Sunday, July 12, 2026

     I sit with my friend on a bench at the local park. An old friend. We worked together as social workers, chaplains and then in building resources for homeless women. We are both old now and talk about our current struggles. Sitting in the sun, children playing in the park, dogs with their owners. We talk about hardships and joys. I continue to adjust to old age.

     I take naps in the living room on a comfortable old hand me down couch. People come and go. I am burrow under the blue down blanket. I sleep better with people around.

    The tall man says good by.  He is beginning his long hike in Europe. He uses the roommate’s clippers to cut the pepper tree branches blocking the front entrance. My roommate is working on the back yard farm. The weather is changing, different clouds and air. Maybe a storm is coming.

     We watch the new documentary THE MAN MUST BURN, on HBO.  The story of the Burning Man festival in the desert. I knew about it when I was younger, but didn’t attend. Many of my friends loved it. This series focuses on the Covid epidemic times. I start reading a memoir by Carolyn Larkin Taylor, M.D. WHISPERS OF THE MIND, a neurologist’s memoir. I am learning more about brain conditions and medicines. Political news is quiet today, just the usual bombing and war, and lies and corruption, and endless ICE violence.

 

 Saturday, July 11, 2026

     I curse at this young man who wants me to drive my car into the dark basement garage. I am picking up my friend from a medical appointment. My eyes are too slow to shift to safely see in the dark. He is embarrassed and says this is his boss’s new rule. I turn my car around awkwardly to sit in the driveway outside of the dark garage. There is street paring available.

     Later I worry about the cursing. Mostly I am embarrassed by being old and damaged. I pretend to be competent and normal. And maybe I am normal for an old woman. Maybe it is ok to yell sometimes. but it feels like I am losing it. I just can’t make my eyes adjust faster in the dark.

     The fog breaks open for a couple of hours of sunshine in the afternoon. Every where I look, flowers are blooming. We eat some of the first tomatoes. My roommate has planted watermelon seeds that will grow in our cold foggy climate.

     I am reading a memoir, GHOST STORIES by Siri Hustvedt about her grief around her husband’s cancer death. Of course it is well written. Another step in becoming familiar with the details of dying. In the evening, we watch two episodes of season two of BEEF, I find the story too angry and too violent. I prefer the controlled fierceness and drama in detective stories.  Nothing new to say about the president’s confusing war with Iran. So scary.

 

Friday, July 10, 2026

     I give up on the novel BLACK BAG.  I’m a third of the way through the book and realize I don’t like any of the characters, mostly young sad inebriated men. This is not the book for me.  I did read the last couple of pages, maybe a resolution, but nope. Yep, my life is enlivened by the stories I read.  Characters, ideas, activities in each book.

     Thursday is a slow day, a recovery day from my activities of the week.  I fold laundry, do dishes, clean up my room, set out my medical supplies in the bathroom.  I am ready to engage again in this world we live in. I am still alive after five years of aggressive cancer treatments.  It’s not over but I now better understand the process of medical care.

    The new potato patch is up and planted. My farmer roommate has created a gopher safe planting bed for those spouting old potatoes in our kitchen. I thank her on behalf of all the old potatoes in our life. Soon we will have home grown potatoes and the gophers will have to find something else to eat.

     We watch more episodes of SUGAR in the evening. A strange show with an alien detective who is kind and good looking. The plot is opaque. Periodically I think, oh this is what it is about. We also watch monologues on the daily show for some laughter. What would these comedians do without the wars and crazy rants of our president. Better to laugh then to cry.