Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's one day before Christmas Eve, and we've had the pandemic delimas many are facing. Our daughter and grandson took the Covid test Monday, but still haven't gotten the results, so no cookie baking today, and because of the rain our older son and his family will only visit for an hour or two tomorrow morning, because our younger son, his wife and son are visiting and traveled by airplane, just as our older son's wife's mother traveled out here for the holidays. We want to be cautious and careful, but it means not being all together for Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas day. It's wrenching and torturous. Our family has the two youngest boys unable to have a vaccine, and the next oldest only with his first shot, and the oldest hasn't had the booster yet. When our granddaughter comes Monday, she will be flying, but she's vaccinated and boostered at least. We are yearning to be all together, because we are grieving over the loss of our daughter, aunt, and mother. But what seemed so possible in the summer is now too dangerous, and with the old (my husband and I) and the young so vulnerable. Our two sons are immunocompromised as well. I am being grateful that some family will be with us this year, and hopeful that the omnicron surge will soon peak and die down, and the warm weather will make it possible to enjoy each other outdoors. But right now it's cold and wet, and outdoors is an option for puddle splashing only, which the grandson at least adore!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's been crisp and cold sunny weather, but we're about to have a week of rain. It makes everything complicated, when we want to get together with family but need to be outside. We're all attempting to be flexible, and hope for the best. Our new pipe got put in yesterday and they are supposed to return Monday to pour concrete and replace the walkway they tore out. We poured out the last of the rainwater we'd collected in the basement, and will sweep up the dirt later today. We took a walk this morning, as we were both feeling so creaky, and the cleaning woman visited after lunch to talk about days and price. She will begin the first week of January. She was sweet, and brought her teenaged daughter, and mostly we could understand each other. I hope, at least. I went yet again to the grocery store, and will have to again before Christmas eve, but the plans are beginning to form. One day at a time, with lots of Christmas music and staring at the tree in between. We put the battery operated train under the tree and it works great with nice sound effects. The little grandsons will love it. Next week it all begins: the relatives visiting, the the dinners, the stockings, the desserts. We all want this year to be more joyful than last Christmas.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm pretty exhausted. This week has had a biblical theme of flooding. Our basement flooded Sunday, with some heavy rain, but then a couple of days later, with a much lighter rain, it flooded again. We had Roto Rooter out at midnight, and finally, Thursday, someone came from the plumbing service we use, and quoted an apalling amount of money to tear up the sidewalk next to our house on one side and do a fix. They promised to begin tomorrow. We nevertheless managed to decorate our house for the holidays, in a reduced style, and with the help of our daughter. A few more lights on the porch and we'll be done. I even bought six new ornaments yesterday, just for the heck of it. They are wool felt, and happily unbreakable by the grandsons. Yesterday a card came from a neighbor from thirty some years ago. Her husband, who was a dear heart, died of ALS. When we lived next door to them he often used his tractor to plow and pile the manure from our horse Lu, and did many helpful, neighborly things. Their daughter babysat for us, and has grown to be a rock solid support for her parents during this agonizing illness. The family was all that you'd want in a neighbor and more. The mother would take chokecherries from our yard and make jam and wine and give it to us. She was a nome ec teacher until she retired, and could sew, bake, decorate, the whole nine yards. She has made hundreds of masks since Covid to help people. Some people are a joy to know, and warm your heart, and theirs was such a family.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a wonderful visit from my friend up north, and I'm grateful she made the trip. She arrived Wednesday midday, and left Sunday morning. We managed to have lunch out and shop one day, go to the modern art museum the next, then her last full day I showed her a succulent garden and later we met my younger daughter, her husband and two boys, and picked out Christmas trees. Then we went to their house and had a Mexican dinner delivered. She has been like an aunt to my daughter, so I was glad they got to connect. But perhaps the highlight was our two friends coming Friday night for dinner, where we did not have to mask, and we were cosy inside, and it felt like before the pandemic. It was just so delightful to have a little dinner party. I hope my friend had a good time. I know she was cold in our old drafty house, and she had trouble sleeping, but that is a problem she has frequently, even at home. We had some intereesting conversations, including one the last night where we realized although her sister and my brother were close to our ages, they were in different eras than we were. In 1963 things changed suddenly and dramatically: civil rights, JFK's assasination, we could wear pants, we all let our hair grow long and took to sandals, jeans and peasant blouses. Conscousness raising became a thing, we marched, drugs were around us. My brother was younger so he had a totally different experience in high school, and my friend's sister was in a bygone era with music, expectations, and aspirations. Now we are in another time when the culture is shifting rapidly, and the disconnect is shocking to many.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I passed my driving test this morning. What a relief1 The DMV person was so supportive and kind. She said she was on my side and she truly seemed to be. I typically wind myself up in to high anxiety, but then say to myself, a la World War Z when the Brad Pitt character says to the Israeli soldier, "Gut up" and she does and so do I. Now all I have to do is pass the dermatologist exam this afternoon and I can totally relax. Will I?. Well that's another matter. Yesterday the weather report said it was going to drizzle, so we picked up the grandsons in the car but did we get a drop? Nope. The DMV tester said they'd gotten rain where she lives nearby, but it skipped us. So today is blue skies and sunny. But cold. When you take the driving test, you of course have to mask, but also have the windows open, so she was bundled as if ready for Alaska and I had on wool and a puffer vest. I've still got the vest on attempting to warm up. Strange days.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We helped out our daughter and son-in-law for four hours today with our grandson's fifth birthday party. It was at a park, and the sun was out and the families that came were super nice. We mainly helped guard the picnic table and food, watched the birthday boy's little brother and told people who was at the playground and basic stuff. Our older son came with our six year old grandson, and he and the five year old cousin have formed a strong bond this last year, even though they live 1 1/2 hours aaway. Partly it's because of the pandemic, and their families feel safe with each other, and partly because the older one is so sociable and affectionate with the younger, shyer one. It's a joy to see. The younger brother of the birthday boy is crazy about his uncle and their relationship is delightful to witness as well. The carrot cupcakes were a success and the children ran around enthusiastically for most of the time, so I bet there are some tired kids tonight. It exhausts me just watching.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

All is uncertain, and we end in death, yet our many distractions have kept us from this knowledge pretty well. With the veil removed, many people are panicked and feeling untethered. I understand this. I have compassion for people feeling the rug has been pulled out from under them. I am speaking of Covid, but this feeling is equally true for those of us growing older and facing tests, examination of our bodies more frequently, and having friends with illnesses and disabilities they did not face, and somehow had thought they would be exceptions to old age, disease and death. My husband is struggling right now with a new medication, which makes him turn and face his age and mortality. He's actually fortunate there is medicine and he will adjust and do well, but having never wanted to discuss downsizing, changing our habits, or our future needs, he's shocked and upset. Turning away works, for some period of time for some people, but he has not considered that our friends' illnesses and deaths might suggest that our vulnerability is becoming greater and it might be a good idea to have some plans in place. But he won't discuss it. His family is long lived and was relativeely healthy until shortly before they died. I've not had that luxury, as my parents and other family members died younger than I am now. I've had to take care of their estates, and face hard decisions. I don't want to push my husband, especially as he's scared and has no family history of honest talking and planning for the inevitable. He has my sympathy, and I am more than ever grateful that Buddhism has trained me to to look at what I fear and not run from it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend and I drove to our favorite toy store this morning; one that has mostly gently used toys. Their stock is amazing, plus they have decades old Fisher-Price, American girl dolls, handmade outfits for dolls, tons of used books and homemade doll beds, garages and the like. My friend was looking for her six month old granddaughter, and I was searching for stocking stuffers for the grandsons. I found playmobile people, Daniel Tiger figures, small zoo animals, card games and other delights. All I need now is a stop at See's candies for a few yummies. Then we were on a roll, so we hit the other toy store a few blocks down, and I got Xmas Prez figures, a stuffy Xmas tree, and a puzzle for my husband. My friend had gotten a kick out of a stuffed pineapple, and I bought it for her and we laughed. It is soft with fluffy leaves on top and I said it could be her holiday therapy. We topped everything off with a visit to our favorite nursery, where we oohed and aahed over the ornaments, and I bought a narcissus pot. The ornaments were gorgeous, but too pricey for us. We came home thrilled with our purchases. I can imagine the delight on the faces of my grandsons when they look in their stockings. I'm already feeling pleasure over their surprise.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today my friend and I walked and did a couple of errands along the way, then my husband and I tackled the photos after a hiatus of ten days. This time I was more emotionally disturbed by them, because in 2001 not only did our daughter who has died graduate from college, she also married with a lovely wedding, our younger daughter graduated from high school and our older son married ten days after 9/11. What a year! Seeing our older daughter at her rehearsal dinner, in her cap and gown, supporting her younger sister, speaking at her brother's wedding, well, it was overwhelming. Our son was married ten days after 9/11 so we debated whether to postpone the wedding, and people flew in from as far away as New Zealand, and our younger daughter who had just begun college in Philadelphia had to fly back by herself when many people were terrified to fly. I feel I need a couple of days in a rest home just to contemplate the stress of that year. How do we do it?! We do it because we must, but when there is no time to reflecct or nurture oneself, the stuff comes in much later like the inevitable tide. The dam won't hold forever. I'm proud of how the family handled everything that year, and how much joy we had celebrating, but gee, it was a lot.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, in our Covid world, no good deed goes unpunished. Our daughter's husband flew to a wedding in Philadelphia for his cousin, and when he got back Monday night, quarranteened in their studio until he could take a test yesterday. He still hasn't heard back, so now we need to pick up the boys from preschool because he can't and she has a staff meeting every Wednesday. Our son-in-law had Thanksgiving with a bunch of his dad's relatives, and a cousin's wife who was there has tested positive. She is fully vaccinated and has no symptoms, but nevertheless, our son-in-law is rightly isolated from his little family until he gets his results. The burden on our daughter is huge. I wonder if the wedding will have outbreaks as well. This could go on for a while. The joys of the pandemic.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm trying to catch up with my to-do list this week. Last week and through yesterday we were helping our daughter while her husband was away. Today I had an eye appointment, made an appointment for having my eyeglasses lenses changed, got a haircut scheduled for tomorrow morning, planned a walk with a friend and another for Friday and talked to our younger son for an hour as well as called a friend to see how she was doing. Our weather is sunny and warm, which is dire for the drought, but at least means its easy to be outside and pleasant. I will soon begin the task of writing holiday cards and figuring out what pictures to copy of the grandkids to put inside them. We've taken a break from organizing the photos, but we did do more work on the basement, and it was satisfying to put the Thanksgiving decorations in labeled boxes and away on an easy to reach shelf. I plan on weeding out more toys that are too young for our grandsons, and I know just who to give them to - my friend's new granddaughter. I adore reuse. It's so gratifying!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday was an eleven hour day helping our daughter care for her two boys, aged 1 and 5. It involved Fairyland, opening presents, a subsequent puppet show since we'd gotten a doorway puppet theater for the turned 5 year old, chaotic lunch where the delivery was completely wrong, a walk and fighting over a truck, dinner and finally cupcakes and candles. The 5 year old was so exhausted and overwhelmed he couldn't think of a wish to blow out the candles. Daddy being gone was making him sad, and he really couldn't understand it. The 1 year old starting biting, and it was downhill from there until his bedtime. The highlights were us helping the 5 year old build a new Lego toy, the show with a parrot, two kitties and two snakes, and just giving our daughter time to do her laundry. We went home fried to a crisp, but not being able to imagine how she could have done it without us. Today our son-in-law comes in late, so maybe when our daughter comes to pick up the boys at our house after preschool, she can stay for dinner and I'll go back with her to her house to help with bath and bedtimes. Right now I feel annoyed with my son-in-law. Last week was our daughter's teaching break, but he was the one to go east for a wedding (his cousin), partying and since the wedding was Saturday, staying longer than he needed to and leaving her with six days of parenting alone. Not my business, except it's torture to see her so frazzled. Witnessing. That's all I can do.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had a nice morning yesterday, taking three grandchildren and their parents to a park with a rose garden and a long tall cement slide, which the six year old adored. Then we came home and had a New Orleans lunch delivered, with fried chicken, bisquits and other delights. Then are older son, his wife and the six year old packed up and drove home, and after recuperating a couple of hours, I headed over to my daughter's to help her out with the one and four year old boys, and we ate leftovers and after the boys were bathed and asleep, we watched a dumb romantic comedy which we thoroughly enjoyed. It had been a hard day for my daughter, as the four year old's best friend from preschool - his mother was in a bicycle accident and almost died. She was under the car, and not breathing when the paramedics arrived, got her out and rushed her to the hospital. She is now awake and expected to survive, but her pelvis is broken and she's pretty damaged. This afternoon my daughter will pick up her son's friend for a playdate. The couple also have twin older sons. So there was a flurry of meals to sign up for and just the shock of a sunny day turned nightmare. The mom was biking to meet her husband and sons for lunch, and she didn't show up. How the ordinary is mixed with the unthinkable. It is more often than we liked to believe.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I made jello salad and cranberry sauce this afternoon and listened to Christmas music on the radio. Just getting in the spirit. I love turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, the popovers I make and the pies my daughter-in-law bakes. We'll have three toddlers running around and a chaotic dinner very early to accomodate the early bedtimes, and I will and do already feel very blessed. My granddaughter will be doing her thing with her dad and friends, and our younger son will be among a mob of his wife's relatives and nine grandchildren, so I know they will be having fun as well. Perhaps the Thanksgiving story rankles a little, as I'm on the Native's side, but it's a good myth, and we all know the pilgrims would have starved without their Native neighbors. Being grateful is always a good idea, and it is the antidote to fear. So much fear is surging in this country that anything that encourages gratitude is helpful. I love living and am so grateful for my time here on earth. Life if precious.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today I accompanied my daughter to take her two boys to little Farm, and we brought lettuce and celery to feed the animals. The huge pink pigs with black spots loved the romaine lettuce and were polite about taking it gently from the boys. The geese loved the lettuce as well. The chickens were mainly uninterested, and the bunnies are not allowed to be fed, so we traipsed up the hill to the sheep, who were indifferent to either lettuce or celery, so we mosyed on down to the cows, those dependable creatures. They stuck their huge tongues out and ate the celery with relish. Their faces are so benign that it's practically theraputic to stand there gazing into their liquid eyes. If cows get irritable, I haven't witnessed it. Then we went over to a bench for a snack, and the feeding of every creature was complete.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today we bought more bins for our photos, though we don't know how many we need. Just a kind of security blanket. The culling of photos is challenging, and I'm in charge of that process. I generally get rid of: blurry photos, people I have no idea who they are, views with no people, and buildings. Why do we have so many buildings, when we have no idea what they house? As we plug along it's becoming more cheerful work, as seeing all the happy events, birthday cakes, smiles of our family, and the extraordinary beauty of our daughter who died remind us of our history as a family. There were more pictures of my brother than I dared hoped for, and seeing my parents, aunts and uncles and friends I've lost contact with comforts me. They are not just in my head. They are evidence of a full, engaging, rewarding life. I hope when and if my kids and grandkids peruse them, they will have a similar experience.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm reading Thomas Perry's new mystery "The Left Hand Twin", which features Jane Whitehead, a woman who makes people disappear who are in mortal danger. I don't like Perry's other characters, except for the old man, but Whitehead appeals to me because she is Seneca, full of resources to protect oneself, and she fulfills a dream I had when I worked in safehouses: to save women from being murdered. The books with her in them read like safety tips for women in the world. She teaches you how to protect yourself and where to live and what behaviors are risky. And Whitehead is a spiritual person and is married to a doctor who also has a vocation to help people. Perry is a terrific writer, and I slow down my reading to savor the plot and details. I want to keep this book going for a while.

Wandering Along the. Path: Right Speech

I didn't want to hear the outcome of the Rittenhouse trial and I really, really, really don't want to hear the outcome in the Arbury trial. Accountablility is not a currency in our culture right now. Fearful people with guns terrorize all of us. They cannot see the humanity in others, because they live inside a vortex of fear of "other". Other is who the rest of us are. When I went back to the tiny town in Virginia where I'd lived for six years as a child, I expected changes, attutudes transformed. But when a childhood friend hosted a dinner party for me, the guests made fun of my being from the west coast, and therefore probably liberal, and taunted me several times because I was the fool, for believing in equality and justice, the definition of each being so different from their take on it. I remembered when we moved fifty years ago, there was much gossip and rumor that my mother had dyed purple hair and other bizarre stories. In fact my mother was battling brain cancer and suffering horribly, and so was our dad and my brother and I. We were not surfing or smoking dope or having wild parties. But we were no longer in the South, so we became alien. I pray with all my heart that my grandchildren don't have to live in such a polarized, paranoid culture. Because fear is the danger, and it results in acts that murders the souls and sometimes bodies of people we won't bother to understand or empathize with others.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

As we were walking this morning, my husband and I argued about the film "Hostiles", starring Wes Studi, Christian Bale and Rosamund Pike. Set in New Mexico after the Civil War, when the military was tasked with subduing the Native tribes, it illustrates what "hostiles" means at different points to different people. The Captain, Bale, is enraged with Natives for the slaughter of his fellow soldiers, but he has also learned their languages. He is charged by Presidential order to accompany Yellow Hawk (Studi) and his family to Montana where his ancestral lands are and he wishes to be buried (he has cancer). On the way they rescue a pioneer woman who has gone crazy after her husband and three children are slaughtered by Natives, though not Yellow Hawk's people. She hates all Natives, but along the journey she comes to like and respect Yellow Hawk and his people. There is a prisoner who hates and kills all Natives, and disturbs them all. After various adventures they reach the sacred land and bury Yellow Hawk, but soon after a man and his two sons ride up and threaten the group, and won't read the order of the Federal Government far away. They open fire and they are killed but so is all Yellow Hawk's family except for his young grandson, whome the widow protects. My husband hates the ending. But I argue with the shifting meaning of hostile, it opens the film up to not race against race but people filled with hate against those wishing to judge others on their behavior, not their race or situation. Both Bale and Pike grow and change, and in the last scene along with the boy, get on a train for back east to attempt a new life. So I like the symbolism but he hates that the Native women and son were killed. But that is accurate. Some whites were indiscriminate about killing women and children, as were some tribes. It's vicious, but the truth.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I took a walk with a friend this morning and for once we ignored Covid and updates of our kids and talked abouthe t the beautiful fall weather, the leaves, and holiday plans. They are having Thanksgiving on Angel Island, which they will sail to in their boat. Then for Christmas they will meet with all three of their kids in La Paz for a week of sailing there. Needless to say, they are very active and adventurous. She is from Switzerland and he from here, but his parents were German immigrants, so they are at home in the world. I think they met in Italy. And as I say this, I realize that I was adventurous myself, marrying at nineteen and after college graduation getting on a plane for the other side of the world, Fiji, and living and teaching high school there for several years, so I was very like them, without the sailing. Getting outside the box is a revelation, and I've been immensely grateful for that jolt ever since. But boats, well, I never met a boat I couldn't get seasick on.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I are trying to take photos out of albums and sort through, get rid of photos that won't mean anything to our kids, and cull out the views of mountains, waterfalls, etc. It's a huge undertaking, and it's going to take a lot of hours. Also, though the plastic containers said each would hold 1600 photos, no way, Jose. I'll have to buy more. My husband has been more disturbed by this process than I am. He slept badly the first night we'd worked on the project. I'm letting go, knowing how little of these family documents will be interesting to my kids and grandkids. And that's okay. Look ahead, not back, I figure. The photos won't tell the story, and neither will any other documents. We will be a mystery, as my parents are to me, and their story about us will change as they age, as my story about my family has filled out, become more complicated and yet still incomplete. I added to my parents' story by asking relatives close to them after they were dead. But my parents were all about the future, and kept no mementos of the past. They were both so poor as kids that there really weren't mementos, and when their parents died they inherited little, and didn't want much of that. They were all about the new. I'm more historically minded, but I'm not certain my kids care. And that is fine with me. I'm complicated, mysterious, even to myself, and looking back on other decades of my life, I barely recognize myself. I couldn't explain myself if they asked!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I was feeling very grateful today for my women's group, which began a couple of years ago when a friend and neighbor suggested it as a way of coping with Covid and aging issues. We each asked two people to join, but one of hers declined, so I was able to ask a third person. We sat huddled in back yards in masks and down coats, finally, the last few months, as we are all fully vaccinated, without masks and sometimes inside if it's raining. I really bear my soul to them, and their support is invaluable to me. My frend who walked with me to the hostess' house and back, said she I come to appreciate the group and how much she looked forward to it. It kind of snuck up on us, how much we've banded together. We talk about our kids, our grandkids, or health, the worries about our friends' health, Covid and travel. I actually feel I can say anything to them. I'm not my usual guarded self. And I really care about them and their struggles. What a blessing.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend who was diagnosed with breast cancer the same time as my daughter has just been given a diagnosis of metatasized cancer in the liver. Her case, six years ago, was so unworrisome that the stage was 0-1 and she had radiation, no chemo. It's a stunner, and she is being brave and hopeful, but her husband has serious health issues and is a few years older, and I'm sure they both expected she would be his caretaker, and now this. My heart aches, and I hate breast cancer and the havoc is recks on women. It comes out of left field, and swallows you up. Being a witness, as I said to another friend, is

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm feeling a bit like I'm reeling from blows of one sort or another. You know how things come in threes? Well this is way more than three. I'm trying to settle in my equanimity, but there have been little health scares, big ones, the memorial service to get through and then thank all the participants, our credit card needing to be replaced (long story), health scares of friends, struggles of grown kids, worry over grandkids, and then the rain/flood conumdrum. I want to escape, then the phone rings, and my heart begins pounding. This time of life, I know, is when health of self and friends is relentlessly troublesome, and also the kids begin worrying and trying to micromanage our lives. It hurts our feelings, and yet, they mean well. I didn't go through this with my parents, because they died at 61 and 65, but even the little I had to take over in my father's case, offended him, like power of attorney and how I wouldn't take the furniture in their house before he was even dead. I teased him that we'd have no where to sit if I did, but he wanted to know that his possessions had value. He was letting go and not letting go. Maybe that's what I'm doing as well. Trying to take care of myself mentally has been hard lately, with all the crises and the splintering of my attention. I want to rescue and every single problem cannot be fixed by me. Prayer, that's about all I've got. Frustrating.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I spent the middle of yesterday doing cosy things. I had lunch with my Buddhist swim buddy at a Thai place she loves to eat, comforted with the suchi like rolls with a crunchy center. We took a long time to eat and catch up. Then I declined going back to her place, two blocks away and instead stopped by the yarn shop and picked out bright yellow and bright lime green yarn so I can get back to my therapy knitting. Then I stopped at the bookstore there, and chatted with two women about "The Other Black Girl", which I loved when I read it. I searched for two old Lisa Gardner mysteries, and John Grisham's new legal thriller, and lugged the two shopping bags back to the car. I came home and read and made dinner of chicken quesadillas and we watched "Seabisquit". I love that movie, just as I loved horse stories as a child. Though my parents couldn't afford riding lessons for me, I made sure my first two kids had lessons starting in kindergarden and first grade. They did western riding for five years, then, when we moved to Colorado, switched to English riding, and our older daughter continued it through college. She was on the equistrian team. I empathasize more with horses and other animals than with people, I sometimes think. The movie is perfectly cast and with the narration by David McCullough, it is a heartfelt experience. I cry a lot anyway these days, but my tears watching the little horse with a big heart are relieving. My Buddhist name, given me when I took my vows over thirty years ago, is "Great heart, silence perserverence". I try to keep my heart open at all times.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I took a two hour walk with a friend today, one who had been gone for couple of weeks. We ended up sitting on a fence and crying. She lost her mother at the beginning of Covid, not from the virus. I lost my daughter soon after. We grieve together. She loved my daughter and I loved her mother, so we feel freed up to open our ragged hearts and just MISS them. I'm glad she's back. Sorrow is or can be shared, and I'm so grateful I have people to whom I am not embarassed to reveal that entirely moving on is not an option. The pain comes back like a rogue wave, sometimes when you least expect it. But there is so much love in my life that I am anchored and mostly steady.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I took a long walk in the fall sunshine today. The leaves are gold and red and falling now. The persimmon tree in our backyard is dropping huge golden leaves. My eyes are much better and we're thinking of gifts for the holidays and foods to prepare. Our youngest grandson trick or treated with skeleton pjs on, the second youngest was a caterpillar for a second year, the third was a vampire, and the fourth a cat for the second year in a row. I have no idea what my teenage granddaughter did, and will have to beg for a photo I guess. I've already put up Thanksgiving decorations and put away Halloween ones. Today I found a huge persimmon in the yard, and when it ripens, what a treat! My husband doesn't like them, but I am a big fan. I used to make persimmon bread and pudding but there is no one to eat it. There are lots of sugary challenges for a diabetic this time of year, but I control myself. But gee, a piece of pumpkin pie sure would be nice.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had a bit of sun today, but it's still pretty gloomy. I went with a friend for a walk, which helped, then to the grocery store to get stuff. I had bought two coucous salads there, and it was so nice to have something I had not prepared. Tonight we're having Coq au Vin, which is easiest dinner to make. I wish my husband could cook, but he's tried, and several friends have tried to teach him, to no avail. He can make salads, and cook turkey bacon and do a mean grilled cheese sandwich. But anything else requires twice the time as doing it myself, because I have to instruct him every step of the way. I send him out to pick up food. But he cannot plan a meal at all. He also doesn't plan outings, or walks or gardens or anything. Yet he's not passive, and he will get up and go most places if I ask him to, but there isn no initiation. He was raised by a strong grandmother, and he just goes with the flow. At least around outings and cooking. He resists all change, out of anxiety. I pick my battles on changes and otherwise do my own thing, with my friends. That's how we cooperate. Our big compatibility was travel and art, and Covid has swept that away, but hopefully we'll resume gradually. He's got his Covid booster appointment Saturday, then we're good to go.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had to see the eye doctor again this morning, and again he was reassuring. I had this shadow thing that will take 6-12 months to go away, and now I have a syndrome that causes my brain to push up images onto my eyesight unbidden, but it will too hopefully fade. See him again in three months and try not to stress about it. In my case, seeing is not believing, and my brain wants to fill in the images that the shadow obscures. Don't believe what you see. The brain is an amazing, crazy, astounding thing! Mine especially. So don't listen to a thing I say, because what do I know?! We had a few trick or treaters last night, as we watched Mel Brooks' "Young Frankenstein". It seemed quite male adolescent oriented, but the silliness looked like it was fun to make. Great art it's not, but that wasn't what we were aiming for. Now it's November and panic time for the holidays.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We spent some time with our daughter, son-in-law and two grandchildren, as well as our son-in-law's parents visiting from the east. There was a supposed block party, but it was unplanned and the hours too long, and it was kind of depressing. Somebody should have organized it. We had a good time anyway, seeing the next block's over-the-top decorations, maybe between twentyfive and fifty. Lots of blood and gore, blow up cats and hearses, and a frankenstein being electrocuted. We keep the little boys away from the gory side as much as possible. The the boys and their dad played games in the street and another boy joined in. We had sandwiches on a card table on the sidewalk. Then my husband and I went home, so the other grandparents could have the trick or treating experience by themselves. Our area has the little parade then candy passed out or left by the door for two hours. We are doing the honor system, because our block has a lot of stairs. I'll leave the candy out and whatever happens happens. Last year I sat on a chair on the garage roof and watched the costumes for a while, but really our hub is not that active. There are certain streets we used to take our children to when they were at home with us, but now, we don't bother. We're happy with the photos sent from our kids. It's their turn now.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I closed down our cabin yesterday. We drove up three hours, dragged the deck furniture inside, put on the heavy wooden shutters, drained he water tank, shut off the water, and most exhausting of all, struggled with the canoe to get it under the deck and on its side so water won't fill it. The canoe only weighs seventy pounds, but you'd think it was seven hundred pounds. And it's long and awkward. Luckily, the guy who rakes our pine needles carted it up the hill for us, but he didn't have a key to get it under the cabin. Anyway, we were exhausted but relieved when we got back home at six pm. I had cleverly ordered dinner and it arrived on our doorstep a minute before we did. So we ate mediterranean food and watched "Practical Magic", continuing our Halloween theme. The night before it was "Arsenic and Old Lace" and maybe tonight "Shawn of the Dead". Anything to help take my mind off my vision problems, which now include flashes of scenes and other strange stuff. I may have to call the eye doctor again on Monday. In the meantime, texting and talking with friends is distracting and tomorrow we will see our grandsons for lunch and a bit. Today we Facetimed with another grandson who was thrilled with the felt kitty on a pumpkin I sent him. Children do adore this holiday.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The last two days have been scary for me, because I have macular degeneration in one eye, and I rely on my "good" eye to read and drive. But on Tuesday shadows were forming in my good eye, and I was afraid it was a bleed. That means you need to get to your retinal doctor pronto, so he can give you laser or an injection in the eye, after taking antibiotics in the eye for several days. Time is of the essence. My anxiety level shot up like a rocket. Luckily, I got an appointment yesterday morning, and still luckier, it was my doctor's first day back from his vacation, and after laser scans and looking carefully, he said my eyes were stable, but I had two big floaters from the back of the retina which had come loose and were causing the shadows I saw. I have to see him in a couple of months again, but what a relief to know it wasn't glaucoma or a bleed. I have lived with my eye condition for nearly twenty years, but I shove the fear aside most of the time. I even still drive, as my bad eye has lots of vision, just not the central part. I think the trauma of my daughter's death, then the recent virtual service, shook me up so much I really, really didn't feel able to face the blindness threat. Not now, maybe later. Of course that is not the way life works. When my brother died, I had an eye bleed and squamous cell carcinoma on my forehead, which required MOHs surgery. So I've been worried my skin cancer or eye would act up again, because what can you do about that kind of stress? Swallow it? It wraps you up in a snake like vice. So, needless to say, I feared the worst. But it was not the worst, and I have an eye doctor I'm crazy about, and I do count my blessings, every single day.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I vacuumed this morning and dusted, and he washed the kitchen floor. We have a lot of maintenance tasks this week, with the plumber coming tomorrow to see if we can turn on the water heater, and the next day the furnace repairperson coming to see if we can turn the furnace back on, then Friday we are driving to the cabin to winterize it. Lots of chores, but kind of our own fault because we take care of things in spurts, then ignore tasks for weeks, then tackle something again. It's difficult to get behind these relentless tasks that must be repeated ad infinitum. It's a gloomy day today, with no sun, cool, and we of course have no heat. I'm toasting myself in my studio with an electric heater, and reading a delightful book about writing fiction "What about the Baby?" by Alice McDermott. It's lively and a kind of mini memoir. Her references to authors and the abundance of quotes are fun to read. I doubt it will inspire me to write, but that is not my purpose in reading it. I've only read one of her books, so it's not that either. It's her enthusiasm and it's contagious. She reminds me why I've always loved reading. Joy.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We stayed up half the night pumping water out of our basement. We had to shut off the water heater and furnace in case they shorted out. We went to bed around one am and awoke this morning to sunny skies. There are branches all over the yard, but no big ones. Our stairs out front yesterday looked like a waterfall, but now is just inert puddles. We needed rain so badly, but unfortunately, a pressure system like this caused a lot of runoff and waste. The dry earth couldn't hold what it needed, and a lot if it poured down sidewalks and roads. Hopefully, it helped put out the fires. And it's better than nothing - what we've had up until now. Our neighbor cat, Toby, came by and meowed. He's frustrated there is no seed in the bird feeder, therefore no dreaming of leaping six feet in the air and catching a bird. He visits every day, just to check. We have a delusion that he keeps the mice and rat population down, but probably he only eats Fancy Feast. I sent off Halloween boxes to my grandkids. And books to a couple of my kids. I LOVE mailing things.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The Women's group I'm part of had a lively discussion about misogny this morning, discussing the attacks in England at clubs of men injecting syringes with paralyzing drugs into the backs or arms of unsuspecting females. There has been a huge reaction and protests from women's groups there and demand for safety procedures and protections. Some of the women in my group thought that this kind of attack on women was from the beginning of history and others that media coverage has emboldened men to acts that they would not have done in the past. Misogny is on the rise or it isn't, but it's the elephant in the room is at least receiving more attention. Women are speaking out and no longer taking the blame for being victimized. Some powerful books have been published that force people with easy answers to rethink what risks girls and women bear in our culture and others. Women live in fear because of the patriarchy, and that's okay with a lot of men. Control. Violence and fear control women's movements, choices and actions. Enough is enough.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I talked a long time to a friend on the opposite coast, catching up, sharing stories, and laughing. She is having a very dramatic life these last couple of years and I don't mean Covid. We are a shared history from when we were eight. We took different paths, lived in different areas of the country, but we always held each other in our hearts, and our connection grows stronger. We've met each other's kids, but it's through our talks that we really feel we KNOW them. And we each have son/grandson with the same name. We are both horribly opinionated, and yet, not rigid. At least I hope not. I'm not sure if I'm the best judge of that! We're trying to plan a trip this coming spring, if Covid cooperates. Up the coast maybe to Vancouver. Anyway, it's nice to dream.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm reading David Sedaris' new volume of his diaries. It's quite reassuring, as many of his entries are a banal as my own, but occasionally I laugh out loud. He is vulgar, but it feels refreshingly honest that he exposes himself so ruthlessly. All his prejudices and quirks on display, which makes him so endearly human. And he admits to cowardice, quite bravely, I think. His emeshment with his family, the guilt, the judgement, the agony, the love, is so honest. An honest mess, you might say. He doesn't have one feeling, he lays claim to them all. And he is the absolute master of the serendipitous encounter, which is something that delights me in my own life. The revelations with a stranger while you're waiting for your car to be serviced. The talk with a dog owner while patting his beloved. The hug at the eye doctor's when you discover a woman your daughter's age is having eyesight problems from chemo for breast cancer, and your own daughter is dying from it. The giggles with a baby in his stroller just for the sheer joy of life. Sedaris is us.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday we took two of our grandsons to a friend's house to meet his tortoise. The tortoise is huge, and very amiable, and we got to feed him his dinner of veggies and fruits. He has a big shelter with a pad and heating lamp, and a good sized yard fenced in. The boys were delighted, and even the 20 month old was fearless. They petted his neck and touched his shell. We then walked around the terraced yard, saw the fountain and pool and when we came back around the younger boy opened the tortoise's gate by himself and walked right in. We had to be careful he wouldn't stick his hand out and be accidentally bitten, as happened to my friend one time. The boys arrived home triumphant, and we were relieved no mishaps had occured. We had an adventure, and have the photos to prove it!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today would be my daughter's 51st birthday. My younger daughter and I walked in a botantical garden this morning and sat on a bench and talked about the memorial service yesterday and our feeling around it. Then we picked up my husband and went out to lunch together. It felt healing. I've just finished talking with my friend, and tomorrow I'll be able to get on with setting up my new laptop and tackling the photos I wish to organize. The intense anxiety I suffered on Saturday is gone, and I'm going back to one day at a time. We only got a sprinkle of rain last night, but perhaps finally a real rain will come later this week. The darker days are coming, and the holidays, which I believe will be lighter than last year for us as a family. I pray the covid wanes as well, and people can relax a bit and calm down. I won't say return to normal, because that cannot happen, but at least a release of tension, and a focus on other things. I don't know if this is possible, but I'm hopeful

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our memorial service for our daughter was lovely. All the speeches were heartfelt with many tears, the photo montages were vivid and sweet and the montage of her paintings was well done. Our older son was the host and his wife was co-zoom coordinator with our son-in-law. Our granddaughter gave a beautiful reading of a Philip Levine poem, our two sons and our younger daughter gave profoundly moving speeches and her friends and co-workers expressed themselves beautifully. It was raw and deeply felt and moving and memorable. I believe our daughter would have been pleased and proud and touched. We have the service recorded, so our granddaughter will have it to show to her friends, partner and children, and the four little nephews will be able to understand how amazing their aunt was and how many people she influenced. I'm relieved it went well and also I do feel some closure, in that we will all remember her, and others will come to know her through the recording and website. I am exhausted in body and mind, but filled with love for her and my family and her wonderful friends. Love is the answer.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I thought it was bad before the last election, with texts and emails begging me for money. After the election, I was tired and drained and cynical about money. What seemed to work were grass roots efforts, postcards, calls and writing in to counter lies. But now I'm more beseiged than ever over the Congressional seats and the staggering amount of money already raised by both sides. We could feed the hungry of the world and have plenty left over. Everything about our system of government right now seems to be money based, and our culture is a mirror of it. Throw enough money around and you can hide and seek whatever you want. The more money you have, the better chance you have to evade justice, while the poor are crushed in the system. Is Capitalism all we have left in America? Are all other values dissolved? Good people still fight for a compassionate society, but even they are constantly begging for money. Election money should be controlled, as it once was, and buying elections should not be the norm. But it is. I'm ashamed and despairing of what we've become. There seems little hope with our current Supreme Court willing to step in like Big Brother and attempt to control our lives but protect corporations. The greed for power and money runs the engine that makes us use up citizens for the benefit of the rich. The rest of us are left grieving for an America that no longer exists, if it ever did.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I finished the thriller Louise Penny and Hilary Rodham Clinton cowrote and it was terrific. Hard to put down, educational, characters with depth and difference, issues that are hot button right now. It was fun and I hated to see it end. Now I'm reading a mystery that is light and funny and totally engaging, The Man Who Died Twice. Lighter fare after the heart racing of Penny/Clinton's book. I'm also slowing reading The Porch, a meditation on the author's porch and porches through time. I know it doesn't sound entrancing, but it is, because the language is so beautiful. I'm juggling books for my every mood. I've just gotten into this habit in the last couple of years, but it suits my life right now. And if I don't pick up a book I give it away. Life is too short to be reading something that doesn't absorb me, and I no longer care what others think of me or what I should or shouldn't be reading. It's freeing.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a phone conversation with one of my older daughter's childhood friends. She has been supportive of my granddaughter and the rest of the family, and grieving herself for the loss of her friend. She is wanting to be a life coach, and going to take a course online with Martha Beck, a columnist in O magazine. I'm skeptical but firmly staying in the "don't know" frame of mind. After all, it may prove beneficial to her personally, if it doesn't blossom into a profession. I felt I did succeed in having no judgement, and shared with her some wisdom from my Buddhist practice. But the whole thing felt strange. I wanted to hug her and felt great sorrow at some personal stuff she revealed to me. But I also know I haven't much to give right now, and absolutely no words of wisdom. Her mother is dead, but I'm not her mother, and I'm a grieving mother myself. It's difficult to balance these things in the best of times, but right now, not only do I feel a bit looney, but the world world is off it's axis. I cannot help anyone right now.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I watched "Saving Mr. Banks" again last night. The acting is marvelous, and the story of P.L. Travers and her adventures with Walt Disney riveting. The compassion Walt Disney showed to her may be fiction, but it is touching, and I love that he knew intuitively that she had a childhood wound that had not healed, because he had one himself. By creating Disneyland he gave himself a different childhood than the harsh one he experienced. And ultimately, he offered Travers a different ending than the one she endured in real life. Paul Giamatti is wonderful as well, as a father with a handicapped child. Who was it that said that we keep struggling with what happened to us up to age eight for the rest of our lives? It's often true. Looking back, I see three big moves in my life, the death of my favorite uncle, and the loss of my huge family by moving first down South, then to the West Coast. Starting over three times. My sense of being "new" permeates my childhood, and also people I love dying, and no one willing to talk about it. We must take a good long look at early childhood, and as uncomfortable as it makes us, come to terms with it. A very challenging task.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

This is the second day of wind, and wind makes us very nervous here. There are lots of branches down and not as many people walking. I was talking to someone on the east coast recently and she was surprised that I have emergency supplies in my front hall closet and in my garage. I told I'd had them for decades and they have to be replenished as they expire. The double threat of earthquakes and fires hangs over us. Today is sunny, but the covid news for us older folks is not good, as we turn out to be more vulnerable than tiny children or any other group, even vaccinated vs unvaccinated. Our immune systems just aren't up to snuff. And my daughter is having problems with rude parents in her school. The head of the school says they've never had these issues before, but even here, which is supposed to be liberal, rudeness and bad behavior and belligerence is rearing it's ugly head. As I walked back from a foray into a bookstore, cars were honking both ways, and my city is not a honking city, but all politeness and patience has evaporated, and as I cross in the the crosswalk drivers are turning in front of me and almost running me down. Drivers are nutsy. Strange days.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My Buddhist teacher talked yesterday about pride. I didn't think it would be very interesting, in the beginning, but of course it turned out to be insightful. He said people with outsized pride are inside insecure and unsure of themselves. Because pride is not healthy, but confidence is. Confidence helps make people around you want to be with you, and doesn't prohibit you from trying new things or taking certain risks. You don't think you will necessarily succeed, but you are interested in the process not success or failure. Pride compares yourself with others falsely and makes differences between people. Of course we are proud of ourselves for our college degrees or finishing a painting or helping others, but dwelling on it as something that makes us more important than another person is distortion and destroys equity. He applied it to people who think their political perspective makes them more "knowledgeable" or "rational", which sets us above people who do not agree with us. Pomposity is unattractive no matter what the argument. Congratulating oneself on not thinking like those other, more ignorant people, is ugly and distorting. A little warning to some of us liberals not to make difference where there are possibilities for consensus. Always be on the lookout for ego, it tends to sneak up on us and make us less compassionate than we can be.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had an hour long phone conversation with my ex-son-in-law's mother, who lives on the opposite coast. We are quite fond of each other, and talk every few weeks. She's ten years older than I, but we have a lot in common. We both had four kids, we both have one grandaughter ( the same individual), we both love Louise Penny, and are voracious readers. She was telling me about a TV interview she saw with Penny and Hilary Clinton, about their new book together. She said it sounds fascinating. We discussed Goldfinches, who are dying from a bacterial infection, then birds in general and how electric lights at night are disorienting millions of birds in their migrations, then, of course, our mutual 13 year old granddaughter, and the weather - she has a lot of it, we have none. I heard the story of her oldest son, who lived in Southern California, until an earthquake destroyed his house and caused him to relocate to Pennsylvania. I described the three fires we had to evacute for, none of which destroyed our house. We worried over the Sequioas burned and in danger as we speak. We laugh a lot, and she is my ideal of one of Jane Austen's "amiable" characters. The divorce of our kids has only strengthened our bonds, and I can count on her support whenever I call. It's a special relationship.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is our oldest grandson's birthday. He's turning six. Tomorrow the family is driving to Traintown to celebrate. I Facetimed with him when he was in the car after being picked up by his dad from kindergarten. He had on his crown birthday hat and was clearly thrilled. He's not a little boy anymore. He's getting gangly and his face is not a round baby face. How surprised we were when we were out to dinner with my cousin and his parents and my daughter-in-law handed me a card, and inside was an ultrasound of him. He was in profile and had the turned up nose of his mother1 We were so thrilled because they had been married over fifteen years and didn't seem interested in having a child. He's been the sunshine in their lives and a joy to us ever since. Our granddaughter is seven years older, and now she has four bungly boy cousins: 6, 4, 2, and 1. It's like having a basket of kittens. Andway, happy birthday to a dear fellow whom we love dearly.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Out of the blue I received an email that an old friend had died, at 66. They live in Illnois, and we have known them for forty years, yet they had not communicated for a while, so we assumed everything was well. But the wife had cancer, and today her husband emailed, including the funeral service, where to donate, and a video option to film a message. She was so young, and a school psychologist. Their daughter lived out here for a while and they stayed with us several times when they came out to visit her. I assume our friend chose not to share her diagnosis and treatment with others. Many people don't like to be considered a victim. They don't want the cards and flowers and fruit baskets and prayers and calls. I respect that, but it does leave my husband and I with the feeling that we've missed the boat, and cannot grieve adequately. The shock is too great. I feel for our friend, his daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter and son. But the lack of connection for so long makes this seem surreal and unabsorbable.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

There is a chill in the air that is making the arthritis in my lower back act up. I walked to the post office this morning and felt achy after. I traipsed down the stairs into the basement and brought out my Halloween decorations, little as they are after giving most to my kids over the years. But I have fake pumpkins (the squirrels eat real ones), a sign for the door that says Welcome My Pretties, a small crow, a black cat with a Halloween hat on, a felt cat on top of a pumpkin, a black plastic kettle where I put candy to give out, and some small pumpkin people and a moon and child with a black lantern. I enjoy Halloween because no presents are necessary, and I love to the kids' costumes, and some of our neighborhoods decorate so elaborately that it is fun to walk around, day or night. A couple of blocks away from us a house has these giant, car sized spiders around and over the front door, and this year some children have painted pumpkins in psycadelic colors. A lot of imagination is at play. My husband and I used to dress up and go to parties, and we made an effort with our kids' costumes. Now I admire how my kids dress their kids - witty and fun. I don't know what they are going as yet, but I am pretty sure I will be delighted.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm in a mood. Deciding not to try to fly up for the virtual memorial service is probably the right thing to do, but it's depressing. Hopefully, this Delta mess will subside and I can travel later. I feel kind of mired in quicksand. I'm bored, restless, afraid, feeling elderly and vulnerable. I saw today in the news that the people who are vaccinated are cautious and not testing the waters of inside dining or travel, etc., while the unvaccinated are out there on a limb drinking, dining, seeing shows and games and traveling. This is not reassuring, because if I feel brave, I'll be galavanting around with the unvaccinated. As I told my dentist yesterday, I don't really want to go to our cabin, because nobody there is vaccinated or masking, and they are downright hostile to people who wear masks. Their numbers of cases are way up too, so it's not a safe environment. And people become angry and belligerent if you wear a mask. I feel safer in my area, where people mask and are careful, and the numbers are low. What a mess! I'm weary.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend and I walked this morning, and she told me about putting her baby granddaughter in a kind of hammock her daughter has in her back yard, and somehow the baby flipped out and fell on the side of her face. Everyone was freaked out, and they took the baby to urgent care and spoke with their pediatrician and all was well. But it's pretty traumatic to feel responsible for your granddaughter's fall, and my friend was quite shaken. It's what all us grandparents dread, but with the normal outcome of no harm done. Luckily, babies are like jellyfish, and usually bounce back without disaster. When I was in Fiji, with my first child, a friend of my mother's had sent an infant seat, this was 52 years ago, and I put my son in it, and before I could strap him in, the seat flipped and fell on the floor with our big portable stereo coming down on top of it. I screamed, my husband came running, and the neighbor in the downstairs flat ran up and bundled us into the car to go to the emergency room. How relieved and grateful we were that he was absolutely fine. I never used that seat again, and never had one for my other three kids. But I never forgot how suddenly even little babies can move or twist. It's a wake up call to how on alert we must be.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I visited an elderly friend yesterday and took her out for a walk in a nearby rose garden. She is in a care center, after a heart attack and bad fall. Nevertheless, she is sharp as a tack and manuevered herself well in and out of the car and with the walker when we arrived at the park. We wandered around and tried to smell the various roses, but most we tried, after taking off our masks, were not scented. It was a warm, beautiful day, and she wanted to go for ice cream, but it was a Saturday, and the place was packed. Then she suggested a tea place, but the ones I knew of are closed, due to the pandemic, so we returned to her facility and she showed me around the public rooms and then up to her room, which was nice. We sat there and talked for an hour. I told her I have not eaten inside since the covid, and didn't really know anymore where to go and what had outside seating. I'm not sure if she has. Her situation is nice, and the people are friendly, but there is no outside space anywhere, and no balconies, so fresh air is a problem. The building is around big box stores, without any parks or public spaces close enough to walk to, and therefore it seems to me claustrophobic and sterile. She is dependent on family or friends to take her out, and most of the group activities organized inside she says are poorly attended or don't happen. She seems comforted by the safety of the place. But she's used to going out a lot and seeing art, music and other things. I felt a bit sad last night. She is 93, so she is probably not going home again. But maybe the change I'm witnessing is harder for me than her. Safety first at that age.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

A column I like to follow in my local newspaper, dealing with animals, had a great story today. A woman wrote in that one morning she heard a cacaphony of crows in her backyard, and she looked through the window and crows were surrounding her swimming pool. She stepped outside and there was a crow lying on it's back in the pool. She grabbed a rake and gently lifted him out of the water and carefully lay him down on the path. The crows retreated to the trees, still watching and making a ruckus. The crow got up and began walking, at which point the observing crows went dead silent. She went back inside, and eventually the crows all left, including the floating one. The columnist suggested the crows had assumed the crow was dead and when he was resurrected, they were stunned into silence. She thought the noise was a warning to other birds that danger was near, and the silence was shock and awe at the rescue. She reminded the reader that maybe she should put out some food for the crows, so they wouldn't identify her somehow as the source of the danger, because crows remember faces, and leave gifts for friends and dive bomb enemies. I like to think that crows in that area are spreading the news of the miraculous recovery of one of their brethern. It's how religions begin.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband had a restless night therefore I did as well. But before I went to bed I had anxiety, because of my friend's fall and injury. When someone you love needs you, and you live in a Covid world, you are kind of powerless. This morning my daughter called because her younger son was sick and her husband stayed home with him yesterday, but she had to today. The stress of two toddlers and a job teaching second grade and the paranoia of covid makes balancing everything an almost hopeless task. The parents of her students are freaked out because of their children being back in school, and she has to deal with everyone's PTSD. I cannot help much because when another grandson got a flu right before covid we caught it and were laid up six weeks, so we no longer feel indominable. I hate not being able to help out because of my age and vulnerability. It's exasperating. So my blood pressure was up a bit, and I want to be a fairy godmother with a wand, but, guess what? I'm no such thing. No magic powers at all. I want to fly up and help my friend, and go over to my daughter's house and give her a break, and I'm not going to do either. Shucks!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a nice walk with a friend this morning, and we also did some errands together. She got bread, I picked up Vitamin D3 at a pharmacy while she got her second pneumonia shot, and we went to the bookstore and purchased books. This afternoon I talked to my friend and will, in another hour speak with a second friend. It's a beautiful day today, and the temperature is perfect, and we even had a sprinkle of rain last night. I have a new book of Craig Johnson's in my hot little fist, and though all is not right with the world, and my friend had a bad fall and an emergency room visit, I feel optimistic. The grandchildren make me happy and my friends and my husband, who, when we received a desperate call from our daughter last night because her older son's beloved stuffed kitty was missing, found it downstairs among the toys and drove over to deliver it to said four year old, who gifted us with a picture he did to thank us for rescuing kitty. There would have been no sleep last night if she hadn't been found. My hero!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I stayed overnight at our older son's house, so we could watch our grandson while he and his wife spent the night at a spa. They had a great time getting away. It was the first time since their son was born, almost six years ago. We took a walk each day, did many puzzles, played a board game I brought up, and watched "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs" and "Totoro". His parents had asked us to help him organize his lego stuff, his art table and his kitchen on the back porch. There was a lot of sand in the kitchen and on every toy dish and food. I tackled that task alone, and it was relatively easy. The lego organizing was difficult, but a bunch of ziplok bags helped, though there were many tiny legos that just had to be lumped together. The art table was also my challenge, and again ziploks helped, but his artwork and supplied really had nowhere to be after they were bagged. I expect all three areas will be a mess within twentyfour hours, but NOT MY PROBLEM! It's great being the grandparents, and I was most appreciative when we returned to our home and even though we have a lot of toys for the grandkids, I've got them out of the way and organized. Of course, we have a bigger house and more closets, bureaus and places to put things. And I am free to get rid of stuff whenever I wish, without a child protesting.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I traipsed around a reservoir this morning, but we didn't get there early enough, and it was through the tunnel, which is like following the road to Oz. The climate is completely different, and it was twenty degrees hotter there. Did we bring water? Of course not. Did I sweat? It was like I'd taken a shower: my hair was soaking, my straw hat, sweat was rolling down the back of my shirt, and I had on black denim jeans that fit snugly, so that my legs felt like they were being sauted in hot sauce. We usually don't stop the two plus miles around, but today I stopped three or four times. I thought of collapsing, but didn't want an ambulance to come and embarass me. When we returned home I had a long tall glass of ice water, and couldn't even have any lunch for a while. I had suggested we walk around the neighborhood, but was persuaded to do the reservoir without considering we did not get an early start and not asking if my husband had checked the weather. I won't do that again. We did see some pelicans, and now that I've survived the ordeal, and had lunch, and cooled off, I can laugh about it. But during the walk I was not amused.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went with two friends to see the Judy Chicago show and we were all quite pleased and impressed. We'd seen The Dinner Party over forty years ago, and what an amazing trailblazing career she has had! She's followed her heart and tried so many things. What we were most impressed with was how collaborative her art has always been and how much credit she gives to those with whom she works. Their names are right up there with hers, and it's such a feminist sensibility to collaborate with other women artists. My grandmothers and mother were in quilting bees, as well as embroidery and knitting groups. Each of their completed projects bore signs of all of them. Contrast that semsibility with male artists, who stole, hid others' work on their art, and we end up with "school of" instead of any credit for their contributions. Even Judith Leyster and Artemisia Gentleschi were hidden as the artist behind works attributed to Frans Hals and Orasco Gentelschi. It's so refreshing to be honest about attributions instead of egocentric. Great show!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We're about to go pick up the two grandsons from their preschool. We walk about a mile with the double stroller, then pick them up, lock and load, and ply them with snacks the mile back. They go through two applesauce squeezies each, fig bars, granola bars, and then when we arrive home the current treat is ice cream pushups. By then they are covered in crumbs and sticky stuff so we mainly play out in the back yard. It's like feeding baby birds and they are starving. Preschool uses up a lot of calories evidently. I gave up worrying about their dinnertime a long time ago. These two are in the present at all times. Saying it's close to dinner is like lecturing to kittens. They talk about their day in their separate classes, and we check on the sow bugs and worms under the potted plants, and they attempt to get on the hammock, which luckily they cannot do without our help, and ring all the bells in the garden, probably about two dozen total. Then the younger one walks across our tiny bridge a few times and before you know it, Mommy is there to pick them up. (And try to get them to dinner) Oh, dear.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I walked with one friend this morning, then had lunch with another. I was outside a lot, and it felt great. The weather was hot, but not humid. My lunch friend and I went to two thrift stores after we ate outside, and I got two children's books, little metal trains (Thomas variety), two stuffed animal birds, a 60 piece puzzle showing Snow White, and other essential purchases. I picked out two bracelets and a pair of earrings for my granddaughter, and even a bag and two sweaters for me. All for the price of one of the sweaters. It was like treasure hunting, an activity my four year old grandson loves to play. I guess I must be part pirate myself. I love used things. They have history and connect me with others. I've really missed bargain hunting, and it's good to feel safe enough to venture out a bit again.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is warm for us. We are aware of the Cawdor fire near the Giant Sequoias, and nervous about these ancient trees being lost. Already, last year, 10% of the world's sequoias were burned. These trees have been on earth for thousands of years, and witnessed human history. This week they wrapped the survivors in aluminum foil blankets, but the danger is great. We are dependent upon trees to clean the air for us, shade us from heat and provide a spiritual connection with nature and the earth. They house the birds we love to observe, and all manner of creatures. Last summer we discovered tree frogs lived in the pines next to our cabin. It was amazing to discover they were living right with us and could jump and survive without a water source. When the trees burn they leave myriad creatures homeless and starving and drive them into people's paths where they are killed or trapped and relocated. Fire has its place in nature, but it is man who has made fire into a monster. We insist on living in the forests, destroying habitat, and then we want our structures protected at all costs. I pray we put more effort into protecting trees and animals, and share this planet. It is self destructive to do otherwise.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday I woke up with my right knee really hurting. This sometimes happens, so I took two Tylenol and pulled on my knee elastic sleeve, and I took it easy until the Tylenol kicked in. I babysat my two grandsons all afternoon, but luckily they were happy just being at their house and playing. All I had to do was follow the four year old's directions and feed them like baby birds, and the weather was so dreary anyway, none of us felt like being in their back yard. One of my tasks was to spin the baby's spinner toy as if I was jacking up a car, as the older boy was pretending he had an auto repair shop. It seemed to involve every toy in the house, so once in a while I had to insist he let the eighteen month old be allowed to take the toddler trike or wooden truck and use it so HE had something to play with. I think because both are in preschool five days a week, they enjoy relaxing at home. Finally daddy returned home first, and I left. When we ordered pizza for dinner back home it seemed like a good idea, but it was Saturday night and it took until almost eight o'clock for them to deliver it to our door. We watched the movie "Beginners", which I love and my husband does not, and even today he had two more reasons why he didn't like it. Christopher Plummer won a supporting Oscar for his performance, and I think the script is witty and Ewan MacGregor adorable, but my husband didn't like any of the characters. When the movie choice leans my way, my husband grumbles and protests. But fair is fair, didn't I just watch Dwayne Johnson in "Rampage"? I rest my case.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend and I were heading in her car to take a walk at a nearby lake and when she stopped and turned right a Harley-Davidson motorcycle came from a left turn and brushed the side of her car. He stopped and we pulled in behind him. My friend said to wait a minute so we stayed in the car and he got off the motorcycle and checked his right foot and ankle, then his left. He looked his bike over and we got out with our masks on. He then surprised us by saying everything was okay and waving us off. He got back on the cycle and took off. I was certain my friend would have to exchange insurance information, but no. I believe we were at fault, but frankly, I didn't see him until he was beside us and it was a gentle nudge that we felt. How relieved my friend must have been to not end up with an upsetting scene and a biker yelling at her. He was calm and gentle, and completely kind. He didn't lecture her, describe his experience or waste any words. I think he must have been Buddha!

Wandering Along the path: Right Speech

My husband and I were discussing Louise Penny's new mystery, The Madness of Crowds, this morning, as he finished it yesterday. It's definitely one of her best, and he'd done some research, and found that one of the persons referred to in the book was real, complex and controversial. I appreciated the information, and believe I understand why she brought him into the plot, because he was an intelligent man who meant initially to do no harm, but ended up crossing boundaries in his attempt to help people with psychiatric disorders. Her book addresses the madness of crowds directly, and the inferrence is Donald Trump and his crowds. She is giving a warning as to the levels of harm these kind of people with no self awareness and the drive to follow others no matter what direction they go. She's showing woundedness and where it can lead us. I found it very insightful and thought provoking. Anyway, my husband is not a great reader, so it's fun when we read the same book and can talk about it. I've been trying to find a book club for years with no success. They are all closed. Luckily, I have a couple of friends who read some of the same books, so I have some opportunities to share responses. And I read reviews to get another take on a book I've read. And, speaking of which, I read the NYTimes review of Richard Powers' new book, Bewilderment, and it's so negative I may not buy novel. You seldom see something so scathing, but perhaps any novel would be a disappointment after Overstory.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday I sent off a playlist my daughter made for me on Spotify six months before she died. Now we're going to use it on the website for her virtual service next month. At the same time she ordered a little red speaker and headphones for me. She wanted to get me up to speed. I remember how many great bands and singers she introduced me to, and her excitement when she and her husband flew to New York and saw Hamilton, and she brought me back the CD. Her enthusiasm was so contagious. Typing up the list brought heartache. But often we were deeply atuned about music. When she and her second husband were married, at the rehearsal dinner the night before the ladies of our family did the traditional thing of singing to the couple, and one we sang was Magnetic Fields' "The Book of Love". It turned out she and her fiance had recorded it on a CD to give as a favor at their wedding the next day. She introduced me to Cockteau Twins, Dead Can Dance, Jeff Buckley, Rufus Wainwright and so many more. Almost every kind of music I hear reminds me of her. She played the flute as a kid, then was the drummer in a band. Her voice was lovely, and her daughter has inherited it. She left us enriched by so much beauty.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood, Mr. Rogers. I see him as on the continum of my Buddhist teacher, whom I've just finished listening to online. Every other week he livestreams a dharma talk. This one was a thinly disguised pep talk in response to the the division and seeming chaos in the world right now, and maybe to the the twentieth anniversary of 9/11 yesterday. The media gives us example after example of evil, hatred, anger, greed and selfishness. Whereas, and I believe this, there are countless acts of goodness throughout the world every day. For Buddhists, emptiness means that things and events have no intrinsic good or bad value. There is form, but no valuing without our minds labeling it. Who we are is more complex than our minds' thoughts, or our feelings that arise. And he reminds us that if we observe the pause between our thoughts or feelings, we can make a choice. Reading the descriptions of people's memories of 9/11, there were countless acts of compassion and goodness. People saved each other's lives, and others sacrificed their lives to help others. Yes there is evil in the images of the planes hitting the towers, but we can choose to focus on the overwhelming response of people around the world to our distress. My older son was getting married in ten days, and so many people rallied around him and his bride and got on planes and supported their love and new life together. They made a choice. Goodness is real. As real as the evil, and all of us contain both. We are human. But we so often choose love and compassion. It is just that those stories live privately, not publicly. I'm glad that yesterday most news sources chose the positive for once.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today we spent with our older son, his wife, and their five year old. Our younger daughter and her family were supposed to be here as well, but her husband had a cold, the younger son a runny nose and she woke up with a sore throat, so they didn't want to give it to any of us by exposing us. Our son-in-law had gotten a covid test but still...Everyone has to be cautious, and so many plans get canceled these days. Anyway, we ordered Indian food to be delivered, sat out on the patio and I played the Ladybug game with our grandson. Then we all took a walk in the neighborhood, came back and had cake to celebrate my husband's and my birthdays. The weather was great and it was a relaxing day. I'm grateful any celebrations are possible. And I'm grateful for my family's health. After losing our older daughter, I'll never take health for granted again. It's a gift, the biggest one of all.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today I walked to a nearby toy store and picked out some balloons, balls, cars, and other items for party favors for Saturday, when two of our kids, their spouses and three grandchildren will be having brunch at our house. These little boys have missed birthday parties and events for a long time, and I aim to be celebratory when they come for my husband's and my birthday brunch. I have hats, paper plates and napkins and a big sign as well. Our family does what it can to normalize our lives. We adults can be around other vaccinated adults, but the grandsons have a long time to go before being eligible for a vaccination. Every interaction with other children carries a risk to them, their parents and us. They might not be aware of it, other than having to mask at school, but the rest of us carry that tension in our bodies at all times. I hope we all forget all this context and just have a lovely goofy time Satturday.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend took the time to write an email about her experiences being with her mother when she died, and how that is feeling a couple of days since. I was so touched she wrote, and some of the things she said echoed my experiences when my dad died, and I was in charge of the care and concern of his friends. I didn't feel ready for it, I was only forty, and my mother had died only ten months before. I got through it somehow, then talked to my therapist twice a week for year, and recouperated from mono to boot. I really empathathize with what she's going through. At the same time in the same week, my dear Aunt died, and I've been trying to support my cousin, whom I'm very close to, but texts. My aunt died on my birthday, which feels strange as well. My friend and cousin are embarking on a long journey. As I told my cousin, no matter how old you are, when your last parent dies, you feel like an orphan. The last person who loves you unconditionally is gone. These are paths we all take, and loving support is all we can offer each other. And the grieving is long and closure is not a possible goal. Acceptance maybe, but the loss is there in your heart forever more.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Whew! My birthday is over and now I have to live with the results: Another year older an deeper in debt, as the old song says. I still have more celebrations to come: dinner tomorrow night with friends, my older son and his family and younger daughter and her family for brunch Saturday, lunch out with another friend next week. We've gone from presents to flowers or less, because none of us needs a thing. In fact, we're all trying to get rid of stuff. Today we had a tree guy out to see about trimming our many trees, and I love listening to him. He's an arborist, and educates us about the trees we have, like the Scottish Yew, the Beech tree and many more. Back at the time our house was built, 1909, it was popular to plant Scottish Yew trees on either side of the front porch, sometimes even with the third tree in the middle, but all that has survived is one on the corner of the porch. Now the PGE person wants us to cut it down so he can put in a new smartmeter for gas. We'll see which is more costly: cutting it down or having a new meter put in. The thing is, it affords us privacy from the neighbor on that side, whose house and yard is a mess. They are always working on it, and nothing ever gets done. It looks like a construction site, with junk everywhere and the back yard a wreck. We've taken out a door, installed smoked windows and blocked our view on the side in every way possible. The neighbors are nice, but evidently have no need to have their place look like a loved house. The owner of our house before we bought it shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't explain it and decades later nothing has changed. Very strange.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is my birthday. I began the day with a nice breakfast made by my husband, and a beautiful gift of Indian pottery. Then I went to my driving test, and waiting in line in my car for an hour because something, I don't know what, happened. I thought I was driving well, but at an intersection a bunch of teenagers were on the median and crossing when she told me to make a left turn. I asked her if I should, because they were bouncing around and goofing, but she failed me right there and then because I didn't proceed quickly through the intersection. The high school was a quarter of a block away, and I know those kids like to tease drivers and walk against lights, so I was cautious. I guess the lesson is to plow through pedestrians. She made me another appointment, December 7, which seems ominous, as the Japanesse bombed Pearl Harbor that day, but anyway, these tests are so subjective. The testers were clearly having a bad day and backed up, and she dispensed with me quickly so she could move down the line. Amazingly, I wasn't too upset, I mean I could write a book about these testers, and I had one that was sadistic back a few years. This one was polite at least. Anyway, my husband and I went out for a nice lunch, I took a walk with a friend and instead of cappuchinos we had Lemon Drop cocktails, and then I played Scrabble with my husband and he won, but not by much, so that was fine. We're ordering dinner to be delivered, and we will watch a movie and it's all good. If you think I'm overly mellow, it just might be the Lemon Drop.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My cousin texted me that his mother, my aunt is dying. She was a firecracker, and political, the right wing kind. But she had a huge heart, and when my brother died, she called me in Texas and her conversation comforted me so much. Her son and I are close, and he and I have visited many times. He and his wife flew out to my younger daughter's and then younger son's weddings. He is an amazing man and that is partly his parents. His dad was my mother's favorite sibling, except for an older sister. My aunt has had a life of blessings and joys, and her joie de vivre animaated everyone around her. My cousin and I start talking and cannot stop. We laugh and tease and he is the best of my mother's huge family. Our politicas even align. I think he's ready to let her go, but that doesn't mean he won't be sad. He was a great son, and spent every Friday night at her house and took her out to dinner, then drove home many miles the next day. A devoted son. And she will live on in him, his three children and seven granddaughters.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Two neighborhood friends visited me this afternoon, bringing back the novel I'd lent them which I wrote and was published in 1993, a lifetime ago. I feel quite distant from who I was then, just having moved back to here and having suffered the death of both my parents in a 10 month period. That was a long time ago. It was good to see them again, and they brought their little dog with them. She was very well behaved. We talked about books and finally about my daughter's virtual service and my friend's wife's death. She has moved on and came with her new partner, and I am trying to do the same. Her new partner is delightful and gave me some recommendations of books by authors I'd never heard of, which is always a treat. There is sorrow, there is joy and both are so interlaced that they hold us up and keep us awake and in the present. I showed my friend my first edition of Gerald Manley Hopkins' poems. A few years ago we discovered that as children we had both memorized "Spring and Fall to a Young Child" and could still recite it from memory. We have a heart connection, my friend and I.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's a sunny day, but the air is "unhealthy for sensitive groups", which undoubtedly includes my husband and I. Should we walk and breathe it in, or stay in and get fatter? That is a question. I believe I'm going with the bad air, as my friend and I will walk later today. In the meantime, I can clear out my car before I have my Tuesday driving test, wash the windows, and obcess about where the lights are and the defrost. It's the little things that trip you up. I will swivel my neck around to show I'm a watchful driver, and pray I don't drive over curbs or do a rolling stop at the stop signs. There are worse things I could do, as well, but hopefully won't. Basically, I have all the long weekend to worry about it. Luckily, I am reading a riveting legal thriller by Karin Slaughter, "The Good Daughter", which I found in a Little Library cabinet, and that's taking my mind off the DMV ordeal. I'm still managing to avoid organizing my photos, but I'm circling around the idea, have the plastic bins out and ready, and am visualizing two organized bookcases instead of a daunting array of falling appart photo albums. See? I'm trying to motivate myself. It usually works, but after a great deal of time goes by. Oh, right. That has already happened!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is my husband's birthday. I made him his favorite breakfast, walked around his favorite reservoir with him and we are ordered a favorite meal to be delivered tonight. I grumble about him a lot, but after 47 years married, it's basically about his being a man and all the habits and behaviors of the species, and since I seem to be heterosexual up until now, that's what I'm attracted to. He has disappointed me, angered me, surprised me, amazed me and been my faithful companion for over 48 years. He protected me from my first husband, loved my children not immediately but fairly quickly, has never intentionally hurt me, stuck by whatever hairbrained scheme I was embarking on, taken care of the kids so I can write, visit friends, etc. We don't share interests except for a couple of big ones: faithfulness (we'd both been cheated on before), passion for art and travel, and the kids and grandkids. That's been more than enough. We analyze movies, he tells me the news in agonizing detail, I like to discuss Buddhism with him ( I mean lecture). I need a lot of space and am other oriented, he is an introvert who loves Suduku and puzzles, which I hate. I read, he doesn't. I loved him from the first time I saw him, and an old photo of him still tugs at my body as well his current state of advancing age. We shouldn't work, but we do. It's laughable, but I don't regret a thing, not even the habits he has that annoy me. He's my steady champion and admirer, and I am his.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm feeling secure as I just purchased books for my bedside supply. I read the reviews, and my choices look good on paper. I have a long weekend to get through at the end of which is my driving test, so I need fortifying. I was surprised yesterday when I realized that somehow I was spelling my youngest grandson's name incorrectly recently. I checked my birthday book. It was spelled correctly, but somehow I'd got into my noggin that it was a different spelling. Both spellings sound identical, and I realized the one his parents chose I do like better, but I have been spelling it the old fashioned way. Well, I'm nothing if not old fashioned, or rather, ancient. It made me feel feeble minded, and the tension of turning another year old in a few days has evidently scrambled my brains. I guess I've been in isolation too long, and nobody has seen me write his name. It was seeing his cubbie at preschool that made me realize my mistake. Oh, dear!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had written a letter to Moms Rising about childcare issues, and last night a person from the organization called from New York to ask me if I'd be willing to be put on their speaker list if somebody wanted to hear a personal point of view about child care. I remember many times when child care was critical for me with my kids and now I'm seeing how the more things change the more they stay the same, as my grown kids are struggling with the same issues I faced. Each of my four kids has one child, except for the youngest, who has two, and I am a witness to the costs, the fight to be put on a waiting list for a preschool, what to do when you lose your daycare and how much it stresses the parents. I feel I'm ready to talk about these stories now, as time and distance have given me a perspective I didn't have before. If it helps in the fight for daycare, paid leave and support for families, I'll do it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I got my booster this morning. My friend and I were walking, and she suggested we walk in to a pharmacy we were passing, and they were fine with it, and now that's out of the way. It's a relief. My husband will wait for a while, but I'm making him safer, I hope, by having mine. Then we had a cappuchino and looked at slippers in a shoe store, and ended with a quick visit to our neighborhood grocery for, in my case, V8, tomatoes, potatoes, etc. I'm always out of something, I suppose because we eat at home every single meal. It's a beautiful day, and while not super warm, 66 is warm enough that I took off my cotton sweater and wore a short sleeved cotton shirt. The cool air is helping keep us safe, I hope, while the headlines are all about Lake Tahoe. I went to summer camp there as a teenager, and my parents took my brother and I frequently to stay for a weekend or a week. So though I haven't been in many years, I remember it's pristine waters and the beautiful cabins and parks and ski areas. I first learned to ski at Squaw Valley. I hope they can contain the Caldor fire.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I have been playing a game of Scrabble every day, and our scores get lower and lower, I think because I've learned so much from him that I'm finally winning occasionally. I'll never have his ability to think way ahead and imagine words he might make, but I've certainly learned to put a word on any triple score square, even if it's low scoring, not to make a lovely big word if it will give him an opportunity to score big, and to be careful where I put a word with the J,Z,X, K or Q, because he is going to reuse it for more points. In other words, I need to bide my time and be patient. It feels good to win once in a while, and sometimes without drawing any of those big point letters. A couple of games ago, we both ended up not being a able to use a high point letter, I think for me it was Z and for him X. We are tough on each other, but I feel my mind is sharper now because of the games. We both notice that bad sportsmanship rears up, but we remain restrained and don't give in to anger. We want to win, but not enough to spoil the fun. I knew my husband could be a bad sport, but now I realize the very same impulses are in me as well, and I'm not on such an even keel myself. Good to know I'm human, and not above the petty feelings. I'm crystal clear about my dark side these days.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I went over yesterday afternoon to our daughter's house to watch the two grandsons splash in the kiddie pool. The younger kept getting shivery and needing to be wrapped in a towel, but the older was generating enough heat to keep him comfy. When they got inside they began getting on each other's nerves. So they were getting on our nerves as well. There was a lot of separating them from each other, interventions to avoid hitting and biting. Finally dinner came and they settled into their version of eating/not eating. I'd brought brownies over but neither child met the minimum requirements for dessert, so we quickly left them to their parents and bedtime rituals. We get exhausted just being the grandparents. My sympathy goes out to the parents, but I guess they are younger and much more energetic. I can no longer remember ever having that much energy. But I must have - I raised four kids, right?! It makes me exhausted to think about it!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

A funny thing happens on our birthdays every year. Mine is four days after my husband's, and over time, celebration has eroded. Our birthdays are always glopped together, so it's either on his birthday or mine, or neither. They happen usually over Labor Day weekend, so it's difficult to invite people over, even before Covid. We've often been traveling in the summer so there is no urge to do a trip of any kind, plus the grandchildren are back in school. And when it's a BIG birthday, mine inevitably gets overlooked then the next year we do something special for my husband. Back in the day, this wasn't true. I threw myself an amazing birthday bash when I turned 50: venue, catering, band, 100 people. The next year for my husband we all flew to Victoria B.C. for an even grander and more expensive party, but at least I'd made a fuss about mine. Now, 60, 65, 70 and now 75 for me have gone by without fanfare, though my husband had a great 70th with the whole family away in another state. Part of the problem is we're old and tired, and planning things is so complicated. The same deterioration has happened with our anniversary. We had a great party for our 30th, then when the 40th came along, the planning got so complicated we cancelled. 45? Nothing. In three years our 50th. I'll be grateful just to make it, but I WOULD like to celebrate. But I am certain it will be up to me if anything happens. And will I be up to it? No one knows.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've just finished writing postcards to Senators urging support of the child care, paid leave, jobs creation, etc. infastructure bill for us. Moms Rising makes it easy to do this, and any action I take feels infinitely better than reading the news. I am not alone, because thousands of us are advocating for for issues dear to women and families. For a country that yaps endlessly about family values, there is no proof in the pudding, is there? I'm praying some of this agenda gets passed, and Congress will wake up from a slumbering moral compass. There is always an excuse: something more important than our families and their well being. These children inherit the earth and need to be raised as good citizens with a responsibility for the welfare of others, and they can, if they are adequately sheltered, fed, protected from violence and mentored. Let's do this thing for now and the future. We know in our hearts love and compassion change circumstances. We need to fight for kindness over power and greed.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I realized that looking through photos for pictures of our daughter who died has traumatized us. We want to organize all the photos, but need a break. My husband has been having disturbing dreams about the photos, and I've struggled with mental fatigue and depression. So we're going to concentrate of getting our trees trimmed and the gutters cleaned, and protect ourselves for a while. I've walked with women friends four days in a row, which has helped tremendously. The weather has been perfect for walking, and we've stopped for errands along the way, doing double duty. Today my friend wept a little about the twenty fifth anniversary of her husband's death. She so missed the support the father of her two children would have given her. She has a partner, but he has not wanted to act as stepfather or to be in her grown kids lives. I'm so fortunate that my husband has always thought of my two kids from my first marriage as his, and he is mourning the death of our older daughter as deeply as I. But then he has been with me since those kids were two and four. My friend's partner has only known her kids as independent adults. He has three kids of his own, and his parental feelings are exclusive to them. So she stands alone right now in her joy of her first grandchild, and her husband's absence is especially obvious right now. He would have been so proud and overjoyed.