Mike's death; Betty's life...: 08/28/26

Friday, August 28, 2026

Friday, September 13, 2024

I spent most of the day in a funk, despairing about my options. The gardening I hoped to throw my energy into was officially out. When I fell yesterday while getting out of rough terrain, I conceded that caring for the property alone was out. I had been having nightmares about it already. It is just not realistic for an 83-year-old woman with osteoporosis and metal replacement parts to risk falling. The metal replacement parts increase my risk of breaking bones. If I fall hard and catch myself with my left arm with its shoulder replacement and elbow reconstruction, every remaining bone in my arm will shatter. I would need a whole arm replacement.

The lack of interaction with other people and tutoring opportunities also weighs on me. My sense of safety has come from interacting with people outside my immediate family- just about anyone. My mother was a source of endless negative feedback. When I interacted with others, I got immediate positive feedback. My mother assured me they were just pretending, and they didn’t really like me, which made me all the more frantic to get that to prove the feedback was positive. I was like Blanche DuBois; I always relied on the kindness of strangers.

The tutoring was doing poorly. I have lost one client permanently, Adolescent D. I’m semi-delighted for him. Only semi-delight because I fear his reasoning. It’s more than semi-delighted, but i do have some lingering reservations. His departure feels righter than it does wrong. He’s working 25 hours a week at Costco, which he loves doing, and is attending school full-time. He has made dramatic changes in his persona since starting work. He feels like an adult who doesn’t need childish things like tutoring anymore.

D is not entirely wrong. He reads well enough now to get through life, as long as he doesn’t have a job that requires reading. I have two concerns. Will he pass the written driver’s permit test to get a driver’s license? And, will he stay in school for the next two years to get a high school diploma- even if he hasn’t earned it because he hasn’t done enough of the work.

Should he decide to take up tutoring again, I’m not sure I would be good with that. I can handle passivity and passive aggressive behavior in a child, but my tolerance for it in an adult drops precipitously.

At Ulu Wini, I worked with first-grade PY again. In our last session, I discovered she had no recall for words or numbers and used her primary visual cortex to embed images into the nervous system instead of Visual Working Memory (VWM). I showed her where VWM was and recommended she use that, only to discover turbulence in that area. I started to work on a spin release but thought better about doing it then.

When she returned today, she could use the VWM area to introduce images into the nervous system. I have no idea what she did, and it’s irrelevant, immaterial, and besides the point. The important thing is she did it and is doing it. I showed her how to coordinate the visual image with auditory recall. Bingo! Within half an hour, she could identify all the letters in the alphabet and several numbers. Some required clarification. She confused u and n, and n and h. I concentrated on letters rather than numbers but presented a few. She could identify 20 and 22 but not 15 or 30. I left the numbers for another day.

After she identified the letters in the alphabet, I asked her if she wanted to start reading words. Yes. I started with THE. She identified the letters, and I told her the sounds. Once she seemed secure, I had her do a word search for THE in books. She had selected a picture book. She scanned every sentence, looking for the word. When she completed the first book, I asked her if she wanted to stop or go on. She wanted to go on. She went through the process with two more books. She worked with me for an hour and a half without stopping except to fill up her water bottle twice. I have never had a student like that, no less one so young.

Not only did she work hard and long, but she also taught me something I had never considered before. The letters T-H-E are part of other words, like they, then, them, other, and together. As she searched for THE, she had to discriminate between the word in isolation and the words embedded with other letters. This would make an excellent drill for visual discrimination between all those words.

The impact on my mood after this interaction was striking. My love of interaction with others is both a strength and a weakness.

I read more of A Man Called Ove and listened to Kingsolver’s Flight Behavior. I didn’t clean the house or do a craft project—both options. I tried meditating, but my grief was so overwhelming that it was to be avoided. There’s only so much I can stand.

While there is reason for this grief in my current life, Mike’s gone. I’m alone, and I don’t have the type of social contact I need to feel lasting relief. Mind you, when I do have contact with the friends I have, my mood quickly shifts. I recognize this state of sadness and despair from my childhood, from before my sister was born. I’m sure my history just makes this moment worse. One strategy is to avoid situations that evoke this feeling. The other is to sit with it and resolve it.

When my mother moved in with me, one of my goals was to help her grow up so she wouldn’t have to live with the same problems again—in case reincarnation was the reality. I have the same goal for myself. I would like to resolve this issue in this lifetime if I can. Do I believe in reincarnation? Eh. I dismiss and accept all the theories of what happens to us after we die. Anything is possible.

Thursday, September 12, 2024

I had a delicious sleep before I woke up at 2 a.m. I lingered in bed for another hour and then gave up. I dressed and went to my old-lady chair. I wanted to meditate but was too agitated to do that. I worked on updates for a good part of the day, then napped.

I went down along the driveway to snap more haole koa trees of all sizes with and without buds or pods. Once snapped, I applied a small squirt of Round Up on the exposed fibers. Lutz says to drill a hole in the trunk and pour in the Round-Up. I had no luck drilling holes. All I made was a shallow depression in the tree trunk. I told Lutz about my problem. He said I had the drill bit spinning in the wrong direction again. I observed the direction of the bit spin. I suppose I could have read it wrong. All I have to do is hit the toggle switch and try the other one.

A man I didn’t know approached me as I walked out into the driveway to do gardening. He was about to leave a note in my mailbox. He was interested in my Bismarck palm. He hoped to get a sprouting seed. I showed him I had several that were already sprouting. He planned to come back the next day to dig them up. Was there anything he could do for me? Yes. I could bring in some small rocks to cover the bare areas. Rocks move. They slip and slide and downright disappear. Nothing says in place as it should. I needed replacement rocks. He said he lived on a construction site and could do that.

Wednesday, September 11, 2024

I went to bed around 9:30, read another chapter of A Man Called Ove, turned off the lights, and fell asleep almost instantly. I awoke at 2 a.m. I dozed or lay in bed and thought for the rest of the night. I had some obsessive thoughts, upset about the circumstances of my life. Except for the occasional uncomfortable surges of miscellaneous shame, I was fine. I didn't get caught up in stinking thinking. Congratulations to me.

Mind you, my life is heaven by most people's standards. I would feel guilty about having any complaints if it hadn't been for the excellent piece of wisdom my uncle gave me when I was seventeen.

He had just delivered me to Cortland State Teachers' College (now SUNY at Cortland) for my first year. I told him how miserable I was. He said something to the effect: Given the suffering in the world, your problems are trivial. "However, every man's suffering is relative to his own experience." What I've learned subsequently is our default brains search out the negative experiences of our lives as our tongue searches for the sore tooth or the missing filling. We're told it's a survival strategy. Yay for the survival strategy. However, it isn't helpful in my sheltered life. Please give me the open road of the hunter-gatherers. Then, I'll have something tangible to worry about.

Figuring out how to deal with our zoo-like existence when we weren't designed for this plush life any more than any wild animal is intended for its zoo life. Eliminate the problem this brain mechanism was designed to address, and it will search for something else to focus on. Every contemporary religion addresses this problem, providing us with tools to calm our racing minds, our troubled souls, and our fear-ridden bodies.

I finally got up past 5 a.m. I made it through my yoga exercises this morning at a good clip. I'm usually interrupted by an urgent need to obsess about something. Not today. Hallelujah

I had an appointment with Shelly, my therapist/life coach. Yesterday, I had been irrepressibly disturbed by my stinking thinking until I decided to focus on an underlying fear. It's not fear of what- just fear. I used the Vipassana technique, focusing on sensation. I instructed my mind and body to look for fear. That calmed me down. I fell asleep again.

I asked Shelly if she thought my underlying negative emotion was fear masked by anger or anger masked by fear. She said fear. When I focused, the sensations started in my calf muscles. The impulse was to run for my life. My mother's verbal attacks were explosive and felt like being hit with a cattle prod. The electrical impulse surged through my body, contracting muscles and driving me to move. But I couldn't. My mom wasn't one of those people who said, 'I'll give you something to cry about' when I cried. I didn't cry. But any sign of distress would have upset her. Then she would have known she had hurt me. She couldn't bear that. She didn't want to hurt me. She just wanted to vent her frustration without regard for me. if I was hurt in the process, it would make her a bad person. She had some concern for me; it just couldn't supersede her fears for herself. She was a frightened, wounded animal. They're always dangerous.

I walked two 5 gal buckets of green waste I collected yesterday from the area to the side of the driveway down to Darby's house. I yelled, "Delivery," but there was no response.

I continued listening to Flight Behavior by Barabara Kingsolver. She is an amazing writer. She seamlessly weaves her concern for the environment into a fictional story and incorporates details of human interaction that are a joy. I also love her voice.

I gave Elsa her three-in-one pill for heartworm, flea, and tick protection. I was supposed to give it to her yesterday. I have to be careful to follow the schedule. If I put it off, I can forget about it altogether.

I went to Ulu Wini today. I wonder each time if any kids will want to work with me. I have two children who come to me each time, both are excellent readers, progressing at remarkable rates.

One is 2nd grade KJ. When I asked her if she wanted to work on math or reading, I was almost surprised when she said math. She told me she loved doing math but demonstrated weak skills for second grade. I gave her a pencil and paper and let her create the math problem. She chose to create a page of problems before she solved one. She started with 10+2= and went down the page, writing an N+2= problem for each subsequent number up to 29+2=. Then, she proceeded to solve them. She used counting-on, showing me how she made a fist for the first number and counted-on using her fingers. She was confident until she hit 29+2=. She had done alright on 28+2=. I think she was surprised that it returned to a number ending in 1. What surprised me was how slow the process was. I was never sure why it was slow; I just observed that. The exercise was a good drill. I didn't do much other than observe. Hopefully, she will want to do more of these exercises.

The second child was 2nd grade, JM. The last time I worked with her, I discovered she didn't know the vowel letters. She still didn't know them. I created a drill after reintroducing them. I left out one letter from the sequence. _e, I, o, u, a,_, e, I, o, u, a,e,_,o,u, etc., and she had to fill in the missing letters. Watching her search her memory for the missing letters was interesting and reassuring. She's going to knock it out of the park.

While KJ could read fluently at a high second-grade level, I didn't think JM would be ready for it. She selected a book from Shauntel's collection, We Don't Eat Our Classmates. When I checked the reading level, it said it was 3-7 years. I don't think so. This is a picture book. They are designed for a parent to read to a child, not for the child to read independently. I found one reading rating the book at 2.3, second-grade third month. There were many two-syllable words in it and some complex sentences. I would rate it at a higher level. JM sailed through this book. I was impressed. I checked my notes on her from last year. She had been hanging on but was not an impressive reader. Now, she was. Her decoding skills and sight word recall were impressive. I taught her how to use context when good decoding didn't nail the sound of the word.

Given that this was the first time I had introduced using context to infer meaning in coordination with good decoding skills, I gave her three choices of possible words. She had to select the one that made sense in the lesson. My guess is this will be the last time I have to do that with this child.

The third child was first-grade PY. She was new to Ulu Wini this year. I never worked with her last year. She wanted to work on math, counting by 10s. I showed her the pattern; the numbers were in 1-10 sequence. It took a while for me to discover while she could count, she could not recognize the written form of the number. If I wrote 15, she could not tell me it was fifteen. She needed to see the number in sequence, 1,2,3, etc, and then count to figure out what it was. I discovered she had no recall for either numbers or words.

When I asked her what part of the brain she used to visualize her blanket, she pointed to the back of the right side of her head. Oh, boy. When I tried to switch her to using the front, it made her dizzy. She had a spin pattern that moved from out to in and slowed down to a halt. Great. I did find out she lives in a contentious home. Her parents are divorced, and there's a stepdad. Everyone yells at everyone else, and her thirteen-year-old sister punched her in the nose. Great. My alarm went off, and I had to leave. Those stress-related 'disabilities' can be complex to work with. They are designed as defenses. If circumstances don't change, how can you convince a young child that they will survive it?

I realized I didn't have to leave as early as I did. I didn't have a tutoring session at home at 3:30. I stopped at Kaiser and took care of two things. My doctor had my blood results back from the other day. Everything looked okay, except there had been a drop in my kidney function. She ordered a urine test. I stopped at the lab desk to pick up the containers for a 24-hr collection. No, it just had to give a small sample. I made a point of drinking more water today because the lack of it may be causing kidney dysfunction. I still was putting out as much as I was drinking. I only made a small contribution to the collection. I was surprised. There was no swelling around my ankles. A drop in kidney function is scary. I saw the impact on Mike. Dialysis is a nightmare.

At 4:30, I sent a Zoom link for my session with fourth-grade LG. Again, there were unresolved connection problems. There wasn't an immediate response when I sent the link. I called the mother's phone. LG answered. His mom had to go pick up his sister. She left her phone with him so he could connect. He was trying. I found it interesting and flattering that he was trying to connect on his own and was not using it as an excuse to get out of the session. His mom returned home and also tried. She had given up on using the internet through the computer. They would stick to the phone. However, not even that worked today. I was tired. I proposed giving up. Hopefully, his dad can solve this problem. Or- maybe the universe is saying I shouldn't continue working with him. Now that I have gotten through to him and shown him the value of following directions, he may not need me anymore, even if he doesn't fully understand why he should.

Yvette came over for dinner. We are committed to doing this once a week. Neither of us is a cook, so she brings a frozen meal. I had a can of lentil soup and a salad. I thoroughly enjoy these events.

Tuesday, September 10, 2024

I woke up late this morning and skipped my yoga routine. I went for my morning walk.

After breakfast and completing the New York Times puzzles, I finally went to the bottom of the property to work on the remaining haole koas. This is scary work. The ground is littered with growth and fallen palm fronds and vines, making my footing precarious. I snapped several easily accessible haole koa trees but never got to the ones along the fence line Dean left for me to do.

When I wasn’t out working in the yard, I was at the dining room table on the lanai working on my updates. I haven’t made a blog entry in a while. I don’t have to write those entries; they were written last year. I must review them and run them through Grammarly again before posting them. No big deal.

I did some more gardening along the edge of the driveway. Much of those areas are entirely overgrown- out of hand, really. The space I worked on sloped down steeply. I remembered it from before the plants obscured it. I was nervous about my footing and tested the ground carefully before placing my full weight. nonetheless, I wound up lying on the gravel strewn ground. I didn’t fall. I don’t quite remember how I got there. It was an awkward moment where surrendering to descent was my best option. I wasn’t hurt. The only question was, how was I going to get up? Fortunately, my agility had improved. I turned on my belly, got my knees under me, and got up. Yay!!

I had the Twins after school. Both girls reported doing somewhat better after learning it is essential to repeat/review what someone has said to remember it. is this really something that doesn’t occur to someone? Why did I learn it? When did I learn it? I remember sitting around the third-grade dining table as my parents practiced the times table with me. My dad, my mom, and I recited them. My dad would say 2 x2=4, I would say 2x3=6, and then my mom would say 2x4=8, etc. you get the drift. It worked like a charm. But that still doesn’t explain why I knew to rehearse the facts in my head, not to say them out loud but to hear them in my head. That’s one of the keys. The other is to allow the information to go to long-term memory. How did I learn to do that? Why do so many of the children I work with not know how to do it and need to be taught how explicitly?

Darby came by to pick me up for our evening walk. I’ve been complaining of feeling like I have to drag myself. My chest felt heavy. Is it heavy from ongoing grief and general sadness, or am I developing a heart problem? I contacted my doctor to ask for a heart check.

I know that sadness does impact the shape of the heart. There is such a thing as broken-hearted syndrome or takotsubo syndrome. The bottom of the left ventricle sags while the rest of the heart maintains its shape. From what I read, this is a short-term disorder caused by sudden stress, not a chronic problem. Since Mike died over five years ago, I should be fully recovered. I don’t know what the problem is. It’s worthwhile checking.

I found an email from my endocrinologist proposing a different medication for my osteoporosis. My back and spine have remained steady; the difference showed in my forearms. The doctor recommended Forteo. OMG! I had to give myself daily injections for two years. After that, I had to take some other medication for life. if I stopped, my bone condition would get worse again. And listen to this: it cost me $450 for 28 doses – out of pocket. Was I that desperate? Maybe. Either way, clambering over uncertain, rough terrain was probably not one of my best ideas.

I told the endocrinologist I was not going to go with the Forteo. It all sounds too toxic to me. Doing nothing is a risk. I would rather take the risk and work on increased strength and agility. There’s another medication, but it, too, has its share of adverse side effects.

I made a start on the video I have wanted to do forever as part of my Reading Hacks series, entitled They’re All Right & All Wrong. It refers to the three reading methods that have taken turns dominating the reading scene since the 1930s. it was the Whole World Method when I started school. Thanks to Mrs. Moore, my second-grade teacher, I got clued into the idea that the letters stood for sounds. She said, “Boys and girls, look for the little words in the big words.” It wasn’t exactly phonics, but it was better than being told I had to memorize each and every word. My reading improved radically after Mrs. Moore clued us in.

The following method was phonics. The version taught in the schools doesn’t have much to recommend itself. It’s a buckshot approach—not much better than Mrs. Moore’s one comment in second grade. But kids like me were given the key to the game and ran with it.

The third method, the Whole Language Method, has dominated since the 1970s. It’s being condemned now, as it was the least productive of the methods.

My argument is that all three methods teach the aspects of reading we need to be good readers, particularly in English. However, not one of the three can function without the other two. I teach how the three interact.

Monday, September 9, 2024

I took a long nap after dinner. Afraid I’d be up again shortly after midnight, I stayed up till 11 watching The Perfect Couple. I slept through till 3 a.m. That was a good four hours of sleep straight. At my age, that’s considered good. I did some stinking thinking in the early morning before getting up. I’m convinced this is a bad habit. I did it occasionally when Mike was alive, but the comfort of his loving presence calmed me. He declared himself my protector early in the relationship. While Mike never did something that dramatic again, the feeling of being sheltered stayed with me for the rest of our lives together. It stayed with me until a ‘friend,’ meaning no harm, started criticizing me after he died. I had lost my protector.

The first time I brought Mike home to meet my mom, he made it clear to her that he wouldn’t allow her to hurt me. I needed a nap and went upstairs to sleep in my old bedroom. If my mom had the chance, she would have torn me a new one for being so rude to a guest, never considering the impact her emotionally violent verbal barrage would have on the guest. What she did was always right because she did it.

Mike came up to my bedroom, pulled out a chair from my desk, faced it toward the head of the bed, and read. My mom got the message. She said, “He’s a real man.” She loved him for it. Aside from one attempt to undermine my relationship with Mike when she first moved in so she could have total control of me, she fully accepted his place in my life and in hers. Mike was my protector. He also did his share of criticizing, sometimes justifiably sometimes not. But nothing he did ever destroyed that profound feeling of deep underlying safety that I felt with him. Now, I have to find a way to get that deep sense of safety on my own. The reality is I am no more in danger now than I was then. I lack a place to relax with a deep sense of safety and release all the accumulated fears, justified or not.

I have had a sore spot on my upper gum for the last two days. This morning, I figured out it’s from a sinus infection. The treatment the doctor recommended seemed to be making it worse instead of better. Each night, I do a nasal rinse with distilled water and whatever is in the packet that comes with the nasal rinse, and then I give myself a few sprays of Flonase. If it continues to get worse, I’ll have to go back to the doctor.

I did no gardening this morning. I left a little late for my Chi Qigong session with Clyde. It is usually just the two of us. Roger, who is an expert in Chi Qigong, will be returned soon. He and his wife are snowbirds; they spend the summers on the mainland and their winters here in Hawaii. When I pulled up, it looked like Clyde had started without me. he was happy to start again. We talked for a while before I headed out to do chores.

My first stop was at Goodwill. I had a trunk full of stuff Yvette, and I had collected to donate. I discovered the store didn’t open until 10; it was only 9 a.m. I went to the bank to cash two checks. The parking lot was jammed. That was okay. I wasn’t in a hurry and could listen to more of Kingsolver’s Flight Behavior. I do love her books, and her voice is a joy. I was surprised to discover no line when I got inside. I was in and out. I still had plenty of time before Goodwill opened. I napped in the bank parking lot. Someone knocked on my window to see if I was okay.

I called Innovations Charter School before I headed out on my rounds. Did they require volunteer tutors to follow their methods? Yes. The teacher would tell the tutor precisely what to do. There was no tolerance for other methods.

A few minutes before 10, I set out to Goodwill. While the shop was open, no one was at the donation door. I brought stuff inside, planning to leave it. Someone came around, concerned I would leave things they couldn’t use. The empty containers from my Kirkland Chocolate cover almonds were out. They couldn’t accept anything they couldn’t charge at least $2 for. Too bad. They make great canisters. They also couldn’t use Yvette’s bag of hangers, her old mop, or the socks I wanted to contribute. They accepted the bathing suit and a T-shirt too big for me.

Next, I went to Island Naturals. I needed more Vitamin K-7, which helps boost calcium absorption. While there, I picked up two containers of mini fruit strudels and a tuna salad.

At Costco, I got two bottles of Blink for dry eyes. I discovered there are two varieties: one for dry eyes and one for contacts. I checked the color of the bottle I had been using. It was the same as the two I just purchased. I picked up two packs of everything bagels and lox I passed their new sushi frig and picked up a large package of California rolls. I hadn’t had that in a dog’s age.

When I got home, I napped. I am dragging a good part of the time. I can do my 10,000 steps, but I have to push myself out the door. My heart feels heavy. I think it’s grief, but I should be smart and get my heart checked.

I had the Twins today, finally. I had in mind to work on having them repeat sentences I read to them. Twin E is still far behind. While she read slowly, she read reasonably well except when she hit an unknown word. Then she offered a wild guess, not honoring the spelling of the word or its meaning in context. Both girls did well on the comprehension. When I asked them what the passages were about, they nailed it. They weren’t just good for them; they were good for most kids in their age bracket.

I did some of the repetition exercise. Both girls had trouble repeating the sentences accurately, Twin E more so than Twin A. Twin A gave me back a sentence with the same meaning but not the exact words. Getting the correct meaning is significant, but you lose the meaning if you alter the words too much. It is essential to hear what people say accurately.

Twin E is resistant to hearing anything she isn’t already familiar with. Lots of the kids have that problem. They convert sentences into something familiar and then look ‘stupid’ because they have difficulty learning. If you dismiss any new material and refuse to hear it, you’ll have trouble learning.

I had fourth-grade LG later in the day. His Zoom doesn’t work regardless of what type of instrument he is on any of the three or four computers in the house or his mom’s cell phone. I don’t get it. Is this a message from the universe telling us this is not good for him? LG understands complex sentences and thoughts. He, like the Twins, cannot tolerate the unfamiliar. If you can’t tolerate the unfamiliar, you can’t learn.

When the teacher taught rounding to the 100th place this year, he got it. He followed her procedure even though he didn’t know why. Last year, when the teacher taught the same procedure, rounding to the tens place, he couldn’t learn it. I created an exercise for him that I hoped would teach him how to tolerate following directions with complete understanding. I used five images from the stock images on the top row. Four of them were present in the bottom row with a question mark. He had to identify the image missing from the question. He struggled a bit even with the images but got it. Today, when I returned to working on sentences, he did much better. Ahhh!

Sunday, September 8, 2024

I was up unusually early at 3 a.m. Instead of sitting in my old lady chair, I sat on the lanai to do my morning seated yoga. I had a predawn view of the ocean four miles away. I was struck by how accurate a child’s landscape picture is. There’s a straight horizontal line for the water’s edge, and the bottom edge of the clouds is also straight. I know the distance of the water by where the water line intersects with the palm tree on my property. Weird.

When I weighed myself this morning, I had dropped another ½ lb. I became concerned. Why was I losing weight? Twenty years ago, I set a goal weight of 135 lbs. Where I hadn’t made a dent for all those years, suddenly, I had surpassed my goal and was losing more. I needed to watch it.

I cut the haole seed pods off the tree tops Dean took down yesterday and dragged them to the top of the neighbor’s property. Dean and Nina passed on their morning walk as I worked. Dean said he could hear Elsa barking a block away. I heard her bark while I worked. I had no idea she was bothering the whole neighborhood. I don’t think she barks like that when I drive away. Perhaps I need to get my equipment in place and then park the car on the street where she can’t see it.

After loading the full trash barrel in the trunk, I put on a cosmetic face mask and showered. When I put my computer in the car to work for two hours between the end of Mass and the beginning of the crystal healing at Unity of Kona. When I got to the side door to leave, who did I find on the other side? Elsa had been locked out for God knows how long. Why didn’t she bark then?

I was in a distressed state during Mass. Rather than feeling the grief, I found things to aggravate me. Pain and anger are my antidote to grief over missing Mike’s hugs and loving ways. I had a vision of standing toe to toe and fingertips to fingertips with him. I could feel that energy exchange we got when we hugged. By the end of the Mass, I was better.

Monica came to greet me. She’s always warm and caring. I got to know her when she brought me meals while I was recovering from shoulder surgery after my fall. I couldn’t do much for myself. We’ve been connected ever since. I suspect Monica is connected to everyone. She is a lovely, caring woman.

Fortunately, the worst of my distress had lifted since I had that image of an energetic connection with Mike. I told Monica I was losing weight a little more rapidly than I thought was good, despite my two boiled eggs with buttered toast and jam breakfasts. It was a decent breakfast. Yes, I had already seen the doctor. I had lost seven pounds in four months. I thought it had been a year, but the doctor had my last weight in her records and saw it was four months. When I got up this morning, I had dropped another half a pound. It was worrying. I told Monica about the changes I had made in my diet. The Knights of Columbus were doing a pancake fundraiser. She said she would buy me pancakes and make sure I ate them. I ate the pancakes with Monica and John in the parish center. I hadn’t had any in years.

Another couple and their twin grandsons were sitting with us. I had observed the boys for years. I always assumed the boys had a neurological disability. I got no more information on the subject.

I arrived at Unity at Kona well before noon when the crystal healing was scheduled. I conversed with a woman sitting next to me. She looked at my crooked toe and told me it could be healed. I was game. Something about massage with coconut oil. Why not? What harm can it do? I mentioned my shoulder. She said getting the full range of motion in that shoulder was possible. I told her no because I had a reverse shoulder replacement. She insisted it could be done; they used all the same muscles. Actually, no. They were not all the same muscles. With a regular shoulder replacement, they were all the same muscles. The back muscles raised the arm. With the reverse shoulder replacement, the upper arm muscles performed that function. I was told I could never raise that arm to its full height or reach behind my back again. I could only get my arm up that high or my hand behind my back by wrenching the replacement joint out of the socket. This lady’s denial of the doctor’s warning was freaking me out. I told her she was scaring me. it sounded like she wanted to force the arm. She said no. She would never force anything. But she was forcing her point then and there. She insisted on her point of view without acknowledging the information I had. She could have told me she had worked with other reverse shoulder replacements and had accomplished a lot. But she simply denied all the information I had. yikes! I ran for the hills.

While I find the sound bath and crystal healing relaxing, so far, I haven’t experienced any change at all. I feel nothing. I felt something when Denise did a healing on me, and Monica did it after church the other day.

Saturday, September 7, 2024

I delayed getting out there to do what I thought I had to do to get those haole koa trees cut down on the fence line and the trees the used car salesman rock wall builder left up, knowing it would bother me. He told me he couldn't take them down because it would damage my fence. "How about a $30,000 rock wall replacement?" He'd be happy to do that for me. I come to find out this sleaze is a pastor at the open-air church on Palani. His vibes are worse than those at the skin care place that conned me out of a large sum of money.

I needed to get to those offending trees from my neighbor's side because I couldn't reach them from mine- just a bit out of reach. I needed to walk down to the bottom of their property over the freshly overturned soil to get them. I had two fears: first, I feared falling on the uneven terrain. I feared injuring myself and lying there without anyone knowing where I was. It was an open field. If I was conscious, someone would hear me call. The fear of being helpless wasn't realistic. The fear of injuring myself was. I tried it.

I started out on the side of the property where the trees were. I walked cautiously. It went well until I hit a sharp decent. I looked for another route. It was rock strewn. I gave up. I would need a walking stick and closed shoes instead of the thonged slippers I wear for my bum toe. I gave up on that plan of attack. Oh, the second concern. I would be caught trespassing on my neighbor's property. I had no business there without the owner's permission, mainly since I intended to cut down trees on her property. Mind you, every other tree on that property had been cut down. The only remaining ones were on my fence line. An act of petty vengeance on the part of the used- car salesman/contractor.

Instead, I walked down my driveway, intending to do what I could with the trees on my side of the fence at the bottom of the property. I was distracted by flowering haole koas lining the driveway. Before I ever got to the target trees, I filled a barrel with haole koa green waste.

I passed the Schefflera Dan had cut down, and we had tried to kill the trunk. I had been down there several times to pull off new shoots. The tree trunks were bare on my side of the fence. Wow! The treatment worked. I texted Peter to tell him to take care of the one on his side of the fence.

I did get there and cut down the ones I could with my 6" Eco chain saw. I got to at least a dozen. These trees were about 20" tall. As they fell, they braced each other. Separating them was up there with a game of pick-up sticks. I had to dislodge one to let another fall. Then I got my chainsaw stuck in a tree. The tree fell toward the cut instead of away from it. I didn't have the leverage or the strength to lift the tree off the saw blade.

By then, I had a full barrel of haole koa green waste. I texted Nina to ask if I could come over to deliver what I had. She said it was a good time. I drove over there. They joined me this afternoon for our weekly game of Sorry and conversation. I asked Dean if he could help me free my saw. He's over six feet, young enough to be my son, and exceptionally strong. I figured it would be a piece of cake for him. However, I was concerned he wouldn't say no if he didn't want to do it. I told him to take care to respect himself. I had two other options.

Joseph came home from his hike with a friend. I asked him if he could help me free my saw. He was game. He tried to deepen the bend in the tree. I think he hoped he could snap the trunk. It was too thick for that; that's why I used the saw. He pushed the tree in the opposite direction and freed the saw. My hero!

I was scheduled to have a session with the fifth-grade Twins this morning. I texted Mama K, telling her I had sent the Zoom link. There was no response. I called. Twin E answered the phone. Phone etiquette is not her thing. I had to pull information out of her. I asked why she answered the phone instead of her mom. She said something I didn't understand. I finally got that Mama K was sad. Why is she sad?" Because her cat died. "How did she die?" It got run over. Well, that ended any chance of working with the Twins today. I sent Mama K a condolence text. I know what it means to lose a beloved pet.

I worked on the updates and other gardening activities and watched Scrublands on Amazon. It is very well done. There are occasional scenes of violence, but I found them bearable. It's a great mystery. You know 'who did it' in the beginning, but the 'it' of it is more complicated than meets the eye.

Dean and Nina came over for our Saturday Sorry session. Dean won the game today. Nina hadn't eaten her ice cream before she came, but when she does, she always wins.

We talked about the haole koas I was taking down. I told them of my adventure on the property next door, trying to reach the bottom to reach the remaining trees. Dean proposed he do it. He easily walked down along the fence line on my side of the property. The sharp decline that intimidated me was no problem for him. He snapped most of the trees. Snapping weakens the tree more than a clean cut with the saw. Dean needed a saw for one of the trees because the trunk was too thick even for him. He didn't want to use my power chain saw. Did I have a hand saw? I did, and it was easily accessible. I had a curved hand saw. He thought it was perfect. He took down most of the trees, leaving a stand on my property.

B passed while Dean dragged the trees he cut down to the top of the property. He thought to turn off the truck's ignition, knowing the exhaust bothers me. He had dropped a load of his accumulated stuff. It makes me happy to know he's working on it. It means a lot to me.

Despite the activity, it felt like an empty day. I watched the end of Scrublands. So well done. Great cast, great characters, and a great mystery. The conclusion was something you could have suspected, but I didn't.

Friday, September 6, 2024

I slept well till 2:30 and then dozed until 4. Sadness overwhelmed me. There’s a lot of disappointment in my life. Relationships are important to me. I need people who care about others and who are capable of showing concern about the needs of others even when they don’t get brownie points or blue ribbons for heroics. Also, the lack of opportunity to tutor is hard on me. I need the activity. Barricades are going up left and right. The schools won’t allow volunteer tutors unless they do precisely what the teachers tell them to do. They are posting names of approved tutors. You have to work with their exact methods. I can’t give it away. My heart is breaking. Gardening helps occupy my time, but it is overwhelming, too. Even those who garden regularly are overwhelmed because of all the rain.

I attended the Hula class this morning. The moves are becoming familiar. The one dance that still undoes me is “Lovely Hula Hands.” It includes many above-the-heart arm moves. Since the accident, my left arm will never go up as high as the dance requires. I get tired easily. However, one reason I attend the class is to get more of those moves in.

After class, I drove to the bank to cash two checks. The parking lot was packed. Oh, boy. I needed to get home and take a nap, so I headed home. I had a 1:40 same-day doctor’s appointment. I didn’t see my regular provider. The doctor I preferred was only doing same-day appointments so she could spend more time with her infant son.

I wanted to see the doctor to get a prescription for Xanax. The receptionist/technician at the hyperbaric office recommended I get the medication. She said many of their clients felt anxiety while enclosed in the tank. This was the solution. The doctor advised against it. Xanax promotes dementia. Hmmm! She recommended a natural supplement, 200 mg of L-Theanine, 200 mg. thirty minutes before I entered the tank.

I also needed her to look at my ears. I was feeling more consistent pressure on the left side of my head. I felt some discomfort when I pressed on the jaw joint, my Eustachian tube, and my cheekbones. It sounded like a sinus infection. She recommended a nightly nasal rinse followed by a Flonase nasal spray. It would take two to three weeks to clear up. My problem may have been made worse by the hyperbaric session, but I felt pressure on the left side of my head for most of my life. Sometimes, the pressure of the earphones on the left side of my face is too much.

Thursday, September 5, 2024

Last night, I slept straight through from 9:30 to 4 am when I got up. Before breakfast, I went out and picked up another bucket of haole koa trash from along the driveway and drove it down to Dean and Nina's.

I finally found the courage to speak to Andrea, the receptionist/technician at the hyperbaric clinic. Most of my imagined dialogs didn't sound good. I was defensive; I get sarcastic when I'm defensive. Not a good look. I felt the victimhood fall away and became a reasonable human being. Shelly's support for my point of view probably did the trick. It allowed me to ask for what I wanted without being defensive and consequentially obnoxious. I could calmly express my concerns and see if my fears were valid. I was concerned she would say I had to fix the problem of my sensitive ears and newly developed claustrophobia. My issues with the hyperbaric made me the problem. She didn't respond that way.

Andrea told me having problems with ear pain and fear were common. Concerning the pain caused by pressure on my eardrums and Eustachian tubes, she said she would adjust the pressure. As suspected, she had lowered the pressure when I complained of ear pain and maintained a low pressure throughout the session. I asked if that didn't make me a poor candidate for hyperbaric pressure for my purpose, improving my quality of life in old age. Some research has shown that hyperbaric pressure improves telomere length and cellular senescence. Cellular senescence, an irreversible cell-cycle arrest mechanism, is when cells stop operating as they did in a younger body. Lutz calls them 'ghost cells.' They're not dead, but neither are they quite there. The increased oxygen absorption in the hyperbaric tank renews them in some way. For this to be effective, the pressure must be at a 2 ATA, not lower, and you must be in the tank for an hour. If I couldn't manage either of those two factors, there would be no point in me doing the procedure.

Bailey called and said he would have my new PC laptop ready by today. When I didn't hear from him, I texted him to ask, but I still had no response. I finally called. The first attempt to load the new computer had failed. It was in the process now. He said it was 99% done. I could drive down there, and it would be ready in minutes. He said it would be ready in the morning.

Mama K called and said I could work with her fifth-grade Twins today. She initially told me the girls were available Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I arranged my schedule accordingly. I told Shauntel I would be at Ulu Wini on Thursdays and Fridays. I was about to head out when I got Mama K's call. I would arrange my schedule.

I called the fourth-grade LG's mother several times. I wanted to talk to her about this new approach I wanted to take with LG. She never answered. I spent the evening creating an exercise I hoped would address his problem. We'll see. I think it is a psychological problem—of sorts.

His need to 'understand' why he is doing something prevents him from following directions. I suspect this prevented him from learning to read until I got to him. Once I explained he could not count on a one-to-one correspondence between the letter and the sound, he rapidly learned to read. All he had already been taught in school made sense, and he made rapid progress.

Mike and I had similar problems when we were children. Whatever problems we had in childhood persisted into adulthood to some extent. I do much better just following the bouncing ball and doing an activity I don't fully understand – to my satisfaction. However, I still have lingering auditory processing problems. Remembering a new Hawaiian word is still a challenge. I have to work on it, and it may still slip. Those with good auditory processing skills inhale new words in another language. My sister does that. She's off to visit her son in Holland next week. I bet she'll come home with a basic knowledge of Dutch. She will have to wrestle down her lifelong knowledge of German. It's harder to learn something slightly different from what we already know than to learn something totally foreign.

Mike could only understand something if he already had a good basis. He couldn't just memorize miscellaneous facts. He was really ashamed of the way he learned. Mind you, wound up with two Ph.D.s with straight A's from Columbia University and Catholic University with this' disability.' It was only a serious hindrance when he took the standardized tests for college entrance, both the SAT and GRE. He had to get a good grade on the SAT to get a scholarship to Columbia and then on the GRE to get a scholarship to Catholic University. In both cases, his scores didn't qualify him. The story is he was the only one (of what group, I don't know) who didn't get the scholarship upon entering Columbia. In the case of Columbia, he was awarded the scholarship the following year when they saw what a good student he was. The story is he was the only cohort member with a scholarship in the end. In the case of Catholic, it didn't work out as well. They did not change their minds when they saw his work. They based the scholarship award strictly on the GRE.

Poor Mike took the GRE twice, trying to get his grade up. The second time, I went to the test site with him and sat in the teacher's lounge with other middle aged people, waiting for the children to take them home. We lived two blocks from the school. When he came out of the test, he was crying. He said, "Promise me I never have to take that test again."

Mike allowed me to help him study briefly. His problem was obvious. He couldn't make sense of language if he didn't know the content. These tests are a series of essays on random topics. It's a language test, not a test of subject knowledge. He was lost. He defined himself as someone with a learning disability, actually believing I diagnosed it. No, I did not think of him as having a learning disability; I thought of him as having poor language skills. Those can be taught and learned. That's what I do for a living.

Later in the day, I drove to town and picked up my new computer from Bailey. He offered to recycle the old one. I accepted his offer.

Wednesday, September 4, 2024

I read an old update. I saw the name of one of my students. I remembered the name but little else about her. I think she was in one of the lower elementary grades, first, second, or third. I assume I worked with her on her reading, but I don't remember anything about the work. I have no idea why my relationship with her ended. I looked up her name on my calendar. It's worse than I thought. I worked with her between January and April of this year. The sessions stopped because it was the end of the school year, which ends in May here. When she the next school year, she may have been doing well enough to not require more tutoring. Most of the kids I work with improve their reading during breaks in the sessions. That is not the usual pattern. My method works to teach students how to teach themselves how to read.

I got some gardening done today. I took down several haole koa trees in the upper north corner of the lower lot. These trees had many bean pods on them, holding the promise of lots more haole koa. They're aggressive enough as is. I pulled off every pod before putting the branches with leaves into the trash barrel for Dean. I dropped off what I collected. I could have waited until I had more. The lot is still rampant in these trees. I would have had to drag the half-full barrel down to the bottom of the lot. Wrestling with it didn't seem worth it.

I had an appointment with Shelly, my therapist/life coach, for the first time in three weeks. She had been in Japan visiting her daughter, a special ed. student. The daughter is bright but has a slow mind and presents as different. Her life has not been easy. The daughter decided she wanted to move to Japan to study Japanese. It seems to be a good fit. She's there on her own and doing okay.

My topic was the trauma as a result of the hyperbaric treatment and its aftermath. My ears hurt badly as the session started. The attendant, the doctor's receptionist and wife, had to lower the pressure. I was comfortable after that. That night, I woke up badly frightened about my first experience in the tank. I felt helpless in that situation. You are entirely dependent on the response of someone outside that pressure-sealed tank. You're sunk if you have a problem, and they don't respond. Shelly was supportive of my fear and told me not to work with these people if I distrusted their willingness to respond to my needs.

They gave me reason to doubt their ability or willingness to respond to what I asked for. Responding doesn’t me giving me everything I want. It means acknowledging that I asked for it and treating the request with respect.

I had a conversation with the doctor that alarmed me. he told me I could strengthen the bones in my forearms by doing squeezing exercises. He told me to do twelve reps three times but didn’t make it clear what I should use to do the squeezing. Every time I asked he what I should use, he repeated twelve reps three times and ignored my question. I realized he had a hearing problem. I use exaggerated lips motion suitable for someone who relies on lip reading to hear. He still didn’t get it. I finally got through to him but it took a lot of effort. I had a similar problem with his assistant who monitored my experience in the tank. Their behavior was frightening. How can I rely on people who don’t listen or don’t hear?

I could have worked with the fifth-grade Twins today, but no one was home to make them get on. They're passively resistant. I don't blame them. They work hard. Someone unable to repeat a four-word phrase verbatim has difficulty in school. People respond to them either with annoyance or judge them as stupid.

Once, deaf people were considered stupid because they couldn't understand or speak. Then, hearing aids and lip reading came in. Poof! Deaf people suddenly weren't so stupid anymore. I'm betting the same thing will happen with people who suffer from auditory processing problems. While they're not deaf, they have difficulty processing language. For them, everyone sounds like they have a bad connection. They hear every other word and have to infer what someone means. Besides not understanding what others have to say, poor auditory processing problems interfere with memory. How can you remember what you didn't hear in the first place? Secondarily, how can you remember what you don't deliberately record in your working memory? I know some people hear things once and can remember them. I'm not one of those people.

I had a session with fourth-grade LG. Again, we had problems with the Zoom connection. The new computer was up and running again, but it disconnected and reconnected repeatedly. I have no idea why we were having this problem.

Today, I had LG read a passage and tell me what it was about. While he was somewhat hesitant and sometimes gave incomplete answers, he was okay. then I went back to the IN THE BOOK exercise. Here's a sentence we worked on.

Bicycle riders are learning to take better care of their feet. They wear shoes with stiff bottoms.

IN THE BOOK:

1. Who wears shoes with stiff bottoms?

The answer to the question is 'they." All he has to do is give the word missing from the question. He can't do it for love nor money. I see it as a problem because he can't do something that doesn't make sense. Now, that discernment is a positive trait until it becomes a negative, as are all our traits. It was that trait that had him entering third grade unable to read. I think he has improved because he learned how to round numbers to the hundreds place following the teacher's instructions, and he follows them beautifully. He didn't get bogged down asking why round numbers. He could just follow the directions and figure out the meaning of rounding afterward.

I was that way in school. Many people commented on my intelligence when I was a kid., but I didn't find school easy. I thought I was a mentally retarded overachiever. School was an agony for me. I couldn't just follow the teacher's directions. I had to know the deep meaning of everything before I did it. That's what this boy is like. I want to save him from this. I think he does it to avoid confusion and chaos. I may have done it for that reason, too, but I don't think so. My dad taught me that school learning was a waste of time and to always seek a deep understanding. He spent most school nights by my side, helping me as I wailed, "I don't understand." And "I can't do it." I really didn't understand it by the standard he had set. This pattern continued until I was twenty-six. I was sitting with a group of friends and said, "I understand it here (pointing to my head) but not here (pointing to my solar plexus). A friend declared, "Finally." I had no idea I had a choice. Once I got it, my life became much easier.

Tuesday, September 3, 2024

I just discovered I wrote nothing for September 3. Either that or Microsoft

deleted my file. That happens. Microsoft is maddening. Bailey, my go-to tech, says everyone complains about it. How is it Microsoft can’t fix the problem? I hate to think of authors who lost months of work, if not all of their work, due to such a glitch.

I write to soothe my soul. I enjoy figuring out how to put my thoughts into words. It’s fun and occupies my mind, distracting me from unpleasant thoughts. I get to write in Hawaii with a view of the Pacific. It’s a great combination.

Current updates are sent by email to about 40 people. I know some read it; I am also sure some have added my email address to their spam list. Some have asked me to remove their names from the list. I am delighted and amazed that some continue to read it regularly. Some make comments on what I write. I’m always surprised.

When I write, I assume at some level that someone is reading it. I wouldn’t be so happy writing it if I thought no one did. It’s nice to contemplate an audience.

I post entries a year later to the public blog I maintain. When I first started, I would get daily numbers like zero, one, and two. Then, it shifted into the low double digits. Then, some English teacher got hold of it and assigned it to their class. The daily count ran in the hundreds. The final count to date is 102,636, with hits from 19 countries with counts of over 200 and another 4,000 hits from unidentified counties. It was quite a surprise. For the last two months, my daily count has been zero. It fell off when I stopped making entries last year because of my fall, resulting in a shattered elbow and shoulder, leaving me unable to use my arm for much of anything for months on end. I wonder if it will ever pick up again.

Besides the creative pleasure of formulating sentences, writing assuages my loneliness and fills my time. I am blessed to have it in my life.

Monday, September 2, 2024

I woke up panicked at 12:30 after going to bed at 9:30. I tried to stay in bed, but it was pointless. I got up, dressed, and meditated in the living room. That did nothing to calm me. I got my Kindle and read A Man Call Ove. The movie A Man Called Otto with Tom Hanks was based on the book. My friend, Jean, who recommended it, said she enjoyed the book more than the movie. I enjoyed the lead female character in the movie. In the book, she’s Arabic; in the film, she is Latina. Otto/ Ove is taciturn. The only emotion he shows is annoyance. In the book, the author shares Ove/Otto’s thoughts. You better understand what motivates him and how he and his wife made a mutually enjoyable marriage. Once I got beyond dealing with Ove/Otto’s rigid ‘always right’ personality, I enjoyed him and the book.

Three new people joined us for Chi Qigong today. They had attended the sound bath. One woman, Colleen, had lived on the island for a long time. The other two were a couple from San Francisco visiting for a week. I was impressed that they found activities available to the locals. Most tourists hit the ‘sights.’ They asked Clyde and me why we had moved here. The big message from both of us is we love living here. The longer you live here, the more beautiful it gets. Mike and I both noticed that odd phenomenon.

Mid-morning, I went to Costco to buy the computer Bailey, my computer tech, recommended. I drove to his shop, dropped off the Lenovo, and picked up the HP I bought on Friday. Bailey said the HP model I bought on Friday was just a toy computer. Done and done.

The fifth-grade Twins were home from school today because of Labor Day. I worked with both of them. They both fell asleep on me. No, they weren’t tired. It’s their response when they struggle to understand what I say or follow directions. I taught the G before E rule again to Twin A, having her repeat my words. Doing that required a good ten repetitions. I broke it down to a few words at a time, asking her to repeat the exact words I had said. This is very hard for both girls. I know they are considered cognitively challenged. If they did get an IQ test, their scores must be well below 100. I think of cognition as a set of skills that can be taught. The problem is that if you don’t do the repair early enough, the student feels the learning is a struggle and isn’t worth it. I can’t say I blame them. It is hard work to rewire your brain.

It looked like it was going to be a clear day. Since I hadn’t slept well, I was tired. I napped, planning to do some gardening later in the day. A light, brief rain fell. I would wait an hour, giving some time for the water to evaporate and time for Jean to call so we could do our daily water meditation. Then, it started to pour and didn’t stop until late afternoon. I curled up on the sofa and binged on Vera videos.

I had fourth-grade LG at four-thirty. His mother couldn’t find the power cord for the new computer, so we would have to use the phone to hear each other. Then, they couldn’t get the Zoom link to work at all. I called it. “Let’s cancel for today. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

The rain let up in time for my evening walk. I broiled a chicken leg. Since the timer on the toaster oven no longer worked, I wanted to wait until it was finished cooking. Darby appeared. She has been walking less. She is absorbed with her best friend, who is busy dying. Ironically, the hospice care workers have figured out how to make her more comfortable than she has been in the last ten years. Pam is a woman with a lot of medical issues.

Darby told me I shouldn’t feed hard kibble to Elsa because of all her lost teeth. I thought dogs didn’t chew their food. Dogs only use their teeth to rip meat; everything else gets downed without chewing. Darby said no, that wasn’t the case. Before we left on our walk, I put her kibble in a bowl of water. It would be soft by the time I got home. I gave Elsa the bowl of softened food when I got home. She scarfed it down. She hadn’t done that since she had her teeth extracted. I had been throwing her the hard kibble loosely on the floor, a method of feeding recommended on some sites to make the eating process more engaging for the dogs. I was shocked at the difference.

It didn’t take long for the kibble to be sufficiently softened. I hadn’t been out long. I only managed to walk to the end of the block before the rain started again. When I reached the driveway, the drops came down so hard they bounced off the pavement.

Joseph came home from playing chess with a friend while I ate dinner. He told me about his day. The political situation is the dominant topic between Joseph and his friends. I can imagine it is. They’re struggling to create lives for themselves in a very precarious world. I am happy I’m old. I’m not optimistic about the future of the human race. I think God is through with this experiment with ‘intelligent’ life.