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

Thursday, January 29, 2026

Friday, January 21, 2022

I took the KT tape off my left ankle and calf yesterday. You can only leave it on for a couple of days. It stays on through showers. I did a short walk this morning without the support. It was challenging.

As I sat preparing the day's blog for posting, Isaac called. It was still dark out. "Are you okay?" I asked. He was running before school and noticed the front gate was open. Was everything okay? This neighborhood is amazing. We all watch out for each other. I am so lucky.

I had an early appointment with the chiropractor. I had to shower before the day warmed up. That meant having to close off the area, four doors, and three windows, and turn on the heating element in the bathroom. I checked to see how the solar system was doing with the electric surge. It must have been cloudy yesterday. We used up the battery supply long ago and ran on the grid.

The chiropractor continued the work that PT started. She did Graston on my lower leg, the outside of my left calf. There is one hot spot. I told her the PT used the jade stone to do the fascia work on my leg. The chiropractor said the same thing Yvette did; the stone is porous and impossible to clean properly. Neither Yvette nor the chiropractor would consider using it with their clients. I'm not going to mention their thoughts to my PT. I didn't have any open wounds on my leg.

The chiropractor reminded me she told me I should be wearing arches supports. I refused. You need closed shoes to use professional molded arch supports. They don't go well with my Crocs. Are all my current problems a result of my not wearing them? It is possible. Will walking be a non-option for me because of problems with my feet and ankles? Damn.

I worked on updates and blogs and organized the details of a story first-grade M told me about a horse she just got. I still have to organize all the stories she has dictated to me. In her last story, she told about the arrival of her new horse. From what I could make out, the horse's name was Fritos, as in Lays. I texted her mom to see if it was Frito or Fritos. Neither, Preferito. Oh, boy. How will she cope with that information?

The sun was good enough to make it a laundry day. I was confident the rain would hold off long enough for the blanket and bed linens to dry.

Elsa went to the side door and scratched to get out; she wanted to go out in the front driveway. I have never seen her do that. I put on her leash and opened the door. She charged out. It was a good thing I had her on the lease. The front gate is left open now. Yvette and Josh jerry-rigged the lower fence to block their dogs from getting out to the street. Elsa pulled to go somewhere. Just as I bent down to pull a weed. That threw me off balance; I lurched forward. There was a four-inch high plant right in front of me. I managed to step over the plant and not fall. My reflexes worked. While I was scared, my lower limbs held out. My leg shot out in front of me and held me up. Not bad.

Thursday, January 20, 2022

I worked with the acupuncturist yesterday. She worked on the same areas the PTs and the chiropractor had. As she left, she asked if I'd been doing stretching exercises. No, I had not been doing them regularly. I did them in the morning before rising if my ankle was bothering me. I found a way to incorporate the stretch into my walk. I led by putting the edge of my left heel on the ground. That effectively stretched the muscles on the back of my leg.

I felt overwhelmed by sadness. This living without Mike stinks. Sadness, deep sadness. I miss all the quiet moments sitting together while doing our own things: smiles we gave to one another (Right out of "our song" from The Way We Were), the gentle absent-minded touches, etc., etc. What a gift to have someone you can live with comfortably in your life.

I had a Cryo appointment today. While I'm improving in many ways, I wonder if the Cryo is helping. I'm doing many things to help with my physical problems: two physical therapists, one chiropractor, and one acupuncturist. I haven't set up a controlled experiment. In addition, I don't really like the woman who does it. She's cold; conversation is limited to only what's absolutely necessary. Whether she's this way with everyone or only with me is irrelevant. I'm not comfortable with that degree of coolness. I assume she is an introvert. Introverts are also uncomfortable with me. Worse yet, they usually judge me badly. For them, 'I don't like it' equals something wrong with whatever they don't like.

After the Cryo appointment, I stopped off at Costco. I needed lemons desperately. Walking was a challenge. I only had a little to pick up. Before I got online, a man slid in front of me with a loaded cart. I was fine with the wait. It was an opportunity to read more of the Corfu Trilogy on my Kindle.

After adolescent D's mom told D that while D could retell a story, he couldn't say what the story was about. That makes sense. He does an excellent job inferring; he doesn't do as well job summarizing. That latter requires abstract thinking skills. Another deficit illuminated. So many deficits; so little time to address them. In response, I prepared Barnell Loft materials from their "Getting the Main Ideas" series. Let's see how it goes. Do I regret not having done this sooner? No. I have learned there's a time for everything. If I had addressed this problem and his word recognition skills, there's a good chance he would never have come out of hiding.

We made some progress with visual processing today. There have been flashes where D spells a word correctly that he had to remember visually. You can't spell English words correctly if you rely on the sounds alone. Visual recall is a must. Today, I had him write a word on his forehead to get it into his visual working memory. He said it doesn't look the same as when he sees it on the page. This is a fantastic statement. He revealed he was really 'seeing' the words in his head. God forbid the mental image of an object we see with our eyes is the same as what we perceive with our imagination. That's schizophrenia. While the distinction between objects perceived through our eyes differs from those we recall, there may also be a difference between those images and objects we conjure up and imagine. We know that imagining, remembering, and problem-solving all occur in working memory. What a crowd!

D was more energetic than I had ever seen him before. I suspected that the school tutor was a young woman. An adolescent boy plus a somewhat attractive, gentle, interested fertile female, need I say more? If that helps, I'm all for it.

I gave D the 2 D versus 3D lecture I received as part of my Orton-Gillingham training. 3D images don't depend on orientation, while 2 D images do. If I write the letter u upside down, it is no longer a u; it's an n. However, suppose I look at a photograph or painting of a room filled with jumbled furniture. In that case, a chair is still a chair, regardless of its spatial orientation. It's not 2 D versus 3D; it's symbols versus objects. The object has to exist in the real world. Symbols are always abstract. Written symbols are always 2D, and their spatial orientation determines their meaning.

I spoke with Paulette. Periodically, she'll talk about her ongoing sadness about the loss of her husband. Her Mike died several years before mine. He also had kidney disease. He died of it. My Mike's pancreatitis trumped his kidney disease. We talked about how we missed the casual affection. Are we better or worse being among those who need affection and were so lucky to find mates whose need for affection matched our own? Paulette has certain ongoing intimacies, living with Judy and Howard, which I don't have. Every day they ask each other how they are. It could be, "Did you sleep well? How are you doing today? etc." At least she has that. The only person who asks me how I am regularly is Judy. Others are concerned about my emotional well-being, but I speak to them less frequently.

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Adolescent D will have a tutor provided by the public school system. This has been in the works for a while. Initially, I was going to be hired by the school. After a lengthy period of misunderstanding and mishaps, I was told I wasn’t going to be hired; ‘They were going to use someone on their staff.” The head of the Special Ed. Department knew nothing about this. Eventually, it came out. The DOE had contracted a tutoring company. I looked up that company. They were advertising tutors for $10 an hour. Given the company had to take its cut, the tutor couldn’t be making more than $8 an hour. I couldn’t imagine a trained teacher working for that money. The woman assigned to D spoke to his mom sometime before Christmas. She contacted her again recently to set up the schedule. She is a trained teacher with special ed credentials. Fantastic! D’s mom forwarded the tutor’s email to me. I sent the new tutor an email offering her my report. She responded this morning by asking an intelligent question.

I had an appointment with Shelly today. I was in full-blown grief. This feeling was very familiar. I remember feeling this way before my sister was born. There was something wrong in my family that left me feeling that way. I have always attributed it to my mother, who not only did not show affection but brutally rejected my attempts to show her affection. I have a clear image of reaching up to kiss her cheek and her throwing me off in disgust. As far as I can make out, all forms of physical contact were sexual for her.

There was a second issue with my mother. She wouldn’t allow me to do anything. I recently saw a video of my 2½-year-old grandnephew vacuuming the Christmas tree needles. Did he do a perfect job? Was he yelled at for doing a perfect job? I assure you not. His parents allow him to explore, try new things, and do the best his 2 ½-year-old self can do. They know they can finish the job. When allowing him to try, they are doing their job as parents, not as housekeepers delegating work. My mother wouldn’t allow me to participate because I couldn’t do a good job.

I hoped the situation would change when my sister was born. I hoped they would allow me to participate since I was older. Forget it. It was clear from day one that it was not going to happen. I was an object to care for, not a human being.

I was feeling sorry for myself. Shelly said we’ve done a lot of work on it. This should be pretty well resolved. I get images to represent my feelings. My image was of a two-story house representing this sorrow. I told Shelly only the roofing shingles were gone; the rest of the structure was intact. Then the image was revised. The whole roof was gone.

I saw what I have come to learn is shiplap siding. I started with the plank at the upper left of the front of the house, in tribute to The Art of Motor Cycle Maintenance. I pulled on the plank. The nails were somewhat rusted and deeply embedded. I could feel the effect in my chest. I didn’t feel pain comparable to having nails pulled out of my chest. That would not be good. The pulling created sensation but not actual pain. One particularly long ‘nail’ passed to the left of my heart and hooked around my spine. I associated it with the grasp my father had on me. I was ambivalent about disengaging. It was a secure relationship. I think you can say I have daddy issues. I persuaded him to undo the hook. The part that curled around my spine had to be straightened out. As he and I allowed it, the hook unfurled. Once it was straight, the handle end moved to the left, so the hook no longer wrapped around the spine, and the whole thing could be removed. It was pulled out from a spot under my left arm that is a constant source of pain. We’ll see how this plays out.

The use of images, as described above, is something I use with clients in my healing work. Sometimes the client generates the images; more often, I do. They only work if the image resonates with them. As the image is transformed, something transforms within the person. If nothing else, it’s relaxing. Relaxation is a measure of the work. If it’s relaxing, we’re probably doing something right.

I had Kea’s crew. Not one of the three had thought of something to write about. However, they enjoyed receiving the printed version of their stories in the mail, each in their own envelope addressed to them. Getting stories out of them was like pulling nails. (It was only as I was editing this entry that I caught the irony of this description of my work with them and my description of myself.) I need a relatively easy client to work with, with whom improvement is somewhat consistent.

Today I also discovered that one of the twins is agrammatic. That doesn’t mean she speaks ungrammatically, speaking a local colloquial version of English. No, it means she puts sentences together as no English speaker does. English is her native language. Her mother speaks a perfectly good version of standard conversational English.

I had an acupuncture appointment today. I went to the front of the house to help her open the heavy wooden gate before I heard from her. The acupuncturist was running later than I expected. Standing there caused pain in my leg. I leaned against the rock wall and cracked my back. That relieved the nerve pain in my leg. This suggests that my back may be the cause for any pain I have in my leg rather than my hip. Besides, the Achilles tendon is bothering me the most now.

I spoke to adolescent D’s mother at length today. I asked her when she first noticed he was having problems. She said, looking back at it, she recognized there were signs now. The school assured her that he would be fine by third grade. She said he would sit in class, lost in his own thoughts. She thinks they should have engaged him. I think she’s thinking about doing something he was interested in. I think he was so perceptually impaired that he couldn’t accurately perceive what was happening around him. While his eyes and ears are just fine, his perceptual system is so impaired it makes hearing and seeing the world accurately difficult. Because he couldn’t perceive what was going on, he retreated into his mind, his reality. She gave me other information she hadn’t shared with me before. Alarming. I don’t know how this kid will ever function normally.

The other day, the mother asked me to switch to Tuesday and Thursday from Monday and Wednesday because he would be involved in another activity. The other activity wound up being the tutor the school assigned. One has to wonder why she didn’t tell me that. Perhaps she’s afraid I will feel jealous or hurt or insulted. Who knows! I’m primarily glad we have someone else on board to help. I hope she will work with me instead of just using me for information. That’s my fate. Having to work alone. That makes me very sad.

I watched more of Midsomer Murders tonight. It’s not entirely satisfying, but it’s okay. Good drama might be satisfying, but I can’t stand anything stressful. So much for good drama.

Tuesday, January 18, 2022

I woke with trouble on my mind. Something I thought had been resolved was not. It's not directly my problem. It becomes mine because I'm involved in a relationship with the other person. They assured me there would be no problem. I wondered how they could be so sure but didn't dare ask. They're uncomfortable when you don't think what they think, at least not when I don't think what they think. An unfortunate relationship. I tried to calm myself, reframing the options. "What I envision may not happen. Even if it does, the outcome may be better than I fear." I slept most of the night.

My ankle was throbbing a little this morning before I got up. Although it didn't bother me much when I got up to pee during the night. When I finally got up for the day, I had severe discomfort in the mid-calf rather than the ankle.

I checked the stats on my blog after I posted today's entry. There were over 2,000 visitors from Israel yesterday; there were zero today. How does that happen? It must be some computer glitch. While it seemed weird that many people signed on at once, it's even stranger that they simultaneously disappeared.

I also checked visitors to my YouTube videos on the Phonics Discovery System. There were twice as many viewers for the Phase I video than the Phase II. Most viewers aren't very impressed after watching Phase I. The number of viewers of the Phase II video is half as much. Although half isn't a bad statistic either.

I worked on the updates. My body and head were abuzz with fear. I called both my Jeans. Neither was available. Jean, my hanai sister, was wrestling with terrible pain. She will have her back operation on the 21st, one day before her birthday. Lord, I hope this works for her. You hear so much about failed back surgery. I haven't said anything because I know there is nothing to say. Her view of the body is not the same as mine. I want to find a different way out than surgery – if possible. I'm prepared to work on myself to an unusual degree. Her thought is, "Fix me." She doesn't see herself as having any agency in this arena.

Jean, my friend in Arizona, said that she was with a client and would call me back. She did, but she was also in terrible pain. She was passing a kidney stone. She had a partial procedure last week, I believe. Time has never been my strong suit. She has been trying to get hold of the doctor ever since. He hasn't reached out to her or called her back. Ow! What is that about?

When I finally did get hold of her and told her how scared I was, she recommended I reread the first two chapters of When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron. I did that. It was just what the doctor ordered. It spoke about fear being a universal emotion; even plants respond when in danger. It reminded me that step one in a bad situation is to make friends with our fear. Embrace it and have compassion for that part of ourselves that is helpless in the face of what scares us.

I had a 1 pm appointment with my PT, Terry. She used instruments on my sore foot, ankle, and calf problems. She wanted to use a cold laser, but someone hadn't charged it. I think she used a RSI gadget. It chirped when it went over painful areas and was quiet over areas that were okay. As she continued to use it, the chirping slowed down. Then she used this gorgeous jade stone, rubbing it up and down my calf muscles. This is an older form of Graston, whose tools cost over $2000.

I offered to buy one of those jade stones for Yvette. No, thanks. They're porous and can contain bacteria. Yvette is meticulously clean. When she comes up to visit, I look at how I keep my home and myself and dread to think of what must be going through her mind. I told her. She said no worries. That concern for germs only applied to her work setting. She was more relaxed at home by a long shot.

As always, I had a session with adolescent D. I started asking him if he did any reading in school today. Yes, in history class. Did he understand what he read? Not really. He couldn't figure out the longer words. In our last session, I told him to underline the vowel letters if nothing else. He didn't understand what I meant. I wrote the word observation and asked him to identify the vowel letters. He said, "I, and e." Wow! That took my breath away. We worked on this procedure for months while working on the 8th-grade material. He did alright. I don't know what I said, but he spit out the vowel letters defensively. "A, e, i, o, and u." I was thrilled. He said, "I know the vowel letters." He didn't when we started, or he didn't remember. I told him I knew he knew. I was thrilled he remembered. Then back to identifying all the vowel letters. He still had to struggle. However, on a good note, he did remember that -tion is a weird separate situation. He remembered what sound it represented. This boy is so impaired. We have made some progress, but I don't hold much hope of his living a normal life as an adult.

Isaac came to my door to pick me up for our evening walk. Lutz joined us. For some reason, the topic of interpersonal relationships came up. Ah, I described someone's behavior. Isaac reminded me that I believed all behavior was selfishly motivated. Lutz joined in with, "While all people are selfish, some relationships are symbiotic, and some are parasitic." He came up with the terms that I have been struggling to find. Of course, me being me, I see everything on a continuum. Most relationships are a mixture of the two, even changing from minute to minute. All our relationships are a mixture of both. We can only know how we affect others by asking. We can't assume. I have done things for others I thought were good and weren't received. Others have done something for me that they thought was good, and I didn't see it that way. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Monday, January 17, 2022

My ankle felt good when I got up. I took a short walk with Elsa before it started bothering me.

I needed to shower early this morning. I had to leave the house by 7:30 to make my 8 am chiropractic appointment.

Showering this morning was a challenge. When the bathroom was built, the contractor put in a heating element. He said we would need it in the winter. It was below 60 last night. When I walked at 6:30, the Weather Channel said the temperature was 64 degrees. That was at the airport. The temperature there is a good five degrees warmer than where we are.

I had once turned the heating element on in all the years I've lived here. I could see the dust accumulated on the vent. Periodically, I promised myself I would clean the element; it was a fire hazard. Today I finally did it. I had to haul the Rainbow vacuum cleaner from the lanai into the bathroom. I used the hard surface dusting attachment. It didn't do much good, but it did something. I turned on the fan. That would blow some of the dirt out. I turned the water on long before I got in the shower to fill the area with warm steam. During the day, it's warm enough outside for me to get in before the water is even hot. Not today. Today I wanted it steaming hot before I stepped in.

I brought the MELT balls in from the lanai dining room table to use in the bathroom, so I didn't have to leave the built-up warmth provided by the heating element and the hot water.

I made it to the chiropractor's just in mine. I pulled into a parking space precisely at 8 am. Kim worked on my ankle and foot again. She's wonderful. She thinks I'm funny and appreciates my feedback. She values my body awareness and follows my lead. I felt something was happening in the foot that contributed to the problem. When she felt the bottom of my foot, she discovered that the bones related to the two smaller toes were tight. There was an area of tight fascia she hadn't anticipated.

I was in my car, leaving the chiropractor's by 8:50. I thought my PT appointment with Katie was at 10. I had time to go to the Roasted Toasted Café for a morning treat. I checked my calendar to make sure. It wasn't clear what time the appointment was. I called. Good thing I did. The appointment was for 9 am. I was right around the corner and made it there in plenty of time.

Katie, the PT, found swelling on the bottom of my foot. She did some stretching and strengthening exercises for the foot and the muscles running up the legs. The only part of my body that is loose is the muscles of my left foot. My leg and back muscles are tight. They have always been tight. I have always been a mess. Katie gave me a series of exercises to release the fascia, which connects the feet, the abdomen, and the neck. After all that work, the muscles inside my left thigh are bothering me again. Sometimes, I feel like just giving up. THR may not even solve my problems because they are different.

I went to the Roasted Toasted Café after my PT appointment. I didn't order my loved Greek salad sandwich; I ordered one with egg and avocado. I shared an outdoor table with a man and a woman. It was clear the man was much older than she was. At first, I thought they might be husband and wife. After listening to their conversation, I decided they were father and daughter or even an elderly man with his caretaker. They were in Hawaii for a week, visiting from Alaska. They had been to Hilo and some parts of the island's southeastern corner, but they had missed the volcano. The woman asked me if there was one here in Kona. Thank God, no. Love the way our volcano is viewed as a Disney attraction. When it's just rumbling along, it is. However, all our mountains carry the threat of taking us out.

When my egg and avocado sandwich arrived, it was covered with bacon crumbles. Yuck! I hate bacon. The Alaskan woman helped by scraping it off my sandwich onto hers. So Hawaii! Thank God I live here.

As I walked to the car, I missed Mike in a way I hadn't before. I could picture him walking slightly behind me and heading to the car's passenger side. I miss having someone to walk to the car with.

When I got home, I had bad leg and back pain. Today, Katie, my PT, recommended a series of exercises. First, she showed me pictures of skeletons with fascia lines. One showed how neck fascia related to my left ankle, and another showed how it related to tension around my diaphragm. What the heck. What did I have to lose? Wow! I got immediate relief. One of the exercises was a spinal twist, the one I do in the yoga class twice a week. One I had never seen before. I pressed down on my collarbone and then did standard neck stretches. Wow! on that one. Pushing down on the collarbone causes the shoulders to drop. I have never heard of that relationship before. I just heard instructions to drop my shoulders. Pushing down on my collarbone makes a big difference.

I met with the M & W sisters. M wouldn't read anything unfamiliar. She wrote a new story. I hope she will read that next time, allowing me to use it to work on her decoding skills. W wrote another story with me. She did better on her dictation speed, taking my need to get it down into consideration before she dictated the next sentence.

Sunday, January 16, 2022

Slept well, deeply, and untroubled, ready to take life as it comes instead of worrying about possible negative outcomes. My ankle felt good when I got up during the night, and then it bothered me right before it was time to get up. I did the ankle stretch Kim, my chiropractor, did with me. It caused cramping, but it felt better afterward.

I did a short walk before the ankle started bothering me. I found it felt best if I turn my feet in completely. I have no idea why I was like this. It’s almost as if I had a club foot. Judy and Paulette were pulling out at Mei’s as I came home. They had a car to pick up from the airport. Judy waved her gloved hands at me. It was cold out. We’ve been running high fifties to low sixties during the night.

I finally checked Tommy’s email with the links to my videos and posted them on the blog site. I am convinced most of the visitors to my blog site are reading it as part of a class assignment, probably students who are learning English. All my German visitors disappeared at once. Then the Indonesians dominated, then the Turks, and then the USA topped the list.

I looked for the writing of Fifth grade W. I couldn’t find one piece we spent a lot of time on. Have no idea why. I went through all the files with her writing. I deleted some with fragments. I marked some for further development that I hadn’t pursued. The completed ones I ran through Grammarly and sent them to her mom. I will have to tell her to give her daughter copies. I suspect she’s just concerned about getting her daughters’ performance up to speed. She doesn’t realize she’s causing some of the problems with her tiger mom approach. No joy there.

My friend Jean from Arizona and I finally connected. We’re both having family problems. We talked about what it means to take things personally. It’s an expression therapists use I hate. Someone did something to me, and I shouldn’t take it personally. I beg your pardon. It can be interpreted that we shouldn’t assume something is wrong with us just because someone has treated us badly. That definition of not taking it personally works. But what someone does to me, regardless of reason, impacts me. I never found therapists who clarified that difference. It was just a meme they threw out to see what would stick.

Among other problems with this approach, we are programmed to take other people’s bad behavior toward us personally. Our brains evolved when we were living in small hunter-gatherer groups. Those bands had strict rules of conduct. If someone consistently failed to conform to expectations, either because of a handicap or because they were bucking the system, they were in trouble. That response, generally a shame response, warns us that we are in danger. It creates discomfort so we can change. If we didn’t change, our lives could be in danger, as surely as they were when we were severely injured. Shame and physical pain both warn us that we are in danger.

Here’s an example of something Mike “did to me.” I’ve written about this before. During a family therapy session between Mike and me, he broke down crying and declared, “When we cross a street, I just want to push her in front of a car.” This is what he did not do: 1) ever push me at all, no less in front of a moving car, 2) he didn’t blame me for the way he felt. Therefore, I did not take his feeling personally. Quite on the contrary, my heart went out to him. How sad to have to live with that kind of rage inside. I knew it was because of his mother. He didn’t endorse those feelings for other women.

I went out to finish the shopping I started on Saturday but didn’t have time. At Target, I looked for an external keyboard for the tablet. I got an employee immediately. I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. Tommy had talked about a plug-in keyboard. This was a Bluetooth. I decided I’d look at Office Max to see if they had more variety. While at Target, I picked up a mild salsa, and I looked for masks. Good luck! Everyone is out of masks. I bought two packages of cloth masks. None of them fit well. What’s the point? The one my sister made for me fit the best and looked the best. Too bad it’s ripped now and useless.

I went over to Office Max. Again, I got an employee immediately. Most unusual. They had the same brand as Target, Logitech. I bought one on sale. When I got it home, I was surprised to discover it wasn’t rechargeable. It has a two-year battery.

I finished Merton’s Seven Story Mountain and started Batchor’s The Art of Solitude. I tried getting back into The Writer’s Journey. It’s not my thing for now. I’m not into developing stories at that level. Judy recommended it. She’s writing a book of historical fiction. It’s about the Parker family, one of the haole founders of Hawaii, establishing a haole dynasty and making the Hawaiians second-class citizens. It’s too much information for me right now.

Wednesday, January 28, 2026

Saturday, January 15, 2022

I had a poor night's sleep. I woke up around 12:30 after going to bed relatively late; sometime after 10 pm, I was in distress. Grief is hitting hard, and aspects of my surrounding circumstances haven't been good. I was agitated. All that was currently bad might sort out in the future. I got up and read.

I had just finished Gladwell's David and Goliath. Someone had recommended it. The book didn't do anything for me. At the optometrist's office, I started the Corfu Trilogy. Lawrence Durrell was an award-winning writer. I wasn't expecting much from his younger brother, Gerald. Boy, was I wrong! He writes beautifully. His language is rich with imagery- my type of poetry. I read for a while and could fall back to sleep. I woke up periodically, was agitated, fell back asleep, etc. Not too bad for a less-than-wonderful situation.

Among other concerns, I clearly saw Elsa running out in the street, getting in front of that truck to stop it. Thank God Lutz was there to grab it and pull her away. I could have avoided that situation if I had locked her retractable leash. It didn't occur to me till sometime in the night.

One good note: my ankle was pain-free all night, and I could walk on it without discomfort in the morning. After my morning walk, things weren't quite as good. The old pain returned, and the ankle swelled up. However, the chiropractic treatment made a difference; that offered hope this was just a temporary problem.

I tried to call both Jean's this morning. Neither was available.

I met with the W & M sisters. First-grade M told me she got a horse and talked excitedly about it. I asked her if she wanted to write about it. She said no and got downcast. I asked why. Her first response was she didn't know what to say. I told her about writer's block; even professional writers have problems. She declared professional writers never made mistakes. I told her about editors. I managed to pull the story out of her with ease. It' was not an organized story, but it included good details.

After she wrote the story, I had her read an unfamiliar text. She did okay with the first five words. Then she hit the word duck. She confused the d with a b and balked. I couldn't get her to do it anymore. I talked about being scared of making a mistake. She said she wasn't scared. I called her mom when the hour was over to encourage her to find a therapist. What scares me is her refusal to acknowledge she's scared. Does she deny it to me, or does she deny it to herself, too?

I decided fifth-grade W" s descriptive piece was okay. It wasn't scintillating, but it held together. However, when she reread it, she made a good half dozen errors, skipping words. She was back to not reading accurately. Good God, I have had a slew of complex cases.

On one of my midday walks, I ran into Isaac. I usually only see him around the dinner hour. We make a point of walking together if we're both available. I don't know what we were talking about that inspired his comment, "If I'm going to be killed, it will be for being an Adventist." Isaac belongs to the church of Seventh-Day Adventists. He told me that they talk about end time in his church. They identify with the Huguenots for their persecution in France and talk about federally mandated Sunday church services. I chimed in, "If I'm going to be killed, it will either be for being half-Jewish or Catholic." We started a new party game. "If I'm going to be killed, it will be for. . . . ."

I had adolescent D at 11:30. He got on late. He texted he was in the bathroom. Because the tablet was on the fritz, I used my Mac ProBook Air. I ran into all sorts of technical problems. I had to shut down and send a new invite.

I started the session as always, asking him if he did any reading in school. Yes. In English class. Did he understand what he read? Not really. Did he need help with the longer words? Yes. Was the material something he could write on? Yes. "Underline all the vowel letters when you see long words you can't read." That won't guarantee he reads the word, but it's step one.

We started a new paragraph today. D read better at the 2nd-grade level. He did pretty well with the spelling. One sentence was, "Catch the ball." I reviewed the spelling before he dictated the sentence to me, spelling each word. Could he spell the word all? Yes. Put a b in front of it for ball. It was not a problem. For catch, I went over /ch/=tch. He didn't remember. I reviewed it again. When I moved to the space on the page where he couldn't see the word written. He got it wrong again. Wow! This poor kid. How does he even understand what most people say with such poor retention? His sensory processing is way off. That he can appear normal to anyone is remarkable. His hiding strategy may be the best under the circumstances.

I encouraged him to listen to The Phonics Discovery System 5 Stories tape. While I couldn't guarantee it would work, it was worth trying. No, he wasn't resistant. He just couldn't remember. Did he brush his teeth every night? No. He couldn't remember. OMG! That he's as functional as he is is a miracle. When I have trouble remembering, I create little reminders for myself. I suggested he tape an old toothbrush to the bathroom mirror as a reminder; also that he set his alarm clock for bedtime to remind him to turn on the tape. I was not optimistic.

We went back to the spelling of -tch. Wrong again. I got an idea. How about applying the homunculus idea, which I use so the conscious mind can communicate with the unconscious mind. I have only used it so far for the conscious mind to inform the nonconscious that a situation isn't dangerous. Today, I used it to get information from the surface of the sensory-perceptual system into the working or long-term memory. It worked.- I hope. At any rate, he remembered the -tch spelling. Amazing.

I left immediately after the session. I needed to go to Petco. I wanted to drop off several boxes of liquid flea and tick protection to Kares. When I called the other day to find out where to deliver the donations, the woman told me they would be a Petco on Friday until 2 pm. I've switched Elsa to the pill because her skin is irritated by the liquid protection. I also needed to pick up more dental chews for her. They're her before-bedtime treat. She had to do without yesterday.

I walked into the Petco and asked where Kares was. "Across the parking lot." Damn. My ankle hurt. I didn't want to walk that far. I found some dental chews and geared up to get to the Kares setup. Instead, I got in my car and drove to that spot. Absolute genius! I didn't even have to get out of the car. I asked for a receipt. I could get one by email. I wrote my information on the paper bag containing the flea and tick protection boxes.

I wanted to do additional shopping while down there but didn't have the time. I had an appointment with the stem cell folks at 1 pm. Everything takes more time than I expect. I've never been very good at estimating time. I made it to the appointment with time to spare, but not much.

Steve, the doctor who does the stem cell procedure, was an orthopedic surgeon. He said he got tired of not really helping people. I'll believe that's half of his reason. The other: he got sick and tired of all the hard work involved in surgery and wanted an easier gig that made good money. All he has to do now is stick a long needle into my hip. Today was the last supplementary treatment that came with the stem cell infusion package. I had appointments every three months for the year, alternating between ozone and platelet injections. Today was the latter. I asked Steve about my ankle. Was it a result of my needing a THR, or was it a result of all the improvements I made? If the latter, a THR would only make the ankle worse. He emphasized the need for rest, which I have been avoiding. Can you imagine? This ankle problem hit 23 days before I met my 360 days straight of 10,000 steps. It took me several days before I could let go of that. Now, I had to accept that I had to find some other form of exercise in the interim.

On my way home, I stopped at Alan's house to get his number so Mei could speak to him. Earlier in the day, when Isaac and I were standing on the street talking, Mei came rushing out to me. They were having a rock wall built. They wanted a high one. Their contractor told them he could build one five feet and ten inches. It would have to be permitted at six feet, which would take four to six weeks. Today, the contractor announced he would only build a four-foot wall because of a new ruling requiring permitting for walls over four feet. Mei was beside herself. They need a high wall to hide all their Turo cars. They plan to have fifteen. They also checked the contractor's information. There hadn't been a new ruling affecting permits in the last three months. The contractor was lying.

I told Mei about Alan, who lived around the corner, had a high rock wall built. She should speak to him. She called to tell me he wasn't home when she went around there. I stopped by on my way home, hoping to catch him. He was home and put his number into my phone, which I promptly sent to Mei.

I rested for an hour and a half after I got home. Then I went up to Judy's. I met up with Judy and Howard on their wonderful lanai. Aside from all the pleasure I get from being with Judy, Howard, and Paulette, I had a special high moment. I remembered Mike's foibles and how I felt about them. My heart filled with love. Many of his foibles made me smile. I got this huge grin on my face. I could feel my face smiling and my eyes shining with love and humor. Why is it that he made me feel that way? I thought he was just the cutest, sweetest thing on the planet. I doubt I would feel that way about someone else behaving toward me the way he did. Hmmm! I feel that way about Damon often. You're not to think I forgive all their offenses with such loving kindness. No, I'm not that good- sadly, sadly for me. It feels so good to be so forgiving. I miss feeling that way. I don't think of missing Mike. I miss the me I was around Mike. I miss being someone who loved that much. I often told him that. "I love you so much; it's just plain silly."

I started watching the latest version of All Creatures Great and Small. Then Herriot had to put down a horse. I couldn't stand the tension. I found Midsomer Murders. Mike and I used to watch it together. I was not quite as satisfying as the Durrells in Corfu, which was the best, but it is good enough.

January 14, 2022

I had my weekly session with Shelly, my therapist/life coach. I worked on the function of anger in my life. Yesterday, as I was driving to the optometrist, the question, "What is the value of anger in my life?" came to mind. I know it has a function. It would have been extinguished from our emotional palate long ago if it didn't. More to the point, what was the value of how I used anger? Shelly said it makes us feel powerful, especially when we feel weak. Each of us has to ask ourselves, "Does my habit of listening to fear and anger serve me at this point in my life?" There are specific questions to be asked.

My mother lived with me for the last eighteen years of her life. One day she said something about not being the same person she was when she was younger. She didn't say what she was referring to but used some words that made me think she was referring to her frequent outbursts of anger. She wasn't sure becoming less angry was a good thing. I'm about the same age she was at the time. I have always battled with my anger. While I have improved over the years, I have never achieved my goal. I know I hated that behavior in my mother. Her violent verbal assaults were terrifying. I didn't want to do that to anyone else. Mike got it the most, although he never got the worst. When someone scares me, that's when it gets bad. I hate it in myself. Besides not liking the impact on other people, I also feel it weakens my position. Ah, yes. That's the other end of this behavior. I could see my mother coming. My dad was quiet and manipulative; he snuck up on me. I didn't want to be like him either. There must be a pathway between.

Poor Damon had to hear me complain. I asked him if he could take it. It became clear the other day he couldn't. He feels he has to do something. Not good. He advised me to avoid repeating the same complaints; it does no good. Here's the problem: I have found solutions when I dwell on a negative subject; sometimes, a way out appears. Is the opposite of struggling to give up and live in hopelessness? Can I have hope unsupported by anger? The image that came to mind was me floating in choppy waters while holding on to some flotation device; the water splashed into my face, filling my mouth. I saw it as the final scene from the movie The Truman Show. My experience was being observed or orchestrated by someone else.

I left for my chiropractor appointment right after getting off the phone with Shelly. I was hoping the problem with my left foot and ankle was a misalignment problem. Yes, misalignment may have something to do with the hip. Her treatment is likely to work. She used her little popper to hit certain spots in my foot. While the foot still hurt and was swollen, it didn't hurt as badly as it had. I was hoping, praying it was a temporary situation. The chiropractor said the problem with my ankle may result from my hip. Even if it is coming from the hip: is the problem the tightness of the hip, or the increasing movement in the hip is a result of everything I've done? It's clear; there is more movement in the hip. I bought a package of five treatments and made two appointments for next week.

I drove up to Judy and Paulette's for a visit. I spent more time with Judy's husband, Howard. I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation. When I drove home, I passed Lutz completing his final round for the night. I parked the car on the street because we've been keeping the front gate closed. The chain-link fence that separated the upper driveway from the lower and confined Yvette's dogs was broken. The front gate is a heavy wooden thing the width of a two-lane road running on a bent metal bar. I asked Lutz if he could help me with the gate. He waited while I got out of the car. I had Elsa with me. She loves to visit when I go up to Judy and Paulette's because they have a cat. Ah, cats! When I opened the door, Elsa charged out towards a car coming down the road. I saw Lutz grabber her retractable leash, which was in full extension. He told me she got in front of the car and lined herself up with the wheels. If he hadn't pulled her back, the driver might not have been able to stop in time. I wondered what Elsa would do if she had the chance. Now I know. I had hoped she would just run alongside the vehicle. Guess not. Scary.

I tried to start up the tablet again. I had the same problem as I had the other day. I couldn't get the keyboard to respond. I tried the trick Tommy told me; I detached the tablet from the keyboard and reattached it. No good. He came over again. He looked at the keyboard and declared, "It's old." What do you mean? It's only five or six years old. Really? Old? He advised me to pick up an external keyboard from Target. I can get one for $20.

Tommy also said the addresses he sent me for my videos were good. If I used them, I would find myself in the middle of the video because that's where I left off. However, if someone viewed the videos for the first time, they would see it from the beginning. He said he sent me an email with the correct addresses.

Elsa came to me to be picked up without the benefit of a firecracker going off. She relaxes in my arms these days. Most accurately, she wraps herself around my neck like a stole.

She stayed there while I wrote on the computer. I moved her to my lap. I have a dog that acts like a cat. I don't know if this is good or bad. She sat on my left arm as I typed, blocking my view of the screen with her head. We all have our own priorities.

I haven't been reading much of Brainscapes, even though I'm in the most interesting section. We use the same part for imagining and solving math problems. It's the working memory part of the brain. Fascinating!

Thursday, January 13, 2022

Wow! I slept straight through to 5 am. I didn't get up once to pee during the night. I probably didn't drink enough water yesterday.

My calf muscles were tight. That problem was coming from the hip or the back. As I sat in my old lady chair working on the blog posting for the 13th, I could feel spasms traveling down my leg from my glutes. Oh, boy. I haven't had this for a while now. It may be possible that even the ankle problem is coming from the hip. If that's the case, it is time for a THR.

I meditated for an hour. I was no longer in a thoroughly agitated state of mind, but I was still unhappy with certain aspects of my life. I have been clearing out people with whom I cannot negotiate changes. My mom was like that. Everything had to be her way, or she was devastated. When I told her she was hurting me with constant criticism, she told me I was saying that to hurt her. It was a dead-end. One person in my life said she couldn't take any criticism. Now that's an honest response. I understand where she is coming from. I know her family. It was a nest of control freaks who always had to be right. If you didn't see it their way, something was wrong with you. I have worked my ass off not to be that person myself. I hated it in my mother.

I had a Cryo appointment at 10:45. I had problems with my calendar. I couldn't find the entry for the Cryo. I received several email reminders but couldn't find them. I texted and called the place but got no reply. I finally found the email and made it to the appointment by 10:45.

Today I had a full body treatment and a local on my ankle. I have trouble communicating with the woman who runs the Cryo. We're like bumper cars. I feel anger from her. She may be an angry person in general. She has a smooth, controlled veneer, but I feel no warmth from her. It's like a joke: no warmth from someone who dispenses cold. My skin temperature today dropped to 52. I said it was colder immediately after she took my temperature. She said no, it was the same as always. I said it was 55 last time and 52 today. I was confused why that wasn't colder. I'm really not as swift as I used to be. It took me a few minutes to figure out that she was referring to the temperature of the nitrogen and not my skin.

I always ask a lot of questions. I like to understand what is happening. Some people love that trait; some people hate it. I don't know where this woman lands on this subject.

I left the Cryo around 11:20. I had an appointment with the optometrist at noon. I thought I would have time to stop at the Club's café to pick up one of those delicious open Greek salad sandwiches. I didn't have time if I wanted to make it to the optometrist by noon. I headed out.

As I suspected, there was no hurry. I had a long wait before being seen. My time was well spent. I finished Gladwell's David and Goliath on my kindle.

The optometrist's receptionist doubles as a tech. She did several procedures to test my eyes before Meali'inani saw me. I told her I heard she was expecting. They have two small dogs. One is pregnant. Meali'inani showed me a picture of the event. She had just texted Sandor the female was in heat. She caught them in the act an hour later and snapped that shot. In two weeks, they will have puppies. A dog's gestation is only two months. Amazingly, a living thing can be produced so quickly.

Meali'inani and Sandor were not expecting to be parents. Of course, it's a little naïve to think otherwise when you have an unneutered male and an unneutered female in the same house. That reminded me of one of my favorite jokes.

A vet visited an elderly woman in her home to check on her cat. The woman had noticed a swelling in the abdominal area. Something was clearly wrong. The vet checked her and said,: "She's pregnant." The woman said, "She can't be. She' never goes out of this house." At that point, a large tom came out from under the sofa. The vet asked, "What about him?" the woman exclaimed in horror, "He's her brother!!"

My eyes have been doing a little better of late. They don't get blurry quite as fast. However, my macula pucker is worse. I had my extra set of glasses made into a progressive bifocal with blue coating for reading and computer use to relieve the eye strain. I had to pick out a new frame for my second pair of regular glasses in case something happened to the ones I usually wore. Instead of being a progressive trifocal, these will be bifocal too, just far and near. The last time I picked frames, Mike was with me.

Meali'inani ordered drops for my eyes which might help with the macula pucker. She asked what pharmacy I usually used, Long's or Costco. I answered Costco. This is an example of the flaws in my mental processing. It didn't occur to me to say "KP," where I usually get my meds. I stopped off at Long's on my way home. Long's doesn't accept KP insurance. These were expensive. I want to get the drugs through KP before paying for them out of pocket. I don't know if KP accepts prescriptions from non-KP doctors. Looks like I'm going to find out.

I watched a documentary on Linda Ronstadt. She had some voice. I love her work. Then I started watching Masterpiece Theater's new version of All Creatures Great and Small. Mike and I watched the older version many years ago.

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

I took all the supports off my ankle. I tried to reapply the KT tape before I went to bed. It was all messed up in the morning. I can walk fairly well if I hold the walking stick in my left hand, supporting the full range of motion in my right hip and leg. That allows me to keep my body symmetrical and put my ankle through more range of motion.

I felt a little lost in the morning. This has been coming for a while. I have experience with it being the darkest before dawn. If I can sit with it peacefully, I can make it to the other side in better shape than ever.

Yesterday, poor Damon had to ask me not to complain about something going wrong in my life. I agreed with him. I have said something to him before about having to draw a halt to something that makes him uncomfortable. Now that I know how he feels, I have to make more effort to not go on and on. It’s too much for him. I told him he could say, “Hey, Betts, remember our agreement,” with a rise in pitch. I will probably get scared if he says, “B-e-t-t-y,” with a lowered tone.

In the 70s, when Mike and I were first together, I was having difficulty with a commune member. I was going on and on. One morning Wednesday, Mike said, “I love you dearly. You have till Friday to fix it. After that, I don’t want to hear about it.” I found it a great relief.

Damon pointed out that my complaints were circular; they didn’t go anywhere. Unfortunately, or fortunately, sometimes I have found a solution in doing this. However, it requires a great deal of mental and emotional energy. I love to work things out. It drives me nuts when I deal with people who don’t relish the activity. I love my method. A problem between people is an opportunity to deepen the relationship, and learn more about the other person and myself.

I can’t fault those who do not want to operate this way. I see many who manage to have perfectly good lives. The function of anyone’s way of dealing with life is how well it works for them, not everyone else. Of course, if you’re dealing with downright immoral, if not illegal, behavior for others, that’s another matter. If someone’s behavior is harmful or hurtful for themselves or others, it’s time to change.

I finally managed to wash Elsa for the second time this week. Her skin condition improves with more medicinal baths.

I had a haircut appointment. I was good and ready. My mom used to say that hair doesn’t sit well if we’re not doing well, either physically or emotionally. Mine has not been looking so good.

Randee was very welcoming. I feel loved there. We all prefer to be somewhere where we’re welcome. I told her I was feeling down. I asked her about her parents. Her mom had just left her dad the last time I was in. Apparently, this separation has been forty years in the making. They’re still separated, but her mom isn’t ready to take any more action, like divorce or moving her stuff out of their shared home. Her dad sounds like he’s ready to move on. Randee’s oldest boy will turn 18 in two days. She said, “I did it. I kept someone alive for 18 years.” That is a parent’s primary goal with their child. Randee seems to have good kids.

The check from one of my clients arrived last night. I went to the bank to cash two checks, some for deposit and for cash in hand. I had this overly friendly teller. He was probably inappropriate for most people, but he was a joy to me. He talked about himself and made extra efforts to help me. I was confused. My low spirits leave me mentally not as sharp. Has there been some systemic change, or is this just a momentary dip? Being physically, mentally, or emotionally in a bad place has always impacted my sharpness ratio. Hopefully, this, too will pass.

I did some work on the Phase III video, tweaking the slides. It’s not a lot, but it’s more than nothing.

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

I was up and dozing by 3:30 again. The underlying discomfort persisted. I dreaded tutoring. I’ve had it, struggling to get people to do things they’re not good at and don’t want to do. It’s so wearing. I meditated and dozed. I always wind up dozing when I meditate. I know; you’re supposed to stay awake. Not my strong suit.

My ankle was bothering me again. Walking was difficult. I took ibuprofen. It had to be bad for me to do that.

There was a funny smell I associated with a chemical or electrical fire. I went outside to check and saw nothing. I continued a short walk on the street. When I returned to the house, I still smelled it in the laundry room and the library. This was concerning. I figured better safe than sorry and called the fire department. I went out in the street to wait for the trucks. While there, I called my neighbors across the street to tell them what was happening. Charlie answered. He said Marcia saw a truck putting out a lot of smoke on a neighboring street. That must have been the source of the burning smell. I immediately called the fire department to cancel. While I was on the phone, I could hear the trucks approaching. I told them the situation.

One of the firefighters asked if I had a Boston accent. Well! Confusing a Boston accent with my Bronx accent! Have you ever? I gave him a run for his money. It was a fun exchange. They came in to check anyway, even though I told them I found the source of the problem through my neighbor. I think the firemen get bored sitting around all day.

Half an hour after they left, Darby called to ask what was happening at my house. She saw the fire truck. She told me there had been a truck on the street running perpendicular to ours that had been spinning its wheels. A few minutes later, her house was flooded with the strong smell of diesel fuel. That must have been what I was smelling. Sorry, I don’t know the difference between a chemical and an electrical burn.

Every morning, I check the stats on the blog when I download the day’s post. The Turks had disappeared, but the Indonesians were still going strong. The simultaneous rise and fall of numbers from a region supports the theory most of my visitors are fulfilling a class assignment. They are happy to stop reading the posts once the assignment is completed.

I also checked the stats on my Phonics Discovery System videos. The numbers on Phase I are rising daily. Just one or two regularly, but that is huge. I hate to put the new version on and lose momentum. That’s what happened with the 5 stories.

My phone brought up an old photo of Mike. It must have been after his kidneys were in failure. He was asleep in bed, napping, and Elsa was lying on my side, keeping him company. I remember saying to Mike, “And the best thing about you is you’re mine.” Boy, do I miss having a person who is mine.

We’re keeping the front gate closed because there’s a problem with the chain-link fence, which keeps Yvette’s dogs confined to the lower forty. Yvette and Josh went for a medical appointment, leaving the gate open after confining the dogs in the house. I pulled my car out to the street, knowing I would have to leave later and couldn’t deal with the gate alone. I had an appointment with my PT, Terry.

I arrived at the appointment with a swollen ankle. Terry did whatever work she could. I had an appointment immediately afterward for a Cryo treatment. I requested local treatments. I needed two: one for the ankle and the second for my lower leg, the left side of my calf.

I usually have an appointment with third-grade A at three on Tuesdays. There have been several sessions when they have been a no-show. When I contacted the mom, she told me she had been busy. No apology. She puts out that I’m supposed to know whatever she has in her head, and how dare I not see it her way. Not a style I do well with.

I had sent her a message asking if everyone was okay or ghosting me. She called while I was on the phone with someone else. I had two more phone calls right after that. When I got around to calling her, I saw a text message. She told me I was ridiculous. I was unprofessional and disrespectful. I wasn’t sure what behavior she was referring to. Again, I am supposed to figure everything out without her giving details. Today, I realized A was attending a private school, not a public one. I was never told that. The public schools started on the 3rd. I assumed he would be home by the 6th. She said that was the day they traveled, and, as usual, they were very busy once they got back. She is always very busy. She said something that sounded like she was firing me. Then I got another text, to which I said, “We’re done.”

She was irritated the exchange was happening by text. There were two reasons for this: 1) I sensed she was manipulative, and 2) I didn’t do well in a verbal confrontation. I get snarky. It’s terrible. I wish I had control of it, but I get scared. It’s all irrelevant. I have wanted to quit this connection for a while: first, for all the missed sessions that weren’t canceled beforehand and for the lack of apology. Second, she was overtly uncooperative with something I recommended. I asked her to play my 5 Stories audiofile for her son. I couldn’t guarantee it would help, but I have had a surprising degree of success. It was worth trying. Given how disabled he was, I resented struggling with the parents’ overt lack of cooperation. I hope A is advanced enough that some other tutor can help him move forward.

I had problems with Mike’s tablet, which I use for tutoring sessions because it has a touch screen. I couldn’t get the external or internal keyboards to work. I called Tommy. He was out with his girlfriend and said he would stop by. How’s that for service? The problem was the connection between the screen and the keyboard. All he did was separate them, reattach and bibbity, bobbity, boo.

Tommy also explained what he had done with The Phonics Discovery System videos. When he reloaded the 5 Stories video on YouTube, the visitor count went from 195 to zero. I assumed he reentered it when he changed the title page. He made a similar change to the Phase I and Phase II videos, but he must not have reentered them because the visitor number didn’t drop. He told me he could change the title page on I and II without uploading them again. He couldn’t do that with the 5 Stories video. He told me he was impressed with my numbers. I and II are always set to start at the 6-second mark when I see the YouTube videos. Tommy said that’s just for me. If I wanted to forward the link to others, I had to make sure videos were set to zero. This is fantastic information.

I watched Our Friend last night with another outstanding performance from an Affleck, Casey. These boys are good. Both Our Friend and Tender Bar are memoirs written by journalists. They both are genuine and have quiet moments. Ah, wonderful!

Monday, January 10, 2022

My hip was great, and my ankle was better. I made it to the bathroom several times during the night without difficulty. I woke up around 3:30 and dozed until I got up at 7 am. It is so dark out at 5:30 am; I don’t like to get up unless I must. I lay there feeling an emotional discomfort, the type you can feel in your body. I’m in the middle of a shitstorm. I am facing serious problems which will affect me financially. While I have cause to feel depressed in my current situation, the loss of Mike (loss of comfortable, silent companionship, and the most delicious hugs and kisses), and Covid social restrictions, this sensation feels familiar. I remember it from when my sister was born when I was 4 ½. I remember because I had hoped the situation would improve with her birth. It didn’t. Nor did it get worse. I never resented her presence and the attention she got as an infant. My response was to become a whirling dervish. I believe I took up a lot of oxygen when I was young. I was scared to death.

I sat with sensations that felt like they were just under all the layers of the skin. It wasn’t at the surface. Is this depression part of us just waiting there to jump out when we are not busy, or are there people who are genuinely not vulnerable? Do we have to keep busy doing anything that occupies our mind: reading, gardening, listening to music, exercising, working, parenting, etc., etc.? How much of this is the human condition, and how much of it is person-specific? I don’t know how we could determine that. Some people don’t think they’re depressed, but they compulsively do something or another to cope. Anyone who watches them in action sees the psychological problem. They’re the only ones in the dark. I don’t exclude myself from the list of self-blind. Learning about myself is a lifelong project, layer by layer by layer.

I made many phone calls today, each one fairly long. However, I was delighted when my three tutoring sessions didn’t work out. I am so confused these days. I am having trouble feeling okay within myself. I called adolescent D at 4 to remind him to get on Zoom. He answered and said he was canceling for the day. Yay! Then I got a text from the mom of M & W. “Are we meeting today?” I changed our schedule on Sunday. I know I recorded it in my calendar as we talked. Nonetheless, there was no record of it. Damn! And Yay! I’m in no mood to wrestle with an unhappy student who would rather be dancing- doing anything other than this work.

I watched another rom-com with an unlikely situation, And So It Goes, with Michael Douglas and Diane Keaton. Keaton posed as a lounge singer. She was delightful. Rob Reiner came out from behind the camera to do a cameo. It was relaxing. Well, at least it didn’t add to my stress by being either edgy or so stupid I couldn’t stand it. Some of these rom-coms are pushing their luck.

Sunday, January 9, 2022

My ankle felt good during the night, even when I had to get up and pee. It felt fine for a good part of the morning walk. I even poked the spot right in front of my outside left ankle bone, and it didn’t feel sore. After walking, 2000 steps this morning, it started throbbing again. I felt it mainly on the bottom of my foot. I don’t know if it’s on the mend or if the problem is caused by something higher up the chain. Only time will tell.

Damon and Jean, my friend, called this morning to answer my calls last night.

The Germans have completely disappeared from my blog site today- nary a one. I consider this proof that this was a class assignment, and it’s over. However, Turkey has picked up the slack. I don’t know if this is one teacher who wanders from country-to-country teaching English or several teachers. It is weird.

I was so busy with phone calls I forgot I had a 9 am appointment. I looked at the clock to find it was already 9:09. I called M & W’s mom. I apologized for running late and asked if we could start at 9:30. Sure. I finished posting today’s blog entry before signing on for the Zoom session.

I started with third grade M. This is the third day her performance has been poor, back to when I started with her. She even had trouble hearing the individual phonemes. I called mom after I was through with fifth grade W. I told her what I saw with M. She said she thought M wanted control. I understood that to mean she wanted everything her way. I’m not sure I ever had the right interpretation, given what mom said later. Mom said she saw a regression in other aspects of her life. It was her job to put away the silverware. She usually is meticulous about putting everything in the correct place. Now, she is just throwing them randomly into the drawer. I saw all this as an indication that M had lost control over herself. Mom asked if I knew what could cause this mental regression. I asked if she had had a head injury. The cause could be psychological or physical. I didn’t know. Mom said they were thinking of getting her a therapist. I don’t think that’s a bad idea. Hopefully, child therapists are better than many of the adult ones I’ve had to deal with. I don’t know if I can help.

Mom told me that M’s teacher had assessed her reading. The results showed no improvement. This was weird because both mom and I have seen improvement. She said M thought she did well. She had no idea. Mom also thought the testing might have triggered this change. That’s good news in a sense; we have a diagnosis. However, I did comment to M about being afraid. She insisted she wasn’t. I’ve never dealt with so many closeted people in my life. I wondered why God was doing this to me, surrounding me with introverts. Thank God I have others that are nothing like that.

I did some good work on the Phase III video today. I’m getting a better idea of how to organize it. On the other hand, my Phase I and Phase II videos have been reloading on Facebook.

Jean, my friend, recommended the movie The Tender Bar. It was as wonderful as she said it was. Ben Affleck is amazing in it. It’s a coming-of-age story. Affleck plays the uncle of the young man. If I didn’t know who Affleck was, I’d have a crush on him.

Saturday, January 8, 2022

It was cold this morning. I checked the temperature at 7 am as I did my morning walk. It was 62 degrees at the airport. We're always 4 or 5 degrees cooler up here. That gets us down to the high 50s. Remember, we have no heat here. Many people don't have air conditioning either. I wasn't uncomfortable sleeping. I can close off my bedroom area. Between holding in the temperature from the day and the body heat Elsa and I throw off, it's comfortable. I have an extra blanket if I need it, too.

I came across an unexpectedly large flock of turkeys this morning, 24 in total. The largest flock I've seen so far is 13. I wondered how large the flock has to become before we consider them a nuisance. You know how humans are.

I had my appointment with the M & W sisters today. First-grade M told me about all the books she's reading. She had one with her and read it to me, The Rabbit's Tale. While she read, I frantically tried to find the reading level. It's considered beginning first grade. That's pretty good for independent reading. I still enjoy reading children's books. However, she continued making mistakes she hadn't made since she started. It was a concern.

I had W read the story we had been working on. She read it very well after not having worked on it for a while. She made a few errors on function words but caught the mistakes and self-corrected. Her speed was good. She made only one content-word error, reading run as raced. Raced would have been a better word choice for the story-more interesting.

We reviewed the story she started writing the in a previous session. She experimented with two conditions; it was a two-by-two. She had written about three of the situations out of four. It sounded good enough. She asked to write a new story.

She started dictating rapidly, too fast for me to type. The objective of dictation with W is learning to write what she composes. That requires holding the plot structure and each sentence as she composes them in her head. She admitted she found writing her thoughts difficult because her mind raced ahead of her hand. Dictating the sentence to me gives her a chance to practice slowing down and holding the thoughts in her head. She has to give me the words one at a time, retrieve the rest of the sentence, and then the next word while holding the macrostructure of her writing in mind. That's what we all have to do if we're going to write.

She said she was impatient. "Impatience runs in this family. No, my dad is okay. My mom is impatient." I had no contact with dad. My impression of mom lines up with W's. She's not easily satisfied and is easily displeased. I introduced a visualization to quiet the anxiety, which causes impatience. I did the homunculus visualization with her to deal with the fight, flight, freeze response generated by fear. W has the fight response. I said she didn't do that with me because her mother would have her head if she treated me that way and respected me. She said both. However, working with her was a grueling experience. I feel her discomfort.

I had adolescent D later in the day. He remembered how to spell first in five tries using the Fernald method. Fernald has the student write the word, cover it, and write it again, repeating that pattern five-time. Yesterday, when we tried that, D only could spell first correctly three times before he lost the pattern. This shows some improvement, although I'm not sure in what.

Today, I could work on spelling using a word family pattern. We started with the word WAY. He had no idea how to spell the long a sound in this word. I tried him on other words using that spelling, play, and day. He didn't remember how to spell them. I gave him every meaningful word ending with -ay, using only a single initial consonant, bay, day, fay, gay, hay, jay, kay, lay, may, nay, pay, quay (I gave him the qu), say, and way, and then a few with consonants blends using two letters, bray, clay, dray, gray, play, pray, stay, and tray. After presenting most of the list, he was confused about how to spell -ay in a word. I said, "I am controlling the pattern. I am only giving you words that end in the spelling. You can predict the spelling from the pattern." It is generally a problem with D; he doesn't see patterns.

I spoke to his mother today. I asked her the other day what she had seen that indicated he had spatial problems. She said he couldn't play a sport even as a young kid. He would be running around randomly with no idea what was going in. He would try to get the kids to engage with him another way, talking to them.

On the other hand, she gave me some spectacularly good news. D watched a foreign film with subtitles with his dad the other night. He would stop the movie to read the subtitles. His dad said he was stunned he could read the words he could. He started crying. This is amazing in so many ways. D made an effort to read it at all. He stopped the video, making accommodations appropriate for his reading needs. He did all this in front of his dad, with whom he was less comfortable than his mom. And finally, he was able to read the subtitles. Wow! Wow! & Wow! I read mom a passage D read today without error at a reasonable speed. Sorry I didn't record it.

My Master Card bill arrived today. I checked my payments; sure enough, there were two recorded payments to Charity Navigator. I have yet to receive an email receipt from them for the first payment. They told me they had sent it but would send it again. Then I still need a receipt for my second session with them. This was a substantial amount of money. They wrote back they had no record of it. I sent more money to another twenty charities. They said they had no record of my payments. I told them I would get back when I got my statement. Here it is. There is no question I made a large -for me- payment to Charity Navigator. I wrote them my payment details, date, and item #. Let's see what happens. If Netflix can keep track of me, I'm sure someone at Charity Navigator can. It isn't a brand-new site. I can't imagine I'm the only person who has this problem with them.

Judy and I played phone tag during the day and finally made contact. I asked if I could say something about Paulette. I wanted joint silence when I spent time with her on the lanai. Instead, she yakked the entire time. I was concerned about the situation. I couldn't do that again; it added to my sense of deprivation. Fortunately, Judy said, "You're on speakerphone, and Paulette is sitting right here. Don't say anything bad about her." Thank God. I spoke to Paulette directly about my need to sit in silence. I explained to both ladies how I lacked opportunities for parallel play with someone I was connected to. You know. You hang out with a partner; they do what they do, and you do what you do, but you are together. It's not the same as doing that at a bus station because those people feel no connection to you. I am exhausted by the thought of one more conversation. It's not that I don't value the conversations and all the people who care about me. I do. You'd better believe I do. Not having the other is draining my energy. I dreaded the next conversation.

Therapist throw, or used to throw, out the comment, "You're a human being, not a human doing." That was always a prize-winning meaningless statement for me when it wasn't downright untrue. Ask anyone with nothing to do, no job to go to, nothing to take care of how they feel. We are a species that needs to feel we have something to do in this world. Those who don't have that need are classified as mentally ill. What does it mean to be a human being? To be expected to do nothing? To be in a complete state of rest? To be by ourselves, not making any effort to interact with the other person, and to be enough, to be perfect.

I bathed Elsa. I was supposed to do this several times a week to help her skin lesions. I was proud I finally got myself on a once-a-week schedule. She hates it. She sits still, but she shakes the whole time. She doesn't shake like that for firecrackers.

On my public blog site, Germany has gone from several hundred pages to 1. This is confirmation that someone uses my blog for their class assignments. When the class is over, the group disappears. No one stays on to continue reading it.

Yvette sent me a Sarah Millican video. She's an Irish comic. She's good. What's weird is she throws out profane words. I remember when Lenny Bruce was arrested for using language like that. This dowdy, overweight housewife mixes it in every other sentence, and everyone laughs. No one is shocked. Millican's humor is good. It's not all profanity; hers is well-timed and fun.