March 24, 2025

I wrote this 2 years ago. It is more true than ever because these two years have take me further away from when you were here.

I miss holding hands. I miss hugging on the back porch. I miss cooking together. I miss eating together. I miss just being together doing nothing in particular. I miss birding together. I miss your scones. I miss sitting on your lap in your office. I miss your bread. I miss your pizza. I miss having to adjust the car seat after you. I miss your focaccia with olive oil & rosemary. I miss your French toast on a Sunday morning. I miss you telling me to please be careful each time I leave the house. I miss your flan. I miss that all we needed to be happy was each other. I miss your Caesar salad. I miss our kisses in empty elevators. I miss holding hands in bed until we both fall asleep. I miss waking up in the morning before you and watching you sleep. I miss you assuring me that everything is going to be alright. I miss you fixing things. I miss the scent of Acqua di Parma in the air after you shower. I miss our conversations at breakfast. I miss our conversations at lunch. I miss feeling safe. I miss feeling protected. I miss finding dinner ready on nights when I worked late. I miss feeling seen. I miss our conversations at dinner. I miss your stories about your childhood. I miss your wisdom. I miss you strumming on the guitar in the late afternoon. I miss you playing the bagbpipes outside. I miss your funny dog stories. I miss your funny Army stories. I miss making decisions together after your research. I miss your kindness. I miss you buying flowers for absolutely no reason. I miss your thoughtfulness. I miss how you say my name, I miss you giving people the benefit of the doubt. I miss watching TV together. I miss planning our trips together. I miss going on trips together. I miss the way you look at me. I miss you calling me baby doll. I miss you being upbeat. I miss your common sense. I miss you telling me you love me. I miss you doing the freaking grocery shopping. I miss your practicality. I miss your mind. I miss your heart. I miss how you could figure out just about anything. I miss your curiosity. I miss your silliness. I miss you sharing what you learn with me. I miss you fixing my email. I miss our joy in the everyday. I miss being tired together. I miss knowing what we can accomplish together. I miss you waiting for me in the doctor’s office. I miss ironing your shirts. I miss your empathy. I miss your compassion. I miss your willingness to engage in conversation with just about everyone you meet. I miss finding your doodles and empty coffee cups around the house. I miss the way you interact with my family in Italy. And they with you. I miss the way you drive in Italy. I miss your sense of adventure. I miss your advice. I miss your fearlessness. I miss your opinion. I miss your enthusiasm. I miss your passion. I miss how I am first to you. I miss your grasp of history and your understanding of the world around you. I miss sitting on the park bench across the street and watching the light change and the hawks circle above. I miss finding you asleep in the front porch swing late in the afternoon. I miss you building frames for my artwork. I miss taking care of you. I miss cooking your favorite meals and watching you enjoy them. I miss watching you make photographs. I miss the great care you took in printing them. I miss your clarity. I miss you telling me what that scary noise was and where it came from. I miss how your listened to me and heard everything I said. I miss your perfectionism. I miss your vision. I miss how you approach life. I miss how you need me. I miss how you understand me better than I understand myself. I miss how we agree on almost everything. I miss how well choreographed our life was. And how well it worked. I miss tackling our remaining bucket list together. I miss coming home together and greeting the house, hello Gracie.

taken at my cousin Leo’s house with his cat, Foofie.

C’s last photo, from the hammock in the backyard

Flowers on a random Thursday, his last day.

Friday March 7, 2025

One of my granddaughters got married recently near my house. The pictures of the wedding contained, as expected, the exquisite moments of a private and very intimate wedding. What I did not expect to see, however, was how much my house played a part in it, not just as a backdrop but overall. It’s hard to put into words how it felt to be perceived through the lens of the house I have lived in for over 40 years. The photographer, was visibly moved when she talked about how it made her feel. There was admiration and awe and respect in her words and in her eyes. I was surprised because that wasn't always the case.

When Charlie and I bought the house in 1978, we were derided for buying a house in a “transitional” neighborhood. Calling it transitional was generous back then, we found out later that most of the houses nearby were rented, not owned, some were crack houses, and many, like ours, had been abandoned for years. We were told that Grant Park would never amount to anything, succinctly reflected in the asking price at the time: $15,000 for what we affectionately called 4 walls and a leaky roof. Even my mother told us that, if nothing else, just the land was worth the price. We bought the house on the promise of a renovation loan that did not materialize, the first of several setbacks on the journey to home ownership. So we worked weekends and evenings in between our full time jobs, scrimping together money for lumber and tools. It took two years just to move in, we lived without heat, plumbing or a kitchen for another 2 years. It was hard, there was a lot of blood, sweat (mostly Charlie’s) and tears (mostly mine) as we navigated getting the house liveable in the decades before YouTube and DIY videos. Armed with a rudimentary set of how to books (plumbing, electricity, etc) Charlie figured out how to do what came next while I handed him the hammer or the scewdriver and made lunch in the backyard. Meanwhile friends refused to even visit, horrified at the enormity of the work left to be done. Only Bert Arps, a dear friend and former FBI agent, helped us put up the tin ceiling in the kitchen. Over time, we were able to hire out the rest of the heavy lifting but still did as much as we could ourselves. It became more of a work-in-progress, evolving to what it is today. The upstairs bathroom was finished in 2011. The front and backyards were completed in 2021. There are still a few more things we had planned to do, maybe they’ll get done.

We rescued the house from someone who tried to turn it into a duplex. He ran out of money before he could ruin it completely and then just left it standing for 13 years. The “duplexness” gave us the idea for a working side and a living side, a radical idea in the 70’s, long before Work From Home became a thing. We were told that doing so devalued the house and we would never be able to sell it “as is.” We were told the exterior red paint color was not appropriate. We were told by GP residents(!) “Oh, you live on that side of the park” as if there was an inferior side. Most recently, I was told that I needed to “rip out” (ouch!) the clawfoot tub and replace it with an “appropriate” shower. The list goes on. The thing is, when we first opened the door all those years ago, we saw neglect, sure, but also the potential to create a space that could be tailor made for us to work, design, tinker, build, experiment, learn, play, dance, entertain, create memories and grow old together. A house of our own. We lived here for over 40 years and worked for over 30. Blissfully.

I learned a lot about myself and a lot about Charlie, he could do anything. Anything. Even his own parents were amazed.

And oh yes, the mortgage of $142.34 was paid off in 1988.

Which brings me back to the happy newlyweds. I didn’t know how much the house meant to them. Or to anyone else who walks through our front door. I didn’t know that it elicited good feelings. And considering its history, I didn’t know anyone even cared or noticed. So thank you, Gkids and Crystal, for seeing it as a magical and mystical place, to be experienced, savored and shared. By the way, the house has a name, it’s Gracie.

Saturday March 1, 2025

This morning, I came across this quote from Jameson Arasi:

Rabbi Earl Grollman dedicated his life to guiding others through the darkest moments of loss, offering wisdom and comfort to those grappling with grief.

Among his powerful writings, one quote stands out: “Grief is not a disorder, a disease or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity - the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.

Its simplicity is striking- deceptive, even because it holds everything a grieving heart needs to hear.

In three short sentences, Grollman captures the true weight of grief, dismantling the harmful misconceptions that it’s “something you get over” or a sign of failure.

Instead he reframes grief as something else entirely: a necessity.

Grief isn’t a flaw, and it isn’t weakness. It’s love in its purest, rawest form. It’s proof that someone mattered so deeply to us that their absence is unbearable.

When we grieve, we’re honoring the bond we shared, the love we still carry. The pain we feel isn’t a sign of something broken within us, it’s evidence of something beautiful that once was.

Grollman’s words also validate the overwhelming nature of grief. It’s not just emotional; its’s physical too, leaving us drained and exhausted. It’s spiritual, forcing us to wrestle with Life’s biggest questions. It touches every part of us, demanding to be felt.

But perhaps the most powerful part of this quote is the permission it gives us. To grieve fully, without shame or apology. To take our time, accepting that there are no shortcuts, no magical cure. And to allow ourselves to sit in the storm, knowing that grief isn’t a detour in life, it’s part of the path.

Because, at is core, grief is the price we pay for love - a painful price, yes, but also a sacred privilege. It’s proof of how deeply we’ve connected, how fiercely we cared, and how profoundly we loved.

In 24 days, we will observe the second anniversary of C’s passing. I miss him every moment of every day, now more than ever, but am oh so grateful for the “something beautiful that once was,” for almost 45 years. Actually it’s more like 50 years, we met in 1975 at the art department of KET, starting out a colleagues of a creative team, over time becoming good friends and, eventually, much more. It was a privilege I will hold dear for the rest of my life.

Saturday, February 8, 2025

Exactly one year ago today, I fell off the back porch, and after an overnight stay in the hospital, a CAT Scan and MRI, left with three stitches on my lower lip. I had a small accumulation of blood under the skull that, luckily, disappeared a month later. It was a huge shock to my confidence after having stepped on and off that very same back step literally thousands of times in the 45 years I have lived here. I simply couldnt’t believe it. And I can’t believe a year has passed since it happened.

______________________________________________________________________

I came home from the second round of vestibular therapy this week which, thank goodness, was not as violent and traumatic as the first. I had been dealing with dizziness on and off since Christmas, and after a CAT Scan and MRI (again) I went to an ENT who diagnosed it as BPPV. Neither the therapist nor I believed that it was BPPV but she began a course of therapy anyway. I really need to get the dizziness under control if I want to continue to live safely on my own. VT is very unpleasant, frightening, and another huge blow to my confidence. Between my first and second therapy sessions, I had a fortuitously timed annual check up with my cardiologist. He suggested a much calmer course of action. He’ll decide on Monday after I take my BP twice a day for 5 days straight, if my dizziness is caused by a sudden rise in BP. If it is, he can adjust the medication and alleviate the dizziness without resorting to that absolutely horrible VT. Fingers crossed.

————————————————————————————————————————————————-

This morning, Francesco and I met at Evergreen to buy pastries for breakfast. It’s a popular place so I arrived a few minutes early. The line extended along the front of the building and then curled on itself inside the bakery. A man who was standing behind me, but close enough, was wearing a black T shirt with a whimsical drawing of the Blues Brothers on the front and “On a Mission From God’ on the back. I complimented him on his shirt and he told me, quite proudly, that he brought Dan Akroyd and John Belushi to Atlanta to perform at the Tabernacle all those years ago. Wow, and he had a beautiful smile, too.

Francesco and I had a great time together, eating our delicious pastry and drinking cappuccino in my kitchen. He told me about his surprise visit with his parents at Christmas, his travels to London, Amsterdam. and Zurich. He even brought me a sweet ceramic miniature of a Dutch wooden shoe for my Christmas tree. He is such a dear.————————————————————————————————————————————————

It’s such a beautiful afternoon so I went to Candler Park to check out Space Queen, a boutique that Katie recommended. They were having a pop up show with artists set up inside and outside the shop. Found some cards and a silly gift. Walked around the nearby gift shops, specifically looking for silk flowers for my favorite straw hat. In the very next store, there was a silk flower right by the cash register. I inquired where in the store I could find some. The cashier said they didn’t sell them there! BUT the lady who dropped it just happened to be standing outside the store. I ran outside before she could walk away, she happily texted me the online info. I ordered the same, I’m so excited, all thanks to a very nice stranger and a confluence of timing and space. Sometimes things just go your way.

Sunday January 26, 2025

Vincent Van Gogh on the accumulation of small things:

“Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together. The trick is to focus on the first small thing. Starting small is still starting, and small beginnings often lead to extraordinary endings.”

Tuesday January 21, 2025

One of my heroes, Cecile Richards, died yesterday.

Sunday January 19, 2025

Well, I finally did it last night. After keeping my plan under wraps for several months (with great difficulty, I might add), I invited 3 of my grandkids to Paris for a week, sometime in 2025. They will pay their own airfare, and I will contribute a 3 bedroom apartment and tickets to museums, etc. We’ll figure out meals, and incidental expenses in the coming months.

I had been worried about my timing as Katie was having issues with work and had been under a lot of stress for longer than was healthy. I felt that adding a trip to an already burgeoning work schedule would be too much for her. Serendipitously, she resigned her position a few days ago, taking bad timing as an issue off the table.

I may have mentioned in a text that I had some good news to share but didn’t think it would set off alarm bells. Almost from the moment they walked in the door, they were VERY serious and very curious. They speculated and took bets on what it could be. None of them were even close, their very improbable ideas ranged from my having a boyfriend(!) and about to get married to my being a lesbian(!) HA. I thought that Katie might guess since she printed the photos I used to make the card to announce the news. But no. So there were exclamations of genuine surprise, disbelief and, eventually, a sweet realization. It was priceless and too funny.

What led up to all this started last summer. After a family trip to Jekyll Island, I decided it was finally time to sell the Sprinter. As much as I loved it and wanted to keep it, it was costing me in storage and insurance. Worse, I knew that I would never travel in it alone. I enlisted what I thought would be expert professional advice from the folks at the Mercedes Benz dealership, AutoNation (do NOT get me started on them) and an online website that sold exclusively RVs. In the end, it was all a waste of time, money and energy. And a two and half month nightmare that was very lonely, emotionally draining and exhausting. Plus I almost got scammed. Once again, my dear friend, Tom, came to the rescue. He suggested selling the van on consignment and found an outfit that, true to their word, sold it to a retired couple who, like C and I, wanted to travel across the US. It was a bittersweet moment, I had a really hard time talking about it for weeks afterwards. A few days after I deposited the check, I left for Europe.

The idea for the trip with the kids was born out of my desire to keep traveling after such a wildly successful five weeks in Europe. But with whom? I had already asked everyone I knew if they would be willing to travel together. I heard every excuse imaginable and, yeah, I can travel alone but I would rather be with someone who shares a love of traveling. One of the kids commented after an early blog entry that they were so jealous. I knew in that moment who I was going to ask and, more importantly, how I was going to use the money from the sale of the van. It would be the beginning of a travel fund to be shared with three of my favorite people on earth. Best of all, I know Charlie would approve.

And oh, Ashley, if you are reading this, you and the girls will have equal time in the city of your choice down the road.

The kids right before I told them.

And after.

Thursday, January 9, 2025

Today our nation laid Jimmy Carter to rest. I had gone to pay my respects last Sunday with Jay and Crystal at the Carter Center. It was easy, no long lines, no crowds, shuttle buses between King Memorial Station and the Carter Center. It was very well attended and at the same time, so peaceful. I felt honored to be there as Jimmy Carter was, and always will be, one of my heroes. I wrote in the guest book, I nominate Jimmy Carter to be the patron saint of the United States. And while we’re on the topic of patron saints, I also nominate John Lewis and Elijah Cummings as the patron saints of Congress.

Earlier that very morning, my hearing aid gave out, something that Charlie often warned would eventually happen. I knew he was right, I just never got around to doing anything about it. So I attended the event unable to hear anything. It was an odd feeling, I was strangely comfortable in the silence among the crowds. Almost as if that was the way it was supposed to be. The way it used to be a long time ago. When I was a child, on the other hand, I felt apart and outside from everyone and everything, a feeling I still struggle with today. I didn’t know what I was missing. Jay and Crystal did their best to communicate, which was sweet, but almost pointless. And laughable. The following morning, my very reliable hearing aid guy loaned me a new one until mine is fixed. And yes, I bought a brand new spare.

I still have dizzy spells, especially first thing in the morning. My doctor thinks I would be a good candidate for vestibular therapy and referred me to an ENT. It will be interesting to see what the ENT thinks of my unique hearing situation and…if he /she can still do anything about the dizziness? My BP and cholesterol are still high and I am making some dietary changes, too.

The aftermath of Ashley’s visit hit me really hard, I was alone for too many days in a row. I reached out to others but everyone was either sick or out of town. It was brutal. Also very cold so I didn’t get out of the house much. I tried to keep busy with post Christmas chores. While it was all necessary, it wasn’t enough. I needed human interaction more than anything. Texts/emails didn’t help either, argh.

Bought another heater for the lemon tree enclosure today as it’s going to get even colder tonight. i don’t want the lemon tree to freeze, as it already has buds all over it! Amy came over and helped me set up the heater and give all the plants a drink. I couldn’t have managed without her. And the few minutes with her helped me, too.

I received a very heartwarming gift from Brad today. It was a donation to the Carter Center made in Charlie’s honor. So thoughtful, so meaningful. Very touching.

Wednesday January 1, 2025

Happy New Year! 2025 is only about 15 hours old and already it feels like it’s going to be a good year.

Christmas 2024. To borrow from Charles Dickens’opening of “A Tale of Two Cities,” it was the best of Christmases, it was the worst of Christmases. For the first time ever, I celebrated the day with all the grandkids together: Ashley and her 2 lovely daughters came from KY to spend the day with her cousins Katie and Josh, plus great grandkids and extended family members. But it almost didn’t happen.Two days before, I wound up in the ER with an allergic reaction to something I ate that must have had preservatives in it. I was released on Christmas Eve after a CAT Scan and an MRI revealed no abnormalities. Whew.

Spent my first day of the year doing laundry/ironing and miscellaneous chores around the house. Very quiet.

Sunday December 15, 2024

I miss Charlie at particular moments. Today, I needed for him to be on hand with his index finger ready to help me tie ribbons on Christmas gifts. It’s small thing and a brief moment in time but for 45 years he was there to do it. Add that to the long list of things about him I miss.

And I miss that he kept me young and I kept him young.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Crystal and I walked to the Farmer’s Market this morning and by chance, met two very lovely people, both French. The first was a woman who was handing out flyers for the CFM Atl (Community Farmer’s Market Atlanta) cfmatl.org. Her name was Carine and, after talking with her for a few minutes, she introduced us to a French baker named Arnold. Based on her recommendation, we bought 2 of his pastries which we thoroughly enjoyed with cappuccino as soon as we got home. So good!

I always enjoy talking with Crystal, and oddly today we solved each other’s Christmas gift dilemmas! Ha. Yes, I am talking about you, Katie.

——————————————————————————————————————————

I found this poem in the Isolation Journals called This Living by Amber Tamlyn

It’s going to be a lunar eclipse.

It’s going to be critically acclaimed and win
none of the awards.

It’s going to start as an argument
over what’s buried inside the tomb
but end in silence
over what’s discovered
beneath it.

It’s going to happen on your birthday
in front of the mailman,
while you’re receiving the letter for your sister
sent by her murderer.

It’s going to appear once a week
in your back yard
for decades
without ever speaking.

It’s going to ruin the cake
when you throw an urn full of cat ashes
in your ex-best friend’s face
at her baby shower.
Do it.

It’s going to make you get under
the table
and drink there.

It’s going to explode
right there
in the dairy aisle.

It’s going to make you laugh.

It’s going to remind you
why you can’t go in mosh pits anymore.

It’s going to freeze to death,
right there in your arms.

It’s going to make all the kids
stare out the school-bus window
and sing to you.

It’s going to rain where he is.
It’s going to be impossible for you
not to flood.

It’s going to hurt for a while.
It’s going to have to.

It’s going to make you buy all the scarves
in his girlfriend’s favorite patterns.

It’s going to happen in the wind,
during the middle of fire season,
while he’s telling you
it’s going to have to end soon.

It’s going to be hard
to end soon.

It’s going to wipe out
your entire wildlife.

It’s going to be remembered fondly, your heart
unable to keep its hands to itself.

It’s going to be a strong love,
but only parallel his lover,
never perpendicular her.

It’s going to make you unable to quell
the bad thoughts
of his dainty gull
and her inkless quill.

It’s going to bring out the best
of the worst in you.

It’s going to outlast television.

It’s going to take the shape of poems
left under the doormats
of retired generals.

It’s going to happen any day now.

It’s going to be so good,
if it doesn’t kill us first.

The way things are going,
it’s probably going
to kill us first.

It’s going to be a nightmare
when the Pope gets here.

It’s going to change everything.

It’s going to make your metaphors make you,
even if you don’t want to.

It’s going to sound like coyotes
killing behind your back,
spook like a stallion’s ghost.

It’s going to cost you.

It’s going to sound familiar:
a truck driver
humming Schubert.

It’s going to have to be removed
by a doctor.

It’s going to go into too much detail.

It’s going to use your daughter against you.

It’s going to make you eat everything
on all the plates
at all the hours.

It’s going to fill you with sorrow.
It’s going to fill you with relief.

It’s going to show you
how you got here.

It’s going to say
something cliché like,
It’s going to be okay.

It’s going to be okay.

It’s going to hit any minute now.

It’s going to leave you speechless.

It’s something you’re going
to have to carry
for the rest of your life.

It’s going to get dark soon.

It’s going to feel
like it just happened yesterday.

It’s going to sit well with no one.
It’s going to be worth it.

It’s going to build you back up.

It’s going to get better every day.

It’s never going to give up.

It’s going to belong to you.

Friday December 13, 2024

First thing this morning, I washed my face with warm water from the newly installed bathroon faucet. It was glorious. I am so grateful.

Also that Megan helped put up the Christmas lights on the front porch, Miles changed the light bulb in the kitchen and set up the Christmas tree.

Thursday December 12, 2024

To add to the list of house things requiring my immediate attention, I received notification from the insurance company today that they are canceling my house/car insurance. Their timing, just days before Christmas, is inconvenient to say the least. I/we have been with them for well over 30 years and only needed to use our insurance a couple of times.

In the meantime, we are hurtling towards Christmas and I am scrambling to finish the shopping/wrapping/baking/cooking/hanging the Christmas lights/cleaning the house. I tell myself it will all get done. It will all get done. it will all get done, it will all get done. Stay tuned.

Tom came by to replace the upstairs bathroom faucet that mysteriously blew out a couple of weeks ago. The new one is very nice and, fortunately for Tom, it was not too difficult to install. I say that but he’s the one who had to work looking up while laying on the floor. I joke that he now has one and a half wives. He is one in a million.

Monday December 9, 2024

Spent the weekend decorating the Christmas tree and the house, and making two wreaths. The only things left are the lights on the front porch and the rest of the Christmas shopping. The list of things around the house requiring my attention seems to be abating, the bathroom faucet arrived today and Tom has graciously offered to install it later in the week. House issues under control!

Some great news, Ashley and her 2 daughters are coming to Atlanta Dec 20-25! I haven’t seen Ashley and Ashlynn in almost 2 years and Kenlee even longer. Very much looking forward to spending time with them.

Thursday December 5, 2024

The new WaterWise Filtration system arrived yesterday! I was anxious to set it up and start drinking “good” water again. It required that I do something I loathe: read the directions. But first, I had to get the big cumbersome box out of the ever so slightly larger big cumbersome box. Jiminey Crickets, it must have been vacuum packed, it was snug as a bug in a rug. I supposed I could have cut back the UPS box but nooooo, I did it the hard way. I’m so glad there is no video of me wrestling/prying/struggling/begging/cajoling/fighting/dancing around the room trying to get it out. I even called Kate but she couldn’t come right away and I didn’t want to wait. Sometimes I think I need a boyfriend or a 24/7 handyman, whichever can come first. After all that, then I had to read the dreaded directions. Could the day get much worse? Thankfully, setting up the WaterWise was easier and much quicker than getting it out of the godforsaken box. And yes, I have had my first glass of water, and yes, totally worth the aggravation.

Tuesday December 3, 2024

I saved my own life today. It sounds a bit melodramatic, I know. On my way to exercise this morning, I was stopped at a red light on the corner of Ormewood and Moreland. Mine was the first car. For reasons I will never know, I hesitated more than usual before turning left onto Moreland. I missed being hit by a car speeding through the red light. I never would have seen it coming. Phew.

After I got home, Kate and I worked on the lemon tree enclosure because it didn’t appear that the heater was doing its job. It’s going down to 29 degrees tonight so we adjusted the heater and added a second one, just in case.

I drove to Parkside Elementary to vote for an At Large City Council position. The voting took all of two minutes but getting out of the parking lot took about an hour. I was boxed in by a queue of parents lined up to pick up their kids. I considered walking home and coming back later to pick up my car. Next time I vote, I need to just walk there.

Friday Nov 8, 2024

My future grandson sent this to me last night, written by his friend.

“I had to put this down earlier. Maybe it resonates. If you’re bored… Ramblings of a mad man…

There will be much to say over the coming days and weeks about what just happened. While we lick our wounds and process this through the lens of historical American elections, it will be tempting to yet again introspectively search our souls for how people could be so misled, what we did wrong, and try to sort out how to come back from this. There will be plenty of blame and self-loathing to go around. “Biden set us up for failure,” “Harris was the wrong candidate and we didn’t get a primary” etc. There will yet again be olympic level gymnastic apologetics for the misinformed and manipulated electorate who were riled up by populist rhetoric, misinformation and social media. There will yet again be accusations of widespread racism, sexism, and that America “just wasn’t ready” for a black woman to be president. And there will yet again be post-mortem calls to listen more empathetically to the misinformed complaints about the economy, inflation, and misguided conclusions about the spurious correlation between current presidential leadership and widespread economic frustrations.

I find myself rapidly accepting that while all of those contributing factors may be part of the story, it misses the mark of the deeper truth that this outcome has revealed—American democracy is finally cooked. And you know what? Fuck em.

I think this is the culmination of a values shift that we should have known was coming when 2020 turned out to be so close. Not a shift in policy or moral values necessarily, but a wholesale shift in the way we relate to governance and power in America. When I say we’re cooked, I mean our democracy has failed under its own weight. The chaos prevailed. We had one candidate saying “there is more that unites us than divides us,” and the other calling for persecution and violence against “the enemy from within” and we chose the latter. At the end of the day what I believe was just clearly communicated is that most people in America don’t want a democracy, and they’d happily rationalize squandering their democratic agency in pursuit of a strong man dictator against all caution.

In 2018 I found myself in Beijing on the same day Kim Jong Un was visiting, by total happenstance. The Chinese secret police (thinking I was a reporter) pulled me aside at Tiananmen Square and questioned me. After they realized I wasn’t a “threat” they started asking me my opinions about  Kim Jong Un. I bit my tongue and expressed false neutrality but returned the question, “What do YOU think about him?” The guy told me that he liked leaders like him because you don’t really have to think about too much, things are just “taken care of.” I believe that’s what Americans just unapologetically declared they want.

One of the most prominent constitutional scholars alive, Erwin Chemerinsky, predicted blue state secession if Trump were to return to power, and I agree that movement is likely on the horizon. So perhaps we redraw the maps, take our toys, and build the progressive future we want without having to drag the red welfare states out of the mud in our pursuit of progress and the expansion of democracy. Maybe it’s time to let ‘em rot. We've historically flirted with this rhetorically and theoretically, but always thought better of sacrificing the would-be subjugated and disenfranchised within those states. It wasn't worth it. But at some point, ideological conflict becomes irreconcilable and it becomes necessary to game out and weigh the unintended consequences of secession against the desired end-state. I am struggling to decide whether we have reached the tipping point where we leave the red states to their own devices, or give in and accept our new Christo-Fascist overlords, but I know which way I'm leaning.”

Saturday November 30, 2024

Okay, it’s setting up to be an expensive December. I ordered a new WaterWise system today, not necesarily the Christmas gift I wanted but one I can’t live without. The old one had been running steadily since 2008 but recently started filling the container to 50% capacity. Where did the other 50% go? Also I noticed a burnt place where the container plugs into the filtering system which explains that burnt electrical smell in the studio. In addition, I need to order a new faucet for the upstairs bathroom as not having hot water in the morning is getting old.

On the positive side, the enclosure is keeping the lemon & calamondin trees alive, the furnace is keeping the house warm and the freezer is keeping food frozen and glacier free.

Katie, JB & Josh are coming over later for a simple, no fuss, post Thanksgiving meal. I really enjoy their visits.

Friday November 29, 2024

I thought I was spending Thanksgiving alone this year, instead I had a very lovely day with cousins Brad, Rebecca, Jimmy and grandson Josh. Made possible by a last minute change in plans. The menu was simple enough for me to prepare and soft enough for Josh to chew: pureed kabocha squash soup, roast chicken, mashed potatoes, dressing, greens from my garden and pumpkin pie. I carved a whole chicken for the first time ever (thank you, YouTube) and Josh made the mashed potatoes, also for the first time ever, exactly the way Charlie made them: smooth, creamy and with lots of butter. He would have been very proud of his grandson’s first foray into cooking.

Since the temperature will drop below freezing tonight, building the enclosure for the lemon/calamondin trees was kind of urgent. Miles and Kate came, wrapped the trees with new (clear!) plastic, and set up the heater to come on when the interior temperature drops below 50. It looks kind of wonky, sort of like Bilbao, Frank Gehry, eat your heart out. BTW I harvested a total of 18 picture perfect lemons, last year, there were a whopping 48 of them. Amazing.

Miles also put air in the tires, so I no longer have to drive with the goofy orange exclamation point that looks like this: ( ! ) on the dashboard. I don’t know why but it drove me nuts. He also leveled the freezer after the repair guy came. Another thing that drives me nuts: things that are not level. Peace of mind restored.

Francesco came with a fabulous lunch of homemade lasagne and a beautiful lemon meringue tart. such a sweet way to spend the day after Thanksgiving.

Josh put Max on my TV so I can binge watch Succession, a show about family dynamics that is simultaneously interesting and very stressful.

I thought my very productive week dealing with house/car/garden was coming to an end but today I discovered that I have to replace the Water Wise filter system. Right after I buy a new bathroom faucet.

Saturday Nov 23. 2024

I got up early and defrosted the freezer. It was physically harder and more time consuming than I expected. The bottom drawer was completely encased in about 2 inches of ice, and even with the freezer turned off, it was very difficult to pry it free. After several grueling hours, I was finally able to remove the drawer, chisel out the rest of the ice and put the food back. I waited another 6 hours to see if it still leaked. It did. It was sooooo much work. I googled the freezer’s model number hoping to access the troubleshooting page of the user manual. It said to call the repairman, argh.

I was so exhausted from the physical exertion that I took a hot bath in Epsom salts, then took a long nap. I really couldn’t do much for the rest of the day. I was soooo tired.

I did manage to eat the leftovers from yesterday’s lunch, a random act of kindness from a perfect stranger named Tony.

Another gift of sorts came today by way of my dear friend Mollye. She is undergoing chemo but found the energy and presence of mind to order a book for me that I had read at her house a year ago. I had asked her about it because I thought it would be a perfect Christmas gift for a certain someone in my family. She went above and beyond, and for the second time in two days, I was on the receiving end of a random act of kindness, right when I needed it most.

To my amazement, the repairman came on Monday, three days before Thanksgiving, and fixed the freezer. I am feeling very grateful.

Friday Nov 22, 2024

I have been home from my trip a month and a day and I have had one house emergency after another, especially in the last 10 days. First the faucet in the upstairs bathroom blew out, requiring a new aerator as soon as possible. I went to Lowe’s, Ferguson's and Ace to find a replacement. None of them could help me. Tom came to the rescue once again and ordered a new part from Amazon. Technically, it fits but it doesn't quite work like the orginal. There is no way to adjust the volume of water or access hot water. I may have to replace the entire faucet as I actually like hot water, especially in the morning.

Then one of the three recessed lights in the same bathroom went out. I drove to Batteries Plus twice and Lowe's once before I found the right light bulbs. All of which took far too long due to some exasperating road construction on Moreland Ave.

That’s 6 trips to a hardware store in case you’re counting.

I realized that the wheat grinder in the pantry stopped working just as I got ready to make cornbread, groan. However, I found the instructions behind the grinder and was able to Fix.It.Myself. OMG, I know!

The freezer in the pantry has been leaking water for quite a while. The inside of the freezer looks like a miniature glacier. We had the exact same problem with the refrigerator (they are both the same brand) a few years ago during the pandemic but Charlie was able to fix it. I need someone to help me with this, I can’t let it go on too much longer as it is getting harder to close the freezer door.

The tire gauge light for the Mercedes tells me that I need to adjust the pressure on three tires. Do I know how to do that? Nope.

For some time, my phone has been going to voice mail after two rings. It’s fine for spam callers but not for friends and family. I went to ATT. The technician who looked to be all of 12 years old, said it needed an IOS something or other to “fix the glitches.” He went to Settings, pressed a few keys, upgraded the system and went out to pick up lunch. He came back a few minutes later, restarted my phone and like magic, it was fixed. I wanted to kiss him. Or hug him. Or something.

The house alarm system announced that the motion sensors needed new batteries. Miles was here then so he got out the ladder and changed the batteries.

The power went out for most of the afternoon yesterday. Why I don’t know. If I had known, I would have stayed home and defrosted the freezer. Instead I had been out most of the afternoon trying to negotiate a Christmas gift for a family member. Mission sort of accomplished. It’s not exactly what I wanted the gift to look like but it will have to do.

Also I have no heat. Yes, I am cold. The HVAC guy is coming on Wednesday. I think I can manage until then.

After exercise this morning, I went to Summerhill to run an errand. It was close to lunch time so I went to Woods Chapel BBQ for a sandwich. But mostly I wanted a quart or a gallon of their divine potato salad. It’s the BEST! So they discontinued it! I was soooo disappointed and told them they need to bring it back ASAP and get rid of their cole slaw which is awful.

As I was about to enter Woods Chapel, a nice man rushed over to open the door for me. We stood in line to place our order and had a perfunctory conversation about the menu. When I placed my order, he whipped out his credit card and paid for it before I could. I objected and he said don’t worry I won’t ask for your phone number or anything. I couldn’t believe it. I said are you going to get in trouble with your wife about this? He said oh no, she trusts me totally. I said, well then can I at least have your name? Tony.

Thanks, Tony for your act of kindness. You will never know what it meant to me.