Category Archives: Uncategorized

Did you see the game?

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Yesterday’s incomparable Women’s NCAA Basketball Final? 🏀

This is not a debriefing. We have professionals for post-game analysis. This is just to say that if you can watch a recording, or the top plays on your favorite sports’ station, do it!

I have been watching women’s NCAA basketball for many years now. One of our family members played against Diana Taurasi in an AAU Tournament in Coronado, California, and scored against her, too! I have spent holiday weekends at AAU tournaments for the love of the game.

Iowa and South Carolina both played exceptional games. Team stars Clark and Cardoso lit up the stadium. The game was so good that bench players poured in points as well. 6’7” Brazilian player, Kamilla Cardoso, and American player, Caitlin Clark of Iowa, record-setting three-point shooter, brought different styles of play to today’s game. Who did you most enjoy watching on the court yesterday?

For me, it is important to see the teams coached by women win. Thanks to Dawn Staley and Lisa Bluder we watched two women’s teams coached by women in the 2024 NCAA Women’s Final! Once women are the head coaches of men’s teams, I will relax on this point, but as our brilliant US Women’s Soccer Team keeps reminding us, sexism is alive and well in sports ⚽️

Did you call the winner of this game? I did not! Who do you most look forward to watching in the WNBA?

He’s got hops!

Friends from Buy Nothing

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You would never know what an effort I have put into giving away unused and underutilized possessions in this home!

At least the exercise equipment is colorful. Some of it is merely aspirational at this point, and will find a new home in our basement. (The basement was waterproofed during the pandemic, but not finished, so it is not a comfortable place to spend time.)

We bought this home twenty years ago. It was built in 1955, and the race car curtains hanging in the boys’ bedroom were definitely from that era. They looked worn, but I couldn’t just toss them. Today they hang in a Volkswagen Microbus sporting 1950s decor.

Curtains from the 1950s?

Parting with my beloved Frye boots was possibly an overhasty move. But they no longer fit comfortably. Since I never have used curlers, I was surprised to find an unused set in the closet: They appeared dated, yet were also quickly claimed.

Conair Curlers Lurking in the Closet

The best gift I received from Buy Nothing, the best possible gift, has been the gift of friendship with a young family. They will move back to their home country in a few months, and we will sorely miss them!

When people ask how we met, the answer is always “through Buy Nothing!” When they first arrived to an empty apartment, they realized that they did not have the IKEA tool necessary to assemble their toddler’s bed. Our house is decorated with a mix of antiques from grandparents and consignment shops, along with “Early IKEA,” purchased twenty plus years ago from the IKEA in Tustin, California.

From the IKEA tool, and a follow up thank you via the Messenger app, a tentative friendship began. I mentioned that I was studying Portuguese when my friend, Anita, said they were here from Brazil. We have no grandchildren, and they have no family in the US, so our intergenerational friendship has grown. We enjoy visits from Caio when his parents are busy. Our basement holds tubs of Duplos, Tinker Toys, Playmobil, and K’Nex, and our bookshelves are full of Dr. Seuss books.

Caio with Tinker Toys

Our friends have had a new family member since their arrival! I had so much fun baking a child’s birthday cake, and bringing out my Tupperware “Cake Taker” for the first time in years for George’s first birthday. He is a little boy now ❤️

Physiatrists and Orthopedists

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There is no way I can communicate at any length, with openness, without mentioning my medical issues.

Today I am off to the physiatrists office for a spinal epidural. Last year I had lumbar spine facet joint injections twice. So at least I know the doctor.

At the moment, I am procrastinating, and won’t make it to the appointment on time unless I leave now. Footnote: I was on time. The physician was not….

Some phrases I love in Portuguese and Spanish:

“Estou atrasada, como sempre”⏰

“Un ratito. Estoy casi lista” ⏰

We have devastating weather on top of devastating news. The pathetic fallacy often appears to hold true. The tragedy of World Central Kitchen aid workers killed while delivering food is disabling. Please read Chef José Andrés guest New York Times Opinion essay. He looks for, and calls upon, the best in everyone.

One of our son’s friends from his WCK weeks in Poland was one of the seven aid workers killed yesterday. Our son is planning to sing at a local friend’s funeral this weekend. He will doubtless also hold his Polish friend in his heart as he sings.

In the photos below, I look back upon the time just before Covid. Just typical photos of two tourists in Mexico in March 2020. We stayed at a wonderful Airbnb, but strolled down to a hotel one afternoon.

Circe in San Felipe del Agua, Oaxaca de Juarez
SO in San Felipe del Agua, Oaxaca de Juarez

April 1

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Retired. Retired is a term that applies to people of a certain age. The elders in our family range from 86 to ninety, so they do not think of themselves as retired, nor would anyone think to inquire. Their project is to have as much fun as possible.

Since I never worked in the corporate world, and my only full time position was as a parent, retirement crept up on me. Retired from what, exactly?

I had several careers, which I may dissect at a later date. But today I am here to remark upon my somewhat new status. I have not responded to the last two requests to work as a tutor of English for our local school district. The hourly fee is fair enough, but engaging with guidance counselors is generally painful. I found it to be so in high school, and though there are exceptions, I find it so today. In addition to corresponding with counselors, the school tutor must correspond with teachers, parents, and school administrators. Interacting with the students themselves is often delightful and rewarding. But being paid one hour for every four or five worked is unrewarding, and even a bit offensive. I suggested free lessons at our public library to a neighbor I was tutoring in ESL. Tutoring ESL to an adult involved intercultural exchange of ideas, and I do wish we had continued.

But I am so busy! No, I am neither a grandparent, nor am I a frequent world traveler. So how do I keep so busy and largely satisfied with my own company during the days?

Read on, tomorrow!

Sketch by Circe

Vanity

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Vanity is universal. We are all vain.

Yes, it is Lent, so I am paying closer attention to where and how I spend my time and resources. Or am I? The siren call to look better and younger is rarely ignored.

When we spoke yesterday, an elderly friend, suffering from stage 4 cancer and the side effects of chemo, complained as bitterly about his hair loss. Hair loss seemed to bother him as much as his revelations about the process of dying.

He said no one would listen to him. So I tried. Maybe “Mmmm” was all I needed to say. But I asked whether he was able to sleep, had a metallic taste in his mouth, and more. I failed to ask whether he was scared to death of death. He is busy being angry. He has not really accepted death as the nearly inevitable outcome of this illness. None of us is good at facing that inevitable outcome. It challenges our credulity. We cannot imagine a world without ourselves in it.

Ash Wednesday is my favorite liturgical day of the year. “You will die,” proclaims the preacher. “Dust you are, and to dust you shall return.” It takes off so much pressure. Dust cannot be accomplished, successful, “purpose-driven,” beautiful, kind, or wealthy. Dust does not interact with other strivers on Twitter or LinkedIn. Dust leaves no legacy. What a relief! It’s the best hall pass ever.

Despite this profound revelation, I found myself taken aback after the Ash Wednesday service when a brief conversation with the kindest, gentlest woman took a strange turn. I did not recognize Amy, so she took off her mask, and reintroduced herself. She looked at me, and pronounced me “so very beautiful.” That was then, and this is now. The lights were dim. I am beyond middle age. I am trying to accept this humbling aging business. I hope that she meant an interior glow shining through.

How are you managing the competition between your interior and exterior glow?

When Covid and Cries for Social Justice Raged

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Assessing the past two years occupies much airspace at the moment.

What if I were to tell it as a story? A story of what I gained, versus what I lost. A reimagined narrative might begin with the words

Once upon a time, a woman who was betwixt and between, was told to stay home for safety’s sake. The doors of the schools, church, salon, dentist’s office, and gym were slammed shut. The church doors were actually closed gently, and windows of the church flung wide open to all.

The gym was bolted shut. So her family room became her exercise station. She found exercise and television mutually compatible. Her first phase of watching (really hearing) the Supreme Court with RBG as a sitting justice, was most intellectually stimulating, simply riveting business.

We cooked an entire Thanksgiving meal, and nobody came to partake in our holiday repast. We were a little hurt, but enjoyed our meal nevertheless.

Wearing a mask 😷 to choir rehearsal was not enjoyable, but it was necessary to protect people with fragile immune systems. It was much better than being intubated! Only vaccinated choristers were permitted to sing. We provided proof of vaccination. Medical history and status, normally private matters, were openly appraised. We live in an area where everyone we knew was vaccinated against Covid as soon as possible.

One of our sons worked in a large New York City Hospital. He was moved to the Covid wards before any vaccinations were made available. Patients died during most shifts. There weren’t enough KN95 masks. He rotated his five masks. He walked home in his scrubs against the tide of Black Lives Matter protesters. He empathized with their cause, but with 14 hour or longer shifts, only had the energy to walk home, remove his scrubs, and shower. These were bleak times.

We are all glad they are over. I’m not sure what we could have done differently.

I participated in a social justice book group, and we attended a Black Lives Matter protest in a mid-sized city nearby.

I sewed masks for family members, double layers of cotton. They might have been a step above the scarves and gaiters we wore loosely tied around our mouths and noses before science had made us more aware of what would actually provide protection. No one misses those thin, scratchy pale blue masks.

What did you do during the Covid pandemic to make it more tolerable? Or was it not at all tolerable for you?

SO makes the best turkey!

A friend and I attended the opera at the Met in October 2021!

This post was drafted well over a year ago, in early 2022, and added to today. There is so much more to say.

Circe

Titanic Sinking

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It was unsinkable. Now all the titanics are sinking, and we are drowning or afloat in solitary lifeboats. Despite the solemn imprecation to avoid others, we are urged to develop our sense of community. But people who live in this suburb cast down their eyes and step aside as we pass.

Solitary

Sedentary

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No, no. I’m not, really. But I do fear becoming so.

Am I crab walking, sidling up to my next “purpose”? Currently, I eschew leaps & bounds. Leaps, bounds, & orthopedists go together.

ACL Brace-Wearing Mermaid in Sports Bra

Confidentially, I still do some “stupid things” as my physical therapist says. In mid-July, I struggled down the steep steps to Bash Bish Falls. (My ACL brace is submerged in this photo.)

Urged by an impatient spouse and a few wild things, I later struggled down a steep hillside, and waded in muck into Lake Taghkanic. Bubbles ascending from the reedy muck alerted me to the presence of snapping turtles. But I plunged onward, breast-stroking through the reeds into the clear warm lake.

The offspring sprang, recklessly plunging in, and swimming across the lake and back. Only six weeks out from a complex back procedure, cautionary words from a suddenly sensible spouse stopped me midway. I lolled about on my neon green swim noodle, soothed by the serene waters of a warm, quiet lake.

I had an active day for a sedentary person.

Circe

“I’m not talking about that now!”

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The art of conversation….

This response always hurts my feelings, and makes me feel belittled. You may not be talking about “that,” but I was attempting to.

The above seems like an appropriate response to a difficult conversation, or to a tragic or revolting topic. Today I was musing about where my son might shop for clothing. He has asked for clothing for Christmas. He was working on his bike in the family room, and I was working in the kitchen. Had he said, “I’m really busy, can we discuss that later,” or even “I’m too busy right now,” then I wouldn’t feel summarily dismissed.

Can anyone help me with my issue about feeling shut down when I hear this phrase?

Our son has briefly moved home after living many years in another state, so I did not object to a bike shop in the family room.

We also had an issue about having a fire last night. He was warm, and I was cold, so I suggested he move the repair operation away from the fireplace. When the fire was built, and I wanted the main door shut to keep the warmth in, I was told I cannot compromise. Dad did not speak up on my behalf. So I went upstairs to my space heater and my book. Not being especially neat myself, I have said nothing about tools and clothes all around.

He helped me bake an apple pie today, per tradition. He dropped me and picked me up from yoga on Monday. He has barely arrived, and he worked hard yesterday, so I have been doing his dishes. Lately, I have been too busy for my own lunch dishes, but I have taken the holiday off.

Indeed, I work from home, and I am used to having things my way at home. But I want him to feel at home, too. And maybe we could both work on being thankful.

I think I am being tolerant, helpful, verging-on-doormat Mom, and instead am being met with some hostility, and called out over minor things.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving! There is no one in the world I would rather see!

So I am asking for advice. It would be easier if I needed help deciding on a side dish, or whether to wear the black or purple patterned dress, or just jeans or cords. Since the only person I can change is me, I would appreciate thoughtful advice about what to do.

He slammed the door, and tore off to visit his older brother as planned (minus the door-slamming.)

We have been watching The British Baking Show. It is cheery, clever, silly, and calming. Now for more of the American baking show and pecan pies.

I expected issues, just not so many, so quickly. It can’t be easy to move home, even for a day.

Keep calm and carry on?

Circe

#family #Thanksgiving #compromise

Ratchet

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Basic Knowledge 101

A Brief Quiz:

Do you know what a ratchet is?

Have you ever used a ratchet?

If so, when, and for what purpose?

Somehow, I missed Basic Knowledge 101. Sure, I can turn on a stove, and cook dinner, but if my stove or oven were to break, I would simply use the grill or the camp stove. That is, unless the camp stove is stashed somewhere inacessible in the rafters. The problem is, I don’t know how to repair or maintain household objects, or appliances, or even my own bicycle.

I am always prepared for vehicular emergencies, but I have never changed a tire. On that note, I think I will order a headlamp-style flashlight to keep in my car, and at least watch a YouTube video on changing a tire.

In the last two weeks I have threaded a bobbin on an expletive-inducing, unnecesarily complex, sewing machine. I also figured out how to start and use the electric lawnmower.

Yesterday, I learned what a ratchet is for, and how to use one. My newfound knowledge of ratchets is courtesy of my husband, who was confidently employing one and let me try. I had no idea why he was doing something noisy to the inside of the garage doors. He was tightening nuts. Or was he tightening bolts?

A kind, if amused, friend helped with verbal and visual explanations. He even forwarded two gifs. They made sense, since I had already had a kinesthetic learning experience.

To learn, I must do it myself. Observation alone is insufficient.

A bit of background: I am not unable to create  things with my hands, but words are the tools I employ regularly. I can knit, crochet, sew, embroider, cook, and grow a plant from seed. Yes, I am a woman. My education included home economics, but not shop or carpentry. My parents, apparently, did not consider learning how to build or fix anything mechanical part of my basic education. Or else I resisted learning. I was busy reading, playing dress-ups, climbing trees, journaling, and helping with housework and retail sales in a family-owned shop. Enough about the past!

What tool should I use next? For what basic task?

I await your suggestions. I also hope to figure out how to enable pingbacks. I will try to include a pingback in my next post. This one has languished unpublished for several months.

Perhaps my first goal should be to overcome my new fear of publishing and writers block: Time to ratchet up my writing!

Circe