ON DIGITAL DETRITUS, SYRUP POURED FROM THE SKIES, AND THE PLEASURE OF SAYING I DON'T LIVE THERE ANYMORE
Friday February 12 2021
Dear Sarah,
I am so curious to hear how you are this week. How has your adventure in communal living been unfolding? Are you allowed to write about it while you are living it? Blink once if you are safe and comfortable, blink twice if you need me to send an evacuation team.
I went to bed last Friday delightfully relaxed, and on Saturday morning I awoke (not even that late, mind you) to eight missed calls; my father had been sent to the hospital after a fall and with a fever. He was in the hospital until Thursday afternoon (!) and it was a very, very long week. He seems to be doing all right. Many tests were done, a few bits of useful information were gathered, and I feel that I’ve aged (more than the obvious week that I would have aged since we last wrote).
Something I thought about this week even as I neglected to think about it: the way that eating wisely and staying hydrated plays such a significant role in mood, it is almost ridiculous. I had a particularly awful day on Thursday as the weight of the week started to pull down on me from every angle. I put off lunch (unwisely) waiting to have a work phone call with someone else who was eating their lunch (why didn’t I take that opportunity to eat my lunch?) and then I set about completing a time-sensitive task (still no lunch in my belly) at which point my brain was humming in a way that was not like the pleasant hum of a functional machine, but rather like a machine that is buzzing, static, instead of doing what it is actually supposed to be doing; the gears were stuck. Finally around 3 or 4PM I ate lunch, took a late-in-the-day shower, drank some strong tea, ate some chocolate truffles, and was back as right as rain by about 5 or 6 PM. (I don’t recall right now if I’ve ever mentioned it, but I often despise the hours from about 1:30PM to 3:30PM or so — these (regular day) post-lunch hours are the worst for me. I don’t think I’m alone, but it feels like more than just a desire to take a nap. Early afternoons make me dislike everything I’ve ever done and ever will do, make me want to apologize via awkward email for every slight misstep I’ve ever taken and have now dredged up from the depths, make me want to scrap it all and disappear from town. They are like the waking image of the bad thoughts for which 3AM is known. The early afternoon would typically be an excellent time to take a walk, but…)
I am reflecting on your letter of last week and your sharing of Katherine May’s book Wintering. This feels right up my alley these days. We have been living in negative temps this past week or so and it has been a bad week not to be able to go running. There were a couple of days in there where I saw a single nutty bold person running outside, but I think my threshold for an outside run right now is at least 10 degrees. Back in the midwest after years away, I am constantly amazed at how the same physical place can be well below zero and frigid in the month of February, and green and warm — perhaps as much as 80 or 90 degrees warmer — in the month of June or July. I’m looking forward to the time of clear sidewalks and streets, looking forward to getting back to running (this will happen within the next week, thankfully), looking forward to putting on fewer articles of clothing to go outside! While we’ve held off running this week, M and I have gone out walking a couple of times, just the rectangle of space around our eyes showing, and even that being a risky proposition as eyelashes gather liquid and start to freeze up. We’ve entertained the idea of acquiring goggles, though we haven’t yet gone through with it.
This week M and I got a text from M’s sister, a two-part message: our niece had just learned that Prince was no longer alive; and a photo of our poor niece sobbing with the weight of the knowledge. It took her a while to come down from that, and my mother-in-law wisely intuited that it was probably more than just the knowledge of Prince’s death that was hitting her hard; perhaps she was feeling the extraordinariness of these weird days and months (almost years) in ways that hadn’t fully found an outlet of expression until now. I felt very much on her page this week. And also, it’s still a tragedy that Prince is dead.
My woodblock printmaking class this week was everything I’d hoped it would be, and a welcome reprieve from all that the week was bringing by Tuesday evening. In keeping with your infamous act of showing me my birthday card — an act which, I will report, I treasure more fondly than I ever would have treasured an actual birthday card deposited into my hot little hands — perhaps I will show you a picture of my woodblock print! Coming your way soon(ish)!
Something else that happened this week: I got a bunch of new tech! Big week! I got a new phone, after six years with my last phone. I got a large new secondary monitor for my laptop, which has made my writing environment much more comfortable (it’s like working on a television). And I also got some bluetooth earbuds that I have not yet used, to accompany my new phone, in which the headphone jack has been phased out. M is my tech procurement officer and he has done an admirable job this past week (he was primarily focused on the monitor and headphones, with backup support on the phone, since he drove me to the store to pick it up). Oh, and after nearly two decades with my free google drive account I finally caved and purchased more storage for $20 a year. For some reason it had felt forever like something I didn’t want to pay money for, and suddenly I didn’t want to think another minute about which items I should delete from my email or drive in order to stay below the free threshold. Now I think I may have enough storage space to acquire digital things for at least a few more decades! (Which will last longer: me, or these patterns we have developed of acquiring digital detritus?) As I got to know my new phone I realized I had immediately mentally detached from the apps I had previously used; I hardly cared which ones came with me. It was like an environment I’d moved away from; I don’t live there anymore. I haven’t put social media accounts on my new phone yet. I am still using my old phone to log my billable hours at the moment (it appears that what was once a free timekeeping app is now a paid app in the brave new world of my new phone) and I have seen some social media alerts floating up in that old-phone interface. It makes me feel like social media belongs to a past me, just like my old phone belongs to a past me. Perhaps this feeling will wear off shortly, perhaps not. I kind of like the feel of saying, I just don’t live there anymore.
This letter is much longer than I thought I would have steam for (that’s what dinner will do for you!) and it’s time to send it off to you unless I want to shoulder the friendly burden of posting our letters this week! Very happy Friday, happy weekend, happy Valentine’s Day to you and yours! Looking forward to reading your words and catching up with you on the page, and looking forward to talking when we do!
Until soon!
Eva
February 12, 2021
Dear Eva,
I am sitting in an empty upstairs bedroom in a mostly empty house in the Ozarks on a Friday evening while our kids do Movie Night with their new might-as-well-be-siblings downstairs. This has been a very strange week, and I know that is a common refrain here in these letters, but I’m serious this time! As you know, we arrived here late Friday night one week ago, meeting our friends from Chicago with two similarly-aged kids. We spent the weekend getting settled in and enjoying the honeymoon period between our respective children. At bedtime the night after our first full day, Simon said, “I am so excited for tomorrow,” seemingly unaware that every tomorrow for 27 more days would be largely the same. We are now 7 days in, and I think a dose of reality has set in for all of us. To be fair, we have been unusually sequestered this first week. The polar vortex across middle America hit here, too, so instead of the mild 40s, we are experiencing the high teens and, more significantly, a sheet of ice smothering the cars and roads like syrup poured from the skies. For a couple of days this week, we were completely stuck in the house. The house we are staying in is on a huge hill, and the drive to the main road is pure ice. To let the dogs relieve themselves, we would slide outside gripping the porch railing like our lives depended on it. Even so, I think all of us have now fallen on the ice at least once.
To add a bit more spice to the mix, we have also discovered a mouse in the house. He/she has been spotted twice now, though we haven’t caught the little critter in our traps overnight after three nights running.
I am painting quie a picture of our “vacation” retreat, I know. But on the whole, it is thus far quite a delight to be living with other humans, cooking and eating meals together, reading bedtime stories to all four kids huddled together on the couch, watching movies on a Tuesday, and venturing out for icy hikes with at least one child inevitably whining about the cold and/or the hills. As nice as the quarantine quiet has been at times during this pandemic, we have missed our friends. It feels like we are getting a massive infusion of all of the social nutrients we have been lacking all these months. Let’s hope it will be enough to last us for a few more pandemic months when we return.
I was excited to hear about your intellectual breakthrough last week, where you felt like you excavated something new to inform your thinking and writing in your work-work. I am envious! In my own work, I feel lately like my goal is just to wade through the onslaught and call it a success if I can emerge from a day without feeling like a deflated balloon. I need to listen to your yoga teacher and try to give myself a pat on the back just for showing up. My first priority lately is not to solve any problems or try to “fix,” but to remain true to my values and who I want to be as a colleague. This prioritization is extremely clarifying! Rather than fussing about what will “work,” I can just focus on what will feel right, particularly when I’m thinking back on how I was during this tumultuous time in my workplace and in the world.
I am curious to hear how you have eased yourselves out of Dry January and into the new month. I know you had a drink or two last Friday, but where have you landed with your new normal? After a couple of drinks last weekend, I went back to tea and flavored sparkling water during the week. It’s on my mind now because I am currently enjoying that luxurious slowing that follows a single beer started on an empty stomach. You are right that it is pleasant to feel alcohol gently flowing into [the] bloodstream! But it has also been strangely satisfying to forego drinks during this patch of time. Among other things, I lost five pounds just like that. Poof! I hadn’t realized just how much more likely I was to scrounge through the cupboards for salty snacks in the late evening after a beer.
Enough with the diet and drinking chatter! I think it sounds like the movie downstairs is winding down, so I will head down to shepherd the kids to their beds and settle into a game or movie with our buds. I know you have had a trying week, and I am anxious to read your letter and hear what is on your mind. I am also anxious to find a time to talk with our mouths and ears next week! It feels like forever.
I hope you can enjoy a lovely long weekend without too much of a chill. I just looked up the Minneapolis temps—brrr! Stay warm and cozy, my friend!
Until soon,
Sarah