I chose the rabbits as my objects because I have not seen my friends as much during quarantine, and the rabbits have helped me to not feel lonely. My relationship with them has changed because I have spent more time with them than ever before. The rabbits sleep in a hutch in the backyard, but I take them out to the pen in the front yard almost every sunny day. I take them outside because they need exercise just like humans.

Last year one of the architects in our practice started hosting Watercolor Wednesdays – a bi-weekly lunch hour dedicated to painting with watercolors open to anyone in our Seattle office. Prior to the COVID-19 quarantine, it always seemed to coincide with a meeting or telephone call and I was never able to participate. When we started working remotely in mid-March, the group reinstituted Watercolor Wednesdays, this time connecting virtually through Microsoft Teams. Because the group meets online, anyone from our six offices is able to participate. A single image is shared onscreen and the group paints together for one hour. It has become one of my favorite hours of the week, providing a much-needed bit of relaxation and focus away from my other work.

30 years ago, I took a watercolor class and over the intervening years wondered about reconnecting with this particular medium. Watercolor Wednesdays gave me the excuse and opportunity to do so. I was able to easily order brushes, paint and paper online and now look forward every other week to exploring different techniques, colors and representation with my colleagues. I particularly enjoy the layering of washes to create depth in the painting.

My object for this project was a small group of Redwood bonsai seeds. It takes a lot of perfect conditions for bonsai to be successful, especially in the beginning. I wasn't very lucky and even though I had as many of the conditions right as I thought I could, no dice. I was tending to the soil for probably a month and a half before I asked Kate's grandma (Certified Master Gardener, yeah it's real) why nothing was happening. She told me that with plants, no matter how many things you think you have under control, it might not work out the way you expected. I was pretty bummed that even though I did it by the book, I didn't get any results. She reminded me that it's not supposed to be perfect with plants all the time. Each plant is different and sometimes we have to adapt to them. So with that, I started looking for another plant I could try to grow.

Before I found anything that I liked, Kate surprised me on my birthday and ordered a new seed starter kit to try. This time it was cocktail herbs (secretly for her use not mine haha) so I gave it another shot. With some words of encouragement and a new look at trying to grow plants from seed, after about two weeks of mediocre care they sprouted! It made me realize that things don't have to be so serious all the time, and that sometimes you just gotta let things happen. This really helped me because sometimes I get too caught up in what I'm doing and I try to make everything perfect.

In the middle of a pandemic things are far from light or fun. I think it's interesting that during this time I learned to take things a bit easier, and I truly had fun with this. Watching these plants grow has been just a small reminder that we have to keep growing and pushing forward.

This is a watering can that my Aunt Kerry gifted me for Christmas in 2019. Every year she asks for a list. She doesn't like to give surprise gifts. She likes to give people exactly what they want. I sent her a list of five or so things from a gardening supply store that I love. The watering can was top of the list, and a good price for a gift. I have a can already, but this one is premium. It has a metal rose (that's what the nozzle is called) with very fine holes so that the water doesn't spray heavily. It pours out like a soft rain.

I like to grow my vegetables from seed. Some varieties don't like to be transplanted after sprouting and must be sown directly outside. It's harder to be delicate when watering outside, but this watering can does the trick. I can water the seeds without disturbing them. And the can is large enough that I don't have to return to the hose to fill it frequently.

When I first grip its handle, my mind sometimes wanders back to 8th grade when I first read Robert Newton Peck’s “A Day No Pigs Would Die”. There’s a moment when the main character, Rob, pauses as he eyes his father’s tools:

Most of the tools were dark with age and their handles were a deep brown. But where Papa's hands had took a purchase on them, they were lighter in color. Almost a gold. The wear of his labor had made them smooth and shiny, where his fingers had held each one. I looked at all the handles of his tools. It was real beautiful the way they was gilded by work.

But once I start swinging into the dirt, whether to place a seedling, or to rip out a weed, I notice my handle is more soiled than it is gold. And that’s ok. It’s my favorite tool. The most versatile hand gardening tool there is. The shape is an old one, well established by the Bronze Age. The inhabitants of ancient Mesopotamia believed it was a gift from Enlil, the Sumerian deity of wind, earth and storms. Opposite the flat-bladed adze is the pointed pick. Separating these two features is a central eye. The all-seeing eye is wedged onto an oak handle. Though not quite gilded, my handle is worn and weathered. And as it tapers to a narrow terminus, I customized the end with a duct tape knob.

Chuck’s beard has improved our adult life together. For some reason it softens my mood towards him.

I always thought he would look better with one. More distinguished. More mature.

Without the beard, he looks really young....too young.

I also never knew it would feel so soft, I thought it would be scratchy. It is not.

I really do feel like I'm married to a different but the same person now.

My Xbox controllers mean a lot to me because I have been using them during quarantine and they really give me a way to play with my friends in a virtual world, because I obviously can’t see them in real life.

I’m gonna be honest with you (not to sound like I’m addicted or anything), having the Xbox has really changed my life.

I have selected a puzzle for this project because it is an activity I have been doing during the time of quarantine. Now that there are a few more things to do outside, Lynn and I are still making some puzzles, but not as much. Growing up I loved making puzzles, and I always made them with my mom. I think I have always liked them because it is a challenging activity, and to finish it you can’t give up. Whenever I start a project, I must finish it.

When the stay at home time happened, I was a little worried about how to teach the girls the things they were supposed to learn at school, but as I am a teacher it ultimately wasn’t so hard. There were some difficult moments. As their nanny, they didn’t see me as a teacher.

I love being with them and spending time with them. Summer is my favorite time because we get to do a lot of things outdoors like swimming, paddle boarding, etc. These two years as their nanny are going by super fast and I don’t even realize the time I have left, which is nothing. I am going to miss them a lot and I love being part of the McBride family!

Seven months ago, even imagining a 'pandemic lockdown' would have been a topic only a few creative souls could have envisioned. However, when confronted with just such an event, the one thing that felt normal in this strange new world was cooking. While I have always loved cooking, this pandemic provided reasons to cook beyond the love of good food; it became the foundation of daily family dinner.

Normal times, with work, activities, practices and travel, made finding time to sit down together as a family to catch-up very difficult. The new family dinner became not only the chance to catch-up, but also created an opportunity for Lynn and me to connect with our twins Cameron & Alissa, and a chance to provide meaning in a changing, chaotic new world.

The object that best epitomizes this pandemic lockdown is a cast iron pan that Lynn bought for me a few years ago, and that has established itself as my primary cooking tool. As my mom handed down her cast iron pan to me, I will in turn hand both her pan, and my new one, to my children. My hope is that this pan will not only be the source of amazing meals for my family, but will also be used by my children (and their children) at the center of multiple generations of family dinners.

I use this blue Moleskine journal during the school year. Every day at 8:00 AM the children gather at the kitchen table and report what their Schoology account asks of them for the day. I record this in the blue notebook and with God’s help try to do what I can to educate these young souls. Homeschooling started in March and continued through the end of the Spring semester. Now we are starting up again for Fall 2020 and it looks like we will be using this notebook as a homeroom for the foreseeable future.

I’ve found great joy in baking over the past several years. It allows me to be creative, to experiment, to create beauty. I love exploring new flavors and buying the “right” ingredients like a real vanilla bean or a fluffy cake flour. Pre-Covid, I was primarily focused on sweet baked goods, but when confined to our house, it was time to explore a new feat: Sourdough.

I’d never baked bread before, nor had I ever had my own sourdough starter. I was excited yet intimated with how to handle this wily living beast. I read websites, all with slightly different instructions on how to feed a starter, how to keep it alive, and how to properly use it. My first experiment was “sourdough popovers” (quick dinner rolls). I fed the starter throughout the day, marveling at it expanding in size beneath the thin tea towel. The popovers were a quick success and encouraged me to try a more difficult task, making a “crunchy bread”. The process took two days, growing and feeding the starter, allowing the dough to rise and fall. I was hopeful that it would measure up to the quality of store bought “crunchy bread,” a staple in our family. Although it tasted ok, its color was too pale, and the crust was not crisp enough. It did not meet my expectations, so I kept trying, experimenting with different methodologies of baking, preheating the pan, using a Dutch oven, spraying water on the dough to create steam, keeping the lid on, taking the lid off, baking for a longer period of time, baking at a higher or lower temperature. Eventually, I created a bread that I was incredibly proud of. That is the bread that I am holding in this photo.

Finding the right formula to create a successful bread is similar to learning to live in quarantine: it’s a lengthy process and takes time. It doesn’t have an absolute solution. It requires perseverance. It is difficult. Yet, it has also brought me incredible joy to share not only this bread, but also this unique and extended moment in time with my husband, Damien, our daughters, Alissa and Cameron, and our au pair, Angela.

With the virus limiting our social interactions, my headphones have become a way to access the outside world. They allow me to listen to music and podcasts as I work, and with libraries closed, to enjoy audiobooks. Books have always been important to me, as a source of inspiration and as a means of managing stress... I often go through 3 or 4 a week, everything from trashy fiction to physics and philosophy. Over the last few months I've become increasingly restless, with a need for greater stimulation and engagement. Since so much of the city is shut down, audiobooks are one way to address that craving. And while this may not be as satisfying as discussing or debating ideas in person, the simple act of listening can be therapeutic in itself. When you're feeling disconnected and isolated, sometimes it's reassuring to hear another voice (even if it's a recording).

At the same time, the headphones help remove me from my immediate surroundings. In a city where apartments are small and expensive, I consider this a healthy and necessary part of living with other people - especially in the midst of a pandemic, when everyone is working from home and deliberately staying indoors. This can be uncomfortable, even claustrophobic; however, it can be offset by the creation of mental space, with the headphones acting as physical barriers, and the audiobooks drawing my thoughts elsewhere. As a sort of escapism, this can be a comforting distraction.

To some extent, these are conflicting impulses: the desire for greater connection and interaction, alongside the need for more separation and personal space. I think they both represent a longing for greater control, over when and how I interact with my environment - which is perhaps understandable, given how thoroughly the virus has disrupted our daily lives and routines.

I love my bike. I love that it is gray and pink. I love the sound it makes when it rides - a little clunk, a little wobble. At the height of quarantine the kids and I would RIDE THE RIDGE (a quick 3 mile round trip to Mt. Baker) every day before or after lunch. The rides were a great way to be alone together and, maybe most importantly, in motion - we’d interrupt whatever grumpiness our cobbled-together-home-school-crazy brought and start the afternoon fresh and free!

Since the pandemic hit, I’ve started running more regularly than I have in years. I go 3-4 times per week now. It’s been so much easier since I have been working from home. At 4:30pm, I shut my laptop, put on my running shoes and go. I love getting outside and it’s an amazing stress reliever.

Another great stress reliever for me? Wine. And plenty of it. I can’t decide which is better. The running or the wine. Regardless, I am incredibly grateful to have both. They are things that I can rely on during a very unreliable time.

In general, I feel like my work/life balance has improved dramatically since we started quarantine. I no longer spend more than 90 minutes per day in a stressful, soul-sucking commute. I can throw in a load of laundry between work meetings. When I am stressed out about work, I can go sit outside in my yard or snuggle my cat. I rarely work late anymore. I guess it’s ironic that when we are not free to do a lot of things, I actually feel more free in some ways since I no longer feel chained to my desk. Who knew?!

I’ve always loved cameras, though I’ve never geeked out on them. The first one I owned was a Kodak from the early 1980s. I wish I still had it. Then my Uncle Ken gave me his Canon AE-1 with a bag full of lenses. I learned to use this setup in college, and it led me through a semester in Europe. My first digital camera was a hand-me-down that I bought from my friend Christopher. It was a Sony, so I guess that set me down the Sony road.

I have owned my Slik 1000 tripod since the late 1980s. It has been a warrior, but in the last year, while its metal parts still work, the few plastic ones have started to fail. It is still functional, but I’m looking.

My camera and tripod have served me well during Quarantine. They have led me on late night walks, journeys through the Arboretum, and up the Duwamish River.

This book would not exist without these tools, and I owe them my gratitude.