Endings

 

The piles of boxes and bins have made their way upstairs, ready to be loaded into the van.

The past few weeks have been filled with me thinking 'this is the last time'.  The last time I will pack up a major portion of my studio and head (in this case) south to once again try to share my knowledge with others.

Neither of us is in our 30s anymore and we are tired.  So as I collected all the 'stuff' and Doug packed them into boxes and bins, I could see he was as tired as I am.  So I kept reminding myself that I don't actually *need* to keep doing this. 

I gave up the dark o'clock flights when I 'retired' in 2019, but the drive out to Alberta in June, and now this one, with covid still raging (and too many people 'ignoring' it) has meant more stress than I really want to deal with.

OTOH, I had to go to Vancouver for a medical appointment, so while it means we'll be away for longer than is comfortable, we are able to do two major things with just one trip.

So we have packed half of the kitchen (not really, but it seems like it) and will stay in the hotel room unless we need to go to my medical appointment or head on over to School of Sweet Georgia.  We will begin loading everything into their studio on Friday, and the rest of Friday will be spent getting all the prep work done.  If I need it, I can return Saturday to finish up.

Hopefully, if I've done all the thinking correctly, getting things set up the way I want means we should be able to get all the filming done in two days.  And then head home before the holiday traffic gets going - because it's Canadian Thanksgiving coming up.

Of course things just couldn't go smoothly, so yesterday our elderly microwave stopped working.  Doug has gone to see if he can get a replacement before we leave so that we don't have to worry about it when we get home.  And so I can heat my lunch today!  Because I'm trying to empty the fridge before we go.

The brain fog from the pain/painkillers has made all of these preparations far more difficult but I pushed through on Friday and Saturday and I'm as ready as I can be.  If I've forgotten anything, I'll just have to wing it.

It's really hard to face the 'end' of my teaching, but OTOH, I *can* still teach - just not in the way I used to.  But life isn't the way it was, and 'normal' means something completely different when it means I must continue to protect myself from an airborne virus.

One of the reasons I am working with School of Sweet Georgia is that they not only tell me they want to protect me, they actually make decisions that *will* protect me - like offering to wear N-95s while we film.  I will bring my HEPA filter as well, which will mean they probably won't have to wear them given it will be just the 3 of us.  But I appreciate their offer and am so grateful.

It is a pleasure working with the SOS team and I hope we can continue beyond what I am already committed to do (the live lectures, plus these two new classes).

I am considering teaching beginning to weave classes locally, in part because I don't have to travel anywhere and the guild room is fully loaded so I don't have to pack up my studio.  And I can make the class(es) be mask required and limit the number of students.

Because that is the guild policy right now - masks are *strongly* recommended, but also?  If an instructor requests masks, we will make their 'class' be masks on.  

If the craft is going to continue to thrive, we cannot start killing off our teachers by exposing them to a virus that could seriously impact their lives, and in some cases kill them.  I know several very experienced and talented instructors who are, like me, immune compromised.  We should be protecting our knowledge assets.

And while this may be 'selfish' because I am one of those people, if you protect *me*, you actually protect *everyone* in the room. 

When I was 25 I though I would be able to teach until I was 75 (if I made it that far).  This year I turned 72, so maybe 3 more years, if I can manage it.  But I think I'm really and truly 'done' with packing up half my studio.