Mike's death; Betty's life...: 12/23/25

Tuesday, December 23, 2025

Sunday, February 28, 2021

I woke up in the middle of the night and was wide awake. Then I heard voices coming from the living room. This is the second time this has happened. The movie I had been watching before I went to bed started playing. I had hit the pause button and closed the computer before I went to bed. Go figure.

I was so wide awake, sleep was not a consideration; I finished the Very Short Introduction to Judaism. It read that you're not allowed to remove breathing tubes once they have been put in place if you're Jewish. I decided to do that for Mike two years ago and allow him to die. What would I have happened if I hadn't been allowed to do that? I figured he would have had surgery. We had been told that his chance of surviving was nil. It would have been a way of killing him.

It made me wonder what the surgeon would have done if we had gone that route. They knew he was filled with pus; it came out of every tube. They also knew that he had only gotten worse. Why would they have wasted valuable time and energy trying to keep him alive? What do doctors do in a situation like that? Accidently sever an artery?

I had a remarkably productive day despite feeling like I had to drag myself out of bed. I felt an unexplained heaviness. I assumed it's grief. This grief crap is tricky. I had a full life; I was busy and had lots of people who enjoy me, but . . . . I remember I felt sadder early life. I struggled against sorrow every day when I was young. I think I'm doing less of that now. My life with Mike was fulfilling. I was not going to my grave thinking, I never. . . . I did everything important to me. I loved and was loved in a way that was meaningful to me. It still sustains me. Grief is the weirdest thing.

I remember when my mom told me that my dad was dead when I was fifteen. I thought, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm still breathing." I have similar feelings now. Being 'with' someone defines you. It's not just conceptual; your biomass is changed to match theirs; you 'become' in response to their being. It's an interaction. Every human contact is an interaction, and we modify our behavior and ourselves accordingly. If we're lucky, these modifications are good for them and us. With a life partner, the sheer quantity of interaction is defining. Yet here I am without Mike, being something I might have been with Mike still around. I never felt I couldn't become all I was capable of with him. He saw me as someone who had something to contribute and knew that I might have to take my act on the road. It was me who didn't want to do that.

Even before Covid, I had fantasies of doing online presentations. Covid has created opportunities for me. The fact that I can't travel makes it all even better. I can't think of anything more depressing than going to a convention, having to stay in a hotel in some miscellaneous location without a dear loved one by my side. I do love the familiar.

Today I redid the notes for the PowerPoint presentation. It seems I will have to print them out rather than being able to go back and forth on the computer between two screens. I got up to date on the blog posts and then the updates.

My friend Carol from Ohio texted me to say that her computer's audio was fixed as she was up for seeing my presentation tomorrow afternoon EST. That will be 9 or 10 am my time. Perfect.

Tommy told me yesterday he was ready to mount the slides onto audio files posted on YouTube. I had been thinking of posting each of the five stories separately, but should I post all five on one video so it can play continuously for 45 minutes? I decided to go with the latter. Tommy said I could have both. I noticed I told people to email me for copies of the transcript on the last slide. That would work if 5 people out of the close to 8 billion people on earth contacted me. If it was much more than that, I would be overwhelmed. I called Tommy and asked about having a site people could go to get the transcript. He said he would look into it. Do I want a blog site or a website? I don't really know that difference. Tommy was the only one who even thought he could help me or was willing to try, even for money.

Elsa and I took several walks together today, so she didn't bother Yvette and Josh every time I walked up and down the block collecting steps to get my 10,000 before bedtime.

Yvette came up with an orchid in hand, asking if she could plant it out front. I learned to stick all gift plants in the soil from Zola. I loved how she did that. Yvette also asked me if I wanted to go to a comedy show of one of our yoga buddy's boyfriend. What a nice break! It will be on the evening of the 3rd.

The 3rd will be the 2nd anniversary of Mike's death. The five weeks leading up to that moment will be over. I hope I will feel better. Yvette proposed we spend the day out at the beach watching the sunset. I had plans of lighting a yahrzeit candle. Dorothy explained it had to be lit as the sunset on the 'day' of his death. Because he died after sunset on the 3rd, that day starts at sunset of the 3rd and goes through sunset of the 4th. t\hat will be the 'day' of his death. I already got the candle out. Since we will be at the beach at the moment of sunset and it might be breezy if not windy, I have already found a large jar to put the candle in, so it won't be blown out. I have one of those igniting guns ready too.

I made another chicken pot pie, Marie Calendar's, for dinner. And I finally made tuna fish salad for myself. Judy gave me a few stalks of celery months ago. They were still good enough.

All this wonderful activity still doesn't make me feel better.

Saturday, February 27, 2021

Yoga goes so much faster these days. I am always surprised when Yvette announces it's time to get ready for the final savasana. I find the classes soothing.

I got up late this morning and didn't get many steps in before yoga. This was going to take effort. I posted an entry on the blog for February 27, 2020. The blog is always exactly one year behind. Then I went for another brief walk. I try to get one in every hour or so. That way, I keep moving throughout the day and never sit too long.

I was supposed to have S this morning at 9:30. I planned to call her mom to ask if we could do it later because I wanted to be at Costco when it opened at 10 am. There had been no vinegar when I had been there the other day. The shipments come in on Tuesday and Friday afternoon. This means the best chance you have of getting something is Wednesday and Saturday. I wanted to get white vinegar for the weeding. I got a text from mom, saying S had a friend's birthday party today and wanted to cancel. Good! I hopped in the car to be at Costco by 10 am.

When I arrived, there were still plenty of parking spots. When I got to the entrance, the flats were stacked in anticipation of a large number of people, with the line snaking back on itself. While it was just 10 am, people were leaving already with full carts. I've been here early before. Costco officially opens at 10, but in fact, it will open whenever it's ready, any time after 9:30.

I headed straight for the vinegar aisle. No white vinegar. Damn! I went over to the produce aisle and picked up a sweet kale salad package and another bag of lemons. When I checked out, I asked about the vinegar. It was difficult to believe that all the vinegar that came in last night was already gone. No. It hadn't been included in the last shipment. They were expecting one on Monday or Tuesday.

When I checked my email this morning, there was a note from Mary A., Dorothy's friend, who volunteered to see the PowerPoint Presentation. Mary had been a first-grade teacher. She told me the presentation had been a fun experience. This morning I got this incredible note from her, evaluating the method.

Hi Betty, I wanted to get back to you about the delightful time we shared yesterday. The thing that impressed me, first and foremost, was that your method recognizes the uniqueness of the individual. It seems to be based on the principle that the learner is respected for what they think and know. For instance, when you reply with "If that's the way you say it, it's right," the student feels that he's recognized for what he knows, not for what he doesn't know. I also like that the program is low-budget and game-like. I can see kids analyzing the word they provide and thinking that they are playing a game. Counting syllables is easily accomplished with your "Mom Yell." You probably have already thought of this, but my only suggestion would be that you create a Teacher's Manual with all of your lovely ideas in it.

I spent most of the day working on the blog and napping. I had a scheduled session with A. I sent the link in a timely way; there was no response. I called mom, "Oh, you're on? I'll get A ready." I'll send her a warning next time. While I am not too troubled by lack of punctuality, it's disrespectful.

I asked her mom if she had been playing the audio file. She said she had but not regularly. I impressed upon her the need to do that. I can't promise it will help, but I have had some surprising successes. It's certainly worth trying, and it's free. Being free may go against it; how can something free be any good? I have to push my parents.

While I had prepared the Carpenter stories for A, he chose to write another story. Today he wrote a more coherent story. I am sticking to transcribing precisely what he says instead of helping him expand his verbal skills except for a word here and there. He read this story to me with relative ease. I modeled decoding procedures with some words he was stuck on. He is paying attention to the spelling and the sounds they represent. This is a vast improvement. I also had several opportunities to get him to infer the meaning of words using his 'close' pronunciation of the word read in the sentence. He is doing somewhat better with that too. There were a few moments when he got lost. He started grabbing for anything. I have to tell him to stop and follow my directions. He is still having problems distinguishing b from d.

I taught him this trick of making a vertical line on his body from his left collar bone to his armpit. If the vertical line comes first, it is a b. He can't remember that. It takes a lot of repetition for him to remember something, but he does remember it eventually.

After I was through with A, I finally bathed Elsa. I have been putting it off forever. While bathing her, I remembered why we both hated the process. I have to wash her with a medicinal soap because of her skin condition. The soap has to stay on for at least 10 minutes. She sits in the sink lathered and hates every minute of it. I keep massaging her and talking to her, wishing it was over already. Besides that, today was the first day I was comfortable without a sweatshirt. Subjecting poor Elsa to that treatment when I thought it was too cold to go without a sweatshirt is more than I could bear.

Friday, February 26, 2021

I woke up around 4:30 in an agitated state. I couldn't figure out if I was scared or angry. I couldn't figure out what was triggering this mental state. Whatever else is going on, I am reasonably convinced that the second anniversary of Mike's impending death date was having an impact. The crisis started on January 24, and he died on March 3. I suppose I will be off my pins during this period for several years before being without him becomes the new normal at a deeper level.

I am doing very well without him. I have a life. I am promoting my teaching methods, tutoring, following several exercise regimes, and having regular contact with friends and family. Things could not be better- for my circumstances. What is the hardest is that I'm alone. I don't mean that I'm just without Mike; I mean I am no longer a ''we,'' am I only an ''I.' ' Mike was always part of my world, even when he wasn't present. I had to account for him, and he had to account for me, and I knew he took me into account as much as I did him. Ah!

I had an appointment with Dorothy's friend, Mary, in New Jersey. She's a retired first-grade teacher who Dorothy asked if she would be willing to hear my presentation. She was a great audience. Her perspective was different from Dorothy's. She asked great questions.

I needed a nap after that. I need a lot of naps these days. I needed a lot of naps right after Mike died too. More confirmation that I'm going to another period of heavy grief.

My biggest concern is my impatience with my students. One of my great strengths as a teacher has been my patience. I could just observe a student and find whatever they were doing interesting, knowing that I would see where the opening for change was if I watched long enough. I find I get annoyed, angry because they don't do what I tell them to do and/or get angry because they can't do what I ask them to do.

I had an appointment with D. at 11;30. The conference I had with the special ed team to determine if D. should be evaluated for special ed was a turning point for me. I had started a little before then when I started working on word problems. The meeting pushed me more in a new direction. I had been perseverating on working on his memory problems instead of working around them. Mrs. B., his third-grade teacher, had asked me to continue working with him, hoping I could resolve his memory issue.

I started working with the Barnell Loft Drawing Conclusions paragraphs I prepared for M. Whoa! He had no skills for figuring out the meaning of the paragraph. It was about the change in chicken weight gain between ''now'' and ''many years ago. The exercise asked the student to select an appropriate response to describe the paragraph's main point. Something about feathers was one of the choices; that's the one D. picked. I asked him why. He noticed then that feathers had never been mentioned. And that snafu was just the start. He had no capacity for organizing the material in his mind, so it made sense. He is now in fourth grade; the material I was using was on a high 2nd-grade level. We have our work cut out for us.

I went for a walk down the block and back. I have been going for short walks periodically during the day. I do it to make sure that I'm not sitting endlessly, and I complete my10,000 steps a day.

When I got back from the walk, I took another nap. When I got up, I got to catch up on the updates and posting on the blog.

Thursday, February 25, 2021

While spring was almost here, it was still pitch black as I headed out for my morning walk at 5:45 am. I have learned that it becomes light earlier at the end of the day, much more than it becomes light early in the morning. I remember Darby made a comment about that right after the winter solstice. I thought it must be a peculiarity of Hawaii, but no, Dorothy knew about it. Before this, I always thought the changes would occur equally in the morning and at night. Guess not. I couldn't imagine why it works out that way, but I am equally sure there is an explanation.

I had an appointment with Shelly this morning. My body has been pounding with anxiety. I worked on what I thought triggered my fear but finally realized that my fear of fear dominated. When I dealt with my feelings, I calmed down.

After the session, I napped until 11, when I had to get ready for my session with D. He didn't know that his mother and I had had a conference with the school. I told him his teacher said he frequently didn't hand in his assignments. D. sounded surprised. He had a math assignment. I pushed him to do it with me. His fear was palpable. This is a wonderful turn of events. It suggests he's normal. While he frequently sounded confused and unable to recall a word or a procedure, it was also clear that he knew how to do multi-digit subtraction with regrouping.

I went down for another nap. Jean called just as I lay down. She wanted to tell me how tired she was. She had just presented a significant piece of writing she had done. She told me how at three in the morning, she had realized that she hadn't created a smooth transition from one point to the next. Oh, yes. I am well familiar with that feeling. How many times have I revised my article, the chapters in my book? Oh, boy. It makes sense as you write it, and then you set it aside and reread it and find that reading feels like bumper cars for the mind as you get jerked from one point to the next.

Judy had called. She had her stitches out but was still experiencing quite a bit of pain. The question was should she push through when she felt it or stop because she might cause damage. She knew to err on the side of caution until she got feedback from the surgeon. She was going to have a video conference with him on Monday.

She had to eat lunch, and I needed another nap. We made arrangements for me to show her the PowerPoint presentation at 2 pm. Sears arrived in the middle. Two men worked while I napped. At 2, I did the Zoom presentation with Judy, but we did the auditory aspect over the phone. I have no idea how that happened. After an hour, we lost the zoom connection. That shouldn't have happened because I have a paid account. This presentation lasted about an hour. She said the presentation sounded good.

I had a session with E after that. He asked if we could just have a short session because he had too much work. I set the stopwatch for 15 minutes. I wondered if he had lost weight. It's been two weeks since our last session when he moved back into his body. He had reported feeling heavier. I hoped that feeling more solid and grounded would allow him to drop unnecessary weight. But he said there was no difference. Oh, well. At least he was more aware of his surroundings.

When I asked what was annoying him, he said he had a headache. No, he did not get frequent headaches. I got that his being in his body and being more aware of his surroundings created its own form of stress- too much information. E. plays a lot of video games. I asked how he felt when he started a new one. There had to be a certain level of confusion and uncertainty. Yes. But that's different.

Video games are contained; the possibilities are not infinite, as they are in life. You can get to know a game completely or pretty close to that. In life, getting to know, no less being in command of, everything is impossible. I mentioned how the cruelty of man to man weighed on me. I would love to have solved that problem, having set that as my goal as a child.

Given that as a goal, I had to look back on my life and deem myself a failure. But I'm in good company; Jesus and Buddha failed too. No one has been able to solve man's conflict with his fellow man, if not everything else in his environment.

I gave very good advice that I should listen to myself. We each have to accept our personal limits and the limits imposed on us by the world around us. Successfully bringing peace on earth and goodwill to man seems to be out of everyone's range. Too bad.

After talking about setting limits on what we were supposed to understand and change, E. said he felt more relaxed. I'm delighted I could bring this to him. Now, to achieve it myself.

I thought I had a session with A at 4 and set everything up. I made sure the first five Carpenter stories were open and available for screen share and one blank document for writing a story. He decided he wanted to write a story. It was an awkward one, very disappointing after that great story he wrote last week. Then we pushed through to read it. Oh, bad idea. It was much too hard for him, and I was frustrated and angry. I may not be able to work with these kids anymore. I seemed to have lost my patience. Patience is a must. To lose my temper with them is a form of abuse. It could be hard. I don't know how many times I have told him to use cross-body blending. Yet, each time he got jammed up, I had to push him to use it. It was not that he's unwilling or uncooperative; he really doesn't remember. He resorted to some default program that didn't work but was familiar. It drives me nuts.

Today he had to blend p+ar. He pronounced each segment, then he blended it as rap. I asked him what I had told him to do when he blended. He literally had no idea what I was talking about. I went back to wondering how much of his problem was cognitive, intellectual impairment and how much was just auditory processing damage that left him grasping at straws like a drowning man.

Julia, the tech from Step-Up Tutoring, had emailed me to see if she could get information about the presentation and my background to advertise it. I asked her to call me. She was good with it; we talked for about an hour. I blew my horn about all the different teaching strategies I had developed. I had indeed put off presenting my ideas forever. It was a little late in the game. Who was going to listen to an 80-year-old woman slipping into her dotage? We'd see. I asked her to make sure that the video that came out of the Zoom presentation got in the hands of one of the LA school district administrators. He participated in the first math workshop presented to the Step-Up Tutors presented by a LA school district staff member. I thought that administrator had been responsive to my perspective when I commented. He recognized an accomplished, experienced teacher. I didn't know if teachers would be responsive to this method. I assumed most of the Step-Up Program tutors who had no teaching experience would be more receptive. I anticipated that teachers would be biased against the approach because it was too open-ended.

I told Julia my background and sent her a copy of the slide show. She would have to create breakout sessions at two points in the presentation. I would like to do a dry run on the technical aspects. I will use the Step-Up Zoom account, not my own. That way, Julia will have control of the Zoom session. She will record it and make it part of the program's library.

Wednesday, February 24, 2021

I heard about Tiger Wood's accident this morning. Another reason to be glad that Mike is gone. I think this would have hit him hard. My first thought was that he had tried to commit suicide. I heard that one of the Scandinavian counties counts all single-car accidents as suicides. Then I heard there were no skid marks at the site of the Wood's accident. I told Judy my thoughts. She immediately countered with tales of how well his life was doing; she believed he reached for his cell phone and was distracted. He was driving a loaner car and may not have known where all the buttons were. Any car he would have been driving must have had an in-car phone system. Either way, my God, what a tragedy. He fulfills the image of the hero in a Greek tragedy.

I ran into a young neighbor who said she wanted to build a wall around her house to protect her family. Her father has bad PTSD because he spent his youth in a post-war country, running around in the rubble. Some of her fears are appropriate in today's world; some are made worse by the effect of the father's PSTD. How do you tell the difference? You can't just ignore the warning signals you get because there is some reality. How do you sort out the appropriate from the unnecessary?

I was supposed to have D at 11:30. In response to the link I sent, his mom texted me that she had forgotten it was Wednesday and D was at his grandmother's. I took a nap and then a shower. Then I went off for my haircut.

When I came back home, I did some work on my updates. My computer flashed a full disk sign. I had no idea what this meant. I contacted Tommy, my new tech guy, immediately. He stopped off around 6: 30 to deal with the problem. I had taken some action already. I emptied my download file and the trash. That did something. I also worked on deleting duplicate files and earlier forms of files. Tommy found that my phone data was downloaded twice. When he deleted one copy, that freed up a lot of storage.

After Tommy left, I had a quick salad and drove to Costco. A shipment had come in yesterday. I figured if there was a chance of getting vinegar, it would be now—no such luck. No vinegar. What can I tell you? It's Hawaii. I decided to go early on Saturday morning, knowing that a shipment would have come on Friday night. There is no way that it would have been emptied out that early.

I had the rest of my dinner when I came home. I watched something on the TV and got my charity donation receipts for my tax preparation.

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Musings:

After all these years of thinking about selfishness, I had a new thought. Selfishness has something to do with not taking someone else into consideration. It's also assuming that you have no impact on others. Some people think I'm narcissistic because I am very aware of my possible impact on others. They think this means I think I'm someone special. That's because they can't bear the burden of thinking of themselves as having an equal impact. Regardless of what they do or don't do, I believe everyone has the same degree of impact on others.

I can see people pointing to a major political leader's impact versus some hermit living in a cave. The spectacular personality has the support of others. The degree of their impact depends on the degree of support they have. Donald Trump has not done what he has done alone. Not even he thinks that. He knows he is dependent on his base and has shamelessly played to them. He is where he is because he is standing on the shoulders of others. He is just a manifestation of their will.

Of course, after I had generated the idea that the difference between conventional ideas of selfishness has to do with taking others into consideration as we live our lives, I was reminded of my experience with the scammers. They definitely considered me; they had to get what they wanted out of me. So I'm back to square one on the definition of selfishness.

I have a bias against those who deny their negative impact on others. I had to deal with that with my mother, who thought nothing of using me as a whipping boy but then denied that what she did hurt me. When I told her she was, she argued I was just saying that to hurt her. She believed that she couldn't hurt me when she didn't intend to. The 'innocent' of the world drive me nuts.

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

I called Jean, my hanai sister, first thing this morning. She had agreed it would be good to get the information about my approach to reading into the prisons. I thought of posting a video design for men in prisons. Then it occurred to me that there would be no way for them to see it. They are not allowed cell phones. I realized there is no way they are allowed unlimited access to the Internet. How was Jean picturing them viewing this video? I called her to ask. Her first question was if I could put it in a written format. I told her no. If Dorothy, who is highly educated, has a strong background in linguistics, has worked on editing my book, and my article didn't get it until she saw the demonstration, I couldn't imagine that the men would. As it winds up, the prison has its own channel. They post acceptable material on it. I can put together a video, and Jean can appeal to the head of the prison's education department. She says he's a good guy and would probably do it. Putting together a video presentation for the men won't be as complicated as putting it together for the tutors. It will be stories and demonstrations with invitations for follow-up questions. I will do Phase I in one video and Phase II separately.

I thought of posting ongoing short videos answering questions on how to teach. I am inspired by some of the videos posted by young women giving makeup and skincare advice. They experiment and share their experiences. Love it.

When I went to open the PowerPoint file this morning, it was corrupted. Tommy, my tech guy, worked on my computer last night. He said I was having problems with the Microsoft One Drive because while one computer was a Microsoft, the other was an Apple. His solution was to eliminate One Drive from both computers. I did find one uncorrupted PowerPoint file, only one. I found the modifications I had made yesterday within one of the corrupted files. I was afraid to copy and paste, fearing corrupting my one intact file. Instead, I went back and forth between the two, making the modifications.

I thought to send the uncorrupted file to myself via email. That way, it would be saved. I tried to attach it but couldn't find it on my computer. Now, that was another breathtaking moment. I went back to the PowerPoint and clicked save. It said the file was saved in One Drive. Tommy had told me he had eliminated One Drive from both of my computers and put everything into documents. When I opened all the other files, I saw that everyone he saved into Documents, having removed them from One Drive, was corrupted, every single one of them. Tommy is supposed to come over tonight to work on my phone problem. I will raise this issue with him. I now know why those files were corrupted. It's Microsoft's payback for not playing their OneDrive game. I rejected them, and they got back at me. Yikes!

After I made the modifications to my one intact file, typing it in myself rather than copying and pasting, I went to town. My first stop was Kaiser to pick up some medication for my skin. I was concerned that the order might have been canceled already. I put off leaving the house, not fear out of fear of Covid but out of habit.

Then I went to Costco. The parking lot was relatively empty. I understood that the new shipment will be on the shelves tomorrow. The employees had already configured the piles of flats at the entry to force entrants to walk far to the end. They were ready for tomorrow, and the longs lines, doubling back on each other. The center of one of the freezer aisles was loaded with toilet paper, again prepared for tomorrow, and the customer rush. I had half a dozen items on my list, but only two I really needed, lemons and vinegar. I got everything else but those two. They were both out.

At 3, I had an appointment with A. I had trouble finding the Carpenter stories on the tablet I use with very low functioning readers like A. I was able to find three of them. He was going through them much faster. Some might say, "Well, he's memorized them." In my experience, the low functioning student usually cannot do that. Besides, I can hear him decoding words as he goes along. He is remembering words he had trouble recalling, like very and the boy's name in one of the stories.

I had started the co-writing activity with him in a previous session. His first story was very low-level. Today's story had structure and purpose to it. It was more than 100% improvement over the first one. This assures me that he is not suffering from an intellectual impairment. His problem is all an auditory processing problem. He read the story back to me; he didn't need much help. This is a dramatic improvement.

I had an appointment with J. I was all bent out of shape, figuring out how to help him with his assignment to create a report on a black scientist. He said he had finished it. Huh? I have no idea if this will be acceptable to his teacher; it was three downloads: two photos and one video, all on George Washington Carver. He had written nothing. I don't even know if he read what was written on the photos or watched the whole video. Is this really acceptable work? I suppose it's okay if the only objective is learning the name of the black scientist.

Tommy, my tech guy, was scheduled to come over tonight to help me with my phone. I could not make new entries to my calendar, and all my photos were gone. I hadn't called him in my panic to tell him what happened to my PowerPoint file; he only found out when he arrived. He was able to fix all of the above. I don't know what he did with my phone, but I know he surrendered to the tyranny of Microsoft and reuploaded One Drive. It seems like everything is up and functioning.

On my walks, I ran into t woman who complimented my hair. "Your hair looks great." This always happens right before I get a haircut, no matter how long I wait. When the Covid shut down started, hairdressers were out. I must have gone several months before I got a cut. Again, right before I got an appointment, I got so many compliments. It's some sort of a joke.

Monday, February 22, 2021

At 7:15, I participated in the school conference with the special services team to determine if D qualified for an evaluation for classification as a special ed. student.

I told them my concern about his memory problems. I was asked if I worked on alternative methods of solving problems. That's still somewhat of a leap for me. I have to say I only really got it recently when I participated in a video workshop run by the Step-Up Tutors' LA school district. I got it: memorizing the times table is not as important as solving a math problem in life. I told them D couldn't draw multiplication problems, and when I drew it, it wasn't obvious to him to add up all the numbers. One of the team asked me if I was using evidence-based methods. I responded I was using phonics. She said, but you're just adjusting it to him. I made no comment. I know when it is futile to discuss this topic with people. The principal knows the success I've had; this other woman doesn't know me from Adam.

They didn't have any statistics from this year, but they did from last year. D had in the 12% in math and the 9th in reading. They decided he didn't require evaluation because the referral came from the home instead of the school. Huh? Did anyone notice his percentages? Doesn't that suggest that there was a failure on the part of the teachers? I suspect Daniel is not being referred for various reasons: he's a nice kid and doesn't make any trouble is one. While no one considers him to be 'intellectually disabled." He's not the sharpest knife in the draw. My guess is he has an IQ between 80 and 90. His mom says he was slower in understanding everything than his three older sisters were. However, there are ways in which he demonstrates intelligence. It's confusing.

The school decision was that he was to get extra in-person help. He will be coming into school to work with a teacher. At one level, I hoped his mom would decide, from what she heard me say in the meeting, that I could not help him and suggest that I drop out. Ah! That would be good. On the other hand, I'm looking at different ways to help him. I'm wondering if I have really done a good job or gotten stuck on helping him with his memory, which has gone nowhere.

I did some work on the PowerPoint for my Phonics Discovery video, making changes Damon and Cylin's responses suggested. Then I went to save them. Oh, boy. The files I saved were corrupted. The changes I had made were saved, but all the graphics were a mess. I did find one uncorrupted file and resolved to work with that one, but not that day.

I had H. at 2:15. He was reading to me from Dog Man again. Since I don't have a copy of the book, he has to repeat what he says to me when I don't understand or explain things made clear by the illustrations instead of the words. The exercise serves the purpose of teaching him the rules of conversation.

After him, I had J. I asked him about his grades. He got good grades in math, reading, and art but was low in language arts, writing. I asked him if he had any writing assignments. He did. Why didn't he ask me for help right away? When was it due? Thursday. When did he get the assignment? Last Thursday.

He had to write or create a multi-media presentation on a Black Scientist and explain how he inspired people. He remembered Kizzmekia Corbett. He was able to bring up an article on her from some British publication. I knew it was British because they spelled color as colour.- a telltale sign.

The vocabulary was way over his head, although I could get him to correctly infer the meaning when using the word in contexts that were familiar to him. He brought the online instructions. Yikes! It looked hard, - and then I saw it was an assignment for grades 6th through 12th. Well, he obviously didn't have to fulfill the highest standards. I will have to think about this and do some research on my own.

I thought I would have to cut the session short because of my next client when I got a text notice saying they had to cancel because mom was suddenly called into work. She's a pediatric nurse. I think everyone in the medical profession is on-overload now.

I checked out a video series on Netflix called The Sinner. Too much drama. I want MidSommer Murders, Endeavor, etc. Everything is designed to be edgy these days. We are living on the edge. I need relief from that.

Sunday, February 21, 2021

I woke up at 3:30, anxious about the PowerPoint presentation. I felt a need to show it to people but wondered if it was ready. I felt I couldn’t fuss with it anymore. I got up at 4:30 and played FreeCell. Around 5, I went over the PP presentation again. That’s it. I made a few mistakes, and I’m sure I will make a few more when I show the slides to others. I contacted Damon, Judy, and Dorothy’s friend Mary, saying I was ready to show it to them. I also called my friend Carol in Ohio. Again, she didn’t answer the phone. This time when she got back to me, there had been an emergency. Her son-in-law had collapsed and was in the hospital. She was with her three school-aged grandchildren.

At 11 am, Tommy came over. He texted me at 10:55 to tell me he would be over in five minutes. Definitely not Hawaiian. He was haole, and I asked him his background. Sure enough, German and Scandinavian. My parents were German. On-time meant 5 to 10 minutes early. Hawaiian time runs on whenever.

He went through both my computers. He used Mike’s email and password access to get in and set up another admin account. He was also able to get rid of OneDrive on both computers. It may have made sense on the tablet, a Microsoft machine, but not on my Apple. OneDrive basically kidnapped my Apple computer.

I also asked Tommy about the problem with disappearing graphics on my PowerPoint. He said they were linked rather than inserted, and when my computer couldn’t find the original image on my computer, it deleted it. Great! I had visions of the graphics disappearing right in the middle of a presentation. He said I had to insert images, not link them. No, I didn’t understand, and neither did Dorothy when we contacted her, asking her to email us the original images she created and sent to me. They are great little sketches. My friend Jean also did a drawing for one of the slides. It came on too large a background. I had already emailed her asking if she could make the changes at her end. Tommy knew what to do. Under his instruction, I could shrink the borders without diminishing the image. The kid is worth his weight in gold.

I couldn’t believe I was looking at a 22-year-old. I don’t get to see many of them in my current t life. I was beginning to wonder if they made them anymore. The boy is an absolute Godsend. Besides working on my computers, he felt confident that he could help me attach a slide show to my phonemic awareness audio files and post them on YouTube. He sounded like it would be easy. He took my new disk player and two copies of the audio files, my only two copies, home with him. I have four of the recorded stories on iTunes but not the fifth.

I downloaded an update a day onto the Blog site one year later. I check the statistics every day. Often, it’s zero or one viewer. Sometimes, it will be as high as three or four. And then, every once in a while, it will be 87, completely out of the blue. I have no idea what causes spikes like that or even if they are real or just a computer glitch. It’s fun to watch anyway.

I had a four pm appointment with Damon and Cylin to show them my PowerPoint; so loving of them to support me in this way. When I told Damon what I was working on, he volunteered himself and Cylin as an audience. They were great, responsive, and appreciative. Damon volunteered to tweak the visual aspect of the presentation. He works for DreamWorks Animation; this is his profession. They also had some good questions and observations about the program. I keep clarifying the work for myself. There is a big difference between performing the work and explaining it to others clearly. The feedback of others helps me clarify my own thinking.

Saturday, February 20, 2021

I had yoga in the morning. Then, I had S at 10:30. In our last session, her mom told me that her teacher was pushing S to do more 'scooping,' which means using connected speech, so a phrase is produced as if it's a single word. I had noticed she didn't do it but didn't feel called to address it. She used the correct pitch and loudness as she read the sentence. I started working on it last week. This week I asked her if I could model it for her. S. is very nervous when she doesn't know something. I told her she could participate when she wanted to. "You're a bright girl. You'll figure it out on your own." That is true. She quickly pitched in and then asked to do it independently without my model. Sometimes she got it, and sometimes she didn't. Then the light bulb went off. I asked her if her parents spoke Arabic.

Her parents are from Algeria. Boy, did I hit a nerve! In seconds, her mom was on the Zoom to tell me they are not Arabs; they are descended from the Berbers. I apologized, explaining to her I was just asking about a foreign language spoken at home. Mom, a French teacher at the University of Hawaii, understood my question. Yes, Berber is spoken with a very percussive rhythm. While S uses English intonation patterns perfectly in conversation, when she makes an effort, as when reading aloud, she falls back on the earliest intonation pattern she learned, the one she learned in utero. I told mom to let her teacher know what the problem was. This variation of intonation is not interfering with her comprehension.

At 11, I had A. Mom was busy today and couldn't observe. We reread the Carpenter pieces we have been working with from Book A, #1-4. He is both showing improvement and making some new mistakes. As he relaxes, he is misreading some words, substituting Tommy for Taddy, the name in the story. At least his error showed that he understood he was reading a name. I still haven't figured out if A's problems are all audio processing problems or other cognitive problems. I suspect it's the former. His problem is so bad I asked his mom if he had ear infections. He had bad cases; they put tubes in his ears. Yeah, it's probably all sorts of sensory problems he has to correct or learn to deal with. I must say he has made rapid progress with the method and the materials I have given him, and his mom says she sees a difference in his reading of other material.

After I was through with A, I went over to my neighbors to pick greens with Darby. Our old neighbors, the one with the commercial farm providing greens for the local restaurants that collapsed with the Covid, had covered a lot of the yard with grass, but in this one section, they planted eatable greens. I think it was probably cheaper and easier. The house was transferred to the new owners on the 11th, but they hadn't moved in. The greens were huge, and it seemed like a terrible waste not to pick them and put them to good use. The other day, I saw the husband pull up in his truck and asked his permission to pick them. He gave me the go-ahead.

When Darby arrived to join me in picking greens, she noticed the owners were standing in the yard. We went over and confirmed it would be okay to pick the produce. . I met the wife, a lovely lady. They have moved here from Canada, Vancouver (too cold), having started in China. Besides confirming their permission, I warned them about the haole koa trees taking over the island. They are almost impossible to kill. The farmer next door said he tried every kind of herbicide, and everything else on his lot was organic. He finally pulled the trees out by putting a chain around them and attaching the other end to a truck. May, the wife, thanked me and put her adolescent son, David, to work. While Darby and I were picking the greens for dinner, she told me that the plants I identified weren't haole koa but some other annoying weed.

I had a 1 pm appointment with the acupuncturist. I showered and headed out just in time. When Jennifer asked me what I wanted to work on, I told her about the side pains I'd been having that I now realized were due to the fall I took down a long, long flight I took down most of a 20' long flight of stairs. Jennifer doesn't just stick needles in; she does investigative and healing massage. She said it is this that distinguishes her from other acupuncturists. She was trained in a wide range of Chinese medical practices. I had an appointment with her once before when we first moved here. I thought my session with her was a waste of time. Now, I think she God's gift. She's insightful, works with me, not on me, and has already been helpful.

I was going to go to Costco after that session. It was literally right up the road. Instead, I went home for a much-needed nap.

Then at 5 pm I had I. I asked her what wanted she wanted to work on. She said, "Sounds." She knows she has problems with it. She has said that the work we're doing has already helped. Instead of just Phase I, I introduced Phase II, working on reading unfamiliar words. We worked for 45 minutes instead of half an hour. It's great that she is up for that much work, but I will have to arrange it with her mom to extend the sessions. In our work on Phase II today, it became clear her knowledge of the vowel letters wasn't secure. She asked if n was a vowel. I called her mom and gave her an exercise to help her learn them.

I watched The Paul Taylor concert from the Annenberg Center in Philly a few more times, well I watched the second piece, Cloven Kingdom, the contemporary work. The more I watched it, the more I liked it.

I started watching the Whole Wide World, which Jean, my hanai sister, recommended. I realized I had seen it before and enjoyed it again. It warranted another viewing.

_____-____-_____

Musings:

There is a difference between loving tolerance and resignation for ourselves and others. While there certainly is a place for both responses, I think they're overused. I see people in physical pain saying, "Oh, well. I'm old." Or "Oh, well. My mom had the same problem." These folks won't even explore the possibility of changing.

We all have moments like this. I remember Mike's more than mine. He had a lousy posture; slumping in a chair was his preferred position in life. I tried to get him to change. He'd make an effort and say, "Wow! this is so comfortable- not." Change requires a tolerance for discomfort and some degree of risk. There's the devil we know and the one we don't know.

Some live believing you should never expect people to change. I disagree with that. Besides my comfort, I think it is our job to help others become better people, their better selves.

It is also true that changing a stable if dysfunctional system poses a threat. Will I be able to make it through the transition? Will I be comfortable with the outcome? If the outcome has a chance of being healthier for all involved, it's worth it.

I know Mike and I went through a change like that. It caused the worst period of our marriage. I sent Mike off to Washington DC to get his second Ph.D. He spent four days a week during the school semester for six years living in a dorm. I think he learned he didn't need me as much as he thought. He became more self-reliant. While all that sounded good, I believe it created a distance between us that became painful for both of us. We stuck it out because we both thought that the other was a good person, and neither of us had any place else we wanted to go. When the smoke cleared, we entered the best phase of our marriage, the most joyful and loving.

Life is full of risk. If you don't change and don't encourage the people around you to change, you risk an empty life. If you do, you risk the loss of the little you do have. Life is full of risk. It's always a choice.

Friday, February 19, 2021

I woke up early but tried to go back to sleep without much success. When I called Dorothy, she could only speak briefly because she had to move her car so the snowplow could clear the parking lot. They were expecting more snow this evening.

I had a session with Shelly today. I didn't have anything specific to work on, so I checked for the most annoying. That's always a good way in. The most annoying thing that came to mind was property negligence. Two perfectly healthy people will do nothing to maintain it. What can I say? My annoyance with D. came to mind. He is also an unmovable object. There are many immovable objects in this world; some people won't consider changing who are loud and angry, and others are just gently absent and manipulative. It is the latter that is driving me nuts. Winds up, this was connected to my dad.

My dad NEVER got angry. My sister remembers trying to provoke him. While my dad was never angry, my mom flared at the slightest provocation, like leaving a light switch on. Everything was a threat to her. (She did suffer from PTSD.)

When I was twelve (that's as in a preadolescent 12-year-old), my dad told me sadomasochistic relationships between consenting adults was okay. Besides the topic being totally inappropriate, another indication that this was wrong is he had no adult he felt he could discuss this with. A safe measure for inappropriate adult behavior is when an adult uses a child because they have no available adult in their life. Those adults use children because there they feel safe.

At any rate, I 'knew' he was talking about his relationship with my mom. Since I experienced her as hurtful. I assumed he meant that she was the sadist and he was the masochist. (Many years later, I had an encounter with her where she revealed that she thought of herself as sadistic. She did have a touch of that in her personality.) However, with twenty-twenty hindsight, I 'know' that that relationship was a two-part invention. He fostered her sadism. He loved it in her. Among other things, she carried the burden of acting out his anger. I was furious.

My anger at him was frightening. Whatever he was, he was my safe harbor in that family- Stockholm syndrome. Also, if I didn't have a real relationship with him, I had nothing.

Shelly commented about how complex my issue is. She said most people are happy to be working on the central issue. I disagree with that. Most people feel most worked up when working on the central issue, but that's not the most effective place for healing. I want to work on something that feels safe, comfortable, easy, fun, and effective. Each of these items has to be a seven out of ten to feel relaxed enough to allow for discovery and change. If I'm too scared, I become emotionally rigid, defensive.

When I see a high degree of fear or rigidity in a client, I see that as a sign that we are working on a level that is still too hot to handle. It is necessary to move out from that center point, layer by layer, to find where the energy can start moving. When I got out far enough from the central issue that day, in addition to feeling differently, my stomach gurgled. That gurgling is a sure sign of relaxation. My anger at my father for his quiet, controlled pressure on all of us felt huge and 'dangerous.'

One of the sources of my frustration is D. I snapped at him at the end of our last session. There is a possibility that his inability to respond appropriately is neurological; it is also possible that it is psychological. He doesn't want to rouse himself because anger may flow through that open hole. I perceived his mother as a bundle of suppressed anger. From the outside, all looks calm in that household. It really looks lovely. But there is a price to pay.

I had a session with D today. I had a devil of a time finding third-grade multi-step word problems for him to work on. I had to sign up for something, and then it was deleted. Today, I pushed him to say the letters in each word as well as say the word. Wow! that made a difference, or maybe my meltdown on Wednesday made a difference. He caught three mistakes on his own. I was thrilled that he had stopped. He stopped because the wording was unfamiliar; he was paying attention to the meaning. The word problem required two multiplication steps and one addition. He missed the multiplication. I told him to draw the problem. Boy, he had trouble keeping the elements separate. I think this may be a saving exercise for him.

I typed up some inference exercises for M. She is moving so quickly now, she's presenting a challenge. I have to work hard to keep up with her. Yay!

At 2 pm, I had a reservation for the live/online Paul Taylor Dance Concert at the Annenberg Center in Philadelphia. Dorothy turned me on to it. Those amazing dancers doing those athletic work were all masked. I surprised myself by bursting out into tears. I think I'm okay with this remarkable way we're living -and then. It was so good to see them move. It wasn't just good for me aesthetically but physically. My aged unexercised unrehearsed body can still move sympathetically with theirs. Thank God for those mirror neurons.

I called Dorothy shortly after the performance started to discover she had forgotten. She immediately turned it on. We connected after the performance was over. We both enjoy modern dance more than ballet. Ballet is pyrotechnics, but I love how the body moves in contemporary dance. However, there are sinewy ballet dancers. They are my favorites, Wendy Whelan and Misty Copland.

Jean M., my friend, is making a sketch for one of my PowerPoint Slides. I need one of a woman calling her children home for dinner. Her thumbs have to be securely under her chin, and her mouth has to be wide. She misunderstood my request and did a great sketch of a woman in a state of complete panic. No, no. Not a good idea. I want a sane mom.

Thursday, February 18, 2021

Yoga went by so quickly this morning. I think I got both my legs higher on one stretch. I felt the difference was in my back, leveling out my hips rather than making adjustments in my back rather than my hip joints. Yvette had us do a gentle roll to the left and right to stimulate the spine. When I roll to the right, I can easily bring myself back to lying flat on my back. I can’t do that when I roll to the left. The muscles on the left side of my body are not strong enough. It is hard to know if these muscles were damaged before I fell down the flight of stairs at 38 or not.

I finally figured out how long my flight down those stairs was. I had checked ceiling heights in office buildings constructed in the early 1900s in NYC. They were 15 to 20 feet. I was interested in construction, fixing ceilings and walls in my spare time. I lived in a Brooklyn brownstone apartment at that time. The ceilings were 10 feet high. The ones at Hunter were much higher than that. I figured they were 20 feet. Because I had been working on solving math problems with J and D, I finally realized that I could figure out the length of that fall. I checked online for the angle of stairs in a flight of stairs. Plenty of information on that: 30 to 37 degrees incline. I figured the top of the stairs was probably 10 feet from the floor below. So that was the height of the triangle. I was going to try to reconstruct the staircase with cardboard.

Then I realized I could figure it out mathematically. I figure ½ inch equals 1 foot for the height. Then how could I figure out the incline without a protractor? It finally occurred to me to look up the formula for a right triangle with one other angle being 30 degrees. There it was on the Internet. The answer: the flight of stairs was 20 feet. Then there was the landing, which was another 9 or 10 feet. My flight was a straight line from the point I pushed off from the step to the moment when I hit the wall at the end of the landing, the hypotenuse of the triangle, so not 30 feet, more like 20 to 25.

I reshared the story of the fall with people who had heard before, but I said something new they hadn’t heard. I didn’t have a single bruise on my body. There is no way I had any contact with the stairs on my way down. The only contact was with that wall, resulting in a torn left rotator cuff and some pretty jammed-up muscles. As I dropped to the floor after contact, my dance training kicked in again; I turned to land on my fat pads. They absorbed the shock. I get a little freaked out if I think about it too much. I figure the people who saw my Wonder Woman act had to be more traumatized than I was.

As I came to at the bottom of the landing, the young man who stood over me asked if I was okay, assuming I was paralyzed. No. I just got up and went off to my class as if nothing had happened. I wasn’t in pain. I didn’t realize there was any problem until the next morning when I couldn’t lift my left arm high enough to wash my hair. “Michael, I think I have a problem.” I dealt with the problem with a chiropractor and exercise until the problem took a turn for the worse when I was 62. Then I had rotator cuff surgery. Best thing I ever did for myself. It may also have been good that I waited. That surgery was arthroscopic; I wasn’t filleted.

My renewed awareness of the weakness on the left side of my body made me change my gait. I am pushing my right shoulder farther back as I push off on my left leg.

It was a do-nothing day. I spent time sleeping and reading. Ah! I had two clients and wished they would cancel- and then the Internet went down. Too bad!!

I finally watched a movie Jean my friend, recommended, Attenborough’s a Life on this Planet. I only got to see half of it before it was time to go to bed. Somewhat depressing, God, we’re a destructive species. News! We’re about to land on Mars. Oh, yay. Another planet for man to destroy. Depressing.

Wednesday, February 17, 2021

I woke up early, suffering from anxiety. A friend had told me about something going on on the mainland where she lived concerning Covid. Whatever it was, it wasn’t an immediate threat to me. Fear is great – when you’re facing a direct physical threat. It helps you run like hell or fight fiercely. However, when not facing an immediate threat, it is useless at best and counterproductive at worst. All problem-solving skills go out the window because you can’t figure out what the problem is to be solved in the first place. No, it isn’t that tiger growling at you. There is no tiger in front of you. There may be one a mile away. In that case, you need to work out an avoidance strategy calmly. When I came home from my morning walk, I sat down to meditate for an hour. I applied some of the protocols I use. Finally, I could feel the anxiety leave me. Ah! So much better. I needed a nap after that.

Brian, the friendly computer guy, texted to say he was free to come by to check on my computer problems. I thought he would address all my computer problems, but no. He said he was just good at the computer hardware problems. He checked to see if I was indeed having problems with my battery. I was. He ordered a new one. He was going to replace it for a total of $100, including his service. He would charge me less, but I told him that I had money now while the stock market was still alive and well. He was kind to give me a house call and will give me another one when the battery arrives. He gave me the name of someone he thought could help me with my software problems.

He checked on the problems I said I was having with the Surface pro computer/tablet filing system. He said it was weird. He asked if my account was set under Mike’s account. Yep. He said that’s the problem. I will call the Josephinum tomorrow to see if they have a record of Mike’s email password. That’s what I need. I called Tommy, the guy he recommended for my software problems. He’s coming over on Sunday. Yeah!

I had D at 11:30. We worked on math word problems. He does very well solving the one-step 2nd-grade word problems. When it comes to anything more complicated, he misses the point. He has problems with reading because he skips and misreads words. He produces something that makes no sense. He makes careless mistakes with word recognition. He does what comes easily with no concern for accuracy. D is not a bad kid. I fear this ‘laziness is a neurological problem. He is missing something. Whatever it is, it is frustrating for me. I snapped at him today, telling him how his behavior drove me nuts. I don’t know if he can help it or if it’s some chemical lack that leaves him a little too relaxed. He doesn’t respond to errors. I don’t know. I’ve been working with him for a year. Has he improved? Yes, but how much?

I did some work on the PowerPoint. It’s incredible; I made significant revisions again today, making it better; now, there’s a parallel structure that wasn’t there before.

I had M at 2. We continued with the inferencing. I prepared fifteen excerpts before today’s class. She zoomed through them. This is a vast improvement—time to up the ante. I typed up some of the higher-level excerpts from the book we worked in. I also have some prepared from the book at the next higher level.

I was supposed to have J today. I had contacted him, and he confirmed for 3 pm. However, he didn’t respond. I was just as happy to go back to my PowerPoint work.

I spoke to three friends today: Judy, Jean, and Darby. I am so lucky to have so many friends. Judy is doing okay after her surgery. Her sister, Paulette, sent a picture of her wound. She has twenty (20) staples running down her spine. She says she’s doing okay except when she has to get up and move about. She can’t do a lot before she starts hurting. She watched a video of the surgery she had. OMG! Good thing she didn’t watch it before she had it. She might not have been so calm.

Tuesday, February 16, 2021

I talked to Dorothy briefly this morning; Tuesday is her online yoga class. I remembered a dream I had. A family friend had come to visit me in Hawaii. He looked out at the Pacific from my lanai and made some negative comments about the view. I told him he had to follow the house rule, “You can only make one negative comment after making four positive ones.” He asked, “What if I have nothing positive to say?” “Say nothing.”

Other than that, my day was productive. I completed the request for evaluation form for D, dropped mine off at the school, and delivered blank forms for his evaluation and copies of D’s stories to his mom, who filled them out immediately and handed them in. Then I went to Target to buy more Milk-Bone pill pouches and an ear-wash for Elsa. I found the pill pouches but no ear wash. Because she had problems, I had to think of washing out her ears every few days. I headed over to Petco. They had only puny bottles at hefty costs. Forget that. My next stop was Safeway. I pulled into the old Safeway lot again, forgetting they had relocated to their new and improved facility on the other side of queen K. Yvette said she is avoiding Safeway and only shopping at KTA, a local company. I’ve never been to the Kona KTA. I remember Mike wanting to shop there and saying he did find their selection as good as Safeway’s. I have to get myself over that speed bump and try for myself.

Today, I went to Safeway. First, I was looking for David’s whole grain bread. I saw the bakery section where things were fresh baked but not the commercial products. I asked the lady behind the counter. I heard her say, “Outside.” Well, that was a surprise. I said, “Outside??” She had to lower her mask and repeat, “Aisle five.” Besides the bread, I picked up some chicken legs and salad. I will make it to Costco for the giant economy-sized salad sometime this week. This will tide me over. When I went to pay, by metal ‘wallet’ holding all my credit cards was nowhere to be found. I can remember a time in my life I would have flown into a panic, abandoned my purchases, and started off in a dead run looking for the missing wallet.’ That I don’t is thanks to Mike and fifty years of therapy. I offered my other credit card and said my search would start in my car. Fortunately, the first place I looked was in the shopping bag where I dumped all my Target purchases. Sure enough, I had thrown it in there. I am grateful every day for Mike’s constant reminder, “It’s just a problem to be solved.” We have to save the panic for things worth panicking about, like an immediate physical threat, situations where we need the rush of adrenaline to escape our fate. Those situations are few and far between for anyone; they have never been real for me.

Then off to the post office to mail a stack of records to my nephew-in-law. I found someone interested in at least some of the records left after Mike gave most of them away – without consulting me first. He had his moments. Some of the records he gave away were ones I bought when I was in high school in the fifties. There are four or five original Beatles albums I purchased in the sixties. I have no idea if they are still playable.

When the clerk weighed the package, he said, “$56.00.” Gulp! “I said can they be sent media? They’re records.” He said, “No, they have to be copyrighted.” Hmm! “They’re vinyl records.” “Oh! $ 8. 60, but it may take them 6 weeks to get there.” Okay. I also mailed a bottle of MakesNoClaims to Damon. In our last conversation, he told me he has been suffering from some sort of skin problem for the last two years. He told me all the lotions he had tried. I said, “Why don’t you try MNCs?” He ignored my comment. I repeated it. He ignored me again and mentioned some highly toxic medicine he is trying to avoid taking. “Why not try MNCs?” He finally conceded. I have been recommending it for years before he was married, and his son is now 17.

MakesNoClaims is a unique clay that is infused with some sound vibrations. Its real name is Intrasound. It got it MakesNoClaims name from Damon, well, sort of. He read the jar and said, “It says it makes no claims. Ha! Ha!” meaning it was obviously useless. I dubbed the product MakesNoClaims, and that’s the name the whole family knows it.

Recently Dorothy suffered from an annoying skin tag. She was another reluctant family member. Finally, I got her to try it. She reported that it made no difference after a few days. Then the next week, she called and said, “It fell off.” Yep. I have no idea how the stuff works, but it does. You can find the supplier online.

When I got home, I did some more work on the PowerPoint. It is hard to know what to include and what to leave out. I have been using this approach to teach phonics for more than twenty-five years. I have developed all these ways of responding when kids don’t get it. With one kid, I’ll do one thing and with another something different. How do I share all my responses without flooding my audience?

I contacted Brian, my go-to computer guy. He said he could come by in the afternoon. Unfortunately, the afternoon for him meant a little after 2:30. I had appointments starting at 3:30 and some prep to do. I had to resend the Carpenter stories I was using with A. I have to do this every time I work with him. I can’t find documents on the tablet. Maddening.

At 3, I had A. He was reading the material I gave him more quickly and accurately. I struggled with him today to get him to slow down on a blending activity. I had to tell him I understood how he wanted to have the sounds he produced make sense and achieve the blend quickly. However, he would have to slow down if he wanted to speed up one day. He responded. He had to blend ow-n, a part of Brown. Those sounds had no meaning in isolation. He did slow down and became more deliberate.

Before the session started, I asked him some questions. Was he doing better? He didn’t answer my question appropriately. It is hard to know how much is an auditory processing problem versus a general cognitive one. Besides the inappropriate answers he gave me, he had another problem. He had to read the word four. The sentence before told us that Taddy was a little boy. The next sentence was, “He was four.” I told him to just say the /f/ and the /r/, blending them. Nothing. I told him the word was a number. Nothing. I asked him which number he thought “four” sounded like, only pronouncing the f and the r. I said the numbers one through 9. He said nine. He may have tried to figure out the answer from what he thought made sense and ignored the phonemic information.

I called his mom later in the afternoon. She said she has seen significant improvement in him in just a few sessions. We had our fourth today. I would say he had made 100% improvement. Meaning he is 100% better than he was. He was very low Kindergarten level; he is now one level higher, still Kindergarten, but given he hadn’t made this much progress in the last two years of school, I think we have to assume we have a winning program here.

His mom also told me that he had severe earaches as a young child. They had to put tubes in his ears. Ear infections are associated with learning disabilities. I have two students with a history of ear infections now.

After A, I had J. His 4th-grade sister was in the room and participated. J said he wanted to work on math and the “whatdoyoucallit,” referring to the phonemic awareness exercises. He and his sister worked together. For kids, this work is a form of play. It was a three-word sentence. Ju, the sister, worked on the word looked. She gave a pronunciation for the double oo from moon. Now, she might say the word that way using a Spanish accent. I said what I always say when children give a different pronunciation from mine. “If that’s the way you say the word, you are right. If you don’t, you’re not.” I pronounced it was the oo from moon and the oo from book. She said she pronounced it as I did. Those two played with the sounds for a good half hour. I’m hoping they will play together without me. Both will see improvement in their word recognition skills.