Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘writing’

Playing Mahjongg By Myself

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , on June 30, 2026| Leave a Comment »

First of all, strike up the band! It’s been 250 years and our country is still standing. We’re a bit bruised by the current occupant of the White House, and maybe our bones are getting brittle, and sure, our friends overseas (and to the north and south) don’t want to play with us anymore, but it’s all good. At least the SCOTUS sometimes still gets it right – every now and then. The New York Times reported yesterday:

“The Supreme Court on Monday declined a request by President Trump to review a $5 million civil judgment against him after a jury found in 2023 that he sexually abused and defamed the writer E. Jean Carroll. The announcement by the justices did not include any reasoning, and no public dissents were noted.”

Hooray for E Jean! She will maybe? get her 5 million; yep, the Justices pretty much said Mr T is a sexual predator, so what? He was found to have done the dirty deed at Bergdorf’s and he’s going to have to pay the fine. Maybe he can sell a few more coins with his head on them? And hold the presses! The Supreme Court just now rejected Mr T’s efforts to end birthright citizenship by a 6 -3 vote! Will wonders never cease.

But this morning I wanted to talk about personal friendships, and gaming. Not the internet type of gaming which is a solo endeavor – the kind where you actually sit down at a table with humans. My husband Bob isn’t competitive. In fact, he hates thinking of anybody losing, because when you win somebody has to lose, right? I used to joke that my husband was the only doctor in these United States who hates golf! He comes by this disinterest naturally.

His Mother, Grandma Ada, also looked askance at games in general. She never retired from her marriage counselor career, helping all the aides in her senior living community navigate love and loss. Whenever asked when she was going to retire, Ada would say, “What am I going to do, sit around and play canasta?”

It’s kind of funny that my sister Kay also has some disdain for games although she’s been known to play a card game called Spit and Malice. Sounds intriguing right? There’s a guy named Bill who would love to rope her into a weekly Bingo game, stay tuned! I used to think only Catholics played Bingo.

My neighbor, N, told me she started playing Mahjongg by herself to get better at learning the 2026 card and figuring out what to discard during the Charleston. She was a little slow in the beginning getting started, wanting to ask our teacher, Robin, for recommendations in the library. Since Robin flew back to NJ for the summer, N and I have been hosting games in our homes and I’ve noticed that she is now faster and surpassing many of us in her level of play!

So I figured I’d give it a shot. My dining table is set up as if four people are playing Mahjongg, but it’s just me. It’s difficult keeping four hands together and trying to stay focused while phones ring and the laundry calls my name. One is the loneliest number.

Did you happen to catch the PBS show “Wired for Connection?” https://pbs.org/show/wired-for-connection?source=social

Stay with me. It’s a fascinating look into the latest science on loneliness and how we humans are social animals. Evidence based, they study the effects of friendship: lower blood pressure: reduced dementia risk; stronger immunity; better sleep; and a longer lifespan. Not bad! And you would not believe the actual health complications that can result from a solitary lifestyle.

I’ve never been a girl gang type. Usually my MO is to have a few close friends and that’s it. Both of my mothers were loners. The Flapper was too busy working to socialize and Nell never learned to drive. We were like two Rapunzels on that hill in Victory Gardens. But since moving to Nashville in my dotage, I’ve acquired a bit of a posse.

There’s a few women who live on my street that are “ride or die” friends. And of course there’s cousin Peg in East Nash. We have the Germantown crew who still consider us friends/neighbors since we survived a tornado together, followed immediately by the pandemic and one near/trip to Italy. There’s always the Big Chill childhood friends who are scattered geographically but still close. And just this past year, I’ve found a whole new group of Mahjongg mavens!

There’s R who gives me a ride in her menopause convertible. There’s A and C, also Jersey girls, and Em a native Nashvillian and a realtor. There’s D who’s in charge of keeping a space for us in the library, and the aforementioned N from the block. And there are more women who cycle in and out depending on their schedules.

So I’m feeling hopeful. We Americans can right this ship! And I’m going to invite a few people over for the Fourth – the holiday that forever changed my family in our Year of Living Dangerously. Because why not celebrate our freedom while we still can?

Read Full Post »

A Winning Streak

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on June 16, 2026| Leave a Comment »

What a week!

The Knicks WON the NBA Championship with some of the most thrilling plays and underwhelming referees in the history of the game. Growing up in NJ, I’ve always loved the Knicks ever since their last win in 1973 when they defeated the Lakers. I was glad the crowd booed Mr T when he showed up at Madison Square Garden for Game 3, and happy to see Prince Harry sitting with the Commish at Game 5 for the win. I even loved seeing Taylor Swift do a little dance!

Tay Tay’s biggest fan, our Love Bug, has started training for high school basketball in the Fall. She even told me that she shot a 3 pointer that missed, while simultaneously running up to the basket to tap it in for the points. Incredible, she assisted herself! And that the girls played a boy’s team and WON. I’ve honestly never been so proud. Of course, I had to tell her about Bille Jean King. The Bug’s coach would like to recruit her for bigger and better teams, but for now she’d rather focus on volleyball… and starting high school.

And in even better news, last Thursday I walked into the library for my weekly Mahjongg game, fresh after the Knick’s come from 29 points behind win, and asked if anyone saw the game? Only the youngest woman there smiled and yelled YES, and I confessed that I’d gone to bed while the Knicks were 25 points behind thinking we were doomed. And now I cannot stop watching videos of the NY crowd at MSG losing their f-ing minds as the ball is gently assisted into the basket for the winning point. It is pure unadulterated joy! And just about an hour later, in the library…

I WON at Mahjongg for the second time since I’d started playing this year and I felt for just a few minutes a kind of joy – not the jumping up and down kind of joy – but an incandescent, quiet pleasure in understanding this game, in stretching my mind.

I was starting to feel defeated by Mahjongg. We had all been learning to play on the National Mahjongg League 2025 card, when the new 2026 card came out in April. Yep, just when you think you have a handle on strategy and a bit of memory for the winning lines, they throw it all up in the air and present you with a whole new card. “Save your 6s;” “Never stop the Charleston;” “Look for pungs;” were some of the tips I heard in the whirlwind of combinations my brain was trying to follow. This is not a game for the faint of heart.

Lately I’d had a passing thought, maybe I should return to the beginner’s table, where the play was slower and talking encouraged. Then it all came together.

To top off the weekend, we met our Germantown friends at the Schermerhorn Symphony to celebrate Juneteenth with the Nashville African American Wind Symphony (NAAWS). This is their fifth year in the community elevating composers and musicians of color. It was a glorious night filled with classical music alongside jazz and even some pop.

And speaking of concert halls, how about the John F Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts? The tarps went up and the huge bronze letters came down on Saturday after Rep Joyce Beatty of Ohio initiated a lawsuit to remove Mr T’s name. Thankfully a judge ruled that the center could not be renamed without approval from Congress. Thank you Rep Beatty.

I believe the tide is turning. Let’s make a joyful noise for our nation’s birthday this year.

Read Full Post »

Waiting for Smaug

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , on June 9, 2026| Leave a Comment »

Right before the deluge of rain yesterday, our bathroom vanity showed up. Wayfair was supposed to text me between 2:30 and 6:30 to tell me they were 30 minutes away, instead I heard a faint knock on the front door at 1:30. It’s a good thing I was home, waiting, and not out looking at ceiling fans with Bob. I’d had a green vanity with a marble countertop in my cart for weeks, but when it came time to order I changed my mind. It was the marble. It’s too precious, too expensive, and too much trouble for the occasional guest to worry about staining.

Today we’ll open the carton to make sure the sink isn’t broken.

The kitchen appliances are all stacked neatly in the middle of the living area, waiting for the plumber. I didn’t want a big L-shaped kitchen in our little casita, they will be lined up against one wall – half of a galley. And I opted for no dishwasher, and instead ordered a washer/dryer combo like we had in our Charlottesville four square.

Don’t judge me. My brother, sister, and even my husband and daughter prefer washing dishes the old fashioned way, I’m presuming anyone staying with us will be sharing meals with us anyway.

And speaking of my sister Kay, she’s waiting for the elevator in her NYC co-op to be replaced. She would like to have her furniture shipped down here; along with her artwork, this would make her Nashville apartment feel more like home. It feels more like a hotel at the moment, with good restaurants, PT and OT that comes right to her door, and all the T’ai Chi and Bingo she never knew she wanted. Since her arrival, we’ve talked about making this a permanent move, but she’d been on the fence.

It’s hard to wait with uncertainty.

The work on the elevator was delayed, so a two month stay is stretching into three. Still, nothing can be done until there is a new elevator installed…

Our twin granddaughters are on the move in LA. They’ve started walking and are trying running and jumping too! They know lots of words and love to sing the “I Have Two Eyes” song with us on FaceTime, sticking out their tongues, blowing kisses. I cannot wait for our visit in a couple of weeks; last time we were there, they were still holding onto our fingers to take a few steps.

But we have to wait – for the plumber, the elevator, and our trip to California. Even the Love Bug is waiting to start high school and get her first phone, without social media mind you. The Pumpkin, OTOH, has finally become the proud owner of a bearded dragon named Smaug thank you Tolkien (pronounced Smog). He waited to find the perfect, large terrarium, he biked to the stream in the park to find a big piece of driftwood, and he signed a contract with his parents about its care and feeding. Let the summer commence.

Although we will still have to wait until at least June 13th to see if the Knicks can pull off a championship season!

Read Full Post »

to be Rude or not to be Rude

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on June 2, 2026| 2 Comments »

Since I’ve stopped watching morning TV shows with my coffee, my life has improved. No more cursing under my breathe, a political veil of dread no longer accompanies me to the shower. Instead, I open my iPad to Substack and read – about how women need estradiol hormones after menopause; about a writer’s style vs their voice; about the intersection of physical and emotional pain; and occasionally I’ll read Mary Trump’s insights about her uncle.

But last night, after visiting Kay for some tech support, I was caught off guard by a barrage of comments on Threads – my pivot away from Twitter aka X – about an interview on the Today Show yesterday. People were up in arms about the way Craig Melvin treated our former First Lady, Dr Jill Biden. The word that kept popping up was that he was “RUDE.” So of course I had to open the interview this morning…. but first I put the Today Show on and was astounded at how simplistic and redundant it was, and this was before the puff pieces. I didn’t miss it in the least.

I wanted to see if Melvin would apologize. He didn’t.

Over the years I’d done my share of interviews for a local newspaper. Of course there were no cameras, and some were just on the phone. But I would try to dig beneath the facade of local color, not focus on what they were selling me about themselves. Why did the nurse move here? When did the hedge fund guy get interested in basketball? I’d take a corner and run with it, to fill out their personality on the page. To overuse an overused word, I’d try and make them relatable.

Jill Biden needs no introduction. She’s a smart, competent woman, a college professor, who married an older man. She raised his two sons as her own after the devastating car accident that killed Joe Biden’s first wife and baby daughter. Being a native of Scranton, PA and having been torn from my family after a car accident, I had always loved Joe Biden. And Jill was his rock, his “gut check.” Now she’s written a book – a memoir, “View From the East Wing.” You remember the East Wing don’t you? Bob’s reaction to all the press is similar to many Democratic strategists – why bring this all up, the failed debate and his failing health, right before the midterms? This is what Jill said in a January 2024 AP interview, when her husband was 81 years old:

“I say his age is an asset… He has wisdom. He has experience,” (Jill Biden) continued. “He knows every leader on the world stage. He’s lived history. He knows history. He’s thoughtful in his decisions. He is the right man or the right person for the job at this moment in history.”

And now she tells us she thought her husband was having a stroke while debating Mr T on June 27th of that same year. I watched my husband have a stroke, and he didn’t go right back to work. The doctors told her he was fine. But she wanted to “…lift him up.” Melvin pressed her by asking if Joe was too old for the job, and wasn’t she setting a “pretty low bar” by telling him only that he’d answered every question later that night. She insisted it was his decision and his alone, to stay in the presidential race. I felt sorry for Jill Biden, but I can’t imagine she wasn’t prepared to play hard ball with the press. I actually find it demeaning for people to react as if she’s a poor, pitiful older woman who needs protecting. Get over it social media, we Boomers have survived Watergate and worse.

Jill Biden wrote the book. She watched her husband lose support, she watched the bulldozers tear down the East Wing. It was like living in a Shakespearian tragedy. She has a right to her own story. Another First Lady had this to say about that.

Read Full Post »

It’s Been a Week

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on May 26, 2026| Leave a Comment »

It’s been exactly one week since the Love Bug graduated eighth grade. All the girls wore white dresses and were handed one white rose. And I consider myself lucky to have been there, to witness her with her friends. Because she is September’s child, she is one of the youngest of her posse; still wearing Converse sneakers and socks. They laugh wholeheartedly, and cry as if the world just ended. Some of the students will be moving on to a different high school, but they promise to still call. Or do nearly 14 year olds make phone calls? More likely some text chains will continue, and some will change.

The forecast called for rain, and so the graduation ceremony was held inside.

The Pumpkin’s band, “Snakebite,” was the opening salvo of the evening. His guitar riffs were tight, and the bassist was quite a performer. Cell phone lights were waving in the air and they got a standing ovation in Music City no less. Four 5th Graders, younger brothers, ruling the roost, until the curtain closes and a gigantic screen descends for a video trip down memory lane. Parents and grandparents were tearing up. The Love Bug dancing at age 4, her friend as a baby covered in birthday cake. Then we see clips from present day, with the Bug spiking a volleyball at the net. She is a smart, talented, exceptional human – a wonderful friend, a loving grandchild.

Today the rain continues, with flooding likely and a chance of thunderstorms.

I am glad the Bride and Groom have stood their ground about cell phones. The Bug can text with her friends from her watch, but she has been gifted her middle school years in real life (IRL). I suspect once high school starts, she will have a phone. But I am also pretty sure she will be a responsible user; she’s seen the downsides already – all night texting for example. I asked the Pumpkin what percentage of kids in his grade have phones? “About 20%,” he said, which seems reasonable, better than I thought. After all, this week it seems our President had been leading us through his social media posts – even skipping his son’s wedding in the Bahamas to stay at the White House. Heather Cox Richardson wrote this:

“Trump’s social media account over the weekend was active. He twice posted an image of himself leering over Greenland with the caption “Hello, Greenland!” and repeated suggestions that “China Loves Trump.” He posted an AI image of Representative Ro Khanna (D-CA) as a devil (I think), calling him a “SLEAZEBAG” and a “Dumocrat,” and an image of eight lawmakers or officials in orange jumpsuits (except for Obama’s tan one), claiming they had “Caused tremendous damage through Weaponization!” And he posted a number of images of colorful fountains.”

Scattered showers are still possible, flood advisory will lift in one hour.

The problem is, our flood advisory never lifts. Mr T is always flooding the zone, one minute saying the negotiations are going well in our adventure in Iran, and the next bombing them. Despite its blatant illegality! We have a government that bends the knee to this orange would-be king who rules via late night and early morning social media rants. Maybe we need our legislators to pass a law setting an age limit for elders with dementia? No social media accounts over 70 if you use AI to make yourself look like Jesus.

I am drowning in his fantasy world, trying to create a slush fund for his cronies. I wonder if the GOP will grow a spine, finally. And now excuse me while I find my umbrella and tell the painters to move their trucks because the new dumpster has arrived. Just in time.

Read Full Post »

Taking Kay to Costco

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on May 19, 2026| Leave a Comment »

Consumerism.

Costco is the size of a few football fields. Never was there ever a store in history where you had to pay to play. You must be a member to enter the cavernous walls of pallets filled with anything and everything your heart desires. Outdoor furniture, steaks, refrigerators, paper towels, hearing aides – you name it they’ve got it. They even have books and toys! Or you could fill up your tank and get your tires changed. It was all a bit overwhelming, but Kay had never heard of it and she was there for the fashion only.

We’d always joke about Bob getting almost all his clothes at Costco. But it wasn’t until my newly-transplanted sister noticed an outfit I’d thrown on that sparked her interest in the store; it was a light, gauzy green, cotton shirt that happened to match a pair of Eileen Fisher pants. Every now and then I pick up something pretty, along with the huge cartons of Starbucks coffee. And I’m always interested in that special cotton you can wash and hang to dry – the wrinkly fabric is part of the charm. In this 90 degree heat, it’s essential.

I told Kay the same shirt may not be there, but it was worth the sociological field trip to give it a try. Kay has been used to the same Upper East Side neighborhood for decades. The stores are pint-sized and specialized. I remember the first time I saw a pair of lilac, leather baby shoes from France in the window of a children’s store around the corner from her 96th Street apartment. I was strolling down Madison Avenue when the Bride was little and I’d only known white Stride Rite shoes for new walkers. I’d get out the white polish every time we’d travel. It was almost rebellious to think a baby might wear a soft shoe. Now I’m introducing Kay to something new. In the past she might have shopped at Macy’s or Bergdoff’s or Bloomingdale’s. And it’s not as if she’d never been to a shopping mall. When visiting the Flapper in MN she had a plethora of huge malls to visit with our brother Dr Jim.

But I warned her about Costco. “It’s for people who own restaurants, or sororities,” trying to prepare her for the experience.

She didn’t want a scooter, her fancy walker would do just fine. Although she said she’s an excellent driver, the Ada incident in Target was still weighing heavily on my mind. Kay would not be distracted from the mission. We headed straight for the tables piled high with clothing I hoped children weren’t making in sweatshops in Asia. And lo and behold, there were still some shirts left like mine and she picked out a navy blue, and then found more summer clothes for her new life in Nashville. She’d let go of her walker and hold something up to assess the size while wondering why they didn’t have fitting rooms. She could not believe the prices… I could feel it was hard letting go of her old life, but she was willing to adapt.

I stood there remembering, walking up Beacon Hill as a young college student in Boston to Filene’s Basement, an institution where clothes were marked down according to how long they were on the floor. Beautiful designer finds were strewn across tables and piled in bins. Women of all ages and socio-economic classes would try things on in the aisles, either having a friend shield them by holding up a coat or just wiggling things underneath their arms and legs. Coming from a small town in NJ, I was shocked and simultaneously exhilarated and enchanted.

When we returned to her apartment, someone asked Kay how she liked Costco; “I loved it,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. Next up, a huge art supply store in East! OH, and the morning before the Costco trip, last Friday I played “Mahjongg in the Mansion,” a fundraiser for Cheekwood Arboretum and Museum – and I won a travel tile set in the raffle!

Read Full Post »

Teatime

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on May 12, 2026| Leave a Comment »

Hoping everyone had a pleasant Mother’s Day weekend.

The Bride surprised me yesterday with High Tea at Thistle Farms. We had scones and petite sandwiches, tiny quiches and tarts and of course, Tea – Lavender Earl Grey. Since we had both experienced afternoon tea in Canada on recent trips, we felt like true aficionados! It’s rare that I get to spend time alone with my delightful daughter; her life is busy with work and the Grands’ sports activities. I cherish the time we get to walk along the Greenway with her dog Maple, just the two of us, without husbands and friends, and chat like old biddies.

On Sunday I cooked a fairly simple meal and the Bride baked her special sourdough bread. Bob picked up my sister Kay, looking regal for the occasion. The Pumpkin showed her his sketchbook of imaginary creatures and robots, and she praised his incredible imagination. We capped off Mother’s Day dinner with my famous, three-layer-deluxe-carrot-cake and let the Love Bug spread the toasted coconut cream cheese frosting, which is her favorite activity, next to volleyball.

Unfortunately, we tucked into everything so fast I forgot to take a picture! Maybe that’s a good thing?

Remember when we called ourselves the “Sandwich Generation?” We lived in Rumson, NJ juggling young children and trying to help Grandma Ada and Grandpa Hudson while they were still living in the same big, empty, Dover, NJ house an hour away from us. The marriage and family therapist and the woodcarver. We felt like we were stuck in the middle; endlessly playing catch-up with parenting or taking care of elderly parents. Don’t get me wrong, it could be fun but exhausting nonetheless. It’s a familiar refrain. Only, we’re all living longer; sometimes if we’re lucky, into our 90s. And hips break, and memory fades.

So now we’re living in the Club Sandwich Generation! I didn’t patent the phrase but maybe I will. We have new Grandbabies out in California, and we’ve relocated Kay a mile away while her elevator is being replaced in Carnegie Hill. The Twins are learning to walk, I’m learning Mahjongg, the Bride has started her own practice, Bluebird, MD. and Kay is studying T’ai Chi! When I used the Club Sandwich analogy, the Bride asked if we were the pickles!!

And BTW, the Bride was interviewed on a podcast for Mother’s Day about being a physician mom! She talked about pumping in the bathroom after the Bug was born, and now the ER has a lactation room for new mom nurses and doctors. I remember watching Downton Abbey while she was home nursing and doing her patient notes at the same time. Everything stopped at 5 PM at Highclere Castle for Tea! She was lucky to get a peanut butter cracker during an ER shift.

Aging is inevitable. I understand why the Flapper studied Buddhism in her later years. We continue to suffer when we expect everything to stay the same, when we cling to our possessions, when we constantly buy into algorithms that suggest the next best thing will bring us happiness, when we can’t stop comparing ourselves to others. If we become fixated on staying young, we are bound to be defeated by surgery and toxins that will turn us into unrecognizable versions of ourselves. I loved this essay today on Substack by “The Doctor Unbound:”

“’Your suffering does not come only from pain, loss, illness, conflict, or uncertainty. Much of it comes from your demand that life stop producing these things. You are fighting the nature of existence itself.’” Then he explained that peace does not emerge from constructing a perfect life free of difficulty. It emerges from changing one’s relationship to craving, control, fear, and impermanence.“

It’s nice to set aside a day to celebrate our mothers. I think about my Mother every day, how she had to give me up and how lucky I was to land in Victory Gardens with Nell and Jim. I prefer to celebrate International Women’s Day, because just giving birth doesn’t make you a good mother. And not every woman wants to deliver a child into this world. And some people are estranged from their biological mothers. And some women just cannot conceive, no matter the cost or trials of IVF. Mothering in this country is not as easy as it might be in say Scandinavian countries, in fact, it can be quite pickling. We have an incoherent president who calls himself the father of IVF!

On a brighter note, we had a new visitor to our bird feeder this week – the Rose Breasted Grosbeak!

Read Full Post »

Medical Migration

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on April 21, 2026| Leave a Comment »

It all started when our Great Aunt Mary had heart surgery. We were away on vacation when my MIL’s sister had her heart valve replaced by a pig valve at a hospital on Long Island. Her son was an orthopedic surgeon at the same hospital because MD is a gene that runs in our family. What could go wrong? Mary was in her early 80s, and this procedure was supposed to prevent minor complications in the future, but instead a blood clot traveled up to her brain and she had a major stroke.

Ada would drive into New York to visit her older sister almost every day. Mary was pretty spectacular as older sisters go – a talented musician, she taught me the Yiddish lullaby I sang every night to my babies and the Rocker is singing to his babies. It’s a magical tune about raisins and goats and to this day can make the L’il Pumpkin close his eyes and enter a dream state! When we returned from our trip, we visited Great Aunt Mary and noticed a flock of small bluebirds had appeared at her bedside.

It was the start of a collection. Ada had been delivering tiny, glass and porcelain bluebirds to Mary as a reminder that all will be well and her happiness would return, just like the migrating bluebirds.

So it was inevitable that when the Bride decided to pivot, and leave hospital-based Emergency Medicine, with its brutal schedule, administrative horsehockey, and clinical intensity, she would call her new venture, “Bluebird, MD.” I saw the change happening during the pandemic; the showers before hugging her children, the slowing down, the constant battle in a red state to enforce health guidelines for Covid. She wanted something better, for herself and her family. She and her husband were on the front lines of a war at that time, in the ER and the ICU. And You. Know. Who. was our Commander in Chief.

Many people migrate at midlife. We moved from watching herons fly over the Shrewsbury River on the Jersey Shore, to watching Pileated Woodpeckers demolish trees in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Midlife is a time to reflect and consider alternatives – a sort of existential right of passage. To quote an existential therapist: “… you have a responsibility to show up to your life. You can’t avoid it, in all its pain and beauty, by living in the past—personal histories and buried traumas matter, and they might inform the present, but it won’t do to dwell on them.”

And for some of us, we wake up and wonder if we’re really where we want to be – are we happy?

When Bob retired from his ER practice, I knew my happy place was near our grandchildren, and so we moved again. Flying further south, to Nashville. I wanted to be present for all the skinned knees – for the roses and the thorns. Just this past weekend, I sat on a bleacher in a huge gym in Franklin, TN with the Bride as we cheered on the Bug’s volleyball team. Did I almost get hit in the head with a ball? Yes. Was I happy? You betcha!

I’m proud of my daughter for cutting ties with the hospital and opening her own practice this year. Bluebird, MD is a mobile Urgent Care practice. You can actually call and speak with a person… a doctor! You can schedule a same day appointment or have a remote visit. It’s not concierge medicine, there’s no fee to join, it’s a direct care practice. They don’t take insurance, there are “… no barriers or delays of the traditional insurance-based system.” She’s come full circle; her Grandfather also made house calls. https://www.bluebird-md.com/

Yesterday I delivered one of Ada’s glass bluebirds to my older sister Kay. She’s working on a watercolor of peonies, and when she held the small bird in her hand exclaimed, “Oh, I can paint him!” This bluebird pic was captured at Radnor Lake.

https://www.instagram.com/bluebirdmdnashville?igsh=MnI2Z2Zkb254N3Ns

Read Full Post »

On the Brink

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on April 8, 2026| 2 Comments »

This morning I said to Bob, “At least we didn’t annihilate a civilization.” His response; “We are annihilating our own.”

And in some ways it’s true. After 250 years, our democracy is fading rapidly. Republican senators cannot find the courage to confront our Commander in Chief. Generals have been purged and we’re left with leaders in Congress and the military without a backbone or a soul. A Turkish proverb says: “When a clown takes over the palace, he does not become king, it’s the palace that becomes a circus.”

But yesterday I was busy with my sister Kay. Her elevator is being replaced on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, and so she’s flown South to discover the joys of a Nashville Spring. Since our DADU is mid-construction, she moved into an independent senior living apartment only a mile up the road. She will have two restaurants and a cafe in the building, along with a plethora of activities to attend if she sees fit! There are art classes, which she could teach, and armchair pickleball, or even Mahjongg.

As one might with any nonagenarian, we got around to discussing legacy. Kay and I watched Jane Fonda on Substack talking about wanting her children to be proud of her, and about doing the things in life we are afraid of because at the end, we’ll regret the things we didn’t do… and Kay said, “I was never afraid of anything.”

It wasn’t really surprising, because after all my sister was a stewardess in the 50s and 60s, when women had to be weighed and measured. She has defied the odds of our Year of Living Dangerously; she lost our Father at the age of 14 and promptly fell into a coma like a Disney princess after the automobile accident that nearly killed our Mother and sent me on my own trajectory from PA to NJ. She’s had her share of suitors, two husbands and a distinguished career in medical illustration and sonography. And she raised her daughter, alone, with a little help from Camp St Joseph in the summers.

I asked Kay once, ‘Where is your happy place?’ She looked into the near distance and remembered visiting camp with the Flapper on weekends, “…my daughter would run down cabin lane and jump in my arms.” This from a woman who’s traveled around the world a few times!

I’m sorry this will have to be short today, we are still busy hanging pictures, unpacking suitcases and getting Kay oriented. It’s not like New York, it’s slower and calmer and warmer and dreamier here in the South. But at least our country didn’t bomb another country into oblivion. If I’d had time to think about it, I would have been very afraid.

Here is a picture of my beautiful sister Kay in her NY apartment in front of an oil painting she did in one day at the Art Student’s League.

Read Full Post »

Tulip Peonies

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on March 24, 2026| Leave a Comment »

The peonies outside my snug are starting to bud. Our cherry tree blossoms are littering the path to the old garage currently getting a facelift. Spring has officially sprung! Along with pollinators and robins frolicking in the bird bath, bluebirds visiting our feeder, our yard is alive with the sounds of construction. This is a time for reinvention – a time before the humidity of summer dampens our best efforts.

So of course I signed up for “The Good List.” I’ll be getting a weekly newsletter from Melissa Kirsch, a NYTimes journalist, who compiles all the things worthy of our attention that might just bring us joy. In her bio I’ve read that she will remain apolitical, she writes: “My beat is broadly about how to lead a meaningful life. I’m interested in the eternal human pursuit of happiness, connection and community and the ways in which technological advancement both helps and hinders these aims.”

It sounds a lot like her beat is similar to mine, minus the technological bits of course… and the apolitical. My purpose is more connecting the dots between the personal and political. And almost every night, Bob and I like to recite at least three things that we were grateful for that day. Our pillow talk ranges from mundane to philosophical. I feel like it sets the stage for my brain to recover and dream good thoughts, to reinvent our dystopian reality. I wake wondering why Bob is hanging pictures, when it’s only a wall going up in the new/old/garage/casita.

Did you know that our brains could use a little down time during the day as well? Boredom is actually a gift I’ve tried to give my children and grandchildren. “How could you be bored?” I’d say, while explaining all the wonderful things they could be doing like reading, or just taking a walk and noticing plants along the way, or not. I remember the surprise of the Bride’s little friend when I said we were going for a walk in the woods, to nowhere. She was actually shocked. But it’s a scientific fact, we need to stop our monkey mind every now and again to recharge – it’s called the “default mode.”

“The default mode network is a bunch of structures in your brain that switch on when you don’t have anything else to think about. So, you forgot your phone and you’re sitting at a light, for example. That’s when your default mode network goes on. We don’t like it.” https://hbr.org/2025/08/you-need-to-be-bored-heres-why

I would say most people don’t like it. That’s why our phones have become small, addictive antidotes to boredom. Maybe I do write about techy things! Say you’re standing in line at Starbucks and everyone is looking down, at their phones. Or maybe you’re stuck in a TSA line at an airport, that devious device becomes a way out of the chaos. After the Groom returned home from Europe this past weekend, he was Facetiming with the Bride in Memphis. Our sporty Love Bug was playing in a volleyball tournament, and while I spoke with them I asked why the video on his phone was black and white? “It’s his phone Mom,” she said laughing.

The Groom’s default mode is black and white to make his phone less appealing! Genius.

I lose my phone ALL the time. It’s teetering on the toaster, or lost in the bed covers. Sometimes I need Bob to call me so I can find it, although my Saint of Lost Things would prefer to search for it. For a long time I was feeling like dementia was right around the corner, I’d be dialing my microwave to call someone in no time. Until the Groom told me that misplacing my phone was a good sign – it means I’M NOT ATTACHED TO IT. Phew.

I think artists in particular need to engage their default mode. Our brains need time to rest and let some creativity bubble up; if we start doom scrolling on our phones we’re likely to end up wherever that algorithm takes us. I like to say my best ideas come to me in the shower. The Bride thinks I should listen to podcasts while I walk, but then I wouldn’t meet Molly, the senior Shiba Inu who is pushed like a queen in her stroller. The Flapper once told me, “Everyone has a story,” and I don’t want to miss any of them.

After we hung up with the Love Bug, I rushed out to Trader Joes to get some tulip peonies for our returning volleyball champion. I had read on The Good List that these flowers were currently available for a very limited time. I’d never heard of tulips that look like peonies, two of my very favorites combined to trumpet in Spring. Well, Nashville’s TJs had never heard of them either, but I did find some purple tulips.

This picture is from Spring Break in Paris! The Pumpkin is almost as tall as me.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »