Tag: pandemic

Posted in #weekendcoffeeshare, Flash Fiction

#weekendcoffeeshare – Labor Day 2020

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

#weekendcoffeeshare

Good morning! I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to invite all of you for coffee until today, the last day of Labor Day weekend, 2020. I’m so glad you could stop by. Grab a cup of Blue Mountain coffee or a cup of tea and I will fill you in on the past week.

Life is so busy in semi-retirement! I find myself wondering how in the world I ever had time to work. My career as a college professor was long and required long hours of work doing research and preparing materials for teaching, not to mention the time I had to devote to committee meetings. Life isn’t that busy now, but I still work part-time. This second career is that of a professional writer. I’ve been lucky that I have been able to find freelance, paying gigs for over 20 years now.

At this time, I’m trying to slow my life down a bit. I’m working freelance and part-time. A lot of my writing is for a company I’ve been associated with for over 12 years. Isn’t it funny that life seems so busy and complicated? Sometimes, I think the advances in technology have made life more difficult and complex instead of simpler.

It’s a beautiful fall here in Kentucky in the U.S. Cool nights, but hot days with bright blue skies. It will start cooling off here soon, although September and even October can be hot during the day. I find myself looking forward to fall. Summer is not my favorite season. I prefer cooler temperatures and rainy days!

The pandemic, despite all the deaths and illness, has forced my husband and I to take life a bit easier. We have been hiding at home, for the most part. We live in the country, or what used to be the country. Civilization is encroaching. My neighbors, even though we are all an acre apart, seem too close. When I moved here 22 years ago, mine was the only house on this road. Now, there are a number of homes on my road and I’m not particularly happy about that, even though we have good neighbors.

I spent this past week on a number of varied things. I’m putting together a book of flash fiction to independently publish on Amazon. I have several books that I’m working on, both fiction and non-fiction. I try to write 4 – 6 hours per day. Of course, I also have my job and I have three articles due soon. 

Besides writing, I spend a good amount of time on food preparation, particularly since the start of the pandemic. We try to buy local, so I go to various vegetable markets and country stores to get the freshest food. We buy meat from a local farm and chicken from the Amish. I buy seafood and fish from a company on the west coast. Almost everything we eat, I make from scratch. All of this takes time, thought, and preparation. We’ve had a lot of wonderful fresh vegetables this summer.

I don’t have tales of travel this summer due to the pandemic.We have been homebodies, but in two weeks we’re taking a week long RV trip to a lake that isn’t too far away. It seems that RV travel is the way to go this summer since you don’t have to be around people because you are self-sufficient. I’ll be sure and report in during and after the trip.

Can you name on thing you particularly enjoyed during the past week? I’ll start. I heard from two old friends, both live far away. I hadn’t talked to either of them in many years, so I enjoyed our conversations a great deal. It’s interesting. The pandemic has made me appreciate the simple things in life. 

Thanks for coming! See you next week.

Rosemary

Posted in Non-fiction

The Pandemic and the American Emotional Response

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

 

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Photo by Edward Jenner on Pexels.com

We’re in the seventh month of the pandemic in the U.S. When I talk to friends, family, and strangers, I hear them speak of a range of emotions. Depression, anxiety, despair, rage, overwhelming sadness, grief. It’s hard to sort it all out. I feel all those emotions myself combined with a few more. Panic, desperation, claustrophobia, and even happiness. What we feel is a reaction to the unknown and it manifests in each person differently.

The situation we face, at least in the United States, is one we’ve never faced before. To one degree or another, what sums up all of those emotions is fear. We’re afraid. We fear we’ll get sick and that our loved ones and friends will get sick. Even those people who deny that COVID19 exists, and there are many of them, feel fear. They fear that their lifestyles have been taken away from them and they don’t know if it’s permanent or not. It’s quite likely that all of us have both fears. The fear of illness and the fear that nothing will ever be the same.

At the first of the pandemic, many Americans were in shock. Those that were most prepared for the situation we faced were The Greatest Generation. They are the ones who lived through the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and so much more. Very few are alive who lived through the Spanish Flu pandemic in 1917 and 1918. To our dismay, The Greatest Generation is rapidly disappearing. They could teach us so much if we would listen.

Imagine the unknowns The Greatest Generation faced. During the Great Depression, some literally did not know where their next meal was coming from or if they could continue to provide shelter for their families. Then came World War II. Most able-bodied men between the ages of 18-35 were sent off to war or enlisted voluntarily. If you were an enlisted man in combat,  you had no idea if you’d ever go home again, ever see your family, or even live through the day. If you were a woman who had not enlisted, you were home without the 24/7 news cycle that we have today. You had the radio and sketchy, spotty news reports. You sat by the radio and listened to the American President, FDR, whenever he came on to give a report. Most of the time you didn’t know if your husband, brother, son, father and many of members of your family were alive or dead. We think we are scared due to the pandemic or feel any of the other common emotions right now? Imagine how they felt.

During the first part of the pandemic, despite our shock, we had to get ready to isolate ourselves. That involved stocking up on food, supplies, medicine. There were runs on grocery stores that caused fear and anxiety since we didn’t know if we would be able to get what we need. Since I have a co-morbidity, I have been at home since February with very few exceptions. I haven’t seen anyone in my family during this time and I’ve only seen a friend once or twice. There are a lot of people out there just like me.

I feel everything every other American feels. I’m angry that the coronavirus was allowed to get out of hand in our country and blame the lack of leadership at the top for that happening. I carry a high level of anxiety most days, I worry if I get out, I’ll get sick even though I wear a face covering and take all the recommended precautions. I miss my friends and family. If I allow myself to think too much about the pandemic, I feel panic and despair. I listen to the statistics every day about the deaths this virus has caused, and I feel grief and overwhelming sadness for those families. I feel claustrophobic daily even though I’m luckier than so many people and have a house and yard in which to move around.

Mostly, when I think about it, all of these emotions culminate in fear. Fear of the unknown. I wonder what life will be like after the pandemic. I even wonder if there will be an “after.” The virus could be here to stay. A vaccine will only be moderately effective.   Will Americans ever have the freedom we once had and probably did not appreciate? The virus deniers are determined to live their lives anyway and there is something I admire about that while fearing their lives will be cut short.

Perhaps, besides fear, my primary emotion is gratitude for what I have. I still have a job while many don’t. I’m with my husband here in our home and we try to take care of each other. So far, we’ve been able to get the food and medicine we need. The pandemic makes us look at the very basics of life.

I still have hope for the future although it isn’t as shiny as it once was. The pandemic has devastated not only the American economy but also the American society. Will we ever get back to being the “shining city on the hill?” No one can answer that question right now.

Posted in Appalachia, Non-fiction

Appalachia and Comfort Food: Tonic for the Soul

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

I guess, when life gets too much for us, we go back to our roots. My roots lie in two very diverse places, but one of my feet stands in the Appalachian region of Eastern Kentucky. I think that the cooking, when I was growing up, was perhaps the best in the world! Even now, when I’m way past all grown up, I want to eat what my mother cooked, and what her mother cooked. My comfort food comes straight from Appalachia with only a few exceptions.

I still seek out roadside vegetable markets that crop up in the summer all around where I live. I now live on the fringes on Appalachia and, just about every week in the summer, I’ll take a drive 50 miles south in search of homegrown vegetables. I did that on Saturday and have a refrigerator stocked full of wonderful vegetables grown in the region.

Today was a very stressful day for both my husband and myself. About mid-afternoon, all I could think about was cooking some of those vegetables the old-fashioned, Appalachian way. I knew that eating what I grew up on would be a tonic for my soul. During this pandemic and the uproar in our country, I think we’re all looking for a little tonic.

I started to cook dinner and grabbed the green beans. I wanted green beans and cornbread. I’ve already given you my recipes in another blog post, so I’ll skip that. I put the green beans on to cook after spending two hours stringing them. I made the cornbread, with buttermilk, and put it in the oven. While the cornbread baked, I sliced fresh tomatoes, small cucumbers, and a cantaloupe for dessert. I took the cornbread out to cool and waited on the green beans. I don’t cook my beans with meat anymore, my one nod to health. I slice up a sweet onion and season them with onion, salt, and pepper. Delicious!

Dinner was wonderful and I was much calmer and less anxious after eating my comfort food. What’s your comfort food? Try it during the pandemic. Maybe it will be tonic for your soul too.

Posted in Flash Fiction

Day 4 – Street

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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I never thought I’d miss the noise. The sounds of the big trucks on the interstate at night. The quieter sounds of the cars navigating around them. Even the traffic on my own street which is very light but even lighter now. Lighter since this plague. The pandemic. The outbreak. Whatever you want to call it, the word sounds ugly.

After all, I came here 22 years ago mainly for the quiet. My mother was dying and wanted to come home. My own life had undergone a huge change and I needed to heal. I built my cabin in the woods for the quiet. To be close to nature. Mine was the only house on a gravel road. Not so anymore. Since the plague it might as well be. No one is out. The only person I see outside my window is the little boy next door riding his pint-sized motorcycle up and down the street. Only occasionally.

It feels like the world has gone back to a simpler time, an earlier time. I’ve always thought that would feel good, but it doesn’t. Maybe because it has happened unnaturally. Because of this plague. Because of a virus that shouldn’t be here.

No wonder the grocery shelves are empty. Everyone thinks it is because people are frightened and hoarding. If you could hear the shattering quietness of the interstate highway, you would know that isn’t the only reason. Our food supply simply isn’t moving. Nothing is moving, but the food supply is especially scary.

Deer are appearing again in my yard. They had almost vanished, but they’re back. We’ve taken over their home and they will naturally return because they hear and feel the stillness. When I first came here, there were so many song birds. Sadly, they won’t be back. We’ve killed them with the pesticide use on the corn they love to eat.

Did this virus really come from a wet market in China? Perhaps the beginnings of it did come from bats. Hasn’t it been an effective tool to make the people of the U.S. totally impotent? A wise young college student commented that the next World War would be fought with something out of a can. Interesting, ah?