Tuesday, October 5, 2021

 Tuesday, October 5, 2021

 

    I woke up fully rested and checked the clock. 11:30!  Yikes! This didn’t bode well.  I had a rough night’s sleep. This time I didn’t obsess over interpersonal relations but about the political situation.  I haven’t been optimistic about the direction our country, the world, has been heading in. Each day gives me a reason to be less optimistic.  I made plans to ask Scott to replace the empty propane canisters now.  I think I’ll also check on the cost of adding another Tesla battery.

    During the night, my leg bothered me.  I tried the acupuncture pen on my left calf. That didn’t do much. I used the tennis ball on my piriformis and then moved up the length of the left side of my body. Worked like a charm!

    Joe joined us for yoga today.  He hasn’t been coming on Tuesdays.  Yvette set up. She thought Scott was coming early to do it, but that’s not how it worked out.  She put the yoga toes on both my feet. I was concerned about the left one as well as the right.  I was developing a sizeable blister on my second toe as it rubbed against my big toe.  Unfortunately, I can’t reach down there to slip in a foam toe separator. That would protect the toe nicely.

    I needed a nap after yoga.  I had to get myself in shape for my luncheon with the ladies. I lay down but only had an insomniac’s rest. I did get some sleep, but it wasn’t very satisfying. I got up, showered, and got ready to go. I had plans to do a few chores in town.  I wanted to check the secondhand furniture store for a futon couch.  

       I want to replace the twin electric leather recliners from Costco Mike bought. I was never comfortable in them. They are great for slouching, Mike’s favorite pose.  I tried to support myself with pillows, but the leather was slippery, and the pillows just made it worse.  With a futon in there, I can put up another guest.   Damon and I talked about August bringing a friend with him when they come out for Christmas.  He, or she, could stay in the library this way. 

   The closest stop on the way to town was the jewelers.  He had called to say the ring cutter was working. Good ole Black & Decker.  It’s quite a clever device. A metal piece slipped under the ring and rested against my finger. The jeweler pressed a button, and a tiny battery-powered saw cut through the metal, never touching my flesh. 

    I told him the story of the ring.  I didn’t get a ring until two years after we were married. We had lived together for nine years because I didn’t want to get married; I was afraid it would ruin the relationship.  In the summer of 1984, we were vacationing in Cape May with Damon and Yvette.  We browsed the local shops without looking for anything.  I saw this ring and announced that I wanted it as my wedding band. It cost all of $200.  Mike said, “You know you will never wear it. You don’t like jewelry.” I insisted. I just had it cut off.

      Dorothy described the ring as a cocktail ring, not a wedding band.  Whatever, it’s my wedding band. The crown was twisted gold and with some indentations to embed something. The something embedded in his ring is something shiny and black.  I thought it was opal. A jeweler told me that it was probably plastic. The jeweler I just talked to said it was perhaps enamel.   Either way, two of the pieces fell out over the years, the central piece and one of the side ones.  I saw the ring as a symbol of our marriage. It mainly was pure gold, but it had these black synthetic pieces in it too.  Sounds like life to me. If you have a good one, the gold outweighs the darkness and artificiality. Artificiality is the part of any situation where you just have to fake it until you make it.  I assume that’s part of any marriage.

      I kept my eye on the ring, waiting for the last black chip to fall out and our marriage to be perfect.   I don’t know if it is possible to achieve that goal, no matter how long or how good the marriage is.       

    I planned to go to the bank and to the secondhand store.  I drove over to the bank; the parking lot was jammed.  That meant a long line. I figured I wouldn’t have time.  I aimed my car toward the secondhand store, decided I wouldn’t have time to do that either before  I had to be at Zola’s house by noon. It was almost 11:30.  I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to get there. I decided better safe than sorry.  I was there way too early. I pulled over, tried to read, and opted for a rest, hoping I could shake that lousy feeling. 

   Zola’s house is fantastic. She has a large lanai with a great view.  She served hot chicken salad, a recipe of her mom’s, and a green salad. Then this apple dish, sort of pie without the crust, just some cornflakes on top.  It was delicious.  Despite feeling lousy, I had a great time. I feel comfortable being exuberant with these ladies. It’s been a long time since I was with a  group of people with whom  I felt I could just be myself.  I was the first to leave because I felt like I would fall asleep right there.  I had to make it home before I fell asleep at the wheel. Also, I had a 3 pm appointment with 3rd grade A.

    I made it home by two. I changed and went down for a nap. Again, I had an insomniac’s sleep, the one that never leaves you feeling rested.  I worried the whole time about missing my appointment, although I confess to being frustrated with this student and his family.  The boy is completely preoccupied with being ‘normal.’ I feel for him, but denying his problems isn’t an effective strategy. Also, I can’t get his mother to play the audiofile for him. He has a bad auditory processing problem. She resents my asking her to play it for him. She doesn’t like it; it drove her nuts. It doesn’t cost her any money, and she can play it for him a night so softly that she will never hear it.  Still, she won’t do it.  Given the seriousness of the problem, and the frustration I have to face, perhaps unnecessarily, I again am considering quitting. 

     We worked on his sight vocabulary today.  He still goes through the list in a halting way, figuring out each word. It’s an agony. When I said he was still having problems, he said no. He was okay.  I need his cooperation if I am going to be able to do the BrainManagementSkills with him.

    I established again that he used the front part of his brain to hold visual images. Great! However, he also used that part of the brain to hold auditory information. Not so great. We’ve been here before.  I can see there is a problem. I may even know what he has to do to change his brain pattern, but it doesn’t feel right.  I got him to pay attention to the auditory part of his brain while I  broke down words into phonemes, basically doing what the audiofile does.  He had difficulty holding on to that spot. His mind slipped back to the visual processing center.  There’s probably a release in there that would make short shrift of the problem, but I don’t feel I can do this with him.  He is so concerned about being normal, I’m afraid he will be frightened by the concept of having that sort of movement in his head interfering with his auditory processing. 

I believe he fell asleep as I spoke. That was fine with me. However, his mother told me that he has trouble staying awake during the day and falling asleep at night. While listening to phonemic transcription has positively affected others, I don’t know how it will affect this boy.