Old Lady

I am starting to feel old.

Not feel like a grownup - despite the husband and the mortgage and the nice respectable career, that feeling still eludes my grasp. I just feel old more often than I'd like.

It's hard to ignore the signs. I've got some grey hairs growing in. Right at my part, of course, and sticking straight up where they can catch the sun and reflect rays back in blinding silver. My joints creak dangerously when I get out of bed. I say "oof" more often than I want to, when I'm changing position. Without my pill reminder, I would forget to take my pills. My feet hurt sometimes for absolutely no reason. I buy underwear for comfort. I think my doctor might be younger than me.

Older family members are slowing down, taking more medications and fewer risks. The oldest ones are leaving me.

Time is moving faster. My nephew is talking. Thanksgiving is here again. I've been far from home for almost 5 years. Married two-and-a-half. How is any of that possible?

I can't ask time to stop, of course. If it did, I'd never see how my nephew will look as a teenager. Or how that Hobbit movie will turn out. I just wish I knew how to slow my perception of time's passing, to make it easier to enjoy all the moments. To cherish what's here and what's now. It's so very important that I learn how, so I don't look back and wonder how I missed so much.

Writing Assignment #3

There was no writing class last week, because of Hurricane Sandy, so I had two weeks to work on my "character" assignment. I started it and restarted it and walked away from it and got generally very grumpy at it over those two weeks. This is an important story for me. This is the first time I met Michelle, who would go on to be a very dear friend for - holy crap, almost two decades now. I can't swear that this is exactly how it happened. In fact, I'm probably wrong about much of it. But my hope is that the essence of that evening comes through anyway. I feel like I had to wrestle this one onto the page!

Michelle gave me her blessing to post this.

Meeting Michelle

The beat faded. Movement in the room slowed. Costumed dancers glanced around for a cue, shuffling their feet, ready for the next song. The first notes of a Bon Jovi power ballad began over the last of the pumping bass, and the crowd diffused. Boys gathered by the long tables folded against the wall, and girls huddled near the foggy windows. The school's few established couples moved to the center of the cafeteria to rock back and forth, hands an arm's length away on each others hips or shoulders. 

I sighed. The glass of the window was cold on my back.

“God, will they stop playing these slows?” Melissa huffed. “Nobody dances to these stupid things and they keep playing them.” She watched the boys' side as she said it, her eyes dancing around as she tried to avoid staring directly at Mike. He was oblivious to her gaze, as usual.

I rolled my eyes at her.

“Whatever, Mel, if you're not going to ask him, it's your own stupid fault you're stuck over here.”

She glared at me.

“I'm not stuck anywhere. I'm going to buy a drink.”

Obscured by the dark haze of the dance floor, we played our assumed characters with a measure of confidence, but under the fluorescent lights of the canteen area, our careful makeup and our homemade costumes seemed amateurish. I adjusted my pink poodle skirt, moving the fluffy white poodle appliqué back to the right side. Mel twisted her hairsprayed curls and straightened the headband holding up her devil horns.

The price list was fixed to the canteen kiosk with wide blue strips of painter’s tape. Brightly-markered bubble letters announced the going rates for drinks, chips, and chocolate bars.

“I'll get us some Cokes,” I said, reaching into my purse for some money. “You can owe me.”

The girl running the canteen wasn’t wearing a costume. She stood expectantly in the little kiosk, waiting for my order. I recognized her as the new girl, who had appeared in the halls at the start of the school year, but couldn’t remember her name. She didn’t share any classes with me, so we’d never spoken.

“Two Cokes, please,” I asked, putting three loonies on the counter.

Mel poked me in the ribs. I glared at her and sighed loudly.

“Aaaand a bag of Doritos.” I added a another dollar.

The canteen girl had our Cokes out of the cooler and the chips on the counter in a flash, and handed me back my change – two quarters.

“Nice costume,” she offered. “Where did you get that skirt?”

“Thanks,” I replied, “my Mom threw it together.”

In fact, Mom had put so much effort into my costume that she’d even used a gold-tone chain from her own jewelry box as the poodle’s sparkling leash.

Mel popped open her Coke and took a sip, and we all stood there for a second, unsure who was supposed to say what next. At that moment, the volume of the music in the next room jumped up a little, and canteen girl turned her head towards it excitedly.

“Aw man, it’s the Twist! Somebody’s gotta come and dance with me!” She looked at Mel and me, hopeful.

Mel shrugged and popped a chip into her mouth, crunching. I looked at canteen girl and raised my eyebrows, gesturing to my white sweater, wide, tulle-puffed skirt, and crisp white socks and sneakers.

“Ummm…” I offered, “Duh!”

We were probably the only ones on the dance floor – I don’t recall. All I remember is the way my sides ached from my vigorous Twisting, and how my arm almost jerked out of its socket when canteen girl and I tried to get fancy with a twirl. We went up and down and round and round until the DJ moved on to something else, leaving us to pant our way back to the canteen.

“That was so much fun!” Canteen girl smiled at me. She held out her hand. “I’m Michelle.”

 

The note

Dave went on a fishing expedition this weekend, for which he had to be up and out of the house by 5am. When I told him I wanted to get up with him to see him off, he told me that was silly, and he'd let me sleep.

"But I need to kiss you goodbye!" I protested.

"Why? It'll be 5am. You can kiss me when I get home."

I was a little ashamed to admit my reasons. "If... if something happens to you, I won't have kissed you goodbye. I don't think I could live with that."

"Happens to me?" He laughed. "I'm going fishing. For a day. Not even a whole day."

"You could drown! The boat could sink!"

"I can swim."

"But with those stupid boots of yours, you'll sink to the bottom like a rock and meet a watery demise! Never to be seen again!"

He put his hand on mine to reassure me. "We'll stay out of the deep end. I'll be fine."

Not willing to push the issue or to force him to wear floaties in front of his friends, I acquiesced.

"Fine. But can you leave me a note, so I have that to cling to during the lonely nights when I'm mourning your tragic fishing death?"

A twinkle arose in his eyes. "Oh," he smiled, "I'll leave you a note."

This is what I found on the kitchen counter in the morning:

Reads: "Upon my death, please cling here"

Sigh. I married a smartass.

Marian Call's European Adventure Quest

I adore Marian Call.

I first became acquainted with her talent on JoCoCruiseCrazyII in February of 2012. She was one of the performers, but because her room was across the hall from mine, I met her before the ship even left Fort Lauderdale. A pretty redhead with a suitcase stopped in a doorway, said "Hi, I'm Marian," and held out her hand for a good cordial shake. After our short, polite, how-do-you-do exchange, we retreated to our separate rooms. That's when my husband told me I'd been speaking to a famous person! I'd heard that stars were generally bitchier and antisocial, so I guess that's why I didn't recognize her. Too nice for show biz.

Her show knocked my socks off. You know that episode of the Simpsons, where Bart and his buddies end up in Branson Missouri at an Andy Williams show, and Nelson is completely entranced? 

 

I was Nelson for her whole show. (Note: nobody was asleep or drooling during Marian's show, so the analogy isn't perfect. But I was still totally Nelsony the whole time.) Here's what I said about her in my cruise recap post:

Did I enjoy the concert? Well, I came home with Marian's double album, and would have come back with even more of her stuff if the gift shop hadn't been sold out of it. But Marian is so, so incredibly wonderful, that she handed out free download cards to the Sea Monkeys so we could all go to her site and get some of her music, even if we were too poor to buy albums on the high seas. Her concert absolutely blew me away. I was chatting with Dave about how I hoped the show would be good, and then the lights went down and she started her first song, Love and Harmony, and I was hooked. Some of her songs are silly, and some of them will reach inside you and push buttons you didn't know were there. I cried at Anchorage, and I didn't even cry when Bambi's mother died. While I enjoy Marian's albums very much, I think she's the sort of performer whose voice really comes alive in a live show. She tours a lot and does very small shows - look her up, ask her to come to your town. You won't regret it.

She's got a new album coming out - Something Fierce - and it's wonderful. Sometimes light and catchy, sometimes a little deep, and immensely re-listen-to-able. I find myself coming to my car after work and fishing out her CD to listen to whichever one of her songs has spent the whole day rattling around in my head. I wish I was a better music reviewer so I could describe the album and her music in fancy terms, but I'm not. All I can say is I like it a lot, I think she's incredibly talented, and I hope my friends check her stuff out and give her a listen. You can download two of her songs for free here - it can't hurt to try, right?

The album is being released with fanfare, of course, as all albums should, but Marian is a geek and she knows her fans well. Her recent European tour was funded by a Kickstarter campaign and was given a video game theme. She took the theme even further for the ramp-up to the album release, giving her loyal fans "Quests" to complete. She gets press, we have fun and interact with other fans. It's absolutely win-win, and it's been a blast so far.

I'll be participating in her Quests for the next two weeks, and I'll be reporting back on the game once I'm done. Stay tuned!

A Limerick for a Mythbuster

Here's my best effort, just for fun. It doesn't fit on Twitter, or I'd just post it there.


This Mythbuster suddenly died
When a pumpkin into his head flied.
Instead of a wake
His body was baked
Because his poor head had been pied.


Edited to add: Silly me, not yet used to Twitter. You split it up into multiple tweets, of course! And I even did that part wrong. Sigh. Don't judge the newbie! Oh well. I'm leaving it here because I think it's pretty good.

We survived Sandy!

Many of my friends are doing a "30 days of gratitude" exercise through the month of November. I applaud the concept, but I don't think I'm going to be able to dedicate my blog to gratitude all this month. It's not that I have nothing to be grateful for, it's that a lot of it is difficult to put into words. Maybe I'll manage a thoughtful and introspective post around thanksgiving, while I'm immobilized by a food coma. That said, I do need to express how very, very grateful I am that we came away from Hurricane Sandy with only minor inconvenience.

We didn't lose a single tree. Only some small branches broke off in the wind, and none of the siding or gutters or roof have even a scratch. Despite some serious water pooling on the side of the house, we had no flooding in the basement. There was water collecting in the garage, which we expected and prepared for by moving most items off the floor.

Our house didn't lose power until Monday evening, and since the government shutdown kept us both home form work, we both got to spend a day here on the couch, watching TV together. It rained incredibly hard for the entire day, and the wind picked up steadily into the afternoon and evening, so I was surprised the electricity stayed on as long as it did. We spent the first night at home, sleeping under some extra blankets, but in the morning we decided to head to Dave's parents' place for a hot shower and a meal. They were also kind enough to let us keep our food in their fridge and freezer, a transfer made easier thanks to my weekend freezer organizing.

As usual when this sort of thing happens, we left the cats behind with extra food and water. Because it was cold in the house (56 was the lowest I saw, so it wasn't that bad) I left extra blankets on the couch so they could burrow and snuggle in a warm kitty pile.

Miraculously, the power was back on by Wednesday night, and the heater switched back on immediately without us needing to reset anything. I was expecting a week off the grid, given BGE's historical restoration pattern! I'm not sure why everything went so much more quickly this time. Maybe fewer communities lost power, compared to Irene and the derecho, or maybe they're finally getting their act together after the state and county laced into them about their previous failures. Either way, I am delighted to be back in my own home so soon, and I'm so grateful that our property and our persons are intact.

Not everyone was so lucky. I know several people in New York and New Jersey who had to leave their homes because of a lack of power and water, or who are toughing it out beside their fireplaces, trying to stay warm.

I've made a small donation to the American Red Cross, whose disaster relief teams are on the ground in the affected areas, doing what they do, helping people stay warm and fed and safe.

Because the storm caused many blood drives to be canceled and shut down donor centers and blood transportation for a few days, the Red Cross has put a call out for donations. Especially if you live outside of the affected areas, please consider making a donation of blood or platelets. The Red Cross normally only has a buffer of about 2-3 days' worth of blood products even in disaster-free times, so a pause in collections in a big area like this can have bad consequences across the country.

See redcrossblood.org to find a donor center or community blood drive near you. And if you can't or don't feel comfortable donating, then tell a friend, or say something on Facebook or Twitter about the need for blood. Every little bit helps.

Hurricane Readiness: Freezer Edition

This summer, a freak storm called a “derecho” ripped through Maryland, Virginia, and DC, pulling down hundreds of trees and leaving our neighborhood without power for a full week. I think the overall damage to power lines may have actually been worse than with Hurricane Irene. BGE's response was chaotic and disorganized and their customer service abysmal. I did my best not to abuse the telephone representatives, since obviously they couldn't fix any wires for me, but when one of them told me I should be better prepared for power outages and maybe I should get a generator if it happened often... I may have gotten a little rude. I still can't believe that the power company had the balls to tell me essentially “Yeah, we can't guarantee power to your neighborhood, so you should buy a generator. Oh, and keep paying those extortionate bills, please.”

We are planning on buying a whole-home generator eventually, one that runs on natural gas and would switch on automatically, but they're quite expensive and need professional installation, so we don't have it yet. That means I need a backup plan to save my food.

When the derecho hit us, we had recently filled up the freezer with stuff from Costco. Like many people, we use our freezer to stock up on meat when it's on sale, and to store leftovers after cooking in big batches. Just ask my pal Tasha how useful a freezer can be. Unfortunately, that means that if the freezer dies or the power is interrupted for too long, we lose a whole lot of food and, by extension, money.

Once it was obvious that the power wasn't going to return quickly enough to rescue our food, we filled up a large Rubbermaid storage bin with the more valuable stuff, like chicken breasts and tilapia fillets, and drove over to my brother-in-law's place. He was kind enough to give us space in his big upright freezer, allowing us to minimize our food losses. Since we only had the one big bin to use, we left some items behind in our freezer along with bags of ice to keep them cold. What was left was mostly things that weren't as expensive to replace or that could handle being thawed and refrozen, like bagels, cheese, and frozen fruit and vegetables. Unfortunately, it did not occur to me that the frozen fruit and vegetables, once thawed, would be very wet and squishy. Also unfortunately, the bags they come in are not completely watertight. Maybe they are when they come from the manufacturer, but once they've been shoved around in a freezer for a while, they develop very tiny holes. Holes that don't become a problem until the stuff inside is melting in an inadequately cooled freezer, releasing brightly colored juices all over the goddamn place.

Blueberry juice, for the record, is very difficult to get out of a freezer.

This weekend, we're waiting uncomfortably under the threat of another hurricane, Sandy, who is aimed directly at the Mid-Atlantic region. We're being told to expect several days of heavy rain and strong winds, because she's a very large storm. Landfall is predicted to occur Monday night somewhere between Virginia and New York, but the impact on the whole region is expected to be pretty huge. I'm obeying all of the rules of hurricane preparedness, except for buying eggs and milk and bread, because without power, those are fairly useless to have around. Why in the world do people buy those up when a storm comes?

This time around, I'm trying to avoid as much food wastage as I possibly can, so I have a plan. First, eat the food. And don't buy more. That's the easiest way not to waste any. I skipped my grocery run this week, knowing the storm is on its way, and we've been trying to cook up freezer foods for our meals. Spaghetti and garlic bread. Chicken breasts and pierogies. Lots of ice cream.

Then, a triage of the freezer contents. Here's what the freezer looked like on Friday evening. Pretty full, and very messy.

I pulled everything out and piled it up on the counter. I took out everything that could stand to thaw and re-freeze, and moved it to the second freezer we have in the mud room. It's not as good as the kitchen freezer and will probably lose its cold much more quickly. In the kitchen freezer, I used metal baking sheets and pans to contain any foods that might leak. Stuff I care less about went into the back of the freezer, and the meat, fish, and pastas that I'd want to rescue are closer to the front. Nearly everything is in a container of some sort, which will make it easier to retrieve if we need to move it to a neighbor's generator-powered freezer, or to a family member's place.

Here's the freezer after all that work.

I also bought a case of water bottles, both for drinking and for stuffing into the freezer for use as ice packs. They'll help keep the freezer cold longer when the power's out, and then they'll still be drinkable. They also fit into small spaces very well, so they work better than a big bag of ice. A full freezer maintains its temperature much better than an empty one, so I could have left the bagels and things in here, but I also want to be able to grab and go when it's time to transfer the food. Having the trays in there will make it easier to select what we want to bring, depending on the space available to us in someone else's freezer. I plan on consolidating important fridge items as well, just in case.

I've done all I can to be ready for the storm. I downloaded the American Red Cross Hurricane app for my phone, so I can get alerts and information. I programmed my phone with numbers for BGE, homeowner's insurance, and my employer's emergency information line so I can see if work is closed. I also have those numbers on a board in the kitchen. I have a full tank of gas in the car. I have cash, because if the power outage is huge, some places that may be open may not be able to take credit or debit cards if the system is down. I've got enough kibble for the cats, and some food for us, although last time we were powerless we just went out to eat all the time since most places got their power back within a day. If necessary, we can cook on the grill. I have enough of my medications to get me through a few weeks – I won't need that much, of course, but medications weren't something I had even thought about until someone at work brought it up. If I were right at the end of a bottle of something and needed a refill this week, it might be a problem. We have plug-in storm flashlights in almost every room so that we can have light at hand when the power dies. The big flashlight battery is charged in the garage. I've moved all the candles and matches to a central location so we don't have to rummage around at night to find anything. We'll be moving trash cans and plastic flower pots into the garage in case the wind gets really bad. We'll sleep downstairs so trees can't fall on us. We have a ton of water bottles, wine, and board games.

There's nothing else we can do now but wait. And keep eating.

Writing Assignment #2

This week's assignment was a challenge for me. I'm glad, as that's why I signed up for a class - if I'm not challenged, I'm not improving or learning. The homework was to show the class a character, and to use dialogue to help paint a better picture. I hate dialogue. It's hard. Making story people sound like real people has always been the weakest area in my writing. Either they sound stiff and artificial, or everyone sounds like me, and neither of those makes for a particularly compelling bit of writing.

I decided to use a bit of my recent tribute to my grandmother, and convert it into a short scene with dialogue. This way, I also took on the challenge of rewriting a piece in a new way. My teacher recommended that exercise last week after the class heard my piece about the elephants. My classmates thought it seemed too calm and detached for its subject matter, and that the story was emotionless. I'm disappointed, because my goal was to express how surreal the moment was, and I liked the end result. What did you think of it? I'd really appreciate more feedback, if anyone wants to speak up, for good or for bad. Eventually, I will rewrite the elephant story with more excitement and expression, just for the practice, but this class is short and I don't want to present the same story two weeks in a row.  

Here's what I'll be sharing with my class this week.

A Cuppa Tea with Momo

I settled in at the kitchen table, nudging the cat from her nap on the seat cushion. Momo stood by the stove, whistling teakettle in hand, and turned to me as I tucked my purse under the chair.

"Shall I make us a cuppa?"

I opened my mouth to decline the offer, but thought better of it. To decline a cup of tea from Momo was to invite an offer of half a cup.

"Sure," I answered her in what I hoped was an enthusiastic voice, "I'd love some tea."

She turned back to the stove and poured the boiling water over the tea bags in her old Corningware teapot and hummed to herself about what one ought to do with a drunken sailor early in the morning. She lined up two mugs on the counter and very carefully poured the hot tea into them, using a bent finger to guide the teapot's spout. Her tea was always served in sturdy, sensible coffee mugs - never a dainty China teacup for my Momo.

She placed my full mug of tea on one of the woven placemats as she eased herself into the chair across from me, sighing with a smile as the weight came off her tired feet.

"One lump or two, my dear?" She took the sugar bowl in one hand as she lowered the spoon into it, and then shifted her hand to hold her mug as she brought the spoon full of sugar towards it. She clinked the spoon around to mix it in, then reached towards my cup.

"I got it, Momo," I said, gently taking the spoon from her hand and adding my own sugar.

The radio by the window was tuned to the CJAD talk station, and she reached over to turn the volume low so we could enjoy our tea. The calendar on the wall nearby was turned to the right month, I noticed. My aunt was doing a good job keeping Momo organized. Some of the large-print dates were circled in bright red marker. Doctor's appointments? Birthdays? There wasn't room in the boxes on the calendar for all her notes, which found their way onto Post-its and scratch paper stuck to the wall and countertop, everything in bold black marker so her eyes could make sense of the letters later.

"Have you had lunch yet?" She raised a fluffy white eyebrow in inquiry and placed her hands on the edge of the table to help push herself up.

"Oh, Momo, don't worry about me. Please, just tea is fine." I held up my cup with a smile to prove it.

She ignored me, standing with a quiet "oof" and walking towards the fridge to have a look inside. She pulled the door open decisively, rustling the scribbled reminders held onto the surface by round rainbow magnets.

"I've got some yogurt," she said,  holding out the cup to show me. I could make out a blueberry on the label, peeking out from between her fingers. When I made no response, she turned back, burying her head in the fridge, and called out "Carrots! I've got some carrots and there's got to be some dip in here somewhere! What do you like, ranch? Or how about a nice toasted tomato sandwich?"

"Momo, really," I protested. "I'm okay. I'm not hungry. Come drink your tea!"

Unconvinced, she moved to the pantry and moved things around on the shelves until she pulled her hand back out clutching a yellow box.

"May Wests!" She shook the box and the snack cakes rustled inside. I sighed.

"Okay, I'll take one."

Triumphant, she tore open the box, pulled out a cake, and plunked it down in front of me with a grin. She waited as I ripped open the cellophane and took my first bite.

"So," she began, cradling her tea in both hands and leaning her rough elbows on the table, "How's work these days?"

Schrodinger's Grief

October will never be the same.

It's always been my favorite month, without fail, for as long as I can remember making lists of my favorite things.

October in Montreal is beautiful, with red maples and golden birches dropping their leaves to dance in the chilly breezes of fall before being crunched by happy feet. Burning daybreaks made more radiant, reflected in frosty windows and seen through the fog of a warm breath. Autumn colors brought out, in coats and sweaters and corduroy, reflecting the jewel that the world is becoming before it will fade to the quiet grey of winter.

October is for my birthday, for memories of carefully-counted candles in chocolate cake, wished on with closed eyes and extinguished to the sounds of singing and applause. It's for turkey and cranberries, for family and friends giving thanks for our blessings as we enjoy each other's company around a full and crowded table. It's for carving pumpkins and putting tiny Kit-Kats into the outstretched bags of fairies and superheroes.

It's still all of those things, of course. The world goes on as it used to. But this October changed me. I have never known grief before this, and I haven't decided yet how I will deal with it. Much of it is very personal, and I'm not ready to share everything with the world, but there's too much hurt right now for me to keep from writing, and I think it's therapeutic to share, at least a little.

Some moments, I am able to see my loss through the lens of logic, and understand that death and loss is part of life, and thus not fair or unfair, not cruel. It simply is. Momo is gone - nobody took her from us, and she didn't abandon us. She was old, and she was sick. She died. That is the way of things.

But loss stretches into the future as well as the past and the painful present. Once gone, a person can't change and grow and laugh with you. You're left with a static past that will never change unless you start to forget. You've reached the end of the book. There's no sequel, no way to know what could have happened next. That is what I mourn more than anything. That there will be no new memories.

At any given moment, the logic and the pain coexist uncomfortably inside me. It's Schrodinger's grief, both present and absent, the current moment's truth only detected if directly observed. Like Schrodinger did with his cat, I hold my grief in a small box, windowless. I am afraid to look, to examine my grief, because I am equally afraid to learn that it's alive or that it's dead. If I can carry it with me, this box, and never look inside it, maybe I can remain forever in this middle ground between being paralyzed by the pain and forcing myself to forget it while surrounding myself with other joys.

Cranberry and Apricot Pork Chops

This is a variation on a recipe I've posted in the past: Cranberry Pork Chops.

The reason for the variation is that halfway through making dinner, I discovered I did not have any marmalade left. Oops. I did have apricot jam, however, and I've had success using that with pork before, so I decided to smash two recipes together and hope for an edible result.

It worked!

How to make delicious happen:

4 pork chops

1/2 to 3/4 cup fresh cranberries, halved

Apricot jam, 3-4 tablespoons

Preheat your oven to 350.

Season the pork chops with salt and pepper, then brown them, for about 2 minutes a side, in a pan that can be transferred straight to the oven. I like to use my favorite Le Creuset Braiser for this sort of thing. Sometimes you can find those at Home Goods at a steep discount, and I'm sure other brands are good too, but this one is was a gift from my Mom and it's gorgeous and I try to use it often.

While they're browning up, a small bowlful of halved fresh cranberries with enough apricot jam to hold them all together, which in my experiment, came to about 3 tablespoons.

Once the chops have some color, put a dollop of the cranberry goo on top of each one. Add a few tablespoons of water to the pan (enjoy the sizzle!) and then transfer it to the oven, covered, for about 20 minutes. Check the temperature with a meat thermometer - pork chops come in varied thicknesses and yours may take longer to cook through.

If you've got some liquid left in the pan, move the pork chops to a plate and put the pan back on the stove to boil off and thicken the liquid into a sort of gravy. Add another dollop of the apricot jam if you want it sweet and syrupy. I did, and I loved it!