Sunday, January 31, 2021

 Sunday, January 31, 2021

            I slept beautifully, with no pain. I got up a few times during the night and made it to the bathroom and back into bed without incident. I stayed in bed until after 7. Elsa and I did a short version of our walk, only covering about 1,000 steps instead of at least 4,000. 

            The day was spent catching on updates and blog entries, telephone calls, and walking.   The instructions from the folks from the stem cell place are to cut out inflammatory foods: dairy, corn, soy, gluten, and sugar. I'm good with the diary and corn. I have a little bit of rice, which I think is gluten-free. Sugar! Ah, sugar! Well, I plan to cut back on my intake of Hersey's Milk chocolate kisses with whole almonds. I remembered reading on another site to eliminate artificial sweeteners. I've been using Stevia and Truvia in my lemonade. I'm not sure how they're categorized, but I've substituted honey. I have a locally produced jar. One of the Bikram participants has hives and produces honey. He gave me a jar sometime last year.

            Elsa had me worried this morning. I tried feeding her before I worried. I am giving her half her kibble each meal, massaged with chopped meat. Once fed, she calmed down immediately. The discomfort must have been caused by hunger. I threw some untreated kibble in a bowel. So far, she has been ignoring it. Not this morning, she gobbled it up. If hungry enough, her kibble will do just fine. 

            The worst pain was in my left inner thigh muscle. That was the one Mike wrenched. The man would never have done anything to hurt me consciously, but he was a klutz. The damage he did frightened him. He often bopped me in the face as he thrashed around in his sleep. We got a larger and larger bed to protect me. However, he always moved toward me in his sleep. A larger bed did no good. It didn't happen often enough for me to be concerned. He was more worried about it than I was. Except for that pulled muscle in my leg, he never did serious damage.

            I got my infrared flashlight back from Paulette the other day. Thank God. I needed it today. I love the gooseneck infrared lamp, but it's only good for the muscles on the outside of my leg.

            The instructions from the Stem Cell Institute are to keep moving. To that end, I have set a timer to 15 minutes, so I only sit for that long before I walk through the house accruing a few hundred steps. I'm not expecting to complete my usual 10,000. I was up to 112 straight days of reaching my goal. Boo-hoo!.  

            While I called the folks from the stem cell place to tell them I was in pain, they have not contacted me today. Hmm! Another reason to question these guys. The first was they rented space fin a Floatation Tank business. It gives it the feeling of those old back-alley abortions. On a positive note, they rent the space from an acupuncturist they partner with. While I know her name and the name of the stem cell business director, I do not know the name of the guy who injected the cells into me. Hmmm!  

            He said he used to be an orthopedic surgeon but hated it. He didn't introduce himself as a doctor. Today I tried to find his name. I couldn't. I'm beginning to fear I've fallen into a QAnon rabbit hole. No name???? Okay, I suspect that he lost his medical license. I can believe he hated the work he was doing and screwed up as a result. 

            Here's a more serious issue. The stem cell folks didn't call me today to find out how I was. My vet calls the next day to check on how Elsa is doing after a procedure. I called these guys and told them I was a mess, yet no return call. Hmmm!

            Now, I do have the name of the acupuncturist their working with. I recognized it because I worked with her for a couple of sessions many years ago. She was recommended by a friend. She recommended a chiropractor. I felt better about the chiropractor's work than I did the acupuncturist. It's not that I thought she wasn't good; I just didn't feel anything. I got three free sessions with the acupuncturist as part of my package.  I have her number, I know where she works, I actually know where her child goes to school.  

            I'm putting out lots of money now because I have it. I'm not expecting it to last much longer. We're living on a slippery slope. I don't mean me personally; we are living in interesting times. We all have to be prepared to gird our loins.

            Since I saw the math workshop on Friday, I have been thinking of revising the presentation I made for the Step-Up Tutors. I am preparing one dense with information. I feel I'm trying to prepare them for all the problems they may encounter: the weird relationship between sound and letter in English. These surprises come when comparing what we think the pronunciation of a word should be to what it is. While I believe children can deal with the improvisational aspect of this work and making errors, I don't trust adults to be that way.

            I think I finally have found a way to present this method of teaching reading so adults can be comfortable using it. The problem is in the breaking apart section. I have often been blindsided when I break a word apart; some letters don't make a sound, and moreover, there are extra sounds that I didn't anticipate.

            There are two types of people as there are two types of actors: those who cling to the script and those who prefer improvisation. I suppose there is a third, one who does both. That may be the best of both worlds.  

            I think there are benefits to the improvisational approach for the student. The adults who use it model uncertainty, confusion, and failure and, most importantly, how to deal with it. Skill in dealing with those three demons separates the good learners from the poor ones, or maybe just the neurotic ones and those who find learning an absolute pleasure.

            People called throughout the day to find out how the stem cell therapy treatment went. Am I lucky, or am I lucky?

Saturday, January 30, 2021

 Saturday, January 30, 2021

            Wow! This wound up being one heavy-duty day. I had the ordination scheduled at 10:30 and the stem cell therapy injection for 1:30. 

            The day started with my usual morning walk with Elsa. My hip was in a pinchy mood. We didn't quite complete 4,000 before we headed home. I planned to complete the rest throughout the day. There was driveway yoga this morning. That always strains my muscles and then makes them feel better.

            Yvette and I were off to the ordination early because we had been warned there would be parking problems. They anticipated the church would be packed. Yvette and I parked in the library parking lot. I assumed the library was closed because I heard something to that effect on the radio. The police came around as we got out of the car and told us that we couldn't park in the library staff parking lot. As we walked back to the car, a woman walking toward us told us to park in a different section owned by the Department of Education. 

            We had no problems getting into the church. It wasn't packed when we arrived, and it never reached its full capacity. Lio told me to sit in a particular row reserved for Deacon wives. He wouldn't allow Yvette to sit with me. I wanted to sit at the end of the row near her. Another woman wanted to sit there for her own reasons, so she could get out to go to the bathroom and because she feared she would have a coughing spell. She told me to sit in another row. As I realized that row wasn't reserved for Deacon wives, I felt hurt, rejected. I'm sure she didn't mean it that way. I resolved this contretemps by sitting deeper in the row and letting her have the aisle seat. Yvette said she didn't mind. 

            Another deacon-wife came up to me and gave me a huge hug. Hopefully, I didn't catch or give Covid to her, but boy, that hug felt good. She is one good hugger.

            One of the wives of the men being ordained today came up and slipped a lei over my head. It was made of these small white flowers that smell a little like gardenias strung together. She made one for every person involved in her husband's training. Had Mike been there, he would have received one too. I received one as his wife.

            No man can become a deacon without the support of his wife. Not only did I have to attend all the training sessions, but I also had to stand up and give my permission for Mike to be ordained at the ceremony. Mike was always grateful for my support. I never considered it a big deal. It was something I thought would make him happy. While those classes we a drag, and the other participants in his class were too conservative for my taste, it never occurred to me not to support him in every way. Making him happy, seeing him happy made me happy. He felt the same way about me.  

            I expected my presence to be significant for the deacons being ordained, not for me. Guess again. I suffered from silent racking sobs through a good deal of the service. I missed Mike's joy. He was so happy with all his volunteering here. It was the most joyful time of his life. I am so sorry he had to leave. It makes me so sad. I miss his joy.

            The deacons came up to me and told me how much Mike meant to them. How they wouldn't even have completed the program if it hadn't been for him. Many people gave cards and gifts. I gave a blessing. "May you be as joyful and fulfilled as a deacon as Mike was." 

            One man came up to me and told me he considered Mike one of his best friends. I thought," Who in God's name are you?" My guess is he confused Mike's therapeutic approach to friendship. I think it was a one-sided 'friendship,' although I'm also sure Mike cared about the man.

            A priest who was the scripture teacher for the deacon formation program told me that Mike was an unusual teacher. He said the other teachers would come in with their own ideas and not compromise. He said Mike wasn't like that. This aspect of his personality affected me too. He believed in the value of taking other people's ideas into consideration, not just to be polite or political, but because he genuinely believed that his ideas could be improved when challenged. He lived that way with me too. He looked for a 'worthy opponent' and deemed me such. What a lucky girl I am.

            I ran into father Lio and was able to ask him about the gravestone for Mike. He said, "Do whatever you like, and I'll work around it." I said, "What if I make a ten-by-ten marker." He said, "Okay, I'll work around it."  

            At some other point, he had made some crack about having to move a large slab to get me into the grave. That confused things even further. When I asked him about it today, he said, "Oh, I was just kidding. We put rollers under the concrete slab and move it off the gravesite. No worries." Well, this puts everything in a whole different perspective. 

            As I said goodbye to the deacons and several other people, Yvette went to get the car. When we were together, she told me how she cried through most of the service as well. We were both glad we were wearing masks. Then I said, "Well, we're off now to a nice relaxing activity-stem cell therapy."

            I had written down the address. I knew it was near Costco. It wound up being below Costco, not above it where many doctors' offices are. I had to check my email for the Suite #. It wound up being in the Flotation company office. This had a taint of a back alley illegal abortion. The place was clean, and the guys were nice enough.

            I went to the bathroom. I went into a small room with a massage table. The room was clean enough but hardly surgical. I had been introduced to the guy who would administer the stem cells. He was only introduced by his first and last name. He told me he had been an orthopedic surgeon but hated it. Hated the hours, hated the work, felt there were better ways to treat the problems he was dealing with surgically. 

            I asked him if it would hurt. He said there would be a prick but not necessarily beyond that. He had a portable ultrasound machine with him to best determine how to go in. I asked him if he would give me a local. He said no because it damaged the stem cells. There was no pain with the shot other than that pinprick as he forced his way through the skin.

            I had both hips done. They both have arthritis. The left hip is severe, and the right is moderate. I experienced immediate pain on the right side, a feeling of pressure. It subsided fast enough. When getting off the table, I asked Yvette to help me. I wasn't in worse shape than before the treatment until I got home.

            OMG! I hadn't been in that much pain in fourteen years. I tried lying down. There was no comfortable position. I wound up shifting every two minutes. I couldn't walk. I called the folks from the Stem Cell Institute of Hawaii. I spoke to Ben, the director, first, not the one who administered the cells. He said he would call 'Steve?" Steve called me right back. He said I might feel some pain for one or two days, but it should resolve. In the meantime, take some Tylenol. His post-procedure listed all the anti-inflammatories I couldn't take. I just assume Tylenol was in the category. Those who know me know I have to be convinced to take drugs. My response to Steve was an eager, "Really?!!". 

            I called Yvette to come up. I had acetaminophen; was that Tylenol? She didn't know either, but she had a bottle clearly labeled Tylenol. She did massage. I remembered I had a heating pad. She found it and applied it while I was on the table. She also dug out several packages of Salon Pas and applied them to my left side. I fell asleep for a while on the table. Damon called while Yvette worked on me. It was a lovely three-way conversation. 

            When I got up, walking was still a challenge. Yvette prepared my dinner under my instructions. I had soup with extra veggies and lemonade. She also had to get my pills and a few Hersey Milk Chocolate kisses with almonds.  

            I prefer the kisses. I don't put a bowl of them by my side. They are in a draw in the kitchen. I take a few at a time. That means I have to get up to get more. It takes some effort. It slows down my consumption. Besides problems with overall health, the stem cell people's instructions were to cut out all sugar. Sugar interferes with stem cell growth. Sugar causes inflammation. 

            Before Yvette left, I thanked her for all she did for me today. I said I hoped that I would be as gracious when I was much older and demented and needed help.

            I hobbled to bed. Getting in was a challenge because I had to bend my left hip. I pushed through the pain. Once I was in bed, all was good. There was no pain. I slept well.    

Friday, January 29, 2021

 Friday, January 29, 2021

            I spent half an hour on the phone this morning with the tech support guy from the local elementary school. I have been working on getting on Google Meet with D. for at least a month now. The first problem was I didn't have a DOE email address. The chrome computers distributed by the DOE to all the kids were set up to block anyone who didn't have that email address. After repeated efforts, the school principals finally approved it. I was issued an email address and password.

            Next problem: signing on. When I signed in on my MAC computer, my yahoo email address overrode the DOE address. After an hour on the phone with a DOE tech, a sweet 26-year-old who thought I was funny, we got that straightened out. I had to sign in through Chrome instead of Firefox. I figured I would have no problems signing on to my tablet. Wrong! After another half an hour, Mark figured out how to get me on with the laptop. I had to sign in incognito. Yes, there is such a possibility.

            In the meantime, I had checked out Google Classroom and Google Meet. It seemed that Google Meet was the closest to Zoom, which I was now familiar with. Google classroom only allows me to see and share documents, not speak to the student.  

            On Wednesday, I tried to sign in to Google Meet. Forget it! D. and I met on Zoom as usual. I was on the; phone for half an hour today with the school tech to figure that one out. He had me sign in under my yahoo account. Huh? Now, after all I've been through, I can sign in under my yahoo account.

            Michael, the tech, told me that I needed to be on Google Classroom to see D's work. However, if I also wanted to talk to him while we looked at his work, I had to speak to him on the phone or have two computers up simultaneously, one on Google Classroom and the other on Google Meet. Now, I have two computers, but D. doesn't. The teacher must do something else. It was too much for me to pursue the issue. I gave up for the day. 

            However, Michael told me if I wanted him to give me access to the work D handed in, I needed his mother's permission. I called her and told her to contact Michael. I received an email from him later in the day.

            D and I met on Zoom, as we always have in the meantime. We've been working on co-writing. He is enjoying this way of working, and so am I. We'll see where we go from here. It won't solve his serious educational problems, but it will do something. After just one story, he is already composing stories with more structure and flow. 

            At 1 pm, I signed in to participate in an online class on teaching math. I thought I would have nothing to learn. Boy, was I wrong! The math curriculum had been turned upside down. Hawaii is still following an older way of teaching math. In the LA school district, problem-solving precedes learning algorithms. Multiplication isn't taught until 4th grade. Division in sixth grade. We were given the link for the LAUSD. I used the approach with J. I did some things right; I think their approach is amazing. The objective of the approach is concretizing math concepts before they are taught the abstract procedures. It also uses an experimental discovery approach. The children are given a problem and instructed to figure out a strategy for solving it. Now, J is learning multiplication facts. He asked to work on them because he wasn't producing them fast enough. We worked on that the other day. 

            I got J to use the left side of his brain to process the facts. He was able to 'hear' the answers on the left side of his brain. He described his experience in a way so I knew that he was doing it correctly. He felt activity on the left side of his head, and it felt weird. I assured him that feeling wouldn't go on forever. He only felt it because it was a new sensation caused by blood rushing into that part of the brain. He felt it because it was unfamiliar. He also described himself as feeling out of control. That sounds right too. When we let the unconscious mind do its job, it does feel like it's a runaway train if were not used to it.   I told him he wasn't out of control. He hadn't taken action now, even when he heard the answer. The prefrontal cortex holds the executive function. He can say no when the unconscious suggests an action he doesn't want to perform. He is not out of control. 

            As an aside: when we are flooded with emotion, our executive function gets flooded, overwhelmed. It is then we get out of control. 

            I had forgotten to call E. yesterday. Age? Covid brain? In my defense, I had heard from his grandfather that he sounded very good. I texted E this morning to ask what he wanted to do. He never texted me back. Annoying! I called. He said he didn't have time. I am sure E would rather stone-wall than just say no. It may work, but it's rude. I did get out of him that he felt somewhat better about the issues we had worked on. On Sunday, I will call him to remind him that I needed him to be straightforward with me. Saying no about something is okay; not communicating that to me is not. I appreciate how he has learned to deal with people pushing him, but I'm not pushing. I'm offering, encouraging, but not pushing.  

            As I was working on the updates, I got a call from a mainland area code. Probably a scammer, but I decided to answer. It was another parent wanting tutoring for her elementary school-age child. I have had two other calls, both of whom wanted in-person lessons. No, no, and no. Besides, both these children lived on other islands. That would be one hell of a commute. Now, I have a new client on Sunday and then on Monday. Both these kids are having trouble with reading.  

____-_____-_____

Musings:

            I have always been concerned about teachers' reactions to my work. It's very easy to understand; I can teach a child in five to fifteen minutes; actually, all learners regardless of age.  

            I demonstrated the system's taking-apart aspect to a 55-year-old man who told me he always had trouble learning to read. I did the phonemic analysis, the taking apart aspect, on his name and on the names of his children; that's all. He said, "Why didn't anyone show this to me before?" Two weeks later, I ran into him again. He told me that his reading had already improved so much that the people in his AA group commented on his improvement.  

            But people who are in the position of 'teacher' are different. This approach requires a tolerance for surprise, a moment of disorientation when something is not the way they thought it should be. That causes confusion and a sense of failure. I just had an experience like that with a student last week. English, because it does not have a transparent one-to-one correspondence between the sounds of the language and the spelling, presents challenges, unlike Italian. 

            I think being a teacher who allows themselves to experience surprise, confusion, and failure in a student's presence gives a priceless gift. Such a teacher provides the most valuable lesson: modeling how to deal with surprise, confusion, and failure with dignity and moving on. Once a student has that skill, they become lifelong learners.

     If I want teachers to use this approach with their students, I have to respect that not everyone is willing to subject themselves to those moments. It's the difference between an actor who is happy to cling to the script and an actor who prefers improvisation. Improvisation always involves risk. That's the pleasure of it for the performer and the audience.   

            I have realized that I have to tell those teachers not comfortable with the risks of improvisation to practice the phrases, clauses, or sentences they want to use before working with their students.

Thursday, January 28, 2021

 Thursday, January 28, 2021

            Ah, I slept deep and long last night. I considered sleeping in for the sheer pleasure of it. I remembered that I could nap whenever I chose later and got up. I couldn't walk long because my left hip was pinchy. Thanks to Alex Miller's video, I've made a significant change in my posture. 

            She did a 5-minute video on how to change your posture by pulling your head/neck back. This is nothing I haven't heard before, but it struck me differently. It got through to me. I had been opening my right hip joint as I walk. That sequences up through the muscles of my back. Now, I've added this head/neck movement. I'm not looking at the ground anymore. But of course, changes like that create a new challenge for my leg.

            I am scheduled for stem cell therapy this Saturday. Dorothy opted for a total hip replacement to fix her problem. She is thrilled with it. She has made some subtle comments trying to convince me to go that route. Today, she asked me why I was resistant. The real answer is it just doesn't feel right. Besides that, I did have a PT tell me that I would never be happy with an artificial hip because of my high degree of kinesthetic awareness. I don't know if that would be true. I would adapt.

            I have scheduled two hip surgeries already. Surgical candidates must attend an educational class where they are told what to expect before, during, and after the surgery. Mike and I attended. All the other candidates were grim with pain- not me. After the class, I went up to the presenter, the surgeon's nurse, and did a standing bow. She said, "Don't do the surgery." I have always suspected that the nurses protect the doctors from their own enthusiasm. If that surgery had gone wrong, always a possibility, the doctor could be sued. 

            There was a second time I scheduled one. Yvette encouraged us to get all medical procedures done before coming to Hawaii. She portrayed the medical care here as primitive. (Mike and I thought it was the best medical attention we had ever had in our lives.)  Again, the doctor enthusiastically scheduled the surgery. It didn't feel right to me. Mike and I called the company in Columbus where we would have it done and spoke to the doctor's nurse. Again, she said, "If you're not in pain, don't do it." I had some discomfort, but nothing to write home about. My biggest problem was my limited range of motion in that joint. It is clearly a limitation but not worth risking surgery. Now, let's hope nothing goes wrong with the stem cell transplant.

            At 11 am, I had a therapy appointment. Last week, I hadn't thought of anything upsetting to work on and just sat in a peaceful state, observing nothing. Very nice. Shelly commented that this was the first time I wasn't working on some trauma. I was disconcerted by the comment. Would she expect me to free trauma-free regularly? It made me think of how many previous therapists had related to me- as if I was a pathetic mess. 

            While I'm not a Scientologist, I came to the concept of achieving something 'clear' on my own. I believe we can clear up old 'traumas,' both big and small, and learn to deal with all the ones that come up. I found the Vipassana method of meditation reflected my beliefs. I asked Shelly what she was thinking. She did not believe I was dysfunctional. She understood my objective and said this is what I hired her to work on.        

            While I had trouble thinking of something to work on., I didn't feel I'd achieved 'clear.' I didn't know what was going on. Nothing came to mind. I found an area of tightness when I checked my body. My upper chest and throat had a lingering tightness. We made some moves in yoga this morning that made me aware of it. It's not an unusual tightness; it's the one I always live with. When I focused on it, what came up were the words, "Why don't you love me?" Here we are again. I'm speaking to my mom. 

            I remembered a comment an old commune-mate made when she met my mom. She said, "Now, I know why you're obsessed with your mother. She's capable of love." I had met this woman's mother. Her mother was dead inside and incapable of love. It was a remarkable comment. I looked at my mother through her eyes; my mother radiated love for me. 

            I think my mother had trouble showing it because she genuinely believed it wasn't good for us, Dorothy and me, to be loved that much. I remember becoming aware that she was looking at me, turning around, seeing her eyes shine as she turned away, avoiding my gaze. I could see the full extent of her love if I looked at this woman. My mother wasn't hiding from her gaze. She was unaware of her. She was focused on me or on Dorothy. She loved both of us. 

            I was reminded that we need to look at the sun indirectly during an eclipse to protect our eyes from damage. Whether my mother was right or wrong about fearing the damage her intense love could do to us, I can see it when I look at her 'indirectly.' Yay!

            At 2:30, I had a session with J. I worked on the phonemic transcription again. He could tolerate it at a faster pace now comfortably, even find it pleasurable. Then we did that exercise on repeating sentences. He gave me a few sentences. I repeated his words. We took turns. He read a sentence from a book, and I tried to recall it and repeat it. Then I gave him a few sentences from a book, and he repeated them. The other day I showed him how to use the sentences' rhythm to help him remember the words. This can be difficult for him. The rhythm of Spanish is different than the rhymical pattern of English. He will change words to fit the Spanish rhythm. I worked on helping him make that adjustment. I told him to listen to the rhythm of Spanish as well as English. He only hears Spanish at home. I suggested he listen to a few minutes of English on the TV and listen to the beat. I asked him if he understood people more easily when they spoke English. He said a little. I asked him then if he understood Spanish better. He said yes. Working on phonemic awareness and awareness of any language's rhythmic pattern will help someone improve their auditory processing skills in all languages.

            One of the Step Up Program administrators asked us to take on more students. They have a long waiting list. I spoke to J about cutting our hours back to two a week instead of the three we were doing. I assured him that if he ever needed help with anything, he could just text me, and as long as I was still functional, I would help him. 

            I then wrote Laura and told her I was willing to give one hour a week. She rejected my offer, saying two hours a week were better. Yes, three would probably be better than two, etc., etc. I'm thinking one hour is better than zero. If she can't find people to tutor these kids, grab what you can.      

            I got an email from an old college roommate on my update mailing list. She asked me to remove her name. She didn't offer an explanation. Now, I don't expect anyone to read my updates. I'm grateful that everyone doesn't ask to be dropped and allows me the excuse to keep writing these. I am often surprised, if not shocked, to learn that someone is reading my updates regularly. I have only had three, no four people, asked to be dropped. The first was my financial advisor. His company told him that receiving personal information from me was a conflict of interest. Okay. Then, this woman asked to be dropped because she found my preoccupations annoying and strange. I was happy to drop her. This last friend gave no explanation. Besides those three, periodically, Jean, my hanai sister, asks me to drop her name. She is slammed with work. I think she felt she had to read them if she got them. If she gets a break, her name goes back on the mailing list and then off again. Other than that, I can imagine that many people just press delete.  

            I spent the day working on updates, posting to the blog, and tackling gardening projects. I'm getting more aggressive. Darby has given me courage. She and her husband Patrick spend hours each day tending to their garden. I made some comment about her being a good gardener. She said no, just persistent. They try things; some things work, and some don't. Then they try again.  

Wednesday, January 27, 2021

 Wednesday, January 27, 2021

            I slept solidly until 3:30. Then I was up and tossed and turned for the rest of the night. I finally gave up and got up. The alarm went off simultaneously. I have no idea why I am so agitated. Maybe it would make more sense to say I have no idea why I'm not agitated all the time, given what is going on in the world today. I'm tense and nervous and ready to scream.

            I finally emailed the medical alert company yesterday. I wanted to know the procedure for returning their equipment. When I canceled my Master card because of the scammers, it was a good time to terminate my relationship automatic payment with this company.

            The reality is I didn't use the gadget. There were problems with it. It was connected to my Internet landline phone. When the grid was down, so was my medical alert. Because I was uncomfortable wearing the button as a necklace or bracelet, I fixed it to a clip with Velcro. While the button stayed in the clip, the clip would fall off as I gardened. Additionally, the signal didn't reach very far out beyond the house. I have gotten into wearing my phone constantly because it counts my steps. I’ve completed 10,000 + for 108 days now.  Every step counts. If I fall, I can reach for my phone. 

            In fact, that did happen one day. I didn't fall; I just couldn't get up after kneeling while gardening. The button would have done nothing. My phone came in handy. I called my neighbor, Ronen, who came over and hauled me to my feet. 

            I unplugged the transmission unit in anticipation of mailing the gadget back to them. Only one problem, it kept calling out, "Calling for help!!" periodically well into the night. This morning when I came to check on it, it was bleeping. Can you imagine sounds like that coming from a package in the post office? Right. I called the company to figure out how to get it to stop. There were a series of buttons to push and hold, and the machine went silent and dark. 

            I also owed them money. I had figured if I didn't pay, the service would just stop. It didn't. Or at least, that's what they said. I gave the clerk my credit card number. She told me it was rejected. What!!? That morning, I checked with the card company to see if the solar company's charge had been posted yet. It wasn't, and I had no reports of problems on my card. She reran it. Still rejected. I called the credit card company. They said there had been no attempt to put charges on my card.  

            I headed to town. I needed to do some shopping and drop off the medical alert unit at the post office. I called the company back and left a call-back number. They got through to me just as I turned into the Safeway parking lot. Great! I did not plan to yell out my credit card number in the middle of the produce aisle. I gave her my numbers twice while sitting in the car. Again, the card was rejected. I told her I thought the problem was on her end. She went to check; I got out of the car and went into Safeway to the bathroom. It had gone through, no explanation. Good enough. All's well that ends well.

            All I wanted in Safeway was Honeycrisp apples and pill pockets for Elsa. Four Honeycrisps cost me $13.50. I assume they're expensive on the mainland but look at these Hawaii prices. Thank God for Costco. Safeway didn't have pill pockets, but it did have dog training pads. I picked up twenty.

            I don't put one down often, and Elsa doesn't have accidents often. Because of the change in her diet, she had loose stools yesterday. I put a pad down in my shower pan; she goes through the shower to get outside if she wants to go to the bathroom between walks. One wall of my shower is a glass door leading to the backyard. Because she was loose, she needed to do more than she had done on our walk. Lo and behold, she had used the pad. While I know punishing a dog for an accident does nothing, I did try joyful praise upon seeing her gift.

            I stopped at the post office to drop off the medical alert package. There was one person in line ahead of me. You've got to be kidding me. I have never seen the post office that empty. Once I handed the package over, I realized it would probably be cheaper to send it by priority mail. Yeah, about five dollars cheaper. Here's where my nerves came in. I didn't have the patience to unpack the box and repack it. I couldn't stand one more minute of frustration, or I would start screaming. I was already screaming inside. 

            I decided not to go to the bank to cash my economic impact debt card. This debit card idea is the worse. It mimicked what credit card companies do to trick you in to get their card. All those cards go right into the trash. I hate to think of how many people did just that. Also, it is easier to steal a debit card sent through the mail than a check. The envelopes they came in looked cheap too. Nothing you'd expect from a government office. I think some Trump loyalist arranged for this to make Biden look bad. At least, I hope it was a Trump loyalist. I can't imagine the level of incompetence involved if someone thought this was a good idea.

            I skipped the bank. I was going to Costco; I didn't want that much cash on me. They had everything I was looking for except fresh sauerkraut. The sweet kale salad is readily available now. It isn't just popular with me; therefore, it is well stocked.

            After I got home, I took a nap before my 11:30 appointment with D.  I had not had much success with this boy. Yes, his reading is somewhat better. His verbal expression skills are slightly better, but his memory: zilch, zero. I have worked on the same four multiplication facts for a year, and he can't remember the answers when he sees the same problem a second time in the same session. I am burning out. I have never been so stymied in my professional life. He is nine years old and can't remember his address or his mother's telephone number.  

            I need to extract myself from that situation for my sake, but how do I do that to this boy? At the rate this is going, I will be working with him until he graduates high school. 

            I called the school today to get the evaluation process into place. Anyone can fill out the request for evaluation form. I had the school send one to me and D's mom. I also contacted his current teacher and teacher from last year to fill it out.

            I grabbed another lie down before my 2 pm appointment with M. We are working on inferencing. She is insensitive to the relationship between things being discussed in the same paragraph. She overthinks the information. She brings in her background knowledge in counterproductive ways. Hopefully, as we do more of these exercises, she will understand the limits of possibility set by the words in each item. 

            I texted J to say that I was available now. He tested back he was at a party. Could I do 4:30 instead of 3:30? Sure! We don't have to do a session today at all. When we did meet, we went over the math problem again. I also continued with the phonemic transcription and the exercise where he repeated a sentence. He is doing better with both the phonemic transcription and the exercise to repeat a sentence.  

Tuesday, January 26, 2021

 Tuesday, January 26, 2021

            I slept beautifully and got up when the alarm went off. It was drizzling when Elsa and I started out, but we could do our steps, or, more accurately, my steps with me dragging Elsa along. Driveway yoga was on. About 10 minutes in, it started to drizzle. We were doing yoga in the rain-lovely. Then it started coming down a bit harder. It was threatening. We decided discretion was the better part of valor and called it quits. It never poured; we could have continued.

            I had an appointment with the Department of Education tech guys at 9:30. Mark called right on the dot. He was the same young lad who helped me set up the DOE email on my Mac. I had thought it would be easy to set it up on the Surface Pro tablet. Not. 

            I opened the tablet and went through the steps to open the CNTR email in Gmail. Again, that pop-up screen asked for the password for Mike’s email account. I told Mark that Mike died without passing on his passwords, and this email account was closed by the school he worked for. Mark had the answer. He had me go to the Chrome icon, right-click, and sign in as incognito. When I signed in through this window, I got someone@k12.hi.us. I had to reenter the CNTR address, and I was good. I texted D’s mother and told her it was worth getting into Google Meet on his chrome for our Wednesday session. 

            I needed a nap. How did I ever hold a full-time job and get everything done? I am overwhelmed by all the small things I have to do. I do notice that I get energy from social contact. After that breakfast at Zola’s, I felt great.  

            When I sent the Zoom invitation to J for our 2:30 tutoring session, he texted me to ask if we could do it on Wednesday. I don’t question him because he has proven himself a diligent student. He chases me down if I’m a few minutes late.

            I texted H’s mom, saying I wanted to talk to her for 5 minutes without extra charges. Yesterday, H wrote a story with me. He got lots of basic information wrong and misused a word. I made no comments or corrections. I didn’t want to send the story to the parents before making it clear that they should not correct his errors. I was perfectly capable of doing that. I chose not to because I was concerned that he would withdraw if I did. I have to handle him carefully. His mom’s response was, “Brilliant.”

            I got a bunch of updates out. Yay! I was behind. 

            I set my timer to go off around once an hour. I make sure that I get up and walk every hour, getting in a few hour steps. I heard Daniel Liberman on Fresh Air talking about how our contemporary hunter-gathering relatives live their lives. They don’t ‘exercise.’ They move when they have to. They spend most of their time sitting, but they get up frequently to attend to a fire or a child. They have no heart disease or diabetes. Everything went wrong for our species when we developed agriculture. That was our original error. We weren’t designed for the life of property ownership and ‘advancement.’  It’s not good for us. - and it makes us not good for others. Whatever- I have been making an effort to get up to tend to something. Sometimes, it’s just walking. Today, I finally got some more of the floor washed, I did some weeding in the backyard, and I started pulling out these plants in the front yard that were unattractively overgrown. 

            In the late afternoon, I printed out several things. While I was in Mike’s office, I remembered having problems with the Amazon Fire Stick. I changed the batteries and still couldn’t get it to do its job. I called tech support. What do you know? This is not an uncommon problem—the tech led me through all the steps. I had to get an app on my phone to help me reprogram the stick. We tried everything. She finally said that it looked like it was broken. She guided me as I ordered another one. However, I’m not sure I need it. Now, I have the Amazon remote fire stick app on my phone. It works just fine and dandy.

            I did a little bit of work on the PowerPoint. I made changes to the PP and the notes, just a word here and there. Would I ever be able to say “Enough!”?

            I tried to read a little of The Cloud of Unknowing every day. Not too much. It is so hard to understand. However, when I read some to Dorothy out loud the other day, it did make more sense. You have to get a load of this language. Omg! 

            “In the name of the Father, the Son, and of the Holy Ghost! I charge thee and beseech thee, with as much power as the bond of charity is sufficient to suffer, whatsoever thou be that this book has in possession, either by property, either by keeping, by bearing as messenger, or else by borrowing, that in as much as in thee is by will or advertisement, neither thou read it ,  nor write it,  nor speak it, nor yet suffer it be read, written or spoken, of any or to any but if it be of such one, or to such one, that hath by thy supposing in a true will and by an whole intent purposed him to be a perfect follower of Christ not only inactive living in which is possible by grace for to become to in this present life of a perfect soul yet abiding in this deadly body; and thereto  doth that in him is, and that by they supposing hath done long time before, to able him to contemplate living by virtuous means of active living.” 

 I can hear you wonder, “Why bother?”  I think taking on a sentence or two is fun. This is dense language. A little at a time is all I’m up for, and maybe then not every day. It’s a verbal jigsaw puzzle that is language.

Monday, January 25, 2021

 Monday, January 25, 2021

            I went to bed before 10 and was wide awake by 2:30.   The other day Yvette sent me a TED talk on how to trick your mind into sleep. Nothing else I did worked, so I listened to it. https://www.ted.com/talks/jim_donovan_how_to_trick_your_brain_into_falling_asleep?language=en  I was able to get it to work for me. It involves beating out a rhyme using both hands alternating taps on each leg. It reminded me of EMDR. 

            Worrying about Elsa exhausted me yesterday and was still bothering me. I reached out to touch her. She didn't respond. I put my hand by her nose, feeling for her breath. Ah! All was well.

            We got up at our usual time, 5:30 am. We were all suited up for our walk, I was about to open the door, and I heard rain. Rain???!! I was on the phone with Dorothy at the time. She heard my surprise. Is that unusual? Very. This is the first time I have seen rain at this hour of the day. We have only felt a few, a very few drops one day during our driveway yoga. There is no way Elsa was going for a walk in the rain. She won't even go out if the ground is wet from earlier rain. I'm going to have to do my steps indoors.

            Elsa peed in the backyard off the bedroom just before the rain started. The house has four-foot overhangs, protecting the ground close to the house. However, she hadn't pooped. I put down a pad for her to use, but I figured she would prefer the carpet on the lanai. Sure enough. No worries. I'll get what's left cleaned up with my Rainbow vacuum cleaner. But not today because it's too damp out. I'll wait until a day when the sun hits the carpet and dries it quickly.

            I called the vet as soon as they were open. This receptionist told me that dogs often just decide they've had it with their old food; they want a change. She told me to change her food. I also told her I had on Science Diet for sensitive skin and Dr. Marty's. She told me I couldn't mix any other food with Science Diet because it was prescribed by the doctor. This is a woman I wasn't going to have a satisfying conversation with. She was a flat thinker. Rules are rules ad require no exploration or explanation.  

            If the food I was giving her wasn't bad for her, why wasn't the inclusion of an egg a good change? Why couldn't I mix other foods with the prescription? There may be reasons; I can think of two, but I doubted reasons beyond, "the doctor has spoken," was relevant for her. She did reassure me about Elsa. If she rejected her food, that wasn't a problem; if she wasn't eating at all, that would be another matter. I texted family and friends to tell them there was probably no reason to be concerned about Elsa. 

            I did some walking while in the house and spoke to Dorothy. I had to get off and lie down. I was still exhausted. I think my worries about Elsa weighed heavily on me. I set the alarm for 10 am. I had to get cleaned up and dressed for my luncheon date at Zola's with Judy and Paulette. Mindy was supposed to join us but had to quarantine because she received her first vaccine.

            Judy had called me earlier in the day to say that she had a doctor's appointment and might be late. I was to assure Zola that she would be there as soon as possible. When I pulled up to Zola's house, there was Judy's car. When I got inside, I announced, "Zola, I'm supposed to tell you that Judy and Paulette might be late." Judy said that the appointment went quickly, and they got there early.

            We all ate around a table. There weren't quite 6 feet between each of us, but we were outdoors with tropical breezes blowing. Zola made breakfast burritos; Judy made the sweets, lilikoi squares, and another type, which was good, but there's no competing with lilikoi anything.

 We sat around yakking. Some of it was gossip, but nothing bad. I would be comfortable with someone talking about me that way behind my back. We laughed at the foibles of others. Ours are funny too. The human condition. It was good to be in physical contact with others.

            I had plans to stop at Costco on my way home. I was out of eggs. Zola gave me three, so I had them for Elsa. I napped before my 2:15 appointment with H. I managed to get a few minutes in with his mom before starting our session. I asked her if she got my message about how he tried to manipulate me in our last session. She said, "He's really bright." What?? Does she know nothing about autism? She had no idea what "theory of mind' was about.  

            I asked her if they were seeing any improvement in H. She said her husband thought he was speaking better and conversing more with the neighbors. She said he's very social. Huh? If he's autistic, that's not what comes naturally. Maybe he's got some other problem. Autism doesn't seem to be an accurate diagnosis.

            H wandered for most of the session, playing with blocks on a table in front of him, saying we would play Tetris. I was waiting for something to happen I could latch on to. Then he dictated a story. There are many problems, but I tried to keep it exactly the way he wanted it. I tried to change one word, which was 'incorrect.' He caught me and told me to change it back.  

            I sent his mom a link to a short statement on the 'theory of mind' and its relationship to autism. I also called her and asked her to call me back. She hasn't yet. I don't want to send them H's story until I've spoken to her. I want to make sure they don't 'correct' him. I feel I have to be careful with him. If I come on too strong, he'll shut down. There is always time to make corrections. I want to ensure his parents don't ride his early efforts by waterboarding him with their 'superior' knowledge. Boy, would I ever be furious if they did! He's opening up. He's trying dangerous things; he's taking risks. That has to be handled very carefully.

            I had J at 3:30. While I had a few minutes, I called T-Mobile. I had trouble using the Internet on my phone outside the house. Texts don't even send. I mentioned the problem to one of my walking buddies. Valerie always listens to something on her phone when she does her evening walk. I asked her about it, telling her I couldn't stay connected on my phone outside the house for anything except phone calls. She said, "That's not right." I had the cellular function shut off. Now, I didn't do that. Is there a gremlin in these phones?

            There was a lot of background noise when I connected to J. I told him to ask someone to turn down the music. His neighbor was having a party. I guess not. I worked with him on that math problem again. It was a complex one. But the first thing I did was cover why he couldn't add meat and cheese together- because he wasn't adding meat and cheese, he was adding ounces. I had created another problem. Five chocolate kisses with almonds and 6 chocolate kisses with mint. What did those two items have in common? He said chocolate. That was accurate, but it didn't work for math purposes. Some of it may be the confusion between English and Spanish. The two languages order their adjectives and nouns differently. I told him about superordinate categories versus subordinate ones. This is a difficult concept. I went over the problem I created several times. In the middle of demonstrating it, I saw another way of doing it. That made a total of three somewhat different ways of solving the problem. I actually tried one, and it didn't work. Then I realized I had labeled something wrong, which misled me. This was a good demonstration of how important it was to label answers. I don't know how much was over his head. I'll keep working on this problem until it becomes clear.

            I can hear some people saying, why bother? He already handed in the work. There are so many concepts and math skills built into this one problem. If he can see the problem and the various ways to solve it clearly, he will have a good foundation for learning other thinking skills.

            He had had enough of that. I'd have another problem in the same vein next time. We switched to having him learn to recall the multiplication facts quickly. He has no idea if he is using his brain's left or right side. I always tell people,"  'I don't know' is a perfectly good answer." I will keep asking the question. At some point, it will make sense to you." I did a little bit of work focusing on the left brain versus the right. 

            Then I switched to listening. I brought up the audio file from Bandcamp. I was able to play three tracks from the Quiet Queen. I stopped it now and then and asked him if he found it pleasant or annoying. I told him I wasn't asking him because I wanted to know how he felt about the tape. I wanted to know because the information gave me information about his auditory processing skills. He was okay with one track. Then it became annoying. I stopped playing the audio file and did the word breakdown on my own slowed down. He said that was better. This confirms my suspicion that he has a history of auditory processing problems. People with auditory processing problems are uncomfortable with the phonemic breakdown at normal speed. They find the slowed-down one much more comfortable, if not actually enjoyable. After modeling it slowed-down, the students rapidly become comfortable with the normal speed breakdown.

            I asked if he had a tough time in school. He said he did in Kindergarten. He had trouble learning English. Well, I'm sure everyone did. However, his Spanish wasn't as good as the other kids. Yeah, we have to do more work on this.

            I did some walking in the house. I was going to have trouble getting my 10,000 steps in.

            I found a credit card in the mail claiming to be an Economic Impact Payment Card. I checked on the Internet. It says it's for real. Boy, is this poorly done?! I can imagine it was done by a Trumpite wanting to make Biden look bad. These are debit cards. If they are thrown out, they're gone. Lousy job! Why aren't there public announcements being made?

            Elsa ate the pill pocket tonight with her medication. She also loved the Science Diet soaked and scrambled in an egg.

Sunday, January 24, 2021

 Sunday, January 24, 2021

            I mentioned to one of my fellow walkers with two dogs what I was experiencing with Elsa. She said, sometimes their stomachs go bad. She just had that problem with her miniature Schnauzer, Max. She fed him an egg and some rice. I figured she meant a raw egg. She said no because the dogs are just as vulnerable to salmonella as we are. No, I was to scramble the egg. 

            When I got home, I made her a scrambled egg. When I make eggs for myself, I prefer fried. I actually forgot that I should stir it before I throw it into the frying pan. But this worked out fine. The egg wasn't mixed with anything else. The spices we eat are bad for dogs. I didn't even use butter because of the salt content; I used a little olive oil. I had to leave the egg sitting for a while before it was cool. Judy called then. I told her what I was doing. Because I left the egg sitting in the frying pan, it took forever to cool. Judy yelled, take it out of the frying pan and put it in something else so it will cool faster. Okay, okay.  

            I hand-fed Elsa bits of scrambled egg. She did just fine with this. I pick up a few bits of kibble with each piece of egg. She took down the kibble with the egg without complaint. Since she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, I scrambled up another egg. This time I stirred her kibble into the egg. Success! At least she's eating, but this doesn't explain her very sudden change in attitude toward her regular food.

            When Mike and I got Elsa, we were told she was a grazer. We would put the food out. She'd eat a little bit here and there throughout the day. When she developed skin allergies, the vet put her on the Science diet. She responded the same way to that food. Then, I added Dr. Marty's dog food. I gave a quarter of a cup of Science diet and a quarter a cup of Dr. Marty's, let the mix sit in some warm water until it penetrated the kibble, making a gravy. Elsa was no longer a grazer; she became a gulper. That's what makes this change so alarming. She's done a 180⁰. I'm thinking brain tumor. 

            At 10 am, I had a healing appointment. I needed a nap after that. Then I called Laura from the Step-Up Program to discuss my power Point on the reading method I developed. While the PP isn't finished, I went through what I had. I was amazed at her response. She thought it was fascinating. His only criticism is that it was very dense. She was going to share it with a friend who did graphics. 

            Shortly after I got off the phone with her, I had an appointment with J. We worked on the math concepts from one of the word problems he worked on last Tuesday. He canceled on me last Thursday, and we had a make-up session for today. I asked him if he was afraid of making mistakes. That fear can slow us down; it's somewhat like driving with one foot on the gas pedal and the other foot on the brake.  

            At 3 pm I had a Zoom party to attend. It was Jean, my hanai sister's birthday the other day. Family members gathered to celebrate, more like just spending some time together. Even in no-Covid times, the only way I could see them regularly would be on Zoom. We are scattered over the lower forty-eight and Hawaii. Zoom for these relationships is a blessing. We played an online trivia game. We don't do well. But the point of the game is being together. We are all so much ourselves; it's a hoot.

            I was exhausted after that. I slept for an hour and a half. Then I did my before-dinner walk with Elsa. She was fine on the walk. While this morning, she hadn't barked at a dog she usually makes a fuss about, she did detect a woman walking with her two dogs at a distance. Since I couldn't see them, she must have smelled them, which means she was not having a problem with her sense of smell. That would mean I don't have to worry about a brain tumor, my first thought. Losing her would hit me hard. 

            At the end of the evening, the phone rang – an unknown caller. I answered. Why not? It was a woman interested in tutoring for her seven-year-old daughter who was not catching on to reading. The mom was a college-level French teacher from Algeria. She said she had no trouble learning to read, and this was causing problems between her and her daughter. I told her she didn't know how to teach reading. She laughed and recognized the simple truth of what I said. 

            Julia from the Step-Up program emailed me, saying she liked my idea of creating a video library for tutors to refer to on teaching methods. She said she thought Step-Up had a business account with unlimited Zoom videos. This is as close to ideal for me as it can get.  

_____-_____-______

Musings:

            In the Very Short Introduction to Democracy, the author brings up Machiavelli. I associate him with power-grabbing. Guess what? Not so fast. He actually wrote more about giving power or acknowledging the power of the masses. If you want them to fight for your causes and pay taxes, you're going to have to consider their concerns.

            Machiavelli wrote on the need for leaders to take absolute power in times of crisis. Well, yeah! Whenever a group is under threat, the group must start functioning as a single unit with a single objective. That usually requires a single leader.

            That was the problem with Trump's managing of the Covid virus crisis. He saw the primary threat to the country a failing economy. He didn't see the virus as a threat in itself. He dismissed the possible impact of the virus. Worse yet, he lied about the virus. He lied about its seriousness. "He could have said, this is very serious; we all have to work together to keep the economy going for the sake of our children. Many of you will die. I grieve for my country; I grieve for your families; I grieve for each and every one of you. Everyone take every precautions and and stay on your job. Maintain normal life while you can." I think what he did was wrong, even for the economy. I thought so at the time. I think people would have withdrawn from public life as they watched their families becoming sick and dying. They would have stayed home. If no one had gone to work, the economy would have suffered anyway. 

            Under Trump's guidance, we had people taking no precautions, insisting that the virus was harmless or nonexistent. I read an article in the NY Times about folks in North Dakota. They were so convinced that Covid didn't exist, as told to them by their fearless leader, that they screamed from their hospital beds that they didn't have it. They were only silenced when they were intubated. How sad it is that.

            I can't blame all this on Trump. Groups complain about government-enforced restrictions and rules about wearing masks worldwide, including countries where leaders have taken 'appropriate' action. This push for individual liberty -without regard to the overall impact- is a worldwide problem.   

            When I was a freshman in college, I was assigned to interview teenagers to determine their definition of freedom. My sister and her friends were freshmen in high school. Her friends defined freedom as a license to do whatever they wanted. Dorothy defined it as responsibility. That's how we were raised in our irreligious home. We were raised with an understanding that we had a responsibility to others and freedom was the liberty to decide how we dispatched that responsibility, not to score as much as we could for ourselves.

            When I was in my first year of teaching, I shared a house with a few women. One was a cradle Catholic. She said, "Betty, I was always raised with the understanding that people can't be moral unless they belong to a religion. You are the most moral person I have ever met." Sadly, nothing guarantees morality- in the sense of feeling some obligation to others- all others.  

            Now that obligation doesn't mean you have to give others whatever they want. It means you have to find the narrow way between your needs and the needs of others. Anyone I've met who thinks this is something easy to achieve believes the solution is what they have in mind. That's a great start for getting along with others. These folks believe the answer is obvious; after all, they know it. Does anyone see a problem with this way of thinking? Well, I sure do.

Saturday, January 23, 2021

 Saturday, January 23, 2021

            I was in active discomfort last night. I suspect it because my body took a pounding yesterday. The mammogram was one of the most uncomfortable I have ever had, and I have had many. The tech couldn’t get my right breast in the proper position. She tried over and over again. I had to ask for a break. Then the ultrasound required her to push the probe deep into my belly as well as run it lightly over the surface.  

      I was up a good part of the night and slept in. I got up at 6:45. I had no time to walk. I fed Elsa.

            Elsa rejected the food. This is the third meal she refused. Yvette took her down to her quarters yesterday and put out three handfuls of her food. Elsa gobbled that up. Mind you, Yvette’s dogs eat the same Science Diet that is part of Elsa’s food. 

     When she rejected her food again last night, I called the vet right after yoga this morning. Donna told me to keep an eye on her till Monday. She said the crucial thing to watch in the meantime was her water consumption. She would be fine as long as she was drinking water. Donna concluded with, “I hope not to hear from you.” To which I responded, “I hope never to see you again, too.” Donna laughed. 

            My 10 am healing client canceled. I was supposed to meet with J at 11:30. I texted him to say I could do it earlier. He asked me if I could do it later, at 12:30. I got a text from Dorothy saying she was up for working on the PowerPoint. We worked for well over an hour. In the end, she told me to send her the PP and the script I had written. I spent hours today organizing the documents. I also added some more slides. I am trying to compress a 300-page book into a half-hour video. Good luck!

            I worked on the math with J. He said he wanted to start working on remembering his math facts. When I asked him a multiplication fact, he always knew the answer. The problem was the speed with which he retrieved it.

            Elsa refused her dinner again tonight. I didn’t soak it in water as Dr. Marty’s recommends. That way, I can leave the food out for her to eat whenever. I texted Yvette that she wasn’t eating again. Since she ate three handfuls of food when she was down at Yvette’s, we thought maybe she would eat some of that food. Mind you, the food Yvette feeds her dogs is the same as the food I feed Elsa, just the individual kibble bits are smaller. Yvette brought up some of her food. No. Yvette picked up Elsa and took her down to her place. Maybe being around the other dogs helped. No. This was getting scary. She would walk up to a bit of kibble lying on the kitchen floor, sniff it, even sometimes take it in her mouth and then drop it. 

            I just worked on the PowerPoint tonight. I never turned on the tv. I’m not finding much that is satisfying. On the other hand, I have tripped upon some movies that I found compelling. The movie Patterson with Adam Driver is one of them. A remarkable film, so low key, so understated, so tender. 

______-_____-_____

            Our country is a victim of its own success. Since the end of WWII, the goal has been to get everyone into and through college. More and more people have followed that path. But they are those who were left behind to be the ‘working-class.’ 

            The working class was seen as something to escape; we wanted better for our children. Now, here we are, and those who didn’t make the leap feel unseen, unvalued, and are raising quite a ruckus. Surprise!!!

            It would be good if a college grad could value a sanitation worker. That way, all sanitation workers would be appreciated for the important job they do. We would all be dead ducks if there were none.  

            In the middle of the pandemic, many of those scorned workers are now recognized as being essential. They have always been essential.