"Regular readers have noticed a certain ... thinness ... of blog posting this week." So writes New York Times economist Paul Krugman this morning. "Too many commitments came due at the same time, and I'm swamped."
Me too, Paul. Of course, my swamp does not compare in depth and breadth to his. He has international speaking gigs, classes to teach, and promises to take part in nationally significant panel discussions. I have overdue financial data entry to do at church, "new kid" events here at Terwilliger Plaza, and a felt need to have some staring-into-space time, which in future will masquerade as bird-watching.
And sometimes, one finds one just has nothing to say. I don't know what people who get paid to blog do about that. I've found it's most convenient at such times to just not say anything. (My apologies to those of you who are sensitive to split infinitives. Sometimes the flow of the prose demands an artful awkwardness. Hmmm. Maybe "... just not to say anything" would work, but I really want the "not" closer to the "say" than the proper construction will allow. Feel free to disagree.)
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Monday, March 10, 2014
A peculiar kind of lost
I've been here nearly a month now and find that I'm suffering a peculiar kind of lostness. I want to move into the Terwilliger Plaza space, but my pre-Terwilliger life keeps pulling me away. Example: I was to give a brief talk about this blog to the Terwilliger Users Group tomorrow, but the timing conflicted with a meeting with my realtor to move my prior residence onto the market. Example: I wanted to attend a class in an ongoing series about the brain, this one focusing on sleep and dreams, but my work as treasurer of my church overflowed into the class time despite my best efforts. "I really do need to leave by 2:00," I affirmed. Then it was "...by 2:15", then "...by 2:30", and when I finally left at 3:00, I realized I hadn't eaten lunch, and by the time lunch was attended to, the class was over.
If I had moved here from more than a few blocks away, of course, I wouldn't feel this kind of lost, I'd feel another kind -- maybe missing old friends and the rhythms of old networks, maybe looking out at the Oregon weather and missing a different light, different winds on my skin. But I'm in a new place in an old place, and I am suspended as if in mid-leap over a river with my feet definitely having left the near bank but not yet firmly planted on the far bank.
Maybe it's just daylight saving time stamping the wrong numbers on the shape of my waking time. Springing forward is always disorienting.
Or (my anxieties suggest) maybe I made this move just before Alzheimer's started unraveling my mind and what I'm feeling is the first dissolution of who I am. Old age has so many possibilities, very few of them at all appealing. Except, of course, when compared to the alternative.
If I had moved here from more than a few blocks away, of course, I wouldn't feel this kind of lost, I'd feel another kind -- maybe missing old friends and the rhythms of old networks, maybe looking out at the Oregon weather and missing a different light, different winds on my skin. But I'm in a new place in an old place, and I am suspended as if in mid-leap over a river with my feet definitely having left the near bank but not yet firmly planted on the far bank.
Maybe it's just daylight saving time stamping the wrong numbers on the shape of my waking time. Springing forward is always disorienting.
Or (my anxieties suggest) maybe I made this move just before Alzheimer's started unraveling my mind and what I'm feeling is the first dissolution of who I am. Old age has so many possibilities, very few of them at all appealing. Except, of course, when compared to the alternative.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
one upside of smaller space
I've got slightly more than half as much space here as I did in the condo. And it's stretched out so that the long side of both rooms is windows. I'm sure I could have watched it rain in the condo, but I very seldom did. (Of course, in the condo watching the rain would also involve staring into the windows of the condo across the way, a definite social dissuader.)
Here, I can't get away from the windows and so I can always watch the rain mist or pour or or pelt or dribble down against ferns and blackberry vines on the basalt cliffs. I know there are those, my son Jeff among them, who would consider that a downside. But it cheers and soothes me to watch the rain fall. I'm not particularly hoping for more snow this year, but, should it come, it too will be beautiful and magical.
Jeff, how could you possibly want to trade the peaceful gray and damp of Oregon for the alligators, swamps, humidity, hurricanes, and general craziness and corruption of Florida?
Here, I can't get away from the windows and so I can always watch the rain mist or pour or or pelt or dribble down against ferns and blackberry vines on the basalt cliffs. I know there are those, my son Jeff among them, who would consider that a downside. But it cheers and soothes me to watch the rain fall. I'm not particularly hoping for more snow this year, but, should it come, it too will be beautiful and magical.
Jeff, how could you possibly want to trade the peaceful gray and damp of Oregon for the alligators, swamps, humidity, hurricanes, and general craziness and corruption of Florida?
Sunday, March 2, 2014
in-house eats
Here's last week's specials at the restaurant downstairs. I may have to use my free dinner coupon soon. I'd go today, but it's Sunday, and there's no dinner serving. (Sorry about the dead space, I don't know how else to move it past all that stuff on the right side of the page.)
| DAILY SPECIALS | |||||||
| LUNCH | DINNER | ||||||
| Monday, February 24, 2014 | |||||||
| Greek Hummus Cucumber Wrap w. | Small $8.10 | Regular $10.90 | · | Pesto Sausage and Ricotta Lasagna with Sundried Tomato Cream Sauce & Broccoli | Small $10.20 | Regular $13.80 | |
| Tuesday, February 25, 2014 | |||||||
| Salmon Cake w. Tartar Sauce and Green Salad | Small $8.10 | Regular $10.90 | · | Small $10.20 | Regular $13.80 | ||
| Wednesday, February 26, 2014 | |||||||
| Beef Quesadilla w. Roasted Salsa & Sour Cream | Small $8.10 | Regular $10.90 | · | Grilled Pork Chop w. Dried Fruit Compote, Potato Pancake & Carrots | Small $10.20 | Regular $13.80 | |
| Thursday, February 27, 2014 | |||||||
| Banana Bread French Toast w. Candied Pecans & Bacon | Small $8.10 | Regular $10.90 | · | Turkey Tetrazzini with Egg Noodles & Peas | Small $10.20 | Regular $13.80 | |
| Friday, February 28, 2014 | |||||||
| Shrimp Kaiser Roll w. Herb Aioli, Avocado & Chips | Small $8.10 | Regular $10.90 | · | Braised Pork Shank w. Mushroom Sauce, Sauteed Green Beans & Potato Cake | Small $10.20 | Regular $13.80 | |
| Saturday, March 01, 2014 | |||||||
| Croque Monsieur- Hot Ham & Swiss | Small $8.10 | Regular $10.90 | · | Fennel Grilled Chicken Breast w. Apricot Chutney, Asparagus & Toasted Almond Rice | Small $10.20 | Regular $13.80 | |
| Sunday, March 02, 2014 | |||||||
| Sunday Brunch 10:00-2:00 | |||||||
| Ask your waiter about our fresh seafood special for lunch (Small $10.30, Regular $13.60) and dinner (Small $12.60, Regular $16.70). Also be sure to check channel 981 for information about our daily specials. | |||||||
| Lunch: Monday - Saturday 11:30 - 2:00. Sunday Brunch 10:00 - 2:00 | |||||||
| Dinner: Monday - Saturday 4:30 - 7:30. Sunday Closed | |||||||
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Big Brother
My life is getting a great deal more organization imposed on it than I am used to. Probably a good thing, but somewhat -- noteworthy.
Item: Monday, the new member services lady, Sandy, will come to my apartment and give me an hour-long presentation on what new members need to know. She called me on my in-house phone and left a message. We played phone tag for a while, finally set up the appointment for Monday. An hour! I suspect I will come away with a pile of paper to process and/or sign and/or agree to. I'll let you know after the meeting.
Item: next Wednesday I will meet with someone from the Wellness Center (gym, swimming pool, massage and acupuncture available, sauna) to set up a program -- a Program -- to improve my physical condition. Which is a good thing, of course: as my friend Joyce says, I need to do what I can to keep what I have. But the Wellness Center lady called me to ask whether I wanted to. Up until now, my neglected gym memberships just sat and sucked sustenance out of my bank account until I admitted defeat and canceled them. Here, I don't pay extra, but they actively seek me out to encourage participation.
Item: a week from Tuesday, I will give a short presentation on this very blog to the Terwilliger Users Group. (What does one say about a blog? "I write because I like to, people read because they enjoy what I write (or for whatever reason), any questions?") This came about because I asked to have my blog listed on the internal web page with the two (2!) other people's blogs. One of the listed blogs is titled Knit a Condom Amulet, by the way. Interesting, diverse community here. But anyway, so I asked to have this blog added to the list, and they invited me to come to the users group.
Item: camel bells once a month so I don't miss the floor meeting. Can't really complain about that one, but still.
I suppose "Big Brother" is an unfair title for this entry. But I'm used to going days at a time without anyone interrupting my solitude. That's not going to happen here. Which is, I suppose, part of the reason I moved here. But It's Not What I'm Used To, she whined.
Item: Monday, the new member services lady, Sandy, will come to my apartment and give me an hour-long presentation on what new members need to know. She called me on my in-house phone and left a message. We played phone tag for a while, finally set up the appointment for Monday. An hour! I suspect I will come away with a pile of paper to process and/or sign and/or agree to. I'll let you know after the meeting.
Item: next Wednesday I will meet with someone from the Wellness Center (gym, swimming pool, massage and acupuncture available, sauna) to set up a program -- a Program -- to improve my physical condition. Which is a good thing, of course: as my friend Joyce says, I need to do what I can to keep what I have. But the Wellness Center lady called me to ask whether I wanted to. Up until now, my neglected gym memberships just sat and sucked sustenance out of my bank account until I admitted defeat and canceled them. Here, I don't pay extra, but they actively seek me out to encourage participation.
Item: a week from Tuesday, I will give a short presentation on this very blog to the Terwilliger Users Group. (What does one say about a blog? "I write because I like to, people read because they enjoy what I write (or for whatever reason), any questions?") This came about because I asked to have my blog listed on the internal web page with the two (2!) other people's blogs. One of the listed blogs is titled Knit a Condom Amulet, by the way. Interesting, diverse community here. But anyway, so I asked to have this blog added to the list, and they invited me to come to the users group.
Item: camel bells once a month so I don't miss the floor meeting. Can't really complain about that one, but still.
I suppose "Big Brother" is an unfair title for this entry. But I'm used to going days at a time without anyone interrupting my solitude. That's not going to happen here. Which is, I suppose, part of the reason I moved here. But It's Not What I'm Used To, she whined.
Living without habits
It's much better now than it was at first, but living without habits is exhausting! Yesterday morning, I forgot to take my pills. I thought I had set up a system, vastly superior to what I did in the condo. I bought this seven-day two-tier pill box, places to put morning and evening pills for each day of the week, morning pills in the yellow side, evening pills in the blue side, what could go wrong?
Lack of habits. I forgot to look for the pill box, which was in plain sight.
I know, not a really big deal, people forget things all the time, especially people in a residential community whose youngest member is 62. But dang! It is such a good system. And its only shortcoming is that I have to consciously remember to use it.
It's like typing this sentence. I don't think about what my fingers are doing, I just generate prose, and my hands and fingers know how to turn the prose concepts into letters and words and punctuation without my having to figure out how to get each bit from my head to the keyboard.
I'm not an organized person in the first place, I often make it up as I go along. But I am appreciating how much having set habits eases things. If I were an organized person, I suppose I would set out to define and acquire the missing habits, practicing, scheduling, checking things off on lists, going to bed justified in the secure knowledge that my life is under control. The way disorganized people form habits is by bumping into things until either calluses form or bruises make the bumping so uncomfortable that it is actively avoided.
Ah well, as I said, it's better now than it was two weeks ago.
Dang! Two weeks! I've been here two weeks. And I have yet to gather the courage to get my free dinner in the restaurant. I'll have to pick up a menu and see what's cooking.
Lack of habits. I forgot to look for the pill box, which was in plain sight.
I know, not a really big deal, people forget things all the time, especially people in a residential community whose youngest member is 62. But dang! It is such a good system. And its only shortcoming is that I have to consciously remember to use it.
It's like typing this sentence. I don't think about what my fingers are doing, I just generate prose, and my hands and fingers know how to turn the prose concepts into letters and words and punctuation without my having to figure out how to get each bit from my head to the keyboard.
I'm not an organized person in the first place, I often make it up as I go along. But I am appreciating how much having set habits eases things. If I were an organized person, I suppose I would set out to define and acquire the missing habits, practicing, scheduling, checking things off on lists, going to bed justified in the secure knowledge that my life is under control. The way disorganized people form habits is by bumping into things until either calluses form or bruises make the bumping so uncomfortable that it is actively avoided.
Ah well, as I said, it's better now than it was two weeks ago.
Dang! Two weeks! I've been here two weeks. And I have yet to gather the courage to get my free dinner in the restaurant. I'll have to pick up a menu and see what's cooking.
unexpected sounds
So I heard bells. Ka-ling, ka-ling, ka-ling. Not Christmas-y sleigh bells, not church bells, not jingle bells, not wind chimes, resonant, melodious, substantial bells. They sounded too leisurely to be some kind of alarm. I poked my head out the door, and there was the man who teaches the "Inquiring Minds" class striding down the sixth floor hallway waving a set of three or four metal bells ranging in size from coffee-cup-size to pint-size on a leather harness. "Camel bells," he said with a grin. "It's how we announce the monthly floor meeting." He taught in the Middle East before he retired, so they're probably genuine. And they sound very nice. So once a month, I will get to hear camel bells. I wonder whether he might share the pleasure of walking them down the hall.
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