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It’s Delightful

February 5, 2024 by mountainmornings

On my way to the Bride’s house, I heard a strange sound. It was a typical early spring morning, a bit overcast and chilly and I thought to myself, I should have worn a heavier jacket. But it’s a short walk, just two houses down our street to the next block. Their house would be empty, everyone at work or school, and I’d promised the little French Emperor he could visit us and chase rabbits in our backyard. The sound was getting louder, and it was coming from the sky.

But first let me start with the beginning. Most mornings, I’ll sit in my snug for breakfast and scan the news on my desk/laptop – the BBC, The Washington Post, and The New York Times. Bob and I will attempt to do the Connections puzzle if we have the time, and I might browse through the vegetarian recipes on Times’ Cooking. I may or may not pick up my phone, depending on a few factors; like did it ding and did I remember where I left it.

But that morning, the one with the otherworldly noise, I was looking at Instagram on my cell and saw that Brother Jones, aka TN52 Democrat Justin Jones, was visiting the Wheeler Wildlife Refuge in Alabama which attracts thousands of wintering waterfowl. It seems that the flight path between Wisconsin and Florida takes these magnificent birds right over Nashville. Jones was going to introduce a bill to protect the whooping crane, an endangered species that first migrated here in 2004. Whooping cranes numbered only around 20 in North America in the 1940s. Today we have about 600.

As I swiped left, I could hear a cacophony of noise, like a gaggle of geese had boarded a slow-moving train playing metal clackers with their webbed feet. I’ve seen great blue herons and egrets on the Jersey Shore, but I’ve never seen a crane of any kind.

And voila, not an hour later, I was gobsmacked, craning my head upwards, listening to the exact same discordant/natural/music/sounds I’d heard on my phone… only louder and more urgent. I shielded my eyes. For a long minute the clouds sauntered and the music amplified.

Then they appeared out of the mist in gray formation, scattered Zs so high up, heading north by northwest.

I stood very still. I remembered to breathe. I felt present, as if I belong. Thousands of sand cranes escorting whooping cranes through their ancient flyway. Escaping. Migrating.

When I returned home with the little emperor, I tried to tell Bob about the whooping cranes. I showed him the Jones video, but something was lost in translation. It was otherworldly, it was out-of-body, it was magic! And maybe, it was because of my T’ai Chi classes that I stopped and soaked in that moment. In the past, would I have stopped, or looked up for so long? “Mindfulness is deliberately paying full attention to what is happening around you and within you – in your body, heart, and mind. Mindfulness is awareness without criticism or judgement.” Jan Chozen Bays

Every day I am confronted by delightful experiences; a petulant dachshund named Lucy, rainbow sprinkled biscotti left on my porch by Leslie, a grandchild walking through the door. Or a video of an owl in the wild walking like Charlie Chaplin! I follow a New York City photographer named David Lei on the Gram, and was delighted to learn his pictures of Flaco, the aforementioned Eurasian eagle owl who escaped from the Central Park Zoo, were recently featured in the NYTimes. https://www.nytimes.com/2024/02/02/nyregion/flaco-owl-central-park-zoo.html

These small, unexpected delights add up and sustain me through health challenges and news cycles. And I can smell spring. We divided a monster (monstera) plant this week that had been devouring the dining room table. Its roots were like tentacles. Bob is planning to build a raised bed for vegetables. I can only hope the rabbits, chipmunks and birds approve of our choices this year.

 

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Fear of Falling

January 30, 2024 by mountainmornings

Turns out, my fear of falling has not subsided. It was only my fear of leaving the house – when ICE is covering everything outside my door – that was on full display last week. But fear has been creeping up gradually; the hesitation, the tenacity when crossing a threshold, looking down instead of up. It seems that overnight I’ve become really really old after falling off a ladder that resulted in an osteoporotic pelvic fracture. You might say my fear is well deserved! But, a generalized ‘fear of falling‘ is bad for your health.

Dr Jim, my psychologist brother, sent me this article from “Life Spark,” a purely wonderful, mid-western company that delivers comprehensive senior care, in home and out:

“Fear of falling is a gradual, insidious spiral,” said Julie Varno, Physical Therapist – Case Manager with Lifespark Home Health. “It might start with a fall, but not necessarily. Either way, you become less active, which leads to weaker muscles and stiffer joints which, in turn, affect your balance and your ability to react. Then an  uneven sidewalk, a misplaced area rug, or an excited puppy can put you at risk  for a fall…. According to some studies, having the fear without the fall is actually more limiting than having multiple falls…”

https://lifespark.com/overcoming-the-fear-of-falling-to-age-magnificently/?utm_campaign=Seek%20On%20Blog&utm_medium=email&_hsmi=290919488&_hsenc=p2ANqtz–6BgMBnXz_u28LZ3is8OMJ5K8pRnDCnkYUElx_Dqsf0zEDIk74cl61-t-PE4VgsMG1HH7aPnqN5W3ObJlGpVGcdf5ROCTjEa2UueYil-YaxnIAa00&utm_content=290919488&utm_source=hs_email

I’ve fallen over Ms Bean. Twice. Once I was carrying a load of laundry and just stumbled right over her, luckily keeping my balance. Did you know that brown fur blends beautifully with wood floors? The other time I was leaving the table on my blind-side, and hit the floor with a plate in my hand. Nothing broke! I’ve fallen off a stair landing in the darkness of dawn after just moving to Nashville. I fell feeding the birds on our Germantown rain-slicked deck. And then, there’s the Malibu fall.

My sister Kay suffers from Meniere’s disease. It is an auto-immune, inner ear problem resulting in vertigo so severe your world could start spinning at any time. She’s had surgery and lost hearing in the affected ear. Pushing 90 years old this Fall, she has had her fair share of falls but she won’t let that stop her. With metal in both hips, and seemingly in her blood, she walks outside with her walker nearly every day, cruising the upper-east-side like a Dowager Empress.

I suppose if I asked Kay if she fears falling she would say something like, ‘I can’t stop moving.’

“I can’t stop moving!” Simple but oh so sneaky. As we age we adapt – we move into a one-level home so we’re no longer climbing stairs, or we put up a grab bar near the toilet so we don’t engage our quads. I’ve been walking more in our neighborhood now that the ice is gone. And I’ve signed up for a T’ai Chi class at Vanderbilt to work on my balance. Plus, I can roll out the yoga mat and go through all the PT exercises I’ve ever learned.

But fear is an emotion. It’s a mind problem, not a physical one. And I’ve read that in order to overthrow a democracy, fear is the first, most potent weapon – fear of others, and fear of the dictator himself. I’ve often wondered what Republicans fear about Mr T, or is it his followers they fear? I heard that a child in a metro school had a swastika carved into his desk. Are we becoming a nation that runs on fear? Fear of good people not voting due to apathy? Fear of being the one guy in the crowd who keeps his arms folded when everyone else is saluting? Does fear make us obey in advance, before being directly told?

Watching E Jean Carroll on the talk show circuit has eased my feminist fears a bit. She hit T where it hurt, 83.3 Million Dollars worth of pain. And when she looked down on him from the witness chair, all she saw was a big, fat “ZERO.” Carroll is my shero. She was afraid to face him in court, but she found his toddler antics and his sycophant lawyers had turned him into an Emperor Without Clothes. My fondest wish is that his followers wake up.

Of course if I do fall again, knock on wood, I’ve got an outstanding medical team!

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Gray Swan Events

January 24, 2024 by mountainmornings

I’ve finally chiseled my way out of the ice palace. Last week the state of TN suffered from an extremely long, sub-freezing, snow event. Every day was a snow day; schools and most businesses closed down and since we live in a western, residential part of Nashville, our roads were free for sledding. I didn’t see a plow until the day before yesterday, 8 days after the first snow. The truck tried going up our small hill, which was a sheet of ice at this point, then it backed all the way down our road, beeping its disappointment.

Climate scientists call these crazy weather events “gray swans,” meaning they are predictable and still unprecedented.

“…the way to think about climate change now is through two interlinked concepts. The first is nonlinearity, the idea that change will happen by factors of multiplication, rather than addition. The second is the idea of “gray swan” events, which are both predictable and unprecedented. Together, these two ideas explain how we will face a rush of extremes, all scientifically imaginable but utterly new to human experience.Our climate world is now one of nonlinear relationships—which means we are now living in a time of accelerating change.”

https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2024/01/climate-change-acceleration-nonlinear-gray-swan/677201/

In other words, the winds will get faster at a certain altitude as the temperatures rise, and these jet-stream winds will accelerate much faster than predicted. I believe our little storm was a gray swan. The south has never had such a prolonged period of extreme cold – single digit days mixed with snow and sleet. Ever since Covid, I’ve hated using the word “unprecedented” but it certainly applies here.

The heat on the second floor of the Bride and Groom’s house stopped working. My friend, Leslie’s heat downstairs also went out on strike, so we spent an afternoon making soup in my warm kitchen. Turns out Leslie has an old fashioned wooden sled that the Pumpkin enjoyed luging down our street at record speeds.

One night, the Grands had a sleepover – we watched Home Alone 3 with Alex Pruitt instead of Macaulay Culkin. After a slow start, the kids were ROFL. The next morning we had fun watching Watson the Frenchie, aka The Little Emperor, try to retrieve tennis balls we launched into the snow. Also hilarious.

Gone are the days of building snow people in the sun. We had enough snow to build an army last week, but single digit temperatures kept us house bound. Plus, Bob reminded me that nose hairs freeze at 15 degrees. Since I’ve been in full-on soup mode all week, I thought I’d share a most comforting winter sweet potato soup

Sweet potato soup.
1 onion, 2 sweet potatoes and 3 big carrots. 1 big tablespoon grated ginger and half teaspoon cayenne pepper 1qt vegetable broth, 2 cups V8, 1 teaspoon sugar and half cup of peanut butter
Chop n Sauté onion and carrots
Add ginger, cayenne pepper a dash of salt
Add broth and V8 and peeled cubed sweet potatoes
Cook for 25 minutes
Add peanut butter and blend w immersion blender after it cools a little.

Thanks to the Bride for this recipe. Today we are warming up in Nashville, and I’m eager to get out and about. My fear of falling has finally subsided a bit. I hope you’ve all stayed warm and safe through our gray swan.

Grilled cheese and soup

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Snowflakes

January 15, 2024 by mountainmornings

Good morning from beautiful, snow covered Nashville where the temperature is 17 degrees. I looked out at the picnic table in the low dawning light, expecting to see a “light dusting,” but to my surprise there’s at least 6 inches of the white stuff and it’s still squalling. Luckily, the schools were closed for Martin Luther King Day and I’m pretty sure every other business has closed as well.

I don’t want to brag, but this is where the lines are drawn between northeners and southeners. When our kids were little, they’d rush to put on the whole kit and kaboodle – thermal underwear and snow suits complete with scarves, mittens and pom pom hats! Let’s not forget the snow boots. They couldn’t wait to make maple snow and build snow caves with their friends in the Berkshire Mountains. OTOH, I don’t even think our Grands own a sled, or ice skates let alone snow boots, and I know for sure they have never seen this much snow.

Sometimes I wonder if I was just imagining walking through tightly packed snow tunnels on the streets of Massachusetts. Did we really get Nor’easters with a couple of feet of snow on a regular basis? That time Bob’s car flipped over into a snow bank on the way to his hospital in Northampton, was that real or just part of a narrative I’ve told myself so many times? The Bride was sitting in her highchair and I was feeding her oatmeal when Bob walked back into the house covered in snow. I didn’t hear a car coming up the driveway; hadn’t he just left for work?

Cognitive dissonance isn’t enough to describe such a feeling but I’ll bet it’s imprinted on us for life. It’s what some patients describe after a dose of ketamine for a procedure – like they are there…but not there. Like the time we heard that Hillary lost the 2016 election. We had to ‘suspend our disbelief’ for the next 4 years, we had to get comfortable with chaos, followed by a tornado and a pandemic. It was a lot to ask, and some of us did better than others.

I thought we’d be talking about Iowa today, but the snow has cocooned us and dampened the GOP. I thought we might look back at the legacy of MLK, Jr, but memorials have been cancelled. When I heard that the principal of an Iowa school had succumbed to his injuries from a school shooter, I was ashamed that I barely remembered the massacre. But I do remember the Covenant School shooting here in Nashville.

When I saw that our own TN Democratic representatives, the Justins, were sanctioned and silenced in the State House because they wanted to talk about gun reform, I was infuriated. Now, Republican-led members have changed the rules for public entry to the people’s house. Getting a ticket to sit in the balcony now, unless you are a lobbyist, is harder than getting a seat at a Taylor Swift concert. That is their scheme; the pleas of Covenant parents to protect their children be damned. Someone once said, “Cruelty is their point” and I’m starting to believe that maliciousness runs in their veins.

As a card carrying Democrat, I was proud to be called a “snowflake.” And I’m just as proud to call myself a Yankee. We know how to deal with a little snow, and we know how to start an avalanche.

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EMTALA

January 9, 2024 by mountainmornings

Happy New Year to you! We’ve been getting off to a good start this year. There are no resolutions to feel guilty about – “I am enough” may be my next best mantra. The Bride and Groom have returned unscathed and refreshed from a trip to New Zealand and Australia with the Grands. And the Rocker and Aunt Cait returned from the East Coast, totally missing that rogue wave in Cali. And if you’re wondering what book is on my 2024 nightstand, it’s a nonfictional look back at the Golden Age of abortion.

I’m not talking about the 60s. I’m currently reading “MADAME RESTELL: The Life, Death, and Resurrection of Old New York’s Most Fabulous, Fearless, and Infamous Abortionist,” by Jennifer Wright. Madame Restell, who lived and worked in the mid-1800s, would advertise her services in all the New York newspapers. She had learned to compound a pill to regulate the menses with a mixture of essential oils and paint thinner. And if that didn’t work, for $100 she could terminate the pregnancy with a whalebone. Surprisingly, her patients lived! But male doctors at the time, who were still using leeches, were threatened by her success and fame.

Madame Restell was not a surgeon, in fact she wasn’t even French. She was an immigrant, a widowed mother from Britain who didn’t want to go into service for a wealthy family (and thereby have to give or sell her child away) or become a prostitute, often the only two choices of the day for women alone. She was an entrepreneur who wasn’t afraid to flaunt her wealth with a carriage decked out in the finest livery. The moral crusaders of the day found such arrogance and lack of shame intolerable. And so Restell found herself in court often, even serving a year in Blackwell Island’s notorious prison.

Ah, the good old days of a medical procedure that is as old as the oldest profession. And since SCOTUS overturned Roe, physicians in some cases are having to reevaluate their care of pregnant women. In other words, The Bride, who is practicing Emergency Medicine in a red state, may have to choose between saving a woman’s life and being exposed to liability, including criminal charges and loss of license. How could that be true? Enter “EMTALA;” a federal law that was passed in 1986 and is the bedrock for Emergency Medicine physicians everywhere. Surely this law would save my daughter from criminal prosecution?

EMTALA is short for the “Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act.” Think about it, most doctors in their offices require insurance or payment up front before your appointment; this law requires ER doctors to treat everyone and anyone who walks through their doors – or rides through on a stretcher – regardless of their ability to pay. Ever since the Bride was a young girl, EMTALA has been the law of the land, just like Roe v Wade. ER docs are quick thinking, fast acting specialists who are not willing to wait for a team of lawyers or administrators to decide if a patient is worth saving because she happens to be pregnant!

SCOTUS is scheduled to rule on this “contradiction” in April… I refuse to hold my breath. Texas has already taken the lead in banning emergency abortions, so sorry, if you find yourself carrying an ectopic pregnancy in TX. Your state has sentenced you to a death penalty already if something should go wrong.

“In the early years of Madame Restell’s business, abortion was classed only as a misdemeanor if performed before quickening, around 20 weeks. Over time, the punishments grew, along with the risks. Madame Restell advertised not just her services but her belief in their necessity. Lifting passages from the social reformer Robert Dale Owen, she likened abortion and contraception to a lightning rod — an invention that was “unnatural,” perhaps, but sensible and lifesaving. She published letters from grateful clients, who proclaimed, “God bless you dear madam, you have taken off the primal curse denounced upon Mother Eve in Eden.”

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/28/books/review/madame-restell-by-jennifer-wright.html

Lightening rod indeed, from the 19th to the 21st Century and women are still left dying by the hands of red legislators. Today, a third of our country, religious zealots for the most part, because of certain SCOTUS selections, may get their way. It’s not enough for them to ban abortions and outlaw morning after pills as if it were the early 20th Century, now the GOP wants to prosecute the physicians. It’s not just the Ob-Gyns, it’s the ER doctors who are being asked to violate their Hippocratic Oath, and EMTALA.

Here is a throwback to the 80s with my little Bride in her Daddy’s ER.

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The 5 Highs and Lows

January 2, 2024 by mountainmornings

Happy New Year! Looking back on 2023, I wanted to list the roses and the thorns – the high points and the lows:

1 The HIGHEST point of the year was our visit to the Rocker and Aunt Kiki in LA! Hiking, cooking and living the good life in the Golden State…. The LOWEST point of the year was visiting the Bride’s ER with Bob after his fall. He was wearing socks on the new wood floor and slid into a corner hitting his head. Luckily, he’s alive and well!

2. HIGH: Having my big sister, Kay, visit this past summer. We had a good time and if I’m not careful, we could turn into “Little Edie and Big Edie” and have a Lifetime movie made about us…. LOW: Losing Ms Bean was heartbreaking. She was as sweet as sugar and put up with the little Emperor’s visits because she knew I loved her best. I still expect to see her little Homer Simpson face whenever I open the front door.

3. HIGH: Lake mini-vacations with family and friends! Wildwood and Lake Barclay were wild and wonderful getaways even though I remain a devout ocean/beach person for life. LOW: The unfortunate and very painful incident of a certain little French Emperor named Watson breaking my finger. After surgery and rehab I’m the proud owner of three tiny screws in my right ring finger, although this is nothing compared to my siblings’ hip hardware!

4. HIGH: Finding a new friend right next door who insisted I continue my aqua therapy for osteoporosis in her pool!! I didn’t think I could make many new friends at my age, but we instantly hit it off and she has a grand dog we can walk together! LOW: As much as I love my new neighborhood, we did have to clean swastikas off the side of another neighbor’s house one day. So many people showed up to wash away the hateful images it turned into a block party and cancelled the hate with love.

5 HIGH: There are so many delightful instances that happen because Bob and I live so close to the Bride and Groom; stopping by for a walk with their old dog, cooking together, dropping off freshly made bagels, and of course the unexpected visit of a grandchild – those are the very BEST! LOW: We had a family of squirrels trying to squat in our attic and one even fell down into a bedroom wall. Bob hired a professional squirrel wrangler to set traps and “relocate” the critters. I stayed out of it for the most part!

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Is Fun Done?

December 25, 2023 by mountainmornings

First of all, Merry Christmas to all who celebrate.

It’s rainy and warm here in Nashville and for a change, there will be no doctor from our family on duty in any ER or ICU! Our adult kiddos are traveling within and without the states this year so we’re all alone; we don’t even have grand dog duty. Our neighbors have taken pity on us, so we’ve had cookies and cakes dropped on our doorstep. I guess being Jewish in the South is a novel experience for many, but with Hanukkah behind us and no Chinese restaurant in sight, Bob and I plan to relax and enjoy our rainy day!

Maybe I’ll vacuum? I must confess we managed to buy a cord-free, lightweight Dyson on a cybersale Monday and it has changed my life for the better. It not only picks up everything, it shines a light on the floor or rug and displays what kind of dust and debris it’s catching on its handle! I mean, between the air purifier and the Dyson, what else do we need? I know it’s very trendy, and I hate being on trend, but I’m even dreaming about vacuuming.

What do you do for fun? If you had no cares, and nowhere to go, would you watch a football game? Would you kick your feet up and read a book, or would you strap on your sneakers and run on the treadmill? I’ve had to accommodate my changing body, but I can still mount our free Buy Nothing Facebook elliptical and do some gentle Pilates. An article in the Post caught my eye the other day, the writer posits we Americans no longer know how to have FUN! In other words, “It’s become emphatic, exhausting, scheduled, hyped, forced and performative.”

Consider what we’ve done to fun. Things that were long big fun now overwhelm, exhaust and annoy. The holiday season is an extended exercise in excess and loud, often sleazy sweaters. Instead of this being the most wonderful time of the year, we battle holiday fatigue, relentless beseeching for our money and, if Fox News is to be believed, a war on Christmas that is nearing its third decade.“

https://www.washingtonpost.com/style/of-interest/2023/12/23/fun-is-dead/

And I get it. The stress of the happy season to feel happy can be depressing. Take the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life,” Jimmy Stewart is so depressed (and drunk I might add) he’s ready to jump off a bridge until an angel recounts all the myriad ways he’s made a difference. Bob and I watched my favorite holiday movie “Love Actually” last night and all doesn’t end well in old London town. There is still infidelity and unrequited love via poster boards. And this year, in particular, even Bethlehem has cancelled Christmas because of the war.

A Biblical, age-old war between brothers, the Arabs and the Jews, both born of Abraham. His wife Sarah was too old to conceive and so Ishmael was born via her maidservant, Hagar/who/by/the/way/was/not/Jewish – the first surrogate mother in the Bible. Later, when Abraham was 100, he and Sarah had a son, Isaac. Guess which son inherits the fertile crescent? They are still working this out, because one brother does not want to share, sound familiar? From the Camp David Accords in 1978 to the Oslo Accords in 1993 only one side has refused a two state solution, the Palestinians.

If the Irish and the English worked things out, the Bosnians and the Serbs, and the North and the South for that matter, I’m left wondering why peace is so illusive in the Mideast. Who is benefitting from this war? The leaders of Hamas who sit comfortably in Qatar, reportedly billionaires who live luxuriously while their people suffer. The right-leaning Israeli leaders who have cemented their hold on Netanyahu’s government after October 7 surely. But money, power, oil and water are not the only answers in this multi-generational feud. Plus, why must an American president work out an accord? Where are the leaders in the Arab world, the kings and sheiks who pull the strings?

I didn’t mean to leave you with a sour note this morning. In fact, since I cannot control the Mideast and unless you happen to be a Secretary of State neither can you, it seems imperative that we do what we can to practice compassion – both for ourselves and others – as we head into a new year. May you do what makes you happy today and Merry Cleaning!

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The Diet Diatribe

December 19, 2023 by mountainmornings

I just had my annual physical with Dr M, an internist/palliative care doctor I love. She sits and faces me, not the computer, she talks about life in general and listens to me, she asks questions about my health and the family (spoiler – she’s a friend of the Bride and Groom). My doctor looks in my ears, listens to my heart and figures out what immunizations I need, like the pneumonia vaccine. Ouch, that hurts going in! Then just before giving me a clean bill of health, right as I was about to hop off the table, she looked at the weight her nurse had noted in my chart that day.

In fact, she flipped all the way back to 2016 and spoke aloud my weight each year…

It wasn’t an actual surprise and I should have seen it coming. After all, I rarely get on a scale and the past 18 months has seen my mobility greatly compromised by my bone density. In other words, I knew I needed to work on building up my strength and endurance, on walking more and starting to lift small weights again. And I’d just gone through my closet for the winter, unearthing sweaters that did feel a bit snug. Subconsciously I knew it was time to move more and eat less. Still, having my doctor point out the obvious facts in such a kind, non-judgmental way was edifying.

I need to lose weight! My AHA moment had arrived. No more blaming the incremental, ballooning pounds on a Mr T presidency, a Pandemic, and my osteoporosis. It’s time to try to pull up those big girl pants and get down to business. Dr M suggested smaller portions while also telling me not to worry about it until after the holidays. Sure, right at the bell of a New Year I could join the throngs of people starting their weight loss journey like salmon swimming upstream. Until then, don’t worry about it.

Well if you know me, telling me NOT to worry about something is a perfect way to keep me worrying, especially since I hadn’t been worrying about my weight so much to begin with. I was just avoiding scales! Call me a humbug, but I’m not starting a food journal, never did and never will. I’m not paying someone else to keep me on track, like Weight Watchers (WW) or Noom. And I told Dr M that I absolutely won’t take Ozempic, and she immediately agreed with me… even if Oprah has decided to jump onboard the diabetes drug weight loss train.

I’ve watched Oprah pull a wagon of fat across the stage in her heyday. Oprah is the Phil Donahue to my generation of women; the second wave of feminists who threw out pantyhose and girdles but decided to try and emulate Twiggy anyway. The big O is still on WW’s Board and stands to make millions more by endorsing an easy fix – the shot that costs hundreds of dollars and promises to curb your appetite. It’s like our whole country has just given up, willpower and lifestyle be damned. And Oprah has given us her blessing to shoot up (It’s not a magic pill, it’s a once-weekly injection for Type 2 diabetes). Let’s see what Sima Sistani, the new CEO of WW had to say when she spoke with All Things Considered:

Ms. Winfrey, along with the rest of our board, stands by our business vision and our program offerings. But we all know that her story has been one that has been a generational story and one that mimics so many people who, on a day to day basis, struggle with the same shame and bias where weight loss has been associated with a preoccupation around thinness. And what we’re trying to do is reshape that conversation around weight health. It’s not a matter of vanity. This is about the degree to which weight impacts your health and your quality of life. And for decades, we’ve discussed weight and dieting and obesity in terms that isolate people and often demotivate them.

https://www.npr.org/2023/12/18/1219710239/weightwatchers-oprah-ozempic-drugs-wegovy

When I confessed my conversation with Dr M to the Bride, she said, “DIETS DON’T WORK!” She knew Sistani at Duke; they were undergrads together and Sistani belonged to the same sorority as the Bride’s roomie. Disordered eating was everywhere on the Duke campus in the 90s, but when wasn’t a woman trying to fit into her culture’s idea of beauty? Tattoos, piercings, foot-binding, neck-lengthening chokers, corsets. Even Egyptian women wore eyeliner! So why shouldn’t we starve ourselves today? The thing is, I’m already injecting a drug to build back bone, I’d rather not inject something else for a disease I don’t have.

I’m not here to shame you if Ozempic or Wegovy are your golden tickets. Just don’t think any of these companies are acting as your fiduciary. Maybe the problem is simply capitalism. After all the pharmaceutical industry wins, Weight Watchers wins, and the consumer pays to lose weight. I told the Bride to fight back, weave her yoga teaching into her medical practice for an integrative approach to health and wellness. Borrow from the East and practice preventative medicine. Let’s all eat like we live in a Blue Zone. Break the next generation of feminists free of body dysmorphia, our last self-loathing trap.

At least my shoe size hasn’t changed! Merry Christmas Everyone, be kind to yourselves.

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Give Me Liberty!

December 12, 2023 by mountainmornings

It’s the American way, right?

To live freely: to practice your faith without the fear of being swept into a pogrom, or for that matter NOT to practice any faith; to speak your mind in a public square and maybe on the internet too; to care for and cherish your very own bodily autonomy so that you may procreate or NOT, depending on the context. I’m referring of course to the Kate vs Ken case in Texas. Kate Cox is 31 and she was carrying her third child when she found out the baby would never live.

Enter the TX Attorney General, (R) Ken Paxton. Despite Cox’ physician warning that forcing her patient to carry an unviable fetus to term would inflict not just emotional damage but true physical harm – meaning a total hysterectomy at best, death at worst – Paxton believes that only he and his Republican zealots should decide Kate Cox’ fate. He is willing to send any doctor to jail for administering life-saving care. In fact, he threatens to prosecute anyone trying to help Cox leave the state to procure an abortion.

And since the TX Supreme Court overturned a ruling allowing the procedure, she has been forced to do just that – pack up and leave her state. Maybe it’s time we developed a new type of travel itinerary – like adventure travel, destination weddings, or river cruises. Let’s call this post-Dobbs journey the “MY STATE LOVES WOMEN TOUR”: short stays in boutique, medically supervised AirBnBs close to hospitals and/or Planned Parenthood clinics in an actually sane state that allows reproductive health care and freedom to all!

No woman in 2023 in this country should have to ask permission of a judge to receive any kind of healthcare! This bears repeating: No woman in 2023 in this country should have to ask permission of a judge to receive any kind of healthcare! In fact, no person should be put in this position!

And yet, here we are. According to Yahoo News “…a little over 92,000 people in the U.S. traveled to other states in the first half of 2023 to receive abortion care, more than double the 40,600 who did the same during a similar period in 2020.” 

OK so let’s double that number to nearly 200 thousand for a full year and then let’s add all the poor women who cannot afford to travel out of state. I cannot understand how this is happening today to half the population of our country!

While we are lighting the menorah Bob made when he was 12 in summer camp, these are the thoughts swirling around in my mind. Our country is going backward. Books are being banned in our TN schools and I actually had to think twice about putting our electric menorah in the window. Should I be advertising our religion? With blow up santas, snowmen and lights galore in our neighborhood, I bravely plugged our kitsch orange menorah in and turned her on. She’s shining behind our lawn sign that says “Hate Has No Place in our Neighborhood.”

Even though our liberty is in jeopardy in our state houses, I have to believe our country, our democracy will survive.

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Cold Snap

December 4, 2023 by mountainmornings

It’s December already. Bob and I try to walk after lunch since it’s too dark to walk after dinner. Yesterday was a record day for Welsh Corgi sightings on our park’s greenway. We met at least five of both the Pembroke and Cardigan variety, and thoroughly enjoyed talking to one young woman who was walking two Corgis – one a beautiful brindle and the other a tri-color like our Tootsie Roll. You might say I am missing having a dog. Nobody greets you at the door like ‘woman’s best friend!’

Speaking of canines, I have to confess my latest streaming obsession. “The Secret Life of Dancing Dogs” is on Hulu and is throughly worth watching. A reclusive woman from Norway and a young British woman with juvenile arthritis will steal your heart along with their dogs. I guess this is the closest thing to reality TV that I actually like because it combines my two great loves – dance and dogs!

https://www.hulu.com/series/the-secret-life-of-dancing-dogs-4df02fde-ad1d-4b73-97a2-ed52772d3469

The first time I saw a woman dancing with a dog was on the Gram. I tend to follow authors on social media and I’d just read Ann Leary’s book “The Good House,” so I was surprised to find out she is married to actor Denis Leary and lives on a farm with lots of animals. You know when we first moved south to Cville I’d wanted to raise alpacas, and so I envied her bucolic life. Leary’s videos were nearly always outside in New England weather of all sorts showing her horse whispering or dog dancing skills. How hard could it be I thought, to teach a dog to dance?

Very hard as I have learned from Hulu. Another sensational series on Apple is “Lessons in Chemistry.” I absolutely loved reading the book by Bonnie Garmus and although it’s true that the movie version was not quite like my imagination, it was enjoyable and cathartic nonetheless. A love story between two scientists with an actual talking dog – I mean…..

There was no dog featured in the latest Parnassus signed first edition, “The Absolution” by Alice McDermott. If you too are not fortunate enough to have the company of a furry friend, you may want to consider curling up with this book on a cold winter night. A seminar on power both personal and global, and its malignant consequences, it is compelling. She writes from a feminist perspective about our early build-up to the Vietnam War… which had me thinking of those Israeli soldiers, the young WOMEN who tried to warn their superiors about the uptick in Hamas activity before 10/7.

I’m beginning to wrap Hanukkah presents since latkes will be served the first night, this coming Thursday, December 7 (WHAAAA)! We decided to gift the Grands their first present early – warm puffer coats! This year will be a bittersweet holiday season for Jews around the world. We will light candles to illuminate yet another war, another moment in time when Jews were not assimilated or extinguished entirely.

In the second century BCE, the Holy Land was ruled by the Seleucids (Syrian-Greeks), who tried to force the people of Israel to accept Greek culture and beliefs instead of mitzvah observance and belief in G‑d. Against all odds, a small band of faithful but poorly armed Jews, led by Judah the Maccabee, defeated one of the mightiest armies on earth, drove the Greeks from the land, reclaimed the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and rededicated it to the service of G‑d.“

https://www.chabad.org/holidays/chanukah/article_cdo/aid/102911/jewish/What-Is-Hanukkah.htm

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