There is no question that this pandemic caught my entire family off guard. While the world was paying attention to what was happening…starting to buy soap and toilet paper and stocking up on groceries, my family was at Johns Hospital in the medical ICU saying goodbye to my absolutely fabulous brother Henry. As the beginning of this unfolded, I was so wrapped up in my little world of love and loss I was able to both shut out what was happening outside the door while also dread on a very deep level what was happening both in front of me and around the planet. We were working closely with medical professionals who were on the frontline in the ICU and telling us what they were hearing about the arriving pandemic…at Johns Hopkins….one of the best hospitals in the world. There came a point when my sister, brother-in-law, and I looked at each other and knew it was time we each got home, while we could and as safely as we could. My sister and brother-in-law drove to South Carolina and I boarded an almost empty plane to Tampa. Meanwhile our youngest daughter was packing her dorm, and with the help of two older brothers was making her escape from college. Like most college kids, she was devastated to go. Luckily for all of us, she has two very loving, amazing, and efficient older brothers in the vicinity who were able to to help extract her and get her on her flight to Florida.
After a two week self quarantine in Florida we began to evaluate our best long term plan. My number one wish would have been to gather all of our children. Like many parents with children in their 20s, this was a heartfelt but unreasonable plan. We have two children living in other countries, there is a fabulous finance, and a wonderful dog Otis, great careers, roommates, and apartments. Our baby, was the only child stuck with her parents. Being the baby of two baby parents is both challenging and hilarious. We get her predicament, we empathize, and we also offer very little sensitivity because “we get it and we have lived it”. Stuck with the parents she was, and remains.
Like the variety of Vermont’s native birds we have come to love and admire, we felt the need to head north to our nest. We said goodbye to our darling little island and packed 3 adults, 2 dogs, and a needlepoint business into a small station wagon and headed back to the woods. Feeling anxious about what awaited us on the drive, we were pleasantly surprised on how well it all went. Upon arrival we went into self quarantine number two to protect our fellow Vermontors. We have finished that time, but will remain as isolated as possible.
I have arrived at The House of a Thousand Projects. While Florida has organized closets, no basement or storage rooms, and little activities to do in and around the house…..Starlight Farm has become my “Festival of Fun”. Okay, “fun” really is not the right word….but what word actually goes with the word festival, in the context of household projects and a fucking pandemic??? “Festival in a fucking Pandemic”. I think I like that better.
We have all settled in, especially the dogs who are thrilled to ditch the required leashes in Florida and joyfully run in and out of the house all day, interrupted only by naps on a 50 year old couch in front of a roar fire. Birdie has settled into online college classes and making music, and Don enthusiastically tackles all the household projects I don’t like. My days are spent packing and shipping needlepoint, reacquainting myself with my former love …cooking, and redecorating my house. This redecorating project actually means, rearranging all the furniture and art in the house, moving items around and often leaving them in the hallways, and hammering numerous nails into the walls until I get it right.