Me in a Minute?

We’ve moved. Hear that, Pete? We’ve moved!

The ‘new’ place is fantastic …and a lot of work. Every room is a project waiting to top the list. Every corner of the yard needs pruning or trimming or weeding or…

Part of the backyard, as explored by my toddler.

Still, we’re settling in. We’re meeting the neighbors. As part of this, I’ve tried to listen when our local LDS ward’s* Relief Society hosts Me in a Minute. The idea is that a woman has one minute to describe herself.

One minute. 🕒

Naturally, I’ve thought how I would fill my minute if I had a turn. I wouldn’t do that, I’ve thought. Or, I wouldn’t say that. Welllll, Karma has come around; I’ve been asked to try my hand during the meeting tomorrow.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Problem is, I’m over-thinking -for good reason. Most people introduce themselves by profession. Then, they elaborate. Then, they name a few interests or achievements. If I were to follow this format, however, my introduction would be:

Hello. I’m a mother. I have five and 8/9 boys. In my spare time, I sleep. Today, I got dressed.

I’d love to be more clever than that, but there’s the problem of the 8/9 boy draining my mental capacity. And ability to stand for a full minute without needing to visit the ladies’ room… Maybe I ought to give myself a script.

So, really, what would you say in a minute’s time? Would you write it all out or just wing it?

©2021 Chel Owens

*The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is unique in that one attends a ward or branch in the area one moves to; and that this ward or branch follows exactly the same schedule, format, doctrine, etc. as any other.

10/18/2021 of COVID-19 Life

These current COVID times are odd. We live as if the disease does not exist, with constant reminders that it does.

During the worldwide shutdown, you see, our family shuttered into itself; not eating out, not going out, not accepting human interaction or even packages. Our norm is to eat homemade most of the the time but I felt too scared of the risk to try any food prepared in a restaurant.

Contrast to now: we get takeout at least once a week, go out for shopping or school, and visit family and friends and receive them. I no longer make the kids wait a whole day before opening boxes we’ve received. Our new norm is whatever we need based on energy level and access to the kitchen from unpacking/organizing.

I see friends and relatives going on vacations, attending school dances, and watching sports from a crowded stadium.

A football game at the University of Utah stadium.

I feel like everyone thinks and acts like we’re all normal. Then… every time I have an OB/GYN appointment, I must mask, sanitize, and declare my cleanliness from COVID at check-in. Many businesses require their employees to wear a mask; many politely demand or request the same from clientele. My Twofacebook feed hosts shaming and statistics messages against unvaccinated folks OR staunch personal freedom and risk messages in favor of never complying with vaccine regulations.

Unfortunately, I also see occasional posts about this person who has passed away or that person who is struggling in the hospital and could use prayers. Fortunately, I have yet to experience a close family member’s being sick with COVID.

I have had one coworker test positive. She was vaccinated. She described her experience as, “having a bad cold that went on and on;” she’d also lost her sense of taste and smell.

Still, Utah’s case numbers look good:

The biggest side effect of Sir ‘Rona is in this U.S. nation’s response and subsequent inflation and shortages.

Necessities like lumber and cement are quite expensive and often rationed out to contractors. McDonald’s was out of root beer for our Happy Meals last week. KFC said they were out of breasts. Shoppers keep exhausting our local Costco stores of toilet paper (again!!) and bottled water. When I applied to our mobile windshield repairman for a replacement, he said he couldn’t get a windshield for our minivan. When I applied to the body shop for a small repair on our pickup truck, they said we could come in mid-December.

Everywhere has Now Hiring signs for entry-level positions. I’ve read articles about supply ships gathered at ports without workers to unload or with strict regulations for the crews. No one seems to want these low-paying jobs, including positions like bus driver or trucker. Point fingers where you may, but current government ‘support’ seems to be contributing; in the words of Percy Blakeney of The Scarlet Pimpernel, “Sink me; if everyone isn’t so equal in your new society that no one wants to do the driving anymore.”

I’m grateful we have more on our side to combat this respiratory infection. I wonder when we’ll consider it finally absolved. After all, they’ve only just approved a childhood vaccine for malaria….

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©2021 Chel Owens

Life’s Lost Instructions

Life is a collection of reminders.

“Socks before shoes -wait! Fold seams inside the socks first…”

Every moment is a list of instructions we pull from the linted clump of a cranial pocket. Frowning, we take it out, straighten it, and make sense of the blurry pen marks and dog-eared corners.

“Put the car in Park before turning the engine off…”

How many notes; how many memories end up in those pockets? Once they’re full, is that when we discover -to our confused dismay- a hole in the lining?

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

©2021 Chel Owens