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

Tuesday, May 26, 2026

Friday, March 15, 2024

I woke up around 3:30 to go to the bathroom and fell back asleep till 4:30. I was up; I might as well get up. The first thing I did was call T-Mobile. I had trouble getting my phone to connect to the charging cord again. I tried both the cords I had. Neither worked. I wiped down the plug on one of them with alcohol and got it to connect. The T-Mobile representative was a delight. She recommended I get a remote charger. You don't have to plug your phone in; you place your phone on the charger. Sounded good.

Judy called. I told her about my phone issue. She declared the charging cords wear out quickly and need to be replaced. I've heard that before. When I took my phone to T-Mobile when I first encountered this problem, the rep told me that the outlet on my phone was very dirty, preventing contact. I bought a special kit with tools to clean it. That helped.

It's just nerve-racking to think of being unable to charge the phone and having to wait forty-eight hours for a new one.

I have fallen into Fr. Gregory Boyle's rabbit hole. I am listening to all the videos on him I can find. I love his message of inclusion for all and the way he speaks. I also love his attitude toward service and healing.

He said something that struck home for me. A lot of the people he dealt with had mothers who were frightened or frightening. They probably go together. He said children like that never learn to self-soothe because they never were soothed.

I think this is my situation. It is very difficult to calm myself. In the past, that inner disturbance rapidly became outer. I have more control over it now, but I can still suffer.

Self-soothing for me was dancing. I danced my little heart out until anxiety and fear were expunged. This is before the era of expressive social dancing. I did interpretive modern dance, me and Isadore Duncan. I lost myself in dance. Without it, I doubt I would have made it to adulthood with any sanity left. I feel for that little kid, subjected to that frightened, explosive mom.

Note: my mom wasn't like some of the moms the Home Boys describe. She was devoted to her children. I thought she hated being a mom. She was shocked when I told her so at the end of her life. No, she loved being a mom. She sure had me fooled. How can anyone enjoy being dissatisfied with everything your children do and don't do all the time and enjoy it? She was constantly angry. Anger was her way to self-soothe. It wasn't available to me because I had learned that being angry at people hurts them. Her behavior caused her no remorse, no shame. Remarkable.

At one point toward the end of my mother's life, my sister told her that she had ruined her life. Later in the day, when I visited with her, she told me what my sister had said. My mother's response: "Maybe I wasn't hard enough on her." Holy cow! My mom lived in an upside-down world.

Thursday, March 14, 2024

I had a good night's sleep but felt lousy for most of the day. I thought I had a sinus headache, or was it a mild stroke. I had several days of feeling lousy in the morning, perking up in the afternoon and evening. What was going on? I had bouts of mild nausea, which moving made worse. This had been going on for at least a week. I finally checked if there were any negative side effects to creatine. I started using it on the advice of Huberman of Huberman podcasts. He said it was the one must in his life. I took it without question. It's for building muscle mass for bodybuilders. Huh?

I scheduled three activities for nine am: The 80s Club Zoom meeting, a tutoring session with 26-year-old S, and a session with Shelly. I had written 3/9 next to Shelly's name, meaning three o'clock her time/nine o'clock mine. However, I had put her name in the ten a.m. slot. In the name of caution, I canceled my participation in the Club meeting and asked S if she could make it at 11:15. It all worked out, except that I continued to feel lousy.

My appointment with Shelly was at ten a.m., not nine. I was somewhat concerned when she didn't call at nine. I always think something bad happened.

The work I did today was important. Earlier in the week, I felt I could sit with a personal attack without becoming defensive and combative. I have never had enough control of my fear to conceive of doing that. This reactivity is the sole reason I have stayed in therapy for my whole life. My reactivity was the reason I decided at 18 never to have children. I had lived with my mother's reactivity and never wanted to subject a helpless child to that experience; the abuse would stop here. As an adult, I realized I also spared myself. Who would want to be that person? I didn't. Although it never seemed to bother my mom. She thought it was a good way to be. When she lived with me for the last eighteen years of her life, she once wondered if being less combative was a good thing. Oh, boy!'

I worked with a few images with some surprising results. First, I thought of the Gokhale instructor I had for the individual online sessions at a mere $200 an hour. She worked strictly from a script. She was incapable of making adaptations. How was this a personal session? It was a private viewing of a public presentation. I've seen teachers of whole classrooms make more adaptations to their audience. I considered reporting the service. (I stopped the private sessions and used the balance of the money to sign up for in-person group classes. The teacher of these group classes was as good as the other was bad.) my response when thinking of this failed teacher was sadness. I felt so bad about needing to reject her. I prefer being a loving, accepting person. I like people. I find everyone interesting. I find anyone who enjoys my presence a delight to be with. I'm out of there when I find people don't like me. I love working out differences; I learn more about others and myself. It's so enriching.

At any rate, I felt sad I couldn't be a loving, accepting person with the teacher of the individual classes. I struggled for several sessions about how to get out of the situation. I finally realized I could call the Gokhale customer service agent and cancel. I didn't have to shove it in the instructor's face. It still made me feel so sad. I prefer being accommodating. I think I'm enriched by it, not lessened. But this situation, like others in my life, was too much. I was spending $200 an hour caring for someone who was supposed to help me. I still struggle with it.

Next, I had a therapist who was a real doofus. She had me all wrong. I don't mean her judgment of me was wrong, even though I thought it was. I mean, she had the facts wrong. However, she believed she could divine everything. She certainly thought I wasn't a good source of information about myself. I knew why I continued with her; she didn't. But I still chafe when I think of her. I envision running into her. It's not a comfortable interaction.

I look forward to the point where I can be genuinely neutral. I want to achieve equanimity before I die. It's a life goal.

Then I thought of my mom, my poor mom, with all her life traumas.

I felt so sad I wasn't able to be what she needed. Her needs were contained for the last 18 years of her life, and I was balanced; we could be good enough with each other to make a joyful situation.

During our session, I wasn't at my best with twenty–six–year–old S. I had her reread the first-grade story she read on Tuesday. I emailed it to her after our session. She had actually asked me to. Her sister only printed it out yesterday. She had only reread it once. I proposed she work on it for Monday. I hope she will prepare the story to read to her three-year-old daughter. The story is in a published book with pictures. When she reads the story with me, it's just the words. I proposed formatting my printed version of the book so she could illustrate it with her daughter. She said the three-year-old couldn't draw. I said, "She could tell you what to draw." She thought it might be fun to do. Great!

When I checked my updates the other day, I had lost six days work. They mysteriously disappeared along with entries for February I had already run through Grammarly and emailed. I had mixed feelings about the loss. One feeling was, "Yay! Less work!" Today, they all reappeared. Oh, dear. Now, I was way behind.

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

I did my Gentle Seated Yoga video. I only completed 2,000 steps on my morning walk because I had driveway yoga. As I walked, Casey arrived for the class. Elsa chased his car. She has never done that before. She charges cars from the side but ignores them once they’ve passed. I figured she smelled Casey and knew it was yoga time. She loves our driveway yoga.

We were at a full house this morning. Casey, Carolyn, me, Deb from Seattle, and Yvette, who taught the class, were on video. Yvette announced this would be the last class until her Montessori kids were on break. She teaches yoga online to a group of preschoolers. It was all too much from her. I get a great deal from her class.

I planned to go to the Kupuna meeting at 8:30. I had mixed feelings about going; I wasn’t feeling 100%, and I still had to eat something.

I finally left at about 9:30. I had only made it a few blocks before the negatives outweighed the positives. I turned around and headed home.

I had Ulu Wini at 1:30. The table faced the building. It was a grey day, so I wasn’t concerned about the sun washing out the computer screen images.

I had 5th grade L first. Last time, I covered decoding multi-syllable words. She needed some more work on comprehension. I used the book Hatchet. The main character is 13 instead of 10, but the book is considered suitable for ten—or eleven-year-olds.

I saw 5th grade M watching us. I called her over to join us. She said she had seen some improvement in her comprehension from the work we did yesterday. Both girls have problems understanding the relationship of one word to another in a sentence. They will interpret a word out of the context of the sentence. Working with the two girls together was a blast. I repeatedly asked them if they wanted to stop. They both were eager to continue. I was the one to call it quits. While I had fun, it was exhausting. I must have worked with them for an hour.

First-grade K came next. My notes said he was struggling at a pre-primer level. I worked with him in a Reading Roots book #20. What a difference in so many regards! His focus and concentration were completely different. Before, it was hard to hold his attention for two seconds. Now, he was completely concentrated. He diligently decoded any word he didn’t know. He did an amazing job. It would be hard to know if I had any effect. The Reading Roots program is fantastic. The teacher who works with these kids came by. She said the school is seeing a dramatic improvement in reading levels with the Success for All method. The books are fabulous. They include both phonics and good stories.

I called Zola, offering to meet her in town to help her learn the Gokhale foot exercises.

I am seeing a difference in my mental functioning since I broke my shoulder and elbow. It’s the impact of the 8 hours under anesthesia for the surgeries and three weeks of opioids for the pain. There are two areas where I’m seeing a difference. In the past, I could always write and listen to the radio simultaneously. Now, I can’t hear lyrics without it interfering with my concentration. I can only listen to instrumental music. The second impact is on my ability to make connections. That was a particular mental strength of mine. I wasn’t good at attending to or remembering details. Still can’t do that; if anything, I’m worse at that, too, but that happens with age. But now, I don’t make connections between two pieces of information. Yvette spoke about staying home Saturday to be with Little. I thought she wanted to spend time with her while she sent Masha to doggie daycare. It only occurred to me later that she made these arrangements because she anticipated Dan coming over to cut down the Schefflera tree. He canceled for the day. I finally got it. Yvette wanted to stay home in case Little was upset with the noise.

I watched Oppenheimer. Wow! I had planned to watch it over two nights. I watched it all the way through and headed to bed at 11 instead of 9. I was spellbound.

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Elaine came walking toward me. She didn’t stop today; she told me Dean and Nina were on their way. I grilled Nina on how MakesNoClaims (Intrasound) was doing. Her scars still don’t itch and continue to get paler and smaller.

I attended a large group Zoom meeting at 9 am, where Gokhale introduced a new program. It was very disappointing. The free videos Esther usually gives include instructions. This was an infomercial for a new format to rival the elements course I had signed up for, individual sessions with a certified instructor. I can’t imagine ever doing anything like that again except with Lisa, who has proven herself a good instructor. I regretted signing up for it, particularly since I had to reschedule my reading session with twenty-six-year-old S later in the day. I had her reading in first-grade material. She missed words but did reasonably well. She had to be reminded to stick to the letters on the page and start with the vowel if she needed to decode the word.

Judy, who observed the session, was optimistic that she would progress rapidly. Her memory is undoubtedly better than Adolescent D’s. She is also eager to follow my instructions on the off chance they will work.

I had a luncheon date with Zola. I was late because I didn’t hear my alarm go off. After showering, I left my phone in my robe pocket. I had gotten engrossed in writing a letter of complaint to Esther Gokhale for the disastrous lessons I got from one of her top instructors. I called Zola to warn her I would be late. She said not to worry. She was sitting in the car in the church parking lot.

We ate lunch at Papa Kona’s. They placed us at the far end by the back stairs. I felt we had been given an undesirable spot, but there were no undesirable spots in this location. All have fantastic views of the ocean. We both had the poke. We had eaten it before her, and we both thought they had a new and improved recipe.

I craved dessert, and Zola needed to move on. I walked down to Lava Java. There was nothing there that interested me. I was looking for a fruit pastry, and they had none.

When I returned to the church parking lot, I discovered the car was still running. I meant to lock my car. I had my computer in the back seat because I was heading to Ulu Wini immediately afterward to tutor. Anyone could have driven away with it and my computer.

I got to Ulu Wini way before the kids arrived. I did a Zoom session with Adolescent D. We just did a few words before we were both exhausted. I worked on the updates with the remaining time.

I didn’t work with that many kids to the kids at Ulu Wini today.

I did crossbody blending with first-grade DE and comprehension with fifth-grade M. I discovered that second-grade Mi had an auditory processing problem. She often responded with, “Huh?” She can hear the individual phonemes but does not process words fast enough to understand what is said. I recommended that she listen to the 5-Stories audio file on YouTube.

I had first-grade B at 5 p.m. She reread a Reading Roots story and remembered most of it. She has excellent recall.

We worked on decoding. I teach that vowels are the cornerstones of every syllable. The kids must know what the vowels are. I went over listing them. I teach the “I owe you” trick for remembering them. It’s the one I used as a child. B said, “I owe you a peanut butter sandwich for all your hard work with me.” Wow! How’s that for awareness. The irony is I didn’t feel I grasped her problem yet. It was somewhat obscured because we were working on the reading selections from her reading teacher, which Judy and I felt were way above first-grade level despite being labeled as first-grade material.

I asked B if she wanted to know what made vowels different from consonants. Yes, vowels come out of the big hollowed-out caves of our mouths, while consonants all have a block.

Later in the evening, I called Zola and offered to work with her on her Gokhale foot exercises. She complained about knee pain over lunch. While waiting to be seated, I showed her a Gokhale foot exercise. It was benign; it might help but would do no harm. I was shocked at the state of her feet. She didn’t even have the strength to curl her toes. Her arches were flat. Her proposed solution was to move less, not more. She’d be in big trouble soon.

When I plugged in my car at home, it wouldn’t charge. That was alarming. Had the charging problem reoccurred. Fortunately, I thought to check the connection. Sure enough, somehow, the extension cord was unplugged. It wasn’t Yvette; it must have been the puppies who accidentally pulled it out.

Monday, March 11, 2024

Last night was the strangest night. I wasn’t the least bit tired when I got in bed, but I had a devil of a time falling asleep. Then I woke up at one thirty. That was pretty much it for the night. I supposed I dozed, but I figured I could nap during the day.

I ran into Elaine on my morning walk. We usually have a brief exchange and then go our separate ways. Today, she asked if we could walk together. We proceeded at a good clip, and I was able to keep up. The Gokhale foot exercises strengthen my feet, and I use them differently as I walk. Elaine and I talked about open and closed-mindedness—in other words, the current state of the nation.

As I made my right turn back to Nehiwa, Elaine continued straight up the hill. I saw three small dogs with one person down the street in front of Darby’s house. I didn’t recognize the dogs or the owner. As I got closer, I noticed the dogs weren’t on a leash, and the ‘owner’ looked like Darby. Darby? As we met, the three unleashed dogs circled poor Elsa and sniffed away. Then, I got the story.

When Darby woke up this morning, she heard snorting in her yard. She thought she had pigs. Yes, we have wild pigs wandering our neighborhood. Upon hearing the list of wild animals ( wild pigs, goats, sheep, chickens, turkeys, pheasants, and partridges), my niece said I lived in a nature preserve. Today, It wasn’t pigs rooting in Darby’s backyard; it was three French bulldogs, a mother, and two somewhat grown pups. They followed her out to the street, where I found her.

We were concerned for the dogs’ safety but were not sure what to do. I called the police and told them about the loose dogs and where they were. I hoped someone would call. They bothered Elsa enough that she begged to be held. I threw her over one shoulder and started down the street toward home. I only had one block to go. Larry, Mo, and Curly followed. I thought I had an area where I could confine them until someone came to claim them.

I asked Darby to walk with me, concerned the dogs would crowd me and knock me over. Since my fall on June 13, resulting in a crushed elbow and shoulder, eight hours of surgery, and two weeks in the hospital, I am understandably leery of falling. Darby joined me as we led the three dogs to my house and secured them. I called the police back to tell them I had them and went to find the number for the Humane Society, which no longer did rescues for lost dogs; I should call Animal Control.

I did. It wasn’t open yet, so I left a message. Within five minutes, a woman from Animal Control called me. The police had called her.

I could bring them to her immediately, or she could come and pick them up later in the morning. I chose the latter. I sent her pictures showing where the enclosed area was. I did a video of the entrance, the driveway, and the gate. I texted Yvette to tell her I found three dogs just the right size for her and Josh. Ha! Ha! Josh would have a cow if Yvette brought another dog into the house. But not to worry. These were three valuable dogs. They cost a pretty penny. Someone must be looking for them.

I got a call from Animal Control saying they were on their way just as I left for my 11:15 am doctor’s appointment. Well, that was another problem.

When I went to sign in at Kaiser, they told me I had missed my appointment. It was at 10:15. I couldn’t sign in at the kiosk; I had to do it with the clerks. They texted the doctor’s office to see if they could fit me in. Yes, right now for a quicky, or I could come back at 2 pm. “Now, please.”

I barely had time to sit down when I was called in. I should come late all the time. It was my twice-annual appointment with the plastic surgeon to get my Botox injections in my forehead. I don’t know if they make much difference in my appearance, but they help my vision, which is why Kaiser covers them for me. My left brow sags so badly that it is hard to see sometimes. The Botox injections help. They hurt but are worth it. One of the nurses tapped my arm as the doctor did his work.

The doctor explained why the tapping works. I thought it was a distraction, but it’s more complicated. The nerve receptors can only carry three types of messages. If they are receiving another negative stimulus before the injections is administered, the nerves are on overload and can’t carry the message of the pin prick. The closer the other stimulus is to the sight of the injection, the greater the interference. While the tapping on the arm helped, it would have been much more effective if I pinched my left ear lobe.

I headed to the Kaiser pharmacy afterward. I discovered I was almost out of my blood pressure meds on Friday. I ordered them immediately. The clerk told me the doctor had to renew my prescription. I thought I had gotten a text telling me the prescription had gone through. While I was there, I checked with the pharmacist. There was no record that I had made a call requesting a renewal. The pharmacist wrote the request while I stood there. Hopefully, this goes through quickly. I would have none for one day. Hopefully, not more.

I saw a text from Yvette saying Animal Control had come to pick up the dogs. Later, I got a text from the woman at Animal Control telling me the dogs were reunited with their owner. While the pups weren’t microchipped, the mama was. The animal control person had a chip reader with him. When he called, the owner told him he was driving around the neighborhood looking for them. He said the dogs were usually ‘good’; they didn’t leave the property. Who relies on dogs being ‘good?’

I had two cancellations for today. But I did have Twenty-six-year-old S. We worked on the same first-grade story we had on Thursday. She did much better. I guided her when she missed words, encouraging her to always start the decoding with the vowel letters and to use cross-body blending when she had trouble putting the sounds together. When she follows those practices, she always gets the word. At the end, she requested I send her the text so she could practice it.

Sunday, March 10, 2024

I checked out the silent auction tent at church to see what Shirley did with my donated items. She did a nice job displaying them. Mine are the only items there; the rest of the offers are just on sign-up sheets. She also put the offer for Mike’s books in an odd place where no one would look. I can understand her dilemma. My offerings are far from the usual ones. My offer of tutoring is among the other sign-up sheets.

One person signed up. We’ll see how it goes. It occurred to me that I didn’t put down what I was prepared to tutor or that I would only do it online. I can imagine this person wanting in-person tutoring in 10th-grade math who lives at the far end of the parish. I don’t think so. I’m prepared to give her her $50 back.

When I got home from church, I had my usual mid-morning nap. I got lots of little things done. My house was in a state of chaos. Everything was at a different angle. Where is Mike when I need him to create order? Oh, yes, I remember—dead. Oh, well. I can’t rely on him anymore, can I? If I want order, I will have to bring it into my own life.

I started vacuuming the living room, stopping to do this or that. I had German stamps from a letter my cousin sent me that I wanted to give to someone who might be interested. I stopped the cleaning process, took a picture, and posted the offer on Facebook (or Meta) Marketplace. Let’s see what happens.

Oh, yes. I posted something else today: three open bags of sheetrock mud. I have no idea how they wound up in my shed. I certainly didn’t put them there, but Scott probably did. Oh, yes. He put up new sheetrock in Yvette’s yoga room, so they must have come from that.

I heard again how important body contact is for human well-being. We release oxytocin when we hug. I’m sure it’s not with everyone we hug. If we hug people we’re uncomfortable with, we probably release more cortisol than oxytocin. I loved, loved, loved hugging Mike. It was the best feeling. Boy, do I miss that man!

Saturday, March 9, 2024

\ I had my first group Gokhale class today. The individual class was horrendous. For $200 an hour, I got a private viewing of a public presentation. Doreen was nice and well-intentioned, but she was just incapable of adapting to the individual, at least unable to adapt her teaching to my needs. I got angrier and angrier after each class. It finally occurred to me that I could cancel the classes without speaking to Doreen. I called customer service for Gokhale. Bingo! I transferred my remaining funds to the group session.

The group sessions were light years better. They’re in person, and I could learn from the other students. To boot, Lisa was a wonderful teacher, attentive and responsive.

Besides the great class, the drive was incredible. The view of the north shore of the Big Island was worth the hour-long trip. Hawi is this little hippy town. The whole trip was a delight, except for the car.

I started the drive in hybrid mode, but when I turned to Hawi off Queen K, I only had three bars left. Oh, dear. I made it to Hawi and then had to worry about the drive home. I believe I hit the power mode button by accident shortly after I left the house. It was freezing cold. I pressed the button for the seat warmer. I vaguely remember hitting the wrong button for the seat warmer before I got it right.

Once, in the parking lot of the class site, I had a devil of a time finding out where the class was being held. I had expected a motel conference room. Nah. This was a main building from the 1930s with some cabins. The directions said the cabin was to the left of the main building; there was nothing to the left of the main building. I saw some cabins when I looked to the right of the main building. I wandered among them. Fortunately, they were named, and the instructor had shared that. However, the path to the front door was obscured by eight-foot hedges. The other students in the class lived within three miles of downtown Hawi and were familiar with the site. I had traveled over an hour and had never been there before.

When I got home, I took a nice long nap. Judy called while wandering around the Costco parking lot. It was full, and she couldn’t find a space. Holy cow! Costco has never been this crowded. What’s going on?

In my session with Adolescent D, I proposed using a mnemonic to remember the VCe pattern. He said he doesn’t need a mnemonic to remember. He can just remember. He cannot not just remember. His memory function is usually weak. He refuses to use any conscious devices to help him remember. This has been a problem all along. It drives me nuts.

Friday, March 8, 2024

When I called Jean today, she shoved me off again. She’s busy with paperwork. She has always been that way. However, now she asks me if I “need to speak with her,” am I in need? I resolved to call once a week from now on. I wonder if she will notice the difference? She sounded annoyed today. Of course, I told her to stop asking me if I had a need to talk. If that’s the only reason she wants to talk to me, I have to limit the contact. There has to be some joy.

My stats on the videos remained unchanged for a few days, which is rare. The With Mike; Without Mike blog numbers are in the triple digits, as they have been for the last few weeks. Clearly, someone in China and Singapore is teaching English and making my blog required reading. Today, there were 202 hits. Then, on the weekend, there was only 1 hit. When the teacher takes a break, the blog stats will return to one or two hits today.

I’m having a tough time. I have to make scary big decisions about not very major issues, like cutting down trees. Other people are impacted and uncomfortable with what’s going on. I get conflicting information from people and have to sort it out when I don’t have good background knowledge.

I had an appointment with Randee for a haircut. She had let her hair grow out longer, including her bangs. She looked great. She reminded me of someone else. I had trouble making the connection, and it drove me crazy. I finally realized it was Michele Dockery. I love her. I commented she looked better now that she had broken up with Dustin. She said many people were saying that. She had also been dating someone new for the last three months, and it was going well. All good, upbeat news. It lifted my spirits, which were somewhat down in the dumps.

I headed off to Jack Be Click, our local Apple expert. No, we do not have an Apple Store on the Big Island. They’re all on Oahu. It took him five minutes to solve the problems on all three of my computers. I had issues signing in to Microsoft on the two Apple devices, and the Surface Pro Tablet didn’t seem to work at all. He said the keyboard on the Surface Pro had died. They’re cheap and break easily. He didn’t charge me for his time. That was an upbeat moment, not because it saved me money and aggravation but because it was a caring gesture.

I made a quick stop at Target for Dave’s multi-grain bread and some O.J. I went to Ulu Wini next. The side door, which is usually open to receive people from the community, was closed. That was weird. Maybe they didn’t work on Friday morning or any morning. I went around to the back of the building where the students usually sit on the covered lanai. It had glass sliding doors. Sure enough, there was Ipo. She got up and let me in.

I returned the three Reading Roots books I had borrowed and took ten more. I plan to enter all 48 reading books in the series into my computer to use them with the kids.

I made idle chatter while I pulled them out. I said I had called the company to ask to buy them, but they only dealt with organizations. From what I’ve heard, I don’t think anyone can just buy the books; it’s a whole teaching program.

Yesterday, I ran into Misty, Kealakehe’s ESL teacher; she teaches English to students whose parents speak another language. I told her how impressed I was with the series. She agreed; she said they are seeing great progress with their students. This is such good news. I feel a little useless in the face of a good program like this. It reminds me of when the women’s movement started up. I had been advocating for women’s lib forever. Suddenly, everyone was racing past me. My role as forerunner was trampled to the ground in the rush. It took some adjusting. My story changed.

I finally had the time to visit Paulette and get more water. I wondered how I would make myself visit regularly if I didn’t have the excuse of getting the Kangen water from her. I cherish our time together. Elsa does, too. We spent about an hour there. Then my alarm went off. Paulette had something else to do anyway.

Adolescent D asked for a 3 p.m. session. He didn’t show up. I’m good with last-minute rescheduling. He doesn’t try to get out of our sessions for the sake of avoiding them. He actually requests work on decoding individual words rather than reading assigned articles. Today, he said he thought the decoding work helped him with his reading. Wow! This is the first, the very first, positive comment he has made on his own. Amazing!

In the meantime, I had the Twins. I worked with Twin A in the Reading Roots 23. She read it fairly fluently. She had the necessary comprehension but needed to be asked the right questions to produce the correct response.

I worked with Twin E on handwriting using the sight words list for the second time. I used the 1-50 Fry Sight Word list the first time, on which she had already demonstrated her fluency. It was interesting to watch her work out what the word might be as I wrote the letters in sequence -slowly. Today, we worked on lists 51-100. She stumbled on the 76-100 section. What is she doing with the words she recognizes readily versus the ones she has difficulty with? She obviously can memorize words. How are they stored? How are they retrieved?

I was reminded of an exercise I did with a boy years ago who had terrible problems learning to read. He’s in his fifties now. He did well enough to get an MBA from Yale. He was a bright kid but not open to change. I developed a game with him that taught me a lot about word recognition. Using plastic letters, I presented him with one letter at a time while he closed his eyes. He had to identify the letter by feeling its shape with his fingers. I gave him three-letter words, usually all in the same word family. Then, he gave me a word to identify.

He picked out words from the dictionary that he couldn’t read. Before laying the letters out, he told me how many letters were in the word. Then, he laid them out one at a time. We always laid them out in sequence from left to right. Given a seven-letter word, I couldn’t do much with one letter. I found I waited until I had a vowel letter before I felt I could even guess. Many guesses were wrong. I had to make corrections, sometimes several times.

This handwriting activity might be a variation of that exercise. It was fun for both the student and me. The student not only got to do it himself, but he also got to observe me modeling the process. Brilliant. I have so many students I can do this with. It won’t be multi-sensory as I was with that boy I worked with forty years ago, but it may be as effective. I’m excited.

I also worked with Twin E on memorizing the sound of the R-controlled, er, ir and ur. Despite the difference in spelling, they make the same sound. I don’t know how many times I have told her that and the Sped teacher has told her that. Why doesn’t that information go in?

Thursday, March 7, 2024

When I ran into Dean and Nina this morning, I asked if he wanted the tree parts Dan was going to cut down. He protested that I shouldn’t do that for him. I assured him it was not just for him. It would save me money. $200 for dumpster and disposal fees. He wanted to be there when Dan came over to cut down the tree.

This morning, I was blocked out of my Apple Mac laptop. It was the same demand for a password I had on my iPad last night. When I tried to sign it, it refused me entrance, saying I had tried too many times. I called the local tech guy, Bailey, at Jack Be Click. He said I had to wait 24 hours. Since I was blocked around 9:30 tonight. I won’t have access until 9:30 tonight. I will bring it to Bailey after my haircut at nine-thirty tomorrow morning. I could also stop at Target and get bread. I knew I needed something else but couldn’t remember what.

My session with twenty-six-year-old S. was cut short. A few minutes after she joined the Zoom session, Mama K called to say she was about to start the IEP sessions for her Twins. I only had a few minutes with S before I had to leave her. I could not get the Sped team to acknowledge Twin E had a memory problem. I assume they think memory problems mean a lack of intelligence. They wouldn’t think so if they worked with Adolescent D. The principal attended both sessions. I picked up antagonism to my point of view. I believe intelligence is taught. I still expect it to be possible for both girls to be outstanding students. Twin E is reading at the first-grade level; Twin A is at a mid-second-grade level. However, when she selects a book for herself, she reads books at a pre-primer level. I still believe the girls can be outstanding students. It ain’t over till it’s over.

I watched a Pema Chodron speech on video on the relationship between self-compassion and self-control. It’s the Buddhist position: just sit with the lousy feeling. I lose self-control if I get frightened enough. It drives me nuts. I have always hated it in myself. It reminded me of my mother. It is why I initially decided not to have children. I swore the abuse would stop here with me. I would not pass it on. Today, for the first time, it seemed possible to stay calm in the face of an upset. Until now, even in the confines of my mind, I found myself snapping at someone. Now, I could imagine working on containing the fear and the subsequent response and thinking of a calm response. It will take practice.

I wondered if I had been as stubborn as Dash about changing and adopting this strategy. Later, I thought the pain level would have been too high to even consider such an option. However, the work I’ve been doing with Shelly on my underlying terror is making it possible now.

I treated the rubber plant and the Ficus tree roots in the lawn area by drilling holes and spraying Round-Up into the holes. Later, I learned they make a stump killer. You apply a powder and pour boiling water over it. I’m good with boiling water.

Dean arrived before Dan. I invited him in and offered him a glass of water. Ice? No. His gums were too sensitive for cold water. Just lukewarm tap water would be best.

I offered him a seat on the lanai. It was a mess. There’s one vacuum cleaner in the kitchen, the new one I haven’t had a chance to use yet. Another vacuum, my Rainbow, is on the lanai. I’ve been using it to clean up Elsa’s stains on the rug. If I pour down enough water, it actually works. The Rainbow is incredible.

Dan arrived promptly. I allowed Elsa to come down with us. She promptly ran into Yvette and Josh’s house. She usually pees or poops promptly. I got her out and looked around. I couldn’t find anything. Brooklyn was just outside the door. I gently picked him up, put him inside, and closed the door. It was the first time I had my hands on him. He has mats all over his body. He hasn’t been able to clean himself in quite a while. He’s not howling in pain. He gets himself outside to do his business. He keeps on trucking.

We decided to take one of the two Royal Poinciana trees. Dan would drive the limbs to Dean’s and drop them off there. I called B to tell him. He made a laughing sound, which meant something was wrong. I asked him what. He said he thought the problem was from the tree on the other side of the driveway. I went down to look. A Schefferaire tree was on that side. I’ve been told those trees can crack cement. I think B was referring to a tree just up the hill from the crack in the driveway. It looked like the Schefferlaire could be the problem. I called Dan. He said they both could be a problem. I decided they both had to come out. B laughed again. I asked him to tell me what the problem was so I could at least make a decision. He said with both trees out, his roof would have no shade. That would be a problem.

I called B later in the day to check on his information about the trees and the crack in the driveway. I met with him after he came home and before my evening walk. I decided B was right. The Schefferlaire was the problem. The crack in the driveway was old, there before we planted the Royal Poincianas. I would call Dan and have just the Schefflera tree taken out.

Darby called. She spotted a particular weed in the driveway and wanted to alert me.

When I met with Adolescent D, I had him continue reading the article we had worked on yesterday. He did remember the word phase, which he had to decode every time he saw it in a single paragraph. When he registered that the word occurred over and over, he finally remembered it. How can I get him to do that on his own? While his decoding is much better, he still makes gross errors.

Mama K contacted me to let me know the girls were available. I had Twin A read Story #23 at a first-grade level. She read with reasonable accuracy but very slowly. The IEP reported that she had passed the sight word list up to grade level. That was my experience, too. She still needed help with decoding skills. She had trouble with digraphs.

In Twin E’s IEP meeting I understood the teacher to say she had bad handwriting. It inspired me to combine handwriting instruction with work on the sight word list. I wrote each letter slowly. She could guess as we went along, but she had to account for all the letters. She recognized each word I wrote. Their iPad ran out of juice. She responded well to the activity. Who knew a multisensory approach might be beneficial? That’s me being sarcastic.

Carol joined Lutz and me on our walk. Carol was having problems with the solar company not honoring the warranty. Lutz gave her legal advice. The man is a wealth of information.

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

In my session with Shelly today, I dealt with my friend, terror. I imagined a world where no one wants to know about the other. We were all looking at each other with sightless eyes. It was a dismal world, like a grey

bombed-out Berlin, London, or Dresden after WWII. I had another opportunity to sit with despair. With that came the realization if I expected less, I’d get more. That’s the trick, isn’t it?

I remember having a similar realization in my twenties. I needed a certain level of connection with people to feel safe. I finally realized a 30% overlap with another person was a high degree of intimacy. Accepting that freed me to be grateful for what I could share with another person. I have to discover this principle over and over in different areas of my life.

“We always desire so passionately, if we could only accept passionately,” are wise words a woman I barely knew dropped casually one day. A while later, I repeated the words to her when she was in distress. I hope they helped her.

I found the remains of the sheet of tiles the contractor had used for the kitchen splashboard. The sheets were useless, but someone could use the individual tiles in a mosaic. I do hate to throw away things that can be used. I boiled the tiles to separate them from the backing sheet and then scrapped off the remaining glue. Both Habitat for Humanity and Goodwill rejected them. I posted them on the Facebook marketplace. I had three takers. Two didn’t pan out. I met with the third at a local strip mall. They gave me $10 for the two boxes even though I offered them for free. The money covered the cost of the ad.

I went to Ulu Wini after the man came to pick up the tiles.

I arrived early and did a session with Adolescent D while I waited for the school bus with the kids to arrive. D is decoding much faster.

It wasn’t a great day with the kids. Most were resistant one way or another. First-grade K was hungry and tired. He doesn’t use the automatic recall strategy I taught. For him, the other way, systematic decoding, is faster and more reliable. It is hard for him to understand that using automatic recall will ultimately be better. I had difficulty pushing him to do that.

Second-grade P just wanted to read to me. When I tried to intervene and teach her something, she was overtly resistant. When I asked her directly if I could intervene, she said no. I gave in. She was probably right. Just reading the books and figuring it out herself was the best thing for her to do.

When I opened my updates file this evening, I discovered all the entries between February 27 and March 6 had been lost. I opened another file, ‘interim updates,’ which started on March 6. Fortunately, those were saved. I’ll never know what I missed.

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

I had another brilliant night’s sleep. I was in bed by 9:30 and only woke enough to check the time at 4:30. Wow! This is a record!

I was reluctant to do my morning Gentle seated yoga series, but habit won out, thank God! I felt great afterward. Despite running late, I ran into Dean and Nina on my morning walk. They also had gotten a late start; she would be late to work today.

When I got home, I took an hour’s nap, waking at 10, full of energy. I put up a laundry and vacuumed another stained area on the lanai rug. I poured a carafe of water on the spot stained by Elsa and vacuumed it up with my Rainbow vacuum. It is fun to use. The sucking action is so powerful you can see the color of the carpet change to its original color. Wonderful!

I cleaned out the trash barrel where I threw the plants I had pulled out of the front patch. There was a big juicy centipede. Those are gross but not dangerous. It’s the little blue ones that deliver a punch.

Yvette came up and helped me tilt the lawnmower to clean the bottom. When Darby came over for our evening walk, she handed me a lid from something. It was the perfect shape for cleaning the accumulated grass off the bottom of the lawnmower. It was pristine now. Patrick had cleaned it up before handing the machine over to me.

Monday, March 4, 2024

I was sort of up by 3:30. I tried the self-compassion meditation I learned yesterday from a YouTube video that popped up while lying in bed. We all need that.

Brene Brown argues for the banishment of shame. God forbid. But it's certainly out of control in our society now. It isn't new to our age. Buddha and Christ both addressed the issue of shame over 2,000 years ago. We need a highly structured social organization not devoted to punishment, where we know exactly where we should be and what we should be doing at all times to be relieved of excessive shame. We're living in organizational chaos at this point. Too much information with too many options. We live with constant uncertainty. We live in constant awareness of all we don't know. We live in a continual state of anxiety. No wonder there's a craving for a dictatorship. However, whose dictatorship?

All those seeking a strongman leader assume that the leader will create the order that they want. Sorry folks! That's not an option. Given the range of desired outcomes, I can imagine a world where no one is content, and everyone feels they've been squeezed into a tight pair of shoes.

What's the option? It is learning to live with uncertainty. Learning to tolerate not knowing. Learning to forgive ourselves and others for being other than perfect. It's hard. It's damn hard. Can we, as a species, rise to the occasion? I think this is the solution, and I find it hard. What about all those for whom this isn't a considered option? They want the world ordered to their specifications.

John, my Hanai sister's husband, has dementia. This brilliant man has a memory span of three minutes when last checked. The other day, he couldn't remember how to use the key fob to get into his building. He stood in the cold and rain until someone came along to open the door. He's suffering from antegrade amnesia. I know from the studies with HM someone who suffered from this as a young man due to a surgical procedure to save his life. The poor man couldn't remember that his wife had visited him and mourned her absence. So sad. John isn't that bad yet. How can his problem with the building entry be solved?

He's working with a psychologist who does exercises with him. Since hearing Ellen Langer's lecture on the impact of mindlessness versus mindfulness in teaching, I am ever more alert to the possibility of mindless lesson plans that make no adaptation for the student. Does this psychologist have a list of exercises to do, whether meaningful or not?

Based on what I know about the experiments with HM, here's one I recommend for John's problem remembering how to get into the building.

While John's conscious working memory may be shot, it is possible to bypass it and get the information into his unconscious muscle memory.

Here's the experiment they did with HM, a man who couldn't recognize a doctor he saw every day two minutes after he saw him. The doctor entered the room and greeted HM, shaking his hand. In his hand, he had one of those gadgets that produces shocks. HM responded appropriately to the stimulus. The good doctor left the room and returned in minutes. HM had no conscious memory of the man. However, he refused to take the doctor's outstretched hand when he offered it. The experience penetrated deep into his brain. They did other less stimulating experiments to see what was embedded in the implicit memory.

Based on those experiments, here is what I recommend:

John repeats the process of opening the door with his fob five to ten times in rapid succession. Then, do a short walkabout or provide some other distractor and have him open the door with his fob. If that's successful, wait two minutes with a distractor. Since three minutes is the recorded time for retaining a memory, increase wait times and distractors by 30 seconds. The goal is to have him use the fob effectively after five minutes. This should be reviewed daily.

I had a session with 26-year-old S. I had her read a low third-grade passage. It went much better than the children's picture book we had been using, which had complex language and large words.

I had first-grade B read the teacher-assigned passage with me for the first time. Up to this point, the teacher sent home the passage on Monday when her mom read it to her, and they spent the rest of the week practicing the passage to be evaluated on Friday. Her word recognition was accurate if slow. Both her mom and I were impressed with her decoding skills. The problem is she can't read the passage fast enough to score well. It's a commercially prepared passage labeled as first grade. it contains multisyllabic words and complex sentences. B's mom said she did so well in Kindergarten. B is a bright child. She may have relied on sight recall and her outstanding story memory. But these passages are far above B's ability. Both Judy and I find the passage unreasonably difficult. You're supposed to give students challenges within their range, not way above their ability level, to prove they can't read.

I had a follow-up visit with my new primary after seeing Dr. Reed, my old primary, on a same-day basis. Dr. Reed wanted her to check if the

5-HPT was effective. Reed recommended it. The Lexapro I had been taking before Mike died. I didn't have the symptoms of depression. I could not only function but could enjoy moments of life and feel awe at every sunset. That's not depression. I had anxiety, loneliness, and sadness, all circumstantial. She said 5-HPT would help my body produce serotonin, whereas the Lexapro would prevent serotonin reuptake. The 5-HPT would be less intrusive.

My new primary care physician, Dr. Scheidt, ordered blood tests and a new bone density test. According to my notes, I had one last year.

Sunday, March 3, 2024

I went to church early to deliver my contributions to the Silent Auction. I arrived shortly after 8. I made several trips from the cars to the tent where the items and the lists were set up. I can appreciate Shirley’s discomfort with my contributions. No one else donated actual items. It was kind of her to be as cooperative as she was.

I finally put MakesNoClaims (Intrasound) on my sore ‘had none’ toe on my left foot. I saw a difference almost immediately.

Since Damon refused to call me when I was in the hospital, I’ve kept a record of his calls just so I know what is happening instead of imagining something distressing. He calls once every two weeks with great regularity. I don’t need more now. I thoroughly enjoy talking to him when he calls. He shares the details of his life with me. It’s a real conversation.

I finished mowing the strip by the street. God, I love that battery-powered lawnmower. I love mowing the lawn. It’s the kind of detailed activity I like, watching each patch of grass cut down.

Adolescent D remembered a word from yesterday’s reading, phase. He had underlined it five times every time it appeared in the paragraph. Before he underlined it, he decoded the word anew each time he encountered it. While he could easily read the word, he didn’t remember having seen it the day before.

I also had a session with third grade M. I discovered she wasn’t making pictures in her mind as she read. Her reading was so fluent it never occurred to me. She had difficulty doing something she wasn’t used to doing. It made her cranky.

It was Darby’s night to accompany me on my evening walk. She gave me some information on reassembling the lawnmower. I had taken the grass catcher basket off and tried to put the alternative to the basket back in place but couldn’t. She gave me great hugs and positive feedback as we parted in the driveway.

I tried to watch Midsummer Murders. Mike and I watched it together and loved it, but it didn’t appeal to me. There was too little edge. I settled on Chelsea Detective.

Saturday, March 2, 2024

I walked with Nina and Dean this morning. She said the Intrasound I gave her continued to work. Her keloid scars weren’t as red and slightly smaller. However, while she had put off the regular monthly steroid injections, she was planning to start them up again. Wasn’t the Intrasound working? Yes, but it would make it go faster if she did both. It took ten years to flatten one. Every time she got the shots, it flattened the scars and reduced the itching for only two months. Dean and I both said the steroid shots with this high toxicity might be counteractive. Oh. You gave the steroids ten years to work; why not give the Intrasound some time. She put off the next appointment till July. Intrasound is not getting equal time.

I spent the day organizing vintage linens for the silent auction. Then, I continued my efforts to mow the lawn. Yesterday, I got the machine and the battery down to the lawn area, put in the battery, and couldn’t get it started. I called Darby in a panic, wondering what I had done wrong now. She said I probably hadn’t pushed the battery in far enough. I tried it again, pushing it in harder and pushing the buttons in the required sequence. Darby was right. I hadn’t pushed the battery in deep enough. I completed mowing the lawn, the areas I couldn’t get to earlier. I loved using this machine. What a difference from the gas mower I was raised with.

Adolescent D and I worked on a reading assignment on mitosis. The word ‘phase’ was repeated five times in one paragraph. He decoded the word each time as if he had never seen it before. Each paragraph had repeated words. I had him note the words. He thought to underline them. I noticed there were several other repeated words in the paragraph. I suggested he underline those two with a different color. When he reread the passage, he remembered the words without having to decode them. Some of his memory problems are caused by not paying sufficient attention. He doesn’t make a mental note about something he notices.

I lit the yahrzeit candle at sunset to commemorate Mke’s death anniversary. It was the fifth anniversary of his death.

Friday, March 1, 2024

Wow! As I typed the date, I realized the fifth anniversary of Mike's death was only two days away. Grief continues to get worse. I'm not debilitated. I enjoy much of what is going on in my life. Most things are generally in a positive trajectory. Some are just stuck.

Yesterday, Elaine invited me to join her on her walk. We had a great conversation. Today, as she came down the street in the opposite direction, she announced that Dean and Nina were on their way toward me. Dan passed us in his truck as we walked. He yelled that he hadn't forgotten he had to call me. We were making arrangements to cut down a tree ripping up the driveway.

I spent most of the day preparing the antique linens for the church silent auction. Everything had to be washed, ironed, organized, and priced.

I stopped at Goodwill to drop off some donations from Yvette and me before I went to Kia to return the loaner and pick up my car. I pointed out the dents in the loaner car. Tyler said not to worry. I mentioned I might be interested in buying the loaner. He said it would be retired in a few months. When I got in my car, I was relieved to be rid of the loaner car with all those bells and whistles. They were distracting. I anticipated having a car accident as I focused on them. I discovered that Kia didn't fill up my tank while I added fuel to theirs.

Jean, my friend, and I hooked up at three p.m. We speak every day to share in a meditation/affirmation. We do this because we know if we don't do it with someone else, we won't do it.

I mowed the lower lawn area yesterday with that amazing battery-powered lawn mower Patrick and Darby lent me. They have two. The battery died on the one they gave me. They bought a second one and eventually got a new battery for the first one. I offered to buy it, but Patrick wanted to feel he could have access to it. I assured him he could even if I bought it. No, this arrangement suited him. It suits me. I like having him sharpen the blade when needed instead of taking it to a shop.

At 5:30 Darby came over for our evening walk with Patrick in tow. He had a hand trowel in his back pocket. When mowing the lawn, I concluded there was just a shallow mulch cover in the area where the Ficus trees had been uprooted. Patrick said I had to lay nine to twelve inches of mulch down to kill off the remaining roots. Patrick was there to check the depth. He walked to the middle of the area, took out his handy trowel, and started digging. He pronounced the condition as favorable. There was at least six inches of mulch. While it was not as much as he had said I needed, he said it was hot under the mulch. The heat was needed to cook the roots to death. What a way to go!

Patrick and Darby moved the plastic border trimmers off the lawn and onto the mulched area so I could finish mowing the lawn.

I can only plant new shrubs in six to eight months. If I do it sooner, the heat will kill the new plants and the old roots. I was concerned about the roots running through the lawn area, but Dan assured me they would die on their own.

I finally took a good look at my sore left foot. My 'this little pig who had none' was swollen. I need to have a doctor look at it. In the meantime, I applied MakesNoClaims (Intrasound Gel).

Monday, May 25, 2026

Thursday, February 29, 2024

We had driveway yoga today instead of on Wednesday. Yvette had to schedule something for Wednesday morning and offered the class today instead. It was just Yvette and me in the driveway and Deb in Seattle on FaceTime.

I had a session with twenty-six-year-old S today. I didn’t see much progress over the last class. She still has problems disregarding letters. When I tell her she’s wrong, she can easily correct herself.

I had an appointment for an eye exam. I’m not going to get glasses anymore. Whatever problems I have seeing without my glasses, my vision is better without them. I need something like five modifications to my glasses. The smallest maladjustment of the frame, and they became useless. I did have my retina checked. I had a foveal pucker. I still have some, but the condition has been improving. Meali’inani did a cursory vision check. My vision is actually better. My right eye is for distance 20/20. My left eye is better than it was before. I thought she would diagnose eye strain, but no, she said my eye muscles are getting stronger. No sign of macular degeneration. Usually, there is some by my age. The veins in my eyes look good. She said she has seen 18-year-olds in worse shape than me. Mixed news. It predicts long life- but is that good or bad? Looks like I’m going to find out.

I stopped off at Island Naturals on the way back home. I love their tuna salad and raspberry mini strudels. I also stopped off at the transfer station. There was no one there. Wow!

Josephine canceled for today. She said they were too busy to accommodate me, and rain was possible. I drove into the Ulu Wini subdivision to donate something to Habitat for Humanity. The rain had passed by the time I got there, but I could see good-sized puddles. While I had not seen rain where I had been, I had poured at the higher altitude.

When I got home, I got to work preparing the linens to donate to the church silent auction. While I love some of the items, I have no idea what to do with them. They’ll all wind up in the trash when I die. Better put them in the hands of someone who will appreciate them.

I finally got the call from Kia saying my car was ready. Today was the end of week eight when my car was in the shop. Tyler agreed it was late; I could pick it up on Friday. I felt sad about surrendering the loaner, a newer car with more features. I considered trading my car in and paying the difference. We’ll see.