Mike's death; Betty's life...

Monday, March 2, 2026

Thursday, June 30, 2022

I woke up early after a good deep sleep. Since I couldn’t go back to sleep, I lay in bed and meditated. I experienced surges of shock. Hated it. I only experienced this when meditating while lying down. If I meditate sitting up, I don’t feel those shock waves. I’d never named them before. Today, I identified them as how I felt whenever my mother called my name after years and years of attacks. I could allow the feeling to sink deeper into my body—a little progress.

At nine am, I had my telephone session with Shelly. I went to the back lanai because Scott was within earshot. I knew I had nothing bad to say about him, Yvette, and Josh. On the contrary, things have been getting much better. I had only good things to say about all three of them. It would feel differently if I knew he would hear what I had to say about myself. I worked on those shock waves.

I started by releasing anything negative about my hatred for these sensations. There wasn’t much response. Then I released anything negative about my love for these sensations. That led me to my fear of being without them. The surges are energizing. The opposite is a numbness, a passivity that frightens me. I imagine standing in the middle of the road while a truck barrels toward me. Scary. It was somewhat the way I felt on the hydrocodone after the surgery. I described the state of mind as passively suicidal. I didn’t actively want to die. I had no thoughts of killing myself. I didn’t care about anything. I was happy to lie there. If I died, I died. That would be okay too. I concluded I had to make my peace with that passive state before I could let go of what was left of the fear state.

Damon called. I had sent him a copy of an email between me and someone I had a legal relationship with. It was all good news. While I was on, I told him about the work I did three weeks ago, which released a historic level of fear and immediately impacted my speaking voice. He said, yes, I sounded calmer. I don’t know how much calmer I was, but my voice no longer held that lingering level of fear. Yay! It only took me sixty years of therapy to arrive at this point. Better late than never. Now, to finish off the job. My goal is not to clear all the shock waves; I just get to the point where I don’t respond negatively. I was at that point with the hot flashes I still suffered from. I barely noticed them. When they first started, that was not the case. They felt like anxiety attacks.

At 10:30, I had the M & W sisters. Both wanted to work on the Gating Game. The difference in their work is striking. Going-into-second grade M makes wild guesses. Her choices often make no sense semantically or syntactically. She would even ignore that information if cued with the first letter and the number of letters in the word. I used a story she had written to ensure a degree of familiarity with the text. Whatever her problems, she liked the activity. I suspected it would make a difference in her comprehension as she became more skilled at using context to figure out the next word.

Going-into-sixth grade W was a horse of a different color. She liked the activity because “it makes me think.” Wow! I had fun working with both of them using this exercise. I would set it up as they get better, so I have to figure out the next word while they give the clues.

For now, the exercise was good for me because it was challenging my auditory recall. I had to remember the sentence as I guided M & W through it. Giving cues is mentally demanding. It was hard for me to hold on to the exact words of the sentence simultaneously. I developed memory tricks. I repeated the sentence to myself, touching a finger for each word. It helped to cue me. While the trick helped, I still wasn’t confident in my memory.

I contacted Mama K, reminding her to set up a five-minute session for Twin E. She was out at the time. I told her to call when she was in. She never did.

I had an appointment with Jana. We talked a bit about her student. He was making toilet references, and she lectured him on its inappropriateness. I thought it was great until I discovered he wasn’t using it to enhance his learning but to upset her. That’s a horse of a different color. That’s just plain nasty. Now the kid is six. We can cut him some slack. However, this is something he does with others regularly. This isn’t just bad for those he irritates; it’s not good for him. This is not a good personality character to cultivate.

Yvette came up in the late evening with two pairs of support hose from Long’s, one large and one extra-large. She measured my calf and tried the large. She couldn’t get that on for love nor money. She got the extra-large on. Scott assured me he would keep his phone ringer on all night in case the socks bothered me. I wouldn’t have been able to get them off myself. I still couldn’t reach my feet. I couldn’t before the surgery. So far, my progress has been a tie-draw. I was no worse off, but I wasn’t better off either.

I finally watched The Bad Guys, Damon’s movie. He wanted me to watch It on the biggest screen available. I had to figure out how to hook up my computer to the TV in the library. Scott had the right cord for the TV and my computer.

Wednesday, June 29, 2022

I slept well for the first part of the night. Around three, I was wide awake. All the naps had caught up with me. That would be good. I wasn't anxious. I didn't need as much sleep because I was well on the road to healing. I did have a problem with my leg throbbing. I overdid it yesterday. However, I could walk without the aid of a walker or stick with ease. I used the walker only to train muscles to work correctly and ensure proper alignment. If I let muscle memory dominate, I'd return to my old bad habits.

At 9:30, I had Mama K's crew. I started with Twin E. We continued working on memory. She remembered there as where. Close, but no cigar. Close did count. She got a rhyming word. That means there was some auditory recall. That was way better than having her identify the word as was.

Today I introduced a new exercise. First, I asked E if she knew she had memory problems. Yes. Did she remember what she did yesterday? Yes. She went to the beach. What did she do? She swam and wore goggles. Why did she wear goggles? So she could see underwater. What did she see? Fish. What were they doing? Swimming with the rocks. (So we have a language problem too.) What color were the fish? Silver and blue. Could she see them in her mind? No. When she looked, all she saw was black. She just remembered them. Ah!!! Could she just remember seeing the word there? Yes. And she spelled it correctly. So I will stop talking about visual or auditory recall with this girl. I will just talk about remembering. Since she could do it with the image of the fish, I tried to piggyback on that to have her remember words. That is a leap. The two memories use different parts of the brain and are vastly different operations. Remembering the fish requires using recalling concrete objects. Remember that there makes the word /there/ means connecting two abstract symbols. Let's see if this works. She did somewhat better. I asked her mom if I could work with her for five minutes daily. I wanted to reinforce this process.

With Twin A, I reinforced automatic processing. I told her to make a picture of the word's letters in her head, ask her mind' for the name of the word, and then listen and wait. She heard the word. She said she remembered. Her mind didn't tell her the word. Okay. Whatever works. When she could accept that her 'mind' might be different than her concept of her, she referred to it as 'he.' I told her it was her mind, so it was a girl too. She did better. We went through Carpenter's second story. We will repeat this passage until she can read it fluently.

Next, I worked with third-grade-going-into-fourth K. I asked him if he wanted to work on handwriting or comprehension. He chose handwriting. I asked him if his teacher had complained about his handwriting. No. I saw last time that he wrote quickly and his handwriting was legible. It wasn't all perfectly formed; the vertical sizing was off. It also wasn't gorgeous. My first goal when teaching handwriting is comfort. The second goal is to have it be legible. The third is speed. Having it look pretty is last. I asked him if he was still interested. He said no. Let's work on comprehension.

I chose a slightly more advanced passage than where we had been. K sailed through that. I would choose a more advanced passage for our next session. I wanted to get him reading on a fourth-grade level by the end of the summer.

I walked Elsa myself this evening. Katie's advice about using the muscles on the outside of my left thigh instead of the inside made all the difference. The gain in strength is pronounced. I had no trouble walking her. I made it down to Judy's and back without discomfort in the hip area.

Scott walked in with a whole pizza. Yvette had bought two, one for her and Josh and one for Scott and me. Two slices were my max.

Because Katie recommended it, I wore support hose at night. Yvette brought up a pair she had. When I saw them, I recognized I had two like that in my drawer. We tried them on me once. They had a tourniquet effect and hurt. Yvette proposed to buy a more relaxed pair of support hose at Long's the next day when she was in town.

Tuesday, June 28, 2022

My second PT appointment was this morning at 7:30 am. I walked with a walking stick while Katie watched. She saw that I reverted to favoring my right leg as before the surgery. She said I didn’t do that when I was using the walker. She held my hips in neutral while I worked on using my body symmetrically.

Today I asked Katie which muscles she had been concerned about and why. Before the surgery, she told me she thought I wouldn’t be happy with the hip replacement. The adductors on my left leg were super tight because I turned that leg in and overused those muscles. If I had a posterior approach hip replacement, it would favor a turned-out position and put great stress on those muscles. As it was, she anticipated those muscles would pull my leg into internal rotation and cause problems with the anterior approach I got. She asked if those muscles were bothering me. No, they weren’t. But I had made great strides in loosening them over the last year with my work with the PTs and the acupuncturist. I had a much greater range of motion.

Katie showed me how I avoided using the upper thigh muscles of my left leg when walking. She gave me some exercises. It wasn’t the number of exercises I did or how vigorously I did them; I needed to use the correct muscles. Katie expanded my exercises, so I engaged those upper thigh muscles more. They have been underused for most of my life, at least since I was a teen. This was going to be a big change.

The only concern Katie had was my inability to raise my left leg in the air when lying down. I could easily raise my right one; I can’t get my left leg off the ground. Those thigh muscles are that weak. I have my work cut out for me.

I took a short nap when I got home. My phone beeped. It was a text from M & W’s mother. “Good morning, Betty. Just double-checking on tutoring today. Thx.” OMG! I forgot about this completely. I apologized, saying I had a precious hairdresser appointment. I thought I had forgotten to log the appointment in my calendar. When I checked, I saw I had posted it. I usually check my calendar every morning and set alarms to remind me. My best guess is that I knew three appointments in a row, two being PT and a haircut, would be too much for me. Still, ow!

At 10 am, Elsa and I drove up to Paulette’s to get more Kangen water. Paulette knew I was coming and had filled bottles sitting in the garage. I called out to her. She came around from the side of the house. She had been helping Judy dye her hair in the laundry sink. We talked for a few minutes. My alarm went off. I had to leave, drop off Elsa and the water, and get to my 11 am haircut appointment with Randee.

I arrived a few minutes early for my haircut. I ducked into the deli next door for a small container of their Swedish potato salad. It reminds me of the German potato salad my mother and grandmother made. Hmmm! It has more vinegar and less mayonnaise than the American one.

It’s always nice to see Randee. She loves working on my hair. I let her do whatever she wants. If I don’t like it, what the hey; it will all grow back. In the meantime, I always have a good cut that lasts and lasts. Her haircuts last so long that I often get compliments on the days right before my next one.

Once home, I finished getting the day’s public blog posted and completed the day’s Wordle puzzle. Once they were finished, I ate some delicious food a friend sent over via B and went down for a nap. While I felt great yesterday and the day before, I felt foggy again today. Everything was too much.

At three, I signed up for the Step Up Tutoring community-building meeting led by Ethan. Two other people signed on. Ethan wasn’t one of them. One woman said she wanted some ideas on how to help her student. She was one of the people who signed up for my office hours yesterday. She had to study and couldn’t make it. I answered her question today. Her student read words well but had poor comprehension skills. I turned her on to asking detailed questions about single sentences. She had to leave after half an hour. The other participant dropped out earlier. This had no meaning for her. I emailed Daniela the form I discussed with her. She thanked me; she thought this would be helpful. I stayed on for a while longer. Ethan never showed. I hoped he was okay.

I watched more of Unforgotten. I watched the program during the day because I was anxious to know the outcome. This show is so well written and acted. While watching it, I got Deja Vu flashes. Snippets of the show would be familiar. However, I didn’t remember anything about the main plot line or the outcome. There are advantages to growing old. I got to watch good shows over and over as if I was seeing them for the first time.

Monday, June 27, 2022

Another good night's sleep. Yay! I like this track record. I felt like my old self yesterday, energetic. I got up around 6 am after doing two rounds of my supine exercises. I'd lost half an inch off my waist. It was the way I was doing the exercises.

The post-surgical exercises target my legs and glutes only. I'd expanded the exercises to include my abs, particularly when doing the glute exercise. First, I make sure that I tighten the glutes as evenly as possible. This helps straighten out my spine. Then I press my upper arms into the mattress and tighten my abs, pulling them up under my ribs. I hold the pose as long as my glutes and leg can bear it. That's what was reducing my waistline. Of course, there was another possibility. Sleeping sixteen hours a day stretched out my body temporarily. I would find out.

I texted Mama K shortly after 8 am to remind her I wanted to work with her girls this morning. She had just woken up. She texted when the girls were ready. The first invite didn't go through.

I had Twin E first. She didn't remember the word there. How many times have we gone over it? I tried having her write it on her forearm. I had her visualize the sound of the word linking hands with the visual image of the letters, press the save button (her nose) and send it down to long-term memory. She went through the same procedure with the word was. When she reencountered one of the words, she tried the wrong one. Oh, boy. This is a memory problem. She cannot remember something she read one minute ago.

Twin A was way ahead by the standard of how far behind Twin E was. She's still at a low K level. Both girls are going into third-grade next year. Initially, it looked like E was in better shape than A. Then they switched. I have no idea what is going on. I've tried different approaches. Because I saw some actual recall mixed with conscious decoding the last time I worked with A, I introduced automaticity this time. It was hard to know what was going on. She was not self-aware of her processes.

I took a fifteen-minute nap after my session with the girls. I had an hour with the M&W sisters and then my Reading and Writing office hours afterward. When I asked first-grade M, going into second, what she wanted to work on, she chose the asking questions about one sentence at a time. The first sentence was, "The hippo is a large water and land animal." The first question in the IN THE BOOK section was, "What is a large water and land animal?" She thought for a minute and answered, "The alligator." This is a common problem. Kids with comprehension problems often think the answer should come from them instead of the text. She didn't get it when I told her the answer should come from the words in the sentence. Why isn't an alligator a good answer? It is also a large water and land animal.

I led her through an exercise in absurdity. I said, "I am twelve, have bright red hair, and am six feet tall. What did I say?" She said, "I am six feet tall . . . "Oh, boy. There was a problem. She couldn't remember what I had said. I repeated each description. This time, I had her make a picture in her mind of me at twelve, with bright red hair and six feet tall. Then she could remember the three phrases. She still had trouble understanding the difference between what I said and what she knew was true. It's a hard concept.

Fifth grade W, going into sixth, wanted to try the Gating Game. I started with a story she had written. She asked to switch to material she hadn't seen before. I selected a passage from a low fifth-grade passage nonfiction passage from Barnell Loft. I wrote the first sentence of the passage. Using just semantic cues was much too difficult. I focused on syntactical cues. The next word is the past of see; the next word is the first-person singular pronoun. She got the past of see. While she had heard of pronouns, she had no idea what the first-person singular was. I covered all the personal pronouns. She needed to learn how pronouns worked. I showed her the word she could refer to any number of females, listing any possibilities. You can only know what a 'she' refers to by finding the reference earlier in the text. While W did well with the exercise, I found it somewhat stressful.

I took another short nap before my Monday Reading & Writing Office hours. When I checked on the weekend, six people had signed up. One canceled on Sunday. There was no one there when I signed in. Then Jennie came on. She was there last week. She had a question about how to teach writing. Another tutor signed on. She still needed to meet with her student and wanted some ideas. How can I help someone prepare when I have no idea about the student? I have to think of general ideas. I was too focused on solving specific problems. The second tutor signed off. No one else signed on. Jennie had me for herself.

Her student was in fourth grade. He wanted to work on reading, which she found generally adequate. His mother wanted her to work on writing. Her student was fine generating topics. She read something he had written. I was unintelligible and agrammatic. His mother said he wrote the way he talked. Oh, boy. This kid had a big problem. Jennie thought he might be unaware that he had a problem. She was concerned about hurting him if she made it clear he had a problem. Jennie is Asian. Saying something negative to a person is a no-no. I got through to her when I showed her that if she didn't help him, he would be hurt by his teachers and his peers. He might not be able to hold a job. She was fighting for his life. She finally saw the importance of dealing with the problem head-on.

Jennie had asked him about what he had written. He argued he had written it for himself and could understand it. This was not a stupid boy, but he may be a highly defended one. I suggested she approach the writing by asking if they could rewrite it so it made sense to her, not just him. This is without judgment. "Be like a kid saying, 'I don't get it,'" Not a school marm saying, "You're wrong." She was with me for an hour and a half.

I took a long nap after that session. That was a lot for one day. I slept for three hours.

With my energy renewed, I did some cleaning in the kitchen. I love my neat, orderly counters. It took me a while to clear out all the stuff Shivani stored on them. I worked on updates, and, of course, I posted the blog this morning.

I reposted the announcement for my The Phonics Discovery System videos to homeschooling groups yesterday. So far, no joy. No one has taken the bait. My viewing numbers remained stagnant.

Sunday, June 26, 2022

I had another good night's sleep. When I got up during the night to go to the bathroom, I went back and forth between using the walking stick and the walker, depending on my leg felt. The walking stick sometimes got in my way. I almost tripped over it.

Good thing I was reading Pema Chodron's When Things Fall Apart. She doesn't mess around. She tells it like it is. We have to find peace in hopelessness. We can't go running away from that feeling. A friend has a husband who drinks. He says it's the only way he can escape boredom. Boredom is that feeling of emptiness when there is nothing you have to do or be for anyone. Sometimes that's a wonderful feeling. You're alone on a beach for two hours. No one knows where you are. No one is making demands on you. Ah! But when that's a steady diet, it doesn't feel that good.

It was not that I had nothing to do. I had the service I provided for the Step Up Tutoring program, my Reading & Writing Office hours. I play to rave reviews. I've proposed adding another hour a week. It was well-received. I have the students I still tutor, and I could add more. I have the updates and blog, although I doubt anyone depends on them for any reason. I do that more for my sake.

I have done the eye exercises Scott recommended for two days now. They made a difference. My clear vision lasted longer. My eyes didn't get as tired. I hadn't even completed all the exercises. I added one or two a day out of the nineteen total. There's a short version too. I was trying for the whole deal. They should take only twelve minutes and be done twice daily, once in the morning and once before bedtime. I hope Dorothy and Cylin have similar success. All three of us have had cataract operations. That would create a limitation to their effectiveness. I'm sure it does. There are still benefits.

I took more steps without any support today. More importantly, I felt energized. That's what I had been missing. I did some long-delayed housekeeping today. Nothing was downright filthy, but it sure needed a good wipe-down. Also, I put things away that had been sitting on the counter. It wasn't so much the cleaning that felt better; it was the vigor with which I did it. It was the first day I felt like my old self.

Saturday, June 25, 2022

Another good night’s sleep. There are more of those than the bad, pain-filled ones. It was looking good. The bad nights reminded me of the body workers’ warnings. Was this what they were talking about? I was now confident I wouldn’t be worse off than before the surgery. Well, pretty confident. I still wanted to know what they were talking about.

I only got one of my supine exercises done before I got up. I modified it somewhat. I involved more of my body and held it longer than prescribed. While that can be good, this morning, it was too much. When I got up, I felt I needed to get back on the walker instead of using the walking stick. Last night I was so optimistic about my progress that I folded up the walker for the first time since I got home.

I didn’t do much today. I published last year’s entry on the public blog and got up-to-date on the current one.

The big event for the day was a call from Damon and Cylin. Actually, it was common for him or them to call regularly. This was the most exciting event of the day.

Cylin asked if I was eating something. Yes. A thick slice of sourdough rye with unhealthy slabs of butter. Hmmm! It told them about the Sundog bakery. A hippie couple started a bakery in their home. They sold their product out of the town parking lot twice a week. Restaurants and hotels got wind of their product. Those institutions became their primary customers. They continued selling to the general public once a week on Wednesday from 1 -4 pm or until they ran out of product. That’s all, folks!

I learned about them when I bought a sandwich from a café attached to one of my rehab facilities. I asked them where they got their bread. I buy a large loaf. I throw one half in the freezer and put the other half in a baggie wrapped in a brown paper bag. It keeps that way forever.

Damon and Cylin were off to a theatrical event. It sounded like a carnival haunted house without the horror – I hoped. They were told to dress comfortably. They would experience total darkness and some tight corners. Those sounded like the worse.

There was another important event. I had been complaining about my eyesight. I have poor vision in both eyes. Because my eyes are misaligned, I have overlapping images. Glasses don’t correct this problem effectively. One of the reasons I get so tired is my eyes wear out. Scott offered me a book of eye exercises that helped him. I started doing eye stretches every twenty minutes. That alone seemed to help. I ordered two copies of the book: one for Cylin and one for Dorothy, who also complained about their eyesight. However, the two ladies and I have already had cataract surgery. We no longer control our lenses. I didn’t know if the exercises would have any effect. They couldn’t do harm. That’s good enough to make them worth trying.

Saturday it’s my Saturday shows. None were particularly satisfying this morning. One I turned off, preferring the cool jazz station on Pandora. I watched more of Unforgotten. I could see what was coming for two of the characters. They had made fatal mistakes in their earlier lives that would catch up to them and ruin their current lives. One had been a prostitute and now was a high school teacher. I was rooting for her. The other was a good man with a bad temper who killed someone. He spent the rest of his life redeeming himself. Now he was going to be outed.

Friday, June 24, 2022

I had a good night’s sleep last night; I was pain-free. I got scared when sciatica hit. I still had in mind the PT’s warning that there was something about my body that meant I wouldn’t be happy with the hip replacement. I got a little more information from one of my PTs at the last visit. It has something to do with my muscles. I hope to get more detailed information from her on my next visit.

My leg felt much better. I could get to and back from the bathroom without the walker. My leg wasn’t fully functional, but I could keep my weight on the left leg and didn’t have to overcompensate with the right. That’s what I was looking for.

I made sure I had completed two rounds of the lying down exercise before I got up for the day. I would complete the third before I went to sleep for the night.

My friend Jean called. She had a little family drama in her life. She shares her joys and sorrows with me. Love it. B does that too. There are others too, Judy and Paulette. Scott is pretty good too. The ‘kids’ in my life make me sad. They call to ‘check on me.” It makes me feel like a machine they are responsible for. There’s always an agenda. It was probably a combination of being in a parental role and just plain old. Other people their age don’t relate to me that way. Maybe the parental role thing dominates. I believe I viewed my mother as a human being when she lived with me. I wonder if it was to her satisfaction. I can imagine the kids in my life thinking I don’t have a life anymore. They don‘t read my updates. I suspect my complaints about kids are common.

Once I posted my daily blog on the public site, it was time for a two-hour nap. One of the reasons I got so tired was my failing eyesight. It was scary. So much of my life is dependent on reading and writing.

Judy called. They would drop by the food she promised the other day and forgot to deliver. I asked if she could use all the Hersey kisses and nuggets I had misordered. They were without almonds. Won’t eat them unless they have almonds. Besides preferring the taste, at least half the calories from any nugget were from almonds, not the sugar. Much better for me.

Paulette called about half an hour after Paulette had been here to drop off the food and pick up the chocolate. She ate one of the nuggets. They had almonds in them. I thought I had seen the word nougat on the foil. They must have been nuggets. My eyes were getting bad. I often make incorrect guesses because I can’t see the letters clearly.

I took a second nap for the day. Jean, my Hanai sister, called as I was waking up. We shared our healing progress. We both had operations: she had back surgery, and I had a total hip replacement. Hers was much more serious than mine, with a much longer healing curve. Today, I was twenty-two days out from the surgery and felt I could start using the walking stick instead of the walker. The leg wasn’t 100%, but it was strong enough to support me, so I didn’t shift my weight to my right leg in compensation. I planned to get back and forth between the two support systems. When I felt my leg muscles were too tired, I switched back to the walker.

In the evening, I tried several videos without satisfaction. They were either irredeemably silly or they had nasty people in them. I found Unforgotten. I had started watching it and forgotten. It was satisfying.

Thursday, June 23, 2022

I slept well for the first part of the night. Then sciatica hit. I was in pain, shifting position every fifteen minutes or so. I didn't take ibuprofen or Tylenol because my stomach was empty. I turned the light on to find Salon Pas to discover Elsa was not on the bed. Huh? That never happened unless she went to sleep with Shivani and Sidney or Yvette when they were sleeping in the library. Where was she? I went into the living room. There she was on the couch. I went back to bed. Then, I started worrying. I got up and checked if she was okay. I touched her; she moved. But was that movement a reflex of a dead body? I picked her up. She was stiff. When I put her down, and she walked away, it was the first moment I was confident she was okay. She followed me to bed and spent the rest of the night there. I covered my leg with Salon Pas and joined her. They didn't work. I used my under-the-pillow tennis ball on my back. That finally relieved the pain, and I slept.

In the morning, Scott walked Elsa. She was used to the routine now.

Rodney, the gardener, called to me. Could he use my bathroom? I ducked in first, making sure the door to Scott's room was closed. When Rodney came out, I showed him the backpack sprayer and where the vinegar was. Josh and Yvette were against any use of Round-Up. Weeding by hand took all the gardener's time. They couldn't get the rest of the gardening done. It was the first day we would try having the gardeners spray with vinegar. I had been using the 5% vinegar I bought from Costco to kill some weeds, but I couldn't get enough done. Lutz alerted me about using 30% vinegar in the mix. Rodney said you could see the leaves curl up as he sprayed. While Lutz had warned me the vinegar smell would be so bad, I should warn the neighbors when I applied it. Rodney said it only smelled for a moment as he sprayed. I noticed two empty 30% vinegar bottles. I had given him one 30% one and two 5% ones to mix, a two-to-one ratio. He said he added another gallon. He used a second 30% one. That was one potent mix. It must have killed anything it touched.

After setting up Rodney with the sprayer, I had my sessions with the M &W sisters at 9 am. We were scheduled for three sessions a week. I do a max of half-hour sessions. I don't know about the students, but half an hour is enough for me. I would rather do more sessions than longer ones. However, these girls are both doing well. I think three sessions a week is overkill.

I asked both girls how they felt about our sessions, hoping they would say they were a drag; they would much rather do something else. First-grade M, who was going into second, gave our sessions an 8 out of 10. Damn! Fifth grade W, going into 6th, gave it a 7.2 out of 10. Double damn. I don't have much of an argument to present to the parents.

With first grade M, I gave her a choice of writing a new story, continuing with the comprehension exercise, asking detailed questions about each sentence, or playing a game. She chose the game. I introduced the Gating Game. I used a story she wrote many months ago. The title was a good hint. She enjoyed the game. I wasn't as comfortable. When I started with M, she would get up and walk around whenever faced with frustration or uncertainty. Today she told me she didn't want help and dealt with not getting things right on the first try without batting an eye. I call this our most significant accomplishment. If she could do that, she had become a learner, someone open to the new and confusing.

With fifth grade W, I started the comprehension exercise, asking as many questions as possible about each sentence. She said our sessions are good "As long as I learn something new." Today, I learned how much information you can get from a single sentence." Wow!

Jean, my friend, called. I told her I had a second dream in which Mike wanted nothing more to do with me this morning. I dreamt he entered a room where I was and ignored me. Some part of my mind was still having difficulty understanding why he hadn't been in touch, why he didn't hug and kiss me anymore. Jean reminded me of how much he loved me. She saw us kiss goodbye when I dropped Mike off at the airport. Jean said she had never seen people kiss like that in real life. She could see a glow of loving energy surrounding us. It was hard to remember what we had. Did I imagine he loved me as much as I loved him? Our relationship is reduced to brief images, snapshots. Was any of it real? Jean reminds me that it was.

Dash worked on sets of sight words he confused his other tutor sent me. The objective is to strengthen his memory skills. As a side benefit, he will remember the words. I emphasize cognitive and metacognitive skills. He demonstrated good visualization of words. This was new. He worked with me again today instead of letting me work on him, remaining passive as I led him through exercises.

After this session, I napped again. I get two to three-hour naps several times a day. I did some work on the updates. I emailed the June 21 edition. I was just two days behind.

I tried to watch episode two of season eight of Endeavor only to discover it wasn't available. I watched some trivial coming-of-age story. Weak but not scary. Boy, there's a lot of crap out there.

Wednesday, June 22, 2022

I slept well for the first half of the night. Then the pain set in. I couldn’t’ take ibuprofen and Tylenol because my stomach was empty. Once I had some food in me in the morning, I took the pills when I finally remembered to. It has never been my first impulse to take medication. I need an external prompt, like someone saying, “Take something.” Not even pain is enough.

I had a session with Mama K’s crew for the first time since June 2, when I had my operation. Twin A was the more advanced. She was reading the second story in the Carpenter series before the break. Today, I started with the first story and then read the second. She was halting. I asked if she figured out each word as she read. Yes. It was time to start her on automatic processing. I began explaining the process to her. I couldn’t hold her attention. I would start the following week again. Given her resistance to unfamiliar information, it may take several sessions before I can get through a presentation on the objective and procedures for learning automatic processing. Twin E had more trouble with the reading before the break. She made it through the first story. Both girls had forgotten the word there. They have very weak memory systems. One has to wonder why.

With third grade K, I continued working on comprehension, asking detailed questions on individual sentences at several levels. He knocked my socks off. He was much improved. I also checked his handwriting. I observed his hand movement while writing. He wrote fairly quickly. His letters were easy to read, but he still had problems with the veridical orientation.

I spoke to Mama K after. Twin A had held on to what she had, but there was no improvement. Twin E had lost a little. Third-grade K made great improvement in his comprehension. Mama K reported a difference in his oral comprehension and verbal expression skills. His handwriting is trivial. I will work on a more advanced passage for comprehension. I may start with a low fourth-grade passage. He will be going into the fourth grade.

I took a three-and-a-half-hour nap after that session. I still need a lot of sleep. The PT told me this was normal after the operation. That’s good to know.

My phone rang while I napped. I was too tired to answer. I wound up being B asking if I needed anything from Costco while he was there. I texted him to get frozen broccoli if he was still there. He texted me he would share the package he had just bought. There are four packages within the larger one, two for me and two for him. When I offered to pay, he said I would pay him back when I made my next purchase.

I had my second session with Adolescent D since school ended. He spent a week traveling from Florida to California with his uncle and eight-year-old cousin. In our last session, I worked on convincing him of the need to use conscious action to learn. D had adopted the attitude that he should never have to make a conscious effort to learn. I have seen many children who do not know how to study. Their idea of studying for a spelling test is to look over the list until they can recognize the words. They have no idea how to do it. Where did I learn? From my parents, who drilled me. With D, it was something else. It was a lack of knowledge combined with the belief that having to make an effort meant he was stupid. Today, he made that effort. When I asked him to rate the session from 1-10, he gave it a 10. Yes, it’s fun to learn if you’re not sitting there like a passive, if not resistant, lump.

The other day, I apologized to the participants of my Reading & Writing Office Hours for some crack I made that could have been seen as intimidating. I thought they all stayed in the session because of it. Two of them responded to my email apology. Wow! They both assured me they understood I was joking when I told one of them, “They would be dead to me” if they cut out right when I explained something. They assured me they stayed because they found what I had to say helpful. The young woman who dropped out when she received a phone call explained that the call was from her mother. It would have been rude not to answer—her family’s Cambodian. Respect for the elders in the family is paramount. I find it curious she didn’t consider it rude to cut out on me. Usually, someone dropping out wouldn’t be a problem. However, in this case, I was answering her question.

About half an hour later, B called. Had I seen Yvette? Yes, briefly this morning. B needed a ride to town to pick up his truck. I volunteered. The only problem was it was pouring. We have had these impressive rain storms every day. If it doesn’t rain during the day, it does at night. I mean, it pours and pours. He came up with an umbrella. I had him unplug my car. Then he escorted me to the car after carrying Elsa there. She loves to go for rides. I took her along since it was just a quick there and back.

I discovered there was a Season 8 of Endeavor. Now, that was satisfying.

Tuesday, June 21, 2022

Another wonderful night's sleep. I woke early. Scott took Elsa out for a walk at 5:15. Yvette needed to walk at that hour because she had appointments early in the day. I did a round of my exercises before getting up. I was good about doing my prescribed exercises so far. My sciatica was bothering me. I was looking forward to the pain medication.

As I went about my morning business, feeding Elsa and getting my breakfast. I was addled. I had no idea why I was so confused; it was scary. When would I recover from the impact of the surgery and all the accompanying chemicals?

I started the morning with a good fifteen rounds of FreeCell. I do that when I don't feel up to anything else. It took me time to post up the daily blog post.

M & W's father called. We were still setting up a schedule for me to work with the girls over the summer. They had been on Oahu for the last two weeks because their grandfather died, and the extended family had gathered there. Their father proposed Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday mornings. It was early enough that I could have started today, but I wasn't feeling up for it. I proposed we start on Thursday.

I did the Wordle puzzle for the day. Shortly before surgery, I missed a word, album. It wasn't the first time I did that, but for the most part, I got them at least by the sixth try. That failure hit me hard. I became avoidant. It was an interesting lesson since I was dealing with that problem with adolescent D. I hadn't done much of anything immediately after the surgery. I finally started back up again. I approached it more randomly, sticking to words I knew couldn't be correct to try out letters and placement. Being playful is the key to most of life.

I drove for the first time since the surgery. It felt weird. I've gone without driving for two weeks before, but this felt different. I think I felt hungover or drunk. I had to be super vigilant. I made it there and back without incident.

The PT evaluated my progress. I learned sleeping 16 hours a day after this surgery was normal. She also reminded me to do ankle pumps to keep up my circulation and reduce swelling. Diaphragmatic breathing was also good for reducing swelling and icing, of course. She also showed me how to gently massage the thigh to move the lymph fluid, like stroking a cat.

I stopped off at Safeway on my home. I was delighted to find I wasn't exhausted after the PT session. I bought Campari tomatoes, two bags of Hersey's milk chocolate kisses with whole almonds, one jar of Better than Bullion vegetarian soup, two half-pound blocks of Irish butter on sale, and two avocados. I ate one of the avocados and one of the tomatoes the moment I got home. I was hungry.

By the time I got home, I didn't have much time to nap before my tutoring session with adolescent D. I started with the want/ went discrimination he had trouble with after asking him about his cross-country adventure. He didn't provide details, but it was clear he had a great time.

I continued working with him on his negative attitude to using conscious processes to internalize and memorize new material. I asked his mother about his tendency not to use metacognitive strategies to get things done. She said he was always that way. He may have created his own learning problems by refusing to use the learning strategies most people use. He wants everything to come without effort. If he had to make an effort, he thought it meant something was wrong with him. It evoked shame. We spent the session tackling his belief and accompanying feelings. I had no idea how I would get him to learn if we didn't break this cycle. We didn't do any work on reading.

At three pm, I joined the Community Building session with the Step Up Tutoring led by Ethan. Only three people were in attendance when I joined. It wound up they were all members of the planning group. I asked Ethan if the information I sent him on the questioning process made sense. He said yes, and he shared it with others. He recommended me to everyone he spoke to. Very flattering. I'm even impressed by how much I know and how much I have to share with others. I want to get the method into the schools, but teachers are not interested. It isn't evidence-based. They could incorporate the method a few minutes a week, and it would make a difference. It demonstrates how to figure out words on your own. Using this approach improved my reading.

Ethan asked if I had a game they could use. I thought of the Gating Game, a language program I developed. I would like help refining this as a game with a reliable point system. I used a sentence from Cylin's book, "The White House Cat,' It was out of context and would have been difficult for anyone. The three participants were a little stunned by the difficulty. I told them I had done this game with third graders but provided more context before launching them into the game. I had to leave at 3:15 to drop off Elsa at Petco for grooming.

Scott offered to drop her off and pick her up. I decided to do the drop-off myself because I thought it would be stressful enough for her to be groomed. If she had Scott drive her, which he had never done before, and drop her off, she might be scared.

I didn't think I could handle the walker and Elsa on a leash. I took a walking stick to use as a cane. My leg was killing me after that short excursion. I was surprised at how bad it was. The PT said some people stay on the walker for a month. It looked like I was going to be one of those people.

As Elsa and I approached the front door of Petco, she pooped. I didn't have a bag on me. Petco has a bag dispenser in the parking lot. A couple walked out as I stood there. I asked the young woman if she would do me a favor a get a bag. Not only did she do that, but she also stooped to pick the poop herself. I love living in Hawaii. As Elsa and I waited to be checked in, she peed on the floor.

I asked the groomer about pick-up. Scott had checked. Petco closed at 8 pm. He would make sure he got there in time to get her. When I asked the groomers, they said they go home at 6 pm. Elsa was their last for the day. I contacted Scott. He had a dinner date with a friend. It would mess up his plans. I decided I would pick her up too. I had the walker with me this time. I asked the groomer if she could take Elsa out to the car. She deposited her in the front seat.

I saw a potted plant sitting by the front door when I got home with her. I assumed someone else had ordered flowers from the florist. So far, I've had two deliveries. I would check it later to find out it was one of my neighbors around the block who learned I had surgery and wished me well. It wasn't someone I saw often. I have no idea how they learned about my surgery.

I let Elsa out of the car, unleashed. She usually goes right to the front door. She started heading that way, turned around, and ran into the yard. Any dog off a leash is a concern. I called. No response. I walked over to where I saw her run. There she was. She needed to take another poop. Good girl.

Monday, June 20, 2022

I slept like a dream. I didn’t even take any ibuprofen or Tylenol before I went to bed. I got up once during the night and found myself on the toilet without my walker. My leg was doing better. After periods of rest, I can walk a few steps without favoring the surgical leg. Progress. I was sure I could walk without a cane, but I didn’t want to risk developing harmful compensatory alignment, which would cause problems down the road. I was in no hurry.

I noticed my incision looked red at the point where the elastic of my underwear rubbed. That was a concern. I tried to arrange it so the elastic didn’t make contact. It’s a little awkward but doable.

Scott took Elsa for a nice long walk this morning at six am. While she didn’t come when called, she was completely relaxed in his arms when he picked her up. There is no way she didn’t know what he was there for.

After publishing last year’s entry for June 20 on the public blog, I went down for my first two-hour nap of the day. This capacity for sleep is a little disturbing. Granted, I had major surgery, spent two weeks on a narcotic, and needed to detox from that and all the chemicals they poured into my body during the surgery to protect me from pain. The outer edge of my left thigh was still numb. I should be glad about that. I had flashes of sensation around the incision. It didn’t feel good.

Yvette reminded me that I wanted to test drive before tomorrow when I have two appointments in town, one with the PT and one for Elsa for grooming at Petco. It felt weird being behind the wheel. My mind didn’t feel right.

Petco requires proof of vaccination at every appointment. I looked for the one I got from the vet last time. I checked every folder. No joy. I finally remembered where I put it after my last appointment. I checked the car. It wasn’t in the glove compartment with the car documents, but I did find it in the console compartment. Ah, I won’t have to get another one tomorrow.

I woke up from that nap shortly before my 11 am Reading & Writing Office hours for the Step Up Tutoring program. Four people participated today. I covered Phase I and Phase III. The session lasted for an hour and a half. Wow! What an attentive group. No one left at noon. Then I remembered that one of the participants left the meeting to answer a phone call while I was answering her specific question. I made some crack about her doing that again, quoting Randee’s comment about being dead to me. I meant it as a joke and said something to that effect, but I wondered if that was why they stayed. I promptly sent an email apologizing to them all. It certainly dulled my great feeling about my contribution to the program. I explained that I was recovering from major surgery and pain killers; my tolerance and impulse control were somewhat dented. I was not expecting to hear back from any of them.

I collapsed for a two-and-a-half-hour nap after that session. My need for sleep is impressive. The rest of the day was nothing. Some work on the updates. On the positive side, I’ve given more thought to the Phase III of The Phonics Discovery System video. I had to explain how to teach spelling using this approach. Today, I covered spelling in greater detail and got more clarity.

Judy called around 8 pm. “Hey, your gate is closed. We’re out here trying to deliver food to you.” The gate was closed? Scott explained. Yvette requested it. Someone from work was involved with an abusive boyfriend. Somehow Yvette and Scott got into the situation. The boyfriend made some threatening comments. Yvette’s address is posted on the Internet. She wanted the gate closed as a precaution.

Sunday, June 19, 2022

I had some trouble falling asleep last night. All the sleep during the day was catching up with me. I took no ibuprofen or Tylenol last night before I went to bed. My leg felt good then, and I decided to risk it. I did fine during the night. I woke up at 5 am and decided to get up after doing one round of my lying-down exercises. I got up and sat in the chair in my bedroom to meditate. Besides being agitated about something; I had no idea what; sitting put pressure on my leg and made me quite uncomfortable.

While I was meditating, the rain started. It started slowly and built and built. It was one of those bucket downpours we were seeing more of. It rained so hard it overflowed the gutters. Then it would ease off. Then the next wave would come. Around 8 am, it stopped, and the sun came out.

I was starving. I hadn't eaten much for dinner the night before, just some apple slices. I made three scrambled eggs, two slices of buttered, toasted sourdough rye, a glass of homemade lemonade, and Hersey milk chocolate nuggets with whole almonds.

I discovered half a Zabar's Everything bagel in a baggy in my fridge. I have no idea who left it there. I eat only half a bagel at a time and return the other half to the freezer. I don't put it in the fridge. I finally opened the package of lox I bought before Shivani arrived. I figured that stuff would keep. It's highly salted and in a sealed package. I put some on my cream cheesed bagel, divided the rest into portion sizes, put them in baggies, put all the small baggies in a big one, and popped it into the freezer. Bagels are not my usual morning fare. If anything, I prefer them for dinner. But it hit the spot this morning—only one problem. I didn't have any tomatoes to put on top.

I got up at five and was down for a two-hour nap by 9. I only had six hours of sleep. I woke up with a nightmare and an old physical shock reaction that I believe is the cause of my hip problem in the first place. In the nightmare, I was sitting at the head of the bed with two other women with whom I had difficulty getting along. Mike came in, spoke to them, and ignored me. Yes, Mike and I were separated, but why didn't he even say hello? I thought maybe he had trouble with his vision. I spoke to him to ask him what was going on. He looked at me as if my very question was strange. It was almost as if he had never known me. I feel that way about him sometimes. It is hard to remember who we were; the strong memory is just that we were, and it was good.

I don't know what the shock reaction was to, maybe Mike's response to me. My right glute pulled my hips over. This response is a seventy-four-year-old habit with lots of practice. I responded that way every time my mom yelled at me. She did that a lot. I don't know what I can do to break that habit.

I called my friend Carol in Ohio. We met during my first year teaching in the Licking Heights school district after Mike, and I moved to that state. She follows my current updates. I received her second get-well card the other day. While I was on the phone with Carol, sitting at the dining room table on the screened lanai, someone came up behind me. It was Judy bearing food. She was there only to drop off the stuff. She had cars to drive for her Turo job.

I started the practice of resting my eyes eye rest every 20 minutes. I set my alarm to remind me. My vision is degenerating quickly. Letters looked blurred. It helped even after one day. I look up as high as I can and hold it for the count of ten. I do that to each side and down.

Jana texted me asking if she could consult me about notes she wrote on her first-grader student. She had done as I recommended and checked if he knew the letters of the alphabet. In reciting them, he left out the L and pronounced X as es. After some thought, I asked, "Is he from a Latino family?" Yes. It could be that he heard "el m," as in "the m," he thinks he's saying, "K, L, the M, N, etc." As for the X, he may be confused by the name of the letters. All the other letter names only use two phonemes, 'e-f,' 'g-ee,' ay-ch.' Etc. The name for X is comprised of three sounds, "e-k-s." The letter name uses three phonemes, and the letter represents two phonemes. It is the only letter that does that. The letter X represents the sound ' k-s.' Sometimes kids get things wrong because they're too smart for their own good.

It had been several days since I last saw Lutz. I texted him to check. He stopped by on his evening walk. He was fine. The rain was interfering with his evening routine.

It had rained for most of the day, with intermittent downpours.

Saturday, June 18, 2022

While I slept beautifully, I woke up in a foul mood. Yvette came up to hang up some sheets on my laundry line. She asked if she should take down some sheets I had hanging. I said, "That's okay," meaning leave them be. I'll take care of it. She understood the opposite. She came in with the sheets in a tumble and tried to fold them. I was so irritated. I told her to leave them be. I would take care of it. I had a system for folding sheets while on the line. It wasn't what I said but the irritation in my tone. God, was I ever grouchy. I easily folded the sheets using the bed for assistance. Yvette had tried to use her height, close to six feet, to fold them. That didn't work. She was dragging them on the floor.

I was still on the walker. Carrying things presented a problem. Today I dropped my computer. It landed flat on the tiled floor. We'll see how it does. Nothing showed up immediately, but there's always a possible slow burn.

I ironed two sheets today. I finished ironing one set. I was afraid to put them back in the zippered plastic bag for storage because of the high humidity. It was the rainy season, but the amount of rain verged on the ridiculous. The downpour was so intense that it overflowed the gutters. The rain bounced off the pavement. If you had stepped out into the torrent, you would have been soaked in a minute flat. It would have been the same as having a bucket of water thrown on you.

I had my first acupuncture appointment since my surgery. I'd been reluctant; I was concerned about over-stimulating the surgical leg and causing a blood clot to go on the move. I have to take baby aspirin twice a day for a month. I have been careful not to apply pressure to that leg and overstimulate it. The acupuncturist mainly worked on the right lower leg and some on the lower left. It felt okay. She applied the needles to both those areas. She listed all the issues she addressed. She must have named six. I don't remember all of them. I do remember her listing detox as one of them. I do believe that some of my constant exhaustion is due to that. Not just from the hydrocodone but from the spinal block and the propanol used to knock me silly. Possibly the ibuprofen and the Tylenol I continued to take too. In the past, if I couldn't sleep, I might take one Tylenol. That would knock me out. I wasn't used to regularly taking that and am chemically sensitive.

My appetite was returning. I was wildly hungry in the midafternoon. I scrambled three eggs, two slices of the sourdough rye from Sundog bakery, and a healthy dose of Hersey's milk chocolate nuggets with whole almonds from the stash Dorothy sent me. My appetite for chocolate was returning. That was a measure of my improved health.

Alexandra stopped by to pick up the game she brought over for Sidney and her final check. She visited for a while. I had just awakened from one of my many naps. She sat on the floor while I lay on the sofa, and we chatted. She's a bright girl interested in many things. She was a pleasure to talk to.

When I spoke to my friend Jean earlier in the day, she recommended the movie, Dreamer. It was a feel-good movie with Chris Christopherson, Kurt Russell, and Dakota Fanning, with a cameo role for Elizabeth Shue- a damn good cast. The film had too many unrealistic premises for me to enjoy it. One or two I can handle; this had five or six.

Some people object to the false premise in Bridgerton that the nobility received black people at the time of King George III and Queen Charlotte. They're concerned some people might believe it was that way. This is fiction, and it is presented as such. No one is suggesting this is a documentary. Contemporary historical dramas always have some anachronistic touches. Some I barely notice; some are more difficult to tolerate. The independence of women in the series Reign is too much. Color blind casting jars on my nerves. I have to wonder why. They cast white people as blacks in the early movies. That never bothered me. Why can I barely notice factual miscasting in one context but not another? I believe color-blind casting is good because it gives us all a chance to see people of color as people, not just people of color. if someone takes the fiction for fact, . . . . . . what can I say? I understand why people are confused when someone argues the holocaust never happened. Someone is asserting this information as the truth. That creates confusion. Fiction is fiction, a what-if twist on history.

I wasn't tired at night. I waited till 11 pm to go to bed. My bedtime is closer to 9:30 usually, but then I get up at 5:30. I kept those hours when I went to Bikram regularly. Yvette had driveway yoga three times a week. I hadn't done Bikram since Covid started. Yvette cut her classes back to two days a week, then one, and none for the past several months. Now, I stay in bed at least till 6 am, sometimes till seven, instead of getting up at five-thirty.

Friday, June 17, 2022

I think I slept through most of the night without interruption. That was rare. I woke up before 5:30 and lay in bed meditating. I would have be better off getting up and sitting in a chair for that.

Scott came to collect Elsa to take her for a walk. He and Yvette walked her two dogs with Elsa. He takes the two little ones, Little and Elsa, who look alike at first glance. Yvette takes Linear, who’s bigger than the two little ones together. Scott said Elsa ignored a little dog they passed. She only barks at bigger dogs. No, she barks at any dog she hasn’t had contact with. From Scott’s description, I knew the little dog was Coco, a dog Elsa was familiar with.

I published the June 17, 2021, update to the public blog. The numbers fluctuate between the twenties and the fifties. A large number of visitors are coming from China and now India. Huh? Has another English language teacher discovered my blog, or is this a bot at work? Then I took a nap.

B called. Did I need anything from town? He is diligent about watching out for me. He will stay on the island instead of returning to the mainland to help care for his father. His father’s second wife will be pitching in to help his current wife take care of his bedridden dad. Harmony between the various factions of the family is fantastic. I have a similar relationship with Mike’s first wife. We consider each other sisters. She is one of the bonuses from my marriage to Mike. The other major ones were Damon, his wife Cylin, their son August and Mike’s niece, Shivani, and as an extra bonus, Shivani’s son Sidney.

I washed the second set of queen sheets from guests past and finished ironing the first set I washed. Soon, I’d have all the laundry done. I still have to vacuum and wash floors. The carpets are littered with small bits of paper from Sidney’s drawing and cutting projects.

The woman who delivered the flowers earlier this week from Dorothy was back at my door. Now, I recognized her. Who was this from? My financial advisor. Wow! I texted him immediately and sent a photo. Some of the blooms and delicate greens were wilted. I sent him a photo and thanked him. I tried to arrange the display, so the wilting didn’t show. Later in the day, it occurred to me to check the water. I suspected the arrangement was fine when placed in the car for delivery. Because the container was shallow, they must have dumped most of the water. I added more. The flowers perked up. It is a lovely arrangement with two sets of greens planted in soil. I hope I can maintain them.

I called my friend Carol Zim who lives on the east coast. She and John were just leaving the house to get a sundae at a local ice cream and chocolate parlor. She said the topping was particularly good there. I spoke to both Carol and John until they got into the store. Carol took it off speaker as a courtesy to the other patrons. She described how John offered her the last of the sundae. When they got in the car, Carol put the phone back on speaker. John complained that Carol had eaten the last of the ice cream without offering him some. I participated in this family feud in a fun way. I teased John, saying he should have spoken if he wanted more after offering it to Carol. She agreed. Then John said it was their routine for him to offer her the last and her to save some for him. I inferred Carol had broken with convention. For me, it was all in good fun. I sure hope it was for them too.

Jean called to tell me about an interview she heard with the author of the Bad Guys, Aaron Blabey. He said he talked to several studios. He decided on DreamWorks because “Damon shared his vision.” It was Damon’s rapport with the guy that did it. The film is a winner. Damon is a winner. Jean said Blabey only used Damon’s first name because we all know who Damon is. I am so happy for Damie Doo’s success. (Doo is not his last name.)

I ironed the white fitted bottom sheet. Ironing the sheets on the bed is a breeze, provided the hot iron doesn’t hit the fleece blanket and melt it.

I watched Stay Sweet, Pray and Obey on Netflix, about a fundamentalist Mormon enclave with an autocratic leader they considered God’s representative on earth. They had several interesting theories. First off, theirs was the only true religion. The men made it to heaven by having three wives and producing many children. The women made it there by always being sweet and obedient to the will of their husbands. The community has been as large as 10,000 members. The show is about the legal action against the organization for sexual child abuse, forcing underage girls to have sex in general, no less with much older men they have no interest in. The advantage to a society like that is secure membership. Those who fled because of their treatment miss the companionship of their siblings and fellow wives. It sounds like the original hunter-gather groups were egalitarian. So sad that practice doesn’t continue. Instead, one leader, male as a rule, rises up and assumes total control. It usually leads to some disturbing sexual practices.

Thursday, June 16, 2022

I slept like a baby last night. Ah, back to my wonderful sleep pattern. Scott walked Elsa this morning. She wasn't too keen to go out with him. He had to grab her and get the harness on. She cooperated then and went out with him. The changed circumstances disoriented her; I was on a walker and couldn't take her out, and Scott was taking her away from me. Whenever I sat in my old-lady chair, she sat in the frame of the walker as within a forcefield.

I had an appointment with Shelly this morning. I recited my recovery adventures from my total hip replacement, including my passive suicidal feelings induced by the hydrocodone. I would lie in bed, indifferent to everything, including continued life.

I talked to Shelly about an underlying sadness, primarily because I couldn't do anything right. I spent my life pushing myself over speed bumps to get myself to do most things other than the routine, brush my teeth and wash the dishes. Even cleaning presents a challenge.

This is an old problem. My mother would never allow me to do anything. I couldn't do it correctly. She let me, actually insisted I made my bed when I came home from camp, having learned to do it correctly. I was a master of the hospital corner, also known as the army corner. Anyone born after the advent of fitted sheets has no idea what I'm talking about. Before fitted sheets, we had to fold the corners of the bottom sheets in a specific way to ensure they didn't slide all over the place. Those corners served the same function as the corners of fitted sheets do now. I loved making the bed with the hospital corners. It was a skill. I was thrilled to be allowed to do something.

My mother's constant criticism weighed on me. She had a variety of reasons for dishing it out. At the end of her life, I learned she thought this is what a good parent does for a child; criticize and never compliment. She believed it was bad for a child to hear praise from a parent. It was probably the way she was raised. Did she notice it made her feel lousy as a child? I know there is a culture of parenting that argues life is tough, and it is the parent's job to prepare the child for that life by constantly beating them down so they learn to survive it. The other extreme is the belief it's a parent's job to convince their child they can do wrong and protect them from all disappointment and pain. As with all extremes, both do harm.

Today I saw a different possibility motivating my mom's actions. She was afraid that I would be better than her. My father articulated that idea. I was twelve when he said," One day, the student surpasses the teacher." He sounded sad at the prospect. If I held his values, I would be sad too.

My sister and I were downright rude to our paternal grandfather, who sat in our home every single day for years. We lived in a twelve-story building about half a mile from where he lived. Every morning he would come to our home and sit in the living room. I remember our parents sitting us down, telling us to treat him better. One of us, probably me, asked why. My father's answer had something to do with who he had once been, having to do with being a successful businessman. I didn't question that explanation at the time. Neither did I think that was a good reason to treat him with respect in the present. It took me years to hear the values my parents were espousing. Holy jumping frogs! The old man deserved respect because he was because all humans deserve our basic courtesy in the present moment for what they are now.

Back to my mom: I could see that she would have felt threatened by me. Not because I was so amazing, but because of her insecurities and a parent's tendency to see the firstborn as "perfect," at least the second coming. With my father's training, I was his intellectual companion rather than her. (I can't recall an adult filling that role for him.) My mother sat at his feet and admired his 'knowledge' of languages, history, and the arts. I was my dad's intellectual muse. Again around the age of twelve, he told me how women were treated in ancient Greece. Wives were uninteresting chattel who attended to domestic issues. The interesting women were the temple prostitutes who were the intellectual companions of the great minds of Greece. I got the message. I'm sure my mom did too. She had to destroy me. She tried.

I don't remember the complete visualization. It had to do with confronting my mom on her hostile intent toward me in the name of self-defense and experiencing my anger at her. No, I don't think she admitted the self-defense part. She knew something was wrong with me; she could feel it. She had to make sure I changed so people didn't hate me. Her self-awareness was close to zero. It wasn't her thing.

The neighbor who went out especially to buy me my requested red raspberry jam came to visit. I put her off for a while. I didn't know her very well and felt she could be overwhelming. Indeed. She flooded me with too much information. I have another neighbor who does that. People in the neighborhood tend to avoid him. I have determined that I can tell him to back off. Once I learned he responded to boundary cues, I could enjoy him so much more. He is a wealth of knowledge, much of it interesting.

Damon called on Friday and Saturday immediately after the operation and not again for a week and a half. It made me sad. I knew he was busy. He was traveling, visiting friends, one for a destination wedding and one for a destination fiftieth birthday party. He also stopped off to see his mom.

Jean, Damon's mom, had back surgery in February. It was a major deal. She spent three weeks in a skilled care facility. Her recovery has been slow and labored. Damon and Cylin made sure that his mom and step-dad got out of the house. They went to a nearby park. Jean told me about it.

Jean described reading from a diary Damon kept when he was eight or nine. They laughed together at the entries. Jean was so happy with the visit and her wonderful son. Damon was doing well as a husband, a father, a producer at DreamWorks Animation, and an all-around human being, except for his failure to contact me directly during the last week and a half.

He argued that he knew I was okay when I confronted him on his call today. His behavior made me feel like an object to be monitored rather than a human being needing human contact. He said he contacted Shivani, my niece, who stayed with me. I argued unless he was preparing a case for my mental incompetence so he could enforce his Power of Attorney, there was no reason he couldn't have called me instead. I was perfectly capable of giving him the information about my well-being. He argued that they had sent a card, and Cylin had texted me to find out how I was. That was from all of them. Cylin did a lot; she stepped up to the plate, texted me, and bought a get-well card she had Damon and August sign.

Cylin argued on Damon's behalf. Yes, he was busy, but he could answer a text of mine about two pieces of mail I sent him. Why couldn't he also text, "How are you doing?" It must have been that question mark that put it over the top.

I wrote Cylin detailing all the little ways she kept in touch with me and how much I appreciated it, but she was no substitute for him, and he was no substitute for her.

Linguists speak of scripted stroke patterns. "Hello. How are you?" "Fine, thanks. And you." "Okay." That is a meaningless exchange. The words communicate almost nothing. We don't expect an accurate account of how the other person is. If they do launch into a precise description, it comes as a surprise. The scripted exchange is there to reinforce the connection. "I see you. I acknowledge you as someone with whom I am supposed to have this exchange, someone who is part of my social circle." It's a small thing but also a significant way of maintaining social connections. We acknowledge each other through this stroke pattern.

I finished Judy's delicious chicken soup tonight.