Thursday, November 12, 2026

 

Thursday, November 12, 2026

     I wear flannel shirts every day which means that I am frequently pulling strands of hair from the fabric. Supposedly we shed about one hundred strands of hair a day.   Sometimes I notice the hair and most of the time I don’t. Where does all this loose hair go?

     I sit on the park bench and talk to an old friend Wednesday morning. We sit in the shade wearing our warm clothes. We talk about needing pockets in our clothes, about our social work former lives and life now. I love these leisurely chats as kids play on the climbing equipment and people walk their dogs.  The trees are happier after our first rain of the season.

     A flock of small birds is hanging around the neighborhood. I hope they stay for the season. We still have tomatoes in the garden, tomatoes and potatoes.

     We watch two episodes of NORTH BY NORTH, another reason to wear warm clothes. So much snow and ice, and beautiful furry jackets. A MAP OF THE FUTURE RUINS is a thoughtful painful look at the stories we create around immigrants and borders. I am waiting for the next political shoe to drop from the White house, more bombs or more ICE raids. Anything is possible and scary. We are not safe yet.

Wednesday, November 11, 2026

 

Wednesday, November 11, 2026

     Six years ago when I am 80 year old, I am diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism and sent by ambulance to Stanford hospital ICU unit. The ER doctor says I am too sick for the local hospital and I could die. I am by myself in the ambulance with three ambulance guys. I am strapped on a gurney in the back with the nurse and an unreliable IV drip. Everyone wears masks (COVID time}. The trip is long and bumpy and loud. None of my family can come with me because of the epidemic.

     Tuesday afternoon we watch the crashing waves on the rocks. We drive around and talk and then stop for ice cream at the shack shop. Driving back to Monterey through Pacific Grove and over the hill I suddenly feel panicked. I am terrified We are going to have an accident and die. Too many cars are too close, we are driving too fast, everything is dangerous. I keep my eyes closed and try to be calm.

    I now realize this is a flashback to the long ambulance ride six years ago. Of course, I scare my roommate who is driving. I scare myself. I am so grateful for her kindness while driving me home safely.

     I continue to read A MAP OF FUTURE RUINS by Lauren Markham. Her family story of immigration and borders reminds me of my grandfather’s move from Italy to Arizona. In the evening we watch Monday night’s Jon Stewart on THE DAILY SHOW. He is so clever and funny. Of course Jon Stewart’s humor is a tonic for our political times.

Tuesday, November 10, 2026

 

Tuesday, November 10, 2026

     Warm sunny days and cold mornings.  My fingers are icy this morning. I broke a drinking glass in the kitchen sink yesterday. I thought I removed all the glass from the sink, and garbage disposal.  My roommate has a small cut on her hand this morning. More work to be done.

     The Highlands baker brings a fresh loaf of bread to us. And of course lots of good conversations. Good bread.

     My roommate sits outside in the dark holding the friendly black cat. I sit inside watching the evening news. All good news for awhile as the new legislators learn the ropes. No reported ICE events yesterday in our county.

     I am now reading A MAP OF FUTURE RUINS, on Borders and Belonging by Lauren Markham. A non fiction look at the stories we tell ourselves and believe about immigrants and settlers. Challenging to read and interesting. In the evening, I watch TV by myself while my roommate is on zoom meetings. Same old TV detective stories for me. The boring president is trying out unsuccessful ways to get our attention.