Friday, March 6, 2026

     I check the New York times online when I get up in the morning. I don’t want to miss anything significant.  Every article is serious, parts of a puzzle of weapons and people. I still don’t really understand why we are bombing in the Middle East. Maybe my mind can’t stretch wide enough to see humans as we really are. My life now centers on my peaceful neighborhood. I forget how interconnected we are to the rest of the world.

      Really, I must do something about my torn dirty sneakers I have been wearing for years, maybe decades. They are comfortable. They are deteriorating. I am afraid new shoes will trip me up. Falling is the chief danger for me at this time.

     My skin rashes have subsided now that I am taking a Claritin pill in the morning for allergies. No more sneezing, no more scratching. One tiny white pill a day, and my life is better.

      The potato patch now has garlic cloves planted. Several times a day I look for the shoots to sprout up. My roommate checks for signs of gopher intrusions. All the plant activities are still hidden in the soil. Thursday evening we watch the latest episode of THE PITT, our favorite show. We have acclimated to blood and body parts.

 

Thursday, March 5, 2026

     57 degrees in my bedroom as I eat my breakfast. But in the kitchen, it is 70 degrees as the sun warms the room. I turn on the heater for a short time and then turn it off.  I could eat my breakfast in the warm kitchen but I don’t.  I sit in my blue recliner with a warm blanket.

     Two of my favorite women friends visit during the day.  Long warm conversations. As usual I talk too much. The visits make me happy.

          Not surprisingly past events keep popping up in my mind. These loose memories pods keep floating in my mind. I remember a women’s clothing store a friend and I created for several years.  It was a huge failure. My focus was on the business, economic side and my friend did the buying and daily management. I am bad with fashion and she was terrible with money. For years after the store closed, I made monthly payments to various vendors.

     We watch another tense episode of TEHRAN.  The Newshour reports are calmer than the TEHRAN series. The devastating war is real and the dramatic show is not. I am now reading two detective stories. Ann Cleeves novel, THE KILLING STONES, set in present day Orkney Island and Amy Stewart novel, MISS KOPP’S MIDNGHT CONFESSIONS is set in World War 1 west coast America.

 

Wednesday, March 4, 2026

     I am not going to my good friend Patricia Merrifield’s memorial mass on Saturday morning.  Too many people, too long of a drive, no, no, no. I don’t want her dead. And yet, I text the tall man to come with me to the memorial. He says yes. Brings tears to my eyes. I thought I would be the first to die among my writing friends.

     Cool cloudy morning. The heater on for a short time to take off the chill. I have a short list of tasks.  The top item is to complete my income tax forms and mail them in. I suspect this will stay on my list for a long time. Each year I put it off until the last day. Perhaps I can change that pattern.

     Parts of my house continue to be invisible to me.  Cupboards and drawers filled and unopened for years. My linen shelves are packed with unused stuff. Maybe I can make a map of ignored parts of my home.

     We watch the last two episodes of LINCOLN LAWYER, Great ending. Now we will concentrate on TEHRAN unless we find something better. I am reading the third volume of Amy Stewart’s mystery series, MISS KOPP’S MIDNIGHT CONFESSIONS.   I watch the MS NOW news a couple of times a day to witness the bombs and scared people in the Middle East. It is helpful to watch various reporters and experts talk about the causes and conditions of this war.