RIP Uncle Gary – CoronaLife Day 299

We lost my Uncle Gary to COVID a few days ago. My aunt and uncle were hospitalized with it December 21st. The first few days seemed like they both were making progress. Then my uncle took a turn for the worse, and the deterioration was swift. Due to COVID restrictions, his family could not be at his side as he passed, an additional burden to the grief they bear.

Most of my memories of my Uncle Gary are from my childhood, before their family moved farther away and we didn’t see them very much. As a result, the memories are rather vague. I remember him as a dark-haired man with twinkling eyes behind his glasses, and I always seem to remember him smiling or laughing.

He could be warm, but he was also a private man, so I suppose it is not surprising that I did not know him very well as an adult, combined with all the time living farther away. He was a Vietnam veteran, and like many of those soldiers, I suspect the war never quite left him. Although proud of his service, I always have trouble picturing him as a soldier, because I always felt he had a gentle soul.

Like me, he was interested in genealogy, although of course his family was not mine (his wife is my blood relative). His line was German, and he read and spoke German well. My line is also German and when I ran into a document that needed translating, he helped me out.

When the Pentagon was attacked on 9/11, he walked for miles from his job in locked-down central DC until he could find transportation home–a now white-haired man just wanting to get home to the family he loved.

And he did deeply love his family. That was always crystal clear. His wife, his sons, and his grandson meant the world to him. They will miss him more than words can say.

The virus stole another soul this week, and we mourn his loss. Godspeed, Uncle Gary.

Happy New Year 2021 – CoronaLife Day 292

I think I speak for many people when I say there has never been a year I wanted to see the back of more than 2020. This year has lasted a decade, and I can’t wait to turn the page.

Having had a milestone birthday this year (thanks, 2020!), I am old enough to know that turning the calendar doesn’t magically make all our problems disappear. But it is a time to reset and take the lessons learned in the previous year and carry them forward.

So what have I learned in 2020? First, I learned that there are many things out of my control. This year was certainly a lesson in that, if nothing else. The coronavirus took any plans we had for this year and dumped them into the incinerator. The sphere of what I can actually control is a lot smaller than my ego would like to think it is.

Second, sometimes I have to just let things go. My anxiety disorder has been in overdrive this year, and that wreaks havoc on my writing. My creativity vanishes into the malaise. And I have to be okay with that, because there’s not much I can do about it. My creativity has been a roller coaster this year. I have days, even a week at a time, where the words come and I drive forward. Then a desert for weeks. I have had to learn to not beat myself up over that (a lesson I am still learning).

Third, I have had to learn to be less of an introvert. Wait, wait, wait, I hear you saying. You are stuck home, rarely going out, seeing nobody outside your family. How does that make you LESS of an introvert?

It is counter-intuitive, I grant you. I am an introvert’s introvert. I need alone time to recharge. And by alone time, I mean completely alone, no one else in the house. Not in another room, not on another floor, but not here AT ALL. Since March I have had both my daughter and my husband home 24/7. I love them dearly and I am so grateful we have the ability to be safe together. But I have had to get used to much less alone time (read: none), and figure out how to recharge anyway.

Fourth, it has highlighted many of the inequities that are baked into our country, and the desperate need to address them moving forward. I for one do not want to simply “go back to normal” because so much of what was normal was not working. This year that has shaken the world to the foundation has not merely exposed the cracks we have been papering over for decades, it wrenched those cracks wide open. We need to do better. Business as usual is no longer acceptable.

Finally, it has been a lesson in gratitude. I know, without a doubt, that my family has been incredibly lucky throughout this year. We have been able to work from home with no loss of income, and our immediate extended family have so far come through physically unscathed. For all the things we missed and were saddened to not have or do this year, we still have the people that we love, and that is everything.

I intend to take those lessons and go forward into 2021 knowing that we still have a long road ahead of us. None of the problems we face will vanish with the ball drop. But if we truly learn the lessons of 2020, we can make 2021 the beginning of something new, different, and better.

And by the end of the year, I might even get to be alone in the house again.

I wish all of you and your loved ones a healthy, happy, and much, much better 2021. Be safe, and have a Happy New Year.

And The Stockings Were Hung—CoronaLife Day 285

You are reading this on Christmas Eve, but I wrote it on Christmas Eve Eve. We are rolling into the holiday, and for once I am actually on top of things. Well, my Christmas cards only just arrived today, so they will not go out until after Christmas, but it’s actually pretty normal for me to not have them go out before Christmas, so I’m not concerned. I figure it just helps extend the Christmas season, LOL.

The presents are wrapped and under the tree. Our little family is tucked in tight against the coronavirus. Our Christmas dinner is in the fridge waiting to be cooked. Cookies will be made sometime on Christmas Eve.

We got to see the great conjunction tonight. A few days past its prime, but we had clouds the last two nights. We got out the binoculars and the telescope and saw the pretty sight until a bank of clouds rolled over them. But I am content that we saw it, even for a short time. There is a beauty in the dance of the stars that removes you from the cares of this world.

Christmas is my favorite holiday, and even this year I am feeling a bit of peace. I often stop and admire the tree, which I think we got just right this year. My family, although not all together, is all healthy and safe. My mom-in-law has been with us since before Thanksgiving so we could all celebrate together safely. And we have been incredibly lucky to escape the economic fallout of this pandemic, as we had the ability to work from home.

2020 has not been kind to a lot of people, and my Christmas wish is for them to find peace and the help they need to get back on their feet. To those grieving a lost loved one, I hope they find comfort. And I hope all of us find a truly happier, healthier year in 2021.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year to all.

Warm & Fuzzy – CoronaLife Day 278

Christmas is my favorite time of year. Even this year, which has been missing some of the traditions of the season, still gives me a glow. I stop and look at our beautiful tree every now and then. We mixed white lights and colored lights and this year I think we got the mix perfect.

It’s also snowing, and I don’t know about you, but my brain kicks into “snow day” mode when that happens. I don’t feel much like working or doing anything except watching the snow fall until I inadvertently take a nap.

I’m really looking forward to Christmas break this year. Normally this break is a time of year to spend more time with family, but since we are all home 24/7 since March, that part of it will not change. However, taking a break from remote schooling will be nice, and sleeping in is good any time of year.

Will I get any writing done over the break? I’d love to say yes, but past history of the rest of this year says no. It’s been a difficult year, writing-wise for me, and I see no reason why Christmas break will change that. But perhaps I will have a Christmas miracle and get some words on the page.

Right now, I am in a warm, fuzzy, snowy, Christmas-y mood, and that means no real productivity at the moment. For me, that’s part of this time of year—an ability, perhaps even a permission, to remove yourself from the regular hustle and bustle of life. As a kid, I used to take a book and sit next to the tree and read by the colored lights. My daughter likes to lay behind/under the tree and just stare up through the branches. Placing yourself in a different world is part of the magic of the season.

And maybe, after the year we’ve slogged through, that’s what we need. A moment to be outside this world and all its cares and woes. We can’t escape it long, not as adults, but if we can grab enough of those moments of peace, maybe we can emerge from this Christmas season refreshed, ready to face 2021 with whatever it brings.

No matter what holiday you celebrate, I want to wish everyone peace and joy. We certainly all deserve it, after the year we have had.

Milestone Birthday – CoronaLife Day 271

The year 2020 has been a weird, difficult year, so I guess my having a milestone birthday during it is rather appropriate. As this interminable year drags to a close, I have closed out the first half-century of my life.

It’s kind of a weird feeling, reaching fifty, because I really don’t feel fifty. I mean, I am fifty so I guess this is what fifty feels like, but it’s not really what I pictured. Fifty was OLD. Now it’s not old. It just middlin’.

There came a time, at least for me, where age became just a number. I never was much of a birthday celebrator once childhood passed, and frankly, I would be just as happy to let it pass unheralded. But my daughter is, for some reason, excessively excited about celebrating my birthday, so we are having some cupcakes and presents and a special meal (that I am not making). She even allowed me the honor of opening the Advent calendar today, and putting together the Lego piece inside it (our calendar is Lego Harry Potter).

Every birthday is a time for reflection, and fifty is even more so. With the year we have behind us, I am grateful to still be here, and that all my loved ones are healthy and safe. I am not where I thought I would be when I turned fifty, and there is some regret in that, but I have a good life. While some career goals have not been reached, there is still time, and the more important life goals like a husband and child I love and am proud of have been achieved.

It’s a long time, fifty times around the sun, and I have seen many things in those 5 decades. This year has broken my heart in a thousand ways, but I have also seen the tremendous goodness and kindness people are capable of, and the things people can achieve when they work together in good faith. I have lived long enough to know that hard times pass, if we hang on long enough. The inevitability of change is, rather ironically, the only thing in life that never changes.

Be safe, be smart, so you all will be here for my next trip around the sun.

The Aquarium Wars Continue—CoronaLife Day 264

It’s been a pretty quiet week following our unusually quiet Thanksgiving. My main excitement—and one I could do without—was a resumption of my fighting ammonia spikes in our aquarium.

We have one fish. One puny little 2-inch fish. Little orange guppy named Zippy. He has proven to be pretty hardy, having survived the initial ammonia spike starting November 8th, when we got him and two others. His two tank mates died from a combination of the ammonia and a mouth fungus. But Zippy survived.

Our tank settled for a while, but the ammonia continued to creep up too high every day. For a while it would go up to 0.5, and I would change out the water and put in chemicals. I even installed a new sponge filter with air pump to increase filtration, which will hopefully bring the ammonia under control once it gets established.

Instead, the ammonia went crazy (coincidentally, not to do with the new filter). Spiking up to 1.0 every few hours. The recommended way to remove excess ammonia is to change out some water. At one point I changed out 6 gallons of water a day—and we only have a 5-gallon tank! This could not go on.

Upon advice from an author friend who is also an experienced aquarium person, I did what felt counter-intuitive. I stopped changing out the water. My friend said changing out so much water might have “broken” the bio filer cycle, because while it gets ammonia out, it also removes the good bacteria that eats the ammonia. So she said to leave the water but bomb it with nitrifying bacteria (“good bacteria”). Put in many times the recommended amount. So at my daughter’s bedtime, I changed out half the water in the tank and then I poured in 4 capfuls of the bacteria (and a capful of the ammonia detoxifier). Four hours later, when I went to bed, I put in another capful of ammonia detoxifier and another 4 capfuls of the bacteria. Then I went to bed and hoped Zippy would still be alive in the morning.

Zippy almost gave me a heart attack in the morning, because I couldn’t find him in the tank. Often that means they died and are laying on the bottom somewhere, obscured by gravel, shells, etc. But I found him eventually, hiding half-asleep behind his favorite plant. Whew!

I tested the water, fearful the ammonia would be sky-high. Instead it was 0.25—normal for my tank (although it should be 0, but never has been in 3 years). I could hardly believe it. I tested the water every 2 hours the rest of the day, and so far it has stayed at 0.25. I did add more bacteria and more ammonia detoxifier a few times through the day.

So, fingers crossed the ammonia stays stable. Poor Zippy has been through a lot, and frankly I am shocked he is not dead. It would be nice if he could just enjoy his tank without my constant intrusions for a while. And our water bill will be much lower!

So how have you spent this week that transitions us into December?

Thanksgiving 2020 – CoronaLife Day 257

The year 2020 has been brutal for a lot of people. The world is in a tailspin and division in America has never been higher. The pandemic has sickened millions and killed more than 268,000 people in the USA. Many people are out of work, facing food hardships and eviction in the middle of winter. This is a year most people will be thankful to forget.

Still, there are things to be thankful for in my life. My family is healthy, even if we are not together in the traditional way this Thanksgiving. We are secure in food supply and in our home. My daughter is able to attend school remotely, and therefore safely, even as COVID cases spike to levels higher than we saw at the beginning of the pandemic in March.

I am thankful for friends to help ride out the isolation, and the technology to keep friends and family close even when apart. I am thankful for the services that allow us to get food and other necessities delivered to our homes. I am thankful for the vast amount of entertainment at our fingertips to while away the hours. And I am thankful for stretches of good weather that allow us to get outside the house to exercise safely distanced from others.

I am thankful to the scientists who are swiftly accumulating knowledge about this coronavirus that we may better battle it, and who are working to get us safe and effective vaccines to end this nightmare. I am more grateful than words can say to the healthcare professionals who are shouldering the brunt of this burden while sacrificing so much. And I am thankful for all the citizens who are acting as firewalls as the virus burns through our country, wearing their masks properly, respectfully distancing, staying home whenever possible, and giving up so much to try and stem the viral tide.

I am thankful for all the goodness and kindness I have seen people doing in this horrid year. The sometimes small things that make a huge difference, such as shopping for an at-risk neighbor, working at food banks, and donating money to causes that help those in need.

That is what I am going to try to take away from 2020. The good that lies in the hearts of so many people. I don’t want to remember the vitriol and the hate and the fear. I want to remember the love.

For all that I have been jaded by a half-century on this planet, there’s still a part of me that wants to believe that in the end light drives out darkness and that love conquers all.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Making Life Manageable—CoronaLife Day 250

First, because I know you are all waiting breathlessly, Zippy the fish is still alive as of this writing. I’m still keeping a close eye on the ammonia levels, and changing out water a couple of times a day, but it’s fairly stable.

Second, I am deep cleaning my house. No, not because of COVID exposure–because it badly needs it. It has been bugging me for a while now, but I haven’t had the motivation to actually embark on what seemed an insurmountable project.

I am not the neatest person in the world. (My mother will snort diet Pepsi out her nose when reading that understatement.) I am MUCH neater than I was when I was younger, mostly out of necessity. (When you reach a certain age, having specific places for things cuts down on the “where-did-I-put-that” moments.) I keep up with the must-cleans—bathrooms, kitchen, laundry. You know. But the rest of my house can go a while between good scrubbings. We are far from filthy, but I will not be winning any Good Housekeeping awards. And with a child who somehow manages to leave a trail behind her everywhere she goes, it is a bit of a Sisyphean task to start with.

However, when properly motivated, I can get a lot done quickly. That motivation is usually in the form of a parental unit coming over. We are not doing a Thanksgiving gathering in the Year of COVID, but my mother-in-law will be coming up to stay with us until the New Year. (We are all quarantining for 14 days prior to her arrival.) Nothing like a visitor to make you see the dust on the unused surfaces and the stuff stashed in corners for you to sort through “later”. Well, later is now.

We got rid of several bags of stuff, with more to go. Rooms are neat, carpets are clean, surfaces are shiny. Did I get every nook and cranny? No. There’s always more to do. Every time you clean something, the thing next to it starts to look dirty. But it is miles ahead of where I was at the beginning of the week.

Decluttering and heavy cleaning has made me feel a bit better (psychologically—physically it has reminded me that I am approaching a certain milestone birthday). The one good thing about cleaning is that when you have finished a room, you have that instant gratification of a job well done. And you’d best take that gratification instantly, because the next minute someone tracks in a leaf particle or a dust bunny hops in or crumbs somehow magically appear.

I tackled this huge job by breaking it down into smaller jobs—one room a day. By making it manageable, I could break that mental barrier down and get started, get it done. I tend to do this with my writing, too. I tell myself to just do one chapter, whether it be drafting or editing. Makes it feel achievable. With the writing, I usually end up doing more than one chapter, once I start.

Not so much with the cleaning. 😉

Whatever task you are facing that seems huge this holiday season, break it into its component parts. Make each one manageable, and savor the victory of each piece completed. You’ll be done before you know it!

Fish # 12, 13, and 14 – CoronaLife Day 243

So after the great fish die-off last week, we went back to the store on Sunday for 3 more fish. We agreed not to name them until we saw if they survived. This time we carefully did not put any of the store water into our tank. We got them safely in, and this time I was on top of testing. And wouldn’t you know, the ammonia in the water spiked almost immediately!

We fought the ammonia frenetically. Added bacteria, ammonia-locking chemicals, and changed water like mad. At night, I threw in an emergency ammonia tablet, hoping some of the fish would survive the night.

Miraculously, all three survived the night, and I changed out water immediately that morning. But only 2 of the 3 fish ate any of the food I put in. The smallest was lethargic, hiding in corners. We sensed that this one was not going to make it—and we were right. By mid-afternoon, fish #12 had died. Daughter shed a few tears: “He was a good listener. He would sit there and listen while I talked.” She told me that if he had lived, he was going to be the next in the long line of Seashells we’ve had.

The other 2 fish seemed okay, swimming around rather vigorously when the ammonia levels dropped after a water change. I tested the water and changed water every 2 hours the entire day. The ammonia levels dropped and stayed dropped, although not quite perfect yet. Then the second night was upon us, and I used another emergency tablet overnight.

The next morning (Tuesday), both fish were still alive, and the ammonia levels had dropped a bit more overnight. However, one of the fish was acting badly. Not energetic anymore—and his mouth looked white. He did not eat, even when the food particles floated right past him. This fish already had slight tail-rot, so against my own advice I had started calling him Holey. Holey’s behavior deteriorated throughout the day. Then, in late afternoon, Holey died—and my daughter saw it happen.

My daughter was distraught. “He was a trooper. He tried so hard to stay with me, because he knew I wanted him to. He was swimming sideways. I sang to him, because I knew he wanted me to.” She insisted that his name was not Holey, but Holy “without the e” because it suited his personality. Many tears were shed over this fish and witnessing his demise.

I felt bad about Holy because I wonder if I had been more aggressive with the medicine that protects against tail rot and mouth fungus if I could have saved him. We have had fish survive tail rot before, but we’ve never had mouth fungus. I realized belatedly that the first fish had also had that crazy white mouth before its death. I had put the medicine in the water, but I know I missed a few times. If I had been aggressive with it, perhaps Holy would not have gotten the mouth fungus, since he was fine the day prior. But hindsight is 20-20, and I will never know the answer to my wondering.

So that left us with fish #14, who my daughter named Zippy. “Zippy comforted Holy. He’s a kind, good fish.”

Today is Wednesday, and I have tested the water every 2 hours. The ammonia has stabilized at a good level, and I have not changed water as frequently. Zippy had been scratching himself against things, indicating his skin was irritated from the ammonia. I added lots of a liquid that sooths and heals the slime coat. He stopped scratching a few hours later and has been swimming around all levels of the tank (they stick to the top when ammonia is high), so that seems good. Although he did not eat when I fed his this morning, I caught him grazing on the moss ball and algae later in the day, and he gobbled up a flake of food knocked loose when I changed the water.

As of this writing, he seems happy, and his mouth is not white. I have been crashing the tank with the medicine, as well as the ammonia detoxifier and nitrifying bacteria. It seems stable. We shall see if Zippy escapes the mouth fungus scourge.

Fingers crossed for Zippy.

The Great Fish Die-Off of 2020 – CoronaLife Day 236

Those of you who have followed my blog for a while know we have had quite a few adventures in fish-keeping. We have a small 5-gallon tank, and have kept about 3 guppies at a time in there, give or take a few dying. We have had 8 guppies so far, and the last one died just before the coronavirus lockdown started. So our tank has been empty a long time.

Because of that, it took a while to get the tank properly cycled and safe for new fish. Finally, after about 8 months, the water tested perfectly for multiple days, and we went and got fish #9, 10, and 11. My daughter was very excited to have friends in her tank again! She named them Moonlight, Starlight, and MiniSeashell 2.

We got them home, popped them in the tank…and immediately knew there was a problem. Starlight was acting weird, “vertical hanging”, which we have seen before and never bodes well. Sure enough, he died within the hour. The others seemed okay, so we went downstairs to watch a movie. When we came back up, the other two were dead.

My daughter was upset to lose all her fish within a few hours, and I was baffled. Our water was perfect, what could the problem have been? I decided they all must have been sick with something from the store, because what else could it be?

The next morning, I changed out about 2 gallons of water, put in fresh water, as I always do when there has been a fish death in the tank. A few hours later, I tested the water, since I was planning to buy more fish that day to try again.

The mystery was unexpectedly solved.

Ammonia is deadly to fish—they suffocate. My tank water the day before (and several days prior) had tested at 0, both at home and at the store. That morning, it tested at 2.0 ammonia. That’s AFTER I had changed out almost half the tank, so it had probably been closer to 4.0. Deadly.

The only place it could have come from was the store’s water. Those poor fish had already been poisoned before we bought them. If I had not dumped that water into our tank, at least 2 of them may have recovered. But I didn’t know. It never occurred to me that the store’s water might be toxic. The fish never stood a chance.

I know better now. Once again I am cycling my tank to get the water fit for fish. This time, no water from the store will enter my tank. And hopefully the fish won’t be poisoned before we even get them home.

WP-Backgrounds Lite by InoPlugs Web Design and Juwelier Schönmann 1010 Wien