My anxiety has dropped considerably. Now that things are getting bad and people are taking it seriously, it no longer feels like such an ominous threat. The danger is here and so are we. Now I can adjust accordingly.

I’ve been thinking a lot of parents with small children.

When my four kids were six and under, I went crazy on a daily basis and that was with lots of childcare swaps, my parents’ help, and outings to the library and children’s museum and church and the park, etc. Take all those options away and it’d be a recipe for disaster. Or at least a lot of maternal meltdowns.

Now with the kids all big and mouthy and helpful, it’s a totally different story. They do the housework and tell me stories and argue with me and make the popcorn for family movie night and initiate the dance parties and give me a reason to make lots of food and let me sleep in. AND when I say I need a break, they leave me alone.

So yeah. I can not imagine living through this stay-at-home order with small kids. To you parents with wee ones, my heart goes out.

Here, have some flowers:

***

A couple weeks ago, a request went out for volunteer babysitters for hospital staff. My first impulse was to sign us up. My girls just lost their babysitting gigs. We’re all at home. This could be one way we could help.

But our weakest link right now is my husband. He has asthma, and he’s our main source of income. Keeping ourselves healthy in order to protect his health, and so we can operate with a modicum of normalcy and self-sufficiency and not be a drain on others, might be the best thing — the most generous thing — we can do right now.

And yet, it also feels terribly selfish. My whole life I’ve been taught to reach out, to include, to assist, to welcome, and now here we are barricading the door.

***

Did you know that the emergency relief money we’ll supposedly be getting — 1200 per adult*, 500 per child under 16 — does not include anything for dependants who are disabled adults, elderly, and between the ages 17-24? (At least as of now; maybe they’ll change this?) As though these people aren’t also losing jobs and getting sick and paying bills and buying groceries?! As though they cost less than our children under 16?!

When my husband learned this, he hit the roof. So sorry, kids, he told our two oldest. According to the US gov, you don’t count.

(But maybe he’s wrong? Please tell me he’s wrong!)

*Fact: the $1200 is more than a person would earn working 40 hours a week, for four weeks, at the national minimum wage of $7.25 per hour.

***

My dad’s birthday was last week. To celebrate, we had a drive-by party.

My brother’s family, and another neighboring family, went in the morning, and we made our stop at the end of the day.

Flowers, presents, and pie: it was more fun than I thought it’d be.

*** 

The “best article of the week” award goes to Why You Should Ignore All That Coronavirus-Inspired Productivity Pressure by Aisha S. Ahmad.

The gist of the article is this: The mad rush to keep things normal — to transition classes to online, to maintain our projects, to stay productive — is foolish. We want to keep things the same, but the truth is, things will never be the same. “The emotionally and spiritually sane response,” Ahmad writes, “is to prepare to be forever changed.”

How do we do this? Conveniently, she breaks it down into three stages.

Security, in which we spend the first few days or weeks focusing on food and family. This is the part where we identify our team (the people we’ll be supporting and working with), secure our home, and let go of all our “shoulds.” This is the mental adjustment period, and it’s profoundly uncomfortable. If we feel bad, good. It means we’re doing the hard work.

The mental shift, in which we begin to adjust to the new reality. Gradually, the brain resets and our ability to do higher-level work returns. This happens at different times for different people; don’t rush it.

Embracing the new normal, in which we dig into the reality of our new situation and begin to establish routines and structure. We become high-functioning people, even while still living in a crisis. We develop schedules and get things done. “Understand that this is a marathon,” writes Ahmad. “Emotionally prepare for this crisis to continue for 12-18 months, followed by a slow recovery. Right now, work toward establishing your serenity, productivity, and wellness under sustained disaster conditions.”

I think I am at the tail end of stage one, beginning to enter stage two. I’m once again able to focus on small things, like blogging and washing the windows and trying a new method for sourdough bread. Before, these activities felt so unimportant in the face of such a huge crisis that I could hardly bring myself to do them. Now, though, they feel satisfying and life-giving.

(I still can’t write, though. And that’s okay. The article gave me permission to let that go.) 

***

And now, for a few musical gems from the last week.

My brother and his wife put out a new song.

In his email to the family, my brother said: We wrote this mostly before COVID-19 made staying at home a national pastime; even under normal circumstances, a lot of our everyday work and play takes place in our home, with out home schooled kids scampering about. Side note: Numerology, in which we have zero interest, relates 60 to “family, home, and nurturing” and 55 to “independence and personal freedom.” We considered using our actual house number, but it didn’t rhyme so nicely.

(The ending’s my favorite.)

And have you seen this family singing Karaoke?

Every time I watch it — and I’ve watched it a lot — my face about splits in half from grinning so hard.

And this, I’m sure you’ve seen — it’s gone crazy viral. The bickering in the beginning makes me feel right at home.   

And one more: Do Re Mi, Covid-19 version.

And…that’s a wrap!

xoxo

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (4.2.18), the art of human rights, an ecclesiastical funk, babies and boobs, warning: this will make your eyes hurt, three stories.

This same time, years previous: Asian slaw, for-real serious, the day we did everything, teff pancakes with blueberries, the quotidian (3.28.16), absorbing the words, the quotidian 3.30.15), our oaf, on being together: it’s different here somehow, Good Friday fun, the boy and the dishes.

Last week when I got the hankering for hamburgers and didn’t have any buns — and I knew the stores probably didn’t either because, when we’d stopped by a couple nights prior to pick up a pack of hotdog buns, there were none — I decided to make my own.

I’d recently discovered milk bread, a bread that relies on a paste of cooked flour and milk for its signature light-and-fluffy texture. After I made the bread the first time, I was hooked. The process was fun — the cooked flour-and-milk gave it a thrill factor — and the billowy bread with its glossy egg wash varnish was delicious.

Now, with no hamburger buns to be had, it occured to me that this bread, with its light, yet firm texture, would make perfect buns.

You know how some burgers buns are so hard and dry that it’s like there’s a war going on between the burger and bun? They are too separate, too different. They don’t even try to get along. And then some buns are so inconsequential that they melt right into the burger, completely disintegrating to the point that it feels like you’re eating meat wrapped in a soggy tissue.

These buns, though, were the best of both worlds. They managed to both conform to the burger and hold up against the onslaught of toppings.

Perfection.

Milk Bread 
Adapted from my friend’s recipe and she, in turn, got her inspiration from the blog Curious Nut. 

Tangzhong is simply the Japanese term for a cooked flour and water (or milk) slurry. (I’d actually first read about the method from a Cook’s Illustrated magazine — I’d even photocopied the recipe because it included step-by-step illustrations for making a challah loaf with four strips of dough — but then I never did anything with it.)

The recipe I’ve been using makes double the amount that I have here — I halved it so it could be made using a stand mixer. Feel free to double it, if you like. (For photos of the rising bread dough and a finished loaf, go here.)

tangzhong:
6.5 ounces milk
1.3 ounces bread flour

Measure the milk and flour into a small saucepan. Cook over medium-high heat, whisking steadily, until thick. Remove from heat and let cool.

dough:
10.5 ounces warm milk
28 grams sugar
16 grams yeast
1½ pounds bread flour
tangzhong mixture
2½ teaspoons salt
2 eggs
2 tablespoons butter, room temperature 

egg wash: one egg yolk beaten with 1 tablespoon cold water

Measure the warm milk, sugar, and yeast into a large mixing bowl, or in the bowl of your stand mixer. Stir briefly and let rest for ten minutes, or until puffy. Add a pound of the flour and salt and mix to combine. Add the cooled tangzhong. Add the two eggs and the rest of the flour. Add the butter and mix for several minutes.

Cover the dough with plastic or a towel (no need to remove it from the mixing bowl) and let rest until doubled.

For loaves: Divide the dough into two parts. Shape into loaves and place in greased pans. Let rest until doubled. Brush the tops with the egg wash. Bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes, or until golden brown. Turn out of pans onto a baking rack to cool.

For hamburger buns: Divide the dough into two parts. Divide each part into twelve equal sections, making 24 sections. Shape into balls of dough and then press flat into the desired size for your hamburger bun. Place buns on greased, half-baking sheets — 12 per pan. Cover and let rest until doubled. Brush with egg wash and sprinkle with sesame seeds, if desired. Bake at 350 degrees for about 15-20 minutes.

This same time, years previously: now that she’s back, the quotidian (3.26.18), the quotidian (3.27.17), the Tuesday boost, maple pecan scones, the visit, a spat, fabulous fatira, whoopie pies.