Shopping Local

One of the things I am looking forward to when I finally retire is to spend a lot of time at the museums downtown. Of course we know how lucky we are to live less than five miles from some of the finest exhibits on the planet, which are all open to the public for free, but knowing and going are two separate things, particularly when life and traffic stand between the two.

A few months ago we were walking on the National Mall with some friends and their dogs when one of them mentioned a monthly museum group she had once belonged to. Much like a book or dining out group, they picked an exhibit and met there. The wonder of such a plan cut through some of my how-ever-will-I-spend-my-time retirement angst. 

Even so, I resolved to get down there a bit more frequently now, before I retire, especially now that COVID protocols have eased. And today? We did just that, although not exactly in the way I had imagined. Our holiday shopping done with the exception of stocking stuffers, we remembered how fun the gift shops at the National Gallery have been in the past. That, plus the Christmas Market up by the National Portrait Gallery, made downtown seem like a good destination.

And it kind of was: the post-pandemic economy has taken a bit of a toll on inventory in many places, museum gift shops among them. It was still fun to look, though, and a good reminder of all the treasures that are really no more than a few minutes away.

So Much Funakkah

We were invited to a neighbor's Hanukkah open house this afternoon, and as is often the case, I was reluctant to go. This time my excuses included the fact that I still wasn't feeling 100 percent, and there were so many holiday chores here at home, but attending the party was pretty much non-negotiable, and so I put on a nice blue sweater and boots and off we headed. 

It had occurred to me earlier in the day when I was wishing that I could stay home, put on a Hallmark movie, and wrap gifts, that this was the type of gathering that the folks in those movies always enjoyed. Sure, they had their gift wrapping scenes, but seldom were they at the expense of meeting with spending time with people, and never was the TV on.

And this party ended up being way better than running errands or checking off things on my to do list! There were neighbors to catch up with, pups to pet, babies to hold, brisket and latkes and chopped liver, and we played Dreidel and watched Adam Sandler on YouTube. At the end our hostess explained the tradition of the menorah, and she and her sister said the prayer as she lit the shamash and then the first candle.

And as we walked home, I felt like the holiday season had truly begun.

Thanks, Universe

My stomach is still a bit tender, and so I headed to the grocery this evening for some frozen ravioli, the same kind my mom used to serve when we were kids. Back then I would have given anything to be able to eat those round little ricotta-filled pillows with nothing but butter and salt, but my mother insisted that we have it with the homemade meat sauce she had prepared. 

The ravioli themselves were precious, counted out before they hit the boiling water, so that each of us only got so many. I'm not sure if they were expensive, and that's why they were so strictly regulated? Maybe so, because they were a rare treat indeed; more often we would eat boxed vermicelli with our red or clam sauce.

Anyhow, my appetite is still not back to 100% from that lingering stomach bug, and sometime this afternoon it occurred to me that plain cheese ravioli might be a comfort to my unsettled stomach, so off I went with the intention to buy just as much as I wanted, and when I got there? They were half price! 

That's gotta be a good sign.

Stomach Bug: Day 3

When at last I felt well enough to tell about it, I had to laugh. 

"Were there any kids in the classroom when you barfed?" my brother asked.

"No, just Heidi," I told him, "and later she said, "Wow! You really don't know how to throw up do you? You didn't even bend your knees or pick up the trash can! No wonder it went all over the place!"

"Well," I shrugged, "it's not really a skill I hope to develop."

And for the record? I feel much better today.

Stomach Bug: Day 2

My stomach is still super queasy, but things could be worse. I'm on the couch with the dog, the TVs on, a merry fire burns brightly,  I have tea in my cup, and ice water by my side. 

In my entire teaching career there has only been one other time when I was too sick to go to school, so that's pretty fortunate, too. 

I'm sure it won't be too long until this is all just an unpleasant memory.

Broken Streak

 Folks, it's literally been over 30 years since the last time I threw up. Or rather, that was true until this afternoon when I booted all over my classroom.

It's just as unpleasant as I recalled.

Fortunately? I'm feeling just well enough to tell about it, so that's another streak that stays in tact.

Paradox

Our principal is fond of telling the students in our school that we are, "the best of the best, better than all the rest." She uses the catchphrase to motivate them to behave well, but to be honest? I've never much liked the comparative nature of it. Why do we have to be better than everyone?  Can't we all be good for its own sake? 

Whatever my personal objections, I've heard the expression for so long that it barely registers anymore. So the other morning when, in her last weekly message to students and staff before the winter break, she encouraged all of us to be reflective and humble as we approach the new year, I barely gave it a second thought. The same was not so of one of my homeroom students whose hand shot up immediately. 

"How can she expect us to be humble when we're the best of the best?" he asked. And although his question was more than a little snarky, I had to give him kudos for listening and thinking about the content.

Fortunately, he didn't expect an answer.