COVID19 in-house Day 2: We Are One

When my youngest was maybe four years old, that meant I also had a six, nine, and eleven year old, we lived on a farm. Some would call it paradise: we lived in a beautiful old stone house, with a wood stove, terracotta floors, and a view of the fields and a huge old oak tree and a big cherry tree. We had a duck pond, with ducks and geese, and hens, a vineyard, a huge vegetable garden, a dog and a cat. We ate food from our own land, drank wine from our vineyard. I would walk down the path about 50 meters and carry 18 litre jerry cans of drinking water back to the house from the spring. On the down side, it was a project that involved a hell of a lot of work, and time and energy, without any financial reward, so we were pretty tired by the end of each day. It was a good, healthy, solid life.

One fall, my oldest came home from school with a bad case of head lice. Back in those days, in Italy, you didn't get the sucky letters from the school about how to treat it and how to isolate or whatever. You just dealt with it. Two of our family of six didn't get them. My husband clearly was not on their menu, and one of my sons. But I did, and all three of the other kids did. I have long curly hair, and my youngest did back then as well.

For a while, I tried to treat us individually. I used separate everything, I got all stressed about isolating, hard when they all slept in the same room. I carefully did all the things you're supposed to do. Nothing. The insect world was clearly winning.

Then one day, well into the winter, I realized that I was going about it all wrong. This was a case of the insect world against the human world! If I killed a louse on one head, the rest of them would just move to another head! I needed to look at the family as a whole, and engage in all-out, across the board battle against these creatures.

I went back to one hairbrush. I washed all the laundry together in hot water and hung it out for 24 hours. The brothers went back to rough-and-tumbling together with their heads touching. I reduced my intense stress and anxiety. I continued intensive hair washing and cleaning but smaller brothers bathed together as before.

I was victorious! By realizing that we were one, by reducing my anxiety and concentrating on the matter at hand, and by lessening useless restrictions on having fun, I finally managed to vanquish these tiny creatures who were making our collective life miserable.

Ya, so? COVID19 is a killer virus, not just an embarrassing insect. True. Even more reason to look at how we are reacting to the crisis, and to understand better what our most effective tactics might be.  I'm not an epidemiologist, although I've been saying for a few years now that if reincarnation is a thing, then I'd love to become one next time around. But then again, I probably won't remember or I'll be a squirrel. What I have understood, though, is that the more people stay at home and limit their contacts with others, the less people will get infected all at once, which will lessen the global severity of the pandemic. So, if I'm staying at home with my family, there are five of us here. If we all get it, or if we all have it already, we are staying home and not infecting anyone else. If we all go out because we feel great, then that number of possibly infected people grows exponentially. And a certain percentage of those people will need medical care. So the more people out and about, the more really sick people will crowd the hospitals.

If we all stay home, the infection stays home too. The number of new infections is reduced, and the hospitals and health care workers can better manage the load. If we look at Italy as our example of what not to do, their population and their government ignored this simple rule for far too long, and so the virus spread like wildfire. We need to recognize that every single one of us is part of a bigger whole. I'm staying home, my kids are staying home, I hope you are staying home too.

And if you're not staying home because you're a health care worker, or part of our essential services, then thank you! Stay safe, stay healthy, stay happy.

Stay happy? I'm not actually an extrovert. I think I may be a little Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. I do love people, I love a party, I love chatting with people, I love running my cafe and making jokes and finding out about peoples' lives. But damn! Give me the four hour solitude of a long Sunday run! Put me in the mountains on my own and let me wander! Leave me at home alone for days on end! I do appreciate my own company as well.

Yesterday was a challenge. I got up early to have a little alone time, which was fabulous, except I wasted a large part of it on my phone looking at funny covid memes. Then the day just blistered by. We had a mid day crisis when my nephew was trying to decide if he should drive back home with friends (long car ride, not a good idea). The day filled up with worry and anxiety. I spoke to two friends who are over 70 and in isolation. My family is around the world and I miss them. What's going to happen? I felt out of control and extremely worried. What the hell? My cafe that I worked so hard for, stricken down by a fucking VIRUS? Where do we draw the line with our social isolation rules? Can we go to the workplace to pick stuff up? Use the copy machine? Can we go buy booze? Can my son visit his girlfriend? Damn, I don't know...

Good Stuff
So, I did intervals yesterday. My fastest pace was 4:34. Ha! Getting fitter at least... I am planning  a virtual book club. I sent some money to a friend in Greece working with the migrants. I kept my shit together.

Love you all!

COVID19 in-house Day 1: Tie Your Camel

Pray to Allah, but tie your camel to a tree. What does this mean? For me, simply, it means that we should trust that everything will work out for the best, more or less, but that we should also be active in our own destinies as far as possible.

Being born is a hugely dangerous activity, because it means you're gonna die, bruh. 100% mortality rate for those of us who are alive. That said, it's always nice if you can find a way to live longer, hence tying your metaphorical camel to a tree instead of relying on Allah to take care of it for you.

When I was just fifteen, I ambled up to the Trans-Canada and started an epic trip across the country. I vividly remember wearing a light blue windbreaker, and having a pencil and nine dollars in my pocket. Hitchhiking is never a good idea, not even in 1972, but I survived, and I collected some mind-blowing memories along the way.

Being the only vertical thing for miles and miles in Saskatchewan and watching a storm come overhead, being rained on, and then watching it leave was a memory that I still rely on when I'm thinking about life.

Standing on the side of the road for hours and hours in Manitoba, feeling very hungry, thirsty and a little bit scared, watching all the bigs cars and trucks pass as the passengers looked at me, a skinny kid with Janis Joplin hair and a light blue anorak. And then the most tumble-down truck in the world, that contained the biggest family I'd ever seen, stopped and gave me a ride to the next Nowheresville destination and crammed two dollars into my pocket as I jumped out of the truck.

And the guy who was so drunk he could hardly talk who only stopped because he wanted me to drive, and I'd never driven before but I managed ok, until we got to a city, then I parked the car, got out and left him sleeping like a baby, as he had done since he picked me up.

So, these are probably stories about when I should have tied the camel a little tighter, or perhaps my parents should have. Either way, I survived, with a healthy respect for Allah, and for rope.

Last week I was trying to balance trusting in God (fate, Universe, whatever you want to call it), with being cautious. I decided that it was safe for me to wipe down the tables at my cafe with disinfectant and to be more conscious about normal safety rules in the kitchen. I didn't touch the handles on public transport. We decided not to eat out.

Then things moved very quickly: I closed the cafe for in-house meals, switching to delivery. I stopped using public transit. We had a family pow wow about washing hands. And then, and now, things moved even quicker and I decided, as many of you have, to stay at home, to avoid unnecessary outings, and to bide my time at home.

My camel is tied very tightly to the tree. And I am praying, in my own way, that this crisis will pass soon. I'm lucky. I have most of my family around me, and I'm healthy, and we have lots of food and... of course I have my saxophone to play and I can still run outside and and and .... sending you all love. Take care of yourselves and each other.

Takes a Village

 takes a village

to get a lady and her dog onto a flight

It was a very busy time in my life. I had just run a marathon. Lots of fun but tiring! I flew home and straight back to work. 

My BFF let me know her son had died.

My other BFF got a cancer diagnosis.

Then a lady drove her car straight into my café!

I am so grateful for all the good in my life, and I always try to do my best to send love and caring, and actually DO stuff for people… but honestly I felt like pieces of heavy things were falling all around me. 

Could I keep everyone safe from harm? Where are all my five chickadees? (um, well they’re all over the world: little chickadees tend to grow up and fly…) Is my true love gonna be ok up on the mountain without me? What the hell if this crusty thing on the dog’s nose? Am I actually losing my mind? How can I be a better friend? Are my sons doing ok with their partners? Also, how are my sisters? Can I keep the world turning just by thinking good thoughts?

By the time it was the weekend before I was due to travel to Italy – me and our dog on a Transat flight – I was spinning in tiny circles.

And do you know what happened? A giant net of loving hands appeared and moved me along, carefully and with a great sense of humour, to destinations planned and half planned. Two friends took care of the dog so I could visit son #2 in Ontario. Said son and lovely fiancée showed me a wonderful time in their beautiful space. 

Son #3 and his partner organized packing the car and food… and actually packed the car… and were ready with jokes when needed… 

Son #5 played the ukulele accompaniment to our road music while we were driving… he is the calmest person I know and his waves of coolness kept me afloat…

All and sundry cooked dinner before my flight, drove us to the airport, helped me stuff the dog in her crate, touched my back gently when I was about to yell at the Transat gal who was ordering me around …

All I know is, sometimes it takes a village to live a life. Just take a moment to be grateful for your friends, and your family. If you know anyone who doesn’t have either of those, go out and find them! We were all born alone, and we will die alone, but in between it’s worth it to reach out and make a friend. 

Thanks guys!

Gold Medals

I ran my first race in 2015, a half marathon, with my sister and her husband. I had started running two years before, but I've always been someone who uses my body to do hard things.

Tomorrow I'm running the Hypothermic Half in Oka, Quebec. Last year the race was in Montreal, at a nice flat loop on one of the islands. This year they moved it - after I'd already registered! And the new place is more challenging. Hills, trails, and the weather this year is definitely something to be reckoned with.

It's in the middle of my marathon training schedule and I am longing for clear sidewalks, or sunny trails, and less layers. But life is what it is, and I'll be wearing layers tomorrow, and cleats, and my lucky hanky will probably freeze.

But I'll wake up and have my regular race breakfast - a caffe latte and a bowl of oatmeal... and good to go!

Why do I run? Because I can. Because it's something I can do on my own. Because it reminds me of when I was younger and I'd hike in the mountains, accompanied only by me, myself and I. Because it gives me time to think. Because it's fun!

And the medals? They're an extra little bit of memorabilia that I can look at after my race.

At my cafe, we had a tough little time back in the fall, when we were in the middle of a big concept change, and our workload shifted big time, and I was always tired, and .... one thing led to another and I ended up getting a 2 star review! It was a shock to be publicly dissed, but also a shock to see how much I cared about what is essentially bullshit.

So we made a few changes, and now our cafe is working well, as well as it can and as well as we can, which is to say that we are more often crowded than not.. and I have decided that going after the stars or the gold medals, or the flattering comments, is a rabbit hole down which I don't really want to go.

Because, after all, it is YOU who decides whether you have succeeded or not. Our culture is full of advice about how to be the best, but none of it means anything in the end because you're the only one who can truly and effectively be you. Which is maybe why I love running, because I'm only racing against myself, and because essentially we all are.

So, remember, next time your buddy posts a picture of her amazing family, or someone calls you a bad name in public (read: on the internet), or your kid doesn't do well on a test, remember that comparing isn't worth it. Are you doing the best you can? Are you getting help if you can't? five stars for effort, and that's all any of us deserve!

Gratitude

Yesterday, December 27, 2016

I went over to a friend's place early in the morning to deliver a package for my son. Then down to the cafe with some supplies and ingredients for our baking extravaganza. Then over to pick up a gift for a friend who is grieving.

Then home for a minute, and I spoke to a postpartum mother who is healing from  c-section and learning how to breastfeed. Spoke to another postpartum mother who is finally getting the hang of feeding, and we discussed poop and the color of poop and breasts and all that baby talk.
I went for a run, I was going to do five k but man! the sidewalks were icy, I came home after a slippery run of 3 and a half k.

Back to the cafe, to pick up a meal for my grieving friend. I dropped it off at her house, full of love and sadness.

Then off with my family: three sons, husband and "daughter-in-love". We went shopping! I bought my lovely DIL a pair of sandals to wear indoors, and we got some booze, and didn't buy anything else but laughed together at the crazy consumer-inspired road rage happening.

I love my family - all for one and one for all! L'Chaim!!

Then back home, a bit to eat, drive downtown, to the movies!! Rogue One! I brought drinks in my purse because Cymbalists don't like to pay $7 for a small Coke.

Hey, the battle between good and evil? Good wins!!! But everyone dies in the end.

Then out for a drink, and we got a big plate of nachos, but they had chili con carne on them which we don't eat, so we got it to go and dropped it off for a homeless man on St Catherine - he ate well last night!

Then a different bar, the Whiskey Cafe, our regular. Drank good Scotch, had a blast, went home to our warm house, welcoming dog, and comfortable bed.

I lay in my bed so happy, so full of love and gratitude.

People living in Greece right now who have escaped the bloodshed in Syria? They had lives much like mine! Ok, maybe without the really insane Boxing Day consumerism, and no going to bars, but they had nice clothes and furniture and real houses and devices and good jobs and cars.

Now they have nothing. Tens of thousands of them are living in Greece, and I want to go there for three weeks to help young families with newborns, or those who are pregnant, so that their lives and the lives of their children, can be made a tiny bit better.

Please donate to my campaign, and share if you can!

https://www.gofundme.com/MothersandbabiesinGreece