Re-Classify History

I firmly believe that we must exercise the brain as well as the body as we age. Being more honest, I have always loved being a student and liked school and am always looking for learning experiences.

Hubby and I are watching a Great Courses series called "The Great Tours: England, Scotland, and Wales." It is probably a bit of a slog to those who live in those countries, but it is a particularly enjoyable experience to tour from our armchair. A tour that is not just lovely drone photos of famous structures and areas, but also includes a bit of history, architecture and personal experience from the teacher.

A Castle I took a photo of  in Ireland back in 2014.

While watching one of these digital downloads it occurred to me how those of us across the pond romanticize the castles and ancient churches that are going to ruins.  We are lascivious about the people who lead these times, how they dressed, what they ate, who they loved and how they used their powers to change history while moving through these castles and churches.  We rarely think about those who died building them.

A famous church in Ireland, photo taken in 2014.

As I pause the video, I realize that these castles and churches only existed because there was an oligarchy that took advantage of the poorer uneducated classes of citizens demanding a tax from limited resources.  Those citizens (perhaps like our President's supporters) knew their place in society and gave fealty to the oligarchy, and in turn, might look down on other more poor sinning outsiders seeking safety, to reassure themselves they were not at the bottom of the totem pole of resources after all.

Democracies do not lend themselves to castles.  Democratic religions do not lend themselves to preachers with jets and palatial homes or entire protected cities with secret bank accounts and an ability to live by a different set of rules than their worshipers.

Don't get me wrong.   I do not denigrate the wealthy from enjoying their hard-earned wealth...I just want to make sure it was earned on their own backs,  otherwise, I believe in a more socialized distribution of the wealth that is acquired.

Notes on a Journey to the End of Time

My husband has been on an almost two-week long trip. For those of you who are widowed, this may have less meaning to your understanding of my adjustment to living alone.  I have totally given up the meal planning as I am the only person eating.  I have a batch of leftover chili, a few frozen dinners, and a ham and potato casserole which was left by the guys.  

I have made long lists of projects and want-to-do lists that have been rattling around in the back of my head before total freedom from meal planning days.

The first project was to begin to make a dent in my basement.  Boxes of stuff we never opened since we moved here.  Many folks have those.

I found six of these patio votives which I purchased and have never used!

Elsewhere and not yet found are the iron hooks that go in the ground upon which these should hang.

Above is something to grilled crabs that my husband wanted and which we have never used.  It is going to the thrift shop as is the Sushi maker kit he got as a gift and which we will never use.  I would offer on Facebook, but I think it is peripheral to many of my FB friends needs.

Lots of boxes have been emptied of junk and lots of empty boxes have been collected for recycling to the trash site.

I found files of old brokerage statements...decades old...surely I can burn these??

I have managed to clear some shelves!  I still do not know what to do with the electronic wine chiller which was a gift from son and which we have not yet used.  When I have company and open wine it rarely has time to lose its cool temperature!

Just to let you know I do not have a real wine cellar as some I have seen in friends and relatives homes.

I did buy this item below from the behemoth  Amazon while I was cleaning for storage and it arrived in two days.

This Lionel Richie has to be a daughter's album...maybe not.  Anyway, after I fit all the LPs into the metal file it weighs a TON!!

I do feel that I have accomplished a bit.  But I am also needing some mind cleaning.  When I finished today I returned to my computer and I came across this handwritten note on the table below my computer screen (my best translation):

Camfris Airs
1800's
Holiday decorations
Yellow capsules to rend

Obviously this list I made a while back and have totally forgotten what it was for.  Certainly, I recognize the "holiday decorations" part...maybe to put up...maybe to take down?

Well, now I will get one of those bottles of wine open and put a French bread pizza in the oven for dinner.

As Predicted

They said it was going to be a long and heavy snowstorm. I kept waiting on Saturday and nothing really was happening. It finally started at 10:00 in the evening when I crawled into bed. The next morning before the sun was up I opened the front door and saw this.

As the day wore on we got at least 4 inches.

Yes, it is lovely, but I had a doctor's appointment on Monday, and a 400-foot driveway and an absent husband and no snow service. So I put on my camouflage snowsuit and got the shovel out of the garage and proceeded to carefully move and lift the heavy wet snow in at least the first half of the long driveway. It looked like below at the end of the three hours.

I was tired but not exhausted as I got this far so decided to rest at the gate and save the other third or so for the next day. During the early evening, the snow began again and dropped at least another 4 inches.  When I woke up Monday morning this is what I saw.

Frustrated, I called the Doctor's office, waiting almost 45 minutes to get an answer, and canceled my appointment as most others were probably doing.

I am not going to shovel right away today.  There is possible melting this afternoon, so maybe I will wait and see if the sun helps me.  There is always a good side to focus on and that is no aches and pains, so I must be staying in shape!

I have a Question

Your hubby is out of town and returning the next morning. A friend of his is arriving tonight to spend the night before a trip they are taking together. He is arriving between 7:30 PM and 8:00 PM. Do you offer dinner, a snack, or what? You ate dinner an hour ago.

Now for the Good News

It is a new year and I thought those of us who hug trees, believe in the integrity of science and scientists, and need some good news might like the following information.

1. Keystone Pipeline paused
2. Record corporate investment in renewables
3. The resignation of Scott Pruitt
4. New Congress pushing New Green Deal
5. Ozone hole to close in our lifetimes
6. Peru and Chile create new national parks in the millions of acres
7. Latin America signed a landmark treaty to protect environmental defenders
8. Pacific Islanders take a lead in protecting the oceans
9. New Weather Satellite launched
10. POTUS signed the Save Ours Seas Act
11. EPA has regulated emissions from heavy trucks

I got this here if you want the details:  "Rare Environmental Victories"

Contradictions and Contrasts

I do love to curl up on gray-pending-rain days, the kind of days that good authors use for great prose inspiration, the kind of days that make parents go insane, the kind of days that keep the bars full, and binge watch a few episodes of some dark and somber British/Irish/Scottish drama of the lonely, alcoholic, detective running from dark secrets, a detective who is deeply sensitive and takes every victim of his (usually a "his "but could be a "hers") to heart with deep passion. Hubby, who is a bit of Irish finds these dramas way too depressing for binge-watching, although he can become intrigued by an episode or two.😘

I am not a somber depressing person by nature. At least I do not think so, and no one has told me that I am too gloomy. I am usually considered mildly bubbly and friendly while not necessarily outgoing. So what is it about these dramas that grasps me? I am guessing it is the disturbed hero that I want to be saved from his loneliness in the end, by a joyful young person who re-enters his life or a passionate lover who needs him. I also like the puzzle of solving the crime(s). I am not attracted to the many sexual persecutions of helpless women plots, but if they are peripheral to the story, I will continue to watch a nice bloody murder.  When I feel I need something warmer I will watch something like Midsomer Murders, which requires very little investment on my part.

On very rare evenings I will watch the Hallmark channel with its syrupy characters, cliched and formulaic, but I watched due to a need to see nice interior designs or fantasy holiday decorations or just something you can chew gum and easily watch while fixing dinner.

In the early mornings (with my new Christmas gift of a very expensive wireless headphone set) I listen to the BBC In Our Times from my laptop.  I work my way through the years of titles in alphabetic order....now up to the Fs.  Sometimes I just pick arbitrarily.  This morning I listened to a talk from three astrophysicists on the Kuiper Belt.  The discussion left with a tease of perhaps a huge planet just beyond our visibility that may be very powerful.  I guess that makes me a bit of an intellectual...although these days that is considered a bad thing.

As the morning progresses, I also am finishing listening to the audible version of Born A Crime read in Trevor Noah's own voice and wondering how he got to be so smart and compassionate considering his problematic upbringing.  

I did just finish reading The Tenth Island by Diana Marcum and while it made me want to go spend a month or so in the Azores, not sure I enjoyed it all that much.

All of this keeps me distracted from the torture circus in the news.

So just how are you keeping yourself entertained in our Northern Hemisphere quiet months?

Tabor is Ruthless

It is now the time of those in-between days. I am a bit too old for all that self-renewal stuff. Yes it is the coming of a new year and I will try to do better, but I am not going to re-invent myself.   I will make the silent resolution of cleaning out everything.  All the crap  memories that no one wants and that will be a burden to others long after your funeral, unless someone starts a yard fire.  This house has way too many great storage areas! 

There are some things in the guest bedroom and a closet that I will hang onto for a little longer for reasons I do not wish to go into right now.

BUT, the kitchen cupboards are going to be relieved of all those dishes and stuff I have never used during the 12 years we have lived here.  They will go, along with a big batch of books, to the Thrift Shop.  I am going to be ruthless!

Hubby will be going on a long fishing trip in mid-January and that will give me days to go through his stuff in the basement.  I guarantee he will not miss that box of reprints on shrimp reproduction, which should be available digitally these days.  He will not miss the plastic containers for the jam that have gotten brittle.  And how many empty cardboard boxes does anyone need these days?  He will be pleased that I went through the messy drawers in the bathroom.

The most difficult will be boxes of Pacific seashells in that dark corner on the shelf in the basement that are so lovely but hidden away and never seen!  They will remain for another year.

I will be boxing and sending off VHS tapes to digitize---FINALLY.

Later in spring I will go through my closet and toss anything I have not worn for a year.  I will be ruthless.  (Who was ruth (ruthe) anyway?)

But until then, the days between Christmas and New Year's Day usually looks like this around our house.

Happy New Year!

It's All Garbage

Its all about the birth of Jesus, right?

Except on the day after Christmas, it is all about getting the garbage out to the street on time to prevent the fire hazard your house has now become.

The neighbors (a demographically perfect family of four - once divorced) across the street from my daughter's house have a somewhat normal batch of detritus.

Then the neighbors across the street, also a family of four, but liberal and environmentally correct have a very nice and reasonable batch of detritus.

It was early the day after Christmas and all were still asleep and I was sipping coffee and reading my Kindle at my daughter's house when I heard the rumble of the garbage truck. I had on the water shoes I got for Christmas from my son as I dashed out the door to get the stuff from her house out into the street.  My feet got cold and wet as I slopped through the sump pump drainage on the side of the house and drug out piles and piles of stuff---six trips.  This is the demographically larger family of five that keeps the economy going for the rest of us!

Different and Hopefully Better

In the holiday spirit, I printed a new recipe for cookies from one of those foodie sights out in the vast Internet. We really had not been eating too many desserts, unless you count the doughnuts I bought when the grands were here or the pecan pie I bought from the grocery two days ago or all that mint chocolate candy in the Tupperware. Anyway, I was thinking of Christmas cookies to take up to the city for Christmas Day, so we were not going to eat them all!

The recipe was for thumbprint cookies and would allow me to use up more of the abundance of persimmon jam we seem to have by putting a tiny dot in the hollow of the thumbprint. The recipe only required 5 ingredients, including the jam, so the work went easily. I watched them closely in the oven spread into thin flat spheres of sugar and butter with the ones in the back of the tray burning just a little on the bottom. The second batch did the same even though I turned the oven down 5 degrees and cut several minutes off the cooking time. Now I have two dozen thin almost burnt wafers of confection! They look nothing like the thumbprint cookies on the Internet.

Hubby is on the third/fourth day of a nasty head cold and he did not seem at all dismayed by my cooking disaster as he ate two of the broken ones just like the Cookie Monster does. I do not bake cookies as often as I used to, and maybe I am just out of practice.  He is not out of practice on the eating, though.

Today I will drag out an older recipe that I have used in the past and make different and hopefully better cookies.

Scrooge Got His Comeuppance

I was lucky to get the Grands last week. Mom and Dad had one of their dressy Christmas parties in the city with an overnight in the hotel. We took the Grands out for sushi (a fav) and then home for hot cocoa.  

I did not have tiny marshmallows so cut up some big ones.  The next morning I asked them to decorate my tree. It was kind of a surprise when I remembered that hubby and I had donated our full-size artificial tree to the thrift shop last year and only had the small artificial tree to decorate. But it also meant that they were the age where all I had to do was select the boxes of ornaments with the right colors and tell them to put on the decorations. It was fun seeing them discover new (to them) decorations and put stuff on the tree. 

There was no argument or shoving or anything. They worked exactly as if they were Santa's elves! They alone brought the season of joy into my heart.

(I elevate it on a small wooden box that normally holds other things in the basement.)  I put the cover around the base and then I get a really lovely Christmas tree with an aura of specialness this year.  Scrooge has retreated.

Busier Than I Thought

No holiday parties to attend except for the organizations to which we donate and those parties have come and gone without us.   They are nice people, but getting out in the cold snowy weather late at night is not much fun for us oldies but goodies.

We did drive up one afternoon to attend daughters "Cheer" "challenge." These are held in large, noisy arenas with expensive junk food and lots of crap paraphernalia to buy.  Our entry as seniors cost us $20 each.  

If you are not familiar with this venue, it is something that makes takes millions of dollars from parents.  The cheer group parents pay a couple of thousand dollars a year for a coach, several weekly 2 to 4-hour training sessions, a professional choreographer, and of course very fancy costumes, which the young ladies (and a few young men) outgrow within the year!

According to one consumer report, 67% of the participants suffer injuries.  It is probably one of the most dangerous sports around.  The girls also get costumes that are flirty and youthful looking with bows in the hair, they wear lots of makeup as if they were showgirls...or something else, some wear artificial wigs so they can look even more "Stepford."

I am not a total downer here, because my granddaughter eats like a horse and without this intensive exercise, she would have a weight problem.  She also has a core body that is strong and solid and she is HEALTHY.  She also loves this and has few other things she loves as much!  She has learned a lot about teamwork and pushing through when things seem tough.

The award ceremony after a long day is lengthy and noisy.  All those hormones on a padded mat.  Glad I was up in the stands.  This pretty much took up the whole day.  Wish I would have thought of this as an investment a while back!

Why I HATE This Time of Year

Taken early this morning as the sun was coming up.

All those sweetness and light ads making you assume that Christmas is about buying stuff to make people happy are evil. Not everyone is able to buy food this time of year, much less an automobile, French perfume or an exercise bike! I hate the commercialism more than anything. Yes, there are lovely decorative lights covering homes (adding to global warming), there are rich and delicious foods (contributing to obesity and diabetes), and there are numerous parties where you have to find another fancy dress and hire that expensive babysitter to make small talk with people you barely know. (I do not get invited to any of these anymore, needless to say).  OK, I will give you the music.  That is the good stuff.  (Unless it starts getting played before Thanksgiving.)  Yes, I am Debbie Downer today!

I am almost in tears right now as I type this because that young man who knocked on my door asking for chores a few weeks ago so that he could bring home some food is back this morning. We gave his number to the food pantry folks and maybe they called. Maybe his mother was too proud and hung up on them. Maybe she accepted the charity and her family can eat again. I do not know, but on this snowy day with schools closed, this young man is back asking to shovel my driveway. It will be totally melted by this afternoon as most of the snow has disappeared where the sun hits the driveway. He asked for maybe $20. I, of course, said I would love to have him shovel it.  I am thinking of having him shovel my back deck so I can pay him more.  I do not know how far he walked to get to my house.  I also realize he does not want charity and I am being careful. 

An hour later he knocks on my door and as I pay him and hand him a bag of persimmon bread and homemade cookies, he tells me he has graduated from high school and is taking classes when he can at the local community college.  That is good news although he seems to lack the sharpness and sophistication that will be needed when he moves forward into adulthood.  I ask for his number and tell him my husband may call if he needs a young helper.  He is really pleased with the baked goods and gives me a surprising hug.

I wish I could believe in a God, but this just makes my heart so heavy that such poverty is common.  It is not some Christmas novel, it is real life and I hate that children have to deal with this!  I just drove my very privileged and lovely grandchildren back home with their dirty clothes separated so that the "maids" can do the laundry.  Along the trip they had their faces glued to their various technology toys.  They are good kids, but I have serious concerns about whether they will understand the world.  Even more, I wish I was rich enough to start a foundation in this county that can help families like this young man's.  Yes, we all give to various foundations, but it is not enough.

Looking forward to getting past this time of year.

Stupid Headlines

"Cardi B Shares First Photo of Daughter Kulture Hours After Announcing Offset Split" 

It took me a minute or two, or honestly, I gave up trying to figure out the headline above in under a minute.  I just glanced at the article to make sure it was not something important I needed to know.  I have no clue who these people are, I do not care who these people are and I wonder when we are going to quit trying to be so unique in this world when we hand out names!

I also hate that my life gets cluttered with emails and FB posts about such nonsense.

Yes, I am really old!

Part II of Stories We Tell

OK, now for Part II. If you have not gone ahead and listened to Malcolm Gladwell's Season 3 podcasts 3 and 4 on Revisionist History, go back to the prior post, click the link and I will wait...I will just look at the trees....If you are too busy, then it is your loss. I mean really. You would enjoy it.

OK. Here are three versions of the same event.  (I actually tried to search my blog to see if I had written about this story before but could find nothing, so maybe I am not repeating myself after all!)

I worked as an au pair for a family in Hawaii while I was in graduate school. They gave me food and a place to live and that saved me tremendously so that I could get my degree.

Version 1.
One afternoon my employer came to me to let me know they were having company for dinner and instead of eating with the kids (which I did when they had company), she asked if I would join them for dinner to make it a "foursome." She explained the young man they had invited was a biologist at the University. He had become a friend on a cruise that her husband had taken. They explained he was a bit nerdy on science and maybe somewhat intense, but I might find him interesting and they just wanted a fourth to balance the table. I reluctantly agreed as I was in the middle of mid-terms.  I figured that I would not join them for pre-dinner drinks and work on my term paper and show up before dinner later.

Version 2.  
The man who came to dinner (my future husband) tells the story a bit differently.  He says that they invited him to dinner because they wanted him to meet a young woman that they thought he would like.  They explained that she was charming and interesting.  He had been complaining to them that he could never seem to meet a "nice girl."

(As an aside, I was dating a number, small number, of guys while attending graduate school. I am guessing they were not impressed with my selection of dates.)

Anyway, that night I arrived later than my future husband felt was polite form and we did not hit it off.  I completely forgot that he did not seem to be nerdy because he seemed to be so offended that I was not super eager to meet him.  I remember thinking he seemed so full of himself!  The evening did not go well.  Hubby says that I was really offish to him the whole night!

Needless to say, we did not begin dating right after.  We did run into each on campus a few times and slowly got to know each other, and because hubby is a determined person, we actually did start dating a month or so later.

This year we stopped by on our Hawaii trip to meet up with the couple that brought us together over 46 years ago.  They are now in their late 80's early 90's.  We told them our versions of the story and they do not remember the story as going either way.  They said they just remember inviting us to dinner as a break for both of us working so hard in school.

Clearly, the truth of the story is somewhere in the depths of each person's version both at the time and in the following years as it gets re-told.  

Telling Stories I(He) Don't Remember

A bookshelf of stories from a friend's house.

I am sure that many of us have sat around the holiday table and told a story from our childhood or youth only to be interrupted by a sibling or aunt or cousin or old school chum telling us a substantial variation of how things really happened. Are we lying, are they lying, do we just see things differently, or are our memories plastic and undependable?

I guess the more we like to tell a good story of an event from our life we tend to embellish or maybe just exaggerate a little because we have told the story so many times before and we want it to have a better edge?  If we do that enough, then the story may change substantially in our own mind.  But what if the story is not that old?  What about omissions to the story?

We had been invited to lunch recently.  This was by a couple I had never met and they lived about 40 minutes from our house.  When I asked Hubby why and what was going on his response was that "I  had met the man at the community pool the last time I went up to swim(!).  He found we had so much in common that we were invited to lunch."

We get to the house, which has a lovely spreading view of a river, and when the door is open a lovely, very thin, lady with dark Spanish eyes and bold dangly earrings welcomes us in.  The home is warm and inviting and there are nice smells coming from the range.  We introduce ourselves and I meet the husband who is of average looks, average build, and above average intelligence.  We learn over a glass of Spanish rose that she is from Columbia and this is a second marriage for both of them.  (They met via computer.)  We, of course, do not get into what tragedies brought about the dissolution of both marriages.  He is retired Navy and she has worked on nutrition programs for USAID in her past.

Another couple arrives in leather jackets and pants via a very expensive looking motorcycle that can carry home the groceries if needed.  The man is a retired Navy pilot and the wife is currently working in intelligence data for defense, both in their late 50's or early 60's.  

I finally ask as we sit down to eat why the retired Navy pilot had been so brave as to invite to lunch someone he just met at a community pool?  His wife is laughing because she agrees with me.  This is when I get the other version of the story.

He begins with:

"Well, at first I was not too sure about J.  As I was leaning against the wall of the pool he walked up to me and asked if I had an extra swimsuit because he had forgotten to pack his.  I didn't.  Then after my swim, I saw him working out in the gym and we headed to the showers together and got talking.  We found we had a lot in common."

I think I can safely say that most of us found this story a bit jaw-dropping.  I am not as surprised as you are that my husband asked if the man had an extra suit.  My husband is an only child and the most honest and trusting person even at his old age.  (My daughter was shocked when I told her the story.)  The fact that my husband left out this important point shows somewhat how we skew stories.

Now for another story.  I was listening to Malcolm Gladwell's podcast (which can be heard here) that explains how stories by honest and intelligent people can be so strange or contradicting. Listen to Episode 3 and Episode 4 from season 3 for the background on this storytelling thing.  Malcolm Gladwell has a compelling voice and really good episodes....go ahead and listen...40 minutes long and 37 minutes long...I will wait.

Then my next post will be the story my husband and I tell about how we met and a revisionist ( more boring) version.