Old Age Day by Day February 29, 2012

I'm way over "Tree of Life" not getting best picture.  Sure I am.  I'm overly mature.  But it has been frustrating that most of my friends hated it, my kids, and I have had only one person willing to talk about the film.  Nobody seems to know what it is about, there is a lot of whispering and silence (What about "The Artist" - talk about silent) and they don't get the dinosaurs.  I admit it's not a perfect film, but what it is saying is that the primodial forest and the modern skyscrapered city are not so far apart.  Life is still a struggle, and we move between our reptilian brains and violence and insensitivity to complex consciousness and back again.  The struggle is within ourselves.  Mallick is also attempting to dissolve time, so that there is a sense of life all happening at once, rather than on a continnum.  And there is so much compassion in the movie for all of us human beings: for parents, for children, for the cruel things we do, the impulsive hurts we inflict, the ways we mean to show love but instead reveal our wounds.  His compassion is for all equally. 

I'm sure, over time, people will come back to this movie, and it will be discussed and shown and kept alive.  After all, "2001" didn't win the Oscar either.

Old Age Day by Day February 27, 2012

I just received 12 photos of my granddaughter by her dad, who is a talented photographer.  They are relaxed and charming, with her walking along, fooling with her umbrella and mugging in some.  She's as photogenic as both her parents, and my heart pulls a little bit each time I look at one.  Photos are powerful, and there is a magic to it.  I wish I could figure out this digital/computer stuff better so I could send photos.  If I could grab one of my kids long enough...

In two days I'll see her, and I'm getting excited.  I haven't seen her in two months and that is hard for me.  Today I'm going with a friend to see the dog and cat shelter where she volunteers, so hopefully I'll have some stories to tell for the granddaughter.  The thing is to get in and out of there without a new pet!

Old Age Day by Day February 25, 2012

I'm afraid I've been reviewing my life, never a good idea.  Worrying about choices or paths is irrelevant, unless I learn something from the process.  But I've done all the worrying the law allows, and now I'm just churning up guilt and responsibility about things over which I have no control.  I'm miserable, but it's a cosy kind of misery, very familiar and comfortable.  I have this delusion that comes and goes:  that I can fix other people's lives.  I have the rescuer complex.  My Buddhist teacher made me buy a toy ambulance and put it up on blocks.  Out of commission.  But the temptation is still alluring.  I don't like to witness other people's suffering.  I have trouble sitting with it and not jumping up, running around and busy myself being thoughtful. 

A friend of ours is dying.  Not the first.  But I feel wretched.  Nobody deserves this kind of suffering, and it is part of living, but nevertheless so hard to bear.  I feel helpless, useless, and boy, do I hate that feeling.  When my kids have problems I want to come out of my corner like a boxer ready to kill.  Yet, these are adults, and my days as an activist mother are over.  They have to face the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune on their own.  Yes, I can listen if they choose to talk, maybe even give some perspective or advice, but it's their ballgame, their park, their world.  I have no power to protect them.  I just hate that.  I have trouble accepting the obvious.

So.  Letting go.  Trusting that others know what they are doing and will ask for help if they need it.  Knowing I don't really have any solutions or brilliant ideas.  Just loving them and being here on earth as a witness.  Wow.  It's hard.  And it's the right thing to do.

Old Age Day by Day February 25, 2012

We're going to celebrate our daughter-in-law's birthday tonight.  I have a cake to bring and we have reservations, so we're all set.  She's been a part of our life for a lot of years now, and we love her dearly.  If only her husband, our son was around as well, but he will be home soon, in a couple of weeks.  Gee, these birthdays fly upon us these days.  Next thing I know it will be our granddaughter's birthday!  Lots of reasons to celebrate the people we love.  Birthdays are my favorite, because you are saying you are so glad they were born and live in this amazing world and that you are touched by them.  You recapture some of that joy of the birth of a baby - the miraculous addition that changes your life forever.  It's an occasion for deep gratitude.

Old Age Day by Day February 24, 2012

I was reading in the newspaper this morning about a man who has walked 30,000 miles with a sign that says "LOVE LIFE".  His only son committed suicide and his daughter died of a drug overdose.  Before she died she asked him why he hadn't conveyed to his kids how to appreciate life.  He took it to heart.  I think of all the parents who believe their kids need an iphone or lessons or name brand clothes.  The parents who push success and popularity instead of showing, not telling, their kids that life is precious and there are so many joys that can sustain us:  music, walking, animals, friends, dancing, reading, doodling, napping, watching birds and planting flowers, seeing the ocean or lake and observing clouds in the sky.  We have access to these simple joys every day of our lives, and they don't require money or special skills or looks. 

Kids sometimes see their parents as pressured and unhappy and afraid or angry.  They don't get to see laughter or being bemused at making a mistake or the rapture of a beautiful day or walking the dog.  They don't see the parents' hearts or souls, they see them working and getting mad at politics and watching TV, as if that was a panacea.  It takes real effort to take "time out", and yet, that may be the most important example we can show them.  My heart goes out to this father, and his brave attempt to point the way to meaningful life.

Old Age Day by Day February 12, 2012

My husband and younger daughter returned from their trip yesterday afternoon and clearly had a great time.  They brought me a Navajo rug, in the storm pattern, which is gorgeous.  The pictures look great and I think they had a lot of fun.  I remember several trips to the Grand Canyon as a child, and several more as an adult, and each time felt amazement and joy.  Once, when I was a child, we were heading to the North Rim in winter (you could stay there in those days, but not anymore) and the car in front of us hit a deer.  It was snowing and the roads were icy and they spin around and we did too and the dropoff to the left was into the canyon.  Somehow neither car went off the edge, and the next day, as we left the lodge, we saw a navy blue car with blood all over the hood, and even as young as I was, I knew we'd been lucky.  It was so glorious to be in a white winter wilderness, and look down into the blazing heat of the valley below.  A few years ago, our older daughter and we took the train from Williams through the snow to the South Rim.  And I've camped at the North Rim for a week at a time, afraid the kids would lean over at the lookout points and having firm grips on their arms.  It's a powerful experience, and I'm glad the fourth kid has finally taken a look at it.  It feels like the heart of America to me.

Old Age Day by Day February 22, 2012

My foster granddaughter and I had a good time yesterday.  That is, after her mom phoned me because the school called and said I hadn't picked her up!  I'd been planning on it in the morning, but then I did errands, had lunch, finished my book, took a nap and was about to do my exercise video when I got the call.  She was waiting patiently in the office, and luckily, she had a plan - to go to our favorite nursery and look at plants.  So I apologized to everyone profusely, and stopped to get her gelato, and then we picked out hyacinth and pansies, and went home and planted them, then got some books at my nearby bookstore (seven houses away), and read and played Uno.  She has learned to shuffle pretty well between last week and this week.  I loved it that she wanted to look at flowers, and feel proud of the fact that I've been taking her to the nursery since she was a tiny tuppie. 

Then I drove her back home and heated two flatbread sandwiches and watched the PBS American Experience on Clinton.  No news there, and the basic mystery is still intact - how did he compartmentalize himself so successfully that he didn't think all these affairs would bring him down, or nearly down?  It's embarrassing again to see him get a crush on a 21 year old girl.  It is a tragedy.  I wonder if Kennedy would have been brought down the same way, if he had lived.  But the fact that he got away with it may have made Clinton think he would be protected as President.  Yes, it wasn't an impeachable offense, but it was mortifying for his family and the country.  Yet, we see this story over and over with high officials who believe they are beyond judgment or consequences.  The show got one thing abundantly right:  when you need everyone to love you, you are lost from yourself.  His abandonment as a child hung on him like a drowning cloak.

Old Age Day by Day February 21, 2012

I survived the white elephant sale yesterday, but just barely!  My friend and I were exhausted and overwhelmed.  I ended up with an antique butter dish and a costume for my granddaughter.  I kept seeing things, but I couldn't decide, and there was so much junk and false advertising:  native American jewelry from Taiwan, coats with moth holes, furniture about to collapse, dishes that were too weird or not enough plates, tablecloths with stains hidden inside.  The best bargains were baby strollers, toys, and items, because they don't get worn out.  I found chairs I liked that wouldn't go anywhere in my house, or were the wrong color, tables that needed refinishing, and many incredibly hideous lamps.  But this was three weeks in to the sale.  Who knows what treasures I missed.  We each had a huge taco salad and rested our feet, triumphant that we'd finally made it to the event.

I'm finished with bargains for a while.  I can't afford the energy drain.  Oh, yes, maybe I will use the butter dish, but now it sits in my one glass case, to be worshiped and admired.  Useless, really, but imagine the world when such items were part of dining.  It's practically Downton Abbey.

Old Age Day by Day February 20, 2012

I talked to my husband and daughter last night and they were loving the Grand Canyon.  Seven snowstorms moved through when they were first there, so that they could not see much, but then the clouds dispursed and they got their first glimpse.  I'm so happy for them.  It is a wonder of the world.  And they are there when the crowds are not so overwhelming and the landscape different than in the summer with the hordes.  I really did share in their joy. 

Today I am going with a friend to a museum white elephant sale, which will be somewhat like the multitude at the Grand Canyon on a summer's day, but without the vertigo.  At least, I hope without the vertigo.  It is held in a huge warehouse, and there is more to see than the eyes can manage, but it should be fun.  I hope to find a couple of goofy things.  It isn't the eight wonder of the world, but it's a wonder I can wrap my head around.

Old Age Day by Day February 19, 2012

I confess to having somewhat of a luggage fetish.  My local luggage center knows me by sight.  Clearly she can see the dollar signs racking up.  She gives me a 10% discount every time.  I have been known to get uncontrollable urges to drive to REI to look at their luggage and tags and carryons.  This suitcase mania is all out of proportion to the actually traveling I do, which is minimal.  And I don't think it's about imagining far away cultures and climes.  I like the packing thing, the organizational sleeves, the sleep masks, pillows, travel clocks and other completely unnecessary accoutrements of travel.  So yesterday, saying I would just look, I snuck out to the luggage center and perused the carryons.  There was a gorgeous lime green bag like thing with a metal frame you could pull it with, then take it out of when you arrived and cart the bag like a tote bag.  Light as a feather.  There were Timbuktu bags with the cross strap and a look of importance.  A mint green small bag caught my eye.  Such a lovely color, almost the color of the walls in my bedroom.  There was a turquoise bag that was small and flat but with many compartments, and it was a cross body bag, which I need when traveling, except I already have a few of those.  Then I saw a perfect small roll on, the same brand and colors of a larger bag I use all the time.  Only this one was REALLY a carryon, and it had a zippered shoe compartment inside and other zipped off parts.  It was lime green and gray, and light as a feather.  I always ignore the fact that when I pack nothing stays light as a feather.  And then, of course, it would be 10% off. 

Dear reader, I bought it, of course.  AND the turquoise bag which was already on sale but with 10% off, well who could resist?  I am taking a four day trip in a couple of weeks.  It will be really, really handy.  Now all I have to do is figure out what to wear in matching colors.  And do I go with lime green or turquoise?

Old Age Day by Day february 18, 2012

I've been feeling irritable the last couple of days.  Out of sorts.  I can't quite pin down what I'm annoyed about.  It almost makes me believe in alignment of stars or other mysterious forces outside of my own puny life.  I feel like porcupine prickles are rising up and I'm itchy.  It may turn out I have poison oak, but so far, I am not good company.  I am on my own for five days, as my husband and younger daughter are on a road trip, and boy, it's just as well.  I wanted to snap at my husband yesterday afternoon.  And I succeeded.

A friend and I are going to see a symphony performance at a local movie theater this afternoon.  I hope the music soothes me.  I've seen operas at movie theaters, and enjoyed the experience, so I expect this will be interesting.  Between now and then I can walk the dogs, go to the bookstore and generally keep my grumpy self occupied.  If you run into me, better beware!

oLd Age Day by Day February 17, 2012

I've been wondering about patience, the word and connotations, as my study group is reading Shantideva and concentrating on his chapter on patience.  Patience implies an outcome and the expectation of it.  So am I really being patient if I expect to gain something by practicing it?  If I am "acting as if" I am patient until it kicks in and I truly become patient, then the gaining is not a distraction, I suppose.  But if I am expecting a reward, then I'm not being patient, merely calculating.  So patience must be about letting go, truly letting go of outcome and attachment to whatever is, in my delusion, to be gained.

So maybe I won't be more noble, pure and above it all with patience.  Certainly not if I am congratulating myself for not rushing to anger or judgment.  If I keep reminding myself I "Don't Know" as my teacher says, then I can be in the moment without thinking of future and past.  So patience is about one moment, and then perhaps another, and then another.  Afterwards, surprise that anger didn't arise, or if it did, I let it go.  I let go of the outcome. 

I think this patience business is very tricky and can be made devious.  What I hope to do is notice how patience feels in my body and let that be my motivator for the practice.  Thinking about it creates a story that confuses me and is also discouraging.  So - I will try to be patient about patience.  Oh, dear!

Old Age Day by Day February 16, 2012

I'm going to have bubble tea with a friend today.  I have loved tapioca since childhood, and I consider bubble tea to be the ultimate treat.  I love these tea bars where one can chat and slow down and savor the smell and flavor of the tea.  I occasionally have coffee, but tea is my thing, ever since living in a British colony.  They definitely indoctrinated me.  I still love high tea, and there are places nearby where I can go for a special treat.  I firmly believe that Devonshire cream on a scone is the ultimate perfection.  So maybe bubble tea is a step down, but having brainwashed my friend into loving it as well, we pretty much always meet at the tea bar. 

There used to be another place within walking distance where I met up with friends, but the state of the economy sunk it.  Let's face it, these are luxurious habits, and unnecessary in a downturn.  But it was such a beautiful little oasis of calm and quiet, an Asian place, with nooks and corners to settle into and the most exotic teas from all over the world.  It was completely unlike any coffee place.  But it's gone.

The place we will meet today is more like a Starbucks or Peets, with the scraped up wood floors from chairs and bussing bins and cakes and cookies in a bright glass cabinet.  People are noisier and there are the laptop people not enjoying their tea at all, their tables strewn with books and their eyes bleary.  But we will attempt to shut all that hustle and bustle out, and sit down to a meaningful conversation and shared pleasure. 

Old Age Day by Day February 15, 2012

I'm heading to the dermatologist this morning to check out the topography of my skin.  There is always something new and different growing.  The joys of being fair skinned.  I do this every 3 months now.  I've had several friends die from melanoma, so I'm careful to get checked.  Then I need to make an appointment for a mammogram and bone density, and the merry go round spins.

I'm going to enjoy this crisp, cold sunny day.  I've already walked the dogs.  So any more walking I do today will not involve pee mail or snarling strange dogs or picking up poop.  I will be able to pause to see the flowers and sky. 

And I'm going with a friend's daughter to see the Oscar nominated short animated films.  They are always interesting. 

Last night my husband and I romantically ate huge baked potatoes, rib eye steaks, grilled asparagus and salad, washed down with a bottle of champagne, while we watched "Captain Blood" with Errol Flynn and Olivia de Haviland.  Irish rebels, Nasty British, the Carribean slave trade, pirates - it had it all.  And Basil Rathbone as a French pirate.  It was a lot of fun, and now I've had all my calories for the week, so I'm set.

Old Age Day by Day February 14, 2012

My husband brought me my favorite flowers yesterday - daffodils, crocuses, haycinth and tulips.  All in a pot for planting later.  I'm going out searching for great licorice for him in a while, plus some chocolate for my foster granddaughter.  As long as I keep it simple I don't feel bulldozed by Valentine's Day.  In fact, we have a perfect record of never having gone out to dinner for Valentine's Day.  The minute you go there, the expectations rise, someone says the wrong thing, you're disappointed.  A card is the thing.  Anything beyond that gets tricky.  If the day reminds us to tell people all year round how much they mean to us, then great.  But as a vehicle for the economy to survive, I don't think so.

It's a beautiful day, and I have my foster granddaughter this afternoon, so I'm grateful for affectionate people and thoughtfulness and consideration.  Her mother shares her with me, and the love grows.  Yesterday I received a homemade card from my granddaughter who lives a state away, and my heart was eased at the effort she and my daughter made to think of me and send it.  We like to be thought of.  We all do.  And 44 cents is all it takes.

Old Age Day by Day February 13, 2012

We went to a neighbor's brunch yesterday and after a while, I began to feel strange.  Everyone else was traveling all over the world and seem to have an agenda for the next decade.  Maybe that is what retired people do who can't wind down.  I felt exhausted just contemplating the last couple of months of the neighbors:  jetting to Patagonia, India, Ohio, Rome, Oklahoma City and here.  I could feel the blood clots forming in my legs.  I think, maybe because they are doctors, their metabolisms are on speed dial.  Everything is hurried, rushed and they are calmly sorting through reams of information and data as they fly, drive, walk to see more and more and more.  I am not being sarcastic.  I just realized I live in an alternate universe.  I'm pretty happy being slowed down to the snail's world.  Yesterday my husband and I walked up the street with the dogs to see a flowering apple tree.  That was our big tour of the day.  And I'm proud of the days when I do not get in a vehicle of any kind. 

But listening to these other people made me feel like a quitter, someone who is making themselves old instead of rushing around like a thirty year old.  I don't have an answer to what the balance might be.  Yes, I love to see other cultures and places, but I feel like I've shored up so many memories and learned so much already that the drive to see more is muted these days.  We have three or four modest trips coming up:  my husband and daughter are taking a road trip to the Grand Canyon, I'm going to see the other daughter and granddaughter for three days, we are going two nights four hours north for our anniversary and then a road trip in April to see friends, our daughter and granddaughter, and my best friend.  The farthest away is two states.  Sounds boring, yet it is what we want to do the most right now.  Maybe we will get a hankering for exotic places.  I cannot say.  But right now, my own neighborhood is pretty alluring, and if anything is calling to me, it's daffodils and tulip trees.

Old Age Day by Day February 12, 2012

I read an article in the newspaper this morning about styles of relationships:  anxious, avoidant or secure.  Then I asked my husband to read it.  He decided he was anxious, and I thought I was avoidant, but then he announced we both must be secure, because we have been married almost 38 years.  We'd just watched the movie "The Last Station" about Sofia and Leo Tolstoy's stormy marriage (48years), and were disgusted about ways the movie simplified the complicated relationship they had.  I think maybe you enter a relationship with a certain style from growing up or experiences, and then you either make yourselves secure, play out old scripts or part and look for a new person.  But looking for the new person only works if you've figured out why you react the way you do, and come to terms with who you are.  So I would never buy this book, because it's like the diets where you don't have to stop eating candy or exercise - it promises a shortcut when pretty much everything in life is hard work, but especially relationships.

The second article I read was about marketing cosmetics to preteens.  Walmart and Target are on top of this, you'll be happy to know.  So your seven year old can now learn her makeup skills and paint her face with the best of them.  And the pressure, peer pressure and parental pressure in some cases, can begin earlier to be perfect, and sexy, and princessy.  Evidently, not enough people have read "Cinderella ate my Daughter" or don't care enough to boycott this manipulating of very young girls into valuing themselves solely by their looks.  These moms are sucked in by our culture of surface, and they are happy to share their obsession with their daughters.  Sigh. 

I guess I need to stop reading the newspaper.

Old Age Day by Day February 11, 2012

I was talking to my older daughter yesterday about the movie "Pina" by Wim Wenders, which my friend and I saw Thursday.  You know that expression "It took my breath away"?  That is how I felt after the film.  It is such a beautiful homage to a great choreographer.  I have never seen such dancing and pieces live as I saw on the screen.  And rather than having any biography of her, the narration was spare and unrevealing, leaving her dances, her artistic creations, to speak for her.  And speak they did.  Of a consummate artist in collaboration with her dancers, creating together an event shattering, joyous, soulful and as expansive as the gamut of human experience.  The audience was frequently making little sounds of shock and awe.  She pushed it out of us, this recognition and engagement.  I cannot recommend this film enough, because it amazingly manages to show us what we become when we let life flow through us and express something larger and grander than we feel we have the capacity for.  It is hope.  Hope of who we can be and forgiveness and understanding for who we are.

Old Age Day by Day February 10, 2012

Our younger daughter stopped by this morning before work to find a couple of pictures of herself as a child.  The teachers are putting up pictures of themselves as children to show the students.  There she was without hair and with ears we worried about, with waist length hair and freckles, in braids grinning with a tooth missing.  And now she's in her twenties and a teacher.  It all passes pretty quickly, and the photos remind us.

I have a mountain of photos, and I still prefer them to the computer albums.  I just do.  Of course, like everyone else I have a digital camera, but it doesn't feel "real" or right.  I'm so far behind the wave of technology that it ain't funny.  But I try.  And I enjoy the benefits of my computer.  I love Word and this blog, maps and Rosetta Stone.  I'm not so crazy about searching, except for movies, because I don't find enough in depth information.  And I don't read books online.  I like to hold a book in my hand.  I'm a old foogie, and I won't deny it.

Old Age Day by Day February 9, 2012

Oh, I miss my granddaughter!  I'd love to be close enough to share even silly little days like Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day.  I send cards but it's not the same.  I have the sense of time passing swiftly and me missing most of her years when she is most available.  Later it will be all peers, and I will seem a fossil, even if one who adores her.  But this is all clinging.  In the best part of myself, I am satisfied she is healthy and happy, and alive in the world.  And I do get to see her every few months.  So I am lucky.  But my attachment right now is so strong, perhaps too much so.  But there it is.  I must content myself with planning a weekend soon and a few days at her birthday in April.  We talk occasionally on the phone, but she is so busy, like all kids today, that it takes weeks each time to actually speak.  If this is complaining, I'm sorry, but it is the way we grandmothers often feel.  I know from discussing this with my friends.  We treasure each minute we have with them and wish for more.

Does this mean I'm not enjoying my life?  Hardly.  I have a fun and interesting life.  I have a practice that rewards me.  I have dear, dear friends.  I have a spouse who shares this grandparent love.  I am grateful for this life given me, so blessed.  I am afraid it makes me greedy.  I think that can happen, if one is not careful.  Each moment is precious, and in each moment she is in my heart.  As are my kids and foster granddaughter and friends and husband.  A full heart, I would say.  A Valentine heart.  Ah, I believe I've circled around to a little balance, a lot of gratitude.

Old Age Day by Day February 8, 2012

My foster granddaughter and I made valentine cards yesterday.  Then we played a mean game of UNO.  It's fun to be able to play cards with her.  At six, almost seven, she no longer needs to cheat and be "helped" in any way.  It's a big leap in maturity, and good for her math skills, I figure.  My parents played many a game with my kids:  Crazy Eights, Hearts, Gin Rummy, Canasta, Dominoes.  My parents had a game table in the family room, and when we were visiting it was usually occupied.  When my kids were really little, my mom would stack up dominoes and use them as blocks.  The kids never ceased to laugh uproarously when they would tumble.  My parents were major card sharks so their gentleness with the kids was noted.  My parents won contract bridge tournaments, and I remember when I was growing up they had a bridge night and my mother had several bridge lunches a week rotating in friends houses.  I remember the new decks, the card tables, the coasters for iced tea, the little sandwiches.  I loved the cute little notepads for scoring and tiny pencils.

When we were teenagers they taught my brother and I bridge and that was when I saw they had tempers over this so called game, and they'd get mad if we bid incorrectly.  I was torn between wanting to please them and prove I was smart, and wanting to just laugh and have fun.  It all ended when I hyperventilated one night playing with my husband and parents, and the ambulance came.  I begged off cards after that.  That wasn't, of course, just about the game, but everything disfunctional in my marriage and my parents' marriage.  For many years I wouldn't play bridge at all, and now I only play honeymoon bridge or easy card games.

But I've come back to remembering my girlfriend and I in Virginia, playing Hearts and Canasta for days on the porch when it was hot, drinking Pepsi and eating Moon Pies.  And Gin Rummy with her Grandmother and Aunt in North Carolina when we visited on the train.  It was fun, and we prolonged the game by helping each other out so it would never end.  When we finally quit, no one could tell who won or lost.  That was not the point.  The point was the giggling and teasing and passing the time in a world so slowed down that we could do nothing, and love it every minute, though we didn't know it then.

Old Age Day by Day February 7, 2012

My husband just made me watch the Chrysler commercial from the SuperBowl.  Clint Eastwood is pretty effective in inspiring patriotism in this one, but I cannot for the life of me see this as any kind of political ad.  What are the Republicans all het up about?  Eastwood himself is a Republican.  But he's a super patriot and he's right, he has seen many ups and downs in his eighty plus years.  He's got some perspective.  Tempest in a Teapot, as usual.  Politics as usual.

Yes, Chrysler is hoping the viewers will identify them as the underdogs and buy American.  It's an ad.  Hello.  What a shocker.

I'd like to have an ad where Meryl Streep talks about half the population is female and why don't we protect ourselves and our daughters by demanding an equal playing field, and not just at half time.  Wouldn't it be nice if patriotism meant honoring men and women equally, equal pay for equal work, supports for childbearing women with day care, nutrition and how about mentioning the poor are WOMEN.  How about patriotic guys don't hit women, or hold their children hostage, or interfere with women's bodies?  Let's have a new definition of honor in our country, and I do not mean honor killing or false sentimentality on Mother's Day. 

That's the ad I'd like to see.

OLd Age Day by Day February 6, 2012

I found a recipe for chocolate mousse that has no sugar in it.  I'm so excited to get the ingredients and make some.  It involves low fat sour cream and fat free half & half, which I didn't know existed, but I'm going to search high and low, because I have a mission, hopefully creamy and delicious.  You'd think, after six or more years of no sugar, I wouldn't miss it.  I don't miss sugar in my coffee or tea, that kind of thing, but last week I was dreaming of chocolate chip cookies, and somebody mentioned See's Candies, and then I thought of Red Velvet Cake.  My brain is evidently hard wired for sweets, and the longing, the longing, is still there.  Even though, some fruit tastes too sweet now, and I can only stand dry, dry wine, and I still have 70% cocoa chocolate.  I'm telling you honestly, sometimes I still want a Three Muskateers or Snickers.

So much for retraining the mind.  So much for being kind to my body.  I mean, I AM kind to my body, but I have fantasies of tubs of fudge and peppermint patties.  I guess I trained myself not to ingest it, but not to get it out of my brain.  Evidently,  I'm brain washed, like the rest of the population, and actually, why are we all so obcessed with food anyway?  Controlled by giant corporations who show us images that seep so deeply into our subconscious that our self preservation is lessened.  This is a horror movie that no one would watch!

In the meantime, I am eating healthily, and I do love salads, but obviously not quite enough.  I can't quite get myself to spend any fantasy time imagining them.

OLd Age Day by Day February 5, 2012

My husband has broken down and announced this morning he is watching the SuperBowl.  It's fine with me.  I've just returned from stocking up on the New York Times Book Review, The Atlantic, Sunset, More, and Poets and Writers, so I can magazine myself to pieces.  It's also a beautiful day out, almost like summer, so a walk wouldn't be amiss.  This strange weather in February is actually classic for here.  When I lived a mile from the ocean, we'd get this summer days and all run out in our bathing suits and revel in the taste of summer.  Then it would be back to rain and fog and our usual winter.  When I first moved back from Colorado, and I summer clothes put away and winter out.  I quickly realized it's summer one day and winter the next.  The closet must be all season.  The only thing I store is snow clothes, up at the cabin, because we don't need wool and down parkas and gloves down here.  We just need a sense of humor and a flexible nature.

So, as I read up on getting rid of belly fat, new books I will never read, plants that would look nice in our yard if we didn't have two lummoxy dogs who demolish all plant life, and what awards I will not be applying for are out there in the literary community, I will block the roar of the television and my husband's attempts to pull me in to see the ads.  Today is summer and the only appropriate sport is baseball, which is not yet possible to watch.

Old Age Day by Day February 4, 2012

I had a nice day yesterday with three different friends.  I took a walk with one, had lunch and shopped with another and had the third over for dinner.  I love the retirement life, when I am free almost anytime and can get together so easily.  And all three of these friends are within walking distance of me.  I cannot imagine moving away from all this support and warm friendship, because the most important thing to me is these people.  Last night, I was inquiring about a neighbor, who recently lost her husband, and my friend told me she has downsized, buying a house much smaller with a tiny yard, and selling her big house to her daughter.  But she carefully bought only five streets away, so that she is still able to walk to her friends' houses and the post office and bank and grocery market, etc.  She knows she needs to keep in her loving circle, but now she has a one story house and will have much less maintenance. 

I've known several neighbors who moved away to "retire" and regretted it.  The ones who've stayed around are happier and walking more and have buddies to go to art museums and tea and trade cuttings from plants.  It's tempting to think of living by the ocean or high up with a view or deep in a beautiful forest, but is it wise?  Everyone's answer may be different, but for me, what holds me upright are my friends.

Old Age Day by Day February 3, 2012

Our younger son just bought a classic car - a red corvair.  It's pretty cute, and so roomy inside.  It's reconditioned and repainted and looks like new.  My brother likes classics as well, and my husband had an old MG for many years.  It's a guy thing generally, though I have one friend and also my Buddhist teacher whose eyes sparkle just talking about those kinds of cars.  Me, I've always been in the tank mentality - something to keep me from being crushed.  I drive a Volvo.  So I never have a snazzy car or even color of car, but I believe I do the same thing with shoes.  Show me a gaudy pair of shoes and desire overwhelms me.  Yes, I have plain old black shoes, but I also have greens, aquas, and reds.  I have hibiscus Danskos and moss green sandals.  And they perk me right up when it's a gray day or I have a doctor's appointment or I want to celebrate.

So I understand the power of not being sensible.  It's an absolute necessity at times.  We all need to strutt our stuff and jump for joy and get down and boogie.  Goofiness is essential in this world.

Old Age Day by Day February 2, 2012

Today is our older son's birthday, and he is in London, so we can only hope to reach him at the end of his day, as he is going out to dinner with friends.  We will celebrate in March, when he returns.  It is such a gift to see him grow and make his life choices and witness his interests and joys and sorrows.  He's on his own, but with us watching and wishing him well.  I'm sorry he's not with his wife, and she will have her birthday later this month without him, but they have this goal that requires sacrifice.  He will soon have his Phd and she her MA and teaching certificate, and they will be teachers in new and different ways from their past.  What a priviledge to see them grow and change and define themselves.

I think of our son as a baby and young child, somehow already himself, seen only on looking back.  I remember his soccer, his interest in platetechtonics, his debate team, his french horn.  His passion for learning has been there from the earliest time, and his desire for research and looking in depth at the world.  I'm happy his field includes learning more about his father and that family line, and also takes him out of his home culture and into others.  I'm proud of how kind and loving he is, and how many friends he has.  I appreciate his sensitivity with us and everyone.  As I was saying to my friend this morning, he is the Year of the Monkey, and his playfulness is at the center of his being.  He loves word play, silliness and teasing.  He makes me laugh.  He's brought great joy to us, as have all the kids, but he's the oldest so he's gifted us with it the longest.  We wish him joy.

Old Age Day by Day February 1, 2012

Our son came over last night after work to look at some stuff of his we'd found in the basement, and ended up watching some of "Stuart Little' that I and my foster granddaughter were viewing.  Then she got picked up and we ordered pizza and watched "Rise of the Apes", the prequel to "Planet of the Apes".  It's a pretty amazing film, thought provoking and beautifully edited.  Andy Serkis, who plays Caesar, the head ape, is deserving of an Oscar nod, or a new category, or something.  It's one of these films you write off the minute you hear about it, but the buzz is so good that reluctantly, when it comes out on DVD you think, why not? and then you're blown away, because it truly makes the whole series have new depth and meaning.

After that I forgot to call someone with whom I was going to a movie today, and didn't think of it until I was with my husband, walking the dogs around a reservoir.  Oh, dear, I am getting elderly.  There is no doubt of it.  We saw 17 pelicans by the water, cormorants and quite a few other birds.  The pelicans have black wingtips, and are freshwater, so they don't dive dramatically like ocean birds, but herd the fish with the help of the cormorants, and then pluck them out of the water.  They seemed to be resting when we went by, waiting for another strategic onslaught when their energy rose again.

I know the feeling.