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Walking the Fence

Walking the Fence

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These days when I need a quick break from the computer, instead of making my way to the office kitchen to make a cup of tea or get a glass of water, I leave the house, descend the deck stairs and stroll around the back yard.

It’s not a bad idea to inspect the boundaries occasionally, to find missing pickets or other spots where Copper might sneak out. And to monitor the undergrowth, this year’s poison ivy crop and the Arbor Foundation saplings, which are still scrawny but now as tall as I am.

I started walking the fence back in early spring when the ground was still hard and plants were asleep. Since then I’ve watched the season unfold from these leisurely strolls around the property.

Mostly, it’s such a lovely way to take a break — being outside amidst green and growing things. Taking leave, if only for a few moments, of the keystrokes that define my life.

Technological Wonders

Technological Wonders

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Like many people using one of the oldest templates that Blogspot has (are there any of us left?!), I often feel that I’m skating on thin ice, technology-wise. Some days, everything works perfectly. I log on quickly, answer emails, write this post, get into my work emails and early to-dos and scarcely a half-hour has passed.

Today was not that day. Today I could barely get online, seeing that dreaded buffering wheel go round and round and round. I needed to turn off my machine and reboot the internet booster, but I was waiting on a code that I needed to log on to a site where I build my company’s e-newsletter.

The code would only be available if I could log onto the Office 365 site and get into an alternative mailbox. So I waited … and waited. Eventually I realized that even if I could get online, the code time would have long since expired.

So I turned off the machine, rebooted the booster and — finally — success!

Yes, it’s a world of technological wonders. Until it isn’t.

Newest Room

Newest Room

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I write today from the newest room in the house, the one that is added every year about this time (usually earlier, since we’ve had such a chilly spring). That room is … the deck.

It comes in especially handy now, as the other rooms are, like the poet said, “too much with us.” I work in them, eat in them and sometimes (when napping, which is rarely) even sleep in them. In short, I am almost always either in the living room or the kitchen, and since these rooms have no door to separate them, this can become a bit monotonous.

Enter the deck, which runs two-thirds the width of the house and which has two distinct divisions of its own — the sunny section, where there’s a chaise lounge, a grill and two wooden rocking chairs; and the shady section, where there’s a glass-topped wrought-iron table and four chairs.

I’m sitting in the shady section now, having wiped the evening’s moisture off the glass and parked myself and my two computers at the far end, where I can look over the yard, the garden and the Siberian iris. It’s good to be back.

Four Years

Four Years

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Four years ago today I started what I still think of as my “new” job. I moved from print to digital journalism, from editing a magazine to being a jack-of-all-trades writer/editor penning op-eds, success stories, profiles, advertising copy and whatever else needs to be done.

On the Friday of my first week I wrote a brief history of the organization. Seven months later, I was sent around the world to report and write stories in Indonesia and Myanmar.

Before I started, my new manager told me that working at Winrock was a little like drinking from a fire hose. He was not exaggerating. There’s hardly been a dull moment.

Turns out, I’m a little addicted to the fast-paced workplace. I thrive in it, though increasingly it wears me out. But I always do better with too much on my plate than not enough. And right now, of course, I’m grateful to have this work.

One thing I know for sure, and I say this with great fondness: In this job, I’l always have too much on my plate.

(Street scene in Khulna, Bangladesh, just one of the amazing sights I’ve seen through my “new” job.)

Open Pavement

Open Pavement

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Last week I ran an errand that involved driving home via the commuting route I used to take B.C. (Before Covid). I came down Nutley, turned left on Old Courthouse then left again on Route 123 before taking a right on Hunter Mill then the rest of the way home.

There were almost no cars on the road, as you might expect, and as eerie as it was, the commuting self in me (homo commutus?) rejoiced. Here, finally, was something we all crave around here, something rare and precious — open pavement.

As these weeks of quarantine give way to something more ominous — weeks (months?) of uncertain re-openings, re-closings and second-guessings, I think back on those empty roads I saw last week. They were broad, they were empty, they were beautiful. But as we all know … they can’t last.


(An almost-empty road in Colorado. It’s harder to find pictures of empty roads around here.)

The Lounge

The Lounge

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From my seat on the new living room couch (I still think of it as new even though it will be a year old next month), I can see the monitor I drug home from the office. It’s sitting right where I put it on March 13, when I brought home file folders, plants and an extra pair of shoes. It’s sitting on a table which was itself placed “temporarily” in front of the mantel.

With shelter-in-place edicts in force until June 10 in Virginia, it seems like a wise time to create something more akin to an office. But I’m so comfortable on the couch. And when I want a break, I stand up and work from the counter or take a quick stroll to stretch my legs. When I return, I plop into oversized chair that is, if anything, even more comfortable than the couch.


I think about the ergonometric chair I inherited back at the office, how tall and straight it made me sit. I examine my posture as I type these words, stocking feet propped up on the coffee table, laptop in lap. 

The question is not, can I lounge while working … the question is, can I ever not lounge while working again?
Light Show

Light Show

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There is sunlight this morning! It matters more these days, the weather I wake up with. It will be with me all day, as opposed to office days, when I enter a box of glass and steel and often don’t leave it for nine hours.

But today the light pours into my house, and I know that in the morning it will come from the front of the house and in the afternoon from the rear. And as I sit here in the living room (one of my working spaces, being an office nomad of sorts these days) I can see both the front and back of the house in my peripheral vision.

It’s as if I can see the morning and the afternoon rolled up into one. A preview of the light show that is mine every sunny day, as long as I pay attention to it.

Drifting Westward

Drifting Westward

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Untethered by office routines, I find my days starting and ending a little later each day. This is especially true because I work closely with people in Central Time, so without the cues of the local office, I am being pulled into their frame of reference.

At some point, there will be a rude awakening. I will have to get up early, put on work clothes and make my way down to the office. But that time seems far away.

For now, we live in a netherworld where there’s work aplenty but not only can it be done from the living room couch, but it must be done from the living room couch (or some other remote spot).

So on this rainy Wednesday, as I sip my fourth cup of tea, I find myself drifting … ever westward.

(Not as far west as this photo would make you think, but a girl’s gotta dream!)

Driving In

Driving In

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Every so often, I drive to the office rather than taking Metro. Whenever I do, I’m amazed at how easy it is to get here. Public transportation turns a journey into a series of segments — the drive to the Metro, the Orange Line ride to Rosslyn, changing to the Blue Line for the five stops to Crystal City, then the walk from the Metro Station to the office.

On the other hand, driving in is all of a piece. Yes, there are directions to follow; there is merging, passing and the usual frustrations of life behind the wheel. But in terms of steps taken, it’s simple.

Why don’t I do it all the time, you wonder. Because I can’t, at least not easily.  The most direct route charges solo drivers up to $50 for the privilege of traveling nine miles on pockmarked roads. So unless I have a passenger, or the high-occupancy vehicle restrictions are lifted, I take Metro.

This is good for my carbon footprint, but bad for the only bottom line that really matters in the end —  time spent.

As I was strolling to the office from the parking garage this morning, I noticed how close it is to what will be our new office location. That may be incentive enough to drive in the long-way around (which is possible). Maybe that will be my treat to myself for the next year or two. A bit more simplicity, and, in the end, a lot more time.

Team-Work

Team-Work

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An email newsletter I edit has a feature we call Team-Work. We decided to use a hyphen, though the word is typically spelled without it. I can’t remember now exactly why we did that, except it had something to do with emphasizing the separate nature of those words, the “team” and the “work.”

I bring this up today because, perhaps like many of us, I thrive on a mixture of teamwork and solo endeavors. The percentages of the mix depend on many things, including how busy I am and how protective I am of the product in question.

Lately I’ve realized that I wouldn’t make a very good ghostwriter. Though most of what I write now is without a byline, I’m well compensated for it and believe in the institution. In other situations, I enjoy getting credit for what I write. Not exactly teamwork, but there you have it.

Which is why I chose the multicolored rag rug photo to illustrate this post. It reminds me of the power and the beauty that’s possible when many become one.