Friday

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This day of the week has over time become special to me and to Debbie and I.

Last year the part time teaching job I had with a local community college involved maintaining an open lab on Wednesday and Thursday evenings as well as Tuesday mornings. Debbie works in her profession on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday also. I remarked once to her that our Friday came on Thursday, so our Saturday came on Friday. It was our day of relaxation, dinner or lunch and other dates.

The movie theaters are very uncrowded on Fridays. Sometimes in our favorite theater us and one other couple are watching the film. I like that.

When I bought tickets to the play we are going to see tonight I specifically picked the Friday performance.

When we started dating, that term seemed foreign to me. I referred to our outings as field trips. I think, I am certain, I was hunting for a term that would not hurt Cheryl’s feelings. Cheryl had passed on from this earthly existence but then as now she is still in my heart. Field trip is a term Debbie and I still use to describe our date activities. Much like a term of endearment it is a code, a phrase with a personal meaning for being together and enjoyment of an activity.

“We need a field trip.” she will say. My reply is yes we do and off we go to dinner and a movie or something.

Today the field trip is an afternoon luncheon and later this evening the play at Cincinnati’s Playhouse in the Park. The performance is “Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women” an adaptation by playwright Lauren M. Gunderson. I am looking forward to it for several reasons. It is coming to Cincinnati directly from Portland where my sister lives. Some of the actors are from there. I could not get through the book earlier in my life so I am inclined to find it in the library and read it again to see if my reading tastes have changed as I grow older. However, the real reason is that I have an opportunity to spend time with Debbie.

We will talk and muse about the past week. We will discuss Florida again. It is currently snowing in our part of the world so we will complain a bit about that. Afterward we will discuss the play itself over a glass of wine and maybe a snack.

We are going tonight because our trip to Florida bumped this play from our schedule last week. Another field trip is what we both need during this snowy season in Ohio.

We could stay in and whine about the weather or we could ignore it and rejoice in life and its pleasurable attributes. Soon the snow will be over.

Snow-mageddon be damned. We are going to the play.

Carpe Diem.

Diet Ideas

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Another Stuff Soup:

Winter is the time of year that I find myself scrutinizing the number on the bathroom scale when I stand on it. I have found that it matters not if I stand on it everyday or if I stand on it at random times or if I stand on it once a week, it always reports the same thing. A lot of food has gone into me and only a small amount did not stick to my skeleton.

I like to eat. I admit that. Debbie and I have been eating out more of late. Much of that is last week’s trip to Florida.

RFK jr. and the boys say I should eat more protein because I am older. His math reports 127 grams (4.5 oz.) per day. A handful of peanuts, I like roasted peanuts and I have roasted my own, contains about an ounce (28g) with about 170 kilo calories and 8g of protein.

The tasteless skinless gargantuan frozen chicken breasts I have in my freezer come in at 200 kilo calories and 38-ish grams of protein. This comment, “A standard 3.5-ounce (85g) raw breast has about 102 calories and 19g of protein” from Google’s AI made me laugh. The chicken breasts I have are much more robust than this assessment, so I cut them in half before freezing them. I have often wondered if the chickens that I have purchased were able to walk upright.

Chickpeas (46 kcal/3g) per 28g and beans (36 kcal/2.3g) of any kind are generally a good source of plant protein with the added benefit of fiber to fart with and feel full.

I detect some soup coming on. Chicken noodle soup with chickpeas and veggies. All of my home made soup recipes fall into the category of “stuff” soup, as in, find some stuff and make soup. Or empty the left over fresh veggies in the fridge into a pot and make soup. It is a remarkably easy process.

For this version:

  • 3-4 oz. Chicken breast – skinless and uninteresting
  • 12 oz. Can of peas and carrots – also uninteresting
  • 12 oz. Can of chickpeas – leftover from a hummus experiment
  • 32 oz. Box of chicken broth
  • 10 oz. Bundle of Thai wheat noodles – from another cooking caper
  • 1 tsp. cardamom – a great background spice for chickeny stuff
  • 2 chicken bullion cubes
  • salt and pepper as needed – taste it for this step (Do not burn your tongue!)

Dump the stuff – except the noodles – into a dutch oven or other suitable pot with a lid. Lid on. Thirty minutes or so to simmer after bringing to a low boil. Chop the chicken however you like it. After the thirty minutes toss in the bundle of Thai noodles (lid back on) and wait another ten minutes or so before tasting and adjusting the salt and spices. Leave the lid off and bring to a low simmering boil for twenty minutes or so.

Oranges are low in kilo calories and protein but I ate one while waiting for the soup to simmer to the end.

Lunch is ready. Crackers are good with this soup. Almost no protein in crackers.

Maybe I will stand on the scale tomorrow.

Carpe Diem.

Longing for Spring

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Last week we returned from a midwinter trip to southern Florida to our home here in the “Heart of it All” Ohio. I like the slogan. Close your eyes a little and squint at the shape of the state. It is slightly heart shaped. These days here it is a cold heart.

Sit back and relax while I whine a little about the Ohio winter made worse by visiting Florida in late January. I am just starting to understand the snowbird phenomenon and why Delta Airlines has direct flights from Cincinnati to Naples, Florida bypassing their home port Atlanta, Georgia which is actually on the way.

When Cheryl was still here, winter weather was terrifying for two reasons. The first was obvious. She did not move well with her Parkinson ailment, so, any slippery surface was an opportunity for a catastrophic fall. She did not think well with her dementia ailment, so the winter darkness brought on strange behaviors that I did my best to help her cope with. We did many late night drives around a four mile loop I invented on the fly to take her home because her sun-downers syndrome convinced her that she was not home. Once I took a different path “home” and she told me, “This isn’t the way home.” I never varied from my original route after that comment.

I am not terrified of Ohio winter any longer. Inconvenienced perhaps. Uninterested in winter sports perhaps. There is a great sledding hill just across the street on an old abandoned golf course but I am not going there.

Going for a walk is inconvenient. Most folks just shovel off the driveway if they shovel anything at all.

Going for a bike ride is out of the question for similar reasons to those of walking. Many drivers are incompetent at that in normal daylight dry conditions. Cabin fever makes them aggressive it seems or maybe they are upset that the dairy guy is unable to refill the shelves in a timely manner and they will miss out. FOMO sires aggressiveness. Bicycle riders be damned. And it is too cold in any case, I am a warm weather rider.

Mostly winter anywhere is just gray while the world awaits the return of the sunlight and warmth. The view of the woods from my living room window will be bleak and gray for a few weeks more. And just as I am thinking these sad thoughts, a cardinal appears in view outside of that window and lifts my spirits.

He is wearing his best late winter plumage. He is looking for a mate. His distinctness against the gray and white is fantastical. He whispers change is coming. He cheeps a little because there are no females in this woods. He is off again.

This picture is from my trail camera that Debbie gave me for Christmas.

Spring is coming.

Carpe Diem.

mushrooms

Church, Mass, Catholicism

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A few weeks ago on Sunday before church began I wrote – What do I want to takeaway from my time in mass today? And further I wrote – What for the rest of the day?

As to the first prompt, I went to Sunday mass (11AM service) which Cheryl and I did not do for some time. Early on in our marriage we went to the 9AM service. There were 5 masses at our parish in those days. Later as the church changed and even later as Cheryl’s disease progressed we attended 4:30 mass which became 5:15 mass which eventually died a slow death with little participation. After her death I returned to 5:15 mass and over time I was comforted by friends. Now this mass is gone from the schedule too. I think my takeaway is that the Roman Catholic church has lost touch with the congregation.

There is only one mass time at my parish now. It was not crowded. It should have been crowded but it was okay that it was not crowded. The holiday is over and much is back to normal. Small attendance masses are peaceful.

Thinking this way is the way I think about busses. They run all the time on specific routes. If I find one convenient I get on and ride. But only certain routes and certain times are crowded. Riding an empty-ish bus in the mid-morning can be peaceful much like a city tour bus without the scratchy public address system.

Limited access highways are like this in the morning and late afternoon. Expressways, however, are never peaceful.

Masses ought to happen on a fixed schedule, so I can get in and get some holy, is probably a selfish attitude. I will think about that for some time. I may never find a conclusion. It is that sort of a question, one with no answer, for me to ponder as I get older and put more of life in the past.

I think many dioceses of the Roman Catholic Church have lost touch with their congregations but that thought is not my only takeaway. I went back to church after Cheryl died to look for the peacefulness missing in my life. For a while I found it there. I moved from where we often sat so that I could see Cheryl in the pew from a different position. It was peaceful and I was surrounded by friends. The Church is the congregation.

In the time that has passed since I started this essay, I have visited and thought and revisited it several times. What is it that I want from church? It is community. It is belonging. It is love. It is morality. It is sharing the journey. It is belief in a universal consciousness we call God and sharing that belief with others.

How does one become spiritual? And why do I (me, myself) attend this specific service. The first and most glaring reason is that it is the spiritual system with which I am most familiar. I was brought up Catholic so at this point in my life it may be nothing stronger than indoctrination. There must be something more than that idea in me.

In a similar vein, what is the meaning of life? What is my purpose in it? Am I achieving my purpose? If I cannot figure out my purpose, how will I know if I achieve it? Is it important to achieve it? As I get older I find myself searching for this, an unknown, a “may never be known”, the church might say, “a cannot be known.” I search for peace in my heart with not knowing my purpose.

To just be is enough for now.

Carpe Diem

Ohio is Home

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Reflections After a Wonderful and Pleasant Trip

While waiting for the dryer to finish up I sat in my guest bedroom for a bit to think and reflect and simply enjoy the quiet for a bit after returning from a very pleasant trip to Naples Florida with two of my favorite people. We planned this trip before the holidays. In a bit of universal serendipity the late January snow-mageddon that blanketed the Midwestern section of the country remained aloof until we were settled in our little rent-a-cottage near old Naples.

We are back now. No matter what I may think about cold Ohio temperatures, it is great to be home. I have lived in this part of the world all my life and have had the opportunity in my working career to travel to many other places in the U. S. and abroad. It is always great to be back home.

Over the weekend as I was watching the newsy shows, a weather guy reported that temperatures in the 20s were expected in Miami on Sunday. Alas for them. They will need long pants and socks.

Later, folding and rolling and putting away, I thought how many pairs of socks does one need? Immediately behind that came a thought about T-shirts. We do live in a great place. Again is not an issue.

Fortunately, not all of Florida is beaches and crowded restaurants. Fortunately also, there are direct flights to Naples, Florida from Cincinnati, Ohio (and back). The car started easily. Very little snow was on it after having been parked in an open lot for eight days.

Debbie and I made it safely home. Joyce is back in Portland. It was a nice respite.

Carpe Diem

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!