I’m the sort of person who accidentally puts two lids on a take-out coffee and doesn’t notice. I wonder if my coworker noticed?
I’ve always been like this, but it’s not getting any better with age.
Category: 2018
Update about Robert
I know you are all wondering how Robert is doing, and I’m sorry to only have more extremely sad news.
Robert has quit going to all medical appointments and has cut himself off from his family. He is not responding to any attempts to contact him. His parents finally had to request a police welfare check. He was, at that time (about a week ago), still alive.
We are all so helpless. I’ve encouraged the kids to continue to reach out to Kristy (Robert’s mom) because right now they’re the only kids she’s got. I don’t even feel like I can do that, because I’m just her husband’s ex.
It makes me cry every time I think about it.
The 2-house problem
A few weekends ago I had a short bout of fairly bad depression (I cried for about 4 days). A couple of things have come out of that. First, I’ve been exercising more, which definitely helps. Secondly, John has come up with a potential improvement to the 2-house problem. It’s not a perfect solution. There is no perfect solution because our jobs are 70 miles apart.
Earlier this fall I was looking for houses near the river in Albuquerque. The river valley is the most beautiful area of New Mexico, in my opinion. It’s green in the spring and summer, and in the fall the trees are beautiful. Those areas are within a short commuting distance from John’s job, but is too far for me to commute to my current job. I would have to find a new job.
I feel confident about my ability to find a new job, but I like my current job. And I also feel a certain responsibility to my team. And I’ve had a lot of jobs I haven’t liked. I know I can find a job, but can I find another job I like?
So now John is advocating an area called Eldorado. It’s a flat, brown, desert mesa outside of Santa Fe. He likes it because there’s long walking trails that we appreciate for jogging, dog walking, and biking. Also it’s rural; most of the roads are dirt, and the lot sizes are mostly 1-2 acres. Eldorado is actually a lot like Placitas except flatter, and it doesn’t have the big expensive homes. It’s an affordable section of Santa Fe because there’s no trees; it’s not in the foothills to the east of Santa Fe, nor is it close-in near the Old Town Plaza where all the rich celebrities with big second homes want to be.
Here’s an example of how Eldorado looks from above:
In contrast, here’s how the North Valley and Corrales looks along the river;
Here’s a random screenshot of Eldorado in google street view. Of course that’s summertime; the absolute greenest it gets. It’s just all brown now.
I don’t find it inspiring, but the main problem is that Eldorado is 70 miles from where John works. At first he was thinking he could do that commute, and I’m like, no. Hell no. That’s almost 3 hours on the freeway each day. There’s no way. He’s going to need to have somewhere to stay in Albuquerque for mid-week.
If we do still need to have 2 houses, we have realized it makes more sense for the main house to be near my job than near his. For one thing, he is more comfortable with a certain amount of commuting than I am. He also lives out of a suitcase better than I do. I seem to think I need an entire closetful of clothes, matching shoes, matching jewelry, matching scarves, and matching coats for the week, and I’m still missing things. I also seem to need an entire kitchen full of fresh organic food and multiple small kitchen appliances. He eats cereal with sunflower butter.
So we’re thinking that if we can get his vehicles and garage tools into the same house as my wardrobe and kitchen gadgets, we’ll actually feel like we’re living together. Unfortunately, when buying my townhome in Santa Fe, it didn’t occur to me to prioritize garage space. So that’s where Eldorado comes in. Lots of space to park the boat, the camper van, the 4Runner, the old truck, and the Mini, and all the mysterious stuff that’s in his garage in Placitas.
I still just want to move to Mexico, but he is not currently taking me seriously when I say that. I’m probably not taking myself seriously when I say that either. We can’t afford to retire in this country and move to Austin or Tucson or somewhere warm and be done with the rat race. The main problem is that his pension doesn’t come with medical coverage. And medical is such a wild card in the US. You can’t budget for it.
Funny poems from New Yorker
When Are You Planning to Turn Off Your Kindle?
They say love is light.
I think they do.
I’m not really sure.
I might have heard that in a Subaru commercial.
The point is that I see your light right now.
And I wish I didn’t.
Because I’m really tired.
And I had a long day.
And I have to get up early tomorrow.
All of which you know.
Another thing they say is that a man can know something but forget it almost instantly.
Like a goldfish.
I sigh the sigh I sigh when I’m annoyed.
But you don’t hear me.
Because you have earbuds in.
And are watching what appears to be a video of people bodysurfing on pudding.
And here I thought you were reading a book.
Maybe love is like light.
In that it can fade.
Seriously. Would it kill you to watch that in the bathroom?
Orgy
Autumn.
Overcast and cool.
Woodsmoke-scented air.
Leaves in the yard.
We decided to go out back
among the tall hedgerows to rake and bag the leaves.
You said, in a very sexy voice,
“We’re out of garbage bags.”
And in your shrugging I might have seen
your breasts move,
Had they not been covered by
your fleece sweatshirt,
your work shirt,
and your T-shirt.
“Well, I’m going in,” you said.
Later, we heated up Dinty Moore beef stew
and then you went to bed.
I watched half a Jason Bourne movie.
Did I say orgy?
Sorry, my mind wandered.
I meant yard work.
Date Night
Who are you . . .
What?
. . . texting. I was just wondering . . .
Sorry. What?
You’re texting and I just . . .
Client. Wait. They’re changing a . . .
What?
Meeting. Tomorrow now.
Oh, O.K. Well, I guess I’ll check . . .
Done. So, who are you . . .
One second. Sorry. Fuck.
Work?
What?
Is it work?
Wait. I told them where the file was.
Who?
What?
Nothing.
Damn it. It’s on the thumb drive. They know that . . .
What is?
What?
Nothing.
This restaurant is nice.
What?
Is This the Right Time for That?
Standing at the door
ready to go,
tapping my foot.
(We are late for my sister’s surprise party.)
I turn and see you
in the kitchen,
like a man on a summer afternoon by a lake
casually adjusting a fishing rod.
Only it’s not a fishing rod.
It’s fingernail clippers.
And you are cutting your fingernails
over the sink.
You look up, and perhaps because of the expression on my face
you say, “What?”
It would be impossible for me to explain
if you don’t already understand.
Are You in the Mood?
I am.
Let’s put the kids down.
Have a light dinner.
Shower.
Maybe not drink so much.
And do that thing I would rather do with you than with anyone else.
Lie in bed and look at our iPhones. ♦
Correction
John just read my last post and is horrified that I called a floating sculpture of a largemouth bass a “carp statue”. Whatever. It doesn’t seem to me like the object of art is good enough to definitively call anything other than “probably a fish.” But apparently it’s not a carp 😉
More about Austin
When we first got to Austin on Friday afternoon, we decided to go for a walk on a local hiking trail. We hopped in the van, drove a couple of miles, and parked in a “Best Buy” parking lot. I was dubious. Where are we? Why are we here? Why aren’t we at a trailhead?
John said all we need to do is walk past the enormous liquor store and then along the road for less than a block and there it will be. Meanwhile 3 lanes of traffic crawled bumper to bumper trying to get onto the freeway whizzing overhead. This was not an auspicious start to a hike.
So we walked along the busy road, past a concrete water detention basin and suddenly we were here, and it was beautiful.
I was somewhat taken aback by the chain link fence topped with razor wire but that disappeared after a hundred yards or so. And then the only way you could tell you weren’t deep in the woods was the freeway noise.
It was a heavily used trail, but most of the dogs were leashed. And there wasn’t any dog poop anywhere, which sort of astounded me. So did the beautiful creek that most people seemed to take for granted.
The cactus thriving in the mud among the oaks seemed odd too.
The whole trail was very beautiful.
We walked back along the freeway frontage road to the Best Buy parking lot as it was getting dark.
The next morning we took our bikes down to the trail around Lady Bird Lake. It was a stunning Saturday morning, and half of Austin was down there. I found the bicycling quite challenging, weaving in and out of all the different people and their conveyances. Joggers with kids in strollers and dogs on leashes, and dogs in strollers and kids in carriers, people with canes and walkers, people in large groups, all going different speeds.
Here’s my initial impression of Austin-tonians or whatever they call themselves. (I just looked it up, apparently it’s Austinites.) First, they seem very diverse. It’s not just that one family looks one way and another family looks another way. The diversity is within the families.
It almost felt like Austin was ahead of San Francisco in the tolerance wars, because there seemed to be a comfort level in Austin that just took diversity for granted. Like they weren’t fighting anymore because there was no need to fight anymore. Like the shift had finally happened and it was no longer an issue and there was no longer anything that needed asserted or proved. Unfortunately, I’m sure there are still tensions; I’m not that naïve. But from a surface, outsider’s point of view, everyone seemed very comfortable with gender and racial configurations that did not conform to traditional expectations. Maybe they’re just more polite about it.
Secondly, the dogs are part of the families in an intense way. I saw dogs in backpacks, dogs in baby slings, dogs in strollers, dogs in baby carriers towed behind bicycles, handicapped dogs in hind-quarter wheelchairs, dogs strapped to people’s waists, dogs strapped to people’s bikes, dogs strapped to people’s wrist, dog’s strapped to people’s children…and no dogs peeing or pooping anywhere. I want one of those Austin dogs that doesn’t pee and poop in public. In Singapore it’s illegal to allow your dog to let loose in public. In Austin it’s apparently at least considered in poor taste.
Oh, and one more funny thing. Austin is quite a large city (maybe about 2 million?), and I almost never heard any cars honking. Probably the quietest big-city traffic I’ve ever experienced. Except when they did honk. Every once in awhile someone would finally get pissed enough to honk, and then oh boy. They LEANED on that horn. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK. It went on so long I thought that horn would surely run out of air, like a saxophonist drawing that last note out so long it makes you hyperventilate for him.
After biking, we ate lunch at a lakeside cafe. Here’s what came up when I put the generic word “restaurants” into my map app. This is probably not the results you’d get in most parts of Texas (just guessing). What is “Japanese soul food”? And “Eco-chic”? I understand”Health-conscious”. But is “Bohemian vegetarian” any different than regular vegetarian? Apparently “Veggie Heaven” is vegan. Is it called that because all the veggie’s died?
We liked the place we ended up at on the water, because we both love marinas. Plus, fish tacos.
It probably doesn’t look like tacos because they’re “open face”. There’s a couple of tortillas lurking underneath all that fish, salad and rice.
It was warm, but clouding up and getting windy.
That is some sort of enormous carp statue. I was a bit baffled by it. It seemed pretty tacky. I’m sure it has a story. 
These are the guest docks. I guess we didn’t take any photos of the actual marina.
We’re home now, and already missing Austin.
Austin is Awesome
Isn’t that a great picture? And I just snapped it fast with my cell phone while stopped for a second on a bike ride.
Like, I could have stood there and taken the same awesome picture all day long.
But actually, instead I took about a million pictures of trees.
Here I’m pretending to take pictures of the skyline, but I’m actually taking pictures of trees.
Oh, ok, here’s more of the skyline.
My guidebook, when recommending what season to go, says “Sept-Nov: You won’t see any fall foliage, but temperatures will have cooled by now.” I don’t know what they mean by “won’t see any fall foliage,” but obviously they weren’t writing for tourists from the high desert.
All I did was take pictures of trees.
Oh, and the obligatory selfie:
And the obligatory portrait in the portrait spot, where everyone was politely taking turns and offering to take pictures of each other like in Japan. The lighting wasn’t good, but this was apparently THE place to get the picture.
Next we went to the botanical gardens and I took more pictures of trees.
You probably think this is the entrance to the botanical garden, but I’m actually taking a picture of that tree.
Look, even the parking lot has excellent trees.
More trees
OK, not a tree.
Trees
Trees
Trees
Trees (with skyline in background)
Trees!!! (Oh, yeah, and my husband)
Trees!!!
Little tree
What does the guidebook mean, no fall foliage?
Bamboo for Laura:
Fish for John:
Trees!!!
You might think I’m taking a picture of a pond, but it’s actually of trees.
Ok, it’s not a tree. It’s a cat with a leaf on it.
Now it looks like I’m taking pictures of a red blacksmith’s shop, but actually it just happens to be in the trees.
And a cabin.
These next two were taken through the cabin windows, which is why you see trees reflecting at the top of the photos.
Trees!
Contemplating Prejudice and Fear on Thanksgiving Day
(parental discretion advised – difficult topics)
I’ve been getting out to jog at dawn every morning this week, just like I said I would in my recent post about winter blues! Even Thanksgiving morning!
I stuck to my regular early morning schedule on Thanksgiving because I had things to do and places to go. John and I were heading to Texas for the long weekend. After jogging, my agenda was to get my truck loaded with my travel bags and drive down to Placitas, where he was waiting with the camper van.
Once out on my jogging trail, I realized that the first light of dawn was darker than normal because of cloud cover. I’m a bit nearsighted and was jogging without any corrective lenses. So it was dim and vague out there.
The second thing I realized was I was the only one on the trail. Usually there’s several joggers and dog-walkers around, hurrying to get out before the workday starts. But with most people not having to rush to work on Thanksgiving, they were apparently figuring their dogs could wait for their walk until it wasn’t quite so dark and freezing. If I were a big guy, maybe I would have enjoyed having the early morning trail to myself. But as a myopic, middle-aged female I was feeling vulnerable in the dim light.
Then I saw a man up ahead on the trail turn and look at me. I’ve never seen him before. A dark-skinned young male in a hoodie sweatshirt. I’m instantly on the alert. He moves into the bushes along the trail and crouches down out of sight. Oh god.
My mind is racing. I’ve got to turn around immediately, pick up my speed and get to the break in the fence where I can get into the subdivision. No, actually, I’ve just passed the fire station. Excellent. There’s EMT’s there 24/7. If I dash straight through the brush and cactus, I could be there in less than a minute. How do I get the EMT’s attention? Do fire stations have doorbells?
Oh wait. Is that a pitbull? Ok, good sign. A man with a dog is much less threatening than a man without a dog. And on a leash? That pitbull is leashed! Such relief! It’s not that I’m afraid of pitbulls. It’s that the type of owner who leashes their dogs is someone who generally observes social conventions (and will probably not leap out of bushes to attack middle aged women).
He’s got second dog! A cute long-haired black and white spaniel with a curly tail. Also leashed. I love spaniels, they’re such friendly dogs. Then the guy stands up and puts a neon green doggie poo bag into the trash can!
Now I’m thinking, Ooooh, look at that hot dude. This guy’s up early to walk his dogs. Poop scooping when it’s not even deposited on the trail. He’s a catch all right. Total. Marriage. Material.
As I cruise by with a slight nod and a mumbled “morning,” I realize that the spaniel has a bright pink leash. That’s a woman’s dog. This hot-looking guy is TAKEN. He’s out there at the crack of dawn walking her dog for her so she can sleep in on Thanksgiving morning. That’s exactly the sort of thing John does. What a perfect guy.
So now John knows why I insist that Rosie and Kira have pink and purple leashes. Because if it were up to John, our dogs would all just have black leashes, which would be much simpler than having to figure out which brightly-colored leash goes to which dog. But a guy with dogs on pink and purple leashes? HE’S NOT AVAILABLE. Sorry all you bitches, he’s mine.
It’s all about signaling, right?
Speaking of fear, prejudice, and signaling, let me digress and talk a moment about public restrooms. You know what I want? When I walk into a women’s restroom, I want everyone in there looking like they could plausibly be female. I don’t care what their chromosomes are, I don’t care what their hormones are, I don’t even care what’s in their pants. In fact, I really DON’T want to know what’s in their pants. I just don’t want to see a full beard. Just make a decent effort to make it seem like everything is as it should be. Signaling matters.
What if some perv dresses up as a women to prey on them? Yes, that could happen, but that’s always been possible throughout history. Being tolerant of trans issues would in no way increase the risk of that. Anyway what’s the likelihood of being attacked in a restroom?
Don’t we realize where women mostly get sexually assaulted? In their own homes by their own close friends and family members. Boyfriends. Spouses. Fathers. Grandfathers. Brothers. Uncles. What are we going do about that? For starters, we have to stop arguing about stupid things and start talking about things that matter.
I’m all for the #metoo movement, because as a society we need to talk about workplace harassment. And I’m really glad the Catholic church is no longer above the law. And we’re finally starting to admit that date rape is actually rape. But when is the last time any of us were in a comfortable, open, nuanced discussion about incest? Can we even read that word without wincing?
Why do we think we don’t know anyone who has experienced incest? Well, we do. I will guarantee we all know more than one. Probably several. Statistics are hard to come by because people don’t even talk about this to their own therapists, much less check the box on the medical intake form (and most medical intake forms don’t even ask), or respond to non-existent surveys.
Has anyone ever asked you if you experienced incest? Then how is society going to know? We’re not being counted. Even if some researcher somewhere got concerned enough to send a survey, then what? Who is going to leave that survey sitting around on the kitchen counter until they get around to filling it out, sticking a stamp on it and sending it in? Oh, that’s just mommy’s survey, no you can’t use it to make a paper airplane.
Do we think incest only happens to occasional publicity-seeking celebrities or random nut cases? The best studies say conservatively 1 in 10 women, probably higher. I’m not talking about some other country. I’m talking about middle class, educated, white Americans. Little girls, little boys, and adults too. So yes, we know them. We probably know a lot of them. Some of our coworkers, some of our neighbors. Friends we’ve known for years.
When is the last time anyone’s published a reasoned, thoughtful mainstream media article about incest? Until we start OPENLY talking about the sexual assault going on in middle class American homes, we have a long way to go yet for women’s – or anyone’s – equality.
Speaking of Smoke
Here’s an article my uncle wrote:
https://www.eastbayexpress.com/oakland/californias-nightmare/Content?oid=22985308&fbclid=IwAR2MvU_uOYBurQ9eJBpT5G0EroyeX3NUvXfkttuBv-WLUrkyCfFf3XhrSpA
It’s all about the interconnection between urban planning, housing, and the environment (some of my favorite topics, since I have an MS in Environmental Science and Regional Planning, and a BS in Geography, specifically, natural resource management).
(Thanks, Laura, for sending me the article.)
Still Smoke
Here is a link to an excellent animated smoke map that John sent me. It’s very cool. Scroll down past the first map, to the second black one.
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2018/11/16/upshot/california-smoke-map.html
Here’s a screenshot, but it’s best to click the link above to see the animation effect as it progresses through several days.
That animation only goes from Nov. 12 – 19, but it is still smoky. Here is today’s smoke extent from Airnow.gov.
On Friday Laura and Alex left the Bay Area and are down in Santa Maria, which is near the coast about halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles, between San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara. They are lucky they both have computer jobs and were allowed to work remotely.