Mike's death; Betty's life...: 12/20/25

Saturday, December 20, 2025

Thursday, December 31, 2020

In the middle of the night, I felt the bed shift, which I frequently had when Mike was alive as he shifted his position. That was the first assumption my body made; I could feel my heart leap with joy. As I roused, I realized it was Elsa shifting in her sleep. I was not as joyful as if it had been Mike, but I still felt grateful to have something alive at my side.

Last night, as I rinsed off spilled lemonade off my left leg, it buckled. This morning I needed to quit my walk before I reached 4,000 steps. I felt confident I would make up the difference by walking up and down the house.

Only Yvette, Scott, and I were present at yoga this morning. Elise wasn't home from Paris yet, Joe was held up by a doctor's appointment, and Deb just decided not to come. My leg was bothering me enough that I wasn't looking forward to the yoga. I took the tennis ball from under my bed pillow and used it during class. I spent all the time with the ball under some part of my left thigh as I sat in the hard chair I used for the class. Doing this released the nerve sensation running down the side of my leg. I discovered that I could lift my left leg easily with the ball pressing into the back of my thigh. How does that compute?

I had a Zoom meeting with Dorothy to go over my presentation for the Step-Up program on my discovery system for learning phonics. In the middle of the session, my screen went dark, and I mean totally black. The black went right up to the black edge of the computer frame. Dorothy, however, had no change in her screen. She could see the PowerPoint I had shared, my image, and hear my voice. I could hear her voice, but that was all. I couldn't figure out how to get out to the black screen. We decided to quit for the day.

I tried to actually go through the presentation today. I was so tongue-tied as I did it. I sounded awkward. I could hear objections to what I had to say as I made the presentation. I have to be strong and tell people to save their questions for the end. I have answers for most of their objections. The problem is this system I have developed seems counterintuitive to them. They don't think this is what they do. They don't do any of this consciously. This is a system for learning to read, not reading once you've mastered it.

I needed a nap afterward. I slept for most of the morning. Damon called in the afternoon. While I was talking to him, I thought to check my messages. Yikes! There was a message from my hairdresser asking if I could make it there by 1; it was 12:30 at that moment.

The day before yesterday, I texted her to say that my hair still was okay; I wasn't desperate yet. Randee gives such great haircuts they look good for weeks after my next scheduled haircut. Yesterday, I texted her that I was desperate.

I hung up immediately from Damon and called Randee to say that I could be there shortly after one. I changed my clothes so I didn't look like I was dressed for winter, hopped in the car, and headed out. I made it there in time. Randee wasn't wearing a mask; she was wearing this upside-down shell. It was tight at the neck and open at her forehead. It looked like a great solution. She gave me another great haircut.

On the way home, I stopped off at the post office to drop off the two boxes of books I had in the car. My leg was good enough that it could bear the extra weight of a heavy box. I made it into the post office lobby to find the inside doors closed. Someone told me that they closed at 1 pm today. Oh, well. Some other time.

When I got home, I called Geico. I had received an email telling me that my policy would be canceled on January 23. I called and paid off the next six months. Then I called my local Internet company, Spectrum. I had two questions. Could Yvette and I secure a more stable Internet connection? Scott told us that we only have a thin cable connecting the service to our house. To get a thicker cable would cost 50 dollars. Given that both Yvette and I spend a lot of time Zooming, me for tutoring, and Yvette for her yoga classes, it will be worth it.

I also wanted to check if it would be more advantageous to have a business-level connection. The local person connected me to the sales department. I got a message that they were already closed. That office must be on the mainland.

I planned to call Sears and push them to make another effort to repair my stovetop. They already sent out three servicemen; they won't make any more efforts and offer a replacement after three tries. Their replacement isn't the same as the stovetop I have. Mike ha, a six-burner stovetop. While I certainly don't need that myself, I want to keep his design.

I hired a local Kitchen Aid repairman to check the stovetop. He saw a problem that the Sears repairmen hadn't considered. I know because I had a list of the parts the Sears's servicemen had ordered and the ones the Kitchen aid guy ordered. They're not the same. In fact, the Sears guys ordered the same part repeatedly. I hope to convince Sears to come again and look at the problem from the other guys' perspective. It will cost me $500 if I have to fix it on my own.

I took another nap. Well, I lay down and used the infrared gooseneck lamp on my leg. Walking outside is out for tonight. Firecrackers are legal in Hawaii. Elsa needs to be held by me at all times. As I wrote, she was tucked under one arm. She is doing better than Yvette's dog; they shake the whole night.

As I came out of my nap, I heard someone call my name. I looked out the window and saw someone at the mouth of the driveway. He said something about 'dog.' It looked like Ronen, my next-door neighbor. I was afraid that one of his five dogs had gotten out and was in my driveway. I finally got up to check out what was happening.

He said the dog he was concerned about was one of Yvette's. Little had slipped through the fence from our yard into theirs. Ronen had gotten her back into our driveway, but our driveway was open, and she could get out. He guarded the driveway UNTIL I got out there. Scott contacted me to let me know what was going on just as I got up. Poor little was standing by my side door wanting to come in. I picked her up, carried her down the driveway through the gate to the lower driveway, and confined her and the two other dogs in the house. She was shaking like a leaf. As I came back up the driveway, Josh came home. I went into the house and threw my sweatshirt right into the laundry basket; it was covered with dog hair.

Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Boy, did I get up late! The alarm went off at 5:30, as usual. I thought I’d sleep for another fifteen minutes; I got up at 6:30. The vog was so bad, I couldn’t make out the horizon. The sea and the sky were one.

I had an appointment with M at 9 am. we continued working on her story. Using co-writing, I can teach her all the elements of story writing and reading. It took us the full half-hour to complete the changes. It becomes less difficult to pull information out of her. There are some passages where the details of a situation just flowed out of her. I need feedback from her mother; I want to know if what I am doing has any impact on either of her children, M or H.

I needed a lie down after the session. I have been feeling very tired. II could be from having to breathe in the polluted air from the volcano. Sulfur fumes aren’t great even when they are 100% natural. This pollution is not man-made.

My tiredness could also be because I’m isolated. It could also be because L’Engle’s book, Two-Part Invention, details her husband’s travails after he was diagnosed with cancer and his death. De Je Vu all over again. While I am aware of how her experience reminded me of my own, I don’t think of myself as experiencing grief. However, that would make perfect sense.

Another problem was my hair. I managed to miss not one but two haircut appointments. Randee, my amazing hairdresser, said she would get me in as soon as possible. I told her not to worry; her haircuts are fantastic and looked good forever. Then the other day, I wrote that I felt desperation coming on. Today, I wrote, “I am desperate.” I feel so droopy. Will I feel better if I get all this hair cut off?

I had a session with D. at 11:30. I did a little with the visual perception exercise I have been working with. Today, I made a change; I had him make the shapes I made. I was working on my laptop; he was working on his mother’s iPhone. I figured ‘if he wrote with his index finger, he might be better off than writing with a writing utensil and holding it incorrectly.

I did some reading with him Today. OMG! He started off well, but he moment he came to a word he didn’t know . . . . No, that’s not accurate. There were a few moments where he stopped, considered, and came out with the correct word. However, there were other situations where he misread a word, scrambling letters, and was unbothered by the lack of sense. I must say, the passage was a grammatically complex one. However, when I told him to decode the word, he had no, I do mean no, idea what to do. I have taught him a procedure we covered every time we met, probably several times in the same session. This has gone on for a year now. He had no recall of the procedure I taught None! I knew he had a problem remembering his math facts, but this was a procedure he couldn’t recall. That’s a different part of the brain. I have no idea how to help this child.

I immediately wrote to his mother and his classroom teacher, encouraging them both to get Daniel evaluated. I wonder if this will do any good. The problem isn’t what he doesn’t know; it is that he had no memory. It isn’t that he doesn’t know all his multiplication facts; it’s that he can’t remember them no matter how many times you go over them. That, of course, is not quite accurate. His automatic recall is expanding. What’s missing is some conscious way to recall his ability to consciously retrieve information out of long-term memory.

As I wrote this, I had an idea. What if I explain how the mind works, how it recalls information; will that help? It has helped others. It is a long shot, but I don’t see that there is anything to lose.

I got a text from J. yesterday. I had told him that we wouldn’t meet again until next Monday. He texted to see if we had an appointment Today. He’s the most diligent, or is it a compulsive student I have ever seen? I told him again that I think he needed a break. I came to that conclusion after our Monday session. The work wasn’t that hard, but I felt like I was carrying a load of rocks up a steep hill. I concluded it was because he had had it.

We have been working three hours a week. If I could only give half an hour one day, he pushed for make-up time. I’ve never seen anything like it. He is prepared to work hard, very hard. I told him that a good student works hard and knows when to back off. Backing off, relaxing, giving time to absorb new learning is an integral part of the learning process.

I told him I thought he had made progress with reading comprehension. We had to work on his auditory processing to more easily understand what people had to say. No, his problem is not just because his parents don’t speak English. He has as much problem in Spanish as he does in English. His younger sister speaks both English and Spanish better than he does.

I told him if he wanted to work for the pleasure of it to let me know. Otherwise, I thought a break was a good idea. He finally said he wanted a break with a sigh.

I went back down for another nap. I was exhausted, and I had a good night’s sleep the night before.

Judy called as I was waking up. She apologized for not calling over the last few days. Right before she called, I became aware that I hadn’t heard from her. I assumed that she was busy with her own life, and I was slipping into the background. Oh, well. She assured me that was not the case. She didn’t call because she was dealing with a medical issue that was potentially serious and didn’t want to tell anyone and ruin Christmas. It was a shock. It could be bad—prayers from one and all for Judy.

After the call, I got out in the yard and did some work. I want to tend to the lower forty area next to my neighbor’s fence. It can become overgrown easily. I keep putting it off. It’s a huge job.

Tuesday, December 29, 2020

The full moon was orange as I walked this morning, an effect of the vog. I continue to feel down. Is it an accumulation of small cuts? Is it the effect of reading Madeline L'Engle's book, A Two-Part Invention, where she describes her last months with her husband? He went through much of what Mike did, a long period of hospitalization while he was kept alive thanks to medical advances. She was in the same position I was; she had to make the decision that led to his death. I finished the book last night. Maybe things will be better now.

I managed to get a fair amount done today and felt somewhat better by late afternoon. I did my half-hour of gardening, weeding really. I washed the kitchen floor. I did some prep work before calling Sears to see if I could convince them they should do more rather than write off my stovetop as irreparable.

After yoga, I spoke to Scott about changing the extension cord I use to charge my electric card. For some reason, Scott and Yvette changed it out a while ago. Before then, I didn't have any problems. The last two times I tried to charge the car, it didn't work. The charger shuts down for some mysterious reason. After I switched out the cord, the charger worked for the rest of the day. I have to try it a few more times to see if this alternative cord will work consistently.

I met with Eb today. I hadn't worked with her in several months. I asked her to read to me. Aside from poor decoding skills, it seems that she has a poor sense of language. She read a clause to me from a book she was reading for her class. When I asked her if there was something before or after the words she gave me, she had no idea what I was talking about. She didn't register that she hadn't read a complete sentence. Now the language was complex. Maybe if it had been easier, she would have understood what I was talking about.

I had a scheduled appointment with J, my Step-Up tutoring student. Our last session was grueling. That's weird for me. Something was wrong. The work wasn't exceptionally hard; it was just the effort was weighty. I told him that he should take a break. We have been working three hours a week. The tutoring program only asks for a commitment from the tutors of two hours a week. If I cut a session short, he pushed for a makeup. This is an eleven-year-old boy. What is wrong with this picture? If he was from an Asian family, I might say, "This poor kid, with his pushy parents." But his family is Guatemalan. I convinced him not to do the session today. I proposed we start up again on Monday. He had to learn to relax a little.

Monday, December 28, 2020

When I went to post this entry, all I saw was notes on what I had one that day- no details. Those of you who still follow may updates, get a day off.

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

This blog has surpassed 20,000 visits and not one comment. I would love to learn something about you. Thank you.

Sunday, December 27, 2020

I could smell the volcanic fumes last night. On the walk this morning, the horizon was badly blurred. Often these eruptions last for short periods. When we moved here, there was a continuous eruption that started in 1983 and finally ended with an impressive bang in 2018. Before that, there had been an eruption that lasted for five years. How long will this one last? Will it be over in a few days? Will it last for twenty years, if not longer? There is one thing I'm sure of: this is not the result of climate change. It's not my fault.

When I spoke to Dorothy this morning, I told her how I paid a tech consultant to download a Microsoft subscription onto my PC tablet to have the draw function on PowerPoint. Still, he hadn't been able to figure out how to download it onto my Apple. I know I paid this consultant fee to be sure that I was not being scammed again. This guy came through a local store. I know their address. I still feel that I went this route because it provided me with some company. I had spent all of Christmas alone except for the family Zoom connection, which was great. Dorothy said she thought she could help me figure out how to download Microsoft Office onto an Apple computer. She told me to get on Zoom to see my screen, and she would talk me through it.

After my morning walk, I sent Dorothy the zoom link. While I waited for her to check in, I checked my yahoo's inbox. There was an email from Microsoft with a receipt and a link for downloading the Microsoft Office program on other computers. This was great. Dorothy still talked me through it. When we had downloaded it, she showed me how to use PP's whiteboard. This way, I won't have to switch back and forth between PP and Zoom's whiteboard. This will be easier. She also showed me how to set up the slides, so only one line showed up at a time. When I first offered to do this demonstration, I planned to improve. Now, I have a polished and scripted presentation that I will have to rehearse. I want to record it, send it to people I know might be interested, and post it on YouTube.

I planned to go shopping right after we finished the Zoom meeting. I decided I needed a nap. Two hours later, I got up, showered, and did MELT on my hands and feet. While I air dried, I completed some back New York Times Mini Crossword Puzzles.

When I got in the car, I was surprised to see the electric charge at zero. I had charged it for hours. Okay, I would check it when I got home. For now, I could drive the car on gas. My first stop was Target. The parking lot was packed. Oh, dear. But it wasn't bad at all.

I headed to the electronics department. I wanted to buy a computer meeting light. I want my video to be as professional as possible. I ordered one on Amazon only to discover that I had ordered two. Both were over fifty dollars. While on the Zoom over Christmas, Cylin showed me the one they had. "Five dollars," she said. I figured Target would have something like that. Not a thing. I was able to find styluses.

I have developed a whole new relationship with a little soft-tipped stylus. I bought it to be more accurate when pushing keys on my phone. While I was on the phone with the tech yesterday, I looked for my expensive hard-point electronic stylus. I have no idea what happened to it. I tried the soft-nosed one. It worked like a charm on the touch screen of the PC. Later that day, when I did mini crossword puzzles, I used a stylus to touch the squares I wanted to fill. Bingo! Fantastic! Boy, it makes it so much easier than using the cursor. Something good came out of the situation. I sure could use something good.

While at Target, I bought some apples and more Hersey Milk Chocolate with Whole Almonds Kisses. I don't want to be caught short. Right now, these babies are my main food source.

I headed over to Office Max, sure they would have the computer light fixture. No, they didn't have it either. Not sure if this is just a Big Island phenomenon or countrywide. The salesmen at both Target and Office max talked about using clip-on reading lamps and regular table lamps. Must find out what Damon and Cylin are using.

Then to Costco. The Parking lot was bad but not as bad as before Christmas. I decided to risk it. I had a list; salad and lemons were my primary concern.

I passed large quantities of Firecrackers. The ones that only go to a person's height are legal here. I groaned, thinking about the poor dogs. Elsa and I will be locked in the library until the bang-bang is over.

Saturday, December 26, 2020

I've only been managing 4,000 steps each morning because the thigh muscles of my left leg start complaining. I am getting a greater range of motion in my right hip as I walk. This is what is creating the strain on the left. Again, two steps forward and one step back. I still do 10,000 steps a day. I do a lot of walking inside the house, back and forth, back and forth.

At the start of yoga, Yvette told as to look at the sky and notice the color. "Vog," I said. I haven't mentioned the volcano that erupted -again- on the 20th because it doesn't have much impact on me. It's one hundred miles away. But the vog, oh yes, the vog, that does have an impact. It's like one of those softening filters they use for old actors in the movie industry to make them look younger. What the filters do is dull the image. We now have a dulled image of the sky and the sea. As I lay there this morning, the sky directly above me looked blue, but a little to the left or the right; it was just haze. The horizon line is also a blur. I can still see the ocean and the sky; I have little to complain about, but I am complaining.

I feel down today too. Lightweight, empty. It's a weird feeling.

Dorothy knew of all these features in PowerPoint, specifically the draw feature. We weren't able to find it on my computer. She had done some research. When I called her, we tried to find it on my laptop. Nope. I had an old version that didn't have that feature. We were going to call a family member to figure out what I should do. I sent out signals to a few people and got no response.

I was not going to go with just any option. Doing that got me involved with the tech people who scammed me in the first place. I finally called a local support company, the one I took my computers to after I got through with the scammers. Someone called me back within an hour. He was in Oregon, where he now lives. He used to work for the local company but wanted to earn more money. His boss at 808 Computer liked his work so much, he offered him the opportunity to work remotely, so that's what he did.

Thank God I had him. It will cost me a pretty penny, but I could never have done all this on my own, at least not with confidence. I couldn't have expected a family member to stay on the line with me as long.

It was so good to have someone to interact with, even a stranger, over the phone. I told Chris, the computer guy, about my loss of Mike. It came up because we needed to find his old password for something on the tablet. I made my usual joke about his being so inconsiderate to die without passing on his passwords with his dying breath. I also told Chris about what I learned from my experience with the scammers. He knew about them because his company worked on my computers after the scammers got through with it or after I got through with the scammers.

I shared with Chris this weird experience I had with them. There is no way I didn't know there was something wrong, but I couldn't simply put the phone down and disconnect. Why? I concluded that I experienced a type of intimacy, which occurs between a hunter and his prey.

I have heard people say that they are attracted to people because they want to be with them 24 hours a day, simply can't get enough. Mike and I didn't have that. We were perfectly happy doing our own thing. What we did have was a connection that never broke. We always felt the other's presence at the periphery of our energy fields. We always were thinking/ aware of the other. We knew where the other one was. If Mike traveled, he called daily. Connection was vital. Now I have no one for who I am #1; I have no one who thinks of me all the time as some level of their consciousness or more over their unconsciousness. It leaves me wondering if I exist. Well, I don't exist in the world the way I did when Mike was alive. This is a new way to be. I'm sure I'll get used to it, but I will have to do some grieving first.

At the end of the day, I had bought a subscription for Microsoft Office again. I believe the scammers 'sold' one to me, but it wasn't on my computer. They couldn't have removed it as their last act, thanks to one of their techs this computer at the local computer store. I need an updated operating system. The tech I got said he couldn't download it without putting all my files in jeopardy. He told me to get someone local to do it. Not all the guys who work for this company are scammers.

Friday, December 25, 2020

It all seems pretty empty. I fill my day with nothing. I did some straightening, putting some things away that I have been looking at for weeks, if not months. I did some gardening. That's the best. I'm interacting with something other than myself.

Dorothy and I got together on Zoom to work on the PowerPoint Presentation. It was mostly her reading the slides and seeing if everything made sense. I love discussing the work with her; fortunately, she loves doing the work too. It is a good interaction for both of us for so many reasons; I get the presentation done too. I think the ideas I have to present are valuable. I don't think she is as invested in the process as I am. We already agreed she would reread the article I wrote after we finish the presentation; doing it has given her a whole new perspective on the work.

She had looked up some features of PowerPoint. She discovered it has its own whiteboard. If I use the one with PowerPoint, I don't have to go out of share, open Zoom's whiteboard, and then close that and go back into PowerPoint. She also came up with some way to add items to a single slide as you are making the presentation. I could do neither on my computer. Dorothy said she would do research on how to get it for me.

I feel I didn't do much. I am going to have to figure out how to live on my own. In the late afternoon, Jean, my hanai sister or my sister-wife, called. Oh, it was so good to hear from her. She puts out energy in a way I can relate to. When she puts out love to me- I feel loved. It's very comforting. We spoke for about an hour.

I told her about the family planned game Zoom get-together because I didn't want her to find out about it after the fact. I told her that she hadn't been invited because it didn't look like she enjoyed her time on Zoom. She has hearing problems. No, she was interested. I contacted Damon to let him know and Yvette so she could send her a link. I am happy she was there, and it worked out.

The Zoom meeting started at 4:30 Hawaii time, 6:30 California time, and 9:30 in New Jersey. Yvette, Mowg, Damon, and I were on immediately. We were waiting for Lilith, Dorothy, and Jean. Jean came on. Lilith would not participate; she was involved with her family on the east coast where she was visiting. I called Dorothy to get her plans. She said she was too tired to participate.

Damon had picked a game called Code Names. We were divided into two teams. Damon, Cylin, and Jean were one; Yvette, Mowg, and I were on the other. It was fun. Playing games is a good way to structure the interactions. We are still ourselves, interacting with each other. Child psychologists use play therapy with children. They use the structure of games to help children learn how to interact appropriately. We reveal ourselves, no matter what we do.

Thursday, December 24, 2020

Weird turned-down day. I felt I was running on a pilot light instead of a fully-lit burner like I did almost nothing all day, but that wasn't true. I had a session with M and one with J. I checked out the list of parts Sears had replaced against the list Conrey wants to order. It's clear to me they're not the same. I resolve to challenge Sears's decision to give up trying to repair the stovetop. They have already signed off on a replacement. From what I can make out, they replaced the same part three times. I want them to try out Conrey's proposed fix before I give up. Why should I spend $500 when I can get it for free with the Master Protection Plan?

M's mom texted me before the session, asking me to work on inferencing rather than the story. She told me that M spent the half-hour before our session telling her mom that she didn't want to work on the story. A few minutes before she responded to the Zoom link, I reviewed the story she started last week and decided it was too complex. She was talking about someone who was there and not there at the same time. When we were on Zoom, I told her what her mom had said and proposed that we start a new story, one that was about something that actually happened to her. She told the story of a family trip to the beach. There were places where I had to push her to give concrete details and places where she took off and did a perfect job.

I was supposed to meet with J at 12:30 my time, 2:30 his time. He didn't show up. I texted him and then his mom. Finally, I heard from him. He was cleaning his room. I assured him we didn't have to meet; it was Christmas Eve. He wanted to work on a story. It was a short one. This was the first time I didn't have to provide the prompts to get a topic: he had something in mind. We were done in half an hour.

I did some work on the updates, I meditated, but mostly I sat and played Free Cell, did the NY Times Mini Crossword Puzzles, and ate chocolate. I watch Tiny Pretty Things. It has a terrible script; the acting is poor because the primary requirement for these 'actors' was to be phenomenal ballet dancers; they all are that. There is lots of dancing. The choreography was wonderful.

I contacted Damon to ask if he could organize a Zoom get-together for Christmas. He suggested a small group instead of the larger one we had for Thanksgiving.

Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Not much of a day. I had two students scheduled for today; both canceled. In both cases, the mothers were out shopping. They were not the only ones confused. I was having a devil of a time remembering what day of the week it is and what my schedule is, and I’m one of the fortunate ones who has a schedule.

I called D’s mom when she didn’t respond to the Zoom invitation. She was in Target finishing up her Christmas shopping. It gave me a chance to speak to her. I told her I’m not optimistic the school principal will provide me with a DOE email address, which I need to access Google Classroom and access D.’s schoolwork. I told her I was not optimistic about being able to help D with his memory problems. I had tried everything I knew.

She said she had seen an improvement recently in his oral reading. That confirms what I thought. The visual discrimination exercise we are working on helps, but this does not touch his problems remembering his math facts. I told her he should be evaluated and be classified as special education or at least have a 504, allowing him to legally use a calculator to solve math problems in all school contexts, in classrooms, and on standardized tests. Classification will provide him some relief. She was in complete agreement with me.

D.’s ELA teacher called today. I shared with him information on D’s memory problems. He sees the same issues I see in D’s reading. Primarily problems with reading the words accurately. He didn’t comment on problems with comprehension. Quite to the contrary, he said D is a good participant in-class activities. I asked Mr. S.2 for information on D’s reading level. He didn’t know it offhand; he said he would get back to me. This is a good sign. It means he isn’t dramatically below grade level. Given the school, this could still be is a year to a year and a half behind.

Scott finished the platform and cover for the 250-gallon water tank I bought. He didn’t do any work yesterday because he had to drain it. He had set it up to collect water from one of the gutter downspouts. I thought it would take forever to fill up. Nope. It took one day of heavy rain. Amazing. Scott said he will have to install a filter of some sort so the sand from the roof tiles doesn’t fill the tank. Today he painted the covering. His next job for me will be installing the solar attic fan. These items are me preparing for the worst while hoping for the best. Two hundred and fifty gallons of water will keep us alive if the water is shut off. The water isn’t potable, but I have bought life-straws that make any water drinkable. It probably won’t taste good, but we won’t die of thirst.

I finished wrapping and addressing the box of books I had sitting on the library desk for a few days. I am experimenting with using the roll of butcher paper Judy gave me to wrap the boxes. I finished wrapping it with the scotch packing tape I bought from Office Max the other day. I hope it works as well as the duct tape. It doesn’t look like it can hold. I wanted the brown packing tape, but none was on the shelf. As I put the box in the back of the car, the scotch tape came loose. I can’t see how this is going to work.

I watch Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. Painful.

Tuesday, December 22, 2020

During driveway yoga, I announced my interest in a stem-cell transplant for my hip. I called one of the offices in Honolulu. I had called at the beginning of the pandemic and never got an answer. I could see from the Internet that all the transplant facilities would be open today. A doctor called me back to ask me about my age, weight, and general health. He only uses fat cell stem cells. The fat would be sucked out of my body, treated somehow, and injected into my hip and intravenously. Deb announced she had a stem cell transplant a year ago for her knees. She said it wasn't as good as she hoped it would be. Her knees are beginning to creak already. She also said fetal stem cells are better than your own. With your own, "you get what you get." The doctor warned me there are problems with fetal cells, possibly infections. I have to ask how long I can expect to benefit from my eighty-year-old stem cells transplant.

The doctor at the facility told me that he wanted a bilateral X-ray. I emailed my primary at Kaiser and asked if they could provide it. She said she would order it. I also asked her if she could recommend a facility or recommend against one. She said she knew nothing about the ones here in Hawaii. When I first started working with the Kaiser doctor, she told me the stem cell procedure isn't considered acceptable yet (I can't remember why), but her brother had the treatment for his knees and saw an improvement.

I had a tutoring session with H at 9:30, making up for the one we missed yesterday. He was set with a book. He read it to me. Sometimes his speech wasn't clear. It was hard for me to make out what he was saying. I had to ask him to repeat it, and sometimes again and again. It is part of our interaction. Today, I started repeating what he said to confirm that I heard him correctly, but it wound up, leading to other actions. I wrote what he said on the Zoom whiteboard. Then I did some phonemic analysis on the words I had written. He was mesmerized. Minutes before the end of the session, he announced he had to go to the bathroom; he would be right back. It gave me a minute to speak to his mom. Then I had to go; our time was up. I told him I said goodbye and I would see him next week. Again, he had stuck with the interaction for the full half an hour. Furthermore, it was me who had to end the session. I think this is a surprise to his mom, a delightful surprise.

When speaking to H's mom, I told her to have him listen to the audio file -again. I told him of H's response. I told her it might help him improve his speech, and it might help him calm down when he gets overexcited.

I have some thoughts about what I do right with H that keeps him engaged, moreover, keeps him from running away from his contact with me. It's not that I don't try to get him to do things my way, but I don't try to 'control him." What's the difference? I think his parents respond in alarm when he behaves in socially inappropriate ways and reprimand him. He must feel like a dog at the end of a jerked leash. I don't do that. I don't push for cooperation as his superior; I push for it as an equal. I'm not telling him the right thing to do; I'm telling him what I want him to do. On the level of our interaction, we are equals, two human beings with needs that have to be negotiated.

A nap was called for after that session. I had work to do on the presentation for The Step-Up Tutoring program and was procrastinating. Procrastination is exhausting.

When I worked with J, he said he didn't want to continue working with that complicated story about and by John Muir. He selected a story about Jason and the Golden Fleece. The story had been covered in class, but his comprehension was limited. He didn't have the background information he needed to understand it.

I often ask him to make a logical guess when he doesn't know what a word is. He usually doesn't. I asked J outright if he was afraid to guess because it would be wrong. I asked him if I ever put him down for making a bad guess or coming out with a wrong answer. He said yes. He said no. I told him he must learn to make good guesses. He doesn't have the background information or the vocabulary to 'know' the correct interpretation.

I told him that my knowing more than he did was built into our relationship. That's what it means to be the teacher. I told him if we were discussing Mexican or Guatemalan food, he would be the teacher, and I would be the student because he would know more than me. It's the way the relationship between teacher and student works.

He immediately made a change. The word 'oracle' came up in the context of someone warning Jason's uncle Pelias to beware of a man who approaches him wearing a single sandal. J guessed it was a magical object that could tell the future. Fantastic! I told him that it was a person, but his interpretation was close to perfect. It moved the story along as it was meant to be.

Immediately after the session ended, I headed out because I had a 2 pm appointment with my hairdresser. I arrived just in time and called her to tell her I was her to signal me when it was time to come in. She said oh," Betty, your appointment was a 1 pm." Oh, no. This is the second appointment I've missed. Despite the length of my hair, it looked decent. Randee is an amazing hairdresser. She gives me the best cuts. Instead of being angry, she felt sorry for me. She said she would try to get me in as soon as possible.

It was my plan to stop off at Costco on my way home. Again, the parking lot was jammed. I turned around and drove home. I needed nothing so desperately that I had to brave the Christmas mob.

I did my 4th treatment with the goosenecked infrared lamp Yvette lent me. I see a huge difference in how my legs work. They're still weak, but the range of motion is much changed.

I made up my mind that I couldn't watch any tv night until I had done some work on the PowerPoint presentation. It was enough; I allowed myself to watch some videos. I found a movie with Rachel Weisz. I love everything she does. It was a weird movie about a woman who periodically just disappears from her current life and goes off to be someone completely different. She shows up in an old boyfriend's life because she wants contact with someone who knew her when she was her first self—a strange but fascinating movie. No sex and no violence. Just thoughtful. Ah, it's called Complete Unknown.

_____-______-_____

Musings:

I have a friend who's in pain. She has injured her knees. Rest is called for, but she can't stay off her feet. It's not that she has to rush out and make a living to support her family. In her case, her anxiety won't allow her to sit still. Her anxiety-driven rushing around caused her to fall and injure her knees in the first place.

While thinking of talking to this woman about her compulsion to keep moving, despite her injuries, pain, and body's need for rest, I started thinking about what marks behaviors as 'addictive.'

I'm sure there is a worthwhile contradictory argument out there, but I think that addiction is always marked by behaviors we pursue to escape some uncomfortable physiological feeling. Addiction leads us to self-damage. People addicted to hard drugs pursue their highs at the cost of everything else in their lives. Likewise, any behavior used to escape internal discomfort with our own thoughts and feelings that lead to self-damage can be viewed as an addiction, like my playing Free Cell rather than doing work on my PowerPoint.

Now there are clearly circumstances where we pursue behaviors that cause damage to self and others that are driven by external circumstances. No parent goes, "Yay! my babies up in the middle of the night, again. Yay, I haven't a good stretch of sleep in days." This behavior, however, self-damaging is motivated by external circumstances. However, I can think of people addicted to 'helping others' who are prepared to sacrifice themselves and family members in their need to pursue that activity when the goal is to maintain a satisfying self-image. In this case, others still frequently benefit from these 'addictive' activities.

I guess we all have to examine our motives for doing what we do. How much of it is for the sole purpose of avoiding negative feelings about ourselves, and how much of it is really about others' needs? There's that narrow path again.

I must say there is a difference between the 'addict' who shoots up drugs, robs others to maintain the habit, and dies in a dirty heap in some back alley, and the 'addict' who produces,, whether the product is just cleanliness, or kindness, compulsive kindness, but kindness nonetheless.

I believe that actions taken in response to addictive needs are always somewhat tarnished. They are too preoccupied with satisfying an internal need to be fully aware of the people, causes, they serve and what would be best for them.

I would imagine, to some extent, we are all guilty of this 'addictive' behavior.

Monday, December 21, 2020

Conrey's sent me a statement for $500 to fix, try to fix, the stovetop that Sears couldn't. I called Sears and asked if I could get a list of the parts they had already replaced. Juanita, his clerk, said she needed the item numbers. I think John Conrey will be able to look at the names of the pieces and determine if they have already been replaced.

I had a session with J. He said he wanted to work on math. Sixth-grade math? Okay. I wasn't terrible at math, but I haven't done that kind of math for at least thirty years. He wanted to work on an assignment but couldn't bring it up. He chose a lesson on graphing. He sure didn't need help with that. He had to identify where coordinates were on the graph and the coordinates for points on the graph. He had an excellent procedure that involved marking the graph and /or points and drawing lines from the axes to the graph's points. I asked him if his teachers told him he was a good student. He said yes.

After we were finished, I was exhausted and went down for a long nap.

I was supposed to have H at 2:15. I texted his mom to tell her I had sent the zoom link. She texted back that she wasn't home yet. We canceled for the day.

I went out to Office Max to buy packing tape to replace the duct tape I had been using to pack up the boxes of books I had been shipping to St. Patrick's Seminary. I was going to stop off at Costco on my way home. I made it into the parking lot, turned around, and went home. The lot was packed-Christmas shopping.

Sunday, December 20, 2020

I figured out why I have a hip problem and possibly why Mike had kidney disease. My hip problem may be caused by my Morton’s toe when the first metatarsal is closer to the heel than the second metatarsal. This forces the foot to turn in. To make contact with the first metatarsal as I walk, I have to be pigeon-toed. I am trying to walk on the outer edge of my feet, the way the podiatrist told me to when I was nine. I don’t know if the good doctor told my dad why I had the problem with my feet. I do know that no one told me. I was diagnosed with flat feet. Now, I am walking on the outer edge of my feet. It engages leg muscles differently. I am asking muscles to work in ways they possibly never did before. No wonder they complain periodically.

I was hoping to work on my PowerPoint presentation for the Step-Up Tutoring program but never got it. I had a lot of catch-up to do on my updates; I wanted to take care of my Christmas ‘gifts.’

Poor Mike, he loved Christmas. He decorated inside the house, the front of the house and bought presents, presents, presents. I find the gift-giving tradition depressing. I had everything I needed. Celebrations didn’t need gifts. It saddened him that I didn’t share his excitement. Oh, well. The good news is that I’m fine facing Christmas alone without decorations or gifts, or for that matter, guests to share the time with.

Damon called me yesterday. I asked him to call back today, so I could enjoy my Saturday shows. I asked if he was planning to come to Hawaii for the occasion. He was taken aback. No, I was not serious. If I had expected him, we would have made arrangements long ago. No, he and his family were going nowhere; no one is- Covid.

We talked about Christmas. I sent checks to one and all—my concession to the holiday tradition of gift-giving. Damon listed the gifts they had bought for themselves and August. For August, they bought some computer program. He had been using the free version; this was a serious upgrade. For themselves, Damon and Cylin bought an outdoor heating unit. They had already purchased a long narrow table to invite others and keep a six-foot distance. They had one family over. It was uncomfortably chilly after the sun went down in the LA evening - therefore, the outdoor heating unit.

Damon’s good friend, Mike, made a TED Presentation. He had written a book that is doing well. I asked Damon how Mike got the TED gig. Was it something he applied for, or did they contact him first? Damon thought that those who made presentations for TED X approached TED first. He didn’t know about the people who presented on the main stage.

Damon told me that August had just woken up. It was close to three pm. Well, he’s a teenager. Damon told me that poor August just had four wisdom teeth removed. I would sleep forever too.

In my conversation with Damon, I learned that his knee was still bothering him; he has had problems on and off since college. I recommended Tendlite, an infrared light. My friend Katherine told me that she used the infrared light on an old horse of hers. He responded so well that he behaved like a young stallion. I ordered it immediately for myself and have been using it. I told Damon I would get it for him for Christmas-An actual present that makes sense. I’m in.

Judy called. She always starts every conversation with, “Are you all right?” She apologized for not getting in touch sooner. There had been a problem with Luke, her disabled grandchild, with a severe case of FoxG1, a genetic mutation disorder.

Judy got a frantic call from her daughter-in-law at church. She rushed home. Luke hasn’t been able to hold down food for several days. Since the FoxG1 kids are spastic, they need a large amount of food to maintain a healthy weight. He would greet food happily, down five tablespoons, and throw it back up.

The family sat down to discuss what to do. Taking him to the ER is pointless. They have no idea what to do with Luke when he gets there. FoxG1 is a recently identified condition. The ‘experts’ in Oahu don’t know what to do. If Luke can’t hold his food, they will insert a feeding tube. That wouldn’t be best for him, but it would be more convenient for Adam and Jazzy.

Adam finally got Luke to hold down some food by feeding him with a dropper; he could handle a little bit of food at a time. Adam is generally the one who feeds Luke. It is a job that requires a lot of patience. Luke gets excited when he smells food; he clenches his teeth. Adam has to wait until he relaxes or pry his mouth open to get the food in.

I packed up a large box of books. I am trying to use the butcher paper Judy gave me she no longer needed after her bird died. The paper is not as wide as the wrapping paper I bought at Office Max, which means I have to put extra pieces on the sides of the boxes. I’m going to try this paper with one box. If it arrives safely, I will use it. But before I can send it off, I will need to buy packing tape.

Saturday, December 19, 2020

I woke up at 4:30 after sleeping steadily through the night. This meant I didn't drink enough water during the day. I didn't even have to go when I woke up.

Some argue that nocturnal bathroom visits are a sign of sleep problems, not urinary ones. I challenge that. If plagued with urgency while still asleep, I am also plagued with dreams of searching for a bathroom. You have never seen so many and such strange toilet designs. One was a location problem: it was out in the open in my high school's foyer. But for the most part, the problem is the toilets are stopped up. This leaves me walking away and continuing my search. This continues until I wake up. What a clever mind I have!

This morning, I had a weird dream, something I have never seen before. A black circular plastic garbage can lid came flying down an alley. I couldn't figure out how this was happening. Then some birds flew away and dropped it. As I write this, I find myself wondering if it's an omen. They have announced a new strain of Covid. Now, that's what I call an omen. Who needs anything else?

I was up and out by 5:30. It was completely dark. I checked my watch to make sure I had the right time. It looked like the middle of the night. I only walked 2,000 steps before my leg started complaining. On the other hand, I slept the whole night on my left side without any signs of discomfort—two steps forward, one step back. I completed 7,000 steps walking inside the house using the walking poles to get some weight off my hip.

Dorothy couldn't talk; she was at the grocery store waiting to pick up the groceries she ordered, and she had to go to Costco to get air in her tires.

It was only Joe and me attending the driveway yoga this morning. Elise was in Paris; Scott visited friends up north, and Deb spends Saturdays with her family.

Yvette had brought up her gooseneck infrared lamp for my use the other day. This morning, she asked me if I had used it. Well, no. I thought I might use it if she helped me set it up. We set it up on the coffee table, raising it by placing it on a yoga block. I lay down immediately and spent half an hour under the light, targeting my left abdominal muscles. I have found that whatever is wrong with my leg, the discomfort is relieved when I work on those muscles. No, they don't hurt, but their tightness impacts my leg muscles. I spent another half an hour under the lamp later in the day.

I didn't do much today. I tried to catch up on my updates. I have been watching the tv series 'One Mississippi." I find it captivating. There is a raw honesty to it without being edgy.

Friday, December 18, 2020

I was up and agitated in the middle of the night. It finally dawned on me why I was targeted by my tech support company for a scam. I had been using this company for two years. They offered me deals: lifetime services for a lump sum. I am a big pay-for-everything-ahead, never be in debt. Doing that meant that our exchange was one way from then on: I would get the service, and they would not get more money out of me. Risking losing me as a client was a no-brainer. I was angry at myself for being sucked in, mainly because something about the setup sounded fishy from the beginning.

Since this debacle, I have easily discovered a local company from which I can get my tech support. I really didn’t understand what I had to do. I did ask Damon what he did; his company served his needs. It occurred to me now, Cylin must have had a private company back her up; she is a self-employed, a successful author.

One of the guys from the online tech company who was supposed to reel me in lost it. He started yelling at me. He called me spoiled. He said he could live on $700 for a year. Aside from the fact that he didn’t have a valid perspective on life in the US (a homeless person couldn’t make it on $700 a year), he was right; I was spoiled. I had the money to be reasonably casual about shelling out hundreds of dollars for tech support. I had the money, which allowed me to be lazy about checking out if this was really the best method for getting tech support. I do feel guilty. I do have so much when so many have so little.

I shared a sentence I worked on with my Hispanic sixth-grader. I don’t think I saw something like that until high school. It was a selection from John Muir’s journal. “ The Chattahoochee River was embanked with massive, bossy, dark-leaved water oaks and wreathed with _______ vines richly embroidered with ________ and colorful flowers. “ (This is from memory.)

After checking my email, I drove to town: post office, bank, and Target. I had four packages of books to mail. The boxes were of varying sizes. Two were fairly light; one was a struggle for me to carry to the car from the house. As usual, when I got there, I asked some man to help me. The fellow I flagged down was in his late 50s or early 60s. I asked him if he could carry one of the heavy ones. No worries. He loaded up with the two heavy ones and one lighter one. I took in the remaining lightweight package. It amazes me to see that kind of strength in anyone over 25. Was I ever strong enough to carry that load? I was quite athletic. I was strong, or at least I thought of myself that way.

The line was short at the post office today. The Christmas rush is over. When the clerk saw my package, she told me not to use duct tape. It curls in heat and then sticks to other packages. I still have a package of three rolls from Amazon; maybe I can still return them. I have to go out a buy more packing tape.

I did some more work in the library, looking for books. I would say we are almost ready to look for our next victim. I have sent something like 150 to the seminary in New Orleans and now something like 500-700 to the one in Menlo Park in California. I wrote John Coughlin; it was time to look for the next interested party.

Thursday, December 17, 2020

I had one of those dreams last night. This time it wasn't a scene where Mike sat down with me to tell me that he no longer loved me. No, this time, he was with another woman. I watch them be a couple together. I had never met this woman. I watched them with much sadness in my heart. I miss his love for me. His loved filled every cell of my body. He would smile at me in delight. He was so glad I was by his side. I was so happy he was by mine. I miss his love for me. I miss my love for him.

I got a text from Dorothy before I left for my walk. She could not talk until later; she had to clear her walkway and car from the six inches of snow that fell last night. She had been afraid that it would be a bad storm and she would lose electricity. That didn't happen.

I called my friend Carol in Ohio. My first Christmas card of the season always comes from her. It's a Christmas postcard with pictures of her five grandchildren. I love watching them grow up; they are beautiful children. Three of them live near her. She is still allowed to chauffeur them around despite the Covid scare. They have to sit in the back seat, they have to wear masks, and they have to tolerate a cracked window despite the freezing cold temperature.

I have only been completing 4,000 steps in my morning walk instead of the 6,000 I had been doing. My leg isn't up for more. This means I get home a little earlier. I had time to feed Elsa and do the dishes. Yoga was a struggle.

I'm experiencing the type of discomfort the doctors warned me would signal my options had run out, and I would need THR. I struggled for a while, walking with the walking poles to take the weight off my hip. Then I treated myself with the trigger point massager. Working on my abdominal muscles is what did the trick. I was as good as gold after a treatment. If the problem is lack of cartilage, leaving me bone against bone, how can massage on my abdominal muscles relieve the discomfort? I don't get it.

When I came in from yoga, I got right to work making some changes in my PowerPoint for my presentation on The Phonics Discovery System for the Step-Up Tutoring Program. I called Dorothy to say I was ready to make the presentation to her.

We must have spent an hour and a half today. We worked until we both couldn't stand it anymore. Dorothy is worth her weight in gold. She makes sure the text makes sense to her. This is what I have been asking people to do. No one did that for me, including Mike. Dorothy's gift is very unusual. I am encouraging her to market her skill, not just to earn some money but because what she has to offer is invaluable.

I was more confident today as I did the presentation. I wasn't tongue-tied. It all flowed easily. When I did the demonstration of the method, Dorothy was enthralled. She has helped me edit parts of the book and helped me extensively in editing the article. She said she never got what this process was about until she saw it demonstrated.

She realized it was enthralling. It is so engaging. Kids love it – unless they have a bad audio processing problem. Their negative reaction to the process reveals the existence of this deficit. All I have to do is s-l-o-w the process down until the student feels comfortable. I do it slowly for a sentence or two and then start accelerating. This usually fixes the problem. If not, other things need to be done.

Dorothy said, "Are you happy that your sister is such a nerd?" I am thrilled. She is not only a nerd, but she is a nerd that complements my talents and skills. I had to get off by 11 because I had a session with D. at 11:30.

D's mom canceled yesterday, something about us having to work on the phone. I thought something was wrong with the computer, or it wasn't available for him when he visited his grandmother, where he was on Wednesday. I finally understood his mother wondered if I had gotten the necessary clearance to get on Google Meet with him.

The Hawaiian schools have set it up, so there is restricted access to the students' computers. They were all given Chrome tablets with access blocked except by people with a school email address. It's to protect the students from inappropriate adults. I have called and emailed his school principal to ask her to give permission for me to get such an email. I haven't heard from her. I'd assume this is just a no, but she's done this to me before; it wasn't no; she just couldn't find the time.

When we first moved here, I volunteered at Daniel's elementary school. I heard nothing. I got in because I ran into a third-grade teacher at an afterschool program. She said I should volunteer at the school. I told her I tried and heard nothing. She said, "Just come to my room." I have gotten lots of positive feedback for my work. At one point, I confronted the principal telling her that I got into the school without a security check because I had to 'sneak' past the unresponsive administration. She told me that she had run a check on me. Here we are again. I have no idea why she doesn't respond to my messages. Whatever, Daniel and I were stuck working on the phone again.

He said he wanted to work on math again. I continued the work I did with him for the last two weeks. Writing parts of numbers and letters, having him guess what they were, and working on memorizing two multiplication facts. His memory is an ongoing problem. He says the work we're doing with the numbers and letters is helping. He can't articulate how it's helping. He is enjoying the work, and he is getting better at identifying fragments of the numbers of letters and naming them correctly, which was still a problem when we started this exercise.

After the work with Dorothy and D, I needed a nap. I set my alarm for 1:20, so I was up in time for my Friday session with J. I woke up earlier. I wanted to take a shower. I texted him, warning him I might be a little late. Then the gardener arrived. I had to tell him to clear all the refuse I had created from my weeding work in the yard off the bedroom. Also, I wanted to do some more weeding before he removed the waste. I got a little bit of work done before the rain started.

When the gardeners arrived, I saw Rodney, the head man, carrying a large plastic container with rice. When I went to speak to him, I saw all the men clustered under the silver palm in the front yard, eating out of that container. It looked as if it only had rice in it. I was concerned. These men are still working. Their situation shouldn't be worse than it was before Covid set in.

J and I are reading passages from John Muir's journals and books. OMG! The language is so dense. I don't know if I'm just viewing it through J's eyes, or I would find it that way on my own. The vocabulary is challenging, the language is rich with metaphors, and the sentences are long and complicated. Is this really sixth-grade work? I checked its reading level through the internet. It says it's beginning sixth grade. Sorry, I've read more accessible work in college, in graduate school.

I saved some time at the end of the session to do some of the phonemic awareness exercises. Today, J was willing to participate. He did a pretty good job identifying the syllables and the basic sound units of each word. I wrote the letters, sometimes asking him to tell me what to write. Next time, I'll have him write them himself.

I asked J. if he wanted to work with me over the winter break. He said he would have to ask his mother. I sure hope so. I love tutoring. I hope I'm not going to wind up with no one. That won't be good for me. Of course, I will continue working on the presentation for the Step-Up program.

I had to do some indoor walking to make sure I was above six thousand steps before I did my-before dinner walk. I did some catching up on the updates and went for my walk. Darby passed on joining me for the evening. She was in elf mode. I don't know what that means, but it sounds delightful.

________ -_______-_______

Musings:

On Hidden Brain tonight, they discussed a philosophy that helps people feel good about the lives they have: it's stoicism. Huh?? Sounds like a grin-and-bear-it approach to life. It's not quite that bad. As the speaker described it, I have incorporated elements into my life.

One of its exercises is negative imaging: imagine losing what you have. No problem. I did that every day with Mike. My dad died when I was fifteen. People whose parents die when they are children are prone to burying their loved ones every day.

Mike would tease me, saying, "Don't bury me yet!" or "She's trying to kill me off." Nothing of the sort. I was preparing myself for the possibility. I would think of my life without Mike. It made me feel every day was precious.

You know, having done that may now be protecting me from the pain of his absence. I pictured myself without him when he was there. Now I' when I imagine myself without him: Is he here or is he not? This was a common thought when he was there. I don't know the difference. Nice trick.

He said another stoic trick is to see the adversary as a challenge created for you by the Stoic gods. I never did that, but I think of a new situation as an adventure. There is a promise of something good. Nothing is exclusively bad. Well, maybe not nothing; I'm thinking of the Syrians. Even I can't think of anything good about that situation. Others are coming to mind. Hopefully, I will never have to face a situation like that. I hope no one does. I'm not optimistic.

Sometimes I think God is looking down on us and thinking as he did once before, enough of this experiment; humans aren't worth the effort. Maybe there's another Noah in our midst that will help preserve the species. However, if He follows that plan, the rest of us are goners.