The Mystery of the Missing Shoe

 I wear sandals as soon as the weather warms up in the spring and I keep wearing them even when I need to wear socks with them. I love my sandals. It takes me awhile to get used to confining my feet in shoes when the weather gets cold. And it does get very cold in Chicago in the winter.

My favorite sandals are a pair of Tevas. I'm on my second pair of these. They are perfect - comfortable, no toe separator, waterproof, and durable. I got black - they go with everything. 

I have been wearing them everyday this summer. A few nights ago I took them off and dropped them in my closet, like always. In the morning I went to put them on and only one was there. Must have gotten shoved to the back of the closet, right? Or kicked under the bed. Or maybe I took them off over by the dresser and left one over there.

The missing sandal was not in the closet, under the bed, or anywhere else in the bedroom. Even though I knew that I had not been walking around with one sandal on, I looked in the other rooms upstairs, then in the living room, dining room, family room, and laundry room. Nothing. I also checked the garbage, which was out by the curb awaiting the garbage truck.

I told my husband about it. He suggested all the places I had already looked. He also said it had to be somewhere. I guess that's true.

Then I had the idea that since the sandals have quite a bit of Velcro on them that maybe the sandal stuck to something and got carried away. I checked the laundry basket and rechecked all the places I had checked before, except the garbage, which was now gone. Nothing.

It has to be somewhere, right?

As I moaned about how much I loved these sandals, that they were my second pair since I had worn out the first, my husband said, "You know you like these and you're going to buy another pair after this one, why not order another pair now? You're going to use it."

So, after another day without the sandal reappearing, I ordered a new pair. 

That single sandal must be somewhere, though. Right?

Music-making in the time of COVID-19

I am a 4th grade teacher, but I am also a musician, specifically a French horn players, or as we refer to ourselves, hornists. Before the pandemic, I was playing in three community groups regularly and subbing in another. Yes, this was really too many for someone with a full-time teaching job, but I do love playing. Once precautions were put into place to prevent virus spread, all of my groups stopped rehearsals and cancelled concerts.

Horn players are resourceful, though. The International Horn Society created an event, Hornists for Heroes, to recognize, support, and honor all the health care workers and essential workers who are continuing to work, often under incredibly stressful conditions. They commissioned a short piece from composer James Naigus that can be played by one, two, or more hornists, and asked horn players around the world to go outside and play it at 7:05 on June 22 in honor of those workers.

My horn group (a group made up of only French horn players) immediately made plans. We ended up with two groups because our membership comes from a wide area of the north, northwest, and west suburbs of Chicago. I was in the north group. Four of gathered in a small gazebo sandwiched between two busy streets in Mundelein. We brought our own stands and chairs and set them up 6 feet apart. We ran through the piece once, and then played our "official" performance at 7:05. The only audience was my husband and the wife of one of the other players. We followed up by playing some horn quartets for fun.

It was meaningful to honor those important healthcare workers. Groups and soloists from all over the world posted their videos on Facebook. It was amazing to see single players, groups of players, and even one person playing an Alpine horn (a very long horn made from wood)!

My little group had such a good time playing, that we agreed to get together about once a week in a backyard to play quartets for fun.

To be with friends, to play some music -- it's a great feeling!

Pandemic Hair

At the start of our shelter-at-home adventure, my husband stopped shaving. I think it began with an extended lazy weekend kind of vibe that just continued. Eventually he had an actual beard. He had never tried to grow a beard before, but this one just happened while we were sitting around the house.

Beards need attention, just like the rest of our hair, or they just look bushy. Which is fine, if that's the look you're going for. My husband did not want that look, so he went online to look at beard trimmers. Apparently millions of American men grew pandemic beards, because there are no beard trimmers to be had. Beard trimmers have joined toilet paper, kleenex, and paper towels as a scarce commodity. Fortunately, scissors also work! The beard looks good.

For myself, I last had a real hair appointment in December. My son got married in February and I went for a styling for the wedding. No cut and no color since December. Even though the salons are open again and are taking precautions, it's still not a good choice for me. And, I made the decision to stop coloring my hair. It's growing in, looks like silver mostly at this point. I'm lucky because my colored hair is light already, so there's no dramatic line dividing the dyed from the natural.

When people ask why, well, there's the expense and the time sitting around with awful smelling goop on your head. I didn't feel it was a healthy choice to keep coloring. And I have decided that it's okay to look my age.