Erin's Journals

Just a thought… Civility costs nothing, but buys everything. [Mary Wortley Montagu]

Well hello! Are you hockeyed out yet? I shared this picture on Facebook and other social media Friday. They were both in their jerseys yesterday, too. What a lovely tradition – however short- or long-lived!

Things are going well and smoothly here with our lovely family live-in. Colin has had his first play date with two boys who are grandsons of a dear friend, and we went to the ocean on a partly cloudy 22 degree day. I kept saying to Nancy, “You envisioned this: you said one day Colin and your two boys would be playing together and here they are. How is this even real?”

What’s also very real these days is the fact that BC is not as smug about being a shining light in COVID numbers for all of Canada and to the US. As more young people decide they can get their party on and not feel vulnerable, our numbers are on the upswing. According to an article at cbc.ca: 

In the past month, the number of daily active cases in the province has quadrupled from about 10 a day to more than 40. The number of active cases has more than doubled, reaching levels not seen since May. Outbreaks are now widespread enough to require the self-isolation of more than 1,500 British Columbians. There are now more active cases per capita in B.C. than Ontario. In other words, it’s not good.

No, it is not. While my dad and many others are either forcibly or voluntarily self-quarantining, the selfish and brainless among us are putting everyone at risk. It’s not fair, and it’s sure not right.

So, what to do? When we’re out in grocery stores and see people not wearing masks, we find ourselves trying not to judge or be indignant, but it’s hard. So when I found this article on npr.org on etiquette and how to deal with (or not deal with) people who won’t respect the masking requests, I thought it was well worth passing along to you today. The article, by Malaka Gharib, refers to advice from etiquette expert Elaine Swann.

Maybe you’ll find some wisdom in here worth sharing or tucking away. We sure did. While etiquette isn’t the first thing that comes to mind in the midst of a pandemic, it comes down to decency and civility and how to manouevre choppy and uncharted waters, even if they’re in the paint section of your local Home Hardware. (The takeaways at the end of each point are especially helpful.)

1. How do I tell somebody — especially a stranger — to step back because that person is just too close to me?

Swann says this is the No. 1 question people ask her. Your first inclination is to yell out, “Step back!” or “Get up off me!” she says — but those reactions aren’t exactly polite, and they’re likely to escalate the problem.

Instead, she says, try to use words like “we” and “us” in the request. For example, “Let’s just put a little bit of space in between each other while we’re waiting in line.” This shows mutual consideration — you’re thinking about how your behavior is affecting their health — and hope they are concerned with your safety too. 

Malaka Gharib/NPR

If you ask in a kind manner, people are likely to do as you ask, says Swann. More often than not, people want to be respectful of others. 

But if you start lecturing about pandemic safety or take on an abrasive tone, they might not be as willing to comply. They might “feel like they’re being chastised” or perceive your request as an attack on their moral character — that they are someone who does not follow rules. That might offend the person or make them feel defensive — and ultimately, the person might refuse your request. 

Takeaway 1: Show mutual consideration.

2. What if I ask a person to keep their distance or put on their mask — and they say no? 

“Then, do what you can to protect yourself,” says Swann: Turn your face away from that person, step over a few feet, walk in a different direction. 

Takeaway 2: Protect yourself.

3. It makes my blood boil when I see people not following the pandemic guidelines. Can I intervene?

Malaka Gharib/NPR

“If their behavior is not affecting you, let it go,” she says. “Folks are getting into these arguments and kerfuffles because they’re trying to get folks to comply with the pandemic guidelines. Stop trying to do that if the person does not want to comply. You have to let crazy be crazy and leave them alone.” 

The only time you should speak up, she says, is if it’s directly affecting your safety. Then you can try using some of the “we” and “us” language in her suggestion above.

Takeaway 3: Let it go.

4. What if I’m at a socially distanced outdoor gathering and, after a few hours, people start to bend the rules a little bit? 

Try using the “we” and “us” language if it’s just happening with an individual, says Swann — saying to the person, “Let’s make sure we stay in our little sections over here.”

But if it’s happening partywide, alert the host, she says. The person in charge has the authority to enforce the pandemic guidelines. Swann suggests: “I noticed that people are starting to get relaxed with the guidelines. I thought I’d bring that to your attention.” 

Malaka Gharib/NPR

If the host does something about it, then great, says Swann. “But if the shift doesn’t happen and you’re uncomfortable with the environment, then wrap it up. Just say, ‘You know what — I’m gonna head on home now. I had a great time.’ ” 

Resist the urge to get on your soapbox, she adds. “Don’t make an announcement and say, ‘Nobody’s following the rules, and therefore I’m leaving’ — then slam the door on your way out.” You want to make sure that your relationships make it to the other side of the pandemic, she adds. 

Takeaway 4: Take yourself out of uncomfortable situations — and remember to preserve relationships.

5. A friend invited me to hang out. How do I know whether it’s safe to do so? We might not be on the same page with the pandemic protocols.

Don’t make assumptions about how people are following the guidelines, says Swann. Some people, for example, feel safer staying at home, while others live as if the virus didn’t exist. So ask a few questions in advance, she says. For example: “I wear a face covering when I’m around others. How do you feel about wearing face coverings? Is that something you’re doing? Is this going to be a social distancing affair?” 

Malaka Gharib/NPR

Listen to what they have to say. “Then take a moment to step back and ask yourself whether it is something you feel comfortable with,” says Swann. “If not, say, ‘Thank you so much for the invitation, but I won’t be able to make it.’ ” 

And don’t push them to change their plans to fit your level of comfort, she adds. “This is not the time to police our friends and our family members. Instead, we should curtail our own behavior and make decisions on what’s best for ourselves.” 

Takeaway 5: Don’t assume.

6. BONUS ADVICE: What the heck do I do with my mask at a socially distanced meal?

When you’re eating, take the mask off completely, says Swann. And, she adds, “don’t have it hanging from one ear.” You’re going to be chomping and chewing and drinking and talking in the duration of that time, so it doesn’t make sense to try to wear it at the table, she explains. 

But don’t even think about putting your used mask on the table, says Swann. Aside from the germs, it’s a major etiquette no-no. In general, she says, “nothing should go on the table except for food.” That includes your cellphone, purse, keys, hat, laptop — and, of course, your mask. 

Carefully “place it in your bag, purse or in your pocket. Or you can place it on your lap underneath your napkin,” she says. “That way it is easily accessible when your server comes over to you.” Remember to mask up when your server is around, she notes, to keep them safe too. 

Takeaway 6: Please don’t put your mask on the table.

Don’t forget to print out A Pocket Guide to COVID-19 Etiquette With Elaine Swann. Fold it using these directions (courtesy of The Oregonian).

Just a thought… The entire sum of existence is the magic of being needed by just one other person. [Vi Putnam]

It’s been a crazy busy week. Not in a bad way – just a really eventful way! Colin met two of his “aunties” in Sidney and we had beverages out on a deck overlooking the harbour; he regaled them with stories of the Marvel characters in his movies, while we peppered him with questions about flying, having a sister and so on. As you can imagine, he made this grama very proud.

We’ve continued to move items gradually into Phil and Brooke’s new house and it looks as though their truck from Ottawa won’t be backing into their driveway for at least two more weeks. It’s hard not to be frustrated with the lack of concern on the moving company’s part about coming anywhere near their promised arrival date (tomorrow), but they hold all of the cards.

So we wait – and we don’t mind one bit from a hosting point of view! It’s all a big adventure as we explore the area together and enjoy the best weather we could ever have asked for: highs in the low- to mid-20s, very little precipitation and no humidity to speak of. I’m so glad that our promises of a gentler summer than they were sweating through in Ontario have proven to be true.

Rob and I had another new beginning this summer and it’s something we have been doing for about six weeks now; it makes me look forward to Thursdays more than I have since our band used to get together weekly on that night for practice. We’ve signed up to deliver meals to the elderly and those who aren’t feeling confident going out during COVID. It’s on behalf of our local community centre in Sidney and we love it!

After having gotten the clean bill from a police check, we answered the call passed to us through a fellow Rotarian that drivers were needed for people who either couldn’t go out to buy groceries, or chose not to risk being in public during COVID.

As a team, Rob and I divide the chores: he puts all of the dozen or so addresses into the GPS and prepares the next recipient’s bag. Then when we arrive at each person’s home, I jump out, grab the delivery and walk briskly to their door.

Sometimes it’s an apartment and I have to call to get them to unlock the lobby door, then take an elevator or stairs when possible; other times it’s hunting out a number on a trailer or finding the proper house on the block.

No matter where the recipients live, after I knock or ring the doorbell, I’m usually greeted with a grateful smile. Of course, I have gloves and a mask on so they can’t see my face, but I hope they know I’m returning the smile as I make a little small talk and pass off the bag of meals (one hot, three frozen, with an additional bag containing cookies and an apple and orange).

I wish I could stay and chat with many of these older folks, but a tight two-hour window, addresses scattered sometimes several kilometres apart and, of course, the limitations posed by a mask on my face and some hearing difficulties on a few of the recipients’ parts seem to set a lot of boundaries.

It’s been just a few weeks, but some of these folks have already made impressions on me: there’s a lady with beautiful blue eyes and a friendly smile who loves to chat; there’s another who comes slowly to the door in her robe and is tiny and lovely to me when she opens the door.

The drop-offs aren’t always memorable for the right reasons: one fellow mixed up delivery days so I knocked, waited and knocked again. After a few minutes he did come to the door, but was only partially clothed in a T-shirt. Let’s just say my eyes stayed locked on his! And on the occasion that someone has had to go to hospital or is in the shower (both scenarios happened last week), I visit a neighbour and leave the food with them, then if I can, I call and leave a message for the intended recipient.

One residence has a circle of women sitting out in social-distanced safety, with appetizers and drinks, dogs at their feet and a friendly wave and smile when they see us pull up in our little red convertible. As I say, there are often glitches, but the important thing is that people are getting their meals as promised. And best of all, I didn’t cook them!

We just love doing this. I’m not even kidding when I say that I’ve been counting down to today since Monday. It’s not just having human interaction, but feeling useful and needed. On the surface it may appear small, but it is a welcome reminder that even when these times have made us feel so far apart, we’re still connected in, oh, so many ways.

Have a lovely weekend and I’ll be back with a journal on Monday, plus daily posts on Facebook. See you there and thanks for coming by!

Just a thought… Pleasure may come from illusion, but happiness can only come from reality. [Nicolas Chamfort]

Well here we are, a few days into August and how strange does it feel not to be counting down to the CNE or PNE, or seeing “Back to School” signs and ads everywhere you turn?

Here in BC it appears our grandson Colin will indeed be starting up after Labour Day at the beautiful little school down the hill from our home. The plan is to put the children in pods – not actual ones like this…

…but small groups of their same peeps. What a wonderful way to start a new school, taking little steps and meeting just a few of your classmates at a time!

I picked up a special lunch bag with his Avengers characters on it yesterday so, yeah, I guess we’re thinking about what’s coming next month. What will we do with our days after six glorious weeks of parks, play, hide-and-seek and full-on grandparenting?

For now, we’re enjoying every adventure, including shopping for everything from spoons to bedding for Phil and Brooke’s new house and enjoying the luxury of being able to move them in slowly while we await the arrival of their belongings on a truck from Ontario.

I’m sure the neighbours on their quiet little street have been curious about the goings-on as three different cars drop by a few times a day to unload purchases and various pieces of furniture we’ve been working on to recover, paint and so on. Whatever they think, you can be sure that not one of them has figured out where Rob and I come into this picture. Sometimes even we wonder!

After Colin and Jane had gone to bed the other night, we four tired adults sat and had a nice, long talk. I told Brooke and Phil the story I’d read recently of a man who described a couple in his life as “not my biological family, but my logical family.” And I think that describes us to a tee. Related by blood to but one member of this precious foursome, we’re as close as any real in-laws could be.

We’ve been in the position where I have tried to describe in the vaguest of terms our circumstances: I told my family doctor about my daughter-in-law and son-in-law moving here and needing his services and of course people think either I’ve misspoken or they’ve misheard.

It’s kind of like the situation I describe in the book Mourning Has Broken: Love, Loss and Reclaiming Joy when people ask if Rob and I have children. A loaded question, to be sure, as how I respond depends on whether I wish to tell our story or not. Yes, and…or yes, but.

Right now, how the new neighbours, our fellow shoppers at Lowes or anyone else for that matter sees us really doesn’t matter to us. All we are is a happy little family beginning a brand new life together, feeling blessed to have this new chapter, this chance to write a happy ending. To take a sad song and make it better, as Mr. McCartney put so perfectly.

Thank you for coming by and on Thursday I’ll share with you the reason that that particular day of the week always lifts my heart even higher.

Just a thought… To me there is no picture so beautiful as smiling, bright-eyed, happy children; no music so sweet as their clear and ringing laughter. [P.T. Barnum]

Hey! I apologize if you had trouble getting into my journal on Monday. I’ve no idea how or why that happened but it could be a matter of volume. Anyway, on we go.

Here we are, almost a full week into our new lives, and it’s still just setting in that this is reality. A little family is here with us: there’s laughter and joyful noise, toys on the floor, a high chair at the table and dishes added to our usual ware. (These were made by my cousin Jocelyn in Calgary who has a company called Polka Dot Penny and her work is amazing – these plates are dishwasher and microwave safe, and are BPA-free etc..)

Here’s the link, and Jocelyn and her two teenage daughters do amazing work – plus there’s a 20% discount for Canadian buyers. The plates are here, but there’s so much more. And yes, there are some happy banana dishes in our future. Of course there are!

So, tomorrow Phil and Brooke get the keys to their house (new to them, but just two years old) only a six-minute drive from us. They’ll be here in our home until the moving truck arrives from Ottawa sometime in the next week or two.

It’s an adjustment having four people (okay, maybe three and-a-half) living with us full-time, but not a difficult one. After a busy day both inside and outside of the house, Rob and I call it a night at around 9:00 and let Phil and Brooke have their quiet time together.

It all seems to be working out well: our daily schedule consists of various shopping stops and some DIY projects to get pieces ready for their new place, baseball and/or hockey on the TV, toys on the floor and lots of cuddling going on.

Oh, there’s a bit of business too, but with a twist: the other day Rob and I were on a Zoom call for a new podcast we’re going to be doing starting in the fall. As we talked with three people in Ontario, Colin tip-toed into the bedroom, interrupting the meeting in the best possible way: he pulled from behind his back two bananas as “awards” to us for being “best grama and grandad.” The awards were inspired, no doubt, by the trophy we gave him for bowling 212 on Wii the other day (he’s leaving the rest of us in the dust).

But we ALL had a huge laugh when he brought in the real bananas. And yes, we are only two of his grandparents – not the best, just the ones right here. I’d hate for Phil or Brooke’s folks to take offense – and I’m sure none was taken in this sweet gesture. No doubt they’re going to be getting their own awards one day!

We’re having a wonderful time getting to make little Jane – who turns ten months old today – smile and laugh. She’s not making strange in the least and she’s a lovely, happy little girl. This picture was taken of the two of them out on the deck the other night. The devotion between the children is a lovely thing to see and we’re just so lucky to be a part of this sweet family picture at last.

As we get set to move into August in just a few days, I’ll leave you with that picture. Please stay safe and try to have a lovely weekend. My journal will return after the holiday on Tuesday. Sound good? Talk to you then!

Just a thought… If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older. [Tom Stoppard]

Holy! I’d forgotten I could get this tired. Mind you, it’s a great sort of exhaustion: the kind you get from playing in the sun, running, throwing a Frisbee (badly, mind you), waking earlier and having to shake my head repeatedly to make sure I’m not dreaming. I’d better take you back to Friday.

All day Friday Rob and I were trying to pace ourselves before the arrival of our son-in-law Phil and grandson Colin, Phil’s wife, our daughter-in-law Brooke, and our new granddaughter Jane with a gentle mixture of busy and idle. Cleaning and texting Brooke every step of the way. And yes, going a little crazy wondering if this was actually happening.

As the hours ticked to touchdown of their 10 pm scheduled landing, things started to go a little sideways: the flight from Ottawa to Calgary turned out to be challenging (to say the least) for first-time flyers Brooke and Jane.

Then, I listened to the tension and upset in Brooke’s voice from Calgary and realized that with the time difference, and a 45-minute delay, they’d be landing at nearly 2 am on their body clocks. So I dropped one little surprise we had giddily planned: banana costumes. Yes, Rob and I had these and were ready to greet our company at YYJ in them.

But I thought: Read the room. Waiting, jumping out of our skin (peels?) dressed as Grama and Grandad Banana for a tired little troupe would only be memorable if it was well received. So we decided not to.

Turns out it was a good call, but the other surprise we had planned did land just right. July 24th felt like the replacement for all of the December 24ths we hadn’t marked since 2015, so we decided to lean into it. How? With a tree and lights, how else?

We waited until we saw the lights of their plane coming over the Haro Strait and that’s when we leapt into two cars and went to meet them.

The few people who had greeted travellers in the arrivals area had long since left. The last non-crewmembers off the plane, our sweet foursome arrived sleepy, frazzled and deeply relieved to have gotten to the end of, not only an anxious and long day of travel, but the days and weeks of tension and stress of packing up and leaving their house and home city in a swamp of formidable heat and humidity.

Soon we were all home, and passing through a door decked with a small red velvet bow, they walked into a house with Christmas music playing. First thing they saw was the puffy tree and white star lights dangling in the window, the fireplace channel blazing on the TV.

As Brooke said, “Christmas in July…” I turned to her and said, “This is for you.” And later when I asked Colin what the best part of his day was, he lay his head on his pillow in his Toy Story-decorated bedroom and said, “Christmas.”

Our family sextet, all in various levels of an exhausted haze, opened presents over warm cinnamon buns on Saturday morning. The banana costumes finally came out, but of course, Colin wore it best.

I’ve lots more to tell you but I won’t make this one too long.

So in short:

– Our (formerly) Ottawa family is here safely after a long, grueling and tear-filled journey. They’re starting to unwind and settle into their new western life.

– Banana costumes at Arrivals out – but a big hit the next day!

– Turkey dinners are meant for colder months. The heat of the cooking (and the weather) curbs appetites but makes for leftovers when we’re too pooped to prep.

And finally: from here on in, nothing for the rest of our lives will come close to the joy we’ve felt this past weekend. As we start believing this is happening, we can only be grateful for dreams that have emerged from the ashes of despair. And that have taken this girl, for one, to new heights, swingset, or not.

I’ll be back here with you on Thursday. Thank you so much for your messages of excitement, support and love over the past week. They’ve meant more to us all than I can put into words.