Cussing.

The prompt: write about cussing. About whether or not you cuss, and when and why. About whether that has changed over time.

I grew up in a non-cussing household. As a young child I was not allowed to use the word "butt". As a teenager my dad dragged me into the bathroom and forced me to bite down on a bar of soap after he heard me softly complain with a "shit". It was really humiliating. He later joked about my "teeth of Ivory", because zingers fixed everything, in his point of view. It was the last week before I left for college, and he was struggling with the idea of losing me. He shouldn't have worried. I continued to make mistakes and offer him opportunities to shame me for years to come.

We didn't start swearing around the house until he died. And I didn't really break free with my mom until I was far beyond her grasp monetarily and emotionally. I knew swearing bothered her, so I did it. Gave me a little thrill.

Over the years, she started using an occasional cuss word herself. The first was "bitch" and I think that says a lot. Not shit. Not asshole. Not fucker. Bitch. Her strongest words were saved for female Democratic politicians that she hated. Diane Feinstein, Hillary Clinton and, most of all, Nancy Pelosi.

As her dementia kicked in, the words were released. She used all of them. It was the one of the few sources of power she had at her disposal. That and put-downs consisting of the words she still knew could hurt you. One Christmas she told me that I wanted her dead so I could go in the fields and "fuck boys". In our last conversation she threatened me without using profanities, and I was half-impressed!

By the end, my mom, who was once really proper, who was remembered as a mom who shushed you at a sleepover, had taken to using an F-bomb as often as she pleased. She often embarrassed her caregivers, who were nice church ladies, to the point at which one of them chastised her:  "Mama. We are married ladies and we know what that word means. Please do not say that word!!"

I, over time, have come to love a blend of something deeply and creatively vulgar (mostly to the amusement of my husband and friends) and the random "Poopy!!" or "Holy cow". I like the mix, just as I like wearing something I got at Goodwill alongside a piece of nice jewelry.

One final word on swearing -- I had a friend whose greatest expression of tenderness was the words "Shit, Fool". It took on various meanings, depending on her inflection. These conversations usually took place on the phone.

Me: "My boyfriend just broke up with me..."

Her, slowly: "Shit, Fool!" (tender solidarity)

or

Me: "I just got that job I wanted"

Her, brightly: "SHIT, Fool!!" (astonishment, congratulations)

Back then we were so close that she could call me "Fool", and it would warm the cockles of my heart. Not sure if that's normal. Was it too much in the "He hit me and it felt like a kiss" vein? I think the proper response was "Thank you".

Today, if she called me, I would say nothing at all.

Written on Halloween

Today was pretty great. I had to do a thing in front of the company, which I did in concert with my colleague from the archives. My walk-on music? A harp. Pretty fab.

When I came home I watched the birds vs the dodgers, and it did not go well for us so we go to Game 7.

Then the phone rang with the special ring set aside for my sisters. I assumed it was my oldest sister telling me that my brother-in-law was dead, because he has dementia and things are rough up there. But no.

It was my middle sister, the one I call The Hammer.

I have been joking rather seriously for the last few years that I would like to own a big diamond that belonged to my grandmother, who thought herself quite fancy. This was her wedding ring for marriage #2. I had it appraised a while back, and started wearing it, while tabulating the amount of money that I was spending on my mom. Starting with plane tickets in 2017 and adding all of the things that I bought for her between then and her death, her tab is in the low 5 figures.

So my mom dies and I ask my sister about the jewelry, because she'll want to let the estate attorney know about it. In the past years I've been wearing the diamond, which is hilariously large, but I know it's not really mine until after the estate settles. Or maybe that won't work out. Anyhoo, a while back my sister asks about the 1990s appraisal of the jewelry. She wants me to mail her paper copies. For some reason I didn't do it at first. It made no sense to me. I could have sent her the pdfs that day. I hate mailing things. She is afraid of taxes and of digital stuff. I don't know what she did with the appraisal. 

A few weeks ago my sister calls to tell me that she's going to tell the estate attorney about the jewelry. Either then or during that weekend's vortex of power meeting she tells me that she's going to tell the estate lawyer that I'd found the jewelry in a box of documents or something. She let me know that I had to decide what the story was because I'd be telling it. Wait. She told a lie about me and now I had to participate in that lie also? I didn't tell her at the time, but if the lawyer asked me I planned to tell the truth. My sister's lie is not my problem.

She calls tonight at 10:30 her time. We are planning to have a family meeting tomorrow morning with the lawyer. My sister has called because she wants to know if we can talk in the morning. She wants to be able to take a Xanax or whatever tonight and go to bed knowing that we can talk in the morning. I asked if we could discuss whatever it is now, because now *I* wasn't going to sleep well wondering what the topic was that she wanted to discuss. I mean really! So I coaxed her into a conversation. It was about the jewelry, and what we were going to say about it. I can't recall all of what was said but I told her that I wasn't going to lie. She tried to manipulate me by saying "You can't possibly know how much I'm doing for the family" etc. I do know this, but the fact that she lied about whether my family had jewelry as part of the estate and now she wants to come clean and lay it on me has nothing to do with that. She said I was "un-generous" and "selfish" and that she was sorry that she had misunderstood what I wanted to have happen to the jewelry (or something). In the meantime, mrguy could hear everything that she was saying and was performing an extraordinary pantomime of nailing himself to a cross and such while I was on the phone. It was highly entertaining / distracting. I stuck to my guns and did not back down and there were empty silences in which I think she might have understood that I was immovable. Mrguy said he was proud of me. I was proud of me, too.

2026 update: I can't believe that I left out the quote that she used during this conversation: "Refer to previous statement". This has become a favorite around the old homestead. Did I mention during this whole jewelry thing that I selected a jewelry appraiser and my sister made me use a different one selected by her estate attorney? She wasn't a very good appraiser, and she was located an hour and a half away, so I had to take a day off in order to use her.

The Latest

This is what the candles looked like in the light of day. Very different from each other!

And now this is the latest: mrguy's most recent scans are in.

"IMPRESSION:

1. No evidence of metastatic disease."

The other stuff is still in the report, the things I call "old guy stuff". He has an enlarged prostate and some arthritis in his neck, and a cyst on his "robust pancreas". Even his original tumor site, the esophagus, shows only "Stable trace circumferential wall thickening" which makes it seem as if it might be returning to its pre-cancerous appearance? Dunno. Mind you, this cancer often snatches you back at the slightest hesitation. But this is great. Mrguy has been worried. I have not. 

He seems so good on his good days. This morning he made us an avocado cheese omelette using his new favorite pan, and I imagine that right now he's in the man room dancing the tarantella.

So Yesterday Happened

We left the home together! And we bought camel shaped pastries at the Italian bakery in the rain.

After a while, I started making pumpkin salmon soup in advance of watching Game 2 of the World Series. The Blue Jays are my team and I've been looking forward to this for 30+ years. So I got my ingredients and was cutting my many vegetables and listening to an interview with Roy Wood Jr. and Trevor Noah. I began to feel settled, looking out of my kitchen window with my headphones on, while making my cozy soup. Then the day took a turn for a worse.

I saw a woman and her dog pass from my side of the street to the island and deposit a huge bag of dog doo on the island, leaving it there and walking away. I snapped. I ran out of the house, grabbed her bag of poo and shouted down the street "Don't worry. I'll take care of your dog shit for you!!!!" Surprisingly, she heard me, came back halfway and said "I always do that and come back for it later". I turned my back and yelled "I've got it this time!!"

Not my finest moment, and I feel somewhat ashamed, but there I was making something yummy and if I didn't move the dog shit I was going to have to look at it. How did I know she was coming back, and WHATEVER. I regularly see dog doo bags in our front yard left behind by dog owners. And on top of it I was just thinking today about maybe planting something in the barren island in the middle of the street.

So I finished the soup -- and if you use this recipe it really isn't quite the same if you use celery instead of celery root (there was none at the store). But I was just thickening it and putting in the corn and salmon. Mrguy replayed the Canadian national anthem for me, and after the top of the first the power went dead.

The power company told us that the outage would last until 7:45, which would be the end of the game. I decided to pull out some fun candles -- the kind that turn colors as they melt. They did not give off much light, so I added a regular candle. And we listened to a Canadian broadcast of the game on SiriusXM.

The soup was delicious, but we lost Game 2 and are now tied 1 - 1 with the team that mrguy calls The Hated Dodgers.

Here's what caused our outage.