The Ladies Upstairs

We have lived in our townhouse-style condo since early 1999. Over the years we have considered buying a bigger place, mostly to accommodate more guests, but with 2 ensuite bedrooms and a half bath downstairs, the place, although compact, has more than enough space for the two of us, a dog and two cats. There are a few inconveniences to be sure; probably our biggest beef has been the lack of storage for our bikes, and not having a good place to grill outside is also a headache, but in general, we have been very happy here.

Our unit has two floors, and there is another condo below us. When we first moved in our neighbor downstairs was a quiet architect named Joe who kept the landscaping around our building immaculate. When Joe took advantage of low interest rates in the mid-2000s to buy a house, he sold his place to Steve, another quiet guy who traveled a lot and rode his bike for fun. Steve moved out a couple of years ago, and our new neighbor was Trevor, a young man starting his career as a government employee.

There was something about Trevor's enthusiasm and earnestness that reminded me of some of my former students grown up, and he and I bonded the first morning he lived here when his car was towed and I helped him get it back and get to work on time. After that we would trade text messages almost daily. But Trevor must have been good at what he did, because only a couple of months later he was offered a promotion which entailed a move to New Jersey.

The condo stood empty for a while; the market was soft and it must not have made sense to sell it right away. A few people did move in and out of the place, but they kept such a low profile and stayed such a short time that we only jokingly began to refer to the place as a witness protection safe house. All that changed earlier this week when a guy named Clayton, his partner and their three-legged dog moved in.

It's only been a few days, but I can hear their music clearly enough to tell that they like Paul Simon and several other rocking singer-songwriters from the late 20th century. Their music has been my music all day today, and I can only hope the intermittent banging is just temporary picture hanging and furniture placing racket.

I know that everyone is staying home and we are all in closer quarters than usual, but for goodness sakes! For the first time in 21 years, we might have to go knock on the door and ask them to keep it down, all ready!

Office Hour

I had ten students "stop by" for my first virtual office hours today. Some of them had a simple question or two, but most of them simply wanted to hang out on the video chat, see the other kids, type jokes in the comments, and show us their pets.

An assistant that I work with was there, too, and so we just kind of visited with the kids as they came in and out, asking for TV and movie recommendations, how they are staying in touch with their friends, what they do to keep from total boredom. It was nice to connect, and one of the toughest kids I have in class stayed on the whole time, which was gratifying.

And although I enjoyed the session, at the end of the hour, I was certain of one thing:

An hour?

Is too long!

Next week I'll do 2 thirty-minute sessions.

No Comment

I had a little bit of a shock today when I checked my personal e-mail only to find a comment had been left on yesterday's post on this blog by "Mom".

Regular readers know that my mother passed away last October, but until then? She was my most loyal reader. My mother never was much of a commenter, though. No, she preferred to talk about my writing in our regular phone conversations, where she knew she could get the unedited version of any story, full of juicy details.

And today, I knew, of course I knew, that it wasn't really a comment from my mom, but I lingered over the link for a little, imagining what such a comment might say.

Sharing the Road

I read a report today of a Florida man (yes, really) who threatened a mass shooting in a grocery store because many of the people in there were not wearing masks. I can believe it. Negotiating social distance in public spaces can be harrowing.

Last week, when Heidi made a wide arc around three young men walking toward her as she ran with Lucy, one of the guys yelled, "What would you do if I touched you?

To which my wife replied, "I'd let my dog bite you!"

Well, he did ask.

The next day, we were hiking in a regional park with my sister-in-law and nephews. A fellow hiker was very upset that the guys were standing too close to each other and their mom. He stood by the side of the trail and bellowed at us that we were peeing in the pool. "It's all ruined now," he moaned, as if in physical pain. When another family walked past us in the opposite direction, he shouted that the distance they chose was not six feet. Obviously disturbed, he huffed and groaned and sighed along behind us for some way, until at last he shouted, "Passing! Passing! Clear the trail!" Which we happily did.

And then just tonight our neighbor was out running when she stopped at a traffic light alongside a family of three on their bikes. "That is not 6 feet," the mom scolded her.

"That is not the bike lane," our friend snapped back. "You're on the sidewalk."

It's hard to cut each other slack when we are all wound so tightly. Normally one might recommend taking a deep breath in any of these situations, but these days?

Even that seems dangerous.

Mic Drop

A lot has been written lately about the etiquette of online meetings, but I don't think everybody has gotten the message. The basics are to mute your microphone unless you are speaking, especially in a large group. It is probably also wise to the same with the camera, or at least I intend to do so after sitting through an hour and a half meeting of 35 people watching folks scratch their heads, walk in and out of the frame, and drink coffee. Then the conversation came to an awkward halt when the unmistakable sound of farting blasted through the speakers. Props to the person facilitating, though, for her poised response. "We need to take a moment to remember our norms of muting the microphone unless we are speaking. I think we are getting some, uh, feedback, on the line."

I'll Try Not to Sing Out of Key

Just like after any break, I wasn't excited about getting back to work today. Perhaps there is some cold comfort in that, and to tell the truth? Yesterday, I couldn't have said if online teaching made it harder or not. But knowing today was a work day did cushion the landing a little.

And as it played out, having time to reestablish connections and collaborate with my colleagues before getting back to this tele-teaching thing we are inventing together day by day was immensely energizing and comforting, too. With texting, e-mail, GoogleDocs, MSTeams, and (shhhhhh) face to face communication, they pulled me out of the self-involved funk that has been so easy to fall into, isolated as we all are.

At the end of day, we have some fun and engaging activities all set for the kids tomorrow; in fact, I can't wait to see what they do!

Easter, Again

Usually Easter Sunday comes at the end of spring break, and sometimes knowing that we have to go back to work the next day drains more than a little of the joy from the holiday. In fact, over the years we've definitely minimized our celebrations, especially with no young kids nearby. And I thought that this year would be the same, except? Nothing is the same right now.

So, Heidi spent the week baking cookies to make little Easter bags for the local family and dog pack buddies, and at the grocery this morning I added white eggs and a dye kit to my cart. And then there were the plastic eggs we bought, long before the stay at home order, for Heidi to use with Lucy on nose work training.

And this morning? We rose in a golden dawn to deliver Easter treats, dye eggs, and have a couple of doggy egg hunts. This afternoon we visited with family, outside and ever mindful of distance, and tonight, there is lamb for dinner.