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Wales

Bob and I just watched the latest Ted Lasso!

It was endearing and fun – SPOILER ALERT the team gets into a pillow fight, Rebecca falls into a canal, and Coach Beard turns into Ziggy Pop in clown drag. But I knew that was coming since I follow the Actor/Coach on Insta. We are left wondering if Ted actually tried a psychedelic! And for all you new kids, Baby Boomers may not have had MDMA, but we did a little tripping in our time.

Of course this Ted episode was filmed in Amsterdam.

A city filled with bikes, canals, and adventure. And TULIPS; I was there over 50 years ago and it looks like it hasn’t changed much. The real change is the recent, and not very well studied, use of psychedelic drugs to treat PTSD and severe depression. Do you really need a therapist next to you for an eight hour trip? And which “type” of talk therapy would be beneficial?

“It’s crazy, all the heterogeneity of what folks were trained in,” says Eiko Fried, associate professor of psychology at the University of Leiden in the Netherlands… It’s not normal in a treatment study to say, do whatever psychotherapy you want, for whatever length you want,” says Fried. Such inconsistencies inevitably muddle the results, meaning “you can’t really learn much. You’re shooting yourself in the foot with protocols like that.”

https://www.wired.com/story/psychedelic-therapy-mess/

Only to muddle reality further, we awoke to the news that a Welsh soccer team, Wexham, just won a promotion to the professional league! Guess who owns Wexham? Two baby-faced American actors, Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney, bought the team for a mere pittance in 2021, its value now quadrupled.

Some people get puppies and bake sourdough in a pandemic, and some buy failing foreign football teams!

“Wrexham’s Association Football Club has formed an important part of the community in the small town in northern Wales since its formation in the 1860s, but despite strong support from local residents it has long struggled financially to pay its players and maintain its operations, almost going bankrupt with multimillion-dollar debts around a decade ago.”

https://www.npr.org/2023/04/22/1171479278/ryan-reynolds-rob-mcelhenney-soccer-team-wrexham-promotion

Wales is on my short list of places to see, ever since my sister Kay told me it’s the most beautiful country in the world! And thanks to Ancestry, my Welsh heritage has been confirmed – my maternal grandfather was definitely Welsh. There was always a bit of a rumor around my beautiful, redheaded Nana. The woman who was holding me in a car in 1949 when our family went out for a drive to see a new airport. The woman who brought me to my first motion picture, Picnic, telling me how “grown-up” I was before ratings became a thing. I knew I came from a long line of proud, strong Pennsylvania women.

“Throw your bread out on the water, and it will come back with jelly on it.”

“We’re from County Mayo, God help us.”

I can only remember her long, black skirts and the sound of her black shoes on pine floors; her copious jars of pickles on shelves. But I remember the feeling of independence and confidence she instilled in me so long ago.

Today, a new Ted Lasso will appear on AppleTV. I’ve got a feeling the team’s losing streak is about to end. And I’m sincerely hoping my dance with breaking bones is done. Bob is asking me where I want to go next, the travel bug has infected him again. My gypsy/handy husband is ready to scour the globe, and I’m his reluctant, fragile wife. I didn’t rehearse for this part, I always played the fun-loving sprite, ever eager to try something new.

Opening new pathways in the brain is one way to defray the costs of aging I’m told. Have I told you that Bob has taken up woodworking and built a board and batten wall in our bedroom? With only a one-handed wife, he enlisted a little extra help with painting. Maybe we should go hiking in Wales? No other country has a dragon on its flag!

Good Morning friends! A cardinal is chirping outside my window, the lilacs are blooming and parents are walking their children to school. The Bride just called and we’ll be heading out to a garden center soon on this sunny spring day. But the biggest news is that the plaster cast came off my right hand and I’ll be wearing a removable splint for awhile.

Actually the biggest news is that a number of Nashville women, called #VoicesforsaferTN https://safertn.org/ including Moms Demand Action and my daughter and her physician friends, organized the three mile long chain of red-shirted people from Vandy’s Children’s Hospital to the State House yesterday! They wanted at least 3,000 people to link arms against gun violence and more than 8,500 showed up. 8,500 bipartisan people! One would think this would make national headlines, right?

Wrong… The 1st Amendment case between “Fox entertainment and alternate reality News” and Dominion was settled; China is planning to launch some new spy drones; and Whoopie is trending on Twitter don’t ask me why cause I’ve not watched the View in a very long time.

Now as an old-timey reporter, I know that fires sell newspapers, not the best cow at the fair. Still, only the Rolling Stone picked up the Wednesday linking arms action last night and this morning. Sure the local TV news gave it a few seconds, and the only reason RS gave it a storyline is because there were celebrities involved, including Sheryl Crow. Here is a local spin, which sounds weary if you ask me – the news anchor is probably thinking what’s the point.

“My son just turned 18 in February, he can now finally buy a lighter in Tennessee. He cannot buy cigarettes. He can buy a gun. He can’t buy a beer. I mean, it’s absolutely insane. Insane what’s going on in this country,” said Kirsten Deitelhoff, a supporter along the chain.

https://www.newschannel5.com/news/three-mile-line-supporters-linking-arms-for-a-change-in-gun-laws-in-tennessee

Yes I guess some states are more insane than others. But if you want to know how our divided nation went from zero to a hundred so quickly I can report it’s called “enragement algorithms.” Social media is the journalist’s evil step-sister. If you “like” a lot of cat videos, that’s what you get. And if you happen to “like” the previous twice impeached insurrectionist prez, your feed will take you down a rabbit hole of disinformation and conspiracy theories.

In this morning’s Tennessean, the 2.5 Billion dollar new Titans stadium is coming up for a final vote and their headline is: “Slim majority of residents oppose new stadium!” If you go ahead and read the article, it’s actually quite a big majority. But I guess football means MONEY, and children’s lives mean what?

I’m glad my children didn’t have mini-phones taped to their hands all the time, but chances are the Grands will. Ask your sixteen year old self if you can spot the difference between truth and lies. I think I’d start laughing, because of course my lie detector was strong. How is yours doing amid the algorithms?

How to Change

i have no idea what i meant by this title. i started earlier in the week, and promptly gave up trying to type with one finger of my left hand. incase you didn’t know, the grand dog pulled the leash because he is extremely prey driven and we are surrounded by cute little rabbits in this neighborhood. i am now the proud owner of three screws in my right ring finger.

the pumpkin wants to know when i can knit again. the bug wants to know when i can cook again. and bob would just like me to stop breaking bones!

my hand surgeon said that my bones are like BALSA WOOD. according to wickipedia, “Balsa is the softest wood ever measured using the Janka hardness test (22 to 167 lbf). … The wood of the living tree has large cells…” i tried keeping a stiff upper lip while deciding not to call him out on the analogy.

if you’ve been keeping track of the tennessee three, so have we; the optimist in me thinks we’re headed toward a tipping point. if you live in nashville please consider linking arms with our whole family on April 18. have i told you that I was talking with the bride’s friend, a pediatrician at our seder? She said the childrens hospital trauma surgeon is still suffering.

And I’m starting to forget. And then I get down on myself, for forgetting her smile, her voice. Although I do sometimes hear her words in my head – “Don’t wait to be asked; Always go with an open hand; He’s having a good day.”

The Bride asked me to make the tzimmes, which is basically Jewish for roasted carrots. And then I remembered that Ada would add dried fruit and some beef ribs, but I forgot what it was called. I’m bringing the brisket and the Kosher wine but my daughter is graciously hosting again midweek at her big farm table. She’s gathering friends and family to eat and talk about the Great Escape from Egypt. And she is making the haroset, which thrills me to no end.

There are some other lessons too, like which child is getting good at reading Hebrew, and who will be the master sleuth and find the missing matzah. Then I remembered, I have Adala’s “Jewish Home Beautiful” book copyright 1941! I have the cookbook she gave me when Bob and I married; a kind of How-To-Be-A-Good-Jewish-Mother guide sprinkled with recipes for celebrating all the holidays around your table. It’s a smallish blue book, its pages turning a brownish yellow.

IT’S FLANKEN! If you know, you know.

And then I thought about the seven families who will have an empty seat at their Easter table this Sunday in Nashville. Has the pastor lost his faith? He must have been in the chapel when the alarms went off, when his daughter was shot in cold blood. The other two children gunned down in their primary school were children of physicians in town. The Bride’s good doctor friend had sent her kids to Covenant, but then switched schools as the pandemic gained force.

Nashville is really just a small town in big city drag.

And since I’m not one for prayers, I joined the protest at the state capitol.

Bob and I left early Thursday with the Bride to march for all the laws that might help regulate guns in this state. Thousands of people gathered. Sure a “red flag” law may have stopped the shooter from purchasing seven guns in just as many months because she was being treated for a mental illness. But do you really think that would help? In Tennessee? The person trying to purchase an assault rifle would have to tell the store, oh btw I’m thinking of harming myself and others but don’t worry I’m under a doctor’s care…. Or wait, maybe they’d do a background check.

If I sound cynical it’s because I am. I watched a local business guy demonstrate a kind of glass film that stops bullets from shattering glass windows. Although the bullets DO go through and leave a hole, the window doesn’t implode. And the more I heard from Republicans saying, “It’s the doors, lock the doors, it’s the drugs, it’s a mental health crisis, we need more guns in schools, every teacher must carry a gun, more guns, more guns, guns, guns….” I say,

IT IS THE GUNS. Guns are the problem.

We must bring back the assault weapon ban. It worked in the past and there is absolutely no reason why our police should have to go up against these guns of war. It’s the one thing that will work immediately. Sure people who are determined to kill other people will find a way, but they won’t find killing so many that easy anymore. They won’t be able to spray bullets over a country music crowd in Las Vegas. Or into another school. There have been 376 school shootings in this country since Columbine.

There have been 376 school shootings since Columbine

“The federal government does not track school shootings, so The Washington Post has spent years tracking how many children in the United States have been exposed to gun violence during school hours since the Columbine High massacre in 1999…

Across all such incidents, The Post has found that at least 199 children, educators and other people have been killed, and another 424 have been injured.

Even as the list of incidents has expanded, however, the trend lines have remained consistent.”

https://www.washingtonpost.com/education/interactive/school-shootings-database/

I don’t understand why our whole country has not decided to go on strike like the French. Today, schoolchildren in the city were going to walk out at the exact same time the shooter opened fire last Monday. My generation walked out of school to protest dress codes, and as a precursor to sit-ins over the Vietnam War. Schools don’t have to be a war zone. What would happen if teachers walked out tomorrow and police the next day? Imagine if nurses and doctors all went on strike. Why are we tolerating this?

Have you actually seen what an AR15 does to a nine year old child’s body?

If we cannot or will not protect our children, what kind of cowards are we? I will continue to cause good trouble, as I know many of my readers will until we fix this public health epidemic of gun violence. We have to change. It’s time to clean out the pantry and color eggs.

Or we could build a moat around every school in the country.

Halftime

What does it feel like to open the New York Times tab on your laptop and read, “The Privilege of a New Start?” Infuriating. The article is about Rupert Murdoch’s (age 92) engagement to Ann Smith (66). It’s all about how men have the capacity to reinvent themselves by marrying someone decades younger, whereas women do not.

“We’re both looking forward to spending the second half of our lives together.” While an ironic, even witty remark, his words nonetheless contain that sense of futurity, of more life left, that new marriage conjures. Everyone has a right to pursue such pleasures, but the playing field is hardly level.” 

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/03/24/style/rupert-murdoch-engaged-ann-lesley-smith.html

So I was going to write about ageism and sexism today. I had read the latest National Geographic article titled, “Patriarchy is not destiny” with my morning coffee. I was all up in a fury about how a 90 year old MAN could blithely refer to the “second” chapter of his life, especially while leading the charge of misinformation in the news industry all while being sued by Dominion voting machines! Then my Son-in-Law texted me –

School shooting at Covenant in Nashville,

reportedly multiple injuries (one website said 4 dead including the shooter). 

VUMC is on mass casualty alert.

And now I’ve been on a family text chain all morning. I’ve been posting and reading and watching our local coverage. My body has been alternating between flight and fight, sending messages to my brain that our time here on earth is up; we can’t save the planet and we’re killing our children… we seem to be OK as a country with children dying in their schools.

The extreme Right BatWing of the once GOP is not willing to give up their assault weapons. Please make me understand why you need these guns?

A teenage girl walked into a small Christian school this morning with TWO assault rifles and a pistol! She was shot dead by the Metro Nashville PD. Thank God our brave police officers did not stand around waiting for permission to engage. Still, THREE children were killed, and THREE adults. SEVEN DEAD.

I am sick. Sick to my stomach of these cowardly politicians who send Christmas cards of their families holding guns. Sick to death of their concern for a fetus. Sick of their thoughts and prayers.

Bob just asked me what I wanted planted as he needs to put his hands in the dirt. I have no more words. The Groom texted that Vandy is supposed to go back to normal, they didn’t get mass casualties. Seems a girl shooter doesn’t believe in spraying bullets randomly. Looks like she targeted her victims.

Want to read up on the history of assault rifles?

“Today, the AR-15 is the best-selling rifle in the United States, industry figures indicate. About 1 in 20 U.S. adults — or roughly 16 million people — own at least one AR-15, according to polling data from The Washington Post and Ipsos.”

https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/interactive/2023/ar-15-america-gun-culture-politics/?itid=hp-top-table-main_p001_f001

Some people go to church on Sunday.

Some fry wings and watch college basketball, and some bundle up for a hike in the woods while their kids are in Hebrew School. Yesterday our whole family, armed with cleaning products, walked over to a neighbor’s newly built house to erase the black spray-painted hateful messages they found on the white brick siding. It was reassuring to see so many people coming to help, to see the police presence along with a few news outlets.

“A search is underway for two individuals who spray-painted swastikas and hateful messages onto five homes in Sylvan Park. Metro Police released Ring doorbell footage on Twitter from one of the residences where the individuals can be seen spray-painting the messages on Sunday. Police say the incident took place early Sunday morning.”

https://www.newschannel5.com/news/suspects-sought-after-spray-painting-swastikas-and-hate-messages-onto-five-homes-in-sylvan-park

My immediate reaction was to stay home.

I thought Nashville had turned its back on winter, but there had been a frost. Searching for a puffy jacket seemed useless. Moreover, I felt useless and demoralized. I’d done my fair share of picketing and organizing, and yet tonight TN will again pass THE MOST EGREGIOUS ABORTION BAN in the whole country.

What good would come from a nana who was just learning how to walk again without pain? My second immediate reaction was to bake something. Baking always helps; it helps me and it helps the recipient. But there was no time. The Bride and Bug would be stopping by to walk with us, and the Groom would join us as soon as the Pumpkin’s’s soccer game was over. Bob started packing the mineral spirits and sponges…

On Saturday we strolled around the local Farmer’s Market. Yes it was cold, but I remembered Margaret Renkl imploring us not to buy grocery store flowers. So I stood in a long line for tulips. There were not many left, but after picking out my colors – deep dark magenta, pink and white – the young man behind me said, “You’re a very smart shopper.” I thanked him for the compliment and said I was always an “outlier.” But he wasn’t referring to my choice of colors, he meant I’d picked only flowers still in bud!

To think how happy I was that day; petting dogs in the sun and picking out French radishes only 24 hours before five homes in my neighborhood were vandalized. On Sunday I thought this must be a bit how it feels when African Americans see a Confederate flag or a Confederate general on horseback adorning the state capitol grounds. I felt hunted.

It’s not as if I’d never seen a swastika before, but it was always within its historical context – a documentary about the Holocaust, a book by Elie Weisel. I’d never stood witness to this hateful symbol IRL, in real life, only in two dimensional film or paper. Anti-semitism to me has always been a remnant of our collective past, after all Shakespeare wrote about it. Still, every year the ACLU sees an increasing number of crimes committed against Jews.

Hate crimes in general have been increasing in numbers across the country. But ever since Mr T was elected, his followers have felt free to say aloud what had previously remained silent. In 2021, the FBI reported 7,759 incidents. The problem is, one can’t assume that every police department reports its hate crimes to the FBI.

“The numbers released this week represent the hate crimes reported to the FBI last year by 15,136 law enforcement agencies across the country. Some experts say the true number of hate crimes is likely higher, since not every crime is reported to law enforcement, not every agency reports its data to the FBI and many agencies report no incidents.”While these numbers are disturbing on their own, the fact that so many law enforcement agencies did not participate is inexcusable.”

https://www.npr.org/2021/08/31/1032932257/hate-crimes-reach-the-highest-level-in-more-than-a-decade

Of course, I went with my clean-up crew. I met the owners of the new house, an architect named Oscar and his wife and two small children. They had just moved in three weeks ago, and he designed their home. Yes, Oscar drew the plans for their forever home. I felt like crying on his sidewalk. People kept coming to help, all in all maybe a hundred neighbors stopped by to erase hate. I made a poster, “LOVE WINS” and met a beautiful black lab named Olive.

I saw footage of my daughter last night on the local news, one of many washing off Oscar’s home, which happens to sit next to a church parking lot. Watching my Grands scrubbing that wall felt bone-crushingly sad. Didn’t I deal with my children being harassed enough because they are Jewish? The swastika drawn into the condensation on a school bus window. The swastika drawn in a notebook.

I try not to be cynical. Today, I will be grateful for the tribe of helpers that showed up with buckets and power washers… and for my tulips which are just starting to open.

Building Fences

BANG! BANG! BANG! Hello anybody home?

And a fine cold March morning to you. Today we are replacing the old, dilapidated wooden fence that encircles our backyard. At 8:30 am on the dot, they started tearing down the fence. It’s supposed to take just one day. This is one of those times I wish I had a noise cancelling set of headphones; I guess I could make like a younger person and head off to a coffee shop to write, or I could try the Bride’s house down the street.

But, this is Spring Break week, so the Grands are home. Between my babies and the bulldog over there, and the BANGING over here, I doubt any cogent thoughts will appear on this page. I guess Pandemonium must be happening at every house with young children this week. After all, there are always Star Wars contraptions to build with Legos. My Ps and Qs (peace and quiet) will have to wait!

After scanning the usual papers on screen with my coffee, it seems like there’s nothing new to report: Mr T is blaming Pence for January 6, isn’t it incredible we are still talking about the twice impeached ex-prez? Regional banks are rebounding, and Russia is still fighting a war it cannot win. The new George Lucas museum is going up ever so slowly in LA. Speaking of LaLa Land, did you see the Oscars? One bit of good news – for the first time in years, Bob and I managed to see the winning movie, “Everything Everywhere All At Once!”

EEAAO is not for everyone; I’ve heard mixed reviews from friends. For me, it is a movie about LOVE and the ties that bind us all in this dimension. I’d choose to do laundry and taxes with Bob again. Michelle Yeoh was nothing short of excellent at the job of mothering. After the last couple of years, I’m sure many of us have been rethinking our parenting skills, and trying to time travel.

That night, as I was getting into bed, I asked Bob if he thought I’d be a different person if my father hadn’t died and my mother never took that car ride to Wilkes Barre July 4, 1949. I imagined growing up in Scranton, PA surrounded by cousins and grandparents, a place where our ancestors are all buried. I would have become a good Catholic girl. I would have grown up with my sister Kay and my brothers. We would have read comic books in the front of my father’s drug store. But I don’t like to dwell in the past.

Bob is busy building a dog gate for the Bride’s front porch. Then the next project for us, after the new cedar fence, will be refinishing the old floors in this new/old house. The contractor had to plane red oak to match our 1920’s floors to patch up the old hearth spots. And in order to do that, I will have to empty my Snug?! Since I use a file by pile approach, this my friends will not be an easy task.

There’s a break in all the action outside. I’ve done a walk-about to see what flowers, herbs and shrubs survived this past winter. All our front foundation hedges are brown unfortunately. The whole row of lavender I meticulously planted last spring is dead. Rosemary didn’t survive either. One tiny ornamental grass did pop up, and the lilacs are starting to bud. And the Grands have arrived to watch the fence go up!

I gave them an assignment with my phone. The Pumpkin will be the Artistic Director, and the Bug will be Head Camerawoman. I asked for pictures from the metaverse of our yard, anything artistic about fence building? I think we can find art everywhere if you’re willing to look. And you won’t need a pair of googly eyes either. We’ve never lived behind a fence before, but I’ve come to treasure our privacy in the backyard.

Dudes in Drag

When I was at Camp St Joseph for Girls, I sang “If Ever I Would Leave You” in drag. I was maybe 13 or 14 and the nuns thought nothing of it. Since I was the tallest camper who could carry a tune, I was dressed as Sir Lancelot in Camelot. Is it called drag when girls dress like boys and perform musical comedy hits, like Victor Victoria? What about Shakespeare, where men always played women?

Back in the day, I’ve witnessed many a guy on stage dressed like a Hawaiian Hula dancer. The trope is funny, with coconuts on their hairy chest. Mostly it was the big, brawny football types who felt secure enough in their own masculinity to don womens’ clothes. I’d never even heard of drag until I was in my 30s and we went to a bar in Key West. Our Big Chill group took up a sizable part of the audience and we had tons of fun.

And now here I am in Nashville with a Drag Star Hair Stylist!

Tennessee is the first state in the union to ban public displays of drag to “PROTECT” our children. What exactly are we protecting them from… ? TN Republican legislators say drag is “harmful to minors;”  They called it an “adult cabaret” that would “appeal to a prurient nature.” My hair stylist in his alter ego, aka The Britney Banks, attended one of the protests. He/she held a sign that said

“Trust Politicians PARENTS”

I absolutely cannot trust politicians to keep our children safe. Safe from what, from learning their own history in school?

Safe from what? reading books that may make them uncomfortable?

Have politicians kept our children safe in their schools? Yesterday, I bought three purple Columbine plants for my garden, and every time I say that word, Columbine, I feel that tragedy deep in my bones; when two teenage boys killed 13 students and teachers and wounded more than 20 in 1999.

Politicians however, have voted against enhanced background checks after Sandy Hook, where six adults and 20 CHILDREN were murdered. They did nothing again after Uvalde, where 19 children and 2 teachers were gunned down. Children are simply pawns to be sacrificed on the altar of Republican Greed. If you haven’t heard Jon Stewart parry with Oklahoma Republican State Legislator Nathan Dahm you’re in for a treat: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCuIxIJBfCY

It’s a bit long – they must go through a series of free speech and 2nd Amendment chaos – but wait till the end. Stewart asks Dahm if it’s true that he doesn’t like drag queens reading to children. Oh my, well of course that’s true. Then Stewart, with righteous indignation in his eyes, asks him why it’s OK to infringe on free speech but not OK to regulate firearms? And Stewart’s trick question is, “DO you know what the leading cause of death is for children?”

It’s not drag queen readings. It’s GUNS!! Yes, now guns surpass motor vehicle collisions, and unlike adults, where the majority of gun deaths are suicides, “…for children, 65% of firearm deaths are homicides and 35% are categorized as suicide.” I guess there is the occasional accidental suicide when a toddler finds mommy’s gun in her purse and shoots himself, but honestly 65% of firearm deaths are murders! And our leaders cannot even reinstate the Assault Weapon Ban?

Why can’t we treat a gun like a car? I used to ride in the front seat with my Daddy Jim. Every time he braked, his arm swung over and pushed me back in my seat. I even did it for awhile with my kids, who used to sprawl all over the back seat to and from the beach with towels and dogs running rampant. Kids are not dying in cars as much anymore because politicians have passed regulations that require parents to take certain measures and buy car seats and not even let them sit in front until they reach a certain height…

Bless Gov Lee’s heart, his priority is not exposing children to Drag Queens, but hey, the more guns the merrier! I wonder when his Christian cohorts will want to end bachelorette parties in Nashville? Or Purim costumes for that matter at a synagogue, where a man recently dressed as Queen Esther. Are we going to infringe on religion? You get my drift. These two know and love my aforementioned hairstylist, and I’m more than OK with that!

The Art of Healing

This morning, as usual, I opened the door to let Ms Bean out. This is usually a perfunctory task, like making a cup of coffee, done without much forethought. Like sleepwalking, since that first cup of coffee hasn’t touched my lips yet. The unusual part of this morning was the wind, warm and coming from the south. Bean paused on the porch, lifting her nose to the new day. She stood there for many minutes, surveying the neighborhood, smelling the wind. And I didn’t rush her as I might have in the past – go on girl, go do your business. No, I stood vigil with her, watching, listening, feeling the wind on my face.

With coffee cup in hand, I opened my laptop to this essay in the New York Times about finding joy in everyday things:

“Instead of thinking about what you find enchanting, which may feel too difficult to answer, Ms. May suggests asking yourself a different question: What soothes you? It might be going on a walk. Or visiting an art museum. Maybe you enjoy watching the shifting clouds.”

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/27/well/mind/katherine-may-enchantment.html

Katherine May, the author of Wintering, said that every morning she likes to go outside and smell the air, “like a dog.” Her new book, Enchantment, is on my bedside table. I looked twice at the title article on my screen, “How to Feel Alive Again,” and felt compelled to click on it. It seems like every day I wake up and go through my mental to do list, only to finish the day without accomplishing one single thing! But what if I’ve been stuck in this holding pattern for a reason. What if my checklist is all wrong?

For seven months now, my sole responsibility has been to walk again, without pain. Can I do bridges again, how about Pilates? I look at the step stool in our pantry with dread, and decide never to use it again, not even the first step. Look what happened to my sister Kay. My purpose in life has become never to fall again; not from a bunk bed step, or a slippery or wonky sidewalk. Avoiding pain at all costs is the fulcrum to days spent wanting in my mind to organize a closet or lock my self in the Snug and work on my book.

And at night I’m thankful to be still standing; I’m grateful for Bob since he finished insulating the attic so I don’t have to look at the pull-down attic stairs next to my desk. In trying to avoid falling, I’ve been ignoring what May calls “soothing” or enchanting everyday things. I’m sure this list would be different for all of us, but it’s about time in my healing process to just get on with it:

To listen to Mozart; to write in my Snug without interruption; to make asparagus soup; to walk Ms Bean; to visit the Frist Museum; to knit my grandson a sweater… to name just a few. Would organizing my new closet be enchanting? No, but it could be satisfying. The closet was finally finished when I was in a wheelchair and couldn’t pass through its door. Now I can see patterns and color, now I can edit (or should I use the overused “curate”) my style, such as it is. Eileen Fisher devotee, coastal nana stuck in a landlocked red state. Post Pandemic. We are post pandemic right?

The motto on my Thistle Farms coffee cup says “Love Heals.” In other words, it doesn’t or shouldn’t hurt like the Everly Brothers song. So as we bid hello to March winds, I’m determined to walk slowly and appreciate the small, ever-present grace of each new day. Like teaching the Love Bug how to make soup.

Fat Tuesday

To celebrate Fat Tuesday, the Bride joined us for a quick Korean lunch of Bibimbap!

After trying out an Uzbekistan restaurant with our Germantown crew last week, we all decided to meet for dinner every month at a new and/or unusual place. Bob and I get to choose the next March culinary pit stop, so I asked my creative daughter for her thoughts – and I am paraphrasing here but – this famous Nashville chef, Deb Paquette, who owns Etch and Jasper’s to name a few famous restaurants has said that Korea House is her all-time favorite! And it’s right in our neighborhood.

I thought about Ada and her friends meeting at a NJ diner every Tuesday, and how I used to join them when I was in town. It was sad to see their numbers diminish over the years, but that sense of predictability and camaraderie appealed to me. Also not having to cook was a bonus. Is this another sign that I am aging; like watching Jeopardy? I think it’s more of a need to stay connected with our Italian cohorts since we moved a few miles away.

My foster parents used to go out to dinner, at the other diner in town and yes NJ has LOTS of diners, almost every Sunday. I would order the exact, same thing every time, veal parmigiana. That was before I learned about veal being a baby calf only six to eight months old and all. I must say that shopping and cooking for your family was not layered with climate or ethical considerations back in the day. I was supposed to clean my plate and that I did because they, the Greatest Generation, endured the Great Depression.

Which meant that nothing went to waste!

I remember giving up PIZZA for Lent, and I remember a priest rubbing ashes on my forehead on Ash Wednesday, and all the statues getting covered in purple cloth at Sacred Heart Church. I’d never been to a Mardi Gras festival until we started traveling, so the whole eat/until/you/burst idea never came up in my childhood… except for the cleaning your plate problem. And Nell never allowed booze in the house, so Shrove Tuesday, aka Fat or Pancake Tuesday, was news to me, but think about it. It almost feels like Yom Kippur.

The whole making your confession thing and asking for absolution – only instead of not eating anything for a day, Christians give up their favorite food until Easter arrives. And then watch out, it’s chocolate bunnies and Cadbury eggs galore! Fasting seems to be a big part of most religions, either for a month or a day; in retrospect, deprivation should lead us to enlightenment, or hallucinations at least. Fat Tuesday, yesterday, was the end of Mardi Gras season, and it makes sense that the custom of drinking and dancing and throwing beads around was just this new Christian faith adapting to pagan Roman rituals.

“After Christianity arrived in Rome, old traditions were incorporated into the new faith and debauchery became a prelude to the Lenten season. This fusion resulted in a hedonistic period of boozing, masquerading and dancing with a heavy dose of religion.”

https://www.cnn.com/travel/article/mardi-gras-fat-tuesday-history/index.html

On Fat Tuesday the world witnessed our President standing in Poland, after visiting a war zone, and talking about meeting the Pope. He was met with a large cheering crowd, wrapped in blue and yellow Ukraine flags while he spoke about freedom. In contrast, the Russian imperialist sat while giving his state of the Russian state speech to a small group of elites in a strangely blue ballroom. He touted lies with impunity and said the West started the war in Ukraine, and I find it hard to believe the Russian people accept this nonsense propaganda.

Following the breakup of the USSR, the numbers of Russians identifying as Orthodox Christians has surged every year. Russian Orthodoxy was the main religion in Ukraine, until the Ukraine Orthodox church recently split from Russia… after 300 years. Instead of fostering healing, peace and diplomacy, Christianity has taken sides.

Ukrainians are not only giving up their brave men and women, their livelihoods and their schools and homes to Russian bombs, during Lent they are expected to abstain from meat, meat by-products, poultry, eggs, and dairy products! I wonder how many soldiers, on both sides, will be getting ashes smeared across their foreheads today. The online Britannica tells us that “The ashes serve as a memento mori and are often accompanied with some variation of the words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” … Ash Wednesday is an obligatory day of fasting and abstinence, where only one full meal and no meat are to be consumed.”

We are all stardust, we are all peace seeking humans. But there are times to pick a side, to stand up to a bully. Silence and indifference must never win again.

This was yesterday on our favorite French island!