Halloween is Not My Holiday

When Carter was little and I could make her costume without her wanting to have a say in it, I was all into Halloween. It was my creative outlet to sew, draw or craft up some fabulous costume for her. She was a dragon fly, or a garden or scrapbook made out of cloth with pages that turned of family photos printed on the fabric. As she got older and had a say I turned into the purchaser of the materials and eventually she just did everything herself.

Now that she is not living at home I am completely disinterested in Halloween. For my own good there is no candy in this house. Our House will be dark, hidden behind the gigantic magnolia grove which completely hides our house even if the lights were on. Walking down our long walkway to a dark house where old people live will be way too scary for any little trick or treaters. Without a lit pumpkin or at least a porch light on, why would they ever waste the walk up our hill and down our walkway?

Instead I am busy painting Christmas ornaments for the new Christmas tree I am adding to the Sunroom this year. Every year I craft one new Christmas decoration. This year I will have three and any of my guests in December who can figure out where all three are will win a dollar.

Painting these ornament takes a while because I can only do part of one and then have to let it dry before I can add the other side or the new color. I have been working on them a hour or two over the last three days and I am hardly done with two of the 40 I plan on making. The deadline I have artificially set for myself is to have them done by the time Carter comes home for Thanksgiving.

I am teaching a bunch between now and then and am leaving the country for work for six days so I am going to have to keep cranking. Not tonight after the sun goes down though. The house must remain dark and silent. I can’t risk a ringing door bell.

Ina Garten’s Hairdo

My name in Carter’s phone is Ina Garten. We look somewhat alike and we both love to cook and teach people things. So when Carter told me she was listening to Ina’s memoir, Be Ready When the Luck Happens and suggested I should listen to it, so I did.

Outside of our hairdo and coloring I never thought I was much like Ina. I have admired her for a long time, but she is a more soft spoken person than I could ever be.

I started listening to her book, read by her, which is comforting. Her back ground could not be more different from mine, even though we grew up fairly near each other. She came from a Jewish family (which I might have come from in another life.) in Brooklyn, who eventually moved to Stamford, CT. Her parents were abusive, even though her surgeon Father appeared respectable. They had no confidence in Ina and belittled her quite a lot. I had a father who did the opposite, always telling me I could do anything and that I was better than I actually was.

The one similarity is our mothers both did not believe in feeding the children and never once had a carb in the house. Maybe that is why we both became cooks.

Ina’s more scientific about her cooking. She would test and retest recipes over and over. She said she never served something for a dinner party she did not pre-test first. I am quite the opposite. I never test anything in advance and can almost never recreate something exactly as I had made it before because I cook by the seat of my pants. That is also the way I ran my catering business.

I remember one customer calling me wanting me to cook beef ribs like they did in Texas. I had never even eaten beef ribs, let alone cook them. This was before the internet so I had to find a recipe or wing it. I winged it. The customer loved them. To me they seemed like something out of the Flintstones, giant bones too big for a plate.

One similarity is Ina likes a challenge to keep her creative juices flowing. I am the same way, but where we differ is I feel like I can do anything that I really want to do, even if I have never done it before and have no experience doing it. My attitude has always been, if I can pay a person to do something for me then I can probably learn to do it myself. This is especially true when it comes to making things.

Listening to Ina’s book has been delightful. She is an incredibly hard worker and has a lot of great insights about running her businesses, which are very successful. But outside of our hairdos, and the fact that we both were in the food business, I find I am not like her at all. I really like her, but she is just much nicer than I ever will be and just not quite as irreverent or funny.

It Would Takes Weeks to Read All This

I spent six hours today driving to class, teaching and driving home. That was six hours I didn’t look at my text messages or email on my phone. I got home and looked and I had 24 texts and 265 emails all from political operatives. Some asking for money, some asking for advice, all wondering if I had voted, which I had 10 days ago. Some just pointing out the obvious.

I had requests from candidates in far off states I have never been too. Some for candidates in my own state, but for whom I can’t vote for because I don’t live in their district and some from candidates I would never in a million years vote for because they are the most vile human beings who ever walked the earth.

One who shall go unnamed, suggests that a pregnant woman’s life is not her own. If it is between her life and the life of the unborn fetus the fetus is more important and she can just die. To that I suggest if a woman dies due to lack of health care brought on by the government not allowing her medical attention, then the father of that child should die too since he contributed to the death of that woman by impregnating her. Let’s see how many men like that idea. But I digress.

My point of all this is I just don’t know what I am going to do with my time after November 5 when I assume I will not be receiving all these texts and emails. I could fill two or three days if I decided to read all of these things from just one day.

Every once in a while I will read some of the outrageous ones. It’s best to read them out loud and scream the sentences that are in all caps or in red. I liked the olden days when politicians had to pay to print and mail things because at least they took a little more care with the copy when it had to get printed.

I have stopped watching TV so I don’t have any ads, but sadly I still need to look at my texts, what if their is a lost dog in the neighborhood?

Order out of Chaos

I was in Smithfield today teaching. Russ sent me an instagram link and on my way home calls and asks me if I saw it. I told him of course I didn’t see it, I was teaching two classes. So he tells me all about it.

Julia Roberts was on Steven Colbert and when Steven asked her what she was doing these days she said, “I play Mah Jongg with my friends.” Some people in the audience clap as they too were mah Jongg players. Steven found this amazing. He asked if she could explain it to him and she said absolutely not, but then went on to give the best explanation.

She said is was making order of out random chaos. Order out of chaos. That is what I teach. I know that my beginner students look at me like I have two heads when I tell them to have faith and keep at it because I know that we all have the capacity to make order out of chaos.

Now if Mah Jongg players could just run the country we would be in better shape. We are calm and patient and have faith, all while being kind to each other. Maybe all leaders should learn Mah Jongg.

This is a Job?

When I tell strangers my job is teaching Mah Jongg I already get questions. Somehow I have lucked into doing something I love with people I adore as a job.

Teaching classes is understandable as work, but today I had a better gig. Last spring my friend Tracey called to ask if I would be the surprise at a Mah Jongg garden party. Well, Yes.

Tracy was very patient waiting for an available date, which was today. She did a great job keeping my appearance a secret for so many months.

So I drove to Winston-Salem this afternoon and joined in her party. I had taught about half of her guests before, either at Roaring gap or in Winston, or the beach, but the other half had no idea what they were in for.

Tracey asked me to give a little talk about strategy, which you know I could do for hours. Then we had play time. Each table was rotated for a game at my table. It was the big challenge to beat me. Some excited players did beat me, which makes me very happy for them.

Tracey was the kindest hostess and it was a most lovely afternoon at her beautiful home. Doing a job as a surprise guest is great work if you can get it. Always love going to Winston. Thanks, Tracey.

Join me at High Hampton

One day I got a call from Mary Celeste Beall from Black Berry Farm. (I had been wanting to visit Black berry farm for years.) She was calling because she recently has taken over High Hampton in Cashiers, NC, a fine old mountain resort and redone it. She was inquiring about my teaching Mah Jongg at High Hampton. It was a lovely conversation and I agreed to come for two long weekends. The first will be Jan. 30-Feb. 4. I will be teaching both Beginners and Beyond Beginners.

There is no better place to learn the fun game than a beautiful resort. Class will be three hours each day and the rest of the time students are free to enjoy all the activities of the resort. I think this makes a great girls or Mother/daughter trip, but men are always welcome and make great players.

I went on the High Hampton’s Website today and discovered my class was the home page for the resort. You don’t have to stay at High Hampton to come to class, so if you have a mountain house near Cashiers you can just sign up for class.

Mah Jongg lessons make the perfect Christmas gift for that someone in your life who already has everything. I will also be there again in April if Spring is more your season.

Thankfully High Hampton was not hurt in Hurricane Helene. I am looking forward to going and enjoying all the mountains have to offer. I hope to see some friendly faces there.

For information http://www.highHampton.com

For the Love of Nancy

When I was a girl I needlepointed. As it was an expensive hobby I didn’t keep it up, but I never lost the skill. Then one year I noticed a friend’s needlepoint Christmas ornaments and was wild for them. She introduced me to Nancy at Chapel Hill Needlepoint. That was over 12 years, over 300 needlepoint projects and a billion dollars ago and I love it more today.

One of the best things about needlepoint are the friends I have made stitching. Nancy is the center of my needlepoint universe of which there are many satellites orbiting.

One great friend I have made through Nancy is Kate. Nancy is Kate’s person. Last winter Kate went with Nancy to a needlepoint trade show. While there Kate secretly talked to a canvas designer and asked her to produce 12 ornaments about needlepoint and Nancy in particular. Kate was creating the 12 days of needlepoint. When she got the canvases she asked eleven of the most faithful of stitchers if we would each stitch one ornament for Nancy.

Of course no one said no. We had two weeks to do it with specific instructions about colors and sparkle threads, as Nancy loves sparkle. I got the number five which was scissors as I love scissors. After stitching we turned the canvases into Kate who then had them finished into ornaments. Kate bought a white tree for displaying them.

As Nancy’s birthday is in two weeks Kate secretly searched Nancy’s calendar to find a time we could gather to give her this surprise gift. Her store normally closes at four on Friday’s. I arrived at three, acting like I was just there to pick up some finishing. The store was packed with so many friends, all stitching and some other customers who just happened to be shopping.

So at four most everyone got up to leave the store to get the random customers to leave too. Nancy asked me to stay and talk and Kate suggested we could play mah Jongg. Nancy and I sat down at the table and not five minutes later all the stitching friends reappeared at the door carrying twelve colorful gift bags, cupcake boxes and other goodies.

Nancy did not know what was going on and we screamed, “Happy Birthday.”

Nancy opened each bag and exclaimed about the beauty of each ornament, a little overwhelmed by the extravagance of this very personal and loving gift. After she had opened them all Kate told the whole complicated story of making this gift happen, which involved lots of secrets and covert actions.

As stitchers we all really appreciate when someone stitches something for us. We know the amount of work and love that goes into a needlepoint gift. So to give Nancy 12 ornaments all about her was a big expression of love. It never would have happened if it wasn’t for Kate as she bought all the canvases for us to stitch.

Strange Sighting

I woke up this morning a little sad because it is my friend Hugh’s Birthday today. Hugh left the earth in February and I still think of him as here. I didn’t see him in person often, but our deep bond still existed and he will always remain one of my favorite people. It’s funny how I know all the birthdays of my long time friends, even ones I don’t see much, and even those who are no longer alive.

I had to go to get a chest X-ray today because I have had walking pneumonia four times this year. I wasn’t really worried that I might have some terrible illness, until I got to the radiologist and had to sit waiting for an hour and a half in a very full waiting room. I mostly played a game on my phone and the longer I sat, the more I wondered what terrible thing they might find in my chest X-ray.

I had a little panic that I have so many classes scheduled and if I needed some kind of treatment what would I do? I looked up from my phone at one point and across the room I saw an older man who was sitting at a right angle to me so I saw him in profile. I did a quick double take because he was a big, fair-skinned, freckled bald man, wearing silver rimmed rectangular glasses, in a blue work shirt and wide red suspenders. He was the spitting image of my father.

I immediately teared up. I couldn’t help myself. I knew he was not my father, who has been gone three years, but he not only looked like him he was wearing an outfit I saw my father wear often. I took my reading glasses off to wipe the tears, that would not stop, away. I looked up and the man was gone.

It was not a Large waiting room. The man I saw was no more than 12 feet away from me. The only way in or out of the room was via the two elevators that opened right into the waiting room. No nurse had come out and called anyone’s name and no elevator had opened or shut.

I have had not visions of my father since his passing, but I have had dreams with him in them, just as I have had a bunch of dreams where Hugh made an appearance. I took this sighting of my “father “ as a sign I was going to be OK. Why OK and not that I had something terribly wrong with me? I just figured he would not be the one to give me a premonition of bad news. Not his style.

I had my X-ray and did some errands before my class tonight. After class I checked my email before I got home. The results from my X-ray were in. All good. My lungs were clear and my heart looked good. Still a mystery about the walking pneumonia, but at least that’s not fatal.

I’m certain there are many people who look like my Dad. This easily could just be some old man, but it sure was strange. The other thing is I haven’t just started crying thinking about my Dad being gone. So the quickness of my tears really caught me by surprise. I really felt like I was being given a message. Glad it was good news. It couldn’t be bad news on Hugh’s birthday. Not his style either.

Fix It Season

Some people have seasons that follow the weather. Warm fall, cool fall, warm winter, cool winter, one cold week, one warm week, another cold week, the daffodils are up in February week, ice storm week. You get the picture. Some people divide their year up into seasons that are tied to their children’s schedules. Buying school supplies month, worrying about back to school week, finally back to school week, school parent night week – which feels like a month, fall break — what the hell we just started school week, too many school parties week, project week- going and buying expensive cardboard at Micheal’s and doing the child’s project yourself week. And so on.

I never lived by the weather as my seasonal break down and Carter has been a grown up long enough that I don’t ever have to think about the kid seasons again. My seasons are totally different.

I have the hiding in Maine season, followed by easing back into Durham life season, which involves not really unpacking all my Maine stuff and spending a week sorting mail, now I am in the fix it season, where I finally get around to calling all the professionals to fix plumbing issues, window cleaning, gutter and roof cleaning and all the other chores that have been round since spring cleaning season. The fix it season must be done in time for the holiday extravaganza season, which is preceded by the holiday party menu planning season.

The fix it season is the most critical as there is a hard start to the extravaganza season, which also needs the invitation season to be worked in before.

I have already had inquiries about the extravaganza calendar from those expecting to participate in one or more extravaganzas. This year the extravaganza season is a week shorter due to late Thanksgiving. That’s good and bad news. That means that the gift creation season is a week longer, but the extravaganzas are going to happen closer together. The rub on that means the cooking season is shorter, requiring better advanced planning.

Thankfully the broken refrigerator from the Maine Season, forced the premature cleaning out of the garage freezer so there is room for advance cooking containment during the shortened extravaganza season, but requires a push forward of the menu planning season to accommodate the search for freezable recipes.

I see a major overlap in this year’s seasons prior to January one. That is when the purge season begins.

So just to repot I am fully in Fix It season today and plan to start one or more sections of extravaganza planing season tomorrow. I am at a loss about gift creation and welcome all suggestions.

Some Pay Back

At last the mother daughter team of Ruby Freeman and Shaye Moss, of Georgia election workers defamed by Rudy Giuliani are going to get a small portion of the money he owes them for defaming them.

A court in NYC has ordered Giuliani to turn over his NYC apartment, his watch collections, old Mercedes and a jersey signed by Joe DiMaggio, along with jewelry, TV’s and furniture. It won’t come close to the $148 Million the court found him guilty for, but it is something. Who knows how much the lawyers are going to take. I think it would be fun for the women to go to NYC and spend a night in the apartment before it gets sold.

We have to hold people accountable for lying and ruining innocent people’s lives for political gain. Of course no one is coming to Giuliani’s rescue. The person he did this for is never going to cough up a cent to save him.

I hope people will learn doing dirty work for someone else is never going to pay off. There has to be a day of reckoning And the little people always pay. Poor fools. What did you think was going to happen? At least you weren’t pushed down the stairs.

At Last, No Mats

Poor Shay. Prior to today her last professional grooming was in early August before our trip north. She looked cute all the way through Maine, but by the time we got home she was desperate for a hair cut. Her words, not mine.

I looked at her calendar and turns out she did not have a grooming appointment. I thought I had made them for the whole year, but turned out when I made them in January I only could do it up until August. By the time I called her groomer not an appointment was available for the rest of the year.

I gave her a home grooming, which I liken to a Toni home permanent of the 1960s. A look no one endorsed. The real problem is I just cut the top and not the hairs close to her body. She went for her annual check up and they said she’s healthy, except for that hair cut.

Thankfully her vet knew of a groomer who was taking new clients. A nice woman on Carter Street. I took that as a good sign. I drove Shay over this morning and Rae, the groomer, came out To the car to meet Shay and we talked a few minutes. Shay willing went back with her and in less than two hours I got a call Shay was done.

She is clean and mat free. All her hair is short as we had to start new before Shay could go back to a cute style, but at least nothing is curling too tightly like that Toni Perm.

I asked Rae how far in advance I needed to call to get another appointment and she said two weeks. WOW. We might have a new groomer. The best part is Shay hated going to the groomer for the whole day. To get in and get out makes her a happy girl, which make me a happy Mom. I love a doodle, but the up keep on hair is a real thing. I’ll take it over shedding any day, especially if I have a reasonable groomer.

Gratitude and Grief

My friend Holley has been living with ALS for more than two years. Holley has been a trooper through this most harrowing journey. Her sparkle and effervescence have remained publicly, but she is still human and has to face so much.

Holley is my age and I can’t help but feel robbed of yet another friend my age, as I lost my 45 and 40 year long friends Stori and Hugh, in the last little bit.

In the most Holley way she invited her friends to come to a guided gathering called Holley’s Gratitude and Grief circle. It was a chance for us to discuss our love for Holley and the situation. In the most Holley way we did a little arts and crafts session to express our gratitude. Then we were invited to stand up and talk. We all want to just about Holley to Holley.

The common theme is that Holley has always made every person she has ever met that they were the most important person in the world. It is a quality I recognize as my father was the same way, but Holley is always nice.

You can imagine that as we were each talking about and to Holley we shed more than a few tears. Although she can can no longer talk, she still communicates with her phone talking for her. Holley thanked us and gave us each a card she made. We all know there is no way out, but Holley has done everything possible for us to feel all the feelings, both grief and gratitude.

I am so grateful to call Holley a friend as she has thousands, but I also feel the grief at what comes next. With my friend’s Stori and Hugh I did not have any time to say goodbye. I am thankful to have the time to leave nothing unsaid with Holley. She is my hero. She inspires so many. Thank you dear, sweet sparkly Holley.

Do Your Civic Duty

We don’t like to take any chances when it comes to voting. You never know if you might get hit by a car and be hold up in the hospital on Election Day. So we went for early voting today. It is so easy to do. In Durham you can go to any early voting site. They will have the right ballot for you. We did not have to wait in line, because they had so many poll workers. There was a full house of people voting and more coming in as we were going out.

Carter is working at the polls in her new neighborhood in Boston this year. I am so proud of her to be doing her civic duty.

Please go vote early in person if your state has that as an option. Our ballots today got tabulated just as they would if it were Election Day, just no data about who the votes are for will be released until after polls close on the fifth.

Make a plan to vote and don’t think for one minute your vote won’t matter. This year more than ever it counts.

The Nick Saban of Mah Jongg

My friend Ruth E. and I decided we really like all the friends in Houston as they were the most hospitable group. We stayed in a fairy tale house in a fairy tale neighborhood. Sometimes Fairy Tales are scary and so many house were Uber decorated for Halloween. We are talking dozens and dozens of pumpkins at each house. Scores of those giant skeletons and giant dog skeletons. Hundreds of smaller skeletons, spiders and ghosts.

I guess if your house is 20,000 or 30,000 square feet the number of pumpkins is proportional. I can’t imagine what it is like on Halloween night. Then again, there are giant walls and fences around so many houses I am not sure if trick or treaters can get in.

Our hostess, who had one of the most fabulous houses in the neighborhood drove us around and one street away from hers was one called Lazy Lane. Lazy Lane had the biggest collections of mansions on perfectly manicured lots all with gates, and guards in guard houses.

Talk about a boring job. Sitting in a little box and waiting for someone to come over. Sometimes you couldn’t see the house, maybe just a top of a roof. Even a peek of a peak was enough to tell me I was glad I would not have to reroof one of those houses. It would cost as much as my whole house.

But don’t judge a person by their roof. My students were so sweet, fun and kind. One of the best was someone who couldn’t even come to class, but had taken from me in the Bahamas. She came to the cocktail party and we caught up. Sadly she did come to dinner with us.

At 10:30 last night she texted she was running over in her PJ, to bring me a jar of a cbd cream called be chill. She said it changed her life when she rubbed it on her feet and legs. Thankfully the security guard let her in at that late hour.

It was delivered to my room as I was also already in my PJ. I rubbed some of the special cream on my tired feet and legs from standing up all day. They did tingle. I am not sure how long that sensation lasted as I passed out right away. Sadly I had to leave the jar with her friend to return to her because it was too big to go in my carry on only bags and I didn’t want it thrown away by the TSA.

I am hoping this is not my last trip to Houston. It was pretty magical. I was paid the highest compliment by my host who hails from Louisiana, when his grown up son stopped by this morning. He introduced me to his son as the Nick Saban of Mah Jongg. Since the family considers coach Saban the goat, his son practically bowed for me upon his father’s proclamation. How can you not love that?

Glorious Day

Such a wonderful day of fabulous students, hosts and friends and food. I am dead tired from teaching a five hour class, going to a cocktail party, then out to dinner. It all was so great, but the highlight was meeting our hosts sweet new first granddaughter and her parents.

Our day started with the most delicious breakfast and great conversation. Our hosts could teach royalty how to entertain. There is no need that have not anticipated and provided generously for.

The club holding the lessons did a perfect job setting everything up for this class of experienced players. I knew about half of them from the Bahamas and so loved getting to know the news one. Everyone worked hard and were such polite and attentive students.

We enjoyed a yummy lunch during our break and it was wonderful to catch up with friends who are also friends of my Suzanne and Steve. Texas may be big, but everybody seems to know everybody else.

After class we returned to the home of our hostess and got to meet one of her sweet daughters, her husband and their new 12 week old daughter. She was the best holy baby and it was fun to lie on the swinging beds on the screened porch and play with her.

The rest period was much too short because we had to change for our next party which was billed as drinks and a conversation about mah Jongg. It was drinks and just conversation. I was so happy that one friend who could not make the class did come to the party and we sat and gabbed.

From drinks we went to dinner and had fantastic Mexican food which was probably the best Mexican I have ever had. By 9:00 I was thoroughly exhausted and my hostess recognized it and brought me home. I am not fully ensconced in my luxurious suite.

It’s going to be sad to leave tomorrow, but not until I have had another day with these great people.

We have been feted, spoiled and entertained. No one can say I don’t have the best job ever.

It’s Houston, So It Has to Be Fabulous

Today was the get to Houston day. It was easy. My friends Ruth E. and Frank were traveling with me. Frank did all the heavy lifting when it came to overhead bins and we had an uneventful and on time trip to Houston.

Houston where everything is bigger, the airport, the traffic, the motels beside the highways. Frank drove with Ruth E. doing an excellent job navigating as we had to make not one, but two different left exits on highways within mere tenths of miles of entering said highways on the right.

Cars let Frank merge every time as if they could tell he is such a nice guy and they would want to let him in. This would never happen in Boston.

We arrived at the beautiful home were we are guests. The gardens and the landscaping are so exquisite and we were given a full tour as it was the absolutely perfect weather day. Then we had the house tour and by then I was just exhausted. That was fine because there was an hour to refresh before we were going to dinner to meet some other wonderful friends.

I unpacked and rested a little, but not until I had studied the paper art on my bathroom toilet tissue. As an accomplished lover of doing paper crafts I might be able to recreate this bow design, but probably not to this perfection. While’s studying the toilet tissue I noticed a button next to the roll, so I pushed it. It was the control button for the fan. Brilliant. You know you need the fan while sitting on the throne. Doesn’t it make sense to put the button there?

It’s a perfect world here. I am not sure I am going to be able to go home to Durham and look at my lawn and not feel shame. But now I have to rest to be ready for class tomorrow. It’s Houston, so it has to be fabulous.

Clothes Don’t Make the Woman

I’m off to Houston tomorrow to teach a class. A wonderful group of women have invited me to their club. Along with the invitation to teach, they are hosting me and having dinners and parties. Today my friend told me the dress code for the club and how fancy one restaurant we are going to is.

I am a carry-on only traveler. This means the shoes I usually bring are limited to the pair I wear and one pair in my suitcase. I also usually bring one outfit a day. Perhaps an extra dinner outfit, but no more.

My cousin Meredith, who lives in Houston, describes Houston as Texas Fancy. This is in direct conflict with my North Carolina casual. Now add the issue that when I am teaching I am standing up for six hours in a row, so shoe comfort is the most important issue.

Last consideration is the weather. Today it was 95° there. Thankfully it will be cooler tomorrow. Nonetheless I am always at a loss what to wear in hot fall weather. I feel like my summer clothes feel out of place as far into the fall as we are.

So as I picked out my clothes I balanced all these issues and pray that I distract the class with brilliance so no one cares what I am wearing. I don’t care what I wear I just don’t want to embarrass my hosts.

The Line Has Been Crossed

I saw a truly disturbing political ad, worse than I have ever seen in my life. That is saying something considering that in 2016 I saw an ad in another state that said, “let’s bring (southern state name here) back to a time between the revolutionary war and the civil war.”

Today’s ad had a disclaimer from ABC where I saw the ad, it said, “we are not allowed to refuse to run ads, but this station does not condone the content of this ad which might be upsetting.” This disclaimer ran before and after the ad.

It was photos of mutilated babies and I will not go into it further, nor name the candidate who deserves no attention. But politicians and their lying have gone too far. I watch ads where the clips and they way they are cut are clearly mis-portraying their opponents positions, but this ad was different.

We need to change the laws about what can be shown on free public airways. We should not need disclaimers before ads. No ad should be so graphically disgusting to need a disclaimer both before and after the ad runs.

We only have 22 more days of ads. Please vote. We must end this madness. Only 66% of eligible voters came out in 2020 and we knew how important that election was. Make a plan, vote early in person if you can. Don’t let anything stop you.

Russ’ New Head Shot

Russ asked me if I would take a new head shot of him for some work thing he needed it for. Turns out his official head shot was 12 years old. I gladly agreed and we went out in the front yard and I snapped six shots, all great. It took all of 30 seconds.

I looked at his old head shot which was good, but I think he looks even better now. He just turned the big 60 and is so cute. I am biased. I do like his beard, but don’t tell him that. (I like when it is well groomed.)

I have to say that I really like his outfit, which I picked out for him this summer. Russ is the king of wearing clothes until they are too tattered for me to repair. He needs new Nantucket Red shorts, but does not like the price so the two old pairs keep getting reworn. No one much sees him in them, except the neighbors who pass him walking Shay.

Thankfully I didn’t have to take his head shot in old clothes. That old adage, clothes make the man is only partially true, but it makes an easier photo.

Do Better Red Cross

I’ve been involved with Non-profits for most of my life. I have raised money, sat on boards, chaired committees, been board chair, volunteered, auctioneered for events, done training and taught non-profit board workshops. Today I had an absolutely horrible experience as a donor of a non-profit and it was inexcusable.

I have O- blood. O- is the universal donor blood, meaning that it can go to anyone without issue. So if someone comes in the ER and needs blood in an emergency they can be given O- rather than waiting to type their blood and figure out what their exact match is. All blood types are needed, but O- is especially needed. So I get calls every week asking me to donate blood, which I do when I can. (I can’t give every week)

With all the hurricanes Russ decided that it would be good if we gave this week. He made an appointment at our local Red Cross donation center, then told me. I went on the app I have on my phone and by the time I did there were no spots at 8:30 when Russ was going so I took the 11:30 appointment.

I showed up at 11:20 as I am always early. I had done my pre-check on the app and was ready to go. The volunteer at the desk gave me a name tag with 11:30 written on it and I joined the other donors in the chairs awaiting to be called into the little cubicle to discuss my eligibility, as all donors do.

There were two phlebotomists with two donors lying on beds and at least ten people waiting in chairs. There was a very Loud TV playing some movie which honestly was the most annoying thing. I sat and read news on my phone as more and more people checked in.

I sat there for 40 minutes and not one person from the chair waiting area was called into a cubicle or had their blood drawn and the people who were on the beds were still there. It normally takes about 20 minutes to draw the maximum blood they can take.

A woman who was there before me got up to ask the phlebotomist how long it would be. He looked at his computer and mumbled something I could not hear. So I got up and asked. He looked at my name tag and then his computer and said I would get my draw at 2:00. WTF?

“My appointment was at 11:30, I should have been told at check in, (which was ten feet away) that you all are hours behind.”

“I can’t help it,” was his lame excuse.

This is no way to treat donors. This is not the first time I have had an issue with this donation center, but it will be the last.

I ripped my name tag off and handed it to the check in volunteer and said, “Please remove me from the list today.”

I drove home and wrote the Red Cross an email on the donor app. This is no way to treat donors. A little communication goes a long way.

Rested and Recentered

Yesterday was hard, today was easy. Thankfully I do plan some down time and today was it. As badly as I wanted to sleep in, and I had the time, my body woke up at six and said, that’s enough for you. Shay had her check up his morning so I got up and got going before I really had to.

Somehow Shay who is always 22 lbs has lost a tiny amount of weight. She has taken to eating some days and not eating much on others. The Vet did not like this development. I asked if it was Ok to add hamburger or steak to her chicken and kibble. The answer was, “Not really because I want her to get all the nutrients of a dog food. And you would have to be prepared to make hamburger forever.”

All the nutrients of a dog food sounds like a joke. My Vet knows Shay does not like kibble on a good day. We already feed her cooked chicken. Cooking hamburger is no harder. Going to the pet food store and buying every different kind of kibble just to see if she will eat them and then returning them is trouble. So tonight she got steak. If she needs to gain weight we can do that. At 13 years old it seems like she deserves it.

I decided I could just hang out and not vacuum or wash the glass storm doors and Shay snuggled with me.

This afternoon I had a big Mexican Train domino game at my friend Holley’s house with Jan, Theky and two of Holley’s daughters, Penn and Julia. Sadly Renee was not there but she had the best excuse. She was in Texas where her daughter was giving birth to a beautiful baby boy.

Holley is a game lover and Mexican train is a game that does not involve talking. It was a fun afternoon to all be together.

I got home to a beautiful orchid Carter had sent me just as a surprise. What a dear sweet daughter she is. It made my day even sweeter. Dinner with Russ and now I’m back to normal. Amazing how one restful day can recenter you.

Don’t Let Me Control my Calendar

Next time I agree to teach a morning class in one location and a night class in a different location for three days in a row remind me that I am too old to do that. Last week I taught three classes a day for three days, but they were all in the same place.

This week was harder. I would go to work early in the morning. Get home around 1:00 and hang out. Then get back in the car, drive to class at 4:45 and get home at 10. I would be too hyped up from the last class and then need to write. Do a bad job at that and have trouble going to sleep. Just to have to get up six hours later.

Thankfully three days of this is over. I know I have this type of schedule sometime in the future, but when I finish that I am not going to make this mistake again. I do this to myself because so many people want classes and I hate to disappoint them.

Thank goodness I have five days off in a row, before I go to Houston next week. Going to be wild.

Hurricanes are Getting in My Head

Between Helene and Milton the last two weeks have been hell on the places where the hurricanes have hit. My parents were in the middle of building a new house in South Carolina when Hugo hit them dead on. It changed the landscape for a very long time. I remember driving down highway 17 passing miles of trees snapped off at about the 12 foot height, every single one.

It will be a while before we will have an idea of how these two storms have changed the topography since they are so big. But the earth repairs and regrows. The people are changed forever.

I got to thinking about where homeless people go when it is time to evacuate. They hardly have shelter on a good weather day, but what happens to people who have so little. It’s not like you can ride out a hurricane under and overpass.

Who knows exactly how many unhoused people live in the path of the hurricane. How can they evacuate? What about people who live off the grid? I am certain there were plenty of the living in the mountains. Who checked on them?

I have been teaching morning and night this week and will again tomorrow so I have not seen any news. Maybe it’s best for me to not watch what is going on. I still think about it, but I’m not getting the photos in my head. Praying for safety.

Now is Not the Time to be a Science Denier

For the record I have never been a big fan of Florida. Not just the recent very red Florida, but The Florida that feels like nothing is very old or permanent, even if it might be old. The big difference in the nice places and the rest of the place make me uneasy. So in spite of my general dislike of Florida I am praying that everyone in the center of the state has gotten out.

This Milton is going to be a bitch and no one deserves that kind of hit, let alone two in two weeks. Storm surge is a killer and water always wins. Poor Naples has barely gotten over their last big hit and if the storm moves any further south it could happen again. Tampa hasn’t had a storm like this in 100 years, but then again 100 years ago no one much lived there, it was too awful before air conditioning was invented.

The real sucker punch is going to come when it is over because home owners insurance in Florida was already a nightmare with many insurance companies pulling out of the state in the recent past. The state created an insurance company, but the problem with that is it is certainly not collateralized enough when it only insures Florida properties. The risk is not spread out across the country.

If enough homeowners don’t have flood insurance then who knows how Florida is going to recover. It is the same problem with Hurricane Helene. People that live in Mountains don’t think about flood insurance and yet, it was floods that got most of them. The land scape and the futures did a wholesale change. And yet there are still climate change deniers.

I’m not sure getting wiped out by a weather event will change the minds of people who are hard core deniers, but it might be Darwin situation. If you don’t believe in listening to expert advice, or education, or think that by not teaching certain things means they don’t exist, then survival of the fittest might get you. If you listen only to fake news you might not get the information you need to make good decisions. In this case, not making a good decision could lead to your death.

Please, make good decisions and don’t stay in the path of a monster storm. Everyone who ever did stay in hurricanes and survived report afterwards that wished they had heeded the warnings. You have been warned. Just because you never left for any storm before, does not mean that you can survive this one.

Climate scientists are fairly good at giving you advance warnings. Now is not the time to stick to your “anti-science” beliefs. If you think God is going to save you he sent you scientists to tell you to get out. Don’t think God is going to save you beyond this warning. He already told you. Don’t be a Florida Man.

The Great Beyond and Other Questions

I was having a conversation with some friends today that turned slightly to death. Some of us had lost a parent or have an elderly parent who is not well. It didn’t go deep, it was a short part of a happier gathering, but it got me thinking.

I have lost a couple of dear friends in the recent past. People who went too young and unexpectedly or who had an illness, but I wish had more time. It made me start thinking about what I wish would happen when you die and some hopes and questions. Not that I will ever be able to prove how right or wrong I might be, but some based on what I have read from people who have near death experiences.

The idea of going toward the light seems to have a lot of fans. That sounds so much better than going into darkness, so I’ll subscribe to the light version.

Then there is the idea of seeing a loved one who passed before you. I like this idea too, but am wondering if you have a say in who it is? Perhaps a ranked list? I might also like a list of those I would prefer not to greet me upon arrival.

It would be ideal to see a loved one, but any old baggage is forgotten and you only have good memories. It would stink to be confronted by someone and right off have them bring up an old grievance. I tend to forget past misdeeds while I’m on earth, so I certainly don’t want to relive them someplace else.

My big question is about being able to see how my earthly loved ones are still doing. Not in a ghost kind of way, but more like a comforting way. Do I need to discuss a signal system, like Carol Burnet tugging on her earlobe. I know a lot of people think a rainbow might be a sign from someone, but I want something that can’t be explained meteorologically, or would be a really strange coincidence if it happened more than once. It also would have to be something that stood the test of time.

For example sample, I would not like the sign to be, “Every time you got .53¢ in change know I am with you.” Change is definitely going to be going away sometime. I think we could lose pennies in the next decade, at least we should. It shouldn’t be, “if you hear a stranger say ‘fart in a bucket’ then I am with you.” That is a saying only my family, and my friend Carol, says, today. It easily could become a common form of slang any day now so it would lose its impact as a sign. So I am unsure what might be a signal and will have to think on that.

I wonder if famous people on earth get to be regular people in the beyond. It would stink if Elvis would still have to hide out to get any peace. Although I wouldn’t mind putting a couple of famous people on my ranked list of who greets me. I have a few questions for Princess Diana and Ruth Bader Ginsburg. If there is one universal language I would also like to talk to Joan of arc.

Mostly I am wondering about sense of humor in the beyond. I am not sure how I would do if I have to be serious for the rest of millennia. Some of my favorite funny people have passed on and I would like to hear from them how they view the whole next step situation.

There is a lot to wonder about, but I’m not really worried so much as curious. Unfortunately there are not that many beings to interview about this subject. Speaking of beings I really hope that my favorite dogs will greet me when I get there. I also hope that they got to know each other before I get there, and even though they did not live at the same time, they are friends now. I don’t think there is any need to sleep when I get there, but I would like some snuggling with a sleeping puppy.

I have so many questions, but not a lot of fear. Of course I hope to be around longer, but based on the loss of friends I know there is no guarantee. I just hope to see you again, just not soon.

Christmas is Coming

The Best way to keep my mind off the election is too think about Christmas. Decorating for Christmas is my favorite part of the holiday, followed very quickly by having people over to eat so they can enjoy my decorating.

Each year I make at least one new thing that I add to my decorations. Needlepoint ornaments do not count as my one new thing. They are a constant. This has to be something substantial and original. It can be cheeky or serious, it can be a collection or one item, but I must make it.

This summer when I was in Maine I got a number of items that I am going to repurpose into Christmas decor. This weekend while Russ was away I made one of my new items. It was a tinsel wreath covered in wooden Christmas ornaments. It was a lot of work to find the ornaments. Used Christmas ornaments sell quickly and not on the cheep. I can only imagine what my collection is worth.

This wreath was inspired by my sparkly crafty friend Holley Broughton who is a wizard with a glue gun. I asked her advice about making this wreath and she told me that paddle wire was the way to go. She, of course was right.

I could not find a premade tinsel wreath I liked so I bought two wire wreath forms, one slightly smaller than the other and wired them together to make a big enough base. I then wound the tinsel through the wire forms before attaching the wooden ornaments.

Since it is early October I can’t hang this yet so it will live in my paper office where I might continue to add to it until Thanksgiving night when I can officially put it up.

I have a couple more projects to work on, but at least I know I have my one new item of the year ready to go.

Shay’s Least Favorite Day

My Daddy Left me home alone with Mommy. That alone makes me sad. Then Mommy said that we were going to play beauty parlor. I thought that might mean we were going to do her nails, but no. Mommy got the clippers out and knew what that meant.

So before I even had a chance to run and hide Mommy put me up on the kitchen counter. She knew it was too high for me to jump down from, so I stood there shivering. She got the clippers out and put a number 2 guard on them. I had not seen those things since the pandemic.

Apparently Mommy forgot to make my grooming appointments for after Maine and now there are no appointments until January. So I am going to have to at home haircuts for the rest of the year. This is not going to make me happy.

Since Mommy had not precharged the clippers the whole haircut took longer than it should have. Every time she got a good run of hair cut the clippers would stop. While she was giving them a good charge she cut my feet and face with the scissors. Oh the indignity of the whole at home grooming.

It probably took an hour and I knew it was a bad haircut based on the amount of hair on the floor. I did not bother to go look in the mirror. Instead I slunk off to the sunroom and hid under some pillows.

The only good news is she did not also give me a bath or cut my nails. I think that might be coming next week. There is only so much Mommy can handle in one weekend. She knows I am still mad at her because I would not look at her when she wanted to take my picture. Next year she won’t make this mistake and not make grooming appointments well in advance.

Fortnight of Check-ups

Today was my last doctor’s appointment in my fortnight of check ups. Two weeks ago Russ and I got our Covid and flu vaccines. Then I started in on all my checkups, which through some strange happenstance ended up in the same two week period.

It started with my annual GYN visit. After filling in the requisite paperwork, the same one I have been filling out annually for 30 years, I begged my wonderful doctor to please update what postmenopausal women fill out. Question 7. When was your last period? Really? How the hell an I supposed to remember. Look at my chart and you tell me. Question 11. Is there a chance you could be pregnant? Not unless my name is Sarah and I am married to Abraham. Question 13. What is your form of birth control? I wrote, “Old as shit.” My doctor laughed at that one.

While having my exam I learned that I have a very small uterus. Of all the small things to have. I would have preferred a small stomach.

This week I saw my internist. I got questions like, “In the last 12 months had you not had enough to eat.” Please god, can you look at me and tell the answer? To the question, “Have you had thoughts of harming anyone in the last 12 months?” Besides Trump? I asked. That answer gave me a “fully sane” rating on that questionnaire.

Today I had my annual skin check at the dermatologist. My definition of annual was a little longer than normal. Thankfully nothing much grew on me except some hereditary bumps, I blame on my mother, which they could freeze off me. Easier than getting rid of unwanted politicians. I decided I would preserve my readership numbers and not add a photo of any of those things.

After my skin check it was off to lab corp for my regular 8 tube blood draw to check me all out. At least the discussion about those results is usually a phone call so I am done for now. No more ridiculous questions. Hopefully Hippa prevents reporting me to authorities.

Back with Jan

Many of you readers have followed the journey of my dear friend Jan with her second time having breast cancer. Her first time was 34 years go, right before we met and became friends. I knew all about her first cancer, but quite frankly, as time went on, forgot she was a cancer survivor because it was just so long ago and she had been healthy with regular mammograms all those years.

Then this spring she got the news no one wants. The cancer was back. She jumped into action and had surgery and started a chemo protocol. Since she had radiation the first time that was off the table.

Jan is the most positive person. She is also smart. She does her research and follows orders well. She also accepted help, prayers, gifts and positive words of affirmation.

Popular would not cover the description of how many friends around the world Jan has. So many people brought her meals, sent her gift, cards and treats. If you did and did not get a thank you note, know that she has too many to write, but I know she appreciated everything.

She has successfully finished all her treatments and now is just waiting for hair to start to grow back so she no longer looks like a cancer patient.

Today we went to lunch to celebrate the end of this journey. Of course there will be drugs to take for years, and follow ups and maybe some body art next year to decorate her new flat chest. I probably will not forget she has now had cancer twice, but other than her hat, not much about her makes me think of cancer as she is still the happy Jan I have always known.

I want to thank those of you who responded so generously when I sent meal train requests. It was hard for me to be up north during the last six weeks of the hardest part of chemo, but with so many friends looking out for Jan I knew she was in good hands.

I wish everyone had a Jan in their lives to shine the light of positivity on things. We talked today about difficult journeys people have to walk and how it can be hard to be positive for others when you don’t feel like it. That was not the case for her, but I take that sentiment to heart as so many other friends are also walking hard journeys. I don’t want anyone to feel that you can’t share the hard parts when you feel them.

Now with Hurricane Helene devastating a quarter of North Carolina Counties it is going to be hard for people to keep a positive outlook when everyone is affected. I encourage anyone who has a loved one or acquaintance there just to lend them a listening ear so they can let out some sorrow. I know people who lose everything feel the need to say, “but we still have our lives,” or “we are still all together,” but it’s OK to be sad for the loss of the lifestyle you had and there will still be hard days ahead.

I know from being 30+ friends with Jan a positive attitude is not something you can fake. Some people have them in abundance and some people work to have it and some just never will. Support all of them because they all need support.

Happy Birthday Russ

It’s Russ’ big day. He finally came into the sixth decade, joining me a few years after I did. As with a Wednesday birthday we both worked. He had a big team meeting at work so they celebrated him. It was also a very important new team member Estelle’s birthday and her second day at the company. We are so happy to welcome Estelle as she is Carter’s best Northeastern friend, who we adore.

I got home from Rocky Mount and picked Shay up so we could all be together to celebrate Russ. He opened his presents. carter had sent a wonderful T-shirt that Russ said he is going to wear when he goes to vote. It is so great to be married to a proud feminist.

It’s a good thing since he has a strong wife, a powerful daughter and a girl dog who has him wrapped around her little paw. It’s just nice to be together.

We will do more 60th celebrating as the days go on. Russ deserves a year of celebrating.

Angel in the Sky

During my break between my afternoon and evening classes I ran out to do an errand. Again, like yesterday, the sky grew dark to a scary degree. Then suddenly the clouds broke apart and the sun burst forth into what looked like an angel.

Thankfully there was no tornado, but I did get drenched when I came out of a store. I am not complaining when whole swaths of my state are suffering with no power, cell service, no roads, no gas, no way to get out. Please send all those people affected by Helene a big angel.

As for me I’m tired as can be now and will back with you tomorrow.