zOld Age Day by Day January 31, 2012

I've already read two books on crows and ravens, but the other day I saw an article in the newspaper about them, and laughed out loud.  Crows and ravens know how to have fun.  They had recorded a Russian crow using a plastic disc to snowboard down hill repeatedly, and crows in Alaska learned to imitate the sound of explosions and scare the stuffing out of the human population.  They prefer McDonalds french fries over the other brands and can read the logo and select them.  They mate and take care of their extended family and even mourn the death of one of them.  They use tools and make tools and wait for the walk signal to cross the street in Japan.  They are fun to watch and ravens up at our cabin area whistle and sing and do a clock, clock sound that makes me turn around and look every time.  But they are up in the trees having fun.

I can see why they have iconic status in certain aboriginal cultures, and how they represent tricksters and shamans.  There is a lot to admire in nature, and the intelligence and ingenuity of crows and ravens is awe inspiring to me personally.  So next Halloween, think about the big black birds, and have a little respect.

Old Age Day by Day January 30, 2012

I'm reading a series of mysteries by Louise Penny.  She is delightful.  She sets them in a small village outside of Montreal.  The characterization is vivid and the plots interesting.  Her philosophising is so intelligent and provocative that there is a lot of resonance to each one, and also a lot about art in each.  I read one, went back to my local mystery store and bought another, then found the others in another indie bookstore and bought the lot.  It is a treat to get to know this fictional world, and see the characters grow and change.

Yesterday I had fun having brunch with my younger daughter and daughter-in-law, and then shopping at Macy's.  My daughter-in-law was spending her Xmas gift certificate, and we wandered the isles, and she and my daughter tried on clothes, and I found a pair of my favorite jeans Not Your Daughter's Jeans - for 50% off.  I'm having to cut them off, because they aren't petite, but it's worth it.  I also got two tee shirts on sale, and imagined myself in a lot of dressy clothes without going to the waste of actually trying them on or buying them.  My daughter-in-law came home with a new watch and jeans, and my daughter with nothing, but she's proud of her frugality, so she was pleased enough.  Every time I'm in Macy's now I wonder if it will be the last time, as the day of department stores is over.  I only get to Macy's now about three times a year.  I don't really shop that way.  I'm not much of an online shopper, but I have favorite little stores, and for underwear and socks I end up at Target or a little local department store in Oakland.  I do shop locally, and independently mostly, but it's a strange world of now big stores, except for the hideous ones, which I avoid.  Target is getting to be less satisfying as well, as it morphs into a grocery store.  I go less and less.  So I am watching this transition, but ambivalent about it.  My kids, well, they are online shoppers.  They have no nostalgia, and no loyalty, and online serves them better.  But me, I liked the deja vu of yesterday's outting, reminding me of big trips to Richmond, Virginia, and the magic of the big department stores, and the perfume smells and lights and mannequins.  Soon to be over.

Old Age Day by Day January 29, 2012

I enjoyed a lovely day yesterday.  I took a long walk, was out with friends, meditated and heard a great dharma talk, and generally basked in the sunshine.  Today I'm headed up with my younger daughter to see my daughter-in-law and have brunch and shop.  It's gorgeous out. 

One of the subjects Adyashanti discussed was memory, and how it is not who we are.  I've been contemplating this idea a lot.  Our memories are often not true memories, because they are moments told to us over and over by others.  Also, the brain hides and reveals different angles on the same events over time.  And we change the story of the memory every time we speak of it, so it's relationship to the truth of what happened becomes more and more distant.  Memories create a veil over who and what we have experienced, and then pop up and surprise us.  It might be that they no  more define us than our dreams.  They are thoughts sweeping over us, but do we own them?  I now see some of my early memories as stories my parents and others told about me, but they reveal nothing about the complex little being I was.  They were portable and succinct, but were they real?  I trust only two memories from before I was five, and those I trust because no one else would ever bother to tell them, or know what I felt.  The first was standing in front of a mirror in our house and feeling angry because my mother had given me a haircut and I hated it, and her, because she was responsible for it.  She would never tell that story, and I wouldn't either.  It's not pretty.  The second is standing by our car on an overpass in Kansas City and looking all around the train yards and seeing nothing but water.  There had been a huge flood.  It felt bizarre and and unreal to see it, but it was real.

But stuff about me and my brother, about him peeing on me when they brought him home from the hospital - it could be true, it makes a great story, but do I really remember it?  No.  I remember seeing my mother, whom I hadn't seen for two weeks, come through the door with a bundle in her arms.  I remember unbearable tension.  That's all.  The story makes it so much less - a funny ancedote, not the painful, confusing,  huge shift in my life. 

I don't believe we need to get our memories back.  If we need them, they'll come to us.  But they are not us.  They are stories that may or may not be true.

Old Age Day by Day January 28, 2012

I'm off to sit with a friend and her two friends.  I know, it sounds like an elderly thing to do.  But I am walking a mile or two to be picked up, and sometimes sitting is harder on me than walking.  My knees and back don't like it, even though I've capitulated and sit in a chair rather an the cushion on the floor.  Sitting is hard, too, because sometimes it's difficult to just watch what comes up in the mind - especially when it's not a pretty picture.  Usually it's not too bad, just the endless trivial drivel that pushes out any noble, insightful thoughts that might waft through.

But the overall effect?  A calming, a forgiveness of myself, a sense of an enterprise shared by all beings:  how do we live in this gift of a world?  I for one would like to live wisely and without harming others as much as possible.  Is this worth sore knees and a stiff back?  I think so, in fact, I know so.

Old Age Day by Day January 27, 2012

In an hour a friend is stopping by on her way to a meditation retreat.  She lives a state away, and is caring for her husband and he struggles with cancer.  There is so little we can do for her, but we are witnesses to their courage, fortitude and positive attitude.  What I admire most is how they each take care of themselves within this difficult situation.  They honor themselves, and don't sacrifice so much that they forget to be generous with themselves.  They are who they are, and have not been defined by this illness that is relentless.  I appreciate what they have in the midst of this surprising blow.  I would hope to do so well.

So it makes me happy she is going on this retreat, and her husband's brother is at the house caring for her husband.  She can accept help and trust.  She is open and transparent.  My Buddhist teacher says to ask yourself:  "Does what I'm about to do include taking care of myself or instead of taking care of myself?"  It's a good guideline for generousity - be generous to yourself as well.  Otherwise, the sacrifice can end up stirring up anger and resentment.  The intention should always be to balance, remain stable, and therefore have the inner resources you need to take action with whatever life presents to you. 

Old Age Day by Day January 26, 2012

When you're married, you have to cut deals.  So, yesterday I agreed to see "Iron Lady" with my husband.  He had good reasons for wanting to see it:  Meryl Streep, Meryl Streep, Meryl Streep.  I was hesitant, because the reviews were lousy and I am not an admirer of Lady Thatcher, Britain or Conservatives.  In fact, I am delighted Scotland is considering ceeceding from Britain.  I am Scottish and have that rebel attitude.  But I went, because I love the man.  Let us say, the reviews were accurate.  Yes, Streep nails the voice and persona.  But the movie transforms into an anti-feminist bashing of Thatcher that is undignified and downright ugly.  They would never dare make a film of Ronald Reagan from the point of view of HIS dementia.  Yet this movie is framed completely by her deterioration.  You get no sense of any charisma or warmth she may have had.  You cannot understand what she stood for and what her accomplishments might have been.  She seems branded as a terrible wife and mother, yet you don't see that either, it is lazily implied.  You don't weep for her, you don't even care.  For Americans watching the movie we needed some more background and history.  But no, I guess the film is exclusively for the Brits.  And here is the heresy:  I don't think Streep deserves the Oscar for this movie.  She's too stiff, confused or stubborn.  She doesn't seem human.  There is no way to engage with her character at all.  The explosions and missing son just don't cut it.  They are sloppy devices for a badly written and directed film.  Ironically, the director is a woman, and she has done more harm to women and their rightful desires for connection to the political world than all the misogynists ever might have.  Streep should have held out for a better script and refused to act in such a travesty.

There.  Now I'm done with my rant.  And by the way, my husband agrees as well.  He had no pleasure in learning nothing about an historical figure and seeing women's rightful desire for the political forum set back by this movie.

Old Age Day by Day January 25, 2012

The frogs were singing last night.  They are evidently extremely happy to have the rains come.  I love to lie in bed and hear them.  Elemental joy.  Ah.

Last night we connected with an old friend's daughter.  She was delightful, and looking at her, and seeing the mix of both her parents in her face was touching.  She's clearly super intelligent, and determined and independent.  We agreed to see a movie together next week.  I hope she becomes a friend of our daughter's, but you can't push these things, only encourage.  They seemed to have a lot to talk about around teaching. 

We've known her dad for over thirty years, and her mom almost as long.  I really treasure those connections when they come alive again.  Kind of like listening to the froggies.

Old Age Day by Day January 24, 2012

I had a long phone conversation with an old friend from graduate school last night.  It felt good to catch up.  I'm always meaning to see her, but she lives in Illinois, and it's not an alluring destination in the winter, and summer seems to be busy and fleeting.  I'm going to try, though, this year to get there.  She heads a department at the university where she works, and manages to write books, nurture three stepkids and a foster son, and be a great daughter and aunt as well.  Having a sense of humor helps, and her background has given her a lot of strength.  Her father was an AP reporter and she was born in India, and lived in Japan and London growing up.  Then her family settled in Denver, where her father took over his father's toy company.  Her mother became an art docent and fund raiser and helped build the Denver art museum.  So she knows how to enjoy a place, it's uniqueness, it's culture, it's people.  She fits in anywhere. 

I appreciate the moving my family did around the U.S.  It was hard being the new kid and having to adapt, but it has given me an inner strength that allows me to socialize easily and not be swayed by popularity and comparison.  I found my niche everywhere I went, and had confidence there would be new friends in new places.  And, though it was hard at the time, being apart from my boyfriend by a continent, and my best friend, caused me to hold fast to who I was, not be tempted to "fit in" or change myself to suit a group.  I learned to look for validation inside myself, not outside.  Yes, I struggled with people pleasing, but only up to a point.  There were boundaries. 

So my friend and I know how to take care of ourselves.  I admire her achievements, and I know that her struggles have made her stronger and more interesting.  She has learned compromise, but wisely, not out of giving away her values.  When we connect, I feel stronger for the friendship.

Old Age Day by Day January 23, 2012

Yesterday my husband and I saw a movie, then watched with our younger daughter and her boyfriend, the Fortyniners get beaten in overtime by the Giants.  It was such an exciting game, and I didn't feel bad afterwards.  It took overtime to settle the outcome.  Now, nobody I like is left, as usual in the superbowl.  I wanted Aaron Rogers to play in it, as he is an old Cal quarterback, but, hey, it's just a game.  And a goofy game at that.  Baseball is the game I love.

Today is rainy and dark again.  A good day to do little tasks, and perhaps clean a bit.  I think I must do my exercise video, as I have not been moving around enough.  I need a large hamster wheel, if this weather keeps up.

I just had a breakfast of greek style yogurt, fresh cherries and blueberries, V8 and tea.  I'm fueled to go.  Now let's just see what I actually get done.

Old Age Day by Day January 20, 2012

Twas a dark and dreary day, rain dripping down the gutters, but already the green is green again, not grayish, and the plants are drinking, drinking, drinking like thirsty children.  So, today is definitely not an outside day.  Other arrangements will have to be, well, arranged.  I'm thinking the new Mission Impossible movie, followed by picking up my foster granddaughter, seeing her do gymnastics, and out to dinner for something healthy like mac and cheese or burritos or the old staple grilled cheese sandwich.  Ice cream to follow, of course.  All the food groups: bread and cheese.

In the meantime, I can finish my Lescroat book and call a couple of people.  I had a long talk last night with my best bud who is wallowing in snow and ice in Washington state.  I got claustrophobic just listening to her shut-in woes.  I remember so well being in the same state in Colorado, and unable to get the car plowed out, stuck in the house and with no heat.  Some days I just paced the house with my baby in my arms.  So there is no reason for complaint here, and I appreciate the coastal balminess of my area.  Rain on, oh mighty skies, rain on.

Old Age Day by Day January 19, 2012

Well, we're back from our hot springs visit.  We have been soaking in 100o water, and got so relaxed we were limp as noodles.  We had only two meals a day because we slept in, walked to a cafe to eat, floated in the pool, showered and ate again.  Then we read or last night, we watched a strange movie from 1962 with Karl Malden, Angela Landsbury, Warren Beatty, and Eva Marie Saint, called "All Fall Down" written by the playwright William Inge and directed by Frankenhiemer.  It had some beautiful cinematic work, but the psychology was so patently ridiculous.  It reflects the era when mothers were blamed for anything that went wrong with their kids.  However, Landsbury was so strong and sympathetic and Beatty so ineffectual an actor that it all backfired.  There were still many insightful moments about family life.  I wish I'd been there and edited the script, but hey, I was only sixteen at the time.

Bill had two dreams afterwards in which he was Beatty's character - enough to give anyone nightmares.  Beatty sure couldn't act.  But I guess he was more successful as a director.  Weirdly, in this film he plays a gorgeous hunk whom women fall all over.  What a stretch for him!

Anyway, our trip was a success, the rain held off until today, and all I need to do is visualize myself in that pool: this morning it was drizzling and steam was everywhere, as if we were high up on a mountain lake, and it was like been rebirthed.  I love that pool.  I've been going there for 25 years, and I never get tired of it.  It's a natural wonder of my world, that's for sure.

Old Age Day by Day January 17, 2012

I had a long telephone discussion with my 3 year old granddaughter last night.  It ranged from the dinner menu to visits to fairy castles.  About her grandfather who just died she wondered if he knew that he was dead.  I thought he probably did, but would be loving her still and watching from the heavens.  It made me remember my daughter of the same age struggling to understand the deaths of my parents.  It's impossible.  We adults barely are able to grapple with the subject.  But she will hear many stories about him, and have photos, and he will be a part of who she is.  But the truth is this is what loss looks like.

It's fiercely cold here for us, but the papers say we are going to get rain soon, very soon.  Our poor plants and trees could use it, plus our air quality.  There is a stillness, a waiting right now.  I can feel it in the air.  Something is coming.

Old Age Day by Day January 16, 2012

I watched a little bit of the Golden Globes last night, entranced with the dresses.  I pay little attention to who wins, as it seems sentimental and arbitrary.  And since "Tree of Life" is not nominated for anything, I don't really care who wins.  I'm not surprised at "The Artist" and "Hugo" taking awards, as they are both love letters to Hollywood, and narcissism loves well, itself.  I had to leave after a few minutes, as we were having our younger daughter's boyfriend's parents over for dinner.  They are nice and friendly, but it's awkward since are only real connection is that our kids live together.  Finding common ground beyond that is a process.  I made my chicken pot pie, which, if I do say so, is the ultimate in comfort food. 

Tomorrow we go for a mini-vacation for two nights.  The dogs will be kenneled, and we will sleep in and wander aimlessly and soak in their hot springs swimming pool.  It's supposed to rain, but who cares?  We can read, wander around the town with umbrellas, and eat out.  Sounds like a winner.

Old Age Day by Day January 15, 2012

Today is the first dreary day for weeks.  Perhaps there will be rain in our future, but I'll believe it when I see it.  My husband and I saw Susan Graham in concert last night, and was she ever delightful!  I'm such a fan.  Her Xerxes was such a triumph.  The hall was not filled, and I wondered if it was the economy, the football games or just that singers don't quite get the love, unless they are huge superstars.  Anyway, we had a great time, and the ease of her voice and her confidence was morale boosting for sure.

Today, back to the basement, grocery shopping, and vacuuming.  The sublime to the mundane.  Such is life.

Old Age Day by Day January 14, 2012

On Wednesday I talked to a friend's hair stylist.  Ostensively, I was checking out her salon, while my friend got her hair cut, but in reality I was there to give some advice if so asked. The woman is Croatian, and she came to this country twenty years ago with her boyfriend, they married, and have a daughter now 16.  He was a batterer, and she divorced him, but he is still interfering in their lives, threatening them, and scaring them.  She has all this anger at him, the police, the courts, the lawyers.  She has a right to this anger,  but it is counterproductive.  She needs to focus on getting help from a battered women's shelter, and counseling for herself and her daughter.  Otherwise, her daughter will end up in a similar relationship.  She asked me what she should do.  I told her she needed to focus on those who could and would help her, not the establishment.  I asked her if she knew what aversarialism was.  I explained how she needed not to continue to go head to head by herself, but let the shelter use their liasons with the police, etc.  She needed to focus her energies in a way that would change her life for the better.  I suggested she probably had two years at most for her daughter to learn how to protect herself from her father, recognize a batterer, and feel some empowerment instead of victimhood.     In other words, I gave her my old safehouse spiel, and tried to do what I could to wake her up to save her own life.  I'm good at this; I did it for 12 years.

But I will not be coming back, for a haircut or anything else.  Because the ball is in her court, and only she can save her life.  And even then, she needs perserverance and luck.  What I can do is trust she will do what she needs to do not for herself, but for her child.  What I did was talk turkey.  I took the threat seriously and told her she needed a village to get through this.  But she will need to drop the anger, which is keeping her from methodically doing what needs to be done.  She is caught in the battering cycle of rage, woundedness and helplessness.  I hope to god she gets out.

old Age Day by Day January 13, 2012

I'm reading the new Elizabeth George.  It's like slipping on a much loved sweater, warm and comfortable.  I now think of the characters as old friends.  She harkens back to Dorothy Sayers, and Lord Peter Whimsey, but Tommy Lynley is updated and modern, and his sidekick is of a different class and gender.  This would not have happened in Sayers' day.  Times have changed.  So far there are many difficult relationships, complex and hard to label, which makes George less the romantic and more the realist.  Sayers was romantic.  Including Peter marrying Harriet Vane.  George knows better.  I find reading the book a comfort from sad news and uncertain times.

I went by myself yesterday to see Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.  It was a slipping into the past when the cold war was hot and spying mysterious.  Now we all seem to know how ugly and unethical and wrong what our governments do is, but then we thought there was a threat that could be eliminated or contained by mirroring the conduct of the enemy.  Actually, quite a few in government still believe this. 

The acting was superb, with Gary Oldman, John Hurt, Colin Firth and Ciaran Hinds leading the pack.  But the younger actor Benedict Cumberbatch was great as well.  And the movie does remind us that we haven't really given up our belief that the end justifies the means, and that we can destroy our own public servants for the good of god and country.  So there is a sadness about the film, beyond it's gray coloration and apparent bleakness.  What have we learned?  It's hard to conjure up anything to answer that question.

Old Age Day by Day January 12, 2012

Our son-in-law's father died Wednesday.  He had battled lung cancer on and off for years.  He was a very sweet, funny, dear man.  He lived into his eighties and was blessed with four sons, three grandchildren, and a steady strong life in the same town, in the same house for most of his life.  Until a few years ago, all of his sons lived nearby and his two grandsons.  He was a stalwart churchgoer and and a devoted husband and father.  An ordinary life, you might say, but extraordinary in his kindness and steadfast devotion.  I ache for how much his wife will miss him, and his family.  I find myself very saddened indeed.  I also feel for our granddaughter's loss of a grandpa.  He was a gem.  He was delighted with her.  She's so young, and our youngest lost her grandparents when she was 3 as well, and it left a big hole.  So I think of this precious little girl who has lost one of her biggest fans.

I hope the family is comforted by the dignity with which he left them.  When the doctors found a return, he decided not to do any more chemo or radiation.  He died at home in his bed.  Bless him.  Bless all ordinary people showing heroic courage and steadfast love in a turbulent world.

Old Age Day by Day January 11, 2012

I resigned from my chorus yesterday.  I just knew it was time; that the fun I had was waning, and I wanted to move on.  I won't say I had nothing more to learn, because that would not be true, but the tipping point had been reached and passed last fall.  I'll always sing, but maybe not with a group.  New opportunities often open up when you let go and relax.  That is what I'm going to do.  I have a lot of other plans for this spring, and having a responsibility to the chorus does make traveling difficult.  Anyway, by the time I'd talked to my teacher yesterday, I was sanguine and no ambivalence arose.  So I'll see what the future brings musically.  And as I said to my teacher, I have all these songs I know and love in my bag of tricks now.

I'm itching to write poetry, and I'm going to try for one draft a day.  I began as a poet, then my best friend killed herself, and I felt compelled to write her story.  I'm a strong prose writer, but my first love was poetry, from the time I was a kid, and I'd like to go back to it now.

My husband and I saw the movie "War Horse" yesterday.  I sobbed so much I had to force myself to stay in the chair to watch.  It brings tears to my eyes now to think of it.  It was a very disturbing film, on the order of "Gallipoli" or "Saving Private Ryan".  Speilberg is good at forcing us to face ugly facts.  Though I admire many of his films, I never want to see "Schndler's List", "Munich" or many other worthy films.  Once is enough to sear it in my brain.  The cinematography was gorgeous, but I can't even tell if the movie was good or awful.  I just know it was upsetting.  But I have such a connection to horses, I may be too vulnerable to assess this film.  I found watching it almost unbearable.

Luckily, I'm having lunch with a friend today, so I can lighten up.  And no horse talk.

Old Age Day by Day January 10, 2012

My retreat was delightful and inspiring.  I returned refreshed and ready to tackle some difficult issues and keep my head while tussling.  It's always good to be in a room full of lovingkindness and intentions of being compassionate to all beings.  There is power in that gesture.  My "swim buddy", to steered me to this teacher, was with me and we discussed dharma talks in the evenings, and my gratitude to her is immense.  And today is her birthday.  I've promised to give her Haruku Mirakami's "1Q84", because she was describing looking at the moon last Wednesday night and how strange and amazing it was, and it was as if she was reading a passsage from Murakami's book.  More selfishly, I can't wait to discuss it with her after she's read it.

I talked to my daughter and granddaughter last night, and my son in London during the day and my younger son yesterday evening.  I hold them in my hearts and checking in is so easeful to me.  I am truly blessed with four wonderful adult children, a daughter-in-law and son-in-law whom I love, and two delightful granddaughters.  Retreats remind me of all my blessings, and the preciousness of life.  The trick is to keep that knowledge accessible daily, in each and every moment.  It's a challenge, but the benefits are magical.

Old Age Day by Day January 6, 2012

So far I'm having a bit of bad luck in the new year.  Today I put on the silver beads my husband bought me for Christmas and the clasp broke, after the store insisting that it was sturdy and secure.  I'd planned on wearing them for my retreat, to give me strength (they are Native American).  Last night I had a terrible time at chorus, and felt angry, jealous and frustrated at my parts, resinging songs I'm kind of tired of and not getting any mini solos, as have most of the others.  I lost all my joy and confidence, and ended up leaving ten minutes early in tears.  I was a big baby, but underneath, I do have doubts about what I am doing in this chorus.  Maybe it's just that I'm ready for something new, and boy, do I hate letting go of anything.

It's at least very fitting that I am going on retreat, where I hope to clear my mind, cling less to attraction and aversion, and feel fresher, newer, in this new year.  Right now I feel like the weather - sunny but with bad air quality.

Old Age Day by Day January 5, 2012

I saw my therapist today and feel more centered.  Tomorrow I leave for a weekend retreat, and will get my head screwed on even straighter, I hope.  I look forward to the silence, the sitting, the dharma talks and the chance to quiet what has been a busy, overactive mind this holiday season.  Many things needed doing, and I was juggling balls like a circus performer, but it's time to let them drop and roll where they may.  I am not really in control or responsible for the fate of the world.  I need to address my own personal messiness and trust in others to attend to theirs.  The holidays are crazy making, wonderful, and filled with hidden triggers and traps.  Now it is January, and the days are getting longer and spring is about to leap, drought or no, and the world continues.  Whether I do or not is of no consequence, because I'm part of the changing, and cannot be lost.  I take comfort in that fact.

Old Age Day by Day January 4, 2012

My foster granddaughter and I went to a movie yesterday afternoon.  She's so happy these days it's contagious.  We really have fun together.  She has graduated to "people" movies, instead of just animated ones.  She likes "Nim's Island", "Nanny McFee", "Ever After", "Ramona and Beesus", and "Enchanted".  We saw "We Bought a Zoo", and she said it was the best movie ever.  There was a little girl in it her age, and she seemed fascinated by the animals and the idea of living at a zoo.  We rushed home afterwards and her mom was waiting.  It was the one time she was early picking her up.  Oh, dear.

Today I'm having tea with a friend, then maybe my husband and I will do a few errands.  His cold is finally getting better and he can go periods without coughing.  He's sleeping better, too, so, so am I.

The headlines in both papers today are about the lack of rainfall.  Right now, I'm just glad it wasn't rainy over the holidays and either there is too much or too little rain, or snow, or something is wrong.  There is no normal year as far as I can remember.  We're always being whipped into hysteria, but I refuse to go down that road.  Let's see what spring brings.  Of course, I can be cavalier, since I'm no skier.  And without a ton of snow on the roof of our cabin, all we have to worry about is a tree coming down on top of it.  I don't have the best interests of the state at heart.

Old Age Day by Day January 3, 2012

Very stramge - this 2012 business.  One cannot help but think a bit apocalliptically.  On New Year's Day night I had a long, strange dream.  It was the end of the world, but still, there was enough time to administer a shot to people in hospitals, and like others, I voluntarily went and had the shot.  The shot would somehow avoid a more awful death, whatever that was.  I was lying on the hospital bed, and a male doctor came in and asked me if I was fearful.  I said no, I was comforted by the fact that I was a part of the huge organism of the universe.  After a while, I found myself on the carpeted hospital floor in a hallway, and there was a gorgeous red swath of cloth, otherwise things were getting distorted and I was losing my calm state.  I rolled over and saw through a doorway my father grinning at me - his full size grown head on the body of a baby.  I thought, oh, it's okay, and there is no real progressive time.  I was scared but I knew he was there to guide me.

I definitely shouldn't have seen the movie "On the Beach" recently.  It is such a calm, terrifying movie.

Last night I had no heavy duty dreams.  We watched the Rose Bowl parade, then took down all the Christmas decorations, much more easily, since my reorganization last year, and then watched the Rose Bowl game at our son's house and ate chips and dip and petted his dog.  Then we came home and my husband watched the Fiesta Bowl on my computer out in my studio, and I watched a movie with the dogs ("Out of Sight").  The Oregon Ducks won, which was satisfying (we have a daughter and granddaughter in that vicinity) but Stanford lost at the last second.  So disappointing, as we root for the West when we can.  But both games were so close and exciting every single second. 

Today I'm going to replenish the bare cupboard and pick up my daughter-in-law from the airport and have my foster granddaughter in the afternoon.  A full day.  Thus begins the new year, and I am grateful to be beginning, yet again, what has been begun before.