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            When I wake up in the morning, I’m not sure which Lori I’m going to get. One day, I might get taskmaster Lori. She’s the one who likes to work in the yard, make crafts and pressure wash any flat surface. Other days, I’m met with the Lori who doesn’t want to get out of bed. She’s the one who becomes frozen after reading too many tragic headlines and just needs to sit the day out. 

            Since all of this madness started, there have been thousands of posts on what to do with your “free time.” I appreciate the creativity, but folks need to realize that sometimes we don’t need to do anything but be. I certainly think a pandemic is such an occasion. 

            One of the ways I deal with the stress of this situation and try to “just be” is by reading. Every day, my goal is to make it to our patio by 4 or 5 p.m. with a book in my hand. I need to escape through someone else’s story to keep my story going.

Currently, I’m reading The Astronaut Wives Club by Lily Koppel. I bought it at Walls of Books (my favorite used bookstore) late last summer after John and I watched Chasing the Moon, an excellent documentary about the space race — much better than Tiger King. 

            If anyone knows how to deal with high stress, it’s these ladies. When tragedy struck this close-knit community, the newly made widows handled things the best way they knew how. Some traveled, some moved away and some couldn’t get out of bed. They all dealt with their grief differently; just as we’re all dealing with this pandemic differently. 

            Maybe you’re like my husband. He’s never met a home project he didn’t like. He wakes up early to fix and maintain things I didn’t know we had. And he’ll tell you that the reason he’s so project oriented right now is because that’s the one thing he can control. I respect, appreciate and certainly benefit from that, and some days I’m on the same page as he is. Other days I’m on a completely different bookshelf. 

            When our lockdown began, I felt guilty that I wasn’t doing all of the suggestions that came through my newsfeed. Now would be a great time to paint our bathroom, learn ukulele and/or finally write a book. Then I decided to give myself a little grace — a lot actually. Maybe I will tackle some of those things. Who knows? None of us planned a spring like this, and as far as I can tell, there’s not a playbook for a pandemic. Emily Post surely never covered it. 

            Spring is supposed to be a time filled with festivals, concerts, sporting events, impromptu gatherings outside and allergy conversations. Instead, we’re all hanging out at home, making strategic runs to the grocery store and feeling accomplished when we complete a series on Netflix. It is what it is, and we have to make the best of it in our own way. 

            When we get through this are we going to compare what all we got done while we were quarantined? Is our quarantine success going to be graded by how many books we read, how well our yards look and how many cupboards we cleaned? Are we really going to revert to one-upping each other like a lot of us did before COVID-19?

            I hope not.

I hope that socially distancing will also distance us from judgment. I hope that when the gates open we’ll just be glad to see each other. I hope we’ll tell one another how happy we are that we all made it. I hope we’ll remember what really matters when we’re lucky enough to be together again. That’s the light I see at the end of this ambiguous tunnel. 

            In the meantime, if projects help you deal with this, go rearrange the heck out of your closet. Learn Portuguese if you want! But if that’s not you, that is so okay. Do what will get you through the storm because when this is over, I won’t care how many drawers you organized. I’ll just care that you’re here. Just being will be plenty enough. 

I’d like to dedicate this week’s Weekly Winks to Bill Withers, one of my favorite singer/songwriters of all time. He passed away on Monday, and I just discovered that his birthday is the same as my mom’s, July 4 (perfect Wink of Goodness).

On so many mornings, I’ve sat at my desk playing his song Lovely Day on repeat just to keep me going. I’m listening to it right now as I write this. The world is not all right with me right now, but I have to believe that it’s going to be a lovely day. 

            That said, here are this week’s Weekly Winks. Yes, it’s been a rough week, but today the sun is shining, bright red cardinals are frolicking in my back yard and the azaleas are in full bloom, so things aren’t all bad. 

            Please share your Winks on my site or on my social media pages. We can’t hear about goodness enough during these challenging times. Enjoy your weekend, breathe in the sunshine, call a friend and stay well. 

Saturday — John and I introduced The Tots to their first Jimmy Buffett concert. Buffett is streaming old concerts for free on what he’s calling his Cabin Fever Tour. It was nice to pretend we were at a concert surrounded by other people for a while. And, of course, he played Holiday, one of my all-time favorite Buffett songs. 

Sunday— My dad’s neighbor brought him two homemade blueberry muffins. Dad has the best neighbors. So grateful!

Monday — Listening to John Prine helped me get a much-needed cry out. Last I heard he was doing better in regard to his COVID-19 infection. Here’s to a full recovery!

Tuesday— We watched Wayne’s World with The Tots. I think Graydon has found his tribe. 

Wednesday— My awesome friend, Melissa, sent me a picture of a beautiful blooming tree at my parents’ house at Lake Tillery. What I would give to be down there at one of my parents’ fun parties right now. 

Thursday — I ran in the sun, and I didn’t fall. I’ll take that as a win!

Friday— After playing the math games The Tots’ teachers assigned to them, I finally understand improper fractions. Thanks, Mrs. Greene and Mrs. Pegram! 

Remember that we are all in this together. Peace, love and wellness to all of you. 

Last week our pastor encouraged us to focus on four things: people, purpose, sadness and gladness. All four things are important, especially in a time of crisis, but the sadness and gladness part really resonated with me (and I also liked that it rhymed). 

            This week, sadness has been winning at our house. I tried to fight it, but when I fell on the sidewalk during my Monday morning run, I surrendered. In an effort to improve myself during our quarantine, I decided to extend my running route. About 20 yards into my new route, I fell nose first on the concrete. As I sat there surveying my scrapes, I wanted to cry so badly but I couldn’t, so I dusted myself off and ran home. 

            A little later, I saw that John Prine had been diagnosed with COVID-19, so I pulled up a performance for Hello in There, one of the most beautiful songs ever written. As Prine sang of old trees growing stronger, rivers growing wilder and old people growing lonesome, I lost it. The tears wouldn’t stop as I grieved my mother, my dad being alone, my kids missing school and so much more. 

            I suppose I can look at this as my official kickoff to sadness week, and that’s okay because I’m giving myself permission to let that happen. My kids miss going to school and seeing their friends. I miss working out with my friends, going to church and my dad coming over for dinner. My husband misses his normal work/home separation, big band rehearsals and being able to visit with his parents down the street. And we all miss the ability to eat a pizza in a restaurant — with other people sitting less than six feet away from us. 

            It’s easy to feel guilty while grieving these things when so many people are dealing with so much worse. When we first began making lifestyle changes due to the coronavirus, I’d glance at my sadness but quickly turn my mind to people in Italy or New York. How can I be sad when I’ve been ordered to hang out in my nice house, where my kids can learn and I can work? How can I be sad when I have books, food and Netflix (love Dolly Parton’s Heartstrings!)? How can I be sad when the birds still sing and the azaleas still bloom? 

            The answer is simple. Loss is loss. We’re all dealing with individual losses, as well as collective ones. Sure, there are different levels, but they’re all losses that result in an uneasy feeling that’s challenging to soothe. So this week, I’m embracing my losses and my sadness so that I can move ahead with helping others and recognizing my gladness. 

            Whether through silence, music, prayer, walking or reading, I’m giving myself time to heal so I can be strong for my family and whoever else might need me. It’s only Wednesday, and I’m feeling better. Maybe by Friday I’ll be ready to move on to gladness because there is so much to be glad about once you clear a pathway for it. 

            What a week! I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful for a Friday in my entire life. Though the news has been beyond daunting, there are still plenty of Winks out there. If you can’t see them, look harder because I swear to you that they’re there.  

            Please share your Winks on my site or on my social media pages. We can’t hear about goodness enough during these challenging times. Enjoy your weekend, wash your hands, breathe in the sunshine and call a friend. Here are this week’s Weekly Winks. 

Saturday — I listened to a 1982 Top 40 countdown while working in the yard. Good memories! 

Sunday— The Tots’ Sunday School teacher sent a lesson for them that involved watching a video of a hippo named Fiona at the Cincinnati Zoo. This little hippo’s story is super inspiring. Go Fiona!

Monday — During an early morning run, I could smell one of my neighbors cooking a fabulous breakfast. It made me run faster!

Tuesday— I interviewed an old timer from my hometown for a story (via phone), and he told me how to properly kill a chicken. At the rate things are going, that might come in handy. 

Wednesday— I found out that a friend’s tumor had shrunk. Yay!

Thursday — I sat on our patio reading for at least an hour in the early evening. Bliss!

Friday— Margot ran up to my office to tell me that our tulips finally bloomed. She borrowed my cell phone so she could take a picture of them for me (her idea). What a beautiful way to end the week!

Remember that we are all in this together. Peace and love to all of you. 

Anyone who knows me knows that I’ve never been the most technically savvy one in the bunch. I went to college in 1990 with an IBM Selectric and finally upgraded to a word processor my junior year. When everyone got Palm Pilots back in the ’90s, I stuck with paper, and I was one of the last ones to trade my bag phone in for a cell phone. To this day I refuse to wear an Apple watch, I still keep a paper calendar and I have a minimal number of apps on my phone. The fact that I have blog is comical from the tech side because I have no idea what all of my widgets can do. 

            Needless to say, I’ve always enjoyed my simpleton lifestyle, and then came the coronavirus. In a matter of days, I began Zooming and Looming while making up passwords for more websites and apps than I can remember. As someone who still writes checks (gasp!) for services, I had to bite the bullet and get Venmo. 

            Though I’m not thrilled with all of the screen time my children and I have had to put in due to our new sheltering in place lifestyle, I’m grateful. Can you imagine if this would have happened back in the 1970s or 1980s? We all would have had to peace out with a Tab and watch network television for a few months. Now with the Internet and, God forbid, social media, we’re able to connect and support one another, as we share tips and stories to get us through the most daunting period of our lifetime. 

            So even though I’m not as technically shrewd as an ECPI graduate, I’m proud that I can get my kids where they need to go online for school, peek in on the Cincinnati Zoo’s web cam, and pay any millennial or hip individual from my iPhone. It feels good to learn something new, albeit I was forced into it kicking and screaming with a hardback in my hand. 

            All of us have been thrown into a new lifestyle during the past week. I know it hasn’t been easy or fun, but we’re doing it, and that’s something to be proud of. When I figure something out on the computer for my kids, I get so excited. When I finish reading a book, I’m thankful I had the time to read. When I look at my yard, by far the biggest beneficiary of the coronavirus, I feel a sense of accomplishment. (Those wild onions are still wondering what happened to them.) 

            This isn’t at all how I thought 2020 would go. (Remember how much I hated 2019?) All the plans on my paper calendar have been scratched out to make room for Zoom play dates and workouts. Today John and I had planned to go with The Tots to Old Salem for their rite of passage fourth grade fieldtrip. Instead, we’re all working on laptops at home, dreaming of how good those Moravian cookies would have been. 

            Sure we’re disappointed, just like all the seniors out there who won’t have a prom or a graduation ceremony. It’s heartbreaking, and we need to own our bits of sadness in this, but we also need to realize that all of the new things we’re learning as we fight this virus will help us become a better society. 

            Will I complain about I-77 traffic as much when everything is back in working order? Okay, a little, but not nearly as much as I used to. Will I shy away from new computer programs? Probably not. Will I take for granted being able to hug my friends? No way. 

            With each new headline and challenge, we’re learning how to live more meaningful lives. I’m soaking up all that I can to prepare for a better normal than we ever could have imagined.

            Stay well!

Take as many deep breaths as you want. I’m trying to see every Wink possible right now, but it’s hard not to feel like we’re in a low budget, sci-fi movie. Yesterday, I had to go to the grocery store, and I was beyond thankful just to be in my car listening to music. I so wanted things to be the way they used to be, but as I began talking to a friend in the produce section (standing 20 feet apart), it was painfully obvious that we’re far from normal. 

            When I started this blog more than a year ago, I had no idea my mother would pass away so soon, and I certainly didn’t know that I would become an IT professional/Little House of the Prairie teacher due to a pandemic. For someone who battles anxiety on a daily basis, these events are like the NBA All-Star Game of worry and unease. I’m happy to say that I’m keeping it together, but I have my moments, and I think it’s so important that we talk about these moments. 

            I’ve been on social media way too much during the past week, and it’s wearing me down. I understand that we all have opinions to share and that right now social media is the best way of sharing them, but I also think we’re not sharing all that’s important in this. I’ve seen too few posts on people sharing what they’re really feeling. I understand the anger at politicians and fellow citizens who aren’t abiding by the rules, but I wish we felt comfortable enough with each other to share our deepest fears. That said, here goes. 

            I’m scared, really scared. I’m scared for my children, and I’m scared for my 83-year-old dad, as well as my in-laws. I’m scared for my friends who have cancer or any other kind of ailment that makes them more vulnerable to this virus. And I’m scared of how long it’s going to take us to get back to how we were when hand sanitizer was readily available. Will the normal that we loved still be there?

            I’ve only had one big cry so far (more to come, I’m sure), and that was when I sat on our patio to listen to our church’s Sunday sermon. In that moment, all the changes crystallized for me. I wanted to be in church. I wanted to see my friends. I wanted to go get breakfast after, and most of all I wanted my mom. 

            When 9/11 happened, I saw an interview with Laura Bush. The reporter asked her what she did when she heard the news about the towers. She answered that she called her daughters and then she called her mother. She didn’t call her mother to check in on her, she called her because she needed her mom. 

            Sunday morning as I listened to the birds chirp, oblivious to the coronavirus and the six-feet apart mandate, I wanted to talk to my mother more than anything. Before Alzheimer’s (and even some during it) I could talk to her about current events. My mother wasn’t a touchy feely kind of person. She had a hard upbringing that sealed her from sweating the small stuff, but as someone who read the paper from cover to cover every single day, she always knew what was going on. We would discuss things, and it made me feel better to know that I wasn’t alone in my concerns. 

            I know that I’m not alone now, but during something like this, it’s impossible not to feel isolated, physically and emotionally. While I’m enjoying being outside with my family and having time to do projects we’ve put off for way too long, I’m frightened about what our new normal will be. There’s hope in there as well because I think people are realizing that the human party is more important than political parties, and I also think we’ve been shown how much we take for granted. Those two realizations (and plenty of others that are a result of this) can only bring goodness. I take comfort in that when I feel alone, and I hope that you do, too. 

            So what Winks did you spot this week? Please share them on my site or on my social media pages. We can’t hear about goodness enough during these times (and in normal times, whatever that might look like). Stay well, wash your hands, breathe in the sunshine and call a friend. Here are this week’s Weekly Winks. 

Saturday— While I was yanking monkey grass out of our front yard, my sweet husband brought me a cherry bubly (nectar of the gods) without me even asking for one. Love that man of mine!

Sunday— Our church’s Sunday sermon was broadcast via radio and Facebook Sunday morning. John and I sat on the patio listening to it, and to our surprise, the service featured a baptism. What a gift to think about a new life blossoming amidst all of this chaos. 

Monday— My dear friend, Missy, called to check on me after I texted how anxious I was. 

Tuesday— John began working from home due to the coronavirus. I’m so grateful to have him here during the day. 

Wednesday— While lying on my new chaise lounge on our patio tonight, I tried to see the stars through the clouds. (One of my besties gave me this chair as a result of her move. I could not get through this pandemic without it! Thank you, Liz!)

Thursday— I went out to the patio to do my workout of the day (thanks to my awesome friend and trainer, Julie). As I was setting up my mat, a yellow butterfly fluttered by me. My mom came to see me on the first day of spring! I can’t tell you how much I needed that Wink. Love you forever, mom. 

Friday— I walked into the dining room this morning to find Jefferson, one of our tabby cats, sitting on John’s lap while he was on a conference call. 

As you continue social distancing this weekend, remember that we are all in this together. Peace and love to all of you. 

            My daughter loves those little excavation kits where a toy is packaged in a shape made out of sand. She carefully chisels the sand away to get to the prize. As I digest how much our daily lives have changed in the past week and will continue to change, I think about Margot chiseling away sand until she gets to the mermaid, which is of paramount importance to a 10-year-old girl (second only to unicorns). In so many ways the coronavirus and the adjustments that come with it are doing the same thing to our lives. 

            With each day, we’re chiseling away more sand to discover what’s really important. Any other spring we’d be talking about basketball brackets, spring break and summer camps. Now we’re texting friends to find out if they need anything while we make a quick run to the store. Instead of worrying about our kids’ word checks and upcoming EOGs, we’re collecting food for those most vulnerable students who depend on school more for a safe haven than an education. 

            Scraping away the sand allows us to see things we normally don’t take or have the time to see. Last night my son and I were snuggling when he said to me, “I kind of like this because I can pay more attention.” Graydon went on to say that he liked not rushing around to activities and being in a hurry. I had to agree with him. It’s nice having the time to soak in the moments of the day instead of frantically anticipating what’s next. I desperately want to hold onto that when this is all over. 

            When I drop off our kids at school, I want to remember the days when I couldn’t. When I meet a friend for coffee, I want to remember when I could only text her. When I pass the peace at church, I want to remember sitting on my patio listening to the sermon. If I don’t, I’m missing the gift of perspective that this virus is spreading. That’s a symptom I don’t mind contracting. 

            During the past few years, I’ve made a conscious effort to practice gratitude. I’m by no means on Oprah’s level with this, but I’m so thankful for my life. Last summer when my mother was dying, I was grateful to spend a couple of hours at the pool with my kids, something I would have taken for granted prior. Just having a conversation with a friend about something as silly as sandals was a treat in the midst of Hospice visits. I learned so many lessons when cancer hijacked our normal, and I treasure those lessons as much as I treasure my last moments with mom. 

            One of the most important lessons I learned is how adaptable human beings are. Look around at people who have been thrown huge curves — a child with cancer, a family who lost their home to a fire, a young wife who lost her husband in an accident. They didn’t ask for these challenges, but they rise to meet them, just as we are all rising to combat a virus that is paralyzing our world. None of us asked for this, but here we are, left to work together to survive a public health crisis. 

            We have no idea how long this will last, and that’s scary, bizarre and disturbing all at once. I just hope that when the shelves are full at the grocery store again, we can keep this sense of community that ironically grew from our separation. We need to realize that even when we’re not facing a pandemic, we’re all in this life together, scraping away sand to see a better day. 

            Let’s all just take a deep breath, followed by a few more deep breaths. Needless to say, this week has been surreal, fascinating, scary and everything in between. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what has happened already regarding the coronavirus, as well as what the next couple of weeks might look like. 

            Navigating a pandemic is new for all of us, and I know it’s difficult to see the Winks of Goodness that are out there right now, but I also know that it’s more important than ever for us to not only see them but embrace them. One of the things my daughter and I have been discussing during all of this is how connected the world truly is. 

            People constantly talk about our global economy, but this public health crisis illustrates our global community. We are all humans, and we are all connected when it comes to the business of living. When this crisis subsides, I hope that we can remember that and empathize more with each other’s life experiences. Maybe that’s the silver lining we need to focus on. In the meantime, here are this week’s Weekly Winks. 

            Every Friday I share the Winks of Goodness I experienced throughout the week because I’ve found that writing down and formally acknowledging these suckers gives them more power. I encourage you to share your own Weekly Winks on my site or on social media. Look around and write them down — share the goodness.   

Saturday — I had 4.5-hour dinner with a special friend I’ve known since second grade. There’s something wonderful about having a friend who’s known you for so long. 

Sunday— Margot and I went to a Girl Scout event celebrating the 100^th anniversary of women’s suffrage. When an older scout asked her who one of her female heroes was, she answered Susan B. Anthony. We can never forget what the women before us went through to give us the rights we enjoy today. 

Monday — Margot started guitar lessons — with a pink guitar no less. 

Tuesday— When I walked onto our front stoop this morning, a delightful breeze greeted me. You all know how much I love a good breeze. (Read my August 14, 2019 entry titled The Breeze if you don’t.)

Wednesday— I caught a glimpse of the moon through our stairwell window as I walked upstairs to wake The Tots for school. It’s nice to be reminded of how small we are in the universe. 

Thursday — Three Winks today: I had a delicious lunch with some great friends. These are some of the strongest, smartest and funniest women I know. I saw a dog riding in the passenger cart of a motorcycle. And I saw two people riding horses on the sidewalk in downtown Davidson. 

Friday— The Tots are already figuring out ways to entertain themselves at home. This morning I walked in on them hitting a balloon back and forth across the living room with tennis rackets. 

Have a good weekend, wash your hands and remember that we are all in this together. 

            There’s a cartoon meme floating around social media that features teachers rolling out TVs for the ACC Tournament in the classroom. Obviously these educators are from North Carolina because basketball is as sacred as sweet tea here (brewed sweet tea, not that stuff that comes in a bottle). 

            When I saw these memes, I immediately remembered my teachers doing just that, along with which classmates pulled for NC State and which ones pulled for Carolina. (I still remember crying on an activity bus after listening to Syracuse knock Carolina out of the Sweet Sixteen on the radio in 1987. I have trouble pulling for Syracuse to this day.)

            While March Madness offers incredible basketball, the feeling of community is my favorite part about the ACC Tournament (beginning today) followed by “The Big Dance,” the NCAA Tournament. I don’t watch a lot of games during the season, but when March Madness comes around, I keep the TV on. I might not even watch the game, but I adore the sound of squeaky sneakers, referee whistles, chanting crowds and pep bands. I even like hearing the NCAA Tournament theme song. 

            As a native, it makes sense. North Carolina is basketball country. I called I-40 Tobacco Road way before I realized that it was I-40. The magic road that connects our state’s basketball constellation (Wake Forest, Duke, UNC Chapel Hill and NC State) is paved with phenomenal victories (NC State’s Jim Valvano running across the court after winning the 1983 NCAA Championship) and devastating defeats (UNC’s loss to Villanova in the 2016 NCAA Championship game). Throughout the years all four of North Carolina’s teams have been powerhouses, and that’s saying a lot for one conference, especially one that started with just seven teams. 

            When I was growing up, the ACC Tournament began at noon on Friday. If a teacher wanted to get anything in our brains, they knew the deadline. Even if they didn’t bring a TV in, our minds were too filled with visions of free throws and fouls to have room for much else. And let’s face it, the teachers were into it, too. That’s the beauty of March Madness. You don’t have to know anything about basketball to get into the excitement. And isn’t that something we all need now?

            With politics and the coronavirus taking up so much of our bandwidth, it’s nice to take a time out and focus on something fun. We know the world has problems — big problems — but sometimes one of the best ways to face or solve problems is by stepping away for a little while. We need a break, and that’s what March Madness gives us. 

            Instead of worrying about delegates or someone shaking your hand, you can focus on brackets and plays. I love learning about all the schools in the tournament. I love rooting for an underdog (as long as they’re not playing my Tar Heels). I love the team-themed bakery goods at Harris Teeter, and I love hearing the stories about the various players and coaches who have overcome impossible odds to play on these courts. It’s the human experience all rolled into one game, and it’s a positive way for us to connect as a community. That sounds like a win-win to me. Go Heels!

           

            The first week of March is in the books, which means the ACC Tournament can’t be far away (FYI, it starts on Tuesday). A big thank you to all of my teachers through the years who wheeled TVs into the classroom so we could watch the tournament. Back then, there were fewer teams in our conference, and the games began on Friday at noon. Talk about an education! Anyway, I hope your team plays well as long as they’re not playing my Tar Heels, and I hope you enjoy this week’s Weekly Winks. 

            Every Friday I share the Winks of Goodness I experienced throughout the week because I’ve found that writing down and formally acknowledging these suckers gives them more power. I encourage you to share your own Weekly Winks on my site or on social media. Look around and write them down — share the goodness.   

Saturday— Our family went to the Souper Bowl, an annual soup fest that benefits the Davidson Housing Coalition. This is one of the most delicious events of the year, and we always see friends, new and old, there. The best part is that it helps people who desperately need help.

Sunday— The most precious one-month-old baby boy sat in front of us at church. I promise that I listened to the sermon, but it was hard not to stare at this little bundle of joy the whole time. 

Monday— I walked into our bedroom to find our two tabby cats, Jefferson and Hamilton, truly sitting “crisscross applesauce.” These two brothers could not love each other more. 

Tuesday— It was warm and breezy during my run, and near the end, it began to rain. There’s nothing more rejuvenating that running in the rain. 

Wednesday— I discovered that a new friend’s husband grew up near where I did. Our high schools even played each other in sports. In an area brimming with transfers, it’s nice to find a native unicorn once in a while. 

Thursday— I learned that Linda Bloodworth-Thomason, the genius who created one of my favorite shows of all time (Designing Women), has written a Designing Women play. Julia Sugarbaker is my spirit animal, and I can’t wait to see what she’s been up to. Someone bring this to Charlotte!

Friday— The Tots’ classes presented their Mountain Sharing today, which is a wonderful tribute to North Carolina and its beautiful mountains. Oh how I love my Tots, and oh how I love my state. 

Happy weekend! Go Heels!