissolved and I'm home and things are easier. Now, there's no commute, and the stress is here where I am trying to de-stress. That's not a healthy combination. It's part of what chased me out of journalism. So as much as I have enjoyed the time at home, it's time for it to end.

I think part of the problem is that I haven't been able to move on to another summer project, which really relaxes me, or at least gives me focus for the time being. I did get the little bit of fence done, but I've stalled staining it  I have the stain to finish, but now it's been raining.

Part of this also is the typical Sunday Doldrums, where whatever weird little depression we Davidsons gets really settles in.

I need this virus to go away. It seems to be the background to everything that we do. Don't take any pandemic-free life for granted, that's my lesson now.

The thing is, nil desperandum.



which of course makes Doldrums Me laugh cynically.

I understand better now, Dad. I understand.

Checking In

It’s been a while since I wrote about life, the coronavirus, and that blasted bathroom remodel. So here goes.

BATHROOM: It is done. We have officially begun using it. Aside from one little glitch with a towel bar that fell down, it’s in great shape. We even like the oval mirror over the square one, and it’s big enough that we can both use it (the fear was with a smaller mirror, it would have to be hung in a way that would cut the top of my head off, but not so). It is a relief to have that project buttoned up officially.

That means, of course, moving on to another project. I had intended for the other project to be the siding, but the youngest son sidetracked us with taking the wainscot out of his bedroom and painting the walls. He had a yellow and orange motif going. Now it’s white and blood red. Can’t say they’re the colors I’d pick but it’s not my room.

This does mean more than painting – there’s been some drywall repair and plastering too, what with the removal of the wainscot. But that’s fine. It was just a strip of trim on the wall, drywall below and above. I think there used to be wallpaper below. Glad that’s gone.

CORONAVIRUS: Restrictions are lifting, but the virus, of course, is still here. We’ve seen a moderate spike in cases since restrictions started being lifted. So we’re being careful. We’re wearing masks, still not going to church, and avoiding large gatherings. Well, Isaac and Michelle did to go to an Order of the Arrow event a few weeks ago and one of the wingnuts there arrived with a fever but convinced the organizers she could stay. So we’ve got those types out there. So far, so good for us. We are meeting as a Scout troop again, but as we’re doing the Cycling merit badge, we’ve been able to do everything outdoors, which helps a lot.

I’m still working from home, and likely will be into July, or so I surmise from the last bit of information I’ve been given. With more people being brought back to work, though, the amount of work I’m doing at home is going up. Not complaining, just thinking it through. Part of me is ready to go back, but with the “masks all the time everywhere” protocols they’re asking us to follow out there, I’m not that anxious to go. Working from home has been nice, with lots more time free in the evenings, since I’m not doing that commute. I may see if they’ll let me telecommute on Mondays, so I can be home in time for our Scout meetings. I’ve been working in town on Mondays for that, so this wouldn’t be that big of a change for them.

LIFE: We’re into our second day of rainy weather. It should end today, but it has meant for a lot of gloom outside, and not much getting done with the garden or other outdoor projects.

I’ve been fighting more feelings of depression lately. Really came to a head a few weeks ago when I was feeling overwhelmed with the English class I’m teaching at BYUI. Had student conferences coming, and I just couldn’t do them. I really did try, but when it came to doing them, I just felt stressed and alone. So they didn’t happen, except via email. Not the way I want to do things, but something had to give that week, and that was it. I think part of it is that by this time of the year, I’m used to being home mostly alone, with everyone else at camp. With the virus this year, no summer camps. So there’s a lot more bodies mooning about the house and I’m out of my quiet routine. I seemed to have a lot of time when they were gone. Not so much with them here. Not that I don’t love them. It’s just that there are a lot more needs and requests and such when we’re all piled into the same house.

GOOD STUFF THAT HAS HAPPENED:

1. The DI reopened, so the pile of stuff we had in the garage is gone.
2. Speaking of stuff in the garage being gone:
a. Liam finally got his room clean enough we could move his filing cabinet up there. More than a year after it entered the garage.
b. A lot of camping gear has been labeled and stowed. More to do, but making progress.
3. Speaking of stuff in the garage being DISCOVERED. Months ago, I misplaced some pots and other camping gear. Figured it had stayed behind at one of our spots. But in shuffling things around, I found the box they were in.

Remember the Words

"First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out— because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me."

These are the words of Martin Niemoeller, a Protestant minister and vocal critic of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party.

I often hear his words used when a crisis arises and people are being called to action -- and it's aimed mostly at those who aren't making waves.

Strong sentiment in these words.

And I believe them.

But consider: Niemoeller wrote them in part to expiate for his own antisemitism.

Yes, Niemoeller had antisemitic feelings, by his own admittance.

No, he was not a perfect man.

Remember that when you want to erase the legacies of other imperfect people.

More importantly, remember his words.

And be careful where you draw lines. You may find yourself on the other side of those lines one of these days.

The Beginning of Something

When I was a much younger man, I could sit and stare at a fire for hours. When the wind is calm and the summer noises are almost gone so you can hear the crickets and bullfrogs. When the sun has set but still won't let but the brightest stars shine; when the moon still lies abed below the horizon.

Then I could watch the flames wrap and tickle and the sparks shoot and the damp wood hiss and the embers, the tender embers, flooding the underbelly of the flames with the promise of long, low, sustainable heat.

I can't sit and watch the flames now for more than a few minutes. The flames pall. The embers no longer dance. Damp wood aflame no longer smells like the promise of a new tomorrow. And the smoke, the smoke is always in my eyes.

For an ordinary man, a midlife crisis.

For a pyromaniac, maybe a sign to switch careers.