12/31/2020 of COVID-19 Home Life

I’ve not written about Coronavirus updates in awhile, I’ve thought for a few weeks. As I sat to type one up just now, I realized this is the last day of the dreaded year 2020. How appropriate.

Like many, many others, I reflect back on this year. Truth be told, today is not the only day I have reflected. Even before Coronavirus, I marveled at where I had come in only a year’s time; for, if you are a follower of my blog, you know that I learned I was pregnant in April of 2019 whilst attending ‘school’ whilst maintaining a few blogs whilst helping our family side business to run.

COVID-19 changed many things. At this point, however, it’s only a factor for us in how it’s affected our children’s school experience and our family’s vacationing and visiting abilities. My pregnancy resulted in a sweet, healthy boy who is now a year old. I barely keep up on any blogging. The side business is BOOMING to the point that we were 1700 orders behind on Etsy at one point…

I guess there’s something to be said for marrying a computer programmer and producing a family of introverts. We’re healthy homebodies.

Local news-wise, Utah’s Coronavirus daily infection numbers are similar to other states. I think. They reached an all-time high of 4611 on November 19 but yesterday’s report (December 30) was a mere 2602.

I don’t know what experience others are having but the COVID Climate here is somewhat casual. We still mask in public. I have the children change their clothes and wash their hands after school. There are no samples at Costco, no free candy baskets at the bank, no free popcorn or soda at the oil change store, no handshakes at business deals, and no Charmin toilet paper or Clorox wipes or pure almond extract at the store.

You know times are tough when a person can’t even get almond extract.

©2020 Chel Owens

I do not like these measures, especially when I drop my children off at school and watch tiny Kindergarteners heading in past their tiny playground with a giant mask obscuring their tiny face. I feel Coronavirus to be a skulking shadow. It’s like the cancer eating away at a close relative of ours; something we know is there, something we need to be constantly aware of, something to FEAR to the point that you do not help that old lady load her groceries or that man who dropped his wallet or that child who needs a hand to hold to search for his mommy in the grocery store…

My fearful Twofacebook friends post worrisome statistics about spread and new strains, but also happy news about the new vaccine -some have even gotten it.
My over-it Twofacebook friends post family pictures and occasional articles on the virus’ restrictions affecting our mental health, but also warning news about the new vaccine -they will not get it if they can help it.

Photo by Artem Podrez on Pexels.com

Still political. Still divided.

But, it’s the holiday season! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

I didn’t make my traditional plate of cookies for my neighbors this year. I opted for a neat luminary tin full of Polish chocolates I found at a European Market store in Salt Lake City. To my surprise, several neighbors and friends did gift us homemade items. We received bread, chocolates, brittles, and peppermint bark.

The best gift of all? A container of Clorox wipes. Don’t tell; I don’t want to get raided.

From Clorox.com‘s site. Good luck finding this golden ticket.

There is FEAR and a good reason to FEAR, if you are being reasonable about it. At the start, I shared the feelings of paranoia that many still feel. I told my children not to answer the door or touch the incoming packages and mail. I left them home with Kevin when I went shopping –if I went shopping.

Now, I am simply careful. I do not lick shopping carts or gas pumps. I wear my mask in public areas. I also shared Christmas with my parents, sister, and her family. We ate together and visited and *gasp* hugged. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?

So, be careful. But, be reasonable. If you’re healthy and haven’t had someone lick you lately, you’re probably fine to hug a grandchild. And if that gives you the heebie-geebies, wash your clothes afterwards. And your hands. But, as Clorox advises on their website, don’t start drinking bleach…

Also from Clorox.com‘s site. It’s a warning that pops up, to cover their legal assets.

What’s daily life like for you? Are you fine sticking around? Heading out now and then? Hugging anyone?

—–

©2020 Chel Owens

Tradition #TankaTuesday

Still, still
Sweet, silent night
Whispered stable story
Glad tidings sung of hist’ry writ
Baby

Jesus
Night of silence
Stable story whispered
Written hist’ry sung, shared gladly
Still, still

Photo by Burkay Canatar on Pexels.com

©2020 Chelsea Owens

Colleen and Ruth challenged me and I’m very glad they did. You can join in, too, for Tanka Tuesday. This week, we are encouraged to write a cinquain; this is a reflecting mirror version.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Carols…

My very busy, important, famous-author friend, Stephen, wrote a blog post about popular Christmas songs. He admitted to his liking “Fairytale Of New York” by The Pogues and “Don’t Let The Bells End” by The Darkness (plus a nod to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is Yoooooooouuuuuu”).

This set me to thinking: what are my favorites? I’d mostly considered the ones I don’t like, since the radio’s inundated with any artist who’s produced anything with “Christmas” or “gifts” in the name in order to get some air time. (By the way, that includes “Christmas Shoes.” I liked it the first time; ONLY the first time.)

Favorites, though? Hmmm. I’m a traditionalist, so I really like The Nutcracker or Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.” I’ll get jazzier with “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” (Brenda Lee) but prefer the instrumental version of “Sleigh Ride.”

And then there’s my complete deviation from those with Manheim Steamroller’s “Los Peces En El Rio” and Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s “Carol of the Bells.” What can I say? My Christmas playlist is about as varied as my everyday one.

Still (still still), I’ll return, anytime, for an excellent choral version of any Christian Christmas carol.

What about you? What are your favorite musical numbers at Christmastime?

©2020 Chelsea Owens

The Ends

It wasn’t much, the new addition; just a bit of pipe and connector and some clever diverting on Jim’s part. Where he’d learnt that, she’d never know.

Still, when The End of Times came, Deb counted that bidet as a true asset.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels.com

©2020 Chelsea Owens

In answer to Deb’s 42-word prompt, apocalyptic.

What’s So Bad About Being a Karen?

I think I might be a Karen.

pexels-brett-sayles-2505970

If you don’t know what heinous sin this is, ‘Karen’ is a name people apply to busybodies, do-gooders, and -basically- annoying types who butt in to ensure you’re doing something correctly. If you look lost on the street, Karen might walk over (uninvited) to tell you not to loiter and exactly what destination you must see. Standing in the wrong place at checkout? Karen will set you straight.

Apparently, many do not enjoy this setting-straightness. They’d rather be left alone to their pitfalls and foibles and misconducts without helpful advice. Many even consider this meddling to be unhelpful. Can you believe that?

This is Reason One why I may be a Karen: I relate to the idea of ‘helping.’ I like the idea of correcting an incorrect world. I have, for example, added the necessary change to a teacher’s whiteboard lesson when she wrote their instead of they’re. When I took some classes toward college last year, the couple running the group mentioned how they will miss my “helping us to know the correct way to do things.” Ouch.

Reason Two for why I might fit this category is that I’ve noticed that I notice errors. I’m critical. I’m observant about defects or problems. In fact, I worked for a couple years as a Quality Control Technician. When reading something, my eyes are drawn to grammar or spelling errors. Yes; I am one of those people.

Tshirt

Sorry.

The good news is that I do not fit Reason Three: my being named Karen. My name is, honestly, Chelsea. My parents were not even going to consider naming me ‘Karen;’ more to the point, my mother thought I was a boy because I attached so much lower than my older sister…

I try to mask my Karenness. I will my expression to remain neutral at misspeakings or misspellings. When in public, I refrain from ‘helping.’ I genuinely care for people and mean well, though; so, what’s so bad about being Karen?

Wouldn’t you want one around?

—————-

It’s been a while since I’ve done this, so here’s a bit of what I did over the last week:
Monday, December 7: Shared a quote by Muhammad Ali.

Tuesday, December 8: Whipped up an awful example of an amusing poem.

Thursday, December 10: Whipped up another awful example of an amusing poem.

Friday, December 11: Winner of the A Mused Poetry Contest. Congratulations to Doug!

Sunday, December 13: Announced the next A Mused Poetry Contest. PLEASE ENTER a limerick about resolutions!

Monday, December 14: An inspirational quote from a book by Anne Lamott.

Tuesday, December 15: “Safer at Home Journal For My Kids,” by Kat of The Lily Café.

Wednesday, Date: Today.

I also posted random thoughts of mine on my motherhood site.

Photo Credit: Photo by Brett Sayles from Pexels, and CafePress

©2020 Chelsea Owens