Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's dark and gloomy, and we're awaiting the onslaught of the rain.  No complaints, mind you, as we desperately need it, but already our grandson's birthday party has been changed to their home instead of the park, and I didn't visit my friend this morning as I'd hoped to do.  My husband and I are going to see the Mr. Rogers movie this afternoon, as it's only four blocks away and we can walk with our umbrellas.  Yesterday I felt ragged, but I went to bed last night at 8:30, and had a hot shower this morning, and I'm more energetic.  My friend and I at lunch yesterday discussed a mutual friend with alcohol problems.  This is not a new thing, but it's been getting worse, and she has falls that leave her bruised.  Her situation is painfully remniscent of my brother's drinking years, and his gashes and wounds from falling.  My father and I finally got him into a treatment center that worked, and he was sober his last three plus decades.  My mother also broke her arm falling, and a vertabrae another, due to her drinking.  I've had "the talk" with my friend, and now I trust her loving family will see her into treatment.  I know they are trying.  For me, I no longer have any delusions that I can "fix her", and she, like most alcoholics I've been around, is full of rage underneath and can be mean.  I can choose not to be the person she projects onto, and take care of and value myself.  I pray for her.  But rescue is not possible.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a girly day today with a friend.  We saw the movie "KnivesOut" and had lunch.  The film was a lot of fun, and the actors were obviously having a ball.  It's awfully long, and added onto a million previews, swallowed up most of the day.  My friend and I caught up with each other's holiday and our lives, and it felt good to be out and about, especially as the next week is forecast as nothing but rain.  We need it and want it, but still...  We've had it usually cold for us, and it's not going to warm up anytime soon.  This morning my husband and I returned to our daughter's house for breakfast, and saw more of two of our grandsons.  Our son-in-law made a post Thanksgiving hash for breakfast, and we had jello salad and tapioca as well.  Why not?  It tis the season.  Now I must return to sensible eating, before I blow up like a balloon.  But it's fun to break the eating rules once in a while, and have TWO HELPINGS.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Ah, what luxury!  We got up late, had waffles for breakfast, and attempted to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, but the commercials, the musical numbers, the chatter overwhelmed the occasional glimpses of the floats and balloons, so we quit that and went for a walk in the very cold for us brisk day.  We aren't known for our fall color here, but this year it has been spectacular, and so the scenery was delightful.  I feel so grateful for my life, my family, my friends.  I'm missing my daughter and granddaughter and my younger son, his wife, and their baby, but I know they are surrounded by love where they are.  It's also my middle grandson's birthday, he's three today, and he has been a blessing, as they all have.  So it's double joy today.  I've talked to some friends on the phone, texted others, and feel strongly connected.  I pray for all sentient beings, that they not suffer, and feel love. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I am a lucky duck.  Thanksgiving this year is at our daughter's house, and I was delegated to bring jello salad and cranberry sauce.  But I couldn't leave well enough alone.  I had seen a recipe for pumpkin rolls, and I decided to make them.  I began the process hopefully.  Then I needed whole milk, and went to the store for that.  Then my yeast was the wrong kind, I needed instant yeast.  Who knew there was such a thing?  I had baked four little pumpkins the night before, so I had my puree already ready, except there were seeds hiding that I picked out.  The dough in the mixer was sticky, but what was too sticky and did I need to add flour?  I flung in a couple of spoonfuls.  When I went to transfer the dough to the buttered bowl, it stuck nicely to my hands, but would not remove itself properly.  I draped plastic wrap over the bowl, after washing my sticky hands for five minutes, and waited.  It was supposed to double in size after 1 1/2 hours.  But no.  Two hours go by, three, four.  Finally, I give up and at eight pm cut and roll the dough into balls.  It has to rise again.  Luckily, by this time the room temperature had risen due to the oven being preheated for multiple hours, so by 9:30 I decided the dough was risen enough, at least for me to get to bed at a reasonable hour, and I slid the pan in the oven, set the timer, and with no hope whatsoever, went upstairs to finish watching "Rampage", with an oversized gorilla, wolf and crocodile.  I felt rampagey, let me tell you.  The smell wafting upstairs was encouraging, and when the timer dinged, and rushed downstairs and discovered the rolls looked decent, despite my forgetting to brush them with egg white and poppy seeds.  I was way past the niceties.  My husband complimented me, and I replied, if I ever decide to bake bread again, remind me I have sworn off the whole enterprise.  Now, wrapped in aluminum foil, the rolls away reheating tomorrow. Me?   I'm not sure I can even look at them again.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, I'm exhausted, but my cuddlebug grandson has been reclaimed by his parents this morning.  I immediately went into a frenzy and hit the post office, bookstore, etc then washing the sheets, straightening up the house and treating myself to a sandwich while I read The New Yorker.  My neighbor brought over my Christmas cards which had arrived at his house by mistake, and I organized the kitchen and was torn between napping and calling friends.  I'm running out of steam, but have a walk scheduled with a friend where we'll get coffee, which may perk me up.  Last night I heard my grandson downstairs while he was looking for his firetruck, and he announced he'd cleaned up the living room.  Turns out he threw all the toys in a pile next to the sofa.  He was very proud of himself.  I'm wondering if his mother had warned him to clean up the toys, and he did it by having a pile three feet high.  It's true, technically, they were not all over the rug.  It looked like a tornado had done a great job of clearing the space, but at some cost to the materials flung.  Such is a toddler's logic.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We took our grandson to a birthday party yesterday and the birthday girl performed "Let it Go" from Frozen, of course.  I've heard tiny girls screaming it in the neighborhood for years, and this three year old had a blue shiny frozen dress, a crown, and yes, she was cute as a button, but I had hard thoughts about Disney.  Very hard thoughts.  I don't like the film, and I don't believe for a minute kids get the messages from it that adults like to fantasize about.  I had a sweep of gratitude that our three young grandsons will embrace construction trucks and dinosaurs instead, and relief that the one about to be born is also a boy.  That's unfair, as our eleven year old granddaughter had the princess thing, then the fairy thing going on, and she sang all the Mary Poppins songs endlessly, and she turned out just fine.  But my foster granddaughter, at fourteen, is still emeshed in beauty and clothes and makeup and running her hands through her waist length strawberry blond hair.  She will turn out all right as well, but that is after a few years of rampant narcissism.  Disney doesn't help, and targeting preschool innocents is just plain wrong.  When we took our granddaughter to Disneyland three years ago we saw ten thousand little girls dressed as Elsa, and one Anna.  They all voted for the platinum blond braid and shimmery outfits.  I bought Mickey's sorcerer's hat for myself, and luckily, our granddaughter did not get with the program.  She had already chosen a Hogwart's cape at Universal Studios.  I know, there will be a lot of Harry Potters coming up in our family, but that I can tolerate.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We took our three year old grandson to a birthday party in a park today, and they had musical instruments out for the children to use.  He picked up a harmonica, and began playing, swaying his body, and singing as well, like a tiny Bob Dylan.  I was surprised, but managed to get part of it on video.  I don't know if it was a fluke or he has a gift.  I know he's particular about the music he listens to, and has requests (demands) about what is played.  He loves African music, and driving beats.  Later the birthday girl got up on the outdoor stage and danced to the infamous "Frozen" song, and sang along at the end, but my grandson actually just privately made up a song, a rhythm and some words.  These little things in life delight me, and what's inside of a person, even a very little person, is beautiful and unique.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We took our almost three year old grandson to see a show about Burning Man at the Oakland Museum of California.  I mean, we had no idea if he'd last two seconds.  But we were clever.  First we spent a long time looking at the koi in the pond, then four herons, and turtles sunning themselves.  Then we watched him climb the redwood burl structure for quite a few minutes and two diaper changes.  Then we had lunch, or rather, we ate and he mostly wallowed on the floor with his stuffed snake Bow.  He'd had too many snacks at the pond to be much interested in his grilled cheese  sandwich.  Before we went in, him protesting, I said he could get something at the gift shop afterward.  Bribery is a handy tool.  But he loved the show, especially climbing on a big truck with a minature movie theater with seats and a film running, and a ceiling display of imagery that was beautiful and involved jellyfish, snowflakes, water lilies and psychedelic colors.  There were two giant trees that changed colors and opened and closed their tops like umbrellas.  He arranged soft pillows in the area of the ceiling videos, and lay back and watched, fascinated.  Now he's napping, having exhausted himself culturally, and I am able to blog.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went to the pediatrician with my daughter-in-law yesterday, and it was a nice time to chat and get to know each other a bit better.  Usually, it's all about instructions for my grandson, and rushing off to work.  Her mother has a medical problem and has already had other serious problems, so she's worried about her, but luckily will see her next week, when she, my son and the baby fly there for Thanksgiving.  The wheezing sound my grandson was making turned out not to be in his lungs, but I assured her that it's always worth checking, and you never know what is serious or not.  Wheezing sounds scary.  I remember croup, and how terrifying it was when my kids had it.  These little beings are so fragile, and the responsibility so great, that just having some moral support is important.  I'm impressed she let me come with her.  First she said no, but then changed her mind at the last minute.  I, too, have no trouble helping people but lots of difficulty asking for help.  I knew the effort it took for her to ask.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We're about to embark on an epic journey:  babysitting our three year old grandson for five nights and four days.  His parents are going to a destination wedding, and he gets us.  We are worried about his adjustment, our potential lack of sleep, meltdowns, etc, but he is very comfortable with us and hopefully he'll feel safe and distracted.  I did this with our granddaughter when she was his age, but this guy is more sensitive and has trouble with transitions.  I've stocked provisions like little rolls with chocolate chips in them, blackberries, strawberries, tiny ice cream cones, and other goodies.  I have a couple of new toys and new playdough.  We will have to see how he feels, be flexible and for backup we have Curious George DVDs.  Wish us luck!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I today survived an attack of smoke detector alarm siege.  As I was babysitting my 6 month old grandson, around nine am, I thought I heard a car alarm go off.  Two hours later, as the noise was getting on my last nerve, despite the doors and windows being shut, the doorbell rang and a neighbor appeared, saying the sound was coming from the other duplex.  I said I didn't know who lived there, I was babysitting for my son and daughter-in-law, but I would email them and see if they could contact him.  So I did, and they only had the guy's email, but they said they could contact the landlord for his number if necessary.  More beeping ensued, and it was not until over two hours later than the man came back from his job in the city and turned it off.  I apologized, but said I hadn't wanted to bother him, but if the neighbors were frustrated, they might call the police or fire department.  He was very nice.  I said I'd checked for smoke smell, but I also knew a fire could begin from electrical elements, it had happened to me, so it was good he'd come back.  The silence was so soothing, and my grandson, who had been fussy all morning, seemed happier as well, though, luckily, in his room, with the sound machine and the fan on, he had been able to take his naps.  But maybe it rattled him too.  I feel slightly shredded, but grateful the guy came home, the amazingly irritating sound ceased, and there was no fire.  And now I'm at home in my blissfully quiet house, relishing the peace.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I listened to my Buddhist teacher's dharma talk yesterday, in which he said the root of all unhappiness is wanting to control things.  He compared us to bubbles in the water or the dew drops.  We would think it laughable that a bubble could control the river or ocean.  The bubble arises, bursts and is gone.  Trying to control things is something that often occurs when we've been traumatized.  Our fear makes us fight to control our lives, when letting go and just seeing what happens works to relieve our stress and frees us up to enjoy what life brings us, and when we can't, know that everything is always changing and we will move on from that bad moment if we allow it, instead of having a stranglehold on pain that we won't let go.  I thought about some traumatic events in my own life, and how, when I think back, I'm surprised to find I've let go and the story has no hold over me anymore.  I have no regrets, and everything that has happened to me has given me this life that I feel is blessed.  I'm trying to enjoy the ride, and not worry about the inevitable ending. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night my friend and I went to a reading of Judith Small's book of poems, "Second Tongue".  She is a translator for people seeking asylum in the U.S.  The poems are sensitive, sad and illuminating.  Half of the proceeds from the sale of her book will go to asylum seekers.  We were surprised by the poems' power and touched by the service Ms. Small does for people fleeing terror and death.  We have a president who has zero compassion for or understanding of these peoples' lives.  We are turning away people who have nowhere to turn.  Our open arms have become weapons to strike down the vulnerable.  I pray something changes soon in our White House.  The damage on so many fronts is great.  We need to all speak up and insist we embrace our former kinder policies and principles.  It's too late for many, but not for the many to come.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I have a busy weekend with friends.  I need it.  I love the grandkids, but I need adult time as well.  It's kind of gloomy today, so laughing with friends will brighten up my world.  Yesterday, though, our three year old grandson cheered us up at lunch, as he was eating his mac-n-cheese.  He asked about our red maples, and why the leaves were falling off, and then he wished he had a red tree at home, and then after I described how new leaves would pop on the trees in the spring he announced spring was beautiful, and there would be lots of flowers and everything would be beautiful.  His interest in trees has always been intense, and his pleasure from growing plants is a joy to us.  So maybe this weekend won't be as bright as yesterday.  But it will be different.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend is worried about her mother, who at 96 is now showing signs of slow down or perhaps a need for hospice.  She is taking her to the doctor, and depending on the information, may be making some hard choices about easing her mother into passing.  Her mother is ready to go, but has an indomitable body that won't quit.  My friend is checking out how to get her mother's body to New York, when she dies, in the time frame of the Jewish tradition, and where to sit shiva there.  I reminded her that shiva is for the family, and she will have fulfilled her promise when she buries her mother next to her family, including her son, my friend's brother.  This is hard stuff, painful and burdensome, and I know well, as I was responsible for my father's death and my brother's.  I still have not scattered my brother's ashes.  After five years his remains are in our bedroom, awaiting final disposal.  I can only listen to my friend and offer my support, but the worry and responsibility rests on her shoulders alone.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Ah.  The Impeachment process.  Will it be a catastrophe or dignified?  Are the President's actions actionable?  I've been continually appalled by his behavior and speech, which is definitely WRONG speech, but I keep being surprised by such things not being against the law or there is no law yet existing.  I have not a clue how this will all play out.  It is like a Christmas Pageant gone wrong.  So wrong.  The mess this president has created is indeed a tangled web of deceit and lies.  I hope some good witches sweep the government clean, or cleaner.  This in no way can be what the founders intended.  We are tripped up by the webs so that we cannot rise, but only fall again and again.  I want the country to be upright again.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Veterans' Day, yesterday, had me remembering the service and loss of so many soldiers.  My best friend's husband was killed in Vietnam, and it changed the course of her life, as did the loss of my mother's pilot sweetheart during World War II.  Another friend's husband survived Vietnam, but he walked off the plane addicted to heroin, and she had to leave their five month old baby to seek treatment.  The army washed their hands of the problem.  Their marriage did not survive.  People remake their lives, but the ghost of loved ones lost is a true haunting.  You are forever altered, and the sadness is part of your ongoing life.  We need to make certain we are not careless with these men and women who serve our country, and only send them where we are morally obligated to defend with righteousness.  Our recent history is not honorable, and I mean honorable to these brave souls who protect us.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I visited with one friend this morning, and we delighted in grocery shopping together, then settling down in her chairs to "catch up".  I was describing the sculptures in Kathy Butterly's show, and showed her some photos of a sculpture and painting I'd loved, and she was enchanted in the same way as I was.  We've seen so many art shows together, and remembered ones we'd both enjoyed.
Then this afternoon I took a walk with another friend, and we discussed the holidays, our families, and the movie "Harriet".  I feel restored by these encounters and ready to plunge into my busy week ahead.  Does anything rival a chat with a friend?  Not in my book!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I went to see "Harriet" this morning at 11:45 am.  I was determined to see the film and I'm babysitting tonight, so we squeezed it in between breakfast at an egg shop and the hardware store and dropping our almost 3 year old grandson's toy back at his house, as his trucks are sacrosanct, even if he's the one who left it here.  I thought the film was beautiful and profound, and I wept pretty much all the way through it.  The actors were amazing, and the story is more extraordinary than I had realized.  Superficially, I was gratified that Harriet Tubman was five feet tall, as I am, and us wee folk can be powerful!  I love seeing a film by a woman director, and Kesi Lemmons did a great job. 
The bonus was seeing the previews, where 3 more films caught my eye:  the one with Tom Hanks as Mr. Rogers, the live people redo of Mulan, which is one of my favorite Disneys, and Terrance Malick's new film about a person in Scandinavia who tries to save Jews from the Nazis during World War II.  Movies to look forward to.  Actually, there was another preview with Lakeith Stanfield that also looked promising.  Yeah!  The Oscar season is bringing us riches!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our three year old grandson was exuberant today at Fairyland.  He was noisy, ran a lot, made friends with a slightly older boy when he was sliding, snacked several times, fought going to the bathroom, wet his pants, went in the bathroom with me where there was a potty just his size, but he wouldn't sit on it, pretended his kitty was on a boat, wouldn't leave, but then was cheerful about getting back in the car.  He was a bundle of contradictions, and I let his energy sweep gently over me without ruffling my feathers.  His imagination is astounding, and I like to just sit there and listen to him, as I did after lunch while he piled up toy trucks to make a traffic jam, and I agreed to wave the helicopter overhead to report on traffic.  I love this age, when you learn so much from their pretending.  I remember my granddaughter making a train in her living room and I was a passenger while she fulfilled all the other roles, and my grandson talking for his trains while I overheard his worries about bullies and fears.  Now this grandson, and soon the baby will be creating his own little world to meet his needs and hopes and fears.  Play therapy indeed!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Oh, my goodness!  I had nine and a half babysitting hours Tuesday and yesterday, the little bundle was fussy, culminating with 45 minutes of non-stop fuss.  Now, 45 minutes may not seem like a long time, but trust me, you just don't remember when your kids were little.  I walked him, I bounced him, I tried to get him to take a bottle, I tried to rock him, we sat on the front steps, I showed him every book and toy.  He was having none of it.  When daddy got home, he smiled at me from the security of his arms as if to say:  see, I just wanted mommy or daddy, and not YOU.  I was not hurt, I was delighted.  It meant there was not anything critical wrong, he was just DONE.  Well, I was DONE too.  I watched 3 Castle episodes with my husband, took a shower and went to bed at 9.  Okay, before last weekend it would have been 10, to give myself credit, but still.  I need to train with the Marines for this gig!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Two friends and I took an older friend out for her birthday, her 90th.  We had a great lunch at a Japanese restaurant and saw the new Schrem art museum in Davis.  We all fell in love with a ceramics show by Kathy Butterfly.  So witty, so gorgeous, so goofy and absolutely female.  I loved almost every piece and we all saw the show twice.  There were other delights:  William Wiley, Arneson, Thiebaud, Joan Brown and the like.  Also a Deborah Butterfield horse, always a treat, and a great Cornell sculpture in the garden.  It was sunny and no hint of smoke, and we escaped after a stressful week and came home refreshed.  Our friend taught our children in kindergarten and first grade, and we've witnessed her creativity, her adjustment to retirement and her fierce determination in the face of aging.  She persuaded me to teach art for several years, and I was offered a great job and thoroughly enjoyed the teaching.  Her creativity rubbed off on me.  Now we meet occasionally for art shows or dance events or just old friends' get togethers.  I've known her now for over thirty years.  I hope she had fun yesterday.