Sunday, September 29, 2019

    I woke up with the sun after a not very good night's sleep.  Was it the sound bath? Was it the Chinese herbs for my hot flashes?  I finally got up.  I went upstairs looking for my pills, which I was unable to find the night before. Damon came down to the kitchen.  He wanted to walk to the main strip to get some coffee.  

    We waited halfway down the hill for Eddie to drive by.  He was going to leave his car on Damon's street. Eddie was heading out of town for a week and couldn't leave his car parked on his street without moving it regularly. 

    Damon and I continued down the hill to Starbucks.  It was a place called Starbucks Reserve, some monster version of the usual Starbucks.  He got a coffee for himself and a chocolate chip cookie for me. Then we headed back home.

    He made himself and me breakfast: scrambled egg with mozzarella and avocado on a wrap—another goodie.   Cylin joined us, and he made one for her too.  She revealed that they both had bad feelings about the man-made crystals.  They hurt Cylin's forearms.  They looked them up when they came home.  One thousand dollars each.  Wow! More valuable than diamonds. At least people won't have to kill themselves to dig them up.

    At 11,  Damon and Cylin and headed out for their exercise class. I sat and worked on the blog until my computer battery died.  I stood up and -wow!- my back, my back.  It hurt almost as much as it did the first night it happened.

    I lay on the sofa and read the NY Times Book Review Section. Finally, August got up, and I asked for help.  He got me a roller from the corner of the living room and the tennis ball from my bed.  He didn't know where the Advil was.  I had to wait until Damon and Cylin got home.

    The moment they walked in, I said, "Advil," right after I said, "Hi." Damon told August where to find it.  I took three.  I continued rolling around on the tennis ball while August ate his breakfast and watched a news show about the impeachment, not a hard topic to find on the TV these days.

    Damon and Cylin went down to sit in the hot tub.  I walked down the steps to that area but stayed flat on one of the poolside sofas.  Getting into a bathing suit was too much for this back. We chatted away. 

    Damon and August went off to play tennis; Cylin went up to take a shower and do her own thing.  I watched more Fosse/Verdon and rolled around on the floor, dealing with my back.

    When they came home, Damon put the finishing touches on his chicken soup with noodles.  The soup hit the spot, and I had a serious yen for the noodles. 

    August went upstairs to do some homework. He was called down to play a few rounds of Rummikub.  This was quite a game. I took to toning in objection. For those who don't know, my lungs rival Donna Summer's; I can hold a note for quite a while. 

    I have noticed that my behavior feels different without Mike around.  I was able to do what I wanted when we were alone together.  He even thought I was funny and challenging- in a good way.  But, he didn't like me to be too 'raucous,' outspoken, or confrontational when we were with others.  I don't know if Damon and /or Cylin notice the difference, but I do.  Very interesting.  I don't think I ever realized how I toned myself down.  I don't look back and feel sad about it.  I learned some self-control and discernment through Mike's eyes.  He was a sensitive person; he just had a different set of criteria than I did. It's all good. But now that he's gone, I need other people to play with, therefore, the behavioral changes.

 

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Musings;

    Brooks says in Bobos Paradise than the current intellectual elite thinks about morals but only in a practical way: things should be good for them or the earth.  I don't hear him talk about what good for other people. It's all about personal growth, which seems only to be measured by impact on self and not others. It's moral but only in terms of it being healthy for self and the environment.  He is saying there is no relevance for God in this picture.

    What is the role of God in our lives? Do we worship God for his sake or ours?  If the moral question is," What have you done for God today?" in the sense of satisfying His need to be worshipped, that doesn't make a lot of sense to me. 

    I'm open to there being a God; I'm also open to there not being a God. If God needs our constant attention and praise, I don't get the point. How would we become better people by just praising God? 

            

    I think it's reasonable to say that man needs to feel someone is in control, so it's either him or God. Since man's being in control of everything is a losing proposition, better by far to assign the job to some unknown force.  Humanity goes whacky when we believe we have unlimited power.  Absolute power corrupts absolutely; better to entrust that power to some abstract unknown and hope and pray that it is a force for good.  No, assume that it is a force for good, and everything has its season.

    So once we get humanity to stop believing it can be in the driver's seat, we're off to a good start.  Mind, this does not mean that God doesn't do great harm.  It just means we're not the ones doing it to ourselves or others.  When we do it to ourselves or others, it hurts so much more.  Give us a good hurricane rather than an excellent holocaust.

    Since I have many Bobo traits,  I combine religion and practicality; I believe we are much better off, individually and collectively, if there is a belief in God or something that evokes moral behavior.

    There is another benefit to believing in God.  It reminds us that we have to think of others as well as ourselves. It's morality. Now there are many interpretations of morality.  People kill their kiss and kin in the name of morality.  If someone is so immoral as to bring dishonor to the family, they must be killed. Makes sense to me. Actually, no, it doesn't.  I assume there is some historic survival benefit to honor and dishonor; I don't know what it is. The question is, do we still have to follow that definition of morality?  Is it ancient value still beneficial to us individually and collectively?

    I think the big difference between Bobo's morality and religious morality is that it doesn't ask what is best for us collectively and individually. Also, that question has to be asked locally as well as globally.  Global issues are easy.  Too big to affect me! Local issues involve our parents, our siblings, our spouses, our children, our grandchildren, our friends, etc.  They are day to day interactions where we have to decide what to sacrifice.  

            Ah, that word sacrifice. There's sacrifice writ large, and there's sacrifice writ small. With every decision we make, we sacrifice something. We can't have it all. According to my sister, only two-year-olds expect two contradictory things to exist at the same time, like being in place A and place B simultaneously. Having to choose between place A and place B when we want both involves sacrifice. Something has to give.

    Do we need to believe in God to understand the needs of others as well as ourselves?  My Bobo response is: it is better for us as individuals to consider the needs of others as well as ourselves. When we do, we like ourselves more. We are happier when others are happier and at peace. When all beings are happy, healthy, and loved, we're happier. 

    Yes, some people are so embroiled with envy that the happiness of others ruins their lives.  They are a mess. There's nothing good about that for themselves as individuals or the collective.

    Does that mean that I don't think envy has a positive function? Heavens no.  Envy reminds us of something we want or need that is worthwhile pursuing if it's in range. Let's check out the serenity prayer. 

Saturday, September 28, 2019

    I stayed in bed till 10 am LA time. I made my smoothies for two days. Damon made me a fried egg, and I didn’t eat my usual breakfast, my smoothie.  

    At 1 pm, Damon, Cylin, and I went out.  The first stop was to pick up August, sitting for a practice ACT exam for four hours, where he does his tutoring for the test. Then off to get up some Chinese food. Cylin tried to make a reservation, but it was already booked. We were told that the wait time was an hour, so Cylin ordered take-out. It took about an hour to get the food, which suggests that it would have been a two-hour wait before we got to eat if we had been seated. While we waited, Damon went over to Bloomingdales to pick up a shirt he ordered, and Cylin and I went to a local coffee shop, not Starbucks. She says their brand is a little too bitter for her. 

    As we walked to get the coffee, I glanced at my reflection in the store windows.  I noticed that when I step out on my right foot, I lean forward. I don’t do that with my left foot.  When I corrected that little problem,  I saw that my gate was even.  I have been struggling with this problem for a while. I thought the problem was just with my right hip being too far forward.  Or, in a worst-case scenario, my left leg being too short, as every medical practitioner has told me, would be the case with my hip problem. Ha! The problem, well at least some of the problem, is with my right shoulder.  

    It was chow time when we got home. Well, that food was worth whatever time and money it cost.  After lunch, I took a nap. We had a 6:30 pm appointment for a sound bath. 

    The sound bath was located in a storefront on a busy street. The floor was covered in carpeting; we took off our shoes.  When the place is doing a sound bath, the rugs are not there, and it operates as a crystal shop. We got there early enough to be as far away from the street as possible to reduce noise disturbance.  

    Before the session started, this unbelievably well-built chick was walking around, showing a breathing exercise that would be the first 8 minutes of the session. Breathe in by extending the abdomen, a Buddha breath, and then the chest. Then breathe out. This was all supposed to be done through the mouth. Yuck! Also, everyone, men and women were fixated on her great body.  That flat belly and gorgeous breast went up and down with each breath.  This woman was in the wrong business.  She agitated one, and all alike; women, as they compare their bodies to hers, and men  - -- Do you need the details? 

    Then a woman stood up and presented artificially created crystals that are supposed to have some unique frequency.  The session started with eight minutes of breathing.  I did it my way: I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth slowly, rather than in and out through the mouth and fast as the gorgeous chick instructed.  I did what felt right to me.

    Then the leader of the session did a guided meditation.  Assistants went around placing crystals on our chests and abdomens.  The lady with the manufactured crystals put one in each of our upturned palms. Because my feet felt cold, I struggled to get a blanket on them without disturbing the crystals.  Of course, I had to move the one in my right hand to arrange the blanket.  Then I couldn’t find it. I called for help. Someone came over and helped me.  

    Then the sound bath started. I thought it was a tape.  Cylin told me that the leader and her mother were playing sounding bowls.  This was supposed to be a relaxing activity. For me, not so much.

    During the guided meditation, she instructed us to picture a set of balance scales into which we were supposed to distribute these bright stones to create balance. Too bad for me.  All my stones wound up in the left bowl.  That’s where all the problems with my body are, usually. (The pain I have been suffering on this trip is on my right side.)  I tried to put some in the right-hand bowl. No, go.  It looked like I was facing some darkness.  This doesn’t frighten me; I’m good exploring it.  I believe darkness is part of the human condition.  The only thing we can do is face it in ourselves, sit with it until our reaction to it is reduced to minimal proportions, so we don’t act out all over the place.  This approach has worked for me.  The idea behind the Buddhist vipassana meditation and the protocol for the healing work I have developed.         

    Eddie, one of Damon’s good friends, came over after we were home for a while to visit. I hadn’t seen him in years. I’ve known him for over twenty years; he went to Vassar with Damon. He looked much better since I saw him last, happier.  He has a new job that is light years better than his old one, and a great new apartment near where Damon lives.  Life is looking up for our Eddie.

    Damon and Cylin headed for bed after he left, but I wasn’t tired. I stayed up and watched more of Fosse/Verdon.  I kept looking for those snippets of dance mixed in with the soap opera.  At some point in the show, it is revealed that Fosse was raped by several 40-year-old stripteases in the burlesque where he was working.  In those days, his peers thought he was a lucky bastard.  The script called for him to recognize that the incident ruined his life.  I have no idea if Fosse was aware of the impact of the rape as we are today.

    My father’s cousin was ‘seduced’ at the age of 14 by a milkmaid.  He was a gorgeous man when I knew him. My dad thought that was a hoot.  The man’s life was a mess.  How did it take so long for people to figure out the damage having sex with children does. 

Friday, September 27, 2019

    Travel day. Got up; it was cold, windy, and raining.  Seems that lousy weather follows wherever I go. 

     Sidney was much better about getting into the car.  When we got to school, I had to go to the bathroom. Shivani said she would show me where the bathroom was. I knew where the key was in the classroom. Then  I followed Shivani through this labyrinth.  The preschool was housed in the empty rooms in a local high school. The bathroom was out two doors, across a courtyard, and behind a wall.  Shivani went in first into the door marked “Women.” There was another door marked, “Girls.” I tried that door; it opened.  I went in. Next thing I knew, Shivani was calling my name, telling me there was a collection of little ones waiting to get in.  Fifteen kids were standing outside with one adult.

    Hana also had to take a bathroom break.  We let her out of the car before we left the parking lot. Shivani decided she wasn’t up for anything, and we headed home.  I tried to walk Hana, but she wouldn’t have it. Shivani told me that she refuses to walk in the rain. 

    Most of the day, I was waiting to leave, anxious to get the next leg of the trip started.  Shivani drove me to the airport. I had had a wonderful time visiting her.  With her visits to me and mine to her, we are getting to know each other better.  She is relaxed and comfortable with my casual style of hosting and guesting.  I’m planning to make this west coast trip to visit family next year too. Damon and Shivani make a point of calling me regularly.  I am so lucky.  I don’t have any children of my own, but I have more support from the next generation than some people with their own kids do.  It’s a delightful surprise.

    The security process was easy.  I was asked to take my shoes off. I had to tell the security guard that I was 79, well almost.  Next, they’ll be carding me at bars.

    I flew into Burbank rather than LAX because it was a few minutes from Damon’s work. After standing at the wrong carousel, I found the right one.  I asked a man to grab my luggage. I’m good about pulling the old-lady-card and getting help. 

    I love seeing Damon.  I have known him most of his life and loved him.  Our relationship is better than ever. His dad always said that my good behavior as his step-mother would pay off one day.  I don’t know how much is my good behavior as his step-mother as he was growing up versus Damon being a good guy.  Fortunately, I enjoy his wife, Cylin.  She is kind and considerate of me and a complete hoot. Their home is a calm, loving place. Good place to be.

    We walked down to the main drag and went to a Brazilian restaurant and then got some Jeni’s ice cream.  It was okay, but probably not worth the calories.  I prefer Haagen Das vanilla chocolate chip.  Surprise!! Or, of course, Hersey’s Milk Chocolate with Almonds.  When I walked into the house, there on the kitchen counter was an extra-large king-sized bar.  Cylin had bought it for me.

    After dinner, I watched some Fosse/Verdon. The show is hard to watch because he is so unlikeable.  I wanted to have more information on their professional relationship.  I love his choreography, but this thing is a soap opera. Bah-humbug.

Thursday, September 26, 2019

    Wow! a packed day.  First off to the Day Care Center to drop off Sidney. Only, he didn't want to go? He didn't want to leave his mother? Get in the car seat? Get in the car?  Who knows.  All I can tell you is that he wrestled and squirmed to beat the band. Shivani finally wrestled him into the car seat.  I sat next to him, hoping to help him calm down.  Hana jumped in next to me.  She was kind enough to share her space. She leaned in, and we were off.  Sidney calmed down the moment he spotted a truck. A truck!  That would do it for me too.

    Shivani said this was the first time he had behaved this way and started problem-solving.  We talked about using distractions and what kind of distractions. She is a wonderful mom.  Kind, considerate, and structured, prepared to problem solve for a less confrontational approach — a delight to watch with him.  I wish I had had a mom like her. 

    Shivani and I were going to walk Hana on a beach after we dropped off Sidney, but her belly started hurting her. She was groaning in pain. She said she had to go home.  I encouraged her to stop off and find a bathroom immediately to see if she could get some relief.  She did; she didn't get any relief. She drove home, groaning the whole way.  She took some anti-nausea medication and applied a heating pad.  Then she jumped in the hot tub where heat would be applied more liberally to her whole body.

    I drove her to the doctor, her first appointment with a GI doctor.  She had been waiting for two months to see this specialist.  There are problems with doctors in SF; apparently, many have retired without selling their practices to younger practitioners.  The doctor told her that her MRI indicated that she didn't have diverticulitis, which was an earlier diagnosis.  He thought she might have a spastic colon.  He recommended some over the counter roughage solution.  This was a disappointing result.  She, we all, was hoping for something more definitive.

    We were going to go home, but she had another appointment in SF to see an acupuncturist.  She also had to stop off at a friend's house to check if a package arrived.  She realized there was no point to heading home only to turn around in half an hour.  We took care of the friend and then went to a Korean restaurant in the acupuncturist's neighborhood.  I don't think I have ever had Korean food before. There was a lot of food.  I ate some of it and enjoyed it.

    Then we drove to the acupuncturist's.  The main drag there is comparable to 5th avenue in NYC as it runs along Central Park. Gorgeous homes facing the park. Her friend lives on a side street halfway down the block from the park.  Yes, this woman was a friend as well as her acupuncturist; they had known each other since high school and remained in touch.  

    While Shivani was at her appointment, I walked around the block.  I gave no thought to my back; it didn't bother me at all.  As I walked, I experienced a small twinge. It reminded me that I was still vulnerable.  I decided not to walk too far to be on the safe side.  I walked around and up and down the block several times.  I didn't make my 6,000 steps for the day, but it was better than yesterday when I didn't even make 3,000.

    I was tired from all the excitement and the meal and went to sit in the car and nap.  I leaned the seat back and opened the window.  I had been watching too many homicide shows.  I imagined someone coming up and shooting me in the head.  I wasn't scared; it was just an image that came to mind. I was reasonably sure it wouldn't happen.  These are only the images that are floating around in my head and come to the surface easily.  I need to watch something else.

    When we got home, I went to sit out on the deck and work on either the blog or the book.  I notice that the sun sails which hung over the deck seemed low.  There was a strong wind; I thought the material had gotten stretched out a bit. Then I saw that one of the steel poles had been bent.  While some of the attachments are to steel poles, others are to her house.  I was concerned that there would be damage.  Shivani came out.  She was able to detach two of them with ease; we folded them up.  The third sun sail was too taut, and it was difficult to open the clip and disconnect it.  She let it go and went inside. She had a business call to make at 3.  

    While I was sitting outside, the wind picked up more.  I told Shivani we had to get the third one down.  I had tried to do it myself but didn't have the strength.  She got off the phone and helped me take down the third one. 

    At 5 pm, two friends came over; each brought their two kids with them.  Shivani served everyone dinner. These are all young women with young children. Their talk was about daycare, school, children's yoga, etc. There wasn't any way I could participate, but I could listen. I don't know if I would find it all interesting daily, but for now, it was a way to learn about a world I don't participate in, and it was fun.

    After dinner, I did the dishes. For those of you who don't know, I LOVE doing dishes.   Mike loved to cook; I loved to do dishes.  It was a marriage made in heaven. 

    After the two ladies and their respective broods left, Shivani bathed Sidney, dressed him in his jammies, and settled into the sofa to read him three books. As was the case last night, I held the phone, so his dad could see him, and he could see his dad.  Shivani asked me if I wanted to help put him to bed.  I went in, but it was clear that my presence, a break in the routine, was agitating him.  I back off quickly before his agitation grew.

    I went to the living room, ran several blog entries through Grammarly, and posted them through email. My eyes were closing.

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Musings:

    I have frequently said the thing I miss most about Mike is loving him and being loved by him, someone who smiled whenever he saw me, made it clear he was happy I was in his life. 

    Shivani is a young woman who already has had another serious relationship since her husband, Dave, died.  (Yes, two widows no waiting.)  She pointed out that loving and being loved was possible with another person, but that never replaced the one lost.

    I came up with the analogy; all the Bach in the world will not replace the total absence of Beethoven's music in the life of someone who loves Beethoven.  We love each person differently; we experience each person individually.  

    While Mike might be replaceable in the sense that there might be someone I can love and be loved by, how do I replace 45 years of refining a good relationship and making it better. I don't completely dismiss the idea that there might be someone I can spend my last years with, but I'm sure not looking at this point.  I had the role model of my mother, who lost her husband, my father, at the age of 52 and spent the next 46 years living quite happily alone. One of my problems, aside from not feeling a need for a Mike replacement, is that I am terrified of dating; I always found it scary.

  

Wednesday, September 25, 2019

    When I woke up, I heard Shivani and Sidney playing around.  I smiled - until I heard Shivani saying she was so tired. I jumped out of bed to see if I could be of assistance.  I was somewhat of a distraction but not total relief.  I figured out that she might not be feeling that well because of the antibiotic she got yesterday.

    Sidney had requested oatmeal for breakfast. Two bites later, he was done. Shivani dressed him for school, and off we went. I got to see his school. After we dropped him off, Shivani, Hanna, and I headed for a different beach than yesterday. Here, the waves were rougher.  I saw no one sitting on the beach; even the shore was rockier.  There was a designated path for walking. It was pretty crowded with people biking, walking, and dogs, lots of dogs.

    My back was acting up again big time. I chose not to continue with Shivani and Hana. I walked a short distance and turned back. Looking back toward the mountains, there was a golf club bracketed by a nature preserve on the ocean side and mountains on the far side. There was a mist hanging over it, creating a Japanese painting scene that competed with the ocean view for the title of spectacular.

    I found a cement walkway closer to the ocean.  I walked back and forth on a short strip so I would be visible to Shivani when she came back to the path leading to the parking area.  I also did some half-moon stretches using the guard rail.  That helped me a lot. Wow! 

    We had stopped off at a yoga studio on the way to the beach, which offers 60-minute Bikram classes.  There was a ballet bar in the class; that part was okay. I decided against going, concerned it might make my back worst instead of better. At home, I can rely on the teachers and other students to help me; they haul me up off the floor and drive me home when necessary.  I feel very cared for and safe.  

    When we got home, I went to sit outside on the deck.  Shivani joined me for a while. She found it too hot, and she went inside.  She went to a yoga class while I stayed home and worked on the book, the blog, and listened to some City Homicide on Amazon. 

    The cleaners arrived, literally, 3 of them. I stayed out on the deck, and they had free rein. When they were done, one stuck her head out and said goodbye.

    Shivani came home. She continued working inside while I worked outside.  I loved being out on the deck. 

    I got to use the same bathroom Sidney used, the one with the full tub. The first night I noticed a lot of standing water between the tub and the toilet.  Shivani and I cleaned it up, and then there was more standing water.  We were both concerned there was a leak.  She called a plumber before she left for her yoga class.  I went to the bathroom while she was out and noticed no water on the floor between the toilet and the tub.  I texted her, so she could cancel the plumber if she wanted to.  She decided against it.  I asked her if there were any other plumbing problems they could work on if the ‘leak’ mysteriously disappeared.  

    I was outside when the plumber came. Shivani joined us and told me that the ‘leak’ had been caused by some child adapting contraption she had put on the bathroom sink faucet so it would be easier for Sidney to use.  Her other problem was also a minor one.  The guy didn’t charge her anything. I still don’t understand how that contraption caused the water on the floor.  I never saw water accumulate on the sink behind the faucet and overflow on the floor. 

    At two pm, Shivani and I headed out to the Farmer’s Market about 15 minutes away.  It was a great time to be there; it’s a small market, and it wasn’t too crowded.  It is also a very yuppy market; all upscale produce beautifully displayed.  I had no idea there were that many varieties of tomatoes and squashes. Of course, I know beans about food in general.  Shivani, on the other hand, loves to cook.  She considers Mike a significant influence on her.

    We went back home. Shivani went off for another yoga class. I took a shower, went back out on the deck, and did MELT.  Shivani had a roller. It wasn’t a MELT roller, soft, but a hard one.  Good enough.  I find that my back problems originate in the area just under my armpits.  When I experiment, I find that’s where the trouble arises. 

    Brenna, Sidney’s nanny, had come home with him from physical therapy.  He was a preemie and received some help with his development.  He looks fine now.  The kid doesn’t stop moving.  He was crying his eyes out and couldn’t be consoled. Shivani is excellent with him; she stays calm and works to resolve the problem.  She asked him if he was hungry, tired, angry, etc.  I noticed that he stopped crying when she asked if he was hungry.  She proposed feeding him some yogurt.  That had an immediate calming effect. Shivani said he comes home extra tired on those days he has physical therapy.  I know I can get pretty grouchy when I’m super tired.  It must be hard for those little ones.

    I got a text from Kathrin saying she would pick up my car from the garage that afternoon. Could I please send her my credit card information?  I was pretty sure I had given it to the garage already.  I called her to tell her so.  We had a long talk, mostly about her thoughts and efforts on getting her visa extended.  If she can’t, she has to be on a plane to Bogota, Columbia, on October 11.  Given the current fixation with illegal immigrants, I encourage her to be on that plane unless she has all her paperwork in order and in her hot little hand.  Of course, I don’t know how it works. ,2019

    She told me about a friend of hers who was suffering from some sort a reprieve of an old eating disorder in response to stress. Someone recommended this psychiatrist.  She contacted the woman and was told that her treatment cost $25,000 a month. Really? Sounds like a scam to me.  I would expect a guarantee of a cure at a cost that or the promise of a full refund. 

    Shivani made the salmon we bought at the Farmer’s Market with a stewed cherry tomato and onion topping called salmon with a tomato vinaigrette. Yum!  The salmon came from Denmark.  I bought a piece of salmon in San Francisco that was caught in Denmark.  Faust anyone? It may have been worth the deal with the devil; it was that delicious.

    Shivani has a bedtime routine with Sidney.  She reads three books to him on the sofa in the living room. Then he goes to bed, and she reads one more. This sets him up for bedtime, and there is almost no fuss about going to bed.  

            Shivani is remarkable in other ways.  She is separated from Sidney’s father.  There were problems in this process. Nonetheless, every night he is on FaceTime while she reads the books to him on the sofa. When Sidney is placed in his crib, she props up the phone until she is ready to leave the room.  She respects how important the father’s role is in a child’s life.  

    Then to bed.  When I was a child, my mother would usher us to bed, saying, “To bed, to bed, who has one, who has none must also go to bed.” Only she said in German. Sorry, I don’t write German. About ten years ago, while visiting a cousin in Germany, I quoted my mother when it was time for all of us to go to bed.  My German cousin was horrified. She said my mother would never say such a thing. Huh? The literal translation doesn’t quite catch the meaning.  It means who has someone to go to bed with has to go to bed, and who has no one must also go to bed. I told Dorothy. She laughed and said it sounded exactly like something our mother would say.  

 

Tuesday, September 24, 2019

    Jean called while I was still in bed.  I finally got up around nine after a good night's sleep.

Shivani and Sidney were gone.  I had promised to do the dishes.  I was emptying the dishwasher when the door opened, and Shivani and Hanna, her dog, entered. She had told me that she was going to work. She decided to work from home because she wasn't feeling well and had a doctor's appointment a little later in the day.  I spent the morning washing dishes and making my Juice Plus smoothie. 

    Shivani encouraged me to sit outside on this huge deck she had built along with landscaping the garden.  I moved my morning soup and my phone out to the deck, came back into the house, and grabbed my computer. 

    I called Jean back. She calls regularly. She wanted information on my smoothie.  Her triglycerides are too high, she needs to consume more protein.  We shared medical information on the family. She asked me to send pictures of Sam.  I checked my phone; I had already sent her a text with the video I took of Sam and me. Jean has only started using text messages recently. We're all Luddites. I had to have Mowg set up the Lyft app on my phone. Thank God.  I love this process. I get in; the price is fixed ahead of time. When we arrive, I get out; I don't have to deal with paying the driver.  Later on, I get a text which makes tipping easy.

    I sat outside on the deck and worked on the blog. At three o'clock, I set out to the post office a mile away to mail stuff to Dorothy that I had meant to pass off to her when I saw her in Seattle at Karin's house. It included letters my parents had received in 1940.  Many are in German, but I'm pretty sure they are all letters of congratulations on my birth.  I also sent my mother's 100-year-old bible, which she got on her confirmation. There's a dedication on the front page dated 1918; she was fifteen. 

    When I got back from the post office, Shivani and I headed for the beach to meet up with Sidney and his nanny, who picked him up at his pre-school.  Only a few brave people swim in these waters; they are cold.  A few 50-year-old surfers out there, and some other mothers with their preschoolers playing in the sand and getting their feet wet.  I sat there the whole time taking in the view: good-sized waves rolling in,  and the cliffs overlooking the ocean to my left. 

    Shivani, Hanna, her dog, and I went home in one car. Brenna, the nanny, and Sidney went home in her car.  Brenna bathed Sidney; Shivani fed him dinner while she ate. I was hungry and had the salad with chicken Shivani made for me that morning. She had also bought some sweets at a local bakery. 

    She went into her bedroom, stating her intention to go to sleep.  I stayed in the living room, working on revising and revising and revising Chapter 1 on my book. God, I'm getting sick and tired of working on that chapter.  I still thought it wasn't right.  The information in this chapter better belongs in another section of the book. 

    I delayed getting up from my seat because I didn't want to take a shower. I am slow at adapting to new routines unless it's a crisis. I did just fine in Oahu when Mike was in the hospital.  The focus was on him and getting things done for him.  My comfort slipped my mind.  I got into the shower with my shoes on to rinse the sand off from the beach.  I went to bed. It was all good. It's not like I had worked in a coal mine.

Monday, September 23, 2019

    I had set my alarm for 7:30 am to be sure that I was dressed and packed by 9 am so David could carry my suitcase up the stairs to the driveway where he put it in the garage.  He gave me the garage door opener so I could get it out when the Lyft driver arrived.

    I carried everything of theirs and mine over to the house except the suitcase that I left on the bed for David.  After David went to work, Karin came downstairs, still not dressed for work. She was running late. She said she could do that periodically, especially when she wasn't feeling well.    

    I settled in at the dining room table with my soup to do some work on my computer, just the updates.  I was freezing; it was cold in the house, particularly after I drank some cold water.  

    I was all packed up and ready to go at 3 pm when my alarm went off.  I ordered a Lyft. Then I called him to tell him to pull into the driveway on the side street instead of the front of the house, which is only used for delivering packages. 

    It took much longer 45 minutes to get to the airport instead of 30.  Delta has this email check-in.  I ordered the boarding pass for my phone; unfortunately, I had no idea how to access it. Fortunately, I had no problems getting a paper one from the kiosk. I had my walking sticks out, but I wasn't using them.  I hate to think about how I must've looked; I had two attendants ask me if I wanted a wheelchair.  I took it.

            It was a good thing I did.  The security line was long and slow.  Besides not making it on time, I think it would have been hard to stand that long.  While my back is much better, it is still not 100%.  I didn't feel I could count on it to hold on me up as I snaked through the line.  To boot, when I got to the gate, I discovered that the flight was at 5:03 pm, not 5:30.  I got a sweet at Starbucks and had a short wait before boarding. My seatmate helped me put my luggage in the overhead bin. Damon had ordered comfort seats for me.  I would never have done that for myself.  He is sweet. 

    When I arrived at the San Francisco airport, I ordered a Lyft.  The airport parking lot has been reconfigured to accommodate the rideshare business. The driver had an unusual name.  When I asked him the origin,  he told me it was a Spanish translation of a Hebrew name.  I asked him if he was Sephardic.  He had no idea what I was talking about.  He wasn't Jewish. 

    He told me he was writing a script; I told him I was writing a book.  He asked me for the plot. I told him my book was about how to teach reading. He told me that he had an auditory processing problem.  When we arrived at Shivani's house, I did the basic steps of BrainManagementSkills; I showed him where the auditory working memory while standing in her driveway.  Given his difficulty following my instructions, I suspect there were other problems galore. What I had to offer wasn't going to fix much of anything.

    Shivani fed me some dinner, including a cupcake from Whole Foods. Then I went to bed.  This was a bed I had never shared with Mike.  We slept once in her house, but it was one night in her bed after leaving her at a vacation house of her friend's on the Russian River.  Mike and I caught an airplane home the next day.

Sunday, September 22, 2019

    When I woke up around 8 am, I texted David to see what was going on in the house.  Karin was in bed.  She wasn't feeling well and planning to go to Urgent Care; Sam was fever-free but still had a runny nose; David asked me to come over and help him with Sam. He wasn't feeling well himself, and Sam was squirmy.  

    Yeah, I had a chance to hold Sam.  He is delicious as I thought he would be- if somewhat squirmy.  David intended to keep him up a while longer, so he slept better when he went down for his nap. I walked him back and forth, back and forth, and made appropriately distracting noises.  Sam seemed okay with me, but he remained restless.

    Finally, David took him up to Karin to feed him, and then he went down for his nap.  David joined Karin in bed.  I was left alone.  No problem.  I always have writing to do.  Maybe, at this rate, I will be up to date before I leave Seattle.  I also have been working on the book.  I have found a significant problem in Chapter 1 and have been working on revising a section to fit into the context instead of reading like an aside. 

    David and Karin had some thoughts about taking in the Seattle Aquarium today, but neither was feeling that well.  Remarkably, they both had problems different than the baby.  The baby had a bad cold, which resulted in a fever; Karin had mastitis; David had inhaled a cleaning product and was having some difficulty breathing. Ah, and then I added to the mix.  My back gave out.  I couldn't stand or walk without being in agony. They decided their house was cursed for this period. Karin's mother, Dorothy, was going to come out to spend time with me while the kids were at work.  She started this ball of sickness rolling; she came down with a terrible cold and canceled her trip. 

    I had spent most of the day reading Brook's "Bobos in Paradise." He is a wonderful writer.  I thoroughly enjoy reading him, particularly this book. I fell asleep.  When I woke up and tried to stand up, that's when that back pain hit.  Standing up was agony. I managed to make it over to the dining room table for dinner.

    After dinner, I went to make my smoothie for tomorrow's breakfast. Oh, boy. What a cockup.  As I poured the Oat Milk into the blender, it flooded out over the counter.  I screamed.  David and Karin came running down the stairs.  While I leaned on the counter to relieve my back, the two kids cleaned up the mess.  I thought I had cleaned the blender, and it was ready for use. David came along, thought it was dirty, took it apart, and put it disassembled on the counter.  David insisted that he did what any reasonable person would do.  I accept not being normal, okay.  I told him that he was entitled to set the rules in his house.  I suggested he post a sign for guests.  What a mess! They were under enough stress. Didn't need this added on. Didn't need me at all with everyone being sick.  When I'm sick, I want to close the cave door and only see my very nearest and dearest.  

    After dinner, the kids spent their time with Sam, bathing him, feeding him, and putting him to bed.  They carried my clean clothes and other miscellaneous stuff I had over at their house to the Bnb.   I watched TV until 11 because I wasn't tired.  I spent the time rolling on a hard roller and using the tennis ball for massage.  The release point was on the outside of my right calf.  Huh? Even after I turned the lights out, I had trouble sleeping. That sense of pounding in my chest is not so much my heart as the feeling of blood coursing through my veins.

Saturday, September 21, 2019

 

    I woke up around 7:30 and stayed in bed till 8:30.  I showered and headed over to the house after texting Karin.  She never answered.  I assumed she was sleeping.  When I got over there, it was just David, telling me to keep my voice down because everyone was asleep.  I got to work writing and having my morning soup. 

    I finally took a walk.  I usually do  Bikram and 6,000 steps a day. I am way off my mark while traveling. The hills in Seattle are a challenge. I used my walking poles while I was here in case I found myself rolling down a hill.  I called Dorothy while I walked.  She was doing better. At least she's not in bed all the time. Dorothy and I talked about the state of the world. We always fall into that topic.  I make some comment about the human condition.  However, I want to make it clear; I am not a pessimist about the human state.  I think we are pulled both ways, in our concern for others and our concern for ourselves, at all times. 

    I found a Catholic church, St. Joseph's.  There was a group standing in the doorway. Most of the women were wearing black dresses. Because they were fancy, I assumed it was going to be a wedding instead of a funeral.  I used the bathroom, sat in a pew, and did the rosary.  It was good to have something familiar. 

    Like a  10-year-old runaway, I came home when I was hungry. I had some bread and cheese and some of Karin's birthday cake.  Too much buttercream, at least it was good buttercream.

    David, Karin, and I had dinner together. Pork, a great salad, and some bread. This is the most time I've spent with them.  They were apologetic about not being able to spend more time with me.  I miss Mike in this context, but otherwise, I'm fine.  My purpose for the visit is to develop relationships with my family not visiting the city.  While I wind up spending less time face to face, I had gotten to know them better than I would have under normal circumstances when they had their hosting faces on. They hopefully also feel that they have gotten to know me better.

  The need to pay attention to me is different under this stress than if they had been okay.  They would have been feeling they had to take care of me, entertain me.  All that had been dropped.  Stress can be helpful.  The only remaining question: did I dodge the illness bullet?  Can I go on with my travels, or should I don a face mask and board a plane for Hawaii from Seattle?

______-______-_______

Musings:

 

    Someone compared my theories to EST and Scientology.  What they share is a belief that we can clear out the worst of our neuroses. What they don't share is the same objective.  I haven't read anything about either process for a while, but as I remember it, the goal of their work was success, basically getting what you want.  

    The goal of my work, as I see it, is getting what is best for myself and others, not necessarily what I think I want.  Also, I don't see my wellbeing as independent of the wellbeing of others. I believe they are linked.

    The other difference is the process.  I think both EST and Scientology use bullying tactics. The very person who compared my thinking to theirs said that they pursue you once they know you're interested.  Come on. I do the exact opposite.  I want the client to be in control of their course.  And I don't know what's best for people.  All I can do to help them is a slow unpeeling to heal old wounds.  Old wounds create detours.

Friday, September 20, 2019

    Karin's 35th birthday.  

    I texted her at work and asked for the code to get into the main house.  I was sitting there enjoying my morning soup and rereading Chapter 1 of my book when David came into the house.  He had just dropped Sam off at daycare, come home to shower, and go off to work.  He said he came home at 10:30 last night.  Truth is I didn't hear him come in despite having difficulty falling asleep.

    I'm on these Chinese herbs for my hot flashes.  They are stimulating, and sometimes I struggle to fall asleep.  Fortunately, I know meditation techniques to calm myself enough to knock myself out.  If I have to choose between hot flashes and insomnia, I prefer hot flashes.  Sleeplessness is the worst for me.

    After I had written for a while and finished my morning soup, I got dressed and ready to go to the Frye Museum, which Dorothy recommended.  I prepared to call for a Lyft. 

            No one uses the front entrance of their house.  There is a steep set of stairs from the street up to the front door.  The entrance that is used is technically the back door. It is accessed through the driveway, which is around the corner from the front of the house. I figured it would be too difficult to get a pick up from Lyft at the house, so I walked to the main drag and called from there. Easy peas.

    The Frye is a small museum with an odd collection.  The traveling exhibition wasn't open until the next day, but the permanent collection was available. I walked through the gallery and thought, huh? I thought most of the pictures looked amateur. There was something wrong with so many of them.  The trip there wound up being more of an intellectual challenge than an aesthetic treat.  I spent my time figuring out what was wrong with these pictures.

       Since I didn't have the traveling exhibit to look at, I concentrated on the pictures in the permanent exhibition.  I walked through the small gallery three times and stood looked at the pictures from varying angles, hoping I would see something that I had missed.  Why would these pictures be in a museum?

            When I spoke to Dorothy after I got home, she expressed the same opinion, which she had initially not shared with me.  She was expecting a special exhibit to be open.  She says those are good. When she went into the gallery with the permanent collection, she laughed. She thought they were terrible as I did.

    These were the pictures the Frye family had collected.  They even had an art expert to advise them. When they died, they had this charming small museum built to house their collection.  As Dorothy said, if the Fryes hadn't provided the space, no other museum would have displayed them.

    I found a number that were reasonably good and even took pictures of them.  It was a little like a treasure hunt, finding gold among the dross.  I concluded that most of the pictures lacked a clear focal point; either there wasn't one, or there was too much included. The other problem is that many of these paintings didn't flow. A good painting guides your eye over the surface by its lines.  These paintings were static. The coloration was simplistic and the subject matter rendered uninteresting.  Dorothy said the subject of the paintings was kitschy.  I think all subject matter can be interesting. Most of these painters managed to make these images boring.

    Before I left, I had a bit to eat in the museum cafeteria, a bowl of minestrone, and three slices of good Italian bread.   I also stopped in the gift shop to buy Karin a birthday card.  I found one with a lineup of cats sitting in a row of boxes, with someone sitting at the piano behind them.  The implication was that the pianist controlled the cats' calls.   This was a perfect card.  Mike and I had our rendition of the Happy Birthday song, inspired by Mike's total inability to carry a tune. We caterwauled our way through the lyrics.  It was fun. It became our tradition. People look forward to it- not.

    I overheard one of the waiters speak to a customer about the history of the English language. Naturally, I piped up. While I would hardly call myself a linguist, I have an abiding interest in the subject. He mentioned something I know: how the gh spelling slipped into English orthography.  It was the Dutch typesetters who couldn't imagine a language without that spelling in it.  

    Then I went off to find a CVS.  I wanted to make sure my hyperness wasn't due to high blood pressure.  My blood pressure had always been good until I spent five weeks in Oahu with Mike in the hospital before he died.  My blood pressure went up to 160/95.  I discovered this when Mike's first wife, Jean, visited him, bringing her blood pressure monitor.  When I tried it, I was duly shocked.  I called my internist immediately, and she prescribed blood pressure medication.  I was on four pills a day and couldn't bring it down to normal. 

    When I got home, I continued the medication but less.  I was taking two pills a day. One evening I missed; the next day, it was 136/85. Not terrible, but not great either.  Then I started taking my blood pressure daily and keeping a record. I was generally under 130/80.  I could maintain that with one pill a day.  But now I am having this strange sensation of blood pounding, which is keeping me up at night. I was concerned that my blood pressure was up again. 

    Before I found a drugstore with a blood pressure monitor, Judy called.  I was starting to get worried about her.  I had called her several times yesterday but hadn't heard from her.   Thank God, she is okay; she had her phone turned off.  I told her of my concern.  When I took my blood pressure, it was 125/75 shortly after I sat down. I retook it, and it dropped to 118/73.  I think I'm going to have to rethink my medication regime.  I don't want it to drop too low. While I'm traveling, I'll stay on one pill a day. I called Judy back to give her the news.

    While I was waiting for my Lyft to return home, Karin texted me to tell me she was sick.  She thought it was an ear infection and not Sam's flu. Her doctor corrected her; it's Sam's flu.  She said now she understands why he was moaning all the time.  When she took her temperature, she had 103.5, an impressive temp for an adult. Some birthday!

    Since I can't imagine that I will avoid getting sick, I texted Shivani and Damon to warn them.  I may have to go home to Hawaii from Seattle, so I don't get anyone else sick along the way. Damon told me that August, his sixteen-year-old son, was already sick. 

    Dorothy called me and asked me to bring a flask of cold water to Karin, who was lying in bed. I did that and returned to the Bnb, a fantastic separate unit, to do some more writing. After a while, poor Karin knocked on my door. She had to go pick up Sam and the food she ordered for dinner. I offered to do both; she turned me down. David wouldn't be home until 7. It wasn't much of a birthday celebration.  So glad I'm not the one who introduced this mayhem into their lives. They live on overdrive as it is.

    After she came home with the baby and the food, we spent some time together before David got home at 7.  After the Tylenol wore off, her temperature was 103.6. They spent some time together clearing Sam's nasal passages so he could eat. There's this contraption now for doing it.  First, you flush the nasal passage with saline, then you stick a tube down the baby's nose and suck.  No, you don't suck the phlegm into your mouth. It's pretty yucky even with that precaution, but the baby feels so much better. When the baby feels better, so do they. 

    I went over to the Bnb and watched some TV. I had trouble falling asleep again.  I got up to check my pulse to see if it was running fast.  It wasn't.  I think it is that I miss Mike. While I have known the people I am visiting for years, in some cases all their lives, I am with people I don't know well. It's stressful to be outside my routine and my environment. Mike was my portable home base.  When I rested in his arms, I knew I was okay just as I was; no more effort was necessary.  He didn't so much protect me, except from my mom, as he reassured me that I was okay just the way I was.  Nothing else was necessary. The good news is I got lots of work done on the book.

    When I checked my email, there was an email from JJ, the Bikram teacher, who was on the mainland for the summer.  He was asking if I was okay because he hadn't seen me in class.  He asked if I needed anything.  How lucky am I that I live in an environment where people would reach out like that??!!!

            

 

Thursday, September 19, 2019

    I woke up around seven and stayed in bed till about 8:30 am.  I heard someone drive off.  A car pulled up a while later, and David knocked on my door to ask if I needed anything.  They had arranged for a babysitter for Sam, their six-month-old baby, while they were out.  I went into the main house to be introduced.  David took out a gallon of Oat milk for me and the blender to make my smoothie.   Then he went off to work.

    It was good to get back to my usual eating routine.  I do love routine as my base. I also like some variety, but not as much as some. I know that I will have to include more into my life now. 

    Dorothy called.  She had a miserable cold. She was going to come out and spend time with me here but had to cancel.  She was in bed with a strong need for sleep and was glad she hadn't come out.  I had thought that if I wasn't traveling on from here, I could have taken care of Sam myself.  Watching the twenty-year-old babysitter deal with this baby, I don't know if I could have.  I don't have the strength anymore. Dorothy made me feel better and said that it would be a challenge for her too. I don't feel quite so bad.  The only problem is, I still haven't gotten to hold Sam. I do make faces at him, and he laughs.  

    I worked on updating the blog and sending a few out.  Then I went for a walk.  I managed to get 4,000 steps in where yesterday I only did 2,000 in total for the day.  I do love the plant growth on the mainland.  Here in Seattle, the style is the English garden: different plants randomly stuck in the ground next to each other. This creates a juxtaposition of a variety of leaf patterns.  Love that look! I'm wondering if I can do more of this in Hawaii.  Buy something and randomly stick it in the ground. Just see what happens — worth a try.

    I went out with David's sweatshirt on under a jacket, wearing socks with crocs. I suspect I looked homeless.  The hills here are steep; the one to the side of their house is worse than Hawaii's hills.  I took my walking sticks to give me more support.  I was somewhat concerned about falling and being left on the ground.  I took my phone with me to call a Lyft if I did fall and needed help.  Most people, along the way, said hello to me. There was one woman who stared when she saw I was wearing a Yale sweatshirt.  I don't know if that weighs more in favor of my being homeless or not. 

    When I came home, I did some more work on the blog.  Then, time for my afternoon nap. Karin and I had dinner alone. Sam was in bed, and David wasn't home from work yet. Wow! She is one good cook.  Her food was delicious.  I am eating well on my journey. 

    Karin went to bed right after dinner. She was exhausted and had to be at work by 8:30 for conferences. I stayed in their house rather than going over to the Bnb space because it was more comfortable typing at their dining room table. Then I went to bed. 

    I had difficulty falling asleep.  I was worried about David being out so late.  I logically assumed that they had been in touch with each other, and Karin knew he was all right, but I wasn't sure about it in my heart of hearts. I find myself fearful for these kids, all three.  Usually, I can anticipate the worst-case scenario without feeling fear. I suspect it's the genetic connection.  Although, I had similar feelings for Damon even though there was none of that there.          

Wednesday, September 18, 2019

 

    Travel day: Portland to Seattle.  Mowg arranged to borrow Lilith’s car and drive Yvette to the airport and then me to the train station. We arrived around 10:30 am for a noon departure.  The time wouldn’t have been a problem if the train station hadn’t been so cold.  It was built on the model of the Grand Central train station in Manhattan: high ceilings, absolutely gorgeous and without heat.  There was a small food stand where I got a sandwich and a Hersey’s Milk Chocolate Bar with whole almonds.  I also found out that it was a little warmer around where the stand than in the main section of the station.  

    I had bought coach seats for a whopping $31.50, with my senior discount.  That price included a baggage check. Since I had ordered late in the day, my car was the furthest down the track.  The first car I passed was an engine.  That led me to think we were going in that direction.  I noticed all the seats were facing with their backs to that engine.  Hmm!  I don’t do well riding backward.  I thought, one good thing about being so far away from the engine if there is a crash, I should be okay.  Wouldn’t you know it, there was an engine at the other end too, and my car was right behind it. I would be on the first car out. 

    The seats were tawdry: old, worn-out leather. I wondered what business class must look like.  The seats were comfortable except that the car was cold.  My feet were freezing.  I finally emptied my briefcase and put my feet in it.  That helped a little.

    I walked down to the dining car to get some movement in.  I walked through the business class. The seats were the same, just fewer of them in the car, making the aisle somewhat wider—big whoop.

    The Seattle train station is a fantastic as the Portland.  They must all have been built at the same time.  In baggage claim, I nailed some young woman to ask how I ordered a Lyft.  Mowg had made sure my account was set up with my current credit card, but I forgot to ask him how to order it. She was a newlywed traveling with her husband on their honeymoon.  How great is that? Starting a new life together.  Ah, I remember it well.

    I didn’t see the Lyft driver at first. Poor guy, he was a badly overweight fellow with back problems sitting in his car for 18 hours a day.  Yikes!  I suggested some exercises he could do while he drove to help his back. The trip to Karin and David’s house was easy.  

    They have an additional 500 sq. building on their property, which they use as an air Bnb and visiting relatives.   In Hawaii, it would be called an ohana.  Karin had sent me the combination for the lock.  I was able to let myself in. It is elegant.  A lot better than my Howard Johnson room.

    I saw Karin’s car parked in the driveway.  I texted her but didn’t call because I knew that Sam, their six-month-old son, was sick.  If she was able to sleep for a few minutes, great. I hadn’t brought my suitcase to the room because it involved in getting it over some steps.  Too much for me.  I texted Karin to get it when she had a chance.  Then there was a knock at my door, and there was David, who had come home and figured out who that suitcase belonged to and brought it down to me.

    I went into the main house.  We had takeout Thai food. That was delicious. The baby is incredible.  He is a doll even when he is sick.  At his worst, he never slips into bad baby mode.

Nonetheless, Karin and David were stressed listening to their son, making distressed noises they were not used to. They did a great job working together to solve childcare problems: who would take which shift during the night and how they were going to provide childcare for him the next day, given that they had to go to work.  They were both so deliciously tender with this baby.  He is the best. I would love to hold him. I am afraid to. I hope I don’t catch this cold.  I don’t want to spread it up and down the west coast.

    After dinner, I retired to my separate quarters,  unpacked, watched some TV, and went to bed. 

______-_______-________

Musings;

 

A conversation I had with God after watching a scene on TV in which adult males were bullying some people:

    Betty: God, why did you design us this way?

    God: I designed you for survival for a set of circumstances which no longer exist.  . . . .   Ever heard of the law of unintended consequences?

    And then I sent messengers down to earth to try to teach you guys how to deal with your impulses in a world you were not designed for.  Do you listen?  Not so much.  I try, but that’s what free will is about.  Sorry, it’s up to you guys if you’re going to make a mess of the world you are living in.  I can’t stop you.

Tuesday, September 17, 2019

 

    I got up late this morning.  Good thing I have Bikram every morning; otherwise, I would probably never get out of bed. I stayed put long after I woke up.  I sent all three, Yvette, Mowgli, and Lilith, individual texts asking them to tell me when they were up.

    Yvette was the first to contact me, letting me know she was awake. I still had to shower.  When I got out, Yvette had sent a text saying she was freezing and had to shower to warm up.  Then she came over and up to my room to check out my toilet and cut my toenails.  She sat down on the toilet.  The woman is 5’10’; her knees were way above her hips. The toenail job used to be Mike’s; now, it has fallen to Yvette.  

    After my pedicure, we headed off to the same restaurant we went to yesterday with Mowg and Lilith.  I had the same order, two eggs sunny side up and toast, but today I order a salad.  I ate the eggs first; I couldn’t finish the salad and had it packed up to go.  I had a wonderful time with Yvette alone. 

    Yvette and I walked over to Mowg and Lilith’s house.  On the way, we passed a house with two large tubs with ripe tomato plants sitting between the curb and the sidewalk. As Yvette and I were admiring them, the woman of the house opened her front door and told us to take as many as well like.  We grabbed a handful.

    When we arrived at the house, Mowg was at work, but Lilith was preparing to cook a meal.  She was delighted about the tomatoes.  She didn’t have enough to do what she had planned; now, she did.

    She delayed the cooking because Yvette had some chores and needed Mowg to drive her.  First stop, off to pick up the Chinese herbs that our Hawaiian acupuncturist had run out off.  She graduated from a school in Chinese medicine in Portland. Perfect. She sent in a prescription for both of us.  We’ll have to pay her when we get to Hawaii.  Ah, methinks she makes a percentage when she sells it — Fair’s fair. 

    Then we went to Yvette’s hairdresser/ friend.  I met her when she came to Hawaii several years ago and stayed at our house.  She had copies of pictures she took of Yvette mounted for display. 

    Yvette and I ran back to the car through the Portland rain. Yvette had a yen for a pumpkin-something injected with something.  The first stop was Starbucks. They were out of the something for the injection, and she came out emptyhanded- off to the next stop.  The yen was too big. 

    She had success at the next stop at Fred Something.  Yvette had three drinks in hand. Two Pumpkin something for Mowg and herself, something for Lilith, and a box of chocolate chip cookies for moi.

    When we got back to the house, Lilith had prepared food.  OMG! It was delicious and filling.  We sat around and talked while Yvette slept with her head on Lilith’s lap.  Mowg and Lilith are interested in exploring ideas.  I love doing that.  I left around 6 pm.  Mowg drove Lilith to the 7/11 and then me to the motel.  A very satisfying day.  

_______-________-_______

 

Musings:

    Mowg and I talked about someone who had been raised to be selfish.  Her mother taught her to always look out for herself.  How’s this for a definition of selfishness: Someone who always thinks all situations with other humans are win/lose situations; a win/win is inconceivable.      

    I don’t run into many people who can be described as selfish in that sense. But we are all vulnerable to ego-centricity, where we define the world by our needs instead of striving to understand the people we deal with on their terms.  That’s the hard one.  

Monday, September 16, 2019

  

    When I woke up in the motel, the first thing I noticed was the flat screen tv had fallen off the wall and was lying askew on the desk.  I never heard it fall.  I called the front desk to report the fallen TV and to ask how to turn on the shower water.  They said, “Pull the knob.”  I had done that to no avail.  I finally got in the tub and pulled; the angle improved my chances. Success!

    Yvette, Mowg, and Lilith walked over the motel, which is around the corner from their house.  We walked one more block and went to a local restaurant for breakfast. The waitresses were a treat. One was a woman in her late 50s that brought joy to her job.  The food was fine.

    We talked about Mike during breakfast. I had a quiet cry while everyone else sat quietly. Again, I find I don’t think I’m sad, but then tears overwhelm me. Sorrow comes from some inner source. Surprise!

    When I got back to the motel, I asked if I could have a room with a higher toilet.  (The TV was irrelevant.  I watched my Amazon shows on my computer.)  All their toilets were the same size.  They are not a handicapped facility. Because they don’t have an elevator, they can’t accommodate people with mobility problems. They are a Wyndham hotel, and these were the toilets they provided. All the rooms were the same. 

    I went up to the room, napped, read, and I sent out the blog entries I had worked on during the flight.  I got eight done. I was still behind.   I only finished up to September 8th.

    Yvette, Lilith, and Mowg went into town.  Mowg had to spend some time at work.  They picked me up from around 5 pm, and we headed out to Erika and Mark’s house for dinner.  Brenda and her boyfriend, Scott, were going to be there too. I hadn’t seen Erika, Mark or Brenda for 25 years.  Looking at myself through their eyes, I realized how much I must have aged.  The twenty-five years between 54 and 79 are a dramatic, as dramatic as the difference between 15 and 35, but not as dramatic as between 20 and 45.  When my mom was in her 90s, she told me that the rate of degeneration excels with age.  She compared it to the rapid pace of growth which happens at the beginning of life.  

    It was good to see Brenda and Erika again and see they’re doing well.  There were 8 of us all together, 7 Bunces and their spouses/partners, and me.  I have been an unofficial family member in the past, but there was a disruption.  I enjoyed the conversation. 

    I also enjoyed rolling around on a hard roller. I had been in agony since I got off the airplane, my back, my hip, my neck. Oy vey!  Mowgli did a little massage; that didn’t help. Doing MELT on this hard roll worked, I discovered that the problem started on the back of my head.  I didn’t feel pain there until I rolled my head on the hard roll.  

    We had to leave the gathering early because Lilith had the 8:30 to 12:30 shift at the airport. Then Mowgli drove us home.  I listened to some more TV on my computer, wrote a few notes on about the day on the blog, and went to sleep.

________- _______-________

 

Musings;

 

I hate the expression, “Just be a human being and not a human doing.” What the hell does that mean?  How do you be without doing? 

    I got some insight into what other people may mean by this expression. Nonetheless, I think it is close to meaningless.  How do you ‘be’ without ‘doing.” 

    If I’m sitting in nature – which is not in my yard where I have to do- I am.  Well, at least I’m not thinking about doing something.  However, I am still doing.  I am observing. If I am sitting in my yard, I may allow myself a moment of “am,” but as I looked around, I think of what I have to do.     

    This state of ‘being’ versus ‘doing’ does not happen to me in yoga, where I hear the expression the most.  There I am observing my body carefully, very carefully. In yoga or when meditating, I am doing. They both require a lot of effort.