The Corona Chronicles, Day Five

Real talk.

Today was kind of yucky. It's pouring outside. I worked from home and found myself getting stuck on some of the projects I have to work on. And while I have absolutely nowhere to go and every opportunity to get in my car and drive right away from my house, it feels like I'm stuck. I told Trey that we may have to make a trip to Lowe's this weekend for paint. Perhaps every room in our house needs a paint job (except the living room because it's been recently painted).

We're up to six confirmed cases in the Brazos Valley, and one of them was contracted locally. So there's that.

Because gatherings of more than ten people are discouraged or banned or frowned upon or something, there are major life events that cannot occur. Weddings and funerals - opposites in so many ways but nonetheless cancelled or not planned like one would really like. I don't have one of those in my realm of connection, but so many people do. It makes me sad.

Cancelled. I don't think I've ever heard or said that word so much in my whole life.

Soooooo...

(insert segue here)

It occurred to me today that it's easy to be supportive and nice to each other on day five of this business. My gut tells me that day ten will be a tiny bit harder for society at large and some of us as individuals. Since we really don't know when this will end, we need to decide every day that we will not complain about how someone else is doing their thing or feel sorry for ourselves. We've got this. 

We need reasons to smile and things to laugh about and such. We need silly facebook surveys and practical jokes and memes. The memes. Yall. They are killing me!  We send them through family texts all day and I love it! Also, I hope you follow El Arroyo and Ellen on Insta because they are happy entertainment.

Random things about today:
1) I'm cooking a pork rib roast for dinner. I've never cooked this cut of meat before, but it's what HEB had so it's what we're eating. I cooked it all afternoon in the sous vide, and I'm about to slather it with garlic and rosemary compound butter and finish it in the oven. It's either going to be fantastic or horrible. I suppose we'll see.

2) I cleaned out four junk drawers today. It seems that while I am not a person who likes clutter or keeps too many things, I apparently hoard cords.

*time out*
The oven beeped and I had to slather an entire stick of compound butter on a roast. I'll likely have butter under my fingernails for the foreseeable future even with the corona-hand-scrubbing we're all doing every half hour.
*time in*

Anyway, if you need to connect your Walkman to your car stereo in your 1975 Plymouth, hit me up. I've got a cord for that. And as of today it's neatly wound and placed in a labeled ziploc.

3) I've discovered something amazing. Trey went to the store sometime last week, and when they didn't have regular Oreos he bought Trolls Oreos. This is surprising because when it comes to Oreos the man is purist. Regular double stuffed only or you're doing it wrong.

But, pandemic. Desperate Oreo times.

Trolls Oreos have POP ROCKS in the them. POP ROCKS!!!  Like, from when we were little kids!  They are delightful!  You get to enjoy the Oreo and feel the popping candies and think you've just ridden your bike to the Mini Mart in Rice, Texas (maybe that's just me).

Anyway, delightful. Get you some.

Today's writing prompt from my fancy book is: Everyone has a special talent. What's your special skill?

My special skill is knowing the words to all of the country songs since ever. I know the old ones from my granddad, the less old ones from my mother, the not very old ones from my childhood, and the new ones because I'm still cool. If Jeopardy had a country music episode, I would win.

The end.

The Corona Chronicles, Day Four

Day Four.

Today I worked from work, so that was different.

I'm trying to work from home as much as possible, but there are certain things I cannot do unless I'm connected to the district's server. My goal is to collect those things and then go into the office to get them all done at once so as to minimize my trips to work. We're up to five confirmed cases of corona in our area, and I think we all expect that number to grow a bit before it falls.

As of yesterday all of the restaurants and bars had to close their dining rooms. They can still do take out and delivery, but it's devastating for local businesses. I keep seeing social media posts about supporting businesses by ordering delivery or take out as you can afford it. Since I was at the office today I ordered "to go" tacos from Fuzzy's. It was eerie in there. The world is weird right now.

I've never really liked the colloquialism "this too shall pass." I'm more of a live-in-the-moment-even-if-it-sucks kind of girl. So I'm living in this moment like we all are, hoping it will make us all better in some small way. Today I spent some of my weekly allowance on dining out and lunch and left a bigger tip than usual. Could it be that tacos are making me better? I'm not against it.

Random stuff probably no one cares about:

1) I slammed my finger in the door back in January, and now the busted part of my nail has grown out enough to see it. It super duper gross and my whole nail might fall off. If I were around you in person I'd probably make you look at it.

2) Tucker worked six hours today, and Keaton spent the day at Mimi and Papa's doing tech support. He set them up with Netflix and installed their WiFi extender. That kid is happier when he's busy. Also, Tucker has discovered that the NFL app on our FireStick is streaming old football games for free. I'm so excited about this. Seriously. I'm so sad I missed this game between the Rams and Chiefs when it was on last year (insert eye roll emoji here). In my house the games come with anticipating statements like "Watch this!" and commentary on what a certain person (Tucker) was thinking and feeling when he saw it happen the first time he watched it.

3) I walked the loop yesterday and drank either two or three yetis of water. Counting is clearly not my strength. I'll go for a walk again today unless it's pouring.

4) I need a pedicure SO BAD. Like, bad bad. I'll have guilt if I go out and don't social distance, but if I go I'm supporting a local business. That's good, right?  Ugh. Things like this feel like huge decisions these days.

5) I have this awesome book I bought a few years ago, 642 Things to Write About. I've decided I should try to pick a prompt at random each day and write about it here. Today's prompt is, "Come up with every possible way to describe ____ without using the word itself." (I can't tell you what it is because that would ruin the fun.)

Here goes:
Flames licking a damp log thrown on a bonfire.
Anger.
A fluttering bird reminding me of someone lost.
Love.
Bricks.
Blazing summer sunsets.


The End.

The Corona Chronicles

We're living through a real-life pandemic. I'm thinking I should call this the Corona Chronicles or something, but I certainly don't want to make light of the situation. Life is weird right now. I don't want to be "that person" who jokes about something so serious, but we ALL need laughter when we can get it.
I don't really write much for pleasure anymore. I say it's because my job is full of stuff that it not mine to share (that was true when I was a principal, too) and my kids are teenagers who may not appreciate their lives being blasted out into the world from their mom's perspective. And there just hasn't been time. Until Corona.
When I was a kid I always had the check mark on my report card for "talks too much." Almost a year ago I drastically reduced my volume of talking when I went from principal-ing to an office job. Further reduction because of social distancing could quite possibly make me explode. So perhaps I shall write a bit for my sanity and such.
Working from home day #2.
1) Yesterday was very productive for me. I'm fielding emails and responding to questions as quickly as I can. I'm also working on projects that will hopefully have a positive long-term impact for the district, and I likely wouldn't make progess so quickly if I were doing the day-to-day work that is now put on hold with our closure. #brightside
2) It's very weird not to be on the front lines helping teachers and students in the midst of this craziness. Your kids' principals and teachers and central office staff are doing really tough mental work right now figuring out how to support their students both academically and otherwise. The teacher in me is struggling a little bit. If you have a kiddo at home who wants to write letters, send them to me by email or snail mail and I can promise they will get a quick response. If you're a school person and you need someone to help with anything at all, please reach out. I'm very good with Screen-Cast-O-Matic if you find yourself in need of that tool.
3) My instinct when I need to talk to someone is walk over to where they are and have a conversation. It's quite a challenge to tell myself I can have the same conversations without seeing the person's face in person. I've resisted the urge to get in my car and drive to the office many times over the last one day and two hours. I keep telling myself if I can do it from here I should do it from here. That's just not as much fun.
4) I love seeing everyone being creative and giving each other and themselves grace and thinking outside the box. Perhaps this will later be seen as the Great Creative Renaissance, and the arts will be forever changed because of this time. Inventions could skyrocket! Our propensity for running at full speed has been compromised, and I'm guessing we're going to learn a whole bunch from it. I'm on board with that.
5) Tucker works at HEB and is pumped about the ability to pick up lots of shifts. I think he works every day this week. I see new camera equipment in his future (he spends all of his money on food and camera equipment).
6) Keaton has completely cleaned out his room, steam cleaned the carpets, and built a new shelving unit for his shoes. My boys pretty frequently want to go to Lowes and buy supplies for projects, so my rule is that I first have to see a drawn out plan and supply list. Yesterday (with some help from his brother), he created a custom, six-foot shoe shelf for his closet. I need some shelves on the back patio, but I'm holding out that project for when he and Tucker run out of their own.

Today I resolve to drink three full Yetis of water (I should probably know that in ounces but I don't), listen to only happy music, and go for a walk outside. Here's to social distancing day two! best of luck to us all!

That time I locked Trey out at 2:00 in the morning

I've been writing nonstop for grad school. This weekend I'm totally caught up and relaxing and I find myself dying to write down this story. You all have my permission to tell me my future carpal tunnel syndrome is my own fault.

We have this annoying and lovable dog named Roxie. She's getting older, and she often needs to go out in the middle of the night. At least that's what Trey tells me because I never hear her when I'm sleeping. (Side note: I'm not good at going to sleep, but once I'm sleeping I am VERY good at staying that way.)

Two nights ago, Roxie needed to go out. Trey let her out the back door and then went to the bathroom. I heard the bathroom door close and then thought to myself how comfy my bed is and how awesome sleep is and my heart was happy and I continued my slumber.

Then, out of nowhere, Roxie started screaming from outside. Not barking. Now howling. Screaming. It was such a terrible sound that I was immediately convinced she had been bitten by a snake. I jumped from the bed and ran to the backdoor, arriving about the same time as Trey.

This is what happened in my head:
"She's been bitten by a snake. We have to help her, but we can't get bitten, too. How do you get a dog from a snake in the dark? If Trey gets bitten I'll have to drive him to the hospital. I'll have to wake up the boys and tell them and it will probably freak them out. If it bites him on his hand it could turn black and fall off and he would be in the hospital for a long time. That would be terrible. Do I sacrifice my dog to save my husband's hand?"

This is what came out of my mouth:
"Don't go out there!"

But he did go out there. He stood outside the door and called the dog as I stood in the open doorway. We heard Roxie's little feet scurrying toward us. We saw her, and in the next instant her pursuer appeared.

A giant mutant attack possum.

Everything froze. The possum froze. Roxie froze. Trey froze. My eyes locked with his.

I slammed the door shut.

Here's what happened in my head:
"It's a possum!  Where's a gun? That thing is bigger than Roxie!  I wonder if it's rabid? Where's a gun? We should keep a pellet gun by the back door. That would at least scare it away. If we shot it with a real gun then Castlegate would go crazy because of gunshots in the neighborhood. The cops would probably come which would wake up the boys and freak them out. Look at it!  It's enormous! That thing absolutely cannot get in my house. How would we get a possum out of the house?"

What did not happen in my head:
"I just locked Trey out of the house with our dog and a mutant rabid possum at 2:00 in the morning."

I'm not sure what happened next. I do know that Trey and Roxie scooted inside through a tiny crack in the door that I opened for them. He turned on the light and checked her for injuries. We were convinced she had been brutally attacked because of the dog-screams. She was not only fine, but she sauntered back into our room to her bed and immediately was fast asleep like nothing. even. happened.

So we went to bed. I don't think I've been in the backyard since then. I wonder if the scary rodent lives in our bushes or was just here for a visit. How does one rid their suburban back patio of giant mutant possums?

Here's what we learned:
1) I have full confidence in Trey's ability to fend off rabid possums in the middle of the night. That must be why I locked him out. Self-preservation had nothing to do with it. I'm certain.
2) My brain works really fast at 2:00 in the morning.
3) Santa should bring the Hickman III's a pellet gun this year.

Wait. What? Is this a blog post? No way.

I blogged one time in 2018. ONE TIME.

Well, now two.

Do the cool kids even blog anymore?

I started this blog to document my kids' hilarity. I wanted to remember the silly little day-to-day things, and keeping a baby book was never really my thing. Then my kids got older and stopped appreciating that I shared personal stories about them with the world. (They should really appreciate their internet fame a little more. You're welcome, Hickman boys.)

Then in 2015 the profile of my job changed, and I felt (and still feel) a vast responsibility to represent myself in a certain way (a way that doesn't include occasional bad words and wine).

These things inhibited me as a writer. But I miss it.  So what follows is probably going to be a rambling, too long post about nothing.

Not Seinfeld nothing. More nothing than that.

I've only run off and on this year. Yesterday I ran three miles. Don't get excited - it was three slow miles accomplished with a 2/1 interval. It was a perfect Texas December day at 60 degrees and sunny with a slight breeze, and it reminded me how much I love to run.

I marveled at how amazing God made people. My knees screamed for the first three or four minutes, and then I settled in and did some serious marveling. I did my best to remember the prayer that Chris Field prayed before the marathon I ran in 2016. All I could really come up with was how he thanked God for our bodies that can run and our lungs that can breathe. I went back to my marathon post, but I didn't write that part down. If anyone knows Chris and he has a copy of that prayer to share, send it my way. It's one of the most memorable prayers of my life.

This caused me to remember the song "Great Are You Lord" by Casting Crowns that God sent to me via Pandora at about mile 23 of the marathon. (Props to Pandora for doing God's work.) It's apparently a pretty well known song, but I had not heard it before then. I pulled it up on my Amazon Music (because Amazon can do God's work, too), and I ran and I sang in my heart and I marveled some more.

Insert segue way here. (In my brain I'm saying, "I sure hope I spelled that right.")

I can be a little anxious. I often worry about things that are ridiculous. For example, a few years ago a teacher wanted to arrange for a helicopter to come to school, and all I could think about was the helicopter chopping off a child's arm. Y'all. This makes no sense. But I saw it happen to Dr. Romano on ER when I was in college, so I guess I just can't let it go.

I suppose I should note that I LOVE to watch Criminal Minds, and I'm not worried at all that someone will murder me and feed my body to pigs and put my shoes in a trash can so that the police can solve the mystery. I guess I'm selective about my crazy.

It's Christmas break, and I'm off work, and my crazy can go, well, crazy when I'm not occupied. Running yesterday reminded me that when I focus on the wrong things, that's when I feel anxious. Then I saw this thing on facebook (that I cannot find again to save my life), and it said something like how you're feeling may indicate whether God is leading you or just following behind carrying your bags. I was all "Oh. That's pretty legit. That is so me." (If one of you finds that quote, hook a girl up.)

Insert another hopefully-spelled-right segue way.

I reflected on the year I learned how to quilt and then made like a hundred of them (2014). The year I decided to become a runner (2015). The year I decided to run a flipping marathon (2016).  The year I read the whole New Testament and Psalms and Proverbs (2017, I think).

Then I thought about 2019. What should be my thing? Do I need a thing? Maybe I should run and blog and quilt and pray more and scroll less. I spend a lot of time scrolling through nothing. It doesn't make me better. I've frequently considered my doctorate lately. Maybe that's the thing. It will likely require a great deal of running and prayer for stress relief!

To Summarize: Blogging. Running. Marveling. Anxiety. Doing big things.

Happy Almost 2019. Let's do it right.

The End.

Here you go, Amazon. Take all my money.

We got an Alexa for Christmas. So basically our lives are changed forever.

We set up our new family member pretty quickly after Christmas, but it took us a few days to actually start using her to our advantage. When I learned that Alexa will remind you of things, I immediately set a reminder for Keaton's stupid reading log that's due online by midnight Friday nights and NEVER gets done. Since it's online, if he forgets he is locked out and unable to log anything at all. It's kind of the bane of my 7th grade mom existence. At first we fought about it all the time, and by the end of the semester I gave up and now I'm just happy if someone in this family mentions a reading log ever. Until Alexa. She's like the OCD daughter I never had.

Me: Alexa, set a reminder for Keaton's reading log for Fridays at 8 p.m.
Alexa: I have set a reminder for Kitten's reading log for Fridays at 8 p.m.
Me: Yeah, you did!

Whose winning at life now? This girl.

Then the boys figured out the reminders.

Keaton: Alexa, set a reminder to punch Tucker in five minutes.
Me: Alexa, do not set that reminder!
Alexa: I have set a reminder to punch Tucker in five minutes.
Me: Alexa, cancel reminder.
Alexa: Which reminder would you like me to cancel?
Me: What reminders do you have?
Alexa: Kitten's reading log on Fridays at 8 p.m. Order iPhone X for Tucker at 5 p.m. Punch Tucker in five minutes... (I stopped her because I feared she would go on forever).

Why do kids have to learn technology? What are schools these days teaching them anyway? They should really stop bullying their robot sister.

Alexa will also set timers, which is super easy when cooking. The shopping list feature is fantastic. We simply ask her to put items on the shopping list when we notice we're running low, and they show up in the app so I always have the list if I stop at the store. She loves lists just like me!

I did have to translate a bit when I was at H-E-B and saw "fun size eminems" on the list. I pictured tiny angry rappers in my head as I walked down the candy aisle, so that was fun.

My family came to celebrate Christmas over the New Year, and we were showing off our new toy. We did the question of the day and played Jeopardy. Great fun was had by all. The best part was when my dad called her "Alexis" and she didn't respond. I don't think he's even seen this SNL skit which made it all the more hilarious.

[Dad, I'm not implying that you are old. Don't get your dentures in a bunch :)]

Finally, the ultimate, life-changing gift that Alexa has given our family is Amazon Music.

Listen carefully. This is important.

Amazon Music has ALL OF THE MUSIC. Yes. All of it. Every song in the world. I am not exaggerating. I asked Alexa to play some Russian polka from 1937 played on a xylophone, and she did it!

Not really. But, ALL OF THE MUSIC!

The boys and I were listening to some top 40 popular music over Christmas, and one of them quickly realized she was playing the "explicit" version of a song.

Tucker: Alexa, skip.
She moved on to the next song.
Keaton: Alexa, skip.
A few notes of the next song plays.
Tucker: Alexa, skip.

This went on for a bit, and then we decided to choose another station. It wasn't until the next day that I wondered how my sons both know after the first few notes that a song is explicit. Exactly what do they listen to when they aren't with their fine, upstanding mother?

It didn't take me long to decide to spend the $9.99 a month on Amazon Music Unlimited. I can listen to ALL OF THE MUSIC in my car, outside on a speaker, and when I'm running. I even started making playlists - one with Ray LaMontagne, Norah Jones, The Lumineers; one with James Taylor, Elton John, John Denver; one with The Killers, Fall Out Boy, Panic at the Disco, Coldplay. Want to hear a random song you haven't thought of in years?  Hang on - I've got it here on my phone.

I'll finish my Alexa post with a quick story:

Apparently Ed Sheeran's song "Perfect" has two versions - one with just Ed and one that's a duet with Beyonce. Every time it comes on the radio in my car Tucker sings along to the first verse, interjecting "please, please, please be the right one!" When Beyonce doesn't start singing on the second verse, he yells, "Where is Beyonce?!?!?!"

I know what you're thinking. Tucker? Belting out a song and begging for Beyonce? But I'm telling you this has happened on multiple occasions.

Today when he cried out to the windshield for Queen Bey once again, I smiled and changed the radio to the duet version from Amazon Music.

Beyonce is here in the car with us. Alexa introduced us, and we will never be without her again.

We love you, Beyonce. Thanks, Alexa.

August. College Station, Texas.

August. College Station, Texas.

The students are back.

Those of us non-students who live here often lament the good ol' days of summer when all of the students went home to their moms and dads and summer jobs. We then had full use of restaurants with no wait. Grocery stores never ran completely out of anything. Aisles of stores weren't clogged with moms and dads and grandmas and grandpas and younger siblings all searching together for the perfect breakfast cereal to fuel their college student's mornings. During the glorious summer we had all of the amenities of a city with only a fraction of the people.

Those days are mostly gone, with A&M's enrollment in the neighborhood of 60,000 and more and more people pushing through college by taking summer classes. Nonetheless, the first weekend of August brings with it the newness of little baby adults leaving home for the first time. As a result, traffic is crazy, stores are packed, and those of us who live here full time make an effort to avoid peak student times and locations as much as possible for a few weeks.

The truth is, we love the students. We love their eagerness, the excitement of becoming a part of our town and beloved school. We love their silliness and youth. They keep College Station young and vibrant, I suppose. Because of that, I always make an extra effort to have patience this time of year. If someone drives like they have no idea where they're going, it's probably because they don't. Most service staff - from waiters to cashiers - are new to their jobs. They look twelve years old and nervous, and I feel obliged to smile and be okay with the few extra minutes added to all of my errands. We tip well and give grace. We remember that we used to be them.

But today I made a mistake. A big mistake. I forgot that it is the first weekend of August in College Station, Texas. And I went to Hobby Lobby.

The place had been overtaken by the students and their families attempting to decorate their new apartments. People were swarming, I tell you. I had three things on my list: a metal art piece for the master bathroom, a 12 x 12 frame for the hall bath, and some Wonder Under for my niece's quilt (Sidebar: The quilt is a graduation present. She graduated around three months ago and moves into her apartment next week here at A&M. I probably should have done this already. My tardiness is the real reason I found myself at Hobby Lobby on August 5th.)

I put on my patience and looked for the joy in their adventures.

I giggled at the two young men trying to purchase wall art. They wandered aimlessly from aisle to aisle, finally stopping in front of some decorative wooden arrows. Baby Adult #1 picked up an arrow. Baby Adult #2 shrugged. Baby Adult #1 said, "Let's just get a whole bunch of these," and Baby Adult #2 nodded.

I can't stop picturing their apartment walls covered in stolen hometown street signs, beer posters, an Aggie flag, and a plethora of Kacey Musgrave-esque arrows. Follow your arrow, boys. Follow your arrow.

Dads. Lots of dads. Most of them far, far away from the people they came shopping with. One stood alone checking his teeth in one of the 72 mirrors on the mirror aisle. One popped wheelies with the cart on the only aisle that didn't have hoards of people. I stood nearby as a dad climbed up onto the display platform that held a fully decorated room and planted himself firmly on the wrought iron bench with a sigh. The dads entertained me.

I realized immediately that I would save time and sanity if I ordered a frame online (Praise the Lord for Amazon Prime). I quickly selected a wood and iron piece for the bathroom, telling myself I can return it if it doesn't work. I picked up the Wonder Under and then saw the line to have fabric cut, and decided once again that Prime would be a better choice.

I happily, patiently went to the check out. There I was pleasantly surprised because ALL of the checkouts were open. I don't think this has ever happened in the history of HobLob. I'm not totally convinced the people who run the place know that everyone who buys things has to check out because there is consistently a line of ten to twenty people waiting for one stressed out checker. But not today!  Today I walked up and was second in line!

That's when things went south.

Random College Girl was talking loudly on her phone while the checker held her one item. The register phone rang, the checker got some needed information (presumably the price), and then quickly hung up. The checker looked on while Random College Girl whined into her phone, "Oh my God! I swear I got the only piece of posterboard here without a price thingy on it!" Then it went like this:

Checker (who was probably in her first day on the job): Excuse me. Will that be all?
Random College Girl: Wait. Huh? (to phone) Hold on.
Checker:Will that be all?
Random College Girl (waving Mommy's American Express): Yeah

At this point, I felt my patience seeping away. See, when I first moved out I used checks that connected to a bank account that had money in it because I put it there. I had a ninety-nine cent loaded baked potato from Wendy's for lunch every single day for a whole year. And I was nice to people. 

(Yes, I'm generalizing about Random College Girl and her American Express. For purposes of this blog post, I don't care. Judge me.)

The conversation continued...

Checker: That will be $16.49.
Random College Girl: (snippy) What did you say? How much? (then, to phone) Oh my God! I must have gotten the most expensive piece of posterboard in the store. (back to checker) What is the price again?
Checker: $16.49

I need to add here that the checker was holding something that was not poster board. It was about four feet by four feet and covered in some kind of backing that seemed cardboard-like.  In my head I wondered what planet this chick was from that she thought this was poster board. And then I wondered why on earth she would come to HobLob to purchase one piece of posterboard. Here in College Station, America, we get that at H-E-B for forty-seven cents like civilized people. My patience level reached an all-time low.

The conversation continued...

Random College Girl: (to phone) Look, I'm going to have to rethink my project if poster board is this expensive. Hmmm... (presumably thinking, then to checker) Can I just leave that here with you? I don't think I want it anymore?
Checker: Yes ma'am.

Random College Girl walked away chattering loudly into her phone. I must not have lost all of my patience because I did not at any time yell, "GET OFF THE DAMN PHONE!"

The sweet first-day-on-the-job checker did an excellent job ringing up my purchase and processing my payment. I wish I could have tipped her.

On my way to the car it occurred to me that although Random College Girl had absolutely no manners and clearly did not know what poster board is, she did know not to put $16.49 on her parents' American Express for it. That's a start, I suppose. I bets she grows up a lot here.

And so we welcome the students. We ask that you have some manners, clean up after yourselves, work hard, have fun, and make yourself and your parents proud. We will continue to do our level best to give you patience, tip well, smile, and make you feel at home in this place that will be part of you forever.

Welcome to Aggieland.