2020. I have nothing new to add to the fray of articles, news stories, blog posts, Facebook entries or Instagram feeds concerning this current year. How quickly life can change. How quickly what was normal can vanish. How creative and resilient we can be when faced with unseen challenges.
As a cooking & baking instructor, usually working in close proximity with students of all ages, my work life came to an abrupt halt, even before the State mandated shutdown. As with so many of us, I had hours of free time, piles of papers to process, projects waiting for attention, but with the unknowns and stress brought by the virus, I found I had little attention span, little initiative to start or finish anything.
The Civil Rights events sparked in May, brought study and focus away from Covid19. I immersed myself in reading, sifting, learning, something I knew would be ongoing. My always homeschooled son began online highschool in July, something I thought would be easier on me (I hear the collective “Hah!” from all you Zoom-school parents), and though I’m very involved at this point, there is a desired and reachable goal that I’m happy to help him achieve. Finally, I went from no work to all work. July and August were full of kids camps: in person at Whisk and via Zoom with PCC. Getting up & presentable to leave the house or be on camera didn’t mattter-I had to get up & be presentable!
September’s arrival is another restart. We know more of what to expect from school; the garden is on autopilot, only needing water and for produce to be picked; I have a few classes coming up; and I’m applying for my Cottage Food License Permit, using my homespace as a tiny bakery! I have a few more labels to produce, need to finish the floor plan, dot a few i’s then the application is done. I’ll be inspected and hopefully will pass. I’ll keep you updated for sure!
I think this year qualifies as catastrophic, but even so, I don’t want to wish it over as fast as possible. I want to treasure this time with my son; I want to soak up the last days of late summer; I want to keep making beautiful bread, continue feeling awe when I lift the lids off those 475ºF dutch ovens; connect as much as I can with my sisters & parents. I hope things improve. I hope you can recover. I hope our country can heal. I hope I can be a part of it.