Well I had a Plan, But....

I had planned to build my first of several raised bed vegetable gardens today, but that's not how today went.

Today was the Last Day (capitalized on purpose) to get what we needed before truly holing up for good. I thought surely I'd have a few minutes today to run to Home Depot and grab some vegetables and soil to add to my compost and plant my garden because really who knows how long this thing is going to last?

It just didn't go that way.

Today was our first day of school following Spring Break, and I loved seeing all of my teachers interacting with our kids online in their virtual classrooms. Students were asking for more work, something to do, asking how their teachers were, and sharing what things were like and how they were feeling.

Broke my heart in the best way.

I sent kids links to online museums and public library websites, artists and chefs and authors sharing their thinking because what better way to understand author's craft than to hear it straight from the author?

I'm committed to showing the things I'm invested in doing to spark ideas, encourage anyone needing encouragement, and showing how we can use this experience to grow our skills and interests in positive ways. But I also feel like it's worth validating how overwhelmingly unreal this all feels to me.

Is it me or does anyone else feel like we are attending the wedding of The Grapes of Wrath and Twisted Sister presided over by none other than Isaac Asimov?

I made one last trip to Whole Foods yesterday because my daughter is vegan and, after surveying our pantry, I realized she wouldn't make it through two weeks of quarantine with out a few more options. I LOVE going to the grocery store, mostly because I am a food nut! I walked through the store kind of lost, wondering what I should get. The store posted limitation signs on items like nut butters, canned vegetables, grains, and other staples to avoid shortages like that of toilet paper. I have never cried over a can of tomatoes, but this was the last straw. Two cans of stewed tomatoes remained, exactly what I needed to make the double batch of stew I'd planned to make and freeze--just in case.

It was just too much. The tears just came. In the middle of the canned tomatoes. The reality of the unknown days ahead overwhelmed me in that moment. I just felt so sad that in such a short period of time, our entire way of life was completely foreign. I'd dealt with my kids who were irritable (understandably so), those closest to me who I could see from the safety of six feet away but not hug or comfort. The impending isolation became very real in that moment.

I'm not going to spend much time being all victim-y, but I do think it's worth taking a minute, giving ourselves the space and freedom, to feel the heaviness of our world right now. Some things we can't change, but some things we can.

We can stay home.

We can put sight words in our front windows so the kindergarteners can practice them on walks. We can ask our neighbors how they are from our side of the street. We can encourage everyone we influence and we can pray for mercy.

Tomorrow I am doing yoga and planting one of my gardens. That means it's happening. Sleep well, friends.