Time to wrap up 2020!
(and throw it in the garbage)
Actually, 2020 has not been a totally bad year for me personally. Julio and I moved into our house, had a baby, and started a small business.
So, we had several big, joyous events, but being in our family’s little bubble did not shield us from stressing and worrying about all of the major things that went horribly wrong. And it has been sad to be so far from our family for so long. My mother still has not met our daughter, who will also spend her first Christmas without our big, wonderful family. Those things are on my heart, along with all the big, terrible events this year.
Remember when quarantine happened and all us type-a creative people thought we were going to write a great novel because Shakespeare wrote King Lear during the plague? What a laugh. (Unless you did that, in which case you’re amazing.) I did make quite a bit of progress on a nonfiction book that I am writing with two friends, and queried a bunch for another project I’m doing, but I did not write any of the novels I have taken notes for or the nonfiction book I plan to write solo. What I did do during that early quarantine is get sucked into following some bullshit YouTube drama, justifying the experience by taking notes for yet another novel I will probably not write.
I also grew a human. Being pregnant during the pandemic was a weird experience. No birthing class. An online hospital tour. My husband not being allowed to come to ultrasounds. Socially distant baby showers. All that. Plus, there was a healthy dose of fear because the CDC kept moving pregnant women in and out of the high-risk category. There was just so little data! But, we made it, single umbilical artery, extra monitoring, and all.
I had planned to pray a rosary every day during 2020, but when I stopped having a long commute during the initial shutdown, the time I had naturally carved out for it was gone and it was hard to keep up with when every day felt weirdly outside of time. And the repetition stopped feeling prayerful. So, I switched gears and I’m on track to have read the whole Bible between April and the end of the year. I have also really solidified my habit of keeping my notebook after some fits and starts over the last two years and I feel GREAT about that.
Looking forward to 2021, here are my big-ticket plans.
- Get our farm business running and registered as a St. Kateri Conservation Center protected habitat. We are technically very close to qualifying, but I want the place to be more fruitful and to look better before I apply. This step is really important to me as a big part of our hopes for the homestead focus on living closer to the land and the creatures on it. I hope my wildflowers grow this year, the compost gets up and running, and I have a big, healthy pumpkin patch come Fall. Our orchard will take some time, but we plan to develop that more too.
- Learn how to spin yarn. I have started playing with a drop spindle using some wool tops and raw alpaca fleece that I bought. We could have up to 60 pounds of raw alpaca fleece about six months from now and I would like to know how to turn it into yarn.
- On Sundays, I’m going to take a break from social media. We have gotten into a really nice routine in which we do Mass, then Julio makes pasta and we watch Bishop Barron’s Sunday sermon over dinner. It feels really homey and special and I would like the whole day to have that good, set apart sabbath feeling, and, sadly, no social media is the best way I can think of to accomplish that. It’s amazing how much time and energy it takes, isn’t it? For this space, that means that I will be publishing my posts on Monday morning instead of Sunday, as I have been doing most of this year.
- Actually complete my personal reading syllabus. I got so swept up in other books and life with a newborn this year that I barely made a dent in my 2020 syllabus. I have rolled some of it over to 2021 and added several books about unplugging, living more intentionally, and nature.
- Write more.
Other than that, I am keeping it loose. As this year taught all of us, I think, there’s no knowing what’s ahead and how that might help us write King Lear. Or not.