Old Age Day by Day September 22, 2013

Today the A's cinched the Division title for the West.  It's very gratifying.  And it's our older son's wedding anniversary, and he and his wife are huge A's fans.  It's also beautiful, sunny and the perfect start of the Fall season.  We took the dogs to a fundraiser for the humane society, as our daughter volunteers there.  We bought doggie bandanas, raffle tickets, ice cream and tee shirts.  We saw every kind of dog imaginable.  Our dogs were great, and had a lot of attention as well as one man taking multiple photos of them.  Of course, the urge is to adopt every single dog there, but we resisted.  I hope they made a lot of money, as they need to build a new shelter. 

I went to meditation this morning and saw my friend there.  I'm afraid I gave her the flu I had, but at the time I had no idea I was sick.  She had it for 3 1/2 weeks, so I feel guilty.  I don't usually get sick, but given the stress I was under, it's not too surprising.  I'm trying to take better care of myself now. 

Old Age Day by Day September 21, 2013

As I began writing, a downpour came down from the sky.  It's a nice, heavy rain, which we really needed to clean up the leaves and plants and give our earth a thirsty drink.  It feels great.  However, it might mean the A's game is delayed, and we're all hoping they clinch the division at home.  And our dogs, who were headed out for a long walk at the reservoir, may have to wait for their exercise.  But, all in all, it's a happy occasion when rain begins, after many months of dryness and fires and increasing struggles of our plants.

So this is Fall to us.  Rain again.  And lo and behold, we have new gutters, and a new roof, and feel pretty snug and secure.  Now, the question is, what to do?  There are not really any movies out yet that I want to see.  But I am reading a book my younger son recommended, "Carter Beats the Devil", which is gripping and delightful in a Chabon, Doctorow kind of way.  And it's set right here, though back in the twenties.  I might attempt to call my grandchildren, as they are supposed to be around this weekend.  Cleaning the house is always needed, but who wants to do that?  All will reveal itself in time.

Old Age Day by Day September 20, 2013

I just came back from a nice walk with a friend.  We talked art for the first part of the time, and as she is the one who raved about "The Impressionists on the Water", I happily shared my enthusiasm.  We usually talk art, politics and catch up about our families and friends.  I'm so grateful for such friends.

I'm getting my hair cut today.  I'm back and forth, and will be until the last minute, about whether to cut it a little or a lot.  I like being able to pull it back and up, but it looks horrible down.  I may have to shorten it, as I'm reminding myself of witches and Halloween every time I look in the mirror.  I wish I was better about getting my hair tame, but it's hopeless.  I'll let my haircutter decide, no doubt.  She's been with me through long and short.

I finished a fascinating book about Alex Dumas, the real Count of Monte Cristo.  Alexandre Dumas, his son, based a lot of his tales on experiences of his father, a black general who was a count because of his father, who lived with his mother, a slave, in what is now the Dominican Republic.  In France, his father was a legend militarily, and rose to command armies and campaigns, but was on the wrong side of Napoleon, and ended up losing his health at a young age, being held captive in what is now Italy.  The parallels between his father and the suffering of the Count of Monte Cristo are close, and maybe partially explain the passion with which the writer told his tales.  As a kid I adored "The Count of Monte Cristo", "The Man in the Iron Mask" and "The Three Muskateers".  I was a romantic, and the French were my cup of tea.  I only loved Victor Hugo's novels better.  I should reread them, but so far I've only reread "Les Miserables".  It has absolute greatness.  But "The Count" is a very guilty pleasure, and I'm sure I'd enjoy it again.  It was interesting to discover that right before the French Revolution, France was the least racist place on the planet, and people of color, as they were called, had many rights and rose to distinguished heights.  Napoleon killed all that, but for a brief time people like the Dumas family were free to be full citizens.  Yet, as the book says, there is still no statue of Dumas the father, though every other general in French history has one somewhere in Paris.

Old Age Day by Day September 19, 2013

Today and tomorrow I have lunches out for my birthday, so this celebrating thing is stretching out nicely.  The weather is great and I'm cheerful enough about getting older.  Evidently the Google founders are becoming nervous about their own aging, as they've formed a group to do research and perhaps save them from the horrors the rest of us mortals face.  Perhaps I'm being too cynical, but it must be a shock to have all the money in the world and still not be in control.  Steve Jobs being a case in point.  They're like Siddhartha, insulated for a time through wealth and privaledge, then realizing that life is not static, and and what is created is also destroyed, or transformed at least.

I had a nice long talk with my best friend last night, catching up on recent events, sharing feelings and just generally having fun.  She had been on a trip, and I had right before, so we had some describing to do.  It always feels better to me after I've "checked in" with her.  So good to have a swim buddy in this sea of life.

Old Age Day by Day September 18, 2013

I've just finished filling out a form online for a colonoscopy appointment.  I've spent at least twenty minutes a day for five days, but finally I somehow got the passwords and codes right.  What a headache!  I know it saves them typing stuff in, but good grief!  I actually think I need to take an aspirin.  The joys of being computer illiterate and aged, so I need all these tests. 

I had a nice walk with the dogs as I ran into my friend and her granddaughter.  They were off to dance class.

Yesterday's museum visit was great.  The paintings were sublime, especially one of Monet's of a houseboat, and one of Vuillard's of a boatman.  But there was a Manet, lots of Monet, a Bonnard, Signacs, Seurats, Renoirs and other delicious paintings.  There were three huge Caillebottes, and they were gorgeous.  My friend and I had a delightful time, and I came home with two puzzles for my husband, a book on late Bonnard, and lovely notecards.  What a pleasant outing!  My husband was so impressed he' off by himself in the city to the the show, as it ends next week.  I feel he will happy he made the effort to see the show.

Old Age Day by Day September 17, 2013

Today I'm taking a friend to see an art show in the city.  I've been meaning to get to the show before, and it's nearing the end at this point.  To do this I must face traffic and probably commute clog returning, so it becomes an all day outing.  I haven't seen this friend in quite a while, so the trip will be good from that point of view. 

I printed out a bunch of new photos of our granddaughter yesterday.  I miss her so much, and she's growing so fast.  It was adorable to see how her face expresses her feelings so well.  It was kindergarten week, and there was trepidation, joy, worry, pride, the whole gamut.  She had on carefully picked out necklaces and bracelets, in her snowy white socks and little dresses.  How brave we have to be as we grow up.  Her little life is as complex and demanding as any adults', and yet people talk up kindergarten as if it's all sunshine and flowers.  It's more, much more, and for a while we are overwhelmed, then we carve our way into that new life, and make our place in it.  But it isn't easy, it's never easy.

Old Age Day by Day September 16, 2013

I watched the DVD of Terence Malick's "To the Wonder" last night.  Yes, it is silly and ridiculous, and Ben Affleck has no acting to do, but it is riveting, in a Malick way.  I flipped back and forth, thinking I knew what he was saying and feeling I had no idea.  Nothing is helped by Kureschenko being fairylike and twirling around like a four year old.  I believe the narration guides the viewer to believe this is a simulation of the turbulence and transitory nature of love.  But there are threads of story, never developed, never dropped, that play with us, and I don't mean in a good way.  It will be interesting to see what Malick come up with next:  probably a soundtrack without film to be played before a film without sound.

Anyway, he's always pretty fascinating, stretching the limits of what a film can do, and failing and succeeding in about equal parts.  His world view, however, is insistently compelling.

Today I'm off to get vacuum cleaner bags, and to the post office.  Will there be bigger thrills in store?  I doubt it.