covid19 – Designing Goldilocks

Too early for fall decor

There are two camps today in the decor world:

Those who think it’s too early to decorate for fall and those who think it’s never too early to decorate for fall.

I fall into the former camp.

It’s August. It’s Arizona. We’re still dealing with 100-plus-degree temperatures outside. No amount of plastic pumpkins is going to cool the weather or make autumn come faster. No amount of maple leaves strewn across the walk are going to psyche me into thinking it’s 60 degrees out.

Besides, I don’t hate summer. In fact, I’ve come to enjoy it.

Summer loving

Summer is Phoenix’s slow time. The off season. It’s the time of year that fewer people are in town (though I wouldn’t know from experience anymore since I rarely leave the house).

Summer is the quieter season. Hardly anyone is outside. Neighbors walk their dogs or venture outdoors for exercise in the early morning hours or later at night, and the walks are pretty quick. It’s a virtual ghost town compared to winter months.

Summer is hibernation time, which works for my hermit tendencies. There’s nothing more comforting on a blazing-hot day than air-conditioning, the sound of cicadas and an afternoon nap.

But here’s the real truth.

Enjoy today

Pumpkins lead to turkeys, which lead to snowmen and Christmas trees. Then, we’re at the eve of the New Year.

I’m in no rush to see 2020 end. Not because it’s been a fabulous year, but because it hasn’t been a fabulous year. Sound crazy? Let me break it down for you.

The years move fast enough as it is, and 2020 has moved faster than any of my 48 years. Time is slipping through my hands, and I still have a lot goals I want to accomplish.

On a larger scale, I want to hold onto the year so that something good can come of it. Even though the chances of that are slim, I can still hope. If this still doesn’t make sense, let me flip it around for you.

What will 2021 bring? Maybe a vaccine. Maybe social change. Maybe peace on our streets. The new year could bring all of those things, or one or two of those things. Or it could bring none of those things.

What if 2021 is more of the same, or worse? So why wish away the time we do have? Why wish away our lives for something that isn’t guaranteed?

Besides, I’m not 100 percent certain that nothing good has happened in 2020.

Small joys

Take this blog, for instance. This blog had been in the works since 2018 when John and I decided to buy a new house together. I had big plans for decorating each room and sharing the journey on a design blog.

After some procrastination, I finally put my butt in gear, bought a laptop and got to writing. Because I have a full-time job, I knew I would have to devote evenings and weekends to the blog.

But not even two weeks after launching Designing Goldilocks, my employer told me to work from home until further notice because of the coronavirus. That meant I could turn the two hours per day I spent commuting into working on content for this blog. What a gift.

That’s not to say I’m thankful for the virus. Nothing could be further from the truth. Does 2020 suck? Yes, it does. But I also believe we can find small joys in 202o if we simply stop and look around.

Discoveries

And that’s exactly it. No one stops anymore. Everyone is on the go. Chasing the next thing rather than enjoying what they have. And I’m guilty of this myself, which is why I can speak to it.

If nothing else comes out of 2020, I would hope that I at least realized what’s important in life. Even though I write a design blog, I’m taking a more minimalist approach to home decor.

I’m buying what’s essential – rugs, curtains, furniture – and saying no to tabletop items, which is really all that fall decor is.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s fun to shop for this stuff and decorate the house and lawn. One of my guilty pleasures is watching others venture into stores and sharing on social media new finds from Target, HomeGoods, and other decor stores. But it’s no fun taking down the stuff and finding a place to store it.

Stuff is not important. It’s who you have in your life that’s important. The coronavirus hasn’t kept me from my stuff. The virus has kept me from family, friends, and the freedom to explore the world and the gems within my beautiful state.

Rather than rush to set up hay bales on my front porch, I long to travel to real pumpkin patches and sunflower fields. Rather than create a fall facade across the lawn, I long to drive to the mountains and see real leaves changing colors.

But I can’t have that. At least not right now. Maybe I can spend time with family and travel a year from now. But there’s no guarantee. So why rush the time away? I know what I have today. And I’m okay with today – the joys, the warts and all.

*As fall approaches, I long to visit pumpkin patches and sunflower fields. Photo by Cindy Hernandez*

DIY: A window valance

If you were to fast-forward 1o years into the future and research homes that were decorated solely from online purchases during the pandemic, you would see my house.

When I say I only shop online, I truly mean I only shop online.

I don’t remember the last time I stepped foot inside a store. It may have been Target earlier this year. And it was only because I needed a humidifier.

Before that, it was probably an At Home store last fall for bathroom accessories. And Macy’s in December, but that was for Christmas shopping.

I was slowly decorating the home and buying pieces as I gave myself permission to.

But when you’re in a pandemic and strongly encouraged to stay home, what do you do? You put the decorating plan into high gear.

And when you shop only online, you have to hope your vision for the space plays out well in real life.

I have been fortunate when shopping online at Target because I already know what the decor items look like. Besides, a faux plant is a faux plant is a faux plant. How wrong could it be?

But there are only so many fake ferns that one can buy before you have to face the fact that if you don’t want your style to grow weeds, you’re going to have to trust your judgment and take some chances.

Enter window treatments.

The house came with blinds as a standard feature, and they are perfectly fine on their own. But I always envisioned adding curtain panels to spruce up the window and add a touch of elegance to the rooms.

But a professional job would have meant booking an appointment for someone to come into the house to take measurements and install.

And as you may recall from my last blog post, I am not allowing strangers into my home for the foreseeable future. (See “Home repairs in the age of Covid,” August 3, 2020.)

So that meant shopping online for rods and curtains. Because neither John nor I had hung curtains before, we decided to start small: the window in the bar room.

John wanted a green valance to go with the Irish vibe in the room. So I searched. And searched. And searched some more. But the only green valances I could find were for kitchens or Dutch doors. Not exactly the look we wanted in a home bar.

Also, the bar room is adjacent to the living room. So whatever style we chose for the bar room would have to complement the living room.

Then finally, I happened upon a maroon valance at Target with a swag reminiscent of a herald’s banner, which ties into the pub vibe. The valance scrunches a bit too much for my liking, but it only came in one size.

The color wasn’t our first choice but the maroon works with the dark wood tones in the bar and mirror. And it complements the grey, black and white colors in the living room.

For the rod, I picked a simple matte black French pipe that matches the foot rest at the base of the bar. Of course you can’t see the curtain rod, but I know it’s there.

The rod and valance were delivered the following week. The rod came with an anchor, but the weight of it was light enough that we would only need the screws.

The next weekend, John set up the ladder and drill and got to hanging the rod. For those who are new here, John suffered three strokes almost three years ago that left his right hand almost useless.

So that meant drilling the screws into the wall and holding the rod with only his left hand, all while standing on a ladder. Did I mention he was right-handed before the stroke?

Because I tend to overly supervise in these situations, I was more useful to John siting around the corner while he did the installation himself. And can I tell you what a wonderful job he did?

The rod extends evenly across the window. The valance is straight. And the treatment provides the warm homey feeling we were hoping for.

With the window in the bar room done, it’ll soon be time for bigger DIY projects: curtain panels and rods for the large window in the living room and – gasp! – the sliders in the kitchen.

I’ve already started shopping online. But don’t tell John just yet. I don’t want to scare off my personal handyman.

Home repairs in the age of Covid

So you’ve been staying home as much as possible, taking all of the necessary precautions to keep yourself and your family safe from the coronavirus.

You only leave the house when it’s absolutely necessary. You wear a mask in public. You have most everything delivered. You’ve done good.

But a few months have passed, and while locking yourself in your house is working, life isn’t stopping. Situations where you’ll need to interact with other people are cropping up.

What do you do?

Home inspection

John and I had to face this situation recently. We were coming up on a year of being in the new house and wanted to provide the builder with a list of potential fixes.

There were minor things we were aware of, such as a door not closing properly. But to uncover problems we could not see or were not qualified to detect, we had to hire a home inspector.

This meant someone would be in our home – in our personal space – for a couple of hours touching doorknobs, window treatments, and more.

There wasn’t much discussion about it. John and I knew it had to be done. If we thought we would live in this house forever, we may have chosen to accept whatever issues existed and forgo the home inspection.

But because we plan to sell the house in a few years, we knew it would be better to have the builder make the fixes now rather than hope the coronavirus would let up and pay for the fixes ourselves for a prospective buyer later.

Even if it meant allowing a stranger to come into the house at the height of the pandemic.

Establish safety guidelines

Shortly after I started working from home, I had a conversation with a co-worker who was still grocery-shopping in person. I asked her if she was scared. She said yes, but that she wears a mask, shops in the early hours when the store isn’t as crowded, and prays.

John made some phone calls to home inspectors and found one he liked. The home inspector agreed to wear a mask and gloves while in the house and practice social distancing. We set up the appointment.

Because I still work from home, I took the day off. I wanted to be available for any questions or concerns the home inspector might have. But I also wanted him to feel free to inspect the house thoroughly, and not short shrift my work area in order to keep his distance from me.

The process was painless. The inspector wore protection as agreed upon and kept a safe distance during conversations. He wrote up his report at home and e-mailed it to us later to limit the time he spent in our house.

Build up courage, again

The home inspection was behind us, but it was only the first step in the process. Now we had to submit the report to the builder, and meet with the contractor to go over the details.

This meant establishing safety guidelines again and opening our house to another stranger. I took another day off.

Similar to the home inspector, the contractor wore protection and kept a safe distance as he walked through the house, reviewing what the inspector had documented.

He even scheduled some of the exterior work to be done that day to get the ball rolling. For the interior items, the contractor established a schedule that would cause the least amount of disruption to our lives.

But he left it up to us.

Did we want as many tradesmen in the house at one time in order to get the work done quicker?

Or did we prefer limiting the number of tradesmen in the house at a time but schedule the repairs over the course of several days?

We chose the latter, even though it meant building up the courage again and again to open our house to strangers.

The contractor also promised to let the companies know to send their people out with masks and gloves. But as a commitment to our health and well-being, he would leave protection behind for anyone who showed up unprepared.

John had a stroke a few years back and falls into the high-risk category. Because we share a home, I too must take every precaution necessary so as not to pass anything on to him.

Open house

The first few days of repairs went off without a hitch. The tradesmen were punctual, professional and showed up with their own protection.

We had men fixing seals around doors, blowing insulation into the attic, patching and painting stucco, and filling in grout lines.

People were coming and going with John serving as the foreman. It was like that scene in the 1980’s comedy-drama Mr. Mom, but without the steamy shower.

One worker showed up without a mask, but was happy to oblige when John handed him one.

Ongoing work

And no I did not take additional time off. The room in which I work only needed one fix, which took about five minutes. It was quick and easy. Plus, I didn’t want to chance taking the day off and not have a tradesman show up.

In fact, one of the companies did have to cancel, which leaves a few repairs undone. But with the Covid-19 cases at an all-time-high right now, we took it as a sign to hold off.

And so we wait. And pray. Knowing we will have to work up the courage yet again to open our house to strangers to finish the work.

*Even in the pandemic, it may be necessary to allow a stranger to come into your home to make* repairs. The best you can do is require they wear masks and gloves, and then pray. Photo by Cindy Hernandez.

Social-distancing Goldilocks

NOTE: Arizona Gov. Doug Ducey held a press conference Thursday afternoon to say the state has enough hospital beds to accommodate the rising number of reported Covid-19 cases. His comments were in response to one of the state’s health systems saying last week that they would hit capacity if the numbers continued to rise. Ducey added that he supports the public wearing face masks when it is not possible to social distance. Even though he has been seen in public doing neither when both were possible.

The number of confirmed cases of Covid-19 in Arizona is climbing, and there’s no indication the governor will issue another stay-at-home order to help slow the spread.

Not that I’m surprised.

This is a conservative governor.

A businessman.

If the coronavirus is hurting their bottom line, Gov. Doug Ducey is not about to make it worse for businesses by closing the economy again.

But that doesn’t mean the citizens of Arizona, or any other state that has an open economy, cannot issue their own stay-at-home orders.

And by that I mean, citizens can choose to limit the time they spend in public.

I’ve been social distancing since March 13, the day after my employer sent me home with my laptop.

I only leave the house for essential reasons. When I do leave, I wear a mask and take the safety precautions set forth by the Center for Disease Control.

I spent Mother’s Day visiting with my parents on their front porch for 15 minutes while wearing a mask. Last week, I helped my parents clean their house all while wearing a mask and keeping a safe distance.

Do I like it? Of course not. But if it saves my life and the lives of my loved ones, I’ll do it. And I’ll keep doing it.

Just because the economy is open doesn’t mean I should shop for groceries in person, meet friends for lunch, book a trip to Vegas, and have the family over for a cookout.

No, I have a brain.

I can read the numbers.

I can think for myself and take responsibility for myself.

If I want to limit my time in public, I’ll limit my time in public. My life cannot wait for the governor to put restrictions in place to help slow the spread.

Heck, Ducey doesn’t even wear a mask in public. You would’t know there was a pandemic if you saw him.

New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo has been a true leader in this regard, closing the Empire State until its numbers peaked.

Ducey, on the other hand, followed President Trump’s lead early on and issued stay-at-home orders for non-essential businesses.

But businesses suffered. People lost their jobs. Citizens showed up at the state Capitol to protest the order and demand Ducey reopen the economy, which he has done in phases, with the numbers to prove it.

As of this writing, Arizona has over 29,000 confirmed cases with 1,000-plus reported deaths, according to the state’s Department of Health Services. The health director followed it up by telling hospitals to activate their emergency plans.

Ducey should have extended the stay-at-home order until Arizona reported a steady decline in numbers. At least it would have been worth closing the economy.

But to close the state for a month or so, I am not sure what was accomplished. And now that he’s let the order expire, there’s no going back.

People don’t want to be told they cannot leave their homes. Even if it’s for the greater good. Businesses don’t want to be told to close their doors. Heck, not everyone’s convinced there’s even a problem.

The media have calls into the governor’s office asking about a stay-at-home order. And I get why. With people running around town without protection, we’re all at risk.

That’s why I continue to stay at home as much as possible, wear a mask in public, and practice social-distancing.

The governor, on the other hand, has been silent. Even if he chooses to keep the economy open, he still should address the good people of this state and make his case. At least then I could respect him for owning his decision.

Masks are just one of the precautions I take to keep myself safe from Covid-19. Photo by Cindy Hernandez

Do essential oils help you relax?

I’m always looking for ways to relax to help reduce anxiety and get out of my head.

Everything I have done over the years has worked.

Exercise. Herbal tea. Meditation. Writing.

As long as I do them.

But my need to relax hasn’t been this fierce in years. It started in March with Covid-19.

What if I catch the coronavirus?

What if I pass it on to a loved one?

What if we die?

What if we survive the virus but live with chronic conditions?

My anxiety was through the roof.

But I managed, thanks to the structure I created for myself.

I work a full-time job. I pay my bills. I run my household. Because that’s what I’m supposed to do.

After the workday, I’d sit with my phone and view content from the design community I follow on social media. In between the shiplap and peel-and-stick wallpaper were stories about essential oils.

Essential oils.

Drops of oil you add to water in the reservoir of a diffuser, which works like a humidifier, infusing scents into the air that also help with emotions, such as anxiety.

At first, I just tapped through the stories. I have a sensitivity to scents. The last thing I needed was a splitting headache from something that was intended to help me relax.

But the more I saw stories about them and the more I worried about the virus, the more I wondered, “Could these oils help my anxiety?”

Then I remembered a bottle of oil I bought in Sedona a couple of years ago. It was right after John’s stroke. We had taken a trip for a few days to get away from everything.

In between the crystals and red rocks was a store that sold oils. I remember telling the salesgirl that I’d been having headaches and tension down my neck.

But again, I have a sensitivity to scents, except to peppermint, which actually helps me breathe. That’s when she told me about a peppermint oil. The scent was hot and cool all at the same time. Heavenly.

The .3-fluid-ounce bottle of oil cost $16.95, but I was ready for relief. I didn’t buy a diffuser. Instead I’d dab the oil behind my ears and on my wrists. When I felt anxious, I would take sniffs straight from the bottle.

Then life got busy and the bottle got shoved into a drawer. Fortunately, the bottle resurfaced after the move into the new house.

After learning more about the oils on social media, I pulled out the bottle and thought, “Huh! I purchased an essential oil before I knew essential oils were cool.”

That’s when I decided to take the plunge. But because I wasn’t sure I would like them or if they’d even work, I settled on a reasonable diffuser and a 3-oil kit by Design from Target.

Now I was curious.

What would they smell like?

How would they make me feel?

If I diffuse in the mornings, could they help set the tone for the day?

If I diffuse in the evenings, could they help me unwind?

With each passing day, I grew more eager for the diffuser and oils to arrive. But for whatever reason, the order was delayed. Not once. Not twice. But three times.

Of all the online orders I had placed since avoiding the stores because of Covid, this was the one that had to be delayed – three times, mind you. The one that contained items that were going to help me relax.

So I waited. And waited. And waited.

Sometimes I would open the front door just to see if they’d surprise me.

The diffuser and oils finally arrived five days after the initial delivery date. And it wasn’t a moment too soon.

My anxiety had been up again with all of the unrest in the country. I couldn’t peel myself away from the news and yet the images on the screen were keeping me up at night.

I had made it a habit to let delivery boxes sit a few days before opening them. But not this one. I tore into the diffuser and oils the day they arrived.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that the diffuser was easy to operate. The oil set contained Lavender for calming, Balsam Fir for soothing and Relax Blend for peace.

I diffused the Relax Bend that night. My initial reaction was potpourri. Orange rind. Woodsy.

I set up the diffuser in the kitchen to enjoy as I prepped dinner and then moved it to the living room where I wrote for a few hours.

Later that night, John remarked that I seemed more at ease than I had been in a while.

Could it have been the oils?

Or was it that the scenes on TV were not as horrific as they had been?

The next night I began diffusing the peppermint oil I bought in Sedona and then left the room for about 15 minutes to talk to John upstairs. When I returned, the room smelled like Christmas.

I wrote for about an hour that night and hadn’t felt that calm in weeks.

Was it the oils?

Or was it my wanting to believe it was the oils?

It may be too early to say. But I’m liking how I feel, so much so that I’m thinking about ordering a diffuser for the bedroom. John wants one for the loft.

*Diffusing essential oils into the air could help with emotions, such as anxiety. Photo by Cindy Hernandez*

Anxiously Goldilocks

I’m sitting here, thinking about what to write.

The news is playing on the TV.

States across the country are instituting curfews – Arizona being one of them – and preparing for more destruction tonight and in the days ahead.

I’m tired.

I stayed up past midnight last night. I couldn’t peel myself away from the news. And yet, I haven’t stopped all day. I keep busying myself with mundane things.

I placed a grocery delivery for today. Paid bills. Put said groceries away. Prepped fruits and vegetables for the week. Cleaned out the refrigerator.

I made scalloped potatoes from scratch. I never make scalloped potatoes. I put a load of laundry in the washer.

I gave the kitchen sink a good scrubbing.

I wiped down the kitchen counters.

I’m writing this blog post even though I already had a post scheduled for today. I’m not sure what I want to say but I feel I should say something.

I texted my parents and asked if they needed anything before the curfew went into effect. Anything to help. Anything to keep myself busy. Anything to feel that I’m helping others. Taking care of the ones I love. Making a difference.

Even as I write this post, I have gotten up twice to serve scalloped potatoes to John. I’m finding busy work within my busy work.

This weekend marks 1 year in the new house, and this is not how I expected the occasion to go. This is not how I expected 2020 to go.

John and I followed news of the coronavirus late last year and knew it would eventually surface in America. But we didn’t know to what extent nor did we anticipate self-quarantines and stay-at-home orders.

We happily obliged. John falls into the high-risk category due to underlying health conditions. We didn’t leave the house for 2 weeks in March.

Even now we only leave the house when necessary. And when we do, we wear masks and gloves. We use hand sanitizer and wash our hands repeatedly. We wipe down surfaces. We have turned our bar room into a makeshift receiving room for deliveries.

I’m anxious by nature. And the launch of this blog couldn’t have come at a better time. It gives me an outlet to channel all of this energy.

I believe that is why I enjoy interior decorating so much. It keeps me occupied. It allows me to create order and to minimize chaos. It helps me to feel I have some control in a world where I have absolutely none.

The new house couldn’t have come at a better time either. Because there is so much to decorate and organize. So many plans to make. Even if those plans never come to fruition.

In fact, John and I reflected on the past year this morning. We talked about the things we thought we would have done. Like hosting family and friends more. Now we wonder if we’ll ever be given the chance.

But we are happy to have the house and each other. We couldn’t imagine living alone in our respective condos during the quarantine.

Nor could we imagine living alone with riots and destruction happening around us. And now this curfew.

We will happily oblige. John and I are homebodies by nature. We don’t understand the appeal of running around town for the sake of running around town.

Nor did we understand the reopening of the state in early May when cases of the coronavirus and related deaths were going up. So we made the decision to limit our time in public for the rest of the month and take a wait-and-see approach.

And now businesses are being ordered to close early because of the riots. And the virus has an increased chance of spreading because of the crowds.

But just as I said in my post, “Paralyzing Goldilocks,” March 26, 2020, staying at home by choice and staying at home to save your life are two very different realities.

My anxiety was at an all-time high over the coronavirus. And just when I was starting to accept a new normal, the riots begin.

I’m still not sure if I said anything in this post – but thank you for reading – other than to capture my thoughts at this particular moment in time.

What will the country look like when I wake up tomorrow? What will my state look like? My town? My neighborhood?

Because as we all know, the landscape is changing by the hour.

Paralyzing Goldilocks

The design blog you are reading was two years in the making. The idea came to me when John and I bought our house.

Construction of the house took a year.

Then there was the busy-ness of moving in. And getting settled. And then the holidays. I also needed a laptop.

After I ran out of excuses, I sat my ass down and punched out 12 blog posts over the course of a week just to “get some in the can” as we used to say in my newspaper days.

Most of these posts were written a month ago. And more posts are ready to be written if only I could peel myself away from news about CoVid-19 long enough to set out an Easter dish towel and take a picture of it.

I’m not alone.

Shortly before I launched the blog, I created an Instagram account – designing_goldilocks – and began following other design bloggers, influencers and hobbyists. Partly for inspiration and partly to share the love with them in the hopes that they would return the favor.

But in between the colored eggs, bunny figurines, and gingham tablecloths, I have realized these women have more than the love of designing their home in common with me. They have anxiety.

Instead of curling up in bed to IG stories of springtime tablescapes, I lie in bed and listen to their struggles of the day. My struggles of the day.

On March 12, my employer sent me home with my laptop in response to the coronavirus pandemic. I haven’t left the house since.

Not even to check my mail.

I haven’t driven my car.

I haven’t stepped over the threshold of my front door.

I ventured into the alley today to bring in the trash bin and immediately turned back when I saw two neighbors driving up on their bikes.

I’m afraid someone will pass the virus on to me and then on to John who falls into the sensitive group category.

Because I haven’t left the house, I have had to subscribe to a grocery delivering service. The first time a delivery came, I answered the door and retrieved the bags from my shopper wearing a mask and latex gloves.

The second time, I advised the shopper to put the groceries in the box that John set out on the front porch and then drive away. Once I deemed enough time had passed, I opened the door and retrieved the bags. Also while wearing a mask and gloves.

My anxiety is at an all-time high over this pandemic. I barely open the windows and let in fresh air for fear the virus is wafting in the air.

I feel fine when I’m locked in my office and working my day job. I’ve even taken on extra hours to keep myself occupied. And the extra money won’t hurt. But once I punch the clock, the anxiety kicks in.

I love my house and I love being at home. I’m a homebody by nature and never saw the appeal of buzzing around town on weekends. But social distancing by choice and social distancing to save your life are two very different realities.

The thought of something deadly lurking on the other side of my front door has made me sick. It has paralyzed me. And I’m not the only one. My fellow designers are living the same paralysis.

Maybe there is a connection between creating the perfect home and anxiety. There is something about order. Organization. Everything in its place.

I have kidded a few times these past two weeks about picking a fine time to start a design blog. Just when I’m about to write about purchases from my favorite stores, a global pandemic hits and forces retailers to temporarily close their doors out of an abundance of caution for their employees and shoppers.

But maybe the blog is just what I needed during these scary times. And not just to keep my mind focused on something I love, but for the community of women who otherwise would not have been in my life during these scary times.