Shakespeare in the Quarantine

My sister sent this little cartoon to me a few weeks ago, and I love it so much. 

We finished showing the Henry IV-V triology to the boys this past weekend (The Hollow Crown, series 1.  Go right this instant and watch it if you haven't yet.  I'll wait...) It was so much fun to not only go on the journey of Prince Hal once again, but to share it with the boys.  They've read the stories in our Usborne books, and have a lot of history under their belts, so they were able to situate the plays and follow the plot.  It just so happens that Piglet is studying this period of history in school this year anyway, so that was an added bonus (they are currently up to the Wars of the Roses).

One of the best things I ever heard said about Shakespeare was by Ewan McGregor, who spoke about preparing to play the lead in As You Like It in drama school.  He said he was intimidated by playing Shakespeare, and initially couldn't get past the idea that he had no right to be on stage doing it.

McGregor (26:11): "But then, something happened in the second or third week of rehearsal, something just went...[plock], it just tasted so good in my mouth, the words." 

Yes, exactly.  Delicious.

And Now for Something Completely Different: Palette

Happy Bright Week!  We celebrated Pascha over the weekend, and are now limping through Bright Week in an ordinary fashion befitting middle aged adults who stayed up half the night and then had to care for children all day and then start homeschooling again bright and early Monday morning.  Which is to say:

Image from GIPHY

Right.  So.  How about we talk about color, hey?  Gillian at Crafting a Rainbow has been talking about colors and palette this week, revisiting a favorite theme of hers.  I thought it might be interesting to write about that here, since I spend a fair bit of time thinking about color.  Some of it is an old habit from paper crafting days--what colors work well together, what are unusual color combinations to make with this card or project, etc.  

Some of it is making a lot of my own clothes for past few years--in order to have a harmonious wardrobe, not create wardrobe orphans, and find what looks best on me requires thinking about colors and tonality.  Some of it is the artist in me is just drawn to color.  (I did some coloring with markers during our spring break and I'm thinking about drawing some of my own designs, based on Slavic folk florals and running with it). 

Three season palette

I'm particularly drawn to saturated jewel tones, but I also like the dusky earth tones that are popular right now (they just don't look good against my skin tone, which is probably best described as "burns in the moonlight"--ha!) After filling in the boxes with color using Gillian's method, I decided that I really needed two palettes, as I tend to wear one three seasons (Fall-Winter-Spring) and the other in summer.  This is why my summer wardrobe is a source of constant irritation to me.  I really prefer my three-season palette and wardrobe, but can't quite replicate it in the summer (for a variety of reasons).  That said, I am liking the summer palette and hope it will guide my thrifting a bit.

Summer palette

There is a small amount of color cross-over between my spring-summer and summer-fall (I have a bright orange cotton sweater I've been wearing a lot this spring, for example, and tend to wear that bright raspberry color well into the fall, along with the jade green and teal).

Jade green with mint and brass and brown neutral accents.

 An interesting discovery for me is how to make color combos I love on other people work for my skin tone and wardrobe.  Last fall sometime, Meg at Sew Liberated had an Instagram post about her favorite color palette: vanilla, copper, and mint.  She is more olive-toned than me, and her wardrobe is full of gorgeous earth tones, anchored in ochres and muted neutrals, with teal, indigo, and clay accents.  I love her palette, but it would look terrible on me in that particular iteration.  

I thought about how to work with the palette, but in hues that better suited my skin tone.  (This was about the time that I decided to make another rust cord skirt).  That saturated rust gave me the earth tone I was craving, but in a nice deep jeweled shade that suited my skin.  Since white and vanilla tend to wash me out when they are right next to my face as a solid, I paired it with mint on top and accented with copper, or vanilla/white with a teal-toned scarf and copper jewelry.   

A few of my favorite things from the last few years.  I don't have all these clothes now, but I still love the color combinations or the outfit.

 Another one is yellow.  I love yellow, but can't easily wear it near my face in a flattering way.  I love the mustards and complex honeyed colors that are popular right now, but they really don't suit me at all, even if I wear it on the bottom and pair it with something saturated on top.  At best, I can wear them as a small accent somewhere away from my face, like in a patterned scarf or amber jewelry.  That said, I like yellow as a neutral, and have found that certain shades of yellow are fine for me--a bright buttery yellow is generally good near my face; I have a summer cardigan in that shade that I wear quite a bit.

I have that jump rope rhyme about Cinderella dressed in yellow stuck in my head now.  (Stock images from pantone.)

 Likewise, my marigold heavy linen skirt is a nice yellow for fall and spring (the color isn't as good with bare legs, but perfect with tights).  It's in the direction of mustard, but brighter and more saturated.  I've tried pairing it with blush and dove gray (such a great color combo!), but it doesn't look good on me.  If I'm going to wear marigold, I need to pair it with a bold blue-toned accent color like raspberry or bright navy, or jade green.  

I'm wearing far fewer prints than in previous years, and many more stripes, but I'm a lot happier in my clothes these days.  At the moment, I mostly prefer texture to prints and separates to dresses, which is a new place for me sartorially.  When I put an outfit together, I try to look for interesting ways to combine texture with color and interesting accents.  

I'm still trying to work out the best hot-weather clothing that doesn't make me want to die of heat stroke but also doesn't increase my risk of skin cancer any further by exposing my arms and shoulders.  Last summer, I wore lightweight 3/4 sleeve shirts with shorter skirts or shorts, but it wasn't really quite right.  I liked what I wore from a style perspective, but my hot-flashy self had trouble coping with the sleeves, and sleeveless is just not a good idea for my skin.

In the meantime, I'm thrifting for saturated colors, and enjoying the cool pause before the heat of summer descends.

Watchful Waiting: Holy Saturday

From Holy Week and Pascha published by Holy Transfiguration Monastery

Hindsight is easy.  It is easy to look back on events and say, "Oh, of course," or to have a better understanding of the whole course of things than when you are in the midst of them.  I keep thinking about how Saturday is a day of waiting, that day between death and resurrection. 

On the day of crucifixion, all those years ago, the disciples and women with them retired to an upper room to wait out the Sabbath and remainder of the Passover holiday, unable to even properly bury the man they called Messiah.  Their grief must have been intense, for they did not know what waited them the following day. 

All they knew was the fathomless grief of the loss of the man they had loved, and who had loved them like no other. And there was nothing to do but wait.  The Jewish laws regarding the Sabbath must be observed on pain of stoning, and they would have to wait to anoint the body on Sunday.

Little did they know that an empty tomb would await them on Sunday morning.

This morning, I remembered Lents past which were agonies of waiting, of seemingly endless Saturdays.  The year that Philip died, I was churched on Clean Monday (the first day of Lent).  I was still in the depths of my grief, and wondered whether we would ever have children, as my underlying fertility problems had made Philip's conception difficult.  I spent the Fast in a daze, and sleepwalked through that Holy Week. 

The Pascha service was chaotic at the monastery where my husband was attending seminary, with dozens of tired children and their exhausted parents. I spent most of the service joggling the restive youngest child of a friend with three children under four.  My husband and I took the Paschal flame to Philip's grave in the dark of the night, sheltering the flame from the wind.  There was still snow on the ground. 

Little did we know that we would welcome Piglet about nine months later. 

The year Birdie was a baby, she spent Lent in and out of the hospital with respiratory crisis after crisis, as we struggled to get to the bottom of what was ailing her.  I watched her fall further and further behind, my heart in my throat, wondering if she would ever walk or run or play like other kids.  I wasn't even sure it was a good idea to take her to any of the Holy Week or Pascha services, she was so fragile.  On Holy Saturday, for the first time, she was able to hold her head up by herself for a few minutes while propped in a Bumbo.  She was 8 months old at the time.  Bright Week landed her inpatient for a week in the hospital again, tubes and wires everywhere. 

Little did we know that she would not only walk and jump and run, but would be one of our most recklessly physical kids. 

This Lent has been marked by lockdowns and quarantine, virtual church and school, heroic health care and essential workers, economic uncertainty, and fear of a stealthy virus that snakes its way through our world, leaving death and destruction in its wake.  We don't yet know what comes next, as we wait on this long, seemingly endless Saturday.

But we do know what the disciples and Mary and the women did not know on that Sabbath long ago:

Sunday is coming. 

But today, we wait.

It's Friday...But Sunday's Comin'

There are many things I've missed in the past five weeks, and I have some sadness about that.  One of them is our school's reading fundraiser, which was held remotely during the second week and a half of lockdown.  Under normal circumstances, the 12 days of competitive reading in the grammar school would have kicked off with a story night, and the school days punctuated by fun book drawings, reading-related games, and culminate in the exuberant costumed Literature Day celebration.  Younger kids especially tend to make huge leaps in reading ability during this time, so it is exciting to see that fruit.

Each grade has varying levels of internal competitiveness, but Piglet's grade has always been insane, and Piglet's minute totals are always astonishing.  He looks forward to it all year, and starts plotting his strategy early.

This was his last year to participate competitively, and one thing I've enjoyed during this time in previous years was volunteering to be a mystery reader in his class.  I had picked out my book and story months ago, in anticipation: Tony Campolo's Tell Me a Story; I planned to read "It's Friday, but Sunday's Comin'.  It seemed the perfect thing to read in late March in the middle of Lent.

A little background as to why I like that story.  A couple of years ago, we spent a long October weekend in Minnesota for a family wedding on my Dutch side.  On the Sunday after the wedding, we all gathered in the back yard at my aunt and uncle's house and had a time of sharing and singing because that is what we do when we get together.  My uncle loves Campolo's book and read a couple of stories from it, including that one.  I wish I had an audio recording to share, because it was unforgettable: my taciturn Dutch uncle reading that story with such enthusiasm and emotion.  I still hear his voice in my head when I think of the title.

I wanted to share that story with Piglet's class, this is last year that I could do so as they will move into the upper school next year.  And perhaps there will be a way to catch all those things up in the fall, but somehow I doubt there will be the time. 

And so on this strangest of Holy Fridays, during these times of death and destruction, uncertainty and anxiety, as everything we knew before has washed away in the floods of the pandemic, I will say this:

It's Friday! 


But Sunday is coming.

Gastronomy of Lent

I know it is a little strange to be posting about Lenten recipes during Holy Week, but food has occupied an inordinate amount of my week for quite a while now--meal planning, grocery buying, cooking, and washing dishes for four growing children and two adults take up a fair bit of time.  

*This post is a bit long, but the photos and recipes are about half way down*

 

I had grown weary of the grind of it, as my kids all had an insane growth spurt in the past year, and I just could not keep up with the food.  Pounds and pounds and pounds of produce and all the other things that make up home cooking and eating.  Imagine making the equivalent of Thanksgiving dinner night after night after night for months.

I'm not an elaborate or fussy cook.  I don't care about a pretty plate, or nice dishes, or whatever.  I only recently started serving food on the table instead of from the stove because the children were finally old enough to handle it.  (The stove is less than four feet from said table, but still).  Most of the time I serve the food in whatever it was cooked in.  

Because I'm classy like that.  

(Real reason: no dishwasher, so I'm washing everything by hand, day in and day out; I cannot see the point of creating extra washing for myself except on special occasions).

I'm a plain decent cook with a Midwestern food background and a family that doesn't particularly go in for casseroles, which are calorie dense, crowd and budget friendly, and kitchen efficient.  Combined with the rhythm of the Orthodox fasting discipline, which entails a vegan menu for about 2/3 of the year.  It is enough to make a body crazy.

Did I mention that half my family will not or cannot eat beans?  And one of my children refuses to eat potatoes in any form whatsoever?  And two of them will only eat sweet potatoes with ketchup under some duress?  (I shouldn't complain--my kids really do eat a lot of fruit and vegetables without complaint, and are big fans of lentil soup, but their palette is narrow).  One logistical challenge of my house is that root vegetables barely keep a week in a cool dark place because it is so damp here, and I don't have fridge space to keep them cold for weeks. 

Sometime in February, desperation set in, as I contemplated the coming Lent with the weeks and weeks of vegan food that at least half the family refused to eat on a regular basis.  My own food limitations mean that almost all vegan protein is right out.  Too much grain or fiber makes me really sick, so I'm not able to keep the discipline with the others, and often not able to eat what I make for everyone else.  So there's that.  

A dear friend mentioned a cookbook that she has used with her family for some time, with some modifications.  I bought a used copy and had a flip through it and despaired for all the fiber and beans and other things I was certain my children would eschew immediately.  But I was determined to get away from processed vegan protein products, which are largely soy-based (and thus intolerable for me) and also very expensive for the size of our family.  My fasting repertoire had grown overly reliant on them.

Nevertheless, when I started stocking my Lenten pantry (with a little extra here and there for the coming lockdown), I decided I was going to make things with cabbage and beets and legumes and the kids were going to try them.  For some bizarre reason, I tolerate both vegetables reasonably well if cooked to a fairly soft state, and I have a weakness for Slavic soups and pirogs (similar to hand pies and sold as street food in Russia). 
 

To my utter surprise, almost everything new that I made this Lent went over reasonably well with the kids.   

Now it may be a quirk of the circumstances: the kids were aware of everything going on in the world, of my efforts to ration/inability to restock, and therefore not be wasteful about food, but I'm hoping this is a new chapter for us.  I still can't keep a full discipline, and not everything new I made is something I can have myself, but there are enough things I can eat to remove some of the burden of having to prepare a second thing for myself most of the time (or to over rely on toast and cereal, which can be problematic). 

I take no credit for any of these recipes except the Taco Pasta, but just note my modifications either to make them vegan or to suit preferences.  Most of these things I made several times.

She ain't pretty, but the tikka malasa was a big hit, and, even better, didn't make my house stink of curry (bleck).

The non-Slavic thing I made was chickpea tikka masala--almost everyone liked that.  I made it twice (and plan to make it tonight) and my modifications were to use dried ginger instead of fresh, tomato sauce instead of diced tomatoes since my kids didn't love the chunkiness of the first iteration, and to use just a dash or two of cayenne pepper to hold down the heat level.  (I find three flicks of the wrist are about enough for most dishes with my family).  I also used an immersion blender to make it smooth and three cans of chickpeas instead of two.

First iteration of shchi

This shchi recipe was a big hit with all my kids, and they specifically requested I make it because they remembered having it at a Russian friend's house once.  I made it twice; the first time I made it exactly like the recipe notes, but we discovered it is not fun to bite into whole peppercorns and the kids don't like diced tomatoes.  So the next time I just sprinkled some ground pepper and added a couple squeezes of ketchup to get the flavor without the chunks.  An 8 oz can of crushed tomatoes or tomato sauce would probably have the same effect.  Or even a good dollop of tomato paste.  

Second iteration of shchi.  Funny story.  My husband asked me before bedtime one night if I could eat shchi (щи), but the first letter is difficult for him to pronounce and I heard "sheep".  It was so out of context that I stared at him for a moment and said, "Do I eat sheep?  Not if I can help it." He laughed and tried again to say the word which then just sounded like "she".  I laughed and said the word for him to hear, and he tried again, but without success. We ended laughing.

I also used a cole slaw mix (just shredded cabbage and carrots) to save time plus no-chicken stock, but the second time I had a whole cabbage head courtesy of a friend, and just cut it as finely as possible.  The kids said they liked the second version better.  I highly recommend serving with fresh or dried dill as garnish.  If you aren't fasting from dairy, it is very good with a dollop of sour cream.

This borscht recipe had slightly mixed reception both times I made it, but everyone ate it without complaint (having a good bread option on the side was helpful).  I used 2 cans of drained beets to save on mess and work, and just kind of chunked them up in the pan with a knife.  No-chicken stock.  I also combined steps and did the mirapoix in the pot first, adding the beets second because they were already cooked, and the first time I made this, it was so much work to clean up the extra pots and pans.  I used a prechopped mirapoix and added the bell pepper.  I also recommend serving with fresh or dried dill as garnish, and a dollop of sour cream if not fasting from dairy.  

This can also be made non-fasting by using beef or chicken stock and using cooked shredded or diced beef or cooked shredded or diced chicken.

My pirog method is pretty lazy, and I adapted to make it vegan, so I've detailed it below, but look at the link to see how to wrap the dough. 

(Lazy) Savory Cabbage-Apple Pirog (adapted from Natasha's Kitchen)

2 cans pizza dough

1 package cole slaw mix (shredded cabbage and carrot)--about 3-4 cups total

1 large onion sliced finely (diced is okay too)

1-2 large apples, cored, diced small, skin on

1/2 tsp minced garlic (or to taste)

salt/pepper to taste

oil for sauteeing

Preheat oven to 425 or whatever pizza dough recommends.  Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a large skillet, add 2 or so tablespoons of a neutral oil (or olive if you like) and add onion, cabbage and carrot, keeping onion to one side of the pan.  Allow to brown on medium heat, stirring every so often to keep from burning.  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Combine cabbage and onion in pan and move to one side and add apples (my kids preferred two).  Saute until softened and then mix thoroughly in the pan.  

The filling makes an excellent side dish as well.

Take parchment liners from baking sheets and place on counter, and open first tube of dough.  Spread out evenly with your fingers, and then use a smooth glass or rolling pin to stretch dough further, to get to a 1/4" or less thickness.  Divide the cabbage mixture in half, and place half in the center of the dough, spreading it evenly and leaving a 2" edge all the way around the dough (see recipe in link for visual).  Pull the edges toward the center starting at the corners and make an oblong pocket with a star shape in the center.  Pinch seams to seal, and press dough lightly to distribute filling evenly.  Carefully transfer filled dough on the parchment to the baking sheet.  Repeat for the other dough and rest of cabbage mixture, and bake about 15 minutes or until golden brown.  Remove from parchment and cut into rough wedges and serve.  Can be reheated in a toaster oven later.

You can change the filling to whatever you like: potatoes or mushrooms, straight apples, ground meat or chicken or make a variety. 

Taco Pasta

1 box whole wheat rotini

1-2 cans black beans, drained and rinsed

1 package meatless crumbles (optional; if using, reduce black beans to one can) 

oil for fry pan

1 bell pepper, diced

1 onion (red is nice if you have it, but white is fine too), diced
10 oz. baby spinach (fresh)

1/4 cup frozen white corn (this is approximate)

1/3 cup sliced black olives (a 2 oz. can is fine)

1 packet taco seasoning

approx. 1/4 cup mild salsa (I like Tostitos)

Cook pasta according to directions.  While that is going, saute pepper and onion in a fry pan with some oil until nicely browned.  Push to the side and saute the spinach until wilted. When the pasta is drained, return to pot, and add corn, olives, taco seasoning, meatless crumbles if using, and salsa.  Mix thoroughly and add sauteed vegetables.  Serve with salsa and/or guac.  Makes a fairly robust recipe; our family can easily eat it twice.

This wasn't a new recipe, but I haven't made Grechka with Mushroom Gravy and Roasted Vegetables for a few years, and this time, everyone liked it!  Mods to make it vegan are to use margarine in place of butter and oatmilk in place of dairy milk.  I also used a food chopper to pulverize the cooked mushrooms so the kids wouldn't recognize them (worked a treat!)

There were a couple of old stew recipes using black beans pureed to hide them that sort of worked, and I'll probably add those into the larger rotation again as well.  

Image via

 Whew!  I've been meaning to type this up for a while, but...things.  And perhaps today is a good day to post it, as it is the day we mark the establishment of the Mystical Supper and the Eucharist, God's food for body and soul.

One Lent to Rule Them All

I don't know about you, but I have been regularly hitting the wall in the past week or so.  Some of it is that we have been on legit quarantine since 3/20 and haven't been able to leave the house.  (It's not that I'm not stir-crazy. We've all had sickness and I've been dreadfully ill; I'm still not well and not feeling at all myself.  Forgive me if this is scattered).   

Grocery deliveries (or any deliveries, really) became impossible around the same time, and we were okay for the first few weeks, but fresh food had begun to run low toward the end of last week.  I had hoped to be feeling well enough to go to a store this past weekend, but it was not to be, and I'm still inside, managing ridiculously low energy levels and brain fog.  

I know intellectually that we are not in any danger of food insecurity (not even close), and that I have friends who are eager to help with these things, but it was hard not to feel crazy about it all with six people to feed three times a day.  I also know that these are largely first world problems and all that, but I've lived desperately poor, and food insecure, and don't want that for my children.  Some of the stories I've read from WIC recipients unable to purchase their monthly allotments due to panic buying and are in danger of running out of formula or other necessities for their babies have made my heart hurt.

God provides even though my faith is small; by a miracle, I was finally able to get a delivery slot for Pascha afternoon (4/19) on Monday morning. A Pascha miracle, thank God!  I cannot tell you what a weight is off my mind.  (It's unlikely I will receive everything I've ordered, as shortages continue, but I'm hoping to get some Pascha treats to break the Fast).  I also discovered that a local produce-only shop was offering delivery and was able to secure an (expensive but worth it) order of much-needed produce yesterday, just in time for our festal meal of Annunciation. 

 

 

The whole thing has made me think a bit harder about thrift and economy in the house, as well as how I shop for the household.  I've long been uncomfortable with amazon's growing creep in our economy, and how that affects local stores in particular, but also unable to escape it since there are very few places within walking or public transit distance that provide household supplies at a reasonable price.  

(Yes, I know I could drive 30 minutes or more to a big box store, but then we have to get it all home and park again--if we can.  To do that regularly is very stressful and time-consuming, and I find it is better to do things on foot or by public transit with the smaller stores that are naturally on my daily paths, but that also means I can't get everything we need for the house.  It is also not very efficient or cost-effective, to be honest, since we can't easily store Costco-size quantities of things anyway, and I feel very ambivalent about the whole Costco consumer model). 

So grateful to have a full bowl of fruit again!

Amazon's deliveries of even regular stuff are now running 2-3 weeks out, so I'm looking for alternative ways to supply the house.  The city announced they would only collect recycling every two weeks instead of every week, and I expect trash collection is going to get spotty in a week or two, given past history, so it behooves us to further reduce what is going out the door.  Interestingly, our recycling is considerably less since the lockdown, for no reason I can discern, since I'm making roughly the same amount of meals from the same things I usually cook with.  Our trash output is relatively low for the size of our household and is mostly unchanged.

In any case, I'm also considering how I can better use what it is already in the house, reuse or re-purpose things, or make my own as my energy improves, God-willing.  Necessity is the mother of both thrift and invention.  I made my own vegan mayo for the first time yesterday and won't be going back to store-bought!  We're using cloth napkins at the table again, after a lapse of many years, and while I have more washing to do as a result, we're not running through paper napkins (which are in short supply) like they are going out of style.  

I've had this bread maker for quite a few years, but don't use it much, and was almost ready to get rid of it earlier this year, as it takes up an enormous amount of cabinet real estate, but I'm so grateful for it right now!  I don't have enough flour or yeast to make bread every day, but having it with soup a few times has been a treat.

The tree-hugger in me is happy about those small things even if it is just a drop in the ocean of environmental issues.  Those things are so often a zero sum game anyway: use less single-use paper or plastic, but use more water to wash everything...potable water access is an invisible environmental issue, but it won't be for long.

What with everything, I've been unable to settle to anything for long, to relieve my mind from the heavy weight of everything.  Knitting seems to be the only creative endeavor I can work on, and I've done a lot of it.  I just started the ribbing on the body of my Doocot as well as dashing off a few quick doll accessories for my girls.  I doubt I'll be able to wear it much this season, but at least it will be ready to go in the fall when it cools down again.

Yesterday, I squandered a few of my spoons of energy on taking in some transition- and warm-weather skirts, but I'm glad I did it in the end.  The weather is mostly getting beyond wool-skirt temps, and even though I'm in the house, I can feel the shift outside.  I spent the rest of my dwindling energy on the festal meal, and am feeling it today.

So.much.darning.  It seems like every load of wash I do, I have to take a few socks for repair.

This morning I used my allotted energy to fold laundry from the weekend and get the kids' sheets in the wash.  I had hoped to make vegan pancakes for dinner tonight, but I think that shall have to wait to tomorrow and we'll have leftover shchi instead (thanks to my friend Claire for bringing an enormous cabbage last week--I am going to get three meals out of that batch of shchi!)  I confess to feeling frustrated about this energy lag.  With everyone home all the time, there is a lot of household to manage, and feeling ill and exhausted all the time is not helpful.

If I add more broth and another potato, we can definitely get a third meal out of this. (The container is bigger than it looks)

I watched a documentary about the Black Death over the weekend and it was strangely comforting to me in my infirmity.  To remember that humanity has faced this sort of thing before on an even more devastating scale and come out the other side.  In the nine-month plague outbreak of 1348-1349, 6 in 10 people died in London alone.  A town in Italy that had been 120,000 was reduced to 20,000 during that same period.  During the months of February and March 1349, the city of London was burying more than 200 bodies a day.  King Edward III made sure that burials were prompt and done with dignity despite their mass nature, as well as ensuring the peace during the chaos of death and destruction.  Social distancing was normal and expected, as people hunkered down in tiny homes in fear and worry.  It's strange what can be a comfort.

For fiction drama in this direction, I recommend Restoration, a 90s-era film starring a pre-Iron Man Robert Downey Jr. as Charles II's court physician who falls from grace during an outbreak of plague in the city.  It is the journey of a man toward redemption in many senses of the word.

Limiting my news engagement and social media (Instagram, mostly) has been helpful to my mood, but I could do better with it.  I finished the fourth book of the Court of Roses and Thorns series, and finished book two of the All Souls Triology this week, and made quite a bit of headway into book three.  I have enough on my stack not to be concerned about running out just yet, but I could see re-reading both of these series sooner rather than later anyway.  They have been diverting in a helpful way.  

Anyway, a long ramble about nothing really.  How are things in your neck of the pandemic woods?  Inquiring minds want to know.

Yarn Along: Knit! All! The! Things!

 Greetings from Isolation Land!  How is everybody holding up?  We are midway through week three of house-bound homeschooling, and I'm not going to lie, it has been hard.  The school has been fantastic with lesson plans and teacher support, but it isn't the same as being in school, with the loving and patient work of the teachers and staff.

The walls close in on me a couple times per day, and I just want things to go back to "normal," whatever that is.  But I know that is impossible now, and am trying to get used to the new normal.  I remind myself of the hardships others have endured in the past, of the history of disease (something that is of particular research interest to me), as well as what this sacrifice is for: the people on the front lines of this war who take care of the sick and provide food for the hungry.

~knitting~

All the things, obviously.  I'm supervising my kids' homeschooling, and there is really nothing else I can do during that time except knit a bit here and there and try to keep up with housework.  By the time evening comes, I'm too done in for anything else.  

 

Knitting seems to be the only thing I really want to do right now anyway.  So I finished Ponchik's sweater in short order earlier this week, and immediately made a little version for her doll "Baby." 

Birdie immediately asked me to make one for her stuffed elephant, so I spent today working on that for her.  It is the reverse of Ponchik's because I'm running low on the orange yarn and have more of the blue.  Plus they will be easier to identify. 

I should finish it tonight or tomorrow and get it blocked.

I worked a few more rows on my languishing Sorbet Doocot, and am nearly to putting the sleeves on holders, by which point the body should fly along nicely.  I did drop the front neckline an inch or so, and I'm hoping my maths work out on it.  I'm still wearing my blue Doocot all the time, so I'm excited to have another one.  

 

I got this self-striping sock yarn for Christmas, not because I have any intention of making socks, but because I loved the colors and wanted to figure out some kind of shawl or scarf using the self-stripe pattern.  Anyone have a good one that actually utilizes the self-striping?  Most of the patterns I have found that use self-striping yarn aren't really utilizing the stripes as such.

~watching~

Not much, to be honest.  I have been watching season five of Outlander with some grudge, but I think episode seven might just have redeemed the season for me, which has been extremely uneven, and I feel has strayed too far from the book.  Actually, the problems really started in season three when the writers went off-book, and seasons four and five have been uneven where they've tried to course- correct the story line to make it work and bring it back to center.

Where the show hews closely to the book, it works spectacularly, and the performances by the actors are wonderful and nuanced.  Episode three was particularly good, but then, that episode was a direct lift from the book, dialogue and all.  But when the show strays too far from the book, it really goes off the rails for me.  I think there have to be a portion of the writers have not read far enough ahead in the series to know that if you change x or y you affect a major storyline in book five or six, and that all the roads leading to that storyline are going to be detoured as a result.  *cough* Murtagh* cough*

That said, episode seven was extremely well done, and the performance by Sam Heughan was wonderfully truthful and emotionally deep.  I know what is coming in episode eight, having read the books many times, and I'm now curious to see how the show will play it out.

I tried watching a alt-history drama called SS-GB in which the Battle of Britain is lost in 1941 and Britain is occupied by the Nazis, and Scotland Yard is called to investigate a murder.  On the surface, it was intriguing, but I had a hard time sticking with the storyline, even though I liked watching the actors and the production value was high.  Ditto for Babylon Berlin, which barely held my interest through the pilot.  Probably it is the stress of the situation and being so sick, but nothing holds my attention for long on a screen.

~reading~

I have been reading quite a bit though.  Nothing taxing, just a fantasy series by Sarah J. Maas, but I have gulped down the first three books in short order, and am now working on the fourth.  I still have to finish the All Souls Triology (I confess to watching A Discovery of Witches for a 3rd time...) but am kind of saving it for when I finish this Maas series.

~sewing~

Also not much.  I did get some mending and darning done, and got around to taking the front waistband of my green linen skirt apart so I can change the center box pleat into two side pleats, but haven't sewn it back together again.  I also need to cinch the elastic on my marigold linen skirt a bit since it has grown slightly too big.  I bought some rosy-ochre colored linen and some dark teal linen for summer skirts, but I need more time, energy, and mental space to make those up.  I was ready to take my blue and rust corduroy skirts totally apart to take them in properly but ended up wearing both this week instead, and while the fit is still not great, they are both wearable, so I'm inclined to leave them for now.  

~misc~

I started following a couple of excellent Instagram accounts in March, and would be remiss if I didn't share them!  

The first two are accounts that started during the pandemic by artists who have been recreating classic works of art with found materials.  They are: @covidclassics and @tussenkunstenquarantine

You won't regret it!  

 The other accounts are not recent, but are rather curated by medieval scholars, and I just discovered them.  The pictures are amazing, and the captions hilarious.

 

I mean, come on.  That's funny.  @medievalmarginalia, @middle_ages_history, @medievalbestiary, @_medievalart, @damien_kempf are all brilliant accounts.

And finally, if you aren't watching Sir Patrick Stewart's #ASonnetADay

readings, you are really missing out on a lovely treat.  #shakespearemakesitallbetter 

 Linking with Ginny for Yarn Along.