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

Tuesday, December 30, 2025

Friday, March 19, 2021

I did one of my frequent short walks throughout the day, so I didn't spend endless hours just sitting on my ass watching my body settle into mush. I saw a young girl sitting on the lanai of the rental. I had seen a truck pull up and thought someone had moved in. There was further proof as furniture appeared on the lanai and then a large eating table and chairs at the side of the house. I called to the little girl, "How old are you?" Seven. I told her there was a bunch of six-year-olds living down the street. There is Leon, Adam, and Jazzy son, Leo, the son of the woman tenant in Adam and Jazzy's ohana, and finally, Juniper, who lives right across the street. The little girl's mom came out, and we introduced ourselves. The family had just moved here from the mainland. The mom had a job in a managerial position at a local golf club. I can't remember her name, but her husband's name was Ryan, the seven-year-old was Ryder, and the younger girl, turning two the next day, was Reilly. And yes, mom's name also started with an R.

I did more work trimming the shrubs along the top of the driveway. I've taken to sawing some of the branches. They're too thick for the loppers. I sprayed the saw blade with WD-40 each time and used both hands on the saw. The branches aren't too thick, and the work goes quickly.

I finally got around to applying vinegar to my backyard. I had three gallons that Judy and Paulette picked up for me at Costco and two more I picked up at Safeway. Because it has been such a long time since I have treated the area, I could only cover a small percentage of the backyard. I will need a good ten to fifteen more gallons.

I had an appointment with J in LA. He texted me he couldn't meet with me; they were cleaning the house.

Then I got a call from I's mother to say she had to take her son to the doctor at the time of our regular appointment; could we reschedule? Now, I had an immediate opening because J canceled. Right before I met with I, J texted me to say that he was free now. It hadn't been clear that he would only need a few minutes. I told him we could reschedule for later.

As I worked with I, I used more words from A Very Short Introduction to Spinoza. It led to a lesson on unstressed syllables. The word 'idea' came up. Hmm! This is a problem for me. As a New Yorker, I pronounce it 'idear.' I tried to figure out what the sounds might be if I said it like a Midwesterner. Boy, was I ever confused!

I met with J later. He zoomed through the work on his own, as he has been doing. I babysat. He may make one mistake here or there. He made errors determining the definition of some word using the text. I had to remind him to read the words before and after the unknown word to determine its meaning. While I like many things about the reading program he is in, I don't like that you can't go back and review the text at will.

I had my first session with 14-year-old D (versus the other D with memory problems, who is 10.) This D reads at a 2nd-grade level. He didn't want me to see him on the screen. I told him that was okay. I could hear the defensiveness in his voice. Others had tried to help him without success. I told him that I could not guarantee that I could help him while I had many success stories. Each case is different. I also told him that I wouldn't be blaming him if I couldn't help him. Then I started on my method, a system for discovering phonics. It came out that he didn't know what a syllable was nor what the vowels were. When I asked him if he knew, he said yes, A O S.

I told the mom to give him this simple exercise for remembering the vowels. Take any printed page, write the vowel letters across the top, AEIOU and sometimes Y, and have the student underline every vowel in the text. Preferably use a document written in English, but any text using the Latin alphabet will do in a pinch. The last bit of instruction is, Make sure the student scans the lines of text from left to right as they look for the vowels.

I finally got that we are always decoding 'single-syllable words,' even if the word is multi-syllables. Each syllable must be decoded separately. Once the individual syllables are decoded, you string them together to make a word- but we always start with lone syllables.

The way we identify the syllables is by identifying the vowel letters. They give us a clue as to how many syllables there are. We learn when a vowel letter serves a signal instead of a sound, as is the case in the silent final -e, and the vowel digraphs, like ea, ee, ie, ie, ou, au, etc. I realized that doing the vowel search exercise might also help my reading speed. Just as a professional musician practices the scales, any basic activity like a vowel search will reinforce and strengthen our ability to quickly recognize the presence of vowel letters. I did Phase I with my 14-year-old D exclusively, using his name and the names of his family members and then some words.

At the half-hour mark, I asked him if he wanted to continue. He said yes. He wanted to push through. I asked him if he was having fun or found it interesting or was just forcing himself. He said he was just forcing himself. I told him I didn't want him to continue in that case. The objective of this exercise is to learn to find exploring the sound/symbol relationship fun.

Thursday, March 18, 2021

As I walked this morning, I shifted my walking stick to my left hand to support my right leg as I brought my left knee higher, as if going up a step. I then brought my left leg down and pushed off. It put a lot of strain on my left upper thigh muscles.

I had an appointment with Shelly today. I didn't have much to talk about, but I was more moody than usual. That was upsetting. I felt like I was reverting. Mike was a stabilizing influence in my life. To stabilize me at the moment, I put my attention on connecting with him. Shelly felt the power of the love we shared. We shared that energy from day one. I don't know what you call it. Is it love? Or could you call it a shared something? We were both spiritual people at that level. I do know it when I connected with Mike, then it felt great; it still felt great.

For some reason, I thought about how I was made to feel different from others when I was a child. Everyone feels uncomfortably different at some level. Being different was dangerous back in the hunter-gatherer days. While there are 'good' differences and 'bad' differences, everything is only bearable if you have a parent, a community, who finds you acceptable. I wasn't blessed with such a parent. My mom was very uncomfortable with how I was different. She reinforced any ideas I might have had about being unacceptable to others. I think she believed what she was saying and felt she was doing it for my good. People did make comments about some ways in which I was different. My mother saw those comments as signs of danger. Somewhere in her mind, she believed she was helping me. I am sure she be very disturbed if she ever understood that she did more harm than good. Her perspective on many things was off. I wept. I wept the hardest I think I ever have in my life. I wept about being different when I wanted to be like everyone else. Mike was a good cover. He made me look normal, just an average middle-class housewife. Ah! What a relief.

I walked around the property to see what the gardeners had done. They had cleared areas that hadn't been touched since we moved in. It gives us access to some fruit trees.

Adolescent E. was a no-show today. He didn't answer his phone or text me. I would prefer he does that so that I know he is all right. I assumed he was at play. It's spring break for Hawaii students.

I had an appointment with A in the late afternoon. He was tired and made many more mistakes than usual. He completely forgot everything he learned about distinguishing b from d. I didn't just have to go over the procedure; I had to start from scratch. He was completely turned around within himself. He couldn't figure out which was first and which was second in a spatial sequence.

I switched activities to the Barnell Loft Context Clues exercises. These are sentences with a blank line in the middle and three choices. Because he was so off, I asked him if he wanted to read the words or have me read them. He said, "You!" I told him to read what he could, and I would read what he couldn't. I was able to use rhyming words to help him decode unfamiliar words. A is in second grade; the work we are doing is beginning first. He struggles with this. We did two of the exercises. Boy, that was that hard for him today. Seeing how frustrated he was, I asked him if he wanted to read the transcribed Carpenter materials. He read Stories 5 and 6. I have never gone this far with these materials. But then again, I never had to; I usually switched to materials kids might use in their class. A did a remarkably good job reading this material. However, Carpenter's story # 6 makes zero sense. I have to do a little rewrite on that.

The folks at Step-Up Tutoring have asked if I can recommend materials for teaching reading. The Carpenter materials might work for some. I could even provide them with my transcribed versions. I tried to find Gail on the Internet so I could purchase the materials from her. It sounded like her business address was defunct, and I couldn't find a home address for her either.

The lawnmower arrived tonight. As I knew, there's some assembly required. Yvette is delighted that I bought a manual mower. She hates the motorized ones as I do. We'll see. We may have to mow more often. I have trouble keeping up with the gardening. I wish I was more active. Late this afternoon, I did spend some time continuing with trimming the bougainvillea in the backyard. They looked so scraggly. I need to spray the ground area with vinegar; the weeds are taking over.

Again, I didn't vacuum the lanai area. The Rainbow vacuum is patiently sitting there waiting to be used. I have been good about washing the kitchen floor once a week. The house doesn't get a lot of use. I'm the only one here.

Wednesday, March 17, 2021

D's mother texted me that she wanted to cancel for the week. The Hawaiian schools were on their spring break. I was supposed to have an appointment with J, but I calculated the time wrong. There's a three-hour difference between Hawaii and CA with the time change on Sunday. I made a similar mistake for a new client. I rescheduled with J as I did with the new student. I couldn't connect on Zoom yesterday. I texted the mother, asking her to call me; I could not call her. Every time I dialed her number, the call was dropped. As I was on the phone with the mother, Julia, the step-up tutoring program tech support called. I merged the calls. Julia asked the mom if her email address was the one she had. No, it wasn't. Once I had the alternative address, we connected on Zoom.

E., the student I had difficulty connecting with, had to write a paragraph on the relationships between the American Indians and the Jamestown colonists. They had to write about something good or something bad about the relationship. I thought she had to write about both aspects. She thought she had to choose one or the other.

She had to work from a hard copy of a book. She read it to me. Her word calling is excellent. As she read, I took notes, but there was no reference to the topic. I finally told her to find the section of the chapter that spoke specifically to her topic. Some might argue that she's just skipping to what she needs and not learning more broadly. However, you also need to know how to address your objectives directly. Both are needed. She found the relevant section.

She chose to write about what was good about the relationship between the Native Americans and the colonists. I found her verbally constipated. I don't know if that was because she was afraid of me or other problems. I admit I pushed hard. I have been worrying that she was a kid who would need more than just homework help. I hate to work just to get an assignment done. I pushed her to say something. She resisted but finally came up with a great alternative to what I had in mind. I thought the logic was a little weak but not impossible. Whatever it was, it was good enough for a 5th-grade girl. I typed what she said and emailed her the results.

All day, the gardeners were hacking away on the jungle in the lower forty. The guy who usually does it hasn't been available since December; it was a jungle. Besides weed whacking everything, they pulled out every haole koa they could. They cut back and poured diesel on the ones they couldn't pull. Yes, diesel is supposed to kill them. It may take more than one dose. Rodney told me he didn't have enough gas. I only got three gallons; it was as much as I could lift myself.

I invited another of our neighbors to driveway yoga. So far, no one has joined us. Let's see. Jenni and her daughter may join us tomorrow. Saturday, it may be the two of them, plus Jazzy, with both her babies, and Naomi. I passed Beverly on the evening walk and teased her about coming. She had said she wanted to, but the morning hour was too early.

I spent a good part of the day working on my taxes. After receiving more receipts, I recalculated the monetary donations and filled out the non-cash forms. Then realized that I didn't have all the receipts from Hope Services. Lisa diligently collected them; I was going to get them all at once, and then the virus hit. I never went back to the homeless shelter after some time in March. There must be 3 or 4 receipts waiting for me. Lisa said she had sent them on to headquarters. She gave me the woman to contact. I left a message. Let's see if I get a callback.

B checked out where I could find the plans for the house when he learned that they couldn't be found at the civic center. We were trying to locate the cesspools. B. couldn't believe that the plans were just dumped. He tracked them down. They were transferred over to the health department. I called and got a digital copy of a rough sketch emailed to me. There was an image of the thirty-foot retaining wall. There's a big drop from the lanai outside my bedroom door and Yvette's ground level, a full story, at least 10 to 12 feet. It's quite a drop. Someone put in a dog kennel in that area with asphalt flooring. I hope the cesspool isn't under that. Digging that up would make for a big mess. The guy at the health department told me that the change from cesspools to septic tanks had to be completed by 2050 rather than 2030, as I thought. I'm on a roll; I have the money now. This way, the kids won't have to worry about it down the road, and it will increase the value of the house.

The only problem is septic tanks must be pumped out regularly. We haven't had to do anything with the cesspools. Although, there is no guarantee that we won't run into a problem in the unforeseeable future.

The guy at the health department mentioned only one cesspool. There had to be a second for the shed. My guess is it was never permitted. Great! Probably the whole shed was never permitted. I'm still waiting for the blueprints to reach me via email.

I continued watching Coming to America on John Zim's recommendation after he read about my struggle to find a fun video that wasn't violent or dark. It's okay. Murphy is incredible, particularly in his role as the old Jewish man. However, I was reading Paul Theroux's The Last Train to Zona Verde at the same time. He writes about the economic situation in Africa. Many black African leaders who led the overthrow of European dominance became horrible leaders. They rape the country's resources, keeping everything for themselves, just as the Europeans did. His description of the poverty in the continent is disturbing. No less to learn that extreme poverty is unnecessary. Many of these countries are wealthy, but their leaders keep every penny for themselves. The royal family of this movie lived that way. I could see the poor behind that rich façade.

_____-_____-______

Musings:

Why did men wind up being the politically dominant sex? I did a little research on the Internet. What I found said the sexes were equal in the hunter-gatherer groups. The change came in with agriculture and land ownership. Land titles were passed down through the patrilineal line. While this tells us when the change came in, it doesn't tell us why.

I thought about why instead of when. How's this sound? In the hunter-gatherer groups, the women probably stayed closer to home base. They were burdened with carrying and caring for children. The men had to venture out to find and chase down game, sometimes traveling good distances. Women were attending to local details, negotiating the familiar. Men were ranging into unfamiliar territory, both literally and figuratively. Women probably had limited contact with members of other groups. The men wondering about would have encountered strangers. They would have learned skills of dealing with unfamiliar situations, negotiating with strangers, or fending them off. And then there is the usual argument; men were physically stronger than women. That physical strength said nothing about intelligence of anything other than being able to bash someone in case. Women's social structure is more subtle, less visible.

Is it the difference in men's experience with the world at large versus the women's that made the difference? They acquired knowledge and skills dealing with the unfamiliar. Women were better at dealing with the familiar.

Tuesday, March 16, 2021

Dorothy is preparing for a two-week trip to Seattle to spend time with her daughter and her family. Her grandson, Sam, will be two. She had both shots, and the two-week waiting period will be over when she boards, but it will still be nerve-wracking. Along with all the rest of us, she was not used to leaving her home. We have all settled in for the duration; maybe forever will do nicely. The regularity, isolation, and limited exposure we have been living with may not be good for us, but it has become our norm. Moving out of our comfortable, settled life is hard.

I called Fiskars again before yoga. I ordered a manual reel lawn mower; you know, the one reliant on your muscle power. Yvette and I were both concerned if a grass catcher could be attached. They said they had only one style of reel mower that could take a catcher. I had called yesterday. The price they quoted was different from the one I paid; I paid less for ordering on Amazon. When I looked for the lawnmower with the grass catcher on the Fiskars site, I saw three different items next to the basket. All's well that ends well. I had ordered the right model. Moreover, Fiskars is out of that model. Maybe it is very popular.

The gardeners were coming tomorrow morning to clear out the lower forty. I had asked that they pull out all the haole koas as part of that. Those they couldn't pull because the roots were too large after being weed-whacked over and over and over, they would cut back and douse them with gas. I had them do that once before, only I had gotten regular gasoline. It has to be diesel fuel. I couldn't find the red gas can I had left in the garden a while ago, so I stopped at Home Depot to find a new one. I started the search in the automotive section. Nope. It was in a gardening tools section.

I head off to Costco with my two-gallon red gas can to get the gas. The line I got on was bad. Finally, a spot opened. I pulled in at an angle because I didn't dare back up. I would have been traveling at under 5 mph, a dangerous speed for me. The attendant came up and told me to move my car; he even offered to move it for me. I told him I just wanted a few gallons of diesel for the can. "Well," he said, "you can't use that can. You need a yellow can for diesel." Ah. I got back in the car and went back to Home Depot. As I approached the return desk, the attendant walked away and went to the other side of the store. I sighed and worked on breathing deeply. Once he got back, the return was easy. I told him I needed a yellow can. "Where could I get one?" He walked me to the aisle where I got the red can, the gardening tools aisle, and helped me look. Good thing he did. A) the can was tucked away on the bottom shelf, and b) it was huge -a five-gallon job. Okay, I bought it and returned to Costco. I knew I couldn't lift that can into the car. I asked for help from the attendant. I asked for only three gallons figuring that would be more than enough. He filled it for me and lifted the container into the car. I was off, chore done, and I hadn't freaked out. Yeah! For me. I have been stressed. It took effort not to knock someone's block off.

I had a new client through the Step-Up program. It's just temporary. The girl's usual tutor couldn't do two hours for a short period. They wanted me to cover the extra hour. I have been worrying about this. I asked the mother what the girl needed. The mom told me she needed help writing essays, but they told me that her tutor just helps her with her homework. I will use homework to teach a skill, but I don't like making completing homework my only objective. This means I may do a small portion of the homework to teach a skill. If I find a student who needs me to do all the work to complete it, I will refuse. That's a waste of my time, and it doesn't benefit the student.

Today was supposed to be my first session with her. I got the time confused. I set my alarm for Hawaii time rather than LA time. We rescheduled for sometime later in the day. Then we couldn't get the Zoom connection to work. Mom didn't receive the email I sent her. Then I tried to call the mom. Each time I dialed the number, it was dropped – immediately, "Call failed." Da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da! We even tried to have the girl send me a Zoom link. I got the email but couldn't get the meeting to launch. Wild. We gave up for the day and rescheduled for tomorrow.

I had J. later in the day. He was now working on his schoolwork instead of something random. This is the third session we have done this. During the first, I said, "Yes," as he answered each item, telling him it was correct. There was only one I challenged. In the second session, I said a little less. Today as he worked, I created a birthday card for my grandnephew, Sidney. I didn't even read the material. J asked me for help spelling a word; that was it. Much of his problem was self-confidence. I asked him at one point if he was questioning his answers and putting down wrong ones as a result. You know the old, "I'm too stupid to do well. If I think it's right, it must be wrong." He now said that his work is going much faster and is more fun. I am happy to sit with him while he does his work if it helps give him confidence. I reminded him each time that he did only the work on his own. I assume as his confidence builds up enough to drop me like a hot potato with a, "Who needs you anyway?"

I had my third appointment for the day with A. I noticed he had problems figuring out what word might fit into a sentence, a Cloze activity. We all need that when we come across words, we don't recognize. Students whose decoding skills are good need to figure out what the word is using context even when they have the 'incorrect' pronunciation. For example, if a student pronounces the last syllable of practice to rhyme with 'ice,' they can make the necessary adjustment when they read the word in the sentence and figure out what it really is. A cannot do this. He can compose good complete sentences, but he has difficulty with comprehension. I suspect autism with this child. His parents have never had him evaluated. I told them I thought it would be a good idea without telling them what I suspected. Autistic kids need support as early as possible to learn appropriate social behavior. They can follow directions and learn what to do when told explicitly, but they can't figure it out independently.

When I went for my evening walk, I was shocked to see a no trespassing sign on my new

neighbor's fence. The sign announced the presence of a video camera. We have a video camera set up too. We did have one issue when a guy who stayed here as my guest for free took offense when I asked him to leave. We suspect he grabbed some clothes off the clothesline in my backyard, right off my bedroom. Other than that, we have had no incidents. My neighbor's sign seemed to announce this is a dangerous neighborhood. It was quite a mood changer.

On the other hand, this sign was posted on the day some nut case shot up two massage parlors in Georgia with mostly Asian working women. Our new neighbors are Chinese, not Chinese -American; they are immigrants from China. I don't think we have had any incidents here. We have a large Asian community in Hawaii. A recent incident occurred when a police administrator made some mocking comments about Asians. He was fired.

Monday, March 15, 2021

I felt great in the late evening. The topics discussed in the Awareness Keys for Exceptional Living workshop didn't add anything to my way of living. However, since I felt much better when I woke up from my nap, I assume it had an impact. I was listening while I was sleeping. The presenter was cheerful, optimistic, and filled with positive intent. All was good.

I went to bed a little later than usual, concerned I wouldn't fall asleep, but I did. I slept beautifully until 3. When I woke up, I was again worrying about the situation with the acupuncturist. She does excellent work. I have been thrilled; her only error was last week.

She tried to drape my left leg over the side of the table. This is a standard position when working on the psoas. She said she thought it was a psychological problem when I wouldn't release the leg. Well, if I was pulling back to protect the psoas, she might have a point. My psoas was clearly not extended as far as it could be. However, it wasn't my psoas I was protecting; it was some mysterious muscle in my inner thigh that had been wrenched three times already. It had been tight since I went into a lunge without warming up when I was nineteen. I had told her of injuries to my inner thigh. My guess is she thought these were all injuries to my psoas. They weren't.

I felt very protective about that thigh muscle, as I should be. It never recovered from the first injury, and then Mike wrenched it. A yoga instructor jerked it shortly after, and finally, the physical therapist I was working with absent-mindedly wrenched it badly enough to do additional damage. Therapists have worked on it, usually leaving me groaning in pain as the aforementioned muscle spasms.

I've been thinking about the difference between muscle cramps versus spasms. They feel different. A cramp feels like it will resolve if I can stretch it out. It's a muscle bunching up. It responds to a firm massage. A spasm is a creature of a different nature. When a muscle spasms, all you can do is wait it out.

I thought of an additional difference: a muscle cramps when you stretch it; it spasms when you stop stretching it. Shortly after my rotator cuff surgery, someone dropped my bag onto my open fingers while I was still wearing a sling, wrenching something. It took over an hour for the spasms to stop.

My favorite spasm story is the one that occurred after I sat in the waiting room after 45 minutes flat on my back in an MRI machine, waiting to be told the images were okay. Something about my body makes the area over the SI joint particularly sensitive. I had to lie flat for them to get an accurate picture of my hip joint. It hurt so much it was hard to lie still. I had already abandoned one effort to get an image in an MRI machine because of the pain. I was determined to make it through all the way.

I started toning to deal with the pain without moving; I filled my mind with the noise so I wouldn't register the pain. I had assumed I was in a soundproof room. Not. When I came out, I groaned, and one of the techs snapped, "Oh, shut up." I think they thought I was screaming because I had claustrophobia. Since claustrophobia is a common problem, you would think they would have some training in compassion. Guess not.

I managed to walk to the waiting room, and then the spasm hit. I was doubled over. It was a full-body spasm. It's a weird feeling. It hurt so much it was almost funny. I'd groan and then make some observations about the pattern of the tiles on the waiting room floor. Mike had a tough time with me groaning. He was usually a compassionate person, but he recalls his mom constantly groaning with back pain on the sofa. I'm not usually a groaner, but it pushed his buttons anyway.

One of the techs came out to tell me that my MRI was okay and I could leave. Seeing me doubled over and groaning in pain, she said, "Just relax!" She's lucky I didn't rise up a bop her one. What I did say was, "If you don't have anything intelligent to say, why don't you just keep your mouth shut!" She probably thought I was still suffering from claustrophobia.

When we knew we could go, Mike said, "Let's go." I got up to walk. I needed to use the handrail on the wall. I had to reach up; I was so bent over. Someone in the waiting room yelled, "Get that woman a wheelchair." Mike, intimidated, did as he was told. It was an event. Believe me, I know the difference between cramps and spasms.

When my left leg is pulled over the edge of the table, it induces spasms. This does not happen when the leg is pulled out; it happens when it is released. What fun! It was better than it used to be. I think the muscle was ripped off the bone. It is permanently damaged. This is one of the reasons I haven't been willing to get a total hip replacement. I know the problem is not all caused by the lack of cartilage. I have been afraid of what the doctors would do to my body, not considering my spinal curvature and that damaged muscle.

During the day, I got a text from D's mom saying since the school was on vacation for the week, she was canceling the week's sessions. Then I had J at 11 am. I sent the Zoom invitation, and he didn't respond. When I called him, he said something was going on at his house, and he couldn't do the session. This has happened once before. I worry; is something wrong with one of his parents? Are they fighting? Is there an immigration issue? Is he in danger? I texted him that I hoped it all worked out well, and if he was available later, he should contact me.

I went down for a nap and woke up to a text from J saying he was available. I sent a Zoom invitation. We continued working on his reading assignments. He said he is doing them faster with a higher rate of accuracy. I think his problem was a lack of confidence. I'm not doing much right now.

I had a session with H at 2:15. The work always involves getting him to respond to me appropriately. Sometimes I ask him a question, and he doesn't respond- at all. I remind him that he has to offer me some response. He can say, "Wait a minute. I'm just looking at something." But he has to say something.

I also asked H how he felt after doing the spin release last week. He said, good. I asked him if he was able to use it on his own. He said yes. I wondered if it helped him feel better. He said a little.

Today, he played with a goose-necked table lamp, calling it a toy. He gave it a name. I think it is unusual for the autistic to be involved in make-believe. I have to check this. During the session, I encouraged him in his play. However, I was concerned about how he was using the lamp. He put a mask and some other objects in direct contact with the bulb. His mother came into view, and I asked her to make it clear to him that he could cause a fire. He responded well when she said no to him. I don't think his mom notices when things go her way, only when they don't. She does this with me too. Pretty unpleasant. She isn't overly critical, just not positive.

At four, I had a session with I scheduled. No response. I called her mom. No response. Her mom is a nurse and is often called into work on an emergency basis. I'm not too worried; I'll hear from her eventually. After dinner, I finally got a text from her. Her son had been in a car accident. He was home at that point with a bad concussion. Hopefully, nothing worse.

Yvette and Scott stopped by. I explained to them what had happened with the gas stovetop. I also talked to Yvette about ripping out trees if we replaced the cesspools with septic tanks. I said that I had put out $1500 to a local engineer to find the cesspools. Scott said he thought the building plans would tell us where there are, and I wouldn't need that guy to stick his camera down a pipe to find them. They are going to the Civic Center tomorrow morning to see if they can get hold of the plans, locate the cesspools, and save me the money. Of course, one septic tank costs in the order of $10,000. They have to be replaced by 2030. Might as well get them done now. Later, everyone will be rushing to get it, and the price will jump sky-high. And as with everything else, I'm figuring I have the money now. Lord knows what is going to happen with the economy. I'm getting everything done now.

Sunday, March 14, 2021

I had another bad night's sleep, tormented thoughts, struggling with people. Also, my left leg hurt in a new way after lying on that side. New pain is not necessarily bad; static, unchanging pain gets that award. New pain may be a step in the process. This pain is caused by a pinched nerve somewhere along the line.

When I finally got up, it was 7:30, a good two hours later than I usually get up. Between the warming days and the late hour, it was warm enough to take a shower before I did anything else. I have a heating unit in my bathroom ceiling, which takes off some of the sting out of the cold.

I did some work on the updates, another short walk, and then got to work on my taxes. I already organized my donations and called Kaiser to get the totals for my premiums and services. I had the contributions recorded in an Office document. I copied the amounts on a separate piece of paper, making them easy to copy when I entered them into an Excel document. That piece of paper disappeared, a letter from the IRS acknowledging receipt of Mike's half of the Pandemic relief check. I saw it that morning. I hadn't moved anything from the table I was working on or thrown anything out. Yes, I checked the garbage. Any suggestions?

I was feeling lousy this morning, lousy enough to consider the possibility I was physically sick. But no, it's only full-on grief.

At 1 pm, I had the second session with the Awareness Keys for Exceptional Living. This is run by Yoga Farms Ithaca, some prospering yoga studio in upstate New York. The price for participating was $126, although they did it on a donation basis if you couldn't afford the recommended price. I counted the participants. It was close to 100. Not bad for an hour and a half for 12 Sundays in a row.

Courses like this are like AA meetings; you can always hear something new or something old in a new way. It was also a change of pace from my usual routine. Can't we all use that now? The presenter is a lovely lithe cheerful forty-year-old. She giggles a lot. She had a good energy to bring into my life. Besides that, hmm.

For starters, I don't agree with her position on human nature. She believes we are basically good, wonderous. When we get in touch with our true nature, we are wonderful, kind, loving, wise people. To me, love feels like oxytocin. There is a dark side to that chemical. It is behind genocides because it is driven by a deep love for our own.

She teaches to let the heart rule. Another shibboleth I don't hold with. I have a friend in Ohio who visits her aunt in a nursing home. This aunt is an evangelical Christian who believes that God has sent Trump and is doing His will. When my friend points out the flaws in his character, her aunt doesn't argue with her. Instead, she directs my friend to "listen to your heart." Can we conclude that anyone who doesn't believe Trump is an emissary of God is not listening to their heart? Are we all on board with that?

The presenter led a mediation. Her directions were to remember our soul vow word and then imagine all the participants sitting in a single location, joining hands and hearts. It was a lovely visualization, but I was gone with my soul vow word, happy. Last week she had us conjure an image that exemplified that word. What came to my mind was a Thanksgiving over twenty years ago.

We had twenty-four people for dinner. It was more family than we ever had had before. Damon invited the woman he was dating at the time, and she brought two friends. There was a scene that was striking for me. A family member wasn't acting according to code, and I thought it was funny in a loving way. My image included Mike in the kitchen, captain of the event, getting the food out. The word that I associated with the event was 'belonging.' It was a happy image; Mike was there helped to create that world. I love the world Mike, and I created together.

We went to breakout rooms after that group visualizations in which I did not connect with the other participants. There were only four of us. One woman was not in a position to talk, another had a demanding three-year-old to deal with, and then there was me. I was asked if I wanted to share. I told them I was in a bad space and didn't want to affect others' experiences. I said I was dealing with the second anniversary of my husband's death. I started crying but suppressed it. I could easily have sat there and sobbed for several minutes. One of the women helpfully expressed condolences, but nothing lifted the gloom.

When we came out of the breakout rooms, I was exhausted. I switched off my video access, went to the bathroom, and lay down on the sofa to let what would happen happen. The presenter talked about each day as if it was our only day on earth. I lived somewhat that way since I was in my late teens.

From ages 13-15, I had lost one male member of the family per year. Now, three of them were grandparents or of that generation. The fourth was my dad. A few years later, another relative died of cancer, Gerda Luft. My aunt Maggie had visited her in the hospital towards the end. Gerda said, "I can't die; I've never lived." Wow! Wow! That did it for me. I lived as if each day could be my last. I'm not sorry for that impact, but it did leave me living at a somewhat hysterical pitch until I learned to tone it down when I was middle-aged.

I'm inclined to believe that some of my emotional breakdown that day was caused by receiving the vaccine. No, the chemical of the shot didn't cause this. The vaccine signals the end of a period of stress. I don't have to worry about getting the virus myself. It also holds the possibility that we may end this year of living carefully and get back to normal.

I know that people often function routinely under actual stress and experience a breakdown once that pressure is relieved. It took me a year and a half to start dealing with that experience while Mike was in the hospital for those five weeks. I don't remember thinking I was doing something hard at the time. I just did what I had to do; there was no question that I would do that.

Given my behavior when I decided to let Mike go, there is a possibility the medical staff thought I was out of my fucking mind. Damon had said earlier that day that he was ready to let Mike go. That put the full burden for taking him off life support on my shoulders. Is anyone interested in having the full responsibility of the decision to allow a loved one to live or die on their shoulders? Fortunately, Mike was able to communicate that he wanted to die. Once I heard that, I ran out of his ICU room into the open area of the floor and yelled, "Tomorrow. Tomorrow at 2 pm." I never spoke to anyone specific person. I was in a state of semi-hysteria, announcing the best news ever. Shortly after returning to the room, the palliative care team nurse was at my side. I share the 'good news' with her. She left. I have no idea what she thought. I can't believe this is the only time she saw a reaction like that. As they say, everyone deals with grief differently. My joy was in being relieved of the responsibility for the decision to pull the plug. It should be clear that the whole family would have pushed me should I have balked. I wouldn't have had to make the decision alone.

I woke up from my nap to hear someone say, "Betty must not be on anymore. My picture was up, and the final breakout room was in session. I said nothing and went back to sleep. I went for a short walk after I got up. I felt better. I think that little bit of sobbing helped, and the outreach of one of the women in the breakout room was also helpful. Not everyone can be a source of comfort for me, even people who deeply care about me. I am struck by how Mike is not replaceable. I honed my personality to his over 45 years. I'm keyed to him. Others are not good substitutes, no matter how much they love me or how much they care.

I had a riotous phone conversation with a relative tonight. I told him I was purchasing a reel lawnmower. He said gas or electric. I said neither. It took him a minute to comprehend what I was saying. "OMG! I remember pushing one of those when I was a kid. They are murder to work with."

Saturday, March 13, 2021

Woke to pouring rain in the middle of the night. I wondered if we would have driveway yoga today. It's unusual for it to rain in the morning. When I was up and getting ready for my walk, it sounded like it had stopped. When I opened the door, I saw that it was raining. Okay, Elsa will have to use the backyard, and I'll get my steps in walking the length of the house, taking detours into the bedroom area. As I walked, I heard the rain come down hard. Sounds like the storms hitting every other part of Hawaii have finally arrived here on the west side of the Big Island. Maui has been experiencing devastating floods; homes have been lost. There are rivers of two to three feet flowing down suburban streets. The heavy rains had already hit the east side of the Big Island, but until this morning, we've been bone dry.

I walked back and forth, talking to Mike. Boy, I miss him. I was never the 'little woman." Mike was the more confident decision-maker when we were younger. Mike's response was to push me to be more confident and take over more responsibility. As his kidney disease left him weak and tired, I took over more and more of our daily decision-making, except for food. That remained his domain until the day he went to the hospital with his fatal pancreatic attack.

I have a full life without Mike, but it's been two years now that I'm without him, and it's starting to wear on me. Mike helped me with stress relief. Life is full of those minor disappointments and unpleasant surprises. "The heartache and thousand natural shocks the flesh is heir to." As I've said before, what separates the men from the boys is our ability to deal with those shocks, not just respond appropriately to the situation but release the trauma, writ small, that results from those encounters. Mike was someone who helped me with that. I could tell him of my disappointment; he could give me some perspective and strategies for responding, and he would hug me. With a big hug, all the stress would just ooze out. Now, I have to figure out how to release those traumas on my own. I actually know how. I am a trained meditator. I completed over 10 10-day courses in the Vipassana form of mediation, and I used to meditate two hours a day. I stopped doing it when Mike hurt my leg, and I could no longer sit cross-legged, which I deeply associated with the process.

Besides how Mike helped me release stress, he also added so much to my life. They say that a relationship must have a ratio of 5 to 1 positive interaction to survive. When it goes below that, the relationship is more negative than positive. I would say I had a 20 to 1 or higher ratio in my relation to Mike. Also, there were wonderful moments that I would give them more than one point. He would do little things that showed he knew who I was and remembered me. He would bring home something I hadn't asked for when he went food shopping, but he knew I could use. Those small acts caused love and gratitude to balloon inside me. And can I forget his kiss? His kiss was one of the best things in life for me. I loved spending my life with him. I was so lucky.

The relationship may have been better for me than it was for him. I know he was happy with me, but I don't know if it was equal. I know he was grateful for things I did for him: give up my life in NYC and move to Princeton to be nearer to his son; insist he get his second Ph.D. because I knew how much he wanted to study, get a full-time job so I could help support us, and put up with his being in DC when I was in Princeton; and finally, giving up my life in Princeton to move to Columbus, Ohio so he could work at the Josephinum. But none of those things felt like sacrifices for me. They all felt right, and I benefited from them all. I loved making the man happy, but these moves also brought things into my life that made me happy too. We were a good match. I miss him. I miss the opportunity to make him happy. Of course, given his compromised physical condition, I don't know if there would have been anything anyone could have done to make him happy had he lived. That would have been a nightmare. I guess the final thing he did for me was die and not subject me to a long grueling caretaking experience that had no rainbow at the end.

My left leg and hip had been bothering me. I used the infrared lamp on that inner thigh. I don't use it as much as I would like because getting into a position where it shines on that part of my body is an athletic event. I get pretty close to that left inner thigh by lying on the sofa and resting my leg on the coffee table. All was going well when there was a sudden momentary electrical outage. The standing light came right on again, but the infrared lamp didn't. I thought the bulb must have been blown. Damn! But I would deal with it. When I finally got up, I saw that somehow, I had jerked the lamp and unplugged it. That would keep it from turning on. Problem solved.

I spent most of the day getting my 10,000 steps while walking in the house and working on updates and blogs with a little time out for dusting. Then I needed a good nap. Grief is exhausting.

At three, I had a session with A. He is a mystery. He cannot use context to figure out what the word might be. I thought he had significant auditory processing problems, but he could repeat good-sized sentences almost verbatim and always with the same intonation. However, if he has to figure out the meaning of a word from the surrounding ones, forget it. I started working with him on sentence comprehension. Here I ask questions that have to be answered only using the words in the sentence.

The cat sits on the windowsill.

!. What sits on the windowsill?

2. What does the cat do?

3. What does the cat sit on?

I once did that with a long sentence from an SAT exam and generated 100 questions. I believe this is what our minds do automatically as we read. The questions become more complex in a long text as sentence two references sentence #1, etc.

It stopped raining, and Elsa and I could do our before-dinner walk outside. Juniper, the six-year-old who lives down the block, was riding her bike as she has been every night of late; since she learned. Juniper is a very cautious little girl. She is both attracted to Elsa and afraid of her. She is afraid she will scratch her and bite her. I told her it was not impossible but unlikely, so I started teaching her about risk-taking. She is a little too cautious. That's not going to serve her well in life.

Her mom was the one out in a beach chair by the roadside, watching her ride up and down. I told her about the driveway yoga classes on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. She manages an online site for Nordstrom. While they are happy to have her work from Hawaii, they're located in Seattle, she has to follow Seattle hours. After the time change, she will have to start work at 6 am. She's good with it and happy they're good with her working from Hawaii.

When I got home from the walk, I did a run-through of the PowerPoint Presentation. I'm trying to go through it at least every other day. Damon had recommended that I write a script and rehearse it. Wonderful advice. It's building my confidence. Once I'm through with the Step-Up tutors' presentation, I'll design one for YouTube that won't anticipate audience reactions.

Spinoza has been my dinner companion of late. I'm reading another of the Very Short Introduction series. God, that man was mentally constipated. Nietzchze referred to him as a febrile recluse. However, I see a lot of similarities between Spinoza and Buddha. The difference is Buddha's thought is clear and straightforward; Spinoza's is tortured. Buddha's focus was on helping people. I don't' really know what Spinoza's objective was. "Creating knowledge? Adequate thinking?" Spinoza possibly never even heard of Buddha. However, the way the Buddhists wrote at that time is pretty tedious reading, too.

I watched some more of Pippin. I can't say I think it's a great show. It's antiwar, but it doesn't ring my chimes.

Judy called on her way home from a local Thai restaurant. She didn't feel like cooking tonight. Her brother-in-law is dying. He has been sick for a time, or at least his body has not been at its best. Each day they think this is going to be his last. So far, I've lost four people that were significant to me. Yvette's birth mother died when we were forty; she was also forty. My college roommate, Barbara. Then my mom, and finally Mike. Of course, I lost other people when I was younger. My dad, uncle, and grandparents, but that all seems like another lifetime now. Mike and even my mom, who died in 2001, are all current losses.

I had it with Pippin. It's annoying me. I turned on the Crown. It is very well done. Thatcher is a nightmare. While living the royal family's life is also a nightmare, it is steady. I like stability right now. What is going on now in the royal family is more disconcerting. It's not that I think Harry and Megan aren't telling the truth. It's just that it's blowing the royal family cover, designed to remain stable and fulfill the duty. I think we all need people who are committed to duty at this time; we need a steady image. The royals pay the price for living that way. God go with them. All that money and privilege don't compensate. Once we have a basic decent living standard, housing, food, and medical care, the rest doesn't compensate for living a life divorced from the self.

Friday, March 12, 2021

The man who usually mowed our lawn hadn't been available for several months. Yvette was supposed to use his lawnmower to do the job. She had the same reaction I did; that machine was too much trouble to deal with. I thought of buying a lawnmower, a motorized one, but I really don't like them. I saw our next-door neighbor mowing her lawn with a manual one. Ah! That sounds much better. We have an acre, but not much of it is lawn needing to be mowed. The more serious issue is all the ground that has to be weed-whacked.

I told Dorothy about the lawnmower dilemma. She said Milt had a manual mower; it was a pleasure to use. She thought it was an American Lawn Mower. When she checked with him, it wound up being a German-made mower, a Brill. I saw that I could order a lawnmower on Amazon Prime. While it is not a Brill, the Fiskars had a high rating. Wow! I was on it like a shot. I don't have to pay shipping costs with Prime. I'm sure some assembly will be required. Both Yvette and I hate the machine mowers, noise, and smell. Also, Mike taught me the machine mower had to be serviced every spring. That's a lot of money. The reel one just needs to have its blades sharpened. In the meantime, Yvette's friend Steve brought over his motorized lawnmower and did the job.

I asked Yvette if she could help me clean up the shed to fit a lawnmower in. She took over the job. She cleaned out all the unnecessary junk, some for the dump and some to Habitat for Humanity for donation. Besides getting rid of stuff and organizing what was left, she dusted the shelves and vacuumed the floor. It looked spectacular.

I had a 9am appointment with Shelly. I saw my sessions with her as a self-indulgence because I love exploring the human psyche; mine is just the most available one. Years ago, I thought of myself as running an experiment with me as the key guinea pig. But nowadays, I have issues to work on. I'm more brittle and reactive. I realize that this has been building up over the last two years. Mike could help me release stress. He was my go-to-guy. I hadn't confronted this fact yet.

I find myself getting involved in 'fights' with people in my mind. I haven't done that in years. Between my meditation training and Mike's support, I was free. As I worked with Shelly, l concluded that fighting with people was a way to interact. That's missing from my life now. Why chose that form? It's Brer Rabbit in the briar patch. This is how I related to my mother, non-stop. It wasn't great, but I wasn't alone. I existed in a relationship with another person. I was connected. I did the best I could to learn a different way of relating to people. I managed that with Mike. I did a dynamite job. I was happy in a peaceful relationship. I worked on releasing all that was negative about this other way of relating.

At some point, Shelly asked me if this was really me or an intrusion of another person, in this case, my mother. I don't know if there is a situation where that question makes sense. I was trained to interact that way in response to her. Calling that an intrusion is like calling my knowledge of English an intrusion rather than my own. If I learned it, it's mine.

I had a session with D. at 11:30. He read the words with reasonable accuracy, having good comprehension even with some errors. However, I have him working on beginning third-grade inferencing exercises, and he's struggling on that level. We get through one to three passages in a half hour. This is where I started with M. She struggled with the first exercises. But she is now zooming through 10 to 15 in a session. I had to jump a whole grade level with her.

I had J at 2:30. We worked out our schedule for next week. California went on daylight savings time; Hawaii doesn't do time switching. If there were no other reason for moving to Hawaii, this would be it. I hate, hate, hate the time changes.

When we worked together on his comprehension exercise last time, he had all the correct answers except for one out of a good twenty. When I saw the final score, I was surprised at how low it was. He had done some of the work on his own. I asked him if he doubts his first answer. Yes. I pushed him to always go with the first answer. I reminded him how little I contributed to his work yesterday.

Today we worked on a writing project. It's amazing how computer programs are set up to guide the process. I was impressed with J's understanding of the assignment. I didn't understand why his grades weren't better. I sat and read a book on my own as he did his work. I read ahead to determine where he could find an answer in the Wiki entry.

Some say Wiki shouldn't be allowed. In my day, it was the Encyclopedias, Britannia and World. Wiki is basically the same thing. Why shouldn't they use it?

After I returned from another brief walk, I went through the PowerPoint Presentation. Again, I made some changes. I was alarmed to find that the title slide was blank. I have no idea why the computer program did that. I couldn't see how to reconstruct it. PowerPoint offered me one design with the same shape but a much darker blue. I like it when the image looks like a cloud. This has to do with the great pleasure I take looking at the clouds during yoga while lying on my back. It also has to do with The Cloud of Unknowing. The book is unreadable, but I love my understanding of the concept of accepting unknowing.

I had I at 4 pm. She said she followed up on the exercise I gave her to do Phase I, analyzing one sentence's sound-symbol relationship each day. I think her reading sounds better. She thinks her reading sounds better. However, the teacher hasn't heard her read, and she won't read to her mother. We worked on Phase II today, decoding longer words. I pulled some beauties out of the Very Short Introduction to Spinoza. She knew what the vowels were but didn't know the consonants. I went over that briefly. Of more significance, the vowel letters didn't jump off the page and bite her on the nose. I gave her mother an exercise; she had to underline all the vowels in any given text. She didn't have to read the words. The objective is to heighten awareness of the vowel letters. That's it. While she didn't have to read it, I suspect the exercise would be good in any language that used the Roman alphabet. I would still want the student to be working with English spelling and be exposed to the patterns unique to this language.

Judy and Paulette dropped off two huge bottles of vinegar. Costco said they didn't have vinegar, but here were two bottles from Costco.

Tommy, my hero techy, said he was just about to launch my Facebook Page. We'll launch the audio file with it. I'll have to write an article to explain how to use it in more detail.

I watched more of Pippin before bedtime. It didn't ring my chimes.

Thursday, March 11, 2021

Woke up in one of those lousy moods; I found so many things to be angry about. These mood swings are new, well, new again. I have spent many years in relative peace. I kept repeating Mike's mantra, "It's a problem to be solved." In other words, don't get worked up emotionally; focus on how you can solve the problem—such a great approach. I can say this much more than I used to; I don't go racing off to attack the problem. I wait. I wait till I calm down a bit think of a better solution than direct assault.

The problem looming largest on my mind was a bodyworker that insisted on pulling my left leg out over the edge of the table to do some work. I am always resistant to that move because I have been hurt by practitioners when they did it. I know the difference between good pain, which says 'healing,' and bad pain. That pain sets in when the leg is released from its extension. That's what she did, and I screamed. I don't think she caused any damage, but it can take me fifteen minutes for the pain to subside if it is done wrong. No, no, and no. I will not allow her to do that again.

As I walked up and down the street, getting my 10,000 steps in, I worked on pushing out my left hip more. It seems extreme, but I suspect this is just what I need.

I got two phone calls during driveway yoga. Both were people my phone had dialed at 5:30 in the morning. They must have thought something was terribly wrong with me. Yvette had us lie on our backs in the class and put blocks under our tushes with our legs out straight. Boy, that is some psoas stretch!

After doing some work on the blog posts, I went to town. I was going to stop at Costco to look for white or distilled vinegar when I remembered a man posted at the store's exit told me to call ahead to see if they had vinegar before I came there. It took a while for a woman in the administrative office to find the information, but it came out they had none and would have none until sometime in April. What the . . . . ? I drove to town to the bank to cash a check and to Safeway to pick up some food items. My biggest concern was apples. I use apples and cashews as an afternoon snack. I decided to check for vinegar. Safeway had several gallons. I grabbed two. They also had PK Chang frozen food items on sale. I grabbed four.

When I got home, I napped. I woke up after an hour. I did some work on the two PowerPoint slides, one for the workshop presentation for the Step Up Tutoring Program on the 22nd, and the other to accompany the Phonics Discovery System audio file with phonemic transcription I posted on YouTube.

I had J at 2:30. In the past, he never asked me to work with him on his homework except for a little with his math. I assumed he was doing all right- wrong. His sister outed him. His grades were not good. Now, I'm insisting he work with me on his classwork. We started with his math work. It was decimals with exponents. I was able to help him get the idea. He learns fast, and it was fun working together. He thought it was fun. I got one wrong (any number)0= 1. Huh? I never knew that, and I don't understand how that works. Jean, my hanai sister, has a master's in math. I will check with her.

We spent about half an hour on the math. Next, J brought up a reading exercise. The LA school district has this online learning down pat. I'm not sure, but I suspect Hawaii is nowhere near it. As he read, I could hear his reading speed had improved. I helped a little with the work he was doing, not much. He aced most of it. When he tallied his score, he missed many more than I remembered. It came out he had done more poorly when he wasn't working with me. Why is beyond me because he did most of the work with did together on his own. I merely confirmed his choices.

I had a session with E. We had missed a least two weeks because he was busy with other things. He reported that his schoolwork, which used to be such a burden, was a much lighter load. He sailed through it now that he was not beating himself up as he did his work, telling himself he was too stupid to do a good job.

I asked him to pick something that annoyed him. He said the dryer had broken, and he had trouble getting clean clothes. I did a release on his negative feelings about not having clean clothes. Boy, even I'm surprised by what 'annoyance' can bring up. It was amazing. But that's all I'm going to say about in this case. I think we are working on a tender core issue for this boy. While only one person who reads this will know who I am talking about, it feels wrong to write about the details here. Even though I would love to because the process is so interesting and so powerful.

I went for one of my short walks before setting up for my session with A. I tried to set up on the Surface Pro to find myself locked out. It asked Mike's email password. I had it, but it didn't work. I think the Josephinum canceled his email address again. They misunderstood me. I want them to keep it forever. Otherwise, I'd had clear him from the tablet. It won't say Mickael Ross with the password of betty, his choice. I'll call in the morning to see what is going on.

In the meantime, I set up on the Apple. As I did, I got a text from A's mother, asking if we could cancel for the day and just do Saturday. I asked if we could talk. She was immediately available. Both she and A's father were on the phone. I wanted information on how much progress they thought he had made. On a rate from 1 to 10, 10 being the level a 2nd grader should be on, they thought he started on a 1-3, and he was at a 4-5 now—pretty much as I saw it. I asked them if he ever had any other testing. They said no. This is remarkable. This boy looks like he is constantly swimming in confusion. It's on his face, in his movement. I recommended they have a neurologist look at him. I told them that I concluded his problems impacted his relationship with his peers. I also told him that he learns quickly. I thought that most of his problems were caused by sensory processing, both visual-spatial and auditory.

Damon called while I was working with J. The phone had not rung. Sometimes the phone rings; sometimes it doesn't. I thought having the earbud in would block the ring, but then I heard it ring when it was in. That was not the problem. I will have to call Apple tomorrow.

Wednesday, March 10, 2021

I tried to watch a light movie last night. It wound up being a little too light; it was downright tepid.

In my last session with my acupuncturist, she reminded me that the spine should go through its full range of motion with every step. I figured out how to get the backbend by leaning back, holding my head up straight instead of looking at the ground, and allowing my head a little backward bounce at the last moment. I can feel the impact on my spine. However, I couldn't figure out how to get that lower back forward curl with each step. I could create it on my right side but not my left. Today I figured out, again, I'm sure, that I get that forward curl by raising my knees as I walk. With each step, I use my abdominal muscles to lift the leg. Wow! Talk about muscle strain.

It has come to my attention that while my weight has remained the same, my waist has gained an inch to an inch and a half. Damn! While I get in my 10,000 steps a day and my yoga three times a week, I also spend a lot of time sitting on my duff.

I started rereading the article on my reading method I had been working on before my attention was kidnapped by the PowerPoint presentation for the Step-Up Tutoring program. Now that's done, I can bring my attention back to the article and then the book. Today, I wanted to check out the slide show I designed to be the Phonics Discovery System audio file's visual feature. Because Tommy and I decided to use the first slide from the Step-Up PowerPoint presentation as a logo, sort of, I wanted to use it as the title slide for this slide show too. It didn't match the design I had used.

I noticed that PowerPoint offered me suggestions for designs that were compatible with the design I had selected. Wow! The PowerPoint I put together is glitzy and effective. I love it. I made some modifications to the text. Mainly I distributed what I had already written over more slides. Now I have to set up the Facebook page and figure out how to make the audio file transcript available through the site. Then I'll be ready to rock and roll.

I had D. at 11:30. Another problem; he hadn't charged the fire tablet. Could we do the session on his mom's phone? That's what we had used originally; it was workable. He reads well when it comes automatically, but he does not use the skills I have taught him when he stumbles. Look for the vowels? "T." Really? Is T a vowel? I think this relates to his memory problems. Then he read a u as an n. Yes, it flipped over. "Does the visual distortion happen on the page or in your head?" In his head. Do you know how many times I have asked him that over the last year and a half? I asked him why he didn't tell me that before. "I don't know." I can believe that, but it does suggest a more complex psychological cause than has been apparent.

It wound up he was using the wrong part of his brain. I show him how to do something correctly effectively, and he doesn't follow through. It drives me nuts. I am way more reactive with him than I should be. His comprehension has improved somewhat. It's his word recognition strategies that are still in the toilet.

I had a conference with Julia A from Step-Up Tutoring. We talked about the PowerPoint; how long should the break-out rooms be? I couldn't set up the Zoom through Step-Up at my end. She hosted the meeting. As we talked, I saw something I had left out, "Always use standard English spelling."

I caught a nap before my 2 pm class with M. M. is progressing rapidly as far as I'm concerned. Her mom says she sees no difference in her conservation. I see her doing so much better. I have been skipping items and moving ahead rapidly. I started with material designed for the 3rd grade. We struggled with the first two or three exercises. Then she took off. We will be moving into the 5th grade level in our next class. I spent the time between my session with M and my upcoming session with J at 3 pm typing up some of the passages from that 5th grade Barnell Loft, Drawing Conclusions text for my next class with M.

J's sister, Ju, was present at the start of the session. Ju made it clear that he didn't get praise from his teacher for his work. J says his grades are better, still 2s and 3s instead of 4s, but more 3s- or so he says.

When we started working together, he was enthusiastic about the sessions, contacting me if I was a few minutes late. While he is still cooperative about time, he seems less cooperative about the work. I thought maybe he felt he was doing well enough. I was disappointed to hear this was not the case. I wondered if I had had any positive impact. He said yes, in math. Huh? We worked extensively on reading too. How come that didn't make a dent in his skills?

I put my foot down. I insisted he work on a class assignment. He would have it done in time, but I could use the work to teach. I asked him if he created images as he read. He said no. In one paragraph, I covered visualization, anaphor, and compare and contrast. The exercise required him to write answers to questions. His answers weren't bad, just incomplete. His writing improved considerably by adding a few words and dropping a few ands. It's hard for the Spanish to adapt to the English verbal style. And- is their favorite word, creating one long run-on sentence in English, we don't use it as much. Each language has its own idea of 'correct' sentence structure. On a positive note, when he came across a multi-syllabic word he didn't recognize, he applied the decoding strategy I taught him. Made me feel like a million bucks!

I found a documentary on Bob Fosse's life. I learned that he developed his choreography to suit his own body. He had tight hips, so he avoided movements that required side leg extensions and introduced dance with the legs turned in. That made me laugh. I have the same problem. When I was in my forties, someone said to me jokingly that I should develop my own dance style based on my turned-in feet and call it Betty's Dance Style. Ha! Ha! Guess Fosse beat me to it.

While his hips were tight, Ann Reinking had the loosest hips ever. I just found out she had flexible hips because of a genetic disease, Marfan's, which left people with super loose muscle tone. However, I remember Gwen Verdon saying that Ann could launch a jump from a standing posture. That requires great strength. Reinking was my model for how the hips should work. There's a scene in All That Jazz where she is doing a duet with a twelve-year-old, who I believe is Fosse and Verdon's daughter. The contrast between the two is startling. Reinking's legs look like they are being controlled by puppeteers' strings; the young girls like their being cranked up with a crane. Now, to find out that Reinking's magic resulted from disease. Oh, well.