life

A New Month

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And Just Like That – August Was Over

Sometimes in life it seems like life goes by quickly. At other times of course life drags by slowly. What makes that difference? I am pondering that today.

The easy answer is that I am busy. The real answer is I am happy.

A couple days ago I went to a funeral. The event was not a happy event but I was happy that I was able to attend and support my friends. Because of other commitments I thought I would not be able to attend. In talking to the few old men that I knew there, I found that I was not dealing with a myriad of health issues that crop up when old men talk to each other. It made me smile inside a bit, because I am not dealing with nor had dealt with any of the issues discussed.

Admittedly that sounds a bit like bragging. It is not. I have aches and pains. My body reminds me sometimes about my age and my lack of preparation for various athletic activities but overall I am in pretty good health and I am happy for that fact.

I thanked Him for my good health and His graciously sparing me from the various old man issues I heard about at the funeral service.

When Cheryl died last year I was very sad for some time. I was unsure that I would be truly happy again. I was resigned to being alone for the rest of the time God gave me. I also was wondering what is my purpose. Prior to her death I had locked myself into the premise that I was here to help her. Life purpose is an idea that wanders in and out of my thoughts. I was wrong that my only life purpose was Cheryl. There must be more.

I read and re-read Max Ehrmann’s “Desiderata” poem. I read it like advisement and maybe a prayer. He writes “… strive to be happy.” He does not write – strive to be busy.

I have good friends and I have a wonderful woman in my life. For me it is hard to be unhappy. I have found that even though the most important person in my life has left this earthly existence, it is possible to develop a new and lasting relationship. Strive to be happy. Take a chance. Life is relationships.

All of those relationships mingle and make me happy to be here. I was happy when Cheryl was my focal point. I am happy with Debbie as my new focus. Connection with another and others creates purpose. It reveals the goodness and graciousness of our life force, the soul of our being, the beauty of the world and the breathtakingly joyful participation in it. These are happiness itself.

I am searching for some definitive purpose when life is it. I always knew this but I was caught in the conundrum of determining a specificity. Life is random. Be present for it to happen.

“And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should…. Strive to be happy.”

Carpe Diem.

Astoria column

The Left Coast Trip

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The Pacific and Oregon

I have been to visit my sister in Portland several times. It is always a relaxed visit for me. It seems a relaxed visit with Debbie this time.

Seeing and visiting with my sister in her own environment is always a treat. I learn new things about her and find out what a remarkable woman my sibling is.

The next door neighbor who is a single mom, and her daughter had traveled to Mexico to visit with the mom’s boyfriend’s family. For some unknown reason the daughter was flying home before mom and Joyce had volunteered to pick up the daughter at the airport and give her a ride to her home next door. There was a small delay and some excitement at the international part of the airport apparatus as mom had given the 14 year old daughter a bottle of tequila to transport home.

At the custom’s desk the question of – anything to declare? – was met with the young girl’s honest response of – yes I have a bottle of tequila. Not to be judgey but – Gee Whiz, Mom. What are you thinking about?

Info from the Customs and Border agents website — Generally, one liter of alcohol per person may be entered into United States duty-free by travelers who are 21 years or older. …. It is illegal for travelers under the age of 21 to import alcohol – even as a gift. They confiscated the tequila of course and when Joyce communicated this information, Mom was incensed.

Columbia River


This sort of information is not hard to find. I found the words italicized above by typing “amount of liquor one may bring into the us duty free?” into Google. I would imagine Duck Duck Go would work too. I did not need to spell U.S. correctly. An amazing service Google is. Gee whiz, Mom. Were you in an area with no bars for your carrier? Her daughter was burdened with a lot of follow-up questions. Who is picking you up? Where is your mother? Imagine in today’s climate a light brown-skinned child’s anxiety.


A child, a dog and three older folks

My sister swung into action and invited the young one on our own excursion into the Columbia river tour and peach purchasing trip. Ice cream treats were served at the end of the afternoon. What a joy to have this mature inquisitive vivacious young girl with us. I think I may have forgotten the joy and wonder that young people bring to life.

Debbie works with young children in her clinical practice so she is tuned into the younger generation and the culture. This young woman was on the cusp of starting a new high school experience. Much of the conversation was sparked by this fact and the excitement that she felt with starting into a new school in a few days. Mom works remotely at her job so as long as the internet was available she could do her job from Mexico. I could hear the dad in me wondering, shouldn’t mom be here commiserating and agonizing with her daughter about high school, teenage-hood, and all the new stuff? Gee whiz. Maybe go and buy a couple new shirts and some of those pre-ripped jeans that the kids wear?

The huckleberry shakes were pretty darn good although I thought the straw was kind of smallish for an ice cream shake. And what is a huckleberry anyway? The conversation was great. I had forgotten the enthusiasm of young people.

Later in the week we visited Rockaway Beach for two nights. We had the best food at Mama Mia’s in Nehalem. We stopped at Astoria to see the column. We bought a couple refrigerator magnets because tourists do that. We ate more food and came back to Portland.

All in all a good time was had by all.

Carpe Diem

On To…

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I originally wrote most of this in December of 2021. The lessons I learned and techniques I developed for communicating with my wife who was dealing with Parkinson disease and associated dementia are applicable today. The lessons of life are illusory and fade if not maintained.

I am learning things about myself from Debbie that I was only beginning to learn from Cheryl and taking care of her at the end of her life. Dementia is a misunderstanding between the brain and it surroundings and the sensors it uses to detect the environment. An oversimplification to say the least but a miscommunication certainly. Missed communication is at the heart of any conflict or dispute.

Lessons from making cookies

December, 2021: Cheryl’s Cookies (Not the Commercial Venture)…

Living with a parkie (person suffering from Parkinson’s disease) makes me alert to new information when it comes up. That being said I do not always recognize my new task nor do I always recognize the information as new. This is about becoming a master cookie maker on the fly. I was not completely inept. I make bread often.

Executive function and loss of it…

Dementia occurs in about 50% of Parkinson’s sufferers who have had it for some time. Mild cognitive impairment often shows up first, followed by hallucinations, delusions, misunderstanding, memory loss and inability to follow simple directions. It is disheartening. Some behaviors are side effects of medications. Some come with build up of unpronounceable proteins in the brain. No matter the source, the behavior can be disheartening and annoying from a care partner perspective because the person you once knew is physically there and mentally not completely there. From a care partner’s perspective it seems that the medical community does not forewarn anyone about this aspect of the disease.

I am a retired engineer and have an innate curiosity about everything around me. Cooking, baking, bread making and all things requiring an oven have a particular fascination. There is practical chemistry in cooking both with the ingredients and the people cooking them. To the question, why do it that way? Near the end, my wife’s reaction often was anger to some perceived slight or merely to the wording of it. (She is the parkie in this story but that may have little to do with it. I caulked most of these reactions to her PD and her mental state at the time.)

It is an engineer’s question. It starts with me. Words and question structure are important factors. Engineers always want to ask why something is done some way or simply is some way. Why often sounds like a challenge, even to other engineers, if it is not asked properly. Tenor is detected in tone of voice both in the sound we make with vocal chords and inside our own head. Cognitive impairment interferes with interpretation of subtleties of tenor and tone of voice.

How to do…

December, 2021: Our latest challenge to our marital bliss is Christmas cookies. Baking is a hobby and a passion to me. I like to think I have perfected my meager talent at making breads of various types and shapes. I am proud of that but lately I have pushing into cakes and pies. The pandemic pandemonium gets to us all in various ways.

My perception of making cookies is one of a trivial exercise in baking. That is an incorrect perspective but one that I have internalized. December is cookie making time. Cheryl is helping me or I am helping her that is unclear in this reminisce but her Parkinson is affecting her more and more. Two cooks in the kitchen is a recipe for a challenge to peaceful coexistence. Two bakers near an oven enables battle lines to be established and defended with vigor. Starting a question with why is akin to removing one’s glove and casting it upon the dueling ground. [Emoji (:-)] Cheryl has made perhaps a giga-dozen (I just made up that word) of cookies. I have made none. What can I say to redeem myself? Engineers ask why a lot and in this exercise I learn to find a more agreeable way to get her to tell me what she knows.

The lead-in; I do not understand, why do… seems to temper the why. Small children ask why a lot until finally the because-I-say-so comes out.

Where to start…

To a skilled cookie baker the recipe is merely a guide, a refresher, a list that says these get lemon zest. Interestingly, that is much like how I view a new bread recipe. I am on familiar territory. (He thought to himself with arrogance.)

Not so fast apprentice! Nearby there is a master cookie baker. Do not question the master’s skill at her craft with disdainful utterances such as, why and how come? All will be revealed. But also keep an eye on the recipe and make answers such as, yes, we have put that in the mix and suggestions, such as, shall I add the butter?

Sometimes with creeping dementia ingredients are forgotten. Sometimes without that factor ingredients are forgotten. Try to be kind and remember that no one got up in the morning thinking, how can I mess with his mind today? Most importantly, do not raise your voice two octaves, that is a dead giveaway to your ignorance.

How does one check for doneness? (It is common sense!) Look at them. (the “fool” is left unsaid.) They will look right. What is right? (and on and on and on…) Cooking is a process. It is learned by doing. Life is random. It is learned by experience.

The 3C method – Cut out the Crap in the Conversation…

To a person standing nearby this conversation sounds rude. It sounds like one person is giving another orders and it can be that way. If done with kindness in the communicator’s heart and with understanding that a Parkinson’s patient also may be dealing with confusion issues, it is neither rude nor demeaning in any way. Often a person experiencing Parkinson’s cannot or does not get the implication or inference. Be clear. Have kindness in your voice when speaking. No teasing.

When tasting the cookies later after they have cooled, do not say, “YOU FORGOT THE SALT!” Instead say “These seem off somehow. Did we forget an ingredient?” Gentle discussion allows for thoughtful assessment rather than confrontational reaction.

The onus is on the care partner not the parkie to be patient, kind and clear. Be aware, care partner, that this is hard to do because you remember how your partner/spouse/parent/friend was before. (Good natured teasing may be misinterpreted. Be certain that your partner is not confused.) You too can be unaware of how they are now. The Parkinson’s patient may become sad or angry. Be persistent if you as care partner are very concerned about safety. Add some love to the conversation if you think you are not getting through the confusion. Strive to not become frustrated and raise your voice (two octaves).

We did wind up with our first battle batch of cookies. Although they were a motley crew, they tasted fine.

This episode came to me as I was thinking about other experiences that have cropped up in my new relationship with Debbie and I am getting to know her family and friends. Patience, kindness and clearness are useful aspects of communication with anyone, especially someone you care for deeply. Debbie has told me several times that she does not always know when I am teasing her. Perhaps I should not do that at all. The ability to tease someone comes with trust and love and familiarity. Perhaps I should remember that I do not know what I do not know and err on the side of kindness and ease, not tease.

Everyday is a winding road. I get a little bit closer. – Sheryl Crow (Good poem/song – read the lyrics)

Carpe Diem.

moms and orbits

Orbits Metaphorically

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Earlier, when I got out of bed I thought to myself that this would be a good day to ride my bike. I will still do that but as I freshened up and ate breakfast and exchanged a few short text messages with Debbie I became more contemplative.

Today I write first, bike later. Originally when I started this essay I did not know where it was going. My mind went to the pleasantness of yesterday. Here comes a cosmic twist on family dynamics.

Yesterday was interesting. Debbie and I went to lunch and afterwards looked for a couple of books in the bookstore. Afterward I took her back home because she had another gathering to go to in the late afternoon. We spent about an hour or so in her living room talking with two of her children. It seems as though they’re becoming more comfortable with my presence. Her kids have her as the center of their life sphere. I suppose that’s both good and bad. She is the center of their existence, at least, these days anyway. The youngest one may have a hard time breaking free from orbit and the older one will probably be fine. It is merely that she is going through a rough patch in her life.

Life moves on. As parents we help where we can. It is much harder to back away when we need to. It is a delicate balance. It is a lot of little things. I can remember in my own life that my father was resistant to me buying lunch even though at the time he was retired and I was gainfully employed. In the particular instance I am thinking about I had to wrestle the check away from him. Later I let him pay. As often as I might visit mom and dad in their later years I was always their little boy. It seems to me that that never really changes.

Even now when I think about my life without Cheryl, without my parents, without my brother, without my youngest sister, it is easy for me to perceive of myself as someone smaller or younger than I actually am. When my Mom was at the end of her life sometimes she would say to me, I need a mother. I think it was her way of saying to me she didn’t really want to be in charge of it all anymore. That is a mother’s job being in charge of it all. Even when mothers do not think they are in charge, they are in charge. That must be why kids gravitate towards them even later in life when they are older in their 60s. Their 90 year old mother is still in charge. Mothers are the core of the family.

I am beginning to understand what Mom meant. Admitting to myself that I don’t know what I don’t know can be terrifying. When Mom was here I could ask her. Even today there are things that I wish I could ask her about. Some days I think I have forgotten how independent she made me. She was good at that.

And yesterday as I observed Debbie interacting with her kids I realized how good Debbie is at that. She is the center of their universe. Eventually everyone fires their engines up and leaves orbit.

The universe is unfolding as it should. It is a big scary place, made less so, so long as the home planet can be returned to for a visit.

Carpe Diem.

Exercise, Personality and Riding

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I suspect that few reading this will care much but I will tell you about it anyway. In a short little piece this morning on CBS, Tony talked about exercise and matching exercise to your personality. The researchers thought is that if you match your exercise to your personality trait(s) you are more likely to continue it whatever it is. In the Telegraph article that Tony was citing, they used the Big 5 model, a psychological framework, to find participants’ dominant personality traits.

I have been interested in psychology and personality for a long time. That interest was rekindled when I went for my M Ed. A few years ago. Hanging with Debbie has rekindled my interest again.

The Big Five model further divides each of the 5 into two as follows:

1) Conscientiousness – industriousness (a self-disciplined and efficient attitude) and orderliness (tidiness and a routine-based lifestyle). I make the bed every morning.

2) Extroversion – enthusiasm (friendly, sociable outlook) and assertiveness (an ambitious and socially dominant attitude) I greet total strangers with a smile.

3) Agreeableness – compassion (caring for and about others) and politeness. I care about how my kids are doing and I like to open the car door for Debbie.

4) Openness to experience – intellect (competence and quickness to understand) and general openness (a creative, imaginative and reflective outlook) Debbie and I have been to many different restaurants and are exploring various soft serve ice cream stands. We call them field trips.

5) Neuroticism – withdrawal (feeling discouraged and self-conscious) and volatility of mood. Sometimes in the afternoon I take a nap. Naps are healthy.

Two qualities, enthusiasm and positive thinking, in other words, scoring low on the withdrawal aspect of neuroticism were the key factors for happiness. The traits most strongly linked to numerous measures of well being include; life satisfaction, self-acceptance, and a sense of mastery and direction in life.

What’s this have to do with exercise? The study sample size was small. Less than 200 participated. In addition, only 70% or so of the initial group completed the follow up survey at the end. So proof! Any meaningful data dissipated rapidly but Tony talked about it anyway. His graphic showed a bicycle rider. The picture reminded me that it is my favorite exercise. I wondered if it fit my personality traits.

I became interested in this so I found the Frontiers in Psychology website and started looking for the article itself. I couldn’t really find the article but it was a very small study. I found this reference to it in the Guardian. I misheard Tony. It was a University College of London study of 132 folks who were invited to join in a survey. The article is humorous.

I still like to ride on the bike trail by myself. Others like to ride in groups. I listen to music or a book or a podcast or the birds while I ride along. I prefer the aloneness of riding. When I was caring for Cheryl it took me away from the heartache of that activity. The summer after she died, it took my heart to a different place much like meditation. This summer it is hot but it has developed into a hobby and an interest that simply gets me outdoors.

I do not think I am neurotic. (I hope the Guardian link works.)

Carpe Diem.

Connections and Disconnections

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Mike has passed away, as polite or timid people say. I did not know him well. We had mutual employment at an old line Cincinnati company many years ago. I ran into him later on in life at some family gathering. He was married to the sister of my sister-in-law through marriage to my deceased wife’s brother. A third order connection to be sure but nevertheless I had known him in life. And I had known that he was dying. His death was unreported through whatever little grapevine I have left.

I felt an odd feeling of disconnectedness.

A couple of years ago I learned of my aunt’s death from the U. S. postal service. Not in the way that you might imagine. The USPS told me by returning my Christmas card that I had sent the previous December. The card returned sometime in March.

I remember feeling not anger but a disconnectedness. Perhaps a year or two previously I had called the only number I had to report the death of my mother to her only surviving sister. Aunt Ruth’s daughter my cousin Jean answered the phone. We had not talked to each other since childhood so I explained who I was and what I wanted to tell Aunt Ruth. (Maybe I had a little anger. I reached out to the west to report Mom’s death.) It was about a year and a half later that the postal service made their report to me.

I have thought about this disconnectedness that occurs in families before. There are many causes; distance both physical and mental, disinterest, religion, age, death.

When Mom was still alive and still moving around pretty good, I asked if she would like to go visit her sister Ruth. Aunt Ruth lived in Las Cruses New Mexico and they had lived there for a long time. She had met my Uncle Dick when they were both in the service. Uncle Dick had, among other duties, flown helicopters in Vietnam. They settled in New Mexico after he left the service. Mom and Dad had visited with them in a past life after I had moved out of their house and moved into our house with Cheryl.

Mom entertained that idea for a minute or so and replied no. I said, “Mom, what if I called her on the phone?” No. I did not press the plan. (Disinterest, distance)

Family connection would have possibly helped with the feeling of disconnectedness that I felt when Aunt Ruth’s card returned. I doubt that I would have mailed a card had I known of her death.

Family connection would have gone a long way towards removing the embarrassing, to me anyway, question of; Hey! I knew Mike was very ill. Did he die? (Not asked very well but how does one ask such a sad question?)

For a few months off and on after Aunt Ruth’s card returned I questioned my sister and poked around on social media and other ways of searching out information that did not require joining 23andMe. I was looking for connection to Aunt Ruth’s remaining daughters, my cousins.

Although I did spend money with one of those find anybody anywhere services, nothing came of it other than me forgetting to unsignup after the free trial period. Unilateral family connection is tiring and the lopsidedness of it is not satisfying.

Our church gave away these Easter books to hopefully enliven the catholicity of the parishes as they grow smaller. I admit that I am not the best Catholic. I fact I think of myself as a kind of Buddhist catholic who selects much of the spirituality but is uninterested in the rigor and seemingly arbitrary structure. I am still searching. For what I am searching, I am unsure but hope and optimism are more satisfying than longing and despair. Yesterday this little tome revealed itself amid the pile of books near my nesting spot in the living area. I opened it in the middle at random and this heading, “Love Rearranges Our Priorities” said – Read me. Read me!

It starts this way, “Have you ever noticed that when people fall in love, their priorities change? If a close friend falls in love, you will probably notice that she has less time to spend with you because her priority is to spend more time with her love interest. It is not personal. It is natural and normal. Why? Love rearranges our priorities. And our priorities reveal who and what we love.” The rest of the paragraphs wander off and talk about more churchy ideas but this first paragraph describes the whole lesson – love arranges our priorities.

I think the disconnectedness I feel is more aptly described as love’s focus is forward toward new connections. My priority is my new connection with Debbie. (The physics metaphor is – for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.) For every new connection there is a mostly equal disconnection. Or that is my newly philosophized personal canon. The rest of that thought is the mostly equal disconnection is unknown when the new connection is established. (I will need some time to wade though where those thoughts are taking me.)

Connections and interconnections within and without family groups are complicated. They are both weak and strong, sweet and savory, smooth and bumpy, happy and sad, multifaceted and lopsided. There is an odd disconnectedness feeling that I feel with Cheryl’s family. I feel a strong connectedness to my sister as we are the last of our core group. We are all very different in our abilities to connect and maintain those connections. I feel a strong connectedness with Debbie so much so that I ask her questions about her kiddos and her day and how she feels about this, what does she think about that. I have even reached out directly to her daughter (who is dealing with a never ending undiagnosable malady) for an update. That is either nosy or connection – the jury is still out.

Personal connection is not replaced by digital connection.

Looking forward and glancing in the rear view mirror is something I do consistently when I am riding my bicycle down the trail. It is or should be a metaphor for connecting down the trail of life.

Carpe Diem.

Gilgamesh

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Various lines left from the past for us to understand today.

Reading the editor’s notes in poetry magazine, I noted that she made reference to Gilgamesh. In my technical education I was not exposed much if at all old and ancient writings. This fact became apparent to me when I walked into take the MAT test cold while I was working on my M Ed. Over the past twenty years or so if someone made reference to some old work or an author with which or whom I was unfamiliar, my inclination is to find that work or another work by the same author to familiarize myself with the style.

So it is with Gilgamesh. I found a volume on Amazon.

“The strongest of men will fall to fate if he has no judgment.”

This lesson (take away) from the story of Gilgamesh has been translated from a Babylonian clay tablet that was carved 900ish years BCE. This is I think the earliest known discussion of the death of common sense.

Reading about Gilgamesh who is two thirds god and one third man running around chasing down Enkidu who was living the good life like Tarzan or the roman twins brought to light the quoted comment from the gods shown above.

It is a cobbled up story about how Enkidu came to be. As it turns out, Gilgamesh was a stinker running around grabbing stuff even if he did not need it. That activity tends to use up all your kudos and the people get grumpy about it. Common folk started looking for a way to get rid of Gilgamesh so they can be in peace. They – the people – were feeling jilted and put upon. (Good king Wenceslas has run amok.) They talked to their god(s) who then talked to another group of designer gods who got the creator god on the phone. She, her name is Aruru, was told by the design team, you messed that up (Gilgamesh) so fix it.

Aruru invented Enkidu so that Gilgamesh (Gil) would have a playmate and leave the regular folks out of it. To make it seem plausible Gil had to do more conquerings. (We do a similar thing today. If you get assigned a drug that has (a) crappy side effect(s) there is also a drug to treat the side effect(s).) The story goes on to tell about various conquerings after Gilgamesh and Enkidu become mates and spend time doing the random conquerings. They do not spend much time thinking about the consequences of their conquerings. Eventually stuff turns to crap because the infrastructure is not being maintained. The flood happens. Etc.

The book of Genesis seems to be the same story with a few more begats in it and a little more specificity instead of leaving the story of everything up to a few random gods. The term god means starter person. In the beginning there had to have been starter people. Those early folks who through random chance developed the fire gene.

Once they developed fire, the world went rapidly crazy from there. Food tasted better. Drinks were better. Try making whiskey with cold water. Or try making bread without an oven. Smelting metals from ore is especially hard to do without fire, a really hot one. Wars became easier to fight with spears and swords and knives and arrows. It was easier to hunt when the war was on pause. Better longer lasting food led to affluence which led to opulence which led to pondering the universe and the why of it all. Steam was invented and that got rid of that annoying job of rowing and rigging the sails when not rowing. On and on it goes.

These days there is AI (arbitrary innocence, automated ignorance, artificial intelligence, you pick) which allegedly will either save us or kill us all and the grumpy folks are talking (still) to the gods. Where is Aruru?

The strongest of men will fall to fate if he has no judgment.

Throughout man’s existence the smart money has been on the guys who looked at all sides of some action before leaping into it with both feet. Fate in this instance is random happenstance. Planning is important. Even with all the planning fate can jump up and bite you in the left cheek while you are moving by it.

Maybe it is true. Stories must be told and retold over and over and again and again.

Carpe Diem.

Cherry Tomatoes

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I came home last night with no more thoughts or inspiration other than remembering to put out the trash for the early morning pickup. Attached to the kitchen door of my condo was this ziplock bag of goodies fresh from our garden. My neighbor, Joe, had harvested our first two cherry tomatoes. (He kept one. Drat, But it is an endeavor for which he provides most if not all of the effort, so I celebrate that with him.)

I left it on the kitchen counter, put out the trash, read about Gilgamesh for awhile and went to bed. I had visited earlier with my son and my daughter-in-law and grandson Luke. I had not seen or talked to Luke for some time. (He is a long haul truck driver and spends a lot of time on the road.) Big gaps in time enable me to see how he has matured. Cruising the countryside in a big rig takes him to other places with new experiences. He is an intelligent mature man comfortable in his own skin. And I slept well.

I found this mature little tomato back this morning and celebrated its existence. I asked Copilot – a fun thingy on this laptop – to write an ode to this lowly tomato. It gave me this:

Ah, noble tomato, blushing on the vine,  
First jewel of summer, how proudly you shine!  
You rise from earth with unassuming grace,  
Green shoulders sun-kissed, red with pride of place.  

Not yet a bushel, just one brave lone flame,  
The garden’s herald, whispered in by rain.  
A promise in pulp, in seeds tightly curled,  
You carry the sun and scent of the world.  

Your skin so taut, like hope held in suspense—  
We wait for your fall with mouths, not pretense.  
For in your flesh lives warmth, both sweet and tart,  
A tangy hymn sung straight to the heart.  

Let poets chase roses that bloom and fade,  
I toast you instead, in salad or braid—  
Sliced on warm bread with salt like a spell,  
You speak in flavors no words dare to tell.  

So here’s to you, red comet on the stem,  
First of your kind, a botanical gem.  
The season begins when you ripen bold—  
A lowly fruit, and a miracle told.

Kind of corny. This sounds a little like Willy Shakesperson with his panties in a wad. But Copilot cannot understand whether it is talking about a fruit or a girl friend. It picked both. It swings both ways.

I decided to celebrate the tomatoes existence with breakfast. Scrambled eggs, toast, bacon and skillet potatoes which is the reason – I am certain of this – why God added fat to bacon. Potatoes and onions are much better fried up in the leftover bacon fat.

I know. I hear you. I am a very religious guy when it comes to observations like these. We all know that the good things come from God. He sent those animals with cloven hooves here to cook the potatoes. (Potatoes fried in beef tallow are pretty good also.) Amen to that!

I wrote a text to my neighbor, Joe, thanking him. I also reported that there only enough for a garnish,

Burp. Sorry.

Carpe (well fed) Diem.

Gnats

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A gnat is any of several species of small flying insects that magically appear in the late spring and stick around until late autumn. Here and there they show up without seemingly any help from anyone. It is truly magical. Tiny life, once not here and then here.

I thought of this while waiting for the Nespresso to complete this morning. I was watching one of God’s creatures hop across the kitchen counter nearby as my cup was filling. To be honest, I was focused on whether it was a gnat or one of the floaters that occasionally appear in my vision. Gnat it was.

Imagine the world we live in from the view of the gnat. Big does not begin to describe it.

Imagine your universe … big does not…

This is the kind of thought experiment that I have when I allow myself to do it. We are all here doing the same thing. – Eat, survive, stay alive, reproduce. Why do we spend so much time getting in front of each other? If the hope was I would answer this question so that it could be rebutted with opulent dismissiveness, I cannot. I cannot answer why many are willing to advance unwanted or unasked for interference. I cannot answer why we cannot merely be present for each other.

Gnat is a term that means small fly. There are many species of tiny insects that are referred to as gnats in a general sense. Gnat is a generic term. Gnat is a stereotypical term. Stereotypes are assessments of a small group and extension of those assumptions to a larger group with a bias toward that larger group. The bias often comes from a sense of envy.

In the New Testament there is a story about an owner of an olive grove who hires day labor several times a day to pick his olives. At the end of the day the guys who worked all day became grumpy that they were not paid more than the guys that had only picked olives for a couple hours. They expected their deal to change simply because the olive grove owner was generous to the late comers. The early group was envious of the late comers good fortune.

Envy is a powerful force in life. Envy is all mental. The guys who worked all day could have celebrated the two hour workers’ good fortune instead of mourning their own perceived misfortune but they did not. They chose to be grumpy. The olive grove owner admonished them for their grumpiness.

Everywhere in the world people, animals, insects, plants, fungi are doing the same thing – eat, survive, stay alive, reproduce. Seemingly not recognizing that our fellow people, animals, insects, plants, fungi are doing the same. Recognizing that we are all doing the same thing in life brings peace to the soul. Some would call that woke, a slang term that intends to demean the idea of compassion for our fellow man. Peace only comes with the awareness of the needs of others.

We are all human on Earth with the same needs.

We are all gnats or smaller in the universe. Our needs do not change nor do others.

Carpe Diem.

Ted Lasso

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I really do hate admitting that Debbie is right. It is a feeling that I do not think is unique to her. I felt the same towards Cheryl. It seems a man thing to me.

She told me that I would like Ted Lasso. I think I was resistant on principle. It had little to do with the actual show. Just the fact that she said you are going to like it, made me resistant. She is right. Streaming it is better because I can keep watching episodes while doing less interesting duties such as laundry.

When Cheryl was still alive and home with me I tended to bury my day with a lot of chores that come with taking care of a person with ill health. Now that it is just me those chores are easy to ignore for longer. There are less of them. That is another fact of me, myself and I. There are some days when I have less get up and go, less vim and vigor, less energy.

Ted Lasso reminds me of Mom and her “Monday, bloody Monday” attitude about the first christian working day in the week. His wild enthusiasm starting the morning is incredible to those around him. He can be too much and at the same time infectious. He also does not allow others to help him. It is an infectious show. Ted is able to help and influence all of those around him.

But that is not the story here. Ted Lasso is a metaphor for us all. In his world there is happiness, sadness, love revenge, vindictiveness, ego, ambivalence, scurrilousness maybe a little unscrupulousness tossed in to balance the spices. About a year ago, a few months after Cheryl’s soul left her body, I was feeling a little better. I bought a new bike and started riding it in earnest. It got me out of the condo and into the sunshine. I spent 3 – 4 days a week riding the Little Miami Trail. I put my bike on the back of the car and kept it there. In my mind maybe a trail would pop up and I would ride it. That “go ride at a moments notice” became my occupation and passion. It took over the emptiness I felt from Cheryl’s moving on.

In October of last year I met a woman because of a mutual acquaintance with a friend from church. Lately we have been having an off-the-wall discussion about what to call our relationship. My cousin likes the term Life Partner which although descriptive is less so in our case. Labels are interesting in their implications.

This Spring and almost summer season is not cooperating weather-wise and I have not ridden as much as I would like. So, I have filled several empty hours thinking about Debbie and where we are going. It is a recurring thought theme. That particular thought thread strings my thoughts into what is my purpose? I imagine most older adults think about this issue.

I do not spend much time with it. Sitting here at my desk writing, there is a copy of Cheryl’s picture that was published in the newspaper as a part of news of our engagement. She is a beautiful young woman in that picture. The photographer did a great job of posing and lighting her face.

I wonder how she is doing. Ted Lasso reminds me that there are somethings that cannot be known.

Carpe Diem.