Category Archives: family

Teeny preview and garbage pick up

Re: Etsy

I’m swearing that this time I’ll be organized. It used to be when something sold I’d panic because half the time I had no idea where the object got off to. Can you imagine?

In this house, with windows everywhere and decorated walls, taking professional-looking product shots is challenging. Not this time! I’m going to dedicate one of the boys’ rooms to photography. Whee! Lights and props out (and left out) is a prescription for ease.

I have a notebook ready for pen and paper notes. No more languishing listings! But more to the point of a well-groomed shop, everything’s gonna be done on my phone. That’s how I know it’s gonna be different. A whole new level of access and attention!

(As readers here might know, I have an inexplicable aversion to sitting at the desktop).

Hospital update: it looks like N might be staying through the weekend. Longer than I expected. While her new subsidized housing is great, with the move she lost the neighbors who used to check in on her cat. Damn!

The nurses and doctors are taking good care of my sister. That’s something to be grateful for.

Lastly, walking Finn an hour ago this happened: a big green monster of a garbage truck barreled past on its hungry quest for abandoned Christmas trees. Usually these trucks leave a malodorous trail. Imagine my delight to smell balsam instead — great heady wafts of it lasting the entire block.

AND, just as that pleasant sensation unfolded at street level, a red tailed hawk flew directly overhead, close — just above the power lines.

How about that?

Still in between

Dumplings in Chinatown.

Home Depot run followed by Savers. Look at that beautiful linen shawl and swath of Woolrich houndstooth!

Ansel Adams at the MFA — unbelievably crowded. Tolerable because I know I’ll be back.

Watching Bird Box (creepy good with some unexplained baloney that I now call ‘the Lost Effect’ — after the TV show).

Not sharing.

Fitbit early observations: the steps have got to be inflated (it doesn’t take 1200 to get dressed and make breakfast), sleep stages are all in the normal range but I could use a little more, and I really am not that keen on having this apparatus on my wrist (don’t tell K. And anyway I know I’ll find it useful).

All good holidays now include trips to the airport. We head back to terminal B later today.

I cannot believe that I used to put out dinners for four 350 nights a year.

We are all wishing for snow.

Photo from MFA pictured above:

Gratitude at year’s end

It took time to make all the calls — to the caseworker at the hospital, the caseworker at the caregiving agency, the O-2 people, the nurses at Davenport 7, my sister, and then all of them again. I had the time.

When the scanner on our printer didn’t work, I took pictures of her eight page health care proxy and emailed them (today’s FAX?). My sister turns 64 today and is waiting to get the okay to go home, which because of her oxygen needs, will be by ambulance.

I grocery shopped early, made lentil soup midday, and lamb for dinner. Calls all in between. Here, we all read and watched a little TV in a comfortable, restorative quiet.

I am ever so grateful.

For these legs that walk. For a body I can maneuver in and out of cars. For the car. For money to buy food, including lamb, which I love. For a pile of Christmas novels, one of which I finished yesterday.

I am grateful for the health care professionals that took over ordering the home oxygen and guaranteed that it would be in place at my sister’s return (I was struggling to figure out how to make that happen). I am grateful for the nurses, doctors, and social workers who know what to do and do it well, even on Christmas Eve and Day. I am grateful for Medicare and MassHealth. The costly intervention will not cost my sister a single penny. And good thing, too, because she has no spare pennies.

We will bring champagne and cookies, order Japanese for lunch, and deliver — you guessed it — another owl!

(I better post this now because a trio of leaf blowers over at the school and day three of tree work are getting on my nerves. And my sister just called to report not just delays in her release but idiotic tinkering with her meds).

Wending our way

We are frail. We are resilient. There comes grace and aid but also failure and the pull to extinction. We are wending our way, one and all, from birth to the grave. Hallelujah. No really: hallelujah.

Yesterday on the phone, my sister’s doctor poo poo’d me. Her oxygen levels were fine. She was likely just upset about her aide’s departure. I announced, “I’m ten minutes from calling 911.” A short time later, he made a house visit. He called 911.

What a way to spend Christmas! She was admitted last night and is now comfortable. Getting oxygen and other meds she needs. Today, K and I went first to the apartment — put out a few days’ worth of food for her cat; took out garbage; put away the bags of delivered groceries that had been abandoned. Next, we went to the hospital for a brief visit.

We are frail. We are resilient.

The seven of us that shared Christmas Eve dinner have our own impressive list of diagnoses. We aren’t particularly unusual or unhealthy. Just human.

The sense of mortality pervading this Christmas Day, believe it or not, has a holier cast than the usual holiday.

Merry Christmas, dear readers. Hope it is a warm and safe holiday for one and all!

Transitions

One low point: learning that my sister’s aide quit and that her long time case worker has assigned my sister to someone else.

One balancing point: reading the words, “we refrain from protecting them from the consequences of their actions.”

Three high points: party goer who has been studying racial inequity for twenty years saying, “and that’s why I enjoy your blog so much,” then walking home from Solstice gathering in the rain feeling oh so grounded and grateful and finally, an hour later, K returning from China.

Roux baby

Happy Thanksgiving American readers! Yes, I’m using French’s crispy onions for the green bean casserole topping but I’m firmly drawing the line at mushroom soup. Made a roux with real butter and real cream. Tons ‘o fat. I hope my sister in law’s too busy in the kitchen to read this because otherwise she might not have a serving!

Per usual, I found a great Bon Appetit recipe online. The hardest part was finding the setting on my phone to keep it awake. Greasy fingers and passcodes make for an unhappy partnership.

Sometimes when I’ve had it with the news (just hearing “Saudi Arabia” turns my stomach), I play with the dianaphoto app and make double exposures. It’s truly fun. (K and I may have gone out for burgers last night as a pretext to stop in at the Pottery Barn — how I love their Christmas displays! All that sparkle and dazzle show up nicely in photographs).

Here are a few pix. I’ll save most of the Christmas ones for (ahem) AFTER Thanksgiving.

The skyline is Charleston from 2017 visit.

The peace pin was a gift from Liz (I’m Going to Texas, sidebar) and created by Barry Smith of Australia.

What an eight days

Was still awake when K’s alarm went off at five. Ugh. From studying maps of LA and Oroville (to track the progress of the fires), to dispiriting ongoing voter suppression news (it is just the GOP norm now), to the firing of Sessions, I found myself spacing out about appointments and social engagements this week and wondering what overwhelm morphs into. Not despair, I hope.

(Not despair, I hope?)

And what of Mueller? Was he strategic enough to withstand this level of obstruction? Will we be denied? Reading the first linked article below constituted a highlight this week because it credibly outlines why Mueller is likely poised to finish his investigation.

And who thinks our depraved President only went to Paris to meet with Putin? The international shame of him provides a whole other order of gloom.

So I went to a protest. The “red line” one. Not the one in Boston because I was tired. Too much trouble for democracy? Well, maybe. The Needham gathering, though small, offered a shared sense of outrage and worry and could be reached by car without hassle. Get well cards to Ruth Bader Ginsburg were circulated.

Tuesday I worked the polls. Our very civilized polls. It was busy — I gather from old timers, busier than normal.

A pleasant (for a change) visit to Salem came at the end of the week — very little traffic and a cleaner apartment than usual helped (PCA Maria #1 is back, to our shared relief). Doing the Times puzzle together was good, too (the sharing of it. Not this week’s puzzle!)

The North Shore visit came a week after one to K’s father in the nursing home where he is safe and well cared for and nevertheless restless and lonely.

Raking leaves provides ballast. Sanity. Tidying a closet, I can handle. Deciding which project to finish, not so much.

Here’s what I am looking forward to (and then I want to hear what YOU are looking forward to):

News that Grace and family are safe and their property untouched by fire;

The kids coming home for Christmas;

The first snowfall;

The indictments of Trump’s family and Sean Hannity;

The lentil soup I’m gonna make tonight;

Reading the next four hours and 28 minutes (gotta love kindle!) of “A Gentleman in Moscow,” which I am really enjoying.

Reading three articles about the use of dialogue in fiction;

A time when politics does not enter the dialogue here.

How about you?

Article by Ben Wittes: It’s Probably Too Late to Stop Mueller.

P.S. because of the overwhelm, I didn’t finish the draft post entitled “Savor a Little” in which I intended to lay out the impressive Democratic wins from the midterms — all there is to celebrate and feel terrific about. So, I’ll just leave you with this Washington Post article.