Be a Goldfish

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If this blog had a smell it’d be the library featured in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade – the one in Venice where Indy and Elsa Schneider walk through the web-covered halls of the flooded catacombs covered in dust and rats. Lots and lots of rats. Truth be told, it seemed frivolous to write about travel and adventures with so much turmoil in the world. Like many, we watched the events unfold in Afghanistan with horror, sadness, and a lot of conflicting feelings. So much of our Army story is woven through the remote mountains of Afghanistan – Clay has spent more months with his boots on that soil than our time being stationed in both Texas and Kansas combined. At the time, writing about our trip to my beloved northern Michigan, or about my weekend in Amelia Island with the girls who were my light during some of my darkest hours, and about our much-needed trip to Philadelphia seemed at best unnecessary and at worst completely tone deaf.

cherry beer and cherry soda

So here we are – the kids’ first day of school has come and gone, my job is busier than ever, we’re deep in the throes of baseball and soccer season, and we find ourselves traveling and going on adventures in between rapid Covid tests and weekly SHIELD testing. If anything, the past two months have taught me that life marches on despite the events that unfold around the warmth and familiarity of our little bubble. My social media has been pretty much limited to checking for school and neighborhood updates and I’ve been finding myself caring less about – well, a lot of things. I’m still trying to channel my inner-Ted Lasso and be curious and not judgmental but it does seem harder to find the good amidst the vitriol and hostility. It’s there – I know it is but man is it difficult to pan for gold through what feels like a quickly drying riverbed.

the king of Michigan soda

I love to write. I’m not terribly good at it – at least in the formal sense. My instinct is to end sentences with prepositions and if I’m being honest, I’m not quite sure what classifies as an indirect object and at this point, I’m too afraid to ask. I write the same way that I love to read – conversationally with the occasional pop culture reference thrown in to prove that I’m not completely irrelevant. Although I’m currently jamming to Easy Lover by Philip Bailey and Phil Collins (for those keeping track that is the second Ted Lasso reference in this post – well, third if you count the title), so what do I know? So here’s to writing about what we’ve been up to over the past two months and making sense of the days that seem to toggle between languishing and the exuberance of endless opportunity. I can’t promise that it will be great but it will be authentic. And to be fair, I think that is all we can hope for in 2021.

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