If you were wondering...

the day went well, I did not lose my temper or make my back worse. The rhubarb pie was excellent and well-received by the intended audience, my husband and son-in-law. I also loved it. Molli had a brownie, thawed from the freezer, warm with vanilla ice cream, so she was happy. The weather was sunny and hot. We sat in the yard and I admired the vegetables we planted. My Dad told stories about Nova Scotia. I had my suit on to go swimming, but Molli did not want to go, which was fine. It was probably crowded and hot.

Let me tell you about the pie and the lessons of growing older. The recipe I chose from the New York Times called for a crust made with lard. Years ago, I had access to some lard and it made some very good pie crusts. At the moment, I have some lard in my fridge that I got from the coop a while back. I think it keeps indefinitely. I followed the instructions and cut it up into the flour. I had my doubts. It did not seem to be behaving the way I wanted a pie crust to behave. I set it aside and started over with butter. I had a delicious flaky pie crust and convinced myself it was okay to waste that dough. You do not always have to do it the hard way, the "right" way. It's okay to give a little lard to the dog instead of using it for a special pie, rather than be angry and disappointed. 

My boss, sadly, called to say he was in the hospital with blood clots in his lungs. He sounded terrible, although he was, as usual, upbeat. They caught it in time, he said. They're just keeping him overnight for observation. I hope so. 

On a day like this

On June 2, 1917, my grandfather, Norman John Bonney, registered for the draft. I am looking at a picture of his draft card. He was 27 and he lived at 113 North St. in Medford Mass. It says he was born April 29, 1890 in Charlestown, Massachusetts. He had gray eyes and was tall and slender, with dark brown hair. He was married with a child 3 years old. That was my Uncle Paul, dead now 14 years. My mother and her sisters are dead too. But we live on, eight of their children and our descendants, because Grampa Bonney did not die in the Great War. I wonder if he was relieved? Or disappointed? He died before I was born, before my parents met, so I cannot ask my Dad, who is alive at 94, about him. Perhaps with unlimited resources and determination I could find someone (who was much younger) who knew him, perhaps only slightly. Maybe a young neighbor, the paper boy. Maybe someone who wanted to be a great bridge player, who admired him and took his classes on bridge. 

It is Memorial Day, the day to remember people who died in the war. People at my church yesterday suggested two other kinds of people to remember: people who died doing other kinds of service: firefighters, social workers, policemen; and people who fought for our country and didn't die. That would include my father-in-law, Raymond Paul Lynde, and my father, although his "fighting" was not as dangerous. I also think of the women left to care for the children and try to hold the family together without a Dad. Even after the Dad came back, he was perhaps hurt in a way that changed his family's life forever. 

On a day like this, when it was cool last night, but not too cool, I slept with the windows open and a quilt over me, cozy and comfortable. The only thing is, the birds and the light woke me before five. Early mornings, I am generally optimistic. I have a plan for today. It is reasonable and calm and relaxed. I will get things done, but take rests so my back doesn't give out. I will have fun and be pleasant. And yet, a little voice tells me, "It won't go that way. You will be in pain and you will be cross and other people won't behave perfectly." Some of the things I have read about pain, specifically back pain, suggest a sort of psychological training that basically teaches you to not be bothered by pain, to live with it. This is possibly preferable to large amounts of drugs or surgery, which is not alway effective. My mother lived with back pain, probably more than anyone knew. As I get older, I feel more and more that I want to emulate her. But, of course, I am my father's child as well. Here's to trying. 

Weather/climate and other changes

It's supposed to be 92 degrees today. At the moment, it's 60...Yesterday it was in the 50s, very foggy all day. After a long, cold winter and spring, I think most people are delighted to have some really warm weather. Last weekend was the first time I've sat out in my yard at all since last fall. I pulled some weeds, too, which I have been really wanting to do. Now that the weather is finally warm enough, my back did its thing, where it spasms and I have to stay in bed and take drugs. I appreciate that there are drugs available to me, and I am less stressed these days, knowing it will eventually get better (although I do have thoughts, what if it never does and I have to spend the rest of my life in bed?). But it sure pisses me off. Really? After all I've done for you, faithfully doing yoga once a week, walking twice a day, even losing weight...and it doesn't help??? I don't know if everyone's brain works like mine, but I am constantly asking myself, what did I do wrong? what could I have done differently? I have good chairs and the driver's seat in my car adjusts several ways, so I can make sure I'm getting good support. I make sure to get up and walk around every hour, thanks to my FitBit reminders. 

Some of the things that may have contributed: a lovely dinner with my sisters, where we were able to eat outside. However, the only table they had for us (after I had made a reservation a week ahead, specifically requesting outside seating) was a kind of picnic table with hard backless benches. I wasn't in pain then but maybe it was a factor. Also, the weed pulling. Also, driving to the airport, trying to read all the signs and communicate with the person arriving...? Who knows? Maybe believing in demons or humors would be as helpful. I am, however, super grateful to be better, although cautious about pulling weeds or doing anything that might set it off. Maybe warm weather will help...

Here's a somewhat mysterious thing. I do most of the cooking at my house. I really like cooking, especially the part where I plan and execute healthy meals that we all like and rarely waste any food. We eat almost every leftover. Since the pandemic, I order almost everything on line from Imperfect, Misfits, and Walden Meats. If there is anything missing, it's my fault...whatever I order, I have to use (or give away?). For the last few months, I have mainly been cooking gluten-free things, in the hope that it will help with my husband's rheumatoid arthritis. I dread his hands turning into lumpy claws and him not being able to walk (which he loves) or do other things with me. I'm not sure it's helping with the RA, but we are both losing weight, which is clearly a good thing. 

The mysterious part? I read a book called Fair Play, about dividing household tasks. Mind you, that is not really a problem for us. My husband does his share and more, cleaning, doing dishes, helping prepare most meals. I read it more because of my interest in women's rights and sociology. I don't agree with everything she says, or where she is coming from. It is mainly for couples with children (God forbid, you should be raising them alone!). She made a list of all the stuff she was responsible for. One of her points is, don't think that actually preparing the meal (for instance) is the same as thinking about it, planning it, and carrying it out. The psychological energy that (mostly) women put into every facet of family life takes a toll. She talks about birthday parties, sitters, thank you notes...things I mostly don't worry about any more. She talks about wardrobe and beauty, things I have never spent a lot of time or psychic energy on. But we tried it. My husband is game, among other things. We divided all our household responsibilities, on paper, discussing what is involved, from conception to execution, and which of us would take it on. In theory, we can change every day or several times a day, more likely on a weekly basis, if it doesn't seem to be working, or something changes (like my back goes out). This system does not allow for nagging, or even asking for help. And it's surprising how much we both like it (after 3 days). It is very freeing to know that I am entirely responsible for all food preparation, from planning to cooking, and that I can take credit for it. I also can leave the kitchen a mess, guilt-free. When I came downstairs this morning, the dishes from yesterday were all done. The counters are clean (so I can mess them up again if I want). It's really amazing how happy we both have been--he has commented on it too. Check back later to see if it continues to be life-changing. I was pretty skeptical. The sociology stuff is great, too. All time is equal (not related to how much you are paid for it). Duh. Don't try for a 50/50 split, just concentrate on which jobs each of you can take on. Also, let some things go (sorry, thank-you notes). Have an honest conversation about how you both feel about various tasks--if it's not important to either of you, take it off the list. It's also important to agree on what constitutes completion. It's based on a corporate model--having standards to meet. After deciding, walk away, no need to criticize or whine. Try it!