Eff DeAnna

Have you ever lost touch with someone and not known how to reconnect? It happens to the best of us.  And trust me, I’m not even in the top 50%.  Last year sometime, I stopped blogging.  I had reasons (excuses).  Mostly surrounding time at the beginning.  Trying to figure out a time when I could sit down and write.  Prior, it had been really easy to just blog while Poopie was at practice, but his practices became more sporadic, and I wasn’t stringent on making sure I took time out myself.  Later there was motivation, some stemming from health issues, and serious depression because of those issues, some just lack of practice. While not all resolved satisfactorily, the depression isn’t debilitating anymore since I’ve had time to process and come to terms with things. I have been my usual self of not saying no nearly enough.  Plus, there were a whole slew of other aggravating things no one wants to deal with.  Frankly, I just didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to try to be upbeat here as well as in real life.

To prove how contrary I am, the pandemic, which is throwing everyone else into a tailspin, has been like a breath of fresh air for me.  Many who know me probably assume I’m getting so much knitting done.  I am not.  Knitting is how I cope with the stresses of everyday life.  Without everyday life, I don’t have those stressors, so I don’t need to knit as much.  Being pretty portable, I’m able to take knitting with me when I go to functions, board meetings, shows, etc… but now, I don’t need to worry about portability.

In addition, I am finally home to do all those projects which have been percolating in my brain.  I got 1/3 of my apple tree chopped up, which is awesome considering how terrified I am of chainsaws.  I made poor Poopie help me move 2 yards of wood chips, though I did the 1/2 yard of gravel by myself, since it needed to be done with individual buckets vs. a wheelbarrow.  I’ve torn up half my front yard trying to de thatch it, but had to stop that project because the hippy lawn seed (which involves flowers and low water/maintenance plants) isn’t available right now because of said pandemic, and I blew through my stash.

I’ve also made bunches of masks for family who needed them, and then a bunch more to donate.  I’ve been working through that stash as well, though I did have to order elastic online. And people thought I wouldn’t use my stash.  My sewing has been accompanied by Perry.  Poor Poopie has a negative visceral reaction when he hears the theme music now.  Back in the day, the seasons were apparently over 30 episodes.  I’m honestly not sure how many seasons there are.  I think I’m in season 4.  So…that math is really sad for Poopie.

I heard a phrase on one of my podcasts that really resonated with me–nostalgia bath.  During this weird time, the podcasters were talking about how they are finding themselves steeping in nostalgia–shows, movies, music.  Psychologically, this makes sense.  For people who are having a rough time with the stay at home orders, this brings them back to a more settled time.  For those of us who are having less of a rough time, it’s a familiar stay at home.  Perry Mason was always my lunchtime show when I stayed home sick from school.  Summers, I would wake up in time to see Perry Mason to start my day.  He’s familiar.  Also, I’m not weirded out about people touching each other in black and white.  Watching the color shows, I find myself wondering why the actors are so close to each other.  Once Perry is done, I’ll have to find something else to binge watch.  Thankfully, we live in the future, so that isn’t too difficult.  Poopie will be happy about that for maybe a week, and then be back to aggravated about my binge watching.

He’s having a rough time of it.  He does not like being at home, he needs to be out.  Since we are both members of the more vulnerable populations, even after restrictions are lifted, we’ll have to continue to be more vigilant.  This just means I can’t fully enjoy my quarantine because it hurts me that he’s so miserable.  And there is literally nothing I can do about it.

On to happier subjects.  The title of this post refers to an incident that occurred shortly before everything shut down.  DeAnna was bugging me about my lack of blogging, and faking that she couldn’t remember it, what was it called again? So I said F*ck you.  Someone next to us said “You have a blog called F*ck You? I’d read that!”  I clarified that it was F*ck DeAnna.  I’m not a monster, I only curse at those who deserve it.  So I’m fulfilling my promise to have a blog post named this.   You are welcome, Miss D 🙂

I’m going to try to do better blogging.  I even have built in conversations.  In January, I started trying to follow Elizabeth Zimmerman’s Almanac.  In a few years, we’ll talk about how hilarity ensued, but as I’m working through it, I have so  many feelings about the grande dame of knitting.  I’m planning on sharing!