Tag: community

Gather

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It was my first quarter at the University of Cincinnati in their History MA program. I had never lived alone in a city before. I didn’t know anyone. I was a TA, got hired to do admin work in the office, and had a full load of classes. Overwhelmed barely describes it. I was also exhausted. Scared. Anxious. And incredibly lonely. My big sister often got the brunt of my lamentations so she did what any good sister would do. She gave me a verbal kick in the pants. “You think you’re the only one in that program lonely? You don’t think every other person is anxious and scared? Maybe consider that others feel like you do and do something about it.” You know when advice is so good it pierces through the fog, the bullshit, and everything else to strike right at the core? This was that kind of advice. Consequently, I invited my cohort over for a potluck dinner and it was such a hit, I did it every quarter thereafter. Always themed. Always well-attended. For many, one of the highlights of our graduate experience.

That “pep” talk and the follow-through have provided such a core memory that I’ve applied it repeatedly throughout my life. I find myself here again–anxious, scared, exhausted, longing for comfort and connection. I’ve said it enough that it’s almost goofy–I want someone to make me a grilled cheese and tomato soup and give me a hug. “So what are you going to do about it?” Here’s what I intend:

On Sunday, February 15th, from 1-4pm, I will have an open house, serving grilled cheese (on homemade sourdough, obvs), and tomato soup. And I’ll be doling out the hugs to whomever needs or wants one. It’s no accident the timing of this, either. If you are in Walla Walla, please message me to RSVP so I can make sure to have enough supplies on hand and give you directions. If you’re not in Walla Walla, please consider gathering with people where you’re at. Connect. Let these connections rest on joy as much as on our shared struggles and woes.

Apples of the Earth

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That sounds a lot nicer than dirt apples, yes? For some reason God, the universe, karma, my guardian angel, random chance, something keeps trying to teach me lessons using potatoes. The French call them pommes de terre which automatically sounds fancier and more elegant. Whether you say poe-TAY-toe or poe-Taaaaah-toe, the fact remains, this descendent of Irish immigrants keeps having them appear as metaphor, proverb, thought-provoker, lesson.

In times of uncertainty, humans try to mitigate their fears with planning and preparation. During the pandemic, folks stocked up on extra toilet paper–we still crack jokes about that. I grew up with the notion it would be important to have a ready, long-lasting supply of dried legumes, rice, and canned goods for the Time of Trouble TM. That teaching, those habits are ingrained (pun ABSOLUTELY intended). Whether it’s a threat of a hurricane or a hefty snow storm, people gather what they think they might need. It offers a semblance of control when things are largely out of our hands. Go to any grocery store when a blizzard is in the forecast. See what shelves are cleared out first.

A few months ago, I was sick, I was worried, and I went to the Grocery Outlet with single-minded focus. I needed to stock up. Volatile markets, political instability/uncertainty, etc all offered reminders and telltales of my upbringing and those things nudged me to get to getting at the Scratch-n-Dent. In that process, I bought a large bag of russet potatoes.

Friends, I’m a single woman who lives alone with three (and a half) cats. I entertain small gatherings perhaps one to three times a month. I don’t feed a family of four on the daily. Yet, for some reason, I thought a giant bag of potatoes would come in handy, you know, just in case. Fast forward to the last couple of weeks and I noticed said giant bag of potatoes showing the telltale signs of sprouting. The clock had been ticking.

This morning I texted family asking who might like a giant vat of mashed potatoes. Fortunately I got a taker and will be sharing some of the bounty tomorrow. While peeling, boiling, and mashing an entire bag of Grocery Outlet russet potatoes, I got to thinking about a few things. I’m reminded of conversations I had with Bryan about our garden and how I think the principle applies to catastrophe preparation. Bryan said there’s no use in our growing zucchini in our back yard because so many people already do and often look to offload it. We should instead maximize our small space to produce the things we use the most and that we might best be able to share/barter/trade. I love this because a. I don’t want to grow zucchini (the suckers take over with their sprawling untidiness) and b. We do better when we can specialize and then share.

Do I think we all need to stockpile rations in the form of dried legumes and rice and an infinite supply of canned goods just in case things really go off the rails? Maybe. Probably not if we’re not intending to cycle those things through to keep them as fresh as possible. I think we do better when we rely on each other, working together. I hope someone has the foresight to have a wheel of aged Parmegiana Reggiano put away for when it counts. And maybe someone else has spices and salt. I have had more than one Time of Trouble already and it’s the community and connective fabric that makes survival possible. I know that to be true for the future, too. Tonight I made mashed potatoes and a couple of pans of cottage pie, some for me, some to share. May this be the way of it whether troubled times or not.

I don’t want to be dismissive of anyone taking measures to feel safer, to have necessary items at their disposal. Mostly, I’m showcasing my own foibles in trying to control the uncontrollable when it’s really the relationships with the people around me that are the keys to my survival.

Beer, Trees, and Bryan

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I’ve set up an event on Facebook, but I realize there are those who aren’t local or don’t use that platform that might want to know. Mary and I were chatting a while back trying to think of a new way to celebrate Bryan. We thought of Bryan’s love for trees and decided to do a little something on Arbor Day–Friday, April 26th.

With that in mind, we’ve decided to invite folks to join us out at Quirk https://www.quirkbrewing.com/ a local brewery in Walla Walla starting at 6pm and going until at least 8pm. Buy yourself a beer or dinner at Agapas, gather with friends and loved ones to share stories and memories of Bryan, raise a glass with us. And if you’d like to, join us in donating to the Scribner Fund for Walla Walla Trees which aids in the City of Walla Walla’s care, maintenance and replacement of our urban forest, a project near and dear to Bryan’s heart.

If you’re out of town and can’t make it, maybe carve a little time out of your Arbor Day evening to raise a glass of beer (or whatever suits you) and toast Bryan and his memory. You can donate to the Scribner Fund for Walla Walla Trees here: https://bmcf.fcsuite.com/erp/donate/create/fund?funit_id=1407 or you could donate to something similar in your own community in support of trees.

Gathering in community, conversing, debating, laughing, asking probing questions–these were some of Bryan’s favorite things. Let’s do them still for him.