Old Age Day by Day March 8, 2011

Happy International Women's Day! A good friend reminded me, so I'm passing it on. When I think of the suffering of women in the world, I feel angry, upset, and disappointed. I'd hoped my daughters would have a more equitable life than we did, and that our granddaughters would be free of second class citizenship. But we are still not paid equal pay for equal work, men attempt to dictate what we do, they brutalize and sell us into slavery. We can't elect a President or even Vice President who is female in this country, and our compassion and connection to our children is used against us at every turn. Where is the child care? How is it we let our daughters be sexualized practically from birth? Why, when over half the students in college are women, are most of their teachers male or untenured females? We not only don't own our bodies, we don't fight the situation. We train our daughters to diet and dream of princes.

I worry about the power inequity. Not only between rich and poor, but because the poor are so often women and children. And yet we do the the vast majority of the work that helps humanity survive. The men don't want to do it. They want to drink strong coffee in cafes and argue politics, then come home drunk and demand to have supper waiting. In our culture we could achieve more if we supported the few women candidates who want to really change all this. Not the women in suits who power broke; the women who identify with all women. It should not be shameful to be a feminist. All we want is fairness, and the oppression to end. But evidently that is too radical to acknowledge openly. We prefer to pretend that having a Visa card is independence. Wake up.

Old Age Day by Day March 7, 2011

My friend sent advice to cover our dog's crate so she couldn't see out at night, and that worked. But yesterday she had a rash on her belly, so today she has to go in to the vet to see what's up. Dogs are mysteries, that's for sure. I thought maybe a little hydrocortizone cream would help, but no, it can't be that simple and especially can't be that inexpensive. I should have done the dog insurance.

Yesterday we washed windows and counters and cabinets. I have an inordinate amount of satisfaction every time we're done with a particular task. I'd gotten bogged down in procrastination, to the the point it was working against me, I guess. In between, I read a McCarry political thriller, he's my new best read, and we walked the dogs and got rained on, and I talked to three of my kids on the phone.

I've lost that drive to see the new play or movie or exhibit. I'm very relaxed about it all now. Somewhere in my brain I feel full - like I could mull over the marvelous things I've already seen, really take them in, and be perfectly happy. I know that's not quite true, but the littler things give me more consistent pleasure nowadays. Seeing a friend, walking the neighborhood looking at flowering trees, figuring out what to cook for dinner and relaxing into the comfort of concocting a meal. I've pared down my life a bit, and it's fine.

Same with travel. I don't have the urge as much, and a small trip nearby will do. I can live with what I haven't seen. It feels like the torch has passed, and now I'm content to hear about the kids' travels, or look at old photos of my own. This may be particular to me, but it feels like a stage of life.

Old Age Day by Day March 5, 2011

The newspaper this morning had an article about the 6th mass extinction of species happening in about 300 years. The last mass extinction was during the dinosaur wipeout. It's hard to know how to process this information. No scientific research has seemed to have much of an impact on the general public, and if Al Gore couldn't wake people up, I doubt this news will. It's too big, too hard to wrap the mind around, and we are a culture of distraction. Anyway, so much for the morning news.

Our female dog is having barking fits at one thirty am every night, and we can't quite figure out what it is. And the less sleep we get, the harder it is to use the ole brain to find a solution. There may be a skunk, is may be bored, a kitty may be taunting her, she may be having an existential moment of aloneness. It's hard to say. I know someone who calls a pet psychic who listens to the dog breathe over the phone and diagnoses. But I'm afraid I'm one of ye of little faith.

I refuse to have the dogs in our bedroom, but traipsing up and down the stairs in the dark is heading for the emergency room. The dog has always been moody, but at this rate she's going to not like her newly moody owners even more than the things she sees in the night. Perhaps a sleep mask is the answer. Or at least earplugs for us.

Old Age Day by Day March 4, 2011

I saw Cara Black last night, and she was delightful. Very accessible and friendly. She even came around before the reading and showed us all the February issue of National Geographic with it's map of Paris' underground tunnels. She made writing seem exciting and doeable, and as she had been a preschool teacher, something where a big switch can take place, even when it seems too late. I stood in line and had her inscribe a book for my older daughter, who loves her novels. I wished she were with me to hear her, but maybe she has seen the author, as Ms. Black had recently been to that city as well.

I came home full of ideas for novels and mysteries, and understanding better the underlying structure of a mystery. They are puzzles that must be carefully placed or the plot makes no sense. Unlike life, where nobody is placing the pieces or considering an overall plan unless it is we, ourselves. Sometimes, long after an event, I realize I did, at least subconsciously, place a piece in hopes of a later outcome I'd like, but not often. Of course, education and career choices are puzzle pieces, but seldom relationships. And luck and serendipity seem, to me at least, to play a major role in how a life unfolds. The best preparation seems to be flexibility and a sense of humor, as well as a strong sense of resilience.

So - "Murder in Passy" promises to be a delightful read, and in the process I will learn more about Paris and its districts and history and ambiance. I love that.

Old Age Day by Day March 3, 2011

Last night at my Spanish class I was feeling frustrated and a bit embarrassed, because I feel I should be further along than I am. I don't study much in between classes, and I probably should get the Rosetta Stone Spanish, because when I saw it on my daughter's computer, I realized how visual I am. I don't think I retain enough aurally. So, though some of my slowness might be aging, it is also lack of effort and unwillingness to put the money down where it might do the most good.

I know I used a lot of "Should"s in the previous rant, and there is no should. Nobody is pushing me, or pressuring me, and I have no travel plans to a Spanish speaking country. So the standard by which I'm measuring myself is my own. This is a pattern that I recognize with studying languages. Throughout my life, I have been unwilling to study really hard, and go the lab, listen to the tapes enough to really master the language. The one chance I had for immersion was living in a foreign country for two years, but everyone spoke English to me, even my husband, who by simply speaking his language when with me, could have allowed me to be proficient. I did not take advantage of my opportunity .

Now it may be that I'm having one of those irresistible impulses to put myself down. It happens. The voice of my long dead parents pop up and act disappointed in me. I begin comparing myself to others and find myself wanting. I have all the bad habits at my fingertips when I feel like being miserable.

Or it could be, if I examine the situation carefully, that there is an adjustment I could make that would facilitate the learning process, and I am blocking it. Hummmm. A change in my schedule next week, allowing for some new effort, a baby one, would not be too hard, now would it?

Old Age Day by Day March 2, 2011

The tree people are here again, and I don't mean a singing group. The noise sounds like dentist drills for giants. They are friendly and funny and have taken over my island of solitude for another day. I'll be ready by noon to escape for a while. Already there is a feeling of light and space that I like. It feels like a new haircut for the house. I just hope the styling is okay when its done.

I had lunch with a friend yesterday and afterward looked at her two goldfish in a basin in her back yard. One is white and one orange. They a big bellied goldfish, so they looked chubby and sweet. I realized that I haven't thought of fish as pets since our younger son had some for a few years. But they did seem dear and watching them swim is relaxing. My friend has it all set up to siphon half the water out and replace it every few days to refresh the water, and the sun on the water and the plants floating in the middle made it seem a kind environment. I guess I've had cats for so many years I never thought of fish, but now that our two cats are deceased, we might carefully bring fish into our lives. Perhaps two crazy dogs are enough, however. It's a full time job being in charge of them.

And this morning I noticed my first daffodils had sprung up and opened. The kind with white outer petals and the cone of yellow. Nothing is more lovely to me.

Old Age Day by Day March 1, 2011

Wow! March. Mad as a March Hare. What does that mean? There are six guys in my back yard readying themselves to prune most of our trees. Did they call before they came? Of course not. Soon there will be whirring and saw screaming and shades of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Luckily, I can always get in the car and escape. On the weekend, my husband and I probably got bleach poisoning cleaning the showers. Now noise pollution. But I'm happy with the bathrooms and will be with the yard. Spring. It is a madness.

Many daffodils are out, and tulip trees and grape hyacinths are almost ready. It's a joy to walk the neighborhood. I'm thinking of sandals, and maybe a dress. The first day I can walk the dogs in the morning without a jacket. No mud. Baseball. Ah, March.