connections - NYT

2026 Complaint

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Dear New York Times Games Editor,

My girl friend and I wish to register a complaint with reference to the January 1, 2026 Connections puzzle published at midnight.

Often in the early morning we exchange SMS messages to determine how well we slept over night. It is also a routine of ours to put our heads together and discover the categories to the connections puzzle published in your paper. I have subscribed to your paper for many years and I am writing to register a complaint.

This mornings purple category is without question sneaky and incorrect. “vegetables without a letter” is incorrect. “vegetables without some letters” is the correct category but this designation applies to many words and is therefore sneaky and unkind to duo solvers such as us. Shame on you!

Your clue category of “ALE EEK HIVE QUASH” was very puzzling to us both early this morning. I suggested to my love – words without the starting “S”. Shive is in fact a word albeit an obscure one, so obscure this word processing program underlines it with red squiggles. Similar to a bung it is used to close a barrel or container. It is also the past pluperfect of the noun shiv when used as a verb to indicate the style of injury enacted upon another in a reformatory situation.

Although “KALE” is a veggie of some note among the svelte exercise and tight glutes set, it is of no interest to those of us who began life in the previous millennium. Similarly “SQUASH” aka mixed vegetables on the restaurant menu is only of marginal interest, however, these are valid choices in a certainly weak category of vegetables without a letter.

Whoever orders one leek will certainly looked upon with disdain and if that same person were to request no chive be included in their sour cream for the baked potato, she or he would in all probability be banned for life from any available table. Further shame cast upon that person! It is with this last that I am called to register the most grievous complaint for chives although is in fact a plant it is more likely to be described as a spice or a garnish than an actual vegetable. As proof of this position, I offer no restaurant menu offers as a side item chive. Nor would that same institution include one chive mixed with sour cream to enliven the taste of an otherwise boring baked potato.

Further support of this position being unnecessary, I close my letter of complaint and bid you and yours a very merry and happy new year.

With best regards,

The Adjunct Wizard

connections - NYT

Carpe Diem in the new year.

A 2026 Calendar

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Time and Dates and Events

The activity of marking and acknowledging life events was Cheryl’s job. All through 2025 I realized how much I missed her and her organizational ability when my date dyslexia would dissipate for a moment and would remember that I forgot some important event like a birthday or anniversary. These, of course, were an important acknowledgment of some life altering event. Something to be commemorated. Something to be celebrated. Or something to be commiserated.

To her life was a continuum but it was marked by various events both good and bad.

When she moved to a memory care facility and I disassembled her office back into a guest bedroom, I developed a simple sorting method for her clutter. Clutter is an unkind word because in her own mind as it disintegrated she was doing real work and “getting things done.” It breaks my heart when I think about it. Scattered in various storage spaces in my condominium now I have collected the clutter into three general categories: pictures, letters, notes.

The pictures are easy. They are of our family and friends and sometimes Christmas postcards that show the growth of often far flung friends and family. In earlier times she sorted and organized these. During the last few years of her life she sorted and organized but the associations were meaningless to others, as well as, her after she had done so.

The letters did not need separation or organization. These were separated into their own file folder. Cheryl and I wrote many many letters back and forth while in high school. I have these collected with my own response in my office.

Her notes I sorted into their own tubs and a couple boxes. I hope to write a memoir as I review her notes to herself.

Today I went through the big black book that we (I) purchased for her to help her remember birthdays and anniversaries when her cognitive function was fading. The BBB is its own category. It has all the dates of family and friends births and anniversaries and in some cases, their deaths. It has also collected many other notes and pictures paper-clipped and stapled here and there at random. This coming year I hope to remember my family’s birthdays and although I am not a card sender, I can acknowledge the date.

It is hard for me to go through this book to recover birth data because it contains cognitive data and the lack there of as well. This note, stuck in the book on April 15th, reminds me how upon occasion her cognitive ability returned for short periods

– DO NOT worry about greeting cards for the W/girls for now) (too much stress –

I do not know which W/girls she referred to but her mind was telling her to relax a bit. The note is printed in all caps. Mileena’s birthday is noted on the page above this note and the parenthesis are askew, nevertheless, she recognized her internal stress about getting it right and wrote herself a note to let it go. She consistently wrote notes to herself about this or that and attached the notes to that or this. The attachment did not always go with the note.

I did achieve my goal. I constructed a calendar of my own and slid it into a plastic sheet protector. I laid it on the kitchen table so that I can ignore it in a brighter light filled room. (When she was alive it resided in the hallway to our bedroom.)

Better in Retirement

I am ready for 2026.

Carpe Diem.

Assumption based on Facts not in Evidence

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Often I hear people make statements about ideas they believe to be true. What is it within us that excites us to passionately argue for some idea that is merely opinion, our opinion, no one else’s opinion.

If I miss-type opinion it comes out onion. Onions are bulb root veggies that grow in layers. Onions become metaphors, plant metaphors, for other thoughts and ideas.

“That is just wrong on so many layers!” Have ever heard that comment? I have. I have made that comment before about something. What does that mean to you?

To me it merely means that the nuances of some idea are wrong.

Recently I posted on Facebook, the fact based forum where anybody may post any comment about any idea or article, the link to an article from the New York Times. My opening comment: “Remarkable in many ways… Makes you understand why he called previous guy sleepy Joe. I hadn’t thought about before but Donnie is like Elvis – he’s everywhere, he’s everywhere! He’s in Joan Rivers but he’s trying to get out!” set off an unintended firestorm of commentary among my grandchildren and their great uncle. Other family and friends leaped into the breach to defend, contrast, explain and even chastise the poster.

Admittedly I did not read the complete article. I did look at and read the pictures associated with it. That cursory examination supported my own view that once the weather forecast happened and the latest Donald Trump comments went by, there was little of interest to me on the morning news shows. I observed that our current president seems almost despondent if he is not leading the headlines.

It sounds unkind to my own ear when I write that but this assumption of mine is based on facts very much in evidence by the New York Times as well as other news sources. Mr. Trump refers to any derogatory news article as fake news – but is not all news gossip?

Much like the wizard in Dorothy’s dream about Oz, who says, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!” Mr. Trump diverts attention as much as he is able when the gossip is unflattering and attracts attention when it suits. Occasionally he has fired the messenger. It is great entertainment.

John F. Kennedy embraced the media of television when it suited him. Franklin Roosevelt’s medium was radio. Donald Trump embraces social media and select interviewers on select networks. Part of the entertainment value is listening to reporters inane questions and hearing his peculiar insults when they ask questions that although impertinent are meaningful. On his social media platform Truthsocial he can ignore any commentary and take the pulse of his supportive base. On camera he is compelled to respond regardless.

I started with opinions and onions. Some onions are sweet and other onions are, well, oniony. Onions build themselves in layers as they develop. Opinions develop differently and similarly. Opinions do not require facts to develop. Opinions do require support but not necessarily facts.

Facts solidify opinions either pro or con.

I have read the complete article.

The victorious man in the day of crisis is the man who has the serenity to accept what he cannot help and the courage to change what must be altered. – Reinhold Niebuhr

The debate rages onward.

Carpe Diem.

Inès Gradot painting

The Holidays Can Be Joyous (And Tough)

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Link to NYT article

I read this article in the New York Times. It is a guest essay. It spoke directly to my heart.

In the fall of 2023 I faced up to the fact that I would be unable to care for Cheryl on my own. I sought out information and decided on a nearby senior care facility with a memory care wing with which we we were both familiar. Both of our mother’s had stayed there at the end of their lives.

It is a tough decision to make. It is hard for anyone who has been in a loving relationship for five decades to recognize that they cannot do it all. The slowness of the care giving to a partner with a chronic disease initially deceived me into believing all would be well.

Then her dementia came.

My children and I moved Cheryl about two weeks before Thanksgiving that year. For those two weeks prior to the big meal at my son and his wife’s house, I spent every day with her talking about what a great time we would have and how all the grand kids were doing. I thought she understood it all.

On Thanksgiving she did not want to leave the facility but eventually I convinced her it would be alright.

We stayed for about two hours at the dinner. Cheryl seemed confused about all of it they entire time we were there. She wanted to leave abruptly after the dinner of which she ate little.

Care giving (care partnering) does change your perception of those around you.

It allows you to love unconditionally.

Carpe Diem

At Christmas

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It is Christmas time

so let us eschew

conflict anew

and remember a rhyme

of a quiet night

and a holy night

to climb

above our difference

Merry Christmas. Everyone!

Religious Violence

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What causes people to do it? In Australia overnight an attack happened at a Hanukah celebration at Bondi Beach. What is wrong with people?

Every time I hear about some mass shooting event – how the law enforcement folks refer to it – I wonder, what is wrong with people? In this case were other Aussies upset because the Jewish people were celebrating the beginning of their beloved holiday festival and the others were not invited? Live and let live.

Were the Christ-loving gunmen sad because the Roman conquered Jewish leaders talked that namby pamby Pilot guy into crucifying Jesus? (That happened at Easter you dimwits.) Wait, were the gunmen Christ lovers? Did they not read what he preached? Just what is wrong with people?

What specific wrong does this shooting make right? Are the Hamas sympathizers angered by Israel retaliating for an unprovoked attack on the party outside the fence? So, why? I imagine there is no way to understand any motivation for the gunmen. People who shoot into crowds simply because they have some religious axe to grind are truly despicable.

Serious morons. True demonic entities. There seems a shift in the moral compass somehow. The major religions are unable to tamp down the tide of violence.

Or maybe it has always been this way. We just spent too much time looking the other way.

I do not know Aramaic or Hebrew: A Mourner’s Kaddish — for those murdered today.

Glorified and sanctified be God’s great name throughout the world which He has created according to His will.

May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days, and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon; and say, Amen.

May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.

Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored, adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that are ever spoken in the world; and say, Amen.

May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen.

He who creates peace in His celestial heights, may He create peace for us and for all Israel;

and say, Amen.

The prayer exalts the Creator and wishes only for peace in this world.

Carpe Diem.

(My cousin suggested I change namby pamby Pilot to Pilate which is the correct spelling – but no, I think not, he was driving the whole narrative. Pilate was the pilot of the plot as soon as he washed his hands.)

Funerals

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These events are for the living. The usefulness to the living is a final farewell. The tradition helps the living cope with the fact that they too will eventually succumb. (Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we are here and then we are not.) Nice music and often monotonic recitation of traditional prayer provides solace.

This particular funeral service was held for my sister-in-law. Three of us brothers-in-law are widowers now. Is this a trend? I hope not. I chose to sit near the back of the church to avoid sitting with the grieving immediate family and to be alone with my own thoughts. Cheryl is still fresh in my mind.

As the homilist was speaking I heard the first allusion to purgatory in a Roman Catholic sermon that I have heard without using the word for a very long time. (It could be that I did not listen to funeral sermons carefully before this one.) I was interested by the implication that the person might not be in heaven. But me being me I was not alarmed, I went off to the Wait wait What? to read current doctrine of the Roman Catholic church. Every thought, idea, law and religious doctrine exists on the WWW somewhere and it exists for any religious philosophy.

There is a YouTube video for the reading challenged at www.catholic.com that tells all. Reserve an hour or so if you are interested. I have got to admit that the current view of purgatory is much different than what I got from reading the catechism and listening to the Sisters of Mercy seventy years ago.

I have misunderstood the difference of “praying for” and “praying to” for many years. Today I read this: “… prayers for the dead: “In doing this (offering a sacrifice) he (Judas Maccabee) acted in a very excellent and noble way, inasmuch as he had the resurrection of the dead in view; for if he were not expecting the dead to rise again, it would have been useless and foolish to pray for them in death. But if he did this with a view to the splendid reward that awaits those who had gone to rest in godliness, it was a holy and pious thought. Thus he made atonement for the dead that they might be freed from this sin” (2 Macc. 12:43–45). Prayers are not needed by those in heaven, and no one can help those in hell…”

There is an in-between state (Limbo of the Fathers, Purgatory, Sanctification) and those souls we pray for. Souls in heaven do not need prayer. They are there. They are sanctified. They are prayed to. Souls in hell (damnation) are lost and cannot be helped. That is sad. The distinction was lost on me when I was six years old and I was not interested enough to ask. Catholic philosophy is laden with guilt and I did not seek out more of it by asking the nun to compare and contrast for and to.

As for me, I prefer to sit near the back of any church. It is a fine old Catholic tradition that if you get in early you can sit in the back. Cheryl liked to sit midway up and to the left side. After her death I sit near the rear and to the right. I can look at the other side of her. I see her often in church, any church, when I am there.

Family is mostly what I thought about during her funeral after I made a mental note to educate myself about the concept of purgatory. Two of my children sat with me. We did not stay for the reception in the church hall afterward. Cheryl’s death is too fresh for all of us.

Cheryl… when she died I was sad and happy… She was better at religion than I was and am now. I think women are better at religion. It is odd, I think, that men are in charge of them, all of them. I was sad that she was gone from my life and I felt that here in church at Teri’s funeral.

Cheryl came to me in an early morning dream a few months ago. It is incredibly vivid in my memory, as though I had lived though it. In the dream there was a special service in our church – Nativity. For some unclear reason we had to bring our own chairs to the service – a mass as I remember it. At the end of the service she hoped up and announced to me that she had to go. I can hear her, “I have to go!” I thought she meant to the lady’s room. She was in the midst of her Parkinson’s and with that her memory and spacial issues. She could not always find her way around. In this instance she was moving with ease towards the lavatory door which was around the corner and out of my sight as she moved through the crowd of folks leaving the service. I waited anxiously near our chairs gathering our stuff up to leave. I looked in her direction often to be sure she would make her way back. She often was unsure of where she was, so, I was worried. She was gone a long time and as I began to move towards the lady’s room a young man came up to me and asked if he could help with the chairs. He explained that Cheryl was gone.(He said, “She’s not coming back. She’ll be okay.) It is a very vivid memory/dream and I cry whenever I recall it. She is in heaven. This is what I take her last visit to me in this dream to mean.

I am happy for her because she was no longer suffering from Parkinson’s scourge that took her from this life and my life. I am happy that I can pray to her.

Carpe Diem

Fire

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https://wlwt.com/article/4-people-displaced-after-fire-engulfs-home-in-pleasant-ridge/69582581

A house fire is a terribly scary thing.

This picture of my son’s house on fire makes me glad and sad at the same time. The whole family went to a nearby church to buy a Christmas tree. Gone for perhaps 20 – 30 minutes they returned to this conflagration at their house.

Glad – they were not home.

Sad – their home was messed up and will need extensive repairs.

So now starts the extensive task of cleaning and repair.

What caused it? A small remote control outlet that allowed them to turn on a floor lamp without climbing over the couch to do that task. (Ah, It shorted out you said to yourself.) Not a “short” as electrical folks think of it. A short circuit would have popped the breaker. This did not. It cooked and got hotter until the nearby couch caught fire.

Many of us have similar devices. I have one I talk to, “Alexa! Light on!” Same thing, different remote style. I have touched all of those little chargers, bricks, power supplies, thingies plugged in anywhere in my house. Look at the picture again. Scary stuff. I will do it more often, maybe even, a nightly routine.

“I bet they did not have smoke detectors.” Social media is rife with experts and lookie-loos. One of them took this picture. “I saw them take someone out on a stretcher.” Nope.

The smoke detectors were screaming when the fire department showed up. I am glad no one was home to hear them. One of the pet cats, “Snowball”, did not make it.

Glad – they are all safe. Glad my family is safe.

Sad – one of the cats died in the fire.

Glad – they have good insurance. Things can be replaced.

Sad – for all the clean-up that will occur going forward. Enough laundry is done to get on with life and the recovery process.

Both sad and glad. Several days beyond the initial trauma, the world has stabilized a bit and the clean up begins. My son got a ticket from the zoning commission for having an unlivable domicile. We laughed at that. My grandson who stored all of his toys and cars in the living room where the fire occurred incurred a loss of all of those. When my son mentioned that to his teacher at school the first day afterward, she replied, we can fix that. My grandson came home with cars and truck carrier and some new clothes.

He has a great teacher and a wonderful school.

Carpe Diem.

Baking and Memories

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This is the time of the year when I pay more attention to baking and making breads and pasties and pie. It is a winter time past time and it makes my little condo smell divine for a day or two. Lately I have been focused on a pecan pie recipe that I received from my daughter-in-law who is an excellent pie maker and shares my love of sweets.

I started this morning by tweaking my stash of recipes with the Karo syrup pecan pie recipe that I copied off of the world wide wait (that’s an old term – these days it is the Wha Wait What?). When I saved it to the correct folder on this laptop I found the following piece I wrote a while ago. It is a good memory of mine.

As I re-read the yellow bag story, I could hear Cheryl. At first, after she died, I was anxious that I would lose the ability to hear her voice. He works in mysterious ways. Gladly He helps me to hear her voice. (Sometimes, of course, being male, I do not want to hear it.) … on to the cookie story.

She’s Done it to Me

A couple years ago, when Cheryl was struggling physically more with Parkinson and her struggle with the dementia aspects of it was taking away her ability to follow simple directions, she coerced (maybe too strong of a word) me into helping her make cookies. I did not want to at the time.

Once or twice these were Snickerdoodles. And a couple other times we made chocolate chip cookies, the recipe is on the two pound bag of Nestle’s morsels. “You have to get the yellow bag!” she said to me once when I when I returned from the store by myself in the midst of the COVID pandemonium and price-shopped for supplies. “Those won’t work.” I was disheartened. I had purchased the store brand of chocolate chips. I argued my case for twenty-two milliseconds before realizing that there was no point in contesting the issue further. I returned to the store for the correct chips (“Morsels! It will say morsels on the bag. The bag is yellow.” She spoke to my back as I left.)

I can hear her voice. Little stories like this help me to recall her voice.

Yesterday, because I could avoid it no longer, I went to the grocery to restore my larder to its previous vigor. At the beginning my list had only two things, dried cranberries and raisins. Both of these I add to overnight oats which has become a new favorite breakfast treat. I have a pint Ball jar that is just the right size to contain a half cup of rolled oats, a cup of milk and whatever else I put in with those usually raisins or craisins some honey and chia seeds to set in the fridge overnight. I have also added at times cocoa powder, cinnamon, cardamon, vanilla or tahinni and used brown sugar instead of honey. This mixture goes well with my assembly of the coffee in the evening as well as drinking the coffee in the morning.

While putting all away I discovered that the bag of dried cranberries that I purchased would not fit into my quart jar I use to save dried fruit. Alas, some remained in the Ziploc bag that only zips most of the time. I left them on the counter to become a healthy evening snack near the apples and bananas.

After preparing some lunch I hunted for some sweetness to satisfy my heritage and hit upon spreading the Nutella look-alike I purchased at Aldi sometime in the past on a saltine cracker and sprinkling cranberries on top. That tuned out pretty good. (If you are not a believer, try it.) I realized that I was inventing a variety of cookie – biscuit or digestive to the Brits out there – and heard Cheryl say, “You could try making a chocolate cookie with stuff in it.” I blame Cheryl when I hear these inventive thoughts about cooking. She was not very inventive with ingredients but very inventive with technique.

I launched myself into search for a basic chocolate cookie that I could modify with extra ingredients. Below is the final product:

  • 2 C. all purpose flour
  • 2/3 C. powdered cocoa
  • 1 tsp. baking soda
  • ¼ tsp. salt
  • 1 ½ C. white sugar
  • 1 C. unsalted butter
  • 2 large eggs
  • 2 tsp. vanilla extract
  • 1 C. chocolate morsels (in the yellow bag)
  • 1 C. dried cranberries
  • ½ C. smashed walnuts (crushed in the bag but I smash them further)

I creamed the butter, eggs, vanilla and sugar for a bit. Whisked the flour, salt, soda and cocoa together in a separate bowl dry and then dumped them into my mixer. (I bought a new mixer.) After a bit of mixing I tried out my folding paddle and dumped in the rest of the ingredients.

Bake in a 350F (177C) – medium oven 8 to 10 minutes. This lump of cookie dough makes about 4 dozen if you use a teaspoon from your table wear set to scoop and spoon some on to an UNgreased cookie sheet like I did.

After 8 minutes on the timer, I rotated the cookie sheets in the oven and added 4 minutes to the time. This worked for me because I dislike (maybe hate) chewy soft cookies. There is something special about just the right crunch that makes me smile.

Cheryl! You turned me into a cookie recipe experimenter. It is all your fault. (Dammit.) I love you and you are right. These are good. The tricky part will be spreading them out in my eating habits. I have eaten three while writing this story. They go well with coffee.

I wonder which wine pairs well. Pinot Noir? Chardonnay?

A conundrum.

Carpe Diem.

I will miss her always. I promise to only buy chocolate chips in the yellow bag that say morsels on the bag. Yes, Dear. I love you and miss you on holidays like this. Be safe and well in heaven. (Yep, I teared up when I wrote this.)

Carpe the baking Diem

Thankful

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This time of year I think of the things, people and situations in my life for whom and which I am thankful. The positives outweigh the negatives. Do this for yourself and assess were you are. (I am rarely thankful for negatives.)

People: (Be careful here. It is easy to miss someone.)

  • Anna & Eric & the kiddos
  • David & Melissa & the kiddos
  • Scott & Mavis & the kiddos
  • My sister Joyce
  • Debbie Joy
  • My cousin Bob (also Tom)
  • All the Nancys
  • Sr. Carren
  • Sr. Janet
  • The stock club guys
  • Grief Share support
  • Bea, Bev, Marg, Peggy, John and Peg and the back pew support crew

I stop after this list because the people who have saved me is too great for me to remember and the people who are so very special to me crowd my thoughts. It is remarkable that Cheryl is talking to me in my head; “you forgot… and what about…“ After three rounds of Grief Share group support I can hear her voice with almost perfect clarity. So, I tell her, “okay maybe I shouldn’t try to list everyone. You are right someone I missed will be sad I did not list them and they will think I forgot what they did for me.” She just said, “I am (right)!” I laughed out loud at her.

Things:

  • A place to live
  • Bike paths and a car big enough to put my bike into for travel.
  • No mortgage or loan payments
  • Enough cash to last until the end of me
  • Enough food and the ability to prepare it
  • Pie and coffee cake
  • Blueberry sorbet (I am listing the truly important things now.)
  • Also pecan pie. Mavis sent me her pecan bars recipe with the note that the filling makes THE BEST pecan pie. I have made it twice now and she is ABSOLUTELY CORRECT.

I am thankful that in our society I think I will get by with the means at hand. I am pretty sure I will get to the end of my life before I get to the end of my money. We (Cheryl and I) have always been fiscally frugal.) Tricky to do raising three kids but they all turned out perfect and these days their families are perfect. (I am thankful for them too.) I think the little pile of money Cheryl and I put together will last until the end of me.

Situations:

  • Good health
  • Bike paths and the ability to ride on them
  • Loving family
  • Wonderful friends
  • I have decided and have started the process of complete retirement. I hope to have enough time to pursue my own interests and hobbies without interruption of commitment not of my own decision.
  • Mental relief of making that decision and starting the process.
  • Wearing pajamas until noon

One of the reasons for retirement – maybe one of the best – is wearing pajamas until noon. On baking days and writing days I do this. No one is here except me. I do not concern myself with good looks when no one else is about. Lately there have been fewer writing days. My school schedule has picked up. All of that changes at the end of 2025 and I look forward to it.

Carpe Diem