We took a walk in the 51 degree weather when George got home from playing tennis today. This unusual winter has been welcome. We have not had the miserable storms other states have experienced, or floods, fires, power outages. We are blessed.

Our friend Beverly has provided us with time to read while she has a medical appointment or treatment. We relish the quiet time, and the opportunity to be in her life. Many of her excursions are in her areas of driving comfort. She loves driving her car to get groceries, go to the bank or the post office. When we can get her to a more distant place, we do that. She is a delightful 96 who will be 97 in May. I would love to be so tuned in when I reach that age. Her entertaining memoir reflects her exciting early life. We live vicariously as we appreciate her.

Tomorrow the three of us will attend a 95th birthday celebration for our friend Sonja. Longevity seems to flourish in our little area of the southwest metro. Sunday George and I will be treated to a concert by the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra. Music, a big part of our lives, is in great supply in this area.

Texting with grandchildren keeps us in touch with their busy lives. Some are still in school, the rest are finding their passions in the work world. Fortunately for us, music is part of what they have shared with us. We miss the days when we could attend their high school performances; we have memories of the visits made to their earlier entertaining elementary school programs.

Through tennis we’ve made some wonderful friendships. Though we no longer have big group gatherings, we have interesting travel memories with the group: tennis tournaments in New York and California, and pleasure trips to Costa Rica and the North Shore.

Life is full of little joys.

All around the country this winter has been unusual. We are told that humans are disrupting the norm and creating weather chaos by inaction. Because of human behavior blizzards, floods, fires, droughts are weather patterns that affect parts of the country in an unnatural and excessive manner. Temperatures in MN are the same as in parts of the south. Snow has been absent for the most part in a state that depends on the availability of skiing, skating, snowshoeing, snowmobiling, creating snow sculptures and other cold weather activities. Snow days that are anticipated by students have been nonexistent. Our snowblower’s gas tank is nearly full having been used only twice. Small green plants are emerging months ahead of their usual appearance. Trees are budding.

In MN our situation is more unusual than catastrophic. Except for many who love participating in the winter outdoor activities, others are appreciating the convenience of not dealing with snow that makes driving difficult and shoveling necessary. Golfers are tempted to rush the season as fairways are green and temperatures are in the 40s and 50s many days. Pickleball players have been enjoying the warmer spring. Neighborhood courts are in use.

Weather forecasters have been accurately preparing us with daily reports. Personally I’m grateful that we’ve been spared damaging storms. I’m sensitive to those whose experiences have been unusually extreme. Wildfires, hail, tornadoes, power outages, 20-inch snowfalls have made news for months.

I wonder what lies ahead of us for the summer. Predictions are varied. As accurate as the day-to-day forecasts have been, long-range looks are tentative. Minnesotans are survivors. May we have only pleasant temperatures to survive.

Saturday’s gathering to celebrate Muti’s birthday was amazing. We saw familiar faces, many we hadn’t seen for a while. Visiting with long-time friends and watching the birthday girl smile made everyone glad to be part of the day.

Because Beverly had decided to stay home, I became a pest with my phone’s camera taking pictures of clusters of friends, food, and anything that seemed to be something Bev would appreciate.

Sonja and her daughter Joanna sang “Today” at the piano, and two entertainer friends played and sang. Music of that quality is something we expect from Sonja and her talented friends who never disappoint. The day was delightful. I only wish Beverly had been with us. I did send her a batch of photos and some news of the day.

Sunday was a really rainy day, and we had a concert, SPCO, at the Ordway in St. Paul. It was a program featuring a pianist who played with three smaller groups. There are so many accomplished solo musicians in that orchestra. We are grateful to be able to hear live music in so many venues. The twin cities is a haven of accessible talent. We love it!

Russia’s invasions of Ukraine’s northern regions and seashores are unconscionable by any measure I can imagine. Putin’s greed and his lack of empathy for civilians, especially women and children, are on full display to all but the Russian people whose information comes solely from state radio and television stations. And Putin is only 69 years old, making possible a long future as leader of the country.

I am daily impressed with the resilience of the Ukrainian people, the brave positions taken by soldiers who have urged their families to leave their homes until it becomes safe for them to return. The citizen soldiers, some of them young women, have taken on roles they are equipped only by their zeal and fortitude to engage in. 

The beautiful children whose lives have been forever scarred break my heart. Someone wrote the other day asking how women in this country would feel if all the men were to be drawn into a destructive war that provides little chance of survival. The warriors seem committed to a cause that will likely be futile. David and Goliath.

I admire President Zelensky who has risen to the occasion with courage, wisdom, and apparent willingness to see it through, whatever that may mean. 

If this escalates to a world-wide battle, involving too many countries with nuclear capabilities, some with tyrannical leaders, all motivated by a greed similar to Putin’s, we in this country will not be on the sidelines, across an ocean, out of harm’s way. I pray a solution short of WWIII can be found. 

A secondary concern is that fossil fuels are a prime motivator in this mess. I have been tentatively encouraged by baby steps being taken to save our world from a continued assault on its resources, the warming of the seas, and escalation of destructive storms, fires, and droughts. Maybe this is a topic for another day.

George Fairman

From the time I began working at the church in 1998, George Fairman has been the “face of MVUUF” for me. He and Phyllis made sure I found what I needed to succeed in a job that had no clear parameters. When the building program began, George spent much of his time on site, encouraging, often prodding, running errands, finding contractors, making sure his vision would become our reality. It did.

Serving on most church committees gave him a wide-reaching view of our successes and our needs. In his inimitable style, always with confidence and a twinkle in his eye, he found ways to accomplish things on a small budget. His careful record-keeping made each new committee chair and member aware of what had been done, whom to call for specific services, and how to locate misplaced pieces of equipment. When he was nominated for the Prairie Star District’s “Keeping the Faith” award, no one was surprised at his selection.

His constant positive voice in the choir and the music committee helped those groups stay focused on what mattered to all of us: the joy and satisfaction of bringing quality music to the congregation.

As we contemplate his life, we reflect on his impact on the many people whose lives he touched. His warmth, good humor, timely and thoughtful responses to people’s needs gave him a stature to be celebrated. Having had him in our lives we can say with conviction, “It’s a wonderful world.” Oh Yeah!

As people are emerging from the restrictions and isolation of the pandemic, some things annoy me, some frighten me, and some make me smile. The annoyances may be offshoots of freedom from restrictions and isolation. Drivers are rolling through 4-way stops, racing on straight stretches of road, ignoring zipper merges, texting at stoplights and missing the green light creating a frenzy of impatient honking of horns. Another annoyance is late night fireworks that sound like cannons. I have sympathy for the neighborhood dogs. Robocalls are unnecessarily intrusive; I tend to ignore calls from numbers I don’t recognize. I probably miss a few friendly calls, but so far no one has called me on it.

Thieves of packages from porches, or catalytic converters, or yard signs and lawn ornaments puzzle me. Dishonesty is not part of my understanding of the responsibilities of humanity. Painted symbols or obscenities on fences or on buildings disturb me. Littering and destruction show no healthy respect for our world.

I am frightened by the rising level of crime in cities. Guns take so many lives of innocents. Walking or driving in some parts of the city, especially after dark, has become dangerous. All of the fear caused by people who feel left out or somehow disadvantaged by society shouldn’t be part of a civilized nation.

The divisiveness of politics troubles and often frightens me. I don’t recognize my country in some of the behavior I read about in the newspapers. I don’t understand people who deny climate change even as we are in the midst of fires and floods, melting ice in arctic waters making seas rise, increasing deadly storms affecting all parts of the country. I am bewildered by those who refuse to be vaccinated for Covid, putting others at risk.

We love walking or driving through our neighborhood. Some of the landscaping is notable and creative. Painted rocks or friendly messages chalked on a sidewalk make me smile. Young people playing a friendly game of ball or tennis and riding bikes are healthy signs of summer. I love seeing a young person pulling weeds, mowing lawns, or shoveling snow. Neighbors helping neighbors remind me of growing up in a small town where it was a common sight and where I always felt safe.

I suspect it’s my age talking. I long for days of peaceful and loving behaviors. I miss feeling safe and useful. May we see once again some of what made this a place to be proud to call home.

Growing up in a small town was a blessing. Our neighborhood was safe, and we knew most people who lived near us. Mom and Dad had four children; I was the first. Since they had three more, I must have been a success. Or maybe they kept trying until they got it right. I prefer to think I was the prototype. We lived near the city park with a playground, ball fields, picnic area, band shell, roller rink, and a beautiful lake.

On our block were thirteen children, always something going on. We played ball, decorated our bikes and wagons for parades, gave original plays in our garage, and were outside most of the time. I can’t recall being too hot to do any of the things we did. That could be because the memories are happy ones, and they involved the activities and the interactions with friends.

As we got older, there were piano lessons, band practices, dance classes – I learned tap from a man from “the cities” named Harry Croskin – and we spent time with friends from early morning to dark. It was an interesting childhood.

During the mid- to late-forties, polio happened. Our mom and dad were extremely protective of us; we went nowhere in crowded places. All the neighborhood kids were as restricted as we were. Parents were more afraid of exposure than we kids were. We were being deprived of all the innocence of our previous unprotected days. We didn’t totally understand what was happening. A cousin who lived in our town and whose family were very close to ours, contracted the awful disease. We finally had some idea of polio’s devastating effect on a family.

I titled this blog post “Graduation” because I have seen a connection between that early quarantine and the past year and a half. During our recent sheltering in place, schools were unable to serve students in a usual manner. Senior year experiences like games, concerts, plays, proms and graduation celebrations were modified or simply not held. In a small town, the athletic competitions are part of the town’s identity. Music and theater departments’ performances normally drew support from the entire community. Award presentations were missed. All things that are usual rites of passage, especially in a small community, didn’t occur. In our family we had a college graduation and three high school graduations during 2020-2021. Somehow it all happened without the usual fanfare and celebration.

As a former teacher I felt empathy for students and teachers alike. I understood the difficulty of teaching remotely, and I sympathized with families who had to figure it all out to make some kind of educational sense of an extremely complex situation. Making accommodations for individual learning is more easily accomplished in an in-person classroom. Even there some students struggle. I suspect learning has been set back at least a year for too many.

Everywhere I look I see a need for rain. Lawns are getting brown in spots, flowers need daily watering, temperatures continue to break records for heat, and it’s barely summer. We have been in our little bubble since the beginning of the pandemic. It’s been 450 days since we began to stay at home. I have begun to feel more contented with this, and as friends urge us to get out of our comfort zone, aka home, we hesitate.
Our family are all vaccinated, we think. I know of one cousin who has refused, but we can avoid seeing her. I am full of fear. I do not want Covid. I wear a mask when I am not at home. I avoid crowds where some nut who has a gun with a high capacity magazine and rage could take advantage of his right to bear arms and shoot randomly at my friends and me. Activities we enjoy, concerts, theater, the state fair, and family gatherings, are not enticing me now.
Today I decided it isn’t good for me to read comments on facebook attacking things I care about. I fight anxiety, and so far I seem to be managing it. It is interesting that I am happy, mostly. Life has been good to us. We love our home and our neighborhood. We have food and comfortable surroundings. Unlike many I know, I do not crave the companionship of friends.
What lies ahead?

I just realized that today’s title sounds like a movie sequel, as will the next post. The choir had a rehearsal last night via Zoom. In preparation I was advised by my friend Beverly to be sure to put on lipstick. We could see everyone as we sang, but I could hear only Nicole, our director, and me as we sang through parts sight reading some new music. It’s a work in progress. I thought Nicole and I did just fine singing the alto part. It was fun to have a check-in at the beginning to find out everyone’s days are similar right now; none of us has had symptoms of Covid-19. Some were missing the chance to sing with others in their sections. In order to make music look and sound like some we’ve seen on line, with all the faces and voices seen and heard, we’d have to make a sizable investment. And then there would be the “retakes.” What we have right now is more than some choirs manage. I’d say that’s enough for the time being.

Lately people have been making lists on facebook of things they’ve done, foods they do or do not like, or places they’ve visited. Another that has appeared lately is  a list of performers you’ve seen in person with one “ringer” in the list. Do I ever feel old when I only recognize one or two performers or groups out of 10. Picking out the odd one would really be a guess for me. I suppose I could do a list of plays I’ve seen.

One thing I’ve found soothing these days is music. It makes my heart sing and be soothed. This morning I was again delighted by 4 of the actors who had played the title role of Evan Hanson singing “Forever” together. Another recent post on Fb featured a father and daughter singing “The Prayer.”  I lose myself in “Bring Him Home” from Les Mis when it’s done with tenderness. I have always turned to music when my life has been unsettled. Creative spirit is revived in times of despair, and right now I need to be reminded of how much beauty is present is a moving performance, or art, or tiny plants emerging after a long winter. When I open myself to the light, it brings me peace.