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

Friday, March 13, 2026

Tuesday, February 14, 2023

The alarm went off at 5:30, as usual. I was up by six. I had to get up early today; Yvette was giving an extra yoga driveway class for Valentine’s. It was Jared and Corey’s wedding anniversary. Jared died several months ago. It hit the community of people who knew him hard. Yvette was one of those people.

It was frigid today. I had on long pants, a hooded sweatshirt, and a jacket. When I ran into Vince and Juli, she had her hood up. I had never seen her with her head covered before. When I checked the temperature at the airport,

it was sixty-five degrees. That means it was five degrees cooler up here at our altitude. I can watch the temperature drop as I turn off Queen K and climb Ka’iminani.

Thought I only had Iz and her brother J for the day. Lisa, the chiropractor, called as I was lying down for a nap. She reminded me that I had a 12:30 appointment with her. It was noon now. I would make it in time. Naturally, she was running late. Lisa has a standard protocol except for some isolated attention she pays to a requested area. Mine is the upper left side of my body. As my acupuncturist pointed out, the muscle that bothers me is a superficial one that runs from the top of my head down to the little toe.

Naturally, I was tired when I got home. I napped.

When I met with first-grade Iz and third-grade J, I continued working on reading with Iz, pushing decoding. I hadn’t had a session with J for several weeks. There had been no incidents of outbursts of anger. The other day, he attacked his sister, kicking her in the ribs. He didn’t want to work; he didn’t want to talk about it.

His mother came into the room and handed him a piece of paper. I asked what it was. He said it was a project assignment from school. His mother came back in and explained why she thought it was important. He insisted he couldn’t do the project and ripped the paper.

There was anger and frustration on his face. He refused to cooperate with what I wanted to do. I said, “Okay. But you must stay on Zoom until half an hour is up.” He lay down so I could hardly see him, but he didn’t leave the room. We sat in silence; I prayed. I talked about my experiences with unpleasant emotions. When the session was over, he left quickly.

I spoke to his mother afterward. “How was he after the session?” He was transformed. He was calm. He went right into his room and got to work on his project.

His mother told me his father had been over during the weekend. He had criticized J repeatedly. Dad’s life is a mess. He is an alcoholic- just about suicidal. When drunk, he often goes into fits of rage, saying horrible things. While in the marriage, he was occasionally physical. J and Iz witnessed many nasty scenes between their parents when they were still married. His dad has visitation rights. Unfortunately, he is not always sober or on good behavior. J is a nerd; he is bright and a good student. Dad thinks his son is a nerd. He wants his son to be tough and streetwise. In my understanding, streetwise means always assuming someone is out to get you and make sure they don’t. There’s only one point of view and one response. J is capable of more complex responses. Dad considers that ability a failing. The feelings J doesn’t want to talk about aren’t anger but what lies underneath it.

Mom has tried several therapists. None have had any impact. She said what I am doing has been, and she plans to stick with it.

Monday, February 13, 2023

No one signed up for my office hours through Step Up Tutoring. I checked the Office Hours tab. My Literacy Hour was not posted. I thought I had been unceremoniously dropped. It was only later that I found the email from Maria telling me they had discontinued my office hours for the time being as they were focusing exclusively on math for the duration.

I had Adolescent D at 2 pm. I asked him if he had made an effort to write neatly. He said no, it just came out that way. It required no special effort. Wow! The tracing procedure bypassed his conscious mind and went straight to his unconscious mind. I will see if I can apply this principle to other areas where he has problems. D’s memory is very poor. More precisely, it is his short-term working memory that is poor. That’s usually the first stop for all new material. It is held there until it can be downloaded into long-term memory in the unconscious mind. I hope we can figure out how to get some phonics rules in that way.

This modeling procedure is different from standard drills. Drill usually requires more input from the students. Cards are flashed, and they have to recall the word or the number fact. Here, the student does practically nothing. He relaxes and observes; that’s it. I have used modeling before to teach recalcitrant students. I haven’t used it as a bypass for a faulty working memory. If it does work, I will teach him to set up these ‘drills’ for himself. He would have to make a tape of him or someone else repeating the target information.

I had first-grade M at 4 pm. We continued working on three-digit addition and subtraction with regrouping. I wanted to make sure she was secure with this work.

I’ve been listening to Paul Bloom’s 2008 lecture course on Introduction to Psychology. He is big on evolutionary psychology. Bloom takes the selfish gene approach. We do everything to pass on our genes. All altruism is based on that.

I heard a lecture in the 90s in a Princeton-sponsored colloquium that said people are driven by a need to see themselves as good people. Even confessed serial killers have declared they are good people who have only done bad things. Bloom did not account for our need to see ourselves in a positive light.

The need to see ourselves as good people has its basis in survival. In another part of the lecture, Bloom described what happens to cheaters in any species. They lose the support of others, which can put their lives in danger. The freedom to ignore the opinions of our fellows is a luxury of the abundance we currently enjoy. This wasn’t always true.

I watched season two of The Morning Show. It was more complex than season one. Critics said its failure is that everyone is in full-bore crisis. It’s just too much. They also said the acting was incredible. It is.

Sunday, February 12, 2023

Elsa was at the bathroom door this morning, asking to be let out when I got up. I walked over to the doggie door and called her. She came to me and went right out on her own. This is huge progress.

I went to church with Judy and Paulette this morning because of my unusable car. I handled Paulette, sitting in the back seat, a small bag of lilikoi, sharing my stash from Carol. I wore a mask while we drove. Judy made a comment, "We're driving with Zorro." I corrected her, "Zorra."

After mass, I spoke to Margaret, who runs the catechism program on Sundays after the nine am mass. A few weeks ago, I asked her to let people know I wanted to tutor their kids. I offered a sliding scale. No one responded. From what Judy and Margaret say, I know many of these students need help. She suggested I speak to the parents directly. She meets with the children and parents a few minutes after the mass and before the classes start. Only a few students were there today. It was Superbowl Sunday; we all have our priorities. The following weekend, classes were canceled. I would meet with the parents the weekend after.

Judy accompanied me to the gravesite. I wanted her to look at the stained cement wedges for the gravesite. She had the same reaction he did, "It looks like marble." I still didn't see it. I will wait until I do before I ask Fr. Lio to glue the granite plaques to the wedges.

Judy and Paulite had to make a few stops on the way home. We went to Safeway. I picked up a few items. I checked Hersey's milk chocolate kisses with whole almonds. Whadaya know? They were on sale. I grabbed five packages. Judy had to go to the airport afterward to pick up a Turo car. They drive cars back and forth from the airport for Mei and Peter's Turo business.

When I got home, I read the Kia manual more carefully. I found the answer in a special section of the manual. When I saw it, I yelled Scott's name. He came out immediately concerned. I don't usually yell in alarm. He said he found the answer, too.

Scott lifted the car hood. He knew where the knob for the cable was because of his research; I would have been stuck. When he pulled it, we could hear the release. I was pretty pissed the service men at Kia hadn't told me what to do. Then again, they may not have known. I planned to call them tomorrow and tell them- so much for being a dumb old lady.

I had a session with second-grade M at four pm. I reviewed three-digit addition and subtraction with regrouping. She knocked it out of the park. I gave her a challenge. Subtracting a three-digit number where the top one had a zero in the tens place. 405- 296=. She had no idea what to do but wanted to keep trying. I loved it. She got as far as changing the 405 to 3 10 15. She didn't get that she had to switch the 10 to a 9. I begged her to let me show her. I was really frustrated. I pretend bawled. Her dad came to the door concerned. I called him after the session and explained my behavior. M was unperturbed. She knew I was kidding. This girl is a totally different human being than when I started working with her. Her dad told me it shows up in many aspects of her life. This is one of the things I work on with my students.

If she has a stick-to-it attitude, she can learn anything. I told her how proud I was of her. I told her that she was so uncomfortable when we first started that she'd get up and walk around the room. She reacted similarly to Mike when I praised him by comparing it to his old behavior. He saw it more as a criticism than a compliment. Am I naïve about my own reaction if someone did that to me? I imagine I would feel good about my accomplishment. See how far you've come! I think I managed to convince her I was praising her.

Saturday, February 11, 2023

While my alarm is set for 5:30 on weekdays, it doesn’t go off on the weekends. I have no reason to get up that early any day of the week now that I no longer have the seven am Bikram class. I’m usually up by seven, seven-thirty at the latest. This morning, I loved staying in bed. When I finally decided to get up, it was ten to nine. That was a shock. I thought it was eight and wanted to go back to bed. I had a nine am session.

I grabbed Elsa off the bed and brought her to the doggie door behind the bureau. She balked. I encouraged her and then cornered her. No response. Okay, I tried to push the plastic flap open for her. Oh, dear, the stiff plastic door had dropped. When I pulled it up, exposing the plastic flap, Elsa went through, did her business, and came back in. She’s good at using the door to come in but not go out yet. At least, I have never heard her going out. Maybe it’s because I’m not nearby when she does, but around when she comes back in. I do know she always gives me an argument when I place her in front of the door.

After our morning walk, I quickly prepared Elsa’s breakfast and texted Mama K to tell her I was running late. I grabbed some food and water and headed to the library for the Zoom session with the three kids.

I had Twin A first. I have her read the same low-level third-grade passage every session. She is making more wild guesses based on her memory of the passage. It’s not good. Making wild guesses based on knowledge of the material without regard for the letters is a reading strategy of poor readers. I repeatedly remind her to consider the letters. Also, I remind her to decode longer words one syllable at a time. I divided all multisyllabic words into syllables for her. It is a great opportunity to model the skill.

Then, I had A read a passage from the QRI. I finally compared this program to Jerry John’s evaluation program. QRI passages are more difficult. I don’t understand their grading system. She read more today than she had the other day. We came across the word wait; she read it as want. I isolated the ai and asked her to give me a good guess for the sound the vowel team might make. She said she didn’t know. I gave several clues and opportunities for her to make her best educated guess. “Could it be an /o/ sound?” “I don’t know.” I finally gave all the vowel sounds to choose from. The kids must learn to use statistical likelihood to figure out the sounds. She didn’t understand that ai made one sound instead of two. That said, she still read more today than a week ago. She reports improvement in her reading.

I had Twin E next. She has continuing memory problems. Twin A had issues, but she has improved a lot; E has not. I am pushing for her to learn to use automatic recall. I started using the Fernald drill procedure. It involves writing the target word, covering it up, and writing it from memory while saying it. I discovered E has excellent visual recall. Her problem is all in the auditory center.

Fourth grade K was off somewhere with his father. He is the most advanced of the three siblings. He catches on pretty fast, too.

I ignored the car problem for the day. I couldn’t get the charging plug out. The plan was to drive the car to the garage on Monday with the plug-in, pulling the cord through the driver’s side window. Later in the day, I tried to drive the car to Paulette’s to get more water. Elsa was in the passenger seat, my empty containers in the back seat. I hopped in, turned on the car- and couldn’t get the gear out of park. Oops! Guess I can’t drive it with it in - back to the drawing board.

I called Paulette to tell her I wouldn’t be up. She said to check on YouTube; I couldn’t be the only one with this problem. I had figured no one would if the Kia mechanics didn’t know how to deal with it.

There is a severe shortage of competent car mechanics on the island. They’re all leaving for the mainland. Housing may be the problem. Many renters are being forced to leave or live in their cars. You can’t do that if you have a family. It’s a mess- and it’s going to get worse.

When I shared my experience with the Kia service, I was regaled with stories of bad treatment by other car dealerships. Because many mechanics have left, the remaining ones are overwhelmed. I know the owner of a local garage I dealt with before I bought the Kia is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He has an overwhelming amount of work and can’t find competent help. He has nightmares of a car he worked on failing and killing someone.

My neighbor Carol dropped off yellow and purple lilikoi. I am slowly adapting to the local food. While I am open to new ideas and foods if someone else prepares them, I have difficulty incorporating them into my food prep routine.

Friday, February 10, 2023

I finished over 4,000 steps in my morning walk.

I called B to see if he knew someone else who did cement staining. He had mentioned a company he worked with in an earlier conversation. I am unhappy with the way the wedges look now. Damon said they looked like marble. The grey is too dark to have that effect. To me, they look like dirty cement. B said the company he dealt with was no longer in business, back to dealing with Damon or accepting the work as finished. He would charge me twice as much to do more work. He is the only game in town.

I had some excitement with my car this morning. I couldn't get the electric charging plug out of my car. I tried everything I knew and called Kia. While I pushed the number for the service department, I got the parts department. The guy who answered didn't know but would ask in service. He reported that I should unlock the car. Lo and behold, the car was locked. It is never locked, and I mean never. I locked it yesterday in town because I left my computer inside. I must have locked it by accident when I got home. I unlocked the car. Doing that had no effect. I tried turning the car on and off. That had no effect. I called Kia again.

Again, I got the parts department, but a different guy. He went and checked with service again, came back, and said, "Press the button two times." I assumed he meant the release button. Their response made it clear they think I'm a ditzy female who can't handle the most basic technical problem: unplugging something. I hope they are right.

Scott tried to get it out. He didn't have any success either. He said he would do some research. I had been so upset by the turn of events it never occurred to me to do some research on my own. I got the manual out. I didn't find anything that looked right.

I planned to go up to Paulette to get more Kangen water. I assumed I could drive the car with the plug-in if it was unplugged. I would pull the cord through the driver's side window. I already knew the car would turn on. No problem. Then I tried to shift the car out of park; no such luck. It can only be unlocked if it's attached to the charge. It left me with a completely useless car and a service department that wouldn't even treat my problem respectfully. I was upset but remained remarkably calm.

I called Paulette to say I wasn't coming up to her house. She suggested I check YouTube. I couldn't be the only person who had this problem.

I had an appointment with my acupuncturist. I asked her to work on the pain in my left shoulder. It was interfering with my sleep. It could be the after-effect of my falling down a flight of stairs when I was thirty-six, resulting in a rotator cuff tear and a jammed shoulder. Or, it could be from the rotator cuff operation twenty-seven years after the fall. Or, it could be from endless rounds of FreeCell or the side effect from the work the acupuncturist and chiropractor did on that muscle that runs from the top of my head down to my little toe along the left side of my spine. Releasing that muscle puts a different demand on my shoulder muscles. I fell asleep on the table. I never heard her leave. I have no idea how long I was there.

I had an appointment with Adolescent D. We started the session with letter tracing. He said he saw a difference in his handwriting. He named letters that were better. He said his 'a' was pristine. He texted me copies of something he wrote a while ago and yesterday.

The best I can figure out from my notes is that we started the letter-tracing activity the second week of January. We met two days a week in January, half an hour each. That's one hour a week for three weeks. We spent about three minutes at the beginning of each session with the tracing activity. In February, we started meeting three times a week. That's two weeks with three half-hour sessions; three minutes three times a week makes a total of nine minutes a week times two weeks, which equals eighteen minutes in February and eighteen minutes in January. The whole thing was something on the order of thirty-six minutes. My notes are less accurate than a researcher's. I am not a researcher; I am a teacher. It could be less than thirty-six minutes or more. Either way, this is the result. D only does a little handwritten work. He types.

We don't know when he changed; we only see when the change manifested. And here it is.

This is a stunning degree of change in a short time. What did we do? On Zoom, I selected the broad stroke in the draw function. I slowly wrote the letters on the Zoom whiteboard. Adolescent D followed my actions with the index finger of his writing hand at my pace. That's all we did. And that happened.

I asked him if he understood what his teachers said better. He said he didn't know. I wondered if he felt less annoyed when they talked. Yes. That's a good indication that there's been a change.

D has been working on his emotional reaction to his disability: anger at himself and self-hatred. He has to rise above the shame he feels because of his inadequacies. Those feelings interfere with his having a good life. When he comes across an unfamiliar word or misreads one, his pain interferes with him working systematically to decode or recall the word. He will only overcome his problem if he works on applying the procedures I've taught him. Suppose he never overcomes his limitations, poor reading, and poor auditory processing skills. In that case, he must learn to tell people he has difficulty and ask for help. He would have to tell people he has a problem and how to help him compensate for it. D has trouble remembering what he has been told to do. He could tell his boss he has this problem, "Please, record your instructions on my phone."

D told a story of when he told someone he couldn't read and asked for help. He ordered food at Willie's Hot Chicken. He told the server he couldn't read and asked her to read the side orders. For him to have done this is monumental. I asked him about the server. He had already said it was a woman. I asked how old she was. "Old enough to work there." In other words, she was not old enough to be a soft grandmother or a loving mother; she was a young woman his age. Then I asked if she was attractive. Yes. Holy moly! A young man with a problem casually told a young, fertile female he couldn't read. Unbelievable!!!

Despite my successes, I need help getting new students to work with, even when I offer to do it for free. It is profoundly humiliating. I take heart when I think of how even popular brands advertise like crazy. My second issue is getting people to adopt my work. I can appreciate shifting from the familiar to something new is difficult. But they show no interest. First grade Iz's teacher was blown away by her improvement over a month; actually, only two hours of work. She asked what I did. Iz's mom gave her my contact information. Did the teacher contact me? What do you think?

I was reading Time of Magicians about the great philosophers at the beginning of the twentieth century. Wittgenstein and Heidegger had trouble getting people to understand and appreciate their work. Wittgenstein met with Bertrand Russell for three days in a Swiss hotel and tried to get him to understand his work to no avail. Is my work as significant? I don't know. Am I as frustrated? Yep. Those poor guys had it worse than me.

Thursday, February 9, 2023

I had to get up early, at six, because we had driveway yoga this morning. I don’t do my in-bed exercises when there is yoga. I get those stretches in during the class. I passed on using a chair today for the first time in years and opted to sit on yoga blocks. I needed two sets (one for each buttock) two blocks high. I tried to squat to sit. I got nowhere near low enough to make contact with them. I used to do that. Okay, it was thirty years ago.

Melissa called. She is a retired Kaiser doctor who travels to Seattle and the Australian outback as a volunteer obstetrician. She mostly spends her time delivering babies but also does some surgery. I told her about my UTI problem. I suspected one earlier in the month and had a urine analysis. The doctor prescribed amoxicillin before the culture came in. A few days after I finished the antibiotics, the symptoms returned. I didn’t understand why the infection wasn’t gone. I requested another urine analysis. I wasn’t convinced I didn’t have a more serious problem. My dog Chantey had repeated urinary tract problems. It was cancer. Did I have cancer?

Melissa directed me to look up the culture results, which take longer to process than the initial test. While the first urine analysis reported ambiguous results, the culture said E. coli. Melissa told me amoxicillin wouldn’t have any impact on E. coli. My problem was clear. The doctor prescribed a stronger antibiotic. In the future, I will insist on waiting for the culture to return before taking an antibiotic. Because I didn’t, I had two rounds of antibiotics. I prefer to avoid this medication.

Scott came in and said he couldn’t find the chainsaw or the commercial-sized sprayer in the shed. We had a moment of panic. Did the gardeners confuse their equipment with mine, or did they help themselves? I thought to check with B. Did he have the equipment? Yes, he did. Of course, I had given him permission to use it. He stored it in his area instead of returning it to the shed. He would make more use of it than I would. I said I preferred keeping it in the shed when not in use.

Damon, the artist, called yesterday afternoon to say he had finished staining the wedges. I should meet him and give him the final payment. I was disappointed. The wedges look like dirty cement. That’s what I was trying to avoid.

Nonetheless, I wanted the wedges moved to the gravesite. We needed someone to help Damon lift them. A man walked into the cemetery dressed in workmen’s clothes. I asked him if he could help. He looked at the gravestones and said, “Those are mine.” Huh? It was the man I hired to make them. How’s that for coincidence?

I had an appointment with Melanie, the aesthetician. I saw her once before. She concentrated on lovely SPA treatments to make the surface look beautiful. This time, I asked her to focus on extractions. I learned I had large pores. I have noticed them on my nose. Yuck! Melanie explained people are born with pore size. She had small pores. The large pores collect dirt, creating black and white heads. She cleaned up the clogged pores on my face with a size 18 hypodermic needle. I had no idea how she used it.

I asked Melanie what made her get into this profession. People’s stories are interesting. She had terrible acne when young. That made her interested. The rest is history.

I went to a hair appointment upon leaving Melanie. She knew Randee, my hairdresser, and had a gift for her. She wrote a quick note and handed it to me. It’s the Big Island; everyone knows everyone. I knew I would be early for my appointment. I brought my computer with me to do some work while waiting in the car. Randee was running late, to boot. I was tired. Set my alarm, texted Randee to let her know where I was, pushed the car seat back, and napped.

It is always great seeing Randee. She is an up personality, and she loves cutting my hair. I let her do whatever she wants. Her cuts look great until the moment it is cut again, no matter how long the interval. During Covid, I waited three months before I got a haircut. My hair didn’t have a bad moment. Some people complain about the service available here; it’s a third-world country. It was one in the sixties and seventies. A friend’s father brought his own toothpaste when he came to visit. We now have Safeway, Walmart, Target, and Costco. You can get whatever kind of toothpaste you like. I have found some of the best service providers ever. I have lived in Brooklyn, New York, Princeton, New Jersey, and Columbus, Ohio. Here, I have found the best of everything on my first try.

Wednesday, February 8, 2023

I met Damon, the artist, in the cemetery and gave him half the cost in cash. We reviewed his plans. He called at the end of the day to say he was done. No wonder he wanted half before he started. He charged an outrageous amount of money. He said he would be finished by the end of the week. It took a few hours. Oh, well. The folks who gave me his name at Bonded Materials tried to warn me. He is also the only act in town.

I had a session with Adolescent D. We started with the letter tracing exercise. I don't know what effect the exercise may have. I do know he likes to do it. Thirty-five years ago, Emmie Spies told me that there is a relationship between handwriting and attention. Attention is one of D's problems.

D is dealing with self-hatred because of his disability. Unfortunately, anger at self is a normal reaction when we can't function like others. I told D that if I thought it helped for a minute, I would encourage it. However, anger at himself for his reading problem works against fixing the issue because it makes him want to avoid it.

We sat with his anger; it ran hot and then to cold hatred. (The trick (and it is a trick) is to observe the sensations of anger and hate with a calm mind and curiosity. If you haven't experienced the effect of this, it sounds weird. If you have succeeded, you know the bad feeling dissolves.)

As the session progressed, I didn't have a direction. We sat in silence and observed sensations. Then this question came up: Why do I hate myself? Fantastic. Confusion is wonderful. It means he's prepared to question what he is doing now. I'm not talking about his conscious mind. The unconscious mind can hold different perspectives or opinions than our conscious ones. We are not just what we think consciously. If we want to gain control over ourselves, we must be aware of our unconscious bias. While our conscious minds must be open to change, it cannot affect change.

Among other problems, D's memory is poor. I thought of working with him on memorizing sight words as I was with Twin E, but I thought better of it. He was in a confused state: that's a great improvement. I was afraid if he experienced failure, it would tip him back into being overwhelmed with self-hatred. Better to wait until he has made more progress in lessening his adverse reaction to making errors and reading in general.

I had Mama K's crew. I worked with Twin E on the Fry sight word list. She is in third grade and still struggling with the words in the first list. I told her she was ahead when I started tutoring her and her sister. I thought she would be the one who made the better progress and worried about Twin A. Then Twin A showed an improvement in her memory. Twin E always tries to decode words consciously. She has to force herself to use her automatic memory. Then, when she does, I can see she is not using the correct part of the brain to have success.

I continued watching The Morning Show. I'm enjoying it.

Tuesday, February 7, 2023

I discovered I left my stylus at Bobby and Lauren’s house yesterday. I used it for my appointment with second-grade M on Sunday afternoon. Monday evening, Bobby texted me to tell me I had left it. I thought, ‘No worry. I’ll buy a new one.’ That is more easily said than done. I went to Office Max. They didn’t have it. I went to Target, but they didn’t have it. I told Bobby not to worry about it. I ordered one on Amazon. Yay for Amazon! In the meantime, I could use my finger on the screen or the mouse pad.

I drove to the church to meet with Damon, the fellow planning to do the cement staining of the wedges for the gravestones. Fr. Lio agreed to meet us and help Damon unload the wedges from my car. Lio didn’t show up right away. I was concerned he had either forgotten or had something come up. Priests need to respond to emergencies. I went to the office to check. He wasn’t there. Exiting, I saw him cross the parking lot, heading for the cemetery.

I had successfully backed the car into the best parking space. Lio and Damon lifted the wedges from the car, placed them on a low stone wall, and climbed over. Damon said he would lay down a tarp so the stain didn’t touch anything. Lio notices a black mat sitting in front of another gravesite. It was the perfect size for the two wedges. Damon would bring additional tarps when he did the work.

Protecting the ground from staining is a joke. The cemetery isn’t well maintained. It’s bare dirt irregularly covered with lava gravel and weeds. My friend Jean found it a peaceful place. Hmmm! It’s where Mike would have wanted to be buried. It’s where people remember him fondly. It’s where members of the parish will visit his grave. It’s where he belongs.

Damon presented a palate of color stains. He suggested a dark gray rather than the brown I was considering going with. I knew I had no idea what I was doing. I was so grateful I had someone who knew what they were doing. I said whatever he did would be better than I could do with less damage to me or the surrounding area. We settled on the dark grey with flicks of black and a semi-gloss sealer.

I had another appointment with first-grade Iz. Her mother told me the school reported a 20% increase after a month’s work. It was four half-hour sessions. The school used homogenous grouping across grade levels. Iz was put into a higher reading group. While I have taught school forever and know a double-digit increase is good after a year’s work, I was not sure what Iz’s reading level was. Was she now on grade level? Was she still somewhat below? Was she above grade level now?

I checked with Iz’s brother on how his week went. He had another incident without a problem. His anger never got the better of him.

Monday, February 6, 2023

I slept well. I heard a woman’s voice talking to Koa as I woke up. At first, I thought it was Lauren, but it was Ali, his paternal grandmother. She arrived early and got Koa ready for school, so Bobby and Lauren could sleep. She would take me to the airport.

We didn’t take Koa to preschool. After getting up and dressed, he said he just wanted to rest a minute. He knelt down, put his head on a hassock, and fell asleep. He was still drained from his long night throwing up. He stayed home while Ali drove me to the airport and herself to work.

On the way, I heard some Koa stories. They pass a car dealership on their morning drive. Koa took a particular liking to a red Ferrari. Ali told him he had to save a lot of money to buy one. Koa started thinking of saving money immediately. His dad gave him a dollar for something. Koa wanted to save it for the Ferrari.

Every morning, Koa says, “I don’t want to go to school.” Ali says, “I don’t want to go to work.” Koa says, “Okay, you go to school, and I’ll go to work.” Ali tells him, “You don’t get to play games at work. It’s just work, work, work. No naps, no snacks.” Koa says, “Okay. You go to work, and I’ll go to school.” This child will be three in March. His verbal and thinking skills are off the charts. But he is still just a two-year-old with these advanced skills. He is absolutely delicious and delightful, but he makes the adults in his life run for their money.

Once I got to the airport, everything went smoothly. When I landed in Kona, Scott picked me up. The house is only a few miles away, about five miles from curbside to the driveway.

One day, a few months ago, I saw a woman walking down our street pulling a rolling suitcase. I had to ask her if she walked up from the airport. Yup. Now, I can say I’m within walking distance. That’s pushing it. It is not just a good five miles; most of the walk is up a steep hill.

Visiting with Lauren and Bobby was wonderful, but it also made me sad. They have a large (relative to my family) embracing family on both sides. I have a small family, and it’s not embracing. All I had was Mike. He meant the world to me. Sadness weighed heavily. Getting home felt good. I love my home. The common rooms can’t even be closed off from the outdoors. Nature embraces me.

I got home and napped. When I got up, I emailed my primary physician to say I suspected I had another UTI. I took the antibiotics for the last one the doctor prescribed. When I saw the test results, I was surprised to see the results were ambiguous. I wouldn’t take another dosage before I got clear results.

I watched more of The Morning Show on Apple TV. The review was mixed. A critic said they were trying for drama but didn’t quite make it. I’m enjoying it. Anniston, Reese, and Carell are excellent. The characters are complex. The subject is workplace sexual relations and the MeToo Movement. All variations on the problem are presented. There are no good guys who come out without a stain. It’s the human condition. Complex.

_____________

Musings

I’ve been reading Robert Wright’s Why Buddhism is True. He’s not arguing for the metaphysical aspects of Buddhism but the psychological ones. Buddha observed the human mind and came up with ideas that are only now being recognized by Western psychologists. Mind you, Buddha was around 2,500 years ago. Wow!

One of the truths is the concept of the non-self. This is tricky. Like the ego, perhaps identical to the ego, you can’t live with it, and you can’t live without it. We can’t walk around without an identity. I am an elderly, white woman, born and bred in New York, and now living on the Big Island in Hawaii in the USA. I have a master’s degree and am considered an intellectual. I like to think abstractly. I worked most of my life as a teacher in some capacity. I still think a lot about the educational process and tutor. I was married for 45 years to Michael D Ross. Now, I no longer am. He died. But none of these aspects of myself that make me are fixed. They could change at any moment. In that case, who am I?

Buddha was concerned about human suffering. He was looking for a way to ease it for people. He realized that while life causes us pain, we also add to our suffering. If I lost any of the aspects of myself listed above, I would still be me. Ah! I already have lost one of the aspects from above. Mike died. I had a strong sense of self beyond my relationship with Mike. I know people who don’t. My mother-in-law said she stopped being a person when her husband died. How’s that for achieving a non-self. She not only lost him, but she also lost her sense of self. Buddha’s point is we are more than whatever our identities are at any moment. Whatever the new self is about, it is worthy of respect and dignity. We were not what we thought we were. If our concept of self is ripped from us by life, we are never diminished.

On the other hand, Wright referred to a talk Buddha gave about not being our toothache. If we stop reacting to the pain, it subsides because that which causes suffering is eliminated. Huh? Now, I have some trouble with this. That may have been good advice in Buddha’s time when there was probably nothing to be done about a toothache other than pull it. Today, we have advanced dentistry. We would be fools to not do something about the tooth. An abscess can be fatal.

Buddhism sounds like it promotes indifference. That’s called the ‘near enemy of equanimity.” The purpose of mediation, as taught by Buddhism, is to calm over-reactivity. Once that’s dialed down, we can consider our options. There should be enough pain from the toothache to remind us not to neglect the problem.

Sunday, February 5, 2023

During the night, I would awake and hear Koa throwing up several times with his dad in attendance. In the morning, I learned his last episode was at 2 am. It was only then that the boy fell asleep.

Koa was fine for the rest of the day; no more throwing-up incidents, but he was sluggish and not up for eating much. Lauren offered me the same breakfast she had yesterday of fruit, yogurt, and granola. I was more than happy to accept it.

While Lauren and Bobby attended to their two young children, I was at the kitchen island typing away, working on updates. I needed to catch up. When Lauren and Bobby gathered themselves, we all went to the hotel to spend time with Susan and Roy. We sat by the poolside with the ocean right there.

Bobby took Koa to play in the ocean and later to swim in the pool. Susan spent a good part of her time wheeling Rio's carriage around. I sat and talked with Roy for a while.

Roy complained about a problem he had with one of his ankles. He twisted it. When the doctor examined it, he discovered it had suffered multiple injuries over the years. While the pain Roy initially suffered had subsided, it still bothered him and limited his activity level. I offered to do some healing. He didn't say no. He was reasonably cooperative for someone unfamiliar with this approach. I can appreciate the skepticism. I asked him about his pain level. It was a ten when he first injured it; it was now a four. I suggested he stop focusing on it. The best solution was to ignore it if he didn't harm it with activity.

We went home to shower and dressed for dinner to celebrate Susan's seventy-third birthday and Roy and Susan's wedding anniversary. On the way there, Lauren asked how her father had responded to the healing. "He wasn't outright rude." Bobby and Lauren laughed. I thought Roy did pretty well. Mike couldn't have done better.

Lauren and Bobby wanted to hire a babysitter for Koa because he had been sick the night before and could be challenging to control in a restaurant under the best circumstances. Their usual babysitter/nanny wasn't available. Her sister had been in a car accident, and she flew to the mainland to be with her.

Lauren found a babysitter online. Both Bobby and I were concerned. Stranger danger! How sad we have to think that way, but I grew up in a world where we got babysitters through people we knew. I called Judy, hoping she would know someone on Oahu, where she'd lived for thirty years. Lauren remained calm. She said she would check the person out when she arrived. If she didn't look okay, she would send her packing. Hannah arrived, and she was wonderful. She got on the floor and engaged Koa.

On the way to the restaurant, Bobby drove via a street filled with McMansions, thirty-million-dollar homes. Bobby's family home was in Kahala, but not in the wealthiest section. The high-end houses had a view of the water. They would be the first receivers of a tsunami.

Roy and Susan had dinner reservations at the Orchid, a four-star restaurant in the Halekulani Hotel in Waikiki. It was Susan and Roy's favorite place to stay when they came to Hawaii. They were not staying there on this visit. They stayed in the hotel closest to where Lauren and her family lived. The restaurant layout was wonderful but not particularly unusual for Hawaii. I've seen better views of the ocean and sunset. We were a group of nine. Bobby's mom, one of his sisters, her husband, and their son were there. Rio slept peacefully in his stroller.

The items on the menu were either unfamiliar or referenced: prawns, shrimp, or octopus, all seafood I'm allergic to. The only thing I was sure of on the menu was the steak. It was eh, but expensive. It wasn't very tasty; there were only two small potatoes. However, there were two delicious mushrooms. Sorry, I don't know what kind.

After dinner, we all said goodbye and headed home. I wanted to change my flight. I realized the one I had was early enough to get me caught in Honolulu's rush hour traffic. It's bumper-to-bumper at five miles per hour. H-1 makes the Long Island Expressway, known as the longest parking lot in the world, look like a speedway.

Bobby helped me change the flight online and offered to drive me in. Ali, his mother, also offered. She had to go to town for work after dropping Koa off at his preschool. She did that every morning on her way.

Back at home, Scott texted me that Adam had moved the two cement wedges for the gravesite from the driveway into the back of the car. From Scott's description, Adam was surprised by how heavy they were. Adam lifts two-hundred-pound propane gas containers at work, but these sounded like they might be heavier. I was concerned that he had injured himself. I texted him. He assured me he was okay.

I got my ten thousand steps in today.

Saturday, February 4, 2023

Lauren made breakfast for everyone. She cut up mango and papaya, enough for several days. She made me a bowl of fruit covered with coconut yogurt and granola. Wow! What a delightful invention. I planned to make some of this for myself when I got home. My culinary imagination is limited. I eat to live; I do that barely.

The day was relaxed. Bobbie and Lauren’s attention was on the children, and I happily made myself at home. I perched on a bar stool at the kitchen island and did what I always do: I worked on the updates and the blog. Mama K canceled the Saturday morning session because her older daughter had volleyball. I spent the day typing, walking, talking with Lauren, Bobby, and Koa, and occasionally holding Rio, the four-month-old. I love how these two kids parent; they’re calm and thoughtful. The almost three-year-old, Koa, is rambunctious and has strong opinions. He can be insistent. He is tuned into his parents’ buttons and skilled at pushing them. He is also a lovely child, bright as a whip, warm and playful. I had a good time with him. Then again, I never had to say no.

Lauren’s parents, Susan and Roy, came from the nearby hotel in the afternoon. Susan is outgoing and joyful; Roy is reserved and generally muted. In some ways, they remind me of Mike and me. I was the outgoing one; he was more reserved and often uncomfortable with my making connections with total strangers.

Susan, Lauren, the kids, and I went on a walk. Koa was on a bike. He often raced ahead of us. Watching a kid under three tear down a street on a bike has breathtaking moments. We made it back without incident- all body parts intact.

We had dinner at the hotel where Roy and Susan, Lauren’s parents, stayed. Lauren picked a hotel restaurant that had sushi because her father loved it. We had two tables pushed together. Roy, Susan, and I got to sit at a large end table unsuitable for a chair. Susan got her legs underneath. Roy and I had to make do. We ordered several rounds of sushi to share around the table, which we all enjoyed except Susan. She’s not a fan of raw fish.

Koa was active. Susan walked with him. She took him up to her room. Fortunately, he was in the bathroom when he threw up. Susan got some of it on her shoes and genes. Lauren went upstairs and helped her mom clean the boy up. We headed home. He made it without incident. Lauren threw her mother’s jeans into the washing machine when we got home while Bobby attended to the Koa.

I got in my ten thousand steps today.

Friday, February 3, 2023

I slept continuously till right before the alarm went off at five-thirty. I completed my exercises, with intermittent dozing, and was out the door for my morning walk by seven. Elsa wanted to go to the left when we left the driveway. I usually go to the right. When we got to the corner of Holoholo and Hiolani, I continued straight rather than turning. At the bottom of Hiolani, I turned left onto Amaama and followed the twists and turns till I got to Kukuna. I walked up to Nehiwa and then home. I complete exactly two miles in an hour. How does my mph compare to the recommended speed for health? Not well. I must complete three to four miles in an hour to be considered healthy. Of course, this standard doesn't consider all the times I stop for Elsa to sniff something and for me to pick up garbage along the way.

When we got home, I saw Scott sitting in the driveway on the other side of the gate. I knew he was there with Liner Notes, Yvette, and Josh's dog. The poor pup had advanced cancer. They were waiting to hear from the vet when he could come to the house to put him down. Liner is such a sweet animal.

I was planning on buying a computer carrying case today. While talking to Scott and Yvette, I asked if one of them had one I could borrow. Yvette did. She ran into the house and got it. While she was gone, I told Scott I also needed those little plastic thingies you put on the stem of pierced earrings. If I wear earrings without that protection, I always lose one. Scott said Yvette had those, too. When she came back with the computer case, I asked about them. She ran back into the house and got some. She orders them online, twenty at a time. Why didn't I think of that?

I noticed I had peeling skin between my fingers, particularly on my left hand around my wedding band. It must be some fungal infection. I have never seen it before. It was probably caused by a combination of sugar, the antibiotic I had just gotten through taking, and not correctly rinsing my hands of soap and drying them thoroughly. I ordered Kerassentials, an herbal remedy for fungal problems, athlete's foot, and fungal-infected toes, from an online advertisement that took me in. When the package arrived, I thought, "I'll never use this stuff." But seeing my problem with my fingers, I started applying it yesterday. I could see the redness and scaling decrease over the day. Wow!

I washed my linens and hand towels today. Scott will sleep in my bed over the weekend while I visit my cousins in Honolulu. Elsa-dog won't have to sleep alone. I hung the load on the line. The sheets are microfiber. They dry quickly. The sky turned dark. I got them off the line and made the bed. I swept the bedroom and bathroom so it was reasonably presentable for Scott.

I had a session with adolescent D. We started with letter tracing. The only thing we can be sure of is he enjoys it, and it does no harm. We do it briefly at the beginning of each session. I asked him if he wanted to continue working on the lousy feeling he gets when he reads or on his homework. He chose to continue to work on his feelings.

I have a few questions generated by Bloom's talk about memory. He said people often quit too soon. They figure what doesn't come to mind immediately will never come. Uh-uh. Keep thinking. Assume it's in there somewhere. Just pose the question. The answer may come up a few hours or days later, but it will come.

The other day, D didn't respond when I asked him a question. When I asked, "D, did I lose you?" His attention often evaporates. He said, "No, I was thinking." Today, I asked him if this was an unusual response. He said yes. He had just started doing it recently. Wow! These are some impressive changes.

The other thing I asked him was if he was compelled to read words when he saw them. He said yes. Another, Wow! His mom commented when he started reading signs after we worked together for about a year. He ignored the printed word when I first started working with him. Reading signs is the behavior of emergent readers. D was almost fourteen. We are seeing some impressive changes.

I learned something from third grade J that I could use for me and maybe to help D. When I asked J where in his body his anger started, he said in his hands, they became fists. I told him to watch the changes in his body, forearm, upper arm, back, etc. I needed to see where the fear started in me. If I could catch it in its early stage, I could avert having it gaining control over me.

The other day, I did a SUDS with D on his fear. If I started at a ten, where was it now. He said a four. I told him that was about as low as it would go. You can't, don't really want to, get rid of fear. You don't want it to be in control of you. I asked D where that fear started with him. He said his stomach. I suspected it wasn't there but knew I could be wrong. We went back to observing the sensations around his stomach. Then, it moved up to his jaw. I saw anger.

D is a profoundly moral person. He would never project his anger on another person. He turns it on himself. He switched his attention to the right side of his lower abdomen. As that resolved, he felt greater relaxation- the criterion for positive change.

Every session of late, D has been asking why he is the way he is. I gave him several possible answers. It may be psychological; it is also possible that it is neurological. Today, I asked if his question was not so much "Why did this happen?" as "Why did it happen to me?" He agreed. I said, "Why not you? Why not me? There's nothing personal about it. It is just the luck of the draw." He said that made him feel better. Okay.

Fr Lio responded to my request for help unloading the wedges from my car into the cemetery. He could do it at noon on Tuesday. I called Adam to ask if he could help load the 200 lb cement wedges into my car. He didn't answer as usual. I called Jazzy. I walked to the screened-in lanai area while talking to her. Scott came running out of his room with an intense look. He told me to be quiet; the vet was now putting Liner down. I moved immediately and thanked Scott for letting me know. I was preoccupied with my own concerns. Dealing with this is difficult for me. But I feel terrible that I intruded on that precious moment. I later found a text from Josh asking me to be quiet. I could hear Yvette sobbing. The thought of losing Elsa tears my heart out.

I packed, showered, and got everything set to leave for the airport to catch my flight at 6:05. I had tried to sign in on the app. It kept telling me I couldn't do it sooner than 24 hours before flight time, referring to my return flight from Honolulu. I checked in at the service desk instead of the kiosk. The lady told me that my flight had been for 6:05 am. Oh, boy. That dits of a lady had booked me for the wrong flight. She didn't get anything right. She had my previous flight information before. She told me the later flight was booked and she could get me on the earlier one. Then she booked me on an am flight instead of a pm. Fortunately, there was plenty of room on the 6:05 pm flight. As it turned out, it was half empty.

When I got to Honolulu, I grabbed a cab instead of calling an Uber. Oh boy. The cabby looked like he had entered the street name into his GPS. Then he pulled off the highway and into a gas station. "Give me the address again." I gave it to him three times, and his GPS didn't work. Oh, boy. Here I am with another incompetent person. I was furious. The fare was already over $65, and we had further to go. Did he take me out of the way to increase his fare?

I pulled out my phone and typed in the address, and it came up. I told the cab driver where to go. We were close to the destination. Then we couldn't find the house. "Let me out here. I'll find it." He told me I didn't have to pay him. He did get me to my destination. I gave him $40. No more because I suspected he had taken me for a longer ride than necessary.

The poor man was uncomfortable leaving me in the street with my suitcase. He walked up and down the street, trying to find the house. A woman came out of her house, and I asked her if she knew where the house would be. She didn't know the address and didn't know which way the numbers ran.

Darcy, the woman, stuck with me. She even ran after the cab when I cried out that I thought I had left something in the cab. I hadn't. I found my wallet in a different compartment in my purse. I finally called Lauren. She came out of her house and called my name. Darcy saw her first and stuck with me until she saw I was in safe hands.

Lauren introduced me to her mother-in-law, Ali. The children were still up two and year-old Koa and four-month-old Rio. Koa was taken with me and allowed me to read him a book. It was lovely to see a positive response. I never had that from the other kids in my family.

Thursday, February 2, 2023

For the second day, I took a longer walk than usual, well, a little bit longer. I go further, but it only adds two-tenths of a mile to my walk.

Damon from Mana Mandela, the fellow who will stain and seal my cement wedges, called today to get more information about my project. He planned to stop by next week after he finished another project. It winds up he’s an artist who does cement staining on the side. We decided it would be best if I got my wedges back to the cemetery. He can do the staining there. He’ll lay down a tarp to protect the area from the stain. He would prefer to see all the components to determine the best color for the wedges.

The base palettes are compressed lava rock, a grayish color more than black. The engraved stones are mottled brown granite. I am so relieved to have someone who knows what they’re doing regarding color selection and stain application. He recommends I put a sealer on to prevent mold. Someone else advised against it because it gives a high-polish shine. The wedge should be unobtrusive.

I noticed some rough spots on Elsa. I gave her a medicinal bath. I’m supposed to bathe her at least once a week, preferably every other day, when her skin lesions are bad. I’m not very good about it. I used to think she hated them. She has to sit in the sink covered with the medicinal soap for at least ten minutes. It looked to me as if she hated it. I’ve realized she doesn’t run away when I start preparing the sink for her bath. She’s a smart doggy. She knows what’s happening and doesn’t fight me when I put her in the sink. I can walk away, and she doesn’t jump out. I always carry her outside immediately after the bath so she can pee. She always does. I think the water stimulates it. I didn’t make her go out the doggie door after the bath. I let her out the people door in the bathroom and set her down on the gravel.

I called a friend about something else, forgetting he went to Honolulu today to get an MRI to check on his double vision. I’d been worried about a possible brain tumor but said nothing to him. I didn’t want to alarm him if he hadn’t thought of it himself. He’s fine. No brain tumor. No cancer. The growth in his eye was caused by overexposure to the sun, a common problem here, particularly for people with light-colored eyes. He revealed that he, too, had been concerned about a tumor or brain cancer when the doctor ordered an MRI and sent him to Oahu to see a specialist. He asked the doctor immediately. The doctor assured him he wasn’t concerned about a tumor or brain cancer. I wish my friend had told me this before.

I saw Linear Notes. Poor baby is so worn out. Yvette is waiting for a vet to come to the house to put him down. She’s staying home with him until the end. He’s been a great dog. he was a bother because of all the dirt he dragged into the house, but he was the sweetest dog you could ever want.

Linear came into Yvette and Josh’s life as a rescue. When we first moved in here, our neighbor moved to town to live with his girlfriend. He couldn’t have dogs there. He tied Liner to a fence with a two-foot leash. Yvette and Josh heard him howling. When they got to him, they found him hanging by his leash. They righted him and returned home.

The following night, they heard him howling at the back of the property. They set out to check on him. They fought their way through three-foot-high weeds. This time, they brought him home and left his owner a note telling him they had him. The owner thanked them and explained the situation. Yvette and Josh proposed he live with them; the owner could supply the food and cover the vet bills. He was spotty with his contributions at best. When his owner surrendered ownership, Yvette planned to rehome Liner, whose complete name was Liner Notes. By the time that happened, there was no way they would give him to someone else. Liner had a good life here. He had his own bed; I mean a real human bed. He was always welcome in their bed. Also, he had B, who took him hunting and fed him treats. He was loved to bits and pieces and pieces and bits. And then there were all the friends he made in driveway yoga. Yes, we had yoga with dogs. It is one of Elsa’s favorite events.

I watched more for The Morning Show with Reese Witherspoon, Steve Carrel, and Jennifer Anniston. I didn’t recognize Anniston when I first saw her. Her face shape is rounder than it usually looks. I see how she gets the effect of an oval face with her hairstyle.

Wednesday, February 1, 2023

This morning, I didn't need to push Elsa through the doggie door, but she made it clear she preferred not to use it. She tried to get away. When I blocked her path, she went out. Later in the day, when she was outside, I went out on the back lanai to check the laundry. Elsa went to the bathroom door, asking to be let out. I walked around to the front of the house rather than let out through the people's door. When I got inside, I set her down by the doggie door. She was cornered and used it.

In my morning meditation, I focused on the tension in my left brow. It's bad enough that it causes vision problems. Insurance covers Botox treatments to lift it. I always thought it was a result of birth trauma. I was ventral facing instead of dorsal; I had to be turned to make my exit. I was smashed into my mother's hip bone for several hours. My nose was totally compressed when my father saw me. In those days, he was not welcome in the delivery room. My nose was permanently reshaped because of this experience. I assumed it also impacted my brow, but it's more garden-variety tension.

As I meditated on that tension, I experienced whirling in my head. I observed that. I was reminded of an image someone focused on when she mediated. She thought of a herd of oxen she brought to order. Instead, I just observed and wondered what would happen. That is the recommended strategy of Vipassana. It works well.

I drove down to the Bonded Materials office this morning to find someone who could stain the cement wedges that were the base for the granite gravestones. The company didn't do the work; they sold the materials. When I explained what it was for, the older man asked how long I had been married. A sob escaped my lips. They gave me someone's name but made it clear he didn't work for them.

When I got home, I called the guy they recommended immediately. He said he was an artist. He did this work on the side. He was completing a cement staining job at the Veteran's Cemetery. He quoted me a price. I didn't care how much it was. There was no one else who could do it. I had the money. I was desperate.

When I got home, I went down for a nice long nap. I got up in time for my two afternoon appointments.

I checked my texts to discover Mama K had canceled for the day; it was the first time she had proposed rescheduling. I suspect she is seeing enough progress in Twin E and K that she is beginning to believe they can learn.

I still had my appointment with Adolescent D at two pm. I start all our sessions with letter tracing these days. I form the letters slowly on the Zoom share screen, and D follows my form and speed as he 'writes' the letter with the tip of his finger on a tabletop. I don't know what effect it has. I know it has helped others with attention problems, and he likes doing it. What can be harmful? He says he sees no difference in his handwriting.

For the last several sessions, we have been focusing on healing his anxiety and shame in response to the activity of reading and the thought of his disability. I did a SUDS with him today. "If the negative feelings were at a ten when we started, what are they now?" He said, "Four." I told him it won't ever be much lower. Anxiety and shame are fundamental emotions that are always with a healthy person. People totally free of those emotions are disabled and can be downright dangerous. We must get used to living with a low level of both feelings. Any evidence of them is hard for D because he had them in excess.

I quoted, "Once bitten by a snake, every coiled rope looks dangerous." That made no sense to him. I told him the story of a friend waiting at the curbside to cross the street when the car went out of control and hit her. After that, she worried every time she crossed a street. We all know a car can damage us, yet we don't worry about it. Once hit by a car, that worry never leaves us. I gave him another example of a woman who was bitten by a dog and is now afraid of all dogs. Once we have an over-the-top experience, our minds remain overly sensitive. It's called PTSD.

He focused on the physical sensations generated by those emotions. They started in his heart. When he just observed, they spread down to his stomach. He was upset when it spread. He wanted to compress it. No, it's good when it starts moving on its own; observe what it does and wonder what it will do next. Stay calm and interested. He didn't get it. I told him my story of healing physical pain and third-grade J's story of healing his uncontrolled anger using Vipassana.

In my first Vipassana sit, I was in terrible pain. When I sat cross-legged, my left inner thigh muscle was painfully tight. My tailbone started screaming at me when I changed to a straight-legged position. I fractured it when I was twelve. I resolved to apply Vipassana. I locked my legs in a cross-legged position and said, "I can endure this pain one more minute." Then, I focused on describing where the sensation was without thinking about it as pain. Then, the pain would overwhelm me. I would start again, "I can endure this pain one more minute," and focus again on describing the sensation without calling it pain. It went away.

I taught third-grade J to use this process without telling him what I was teaching. I asked him where he felt the anger in his body first. He said in his fists. I was going to argue with him, tell him it had to come from inside his body. Fortunately, I kept my mouth shut and followed his lead. I told him to see the sensation from his fists travel up his arms and into his body. He did, and that ended that. He has had no incidents of uncontrolled anger. This does not mean he will never feel angry again. However, anger is a wonderful emotion, very useful when we need it most to empower us to do amazing things to defend ourselves against lions, tigers, bears, and occasional violent bullies. Other than that, it informs us that we don't like something. Fully released anger is not appropriate in all situations.

The sensation in D subsided, and he was more relaxed. The session ended, and I thought he could continue the process independently.

I had to reschedule my flight to Ohau again to visit my relatives staying there and claim my refund. This was the second time I had to reschedule the flight. I couldn't do it on my own. I called Hawaiian Airlines customer service. Avoid doing that if you can. OMG! What a nightmare! Last time, I just canceled the flight and asked for a refund for use at a later time because I didn't know my relatives' plans. They first had to cancel because my cousin's wife got sick. Their eleven-year-old dog found a chicken bone on their property the second time. It pierced his digestive tract. They couldn't save him. My cousins were devastated. I got the new plans for the upcoming weekend within hours of canceling.

The Hawaiian Airlines agent was a woman who didn't speak English well. It took me time to get her to understand that I wanted to use a refund to pay for the flight I was currently booking. I had to give her my credit card number. I would repeat it in groups of four, as it is printed, and she would repeat the numbers in some random grouping and get it wrong each time. As I write this, I wonder why she needed my credit card number. I was using a refund to pay for the flight. I will have to check that.

As the sun set, I went down to see Linear Notes for the last time. He had stopped eating. When Yvette took him to the vet, he was diagnosed with pancreatitis. When she took him back in, they changed the diagnosis to cancer. That's why he'd been looking so fat. He was bloated. When on steroids to keep him comfortable until the vet could come to the house to put him down, his bloat subsided, and you could see how skinny he was. Lack of food and cancer will do that to you. He was such a sweet dog, kind of a dufus but so sweet.

In one of Bloom's lectures from the course on psychology through Yale's free online courses, he mentioned Piaget's concept of object permeance. Object permanence is the understanding that things don't disappear just because you can't see them. That's the lesson infants learn in the game Peek-a-boo. Now, you see me; now, you don't. Where did I go? Am I gone forever, or am I still here for you? I played a math game of sorts with some fifteen-year-old children. I placed ten small Cuisenaire rods in one hand and told them there were ten. I even let them count them. Then, I moved one to the other hand, keeping the remaining nine in the original hand. "How many rods do I have all together if I have one in this hand and nine in this one?" They had to count them. It might be a problem with object permeance. Is it possible that there are fifteen-year-olds who almost look normal, not classified as mentally delayed, who could go through life without that concept? Or is it only that they didn't apply it regarding numbers?