Blogs

30 September 2021

Today is my birthday – the triple witching hour for options.  I had a lovely lunch at the Witherspoon Grill in Princeton, New Jersey with Annie.  Had my first lobster roll in years.  I love New England!  We spoke of many things near and far, in distance and time.   Annie is a remarkable person.  A great day!

28 September 2021

Hello from Princeton Junction, New Jersey!  I flew here on Saturday morning and have been busy absorbing the intricacies of caring for a 3-year old.  

11 September 2021

Where was I on 9/11/2001?  Sitting in Rick Mills’ office at Fox Stations Sales in Dallas, not believing the images on Rick’s portable black and white TV, watching the Twin Towers catch fire and fall.   Business ceased.  All air traffic was grounded.  We checked with some of our station people who were actually visiting New York City on business on 9/11:  “are you all right?”;  “do you have a place to stay?”   No one could fly home and there were no cars available to rent.   We were all stunned by what we were witnessing.   I called my brother, an architect, who informed me that the Towers would collapse from the heat.  No one expected this.  But then, down they both went.   

My life has included many pivotal historic moments:  the Kennedy assassination, Jack Ruby shooting Lee Harvey Oswald (on Live television!), Martin Luther King assassination, Watergate saga and Nixon’s resignation, Viet Nam War conclusion, Oklahoma City bombing,  January 6th Insurrection, and now 9/11.  I remember where I was at the exact moment I learned about these events or watched them on television.  I remember being stunned by the Oswald shooting – live news coverage was relatively new in the 1960’s.  It was too real for words. 

Until 9/11.  I watched the replay of the first plane crashing into the World Trade Center.  We all thought this must be a horrible accident.  Then the second plane flew into the other Tower and the reality of “intentional action” sank in.  Someone did this on purpose.  We have been attacked.  Who would do this?  Shortly afterward, we learned about the Pentagon and then the Pennsylvania crash.  These planes were only separated by the time it took to reach their destination.  One, two, three, four.  Are there more to come?  We were living in a modern day “Blitz”. 

There were roughly twelve speechless people in Rick’s office that morning.  All eyes were fastened to the action on the ground in New York City and Washington D.C.   No business was possible.  It would have to wait.  We reached out to friends and workers in these cities to be sure they were okay.  Then we went home in silence to hug our children a bit more closely, and mourned the lives lost that day.   

3 September 2021

My friend Emily is suffering from a cold that she is afraid might be COVID. Because of her poor eyesight, her driving days are over so I drove her to get a COVID test.  Hopefully, it is negative.  The death of her good friend and business partner has left her with a very heavy work load, not to mention emotional load.  Prayers for her are most welcome.  

It’s Labor Day weekend.  so much to do and so little time.  I just wish the heat would let up so I could tackle some of the work around the HOA.   

The days are getting shorter:  dark in the morning until about 630am and dark at night by shortly after 8pm.  Skippy and I have to change our walking habits.  

I am reading a book called “Switch” which is about making changes.  So many of the suggestions about making change are procedures I’ve used for many years.  For example, they recommend a visual postcard of your long-term goal (done that many times), breaking the change steps into small pieces (do this all the time), and  making a list of easiest to hardest tasks providing motivation by being able to cross a few off quickly (do that a lot).   Never thought there was a book in that!   – The key to the success of any change path is having a person in charge who is creative enough to design the goal and the path, but also will continually provide motivation.  If the manager is lacking these qualities – or, worse, is simply lazy – the change project will not work.   Very good book.  I might add it to my 2022 Book Club list.  

31 August 2021

I am starting to inventory books.  Culling my library will be very tough.  I will have to give them away to friends who will appreciate them.  

One book I went through this morning is called “Range”.  The author, David Epstein, presented compelling evidence that the most creative and innovative people are those who read and experience life widely, and are able to adapt what they learn from one context to another.  I know this to be true on the outside, but, as a practical matter, I know it is also very tough to be that person on the inside of a company.   Epstein doesn’t talk about what it’s like to be the “outlier” within an organization.  Usually, the cost accountants or management eliminate the outlier, either because he or she doesn’t have a specific “output” or he or she is deemed “not part of the team”.  The top person at the firm has to override lower management impulses to eliminate the outlier, but it rarely happens unless a company is exceptionally profitable and can absorb the extra cost.   If the margin is narrow, however, out you go.  

It takes a great deal of courage to be the engineer who might have raised his hand and said “we don’t have all the data we need to make a decision” before the Challenger was launched.   I agree with Epstein’s premise that we wholeheartedly wish someone had spoken up, but it would have been a very lonely engineer in the aftermath.   After all, it’s hard to prove a point by what didn’t happen.  Much easier to look at disasters in hindsight and say what should have happened and have kept our job. 

I have always been the “outlier” – I think, even since childhood.  It is so fundamental to my being that I cannot imagine being any other way.   On the one hand, I feel very free to learn about any topic that interests me (and there are a lot!), but am such a generalist that it takes effort to drill down on a specific topic.  I do try – lately even more.  

22 August 2021

I took another COVID test yesterday – fingers crossed that it will be negative!  The only lagging symptoms include poor taste and smell ability, and my right ear still doesn’t want to open all the way.  Better, but not 100% yet.  Otherwise, I’m good to go.   

Lately I’ve been working on two projects:   the first is Susan’s family tree on Ancestry (fascinating! – she’ll love the information when complete).  The other is more “research-oriented” – a project that examines the 3-pronged intersection of caste/class system, capitalism and religion in current society.   I’ve been turning these topics over in  my mind for months  with observations and readings, and it’s becoming clearer by the day. 

The year 2042 had been designated as the year when white people will be below 50% of the U.S. population.  Surprise, surprise – the 2020 census shows that we are already here!  All the state politicians are working feverishly to gerrymander  new districts and suppress voting of minority populations.  How? purging the voting rolls, reducing the number of voting locations in heavily Democratic areas, strict ID requirements, eliminating independent election boards so the results can be overturned by the state legislature, tightening mail-in voter applications, and so on.  All were manufactured by the Heritage Foundation’s legal team and taken to each Republican-controlled state in order to create their own strict mandates. 

Bottom line is voter suppression, not voter integrity.  The white people, faced with minority status, are digging in and looking for any way possible to tip the scales in their favor.  The 2022 election will not be pretty, but I fear 2024 will be a fiasco. 

The “browning” of America upsets the caste system laid down with the settlement of this continent.  They brought the legal system and capitalism with them.  From Angle-Saxon times, the English have maintained a rigid class system:  once this crossed the Pond and was superimposed on slavery, it became an even more rigid “caste system”.    Merge this with the capitalist system supported by a religious imperative, and you have the impossible political system we are currently experiencing. 

If the situation doesn’t figure out a way to cool off, I fear we are headed for a collapse of the whole system or another civil war.  Right now I’m fixated on the intersections in order to find a solution.  So far, I see no exit ramp.     

12 August 2021

Although a bit better today, I am still not out of the woods with COVID.  At least today I feel like I can “power through” the day.  Tiny oxygen meter said “93” last night and “95” this morning.  I’m on the mend.  

11 August 2021

I am quarantined with the delta variant of COVID until Friday the 13th.  Looking back, I believe I picked up the virus at the first public marketing event attended in well over a year on Wednesday, July 28.  There were about 40 people in close quarters there, none of which were masked including me.  The stress of traveling two days later enabled the virus to take hold, with symptoms appearing first on Friday July 30th.  

I’ve heard that “breakout” symptoms  include headache, sore throat, fever, congestion, cough and loss of smell.  My symptoms included the latter 4, but not the headache and sore throat.  It is like a bad cold, but not exactly.  Fatigue is definitely part of the mix, but any illness with a low grade fever will be accompanied by fatigue.  My fluid intact has been huge and recovery has included a lot of rest.   Very little appetite.  

Many people have called or checked in daily which I greatly appreciate.  So far, I haven’t needed any supplies or support.  I can make it to Friday, but will mask wherever I shop for the next week and change masks frequently.  Want that negative test next week!  Amazon should deliver the tiny oxygen meter that will tell me the amount of oxygen getting into my lungs.  This the most important information with regard to recovery.  So far, so good.   

8 August 2021

I deleted the 8/2 post.  What was I thinking?  On my way out of town, I became ill and haven’t shaken it nine days later.  Now I know why – I am COVID positive.  Just got the test results back this morning.  So this is what COVID feels like – a rotten cold.    Feeling lousy doesn’t mix well with wordsmithing. 

Friday was my first COVID test and my first televised doctor’s appointment.  Learn something new every day.  Dr. Lin prescribed meds (which I am taking) and asked me to call him again Monday once I had the test results for more instructions.  First on tomorrow’s agenda.   Meds are helping, but I can still feel the effects of COVID.  I would not be surprised if he doesn’t renew the prescriptions.  

What did I learn from my recent visits up north?  I learned that I am a long-distance grandmother who barely knows her grandchildren.  I don’t know them and they don’t know me.  No matter how I wish it otherwise, this is the plain truth.  Unless I move near them, the status quo will not change.  

These past several weeks have been marked with a series of “good byes”.   Good bye to Steve – thanks for many wonderful years together and three great sons;  Cousin Jim, a dear man and my favorite cousin; and now to Joi Anne, my good friend, who always put a glow on life.  Life is short.  Too short for recriminations and regrets.  I removed the rings I’ve worn for years – symbols of former promises to persons now all gone.  They are off and I am free.  

27 July 2021

I have been AWOL – off the air – incommunicado – radio silence – for the past several weeks.  There is a good reason for it:  someone close to me died from a recently diagnosed terminal illness.  Although death was not immediate, the speed with which the tumor overtook him was stunning to all of us.  So I made the long drive (775 miles each way) twice in 10 days.  Thank heavens for audible books.  They saved me. 

While there, I made sure to tell him my feelings.  He shared his too.  It was good.  

Those trips and ensuing weeks have been burdensome.  Not depressed exactly, but a feeling of being unfettered. like a sail luffing in the wind.  No regrets on a decision made many years ago, but a feeling nonetheless of extreme, lingering loss.  I’ve spent many hours since trying to figure out exactly why.  As I said in “At Wit’s End”, choices carry risk and consequences, some of which might not be felt until years later.  Like now.   I think my feeling of loss is that, in the end, I was not even footnoted in the obituary.  It’s as though my participation was invisible.  My choice, my burden to carry or release.   I know how I feel and suppose it shouldn’t need to be put in writing. 

21 June 2021

Longest Day of the year!

7 June 2021

At this year’s AWARE Affair, I bought a Varidesk which enables me to write sitting down or standing up.  Today’s entry is a “standing blog”.  

Skippy, the curmudgeon terrier, went to the vet this morning for his check-up and shots.  All is well.  He is enjoying a well-deserved nap now.  Skippy will celebrate his 14th birthday on Thursday so it’s party-time all week.  

Texas has been unseasonably cool all Spring – a pattern that is supposed to continue into July.  We have had off & on rain for weeks – a pattern that shows no sign of ending.  The grass is really green and flowers blooming nicely.  I haven’t had to water my outdoor plants in weeks.  Mother nature has taken care of this for me.   Very strange weather pattern – while it’s 70-80 degrees here in June, it’s 106 degrees in Bismarck, North Dakota!   Meanwhile, we still have a lot of dead foliage from the February 14th freeze that serves as a reminder of how strange the weather has been. 

The flurry of nonprofit activity in April and May has subsided.  I am retreating from this work by the end of 2021.  By then, I will roll off two boards due to term limit requirements.  My tenure as AWARE President ended on May 31st.  I do plan to pursue becoming a Texas Master Gardener if I can complete the course work and volunteer hours by next Spring.  The next part of my life is coming into focus now.  It will involve a lot of reading and writing, hopefully a Master’s Degree, and probably moving back east in 2022.  Maybe.  Still adjusting the lens.  

1 April 2021

I am reading Benjamin Friedman’s book on Religion and Capitalism.  At this point in the book, having connected the history of religious beliefs leading up to Adam Smith’s book “The Wealth of Nations”, we have now crossed the pond to the colonies.  It’s a work in progress.  

“The Wealth of Nations” marked the beginning of economics as a science unto itself and the birth of “capitalism” as an economic theory.   One must remember that when Adam Smith wrote this book, he was “professor of moral philosophy”, linking religious beliefs to economics from the start. 

Having come from the Northeast and lived for years in difference parts of the U.S., I have long observed how religious beliefs differ place to place and impact regional views of the economy and the law, in spite of the stated “separation between church and state”.   Mr. Friedman’s book addresses this question.  I am only halfway finished and have some questions about the “enlightened” beliefs present at the time of our country’s founding. 

By the time the Declaration of Independence and Constitution were written, Calvinist views were debunked.  No longer was man born depraved and not in control of receiving God’s grace.  Calvinists believed that before one was born, one’s fate upon death was decided.  Predestination says man has no control, no agency, no matter how righteous his life has been lived.  Newton’s “Principia Mathmatica” was consequential in changing this religious thinking because now there were physical laws that explained what were previously considered “God’s mysteries”.   Renaissance ideas led to enlightened thinking that was optimistic – man was in control of his life and his relationship with God became personal.  Man was born with the ability to “reason” and that ability would naturally lead to a moral life and the pursuit of happiness.  Hence, “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” in our founding documents. 

What I have not read – yet – is how this religious philosophy  – which is supposed to apply to all men – squares with  our treatment of Native Americans and slaves.  It seems to me that this moralism still implies that there is an elite class who is more capable of reason and more moral than others.  The bedrock philosophy speaks to accepting diversity, but in practice it did not.  The Founding Fathers lost sleep over this disparity, especially as it related to slavery.  The only solution, as they saw it, was to remove the black population to someplace else, as they ultimately did with Native Americans.  Even with limited assimilation, there was still an attitude of “otherness” toward these groups.  

The Trail of Tears was supposed to end this, but it did not.  The Civil War was supposed to end this, but it did not.  The immigrant issues at the Mexican border today fall into the same basket.  These people are “other” and don’t fit the moral vision of our country’s founding which is capitalistic and white.  Some far right elements even classify all Asians as “other”.  Within not very many years, white people will be in the minority of U.S. citizens.  So, elements within our society continue to push white supremacy and to codify it by suppressing voting rights.    

Prominent in today’s news is the trial of Derek Chauvin for the murder of George Floyd.  I believe the outcome of this trial will be a turning point in race relations.  Not that George Floyd was some kind of saint – he wasn’t – he was just a Black guy trying to make his way and sometimes illegally.  But he died unnecessarily by suffocation under the knee of a policemen.   I wonder, if the faces were reversed (white victim, black police officer), would the trial publicity and outcome be the same?  

I have often wondered why my Black friends always seem to congregate within a larger group.  It has become increasingly clear to me why they do this.  Further, it has become increasingly clear to me the ways in which Blacks and Native Americans have been marginalized since our founding.  This inherent distrust is what has caused my Black friends to cling together, as if there is safety in numbers.  They share the “Black Experience” which is separate from White Society in which they must live.  In order to be successful in the White world, they have to be able to transverse the two, as if putting on a mask when crossing from Black to White.   Finally, at age 73, I get it.  If it took me that long to understand, I have to feel that there are multitudes of others who are experiencing the George Floyd protests and trial with similar eyes.  It’s time to connect these disparate worlds and discard the “other”.  

4 March 2021

If my mother was still living, today would be her 99th birthday.  March 4th is always a special day.  

I must be losing it:  I have a perpetual calendar whose pages are changed monthly in an 11″ X 14″ frame.  When I went to load March, I noticed that February was completely missed!  January was staring me in the face as I pulled the March sheet out of the file.  Oh dear – in all the years of maintaining this Ling calendar, this is the first time I skipped a month!  

The Johnson & Johnson vaccine has been approved by the FDA for emergency use.  What I learned later is that this vaccine was developed using stem cells from aborted fetuses.  There are many who will resist using it for this reason.   The Roman Catholics are mixed in their response:  some merely issued an advisory, others said absolutely not to take this vaccine.  Me?  I’m confused because I thought that research was confined to grandfathered stem cell lines and was not permitted to utilize new ones.  I guess that rule was changed at some point.  

On Sunday 2/28, my Outlook account was hacked by Nigerians (my tech confirmed this).  Completely my fault – I responded to a phishing email that I should not have answered.  I got a lot of calls from old friends who received requests for money from these hackers.  I did everything I could think of to let people know to not respond.  The challenge is that all my Outlook contacts disappeared so I didn’t know to whom to reach out.  Fortunately, the password was unique to that account and I had not updated Outlook contacts for a long time, opting to use Gmail instead.   Still, it’s very oppressive and nerve-racking.  

The cold has subsided and left the Texas power grid in shambles.  Over thirty water systems are still compromised and residents either have no potable water or none at all.   Dallas luckily is in pretty good shape.  It’s the rural and southern water systems that were especially hard hit.  In north Texas, we get cold weather from time to time, but it doesn’t go as far south as this Arctic front did and linger for days.  Much of the vegetable crop was wiped out so grocery prices for fresh produce will be sky-high.  Very little can be locally sourced.  This week’s weather is more seasonal and very refreshing.  Even Skippy notices!  

28 February 2021

After a week of OMG winter, we’ve had a moderate early-Spring week of a little sunshine and a little rain.  The greenery was fooled by the temperate winter up until Valentine’s day and all of it looks stressed by the extreme Arctic cold we experienced.  The common area gardens will need a lot of work in the coming weeks.  

I ordered a book today by Benjamin Friedman on “Religion and the Rise of Capitalism”.  This is a subject that has long interested me for its impact on  American culture.  From the beginning, Americans imported a combination of Puritanism and capitalism from England, and have woven it into pioneer life as we moved westward.  I say “Puritanism” because capitalism was at its strongest in the northern colonies where natural resource development and trade were most prominent.  It’s effect did not escape the southern colonies, but they were more rural and agriculturally-based. 

Amazon Prime is the McDonalds of retail delivery – it’ll be here by the end of the day.   I wonder when these deliveries will arrive by drone?  

16 February 2021

Today is Day 3 of the Deep Freeze in Camp Dallaska.  Outside, the temperature has plummeted to near zero.  Incredibly, my little corner of the world has not experienced the rolling blackouts that others in Texas have suffered.  My good friend Cheryl spent the night with me last night – on top of extensive rolling blackouts, she lives in a house whose rooms all have at least two exterior walls (making them colder), and her furnace won’t start when the power turns on.  Moreover, her disposal is backed up.  So she made sure the pets were safe and spent the night at my place.  Maybe she will be here tonight too. ” Just bring milk with you.  I used up the last of it yesterday and have no creamer for your coffee!”

The cold is expected to stick around until the weekend.  In the meantime, we have an ice storm headed our way.  As if the Dallas streets weren’t treacherous enough with the ice we already have, more is coming.  The only good is that snow and ice offer some protection to the plants underneath. 

We will all be happy to see the thermometer rise above 30 degrees so the roads will open up.  My larder will be empty by the time this happens.  Question: will the reinforcement supply trucks get here in the meantime?    

15 February 2021

President’s Day – the coldest on record for Texas.  Dallas had 3-4 more inches of snow last night accompanied by Artic temperatures (9 degrees!)  Today there are several residents without power or in the throes of “rolling power outages”.  I am making a point of keeping power usage to a minimum and layering my clothing.  

Me?  I am enjoying the snow immensely.  It’s quiet outside and inside, muffled by the snowy blanket.  My feet crackle as I step into the new snow.  Poor Skippy doesn’t mind the cold, but doesn’t know what to do with his feet.  Snow covers all his “familiar places”.    As a Yankee in Texas, I am reminded of my home state – Connecticut – and many snowy years in Indiana.  No sled needed:  we just cut up a corrugated box and slid down the hills on that.  Works well!  Hot chocolate afterwards while I put the wet coats in the dryer.  Brings back some lovely memories.  

.2 January 2021

I finished Timothy Snyder’s book “The Road to Unfreedom”, and now have a much better understanding of where all this political unrest came from.  The best part is that I see a clear difference between the Trump supporters who back his policies and those who are purely wackadoodle like the QAnon group.  Two of my sons fall into the former category.  I had a great conversation with Gus this morning about this.  Emotion has been set aside and we met halfway.  All good.  Democracy wins.  The pervasive silence of good governance is so welcome.  

This has been such a quiet week.  I’ve caught up with a lot of chores that were way down the list.  The sewing machine emerged for the first time in months – so long, in fact, that I had to reread the instructions to make sure the threading was correct.  My little Janome worked like a champ.  Now, to plant the small tree in front of the fence, bathe the dog and take the coverlet to the laudromat.  Another day.  Tax prep looms, too. 

17 January 2021

Lovely day outside.  So typical of Texas winters, we got 20 minutes of snow last weekend, cold and windy weather all week, then a perfectly beautiful Sunday.  The weather is more cyclical than a 6 Flags roller coaster.  Good day for a long walk – and so Skippy and I did just that.  

I met a new neighbor today.  Anna is very sweet.  Her daughter Nicole adds yet another youngster to the neighborhood which makes me very happy.  (We need fewer old people!)  It’s nice to hear her enthusiasm for making changes to her home.  Having lived in rentals for many years, Anna is excited about making changes she was unable to do before.  So fun to hear Anna’s excitement.  

I lost a bit of diet ground over Christmas (2 pounds only) and am back in the saddle again.  My aim is to shed the rest of the weight by the end of May which is where I started this journey.  Maybe.  Might take a bit longer.  More long walks.  

2 January 2021

Happy New Year!  With normal “Happy New Year” wishes, there is a joy in planning for specific improvements we would like to make over the next 12 months.  This “Happy New Year” is marked by 300,000 dead by COVID and a year of disaster recovery.  2021 will be a long year marked by slow progress.  

On my list of things to do this year:  1) lose the rest of the weight (I’m halfway to goal), 2) complete Susan’s Christmas stocking, 3) design and complete Moie’s sampler, 4) buy a new computer, 5) redo the downstairs flooring in my townhouse, 6) read “Lonesome Dove”.   There are several lesser things on the list and some to be added along the way.  A list of 6 major goals is about right.  By the end of 2021, I expect to be ready for the next phase of my life – lighter and less encumbered by time commitments.  

I feel pretty good about some of my 2020 goals.  Much of the Ancestry data has been added.  More to come this year as I have time.  I reached my weight loss goal (halfway to the ultimate goal) while establishing the long term habits to maintain a lower weight.  After so many false starts, I consider the latter lesson to be the most important.  I have added Skippy to my life which is a joy.   I am knee deep in non=profit work which will carry over into 2021 (when it will end abruptly).   I didn’t get all the ‘goal” reading done, but read a lot of other interesting books – 50 in all.  Best year ever.  

The most revealing “aha” moment occurred just a few days ago.  I have often pondered on “life transitions”, for myself and with regard to my  relationship to my children and grandchildren.  There was no advance warning on these topics, as both my parents died many years ago and relationships with my brothers grow thinner by the year.  So, each discovery is a surprise. 

There is the “empty nest” period (when children first leave the house), then the “beyond the empty nest” period (when children are no longer on your payroll at all),  and two days ago I learned there is a third period, when children lead such separate lives from yours that the connective tissue becomes frayed.  I don’t know what to call this period yet.  

After enjoying a wonderful week in Philadelphia with youngest son and family, I was confronted with my middle son’s accusations that somehow I was “against” his conservative lifestyle.  At the end of an hour-long conversation, back & forth,  his obvious right-wing news-source views and my established journalistic practices news source views, he actually accused me of disparaging his conservative life choices.  (He lives a comfortable middle-class life in extreme suburban Missouri with children all in Catholic schools and several guns in a safe).  It occurred to me later  that he is buying into this binary philosophy as espoused by our current president – “either you’re for me or against me”.  I was accused of so disliking Trump that the evil Democrats (me included) are willing to drag our democracy into chaos to get rid of him.  As if the president has not already himself created the chaos  and continues to do it.  All this to say that it appears  my son sees this struggle in black and white terms, and that political views  override whatever connective tissue we have as parent and child.   There is a barrier between us now that I’m not sure what to do with.  

One fact is clear.  I am a Yankee who has lived in several parts of the country.  I take a piece of them with me always, appreciating the differences between them. This includes the very conservative Midwest (20 years).  I ask myself, “how is this really different from the ivory tower my parents created for my brothers and me after WW2?”  The truth is, it’s not at all different.  They chose our Connecticut upbringing because it allowed my father to pursue his work while placing the family in a safe environment.  My son is doing the same in a different part of the country.  And so it goes.  

18 December 2020

Skippy is fast asleep as I type this.  Preparations are underway for my trip to Philadelphia.  Cannot wait to see Joe, Annie and Grace, plus the pet menagerie.  Precautions are set for the trip, chores getting done and bag-packing in progress.  

This morning I took a couple of hours to watch “Meru” – a mountain-climbing film.  Having watched “Free Solo” before, I have become fascinated by these climbers.  They live such a vagabond life to achieve those peaks.   I still have my Life Magazine issue from Scott Fischer’s 1996 Everest Expedition, and have read all of Jon Krakauer’s books.  “Meru” is beautifully filmed and edited.  So admire Jimmy Chin, Renan Ozturk and Conrad Anker for sharing this experience.  

6 December 2020

I have a “sorting” disorder.  Like my father, I would rather just put a piece of paper on a stack (to be read later) rather than have to review it and decide where its last resting place will be.   Every now and then, I feel like I’m drowning in paper and address the random stacks around my office.  Today I refiled a lot of stuff; tossed a lot; shredded a lot, and am only now surfacing for air.   It really feels good to do this.   Like shedding 53 pounds (so far). 

The trip to St. Louis was cancelled due to COVID concerns, but I will brave the airport over Christmas to go to Philadelphia.  Fewer people on the visiting end this trip.  Besides a social visit, I plan to look around for “next steps”.  After so many years living in the south, the west and the mid-west, I am strongly considering going back to my Yankee roots.  Joe and Annie will show me around Philadelphia, western New Jersey and Bucks County.   We’ll see what we see.  It’ll be a year before I start to seriously consider a move anyway.  Too many commitments here.  

24 November 2020

My oldest granddaughter is 14 today.  Happy Birthday, Shana!  

Very quiet this weekend.  I cancelled my trip to St. Louis in view of the rising COVID cases in their county.  Having watched the news last night, it’s probably good that I did.  So many people have been cooped up for months and are bursting to get out of their homes.  The airports are packed with people.  Most are wearing masks, but still, the risk is there with such proximity.  The news last night reported that several states are out of hospital beds for COVID or any other seriously ill patient.  I hope no one has to go to the emergency room for any reason right now.  

I am using the time to go through a lot of stuff and do a few things that are fun.  Drawers need culling, piles need tossing and filing needs – well – filing.  There is a trail in the western part of the city that is waiting for me to explore.  Although we’ve had a very dry November and could use the rain, I wish that the clear weather will hold out long enough for me to walk this trail.  

I am rereading Sinclair Lewis’ “Main Street”.  If I were to emulate a fiction writer, Lewis would be the one.  His picture of small-town life is so reminiscent of my move to Newburgh in 1972.   The underlying politics are the same and transfer to the present day:  i.e. prairie conservatism vs. populism – those who like things the way they are and those who see a huge gap in the wealth of this nation.   Sarah Smarsh describes it well in “Heartland”.   The Haves define the American Dream as pulling oneself up by their bootstraps.  The Have Nots cannot even afford the boot straps.   Sarah Smarsh said the gap widened greatly during Ronald Reagan’s term in office and is worse now.   President Trump would take it all if he could get away with it.   And so it goes.  The dual concepts of the American Dream, brought to you courtesy of capitalism mixed with religion, enshrined in a vague document.  

15 November 2020

I counted up the number of books I’ve read this year:  41 so far!

Today I put up the outside Christmas lights.  The political discourse is so negative these days, I decided to put the lights up early.  Hopefully, it will raise everyone’s spirits.  

18 October 2020

We are learning to live with COVID.  I wear a mask in all public places, including yesterday’s Bluegrass Festival, even socially distanced, but do not with close friends with whom I visit occasionally.   Most of them stay at home like I do.  Way fewer meetings, clustered errands, and fewer social get-togethers.  “Cards” was held at my place on Monday 10/5 without masks.  We were glad to see each other again!  

I do worry about my grandchildren who will not know the world without masks.  

I am trying to make arrangements for Skippy during the holidays so I can visit with my children and grandchildren.  It’s a problem with this dog because of his separation anxiety.  Additionally, he doesn’t get along with all other dogs.  I’ve decided that Skippy is a curmudgeon among canines. 

Birthday week was a disaster diet-wise, but last Wednesday I crossed a significant threshold.  I am halfway to my original goal now!  After almost 5 months, I am down 43 pounds.   Belts definitely have to be tightened.  Some clothes simply don’t fit anymore.  Other clothing that I hung on to now fits.  Soon I will need to purchase some new clothes – especially pants.  It is nice to know that the yo-yo is gone for good.  I will never gain this weight back.  Ever.  

30 September 2020

Happy Birthday to me!  The Triple Witching Hour!  Another trip around the sun.  Just another balmy day in Dallas.  

The hard thing about birthdays is that everyone calls you on your birthday.  I’ve had so many voicemails and texts and emails and Facebook messages … it’s hard to do anything that I enjoy doing.  Certainly, spending hours on the phone and managing social media aren’t my favorite ways to spend time. So, I have 364 other days to do stuff I like to do and will reconnect with relatives and old friends.  

26 September 2020

A lovely September day.  What am I doing?  Painting walls inside!  I am expecting 7 dinner guests a week from Monday so the painting could not be put off any longer.  I have to allow a week or so to chase the paint odorl out.  

The process of rolling and brushing was impeded by a small dog that wanted to be exactly where I was at all times.  Skippy stood at the foot of the ladder as I was trying to step to the carpet, was in the way anytime I wanted to move the ladder to another location, and crossed in front of me as I carried the (very full) rolling pan to fasten to the ladder.  God love this dog, but is insistence on being close at me has its moments.  

The paint job looks beautiful.  Now that the furniture is back in its usual place, Skippy is much less confused.  He is a creature of habit and does not like things out of place.  

23 September 2020

Where does the time go?  July and August pass with time to spare.  All of a sudden, it’s September and we are moving at the speed of light.  In part, it is the presidential election cycle which is heating up by the hour.  For the most part, however, it’s like those cooped-up cows trying to leave the barn in Spring:  all 20 of them try to squeeze through the barn door at once.  So many decisions to make and writing to do – all due at the same time.  So much responsibility.  Hey, friends – I’m working as fast as I can!   

9 September 2020

Yesterday and today I am observing the anniversary of the Galveston Hurricane, the storm that turned this city into a resort town and Houston into the city it is today.  9/8 & 9/9/1900, a Category 4 hurricane hit this barrier island head on, complete with a 12-15 foot storm surge that completely covered it.  Estimated loss of life ranges from 6,000 to 12,000 – sketchy numbers because Galveston was a busy shipping port and sizable numbers of people came and went daily.  Most of the island’s buildings were destroyed or washed out to sea; no building escaped some damage.  Today, there are events on The Strand on the extreme northeast corner of Galveston – the only part of the island to escape serious damage. 

At the time of the storm, there was no sea wall, the highest elevation was maybe 6 feet above sea level, mostly wooden buildings with slate roofs (to reduce fires), weather-forecasting in its infancy, no warning of the impending storm, and Gilded Age scientific hubris that firmly stated “a hurricane will never hit here”.   No one evacuated and residents thought their homes were safe from wind and tide.  In short, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.  

And so, this hurricane still stands in the U.S. annals as the worst natural disaster ever experienced. 

Today, there are two tropical depressions forming in the Atlantic.  The fact that we are barely half-way through hurricane season and these storms are already at “P” and “R” (why no “Q” for “Quentin”? or “Quinn”? or “Queenie”?), is remarkable in itself.  This has been an especially active storm season.  

2 September 2020

Funny how a light comes on suddenly that solves a question rolling around in your head for a long, long time.  

For months I’ve been reading several texts about the Depression and Dust Bowl years.   These workers and farmers were such hardy people and endured such hardship during this ten-year-long period.  I was struck by how much they valued working.  Perhaps it’s because jobs were scarce and farming was so hard in the face of drought.  I sense that it was more to them than just a job – working gave these folks a sense of dignity.  It was extremely important that they be self-sufficient in their work and did not take “hand outs” or “relief” from the government.   In the process, they learned to get along on very little while maintaining their sense of dignity. 

Somewhere, somehow this cultural sense of dignity and value of work has left us.   At some point, relief became okay as a solution to any upheaval in our lives.  No job? there’s unemployment.  No way to take care of Grandma? there’s Medicaid.  No health insurance?  Also, Medicaid.  There are safety nets everywhere that supply free electricity, gas cards, rental assistance, etc. etc.  These sorts of things used to be supplied by the local community, churches and family members.   Now it’s the federal and local governments that supply these things, along with lots of nonprofits.  

In the process, that culture of “dignity in working” became just a job, and not necessarily one that will support a family.  Jobs are simply what you do by day to get money – they seem to no longer be tied to our sense of self-worth.  

When did our culture change and how? 

Some contributing context:

  • WWII – the great diaspora that followed, development of suburbs which emptied towns and cities
  • shift from manufacturing economy to service economy
  • service economy opened many areas for women to enter the workforce
  • move from communal living (roommates) to solo lifestyle
  • franchise development enabled non-experts to become business owners
  • McDonald’s leads the way with “instant gratification” and inexpensive food for the masses
  • 1960 election of JFK, followed by Lyndon Johnson, where the New Frontier became the Great Society 
  • turbulence of the late 1960’s and early 70’s – shift to “if it feels good, do it”
  • Black civil rights struggle progresses from NAACP to non-violent protests to Black Power, and then subsides
  • George Wallace, the Southern Strategy and integration struggle
  • Vietnam War – WWII respect for the military disintegrates
  • Richard Nixon and Watergate shift public attitude of benevolent government to distrust of government; the beginning of political polarization
  • NAFTA

Somewhere in that 80 year period, a great culture shift took place.  The turning point was Johnson’s Great Society, when the government got into the “social engineering” business.  The Great Society, whose intent was to eliminate poverty and racial injustice, was comprised of several pieces of legislation:  Medicare, the Civil Rights Act, the Voting Rights Act, VISTA, Head Start, Food Stamps, Community Action Programs, National Endowment of the Arts and National Endowment of the Humanities, Public Broadcasting System, Urban Mass Transportation Act, many safety acts, Fair Housing Act (part of the Civil Rights Act), etc.  Social Security was also expanded under Richard Nixon.  “Affirmative Action” was born as an Executive Order during JFK’s presidency, and has been legislatively expanded to include more groups.  It was a remarkably successful legislative achievement within a 10 year period.  Government grew in size.  

Until the 1960’s, there was only Social Security as a safety net for the elderly.  The Great Society greatly expanded this “safety net” and the government’s role in our lives.  It was at this juncture that the public’s eyes turned to Washington D.C. for solutions to problems.  In so doing, along with other changes, the value of work and self-reliance were lost.  Instead of working disagreements out with the other party, we began to look to the government as the arbiter.  

The light went on in my head when I realized that all these changes in the 1960’s produced a seismic cultural shift.  This 10 year period was the nexus of this change.  We gained more government programs that certainly benefit more people, but we lost the resiliency that comes from having to make it on our own.  We have gained more independence as societal members, but we are less of an established community.   As with all transitions, there is a trade-off somewhere:  you get something, but have to give something up in the process.  

What I gained today is the insight about where the cultural shift took place.  Not everything fits into a category or a tidy story with a beginning and firm ending.  Life goes on and is always changing.  It’s finding the meaning in the turning points that matters in gaining wisdom.  

30 August 2020

I read an analysis of Jerry Falwell, Jr.’s resignation as President of Liberty University this morning, and was taken aback by his statements.  (Falwell posted a sexually explicit photo on Facebook which has led to a groundswell of criticism over his tenure as President).  Falwell said that his focus as President was centered on building the endowment for Liberty University.  To be sure, this is a huge part of a  college president’s job.  Liberty University is an Evangelical Christian University which by definition should  represent and promote Christian values, morals and behavior.  As president, Jerry Falwell, Jr. said that he placed less emphasis on the values than on the endowment.  What I don’t understand is why he or anyone else would consider these as mutually exclusive – and “either – or” scenario – or even two facets of a job that couldn’t (or wouldn’t) coexist.  Falwell clearly stated that the endowment was more important to him.  

People in high positions need to have the flexibility to have a private life apart from their public persona.  This private life should be – well, private – and not for public display.  It bothers me a lot that Jerry Falwell, Jr. inherited a great tradition from his father, a university based on Christian values, that his entitled, coddled son has managed to insult with his personal behavior.  And, in this interview, Falwell managed to excuse his behavior by saying the endowment was the critical part of his job.  

The subject of entitled Baby Boomers is one that I see writ large in our society.  So many men and women endured incredible hardship – the Depression, the Dust Bowl and then World War II to build a nice life for their families.  The ’50’s were serene with Eisenhower as president.  1960 brought us JFK, assassinations and social turbulence.   The last Boomers were born just as President Johnson was signing into law the Voting Rights Act and the Civil Rights Act – turning points, for sure.  

Early Boomers, born immediately after WWII, were coming of age when the ’60’s unrest was unfolding and entered the workforce as Richard Nixon resigned from office.  From there, it is was a short 5 year recession to Ronald Reagan who brought “Morning in America” and made accumulating money the greatest goal of all.  And so began the political polarization we witness today.  Before Reagan, Republicans and Democrats actually made deals across the aisle.  Imagine that. 

It’s not that our World War II fathers and mothers were poor parents – they only wanted the best for their children.  In the process of creating an affluent and relatively trouble-free upbringing, a generation of entitled children arose who thought “this is easy! I don’t have to work very hard or sacrifice to get ahead!” We took our good life for granted.  Along the way, the Boomer generation became deaf and blind to the need to be involved in the political process.  Heck – the good life will always be there.  And so Boomers became flippant about the values that provided the bedrock for the life they have taken for granted.   Somewhere along the way, pursuit of money took its place.  

Perhaps this is a self-serving soap box.  I don’t think I’m wrong.  I’ve seen too many of the Boomer generation grow up “entitled”, especially by inherited wealth.  I’ve seen too many of the Boomer generation make a fortune in the ’80’s and ’90’s, and then exit the stage of sharing space with the common man.  They have a lot of money, confine their lives to wealthy friends. and make their own rules of conduct in a rarified atmosphere.   

Jerry Falwell, Jr. may be a really nice guy, but he inherited a pretty plush legacy from his father.  Somehow he forgot about how Liberty came to be.  But don’t feel sorry for Jerry, Jr.:  he’s not leaving the rich set any time soon.  I understand his severance exceeds 10 million dollars.  He must have done a bang-up job on the endowment fund.  

23 August 2020

Skippy, the dog I recently adopted, has changed my schedule greatly.  Besides the OPTAVIA diet, I now have to schedule several walks each day.  The timing of each often does not match, but I make it work anyway.  Skippy, in his own way, is helping me lose 2 pounds per week since he arrived.  It wasn’t why I decided to adopt a dog, but is certainly a bonus.  

I have been reading a lot, trying to understand the “1619” movement versus the “1776” movement, the writings of James Baldwin, and the state of the Black Lives Matter movement versus the Black Power Movement of the 1960’s and 1970’s.   It’s a lot to absorb.  I read Eddie Glaude’s “Begin Again”  and now better understand James Baldwin’s viewpoint and moral underpinning.  I think he would meet both Nikole Hannah-Jones and Robert Woodson in the middle somewhere – it is true that Blacks must improve themselves from the community ground up, but it is also true that it’s hard to pull oneself up by the bootstraps when there are no bootstraps to start with and the legal system is stacked against you. 

What is essentially missing is the gift of human dignity, not the dollars.  If we frame racial equality only in terms of money (programs or “reparations”), it will never succeed.  The government cannot legislate a program or payment for disadvantaged communities and then say they’re done because it is simply a monetary exchange – viz. buying the problem off.  It comes without the recognition that “all men are created equal”.  Before any meaningful change can be accomplished, this recognition must take place.  It is the hardest of all to do because for white America, it involves a sense of loss of power, and an acceptance of fellow humans that many are not prepared to make.   Hopefully, this ‘meeting in the middle’ can be done without violent clashes.  

15 August 2020

Happy Birthday , Dad!  He would have turned 107 today.  Gone, but not forgotten.  I wonder what he would say about our current political situation?  

7 August 2020

In earlier writing, I’ve explored thoughts on racial matters.  More on this now.  

I am reading Eddie S. Glaude, Jr.’s “Begin Again”, a book that explores James Baldwin’s writing in the context of current events.   At its heart, the “American Dream” is a lie:  the statement that “all men are created equal” is not, in fact, true.  The “American Dream” is based on the supremacy of Whites.  There is no ‘sharing’ – no ‘melting pot’ (that absorbed Italians, Sicilians, Portuguese who were not considered ‘white’ when they arrived on our shores).   Blacks, Browns, Far Eastern natives are seen as lesser entities here today, both in color, but also culture.  Muslims are in a separate group: they are “apart” for cultural reasons, but also due to the  religion’s historical attachment to 9/11.  America is, after all, a Christian nation.  

Even Native Americans are treated as a permanent underclass.  Andrew Jackson mobilized the Trail of Tears because he determined that the white and Cherokee cultures could not exist side-by-side.  Reservations were seen as a way to keep the cultures separate.  At the time, Congressmen justified this by saying reservations “protected” native Americans from whites  when the truth was really that white people wanted Cherokee land.  (Cherokees are originally from the Carolinas and Georgia, not Oklahoma!) 

Even Thomas Jefferson, keenly aware of the paradox of the phrase “all men are created equal”,  proposed that, if slaves were freed, they should be moved to an unsettled area on the other side of the Appalachian Mountains.  It wouldn’t do for Whites and Blacks to co-exist.  Somehow, Blacks were not the same level of human as Whites, similar to Native Americans.  

At the time of the “reservation” concept, there was more than enough land to go around.   In the present racial unrest context, there is a feeling of scarcity that did not exist before.  There was a feeling of boundless natural resources and space.  Now there is not.  We live closer together than ever.  Hence, there would be cultural mixing rather than separation which means sharing.  It’s “us” versus “them”.  

When the Declaration of Independence was written, the phrase “all men are created equal” was theoretical, as from ancient texts.  It’s how it should be.  I don’t think any of the Founding Fathers, in the Declaration or the Constitution, conceived of colonial management as anything other than a White-managed Christian enterprise.   “All men are created equal” didn’t mean the same as our current context.  Certainly, it did not allow for slaves to become full citizens and for the masses to vote.  More educated heads should prevail so they invented the Electoral College as a fail-safe against masses controlling the levers of government.  Even Senators were appointed by state governments in the Constitution.  The Founding Fathers believed that the educated elite should run the government.  This concept was not inclusive:  it was White and Christian.  It was based on the British model.  In their defense, I don’t believe the Founders ever conceived that this situation would be different in the future.  It was the logical order of things and how it ‘should be’.    

Without overtly stating these attitudes,  history has come down to us as such.  The winners get to write the history books.  This, in itself, maintains the myth of white supremacy and keeps the “others” out of power.   I think the notion that this is a White Christian country explains why there was such a backlash against Barack Obama and why “Make America Great Again” is akin to waving the Confederate battle flag.   Our current president has driven a wedge between the traditionalists and the “inclusives”.   

I am White and grew up within the context of these historical principles.  I see now why the racial rift we face today is so seismic.  It has been an undercurrent  since the beginning of the Republic – and even before if you count slavery here since 1619.   “All men are created equal” is still an aspiration, but no where near a reality.  Like Eddie S. Glaude, Jr. says, we need to “Begin Again” and figure out how to move forward.    

5 August 2020

Today is my oldest son’s birthday.  I am so proud of the man he has become.  Besides a card and a post on Facebook, I called him to wish him a great day.  He was having lunch with his Dad.  It warms my heart to know that Gus lives close to his father and can spend time with him.  We’ll talk later.  Gus knows how I feel.  Love him beyond words.  He is my first-born and my heart.  

I don’t want to give short shrift to my youngest son, Joe, whose birthday was Monday, August 3rd.  Joe has also grown into an extraordinary man.  Very different from his brothers, Joe is my political and literary soul mate.   He’s also my Yankee son (we traded places:  I am a Yankee by birth and moved away whereas Joe moved to Yankee-land from other parts of the country).   It’s not surprising that this is where I will wind up some day.  I can smell the salt water already!

So, this celebration is for both of these fine men.  They are both devoted husbands and fathers, can manage a household on their own, and work very hard at their chosen professions.  Proud of them both.   

29 July 2020 

Skippy and I are reaching silent agreements.  There is little training possible for a 13 year old dog, but I can learn his cycles and he can adapt to mine.  Today Skippy descended the stairway; he still has issues climbing the wooden stairs.  His success descending is because he lands on each step on the balls of his feet.  Climbing has more to do with nails and “purchase” which is harder.  Will have to find some rubber grips for the 7 steps.  

Separation anxiety is still there, but getting better.  I doubt it will ever go away entirely.  

Yesterday I posted on Facebook a “Far Side”-like cartoon comparing 2020 to a truck selling nothing but liver and onions.  Some replies were from friends who absolutely LOVE liver and onions and others who, like me, hate this dish.  It made me ponder how different people’s taste buds are (true differences in taste – not cultural choices).  Over a lifetime, I have learned to eat almost anything – even those items that I refused to eat as a child.  I still cannot eat liver and onions – even poorly cooked chicken tastes like liver to me.  No pate or braunschweiger either.  Brussel sprouts, cauliflower, mushrooms and eggplant – not my favorite dishes, but I will eat them if served.  Escargot reminds me of chicken gizzards (may taste okay, but not worth the effort).   As a child, these were no-go foods.  It is interesting to me that my older brother will eat liver and I will not.  Supposedly we are from the same gene pool.  Liver, among other things (e.g. politics), makes me wonder sometimes if we really are from the same parents. 

Another tropical storm is brewing in the Caribbean and headed directly for Florida.  Note that it is not even the end of July and we’ve already had several named storms.   This one is already on the letter “I”.  It could go to Florida’s east coast or west coast – either way, the Keys will be drenched and Miami is right in the center.  Hopefully, this storm will not reach a truly dangerous hurricane level.  Memory tells me that the worst storms arise in late August through very early October.  Labor Day is dead center.  That’s two months away!  

25 July 2020

Another tough sleep night.  Skippy has separation anxiety that I don’t feel he will ever recover from – and it may be getting worse.  So many changes for this dude in the last several months.  Not sure how I will manage it. 

The outer rain bands of Tropical Storm Hanna are giving Dallas a bit of a reprieve from the July heat.  This storm has quickly formed and barreled over the Rio Grande Valley.  The rain will be welcome, but this area is especially hard hit by COVID-19.  If there is flooding, how would people “social distance” in a shelter environment?   It’s a wonder to me that Governor Abbott hasn’t asked the federal government to build some MASH hospitals there.  Sadly, it’s probably because these people are brown.    

22 July 2020

Day three with Skippy, my senior citizen Jack Russell terrier.  He’s doing very well, thank you.  Yesterday he discovered the joys of chasing squirrels up the giant live oaks.  Still, he doesn’t know what to do with the stairway so my office has moved temporarily downstairs to the dining room table where I can share space with him.

The IRS has already deposited my tax return.  Having only filed on July 14th, that’s pretty fast to already receive the money.  It’s a celebration of sorts because it represents the first year I’ve received a cash return in about five years.  Income & expenses have finally equalized, and I am withholding the appropriate amount.

Another 100 degree day with no rain in sight and COVID is everywhere in Texas.  I am grateful for my health and the relatively placid life I lead in the face of this public health crisis.

18 July 2020

Still hot outside so alternate day garden watering is the routine.  Tomorrow will be a big day:  I am adding a dog to the house.  His name is Skippy and he’s a senior citizen like me.  Photo will be uploaded tomorrow. Very excited!  My friend Marianne is also adopting a dog tomorrow so we’ll have the same adoption “anniversary”.  

I’ve been reading a bunch lately.  Finished Mary Trump’s book in one sitting.  It is very well written.  It’s obvious she is a smart and a keen observer.  Now on to reread Wallace Stegner’s “Angle of Repose” for my Book Group.  

The weight plan is continuing successfully.  As of last Wednesday, I’ve lost 17 pounds and 16.5 inches.  I’m counting on Skippy to help me lose some more by making me take more exercise breaks.    

14 July 2020

It’s HOT in Texas!  This is the Texas story – there is always at least one or two stretches in July and August where the temperature goes above 100 degrees for days on end.  The television weather people have it easy:  they can copy and paste the forecast from one day to the next.  Sunny and hot.  No relief in sight.  Thank heavens for air-conditioning.  

COVID is closing in on Texans, as it is in Florida and Arizona and, to a lesser degree, other states.  So many are experiencing hard times.  Eviction notices are up everywhere.  My questions is, who is going to take the place of the evicted renters?  We already have enough homeless and there is such a vacuum in affordable housing.  Where will these people go?    

I heard from a friend in Indiana that she will have difficulty keeping her preschool open if enrollment doesn’t improve.  The PPP money is running out.  How will this be resolved? 

Years ago when there was a gas shortage, I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t have to be concerned about driving anywhere.  I was at home with small children.  Today, I am one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to have a paying job to eat or pay my mortgage.   Color me very grateful for my health and current status.  My heart goes out to those who are caught in the middle of the fallout.  It’s not going to be easy for a long time to come.  

11 July 2020

I watched a special last night about the Confederate monuments that populate the southern states.  The journalist was a young African-American man.  He was joined by a young African-American writer who has written a NY Times article on being descended from both the white “massa” and the female slave he impregnated. 

As I’ve written before, I have both Union and Confederate ancestors.  I am ambivalent about the statues and memorials across the south; it is overkill, for sure, and most should either be moved to a museum site or at least contextualized.  They perpetuate the myth that the Confederate cause was just. 

Listening to these young Black citizens, I was struck by their impatience.  George Floyd happened and all of a sudden these young people want change now – not later – now!  I understand their need to have equal standing – it has been too long coming – but it is not wise to try to move too quickly or I fear the struggle will take a nasty turn.  I want them to keep pushing, keep talking and keep setting an example and advocating for these young Black citizens.  Keep pushing the education issue, the housing issue, the job issue.  I hope these young Blacks realize that many of us old folks are very much on their side and want them to be successful.  Youthful impatience will not get them where they want to go.  This transition is long overdue, but will take time to accomplish.   

4 July 2020

It has been a very quiet 4th of July.  No fireworks were set off locally.  I’m told there was a display in Arlington or Colleyville, but I had no interest in going that far.  These events are expensive for a city to host in a normal year; no doubt COVID-19 added to the expense.  Considering lower tax revenue,  I’m betting that most local city governments decided to just save the money.  

The “white power” rants that are coming out of the President’s mouth lately are gnawing at me.  I am hosting a current events group on Tuesday and will ask them some questions on this topic.  Some background:   

The U.S. was settled by British citizens first – I’m talking about Plymouth, Boston and Jamestown.  Any earlier explorations don’t count because there was no resulting settlement.  New Amsterdam became New York when the British took over; St. Louis was earlier, but the U.S. bought that land.  So, for all intents and purposes, we were settled by the British.  Our laws, our governmental structure, our churches, our original culture was based on British models – perhaps different parts of Britain – but British nevertheless.  This is our basic culture – right down to the language itself – English.  Along for the settlers’ boat ride to the colonies was the English class system.  Americans don’t like to admit this, but it’s true.  In top-down order: ruling elite (sans kings or queens), merchants, laborers, underclass.  Although those groups assigned to the lower class have changed over time, this notion of “who gets to make the rules” has never changed.  The group occupying the underclass tier has changed from time to time.  

The original inhabitants – the “Indians” – had no concept of land ownership.  Many farmed and owned livestock, but they didn’t build fences.  It was not hard for the Dutch to buy Manhattan Island for 60 guilders.  The natives really didn’t understand the process; after the transaction was completed, the native inhabitants didn’t understand why they still couldn’t continue to live on the land they “sold”. 

The colonies were created by private enterprise.  We like to think of the Puritans as holy people seeking religious freedom, for example.  The truth is that they were engaged in building a community that was self-supporting, and would gather raw materials to send back to Britain to be made into finished goods.  The colonies were formed to mine natural resources as a money-making enterprise.  Jamestown was settled to look for gold.  New England was cultivated as a way-station to the Caribbean Islands and for furs and timber.  The natives could either help with this process, make room for the settlers, or get out of the way.     

This misconception over land rights has been the underpinning of every skirmish, treaty, and sorry interaction with Native Americans ever since.  We ask them to step aside; if they don’t, we push them; if we then find a resource we want on the land we told them to settle on, then we ask them to step aside again.  This is the story of Mt. Rushmore once gold was discovered in the Black Hills. 

After attempts to incorporate the Cherokee culture into the “white” culture failed, Andrew Jackson finally concluded that there was no way for Indians and white settlers to live side-by-side.  The cultures were too different.  It was unsafe for the white settlers.  So, the Indians had to step aside – move to reservations in the western territories.  It has long been interesting to me that school children associate the Cherokee with Oklahoma when their original home was the Carolinas, Georgia and Tennessee.  

Enter the slave trade – also the result of private enterprise.  The southern states had large farming tracts and discovered that cotton was an enormous cash crop.  Look around and you could not find enough laborers to work the fields – so the slave trade blossomed.  Easier and cheaper to bring these people in and house them.  Not many considered the moral angle – this was “business”.  There was no other way to bring in the crops.  The southern U.S. was settled differently than the north: in the southern states, small towns were few and far between, whereas the northern towns were planned as tight communities.  Land tracts were smaller.  There were slaves in the north, but not many.  Some historians claim that Africans didn’t do well in the cold.  I think it was more economically based -there was available labor in the northern cities and towns and less need for field labor than in the southern states that were more spread out. 

Enter multitudes of other ethnic groups: the Germans, Irish, Jews of various nationalities, Swedes, Norwegians, Czechs, Poles, Lithuanians, French, Mexicans, Cubans, et al who brought their cultures into the U.S. and gradually assimilated, maintaining parts of their own culture.   

It is said that the winners get to write the history books.  That’s what we have now.  With all the civil unrest, how do we rewrite this narrative?  Who gets to decide?  What is the nature of the class structure in this country and how does it impact our thinking about race?  What does “Independence Day” mean?   This will start Tuesday’s discussion.   

1 July 2020

Some good news:  completing my fifth week on Optavia, I am down 15 pounds and 10 inches.  If I didn’t have so far to go, I’d celebrate.  For now, I’ll just make a few observations.  First, I no longer crave sweets at all.  I was given a box of warm Tiff’s Treats cookies as a gift and had no problem not eating even one of them.  I took them to the ladies at the Voting place and presented them as a gift.  It was surprisingly easy to do.  Second, I am never hungry.  Making myself eat every 2 1/2-3 hours keeps hunger at bay all day.  I really don’t think about food like I used to.  Third, I compare this to quitting smoking so many years ago.  Eliminate the triggers and the recovery is much easier.  When I quit smoking, I changed my habits so I would not reach for a cigarette.  It’s close to the same with food: getting rid of the hunger and getting accustomed to less food at any one time works well for me.  So, I am totally into my Martian space food and plan only the evening meal.  No wasted food either.  Even with the cost of the Optavia food, I think my monthly grocery bills have dropped.  

30 June 2020

I read a lot and a wide variety of books.  In the midst of COVID-19, I looked into some books on epidemics and settled on “Journal of the Plague Year” by Daniel Defoe. 

The year is 1665.  London, England.   In late 1664, ‘patient zero’, a London merchant, received some bolts of silk cloth from Holland via the Levant.   The next case was reported in February 1665, the next in April, then the plague exploded on the western end of London.  Within a few months, it spread across the whole city.  

Many residents fled London early with their families, including Daniel Defoe’s brother.  Daniel chose to stay and protect his saddler business.   1665 was a transitional year between the end of the Renaissance, when arts and knowledge blossomed across Europe, and the beginning of the Enlightenment, when scientific discoveries began to overshadow religious beliefs.   Daniel Defoe believes the plague is God’s will while carefully observing that human behavior has much to do with how the disease spreads.  

The microscope was invented by 1665, but it was little more than a magnification toy.  The bacteria that causes plague was not isolated until the late nineteenth century, and the mode of transmission – from rats to fleas to humans – was not discovered until about 15 years later.   In 1665, Daniel Defoe was going by observation and dead reckoning.  His good friend, Dr.Heath, wondered if he could breathe on a piece of glass and look at it under a microscope, perhaps they could see a dragon or some evil particle.  Neither of them had access to a microscope to experiment.   

“Journal” noted that nearly all businesses shut down which froze the workings of the city.  Few ships came to London and other European ports would not “unlade” goods from British ships.   Small businessmen and laborers became poor overnight.  The Lord Mayor of London set up an impressive public assistance program, paid for by many wealthy British citizens who lived both inside and outside the city.  (The city had some experience with handling plagues: since 1348 there had been nearly 40 of them).   Food was distributed generously, thanks to a good harvest that year, and the cost of goods never inflated.  There was a good system of workers assigned to assess homes with sick individuals and post “watchmen”;  pay for “dead-carts” that picked up dead bodies by day and buried them by night (many huge trenches dug for this purpose); and aldermen checked on the progress of food distribution and closed up houses.   In order to keep his or her job, the worker had to agree to not leave the city.  Some  negative aspects of their jobs included having to close up houses with entire families inside for 40 days (if there was one sick person in the family, everyone was considered to be infected); they were also charged with killing all dogs, cats and vermin in the city.   

Daniel Defoe made some observations that relate to how we handle today’s pandemic:  he noticed that the infection rate was extremely high in the vicinity of the meat markets;  he noticed that individuals who were completely “well” were unwitting carriers; he remarked that isolating people into smaller groups tended to contain the spread; he mentioned “effluvia”, odious smells and touching infected people might be how the disease is spread.  All the right signs were there except he never mentioned fleas or rats.  Fleas were the intermediary that put the disease in motion, but it was people who spread it.  Defoe also suspected the “bills” (public list on numbers of infections and deaths) were understated – that the real numbers were twice as high due to unreported deaths and those who died while leaving the city limits.  

By September, London was in despair.  They had  buried 100,000 people within 2 months – about 20% of their residents since Spring.   No one was on the streets.  In the midst of this, even the most polarized groups, by station or religion, seemed to get along – a “we’re all in this together” sort of mood.    By October, the infection was starting to subside.  Those who left the city began to return.  Except for a few localized infection spikes, the plague was diminishing as quietly as it arrived.  Everyone went right back to their old squabbles and stations – a post script that Defoe mourned.  

Bubonic plague is a bacterial disease; COVID-19 is viral.  The diseases themselves may differ, but mitigation techniques are the same.  Social distancing  – check. Isolation of diseased individuals – check.  Daniel made no mention of face masks except for our friend the Plague Doctor who stuffed the snout of his mask with herbs and garlic.  

27 June 2020

Time flies.  Fifty-one years ago, I made a marriage commitment which I did not keep.  Happy Anniversary, Steve!  

24 June 2020

This morning I refinanced my townhouse.  Thanks for my friend Crystal at Willow Bend Mortgage for making it (mostly) painless.  I lowered my interest rate by 2 points, eliminated 12 years of interest by going from a 30 year fixed to a 15 year fixed mortgage, and changed my homeowner’s insurance in the process.  Bottom line is I will pay $7.00 more each month.  This is me smiling  🙂 

21 June 2020

Today is Father’s Day 2020.  My own father has passed on, making this a day of remembrance and also joy for the lives of my sons who are spending this day with their children.  Much love and Happy Father’s Day to all of you!  

This day also marks my parents’ 79th wedding anniversary –  June 21, 1941 – just months away from war.   Another reason for remembrance.  

June 21st is also “the longest day”.  Tomorrow the earth will start its rotational journey in the other direction.  As a child first learning about the earth’s movement, I always wondered why the hottest days of the year followed the earth’s movement toward winter.   It’s been explained to me scientifically, but it still makes no sense.  

I want to express the joy of being wrapped up in books.  This morning I finished the third book of a series that I started just last week.  The house chores got done in between chapters – barely.  I was enthralled with the series.  Does it matter which one?  Books are a wonderful way to meander in other worlds for a time.  When I return, I am all the richer for the journey.  

18 June 2020

“Black Lives Matter” is a group description for me.  It’s not just “black”, but all individuals who are not part of the “white” culture of this country.  “Black Lives” includes all African-American, Latino, Middle-Eastern, Indian – any ethnic group that is not “white”, plus the dispossessed groups like the LGBTQ community.  Those who say “All Lives Matter” are trying, in my opinion, to deny that there has been systematic discrimination against all those who are different from the white European narrative.  Blacks rank especially high because of slavery in our history, but I think it’s important to include these “others” in this boat.  We have a long history of assimilating foreigners. It’s time we opened the door much wider to accommodate these others and stopped these discriminatory practices.  It’s time to ditch this insidious class system.   In fact, it’s way past time.  

At the same time, I wish that we would not destroy our history by removing all the Civil War monuments.  As a historian, I happen see these Confederate soldiers as protecting a way of life for their families.  It is just as much a part of our history as Indians and Spanish explorers and the Pilgrims.  The southern states do tend to hang on to the Lost Cause myth which can get a little syrupy at times.  But, in the name of “Black Lives Matter”, I don’t see what is gained by destroying our historical monuments.  Better we spend our energy trying to promote change through education and inclusion.  Create new monuments to  the history of their collective success.  

13 June 2020

There are some thoughts I’ve been mulling over for the past few weeks.  This blog is partly a confession of not taking my college education as seriously as I should have at the time.  

The only course I completely failed at in college was economics.  It’s just not a subject that made sense to me out of a book.  “Guns and butter”?  Huh?  Over my lifetime, I’ve observed these forces and could probably now go back to that old economics book and make sense of it.   

We live in a capitalistic business and political system, where “trade and industry are controlled by private owners, rather than by the state”.  The first settlements were born from capitalistic ventures:  English groups invested money in boats and supplies in order for the settlers to extract natural resources that would be sent back to England for profit.  The English, in fact, viewed the North American continent as a huge repository of natural resources for English manufacturers to make into finished products.  There was no effort by the mother country to establish manufacturing capability within the colonies; it was intended that the colonists would become self-sufficient and self-governing so long as they sent the raw materials back to the mother land for finishing.  

After the Revolutionary War, American business patterned itself after the English model.  Hence, investors owned stock in companies.  Risk and competition were integral parts of the process.  Without risk, there is no profit.  Without competition, there is no incentive to make a better product at an acceptable price.   Investment is stocks was a way to share the risk among many.  This is capitalism at its best – it is this system that built the United States.  

In the late nineteenth century, between the Civil War and the Great War, American business expanded rapidly without federal oversight.  In so doing, competition was quashed.  The big grew bigger by buying or eliminating  competitors.  There was one telephone company, one big oil company, a few big banks and steel companies.  With it came power, a decline in innovation and a widening income gap.  The American dream evaporated because competition disappeared.  There were few avenues to rise above one’s current social position.    (Note that I’m simplifying these complicated interconnections to make a point). 

Teddy Roosevelt and others led the way to break up these monopolies, institute income tax and introduce the concept of “federal regulation” over national industries.  The purpose was to make corporate entities responsible for the welfare of their workers, and to open avenues for a middle class to form from innovation.  Hence, cars replaced wagons and electrical appliances made life much easier.  

The fact is, business owners don’t like regulations (they restrain profits), and they tend to cohere in their common interest.  In other words, cutting down on competition boosts profits.  In the meantime, federal laws greatly favor corporate entities such that it is nearly impossible to bypass the corporate shell to find any individuals guilty of malfeasance. (Ref. 2008 financial collapse.  Just who went to jail?) Power and money slowly and silently have consolidated. 

I listened to a webinar this week about the status of our healthcare system – why the U.S. has worse outcomes at a higher price than other developed nations.  I think it has a lot to do with the lack of competition.  Drug companies are merging at a dizzying rate; most hospital systems have consolidated and often have only one major player within a market; healthcare insurance is disappearing – in fact, some conglomerates are forming that combine several healthcare industries to create a vertical and horizontal monolith.  It’s hard to regulate one without affecting another.  And they have powerful lobbyists.  

Income disparity has widened.  Where has the middle class gone?  The large corporations – combined with venture capitalists – have sucked the life out of the competitors.  Now there is much less competition and air for innovation.  (Of course, humans help this process along by developing a good idea, then selling out to the big companies.  It’s all about the money you see).  

Back to economics:  it seems to me that our current version of capitalism is not working because risk is minimized with so little competition, besides favorable corporate laws.  The system has seized up, like interlocking sprocket wheels placed too close together.   The capitalism we have now is the complete inverse of socialism (where business ownership is spread out in the community).  In order for American capitalism to work properly, as it did in the beginning of our republic, there must be a balance between the two.  The “few” now own 98% of the country’s wealth, up from 60% just 30 years ago (citing Molly Ivins), and the “many” now own a mere 2%.   This is not the way American capitalism started and is certainly not sustainable.  I think the recent street protests are just the beginning of unrest. 

If the Democrats move into power in January, they had better focus on changing more than social programs.  They need to change the laws that enable this power structure to continue, and they had better do it quickly.  The extremely wealthy and corporate entities will fight to survive every way they can.  Balance needs to be restored.   

11 June 2020

So far, 10 pounds off and about 4.5 inches.  I am hoping for 12 more by the end of the next month.  Yay Optivia!

Yesterday, while I was watering the plants in the back yard, one of my neighbors stopped to say hello as she was on her morning walk.  We had an interesting conversation on “who the protesters/marchers” are.  These marches over the killing of George Perry Floyd have taken place in major and relatively minor cities across the nation, and have mostly been peaceful protests.  What is interesting to me is the faces in the crowd.  These are mostly young adults – teenagers to 30-ish years old with faces that are black, brown and white.  In other words, they are not all black faces wanting change for black people.  What is so evident is that this generation is much more diverse than my children’s Gen X group and certainly more diverse than my Baby Boomer group.  It is the older Baby Boomers who remember the 60’s as a time of social change.  Our crucible was the Viet Nam War.  We put daisies in gun barrels.  We remember meaningful protests and can relate to them.  Watching the marchers brought back memories of my own youth and the change we wanted for our generation.  These marchers are asking for the same status. 

The marchers are the “ground swell” that Bernie Sanders referred to.  These are his people, and Bernie was right.  The touchstone to reveal their strength was George Perry Floyd’s murder at the hands of police.  This is always the way – the spark of a change is never when or where we expect it.   It percolates when the time is right. 

Among the peaceful marchers are also those who take advantage of the collective situation:  there are the punk-ass kids who break into stores to steal stuff, there are the theft rings that linger in the crowd and organize to steal when the police aren’t looking, there are the extremes of both political parties in whose interest it is to prove a political point with violence.  With any march, these groups will join the peaceful marchers, hiding in plain sight.  It’s as sure as the pickpockets in Times Square on New Year’s Eve.  My point is, you have to separate those elements from the point the peaceful marchers are trying to get across and separate the agendas.  If the overall purpose of the protest is strong, it will prevail.  I’m glad to see that it did.   

I must give points to Mayor Bowser for painting “Black Lives Matter” on the DC city street.  It was a very cheeky thing to do.  Legal and full frontal.  Loved it!  

My lovely neighbor heard more than she bargained for.   Oh well.  

4 June 2020

My 9th day on Optivia.  I imagine that I’m living on Mars and eating space food like Matt Damon in “The Martian”.  All meals except the “lean and green” meal come out of an envelope.  My grocery bills have dropped a lot, but space food is pretty expensive.  It works and I’m thriving.  My feet are thanking me, my balance is much better, my clothes are looser.  I have retreated from the precipice of overweight and no longer have vertigo from looking over the edge.  It’s just a few steps back, but I’ll take it. 

On my bookshelf is a perpetual calendar with anniversaries and notes about extraordinary happenings.  For example, today is the anniversary of Tiananmen Square (1989) – notable because history is repeating itself.   The Chinese are squeezing Hong Kong into submission.  So far, no bloodletting, but it’s coming.  June 4, 1919 is the day that Congress passed the 19th Amendment giving women the right to vote.  It was immediately preceded by the 18th Amendment (the Volstead Act) giving us 12 years of Prohibition.  We have come a long way for sure.

If I don’t blog tomorrow, I want to note now that June 5, 1981 was the first reference to AIDS in an obscure medical journal.  That is a pandemic that is now endemic.  No vaccine, no cure, but lots of good treatments. 

The weather outside is now warm enough that I can’t open the sliding door for fresh air in the morning without tripping the thermostat.  It feels good outside though and the flowers love it.  

2 June 2020

My brother’s 76th birthday.  My, my how time flies.  

This is day 7 of the diet and I’m able to manage the requirements so far.  OptiVia is pretty easy to follow as long as I have no breakfast or lunch plans.  I’ve set up having a glass of wine with my friend Linda next Tuesday.  This day will mark 2 weeks of dieting.  It will be time to have that celebration glass of wine.  

30 May 2020

Rioting in major cities is taking me back in time to the 1992 LA riots when Rodney King was badly beaten.  Current scenes are full of young adults – not just Black, but also white and Latino youths – all protesting together.    These kids are more “color blind” than earlier generations.  Maybe there’s hope yet.  

When I was a freshman at Northwestern University (many years ago), there were just two Black students who lived in my dorm.  One of them became a friend – her name was Sandy Malone.   I enjoyed her company, but could tell she was uncomfortable in an environment of all white girls.  Sandy and I were friends; we laughed and talked like college students do,  but she chose to spend the bulk of her time with the other Black freshman.  Having come from a pretty naive upbringing, I didn’t read much into it at the time.  There were a lot of girls in my dorm and there was never a lull in social activity.   

I admired Sandy, recognizing that she was more a “fish out of water” than I was.  We were both over 1000 miles from our home towns, so everything was new.  She and I had to find our own direction.  I could tell, however, her social choices were narrower than mine and I sensed her distrust of new friendships, as if she was holding herself back.   Made we wonder. 

I learned that year that the town I grew up in had an unwritten rule among realtors that property would not be sold to either Blacks or Jews.  Because most of my high school friends were Jewish, I never noticed their absence in my neighborhood.  Black families?  Never crossed my mind growing up.  I thought they just preferred to lived with other Black people, like Cubans prefer to live with other Cubans. 

As I have progressed through the working world in different cities and states, I have had many Black coworkers and good friends.  I noticed through the years how they flocked together in social groups within social groups.  I wondered why.   It took me many years to realize this behavior was similar to Sandy’s, trusting her Black friends more than the rest of us.  There was a shared experience and culture that I didn’t realize was so separate, and moreover “safe” for them.  Many of my Black friends are very comfortable with white friends, but gravitate toward their Black friends.  Made me sad to see this – to know that there is a fundamental distrust on their part.   

Watching the footage of George Floyd’s murder reminds me where this distrust and anger come from.  We haven’t quit fighting the Civil War.  The issues that plagued our earliest settlers and Founding Fathers are still alive and kicking.   

I hear the anger and frustration in my friends’ Facebook posts.  I am so sorry for all this and will do whatever I can to make this right.  

25 May 2020

It’s a rainy Memorial Day.  I went to post a tribute to the family soldiers and cannot put my hands on Gus’ Marine photo or Dad’s Army Air Corps photo.  Lately, my genealogical research has uncovered so many Revolutionary War patriots – even a King Philip’s War veteran – plus assorted Civil War soldiers, both Union and Confederate.  So I salute you all within this blog on this rainy Memorial Day.  

Jacque C. is coming to visit.  She’s in town, but out shopping somewhere.  We were supposed to have pizza here with friend Cathy, but it may not happen.  Jacque can make her own plans from here.  

21 May 2020

Yesterday I had a meeting with the Parkinson’s disease group on whose board I serve.  Currently, all exercise classes and events are on Zoom.  The meeting was intended to determine how successful the Zoom initiative has been and when this group could possibly “open for business”.   

We decided that it is way too soon to change  the current protocol.  There are many reasons for this – at the root of it is that Parkinson’s patients have impaired motor function which includes lungs.  It would be risky and difficult to manage collective activities.  I am happy that we’re able to reach out to them electronically so they can keep exercising, but sad on the other hand that they feel isolated.  Social events are great motivators for them.  I wish there was some way to make these happen. 

I am starting a special diet next week called Optivia – recommended by two people I trust.  I know I’ll have a rough transition, but look forward to surprising a lot of people in time, myself included.  I am thinking about changes I’ll need to make similar to imagining the changes needed when I quit smoking so many years ago.  The “triggers” need to be identified and behavior modified to make other changes successful.  

  19 May 2020

Sunny and warming up.  It’s a full day of Zoom meetings!  4 in all.  My, how things have changed.   After “sheltering” for so long, today is only the second time in months that I’ve put on makeup.  Almost forgot how to apply it!  

I have signed up to embark upon an aggressive diet.   Start next week.  Between now and then, it will be a process of ridding the refrigerator of those items that are banned.  Projected end date is my birthday at the end of September.  Will remeasure then.  Good luck to me 🙂

15 May 2020

Yes – finally found the right source book! I can demonstrate that my family is traceable back to the Kings and Queens of England through my Welsh 8th Great Grandmother Elizabeth Bevan! 

Speaking of “sheltering in place”, I had to apply make-up this morning for this first time in 2 months for a client-related Zoom call.  Almost forgot how to do it.  Maybe it’s because I really like not having to wear it.  Maybe.   

9 May 2020

A polar cold front has dipped into the U.S. just in time for Mother’s Day.  This has produced some spectacular sunny and cool weather for us in Texas and snow storms in New Hampshire.  In other weather news, the National Weather Service is predicting an active hurricane season with several major storms.  Hopefully, the storms will spend all their energy on their way to Bermuda and not hit the U.S. coast line.  Alas, we are never that lucky.  

A day for old memories:  goodbye, Little Richard.  You rocked and we rolled all through high school and college.  You were the gateway to the best music ever!    

On the eve of Mother’s Day, I wish Mothers one and all a joyous day filled with children and love.  

7 May 2020 

Zoom and Facebook Live are my life outside of home.  Channeling Faith Popcorn, I see a lot more of this going forward: home office expansion, smaller rental offices, greater use of shared office space.  Office supply stores, Wayfair and the Container Store should do well in this environment. 

I read today that Neiman Marcus has filed Chapter 11 bankruptcy, as has J. Crew.  The Gap is not far behind.    Sad to see all these great brands die off.  The era of home delivery has arrived.  Why spend your time shopping in person when you can do it in comfort online?  All those creative merchandisers who decorated stores to support impulse buying are now online doing the same.  We’re still spending money – just differently.  

Everyone’s work clothing will dwindle.  Designers need to focus on comfortable office attire.  The days of the suit and tie are numbered.  Just like our march to legalizing marijuana has greatly improved as the Gen Xers age, the suit and tie will go the way of the dodo as Millennials reach middle age.  These changes don’t happen with the snap of one’s fingers, they are generational.  

When I watch Zoom interviews from professionals’ offices, there are always a ton of books in the background.  I don’t think this is a deliberate setting to make the interviewee look smart.  Offices are normally located where the reference books are.  In the future, there will be more online books.  Within a generation, the Zoom background will have fewer hardbound books .  Perhaps art?  that would be nice.  But don’t take my books away! 

I discovered that one of my ancestral lines – the Bevans –  has a noble Welsh lineage going back to the 1200’s.  Most of the names are unpronounceable.   Speaking of books, I’ve ordered one on this Pennsylvania family who arrived before 1700.  Another book for my ever growing library.  

 Among all the depressing news in the press, I am comforted by the presence of a “Ron Payne Picture Perfect Day” today.  Lovely spring weather.  I am grateful and I am blessed.  

4 May 2020

I’ve been painting.  A lot.  Almost finished with the upstairs bathroom.  Although not a fan of Joanna Gaines’ show, I do love the Magnolia Home paint colors available at Ace Hardware.  These pandemic days, I am especially grateful for community hardware stores like Ace Hardware and always buy from them if possible.  The crowds at Lowe’s and Home Depot are crushing and it’s hard to find anyone to help.  

Sleuthing family history has provided a wonderful diversion while sheltering in place.  I came upon an ancestral list provided to me by my youngest son several years ago that claimed one line of our family is descended from the Plantagenet kings and ultimately, William the Conqueror.  Sorry to say, I can get within two generations of proving this, but not all the way.  We are both disappointed, but I’ll keep searching.  Going back to 1460 is a real success.  

I learned about the source of the term “quarantine”.  It is derived from the 14th Century word “quaranta”, meaning the number “forty”.  In order to disembark within Venice’s harbor, arriving ships had to anchor on an island outside the harbor for forty days in “quarantena”.   In the 14th century, there was scant knowledge of contagion:  populations only knew that separation worked and forty days was consistent with biblical beliefs.  If 40 days is good enough for Noah, Moses, Elijah and Jesus, then it should be good enough to keep disease at bay.  Sometimes the ship rats outsmarted the city leaders and plague decimated Venice’s population – less often than it could have been had it not been for “quarantena”.  

Where in the world did April go?  It’s May already!  

28 April 2020

Getting warmer outside.  I haven’t been out yet, but the air conditioner is running more often – a sure sign of warming.  

Another book completed:  “Before We Were Yours” by Lisa Wingate.  Liked it a lot and know my senior living ladies will too.  I remember news reports about this adoption scandal.  It was great to read a book that realistically portrayed it through the eyes of the children.  

I’m in the throes of painting the bathroom.  For such a small room, it certainly takes a lot of time to do.  I’ve removed all the cabinet doors and have 4 painted so far.  Only 5 much larger ones to go.  The results will be much more pleasant.  I’m weary of the dark gray.  

25 April 2020

It’s a blog sort of a day.  A cool, sunny and lazy Saturday.  The phone is not busy and no errands or meetings on the calendar.  A good day to catch up.  Tomorrow I have much philanthropy work to do, but today is mine.  I’ve made a list of open projects and cannot wait to get started!  

One note for the record:  I finished another book yesterday – “Stormy Weather” by Paulette Jiles.  This was a re-read from a few years ago because I made it the April book selection for my senior community.   For years, Wallace Stegner has been my favorite author, but Paulette Jiles may be nudging him out of first place.  Her stories and characters resonate with me.  Always the mark of a great painting or book, “resonating” is the measure of the power of an experience.   The characters are authentic and the feelings stick with you long after you’ve read the last chapter.  

18 April 2020

Finished 2 books (mediocre mysteries);  I’m on to Paulette Jiles (“Stormy Weather”) and Herman Melville’s “Moby Dick”.  Both excellent reads.  I confess that “Moby Dick” is a book I was supposed to have read years ago in some lit class or other.  Never did.  What a great story!  High school students today would have a hard time with writers who don’t communicate in 140 characters.  Melville is poetic.  No photography when this was book was written so the writer had to ‘paint the words’.  Must remember the god Yojo.  

Melville had no doubt heard about the voyage of the Essex – a whaling vessel that was destroyed by the very mammal they were chasing.  Taking this as the focal event, however, Melville has created an original story that is at once amusing and alluring and all too honest about human beings.  

Still sheltering in place, I’m getting a hankering to paint the master bath.  Along with going through the old files, this is a project that has been so far down the to-do list, that it only surfaced from obscurity when other projects were concluding.  It should take two days, including the cabinet doors.  Got the paint.  Ready to roll.  

14 April 2020

Six boxes of paper going to the shredder so far.  I will celebrate Tax Day (tomorrow) by taking all this to the paper-eating machine.  Long overdue.  

11 April 2020

“Sheltering in Place” II has me going through a whole bunch of old files.  Material is divided by 1) keep and reorganize, 2) toss, and 3) recycle.  No donations here.  The Recycle bin is almost full, and I’ve already taken 2 full file boxes of material to the UPS Store for shredding.  This project will be finished by tomorrow.  It amuses me to think that I am doing this in part to save my children from having to bring in a dumpster upon my death.  Being closer to the final act than the beginning, and knowing that the curtain can drop unexpectedly, this process matters greatly to me.  Everyone wants to leave a legacy to others:  it’s important to me to leave discoveries for them, but not a mess to clean up.  Not maudlin, but a curious feeling.   

Reading continues:  “Moby Dick” and “King Lear” together.   

Passover and Easter are occurring via Zoom and Skype for most families.  Some (Republican) states are allowing churches to gather for Easter.   I will log on.   I hope everyone enjoys their chosen holiday :-).   

4 April 2020

A cold front has blown in so the heat is back on.  It’s the sort of day where a nap feels imminent followed by a mug of hot tea.  I’m yawning in spite of myself. 

After two big cleaning tasks yesterday,  I fulfilled my urge to get back into genealogy research.  Heck – it’s not like I don’t have the time!  It was fun to take one line of the family back to colonial arrival.  Ancestry has updated its application which makes transferring data easy.  I was transfixed in front of the computer for several hours.  It sure beats cleaning the refrigerator or – worse – watching continual live updates on the coronavirus pandemic.  I’d rather float in times past and put together puzzle pieces.   

  Speak of which – 1000 piece puzzle done!  

1 April 2020

April Fool’s Day.  No one much feels like fooling anyone.  Too much reality all around us.  Fortunately, Spring is upon us, making us feel less “house bound”.  This sheltering-in-place can be a drag – or it can be a serendipity.  Taking a walk is good for the soul.  

“Shelter in place” is forcing the Luddites among us to become more digital.  Meetings are now Zoom or Skype instead of in-person.  Because the shelter-in-place order will not be lifted anytime soon, people will grow more accustomed to working from home.   One of my non-profits has been contemplating going digital for member contact information rather than printing a handbook.  Now might be a great time to make that transition.  

I am starting to imagine “the Afterward”.  No, I’m not imagining the Apocalypse or Night of the Walking Dead!  The Near Future period will certainly be chaotic and could be bloody at times, especially as the weather heats up.  The Afterward will depend in part on how disruptive the in-between time is, who is in charge, and how we collectively decide what is most important for us to preserve.  I imagine standing in front of a giant storage space with stuff crammed to the top, and forcing myself to choose the 10 items I couldn’t live without. I have a valise under my bed that will need to hold all 10.  

I imagine strip shopping centers and malls closed up as retailers permanently shutter and ordering goods moves online.  Some shopping centers will be repurposed (“Children, I remember when that homeless housing center used to be Something Something Square Mall”). 

I imagine dogs and cats loose and animal shelters overflowing, as people have to make hard choices about allocating money. 

I imagine backlogs in the court system that will continue for years .  Liability is the silent partner of every business these days.  It seems proper behavior by corporate entities is driven more by the fear of being sued than the ethical imperative of choosing the right path.  The rule of law is what holds this country together, but it seems like the court system is tied up in knots these days with frivolous matters.   I don’t see this situation changing as the poor get poorer and lawyers keep fly-specking all corporate behavior for opportunities.    

I imagine more layoffs as time goes on.  I spent many years in the broadcasting business and know for a fact that many will lose their jobs after the election cycle ends in November.  The last seismic event occurred  after the 2008 election.  Stay tuned.   

I imagine tremendous upheavals in the car industry.  If they needed a bailout in 2008-2009, some will not survive this one.    The Mercury and Pontiac brands went the way of the dodo bird several years ago.  Others will follow.  

Will Bernie-type socialism win the day?  It will take ingenuity, capital and risk to restart our economy – these are part of the capitalism model, not socialism.  Many aspects of governing are best done on a national level – for example, air traffic control and interstate commerce – which is socialistic.  So is our currency, the postal system, the military, FEMA, Medicare, Social Security, etc. etc.   Our “interconnectedness” makes some things work better  this way.   So where is the balance between collective and capitalistic benefits?  The national conversation needs to be like choosing the 10 most important items out of the storage unit.

These are not forecasts or predictions or April Fool’s jokes – just imagining the current situation forward.  Part of writing is imagining and then telling the story.  This is where it all starts.  

27 March 2020

Not only the clock is warping, but so are the dates.  “What day is this again?”  It’s Friday.  Have to admit that I  had to recount the week days to get it right.  

I’m addicted to this 1000-piece puzzle my daughter-in-law sent.  I have it about halfway done after 4 days of working on it a few hours in the evening.  Thank you, Heather! 

My office is looking much better after a day of rummaging through drawers.  Like geological strata, I’ve dug all the way down through the ages to bedrock.  Keep some, reorganize it and put it back, sometimes in new places.  Toss or donate the rest.  I figure that by the end of next week, I’ll have the whole house done.  Reading, writing and reorganizing  adventures of “sheltering in place”.  

24 March 2020

Finished one book and started another today.  Reading and learning a lot in the time available.  

The most pleasant time has been spent reading some letters that my grandfather wrote to my grandmother before their marriage in West Point, Mississippi just before Christmas 1910.  Very sweet notes to his future bride.  Must note for my brother, Fred:  our grandfather’s handwriting was atrocious.  Unfortunately, genetics hasn’t improved with time.  Dad’s handwriting was terrible and brother Fred’s is worse.  

One letter was written from the Cataract Hotel in Sioux Falls, South Dakota (“absolutely fire proof, 150 rooms, 40 with private baths”).  My grandfather mentioned that the locals had a lot of questions about “living in the South” and “the Negros”.  My guess is that Sioux Falls was an all-white city in 1910.   Many in the city might still have memories of the Civil War and Reconstruction.  

23 March 2020

“Sheltering in Place” Day 4:  all the things on my to-do list are done:  cleaned up and planted the back yard, washed the clothes, polished the silver, watered the plants, finished two writing projects, cleaned up my office (mostly) and have had some lovely conversations with good friends.  Now if I could just figure out how to cut my own hair.  Perhaps it’s time to grow it out?  

Resolve: to limit myself to an hour a day of news.  This hour excludes the presidential news conference which has no news value anyway.  

Resolve: to walk a few miles each day unless it’s pouring rain and to eat lightly.

Resolve: to limit myself to 45 minutes daily on Facebook.  It is addictive.  

Resolve: to clean up every day even if I have no where to go.  

There will be an aftermath to all this.  It’s time to focus on going forward.  Next up?

21 March 2020

Another day of “sheltering in place”.  Today is the Spring Equinox.   At least the rain has stopped and the sun is out.  Time for a brisk walk – about the only living activity I have with the outside world where hand-washing isn’t required.  I feel like we are all starring in our own “Castaway” movie where we have to learn to keep breathing without human interaction.  No Wilson here.  

19 March 2020

What day is it again?  Housebound with no firm appointments, time seems to drift along.  The clock face looks like one that impaired patients draw. 

Days, times drift along without reference points.  It seems that we wish for time like this, when there is nothing to do so we can do what we always wanted to do.  Like the dog who chases cars, now that the car has stopped, we are lost.  All the time in the world and no where to go, with choices on how to spend our time more limited.  

The news media are doing their best to report honestly and mirror the “social distancing” steps the rest of us are advised to take.  The bulk of what they report, however,  is not good news  This virus is lethal for more than just the elderly and immune-system impaired.  Young adults are catching it too.   This isolation could go on for a long time which small businesses cannot sustain.  They will close permanently.  Unemployment applications have multiplied 10 times normal (as of yesterday) with hourly workers on the street.   Meanwhile, our investment portfolios have lost all the gains of the past several years.  The only people making money right now are the firearms and end-of-the-world retailers whose business is booming.   Panic is all around, along with the requisite finger-pointing.  This is global, too, so EVERYONE is affected.  

Many years ago, I learned how to deal with sudden isolation and how to avoid becoming depressed by it.  I planned for it by making a list of things I wanted to do during the hiatus.  With some restrictions, anyone can do this now.  Obviously, dinner out with friends I haven’t seen in a long time is not possible.  I can dig up my garden, rearrange furniture, paint a room, go through the Fibber McGee closets and discard (it’s a great time to de-clutter), write a letter (how foreign is that?), binge watch a show you’re interested in, take a lot of long walks anywhere and everywhere (it’s Spring!), take a drive to see the bluebonnets in bloom (there’s a map on the Ennis website – gas is cheap now), get on the ed2go website and learn a new skill, peruse Youtube for things to learn,  rearrange your computer by discarding old files and pictures,  read that book you’ve wanted to read for months – or- pick up one from high school days that you never read (and wrote your book report by means of Cliff’s Notes), etc. etc.   I suggest you choose 2 items to start – one that is stationery and one that requires a lot of movement.  You’ll feel better if you keep moving and have things to look forward to. 

Keep in touch with your friends and family by phone, email and Facebook or Facetime.  Check in with your neighbors – especially the older ones – to see if they need anything.  We are, after all, social animals.  We need each other – even at a distance.   

The message here is to make this quiet period of time work for you – even if you’re out of work.  Do something for yourself and for others that will make you feel better.  Clean up every day and go forward.  We will get through this.  

17 March 2020

There will not be much green beer on this St. Patrick’s Day.  With the parades cancelled and all the  bars and restaurants closed except for take-out orders, the Irish will have to celebrate at home this year.  

A perusal of Facebook shows families spending time together in a variety of  ways:  son Sam and family are sitting on the top step of their stairway, tossing red plastic cups into a pile on the floor below.  I guess you can make a game out of anything.   My ADHD working friends are going stir-crazy with so little to do.  With offices closed except for critical personnel and meetings by conference call, the home-bound are antsy.  For the more resourceful, there are always low-on-the-bucket-list things to do:  clean the garage, inventory the attic, closet rearranging, painting walls, washing windows, cooking up what’s in the freezer … the list goes on.  

I view this period as an opportunity for introspection and renewal.  That stated, the garage will get cleaned out today.   

15 March 2020

Silence.  All social activity has ceased in order to promote “social distancing” due to the CoVID-19 virus.  Tell me:  what is the difference between “social distancing” and “quarantine”?  They appear to be a distinction without a difference in the current context.  Food shelves are bare of necessities.  Individuals have bought up all the toilet paper.  How bizarre!  If you were to check sporting goods stores, I’ll bet they’re out of bullets.  It’s the silence that is eerie.  Even my phone is quiet.  It’s like “The Day the Earth Stood Still”.  

8 March 2020

It’s International Women’s Day which must be celebrated.  Women have come so far in the past century – only a small step in the difference we will  make going forward.  The irony is that, on this very day,  we are also turning the clock forward an hour with Daylight Savings Time .  It is fitting that we women celebrate by losing an hour!  I doubt an International Men’s Day could withstand this.  

7 March 2020

Spring is here.  The sun is out and the air warm.  Flowers and trees are blooming.  It’s time to clean up the yard and move the plants outside.  The cycle of life is renewed and affirmed.    I have much desk work to do, but feel myself drawn to the outdoors today.   Too many things weighing on my mind.  Digging in the dirt is my way of sorting out  concerns and putting them in the right perspective.   

4 March 2020

My mother’s birthday.  If she was alive today, she would be 99 years old.  I haven’t been able to celebrate a birthday in person with her since 1979.  The March 4’s ever since have had no cake or gifts, only a quiet acknowledgement of an extraordinary life that ended too soon.

23 February 2020 

I didn’t mean to work all afternoon, but I did.   A lot was accomplished, but I have neglected being physically active.  One day soon, I will let loose of all the volunteer projects I’ve committed to and just spend time on me.  To repeat, one day soon.  

12 February 2020

BACK HOME IN INDIANA

The weather outside is cloudy, cold and rainy.  There are news reports of flooding all over north Texas.  As I walk through puddles while holding tightly to a wind-blown umbrella, my mind drifts to my southern Indiana days when the Ohio River is high and the water wide. 

Perhaps it is the time of year and the weather. Late January and February are the months for flooding along the Ohio.  January brings frigid temperatures and often snow.  By early February, the ground is swollen with water and nowhere to go except high and wide when it rains.   I remember standing on the high north bank of the Ohio and looking across to the Kentucky side of the river.  Most of the vista consists of flood plain that is farmed during the summer months.  There is a raised road that runs along the southern bank, providing a pathway for tractors.   An old tobacco shed stands along that road.  When the Ohio River floods, water covers the entire flood plain with water flowing upward to the edge of the raised road.  The tobacco shed looks like an unmoored pontoon boat floating peacefully over a lake.   The mighty Ohio spreads from my feet to as far as my eyes can see. 

Meanwhile, on the north bank, the river rises near the top of the rip-rapping.  The current flows swiftly with occasional tree limbs in tow.  In earlier years, the river actually sheared off an entire city block along this very bank.  Old maps show a whole block plus another street that have now vanished.  Family history says the old furniture company was located there.  Gone now and forever with the water.

Memory is a feel, a smell, a sense of wind and water.  It’s that season for the Ohio River to spread out and call me back. 

8 February 2020

A sunny Saturday in a typical Texas roller-coaster weather week.   Down to the very low 30’s early, dismal weather that brought snow and ice to the northern part of the Metroplex, followed by a “warm-up” at week’s end.  60 degrees expected today.  Perfect human being weather.   Bless the Texas winters because they balance the hot summers so beautifully.   I can feel the glorious Texas wildflowers coming out of the ground to celebrate Spring.  

I am reading two books at once, both about Alice Roosevelt Longworth.  One is called “American Princess”  by Stephanie Marie Thornton – a historical novel based on Alice’s life.   The other is a biography called simply “Alice” by Stacy A. Cordery, a book I’ve had in my library for a long time and have never read.   The novel gives a “pointellist” picture of Alice’s experiences, while the biography provides context and depth.   The former lends action to Alice’s real diary entries, the latter paints a detailed backdrop.   The book group I lead selected “American Princess” for their February book – it is the month in which Alice Roosevelt was born, the month in which she was married to Nick Longworth, and the month in which she passed away.  Seemed appropriate to celebrate such a novel life.  

I would have appreciated Alice Roosevelt for her naughtiness and “pushing the envelope” on strict Victorian convention.  She sneaked out the window, smoked in public and fired her gun off the back of a train,  gambled on horses and rode astride a horse instead of side-saddle.  Alice shattered many accepted “male-female” roles.  She was athletic and energetic like her father, TR, and preferred politics to caring for the poor like her cousin Eleanor.   The pillow on her DuPont circle sofa says: “If you can’t say something good about someone, sit right her by me”.   I wish I could sit by Alice in these turbulent political times:  there would be things to say that are not  “good”.   Having broken with a few conventions myself, I can relate to  Alice.  

Yesterday I shared lunch with an old friend.  One of the things we talked about is the health difficulties some of our peers are experiencing.  After an entire lifetime of health problems being the exception to the rule, we both find our contemporaries suffering them with some regularity.  We are moving into a “caregiver” phase of our lives where friendship includes more than just social banter:  now we buy groceries, visit hospitals and rehab centers, and generally  guide friends in their adjustment to a weakened and more isolated state.  This feeling washed over me when playing cards with friends recently – so many of us no longer work and have significant others who now have chronic illnesses.  Youth is gone.  Now we need to care for one another into old age.   

2 February 2020

For many, this is Groundhog Day and Super Bowl Sunday.  For me, it’s “work on your taxes” day.  Note the lower case.  I don’t even know which teams are playing in the Super Bowl!  Puncxutawney Phil didn’t see his shadow so Spring is around the corner.  Check.  Who is playing in the Super Bowl?  Still don’t know.  Check, due to lack of interest.  Now to the tax box while I watch the kick-off tonight (although I will turn over to watch “Sanditon” on PBS for an hour.  I have my priorities). Check.

I still keep written ledgers.  My grown children are appalled at how “Old School” I am, as they are all light years past me electronically.  Through the years, however, I have a written record that transcends computer upgrades, software updates and establishes a record that my accountant praises.  He has no problem preparing and supporting my tax returns.

So, phhhttt to superior technology.  I prefer to write it out and record it.  That said,  I do find it tedious and a less-than-pleasurable way to spend a lovely Sunday afternoon.  Check.

21 January 2020

My right cheek is puffy from yesterday’s visit to the dentist office.   So much novocaine , gas, pulling and pulling.  I was waiting for “the bullet to drop in the pan”, but that implant anchor is stuck solid.  My hope is that the antibiotics and removal of granular tissue will get rid of the infection in the soft tissue in my lower jaw.  If not, then I am headed to another oral surgeon who has a specialized drilling tool.   Kind of like fracking in my mouth.  – In the meantime, soft foods are on the menu.

9 January 2020

Time is a word of multiple layers:  it can be absolute, as in “60 minutes in one hour”, and it can be elastic, as in “the minutes feel like hours”.   Today is a day where the elastic properties are in play:  these workers have been repairing the streets outside my house, off and on, for over 6 months.  It feels like years!  For several months, ditches with new water lines have created spokes on the circular roadway.  After a bit of rain, the in-between dirt compresses and it feels like driving on courderoy.  Bump-bump, bump-bump.  Texas heat stirs up dust – when it rains, mud from the dirt roadway travels up the apron and into each garage.  Now, the road is not driveable at all:  the dirt is all ground up and leveled, waiting for the composite to be laid down.  Due to rain in the forecast, the new asphalt will not be applied until early next week.  We’re almost done – why does it feel like forever to the finish line?

4 January 2020

For the past month, my website has been undergoing a transfer from one platform to another. I imagine the contents hovering somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico, enjoying the warm Caribbean breeze. Having now landed, it suffered some bruises in the descent which are being fixed as I write this. The formatting suffered the most. Always a process.
I spent a few weeks with my grown children and their families in St. Louis and Evansville, Indiana. Such a great time I love them so much and wish I was closer to spend individual time with these kids. It seems I am always a visitor in their lives. This is not how I imagined grandmother-hood.

No New Year’s Resolutions – just goals for the coming year. I want to read Moby Dick and Lonesome Dove cover-to-cover. (Must admit to having skimmed Moby Dick in High School – a real sloggish read for a 16-year-old) make a Christmas stocking for Susan; finally learn to crochet; one travel trip that is for me – not sure where. 2020 will be a year of less “self-indulgence”. I’ve let life get away from me in the past year and aim to apply the brakes in the coming year. So, I’ve put this all down and will measure again in 2021. During 2019, I did read Rob Chernow’s “Grant” (excellent), finished recaning to rocker and took it to St. Louis, and completed Annie’s stocking. “Lonesome Dove” is a carry-over to 2020 along with learning to crochet.

While reformatting, I found a 3-year gap in blog entries. Curious hiatus. That was a period of reflection and getting ready for next steps.

1 December 2019

Been too long away.  If you wonder – “do I write everyday?” I respond, “Yes!”  I jot ideas down and and tuck some away in my head for future use.  They don’t always make it to paper in essay form.  I also read every day.   Data input and perspective are critical to good writing.  If there is a word I don’t know or see so seldom that the context is unclear, I look it up and write it down in a journal.  So, I do write everyday in some way.

It has been a lovely, peaceful Thanksgiving weekend of reading and “doing”.  I am thankful for all my family members, both immediate and removed.   I am also thankful for my ability to reach out to others, to help a few in need with what meager resources I have.

There are a few regrets and a few people to whom I owe a very big apology.  You don’t know who you are (well, maybe you do), but I will find you one day and say it in person.   To those I have diminished along the way unknowingly, you will have to speak up or let it go.   I can look back and excuse these as “youthful lack of knowledge” or I can accept responsibility and say that character is not something one is necessarily born with – it is an acquired state of being that I have tried to improve on over a lifetime.  Every day is a reason to do better – first through recognition, then through clearer insight, then through better behavior.  Like everyone else, I am a work-in-progress.

The sun is out today.  It’s warmish for December and time to tackle raking the rest of the leaves.  My neighbor will be so happy.

11 November 2019

Veterans’ Day – thank you to all the veterans out there, especially my son, Gus, the Marine, who drove a an Abrams tank in the last Iraq War and has harsh memories about the experience.  War is never kind.

Odd Artic cold front on its way to Texas  today.  It was 70 degrees over the weekend.  The temperature is due to drop into the 20’s by tomorrow.  The garden is buttoned up for the winter, faucets covered, and my front hall has turned into a green house.

30 October 2019

Blammo!  Just like that, it’s winter in Texas.  It is often said, just stick around a few minutes and the weather will change in Texas.  It was 90 degrees last week and nearly 35 degrees today.  I love cold weather, but could surely have used a little transition to keep the blood from coagulating.  It’s time to break out the gloves and heavy coat.

I don’t know if it’s “climate change”, but we have had some strange weather lately.  Last week, several tornadoes ripped through Dallas, flattening North Haven Garden Center, the 75/Forest Home Depot, the Preston/Royal Shopping Center, three schools, besides several homes in the Love Field to 75/Forest corridor.  One home belonging to a friend was filled with asbestos, so I guess the  destruction will have a silver lining for some.  It’s good to cover that stuff up.

It’s Halloween time in Dallas.  Per usual I will darken the house.  No candy distributed here.  Cathy is coming over for dinner.  We will try to lure this elusive cat of mine out of the cabinet.  Maybe we’ll get lucky.   Maybe it will warm up a bit tomorrow 🙂

24 October 2019

I met Joe and Annie in Berlin in late September.  Both planned to run the Berlin Marathon on Sunday, September 29.  So why not join them for a birthday celebration, too?

Berlin is now a unified city, although the transition from the “east side of the wall” to the “west side” is still evident.  The east side is still plainer, more open and modern, while the west side appears to be more traditional and what I would call “western European”.  It may be that the western area was pounded less during WW2 – it may also be that it was restored more quickly as a divided city in the wake of the war and in the image of Paris and London.  I have vague memories of the Berliin Airlift, in which my father was involved – if not from a military angle then from the movement of cargo via airplanes which was his specialty.

Joe ran his best marathon time of 2:54 and Annie ran a splendid first ever race at 4:15.   So proud of them both for their accomplishments, both on the track and off.

As a time traveler, I so enjoyed the feeling of walking through history in Berlin.  As a modern day traveler, I discovered that 1) there is a good coffee shop on every corner, 2) Euros have no bills under 5, and any change less than that is given in coins that all look and weigh the same, 3) all Germans are functional in English; you do need to be able to read the directional signs, 4) I enjoyed one German sausage and sauerkraut meal which was enough for me, 5) walking on cobblestones is tough on the ankles, 6) dine where the “locals” go – the Italian food is the best I’ve ever had. 7) German beer is so much better than the swill produced in America.

I touched the Brandenburg Gate.  Awesome!

After Berlin, we drove to Nurenberg (spelled so many different ways with umlaut).  Located in the heart of Bavaria, Nurenberg is an old medieval city that has been restored since WW2 bombing.  St. Sebald’s Cathedral houses the sarcophagus containing the bones of St. Sebald, the patron saint of Nurenberg, and – so family history says – is my 8th century ancestor.  I have family records of this place.  In-person experiences add so much depth to paper.

We also visited the home of Albrecht Durer, the 15th Century painter and graphic artist.  He lived in Nurenberg and was a member of the St. Sebald congregation.  By the standards of his time, Durer was a very successful artist, sustained mostly by the graphic art business.    Durer didn’t paint often because there was not enough money in it.  Each painting had to be commissioned and this income couldn’t be assured.  It is interesting to note that his father was a jeweler – a progression not unlike Paul Revere.  Both grew up learning the engraving trade from their fathers which the sons turned into another, more lucrative profession as adults.

My heartfelt thanks to Joe and Annie for making this trip possible.  I tried not to slow them up too much!

15 September 2019

We said goodbye to Kay Geddings a week ago on Saturday and to Carol Butler on Thursday.  I was much closer to Carol than Kay, but will miss them both.  Kay for her incredibly funny direct statements (ever the perfectionist!) and Carol for her golden heart.   I asked to speak at the Ashton Gardens service to make sure Jake knew many lives his mother had touched with the Senior Voice.  Jake has his mother’s sweet, trusting disposition.  I plan to write all this up today and deliver it to the house on Daybreak.

All efforts are now pointed to getting ready for the trip to Germany in 10 days.  Still have to pack, but that’s a detail.  There are several projects that need to be completed prior to leaving.   Very busy day in  “the writing chair” today and tomorrow.

3 September 2019

Not only do mistakes happen in threes, but deaths come in multiples as well.  On August 29th, I lost two friends.

One friend was a special person with whom I have spent many enjoyable hours socially.  Kay Geddings was a member of our card long-standing card group.  She had a very pointed and honest wit that I appreciated and was a heck of a good spades partner.  Cancer took her way too soon.

My other friend was a close friend.  I missed Carol Butler the moment I heard the news of her passing.  As it is said, her death was not a surprise, but it is, and continues to be, a shock.   Such a warm, wonderful, creative, lovely woman.   Carol has been my inspiration and spirit guide for many years as I transitioned from another long career into writing full-time.   Cancer took her too.

I imagine my living world as a colorful garden of individuals who are intrinsic parts of my life.  Losing both Kay and Carol on the same day put smudges on the palette where colors were.  They now dwell in the pastel realm of memories.   So sad.

23 August 2019

Mistakes happen in threes.  My written calendar informed me that I had an event this morning at 9am.  So I dressed up and arrived at the venue before 9am to discover that the event was yesterday.  Got the time right at least.   This stupid move follows two others – one where I forgot to write an event on my calendar at all.

What is up with this?  I have many things going on in my life at any given time – lots of details that need follow-up and I don’t miss a beat.  Until I do.

Some of my friends would be concerned that this is an early sign of Alzheimer’s.  Not me.  All my executive functions are fine.  It was just plain sloppy work and I will do better.  A progress report is forthcoming.

31 July 2019

For the past few weeks I’ve been working on a presentation about the 1900 Galveston Hurricane.  The more I read, the more interesting the story becomes.  So many stories to tell and no where near enough time.  The subject is overwhelming on many levels:  I know the ending of the story and don’t see anything  that anyone could have done to have prevented the disaster.  The character of cyclones is still mysterious even today, weather forecasting is still imprecise,  the prevailing hubris of the Guilded Age was baked into the time,  and, of course, anyone who lives near a large body of water like the Gulf will be so accustomed to violent storms that evacuation would not be seriously considered.   As I read the accounts, I want to say, “if only this or that …”, but it’s useless.  The losses wash over me like the advancing Gulf  water in a strong wind.  Entire families washed away.

As if the storm itself wasn’t exhausting, the aftermath must have been even more difficult for survivors.  Most lost everything beyond just lives.  No house, no money, and probably no livelihood.  In many cases, the whole extended family was lost so there is no one to help.  Most houses were not insured.  Relief was not always assured and not as well organized as today.  No “safety net”.  Yes, there was looting and martial law imposed for a time.  Survivors picked up the slack until relief arrived.    Just recalling personal experience with recent  Texas floods, the clean-up is a nasty, smelly mess.  In a time when cremation was not a generally accepted practice, it must have been an especially strange job to burn piles of dead bodies.

How to simplify such a story into 45 minutes?

set the scene

prelude to the storm

storm story

aftermath

meaning

Sounds so easy.  Egad, I’m already up to 30 slides plus a narrative!

24 July 2019

Having read the Mueller Report, the testimony today was mostly a restatement of what is in the report itself.   Two Congressional committees convened to cumulatively provide a punishing 6 hours of cross-examination.  Even a seasoned testimonial veteran such as Robert Mueller will be exhausted by this questioning (and grandstanding by some).   Will it change “hearts and minds” of independent viewers/listeners?  Maybe.

20 July 2019

Today is the 50th Anniversary of the Apollo 11 Moon Landing.   50 years ago I watched this event on television at Dave Seidel’s apartment in Chicago.   It was a “watch party” (although we just called it an informal get-together)  with my husband Steve and a bunch of friends from Leo Burnett.  About 25 of us were gathered tightly around a pretty large television for its time and watched with rapt attention the soft landing on a surface that looked like fireplace ashes, the ladder descent, the first steps, the first words – in fact, the beginning of a whole new chapter in our collective history.  “The U.S. has put men on the moon!  How cool, how GREAT is that?”  Bragging rights for beating the Russians were incidental.  The U.S. was first in the world in virtually everything then – why shouldn’t we be first to put a man on the moon?  I remember this feeling vividly.

With the passage of time comes reflection.  I know what the moon landing meant 50 years ago, but what impact did it have on what followed?   What did the landing mean in historical terms? I have taken time to read several articles on the moon landing and make these observations:

first – President Kennedy was not really interested in the long-term benefits of space travel.  He was mostly interested in beating the Russians to the moon.  For him, it was a competition.  President Johnson, on the other hand, was a “space guy”:  he saw the potential of space exploration.  The reason why this is important is because, if Lyndon Johnson hadn’t succeeded John Kennedy, there is a pretty good chance the landing would not have occurred when and how it did.  The goal was to reach the moon by the end of the decade (1970) – an extremely costly goal.  It took muscle and will to make sure the appropriations were there every year to fund NASA’s work.  Lyndon Johnson – in the midst of a war in southeast Asia – made sure the money was available.  Because the general public was not pushing the issue of space travel, forcing the appropriations was the work of a forceful and effective President and Congress.   Kennedy was the visionary, Johnson made it happen.

second, reaching the moon was a supremely difficult challenge.  Scientists were assembled to solve a million problems – most of which were entirely new.  Computers were rudimentary and took up enormous amounts of space.  No one had been in space before so no one had a clue about how to safely propel a space ship, let alone plan for its return … with humans inside.  On September 12, 1962, President Kennedy said we would put a man on the moon before the decade was over, and no one knew where to start.  We made it possible and we made it happen.

third, many of the final Apollo 11 products were fabricated by hand – the modules, the computer, the space suits – were patched and sewn together by skilled seamstresses.   Impressive.

most important: this moon landing ushered in the digital age.  1969 was the year the ARPANET was introduced and the year of the first email transmission.  The Apollo 11 mission was the first flight where the safety of the crew was entrusted completely to a computer.  The July 20th moon landing was  “the event of the century” all right.  It was the beginning of everything that has followed.  It was the culmination of Orville and Wilbur Wright’s first flight on the Outer Banks and the beginning of the digital age as we know it.

9 July 2019

It’s more difficult to type with a thumb brace on my right hand.  Arthritis has found a new home at the base of my thumb and in the first joint of my index finger.  Painful at times, but manageable enough with Salon Pas or CBD Oil.  (There is no acceptable surgical option.for pain relief). The thumb brace actually helps if I have chores to do, as it keeps me from putting pressure on the inflamed joint.  The brace is cumbersome while writing, typing or doing needlework, but I’m getting used to it.  For someone who is so right-handed that the left hand is only for show,  part of the adaptation is shifting more work to the left side.   Awkward.

The 4th of July weekend was quiet and very productive.  Per my usual holiday plan, I made a list of projects to complete.  As I get older, I am less inclined to keep stuff if I don’t ever use it.  I’ve filled two trash bags so far and have several items for the thrift shop.  I re-stained and applied polyurethane  to the wooden stairs (they look so good!) and cleaned out the pantry closet which included hanging shelves for food staples.  My office is clean, all files have been located and reviewed.  Only the clothes closet didn’t get sorted – another day.

On the 4th of July I celebrated by painting the fireplace, covering the natural brick with white to match the walls.  Loved the brick – it really was a lovely color – but it made the far end of the living room so dark.  The white paint makes such a huge difference for the better.

Not to bore the reader with chores, but I am rather proud of myself.  No wonder my thumb hurts.

29 June 2019

While writing the 6/27 blog, I decided to research the year 1969 a little further.

Much has been written about the year prior – 1968 – Nixon’s election, assassinations aplenty – but the year following is equally as important for its multiple “turning points” and “firsts” and notable occurrences.  Note that I am not elaborating on each one because they speak for themselves.  For example:  “Woodstock”.  It is said, “if you remember Woodstock, then you weren’t there”.  Well, I wasn’t there.  It was notable.  

Starting with the Jets beating the Colts in the Super Bowl – a “first” – 1969 also featured the Stonewall riots, Rupert Murdoch purchased “The News of the World”, the first Boeing 747 flight, John Lennon’s marriage to Yoko Ono, Prince Charles became the Prince of Wales, the debuts of “Sesame Street” and  “Scooby Doo”, the Manson murders, Woodstock, multiple fast food introductions (Wendy’s, Captain D;s, Long John Silvers, Arthur Treacher’s Fish & Chips), the My Lai massacre, Apollo 11 moon landing, Willie Mays hit his 600th home run & Pele scored his 1000th goal, Chappaquiddick,  first U.S. draft lottery since WWII, the first automatic teller machine installed, the HIV virus arrived from Haiti to claim its first U.S. victim, and the introduction of ARPANET – the basis for today’s internet.

Beside the debut of the ARPANET, the July 20th Moon Landing is widely considered “the event of the twentieth century”.  Both in the same year: 1969.

It was  the same glorious year I set sail from the safe shores of my birth family into the working world and the newly married – meanwhile, absorbing these events like moon dust on my hands.  It was such as exciting time of milestones and beginnings.

27 June 2019

Today is the 50th anniversary of my marriage to Stephen Nienaber.  On this occasion, I celebrate our three sons and their families, and some wonderful memories.

1969 was a pivotal year for me.  I watched the NY Jets win the first AFC Super Bowl title against the (then) Baltimore Colts at Bill Welter’s home; graduated from college in June, married later the same month, and witnessed the July moon landing with Steve at Dave Seidel’s apartment in Chicago.  All seismic events in a short life.

It has been a great ride ever since.  No regrets.  Only reflections.

12 May 2019

Happy Mother’s Day to current and former caregivers everywhere!

17 March 2019

Facebook is an interesting place.  I read all sort of things that are at times elegant, at times very smart, and at others, extremely funny.  Here is an elegant item:

The Universal rules of Morality

Help your family

Help your group (I presume this means “community”)

Return favors

Be brave

Defer to superiors

Divide resources fairly

Respect other people’s property

Would add “be resilient” to  “be brave”.  You never know what life will throw at you.

“Deferring to superiors” would be a problem because people have to earn that status with me.  I can defer to someone who is older and listen carefully for wise words – but bullshit has no age limit and elders can be crazy and dumb both.  There are also adults a lot younger than me that I will listen to because they really make sense (my sons, for example).  My rule is to meet people where they are regardless of age.  Understand that they have a story to tell and bring their baggage with them.

In terms of “returning favors”, I prefer to be grateful and “acknowledge favors”, but not necessarily “return them”.  I like to “pay it forward”.  Life isn’t always fair and it is not possible to always have an even exchange of favors.  My philosophy is to not dwell on past wrongs (from others or myself), but to do favors out of an obligation to help the next guy if you can.  If you extend kindness, it comes back in unexpected ways.  So, “returning favors” is not a tit-for-tat exchange:  it is a way of living in the present by helping others.

It is important to acknowledge one’s mistakes and to always try to do better.  Every day is a do-over.  Forgiving yourself and others provides tremendous relief, and the energy to go forward.

My grandmother’s sampler reads:

“My rule is to go straight forward in doing what appears to be right at the time fearing no consequences”.

Good words to live by.

7 February 2019

More tax work this morning, but nearing completion.  I wonder if I will be as surprised by the results as pundits say?

I sit on two non-profit organization boards of directors, both of which are having funding difficulties.  Some tough decisions are looming for both.   There are too many NPO’s and too few people with money to support them.   Non-profits begin with a vision – a mission to do something for issues, society or living creatures.  I look around at the proliferation of very small non-profits who have no clue how to sustain the operation needed to achieve the mission, often accompanied by well-intentioned founders who don’t know when or how to step back.  These folks mean well, but their mission would be better served by contributing to and volunteering with an existing NPO that does close to the same thing.  There is too much overlap of services in the non-profit world among big and small players.

Then there are ridiculous non-profits like the NFL that, by all rights, should be paying  taxes.  An overhaul of tax law is needed to redefine classifications and perhaps limit NPO formation.  More Congressional hearings on impact.  This issue will attract many lobbyists who want to maintain the NPO status of their clients.

As a board member, it is our fiduciary responsibility to evaluate problems and decide on a path forward.  Easy enough to enjoy the status of being a board member when there is plenty of money.  Sometimes it means hard financial decisions.

4 February 2019

Back to warm weather – thank you!  So welcome after last week’s Arctic blast.

It has been a busy month of meetings, tax work, writing and painting.

Taxes – so time-consuming to get ready.  This year, the rules are different so I have to be flexible about how I spread out the expenses.  I’m about 50% done.

Last Thanksgiving I painted the built-in bookshelf a lovely shade of green.  Sage is the color – mostly green with a blue tint.  I liked it so much I keep painting:  first, the second bookshelf, then the half wall along the hallway, then the Rogue’s Gallery wall in the upstairs hall, then the far wall in my bedroom and now the far wall in my office.  I have just half the wall in the office to go.  When complete, I will ascend the stairs and I will see this lovely shade of green in both directions.  Very soothing color.  Makes me go “ahhhh” each time I look.

Writing is such fun.  I write pithy notes on Facebook – not just posts, but responses to others’ posts.  Emails, blogs and general projects.  Tomorrow I’m meeting someone whose mother worked in the French underground during WWII.  Could really get into that project!

2 January 2019

The holiday was memorable in a happy way – mostly.  I did trade in the 2013 Prius V for a 2019 Subaru Forester – a decision I am thrilled with; traveled to St. Louis to visit my son and family who are in the throes of moving to another house 15 miles from their current home; and am now back home reorganizing and planning for 2019.  Although everyone else is back at work today, there is little going on this week.  It’s quiet, allowing for the rest of us to catch our breath from repacking the holiday decorations.

My son’s family experienced the intestinal flu sequentially:  first, the 6-year-old, then the Mom, then the Dad, then the 9-year-old.  Every 3 days, one of them was down for the count.  So far, I haven’t heard of the other two boys catching it.  And, so far, I haven’t caught it.  Fortunately, I seldom get these bugs, but it’s not without some precedent.

Their new home will be lovely when it’s completely done.  Major renovations and my son’s “OCD” fixer-upper personality have slowed the moving process.  He has primed all the walls (the former owner was a smoker), removed all the tile flooring from the lower floor area (I’m guessing, about 1500 square feet) with a jack hammer, followed by leveling the area prior to installing carpeting.  Except for the carpeting, he has done all this himself.   When I left, the kitchen was not functional (no appliances, counters or lower cabinetry), and the closets had no shelving.  That was on 12/28.  They have to be out of their current home by 1/7.  Fortunately, my daughter-in-law is a master of organization.  With all the kids in school and able to help after hours, everything will get done – that is, if everyone stays healthy.  Chaos will reign for a couple of months no matter how well organized they are.

I am not a resolution sort of person – rather a “task-oriented” person.  I have a 2019 check-list of things I want to get done this year.

Books:  Lonesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry and Grant, by Ron Chernow

Finish Annie’s Christmas stocking

Learn to crochet

Re-cane the rocking chair

Health-watch efforts – more on this later

Both books listed are really long and will take me awhile.  For an English major, I am the slowest reader I know.  Naming these books does not count the numerous shorter books I finish during the year – about 30 or so.  I keep a journal of the books I read every year.

I’ve done petit point, enbroidery, cross stitch, knitting, etc. since I was a small child.  Love doing it, but it is getting harder.  Although not technically “arthritic”, my hands do ache after spending several hours at petit point.  Annie’s stocking is similar to the ones made for my other two daughters-in-law – very intricate and colorful, although the themes are different.  The number of hours on each one is immeasurable.  They are works of art when finished.  My mother made needlepoint stockings for each of my children when they were little, not nearly as detailed as the ones I’ve sewn for their wives.  These stockings are my gift to them with much love.  So, I barely started Annie’s stocking in 2018 and aim to complete it this year.

The one needle art I’ve never mastered is crochet.  I bought a handmade hook at a Christmas Fair this year and plan to learn this art.  I also aim to finish caning the rocking chair given to me many years ago.  In a city as large as Dallas, you would think I could find someone who re-canes chairs – but no luck, so I will have to do it myself.

Health Watch:  that’s a bit less defined.  I have no health issues to speak of and take no medication.  I am overweight by a lot, however, and the pounds are putting pressure on my system.  The current plan is to accompany my youngest son and wife to Germany later this year which gives me a measurable goal date.  After spending time with my old friend Judy, I’ve determined to adhere to the Keto diet.  We’ll see how this progresses.  Stay tuned.

I wish everyone a 2019 filled with success, happiness and good health.

13 December 2018

I’m thinking of buying another car.  My life is transitioning now from a working life to a non-working life and my car needs are changing.  Dallas is not a city that features accessible public transportation (unless your apartment and job happen to be adjacent to the DART tracks or within walking distance of each other);  I still have many commitments around the city and am building my business, too.  So, I still need reliable, affordable point-to-point transportation, but don’t need a commuting or “sales” vehicle.   What I need is a car that sits higher and is more suitable for long distance road travel.   The selection process is really stressful!

22 November 2018

A work day for me, but in a fun way.  I painted the bookshelves in my office.  “Fun” you ask?  Let me explain.

When the boys were growing up, they were often away at their Dad’s during the Holidays.  Not wanting to intrude on anyone else’s family time, I would plan to do something that I really wanted to do and could accomplish by myself.   Sometimes it was an art project, sometimes painting a room.  One year I climbed Kennesaw Mountain by myself (lived in Atlanta at the time).

I have been looking at those bookshelves in my office since moving into my townhouse 18 months ago.  Dark gray with wood trim.  Not only unattractive, but dreary.   So I went to Ace Hardware, selected several paint chips within the color range I envisioned, and chose my favorite – a light teal that is almost a dark aqua.   The wood trim is also gone – covered by the same antique white as rest of the woodwork.   I’m very pleased with my work, although I have to admit to taking an Aleve!

In between, I prepared an abbreviated feast – turkey, dressing, gravy, cranberries, fried green beans with almonds, pumpkin pie with real whipped cream (which I am feasting on as I write this blog).

The high point of the day was talking to my oldest son who is traveling the inland waterway now.   I am very grateful for all my children, their families and all my good friends.  We walk this life essentially alone, as I am today;  I cherish their presence around me and am grateful they are doing so well.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

12 November 2018

A fractured memory of a story from many years ago kept surfacing:  there was a projected image that covered the whole wall of a home (as in a very large television set) and a man running away to the river.

In recent years, my reading list has included books I’ve always wanted to read, but never got around to (as an English major, this isn’t an unusual story – we have to read so much that some genres get missed altogether).  One category of reading with which I’ve had little interaction is Science Fiction.  Recently I read the “Martian Chronicles” – liked it so much I sent it to my teenage grandson.  Having seen Michael Moore’s movie “Fahrenheit 11-9”, I picked up a copy of “Fahrenheit 451” for which his movie was named.

What a surprise to rediscover Guy Montag – and the full-wall television screen – and the man running to the river.  I must have read this book one summer eons ago, had no recollection of the title,  except for the wall and escaping to the river that has floated in my memory ever since.

A reading serendipity.  Also a cautionary tale that has relevance to present day.  We now have full-wall projections plus virtual reality.  No book burnings, but certainly freedom of the press is under assault.  Interesting.

5 November 2018

Under the heading  “from the frying pan into the fire” comes the holiday season.  Wreaths are up on commercial buildings and holiday decorations align the retail shelves.  Just as we loaded our trash barrel with campaign literature, the holiday catalogues arrive.   Recycling never had it so good.

31 October 2018

Halloween!  I still have the costumes sewn for my kids.  After each Halloween, I kept the costumes in a dress-up box which was frequently used on cold, wet winter days when outside play was impossible.

I wish the citizens in Pittsburgh could enjoy what is supposed to be a fun day for all ages.  These folks are wearing costumes nonetheless – aiming to hide in plain sight from the gunners who would do them harm while mourning for those they’ve lost.

My childhood was spent in a “waspy” environment.  The high school I attended was majority Jewish so I learned a lot about their traditions and levels of religious observance.  Some were very devout and others put up Christmas trees and ate ham.  Growing up, I learned that, like all religions and nationalities – later, even the LGBTQ community – there is a wide spectrum to each “tribe”.   That defines me still as a “wasp”, but one who understands that others come from different places than I have and I have met them in the middle somewhere.   They can be as they are and we can co-exist.  It’s an understanding that others don’t have to look like me, believe what I believe or necessarily agree with everything I say.   I don’t have to dress up in a costume to be accepted either.

My sympathies go to these Pittsburgh folks.  I am sitting shiva with you.

30 October 2018

The joys of home ownership are sullied by water leaks.  My townhouse dates from the 1970’s:  in Texas terms, this is the olden days.  The owners who immediately preceded me were “do-it-yourselfers”.  The Rube Goldberg contraptions they rigged were only short-term fixes.  Last year, I found one of these over the dining room ceiling.  They left a tupper ware bowl sitting under the water pipe for me to discover months after moving in.  Three weeks ago, a leak developed in the garage.  Upon close examination, another temporary patch was discovered under the ceiling tile.  The drywall slop that dropped from the ceiling on my car like a pterodactyl had flown over it and pooped generously.

Last week’s water saga is the one leak that doesn’t appear to be a “patch & run” job.  This leak came from the skylight, and is a function of the downpours North Texans endured for five straight days.  All three skylights need patching due to age/heat/wear, etc.  And so we patch and hope this will arrest the flow when it rains tomorrow.   Fingers crossed while the bucket and galvanized pan are ready just in case.

Of all the joyful aspects of home ownership, discovering shoddy repairs left for the next guy deflates my mood.

13 October 2018

It rained very hard all morning and into the afternoon.  It’s Saturday … a lot of errands to run.  My thoughts turned to the Alzheimer’s Walk taking place in downtown Dallas this morning where everyone was sure to be soaked to the skin. With lightening and thunder heavily featured, today’s weather has been the worst possible for an outdoor event.  I’m glad my Grandscape Alzheimer’s Walk was two weeks ago.

Mid-afternoon, the rain stopped long enough to get out of the house.   I pushed the button that magically raises the garage door, got in the car and backed it out.  When I pushed the button the close the garage door, nothing happened.  Again and again.  Muttering under my breath, I parked the car and went in the front door to push the garage door button from the inside.  Nothing.  Noticed the kitchen light was out.  Sometime between when I raised the garage door and backed out, the power went off.  Circuit breaker is on – must be a neighborhood black out.   The garage door is wide open.  Can’t leave it this way.

Having often wondered what I would do if the power to the garage door went out, this problem gave me a perfect opportunity to find out when – for once – I was not in a hurry to get somewhere.  Found the release and down the door went manually.  I left for just over an hour and returned to lights on in the house.  According to the clocks, power was out for about 75 minutes.  I raised the garage door and reconnected it to the linkage.  Worked just like it should.

A good day.

7 October 2018

Note to the file:  June 4, 2019 will mark the 100th anniversary of the 19th Amendment – passed on 6/4/1919 and ratified on 8/18/1920.  Not in time for the first statewide vote on Senators and not in time to change the distribution of Congressmen, but right afterward.  We need to celebrate early by voting on November 6th.

19 August 2018

Let’s celebrate life today.  Recently I’ve lost some good friends and relatives-of-friends.   In one day, I wrote three condolence notes.  Last week I discovered a dear friend has cancer and is not expected to live more than two more years.  Tomorrow is not promised – yes – so let’s celebrate this day.

31 May 2018

My, my.  Time does fly by.  Since this last post, The Senior Voice has ceased operation, my base of operations has moved to a lovely town home, and I am not working full time right now.  At a “fork in the road” on that subject.  I have a lifetime of words that are bubbling to the surface like the Hawaiian volcano.  Whole 30 for June?  Not sure I can do without the occasional glass of wine.

7 September 2015

Labor Day is supposed to be a holiday and I’m certainly laboring.  I’m writing pieces for The Senior Voice.  My word count is a bit high, but editing down will remove some of the charm. Pieces need some phrases that aren’t exactly factual, but enhance the parts that are. In days of old, the Normans would let God decide these things by putting the writer through one of four ordeals:  trial by fire is my personal favorite.  If the burns don’t heal and the writer dies, then God means I should have edited the piece.

Weather reports say that cooler weather is on its way.  We have actually had a mild summer by Texas standards:  only 15 days over 100 degrees.  Some summers have had three times that many.  It was so cool in May that my Fall mums bloomed!  So this year will be memorable in that these same mums are going to bloom a second time.  They are in flower yet again.  I’ve seen azaleas bloom twice in one year, but never mums.  It’s a miracle.  I do love my flowers.

19 August 2015

It is August 19th – St. Sebald’s Feast Day.  How many among us can say they are descended from a saint? Not many, I reckon – but I can.

St. Sebaldus was a holy man and missionary who lived in the wild Franconia forests near Nuremberg (Nurnberg).  Some legends say he lived in the 8th Century, others in the 11th Century.  Some accounts say he was the son of the King of Denmark, was married, later visited Rome and was charged by the Pope with evangelizing in Germany.

Despite St. Sebald’s obscure provenance, he was evidently very successful in healing the sick and converting sinners from evil ways.  The Dark Ages were a time when all natural phenomena could be seen as signs from God, and religion played a central role in everyday life.  I have a lengthy description of his miracles as translated by a distant Sebald relative.  They all deal with conversions and healing.

Four of these are listed on his silver sarcophagus:

1)  The Doubting Peasant Flies – among the populace, there was one peasant who doubted St. Sebald, saying, “I will fly in the air if this man can perform the miracles he claims”.  Suddenly, the peasant rose slowly into the air like a cloud.  Very frightened, he asked the Saint for forgiveness.  As everyone in the crowd fell to their knees in prayer, St. Sebald raised his arms and asked heaven for the peasant to be forgiven.  The peasant floated slowly down to earth.

2)   The Earth Swallows up the Doubter – another peasant doubted St. Sebald’s miracles.  The earth opened up and the peasant sank until only his neck was above the ground.  Insects and lizards crawled over the man’s face until he cried out in agony for forgiveness.  St. Sebald saw that the man was truly sorry and asked God to open the earth around the man so that he could be free.

The Holy Many Burns Icicles – after a long period of prayer and fasting, St. Sebald visited a nearby town and asked for lodging and some wood for the fire. The proprietor told St. Sebald that he had no wood and the holy man should burn icicles instead for warmth.  Sebald went outdoors, gathered armloads of icicles, put them in the stove and lighted the fire.  He and his fellow holy men warmed their hands with the fire made from ice.  The proprietor fell on his knees and professed his faith upon seeing this miracle.

The Forbidden Fish Purchase – St. Sebald visited a friend one day. The friend went to the market to buy fish for dinner.  In those days, one could be punished severely for purchasing fish before the king bought what he wanted.  Sebald’s friend had his eyes gouged out as punishment and became blind.   Upon seeing his friend weeping in agony, St. Sebald fell on his knees in prayer for his friend to be healed.  Soon, his friend was able to see again.

He was declared a saint by Pope Martin V on 26 March 1425 and his feast day was designated as August 19th.

I have legions of Sebald relatives who have this holy man to thank for being descended from a little piece of history.  We are not miracle workers or even especially holy, but enjoy knowing that we have an ancestor who was both of these.  It’s a great reason to celebrate August 19th – to be descended from a real saint.

25 July 2015

Note to self – do not try to park your car at the Shops at Legacy after 5pm.  The valet companies take all the available spaces.

13 July 2015

Summer has finally arrived in Texas.  Nudging close to 100 degrees outside, we can say that it is here at last.  Break out the iced tea and cold lemonade.  Shop early in the morning or later in the evening.  Look for higher energy bills.  Water the outside plants often and in the evening so the moisture will soak in.  And forget trying to grow tomatoes.

For all the discomfort of Texas summers, there is the payoff of great springtimes, long falls and relatively mild winters.  I’m not looking back to northern weather with any fondness.

28 June 2015

It is amazing how time flies.  One out-of-town trip and much activity in between posts. This week has been momentous. Even though there are several other projects that require my attention, this week cannot pass without entry.

First, the Confederate Battle Flag may now finally be headed to the museum where it belongs.  For me personally, it is an emblem of my southern heritage.  The flag has always been there, like a southern accent, a decoration, a colorful reminder of a key transition in US history.  For many, however, the flag has other, more sinister, connotations, and continues to be a convenient rallying symbol for those who have not finished fighting against perceived outside aggression. Old habits die hard.  It’s time to come together and stop fighting this war and all its permutations.  The Emanuel AME Church is showing us the way.

Second, the first of two far-reaching Supreme Court decisions. The Affordable Care Act, in principal, triumphs over those who would eliminate it. This is not a decision where moral ‘right’ wins over ‘wrong’, but is a matter of legal intention and practicality.  I’ve heard the ACA referred to as ‘Byzantine’ – maybe so – but it was cobbled together to achieve a justifiable end which is to provide citizens with accessible and affordable health insurance. It’s use should be promoted and improved, not dashed on the rocks.  No meaningful legislation, including the formation of the Constitution, has been accomplished with complete consensus.  The Affordable Care Act is no exception.

Third, and by no means least, is the affirmation of same-sex marriage by the Supreme Court.  This is cause for celebration!  My LGBT friends can finally be counted as full legal US citizens.  Beyond the human aspect, this momentous decision is an affirmation of the separation between church and state on which this country is founded.  Some interpret the “One nation under God” as fusing civil law with biblical law.  LGBT rights are a civil matter apart from anyone’s personal religious beliefs. Frankly, it just feels right that this matter is settled in this way.  Let’s mainstream it fully and move on to other critical matters.

The Supreme Court has been used many times to make decisions that should be handled by the Congress.  Congress hasn’t been able to destroy the ACA through the legislative branch, so they moved key parts of it through the court system.   The Supreme Court decisions shifted both issues right back where they belonged in the first place – in the Legislative branch of the US government where, theoretically, laws are made.

A great week indeed.

22 April 2015

It’s mid-week and there is nothing in particular going on today.  How nice!  Most week days are early rise, early departure, must be here and there with little time to spare and, often, an eveing meeting somewhere.  The loose time constraints of this day have been delicious.  Yes, I prepared a list of everything I need to accomplish (this list is quite long), checked most of them and can now write about how nice this day has been.  I am grateful for these random days.

19 April 2015

Too much on my plate these days.  While the children were growing up, there was no time for very much that interested me.  Work, cook, clean and see to their needs.  Once they left, I started pursuing non-profit work that interested me.  Now I am on three boards of directors with positions that carry weekly responsibility – and cook, clean and run the house sans children.  After all the years of relying on those wonderful stay-at-home Moms to do the chores I didn’t have time to do as a working mother, I am grateful for the opportunity to give back to my community.  Making up for lost time does get ponderous sometimes.  Today is a beautiful day, for example, and I’ve had too many things to do to enjoy the blissful Spring weather.  I guess I’ll just have to take a break and enjoy the moment.