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

Wednesday, March 11, 2026

Tuesday, December 6, 2022

I had a chiropractor appointment at noon; I made sure I was on time. Besides the chiropractor's usual treatment, she told me about an exercise she was doing to strengthen her thigh muscles. She writes the alphabet with her foot while holding her leg straight, locking the knee. Someone told me about the exercise before; this time, it caught my interest.

I started listening to a podcast on teaching reading today, Sold a Story. It argues that the methods used in the schools for the last forty years rather than teaching effective reading methods were teaching strategies poor readers use. Sold a Story tells how parents became aware of the ineffective teaching methods used during Covid. They saw the schools didn't teach phonics. They taught students to look at the first and last letter of the word and guess the word using a cueing method. Parents were outraged. This has led to this protest and an impending sea change in reading programs.

I teach phonics. Teaching people not to use phonics in an alphabetic language is plain nuts. However, the Whole Language program has good points. I hope they don't get lost as the pendulum swings the other way.

The Whole Language approach taught students to look at the first and last letters of words and guess what the word might be. They called it cueing. It is also inferencing. Cueing, inferencing, or using context clues has its place, particularly in English. The problem is they skipped the step of decoding the word using phonics.

The relationship between the sounds and the letters is not a one-to-one correspondence as it is in Italian or Hawaiian. There are six phonically regular pronunciations of the letter a. Each one is nestled in its context. Arriving at an accurate pronunciation through decoding is often hit or miss. However, if you get close enough, you can use the context to figure out the word. Cueing is vital here.

English is also a stress-based language. The meaning of words can change depending on where the stress is. The word record can have two pronunciations with two different meanings. You need to use context to figure out which is which.

In English, one word can have multiple meanings. You must use context to figure out which one is applicable. While using the Whole Language approach exclusively is a disaster, so is using phonics exclusively.

An older friend from over fifty years ago who remains a Facebook friend messaged me that a mayor of a small Wisconsin town was interested in my teaching method. I would love to get my method into school systems. I find it a quick and easy fix for those without learning disabilities who are weak in word recognition.

The podcast encouraged me to reach out more to make people aware of my method of teaching phonics. Teachers don't want to teach it because the methods are stultifying. They require drill and memorization. My method teaches people to do what good students do: figure out the words using what knowledge they have. The program doesn't eliminate direct instruction, but the emphasis is on direct instruction on how to learn to read.

Today, I had my first session with first-grade I. Her teachers said she had difficulty with reading and needed help. They wanted her to attend the 7 am before-school book club. If they follow the Whole Word method, they would only give her the opportunity to read more; there will be no specific instructions if they follow Marie Clay's method.

I asked her if she needed help with reading. She said no. I asked if she had a good memory for words. Yes. Could she figure out words she didn't know? No. I showed her how to decode words. I used the fourth story in the Carpenter materials, showed her how to figure out the words using the sounds the letters represented, and blend those sounds. At one point, I asked her if she knew the sound the letter n made. No. I thought of a word she could read that started with an n, as in now. That's all it took with this child. She had the basics of decoding skills with twenty minutes of instruction. I anticipated she would read on a second-grade level in a month- if I could work with her for three half-hour weekly sessions.

I worked with I's third-grade brother for half an hour. His mother knew I was a healer. The boy had trouble controlling his anger. His mom took him to a therapist who did play therapy with him. They didn't see results. I don't work behaviorally. Buddhist meditation practices strongly influence my approach. You sit calmly with unpleasant feelings until they go away. Our bad feelings are exacerbated by our hatred of them- or our undue love of them.

I explained to J that he should feel comfortable with everything he does with me. On a comfort scale, it had to be at least a 7 out of 10. If it's lower than that, I don't push it. I might with an adult, but never with a child. They're too vulnerable.

I teach the clients to monitor their comfort and discomfort with the work. J was wonderful to work with. He got the message loud and clear. He announced that he felt increased tension at one point- a clear signal to stop what we were doing. The work is good when the client feels greater relaxation. That's how we measure the work from minute to minute. Then, there is measuring the results in their regular lives. Did you get angry less frequently? When you did get angry, did it feel less overwhelming? Were you better able to control your behavior when you felt anger? That's what we were looking for, just like the behaviorists. But we're approaching it from a feeling angle rather than a behavioral one.

The greatest relaxation came when I said he was a good person because he didn't want to be angry. While self-hatred is good for getting us to the point where we recognize we must change. Once we've crossed that line, self-hatred is counterproductive. Both J's parents have issues with anger. When I pointed out they were people who didn't like that behavior in themselves and were, therefore, good people, I saw the greatest release of tension. Was that coincidental? It was an interesting possibility.

I've seen that reaction once before when I pointed out something positive about a parent or informed a child that just because a parent, or any number of people in a biological family, behaved in a particular way, it doesn't doom the child to follow in their footsteps. I don't mean it is easy to overcome, but assuming you're doomed to be like them makes change much harder.

Tonight, I heard the county is considering closing Saddle Road not because of the threat of the lava but because of the trouble caused by all the people visiting viewing sites along the road. Besides the unmanageable crowd, people were leaving trash, and some were hiking close to the lava and roasting marshmallows. The lava, anything related to the land, is sacred in the Hawaiian tradition. So many people are disrespectful. It is like desecrating a church.

I threw some damp clothes into the dryer for five minutes to remove all the moisture. I prefer line drying; it uses less electricity. While I have solar panels and batteries, they are not enough to run three households for twenty-four hours. Even when the batteries are 100% before the sun goes down, we never make it through the night. We couldn't make it off grid without some series cutbacks.

Judy finally gave two teachers my contact information. The women are students in Judy's conversion class for adults. When they found out Judy had Orton-Gillingham training in teaching phonics, they asked her to train them. Judy redirected them to me. That would be wonderful. I would love to train teachers in my method. It is readily adaptable to the classroom. I am Orton-Gillingham trained. It required one hundred hours of class presence and an eight-hundred-hour practicum. There are Orton-Gillingham programs that require less time but not less money.

I have taught volunteer tutors with no educational training the basic principles of The Phonics Discovery System in half an hour, and they saw results. Classroom teachers dread teaching a highly structured and scheduled system. It involves reverting to old ways of teaching that require no thinking on the part of the teachers or the students, and it's boring. TPDS is neither structured nor scheduled.

With a highly structured and scheduled program, if a student misses a day, there's a problem. There is no problem with TPDS. You can teach all students at their level within the same lesson. The most amazing aspect of the program is it works.

Many years ago, a first-grade teacher in a Catholic school approached me. She had seen a remarkable difference in her sixth-grade son's reading ability. What had I done? She had yet to make progress with her first graders, and there were only three weeks left of school. I came in and did TPDS using the students' names. I did two half-hour sessions. The teacher told me all her students started playing with the process. Her good students just took off. Her poorer ones made less progress but did improve. If we show students how to learn, they will do it independently. This is fun, as much fun as learning a new video game.

Monday, December 5, 2022

I was 82 today. I had some emotionally taxing moments in the last few days. Still, equilibrium has returned with a bit of residual pain.

I had a quiet day. I was supposed to have three sessions. The M & W sisters were in California at a funeral. Initially, we were supposed to meet anyway. Often, I have sessions with the girls while they’re sitting in the car at an activity site. The dad left the funeral to call me. I proposed we cancel for the week. He was happy with that solution. I feel appreciated by this family. Both their children are doing much better than when I met them.

I worked on catching up on the updates. I was eleven days behind. I got three done. I also did some gardening and cleaning. I washed two loads of towels. The day stayed sunny despite threats of heavy rain, so my laundry dried on its own.

Sunday, December 4, 2022

Damon asked for a Zoom meeting with the Zims. They were a big part of his childhood. We had dinner with them every weekend for years. He doesn’t have contact with them apart from me but thinks of them fondly.

I was unsettled about the car. John’s discovery that the car lurches ahead above the limit set by cruise control is frightening. The Kia Niro is blessed with fantastic safety features. I felt protected. I discovered it stops if I’m too close to something when I back up. I did that. I pressed the gas pedal to make it go. No go. When I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw a car parked perpendicularly. I nearly had another one of my famous less-than-five miles-per-hour car accidents. The car stopped me. I am aware that I’m less alert, less aware than I used to be. I value all the safety features. If it has this flaw, that is a significant loss. I always drive with my foot next to the brake, ready to take over if necessary. I never thought of the car as an active danger, downright aggressive.

Yvette came up to visit and suggested I just buy a new car if I was concerned about the safety of this one. How’s that for adding anxiety? Buying this car was hard enough. Buying a new one is a painful prospect, not to mention the cost.

I drove my three guests to the airport. Elsa sat on my lap.

I spent the rest of the day catching up on updates and blog entries. I updated the blog entries, but I still needed to catch up on the email updates. The last one posted was on November 24.

I signed in for the Zoom appointment with the M & W sisters. I sent the ‘sent’ message to the mom. She texted that they were at a funeral. Their dad walked out and called me. They were in California. We agreed to cancel for today and Monday and start up again next week.

Saturday, December 3, 2022

I called my Kia dealer first thing in the morning to find out if other Kias had the same problem John had with my car; the car accelerated above the limit set by cruise control. They said they knew nothing about it. I made an appointment to bring the car in on Wednesday morning for a check-up. I asked them to do a routine service while it was there.

It was a wonderful day. We left at about 10 am for two steps to do some snorkeling. Our first stop was at Coffee Shack. I love to sit in the back room rather than the open lanai. The double-hung screenless windows frame the view over the sharp descent below to the expanse of the bay and the cliffs on the far side. When we got seated in the back room, there were no seats by the window. After we got our water, one of the two tables by the rear window became free. I leaped out of my seat to claim the table. I believe my friends were startled by my audacity. Some things are worth rudeness. The waitress told us to wait until she cleared the table. Then it was ours. The view is soul-satisfying, and the food is good. I had eggs Benedict, my usual.

Christine is an artist. When I expressed pleasure in seeing windows framing a landscape, she suggested I hang a frame against my lanai screens. There is a cardboard frame with sticking tape on the back. I could move it around to change my slice of the view.

We continued south to Two-Step. There's not much beach there. It's mostly a large rock jutting out into the water. We put our chairs on the little bit of sandy beach on the shallow side of the bay with a boat ramp.

John and Carol went to the deep side to snorkel. The place is called Two-Step because nature cuts two steps into the rock. John and Carol had to get into the water right from the edge of the rock. It is one big rock, a cooled lava flow. Christine went to find a place to sit and paint.

When Carol and John returned after half an hour or forty-five minutes, they reported seeing colorful fish. The coral is all bleached by now. Carol said getting in and out of the water was hard because the tide was high, and the two steps were covered.

I sat in a beach chair, watching three children play in the sand. They were siblings, two to three years apart; the oldest couldn't have been more than eight. It was a wonderful show. Their mom was sitting right there.

I went snorkeling in the shallow water once John and Carol returned. The water was cold. I learned a mountain stream fed that section; the water was brackish. I remember enjoying the snorkeling there when John taught me how to on their last trip here. I went in the deep end that time. I enjoyed looking at the small details of the patterns in the sand and the occasional sand-colored fish swimming by. I didn't enjoy snorkeling in the deep water. While there were a few fish, there wasn't much else to look at. Besides, I was scared. I wasn't the swimmer I once was, and I get nauseous while snorkeling. Then, it took two men to haul me out of the water. I got sick again today. That was a signal to get out.

When it was time to stand up and walk out of the water, I couldn't. I asked a passing child to help me. He was too small and too weak. Carol came out to help me.

A man walked on the boat ramp, slipped, and fell hard. I went running to speak to him. Locals sitting on the beach said he was okay. I yelled, "Staph," they knew what I meant. I told the man to treat any abrasions. Lava rock is loaded with staph infection. It never dies here because it's the tropics.

As I returned to my seat, the mother of the three children asked if the man was okay. She was Korean and spoke limited English. I struggled to explain that the concern was for a staph infection. People new to the island never think of it and might ignore an infection. She was from Korea and spoke limited English. I managed to get the idea across by miming it.

After I sat down, the mother started packing up. She took her children into the water one at a time and washed off the sand. I videoed her and the children in the water. I showed her the video. I tried to send it to her phone. She didn't think texting would work. She tried to get into AirDrop, but that didn't connect. She typed her very long Korean telephone number into my phone, and I tried sending one of the four videos. She didn't receive it, but my phone didn't say it was undelivered. It could come through in a day or two. I put my name and phone number in her phone. I hoped someone could figure out how I could send her the videos. We could have used email. Of course, that was in Korean. How could I have entered it on my phone? When I got home, I texted all the videos. The first one may have gone through.

We headed back to town via this paved one-lane road through the countryside. It was treacherous. There was no shoulder and as much as a two-foot drop off the edge of the road. As John pointed out, if a wheel went off the edge, there was no way you could get the car back on the road. John drove very carefully. The view was spectacular.

The road rose and fell as all roads here do. The lava comes out like melted ice cream. When we were on a rise, the road in the distance looked narrower than where we were. Christine loved the perspective and asked John to stop so Carol could take a picture.

Eventually, the road widened, and we drove through a small conclave of homes. As we went up the mountain, the houses became more luxurious. At some point, I recognized where I was. Ed and Mindy lived in a gated community off this road. Sure enough. We passed a gate with dolphins that I remembered. The road to Route 11 was winding but wide enough for two cars. It had a double line running down the middle.

While we had driven down to Two-Step by Route 11 the whole way, the GPS and I recommended we take an alternate route on the way back, the Ali'i Road bypass. The view was better, and the driving was smoother. The GPS said it takes the same amount of time. The mileage is greater, but the speed limit is higher.

The GPS recommended making a right on King Kamehameha III to return to route 11. We were well past the small towns at that point. I suggested continuing on Ali'i because of the sights, the water and the lovely waterfront homes along the way. We turned up before Ali'i St. flowed into Palani.

When we got home, John, Carol, and I cleaned up from the beach and dressed for dinner at Huggos. I had been concerned there would be a long line and recommended we be there as early as five. We left the house at five-thirty. There was no line. That was great for us but left me concerned for the restaurant. We lost several favorites during the Covid pandemic. I wouldn't want to lose this one too.

We sat right by the rail, overlooking the water and the sunset. The food was delicious, and I enjoyed everyone's company. Carol ordered a slice of key lime pie, which the other two didn't imbibe. We discovered they thought it was only for the two birthday girls, Carol and me. Christine asked where we could get ice cream. John checked GPS. It was 364 feet from the restaurant.

We got on the long, slow-moving line at Gypsea Gelato. They were only letting in one group at a time. It must be a Covid precaution. The man of the couple behind us suggested he claim we were his grandparents so he could come in with us. We pretended offense. I was at least old enough to be his grandmother. With our sixty-year age difference, I was old enough to be Isaac's great-grandmother. I have no idea how gelato is different from ice cream. What I had was delicious, although way more than I needed after the lime pie dessert.

I didn't make my 10,000 steps today. I was too tired. I headed to bed.

Friday, December 2, 2022

We were up at 4:30 this morning to view the lava flow at Mauna Loa. John asked to drive. Some people are more comfortable when they are at the wheel. I was concerned because most accidents here occur during the early morning hours as people return home drunk or high. John assured me he would drive defensively. He rides a motorcycle. Driving defensively is a necessity. John was a good driver. He could do at least as well as I could, if not better. On the way, the car did something unexpected; it surged forward faster than the speed set on the cruise control. That was concerning.

We were on Saddle Road a bit after 5 am and made it to the Mauna Kea access road by 5:30. Judy had recommended we go there to see the view. Parking on the access road was legal; parking on Saddle Road was not. If stopped, drivers were fined $1,000. Judy said there were hundreds of cars on the road when she was there on Wednesday night. We left early in the morning on Sandor’s advice. There were people out, but the road wasn’t jammed.

I had warned our guests to dress warmly. When we reached a spot on the access road on the mountain, they were surprised to see the temperature was 47 degrees. At the top of the mountain, the average temperature is 32 degrees. We have snow at the top of the Mauna Kea in the winter. Yes, right here in Hawaii.

John, Carol, and Christine were impressed with the view of the lava fountain and the lava dribbling down the mountainside. I wasn’t. Judy had seen lava up close and personal on another occasion. Maybe that helped her experience the view as life-altering. It was also possible that the night was overcast when she saw it. In that case, the sky would have been aglow with the red light of the lava. That would have been impressive. Tonight, we had a crystal-clear night. The stars were the impressive show. Carol tried to convince me the lava was impressive, saying it was a view of the earth spewing out its innards. True, but that is a top-down perception. Would it be as impressive if you didn’t know what it was? We were too far away.

We went home, had breakfast, and caught some makeup sleep. My three guests went out sightseeing. I stayed home and worked on updates.

Thursday, December 1, 2022

My guests who left for Kuai on Monday returned today. I picked them up at the airport. Their luggage had fit into the trunk of my car without difficulty. Christine got in the car,

greeted Elsa and continued teaching her art history. Elsa loved Christine. She spent one whole night sleeping with her and never came into the bed she shared with me every night. Elsa was thrilled to have so many people in the house. As far as she was concerned, they were all here to pet her and throw balls for her to chase nonstop.

Carol commented that Elsa's ears smelled. I always take her to the vet when I see an infection in her ears. I thought that gunk coming out of her ears was a sign of infection. Carol showed me it was earwax. She showed me a way to clean her ears I could handle. She asked for cotton balls. I had none, but I had gauze pads left over from my operation. She wet a pad with an ear-cleaning solution and wiped as much of the ear as possible. This was an incredible find. I can make Elsa more comfortable regularly and save a visit to the vet.

The question for the day was whether eighth-grade K's mom would connect K for our Zoom session today or not? If she didn't show, I could assume the worst. That made me sad on several counts. I was hoping I could help K. I enjoyed the challenge. Also, he came to me through a recommendation of the private school he attended. I expected to get more referrals through the school. If K's mom fired me and complained, it would probably end any hope of that.

K's mom texted me in the afternoon to remind me we had a session. She said nothing about missing yesterday's session. I said nothing. No point.

K's teacher assigned the book Under the Mesquite to her class. The story is told in blank verse. His teacher told me the lessons would focus on symbolic language, metaphors, similes, character, setting, plot, and theme. I went through the book, marking every incident of symbolic language.

Many kids have problems because they think answers are just supposed to come. They shouldn't have to do anything, like think. When explaining a metaphor, I told K to think of the literal meaning of the compared words. Moods are compared to smoke that can change direction unexpectedly. Picture smoke; picture it changing direction unexpectedly. He actually had more experience with this than I did. How did the change in the direction of the smoke make him feel? What might that have in common with changing moods? The above was a part of an extended metaphor. By the end of the session, he was coming up with appropriate answers. His usual answer was, "I don't know." I told him he couldn't say that anymore. It's not that I think he always knows the answer or how to figure it out. The expression was his invisibility shield so he could escape the work.

I convinced Carol and Christine to play Rummikub instead of Triple Solitaire tonight. You have to move fast when playing the card game. My eyesight wasn't good enough, and I wasn't as familiar with the game. I like the slower-moving Rummikub, where you have the time and space to think about your next move. I love the image of the two women playing the game as they travel across the country touring, pulling the RV behind them. I thoroughly enjoyed both of them. John is sweet and can be a joy to be around, too. He cooked many delicious meals.

When friends come to visit, they all know that they will be doing the cooking. No one expects me to. When my godmother, a little Asian Indian woman who lived in a convent in Philadelphia, came to visit, she not only did the cooking, she brought the food.

I didn't get my 10,000 steps in today. The program forgives breaks as rest days. The count continued the next day.

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

I was supposed to have a 5:30 appointment with eighth-grade K today. He was a no-show. I suspected his mother was contemplating firing me by ghosting me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t pay for the completed sessions. The upside of her action is she is protecting her son. The downside is she doesn’t realize she is wrong. No, he was not lying; he had never done work like this before and had no experience evaluating his part versus the teacher’s. His mom has decided she doesn’t trust me- that I am untrustworthy. I suspect she is viewing it as a haoli who puts down people of color; her son is at least half Japanese. While the mother’s name is as English as they come, I suspect she is mixed race. When she doesn’t get things her way, she screams victim. While I can appreciate the bias, people of color have been put down by white people for generations. It is as much a bias against white people as racial discrimination against people of color is a bias. It’s hard to see when you feel like a victim. I could appreciate those sentiments, but I didn’t appreciate the ghosting.

I struggled to think of how to expand K’s verbal range. In one conversation, I told his mom to ask more questions as he talked about his day to force him to give more details. I said he trusted her. She said, “I hope he trusts you.” It was stupid of me to trigger the topic. I told her I hoped he trusted her more than he trusted me. We went round and round on this subject a few times. She got the point; he should only trust me to the extent one should trust a teacher versus a mother or a partner. Hopefully, that’s different. If it isn’t, something is wrong with that personal relationship.

K does well with all nonverbal activities. He spends every weekend hunting or fishing with his dad and his brother. He attended a Hawaiian emergent charter school before he came to the academically oriented private school he is in now. He did well memorizing the long Hawaiian chants. He did well with all the nonverbal activities. Reading and writing English is ignored in these schools.

Tuesday, November 29, 2022

I had an appointment with the acupuncturist after a three-week break. We usually meet every two weeks. I showed her why the exercises she gave me to open my hips didn't work. My lower legs were so tight; all the action happened there, and it never reached my hips. She did no acupuncture. It was all bodywork. She has a brilliant understanding of the body.

I have a new Mama K now. How do I distinguish one from the other? One is the mama of K and Twins A & E.; the other is the mama of I and J. I think the new Mama K will be Mama Ke. She wants me to work on her son's anger. He has reason to be angry. His parents have had a hard time. The school called to say that first-grade I was behind in reading. I'll be working with her on that. She made appointments for next week.

I had an appointment with eighth-grade K. I tried to use the situation with his paper to get him to give more information. I asked him where he was when he was writing the paper. He said, "In a chair." Whoa! While that information was accurate, it didn't answer the question. The only other time I have heard someone answer the question that way was when my husband was in the hospital. He had been there for over a week; he was bedridden and on high doses of painkillers, including fentanyl. A nurse stood at his bedside and asked, "Do you know where you are?" I could see Mike struggling to come up with an answer. His face cleared; he had an answer. With his two Ph. D.s, my brilliant husband turned to the nurse and said, "Here!" An accurate answer but inappropriate. What is going on in this boy's brain that he would answer like "in a chair." I was beginning to wonder if he was out of my range.

I continued working with WbyW on the 7th-grade level. He does an excellent job parsing the sentences- really excellent. But he has a poor vocabulary and does a poor job with anything to do with meaning or composing sentences on his own. His language skills are very depressed.

I called his mom after the session. I wanted more information about the way he operated within the family. Did he use more language, or was he mostly silent? She was furious with me for "grilling him" after she had grilled him on his paper; had he cheated? I no longer thought he had. His teacher sent me an email saying she had worked with him extensively. He had worked hard. The ideas were his, but he had a lot of help with the wording, organization, and formatting. I wanted to use the situation to get him to describe the circumstances with greater accuracy and detail.

Besides having problems getting him to describe a physical situation completely, he denied the teacher had worked with him as long as she claimed. He believed he had written the whole thing with some help on the formatting. His teacher may not be accurate, but I was sure the boy wasn't. No, I didn't think he was lying. I didn't think he knew the difference between the content (the ideas) and the form (the words). For him, his words and hers said what he had in mind; therefore, he wrote it.

At one point, K's mom said, "He's not as verbal as his younger brother." I said, "There's nothing wrong with being non-verbal. He could make a living hunting and fishing. Then don't push him to be something else." His mom never noticed how little he said. She thought he was a deep thinker. She didn't realize he didn't think at all, at least not with words.

I understood why his mom was angry with me. I saw K's discomfort but couldn't let go of my objective because I thought the circumstances provided a great teaching opportunity. It didn't. I should have stopped sooner. I apologized. Not much more I could have done.

Monday, November 28, 2022

I woke up to the news that Mauna Loa had erupted. We'd been expecting this. The earthquakes were increasing- a sign that the mountain was up to something. The question wasn't, 'Would it erupt?" It was 'When would it erupt?'. We had our answer this morning.

People were concerned about the path of flow. Those living in South Kona started evacuating on their own initiative. Shelters were opened in downtown Kona.

How long will the eruption last? It usually lasted only one or two weeks, but that's what they said about Kilauea when it erupted in 1983. It lasted till 2018-—Twenty-five years straight, spewing fumes into the air, creating vog that plagued the whole island.

I was up before the alarm but stayed in bed, did my in-bed exercises, and dozed. I got up because I had several texts asking me about the eruption.

My guests and I had traveled for two hours to Volcano. Then we walked a mile in the dark to view the eruption at Kilauea, which looked like a kids' bonfire, to see the glow of the more spectacular eruption from my front window. No, I was in no danger from the lava flow. The mountain I lived on blocks the lava flow from Mauna Loa. I would be affected as members of my community evacuated and lost their homes. The flow from Kilauea is slow because the slope is gentle. The lava moves toward the ocean slowly. The slope of Mauna Loa is much steeper. The lava would reach the ocean at a much faster pace. As I ran into people on my morning walk, that's all we talked about.

The reports said the lava flow wasn't great enough to leave the caldera. They also said the largest eruption was the first. After that, they would die down. Hopefully, they're right.

When I spoke to Judy today, I told her what those folks we ran into at the black sand beach said about life in Portland. In the last five years, the crime rate has radically increased. The folks we talked to blamed the mayor and his policies. I needed to learn more to evaluate their opinion. I knew there was a country-wide housing shortage, and the number of homeless people had radically increased. I also knew that the climate in Portland is suitable for outdoor living. Those factors have to be part of the problem.

Judy asked why they couldn't create communities for the homeless with small houses. On Lanai, there is a cat sanctuary for wild cats. It's a tourist attraction. Why can't we do something comparable homeless?

The homeless set up their own settlement on Oahu. It was well-maintained and controlled. Two women were the recognized bosses of the community. If someone violated the rules, they were booted out. The powers that be shut the community down because they drew on the water supply for the harbor. Instead of supporting a stable community, they broke it up. The cats have it better. There is even a vet on site. Animals that don't get along with the other cats are kept separate from the larger community until they adjust. Mental health support could be provided for the homeless. Judy suggested that special provisions could be made for those who didn't want to give up alcohol or drugs, along with AA and NA programs on site.

Sunday, November 27, 2022

I drove John, Carol, and Christine to the airport at 6:45 to make their flight to Kauai. I got all worked up about fitting their suitcases into my trunk. It is quite small. It was all for naught. John fit them in easily.

I went to the 9 am mass. I forgot to take my mask. I was sick and tired of wearing it and the fear that goes with it. I always sit outside on the south lanai. It’s usually not crowded, but it was cold this morning. I tried to find a seat with some sunshine. Judy told me it was also freezing inside the church. The air conditioning is appropriate for a meat packing plant.

After mass, I walked back to my car to get a mask before going to the small shop at the base of Hualalai on Ali’i to buy Oofos. I walked down a few steps, holding my mask in my hand. I never did put it on. I didn’t order online because I wasn’t sure of the size.

A lovely warm, enthusiastic lady behind the counter checked the pair I had on and confirmed they were a women’s eight or a men’s ten. I went to a brick-and-mortar shop, hoping there would be a wider selection of colors than I found on the internet. They didn’t. They had the same black shoes with some color laminated on the straps and a greyish-beige pair. I got one of each. I wear them because they are the best shoes for my feet, even recommended by the podiatrist. They have thick soles and arch supports to soften the impact of walking. Also, the thong sandal keeps my wandering second toe in place. With my twisted hammer toe, I can throw a neuroma. Been there; done that. They hurt. I bought both colors. The saleswoman asked if I lived on the island. I was surprised she thought to ask. Did I look like a local? She said she recognized me. Where did she know me from? I asked her if she attended St. Michael’s. No. Did she do Bikram? Yes. I got a kama’aina discount of 10%.

My next stop was Safeway. They didn’t have a quart container of milk. I bought some yogurt I knew the crew liked and some more cream cheese for our bagels.

I worked on updates. I completed the blog posting and two for the email crew for 2022.

My eyes were bothering me a lot today. My vision was better without the glasses. I walked around without them for the day. Then I did the eye exercises Scott introduced me to. My vision was better immediately.

The father of the M& W sisters called to postpone our class from four to five pm. I said I wanted to work with second-grade M on math for 45 minutes and sixth-grade W for the remaining fifteen. W is doing well in school. She can keep up.

I discovered M couldn’t read three-digit numbers. That was alarming.. I told the parents I wanted to concentrate on math to make sure she was up to speed. I started with kindergarten objectives. She demonstrated good number sense. She could use alternative ways to solve addition simple addition problems. I worked on expanded notation in conjunction with identifying place values.

With sixth grade W, I worked on listing what we knew about the character so far from the description and what we could infer about the character from the description.

After the session, I walked Elsa and then fed the girl. I completed 10,000 steps before dinner. Yesterday, I missed the 10,000 mark. The app allows for one day of rest before starting the count of completed days from scratch. I was up to 120 days in a row.

I did some small bits of cleanup since my guests are gone for the next four days. I did a laundry.

I spoke to Judy and Jean, my hanai sister. I am so lucky to have these two loving ladies in my life.

I started watching The Wonder. I read the plot on Wiki. It had great reviews, especially for the lead actress. It has a happy ending, but it looked too stressful. I didn’t need any extra stress.

Saturday, November 26, 2022

Once up, I walked out onto the lanai of the Volcano Vrbo to take in the view and the wonderful cool, crisp air. People came out of an attached unit and got into a truck we had seen parked there when we arrived. The man waved to me and said, "Thank you." He thought I was the condo's owner, and I thought he was. Once that was cleared up, I asked him where he was from. "Here!" "Oh, yes. Where?" “Palisades” “Me, too. Where in the Palisades?" "On Holoholo." "Really? I live right around the corner." We introduced ourselves and gave more detailed descriptions of our homes. They were Jared and Grey. There's a good chance I would run into them in the future.

We had till eleven o'clock before we had to leave. We sat on the lanai in the crisp air and the warm sunshine. What a lovely combination! It was like camp in mid-August. Then, we set out on our day.

We went back to the visitor's center to see the art museum. Christine is an artist and wanted to check it out. I was amazed. The artwork was high quality. Christine said it would be; the Federal government sponsored it. The artwork was for sale.

Next on our agenda was a walk through the lava tube or across an inactive crater we had walked across a few years ago. The four of us took on the lava tube. The descent was steep;

The ground inside the tube had many little water-filled potholes, just enough to get our feet wet. While there were some lamps along the way, it was poorly lit. Avoiding the potholes held most of my attention. I wasn't always successful.

The last time I was here, Mike, John, and Carol took on the tube while I waited for them. I had just walked three miles across the caldera. I didn't have any more physical adventures in me.

John and Carol wanted to do some additional hiking. Christine and I were hiked out, and she wanted to do some Plein air painting. John and Carol dropped us off at the visitor's center. I stayed in the car and napped for a while. Christine sat at a picnic bench and painted.

I only nap briefly. I got out of the car, locked it, and started walking around the visitor's center.

I got a text from Carol saying John, and she decided to walk across the caldera we had crossed before. I went to tell Christine the news. Her eyes flew wide with alarm as I approached. It was clear this was much-needed alone time. I didn't bother her after that. I just walked.

Christine told wonderful stories about her experiences with art. This is a soul-soothing activity for her. She usually paints at night. She gets to see her work in daylight the next morning. "It's like Christmas every day." Christine and I had a similar aesthetic. It was fun to share delight at things we saw.

John and Carol were gone longer than expected because they took a wrong turn. Christine and I returned to the car minutes before Carol and John arrived. John said he was surprised at how difficult the walk into the caldera was. We did it five years ago. It was challenging for me but more manageable for John and Carol. They didn't go all the way across this time.

Once in the car, we headed to Hilo and Reuben's Mexican restaurant. I love their deluxe nachos. We ordered nachos for the table, and I ordered an enchilada for myself. The nachos were enough for me and were just as delicious as I remembered. I took most of my enchilada and what was left of Christine's dinner home for future meals. Then we went back to the rental.

We drove to Volcano over Route 11. On the way home, we went over Saddle Road. There was cloud cover for most of the way. Some were so dense we had to move slowly. Then, to our left, we saw a bright light behind a hill. We had no idea what it was until we moved a bit further down the road. It was the setting sun in a brilliant display. To our left was the sunset; to our right were the late rays of the sun illuminating the mountainside. Which way to look first to take in all this beauty? Nothing I can say can capture the exquisite sight before us.

When we got home, Carol and Christine persuaded me to participate in a game of triple Solitaire. I bought a deck of cards at the Volcano Art Center. It was more challenging than the two decks of Casiino cards the girls used with their large, clear images, good for those with poor eyesight. I had trouble with my eyes, and the print on my cards was small. It was stressful. You can buy the casino cards in dollar stores with their edges clipped to mark them. Otherwise, people could use them for gambling. I'm a FreeCell girl, I hadn't played Solitaire since the 1960s. It was uncomfortable between the small print on my cards and the game's rapid pace. It was hard for me to focus on the cards in my hand and the common cards in the middle of the table. It was still fun to play a game with the girls.

Friday, November 25, 2022

The Zims and I headed out at about 11:30. We took the long route parallel to the shoreline on our way to Volcano. I don’t think I ever went that far south before on Route 11. The views are spectacular.

We stopped to view a black sand beach to see the sea turtles. No turtles. Carol, Christine, and I wanted to use the bathroom. The women’s was closed. Christine headed for the porta-potty across the parking lot. Carol and I waited till we were sure there were no men in theirs. John would stand guard. Once I got close enough, the stench convinced me I’d be better off with the other option. While I remember them stinking to high heaven, the porta-potty couldn’t smell worse than the bathroom. It stood at the edge of the parking lot. The doors were wide open, airing out the porta-potty. It was heaven compared to the flush toilet men’s bathroom.

While Carol and I were waiting for the last man to come out, we talked to a couple. They own a house they rented when they weren’t using it themselves. No, it was not in the immediate area. I can’t remember why. Was it too expensive? Too isolated? They wished they had a house there; it was so beautiful. They were from Portland, Oregon. They complained bitterly about the state of the city. The crime rate had soared. They blamed it on their liberal-leaning mayor. The crime rate is rising everywhere. Some of it is caused by homelessness. The mayor is not to blame for the temperate climate in Portland that makes rough living possible.

Our first stop was at the condo Carol and John rented to accommodate all four of us. I heard many tales about the dangers of theft on that side of the island. At certain sites, they post “Lock Your Car” signs. I wanted to make sure our possessions were stored before we went on our adventures.

After we dropped our stuff, we headed to the Volcano Visitor’s Center. We viewed some videos and took in the exhibits. A ranger was giving a brief lecture about the site. Not to bother going to the site until after 8 pm when it was dark. While the site during daylight is interesting, the real show is at night. He warned that the parking lots closest to the best viewing spots to see the active volcano would be packed.

We went out to dinner in the town of Volcano, a small restaurant that featured hamburgers. As we entered the restaurant, a departing patron called out, “The food is delicious.” It was pretty good. I had fries and slaw with mine. What an indulgence!

We returned to the park and tried to go to the Devastation Trail parking lot. Rangers blocked the way. The lot was full. We went back to the visitors’ center. We were going to go home and come back at 8 pm but decided to give it another go. We had no trouble getting a space. We got out and started hiking. We were dressed for the weather. I wore a short-sleeved T-shirt, with a long-sleeved shirt, and a heavy sweatshirt with a windbreaker. I brought gloves with me but didn’t need them. It can get cold here at night.

It’s a mile hike to the viewing site to see the eruption. Most of the way is paved but unlit. I wore a miner’s flashlight Yvette lent me. It wasn’t a pleasant walk. All I could focus on was the ground before me for any irregularities. We walked a gravel path for another five hundred feet at the end of the paved section. To our right across the caldera was the eruption. Eh! It looked like a good-sized Girl Scout fire. Every once in a while, it would flare. Someone had thrown a sappy log on the fire. Eh! Again

John and I headed back earlier. I wanted to walk at my own pace, knowing I would be slower than everyone else. John said his hip was bothering him. We headed home to the rental.

It was cold inside. There were space heaters in each room. We had dressed warmly for the hike to view the volcano but not for sleeping. I usually sleep in the buff. That wasn’t going to work in this situation. I slept in my clothes under four blankets. Christine slept under an electric blanket on the convertible couch in the living room.

Thursday, November 24, 2022

What was in that Thai food? I slept straight through the night until 5. Holy cow! I started my in-bed exercises but fell asleep quickly. I finally forced myself out of bed at seven am. I let Elsa out the bathroom door so she could do whatever business she had to. I prepared her food. Dr. Marty says to add warm water to the food to produce gravy. I added water to warm in the electric teakettle. It is usually quite hot. I had to wait until it was cool enough to feed Elsa. I got dressed in the meantime.

Elsa and I ran into Phil this morning. We turned around and walked with him. He was having Thanksgiving alone. His wife, Carol, would return to Hawaii tomorrow. We talked about the anticipated ‘gale winds.” He said, as we all do, there probably would be nothing. That is the pattern here. The weather bureau warned not to plan outdoor Thanksgiving feasts and to batten everything down that could blow away.

I had another half a bagel with cream cheese and lox again this morning, as I had every morning since my guests arrived. Then I had some pineapple and papaya. Lovely. However, I was still hungry. I am usually full when I eat less. My hunger doesn’t stop until I have a Hersey’s milk chocolate nugget with whole almonds. I am indeed addicted.

I wasn’t feeling well. I was exhausted by 8:30 am. I lay down to nap but had no success. Something was up. Was I coming down with something? I sat down to meditate. I realized I was in deep grief. I am alienated from my own family. I’ve tried reconciliation, but the terms offered are not workable. It’s a choice of two types of pain. The pain of total loss is easier for me. But this was a bad day.

I called my friend Judy and asked her if she could listen and not give suggestions. I told her how sad I was about the situation. Interpersonal relationships are essential to me, but not on any terms. I’ve done a lot through my teaching to help people. I have changed people’s lives dramatically. But those don’t feel like the most satisfying accomplishments. My biggies are my relationship with Mike, my life partner of forty-five years, and my relationship with my mom.

My relationship with my mother was a disaster when I was a child. I held on to the belief that it was possible to work something out, something that would feel good for both of us. In my thirties, I told my mom I needed time off after I met Mike and was in a committed relationship with him. I had been scared of her all my life, tried everything to deal with it, and finally needed separation. I wrote her that I had a dream in my heart that she would live with me in her old age, surrounded by children. I envisioned her sitting in a chair on a hillside with children running around her. She was smiling. Given what our relationship was about at the time, I didn’t hold out much hope.

I wrote that letter in August, and in November, she called me. “I’m an old woman. I forgive you. You can come to Thanksgiving.” There is no recognition of me as a separate person with agency. I told her, “Mom. I’m not ready yet.”

The following year, a cousin called to invite me to her house for Thanksgiving. My mom would be coming. I said yes. It was neutral territory. I thought this might be all it would ever be: a polite, distant relationship. It was sad.

My mom and I greeted each other cordially. I had an internal resolution. She could only say three nasty comments to me. If she said more, I would say I had to leave- without explanation. There would be no point. She didn’t see my point of view, and I didn’t want to be subjected to endless criticism. There would have been a pointless argument if I had told her what I thought.

That fateful Thanksgiving dinner was in 1974. In February of 1983, my mom moved in with Mike and me. It was never all l would have wanted it to be, but it was enough. I got great satisfaction from having her in my life. I got to be the good daughter I always wanted to be.

I can hear a therapist criticizing my choice. Maybe, maybe not. This is what I felt called to do; it gave me satisfaction and a true sense of fulfillment. Was it all a neurotic attachment? Who cares? What difference did that make? I loved it. I was happy. I am still happy about my life choice.

Shortly before Mike died, I asked him if he regretted having my mom live with us. He said, “No, it made our hearts bigger.” For both of us, that was what life was about.

A side note. When Mike and I first met, we never talked about having children. We talked about taking care of our mothers in their old age. I was lucky. My relationship with my mom changed enough to make it a satisfying choice. While Mike’s mother toned down in her old age, she and Mike never reached a point where a close relationship was possible. She resented him from the moment he was born. How do I know? She told me her attitude toward him when she saw her baby was a boy.

Both my mom and Mike are gone now. I think of them; I miss them, but I don’t feel deep pain over their loss. Those were good, satisfying relationships with deep love. I was one lucky lady on both counts.

The promised wind finally arrived. It was nothing close to what the weather forecaster warned. We were told to expect gale winds. Outdoor Thanksgiving celebrations were canceled in preference for indoor events. We were told to batten down all loose objects. It was initially supposed to arrive the night of the twenty-third, bringing in a cold front. It was calm until mid-day today. There were a few gusts that would have blown my hat off, but nothing more than that. No rain, unfortunately. We desperately need it.

The Zims, my guests, went south today to visit the Refuge Center and some other spots along the way. They got home around four. We all napped. John cooked dinner. He made the precooked stuffed turkey breast I bought from B, which he got from Costco, broccoli, and local sweet potatoes Carol bought in Waimea the other day. He forgot to cook the salmon I had defrosted to ensure we had enough food. We had more than enough without it. The turkey breast was delicious. It was a relaxed meal without too much prep. Carol and I played a few rounds of double solitaire while John prepared dinner. It was fun. I won a few rounds. That was surprising since I hadn’t played solitaire with a deck of cards in years, and my eyes had been bothering me all day. Something was off. My weak eye was wandering too much, or the glasses were askew.

I had more apple pie, and they had pumpkin pie. B had been up to claim his slice of apple pie.

Wednesday, November 23, 2022

I had a session with Adolescent D today. I wanted to work on spelling. I dictated the text of something he wrote for a school assignment. He didn't transcribe it himself; he dictated. I had him sound out the words. When he misspelled one, I ran it through spell check. I wanted him to see that Spell Check could give him the correct spelling if he came close enough. He could often recognize which of the options to use. He spelled many of the words correctly. Spelling exercises support word recognition skills. Instead of using the text he wrote, I used text from a book I had at hand for another student.

While I looked for text to use in today's spelling exercise, I asked him about his school day. He said he went to his old school today to help out. I thought, "Great! He is volunteering. Wouldn't it be great if he read with young children, helping them with their reading? He would be fantastic for that job. He is a gentle, caring person." He said no; he didn't read to the younger children. He didn't say why, but I suspected he was too embarrassed to read to anyone.

It had been a while since I had done oral reading with him. We worked on analyzing words for their syllable pattern. I pulled up some third-grade-level text. As I suspected, he would never pass an oral reading test at this level. He regularly gets three to four words wrong, either skipping the word or misreading it. That would be a failing grade at that level. Besides the words he misses, he reads fluently at a good pace. When we worked at this level last year, It would take a whole session to get through one paragraph. Now, he can complete four or five, even with interruptions to cover decoding rules.

I spoke to his mom later in the day. She said he was not helping out at the old school. He and another student, now also attending the online school with D, met to work together on the school's computers.

My guests came home from their northern visits to the Parker Ranch, the train museum, and Laupahoehoe Valley, where a tsunami wiped out all the homes and a school full of children. They stopped in Waimea on their way back to pick up some food, fresh fish, and sweet potatoes.

When John was preparing to cook our dinner, he discovered the problem with the stovetop; the igniters had a problem. When you turned on one burner, the igniters on the other ones kept firing. It was annoying but not dangerous. I had Sears repairmen out here three times trying to fix it. They said they replaced everything that could be replaced but couldn't fix the problem. Scott said he could disconnect the igniters, and I could manually light the burners. I told John about that. Within minutes, he asked me if I had matches. He unplugged them. Done!

John cooked rice for dinner. He didn't want to use my hot pot and insisted he preferred cooking rice on the stovetop. It came out crunchy. I hadn't warned him that our stove runs hotter than most.

The weather bureau warned that high winds blowing in a cold front were arriving this evening. So far, we've been fortunate; severe weather hasn't hit our island. A hurricane hit Kauai once. So far, so good for the Big Island, but with climate change, anything is possible. While we have some rain, we're in a drought now. ht a package of precooked stuffed turkey breast with sauce. He had two. I bought one from him for Thanksgiving dinner for my guests and me.

When Carol and Christine saw the size of those two pies, they laughed. The pies were ridiculously large for four people who weren't into gorging.

Tuesday, November 22, 2022

My guests went sightseeing without me. Yay! Guests that are happy to let me do what I want to and go about enjoying themselves without me!!!! I spent most of the day working on the blog updates and catching up on the current back updates I send out by email.

I got an email from eighth-grade K's teacher:

I was very excited and proud of K's growth in his writing. It is important to note that while K worked tremendously hard to create this piece of writing, he did require about 3 hours of almost exclusively 1-1 time to make it happen. All of these ideas are his, but he needed a lot of support to get them expressed and into writing. He needed additional support and reminders about formatting and organizing as well. I am happy to provide support to help him reach success and feel confident with writing, but I wonder what our plan is moving forward to increase his levels of independence. Just something to consider as we move into the second semester and prepare for high-school-level writing.

This is evidence he didn't cheat. What a relief! If I had known that he had help in the beginning, I would never have doubted it. My father helped me nonstop until I was well into my teens. In my case, I always felt I didn't know how to do the work. My father gave me an inappropriate understanding of learning in general and school specifically. He taught me if I didn't have a deep understanding, I didn't know anything. When I was twenty-six in grad school, I sat with a group of friends. In response to something said, I said, "I understand it here (pointing to my head) but not here (pointing to my gut)." My friend said, "Finally." I had never made that distinction. As a result, I needed a lot of help.

As you can see from K's teacher's email, she gave him a lot of help. He had an interesting response when I told him what his teacher said. "She didn't spend that much time with me." "I wrote it; she just helped with the formatting." Her description probably came closer to reality than his. No, I don't think he's lying. In my experience, students with trouble with verbal expression need help understanding the difference between content and form. I will work to pull details out of the student and then give them a sentence. They will say, "Yeah. That's what I said." As far as they're concerned, any words that express their idea is their writing. I can imagine K telling his mom he had written the paper, and it never occurred to him to tell her he had help. I will have to explore this. I did ask him today if he told his mom his teacher helped him. He didn't remember.

B called. He was at Costco. Did I want anything? The place had been packed for several days as people bought food for Thanksgiving. Costco makes some great pies. They sell their delicious twenty-four-inch pumpkin pie for five dollars. They are stacked in the center of the produce room. They sell their twenty-four-inch apple pie for fifteen dollars. I asked him to pick up one of each. He delivered them to my door and gave me both pies as gifts, asking for a slice from each. He told me he also bought a package of precooked stuffed turkey breast with sauce. He had two. I bought one from him for Thanksgiving dinner for my guests and me.

When Carol and Christine saw the size of those two pies, they laughed. The pies were ridiculously large for four people who weren't into gorging.

Monday, November 21, 2022

Today was my final day before my guests arrived at 4:30. Carol sent me the flight information, and I looked it up. She had told me earlier it was around 5 pm. That was half an hour less than I thought I had. I had a lot left to do.

I texted Mei as I worked. Was she still on to help me pick them up from the airport? They rented a car from her through Turo. No. She couldn’t. She would have Judy and Paulette pick them up. I wanted to make sure they had a break. They worked hard driving the Turo cars back and forth from the airport. Oh, well.

I started washing the bathroom floor. Scott had stopped by yesterday to clean the rest of the room. Yvette had vacuumed the guest room floor the day before because Scott thought he might be sick. He said he made a point of staying away from me in the days before he left, concerned about passing it on to me.

I had more vacuuming to do. I also had to wipe down the counters in the kitchen and both bathrooms. Scott came over midday to see if he could fix the air conditioner. I have a freestanding console with an expandable tube stuck into a window. When we first got the appliance, B made this possible. I bought a plexiglass panel to fit over the screen of the casement window. He cut the bottom of the screen, leaving room for the mouth of the venting tube. The duct tape he attached held for a while, but it didn’t. The glue residue from the old tape made applying new tape a problem. I bought Flex Tape, as the good people at Ace Hardware recommended- and they are good people. Everyone there is either knowledgeable or will refer me to another associate. The wonder tape didn’t hold. The plexiglass pulled away from the frame.

When Scott looked at it, he said the problem was with the design of the tube; it needed to be longer. It puts too much pull on the tape. Tube 1; tape 0. He pushed the appliance close to the window and pressed on the existing tape. Bingo. He didn’t need the tape I bought. I will get my thirty dollars back.

I went to Goodwill in the new industrial center near Costco, only to discover they had moved to a new downtown location. I started to head that way and realized I didn’t have the time, mainly since I wasn’t sure where the new site was. I turned back into the industrial center and headed for Costco. I had to get lox. I had all those bagels and cream cheese, but that was nothing without the lox.

I had asked for an early appointment with the M & W sisters, so I could pick up my guests from the airport. Second-grade M could make it earlier, but sixth-grade W wouldn’t get home until later. M was hesitant but could name the numbers 211, 432, and 786 when I wrote them. That didn’t take long. Why did she miss it in class? When I spoke to the mother, I told her I noticed she couldn’t do that and started teaching her math. The mom said she had seen this problem, too. Her report card said she was reading well but was having math difficulties. The mother sighed in relief and said thank you.

I had M sign on shortly after three-thirty figuring. I would be through at four and have plenty of time to finish cleaning and pick up my friends from the airport. The mom texted me to say she was having problems signing on. It was about twenty of when she did. I was on for no more than five minutes when I got a text from Carol saying they had landed. I knew they had checked luggage, and it would take time.

I called Paulette to tell her they were in. No answer. I texted Paulette. No response. I did a quick sweep of the hallway and my bedroom and bathroom. It wasn’t that filthy in either location, but a sweeping makes a huge difference. I wasn’t going to get the bay window washed before they came.

I grabbed Elsa and headed out. When I got to the car, I realized I hadn’t emptied it of miscellaneous junk. Since it looked like it would be just me picking them up, I needed every inch of room.

Paulette was right behind me as we entered the airport. I tried to call her several times without success. She finally called me. Why didn’t I go to the cell phone lot? They were in. I would pull up first. I knew who they were, and they would recognize me. Paulette pulled up behind me. We needed her. There was not enough room in my trunk to fit all the suitcases. Christine greeted me with a big hug and said, “I want to thank you now for letting me join John and Carol.”

I knew a lot about Christine because Mike, John, Carol, and I played family catchup every time we saw each other. However, I hadn’t seen her more than three times over the last forty years. I knew this would work out just fine.

I made sure there was some food in the house for dinner. I bought a large case of eggs, 24, from Costco and a large package of lox. I also stopped at Safeway to buy cream cheese. As far as I was concerned, we were set. Carol chuckled at the idea and proposed we order take-out Thai food. I recommended Original Thai, but they weren’t open. Instead, we ordered from Krua Thai. I went with Carol and John to pick it up. It’s hard to get at because you can’t cross Kuakini to enter their parking lot. I knew the back way.