Let there be light

I hauled something like 15 strings of Christmas lights -- the regular (not LED) kind -- from my garage loft.  Every year I throw away one or two strings that stopped working, so theoretically all the ones I unpack should be functional. Two strings just wouldn't light -- checked them for broken or missing bulbs, then chucked them. Then un-chucked them so I could cannibalize the bulbs that might or might not still be good in case I came across any dead bulbs on the good strings. It's hell sometimes to be frugal. Then three strings turned out to be "half-dead" -- I did find a broken bulb or two, but even replacing these didn't get the whole thing working. I know there's something about a fuse, but ... it's far more maddening to have something half-working than totally worthless. 

So- eight strings left. I decided to use two strings of whites and three strings of multis on the tree. The two white strings vanished. (I put them in  a good place after I tested them out, but where could that good place be?) and since in my compulsive way I have to put the white lights on first, I'm stuck now. I won't go out and spend good money on new lights when I know there are some perfectly good ones hiding somewhere. My grandfather used to talk about a "bottomless pit" where missing objects go. Most times stuff reappears just as mysteriously as it disappeared, but not always. Sometimes my brain seems to be like those faulty strings of lights -- both ends glow but there are gaps in the middle where something has come loose. Unfortunately I don't have the option of purchasing a new string of neurons.

Long time no blog

Thanksgiving Thoughts
1. I'm thankful that I was able to spend time with my boys and Matt's new "family" (in-laws-to-be?)
2. I'd grateful I didn't have to cook anything, and I didn't eat too much!
3. I'm newly aware and very thankful that my kids have grown up to be fine young men, the kind I would have loved to date when I was their age!)
4. I'm so thankful that I am able to see my best friends for breakfast once a week, even if the only nearby restaurant is Denny's.
5. I'm very grateful I was able to reconnect with my Ohio brother and most of my cousins during my recent trip. Thanks for welcoming me!
6. I'm thankful that my Jenny Craig counselor is so unfailingly encouraging, even when  I have "strayed."
7. I'm thankful that my personal trainer doesn't laugh when I try to do a squat while holding weights.
8. I'm thankful that my kids live near enough to see whenever I want to, but not so near I see them more than I want to!
9. I'm thankful that my car runs reliably, even if it is a bit dented.
10. I'm thankful that Greg left me well enough off, despite the economy, that I can continue to live alone in my house and don't have to move to an apartment or rent out rooms!
11. I'm grateful that I can substitute teach when I want to and say no when I want to.
12. I'm filled with gratitude and endorphins that I don't need to take anti-depressants anymore.
13. I'm grateful for the water aerobics classes in Milpitas I've been going to for more than 3 years now -- and that I haven't injured myself!
14. I'm grateful that the average age I feel is approximately my own age -- some days I feel 33 and some days I feel 99!
15. I'm grateful for good (and interesting) dreams lately, including paddling a rubber raft through a fleet of battleships.

birthday blogs

I haven't written anything in here for awhile, not exactly sure why. I had a nice birthday, though. Went to Pescadero and the beach with Jeff, Matt, Veda/Noelle & her kids. It was fresh and cool and not crowded. I baked a funny-looking cake, and Matt & Co. made cookies. On Monday, Marylin took me out to dinner at Fresh Choice, and on Tuesday "the girls"  had game night at Marylin's, playing Apples to Apples. It was probably 100* outside, and my gifts were warm blankies and flannel sheets!

Six years ago, when I turned 60, I had my "breakdown" and ended up in the hospital. Partly it was because I had not fulfilled my high expectations of taking control of various segments of my life, but mostly, as I see now, because of helplessness over Greg's situation. I can't find my wish list of things I wanted to change then, but I think most of them have changed, or else I discovered they don't matter. The past is past.

I'm awaiting my first Social Security check. I'm planning a trip to Toledo to see my brother Bill. I'm planting spring bulbs -- that's enough future for me.

Mission accomplished -- almost

The house is painted and I love the colors -- Coconut Cream Pie with Persimmon and Cape Royale. The unexpected rain (or something) made some of the paint on the trim bubble, so that has to be taken care of, and I have to restore my decorative items. I had the shutters removed and am thinking of putting sunbursts or planters with trellises in their place, and I'd like a new porchlight, and of course now I have no excuse not to tackle the landscaping. It's endless, isn't it -- home ownership? Beats the alternatives, though.

Overload

I'm in the middle of getting my house painted -- all the doors and windows are sealed shut by masking tape; the fumes inside and out are starting to affect my eyes and mind; the cats have disappeared except for plaintive cries from bushes just over the fence; noises of people clomping around on my roof, paint spray compressors and power washers and Spanish conversation and the doorbell ringing every five minutes with a question from the foreman -- do I want this piece of wood thrown away? Is Coconut Cream Pie really the color I want the main stucco painted? This wood trim appears to have termite damage, could I call the guy to get an estimate of the replacement cost? I would leave the house except when I do other stuff happens like mysterious loads of wood get delivered. Somehow somebody wrote down the wrong phone numbers for my home and cell, and so all appearances from workmen are a surprise. And yes, I have corrected this numerous times, I thought.

Meanwhile, I tried to upload my photos from my iPhone onto my computer, and was rewarded with two dozen anime porn photos (from the cloud, I presume) appearing and all my own photos vanishing, along with all my iPhone contacts and most of my apps. Jeffrey may have figured out what happened, but we haven't figured out how to retrieve the missing goodies.

My brother finally left for Arkansas, and I'm all weepy about that, plus I have various stuff I couldn't bear to have him throw away, his old dryer, some furniture, crafts supplies up the yin-yang, heaped in my garage waiting for time and energy to arrange. School has started, and since one of the teachers unexpectedly quit, I'm subbing for a week or two until they hire a new one (not me) and I'm taking care of not-quite-step-grandkids now and then and again....

I think I've hit overload. I can handle it, as long as I am able to step back once in awhile, observe
and laugh. And maybe remember how to spell "No".

Kids

Watching my son's sweetie's kids lately. What I had almost forgotten about kids:

• the amount of energy they can pack into teeny bodies. Jumping up to throw basketballs, racing around chasing other kids, climbing up giant slides, bouncing on furniture. And the physical and mental energy I need to keep up with them!
• the way they notice everything -- the different colors and shapes of ducks, the multitudinous activities of ground squirrels (the biggest attraction for kids of all ages the other day was a dead squirrel), the mini-world of bugs. I have been recapturing some of this "noticing" when I go for camera walks, but they're so much better at it!
• their non-stop imaginations. A running dialog speaking from the ducks' points of view, imaginary weapons and aliens, "the floor is lava, we can't touch it." Shoots me right back to my own grade school summers of cloud-shadow fairies and living in the worlds of children's literature.
• the speed with which they can duck out of sight, behind a rock, a bush, another kid. That instant parental panic until they're spotted again. I'd relaxed since my boys got big and lived independently. It all comes back in the blink of an eye. No blinking allowed!
• the seemingly limitless capacity for mastering the details of games. For me, any game (any thing!) that has a set of instructions more than a page long seems hopelessly complex, but for them, particularly with some experience under their belts, it all makes perfect sense and they can nudge me along.

My pixelated life

So my iMac has an option for the screen saver to display my photos as pixelated images -- you know the kind where a photo is graded by its dominant color and then those colors are used to pixelate another image, in this case other photos. They cycle around, and pixelation resolving into a single image, then that image shrinking and becoming a pixel in another image, on and on.  Every time I load new photos onto my computer they enter into the rota. 

It's fascinating and a bit freaky. I could sit and watch it for hours.  The picture I took of a department store window in Honolulu last month becomes part of a Santa hat. The purple eggplants at the Farmer's market fuse into the Easter flowers at Tesco in Leicester two years ago. The blue Pacific becomes the blue of Jeffrey's shirt when he was little. Sometimes I forget it's there, and I am surprised to look up and see Greg smiling from his 60th birthday party, or Cauchy napping next to the Christmas creche, or students from my old afternoon class. The randomness seems to parallel the randomness of my memories ambushing me -- provoking sudden giggles or tears.

I'm planning to do a major scanning of old photos (when I get a scanner that works and figure out how to use it) and I wonder what it will be like to have all those images from before the digital age enter into the pattern: Black and whites and old polaroids and some of those really old sepia tones.
It's my life, pixelated:  all the little bits focusing and unfocusing, blending to make a pattern; the meaning is all in my head.

Volcanoes

I've always been fascinated by volcanoes: I remember a Life magazine spread on Pompeii from when I was in grade school. There was a story about Yellowstone Park in my second or third grade reader -- the only time I actually went there was while moving to CA with my leg in a cast, so didn't do too much exploring. I remember reading about the way the Krakatoa eruption changed the world's weather for years. Mt. St. Helens happened shortly after I moved to California -- we went to see it 20 years later. Loved camping at Lassen.

I really wanted to see Kilauea in eruption, so we scheduled a trip to the Big Island. Expensive! Saw (and smelled) steam vents, looked out over craters, walked through lava tubes, climbed around on old lava fields, admired lava tree molds, went swimming where a thermal vent under the sea had formed a hot pond. Nothing spectacular, but then these things can't be planned for, really. I guess I'll have to watch National Geographic Specials until I get another chance.

Through the Lava Tube

Lava Tree mold

1970's lava field

Steam coming out of Kilauea Crater

Free Lunch?

We hadn't heard from our car rental company before we left for Hawaii, but when we only had two days left, we found out all the major companies' cars were reserved. What to do? 

We'd seen hucksters on the street corners touting $10 day car rentals, and we figured so what if we have to rent a wreck? Worth a try. That's how we met Kevin, who spent the next 20 minutes persuading us to sign up for a 90 minute "presentation" about a travel website in return for said $10 rental car. Yes there are new cars available today, he said, and from Thrifty, no less. Plus++++we were eligible for a $50.00 gift certificate to Top of Waikiki revolving restaurant (which we'd snuck into the day before and knew $50 would get us one meal, at least). Plus++++we could take home a CASE of chocolate macademia nuts (he'd evidently figured us for chocoholics, or nut nuts). Smelled like a time-share salesjob to me. Oh no, it was absolutely not a time-share, and the 90 minutes would start the minute we got there. Absolutely no commitment to buy anything or join anything. Nobody would check to see that we did have the qualifying income. Oh, Marylin wasn't a US citizen, then it would have to be under my name.

We figured the car alone was worth 90 minutes of our time, so signed up. Well, of course it was a time-share by some other name (Look, I've forgotten already!). I'd made Marylin promise to stop me if I squeezed her hand and seemed to be giving in to the sales pitch, which I did several times. The presentation was very entertaining, the sales reps were charming and friendly, but who wants to stay in 4 star resorts all the time? (I know, lots of people, but not us) and the deals kept getting sweeter and sweeter and more and more "affordable". Squeeze that hand! Of the dozen or so other people who were there at the same time, three or four couples purportedly signed on the dotted line. 

We finally escaped with our credit cards un-maxed, and went to the "prize desk" to claim our car. That's where we found out out that there were no compact cars left, but we could upgrade to a Jeep for $50 more and by the way said Jeep was waiting for us at the airport! We chose to trade our case of macademia nuts for the upgrade and persuaded them to give us a free 40 minute ride to the airport.

So 90minutes +++++ 3 hours later we were off to explore the non-Honolulu part of Oahu! p.s. We got pupus and happy hour drinks on the revolving restaurant gift certificate +++++ $20.

Shopping in Hawaii

Shopping in Hawaii: This year we started with the Swap Meet! After an hour-and-fifteen minute bus ride (56 stops!) we spent two hours trying to collect all the souvenirs we wanted to buy. It was hot. There was very little food or drink. Everything tended to look alike after awhile. Careful examination was necessary to find the things made in Hawaii, not China. I bought Red Dirt t-shirts for Matt, Veda and the kids, a sarong for me, a silver ring with sea turtles and a plumeria blossom, a Hawaiian quilt turtle pillow cover. I should have bought Hawaiian print reversible tote bags, because I never saw them anywhere else. Marylin bought silver jewelry for her kids. We took the $5 shuttle back to the hotel instead of The Bus.

Fabric Stores: we went to two -- the variety of Hawaiian prints and Japanese fabrics was incredible. I bought a few bits to use on my cards. I was looking for a miniature version of the sarong prints -- didn't find any. Big Island: Just about everything in the art museum/shop at Hawaiian Volcanoes National Park was out of my price range, but I did get a calendar. I could have dropped a fortune at the Orchid Nursery, but only bought one plumeria stalk thingy, which I hope will grow for me. The airport shop in Hilo was uncharacteristically cheap, so we indulged in more earrings!  Waikiki has every imaginable high-end retailer, from Ferrari to Prada, but only the cookie and candy places offered free samples! Art Gallery near our hotel offered Artists in Residence every evening -- fascinating to meet the people behind the paintings, sculptures, etc. I bought a cheaper but not knock-of version of a jellyfish in glass sculpture, and some note cards, at the hotel store, and a gorgeous locally designed t-shirt.

ABC Stores: the go-to place on Waikiki. They're only allowed there, there is one literally on every block, and they have no real competition. We bought an underwater camera (still haven't developed the pictures from last years underwater film), breakfast goodies on alternative days, liquor and soft drinks to supplement the $12 Moana Terrace cocktails, tote bags, chocolate macademia nuts and coconut M&M's, a few items of jewelry and a t-shirt we should have gotten at the swap meet. 

Next time: Shop for swimsuits, more museum shops, a farmer's market (we saw them advertised, but never caught up with one), more organized visit to the Swap Meet.

Food Adventures

I am not an adventuresome eater. When I was a little kid traveling with my grandparents, all I would eat was hamburgers and chicken. I remember meeting avocados and shrimp and bean sprouts for the first time on a trip to CA with my grandmother when I was ten, not available in Ohio in those days. My mom overcooked everything -- I didn't rediscover fresh vegetables and non-fried fish until I was in graduate school! My grandmother was all all about "new taste thrills" which involved getting chocolate covered ants and canned kangaroo meat as Christmas gifts. I have a great fear of getting sick to my stomach. I remember od'ing on bing cherries once, and after literally seeing them come out my nose, not eating them for a decade.

On my trip to Hawaii I decided to maintain a balance between health, indulgence, and adventure. I wanted to maintain my weight, enjoy my vacation, and try a few new things.  Here's the list of things I tried: Poke (evidently a raw-fish salsa-appetizer thingy), lilikai mango frozen popsicle, Thai chicken curry (curry just means in sauce -- they served the inflammatory spice on the side), Thai iced tea with coconut milk, green papaya (or was it mango?) salad, barbecued shrimp from a shrimp truck, lychee sorbet. OK, not all that adventurous, but I didn't gain an ounce, I never went hungry, and I didn't get sick!

Hula Pie -- after you eat one of these, you don't want to even think about doing the hula!

Prejudice

The Singer: Sitting on the veranda in the evening listening to the singer at the piano in the lobby of the hotel -- her voice was good, a bit unusual, singing standards and the odd Hawaiian tune. Formed a picture of her in my mind: perhaps a tall young Hawaiian girl. When we went in, saw a short rather unattractive person seated at the piano, crew cut and beard. Unisex clothes. We couldn't tell if it was a man or woman. The voice was clearly (?) female. Bearded lady? Someone in transition? Definitely not the picture in my brain. Couldn't get the new picture out of my brain!

The Pirate & the Barkeep: On the Big Island, trying to cram new experiences into the last hour of our visit (more about this later) we went to a kava bar. I'd read about kava, a mild intoxicant favored by Pacific islanders, so decided to venture one glass, er, coconut shell. The Bartender looked like he had long experience of global intoxicants, but was a friend of our host, so more or less trusted him. The story he told us of the ritual of drinking kava, all about bonding with friends, contrasted totally with he story we were later told about kava symbolizing the subservience of women, having to be administered by a virgin, choosing a bride, etc. The drink tasted rather nasty, and turned my mouth numb, and (I'm told) made me slightly giggly, but no other ill effects. The Pirate walked into the bar (This is not the beginning of a joke). I'll try to get the photo of him from our friends. He had quite a snazzy and reputedly home-made leather pirate hat, flowing sleeves, vest, the requisite whiskers, and a friendly flirtacious manner.  Appeared to have all his limbs intact. No parrot! We weren't missing any wallets when we left.

The Ukelele Player on The Bus: We took the bus from the airport after we returned our rental car to save money after being ripped off by Disney (another story). Mostly friendly people on the bus, many tourists, many locals. This guy had a toy uke, wore scrubs,  and displayed the uninhibited manner of a mental patient off his meds. He tried to engage everyone in conversation and entertained (?) us with renditions of popular songs with  the words changed to scurrilous versions, sometimes funny, sometimes embarrassing. He bragged of having done every drug there was, claimed to be a veteran, had opinions on everything that reminded me of an internet webite devoted to  conspiracy theories. Much eye-rolling by fellow riders. Great relief when he finally got off before our stop. The bus driver said he was a regular, one of the harmless ones. Actually we didn't see many homeless on Waikiki -- I wonder why?!

We stayed at the same hotel as last year, but it was a rather different experience. We were spoiled because last year's room was on the corner near the top of the old wing, and we had a full view in both directions, unblocked by any other buildings. This year we were in a "partial ocean view" which basically means you had to lean off your balcony to see the ocean. We also could see the city, which was quite lovely, also noisy, and had a extensive view of approximately 200 balconies on the next hotel some of which we would rather have not seen! Not to mention they could see us, too.

telephoto of dawn beach

The view toward the beach (upper right corner)

We were supposed to get an upgrade but we were so eager to jump into the sea that we couldn't wait, took what they offered, 15th floor, lone king-sized bed and all, and got a rollaway added. It was very comfortable, despite longish waits for the elevator, frustrating t.v. remote control,  and occasionally less than helpful desk staff. We only ate one dinner and one breakfast at the hotel -- the a la carte menu made us feel financially challenged ($40 for a steak, $12 for added green beans, $10 for a potato, $3 for mustard!), but we did enjoy quite a few equally expensive drinks and appetizers on the terrace after swimming, at least until we discovered Happy Hours at other hotels and restaurants nearby!

the view from the rockers

Our second favorite outdoor spot was on the rockers on the porch facing Kalakaua Street. We could watch all the Japanese brides get into their limosenes, eat takeaway breakfast from the ABC store, and check out the passing surfers and shoppers, and of, course, wait for our shuttles to arrive. This is the only place we saw that offered rockers!

We checked out other hotel rooms, and may look nearby next year. It's a real tradeoff -- we could stay longer if we were wiling to walk (or lean out) farther!

The Moana is the middle tower, directly across form the farther moored boat, but our room is obscured by the next hotel. This was taken from the top of the Sheraton, three hotels down.

"Our" beach

Hawaii collage

 Back from our trip to Hawaii and playing with some of the photos. I don't know which format to use yet or how to get the shots from my iPhone onto the computer.

In: decision

The day I put Greg in the care home I decided to get a new bed. That was more than three years ago. A couple of springs were sticking up through the mattress cover, and the less said about stains, the better. I switched over to the inflatable guest bed--quite comfortable, actually, but the cats didn't care for it, and I didn't really trust their claws near it. On really sleepless nights, I sacked out in the recliner. I read articles on the internet about mattress-buying tips, I tested out mattresses at Macy's, and I watched the ads. But I just couldn't make the actual decision. Did I want another queen-sized bed, even though I had been sleeping in less than half of it? A full-sized bed? A twin? Firm, plush, pillow-topped, innerspring, foam, temperpedic? Prices varied by a factor of ten. Too much choice and a sense that I had to make the perfect choice completely paralyzed me. Then one day (today in fact) I decided to decide and live with the decision for awhile, but change my mind if it turned out to be the wrong choice. What a concept! My new bed will be delivered Wednesday. They'll haul the old one away. That's what I really wanted!

I went to see the new movie People Like Us, with some apprehension, since I knew it was about a death in the family and secrets revealed. I started out disliking most of the characters, but ended up being quite touched. I read it was based on the life of the writer/producer. I also just finished reading Sarah's Key, also about family secrets and things people would like to forget. It made me wonder what a movie about my own family's secrets might be like: mental illness? bigamy? (see my June 10 blog). What actors would play my great-grandparents? Of course it would depend on what the real story was!

Grudges

I was talking a couple of my closest friends the other day and the topic of grudges came up. I have a couple of them I just can't seem to let go of, and I need to figure out why and wherefore and how to neutralize them. One is against Greg's former church whose name I shall not mention here, but you know who you are! Greg was an atheist, but he loved church music and gave many hours of his life to church choirs and also composed music that was performed in church. He sang as long as he could coax his voice out, and didn't let the Parkinson's tremors stop him. He had what we considered to be friends in the choir, some of whom came over frequently to play ping-pong with him. Our kids went to Sunday School there and Matt's Boy Scout Troop met there and did his Eagle project there. After Greg was unable to sing in the choir, he was too sad to attend church. I ran into one of the church stalwarts after Greg had to go into a care facility, so I know they knew he was there. I know it is very difficult to see a person in a dementia-care place. But no one, not even the minister or deacon ever even offered to visit him there.  When I called the church to tell them of his death, I was asked if I wanted a funeral service there, and when I said no, was reminded that he wasn't really a member anyway. One couple came to the memorial I held at my home (announced in the newspaper). Not a single word or note from a single other person there. It makes me cry to even write this. I don't know what causes all this emotion. I guess it is expectations unmet. Maybe there is some guilt that I didn't reach out. I hear about other people's churches who are caring and supportive, and I just feel bad! I don't want to feel this way anymore.  (Grudge #2 in an upcoming blog, perhaps.)

Rock stars

Pescadero State Beach with Donna. This is one of a my favorite places. In my past experience there have been whale carcasses, multicolored starfish, immense anemones, fleets of pelicans, sea lions. Today's feature was mainly rocks. A few mussel shells, a lot of seaweed, but the rocks were stars! Round rocks of a thousand colors, making rollicking rocky noises as the waves washed in and out. Rocks with streaks, stripes, inclusions, holes, even designs that looked like petroglyphs. Sizes from cherries to canteloupes -- the pea-sized pebbles evidently end up a couple of beaches south.  Very few of the rocks matched the sandstone cliffs, so most of them must have journeyed from faraway places to get here, and gotten all their harsh edges smoothed off. Some of them were wedged into cracks and hollows of the square shore stone -- imagine the waves that lifted them! Between them the sand was superfine. If I'd had a microscope I'd probably have seen miniature round rocks. A few rocks rode home with us. For some reason most of the ones selected looked like something else -- a heart, a piece of wood, a sculpture, an eye. I've never been able to remember the names of many minerals or types of rock, but I know what I like!

Long time no blog

I've been waiting for a topic to present itself to my brain, but my thoughts seem kind of disconnected, so I guess I'll list them instead of expounding on them:

• Getting ready to go to Hawaii next month. I'm looking forward to seeing the volcano and lazing around in the sea. Last year I wanted to try all the touristy things: leis, luaus, Polynesian culture. This year I just want to explore the beaches. I don't even need to shop, although when I get there I may change my mind!
• My brother Steve is seriously considering moving to Arkansas. While I want him to be happy in a place with many friends and a more reasonable cost of living, and I don't really see him that often even though he lives less than ten miles away, I will miss having him and his wife drop-in-on-able.
• Meanwhile, son Matt has moved 30 miles closer, but I don't want to encroach on his new life with Veda and her kids. It's wonderful to see him so happy in his new role, but not sure I'm ready to be an almost-step-grandma.
• My former boss is leaving adult ed. I wonder if I'll get any sub or testing work next year. It's nice to see all my old colleagues (the ones that are still there) but if I really don't need all my old books and files anymore I should be able to get rid of a lot of stuff! But I probably won't.
• I test-rode an adult tricycle today. It felt kind of weird not to have to balance. Of course balance is something I'm not particularly good at, which is why I was trying it out in the first place. I may attempt to rent one before I buy -- maybe in Hawaii!
• It's really all about getting older, isn't it?