First COVID-era Vacation And I Am Excited!

For a few months late last year, my husband and I were actively discussing selling our 2012 travel trailer. Our thought process was that we now lived in the coastal area we used to frequently visit by RV, our international travel was continuing to consume large chunks of our time, and our granddaughters lived on the opposite coast, necessitating that we fly, not RV, to visit them as often as we did.

Oh my how the world has changed. 

So, yes, we are very, very glad we did not sell our travel trailer, and we are very much looking forward to taking it south an hour's drive, down to San Diego next week with our daughter and two granddaughters. Our timing should be good in that we leave on Sunday, the last day our beaches are scheduled to be closed for the 4th of July holiday weekend. So our plan for the week is lots of swimming pool and beach time, both activities accessible by foot via the two different RV parks we'll be staying at. Pretty much what we've been doing here during their visit, but much more exciting when done from a camping trailer . . . just ask my five year old granddaughter, who is practically beside herself with excitement.

Other 'exciting' activities will be getting take-out from In N Out Burger, and Rubio's . . . oh the life we live during a pandemic!

No, actually, it should be a whole lot of fun. Our two RV sites have large expanses of open grass to run around on, plus one of them has a tree that can be climbed. We're also bringing along a horseshoe game, a new deck of Go Fish cards, oodles of beach paraphernalia, s'more fixings, and scooters for both girls. I'm anticipating a good time will be had by all, and my house will appreciate the break from being overrun by two very happy, but energetic and messy, little girls.

A bit later this month we are heading north just a half hour to RV with them yet again at Newport Dunes RV Resort. This place is a child's delight - it has a long, uncrowded beach, a large bay filled with water toys, plus a nearby bird estuary just begging to be explored by kayak. 

With 14 days of their visit behind us, and just 28 days to go, suddenly time is starting to zoom by, and this Nana is already wondering how she's ever going to be able to say 'goodbye' when it's time for them to depart. My oldest granddaughter, the five year old, in particular. She is heart of my heart, and the feeling appears to be mutual in that she recently, and very solemnly, informed her mama that she loved her 'medium,' because she loved her Nana 'the most.' 

 💓 💗 💖

An Extrovert's Experience With Social Distancing

Recently my husband and I were asked to give a talk to our spiritual community about the impact social distancing has had on us. Yesterday was the day, and we gave the talks virtually, via Zoom.com, from the comfort of our separate offices. And based on the facial expressions we were able to observe from various attendees while giving our respective talks, they seemed to go over well, so yeah! 

Because I was just a tiny bit nervous about the whole thing.

Anyhow, I wanted to save my talk as another memory of this crazy pandemic year, so I thought I'd share it here. Therefore, consider yourself warned, and proceed at your own risk! 😁

An Extrovert's Experience With Social Distancing

Good morning everyone, and thank you so much for the opportunity to share a little bit about what being thrust into the realm of social distancing has meant to me.

First, to provide a little context as to where I was mentally back then.  We had just returned home from a five week cruise, the literally epitome of a situation that did NOT involve social distancing. However, within 10 days of our return home on March 7, Orange County enacted Shelter In Place provisions. The date, to be exact was March 17, and it is emblazoned in my mind. Emblazoned because it really did prove to be that traumatic to this incurable extrovert.

Extrovert meaning that I derive my energy from being around people. 

So those first weeks of social distancing were pretty rough. In reading back through the journal I kept during that time, it’s very clear that I essentially traveled through the five stages of grief as I worked to adjust; meaning denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. 

So here is how each of those stages went:

Stage One, Denial - Otherwise known as  ‘I can’t believe this is happening!’ as I read through first our county, then our subsequent state mandates of what was no longer allowed. So, no more concerts, plays, dinner dates, family get togethers, outdoor physical activity get togethers? Seriously? How would I function???

Stage Two, Anger - My thoughts ran the gamut - Why didn’t we come to this better prepared as a nation? Why didn’t we shut down international travel sooner, inner-state travel, heck even intra-state travel? Who’s fault is this! Let’s find them so we can tell them how mad we are!

And of course, with no real ability to do that, I did the next best thing and became mad at my spouse instead. I mean, honestly, if I apologized once for my anger and grouchiness, I apologized a dozen times. At one point I think I just turned to him and said, ‘How about if I just apologize now for all the times I’m going to probably do something necessitating an apology in the future?’

Thank goodness I married a very forgiving man.

Stage Three, Bargaining - This is when I kept looking for ways to push the envelope just a bit. ‘How about if we go walking at the beach but we wear our masks? Let’s go the supermarket, but wear our masks. How about if we pick up take out, but we’ll eat it elsewhere? How about if we invite friends to a park, but sit six feet apart?’

I found ways to make all of those work, in order to have even fleeting interactions with other people. Because staying safely at home was simply not an option. I literally needed the energy of other people in order to feel alive. 

Stage Four, Depression - I genuinely suffered as a result of having to drastically curtail my interactions with society at large. Without the spark of interacting with people on an ongoing and regular basis, there were days that felt like I was literally shriveling up and slowly dying. Not because being alone was boring - I had plenty to do at home. But without the energy of other people, it increasingly became meaningless. 

Stage Five, Acceptance - The stage, thankfully, where I am now, and which coincided with the reopening of some of our public spaces back in May. The first thing I did when that happened was to go walking down to the beach. And the simple act of walking 6 ft. away from, and yet still in and among other people was, well, kind of magical. . 

So what has my take away been from this whole process with regard to altering my life to accommodate and accept that social distancing is very likely here for a good long time to come? 

That I need people in my life, even if from a distance of six feet.   Because without them, my life quickly became meaningless. And it is as simple, and as powerful, and as significant as that.

Five Thursday Thankful Things

I am piggybacking on a weekly blog post that the wonderful Kristen of The Frugal Girl has been running since the pandemic began to turn our lives upside down - a weekly post of gratitude. The timing works nicely as well, because Thursday is just about when I begin to run out of steam from the new realities of life, before being uplifted once again over the weekend by the friends and family we generally are able to see and enjoy, even if from a six to eight foot distance.

So I am going to work to make this a weekly occurrence, and I hope you will comment and add to the feel-good party here.

Five Things I Am Thankful For This Week

1)  The beach at low tide. Walking along the sand is so much nicer than staying on the close-by beach path for a variety of reasons - easier physical distancing, cooler temps (yes, even a few feet can make a big difference on warm days), and the chance to be up close and personal with our marine life. Yesterday I walked seven miles, and it successfully blew away the pretty bad case of the COVID-blahs I had when I arrived.

2)  A loving and patient husband. That case of the COVID-blahs above? Yeah, unfortunately he bore the brunt of them until I got myself over to the ocean for a walk. The stress of COVID is real, and every so often it piles up on me, generally after a night or two of lousy, post-menopause sleep. Consistently he manages to not take my crabbiness personally, and just keeps on loving me. I am more thankful to him for this than I can properly express.

There are days when I definitely don't deserve this guy.

3)  The local winery we just joined. It's only a couple of miles away, it's in the adorable historic walking section of San Juan Capistrano, the help staff is super friendly, the seating is outside, the tables are set far apart, the food is delicious, and the wine is free. What's not to love?

Their roasted Brussels sprouts, which I could happily eat every. single. day.

Plus, every Tuesday the winery offers half price food for members, so we plan to make it our regular Tuesday end of day activity. Having something to look forward to on a weekly basis is appreciated now more than ever.

4)  Sun tea. Such a simple thing, but so lovely to make, chill, and then drink. Today I'll be making a batch of herbal sun tea, so that we can drink it during our soon-to-be-here warmer summer evenings.

Here's the basic recipe I follow:  Summer Sun Tea

And, finally,

5)  My neighbors' lemon trees. Several people on the street grow fresh lemons, and I've been gifted with several bags full, which I've been freezing in ice cube trays for usage in recipes, in one tablespoon increments. However, with my granddaughters expected arrival this weekend, I newly began freezing the juice in one cup increments so that I can make and keep homemade lemonade on hand for them, which they both love.

It makes me so happy to think about serving them something that is the essence of homemade.

Your turn! What five things are you most thankful for today?

I Got A Haircut!

My last haircut was on March 10, three months and five days ago, as was hubby's. In desperation, I cut two inches off my hair myself, plus trimmed my bangs, and did my best to trim hubby's very forgiving wavy locks, both at the beginning of June.

We didn't end up looking horrible, particularly if we wore hats!

However, I've been avidly awaiting the outcome of the late May story about the two masked, but symptomatic hairdressers in Missouri that went to work anyway, exposing approximately 140 people in their salon to COVID. The story finally got updated a few days ago, and the great news is that as an apparent result of everybody involved wearing masks, there have been no additional COVID cases reported.

So I made hair appointments for me and hubby ASAP, and yesterday was the day.

What we did different as a result of COVID-19:

Washed and conditioned our hair at home to avoid having it done at the salon.

Wore masks.

What they did different as a result of COVID-19:

Took our temperatures at the door.

Allowed only one customer per stylist in to the salon at a time. All others waited outside until it was their turn.

Expanded salon operating days to seven per week, so that stylists could work their normal amount of hours, while still leaving every other hair station empty.

Wore masks.

Used freshly cleaned gowns,  brushes, and combs for every customer, no reuses whatsoever other than scissors, which were sterilized between customers.

As a result, it was a very pleasant and relaxing experience, very different from what I'd been expecting/fearing. And since I've elected not to continue highlighting my hair for the time being, I was out in a record 35 minutes, down from my normal two and a half hours per appointment.

Here is how my hair looks now:

It feels great to have shorter, trimmed hair, and I'm loving the no-highlights new natural growth so far, but I'm prepared to evaluate it again in a few more months.

It sure would be freeing to be done with coloring my hair, so fingers crossed for what's still to come.

And here's how my cute hubby looks now:

One more move back toward normalcy, and it does feel good.