Author: ktmiklos

Switch

Yesterday, I read a story about an experiment with an evening online kindergarten class at a New Jersey elementary school.

Educators noticed a high number of absences in the daytime online classroom. They surmised that the challenges faced by working parents, coping with job and other changes brought about by the pandemic, made it difficult for some children to attend online learning during the day. When they did attend, they were frequently distracted.

So, the educators offered an option: a 6:00 – 8:00 p.m. class. Eleven students signed up.

The results have been excellent, according to the educators and the parents. Attendance improved, as did student engagement in the lessons. In some cases, the parents have been able to shadow their children, supporting them during the lessons and reinforcing the information. That would not have been possible in a daytime class.

This switch to nighttime education is not a solution that will work for everybody. But it has been successful in this case. Perhaps it could be a positive option elsewhere.

There will come a day when the pandemic won’t be a part of our lives anymore. We’ll go back to living without having to take the extra steps that keep us safe right now. When that day comes, it will be worth celebrating – a return to “normal.”

At the same time, it’s unlikely that we’ll think of things in exactly the same way as we did before. There will have been a shift in how we perceive the world around us, our options and expectations. A shift in how we define “normal.”

It will be interesting to see which of the experiments, which of the ideas and innovations created during these challenging days, will leave a lasting influence.

Sweater

Today is National Ugly Sweater Day here in the U.S.

The real fun of wearing an ugly holiday sweater is sharing the experience with others, laughing at the ridiculousness and figuring out who has the silliest, most creative and hilarious attire.

I’m regretfully remembering that I got rid of my Ugly Holiday Sweater in one of my cleaning and organizing frenzies earlier this year. It won’t be possible for me to participate in National Ugly Holiday Sweater Day this holiday season.

But…Mollie and Charlie have sweaters. There’s no reason that dogs can’t participate in National Ugly Holiday Sweater Day.

Let the festive frivolity commence!

Life

Favorite

I woke up with an earworm of Julie Andrews singing “My Favorite Things” from The Sound of Music.

This morning’s brain tune came with a bonus memory video of the scenes in the movie – Maria von Trapp and the children, dancing around the bedroom while thunder and lightning stormed outside. I let it replay in my mind a few times as I snuggled under the blankets, enjoying a few extra minutes of quiet comfort.

It was a good way to start the day. Thank you to the von Trapp Family Singers.

Family Holidays

Toys

When my first son was born, I received several toys as gifts. They were designed for infants, with smooth edges and soft materials, and I looked forward to the days when he’d be old enough to play with them.

As he grew, we added more age-appropriate playthings with bright colors and cheery noises. We also added baskets and buckets to hold the toys when they weren’t in use. Not everything got put away every day, but the routine worked most of the time.

Over the years, our family increased, as did our toy collection. And as the children got older, the toys became smaller, with detachable pieces and parts (so many pieces and parts). They became louder (so loud). Gone were the sunny rhymes, gentle music, and simple designs of the baby items; in their place were roars and sirens, bells and whistles, ceaseless chimes and tunes, symbols and signals that echoed favorite cartoons or movies or adventure stories.

We still had the buckets and baskets, but the cleanup routine didn’t work as well as it used to. In the rhythm of daily life, we chose to prioritize other activities. But every once in a while, I’d steel myself for a Day of Sorting and Culling. I’d put the pieces and parts back together, designate storage locations, fix and group, discard and organize. It was both frustrating and soothing, an exhausting exercise that yielded satisfying results.

Eventually, however, the toys would resume their command of the house. The parts and pieces would again lie in wait, preparing for their assault on our bare feet in the middle of the night or angling to be the first to get caught in the vacuum cleaner hose. We’d sigh and complain, but we also found it comforting, this youthful clutter, one of the realities of raising children.

Then one day, after the parts and pieces were culled and sorted and organized, the baskets and buckets filled and straightened…they remained that way. The contents went untouched; the toys were no longer appealing. My children had outgrown their playthings. They’d moved on to new activities, new interests. It had happened without notice, seemingly overnight. I’d blinked, and it was over.

I suppose I’m thinking about these things today because it’s the time of year when kids are making their wish lists, describing their dreams of what they’ll find under the tree on Christmas morning. I’m remembering the fun of those early morning hours when the presents were opened and the excitement was tangible, sparkling in the air amidst the delighted cheers and smiling faces.

I don’t miss the clutter and the chaos of the plastic and noise, but I do think fondly of the days when my family was surrounded by childhood magic. I’m grateful for those experiences and memories, for the imaginary fun they contained.

Our Christmas mornings no longer include toys, but it’s not too late to help to make those moments possible for other children. There are many organizations working to bring happiness to families this holiday season, and today’s cuppa celebrates the people who devote their time and energy to this work. It also reminds me that it’s still possible to be a part of the special fun that comes from pieces and parts, sirens and music, cheery symbols and childhood clutter.

https://toysfortots.org

https://www.salvationarmyusa.org/usn/

https://www.operationhelpahero.org/operation-christmas-spirit.html

http://www.sharinglifeoutreach.org

https://wish.org

Life

Start

In the first days after 9/11, when the skies were silent and the country was grieving, it felt as if time had stopped. The days passed, but each one somberly echoed the one before, the same and alike.

Then, the word came that the skies would reopen, and the planes could fly. My colleagues and I went outside to watch and cheer as one of the first rolled down the runway and made its way into the clouds.

That one communal event didn’t change what had happened, didn’t fix what had come before. It didn’t negate the horrified sadness that seemed to be everywhere. Grief is not something that can be managed on a calendar or put on a timetable for healing. Those emotions, especially on a scale that existed after 9/11, must be allowed to occur as necessary, to come in waves, small and large, in bits and pieces, minutes and memories; a collective experience that is manifested in millions of individual, personal moments.

That shared occasion did do something important, however. It recognized a first. It honored a symbolic start. It celebrated the beginning of an ending.

I thought about those days this morning as I read about the trucks rolling out on their way to deliver the first doses of vaccine.

What’s onboard those trucks cannot make what’s come before disappear. Their contents won’t solve all of the challenges or take away all of the pain. There is no quick fix.

Those trucks do, however, carry a beginning.

Here’s to the start of hope. And, here’s to all those who are doing what’s needed to help the world move forward.

Pets

Neon

We have some coasters that light up in neon colors when something is placed on them.

We don’t actually use them; they have a slick surface that doesn’t provide a secure hold on whatever’s placed on top. Still, we’ve kept them around.

One of our cats, Bandit, has taken to sitting on them. When he does, his backside glows. He looks a bit surreal, like an alien cat.

Sometimes, instead of sitting, he’ll do the kitty crouch, with his front and back paws tucked beneath him so that he looks like a loaf of fur. In that case, most of his body glows, the neon colors reflecting off his white fur.

When he’s in that position, he’s typically staring into the distance, eyes wide, watching the world around him. He looks wise, like he knows the secrets of the universe.

I suspect that, if he could talk, he’d have a lot to say about important matters in life. I also suspect that his advice would be liberally interspersed with the words “tuna” and “dinner” and “warm blanket.”

Adventures Nature

Mountains

Today is International Mountain Day. Established by the United Nations in 2003, International Mountain Day is focused on the protection and sustainability of mountains.

I once read that, when choosing recreation-y, vacation-y options, Introverts prefer mountains, while Extroverts prefer water. I don’t know about the scientific accuracy of that information. As somebody who leans Introvert, however, I do know that I’m more likely to head for the hills.

There’s something about being in the mountains that makes me feel free. That’s strange, perhaps, because being surrounded by ancient stone formations isn’t typically associated with feelings of freedom. But when I’m in the mountains, I don’t see barriers. I don’t feel surrounded, closed in. What I see are expanses, vistas, views – green and blue and brown and white, stretching out into the distance and into the sky. What I feel is clear, unconstrained lightness.

I’ve also never really considered mountains to be something that need protecting. After all, they’re solid rock formations, tall and strong, ancient and unyielding.

Then again, rocks can be crushed. Time and water can carve canyons and valleys. Mountain life can disappear due to fire, climate changes, and man-made circumstances.

The fact is, nothing on our planet, this home we call Earth, is indestructible. Even mountains.

So, here’s to International Mountain Day and its goal of protection. And, here’s to the tales of time and nature that exist within the ancient rock and stone.

Holidays

Missing

I woke up this morning with the feeling that something was missing.

It nagged at me as I let the dogs out. It bothered me while I went about the morning routine of making coffee and distributing kitty kibble. It was a ghostly feeling, just on the other side of realization, not quite clear enough to understand but obvious enough to recognize.

Then, I opened the cupboard door to pick out a cuppa for my morning coffee, and the feeling made sense.

At the front, waiting patiently for my choice, was one of my Christmas cuppas, a gift from a work friend several years ago. Seeing it sitting there made me realize that something is, in fact, missing.

In years past, my December commute to and from work included Christmas music in the car. I’d select a station that was playing holiday favorites, turn up the volume, and sing along.

At the office, my colleagues and I would exchange cards and share homemade treats. We’d wear holiday attire and gather in groups to wish each other festive greetings of the season.

And in the early evening winter dimness as I drove home at the end of the day, I’d see Christmas lights on the houses and buildings. Each one, from the minimal displays to the Griswold-level over-the-top exhibits, was a message of cheer, a beacon of happy energy.

This year, I’m not commuting to work each day; it’s not unusual for me to go several days without even getting into my car. When I do drive somewhere, it’s typically during the daylight hours. I can’t remember the last time I turned on my headlights to see the darkened road. There are no workplace potlucks or cubicle decorating contests, no gift exchanges or holiday parties.

So yes, something is missing this year. The holiday traditions have been disrupted; certain experiences have disappeared.

Of course, in the big picture, these changes are insignificant; there are many more important circumstances and concerns happening in the world right now. And my family and I still have our traditions; we will still celebrate the season. We are grateful for our health, our home, each other.

But I think it’s also okay to acknowledge that little bit of a hollow feeling, that sadness for all that has changed and all that has ended, even if only temporarily. That feeling reminds me not to take the small moments for granted, to appreciate them when they happen. It reminds me that I am fortunate to have had moments that matter enough to be missed when they’re gone.

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” – A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

Food Neato

Radishes

During the past month, astronauts aboard the International Space Station have been growing a small batch of radishes as part of ongoing research into plant life in space.

The radish crop is fully-grown now and will be placed in cold storage. Once returned to Earth in 2021, the radishes will be evaluated as part of NASA’s work to understand the best options for space crops.

I’m all for these kinds of experiments. Although the likelihood that I’ll ever fly in space is zero, it’s still exciting to think that, one day, astronauts might take trips to other planets and that average folks will live and work in space. These experiments affirm the possibility that future generations of space travelers will need food sources beyond the short-term options that currently exist.

However, I’m not a fan of radishes. So, the thought of astronauts dining on a combination of pre-packaged meals and radishes is somewhat disappointing.

Hopefully, NASA’s plans and experiments include other vegetables. Carrots or cucumbers, perhaps, or some tasty tomatoes.

I also hope they’ve locked down a way to make condiments available in zero-g. I doubt that somebody who is living in a vacuum-sealed tin can for long periods of time, eating their veggies without any ranch dip, is going to be a happy camper.

People

MoW

Post author By ktmiklos
Post date December 4, 2020
No Comments on MoW

There have been a few silver linings in this year of ugh.

For example, without a daily work commute, I have some free time during the day. I’ve used some of this free time to deliver meals to senior citizens through Meals on Wheels.

I’ll admit that I was initially nervous about volunteering right now, but the people with the MoW organization work hard to ensure that volunteers are well-prepared to safely complete delivery routes. They understand how important it is to protect their elderly clients and the volunteers in this pandemic environment.

They also know that, without these deliveries, their clients might not have the nutritious food they need. Many clients live alone or with another elderly family member. Some are physically unable to prepare their own food; others don’t have access to transportation or financial resources. The pandemic has exacerbated these difficult circumstances. Volunteer delivery drivers are always appreciated, but especially now more than ever.

Delivering a MoW route only takes a few hours. Volunteers can assist with as few – or as many – routes as they want. Training is done virtually, and there’s a neat little app that keeps track of route info. The first route can be a bit of an adventure, getting used to the process and following the driving directions, but it doesn’t take long to get the hang of things.

MoW can always use more volunteers. If delivering meals isn’t your thing, there are other ways to contribute, such as their pet care program and various holiday programs throughout the year. Financial support is always welcome, as well.

If you’re interested in learning more, please visit their website:

https://www.mealsonwheelsamerica.org

Here’s to the Meals on Wheels organization and to their meaningful mission of service.