Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We can't wait for this horrible, terrible, dreadful, awful bad year to end. Yeah, 2021 will be a mess too, but at least we can anticipate the vaccine, and possible loosening of restrictions next summer. And the days will be longer, and we can avoid the orange one more easily. Walking the other day, I saw a sign in a yard that simply said: Bye, Don. It made me laugh. Let's hope the angels of our better selves re-emerge and we, well dare I say it? COOPERATE for the benefit of all beings and our children's and grandchildren's futures. It's possible, and the tipping point is not so far away. We've seen what hate and selfishness can do, and it's not a pretty picture. And really, we any of the people who let loose with their worst impulses any happier? I don't think so. It buzzes you up, but fizzles pretty quickly, especially after someone you love dies of covid. So let's try, folks, let's really try to all get along.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today our 10 month old grandson finally was comfortable enough with my husband and I to not cry when his mother was out of the room. It's almost heartbreaking, because after this Sunday, we will not be able to be in a pod with them, as his older brother will be back in his preschool, so we will kind of disappear. We can see him outside, six feet away and masked, but that will maybe be once or twice a week for an hour. But I'm grateful we had even this twelve day period when we could touch and hug and smile. Hopefully, we will receive the vaccine sometime next spring, and it will be possible to see our grandchildren again more normally. I am grateful that they are all well and managing in this strange world. So many people are suffering so much more than my family. We had no funeral or celebration for our daughter, but that will have to come later, perhaps next summer. My dear Zen teacher has had her cremation ceremony on Zoom, so that will have to do. My cousin's daughter's husband has died, and I will miss any service for him has well. But we have all lost people and been unable to mourn in the usual ways. We will be a nation of trauma after this pandemic, and a great deal of tenderness and healing will be necessary. I wish everyone self-kindness and delicate care of others in his post nightmare time.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We drove this morning to a park with a lake, gardens, playground and lots of birds and ducks. My husband strolled the sleeping ten month old while my daughter, her four year old son and I went to the playground. I was the sea monster and my grandson and daughter were the pirates. They attacked with pretend "canyonballs" as my grandson calls cannon balls. Then my husband and I pushed the baby towards the lake, but he woke up, so we headed back and picked up the other two and we walked to where we could see the waterfowl and birds in the trees. I even identified a towee and cormorants. Our grandson loved the Canadian geese landing in the lake in synchronicity. He had a snack, the baby attempted to dive into the water, then we headed for the rose garden which astonishingly had lots of roses in bloom, and then we passed the vegetable garden and swung around the far side of the lake, enjoying the sunny day. We saw perhaps two people without masks who were easily avoided, and since we'd come so early, a bit after nine am, we had not had to face the crowded playground that we observed on our way back to the cars. When it seems insurmountable to be outside, there is usually a way to manage it and be safe, but I have to keep being reminded. And my new mask didn't fog up my glasses! Oh happy day!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The older I get, the less I feel I know. I think a lot about my daughter who died, and she has become so complex she's like a faceted diamond to me. You can't judge another person, because what you see is their "story" and their words and actions. But INSIDE the person: unknown. I do know she was conflicted, after a tumultuous first few years. She didn't have the self esteem I attempted to instill in her. Yet she was risk taking, daring and fought to keep true to herself. True love didn't run smoothly for her, if it ever does for anyone, but she picked partners who respected and adored her, so her choices were solid. Motherhood came somewhat late to her, but she emerged herself in making her daughter's life rich and full and surrounded by loving family and friends. And when I contemplate my other three kids, they too elude me with their complexities and nuances. They are so much more than I will ever know or guess. All four are kind to us and others, and clearly try to do no harm. We all share the same leftist politics. We all adore children, and books, and art, and music and nature. But do I KNOW them? No, they are mysterious and always will be, as I am to them. This allows for surprise, delight and fun, and dampens judgement's ugly head. Relationships are shadows dancing with each other, unable to see the person clearly. I accept that now.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had a lazy, cosy day yesterday with the opening of presents, the grandsons' gifts to be exact, taking more or less all day. We had a big brunch then my husband and I went back home so the boys could nap, and at five we had a nice, light Christmas dinner: salmon, squash, turnips and a big salad. Today we went over for a walk and so my husband could build legos with our four year old grandson, while I helped my daughter corral the eleven month old, who is determined to fall, crash, or burn. He's super active, and into everything. Now we're back home and I feel like a nap myself. It rained yesterday, but not the big storm they predicted, and the rain forecast for tomorrow is gone. It's sunny and warmer than expected, and our walk was lovely. How is it I can get exhausted doing nothing? I'm tired from the entire year, and the end is unwinding me. I have high hopes for 2021, and no regret about leaving 2020. I'm sure I'm not alone.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Christmas Eve, and as if in a sci fy movie. Like 28 days later or Contagion. Our state is absolutely beseiged with covid. We are not supposed to go anywhere. Luckily, our weather is forbidding, and tomorrow is supposed to be rainy. It may help keep people in, but I'm thinking it might be this new, more spreadable strain, so that people aren't really acting out, it's the virus acting out. Fear is in the air. But we will spend these next few days in our temporary pod with our daughter, son-in-law and two of our grandsons, so we are very lucky. They quarantined and tested, and we can be together until January 4, when our four year old grandson returns to his preschool. There is no greater joy than children at this time of year. It will be the baby's first Christmas, and he loves (a little too much) the tree. The presents have to wait until he's asleep tonight, or they'd all be in tatters. I hope everyone finds a way to keep hopeful and cheery. Merry Christmas to all and to all a better safer 2021!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We've had some crystal clear nights and we did see the Jupiter/Saturn show on Sunday night, but all the stars are bright and the moon looks so near right now. Very Jeruselem inspiring. I'd like to think a person compassionate and wise is being born somewhere to bring some clarity and peace. At the general time of Jesus' birth, there was the historical Buddha, Confuscus, Mohammed and other beginners of our modern religions. There was a shift in consciousness, as if the human brain had evolved further. We could use some more evolution right now, and my Tibetan teacher jokes that we are not as evolved as we'd like to think. 2020 proves that beyond a doubt. But we have the capacity. We can stretch ourselves and open our hearts - crack them wide open and let whatever comes in without fear or judgement. My friend had to put down her dog this week, and I've been where she is now. My dogs were the path with heart, and their unswerving love and devotion challenged me to be my bigger self. They are our Jimminy Crickets. Losing them takes the heart out of the home. One great thing about this pandemic is how many animals have been rescued and found homes. We somehow know they bring out our best selves. I think of my late dog's eyes, seeing into the deep part of me, and never wavering in her love. The Tibetans believe in reincarnation and that dogs are next highest to humans. I've often teased that they are above us, and I wish to come back, if there is such a thing as reincarnation, as a dog. Preferably a lab.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I did not want to hear about the new variant in the United Kingdom. I really, really did not want that information, and neither did anyone else who heard about it. In our woman's group is a person who's daughter and family are there, and I'm sure her heart dropped. Now that we are getting a bit less noise from Trump other terrifying news pops up, could keep our adrenalin high, and our hope crushed. I know, on some level, the journalists feel they are doing their duty to inform us. But they are also scrambling for our attention in exactly the same way Trump is. And for the same reason: it benefits them financially. Right speech is not necessarily rushed speech. More research and facts would aid our understanding, but we seem to be on a path where the stories are vomited out compulsively, then adjusted later (well, not in Trump's case). I don't see the careful workup that major stories in the news used to have. These newspapers and TV stations etc are owned by conglomerates. Grow, grow, grow is the impulse. I try not to participate, but my phone is against me, and what little I read is hyperbole. How do we protect ourselves by taking in only what we can handle? I try, but get blindsided constantly. The only tool I have is to pray for everyone's well being, and stay in the moment with those prayers. I can still experience joy in nature around me, the Facetimes with my grandchildren, the little interactions with my husband, friends and animal life. As long as I don't jump ahead to expectations, and keep the mantra Don't Know. But it's so hard, so wearing, so harmful. News is poison right now.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had our women's group on Zoom this morning, because our state is in complete lockdown, so that even masked and distanced, we were not supposed to meet. We discussed how confused we were about how to get tested, if we needed to. I guess I would call my doctor, but she would not test me, and she's only doing phone conversations, but hopefully she could direct me to where I could be tested. All of us described our probable Christmas, and all but one woman was going to be with a piece of her family, but not most of it. We also recommended books, movies and activities we had enjoyed. I recommended going to this historic site an hour away that seemed safe and was wonderful to visit. They had lots of enormous Christmas trees and lights, and the gardens were not crowded and every single person was masked. A couple of us who had managed to go to the local zoo while it was still open felt its closing was unfair. They had limited entrance and everyone had been masked and stayed an appropriate distance away. But still, it is again closed. Gardens and parks are about it right now. And of course there is no monitoring, so if someone is not wearing a mask, and you can't distance fast enough, it's risky. Yesterday I went for two walks around the neighborhood, but sometimes I have to walk in the street to avoid an unmasked jogger or just a person who doesn't wish to comply. It's an obstacle course kind of stress and my state is in crisis, so I'm fearing everything and everyone. Not a good frame of mind for the holidays. I feel like I'm hunkering down in a bunker.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just finished reading a memoir: The Beauty in Breaking, by Michele Harper. It's a profoundly moving account of her struggle to move on from a traumatic childhood and love and accept herself. She is an ER physican, African American, who describes some of her encounters with patients and what they taught her. Her command of language is wonderful, and the writing is often lyrical. I especially like the parts where she is working in a VA hospital in Philadelphia. Her compassion for the traumas soldiers have often experienced and not processed is moving. She sees the humanity in everyone, because she takes the time to do so. Her experience with a woman vet, also African American, who had been raped by more than one soldier while deployed, is wrenching. But there is lots of description of her own life, and how she heals herself after a divorce. The meditation, yoga and other self comfort she makes time for eventually bring her back to herself and her life's purpose. It's lovely.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

As a part Native American, I'm so proud Rep. Haaland has been nominated to be Secretary of the Interior. I have high hopes for her, and what she can do to heal our earth and protect our land. She comes from a tradition that values the earth and its creatures, and she will be its protector. I'm just happy to see so many women in positions of power. I'm not naive, I know women can screw up and be enticed by power as much as men. But I do believe our biology, though I would have denied this when I was younger, impells us to nurture. I'm hoping more women in power mean equal pay, attention to child care and other supposed "women's" issues, and a dynamic that mediates rather than polarizes. I'd like to see women in the military protected from harrassment and rape, and domestic violence addressed vigorously, so children don't have to grow up in violent homes and perpetuate the cycle. We are usually the negotiators in our families, and we don't as often believe in judgement, competition and "winners and losers". We understand compromise is not a bad word but a badge of honor. Ladies, let's do it, I know we can.

Wandering ALong the Path: Right Speech

I went to my eye doctor this morning and my eyes were still holding. I get nervous before each checkup, but so far so good. Having my vision threatened has been challenging, for many years, but I've been fortunate that my one eye is doing all the hard work. Also, that science has found treatments that have worked on my bad eye, so that I have a lot of vision left, but have lost the ability to read or see faces through it. My eyesight has been an issue since lower elementary school, when I had to wear glasses. I kept "losing" them on purpose and in that era "four eyes" was humiliating. When I turned sixteen, and could wear contact lenses, I felt I transformed from an ugly duckling into a swan. But in my late forties I had cataract surgery for both eyes, then thyroid eye disease and finally macular degeneration. I was terribly myopic, and that can exacerbate macular, because my eyes are so egg shaped. I adore art and reading and all the things that vision brings, and though I've trained myself to rest my eyes, listen to music, and not be so dependent on the visual, I really haven't succeeded that well. I am enjoying my vision as it is and while it lasts, and will adjust as things change, which is the law of the universe. This threat makes me gratefuf and appreciative of all I see, from my grandchildrens' faces to the snowdrops coming up under the persimmon tree. Seeing is conscious for me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday was the birthday of my granddaughter's father, my former son-in-law. He is a hero. He hung in as a father after their divorce, and they shared custody. He moved three blocks away so he could help more the last six years, while my daughter battled breast cancer. My granddaughter could go to either house after school by walking. He was tactful during my daughter's remarriage and kind to her new husband's two sons. But once she divorced her second husband, he stepped in at a moment's notice to take care of their daughter, drive my daughter to chemo, pick their daughter when my daughter was sick. When covid hit and our family couldn't fly up to be with my daughter, he stayed every night in the guest room so she would never be alone, and when my husband and I came up as she was dying, he trusted we'd been careful about covid, and we ate together and he continued to spend every night there. He and I developed a decision making process for dealing with all the issues, the safety of nurses entering the home, and contingency plans for whatever might arise. I was the one upstairs with my daughter when she died, and I ran downstairs and he rushed up, while my husband stayed with our granddaughter. We made every decision together, in harmony, both knowing what my daughter wanted. After she died we stayed and helped him move his stuff into the house as he'd promised to raise their daughter in the only house she could remember, one they'd bought together and he'd relinquished any right to so they could kept their daughter's life as stable as possible. He's a remarkable father, and I hope they enjoyed their steak and ice cream dinner to celebrate. I can't wait to get the vaccine so I can see them again. But our granddaughter is in the best possible hands.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I am going for a walk with a friend. She just got a negative covid result. She's had a cold and laryngitis. We're all paranoid these days. And covid is coming closer. My son-in-law's cousin's nanny got covid and they've had to quarantine. So near and yet so far. The vaccine is here but we have to wait our turn, and while we do we go crazy. Covid seems so mysterious and tricky and puzzling. People get it but don't know how. Tracing is nonexistent. We just have to remain calm, but I, like everyone else am a bit paranoid at this point. Crazy is the new normal, especially with our example in the White House. We're all swerving away from reason and science into voodoo. I look forward to being rational, I just can't quite claim it as my state of mind right now. I'm a bit bonkers.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Seeing the photo of the nurse receiving the covid vaccine in New York was uplifting. I have friends who are doctors or whose kids are doctors or nurses, and what a relief to know they will soon be protected! I'm hoping sometime this coming spring we will be getting our shots as well. The light at the end of the tunnel, as they say. I've spent part of my morning tracking some gifts yet again. Two have been shipped, but no delivery. My guess is they were sent by way of Nova Scotia. I might as well be playing Where's Waldo. It's sunny today and I plan on walking. Otherwise, no plans yet again. Surprise, surprise. I've been reading a strange memoir about a woman's experience in the tech industry in San Francisco, and the world she describes is as bizarre as this year we're in. I thought I'd see what these startups are all about, though I'm not quite clear at this point, but I'm not half way through yet. Her writing style is engaging and honest, and that keeps me going. I'd really like to do almost anything else but read, but can't quite make myself. We watched Columbo last night, the highlight of yesterday. Donald Pleasance was terrific in the mystery, and Julie Harris was delightful. This one was lighter and made fun of wine affectionados. Pleasance was so terrific and you could tell Falk was utterly charmed. It was fun to watch, and just to see Falk young and less mannered in his role as Columbo. Well, these are the highlights of my life, pitiful as they are.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

More rain last night and this morning, and finally there is more predicted in a few days on the weather ap. This morning I listened to Anam Thubten's dharma talk, and he was describing some yogis urge to wander, traveling without purpose or destination, so that they might detach themselves from the chains of routine, comfort and expectation. I can't say I've ever had that urge, as a practitioner, because, firstly, I've been so very rooted by my family and responsibilities, and now that I'm retired, my desire for travel has definite destinations in mind, as well as a bathroom attached to every place I stay. I can't say my travel has suffered because of covid, as I was on call for half the year while our daughter was dying, and in traumatic shock this last half because of her loss. I'm not sure I would have gone anywhere regardless. So I guess you could say I'm well chained, but for the best of reasons, and as my good friend says, You're so tribal. It's true. WHen my kids live away, it's as if an invisible thread ties me to them. Once, years ago, as we were driving past my older daughter's house on our way back from visiting my friend further north, and we weren't stopping, as we'd seen my daughter and granddaughter first, I felt this tug on my heart, as if it was impossible to drive past without seeing them again. I've never forgotten that feeling. Now I have five grandchildren instead of just the one, but I feel it with all of them. Some days, I can't bear to look at their photos, as I experience the pull so badly. I think of this in myself as a good thing. I always knew my parents were by my side, steadfastly there for me, and I want to be that rock for my kids and grandkids, and, actually, my friends as well. Chains of love, as the old song goes.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

A little rain did fall, and more is expected tonight. Our poor parched plants are drinking it in. It's a good day to finish my book, the new Grisham, which is a sequel to A Time to Kill. As usual, he tackles important issues of justice, this time the incareration of junviles and the strange laws around them in two states, Texas and Mississippi. But Mississippi is protrayed much more harshly than in the previous book, and it looks like the south, and its culture, has gotten to Grisham. It is not an attractive place to live. The violence and racism is endemic, and though not directly addressed, it does not paint a pretty picture. You find yourself rooting for Jake, the protagonist, to pack up and leave. I think all of us who once lived in the south are re-evaluating what that culture was and still is, to some extent, and the subtle, not just the obvious harm does to its inhabitants. We see situations more clearly as we get older, and we've read more and now understand how ugly the culture was is many respects. But seeing clearly is the first step in changing hearts and minds for the better, and these truths have to be faced.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

This ordering online is stress inducing. We sent five gifts weeks ago and they keep changing the ship date. Clearly nothing has been shipped. Even one of my old reliable companies is shipping the four items slowly and separately, so one definitely has reached it's destination, one has been shipped, and two haven't. It's a crazy end to a crazy year. If my daughter and her family quarantine and then test negative, I'll have four stockings to fill, but I think I'll go to either the pharmacy or my local grocery to find stuff. Just these normally ordinary tasks, which were fun in the past, feel insurrmountable. My friend said on the phone yesterday she's not putting up a tree or decorations, but is baking. I realized that was a good idea, once I make the list and have Instacart deliver the ingredients. But what to do? My mother always made divinity, fudge and bourbon balls. I used to make fudge and fruitcake, and some years green salsa. Last year I only made fudge. Maybe banana bread or persimmon bread, as I have frozen my persimmons, and could use them. At least looking through my cookbooks would be fun. No gingerbread house this year, as that involves children. Same with sugar cookies. Now, of course, I myself can't eat any of these goodies, but I'd love to give them to friends. That's settled: baking as therapy for the stress of the holidays@

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

There is some hope of rain this weekend, though no sign of it today. I'd do a rain dance, if I thought it would help. I do love to dance. In the meantime, I'm going to the dentist, writing Christmas cards and doing laundry. So exciting. My daughter sent a photo of the four year old grandson stringing gold balls on red ribbon. It was his own idea. He's just as desperate as I am to occupy himself. But I was heartened yesterday that our state reversed the order to close playgrounds after a huge protest. Talk about classist! Those with big back yards would be fine, but many, many children rely on parks and playgrounds to get fresh air and play safely. The state came to its senses. I notice nobody is paying much attention to the newest orders anyway. Just on our block alone yesterday, my husband and I saw six people without masks. And in rural areas they are partying up a storm. Everyone is so frazzled that they've kind of quit. They either are fatalistic or deny the danger. And three thousand people died yesterday. It's a crazy, crazy world.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is our younger daughter's birthday. We sang Happy Birthday to her on the phone, and we will take a distanced walk with her this morning, but again, everything is locked down and we will not be able to make a fuss. She is seven years younger than her next sibling, and twelve and fourteen years younger than the other two, so she was the youngest and kind of an only child as well. I parented her differently because I was 37 when I had her, and our circumstances has changed. We also moved when she was four, so she only remembers the town we live in now, and she does not remember my parents or my husband's parents. I worked more when she was in preschool, and then less as she got older, so that must have affected her. Her siblings adored her, but seem not to have quite realized she is all grown up. It's frustrating for her. However, she has created a life for herself that is loving and happy, with a wonderful husband, two sons, a ton of friends, and lots of creative outlets. Because of covid, she did not return to teaching after the second child was born, and it's been hard, but she's been the most amazing parent. She's so sweet with us and her in-laws, and brightens up our days. I don't think she has a clue how amazing she is, though we tell her. I wish her joy and fun and lots of adventures in the future post covid.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Another beautiful fall day. I went for a walk this morning with my friend and she stopped to take photos with her phone of a beautiful camilia bush and a blue hydrangea. Since her sister lives in upper New York state, it seems a bit cruel, but oh well. The plants here are confused every year but especially this year, as we've had no rain and the last two day have a high of 70. When we watched Interstellar a couple of nights ago, the earth was becoming a dust bowl and the only hope was to colonize another planet. There are fearful intimations of that for our state. Water is everything. On a more cheerful note, I'm grateful to be able to walk, and people are wearing masks, and they gave the first dose of covid vaccine to a 90 year old in the UK. Perhaps our turn here will come soon. The lemon and orange trees are bursting with fruit, and the birds in my back yard are feasting on the persimmons high up on the tree. There is an abundance which is delightful.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I visited a dear friend this morning, out in her back yard and 6 feet away with masks. It is her birthday and I had a gift of two books, since that is really about all we can do these days, as we are totally shut down. I hadn't seen her in a long time, as first her husband had surgery and they had to be super careful, then recently they had a scare of covid which fortunately resolved well. We used to walk, but now she is tutoring from home some students who need extra help, and she finds it frustrating and depressing. One little boy, in particular, makes her sad, as he can't engage well and she really has no idea how to help him online. He is seven. She described a sailing trip she and her husband took recently to an island nearby. It was great to get away. I agreed that walks I've taken were energizing and uplifting. The wind was blowing and the sun was in her eyes and I kept sneezing from some plant in her yard. It was the best we could do. But it wasn't really pleasant.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I finished my postcards to voters in Georgia yesterday and walked down to mail them. The box is in front of the grocery store seven houses from ours, and it is open seven days a week, except that on Friday, as we drove by after picking up curbside some books I'd ordered, the lights in the store weren't on. A bit later my husband walked to the grocery to see what was going on and the sign said they were closed for a few days and the staff would get tested for covid tomorrow. I had run in masked and careful a few days before and so had my son. If a worker has covid, that could affect my neighborhood dramatically. We carefully ordered more than usual from Instacart, because maybe once a week or less one of us would go to that store for a few items. This dread and fear is getting hard to bear. But it is a beautiful fall day, with persimmons bright orange against our bare leafed tree, and a golden floor of leaves in our yard, patio and steps. My husband is sweeping the leaves off our porch right now, and I am making cards for the grandkids with some of them. I am beginning to address Christmas cards, and I do love cards. So there is joy and fear, peace and dread, ordinary life that would never have been called such before the pandemic.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night we watched "A Thief of Time", a Tony Hillerman TV movie produced by Robert Redford. It's maybe my favorite of the three movies that were produced years ago starring Adam Beach and Wes Studi. Even though the middle one was written by my former creative writing student, Jaimie Redford. Last year Studi won a special Oscar and gave a terrific speech. This year he was named one of the 20 best actors of this century so far by the New York Times. Of course, like everyone else I first encountered him in "Last of the Mohicans". As Mugwa, he ruled the screen. Yes, I had a crush on Daniel Day Lewis, but Studi was electrifying. The last movie I saw with him was "Hostiles", which was wonderful, except for the ending. My husband asked me last night which actor (Indiginous) I preferred: Gary Farmer, Graham Greene, Adam Beach, Eric Sweig, Sheila Tousey, Tantoo Cardinal, or Studi. I paused, because I adore Gary Farmer in "Dead Man", and love the rest, but I went with Studi. His face is distinctive, alive with physicality, and he has such a wide range. I feel he is a national treasure.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today we drove in separate cars with our younger daughter and her two boys to a garden an hour away. We were relieved when we arrived to note only a couple of cars, and indeed, there were few people, with everyone wearing masks and being careful. Our four year old grandson loved the lights and even in daytime, they were beautiful. There were many Christmas trees, some huge, with giant ornaments. He was fascinated. After, at the gift shop, he picked out an ornament for their tree and I bought him a decoration with bells. We were even able to have lunch outside safely. We all loved getting away, and it upped our spirits considerably. Even the baby was smiley and ate all his lunch. We topped it off with a chocolate leftover from Halloween. We're under threat of further lockdown, so perhaps the garden will close. We will endure whatever we have to, but going SOMEWHERE, ANYWHERE is a great mental health aid. And for any age. We had three generations on extactly the same page.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, our younger son, his wife and our eighteen month old grandson have departed for a life two states away. We are sad, but know it's an excellent choice for them. We had five days with them in the house, with us interacting constantly with our grandson. He may not remember us at all when next we see him. This is ordinary life with the pandemic, and I don't feel sorry for myself, because I know millions of people are cut off from the ones they love. I decided to haul all the toys strewn in the living room and kitchen upstairs to the bedroom with the toddler bed and portacrib. We now officially have no pod, so none of the grandkids will be inside our house. It's been years since the living room has been "adult". Of course, I can't socialize so nobody but us will take advantage of the new roominess, but getting the room cleared out seems appropriate. I don't want to stare at kiddie things and think of what I'm missing. It already feels so quiet in the house. Very strange. We may have to get another dog.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm writing postcards to unsuspecting potential voters in Georgia. I'm not asking them to vote one way or another, just to vote in the runoff. I figure if one person out of all these postcards votes, it will have been worth my hard work. I'm getting quite good at this postcard business. And I'd rather do that than text or phone. As soon as I finish these 50 cards, I'll begin my Christmas card writing. I'm tempted this year to do a form letter. We'll see. Most important to me is the grandkid photos I send. The kids change so much and I like my friends to have up-to-date pictures of them. Plus, I have a brand new grandson this year. I know Christmas cards are old fashioned, but so are a lot of my friends: we appreciate the hand written and specific. I love reading Miss Manners in the newspaper, because she is a dinosaur like me, and still values the effort of cards, thank yous and get wells. She's fighting a hopeless battle but I admire her for it. As long as I can do it, I'm putting in the effort, to show my love and concern. It's a little thing, but most gestures are. And from little things come surprising connections and affections.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is my best friend's birthday and we had a zoom meeting to celebrate her. She looked beautiful, and her son, daughter-in-law and two granddaughters were so loving and fun. It was nice to see her friends online as well. I texted her this morning and she said we would have to take a trip the minute we are vaccinated and can travel again. I have so many terrific memories of our trips. We have been to Santa Fe twice, Quebec City and Montreal, Morocco (Marrakesh, Fez, Rabat, Casablanca, Ifrane, Meknes), Florence and environs, and little trips to Calistoga, Vashon Island and other places. She has been like a sister to me, and beside me at all of my kids' weddings and most graduations. She's supported me through my kid's illness, my parents' deaths, my brother's suicide, and my daughter's death from breast cancer. She's been a rock. We talk for at least an hour a week on the phone, and we laugh and tease and moan and groan and complain. I don't think I could survive without her love and caring. I deeply appreciate the serendipity of meeting her in a conscious raising group 47 years ago and being on a path with her ever since. Other friends and I have parted ways, but she and I have fought to keep our friendship relevant and rich. There is nothing I don't tell her, and that means my petty, judgemental, ungenerous side and not just the bright path I struggle to follow. She knows who I am. And it's a treasure beyond imagining to have someone SEE me. I hope I do the same for her.