July 2020 – Turning51

A message from Darren

This post is by Darren, and I’m very happy to post it for him. I haven’t changed anything except to italicize his words and add a couple of paragraph breaks for readability in blog format.

I’ve put this off for far too long.

To some of you this may come as a surprise. Others may have seen this coming a mile away.

Studies have shown that autistic individuals are 4 times as likely as neurotypicals to identify as LGBT. Current studies don’t make it clear if this is due to differences in hormone levels or some other biological or chemical difference, or if we’re simply more likely to defy rules and social constructs we see as stupid.

I identify as pangender. That falls under the umbrella of transsexual, the T in LGBT. I also identify as asexual, the A in LGBTQIA. I also identify as demiromantic, which is on the aromantic spectrum and also part of the A.

When I came out to my pastor, he loaned me a book called “Gender Ideology: What every Christian needs to know.” This book claims that gender is the same as sex as purely defined by X and Y chromosomes, and that any claim to the contrary is a rejection of God’s plan, denial of reality, mental illness, and lies of the devil. The book is therefore in favor of gender conversion therapy. The official Baptist Faith and Message, while not as detailed or explicit, holds the same view.

While I have not found the flaws in the theology, the book’s claims of science are nothing but pseudo-science. Pseudo-science only seeks to prove things, which you can easily do by picking and choosing what evidence you’re looking at. Real science looks to create theories that can be disproven, and only by failing to disprove a theory, or failing to prove the null hypothesis, can you be sure of your theory.

Decades ago, humanity set out with the questions “We know women/black people are inferior, but how are they inferior?” Because they asked a leading question, they were able to scientifically “prove” that women and people of color are inferior, even though we have since proven that they aren’t. This book is no more scientific. The book likes to cite ISNA, the Intersex Society of North America. But the section of the book where they break down DNA and assign gender (XX= female, XY = male, XXY = male, etc.) isn’t cited. Why? Because ISNA provides strong evidence to the contrary (https://isna.org/faq/y_chromosome/).

Furthermore, the books claims that gender conversion therapy was discontinued and gender identity disorder changed to gender dysphoria was cultural and political, not scientific, is not backed by the official statement from the American Psychiatric Association (APA) or The National Association of Social Workers (NASW). “The stigmatization of LGBT persons creates a threat to the health and well-being of those affected which, in turn, produces the social climate that pressures some people to seek change in sexual orientation or gender identity (Haldeman, D.,1994; HRC, 2015). However, no data demonstrate that SOCE or reparative therapy or conversion therapy is effective, rather have succeeded only in short term reduction of same-sex sexual behavior and negatively impact the mental health and self-esteem of the individual (Davison, G., 1991; Haldeman, D., 1994, APA, 2009). The NASW National Committee on Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Issues believes that SOCE can negatively affect one’s mental health and cannot and will not change sexual orientation or gender identity”

Once humans notice a pattern, our brains look for confirmation of the pattern and tend to disregard things that don’t fit the pattern. These are useful cognitive tools, until they aren’t. So, we notice that girls cry more…that’s literally true… but then we say stuff like “women are more emotional” (not as true). Testosterone levels inhibit certain aspects of crying, as do hormones that both men and women have, but women have in greater quantity that relate to lactation. Men also have larger tear ducts, so their tears go down their nasal cavity more easily and are less likely to spill over onto their cheeks. We take these differences as signs that “men are ___” and “women are ___”. That’s a pattern, and then our brains look for evidence that the pattern is correct and ignores evidence that it is not (all this happens below the level of awareness; we’re not doing that on purpose, it’s just how brains work).

Our schema of swans only includes white swans until we come across black swans. We then either need to change our schema of what swans are or find a way to disregard the non-white swans. Rationalization, initially, takes less energy than changing the schema, so we usually start there. Eventually, with enough evidence, we might be forced to confront our schema and modify them a bit. The result of all of that is that we overcouple a trait possessed by all/most/many people to a subgroup of humans.

We like things to be black and white, we don’t like shades of gray. So, we take human characteristics, and arbitrarily divvy them up. Only women are allowed to be emotional, only men are allowed to be strong. How do we convince men to join the military or force women to play certain roles? By telling them that it’s part of there identity. This same need for order and homogeneity is what leads to racism, ableism, and all sorts of issues.

But as a pangender, asexual, demiromantic, autistic adult who stutters, this creates all sorts of problems for me. Being a member of any group is about joining together around common goals or values. Religion theoretically exists to unite people around religious values (so, love and serve God and the community). Every piece of energy I give to anxiety about the group or my role within the group is energy I can’t give to the common goal. It’s a bandwidth problem. We only have some much energy and attention and give-a-darn to give, and if you’re putting all your spoons into not looking weird, not making people uncomfortable, etc., it’s going be hard to focus on love and service.

We all have to put some energy into group cohesion and therefore making ourselves and other people comfortable, but if we’re spending too much time and energy on fitting in, we can’t be productive. If I’m spending all my energy on following the rules and compromising on who I am in order to fit in, then I can’t serve God or my community. For the sake of my mental health and my ability to pursue my goals, I need to be able to find I place where I belong, and I can be my authentic self.

Therefore, I have come to the realization that I must leave the Baptist church. To do anything else would be self-destructive and interfere with my ability to serve God.

Wow. This is an impressive piece and I appreciate Darren allowing me to reprint it.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com (And if you would like to send Darren a comment and don’t have his email, I can forward it to him for you.)

Saving the Cactus

John and I were on a neighborhood walk over the weekend when we spotted a neighbor cutting down his cactus.

By chance, I had taken photos of it last month when it was in bloom (it’s on our daily walking route).

It was a beautiful thornless prickly pear.

I have no idea why they chopped it down, maybe they don’t like bees? He was still out there working on it when we walked by, so I asked him if we could have some of the cuttings and he said sure. It should root fine. We came back with our pickup truck and a couple of bins and took more than we needed. There was so much! He had scattered it all along the outside of his wall near the walking trail.

Here’s John collecting some. Note his mask; even outside with no one around, it’s the law here.

There’s so much cactus! It had been a huge and glorious specimen.

A friend of mine came down and got some too. Remember when I put a greeting card in a neighbor’s mailbox even though I didn’t even know her name? John thought I was crazy. Well, now she and I are email-pen-pals. She lives just up the street from the cactus guy, and I know she loves plants, so I emailed her to let her know.

John planted them all over the front yard, which we haven’t put much effort into yet, so is mostly just rock. We have plans to add more native plants, such as different kinds of cactus, as well as desert willow and similar drought-resistant plants.

After scattering them around the front yard, he put the extras in pots for now. We’ll have to see how they do. (Locals, let me know if you want a thornless prickly pear!)

That same afternoon our internet quit. We were sure it wasn’t our modem, so we managed to talk Comcast into sending out a repair technician. Turns out instead of having a robust cable buried deep in a conduit, we just had a flimsy line, a few inches below the rock.

John had managed to cut the line while planting cactus, without even realizing it. (Isn’t that a cute little cactus? It looks like an alien!)

The technician installed another flimsy line as a temporary measure, so now we have internet again. They want to trench 18″ deep and lay new cable in a conduit, which is the more modern method.

But John is dubious, because it would be a lot of trenching. It would need to run from the street, under our driveway, and all the way up the side of our house. He doesn’t trust them to do it without killing an evergreen we have on that side of the house, or messing up the driveway, or something. Who trusts Comcast? So we’ll see. It’s always something!

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com

Masks

New Mexico is one of the few states that require masks to be worn whenever we’re outside our own homes. Masks are required regardless of whether we can socially distance, for all public spaces, indoors AND outdoors. To be ultimately clear, our regulations specifically state: even while exercising outdoors.

It’s a bit ironic, because we’re one of the most rural states in the nation. So John’s out there jogging alone in the desert at 6:30 am, with a sight distance of several miles, with no one in sight for at least a quarter of a mile, and masks are required. Meanwhile, dumb-asses are holding parties (mostly in nearby states, in our opinion).

We have handmade masks, made by friends and family (thank you). I have two that have a metal strip between the layers, which can be shaped to keep the mask from sliding down your nose.

I also have a cool patterned one.

John made his own gray ones.

He put a little slider bead on the elastic so he can adjust them. That’s what happens when you let an engineer loose with your sewing machine.

I can sew too, but when all this started immediately after my cancer surgery, I could barely sit, much less focus, so I appreciate friends and family making mine for me.

We eventually found one, very old, N95 mask. John had bought it many years ago, for a long-forgotten remodel project, probably involving lots of dust or solvents. He dug it out of some box in the garage somewhere, it somehow having managed to survive several moves halfway across the country and back.

We save it to use when risks are higher, such as the occasional times when he has to go into work. Even though we treat it carefully, the rubber elastic wore out. Here’s John replacing the elastic.

In some ways this seems like a very boring, mundane post. But just imagine this time a year ago. If you would have told me that we would be carefully changing out the elastic on a throw-away mask from the depths of some dusty box in the garage, I would have been, “huh?!?”

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com

Chances and the bucket list

This blog post is going to be more on the serious side. It’s difficult to write (and may be hard to read), but I decided I really do want to write about this.

I finished my cancer treatment. Now what? During treatment, I was pretty much just focused on getting through the treatment. We had to figure out where to have the surgery, we had to get out there (Boston), we had to get into the system, get set up at Emily’s house, get records sent, get seen by doctors, get more tests, get the surgery scheduled and get it done before the hospitals were overrun by COVID patients and quit doing elective surgery (anything that is scheduled, including cancer surgery, is considered elective).

After the surgery I was basically incapable doing anything, or even thinking very hard about anything for awhile. The chemo treatments were rough. All through that struggle, I hadn’t really thought a lot about my long-term future.

I am relieved to be through the treatment stage. Now that it’s behind me, I’m starting to look forward. But I’m not fully and unconditionally celebrating. That’s because the likelihood that the cancer would come back is actually fairly high.

I haven’t mentioned the statistics before, although some of you may have googled it because I have given you specifics about my diagnosis before; Stage 3 colorectal cancer, T3N1. It appears that I’ve got about 60% chance that I’m completely cured of this cancer. And about 40% chance that it will come back within the next few years.

Average statistics are strange when applied to an individual. For me, it’s not 60/40. For me, it’s either going to come back or it isn’t. If it does come back, the average survival rate is very low. Maybe like 5%. All together, my current chances of dying within the next few years of cancer is about 35%. So dying soon is not the most likely outcome, but it’s actually reasonably likely. One in three.

Generally, I think it’s healthiest to assume the best. Most of us live most of our lives as if we will live forever. But I also think that it would be smart of me to put some thought into the question of – what if I only have one or two good years left? What if I won’t be here in 5 years? What would I do differently? Should I actually start doing those things now, while I can? Something that’s 35% likely to happen – seems like it might be wise to do a little planning for the possibility.

I don’t have a bucket list. I enjoy doing fun things in life, but I’ve never felt like I had to see Paris or the Galapagos Islands, or had to try sky diving. I also don’t have a big career goal or other life endeavor to finish. My children are grown and doing well.

I coach a few clients, and they are important to me, and I feel like what I do is meaningful. But the clients come and go. They work with me for several weeks or months or a year or two, they make progress (almost always they do make progress), and then they go on and do other things. There’s no endpoint or big project completion for me; the clients just cycle through.

I like camping and hiking, sailing and kayaking. I like meeting friends for lunch at cute little cafés. Outdoor patios have been my favorite for decades, long before COVID changed our opinion about eating indoors with strangers. I like music concerts and botanical gardens and walking on the beach. I like sitting in my own backyard with friends and family.

Prior to cancer I had planned to meet a Bay Area friend in Palm Springs and then we were going to go to the Bay Area together. I had planned to spend some time with Laura, getting rained on and looking at early spring flowers, just like we did the previous year. I had been thinking about visiting northern relatives in the summer. I also had wanted to make it out to the Pacific ocean, which is at its best in late summer. Late summer is also when Laura’s huge, old fig tree goes bonkers and I had wanted to make it out to Laura’s house to help her dry and preserve her yummy figs.

I don’t have ambitious goals. I’m not even sure how to write a bucket list. Before I die, I want to…what? Stay at a bed and breakfast in Taos? Hike in the Gila mountains? That doesn’t sound bucket-list-worthy.

I’m thinking maybe:

Make cookies more often.
Throw out that dish soap that I hate the smell of, rather than continue slowly trying to use it up.
Buy that ridiculously brightly-colored braid rug that will look good absolutely nowhere.
Order East Indian take-out more often.

What kind of bucket list is that? Maybe I should just pick something that sounds bucket-list-ish. A trip to Barcelona sounds good. Or Phuket? I don’t know. I made a joke about the Seychelles recently. Would it be worth two days of travel each way? Probably not. Plus, COVID. Can’t travel. Nobody’s even letting Americans into their country, for good reason, because we’re too dumb and stubborn to wear our masks and social distance and quit going to parties and shit. So whatever.

I sort of want a puppy. But what if I’m not going to be around for very many more years? I’d be saddling John with a dog for the next 15 or more years, and he’s going to want to retire and travel.

I’d like to spend time with my young nieces and nephews. But what if I’m not going to be around very long? Spending time with nieces and nephews is an investment in the long-term future – which I may not have. Plus, COVID. Can’t travel. Although I did promise Emily’s kids I’d be back soon. I certainly expected to be. But what if? Oh god, what a thought.

Should we go ahead and move closer to family now, even though it’s really not a good time buy a house right now? (And where is “closer to family” anyway?) The Bay Area? Should we buy the “dream house” now, at what is probably the peak of the market, and leave John in debt to a house he wouldn’t even want in a few years? In theory we could rent, but try to rent a house in the Bay Area with two dogs right now. It would take divine intervention. Plus, if I’m going to die, I want a private pool first, damn it!

One of my favorite authors is Jhumpa Lahiri. She writes mostly about what it’s like to be from India, living in the US. There’s a short story I read a long time ago, that’s come back to me recently. I don’t remember the title at the moment. But it’s about a man’s adult children struggling to accept his second wife.

When the man’s first wife died, he went to India to find another wife, and brought her back to the US. His new wife was of a lower education level and class, and his adult children treated her badly. They remembered their own mother; educated, beautiful, graceful – everything this lumpy country woman wasn’t.

The new wife missed India. Her friends back in India thought she was amazingly lucky to have married a rich man and moved to the US. But she was very lonely in her big, beautiful house in the American suburbs, which had been built for the first wife. When the first wife had been diagnosed with cancer, her husband built her the beautiful house with a pool, and she enjoyed it for a year or two before she died, swimming every day for as long as she could.

That story really stayed with me all these years, not because of the first wife’s cancer and her desire to have a beautiful house with a pool before she died, but because of the second wife’s loneliness in the wealthy US suburbs, far away from her friends and family and communal lifestyle in India.

At night, in my dreams, there’s almost always a lot of people around, friends and family gathered for some sort of vacation or event. There’s kids, and there’s dogs, and there’s chaos. There’s people needing to borrow cars to run errands, or borrow forgotten clothing items. There’s things that need fixed, like broken floorboards or fences to the keep the dogs in, and people like John trying to fix them. And neighbors stopping by with food or gifts, or maybe having found a lost dog or wandering toddler.

And almost always in my dreams, I have a baby. If I don’t have a baby myself, I’m taking care of someone else’s baby. Although most recently, it’s been my baby, not anyone else’s. The last couple of nights the little guy, a two-year-old toddler, has been a challenge. Last night he was eating carpet fuzz. And pleased with himself. Stop it! Geez. I cleaned the carpet fuzz out of his mouth but there was more, and next thing I knew, I was pulling cotton batting out of his mouth, in a long rope, as if I were pulling it out of his intestines. (Hmmm…that sounds a bit like a reference to the cancer.)

They say that dreaming about babies means there will be a new endeavor, big project, or new phase in one’s life. That sort of sounds hopeful, but no matter what happens, I’ve got a new phase in life coming. It may be a wonderful new phase, or it may be a short and very difficult new phase. All I know so far about my new phase is – he’s busy eating carpet fuzz?

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com

Starting to bike again

Here’s me on a bike, yay!

John is forever taking pictures of the back of me. I guess it’s because I’m so fast he can’t keep up! 😉

The first half of the ride we were really impressed how well I was doing. I was going significantly faster than the last time we tried to ride!

Then we turned around and encountered a headwind. ROOKIE MISTAKE! Where did that wind come from? No wonder I was doing so well on the way out.

I went much slower on the way back. I wasn’t sure I’d make it, but eventually I did!

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com

Fun Poll! Not Politics or Pandemics!

Let’s imagine that your good friend, Kristina, decided to buy a vacation home. This would be great news for you because not only could you visit Kristina there, if you were super nice, maybe you could also use Kristina’s vacation home with your own family when she’s not using it. Pretty cool, right?

But first you have to answer a short survey. (Yes, there’s always a catch). Here’s the gist of the survey question. Would you use this potential vacation home more often if it were close to you, or if it were in an amazingly great place?

Your answer is probably some combination of the two. On one extreme, if it were in the Seychelles, you’re not likely going to manage to make it out there very often. On the other hand, if the vacation home was in a run-down, small town less than an hour drive from you, well, that’s not very compelling, is it? You’d find you had better things to do and other places to go!

This poll is designed to provide insight on the question that has no perfect answer. Close and convenient? Or somewhere worth making the trip?

In case it makes a difference to your answer, and in order to help you imagine this, picture the vacation home as a 3-bedroom, 3-bath house with a private pool in the backyard. With a palm tree. Make sure you see that palm tree waving to you in the gentle breeze. Actually, go ahead and add in as many palm trees as seems reasonable. Just be sure to leave room for a few citrus trees.

I’m including pictures of pools to add inspiration to this post. Although these are pictures from actual houses that have been for sale in these locations, we’re not going to be buying any of these specific houses because things are selling fast and we’re not ready to buy yet. So the pictures are just representative only 🙂

Here are the contenders:

Tucson! Tucson, as you know, is hot in the spring, summer, and fall, and warm in the winter. We like it there because we like to hike in the desert, and we like the many, many miles of paved multi-use trails. We also like the Indigenous and the Hispanic influences in the area, which gives it character (although not as much character as New Mexico, in our opinion).

Almost-San-Diego! Now you’re thinking, what is that? Almost? The problem is, we like San Diego a lot, but the stated goal (3-bed, 3-bath, with pool) is well over our budget in San Diego. Almost-San-Diego would be somewhat inland, north of San Diego between San Diego and LA, such as Escondido or Temecula. Unless one of you wants to go in with us and buy something together, in which case, San Diego, here we come!!

Palm Springs! This is almost like Almost-San-Diego, but further inland and more golf courses. (Almost-Almost-San-Diego?) We like this area’s proximity to Joshua Tree and the Mojave Desert. But we don’t golf. It’s one of those games where the longer you play the worse you’re doing. When I’m playing a game, I like to feel like I’m making progress or building something. (Monopolies! Hotels!)

Sacramento! Ok, maybe that exclamation point is a bit of a stretch. Sacramento lacks cachet, but it’s closer to my kids than the other options. It’s a practical option; much greener than the desert options and especially nice in the springtime (which is New Mexico’s worst season). Sacramento also has a good bike trail along the river. It’s very close to the mountains, and within driving distance of the ocean. And for many of my blog readers, friends and family in the California Bay Area, this is a “close by” option. Practical, yes, but compelling enough?

Florida! The appeal of southern Florida is the beautiful, shallow, calm water around the Keys and along the southwest coastline. It is amazing. We could boat all day long every day. Kayaking, sailing, fishing; it has it all. And it’s the only truly tropical place in the continental US. It’s also very affordable. But ugh, we’re not into biting insects. Or flooding. Or alligators and crocodiles. (I can’t speak for John on that last point, but I’m absolutely not, nope, never, NOT AT ALL into alligators and crocodiles.) And Florida is really far away (depending on your reference point, of course).

Albuquerque, duh! Last but not least is the answer, “Kristina, I’d rather just come visit you at your modest, comfy, little house in New Mexico and sit and chat on your shady back patio. Albuquerque is really unique and a fun place to visit.” That’s awfully nice of you to say that, but are you sure?

Here’s the survey in condensed form (I could write it all out with repetitive-sounding multiple-choice questions, but I think you’re all spreadsheet people, right? Yes, of course you are.)

HOW OFTEN WOULD YOU MAKE THE TRIP?

If your answer is, “It makes literally no difference to me at all, just pick something, it’s your life after all, and I’ll come when I can wherever you are,” then you can email me about that. But still fill out the chart anyway, it’ll be fun!

And DEFINITELY email me if you’re up for considering going in together on a REAL San Diego vacation home!!! 😉

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com

Better – slowly

Just a quick note to let you all know that I am feeling better! Some days I seem to lose all the progress I’ve made, but slowly I AM making progress. I think it’s just going to take a long time. But it’s a relief to feel some improvement.

We’re going to be without cell reception or internet again this weekend; have a great weekend and I’ll write more next week!

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com

An interesting story

I don’t usually republish news articles because you have no trouble looking at the news on your own. However, I’m making an exception for this article because it published in a small local newspaper and I’m assuming it’s not going to get picked up by the national news. And it’s quite good.

I liked this article because it’s simply somebody’s story. Actually, it’s two stories, juxtaposed. The author, from Santa Fe, was forcibly quarantined in China in 2009 during the H1N1 pandemic, and he was arrested and held for protesting in Houston last month. In the article he explores the similarities between those experiences, and pretty much leaves you to draw your own conclusions.

https://www.sfreporter.com/news/coverstories/2020/07/15/east-and-west/

Send me an email if that link doesn’t work for you.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com

Zane

Both my kids have been wanting to get a dog for a long time. Not just for weeks, or for months, but literally for years. They’ve both waited a long time and worked hard for this, and suddenly, within a month of each other, they both have a new dog!

As I mentioned recently, Darren took our youngest dog, Kira, home with him when he returned to Boise. I miss them both!

Laura has been looking for a mid-sized, short-haired, adult rescue dog and has found the perfect one! He is a Catahoula Leopard Dog and his name is Zane. He’s about 2 years old and about 50 pounds.

Here’s the first photo Laura sent me, when she went to pick him up in Sacramento.

Look at that tongue! He’s all tongue! Apparently it was 106 in Sacramento on Sunday. In the next picture his tongue still appears to be too big for his mouth, lol! And don’t you love the one-ear-up, one-ear-down look?

Here he is at his new house, happily playing with his new rope toy. He matches the rug. I’m sure that was high on Laura’s list of criteria – must match rug.

On day one he ignored his new blanket and sat as close as absolutely possible to Laura’s office chair while she worked.

Here he is, playing with Alex with his rainbow toy.

You gotta love those zany ears!

Guess he decided that’s an ok blanket after all 🙂

This is his “Please get my ball” stare. It rolled under the furniture. At least he’s not trying to tear up the furniture and dig up the floor to get it! Good boy!

He’s willing you to read his mind. “I want my ball please!” (OMG the ear, lol!)

Awww, happy ending! All’s well with the world.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com

Hot

I guess it’s a good thing Darren went back to Boise when he did, because he’s not into the heat, and we’ve been clearing 100 degrees for several days straight this week.

It’s hot, hot, hot; it’s oh-my-gosh hot. John and I like the heat, but we decided that over 100 is a bit high even for us. It was 103 on Friday and then yesterday it was 106, and today it’s 102 so far and rising.

A pool, don’t you wish you had a pool? Oh my, would I like to have a pool. Over a month ago I ordered a little above-ground blow-up thing, which was supposed to arrive in 2-4 weeks but didn’t. The company isn’t emailing back and the phone number doesn’t work. Hopefully we didn’t lose our money. Probably it’s backordered until, who knows, sometime this winter. There’s nothing remotely pool-like available anywhere at any price right now. I assume everyone’s desperate to keep their stuck-at-home kids entertained.

Last fall I was wishing I had a pool after we had use of one for a week at a vacation rental in Arizona and I totally fell in love with it. At the time I loved it for the mental benefits – being in the water and slowly swimming back and forth across the pool seemed to really ground me somehow.

Now I imagine that being in the water could help me recover from the surgery. Even though it’s been almost 5 months, I still feel all stiff and bound-up somehow. It’s like there’s cardboard tubes in my abdomen. Also my hands and feet are swollen and tingly from the chemo, even though it’s been a month since I finished those treatments. My recovery has been very slow, and it seems like being fully immersed and moving around in the water without the constant, same-direction pull of gravity would somehow help my body recover better.

A friend of mine had good things to say about an outdoor YMCA pool near us. I called the Y for reservation details, and apparently they release the reservations online at midnight each night, and I’m told that they’re all taken by 6 AM. So I’d have to set my alarm for the middle of the night and log in at midnight. It sounds like trying to get concert tickets! And that’s not just once, that’s for each day you want to go!

I emailed my friend back (like seriously, I have to set an alarm for the middle of the night to make a reservation?) and he confirmed, yep, he sets his alarm for midnight. He said he doesn’t have any trouble getting back to sleep, but I would likely lay awake for an hour or two. So I’m not going to bother. Also I’m worried about COVID infections going back up again, and I don’t know the locker room situation, and I don’t really want to share a pool anyway.

John and I thought we might be able to cool down our hot tub and use it as a dipping pool. Not big enough to swim, but maybe nice to cool off? Several weeks ago we turned it down as far as it goes (80 degrees) and we’ve been waiting for the water to drop in temperature. A lot of good that did – the temperature is not dropping, it’s rising!

We even tried putting a bag of ice into it once, but it didn’t make any difference, lol.

The water is currently at 108, and it’s flashing a warning that it’s overheated (108 degree water is too hot for safety, even in the middle of the winter). So much for that idea!

I also wish we had gotten our air conditioning installed (we planned to last spring, but we got distracted with the cancer diagnosis and surgery in Boston). Thank goodness we at least have a good evaporative cooler (swamp cooler). In the dry New Mexico air, an evaporative cooler works nearly as well as an air conditioner, so we’re ok.

And we have a covered patio and two huge pine trees, so we’re lucky to have a comfortable backyard.