Little Artist

Today I played with my childhood crayons for the last time. I know what you're thinking -- it's crazy that a person my age still has their childhood crayons. But when I emptied my mom's house I assumed that this pungent and evocative box of crayons would be something that everyone would want, so I saved them. I miscalculated by a longshot. Even I don't want them, but their power to plunge me into childhood is so awful and strong that I haven't been able to break the spell. Like the objects in the series Woke, this box of crayons taunts me from a shelf in the garage.

I decided that this is the day and that the only way I could divest of the crayons and keep the box was to pour them all out and review as a farewell. Ever the archivist.

What I learned:

• Crayola were considered the boss crayons for a reason.
• If you asked me in advance "What's your least favorite color of Crayola crayon?" the answer would have been Goldenrod. This is a) still true and b) you can tell that it was always the case because some of the longest crayons were Goldenrod, and there were a lot of them.
• Maize looks so much like Goldenrod that I question its purpose. 
• I remembered correctly that most of the crayons in the ancestral box were a non-Crayola brand that had little color to offer. Blech.
• I did not recall that one brand of crayon was called "Little Artist', a name that I find sooooper patronizing.
• Guitar brand oil pastels are every bit as pleasing to use as I recall. They glide across paper in the most fluid and satisfying way.
• The Time Magazine pencil would have come from the inside of the magazine itself, I'm guessing. But we didn't subscribe to news magazines, so I'm not sure how it got in my crayon box.
• The name Prang, by Crayonex, gets points just for existing. But this solo, sturdy example in green was a nice crayon with lots of pigment to offer.

That's it. Bye crayons!

I Would Wear This

Yes I would.

Merry Christmas To Those Who Partake

A condensed version of a Facebook exchange with a beloved cousin from Texas who was lamenting her lack of Christmas decorating, which was a single 6" tree:

Cousin: This is the extent of my indoor decorations.

Me: What more do you need? That's kinda been the question all year.

Cousin: Isn’t that the truth? You really reassess what’s important to you. You just go from moment to moment treasuring the gems you find along the way.

Me: Or you close the front door, put down your mask and say "f*** you!", as I did this morning.

[then I deleted that comment]

Yes, today is a day of deleted comments. Like many other folks, I have been so exhausted by its many jobs, and Christmas is a day that is definitely for other people. This morning I woke up, thought it was Monday and that I was going to work, and I was sad when I realized instead that it was Christmas. Anyhoo

After going to mom's yesterday, delivering Christmas dinner, presents for the caregivers, cards for the wellness team, some groceries and a smile, I was met with a grumbling ungrateful crone who wanted to come home with me even though she knows that can't happen. Oh well. At least she didn't really want to see me for long, so I was back on my way having spent the entire day for this excellent moment with cranky mom.

Back at home, mrguy had developed a migraine, and he was in bed when I back. I made us some freezer macaroni and cheese and frozen peas. Fell asleep on the sofa, then went to bed.

This morning we planned a reset. We'd drink coffee together in the living room and enjoy our mostly tree-less view, then have pancakes I'd made with our leftover pumpkin pie filling from Thanksgiving. 

9:40: I get a call that Mom is upset and needs nephew's phone number

Then I turned off my ringer, which was a privilege I felt I'd earned

11:30, 11:32: I missed two calls and two voicemails warning me that mom wants to visit. They're on their way.

We sit down to breakfast. They pull up outside as we finish the last of our pancakes. I go out to head them off at the pass.

"Are you telling me that you're not letting us in?"

"That's right. Sorry." I laugh it off. 

"It's not funny. You may think it's funny, but I don't think it's funny. I don't have anything [by which she means COVID]."

At this point the conversation is much like every other recent one and I try to stay jovial and kind but I'm not really listening. She's ticked off and it's mainly a string of barbs and her own greatest hits of disgruntlement, delivered in a tone of voice that is intended to wound me. Her caregiver kindly told her that she'd already explained beforehand that I wasn't going to let her in my house. Mom says that she's leaving. Oh darn.

So we go back in the house and recap the fact that my mom is an endless black hole of need. True dat, mrguy!

2:10: Mom calls again, twice. I don't pick up. 

2:52: Caregiver sends me a text and asks me to call. Mom wants to apologize. We talk.

A condensed version of this morning lets me put a bright face on it for those who enjoy Christmas. Responding to their cheery holiday thread, I send the family a photo of our Covid tree and the rainy window.

"mrguy and I are in the living room, and this is our current view. Enjoying the rain, which is delightful.

Had an unexpected visit from mom this morning. She was wearing an ADORABLE new Christmas sweater from her caregiver, and they were wearing matching light up necklaces with snowfolk and teensy Christmas lights.

That’s all from here!

Hope your day is cozy."

mrguy's sleeping away the rest of his migraine next to me on the sofa, with his special boy cat asleep on his legs. It's the 30th anniversary of our first kiss. Both parts of the day are what love looks like, but this part's better.

Gentle Lamb From Alabam

My office mate bites. I'm working on changing his behavior, because I love him like crazy, and he has to come to work with me so that he doesn't bother the other cats.

I go to "night school," which is what I call watching Jackson Galaxy episodes in the evening. My office is covered with kickers, fur mice, a turbo scratcher, and our nearly-deceased iPad that can play the apps Cat Alone and Cat Alone 2.

Beastie's furniture is part of the catification of the house that I hope will give him the stimulation he craves. We've put some friends on the cat ladder so that he can take out his aggression on someone besides me.

Feast your eyes on wee beastie v. Gentle Lamb. I think that Gentle Lamb from Alabam is one of the baby toys I got from the free table at work, in the before times.

See what a pretty picture this is? So sweet.

And then there's this. He'll bite the lamb, the ladder itself...I may have mentioned that he ate the veneer off of the door in the guest bedroom?

He's a busy boy.

Home Improvements

The Mona Lisa pillow has joined the others -- the poultry feed bags I got on auction, the needlepoint pillow I got on Buy Nothing, the medical prints I got on Buy Nothing...

And now the wee beastie has his own piece of furniture, too. While I'm working either here on the sofa or at the desk on the other side of the room, the beast has an official place to go.

Again, the home office gets homier.

Mona Lisa

800 million years ago, when leathery wings smote the sky, I bought this completed Mona Lisa embroidery somewhere (flea market? estate sale?). I never did anything with it.

And then on my Buy Nothing Facebook group someone recently mentioned that they were looking for someone to finish an embroidery piece. Someone else piped up that if nobody on the group could do it that there were people on Etsy who could.

The stars aligned, I found a vendor who could take this on as a project, and the completed pillow arrived a few weeks ago. I could not be happier.

My home office keeps getting better.

Holidaze 2020

Every year mrguy and I hold down the fort for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and the mama's birthday, making sure that it all happens for Mom.

This year will be different because of the pandemic. 

Thanksgiving itself was a trial, and we got through it. That's the short version.

My oldest sis started worrying about the holidays a few months ago. Then I did, and started seeing a counselor who deals with families of elders, so I could figure out how to talk about Mom caregiving and holiday stuff with my middle sister.

I could offer more detail, here, but that would be frustrating for all. Suffice to say that the pandemic will continue, I feel like our caregivers could use days off, and I do not want to risk my own life to give it to them. In May I reached out to my sister said that caring for Mom more than we care for our own lives and happiness seems unfair and (among other things) I suggested adding a caregiver to give days off to the others. The email was brushed off, and when it came time for the holidays I was asked if I could pitch in. When I reminded her of the unanswered email of 6 months ago, and suggested that we talk to a mediator to help us through the conversation before I agreed -- well there was anger and accusations and this is one of the reasons why I don't have much of a relationship with the person who used to be the center of my belief system.

My sister asked the caregivers to work the holidays. Eventually she agreed to an additional caregiver. I will now find one. And the counseling will happen (at least once) on Wednesday.

Thanksgiving came and went. Mrguy and I made an entire turkey dinner (plus one for our caregiver to take home to her husband). Brought it to the mama, and the next day when I went to see her she said "Will we be together for Thanksgiving?" I reminded her that it was yesterday and we'd made her dinner. Oh well! Caregiver and her husband really appreciated the dinner, and that made me happy.

The good news about her forgetfulness is that she doesn't know the difference between my car and hers. Her car is gone -- I gave it to charity (and did not tell her), so I'm glad that my car fills that need for her. However as we sat on a bench outside her building the other day talking about Thanksgiving, she looked at my license plate and got an angry look on her face. Then she said "When were you going to tell me?" I thought my goose was cooked, and that she figured out I've been pretending my car was hers. Nope, she noticed the scrapes in my front bumper and was mad that I put them there. I ended up apologizing for not taking better care of her car. You gotta laugh.

OMG.

2020 Coronavirus Charlie Brown Tree(tm)

I decided to get artificial trees for Mom and I this year. 

As I was writing this I started describing all of the reasons why an artificial tree was necessary. I'm not allowed to come into Mom's apartment and set up the tree. The caregivers would have to do the setup and lights themselves...that kind of thing. As I was making excuses I realized that I actually feel deeply guilty about the tree. I feel most guilty about not wanting to take the risk of going into Home Depot to buy a real one. And because it will not be easy but easier to do it this way.

I got an artificial tree that looks "normal" for the mama, and a super Charlie Brown-ish artificial tree for us. We'll try it out this year and if she likes it, I will get her a better looking one next Christmas when she's almost 95. 

The Charlie Brown tree came a few days ago and I put it together. It's hilarious -- basically wire, brown electrical tape, green sprizzles, red "berries" and lights. I had planned to decorate it with only my most precious ornaments and the box of BABBO. But then something wonderful happened: an online estate sale that had vintage ornaments that look just like the COVID-19 virus.

Here, in all of its glory, is The 2020 Coronavirus Charlie Brown Tree(tm). I'm actually in love with it.

We'll see how Mom's goes next week.

My New Slide Viewer

This week one of the local estate sale guys had an online sale. I bought two things: some Christmas ornaments and a slide viewer that also works as a projector. This purchase is primarily for work, because viewing slides is a challenge. I have one of those slide viewers where you need to press down on the slide in order to engage the light, so one hand is always occupied. This new acquisition is a *little* bit better. It came with many slides of airplanes and airplane shows, some wedding photos, some sailing photos and the photographer was really into dahlias, so photos of dahlias. I took photos of the slides I liked, while the slide viewer was in my lap, so you get a little dining room, pajama and chair action.

Mary's wedding.

And for contrast, a wedding that took place a few years later:

The man of the home:

The lady of the home:

Dahlias:

Dahlias and arm:

And some cars:

At some point I will wipe the inside and outside of this contraption with alcohol and take it to work. 

When work ever happens at work again.

Urns

From last week:

What did you do today?

Oh, a friend's widower asked the crowd for ideas of what kind of urn to get for her.

My idea: a vintage Wedgewood jasperware biscuit jar. Think about it. They often depict women in diaphanous gowns and almost funerary broken column kinds of images. It would be perfect. My own ashes? I've told mrguy that I'd like my ashes to go in here (that is until scattering):

From this week:

What did you do today?

Jury's still out on the urn. I was not a close friend of this person, but liked her so so much. And it turns out that her friends think that she would look good in an urn that looks like Japanese gold repair Kintsugi. And it still looks like an urn and not as I imagine my friend, so I suggested something else.

Don't procrastinate on that stuff, People! Mrguy knows that when I go, I want to be scattered off a boat, with jazz playing (Bill Evans?), just as we did with the big guy. My sparkles can eventually mingle with his, and with my pop's, or at least the part of my pop that ended up in the ocean, not the part that ended up at my brother's property which eventually became a pot farm. He would have HATED that.

Maybe the lesson, here, is to arrange to have yourself cremated and entrust your ashes to a service that will hide them from your family! 

Whatever you do, make a plan. Most people don't enjoy this sort of thing as much as I do, but don't leave your people to figure it out for you or you will end up in an urn that has both kintsugi and the Pink Panther.

Kill Clouseau!

Eggxuberance

 We've been saving this egg since election day. Which turned into election week.

The Foot of Cupid

I've been looking for a good gif of the Monty Python foot, because for the last few months I've been imagining the foot crushing me closer and closer to the ground. It's a comical way to look at the amazing pile-up of events we're all having during the pandemic.

In the last two months I've watched from afar the decline and death of my favorite cousin, the new partner of an old friend (he went from diagnosis of prion disease to death in a matter of weeks), and a work colleague who did chemo for most of the last year and blogged it all.

Three cats in our circle have died. Our older boy cat is hobbled and the boisterous kitten and I live in separate parts of the house to protect the elder from the younger.

Update: I totally forgot about the stress of fires. My go-bags are still packed.

I'm grinding through a more-than-decade project at work that is grinding to a stop, yet this project still occupies many meetings and emails and much planning even in its conclusion.

The election.

My family has so much conflict over my mom and her care. Covid has only made it worse. Covid will continue. The caregivers split a 7 day week between them. I don't think they can continue to work this way. My older siblings are too frail themselves to pitch in. In May I expressed to middlesis that this was a problem, and she responded that it was Spring and she couldn't think about it after a hard winter and doing so much for the family (truth. she does so much).

So we didn't talk about it, and with the holidays coming she asked me for help. I said go to mediation with me and I'll give you my answer. I've been seeing someone who specializes in gerontology to hopefully get my sister to talk to me about this stuff. Over the summer she had said she'd go to mediation with me, and now...nope. Big sis and I got a mutual email and we're on the shit list.

The election.

Big sis has a potential large health situation, in the middle of all of this.

The election.

The election.

Layoffs. Yesterday I went to four separate meetings about layoffs. Of 22 people at the factory, 4 were in my tiny department, and two others were people I work with closely. One of them is my closest work buddy, who was hired on the same day as I was, 20 years ago. I'm devastated.

I will cope. It will get better. I coined a phrase last week about finding one thing a day that you like and love the hell out of it.

But I feel the foot right now.

 

For more on the origin of the foot, check out its Wikipedia page.

Maybe I'll just love the foot today.

Election Bunker 2020

So tomorrow is Election Bunker 2020. I will start the day by putting up my venerable "Jesse Jackson Urges You to Vote Today" poster, removed from a telephone pole in my neighborhood in 1984. Makes me so happy to share it with the people.

Then I will enjoy some working hours, trying to get the election and other things out of my mind.

And I will enjoy my pizza, which mrguy will be ordering at 3pm. Can taste those little pepperonis in my mind. When tv coverage starts, I will stop working and start thinking of the election. Hope it goes my way.

The thing I'm going to try to ignore is the current guy family strife. It's ugly and it's petty. It is super frustrating and it hurts.

So let's change the subject! The first christmas cactus are blooming. The white with magenta (estate sale find) and dark red with white stripes (Home Depot). Seasons Greetings!

Eggs

Back in the day, my mom would draw an X on a hard boiled egg so that we'd know which ones are raw and which ones are hard boiled. I have carried on the tradition in my own home until recently, when I've used them to share my disgruntlement and make mrguy laugh.

Here are a few from the lockdown and windup to the election. Which shells would you want to crack first?

Really, Birx? What do they have on you that you would stand in front of us every day and lie?

My Pillow guy gives me a cramp

In general, although there have been some bright spots.

Co-conspirators, apologists, rapists, and the guy my family believes because they think he's dreamy.

Susan Collins. The next time I hear someone on the Left getting excited about one of her whimperings I am going to punch something.

Same with Mitt. Stop crowning him with laurels when he does one thing you like. He's not your guy, and Louisville Grand Jury you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Haven't heard anything about Steven Miller in a while, and I do hope that he suffers for a long time. Dr. Conley, you are a tool of Satan. 

And other eggs to come, I'm sure, after Trump somehow manages to "win" the election. His desperation is frightening right now.

Be Careful What You Wish For

October 3. Almost every day of the past 3+ years I've woken up and reached for the laptop to see if he's dead. Often in the middle of the night I'll check the phone. At some point I stopped wanting him dead, but wanting him and lots of his people to suffer. Tuesday's presidential debate made the hate even more fervent. I still don't think that Biden will win, and feel as if our future will be catastrophic no matter the outcome.

On top of it, I have three different Caringbridge accounts that keep giving me poignant medical updates on people I care for who have health problems. Mrguy says that factoring in the base level of misery he's actually quite happy!

We had an awesome time for mrguy's birthday. I went to see the mama and then picked up dinner from a place owned by a guy I used to work with and his partner, who used to work at the forklift factory. They opened the restaurant just 18 months before the pandemic. We like giving them our support.

Due to the heat wave and wildfire smoke, we holed up with a fan and air purifier in what we're calling Man Room Theater, which is the Man Room with two chairs set up so we can watch tv. With food and wine in place we watched two episodes of Mrs Maisel, which is our "pretty place". After that was all said and done and that room had gotten so hot we had to leave, we went back upstairs.

Special birthday bonus: first the news about Hope Hicks, and then POTUS. A boy could barely have gotten a better birthday present. Unlike me, mrguy wasn't hoping for death all this time. His favorite fantasy is that the president will get COVID (so far so good!), suffer mightily, recover, lose the election, be convicted of his many crimes, go to prison, contract COVID again, and continue to suffer mightily.

Holiday From Bite

I declare this day Holiday From Bite (a riff on mrguy's Holiday From Hate).

Boy Kitten is a biter. Super orally fixated, he loves to bite things, chew things, and also mount things. We've never had a humper before, but apparently bk is a humper. Good times!

Because of the bitey bitey bitey problem, and because he may or may not have put his big brother in the hospital a few weeks ago via infected bite, I sought the counsel of a cat behaviorist. I can't continue to separate the animals for the rest of their (hopefully) long lives. 

The cat whisperer seems nice. He's covered in tattoos, some cat-related (ex: "cat's meow" across the knuckles). He works with the local animal shelter to advise them on the socialization of their cats. We zoomed our meeting.

He says that the best thing for bk would be another bk, but otherwise we need to give him more enrichment. Toys are on order. And then we need to distract him from the other cats, so that he can learn that there are other things besides humping and they can learn not to fear him. Good luck with that.

I have many cat toys on order, but in the meantime mrguy found cat apps, and he loves them. Cat Alone 2, you are awesome. bk especially loves the water drop game. You put your device on the floor and start the app. Imaginary water drips from a pipe and if the cat steps on its picture, the drop splits into droplets and makes a satisfying sound. He loves water and he loves fake water also. He licks his lips while he plays and sometimes licks his paw. He can play with this thing for an hour without getting bored. 

According to bk, however, Cat Alone 2 will never take the place of humping.

Cue The Plague of Frogs

Pandemic.

Shelter-in-place for six months.

Wildfires galore that mean you can't open the windows for weeks.

Heat wave after heat wave (without opening the windows).

My favorite cousin died on Thursday after a recurrence of leukemia. Amazingly, on Tuesday he sent me a text that just said "call" and we had one last phone conversation. Took a bereavement day on Friday.

Last night it was 101.7 in the kitchen last night and 120+ in the aku room. I watered the tomatoes 5 times, and the canna corms I've been resurrecting started the day underground and ended the day with 1/4" of growth. 

Several weeks ago, while on a toilet paper hunt for the mama at a local bodega, I passed a bottle of piña colada mixer. Impulse buy! It came in really handy last night. Why did I always think that making blended ice drinks was difficult? It is not.

Among all of the awfulness, we are not alone. Friday night cocktails with friends. Saturday evening zoom with our good friends who were good friends with our cousin after we introduced them. Sunday morning conversation with Cack and Blick. Sunday evening conversation with my cousin (youngest brother of the one who died).

In honor of my cousin, who someone described this week as "an animal of music facts", listen to some Richard Thompson and use the word fuck. 

A LOT.

Buy Nothing -- Plants

I'm loving my local Buy Nothing Facebook group. I have given and I have received.

My favorite thing is the vegetables and plants that I've gotten. One lady was giving away a huge geranium. I cut it into sections, rooted it and am nursing it back to health in various locations.

One guy was giving away green tomatoes, which led to this happy dinner last week. Fried green tomatoes were a delicious treat that my dad used to make on occasion:

Earlier this summer a man posted that he had Chinese plums, a favorite food of my childhood. We had a tree in the back yard that pumped out the fruit, and my dad and I sometimes canned them together. The flavor of stewed plums is one of those Proustian things...

The other day I posted a request -- anyone have shiso? Any color? I've been trying to grow it from seed for months, with no success. A wonderful person gave me this entire plant. I'm so excited.

And another lady yesterday posted that she wanted to give away a celery plant. That's my next acquisition. I am thrilled to have my own celery. 

Can't wait!

Updates from the Aku Room

It's been about two months since I decided to do something with the aku room. I tidied up, I put together benches on Juneteenth, while listening to Ibrahim X. Kendi in conversation with Brene Brown re: anti-racism. And slowly I've been adding:

• A set of wall pockets we bought 30 years ago
• A thermometer (it reached 120 this past week. I kept watering, but wondered if I was really just boiling the roots of my plants)
• Two benches, in order to get my plants and seeds off the floor
• Some cute little vials for starting cuttings. I've successfully started calibrachoa cuttings and will repatriate them into their original planter on the porch. I've also created new starts of our amazing perennial basil that we've had for many years. I was worrying that this would be the last year of these plants and the cuttings are now doing better than the original. We finally ate some of the basil the other day. Similarly, thyme, grocery store basil, etc.
• Geranium plants from an estate sale that were not doing well on the front porch. I replanted in happy soil, fertilized, and now I have red flowers every day. Ahhhh.
• Cannas. Also faltering where they were hanging out. Replanted in happy soil, with lots of heat and sunshine and a good drink every day, they have tripled in size. Inspired by this, I'm bring different varieties inside.

The seed report is more spotty. Early on in the pandemic I watched a lot of weird videos that made growing things from seed look magical. Bury that thing you just ate in a wet paper towel! In time-lapse you will see it grow into something that you can cut up and eat again!

Things that failed (edible and non-edible):

• Shiso (cannot get it to start from seed -- ever)
• Echium Pretii (bought for mrguy and can't get it going)
• Cineraria (darn!)

Things that are going right now:

• Garlic (what the hell, right? stick it in some happy soil)
• Cara Cara oranges (from the last orange I got at grafting day)
• Bell pepper

The big hit are my tomato plants (from seed). I have some in a big planter with happy soil. Then I got two hanging thingies and put them in them with happy soil and they are happy but not putting out flowers yet. There is one in a pot on the upper lanai that has tiny fruitses, and the biggest one from the aku room is going like gangbusters. It has been such a bright spot in my day.

Before. Milk crates, failed beet sprouting, seed experiments, my lime pickle (mrguy hates but I think it is fabulous).

Clean aku room, with tomato starts in wall pockets, thermometer above them, and my new benches.

Today. Rug, gigantoid tomato plant, hanging tomato plants. The works.

My little vials that I use for starting plants from cuttings. Currently calibrachoa (which is also blooming) and grocery store basil.

Two garlic plants, pineapple sage (from a cutting) and red morning glory plants from seed, that aren't doing as well as the ones I didn't transplant.

A friend from Japan keeps a green onion going in a glass on the windowsill in her kitchen. I thought I'd do the same. The green growth is from two days in the glass, which is pretty cool.

Herbs that have moved from the glass vials to some self-watering planters. We ate some basil the other day.