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

Monday, June 15, 2026

Monday, May 6, 2024

If I'm early enough, I sometimes run into Tom on my morning walks. As he turned right onto Kukuna from Holoholo, he stooped and swooped up Tripper. Tripper is a cat who winds himself between walkers' legs, tripping them. Tom didn't name him. Someone else did; we all call the cat Tripper now. Tom's routine is to pick Tripper up and deposit him a bit further down the road with a handful of food to keep him occupied while Tom gets away. He never bothers me because I walk with Elsa.

On my way to Chi Qigong this morning, I stopped at Target not just to make a quick trip to the bathroom before the session but also to buy a box of Q-tips that I couldn't get at Costco the day before. I almost walked out empty-handed again.

I asked a clerk where I could find it. "On the headers in the cosmetic section." I couldn't find it. "Oh, yes. They moved it. It's in the section beyond the barriers." They were doing some work. I checked the headers there. Nothing. I asked again. Someone pointed directly at them. Ah, success! I was beginning to think Q-Tips were not in my future.

I found both roads leading from Target to Old A closed, where the Chi Qigong class was held. There were workmen on one of the blocked roads. I asked, "How am I supposed to get to Old A?" "Go by the other roadway." "It's blocked." He promised to tell the workmen to open it. I drove back over to the Makala. The workman I spoke to was there removing the "Road Closed" sign. There was no work going on that road.

The Chi Qigong participants had started the first exercise, so it was easy to join in. Today's class was very short because Richard wasn't there to start his Hula dance warm-up exercises. When the class was over, I asked Clyde if we could do more exercises. I want an extended class.

I sat on a bench overlooking the bay for a while, enjoying the view before I went home to catch a quick nap. Then, I had a tutoring session with twenty-six-year-old S. She read Reading Roots 27. She looked down and distant. I wasn't expecting her to do well. She didn't when she started reading. I stopped her. I told her to relax in her tiredness and see what her automatic processing could do on its own. It did very well. We were both pleasantly surprised.

S still wasn't doing crossbody blending. She had one major glitch. She identified the sound of ar as /r-a/. She couldn't hold the sounds in the correct order for love or money. I push the students to work on the problem for a while. It is a golden opportunity to force the brain to change. It's hard for my students to understand the concept of brain plasticity, which is a relatively new concept.

I had a dentist appointment later in the afternoon. I dropped my cosmetic snap-on last week for an adjustment. While they covered my unattractive lower teeth, the snap-on substituted one distraction for another. My natural teeth were badly stained from years of eight cups of coffee and two packs of cigarettes a day; the new ones were whiter than the veneers on all my other teeth and reflected the light as my other teeth did not. I don't think of people noticing my teeth one way or the other in face-to-face contact. My teeth are only a problem when I make videos on Zoom. I unwittingly solved the problem with the two videos I already had on Zoom by filling the screen with images and having my image in a small box, too small to notice a detail like my teeth. Perhaps most people don't notice other people's teeth. Just those who are self-conscious about theirs, dentists and orthodontists.

The dentist thought he could solve the problem by applying a darker color to the snap-on. That was bound to do something. Currently, they were stark white. He painted them so they matched the color of the rest of my veneered teeth. That was an improvement. He didn't charge me for the service or the office visit. He said it allowed him to be creative.

Knowing I tutored, the receptionist, the dentist's sister-in-law, commented on how lucky the kids I worked with were. She talked about one of her nieces, who, at 10, continues to have learning problems. I expected her to say it would be good if I worked with her. I don't think so. The girl's mother brought her son to me. His grandmother, who had worked as the dental receptionist, told me she thought her grandson would love me. I assumed a compatibility that wasn't there. When I introduced BrainManagementSkills, he freaked out. That type of introspection was just beyond him. In addition, the girl's mother, the hygienist, talked to me about the girl's speech problems. She talked about how she and her husband would make fun of her speech problems. Oh, boy. I said nothing because I perceived a degree of blindness to the impact of that treatment that would make anything I had to say fall on offended ears. I didn't think I could help the girl. Working with her would be to deal with the negative impact of that hurtful treatment. The receptionist talked about how the girl sat alone on a rock for hours doing nothing. Hello, Houston. There's a problem!

I met with Mama K's Twins. I saw a massive difference in Twin E's word recognition as we went through the 151-175 word list. They were all holding. She got each one correct, although she still had to do conscious decoding on some words. Sometimes, she had to be reminded to start with the vowels.

I had a few bad nights. I tried to open the Tapping App to soothe myself. It said my free sessions were over, and I had to pay to get more. I emailed the company to find out when I had paid for a year's subscription but heard nothing back. I resolved to pay the annual fee for the tapping solution app again. I had no sense of time. Perhaps it had been a year since I paid for the subscription. I pressed the subscribe button. It announced I was a paid subscriber; my subscription would expire in December 2024. I guess it's not a scam.

Adolescent D announced he was doing his school assignments. Had he told his mom? "No big deal!" he'd been doing them for a while. What was a while? One week. I asked his permission to tell his mom. He said ok. I sent her a text message. I heard nothing from her. It is possible she said nothing to him. Another avoidant personality. Not my type.

Sunday, May 5, 2024

I parked on the strip in front of the church instead of one of the parking spaces in the back or on the front lawn. I proudly made my New York City parking moves to get a perfect parallel park: pull up, stop, turn the wheel, pull back, stop, and turn the wheel. All these moves get the car as close to the curb in a small space. When I got out, I found I had ripped up the grass in the strip with my wheel-turning antics. Oh, dear. I’ve seen other spots torn up like that. I always wondered what some idiot did to create that mess. Now, I know.

I gave Judy Darby’s information on the digital organ with a sounding board someone donated to a church south of us. Judy had asked me if Darby could provide the name of someone who could tune it. Darby said, “Have someone haul it to the dump!” The digital ones are replaced by newer versions within years, but Darby also gave me two names.

I stopped at Costco for four items: Q-tips, salad, a tooth-whitening kit, and a battery-powered vacuum/broomstick. I raced around, but the only item I found was the salad. The lines were short, so I checked out with one item.

This morning, I had third-grade M. Something was clearly wrong. She was distant and disengaged. I opened a window on Google and talked about it. I hadn’t shared it with her, and she had said nothing. Wow! I didn’t use Stuart Little today. She needed a greater challenge. I was surprised by her poor reading fluency when she started reading. It got better with the second passage.

I did the Gating Game with Adolescent D today. In this game, I see the passage, but he doesn’t. I reveal the following word in the passage, one letter at a time. I started giving him clues as well as letters. Some clues are unrelated to the context; they are grammatical cues or definitions like synonyms or antonyms.

Damon called while I was finishing up with D. He told me to call him back, but I knew better. I might miss him, and I love talking to him.

I wrote about the problems created when someone demands perfection from themselves. It’s a dead end. If the goal is perfection, failure is guaranteed.

We’re in trouble if we are the perfectionist or we are connected to someone who is. Whether the latter demands perfection from themselves as well as others is mostly beside the point. They are brutal to those around them. They blow up easily when things don’t go their way. They are genuinely distressed.

The perfectionist can be confused with the control freak. The control freak just wants to dominate. However, when I talked about surrendering the perfectionist stance, Adolescent D associated it with power. The perfect one had the right to dominate over others. Oh, boy! I wonder where he got that attitude from.

Saturday, May 4, 2024

I went for my morning walk early this morning and missed Dean and Nina. Dean dropped off a dozen eggs for Darby, saying they were particularly beautiful. I delivered them later, telling her what Dean said about them.

I spent some of the day in the yard, trimming the shrubs along the driveway. To cut the tops, I climbed on a three-step stool. Since the driveway is on a slope, it can be tricky. I have to place the step stool so the shrubs support both of us. If it or I tilt over, the shrub will catch us.

I got to work with the Twins today. Twin A read on a low third-grade level. Her fluency improved, and she did a good job articulating the main idea in the passage. When I asked her a detailed question, she looked up in the air rather than reread the passage. That drives me nuts. Why do the kids do that? Is it because they have a history of poor reading and figure they’ll never find the information that way? Do they think they’re supposed to know the answer?.

I meet with many of my students on Zoom. Twin A drives me nuts. She wanders around the house. Even though she is improving, she hates working with me. I don’t take it personally. She hates working on reading. I can appreciate her feelings. When I feel I can’t do an adequate job, it is painful to try, too.

Friday, May 3, 2024

This morning, I made it to the hula class Elaine told me about. I parked in the church parking lot and walked to the Ali’I Drive community center. I had been there for church events before the Grace Parish Center was built. I walked to the back. That’s where I entered for church activities. All the doors were locked. I didn’t see anyone inside. Someone came from the waterfront. I thought she was looking for the class, too. I asked her where the entrance might be. “Probably around the front.” I was anxious and didn’t say thank you. She snarled, “You’re welcome.” Oh, well.

I found the front entrance clearly visible- in front of the building. The class hadn’t started yet. Someone told me I had to sign in. When I did, I discovered I needed to sign up and pay at the Civic Center. The hula class was a course offered by the city for the kapunas (seniors). I could participate today, but I should be signed up and paid by the next class. There were about 50 people in the class, all women, Hawaiian, Filipino, and haoli, white.

The teacher gave me a shawl to tie around my hips. Many of the women wore these unattractive skirts. When I got home, I ordered one on Amazon.

The teacher taught one move – the figure eight. She often had her back to us. I followed other dancers who were familiar with the basic moves. Then, she continued leading the class in the dance Lovely Hula Hands. I got some of the moves. I certainly added to my daily steps. The dance requires the dancer to raise their arms high, sometimes above their shoulders and heads. Those moves were still a challenge for my left arm. I was only ten months out from eight hours of surgery for an elbow reconstruction and a reverse shoulder replacement. I rested my arms when it became too much and then picked it up again.

I introduced an exercise I developed with Dominik in the 1980s to Adolescent D., the objective was to keep him engaged with the decoding process. With Adolescent D, the aim is to force him to consider all the letters before concluding what the word is.

I learned something new today. When I did the exercise with Dominik, I learned that I make a guess with each letter. If I give you a seven-letter word and then reveal each letter individually, observe what your mind does. S- searching through all the words starting with S is daunting. I think my mind waits for the next letter. Then there are two letters: SP. Now that it narrows down the field, my mind throws up a bunch of words that start with SP but recognizes that none of them are long enough to fit the bill. Now there’s a third letter SPE. Again, my mind does a random search for all the possible words. A few of them reach my conscious mind. Then SPEC. Hmm! Spectacular. Too long. Spectacle. Also too long. SPECI Species??? Possible. SPECIA Ah, SPECIAL. When working with Dominik, I was astounded when I guessed the word correctly well before I had all the letters. Then, I realized that our poor readers make those guesses just as I do- a confirmed good reader. The difference is I insist I wait until I’ve seen the whole word. I don’t impulsively grab at the first word my unconscious mind serves up. I reject the initial suggestions. Our poor readers don’t.

I meet with Jana on Zoom. I met Jana through a volunteer tutoring program in LA. She asked me to mentor her. She had a question about a student she started working with. I can’t remember what she said about her problem, but I do remember I didn’t have enough information to draw a conclusion.

I asked her about a student she worked with last year. She said his problems cleared up when she started using my methods with him. That was lovely to hear.

I wondered about Campbell Scott, a lead actor in Royal Pains. He plays the very powerful, rich, and dignified Boris on Royal Pains. As it turns out, he is the son of George C. Scott and Coleen Dewhurst. How’s that for inheriting a set of acting genes?

Thursday, May 2, 2024

I scheduled an early appointment with Jean, my friend, to do the water meditation. Jean introduced it. We’ve been doing it daily ever since. We knew we would never keep it up on our own. We share when we speak. Another source of wonderful support. Each friend has their own unique contribution. I am one lucky lady.

Today, we had a limited time in the morning. I called Jean several times. No answer. Then the time expired. We miss it every once in a while.

Today, I had my appointment with Dr. Reed. It is always good to see her. I made an appointment to check a hard lump in my left armpit. I was pretty sure it wasn’t cancerous, but I appreciated a doctor’s confirmation.

It started as a sebaceous cyst thirty years ago. It became encapsulated. I rediscovered it periodically. This time, I was concerned because it was hard. By the time I had my appointment today, it was smaller. I applied MakesNoClaims (Intrasound Gel) daily, and it shrank. Another doctor once told me, “Cancer never gets smaller.” It was good to have Dr. Reed confirm my diagnosis, but she did have some concerning news for me.

“Did I notice my LDH had risen by 50 points?” No, I hadn’t noticed that. My LDH count is always high, but so is my HDH. My ratio is always good. Had I changed my diet? Yes. After my accident, when I shattered my shoulder and my elbow in a fall, had eight hours of surgery, two weeks in the hospital, and another three weeks under twenty-four-hour home care, I stopped taking my smoothy drink every morning, where I added ground flax seed to the drink. That had disappeared from my diet. Yep, that could have done it. I must find ways to include flax seed in my diet, with or without the smoothy.

I worked with twenty-six-year-old S. We worked on a new story. When I worked on one she had already read, she could use her memory to recall the words without decoding. With a new story, she had to rely on the letters alone. She had to decode. She did well except when she hit a blending problem. Again, I can’t get her to use cross-body blending. It occurred to me that maybe she wasn’t resistant because of her ego. Perhaps she was resistant because neurological irritation. Crossing the midline may be the problem. I will have to check.

Today, I arrived at Ulu Wini before the school bus arrived, delivering the children who live in the low-income housing. I got a bit of work done on the updates before the kids got there. As I was typing away, a man came by. “I’m Chantel’s husband, Josh. She talks about you, saying what a great teacher you are.” It is good to hear explicit praise. I don’t need a lot, but a sprinkling of it feels good.

Fifth-grade LY came and asked to work with me immediately. She reads with fair fluency on grade level. As we worked, it became apparent she could use some help decoding multi-syllable words. I don’t think this is taught explicitly in schools, but many kids need it. I could have used explicit instruction when I was young. My reading improved when I learned how to do it as an adult and was already a decent reader.

I had to call second-grade MI over to work with me. She benefits from my work but doesn’t initiate it. She had no idea how to determine the value of the numerals from their place, in other words, place value. After two sessions, she could consistently identify the value of a numeral up to the hundreds place. Then, we proceeded to addition without regrouping. She couldn’t count-on. That’s when you start with the large number and add-on, instead of counting from one, as in 6 + 2 (1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8) versus

(6, 7, 8). Today, we started with addition with regrouping. Not a clue: 75+ 15= 810. Back to the drawing board.

This poor girl has problems going blank when she doesn’t understand what someone is saying. Adolescent D had that problem. His was so bad I thought he should be checked for epilepsy. But it’s past now. He doesn’t do it with me anymore and reports not doing it at school.

After working for a while, I asked her if she wanted to stop. She was hesitant to answer. I think the kids think I’m setting a trap for them, and they’re supposed to answer, “No, I’d just love to continue.” I tell them it is as essential to know when you can’t take in any more information as it is to pay attention for as long as you can. Ingesting information is much like ingesting food; you can consume only so much in one sitting.

I met with 2nd grade JTHA. Wow! I saw a tremendous improvement in her reading. She took her time with each word, decoding it accurately. I can appreciate how counterintuitive it is to work slowly so you can go faster. But that’s the way it works.

Third-grade PH asked to work with me as I was packing up. I stopped to read with her. She just wanted to read to me, and she didn’t welcome any instruction.

Taisha from Provision Solar called. My under-the-roof and racks were all good and could be used to install the new 400 panels, replacing the 35-300 panels. She also said there was a change in HELCO’s return policy. Currently, the energy points I garnered expire every month. With the new policy, they would expire at the end of the year, although the percentage of return per kwh would be less. Taisha said she thought this would be the better deal. She said I could add additional panels, too. Before, La’a had told me I couldn’t do that. I was permitted to have a given number of KWHs.I would be higher than the permit allowed if I got twenty-five 400 panels to replace my 25 300.

On my evening walk tonight, Lutz commented on my improved gait.I have been pushing through more with my right leg. It means more significant involvement of my right glutes and stretch of my right psoas. I feel stronger with this small mechanical adjustment.

In the evening, I continued watching Royal Pains on Netflix and uploading my entries to Blogger.com.

Wednesday, May 1, 2024

I huggled with Elsa before I get out of bed. This routine started with me walking to the other side of the bed and massaging and kissing her. Now, I call her over to lie beside me. We spoon. I rubbed her down, and then we just lay there. It's lovely to have something in my life that tolerates affection. Elsa does more than tolerate it. She's downright promiscuous. She walks up to people we meet when walking and demands to be petted. Nina and Gail depend on it. They greet her joyfully. Elsa is like her mom, me, friendly.

Today was Cylin's birthday!! I sent her a voicemail birthday greeting. I said, "You didn't answer because you knew what was in store. Here it comes!" I sang an improvised version of the version Mike and I sang. I sound like an animal in pain, but it's fun. I think some others find it entertaining. But probably not the musically sensitive—like Judy.

Yesterday was Judy's birthday. I never got a chance to speak to her in person. Today, I asked her if she got my voicemail. She couldn't remember until I reminded her I sang to her. "Oh, yeah. I was so unbearable I turned it off after two bars." Some don't think it's funny. Oh, well. I can't win them all. Note to self: Don't sing Happy Birthday to Judy next year.

I had trouble last night dealing with my negative voice. When it takes over, it destroys me. When I woke up around 2 am, it started up. I recognize it now as an addiction. I refused to cooperate with the psychic demand. I grabbed my phone. The Tapping App was up and working again. I put on the sleep tape I like and fell back to sleep. It is so clear that I am deliberately upsetting myself. This is how I lived when I was a child. I was constantly anticipating not just criticism, but criticism with a percussive delivery. It was like being tasered every time. I have presented my mother's style to people. They all jump and say, "Don't do that to me."

I recently criticized Steve Peters's take on the relationship between the prefrontal lobes and the limbic system, identifying humanness strictly with the prefrontal lobe. From his perspective, the limbic system, the chimp brain, is not part of the human being. Nuts to that idea. However, his paradigm helped me to separate myself from the hysteria generated by my limbic system and to control it.

People set boundaries in different ways. Some couples live with domains of power. It could be that each has a domain of control and the other has veto rights. I prefer a situation where at least some of the decisions are negotiated at the moment.

I thought Mike needed more control than I did. We'd get out of the car, and I would have to hand him the keys so he was sure I didn't lose them. I don't think I ever lost the keys. But he needed that to feel better, so I gave them to him. If I treated him like he treated me, he'd take offense. I was treating him like an incompetent. I didn't react badly to his behavior toward me. I knew it was his problem, and he gave me enough love and respect in other contexts that this was a mere blip on the radar. We had a system that honored each others' boundaries, and I knew I could rely on it. We were both raised by mothers who had zero respect for our boundaries. So, being able to ask someone to stop whatever they were doing was paramount for both of us. We could express our needs and have them honored. Honoring them didn't mean giving us what we wanted; it meant treating those needs with respect.

What is the opposite of that? When someone criticizes you for wanting something the other person is uncomfortable addressing, that dishonors the need and the person. Or attacking a person's character; never do that. How's that for a simple rule. Especially don't use character assignation as a response when someone asks you for something you don't want to give. A simple no would suffice. Of course, the nay-sayer has to deal with being a bad person in their own eyes if they buy into the self-sacrifice for others paradigm. Bad paradigm.

I prefer a different paradigm. Sacrificing yourself to prove to yourself and others that you're a 'good person' is just as evil as being self-centered. All actions are selfish. Wiping yourself out inevitably backfires. Nah, I can't say that 100%. There are circumstances that demand some form of sacrifice. Usually, they're ones you have to make, or you wouldn't be able to live with yourself.

I observed some people set boundaries with broad strokes. They never put themselves in a social situation that doesn't afford a quick exit. Suppose they are in a situation where someone makes them uncomfortable. Rather than letting the person know their feelings, they completely cut them out of their life. They can't ask for what they want or say no to what they don't want except through control of the circumstances. It makes intimacy difficult.

I finally figured out Adolescent D's problem. He's a perfectionist. I spoke to him about it today. He said everyone wants to be perfect. He even saw it as a way of making oneself dominant in a social situation. I think perfectionism is a form of mental illness. Anyone who says they should be right at all times will be hoisted on their own petard.

If perfect is your goal, you will always be a failure. You'll inevitably fail when you evaluate your accomplishment by the standard of perfection. If your life goals are good enough and better, you can see a positive outcome and success. Perfectionism is always a dead end.

Remarkably, D listed a number of things he'd handed in lately that were incomplete or not perfect. He also praised himself for the poem he wrote, where the other day, he condemned the people who praised him for doing so over something that was easy. Wow! Wow! and Wow! If he can make this change, he will be home free.

Sandor stopped by. I had his name on my schedule and then forgot about it. He was coming to help me with tech problems, and I had been looking forward to his help. I didn't remember the appointment even when I heard his voice calling from the side door. He said, "Can I come in?" I actually told him to wait. I wanted to check who it was. Wow! How's that for a mental lapse? This is a new low.

However, I see my mind regaining its sharpness when doing the morning puzzles, Wordle, NY Times mini, and Connections. I've heard several times it takes at least a year to recover from anesthesia, and I had eight hours of it.

Sandor solved my problem on blogger.com. I post last year's update on blogger daily. I wound up with two blogger sites under the same name. One through Safari has close to 63,000 hits. The one through Chrome has close to 100,000. The one on Safari hasn't had a new entry since June 16, 2022, and people are still reading it. It's one or two here and there and the occasional bot where over 1,000 show up for one day and not again for six months. The numbers are high because English teachers have discovered it and require their students to read it.

The recent updates are on the Chrome site. When I paste the entry into the new post, an image window pops up and doesn't allow me to download the full text. Sandor spent half an hour to an hour trying to figure it out. He found out the problem comes from Microsoft, not Blogger.com. They tried to fix it but couldn't. Sandor found a workaround. I should post the solution on YouTube myself.

When he finished, he stayed and worked on the church bulletin. We worked together on our own in silence. I love that type of companionship. It is what I miss most about Mike.

Sunday, June 14, 2026

Tuesday, April 30, 2024

I had a good night's sleep. I had no agitation, and I slept well until 4:30 a.m. When I saw Dean and Nina on my morning walk with Elsa, they updated me on the progress of their chickens. One is definitely a rooster. They wanted to have four of those guys with the rest hens. They expect a shipment of 18 baby chicks by the end of the week. Nine of them are replacements for the ones that died. The rest are a new order. They are going to have quite a flock.

It was an Ulu Wini day. When I arrived, they warned me it was 'store day.' I assumed they meant it was a day for free food distribution. I didn't understand why this would affect my work with the kids, but ok. It wasn't free food day; it was the day the kids could pick out toys. They built up points for service. Fifth-grade Rosemita had the most points. The kids were excited, but a number were anxious to work with me.

5th grade M was sitting at the table set up for my work when I arrived. She wanted to work with a group of her friends instead of alone. I understood her desire, but the needs of the children were too diverse to make that possible. As it wound up, I could have included at least one more girl in the class. I had M read a grade-level passage and then tell me what it was about. Oh, boy. Way off. She picked a few words from the passage, and that was it. I asked her if she visualized the meaning of the words as she read. No, of course not. There are many reasons for this; being unable to visualize was not one for her. When I asked her if she could visualize her room when her mom told her to clean it, she said yes. The kids work so hard to read the words and cope with the unfamiliar vocabulary and sentence structure that they have no brain power left to focus on the meaning.

The vocabulary and sentence structure are unfamiliar for two reasons. First, English is not their parent's native language. Second, they don't hear complex language, even in their parents' native language. They would need help understanding a unique complex sentence in their language, no less in English. I worked with her on visualizing the meaning of the words in the sentence. I can do that with at least two or three students at a time.

Next, I worked with 2nd grade TC. She reported a dramatic improvement in her reading. Whereas last time she read Reading Roots 11-13, today she read 26. The text is mostly one-syllable words with a lot of repetition. Her reading was much better. She didn't once guess a word based on its first letter. She took the time to decode each word and read at a fairly good clip. Did my work really make that difference? I know I'm good, but I'm even skeptical that the difference could be from something I did. Surely, the teachers at school continued to help her. My gift is to diagnose and address the problem's root cause.

The last time I worked with third-grade SP, he was so hyper I couldn't get anything done. He was much better today. He wanted to work on a story he had read before because he could rely on memory. I pushed decoding. He could retain the sound of a phoneme as he blended. His blending skills were good. He prefers not to decode because he can't read fluently.

I find third-grade LE challenging to work with. He's defensive to the point of hostile. He will be a troubled teen and trouble for everyone else. However, his word recognition is good at a low level. He read the material at a third-grade level reasonably well, if somewhat haltingly. When I asked him what he wanted to work on, he said reading louder. I had him read one of the stories from Reading Roots on a first-grade level. His reading was smooth and loud enough. I concluded that he mumbles when he reads to the teacher at grade level because he can't read smoothly, and he's covering for his lack. He doesn't have enough practice at grade level with multi-syllabic words. I hope he comes back so I can help him overcome this minor obstacle.

I was packing up to go home when I spotted second-grade MI. She's the one I've been helping with math. I called her over. She groaned but came. I reviewed the place values. The last time I worked with her, lining up numbers for addition on the vertical confused her. We solved this problem today. Maybe I'd better say we made substantial improvement. She asked me to give her another addition problem to identify the place value of all the numerals. Then, at the end of the session, she became confused again. I hope this doesn't turn her off completely. I discovered today that she didn't know how to use counting-on. I showed her how. She could do it immediately. She may forget it just as fast. We'll see.

MI has a problem similar to the one Adolescent D used to have; she blanks out and disappears into space. He did it so frequently that I thought he should be checked for epilepsy. He denied he was frightened. MI denies it, too. Neither can handle the discomfort of not knowing what the teacher is talking about. Well, the more they absent themselves, the further behind they fall, the worse they feel. What a dilemma.

I rediscovered Royal Pains on Netflix a week ago. I saw it a while ago. I thought it was pretty silly. It's a story about rich, beautiful people living in luxury. I needed something light to counterbalance my bad moods. I enjoyed it more with each episode rather than less. I love the addition of Paige's character and the relationship between Evan and her. They look like what I understand a loving couple to be. The medical stuff is almost silly. No matter the emergency, Hank always pulls the right equipment out of his bag for the occasion or McIvers a solution. I binge on the series when feeling low.

Monday, April 29, 2024

One hell of a night. God, I felt terrible. Grief. Fear. Over-all anxiety. I think this is what Mike felt all the time. That's why he risked his health with the above-prescribed norms of anti-anxiety medication. I was concerned about it. He said he would rather be dead than live with those feelings. I understand perfectly.

This is the way I felt after my father died in March of 1956 until I left my mother's house for college in September of 1958. I didn't have one good night's sleep. Fear dominated me. I had lost my protector.

You might ask why I took her into my home at the end of her life. Good question. I have good answers. I loved my mother. She was crazy but she allowed a select few to love her, my dad, my sister and me- and she was loveable the way a young child is loveable , regardless of what they do.

Shortly after Mike and I got together, I took time off from my relationship with my mom, aware that it might be a permanent separation. I wrote her a letter telling her I had been afraid of her all my life and had tried everything else. This was my last resort.

In that letter, I also told her I dreamed of a situation where I would live communally, and she would be living there, too. I saw her sitting on a slope with children running around her.

Several months after she received the letter, my mom called to tell me she forgave me for what I said in my letter. She was old and would see me again. See the problem? Zero concern for my thoughts and feelings. Zero. I told her I wasn't ready yet. That stung. But if I hadn't done that, taking her in the last 18 years of her life would have been out of the question. Mike would never have allowed it. I would never have allowed it.

Besides impressing upon her that I was an independent agent over which she didn't have control, I did something else. In my mind, I set a limit to how much criticism or insult I would tolerate. The number was three. If she exceeded the limit, I would make an excuse to leave with plans of coming back again. I learned this from my meditation retreats. The meditation leader would say, "Start again! Start again!"

The final piece, which may have been the most important, was how Mike dealt with her behavior. On our first visit to her home, when I introduced Mike to her, there was a determining incident. I needed to nap. I went up to my old bedroom to lie down. Mike, knowing exactly what my mom would do (tear me a new one for being rude), came up to the bedroom, pulled out the desk chair, turned it to face the head of the bed, sat in it, opened a book, and read. The message was clear. My mom didn't attack me when my dad was around, and she wouldn't with Mike there. At some level, she knew it was inappropriate. She was just too damaged to control her worst impulses. Having someone who made it clear he wouldn't accept her behavior protected me and her from her worst impulses.

I didn't do gentle yoga this morning because I planned to do Turtle Chi Qigong on the beach at Old A at 8 am. I spoke to Jean, my Hanai sister, and Carol, an old friend, during my morning walk. Jean told me of the first meeting of the political discussion group she organized with a similarly inclined next-door neighbor. Eight people showed up today. The decision was to table the Israeli/Gaza situation to avoid conflict. They would start with health care.

One of the attendees at the meeting was in the healthcare business and agreed to make a presentation. Two participants were journalists, one was a Nobel Prize winner, and the others all held advanced academic degrees. This high-end retirement community is right outside Princeton. Need I say more? I was thrilled this was working out. Hopefully, they won't fall into the spirit of the zeitgeist; my way is the only way, and I'm prepared to kill or die for it. What a nightmare world we're living in!

When I got home, I called the solar warranty company. Could I send in my agreement form via email? Yes. I signed it and sent it in. It will be a good deal. It will at least cover the replacement of the old system that hasn't been working too well. I got a batch of bad panels, and ten of the twenty-five already needed replacement. It's a great deal since the panels I will be getting will be a newer variety than the ones I originally installed and were replaced with similar ones. The old ones were 300-something; the newer ones were 400-something. There's only one company currently even making 300s. I'll get another good ten years out of the new babies.

I wasn't expecting the Qigong to be good. The man who had been leading it left for six months. He and his wife are snowbirds in Hawaii. The fellow who was going to lead it didn't look like he knew what he was doing and didn't do the moves particularly well. I had a wonderful time! He did different exercises than the previous leader. The woman beside him could help him when he ran into trouble. She could have led the class. We did a few movements and repeated them sixty-six times. It was wonderful. I could get into the movements.

I got a message from twenty-six-year-old S that she was sick and couldn't meet with me this morning. I got the message before I left the beach. I took advantage of the found time and sat at a picnic bench under a tree and watched the waves for an hour.

While I sat there, I called to make a same-day appointment with our beloved Dr. Reed. The woman is a fantastic doctor and person. She is so kind and loving. She's on reduced hours now because she wants to spend more time with her new baby. It was supposed to be a same-day appointment. When she had nothing available that day, I thought I would

have to call again on another day. No, the clerk gave me an appointment for Thursday morning at 8:20.

I went to Target next. I wanted to buy a loaf of Dave's bread and a cucumber. I checked out the sales on frozen food and wound up with a $42 bill. When I went to check out, I looked at each counter, looking for Judy, who works there starting this week. She's doing much better at this job than her job at Costco as a food demo worker. There, she had to stand in one spot with little movement. On the Target checkout line, she is in constant motion. At Costco, she had to woo people to try the wares. At Target, she just enjoys her contact with people as they checkout. This is wonderful.

I went home after Target and sat down to write the above. Writing helps me. It's not what I say; it's just putting thoughts into words. I enjoy the craft when I'm not avoiding it concerned, I will never find the words.

Sunday, April 28, 2024

Elsa doesn’t have lesions anymore. Since I started using Royal Canine Ultima instead of Science Diet, her skin has been golden. I don’t have to check her for lesions anymore. Now, I just hug her and pet her. I give her a good body rub with plenty of hugs and kisses. It’s good for me, and she seems to enjoy them.

I chose Saturday for my weekly application of the renewal lotion to my eyes. My God, this stuff really works. Someone said I looked ten years younger. The wrinkles under my eyes are much less, even if it does make the black lines more visible. The applicator works with a pumping motion. I pumped and pumped. Nothing. I thought, ”I got a dud. The applicator is empty.” But, just in case, I packed it into my purse to check with Paulette when I saw her at church.

When I saw her, I told her the problem. Before I got it out of my purse, she asked, “Did you take the lid off?” Lid??? What lid?? Sure enough. I had left it on. I had a good laugh. I see differences in my mental processing that I hadn’t when I was younger. I don’t consider as many options as I once did. I don’t consider the impact of an action beyond the immediate as much. When I do, my range is less. It’s weird. I’ve been someone who makes wild connections and considers the impact to the 10th degree. No more. Well, maybe just less.

While I sat there laughing, Monica came up to say hello. She asked why I was laughing. I told her. She told me her own story. When she was in her twenties, she had a funny experience. She was filling the gas tank on her parents’ new car. She was standing with the nozzle in the car. Another car that looked like her parents’ car pulled away. She panicked, thinking he was stealing her car. We both had a good laugh.

Third-grade M was in a weird space today. She participated, but she dialed in from a remote location. I would spend several minutes showing her a video to help her understand a vocabulary word without putting the visual image on Share, and she said nothing.

There was a reference to a ‘tug,’ meaning a tugboat. I figured M wouldn’t have any idea what one was. Again, she let me ramble on, showing videos and explaining what they do. Then she said she was on one. What??!! Her dad’s job has something to do with the port in Hilo. Of course, they use tugs to help bring the boats safely to the docks. She knew more about tugs than I did.

I had a session with Adolescent D. He chose coding over reading aloud. He did all the coding independently while I just observed. The only mistake he consistently makes is in identifying the Vowel-Consonant—e (VCe) pattern. He’ll split the base word into two syllables and identify the silent e as sounded.

I asked if I could use him as a reference if I advertised my tutoring service at his school. He said, “No, thank you.” I still have never seen his face on Zoom. He is the most hidden person I have ever met. Nah, I think I know some people who are just as bad. It’s just they have a better social face.

Tuesday, June 9, 2026

Saturday, April 27, 2024

When I saw Dean this morning, I asked if there were any big logs from the Shefflera. No, only skinny branches. The tree had been cut back before. That massive growth was all suckers. Dean only got skinny branches two buckets of twigs with leaves attached. We both thought they would be bigger branches. Instead of killing off the stump, Dean suggested cutting back each year. Have to clear the area around stump so I can walk safely, get to the stump and do what I can to kill it.

I picked up the empty trash can from Darby and reloaded it immediately. I think I’m caught up. First I had to get rid of all the fronds the gardener had dumped. Now I was working on all the fronds that have fallen since they were last here.

I spent time checking out all the skin care products I bought. I have to work out a schedule of application.

When I spoke to Jean, my friend in Arizona today, she complained about a killer headache. I offered to do healing on her. I started the pullouts at her forehead. This is the first time I have done a healing since my operations on my elbow and shoulder. The sensitivity in my left hand is reduced. I couldn’t feel the energy coming out. I thought I might be because of the numbness caused by nerve damage. Then I thought to do a release from the vertebrae just below her cervical spine. Bingo! I felt a lot of energy come out and her headache was gone. My hand was just fine. Now, that was fun.

The other day, when I offered Dan my cordless electric drill for drilling the holes in the freshly cut trees to apply the Stump Out to kill the remainder of the trees. I brought my recently purchase unused cordless drill to him. I said, “I can’t get the cord out.” He said that was the charger, not the battery. I concluded they hadn’t put a battery in the package. Okay, I found the battery sitting on my counter. Duh! I expected the charger to hold the battery and didn’t recognize the charger was that little thing I plugged into it. If it had been just a cord I would have been okay. I had a good laugh.

Yvette wasn’t up for a walk this evening. She wasn’t feeling well. She suspected food poisoning. On that note: I popped a frozen dinner in the microwave then opened the frig looking for a kombucha. There I saw the fresh poke I bought at Costco on Thursday. When I opened it, the smell told me it wasn’t so fresh anymore. It was a $21 impulse buy. I knew I couldn’t eat all of it in one sitting. I figured I’d eat in over a few days and then forgot about it. I risked eating some of it. While I did, I wondered if I would be down with food poisoning. I was just too cheap to throw it out immediately. I did throw out after I ate a bit. It wasn’t going to be in better shape the next day.

Friday, April 26, 2024

Paulette and I had 11 o'clock appointments for infrared treatments at the Truffoire shop. The treatments were a free gift with our purchase of the products we bought last week. Paulette was just getting the facial, and I was getting the full body treatment plus the facial. The infrared treatment might help my recovery from my two surgeries on my left shoulder and elbow and the damage I did to my right arm when the heavy lawnmower pinned my arm to the gate as I brought it up for storage.

The machine was a sauna and an infrared machine. Instead of wearing a bathing suit, I went in with just my underpants on. The guy who took us through the process opened the machine to make some adjustments. I couldn't have cared less. When I was younger, I had nothing to hide. I had a fantastic figure. I think everyone thought I felt so free because I had a good body. Nay! I feel the same about my eighty-three-year-old body.

When the sauna/infrared treatment was finished, I got a facial. Giovani didn't give me the same treatment as Paulette because I wasn't concerned about wrinkles. He dgave her a natural collagen treatment. On me, he did the golden mask. He literally put a golden mask over my face. When it came off, Paulette was impressed.

The salesman offered us two years of supplies for $200 a month. Let's get this straight; I do a minimal amount to maintain my good looks. I bought into the program, which includes a monthly facial and refills on all the products.

Besides the six creams and lotions, I got a Jupiter space touch, the science of light, with red and blue light. The salesman commented the blue light would be good for my eczema. What?? He said I had an unusual amount of flaking skin. I had noticed it already. My skin used to be smooth. My hands still felt that way, but parts of my face, legs, and arms had rough patches. Once or twice a week, I rubbed my face, arms, and legs with Scotch-Brite non-scratch blue cleaning pads.

Giovani said the eczema is inherited. My mom's side of the family had fantastic skin. I have some of her qualities. I don't get those small wrinkles, only the deep ones. While I look good, I only look five to ten years younger than I am. When I was sixty-six, an esthetician told me my skin was dry for my age. I asked her how old she thought I was. She said forty-six. I delighted in telling her she was off by twenty years. The gap has narrowed. It will get smaller as I get older.

My paternal grandfather had good skin. My dad and his brother had acne when they were young. I did, too. My uncle had full-blown psoriasis. When my acne was over and done with in my twenties, a different type of skin eruption developed. The doctor told me I had that instead of psoriasis. So this is the second time I have been told I have some genetic skin condition. Giovani told me the problem would get worse as I got older and that blue light treatment would help.

Paulette and I had lunch afterward, as we had last week. I liked the looks of a nearby restaurant, the Kona Canoe Club. It had a great view of the water. We got one order of nachos between us. It was plenty.

I did not do reading work with Adolescent D today. He has a terrible self-destructive attitude about himself and his relationship to praise. He had problems correctly estimating his skill level. Somewhere around the two-year mark, he insisted he always could read as well as he did then. I asked if he always read that well, why didn't he? He was stumped by that question. He said, "I don't know."

D's latest issue concerns the big deal everyone is making about his poem. He feels humiliated because he's being praised for something easy to do. It is good enough that I suspected he plagiarized it off the internet. I checked. There was nothing like it. Then I concluded he used AI to help him write it. When I said that today, he took offense. "I didn't cheat!" Wow! This is the first challenging written assignment he has handed in. He is furious that everyone is making a big fuss about it. "It was easy." If it was easy, why don't you always hand in your homework? He said he was forced to complete this assignment because he had to read it out loud to his peers. I reminded him that didn't stop him before.

He had an assignment in a video class to interview someone. He announced he wouldn't do it because he had no ideas. He told me he didn't want to do it because he didn't want to be weird. How do you think telling the teacher, "No thanks," to an assignment looked?" This is a bright child. I don't think he is psychotic. Although some of the things he does makes me wonder.

He is hypersensitive to the expectations of others. His mother bought him a copy of the driver's manual so he could study for the test to get his permit. She walked into the room while he was reading it and expressed pleasure. His dad walked in just behind and also expressed pleasure. D said, "Now, you've spoiled everything," put down the manual, and never picked it up again.

Today, I drew a Venn Diagram for him. There's always an overlap in the space between what people want things for you or from you and what you want for yourself. You have to keep your focus on what you want. I asked him if he was oppositional. Some people will say no to anything anyone else suggests. Do you want to go to the beach? The answer is no, whether they do or do not. Someone else suggested it; therefore, it's out of the question.

I heard a remarkable idea on a podcast: when making a decision, choose your regret. You will always sacrifice something with each decision you make, and there will always be a possible regret. Choose your regret. There are things I have left undone. I have some regrets, but they don't haunt me.

Dan applied Stump Out to the tree stumps after cutting two trees down. He said I had to add hot water to the powder to activate it. After applying it, he said it only needed water and was about to rain. I went down to double-check. While the holes he drilled were good-sized, the powder wasn't in the holes. He just sprinkled it in the area of holes. I added hot water to what was there, but I must redo it.

Darby told me you must add killing chemicals to trees within seconds of cutting the fibers. They close up that quickly. I will have to redrill the holes, ensure the powder is in them, and add the water. To be in a position to do all that work, I will have to clear the area around the Schefflera. Dan left a lot of the branches. It is a treacherous climb.

Thursday, April 25, 2024

After that ball-buster of a 24-hour bout with deep grief Wednesday night, I slept well last night. I went to bed late because I had slept so much of the day. Grief is exhausting. I did wake up in the middle of the night. I looked like it would be a struggle to fall back asleep. I checked for the Tapping App, which has been helpful in the past. It said I had to pay. I purchased a year's subscription some time ago but didn't think it had expired. I did fall asleep again, but it wasn't restful. I slept in late.

When I got up, I immediately walked without doing yoga. When I turned out of the driveway, I saw Dean and Nina coming down the street. From how Dean held his right arm, I figured he was carrying a carton of eggs for me. He said one of the eggs had been laid early this morning. How's that for fresh eggs? Also, I get them for free.

Dean said the new crop of chicks he bought were old enough to be off the heating element and about ready to be transferred to the temporary coop at the bottom of the property. When they got older, they would roam free. Dean will provide some supplemental food and make sure water is always available. Dean brought the eggs into the house and put them on my kitchen counter. He also helped load an old printer into my car trunk. Then, they turned around and headed home at a good clip. Nina would be late for work if they didn't hurry.

I made sure to walk past their place this morning. Dean planned to lay out the logs from the tree Dan took down from my property along the edge of his property to block water flow and prevent further soil degradation. I was surprised to see thin branches. There had to be some thick pieces of trunk, but I saw no evidence. The tree was huge. I'll inquire tomorrow.

Dan took out the palm that planted itself and grew to block a significant part of my view. Dan charged me three hundred for two hours. I know he wasn't looking forward to taking out that dirty tree. The dead fronds clung to the side of the trunk, making a perfect habitat for the rats. He planned to just fell the tree but wound up breaking up the trunk and pushing it to a corner of the property. It will break down over time, making great soil.

I stopped at the electronic recycling center to deliver my broken printer and ancient TV set. I tried to stream a movie on the TV set. Forget it! Mike and I brought the TV with us from Ohio when we moved to Hawaii in 2015. It served us well until he died. Now, its use has expired. Finding the recycling center was a challenge. The directions were accurate, but they were just not specific enough. The center was a trailer in an empty lot. The folks who collected the items were lovely. They asked me for some money for the nonrenewable batteries because they had to pay for the recycling. It was a donation instead of a fixed fee. I gave them $6. You'd think I'd handed them a fortune. I had no idea how much to give. It made them happy; it made me happy.

I only worked with two kids today: second-grade TC and fifth-grade RN. TC reported a big improvement in her reading. I taught her to look for the syllable pattern, the V, and any possible letters after it. She read selections 11-15 accurately. She said she was up to Reading Roots 37 with the other tutors. I can't imagine she read any of it accurately. I wonder if the adults working with her are seeing an improvement.

With RN, I started on automatic recall. The boy is in 5th grade and still couldn't recognize the first 25 words in the Fry Sight Word list. I introduced Fernald's VAKT as a method for memorizing words. I had him write the words. OMG! He had no control over his hand during the process. I started with him following my motions as he observed them on the computer screen. He began his letters at the bottom rather than the top. Not a good sign. I had him move his closed fist across the page to get the movement. I moved his arm. It was locked. He managed to relax somewhat. I put a pencil in that hand. I guided his hand while he wrote his name. Then, I had him write it on his own. He did a pretty good job. I wasn't counting on him trying to write how I taught him. Handwriting is important because it connects neurologically to other academic processes.

Last night, I looked up product information on how the product works. It reduces puffiness and wrinkles beautifully. It's not a scam. But the saleswoman sold up $2400 worth of products for $300 to hook us. When we run out, we will have to pay full price. I was concerned about Paulette. When I discovered the reduction in the wrinkles around my eyes exposed the dark circles hidden behind the wrinkles, I laughed. When Paulette got a better view of the wrinkles to the side of her eyes when the puffiness was reduced, she was upset. I' 'm not that invested in my good looks. I don't think I ever had any in the first place. I had a good figure, excellent, in fact. That's gone now, too. I'm not even upset about that.

Until I met Mike, my great figure was a curse as well as a gift. Men were attracted to me because of it. Mike was the first man who wanted me for what I wanted to be wanted for. The great body was a bonus. The silly man complained when my shape slipped away in my late sixties. Really ??!! He complained I had a belly. I pointed out he had one, too. He said he had one when I met him. I didn't when he met me. While he was disappointed he didn't have a contest winner of a wife anymore, he didn't stop loving me. Boy, do I miss him!

Wednesday, April 24, 2024

I had a very, very bad night's sleep. I woke up at two, and that was it for the night. I had a bad bout of grief. It would help if I could cry easily. Unfortunately, I'm too well-trained to do that easily. When I do relax and let it happen, it's intense. Friends have told me my sobs sound like laughter. I'm not laughing. The tears finally came once midmorning.

Dan came over to cut down the Schefflera tree breaking up my driveway. I walked down to the bottom of the property to show him the other tree I wanted cut down. We took Elsa with us. Elsa wasn't with us as we came up to the fence to leave the lower area. That had never happened before. Dan and I ran around calling her name. Nothing. Finally, Yvette called out. She had let her into her house. I figured she wouldn't do that because Elsa, excited by the hospitality, leaves a hostess gift- an unwanted one.

Dean arrived by bike as Elsa, and I walked back into the house. Dan was going to take the cut logs over to Dean's house. Dean would use them to divert the rain so it didn't flood his property. It was a neighborhood effort. Dan didn't have the time to take on the second tree. He also felt he would need his extractor to do the job. That meant caring about Little again. The job, including the delivery to Dean's house, took less than two hours.

I had an appointment with Shelly. I worked on the grief. How do you deal with debilitating, painful bouts of grief? No easy solution came to mind. You have to go through it. Around it is not a good option.

I met with Adolescent D at 4. I had him read a very simple story. He made all sorts of errors because he made assumptions using just the first letter of the word and the context of the story. I told him he had to take charge of his mind. He should give his mind instructions before he starts reading, "Pay attention to the letters."

I looked up information on Truffoire products. I found a site praising the product, but nothing that sounded like an independent evaluation. Then, I found a site that said it was a good product but vastly overpriced and recommended another brand. When I checked their pricing, it wasn't great either. The Truffoire products are all-natural, with no chemicals. That's what makes them pricy. Buying the products was an indulgence, even at dramatically reduced prices

Tuesday, April 23, 2024

I had a bone density test at 7:45 am in town. The tech measured my height. I was 5 2 ½ inches. I was measured at Kaiser about a month and a half ago when Esther evaluated my posture. i measured 5'3 ". I have since completed the group sessions with Lisa. I lost ½ an inch. Esther said I would gain height with her method. I can accept that I didn't gain height, but I find it unlikely that I lost half an inch in that period. When I got home, I took a nap. Why was I so tired?

When I met with twenty-six-year-old S, I had her read a story she hadn't read before. I want to push accuracy in reading. The objective would be better served by reading unfamiliar material. She still won't do cross-body blending, but I think she pictures it when she gets stuck. She is very resistant. I told her she already knew everything she had to learn about reading. Now, she has to force her brain to use the knowledge. My job is to coach her in this process and ensure she reads words accurately instead of sliding over them, only using the word's first letter.

I continued with the syllable classification work with Adolescent D. I wondered if the activity was improving his reading, so I planned to have him read the text instead of coding in our next session.

In the book The Chimp Paradox, Steve Peters discusses how the 'chimp' doesn't represent who we are. The chimp brain is invested in our survival and egos as it is connected, rightly or wrongly, with our survival. We should identify only with our conscious, rational minds. I suppose this will help someone be more objective about those impulses generated by the 'chimp' part of our brains, but wow. The author, Steve Peters, does say we are responsible for the behavior dictated by our chimp brain. Still, he repeatedly says that when we act badly, it is not us. Our bad behavior doesn't define us. Here's the big question: if our bad behavior doesn't define us, why should our good behavior define us? I heard in a lecture at Princeton University that even serial killers will say they are no bad people; they have only done some bad things. Really?!! At what point do we say people are dangerous for others- may be bad.

The human tendency is for people to see bad behavior in themselves and their peers as the exception and bad behavior in 'others' as the norm. It is called prejudice when it happens between social groups. When it manifests in close relationships, it is equally destructive. You have one partner seeing their faults as minor and those same faults in others as serious. They may see they did something offensive to the other but accuse the other of unreasonableness. At the same time, they remain hypersensitive to any infringement of their values and needs.

Those who advocate, as Peters does, argue that there are no bad people, only bad deeds. At Princeton University, I heard a speaker say that serial killers claim they aren't bad people; they've only done some bad things. Really?!!! While we all do bad things, at what point can we reasonably say someone is actually bad or, for that matter, good?

Criticizing someone's character in interpersonal relationships is generally not a good idea. All relationship counselors will tell you criticizing someone's character rather than their behavior is a relationship terminator. It should only be pulled out when there is actual abuse. If you're in a relationship with someone who can never hear they have done something displeasing or hurtful, run like hell. My mom was like that when I was a child. The person responds at a physical survival level. Something happened to them before the age of four, if not younger, to lock them into that mode. My mother was that way.

My mom changed a bit when she got older. She wanted to be a better person. When she was young, she was drowning in fear and struggling for survival. Sad, but potentially lethal non the less. When she lived with me at the end of her life, she told me the one thing she regretted was that my dad never got to see her grow up.