Staying Sane and Happy in Isolation, by M.J.E.

When an October snowstorm brought down leaf-covered tree branches all over the city and onto the power lines, we were without electricity for nearly two weeks, and took in our friends who had neither a wood burning fireplace nor gas appliances. During the pandemic, lockdowns found people all over the world sheltering in their homes in isolation. In the dead of winter, with feet of snow on the ground, getting out of an isolated cabin can be not only dangerous, but sometimes impossible. Since we all prep, we have food and water and heat, our people are fed and the animals are safe, but now what? Here are some of the things we’ve done to keep ourselves and our families and friends sane, entertained, and filled with joy.

1. Sing. Even people who can’t carry a tune in a bucket can still belt out a song, or maybe can do “the talkin’ blues”. In German, it’s called Sprechgesang, “spoken singing” and a surprising number of people have talked their way through the lyrics including Lee Marvin, Lorne Green, Jimmy Dean, C.W. McCall, and a bunch of others. If someone in the house can play along on an instrument, that’s even better. The opportunity of a long winter can be used to learn to play an instrument; guitars, and keyboards are surprisingly affordable. It’s even possible to make instruments—have you ever seen a cigar box banjo? Cowbells, drums, washboards, and spoons are fun, too. We used to do Stars and Stripes Forever every Fourth of July on kazoos—yes, it sounded terrible, but it was also hilarious. We all know songs and have ones we love, especially Christmas carols. Singing and music, believe it or not, are good for your body as well as your mind.

2. Read. We have a massive library, but sometimes we want something new or old or different. If you have access to the internet (if you’re reading this, I’ll bet you do), you can download e-books from public libraries. If you live in or near a city or town with little free libraries, you can take a book and leave a book. If you find one of the little libraries empty, seed it with a few books (“who done it” isn’t likely to change when I reread a mystery, so those are easy enough to part with) and, in my experience, it will fill right back up in a couple of weeks. The Project Gutenberg (www.gutenberg.org) has an amazing array of free books, all old enough to be out of copyright, preserved from obscurity and ready to be reintroduced to the world. I highly recommend 19^th century science fiction: Jules Verne, H. G. Wells, Mary Shelley, de Grainville, even Edgar Allan Poe. Steam Man of the Prairies by Edward S. Ellis and The Mummy! A Tale of the Twenty-Second Century by Jane Webb-Loudon are two of my personal favorites.

Read to each other around the fire at night. Share a story and discuss it. Fair warning, sometimes this can lead to unexpected results. When my brothers and I used to read Shakespeare aloud, it naturally followed that this would lead to acting out the plays. Hamlet has a ghost and a sword fight—it doesn’t get much better than that.

3. Whittle. A piece of wood and a sharp knife are all it takes. A bit of a tree can become a toy, a useful utensil, a work of art. I have to warn you, falling in love with woodworking can lead to unexpected side effects like hand forging your own chisels and lathe-turning a mallet so lovely that everyone wants to borrow it. I found I began to look at random pieces of wood and visualize them being something else entirely. It’s possible to spend a lot of money on woodworking tools, but wood and a pocket knife are all you really need. There is something ridiculously satisfying about stirring a pot or eating with a wooden spoon you made by your own hand. In the dark days of winter, there are so many good, useful, beautiful things you can make for yourself and others.

4. Sew. Or knit or crochet or embroider or tat or weave. Again, so many good and useful things can be made at the same time you are talking or singing or listening to someone read to you. I like to snuggle down under an afghan and repair, salvage, repurpose, or create things for myself, my family, my home, even the critters (horses who readily spook at sounds can be calmed with knitted ear covers, and short-haired dogs sometimes need a warm coat in the worst weather). Knitting, one of my passions, is like magic. With two smooth sticks and some string, I can make hats, mittens, scarves, sweaters to keep my loved ones warm. Again, this can lead to unexpected consequences—growing cotton or flax, raising wool animals (like rabbits, sheep and alpacas), gathering cottonwood fluff. So far, I’ve managed to avoid these traps, but many of my good friends have succumbed. Fiber arts are genuinely addictive, but so worth it. The best quilts I’ve ever seen had the bits of a lifetime pieced into them—patches of fabric from grandmother’s kitchen curtains, Roger’s childhood pajamas, Mari’s dress from her first spring dance. What you make may not always end up being what you intended though. That cozy shawl I was making myself from some lovely yarn I got for a song at an estate sale was claimed by the cat before I even had a chance to bind off the last stitches. It’s now on his bed. All of these skills can be learned from on-line videos or books or from a friend or relative or a kindly fiber arts addict. We love to share.

5. Write. All that is required is a pencil and paper. Or a typewriter, or a computer. Write a memoir, a family history, a novel, a fairy tale. Write about your life and share it with your family, friends, strangers who need to know. My father wrote a memoir of his time during World War II, and his family is so grateful to have it. I’ve written novels, a novella (about surviving after climate disaster), short stories, and a bunch of articles, more for my own entertainment than with any thought of getting published though some have been. You don’t have to write something that is Pulitzer material, just what you think and feel or what you imagine. You don’t necessarily have to spend hours a day doing it—William Makepeace Thackeray (1811-1863) only wrote 1000 words a day and had a full time job, but managed to produce a body of work that takes twenty four volumes to contain. You’d be surprised how quickly an evening can pass when you’re telling a story, creating a world, or bringing characters to life. Unfortunately, those stories sometimes want to keep you up all night, but that’s why I keep a pencil and paper by the bed, to jot down things before they rob me of too much sleep. And not all stories have to be written down. Sometimes just creating and sharing them as a tall tale by the light of a fire is enough.

6. Draw. Again, all it takes is a pencil and paper. Or canvas and paint. Or a cave wall and charcoal. People have been drawing, making pictures and patterns for as long as there have been people, doing it to tell stories, to make their home and objects more beautiful, to share. Crayons or water colors or ocher or natural dyes and pigments can add color. Draw the world around you, people, animals, plants, yourself. Illustrate your notebook of useful plants, draw diagrams of the processes you use every day so they can be shared with your family and friends. You don’t have to be good at it. Just make a picture. Your skill will grow in time. And you will see the world in a whole new way. When I was a scientist, I saw trees through the eyes of a scientist, but when I learned to paint, they were new and different and beautiful in a whole new way.

7. Play. When that October snowstorm knocked out the power, we turned to playing cards, learning a new game none of us had ever played before. When the power was back, our friends’ daughter proposed that we keep meeting now and again to continue to play that game. When, without the internet or television, you can entertain a teenaged girl, you must be doing something right. My dad had a book of games that had the rules for nearly every game on earth, from football to croquet to a whole raft of cards games. It was like a treasure map. And, of course, there are board games, puzzles, crosswords, Sudoku, you name it. All are more fun when play in a group. My nieces and nephews are crazy for board games. My favorite cousins who grew up without electricity put together the most diabolical jigsaw puzzles I’ve ever seen. One in particular blew me away: a Civil War battle scene with 3000 pieces and all in shades of tan. If you know others who like puzzles and games, you can start a swap network. Or play games that don’t require any equipment at all, silly family games like Simon says, or twenty questions, and so many more. And there are so many games that only require a deck of cards.

8. Bake. Sure, we’ve been cooking three squares a day for forever, but this is different. Gather the tribe and make Christmas cookies or whatever else is special, unique to your family, like my husband’s Swiss great-grandmother’s pfeffernüsse. These are absolutely nothing like the German version, and they are amazing. Baking together can be ridiculously messy, but that’s half the fun, and the result is pretty nearly always delicious. This Christmas is going to be especially difficult for me because my mother, stepmother, and mother-in-law are all gone. I’ll be making their special family recipes, and I’m confident they will be there with me when I do. And I will be sharing those special recipes with the next generation so they don’t die with me.

9. Garden. The ground is covered with snow right now, and I am gardening. I’m sprouting seeds for fresh greens. I just planted a spring salad mix in an aluminum tray with a clear plastic cover. Here shortly, I’ll be planting some onion sets and radish seeds that I’ll be putting in the sunniest spot in the house. I’ve also plotted out my garden for the coming year (lots of tomatoes because I just got a pressure canner that’s been getting a real workout since Thanksgiving), sorting my seeds, and setting a schedule for putting things in the ground (I plant by the moon). And I am drooling over seed catalogs to see what heirloom varieties I don’t own yet. I’m also taking care of my indoor plants that bring life and air-purifying properties into our world as well as providing many of the herbs I cook with. Dreaming and planning for my garden and tending my indoor plants get me through the winter. If only I had a greenhouse. Maybe next year.

10. Teach. Finally, if there is something you love, and you are good at it, teach someone else to love it. My late best friend taught me everything I know about horses because she loved them and thought everyone else should too. From her I learned how to take care of horses, and how to ride at a dead gallop across fields and over fences, down embankments, and up them again—the Man From Snowy River had nothing on us. My husband knew a man who so loved baseball that he would take the time to teach anyone (no matter how hopeless) how to play if for no other reason than he could have someone to play with. But also, because he loved it and thought everyone else should too. Teach to share your passion, your knowledge, and to share your joy. Teach because each generation needs someone to show them the way.

Try some of these, or all of them, in times when you have finished your chores and are ready to relax in the security of your home with those you love. Sing, read, whittle, sew, write, draw, play, bake, garden, and teach. Stay sane, be happy.