Friday, August 7, 2026

     Supposedly there is a picture on facebook of me with my brother.  I dare to disagree because the picture I have of myself in my own mind, is quite different, much more serious and smart looking, and maybe a bit thinner and younger. Who is this grinning old woman who is having such a good time at Denny’s with her wonderful brother.

     In the afternoon I get a chance to impress the golfer’s grandson with stories of our Irish ancestors. I particularly like the lurid tales from California’s gold rush years. Are they true stories? Maybe. I heard them from my older family members.  On his cell phone, the kid traces a 1950’s photo of a group of men. Facial recognition apt. Yep there is his great great grandfather, part of the gold rush family.

    Now there are 6 blooming sunflowers and dozens of tomatoes. My roommate harvests a variety of lettuces from the salad patch. The sun comes out in the afternoon warming up the house.  It is a two nap day.

     We are too busy to watch much TV. But I do sneak in half an episode of THE LAST SHIP, an older series reminding me of the cold war era shows.  War and peace, heroes and villains. Today’s political news has passed me by.

 

Thursday, August 6, 2026

     For the last five years I am dealing with incontinent supplies. My life changes after my first of six surgeries, 5 years ago. The doctors and nurses say they can’t help. If they could cure it they would try, but maintenance, you are on your own. No billing code for incontinence support. I am permanently damaged.

     The large awkward cardboard boxes from Amazon arrive several times a month. And they are expensive. Nope, Medicare doesn’t pay. Hundreds of dollars every month.  Day and night I am aware of my bladder. My goal is to just accept this is my life now. I am alive and the cancer is inactive for now. 

     The fog evaporates by noon and the sun warms the deck.  Still, some breezes in the trees. One more sunflower blooming, a short plant with a small flower. But the tomatoes don’t know when to slow down as they fill the yard with gold and red small fruit. I can only eat so many tomatoes a day. The roommate cooks chocolate chip cookies. In the afternoon.

     The golfer and his grandson are here for a short visit. This morning, we are having breakfast at Denny’s, yea, my favorite place. And the young poet unexpectedly shows up in the evening. We don’t watch much tv. I am reading UNSTABLE, A LIFE IN WRITING by Michael Cunningham. A combination memoir and stories of what makes good writing.

 

Wednesday, August 5, 2026

     I am struck with this urge to buy something, anything.  I start moving through images on Amazon.  Maybe a stadium blanket. Not that I don’t have many throws already but I could use one that is shorter and fits me in my recliner during these cold mornings.  I check out dozens and finally just leave the site.  Instead I email a friend.  Really I just want a conversation with a friend.

     Later in the day between watching grim national news and waiting for the house cleaners to arrive, I am back on the computer looking at stadium blankets. And I buy one quickly before I change my mind. Anything to release that grip of desire.

     A friend comes by in the morning and we sit in the living room to talk together. Nothing special, warm friendly words and smiles. Later another friend drops off a sweet desert for us, and also chocolate donuts. The sun comes out by noon and the doors are opened again. The house is cleaned, I nap and life goes on. I wonder if I will ever recover enough to have a life outside the house.

     I finished reading THE SECRET SHARERS and start on Michael Cunningham’s new book UNSAYABLE, A LIFE IN WRITING. This book is better than I expected. In the evening, I watch half an episode of netflix new medical comedy BEST MEDICINE, similar to Doc Martin. Undecided on further viewing. We watch one more episode of THE CAPTURE, a tense mystery story. It is strange and maybe pathetic how important tv shows are to me now.