I wrote about what I learned from quarantine way back in the spring and thought I’d revisit, now that we’re closing the books on 2020.
I am incredibly grateful for my health.
I never dreamed the new reading chair I bought in fall of 2019 would get so much use.
Our twenty-three-year-old, no-repairs-ever-and-still-going-strong dishwasher should be in the appliance hall of fame.
I don’t know if it’s a result of the pandemic or my age or having endured a year of the ghastly festering wound that is American politics, but my tolerance for artificiality and spin is at its lowest ebb. Speak honestly, be real, and please, lose the buzzwords.
My new bread machine is significantly more advanced than its 90’s predecessor but still has a tendency to want to hurl itself off the counter in a frenzy of over-enthusiastic kneading.
Sitting back and watching the world on a screen instead of living in it is frustrating, and yet, I’ve learned a lot from being a quiet observer.
There are wonderfully kind and knowledgeable Comcast customer service representatives. Seriously. So many are working so hard trying to get it right.
Much as we love supporting restaurants with take-out orders, it’s just not the same eating the meals at home at your own kitchen table.
I am very much a creature of habit. In a world where familiar structure and routine have been upended, I find myself clinging to those habits even more fiercely. That being said, I’ve also learned to appreciate new and different ways to accomplish something that I may have resisted in “normal times.”
I always feel awkward in zoom meetings—not knowing when to talk or accidentally interrupting someone who decides to talk at the same time. Meanwhile, the cat is lurking on the back of my chair or padding across the keyboard.
Technology, love it or hate it, has flat-out saved our butts this year. Same to be said for streaming TV.
I am determined to use the calendar on my phone instead of my trusty pocket planner even though I could write things down in half the time it takes me to text in all this stuff and scroll through the start and stop times. And there will be no stickers, ever.
Even though I will forever miss them, I am relieved not to be shepherding elderly parents through a pandemic. I know friends who are on that journey and cannot imagine their pain and isolation.
I’ve learned so much (including South African slang) from my online writers group of Chicago-based ladies who have very different backgrounds from mine.
When this is over, I may need a 12-step group for addiction to online Scrabble and Solitaire.
I greatly miss in-person worship. But the view from the virtual pews of other churches, especially the Washington National Cathedral, is reshaping my faith in surprising ways.
Sometimes I need one of those signs found in senior facilities that remind residents what day it is, what activities are planned and when happy hour starts.
You’re never too old for new life, even if it’s in the form of a puppy. (Check back with me in a month and see where I am on this.)
Wishing all of us some form of new life in this next and has-to-be-better year.