Who grieves, and how

It's almost a week since the shooting, six days. I probably feel worse today than I did a few days ago, because reality is starting to penetrate my defenses. Only a little bit -- I still feel very defended. But I feel tears welling up quite often today, and yesterday too. It's probably because on Friday, after Rocket Boy and the twins got back from their mini Spring Break trip, he and I walked over to King Soopers to see the memorial that people have constructed out of flowers and signs and candles. This photo is from the next day, Saturday, when I walked back there with the twins. You can't see anything, because it's really hard to get this whole thing in a picture (try clicking on it to see it a little larger). It's enormous. They put an enormous chain link fence around King Soopers and its parking lot, and people responded by covering the enormous chain link fence with flowers and signs and other things. It's just huge, and every day people are bringing more and more flowers and other things. 

When I went back with the twins on Saturday I brought a pretty white bird beanie baby, Kuku the cockatiel, and placed him amid a lot of flowers. He looked so nice there. There are other stuffed animals there too. If I go back today or another day, I might bring another stuffed bird. I can't bring flowers because I would want to buy them at King Soopers and I can't do that. I know, I could buy them at Trader Joe's. I'm just too tired to face Trader Joe's, or for that matter, any store. Anyway, lovely bird stuffies seem like a nice thing to contribute to the memorial.

The kids didn't want to go see the memorial, and we didn't stay very long. I just felt that they should see it, make of it what they will. At some point later in life I think they'll be glad they saw it. As we walked across Table Mesa to examine the wall of flowers, Teen A said, "Why are there all these flowers for only ten people?" I resisted the urge to smack him, and just told him to hush. I let the wall speak for itself. They got out of it whatever they got out of it. It's not my place to tell them how to feel. Kind of a balancing act, for a parent.

People are getting upset about minor things, unimportant things. Today, our local newspaper was stuffed full of memorial ads from basically every Boulder business, saying how terribly sorry they are that this happened. Very touching, very sweet. In the midst of all that is a full-page ad from Whole Foods that says, "Your dinner table is about to set new standards. Now open at South Broadway & Table Mesa Drive in Boulder." It's a perfectly acceptable ad -- except that it doesn't mention the shooting, even though the Whole Foods it refers to is on the other side of the same shopping center. If you were in the mood to get mad about everything -- as many people are right now -- you could interpret it as implying, "Now that your usual grocery store has been closed due to a mass murder, come on over to our store."  Of course, as one person on my neighborhood listserv pointed out, they've been running this ad for weeks.

I defended Whole Foods (where I never shop, but still). But then I thought -- who am I to tell my neighbors not to feel bad about this? A couple of other people have also tried to calm the others down. But in the end, we all grieve in our own way.

Earlier this week, many people were terribly upset about a political cartoon that appeared in the newspaper. It showed a woman about to enter a grocery store. On the store window are two signs. One says, "Masks required." The other says, "Bulletproof vests recommended." The woman looks aghast, and I thought it was a pretty good comment on what we've come to. Not so my neighbors, many of whom were shocked and offended. Eventually other people chimed in who felt the way I did, but there were a lot who were so very angry.

Again, who am I to tell them to chill? If the cartoon upset them, it is their right to feel upset. I tried to explain why it didn't make me upset, but I didn't push. We all have our own feelings about this, and humor is so very tricky, especially in a crisis.

I defended the paper in part because it is so near its end -- being starved to death by that horrible hedge fund that destroys newspapers -- and what a loss it would have been if we didn't have a paper to publish all the memorial ads in.

Rocket Boy left today, to drive back to Missouri. He texted a little while ago -- he's an hour from the Kansas border. He got a late start this morning because he was busy CLEANING. He cleaned the house from top to bottom the last two days. It probably would have made more sense to do it a week or so ago, spread it out a little, but he got nervous right at the end of the visit because our new stove is being delivered on Monday and he didn't want the delivery people to see a dirty house. I of course am the beneficiary of all this -- who cares what the delivery people think? He even unscrewed the back of the refrigerator and vacuumed it, finding the remnants of a mouse nest in the process. We had a mouse in there a couple years ago -- is that right? Chester is the cat who finally caught it, so that couldn't have happened any earlier than the fall of 2018, when we got him, but it was before Rocket Boy moved to St. Louis in May 2019. Pie is the cat who we think brought it in the house maybe a year before that. Anyway, the nest was still in the refrigerator and now it is gone.

I got a Covid test on Friday, finally, even though I don't think my gastrointestinal upset was Covid. But how could I know that? I still don't feel good, my gut hurts, but I think I would feel worse if I had Covid. Again, how would I know? Lots of people have very few symptoms. Anyway, I'm waiting for the results, hoping they'll be available by Monday. On Tuesday I'm supposed to have a mammogram, and it would be very inconvenient to cancel that at this point. I also still need to pick up my new glasses -- my old ones barely stay on my face -- and have another stupid blood test. My doc's office called on Thursday morning to tell me that my calcium is still high (10.7) and my parathyroid is inconclusive (60) and I have to have more tests. From what I've read on the internet, there is nothing inconclusive about these results, I clearly have a problem with my parathyroid, and I need to have surgery before it leaches all the remaining calcium from my bones. But I will have to go through the motions with them, I guess. Friday I'm scheduled to get my first dose of the vaccine. Please let all that not get messed up by a positive Covid test.

On Wednesday, Rocket Boy and the twins drove south for a little Spring Break trip, to Colorado Springs and Canon City. They visited Garden of the Gods, Bishop's Castle (pictured), the Royal Gorge, and I think some other things as well. They were gone two nights -- stayed in a Best Western in Canon City with an indoor pool and a hot tub and a sauna -- which gave me time to rest and relax and go to bed early and not have to do anything for anybody. (I also got the taxes done, finally.) I was sorry to miss the trip, in theory, but not really all that sorry. I think it was great for Rocket Boy to have some quality time with the kids, and them with him. The first night, they called me from the hotel and I read a chapter of our current bedtime book (we're reading The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder) over the phone. But the second night it got to be too late and I was tired. That night, apparently only Rocket Boy went out to dinner -- the twins were full of snacks and wanted to stay at the hotel. They went swimming in the pool by themselves while he was gone. They are so old! 

So now Rocket Boy is gone. We were talking last night about how many things he was here for over the course of three weeks.

• His first covid vaccine
• The twins' 13th birthday 
• Their various school/evaluation meetings
  
• The 21-inch snowstorm
• The microwave debacle at the rental
• The stove debacle at our house
• My various illnesses, appointments, whatnot
  
• The shooting and its aftermath
  
• The Spring Break trip with the twins 
• Finishing the taxes and sending them to our preparer
  

I feel like I'm forgetting something, but this is certainly enough. I'm so glad he was here for everything. Fingers crossed that there won't be a whole lot of other awful things happening any time soon. 

My fingers aren't really crossed, and even if they were, it wouldn't matter.

I don't know when he's coming back. Possibly in a couple weeks, if he can't figure out how to get his second covid shot in St. Louis. Apparently it's very confusing if you get your first shot in one state and want to get the second shot in a different state. Otherwise, we're thinking about trying to do the trip we planned last year, where the kids and I drive to Missouri to spend a week, after school gets out in May.

Well, the month is ending in a few days, as well as the quarter, so I should revisit the resolutions. 

Quarterly goals (2nd quarter):

• Read a presidential biography. I finished Team of Rivals on March 3rd. This quarter we will be getting to know Andrew Johnson, tied with Trump and Buchanan for Worst President Ever. I'm planning to read two books about him, a simple biography and a book that focuses on his impeachment, the new one by Brenda Wineapple or the one by David Stewart. But we'll see how it goes. One book may feel like enough.
  
• Work on a project. I finished the taxes, so that project is over, except for the back and forth negotiating with our preparer. So what for April-May-June? I have a strong sense that it has to be something easy. What about sewing? I want to learn to use my new sewing machine and work on some little projects. That could be my goal for the 2nd quarter of the year.
  

Monthly goals (April):

• Make contact with a friend and/or family member. In March, we had Rocket Boy's visit and I talked to my sisters. I also did another Zoom call with old friends, plus emailed with a lot of people who contacted me after the shooting. What for April? I think I'll respond to some other friends and stay in touch with family. It's enough, and of course, something else may come up too.
  
• Book group. I need to buy the book (Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu). We meet on the 20th.
  
• Classics Challenge 2021. I'm finally reading the first book on my list. It's fun. I may be ready to post about it next week -- we'll see.
  
• Take the twins somewhere fun. April might be a nice month to visit the Botanic Garden. I'll see.
  
• Donate $$ to some organization. I donated $250 to one of the funds for the victims' families this month. I'll think about April later. Maybe an environmental group.
  
• Do one of the smaller goals on my master list. April will be another health month -- there's just no getting around it. What with the Covid vaccine, dealing with this calcium problem and the possibility of surgery looming, a dermatology appointment mid-month, Teen B's first orthodontia appointment, and continuing to work on my new life with diabetes, I think there just won't be time to work on anything else.
  

And my weekly/daily plans:

• Monday: The new stove will be delivered between 11 and 3 (have to do some cleaning and furniture moving before it comes); otherwise, do school with the kids all day. Take a walk, plan the week's meals; go shopping somewhere, make something easy for dinner.
  
• Tuesday: Get the kids to school. Assuming I have a negative Covid result, go to my mammogram appointment and later call to make a new appointment to pick up my new glasses. Lift weights, take a walk, do something simple for dinner.
  
• Wednesday: Get the kids to school. Pick up my glasses? Go get the stupid blood test, take a walk. Call an electrician and arrange for him to rewire the kitchen at the rental. Cook dinner with Teen B (we're going to make what he tried to make a month ago when the stove died).
  
• Thursday: Get the kids to school. Spend some time writing. Lift weights, go for a walk, fix something easy for dinner, put out the trash and compost in the evening.
  
• Friday: Get the kids to school. Pay bills, go in at 11 and get my first Covid shot, take a walk. Hopefully leftovers for dinner.
  
• Saturday and Sunday: Recover from the shot, do laundry, go for walks (get the kids outside both days), blog, fix easy food or get takeout, think about what comes next.
  

I guess my main goal for this week is to try not to get too depressed. Just keep moving along, pace myself, don't make any grand plans. Leave time to feel sad, about the murder victims, and all my grieving neighbors, and myself, missing Rocket Boy and missing my grocery store. Go to bed at 11 each night, no later. Be good to the kids, who will be stressed about having to go back to school four days a week (we'll see how long that lasts before a positive Covid test shuts things down again). Take care of the cats. Cook, clean, keep the household running. If I can do all that, I'll be batting 1000. Speaking of which, Opening Day for the Rockies is April 1st. I plan to pay more attention to baseball this year. Maybe we'll even get to go to a game.

So sad, so unbelievable

I wasn't going to write about this right away, was going to wait a few days at least, but I think I might as well write now. It isn't going to be anything brilliant. I just want to remember how this feels.

We went to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science on Monday afternoon. I'd gotten us tickets to the Stonehenge exhibition, which I was very interested to see. We arrived a little late for our 1:40 museum entrance time, around 1:50, but they aren't that fussy about letting you in if you're late. The kids always want to eat first, so we went to the cafe and had various sandwiches and snacks. I had a little container of fruit, a carton of milk, and half of Rocket Boy's grilled cheese sandwich. It was there that Rocket Boy realized he had forgotten his wallet, which made me really cross -- I had reminded him to bring his phone, his mask -- it never occurred to me I also had to mention his wallet. But after being cross for a few minutes, I relaxed -- I had my wallet, and we only needed one. And it's not like I don't forget things constantly these days.

Our Stonehenge tickets were for 2:40, so we headed up to the third floor after eating. The kids were seriously underwhelmed by the exhibit -- they'd never heard of Stonehenge before and didn't understand how interesting the new findings are. I didn't prepare them properly. After maybe 15 minutes they were ready to leave, and they did leave by 3:30 or so, off to their favorite Health exhibit. Rocket Boy and I stayed with Stonehenge until nearly 4:30, close to closing time -- annoying the kids no end. On our way out I looked in the gift shop as always, and was amused by a t-shirt with a picture of the moon and the caption, supposedly the moon speaking, "No one ever visits anymore." Another t-shirt read:

You matter!
unless you multiply yourself by the speed of light, then
You energy!

I was going to tell Rocket Boy about the funny t-shirts, but when we got to the car, I happened to check my phone. "Oh, no, there was a shooting at the Table Mesa King Soopers!" We weren't too upset at first, because at first they didn't mention fatalities. I kept checking my phone as we drove to Great Scott's diner for dinner, arguing with the twins who claimed they just wanted to go home. I checked it some more at Great Scott's, but the whole thing still seemed unreal. It might have been while we were driving home that I learned a police officer had been shot. I think it was later, on TV, that I heard six people were dead.

Rocket Boy wanted to drive by King Soopers on our way home. "Is there anything you need at the store?" he asked. "Yes," I admitted, "I was going to shop today if we hadn't gone to the museum. But they aren't going to let anyone in there -- there was a mass shooting." He still thought he could drive by, but as we drove down Table Mesa toward Broadway, we realized the street was lined with police vehicles. We saw people dressed in SWAT team outfits walking down the street. And then, just before we had to turn onto Broadway because everything else was blocked, we saw the endless stream of police vehicles on the other side of Broadway, all with their lights blinking, like some gruesome Christmas display. "Take a picture!" Rocket Boy urged me, but it was too late, and I didn't really want to anyway. The enormity of the thing was hitting me. I did not need a photo. Later, of course, we saw a version of that scene on TV, over and over again.

We went home, went inside, the kids ran for their stupid devices. I grabbed the Roku stick and turned on the TV to Locast, which gives you local channels if you don't have another way of getting them. I found a news broadcast, on Channel 7 I think it was, and sat down to watch.

I watched until that broadcast went off, and then later watched a later one. Rocket Boy eventually joined me. I can't remember when we learned ten people were dead. My phone won't let me do much on it, so I wasn't picking up much from social media, but my neighbors were chattering about the police officer who was killed, the only name released that night. Officer Talley -- he worked in our neighborhood, and several of the neighbors had worked with him on different things. Then his rescue of 12 ducklings from a drainage ditch was brought up. I remember that article! It was from June 2013, just a few weeks after we moved back to Boulder from Ridgecrest.

All through this, I kept thinking, all these people across the nation are learning the silly name of our grocery store. I remember when I first visited Boulder and I asked my friend Jeff what grocery store he patronized. He told me and I laughed. It is such a stupid name, and especially the way they spell "Soopers." Rocket Boy, who has lived here forever, calls it "King's," which was its old name before I think it merged with some other grocery store and became King Soopers. I might have that wrong. Don't quote me. But anyway, in the pictures on TV here we have beautiful -- stunning -- Boulder, with the Flatirons covered with snow, and then the grocery store, with its name on it -- King Soopers. Of course, there are 100 King Soopers stores in Colorado and everyone shops there -- except people who only go to Whole Foods or whatever -- so to us, it's just what it is. 

Imagine having your life end in a King Soopers. Like dying in a Piggly Wiggly, the only grocery store name I know of that is sillier.

Watching all that TV with my old glasses on gave me a splitting headache, so I was glad to take them off and go to sleep. And I slept reasonably well. But this morning I woke up feeling sick to my stomach, which I thought was due to the tragedy. I got up and turned on the TV again, because there was supposed to be a morning press conference. I fed the cats, made tea, all the time feeling worse. Wearing my glasses was painful, but I made it through the press conference. And then suddenly I realized I just wasn't OK. I fled to the bathroom and threw up for a while. Maybe half an hour later I did it again. And then I cancelled my 9:45 appointment to pick up my new glasses and went back to bed for the rest of the day, or most of it.

I still don't know whether I'm sick, or just sick at heart. I'm kind of in a daze about the shooting. Whenever there's a shooting elsewhere, I mostly want to know about the shooter -- what motivated him to do this awful thing. This time I'm not so interested. He's 21, unattractive, described as having a hot temper and as being mentally ill. He was born in Syria. He looked so pathetic and wormy as the officers led him away. He seems like every other shooter. I read that he had once posted on his Facebook page that he needed a girlfriend. Yeah, I'll bet. Maybe it'll turn out to be a Muslim thing, but he strikes me as the kind of guy who would do this because some Boulder girl wouldn't date him. So in that sense it might be a little like the Atlanta shootings -- a week ago. But who knows the real reason. Maybe he's a Trumper and wanted to kill some liberals. It doesn't matter. It's all the same. Men being morons.

This time my focus has been on the victims -- first, because I realized I might know some of them. I'm pretty sure now that's not true. Some of the faces look familiar, so maybe I've seen them around town -- or around King Soopers. But not anyone I've ever spoken to (I think). But then I saw the picture of Teri Leiker. The bagger! She's bagged my groceries a hundred times, easily, probably two or three hundred. I didn't especially like her, but she was a KS institution. I read a memory by someone else who said she always felt comforted when she saw Teri working. I kind of understand that. I tend to choose my checkout line according to the clerk -- I have my favorites and my non-favorites. But I also tended to gravitate toward lines that Teri was doing the bagging in, because she was very dependable, absolutely devoted to her job. Ever since I saw her picture I've been trying to imagine her being shot down by the gunman. My mind won't really go there. It's too horrific. It's one of the things I can't think about yet.

And then the redhead. The kid, the 20-year-old -- Denny. Him I didn't know so well, but I've seen him, checked out under him a few times. A cutie. I've always been a sucker for redheads. Twenty years old! The young manager, Nikki, who was 25, doesn't look familiar to me, but I must have seen her, probably many times. You have to understand, I go to King Soopers constantly. Less often during the pandemic, but still. I think it's fair to estimate that I've been there twice a week, every week (because sometimes I went three or four or five times a week), since we moved back to Boulder almost 8 years ago. In other words, over 800 times.

And now I can't go there, because it's a crime scene. A scene of mass murder. Where some little worm of a person with a gun shot Teri the bagger. I simply cannot take this in.

I've stopped throwing up, but I have a sore throat and am very tired. I ate some saltines and applesauce for dinner, my first food of the day. I think I'm going to try to get a covid test tomorrow -- it'll probably be negative, but I can tell the eyecare place that when I make a new appointment. I'm thinking I'm going to let Rocket Boy take the twins on the little trip we'd planned, without me. I don't think I have it in me to go on a vacation. For one thing, I'm almost out of cat food, one can left. I'll have to go to the King Soopers on Arapahoe to get more, tomorrow. I don't want to go there. Maybe I could go to Safeway instead.

I think even leaving the house is going to be hard. But ten people don't get to leave their houses anymore, because they are dead, so I will be brave. I can always go back to bed when I come home.

Spring break begins

Oh, the joy of Spring Break, and to think that I used to hate it. The kids home for a week with no teachers to help take care of them! What will we do! Those days are long gone.

Now the main thing on my mind is that we'll get more sleep. The boys get about the same amount of sleep (I think roughly 9 hours) during the break because they like to get up early and play stupid games on their stupid devices. But they do that pretty quietly, and the cats are not too annoying in the morning -- possibly because I don't typically feed them the moment I get up, they're used to waiting a little while. This morning I woke up and then went back to sleep, waking finally around 9 am. Of course, that means I was sleep deprived, which is bad, but it's nice to know that I can sleep later if I want. I'll probably aim for an 8 am wake-up time during the rest of the break, with lights out between 11:30 and 12.

It sounds so luxurious.

I've been reading a book called Why We Sleep by Matthew Walker -- in fact, I only have about 10 pages left, but I was reading it last night and it was almost midnight and I WANTED to push through and finish it, but I thought, Matthew Walker has been telling you for 330 pages that you should not do that, so I turned off the light and went to sleep. (Rocket Boy had turned off his light about 10 minutes before.) The book is not perfect -- Matthew Walker does not understand that his point is not stronger if he makes it 50,000 times -- but it has some good information about the importance of sleep. It also explains dreams in a way I hadn't heard before, which I found fascinating. If I have this right, in REM sleep our minds make connections between what happened to us that day and all sorts of other things we have stored in our memories, making it possible for us to think more creatively about it all. In REM sleep, the part of our brains that forces us to think logically is turned off, which is why dreams can be so nutty. Dreams also match our emotions, so if you're upset about something, your dreams are probably going to reflect that. This is probably why I almost always have bad dreams these days.

Like last night. I dreamed that the book group finally started meeting in person again and they came to my house. Unfortunately, I had not prepared for this and had no food to offer them. Nothing. Not the gorgeous spreads I used to lay out, not the simpler bags of takeout food we relied on last summer. Nothing. It was terrible. I tried to whip up an unpleasant potato salad, but it wasn't going to be enough.

I also dreamed that I was still working as a research assistant, but I had ended up with most of the work on the project assigned to me. I was not doing it well -- writing important notes on little pieces of paper and then losing them, that sort of thing. I arranged to interview a woman in the psychology department for the project, but I had to walk across "campus" (sort of the CU campus, but including many other buildings) to meet with her. I told her it would take me about 45 minutes and I'd text her if I was going to be late, since she would have to wait outside the building to let me in due to Covid regulations. Instead, it took hours, since I seemed unable to take straight paths, but instead made my way through dorms and other buildings, some of which turned out to be locked. I couldn't walk through the (Denver?) Botanic Gardens, because I didn't have a reservation, so I detoured through Podesta's, an old florist shop in San Francisco, which was decorated for Christmas. I realized I should text the interview subject, but of course I didn't have her phone number available (it was somewhere in my backpack, on a little piece of paper). Finally, walking through the library (not the CU library, but an enormous library I've visited in dreams before), I saw my old grad school friend Kirstin, who waved happily to me. I was so pleased to see her. We sat down with some other old grad school friends to talk, and I decided to phone my poor interview subject (still waiting outside in the cold for me?) and reschedule.

In fact, I was scheduled to talk to Kirstin and other old friends on a Zoom call this afternoon, which is obviously what the dream was referring to. I told them about the dream and they were amused. It was a bad dream that turned happy at the end -- what does that say about my life right now?  

This was the second call these friends and I had done together, with our old grad advisor -- the first was in January. I feel a little out of place on the calls because I didn't stay in academia, or just on the edges, for five or six years, with the teaching at CU and all. Two of my friends have had serious academic careers, both have published extensively and both were/are chairs of their departments. Let me be clear: I don't mind at all that I didn't have an academic career. It clearly wasn't right for me, and I can enjoy my friends' success without envying it. But I know my advisor isn't impressed with me.

The other friend left academia also, after a brief stint as an assistant professor, and worked in industry, so she and I are both away from that world, it's not just me. But she appears to have navigated the world more successfully than I have in recent years, and is very active in volunteer work. 

What am I active in, right now? Reading, helping the kids (sorry, the teens) with school, attempting (and often failing) to do all the things in my life that I don't want to do, like cooking and cleaning and managing the rental property. It's not that I'm a failure, exactly, it's just that certain decisions I've made -- e.g., having kids -- have led to this situation where I need to spend most of my time struggling to do things I don't want to do and do not do well. It's important work, even though I'm so awful at it -- and it won't last forever -- but it does occupy a lot of my time in the last good years of my life. 

I'm hoping that after the teenagers go back to school four days a week (which is supposed to start March 30th), I will be able to spend more time on things I enjoy -- reading, probably writing, maybe sewing, and maybe I will also want to start working again, part time. Or there's volunteer work, though I feel as though I should be bringing in money. I am not sure, will have to see what feels right. There's also the summer coming up, not sure I want to be working when I've got the twins home all day. What on earth am I going to do with them this summer? It would be nice if I could pack them off to a traditional summer camp for a month, but obviously that's not in the budget, and I don't know if summer camps will be functioning normally this summer. Sounds nice, though, doesn't it? I don't know what I'd do with myself if they were gone that long. 

I'd figure something out.

Well, it is snowing again today, now that we finally have clear roads and sidewalks and driveways after the gigantic storm (which ended up dropping 21 inches of snow). They're predicting 2-4 inches with this storm, which is fine, we can deal with that. There's a chance of snow (or perhaps rain) several other days this week, but probably not a lot of accumulation. We're planning to go to the Denver Museum of Nature and Science tomorrow afternoon -- I got tickets for the Stonehenge exhibit. Then on Wednesday, maybe, we may drive south -- maybe go to the Royal Gorge, in Canon City, maybe Colorado Springs, something like that. We'd have to stay in hotels, which doesn't feel too safe, but we'll try to be careful. 

Rocket Boy will probably start driving back to St. Louis next Sunday.

We've had a busy week. Rocket Boy finally got started installing the new microwave next door, in the rental house. He moved the cabinet above the stove up a few inches and took the microwave out of its box. But he was puzzled to read, in the instructions, that it should NOT be installed above a stove. WTF? He showed me the instructions. And there I read that this was an Over-the-Counter microwave. Not an Over-the-Range microwave. Over-the-Counter. 

I came out to the living room and looked at the box. "Over-the-Counter" Microwave, it said on the top and all four sides of the box. Over-the-Counter.

Somehow I had managed to purchase an Over-the-Counter microwave, even though I intended to buy an Over-the-Range microwave.

I used to be an editor! How could I misread those words, over and over again?

Long story short, we went to Home Depot and bought an Over-the-Range microwave floor model instead. The rather grumpy salesman had to get it down using one of those little carts that can rise up to a very high shelf. Rocket Boy had to move the cabinet again, because this microwave was bigger, but he got the whole thing installed that evening. Of course, because nothing is easy, I'm going to have to hire an electrician to come in and rewire the kitchen, because the outlets are two-prong, not three-prong, so the microwave is running through an adaptor, which isn't safe. La la la. 

The next day (yesterday) we returned the Over-the-Counter microwave to Home Depot, and then went back to the appliance department and ordered a new stove for ourselves (I'd been fussing about what to buy for weeks). We agonized over buying a used stove on craigslist, but finally decided we didn't want to lift and haul any more appliances. The grumpy salesman who helped us with the microwave the day before encouraged us to buy a small cheap stove that's almost identical to our old one. He talked us out of a two-oven stove and a smooth surface cooktop, both of which we had been considering. The new stove won't arrive until the day after Rocket Boy leaves, which is par for the course.

In medical news, I finally saw an optometrist this past week, who took a picture of my eyes so we could see whether I have any diabetes damage. None was visible, and she told me she almost never sees any. She also told me about a dream she'd had the night before, in which her hair stylist moved to Grand Junction and she was so upset because who would do her highlights now? I decided not to tell her that my hair stylist had just died, since we were getting along so well and I didn't want to wreck the mood.

I chose a new pair of glasses while I was there, which will be ready in a week or two. Later in the week I had a "telehealth" call with my regular doctor to discuss the metformin. She's fine with me taking only 3 pills a day, so that is what I'm going to do from now on. And on Friday I went in for my third blood test. I'm REALLY hoping my calcium will be normal this time. If it's not, and/or if my parathyroid isn't normal, I'll have to go see an endocrinologist, who (the doc said) will probably take over my diabetes care as well. 

I'm voting for normal calcium and normal parathyroid, no endocrinologist getting in the act. But we'll see. I realize that my vote does not count for anything here.

I'm enjoying March Madness -- first time in my life I've ever paid any attention to it. I cut out the Men's Bracket from our newspaper and am happily filling out the winners as the games take place. CU won their first-round game, so we'll have a fun second-round game tomorrow. But I'm enjoying all of it (I keep track of it online, haven't actually WATCHED any of it except just a little of the CU game). I'm also cheering on the CU women, who are playing in the WNIT and beat Nebraska in the second round -- ha!

No formal plans for the week ahead, no goals -- just enjoying what's left of Rocket Boy's visit. The week after he leaves I'll go back to my resolutions and all that. I'll be having a mammogram and I'll also get my first covid shot that week, so that's something to look forward to. I know I'll need things to look forward to after he leaves.

March is a good (though snowy) month

I started this post last weekend, like normal, but then there were so many things to do that it didn't get done. Rocket Boy is home for a three-week visit, and so of course that complicates everything, but I started feeling better emotionally as soon as he walked through the front door. His car alarm had been going off at random intervals for a few days (including the night he spent in a hotel in Kansas), and it went off twice his first night home -- at 12:30 and 4:45 am. We had gone to bed at 11 pm and I thought I would have some trouble going back to sleep both times, but I didn't. Normally (this would include the two nights before he got here), if I wake up in the night, I stay awake, because I use the time to worry about things. My mind seems to find this much more important than sleeping. This time, especially after the 4:45 alarm, I tried worrying a little, as an experiment. Nope, my mind wasn't interested. I rolled over and went right back to sleep.

It makes a big difference, having someone to share the worries with.

Of course, after he'd been here a few days I started having sleep problems again, but I think that's due to the metformin. I went up to 4 pills a day this past Wednesday, didn't sleep well either Wednesday or Thursday nights, and Friday night started having pretty amazing stomach problems -- like, wow, that was all inside me? It's so weird that we have these lovely bodies that can be so attractive to each other, but on the inside there's, hmm. I mean, like, wow. Yesterday (Saturday) I decided to go back down to three pills, and I took two in the morning and one at night, and although I had a lot of nausea, I slept better. Today my stomach is kind of thinking about things: shall we settle down or shall we put on another show like Friday and Saturday? There's some suspicious cramping.

At least I don't have anywhere to go, since we're having a blizzard. Our giant storm didn't do too much yesterday, but when we woke up this morning -- hmm, yeah, that's a pretty serious snowstorm all right. The angel with the snowblower came by earlier (you can see his work in the first photo up top), but the walks filled back up again soon after. Rocket Boy shoveled them again and they're full again once more. I shoveled the driveway down to the sidewalk so I could have a look for the paper -- I didn't really think it had been delivered, but you never know, our paperboy (paperman?) is very reliable. I poked around in the snow where it usually is, but no sign of green plastic. 

It's supposed to snow all day and into the night, but then stop. I feel as though we got cheated, because it didn't start until pretty late Saturday. I wanted to spend the whole weekend being snowbound. But one full day is good too. I wish I could have stayed in bed, but there are many chores to do: laundry and cleaning and those darn taxes that won't do themselves. Rocket Boy wanted to get the kids to go out sledding or snowshoeing, but the best we've been able to do so far is to get them out to mess around in the front yard. And they wore their winter coats! For the first time all year, okay, maybe second. They both have shorts on under their long pants, so they can still say they're wearing shorts. Silly boos. Silly teens.

The snow is pretty ridiculous, but decent for snowballs, heavy and wet. Not so great for snowpeople, though, too deep. I was out there taking pictures in my pajama pants, t-shirt, and a sweater. Oh, and slip-on shoes. I don't usually get too cold, lots of internal padding, but the wind was chilly. It felt good to come back in.

Last week was a hard week, even with RB here. Monday we had Kid A's recertification meeting for his IEP. It was a good meeting, very positive, but the bottom line is that he's still reading/writing far below grade level. How do you survive in this world if you can't read and write? So that meeting took me down, as it always does, even though everyone was very cheerful and upbeat.

Tuesday was their birthday, which I usually get ridiculously stressed out about, but it was pretty low-key and pleasant this time. It was a school day, of course, an at-home day, so they worked along on their classes while I worked along on party prep. I hung banners around the living room, blew up balloons and distributed them (I hung a pink one next to Rocket Boy at his desk), went to the grocery store and bought a chocolate caramel cake for Kid B and a dozen cupcakes for Kid A, and wrapped gifts and arranged them in the living room. When school ended (at 3:44 pm), they opened cards and gifts and we had cake and cupcakes. Dinner was leftover pizza -- which reminds me, we still owe both of them a special dinner -- and later Dad fixed berries with cream for those who still had an appetite (not me).

And now they are teenagers. I will, therefore, begin referring to them in this blog as Teen A and Teen B. This will remind me that they have reached a milestone in maturity, since there are few other indications of it.

It blows me away that if we were Jewish -- as opposed to just culturally appropriating Hanukkah every year -- they would now be considered adults. People used to grow up faster. It also blows me away that in five years they will be legal adults in American society. And in three years they'll be able to get a driver's license. Time is going by very quickly, and yet they still seem so young.

Thursday we had an online meeting with the people at CU to discuss the results of Teen B's testing. That was more positive in some ways -- he tested in the "normal" range for many things, whatever "normal" means. But we still have to find a way to cope with the struggles he does have. I'm thinking tutors? I'm feeling overwhelmed.

And then I spent Friday being sick and Saturday feeling a little better but not great. Today I'm feeling mostly good. But there's the time change to deal with. Having the time change on an intensely snowy day is interesting. You can't really tell what time it is by the sun, so the new time on the clocks seems reasonable instead of terribly late. 

I wish it would snow and snow and snow, for several more days. But it's supposed to stop tonight. And I have an eye appointment on Tuesday, so it would be good if we were dug out by then. I'm really tired of these broken glasses! Also, Wednesday night I have to take my car in to get its headlights replaced. And then there's spring break the next week, which I hope is not super snowy. It is going to take forever for all this snow to melt, and it hasn't stopped snowing yet (it's now 2:45 pm, new time, and the snow seems to be coming down even more heavily). So yeah, it would be good if it didn't snow forever. But I still kind of wish it would.

Classics Challenge 2021

So I'm finally ready to start the Back to the Classics Challenge 2021, even though we're already two months into the year. Hey, I can read fast! My theme this year is going to be American Indians, both as authors and as subjects. I wanted to do something more like I did last year, when I focused strongly on Black authors, but I have had some trouble planning the list.

Similar to Black authors, Native American authors' voices have been suppressed throughout U.S. history. But it's more complicated than that. Indigenous people had and still have their own languages and cultures. And of course, for a long time white immigrants were afraid of Indians and were engaged in trying to wipe them out, not publish them. Once white people began to get over their fear, they turned Indians into romantic symbols of a bygone age, ignoring the fact that real live members of many different tribes were living all around them. Over the last 50 years there has been what is sometimes referred to as a Native American Renaissance (something like the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and 30s), but most of the books that have come out of that don't count for the Classics Challenge, which requires that books be at least 50 years old.

My list includes a few books by white people about American Indians. In fact, the list was originally about half white, but I've found more interesting Indian authors as I've gone along. So now about three quarters of my authors are Indigenous, and of course the list may change. Like last year, I am planning to read the books in the order they were written, so the category numbers are all mixed up.

1800s

7. New-to-Me Classic by a Favorite Author: The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper (white), 1826. He's not exactly a favorite, but I was mildly entertained by one of his books last year and I've never read anything by any of these other authors. This is an important early work for its fairly positive portrayal of Native Americans.

 

11. Travel or Adventure Classic: The Life and Adventures of Joaquin Murieta by John Rollin Ridge (Cherokee), 1854. Considered the first novel in English written by a Native American, it's about a Mexican immigrant in California, not a Cherokee.

4. Classic in Translation: Winnetou: The Treasure of Nugget Mountain by Karl May (German), 1893 (trans. 1898). The Winnetou books I-IV made American Indians famous in Germany and elsewhere in Europe. What I'm going to read is apparently the first American translation (of books II and III), substantially altered by the translator.

 

1. 19th Century Classic: Ogimawkwe Mitigwaki (Queen of the Woods) by Simon Pokagon (Pokagon band of Potawatomi), 1899. Considered the second novel in English written by a Native American.

1900s

3. Classic by a Woman Author: Cogewea, the Half-Blood by Mourning Dove (Okanogan, Colville), written 1912, published 1927. A "western romance," possibly the second novel in English by a Native American woman.  

10. Humorous or Satirical Classic: The Illiterate Digest by Will Rogers (Cherokee), 1924. Not a novel, but an early collection of writings by well-known humorist (actor, journalist) Rogers. 

12. Classic Play: The Cherokee Night by Lynn Riggs (Cherokee), 1932. By the playwright who also wrote Green Grow the Lilacs, which became Rodgers & Hammerstein's Oklahoma!
 

6. Classic by a New-to-Me Author: Brothers Three by John Milton Oskison (Cherokee), 1935. Almost every writer on this list is new to me, so it was just a matter of deciding which book to use for this category. The third novel by Stanford University's first Native American graduate. (I had to buy it from an antiquarian book dealer, so am still waiting for it to show up.)

8. Classic about an Animal or with an Animal in the Title: The Man Who Killed the Deer by Frank Waters (Cheyenne), 1942. Part Cheyenne on his father's side, Waters was born in Colorado and wrote about Pueblo Indians such as the Hopi, not his own people.

2. 20th Century Classic: Waterlily by Ella Cara Deloria (Yankton Dakota), 1947 but published posthumously in 1988. Deloria was not only a fiction writer, she was -- like Zora Neale Hurston from my list last year -- an anthropologist who worked with Franz Boas.

9. Children's Classic: Rifles for Watie by Harold Keith (white), 1957. I already own this (bought it last year because it's about the Civil War) but there are other possibilities, such as Runner in the Sun by D'Arcy McNickle (Salish Kootenai). Also, Mari Sandoz (white) wrote a couple of children's novels about Indians. So this choice may change.

5. Classic by a BIPOC author: House Made of Dawn by N. Scott Momaday (Kiowa), 1968. Won the Pulitzer Prize and launched the Native American Renaissance.

I only have two female authors on my list so far, which makes me unhappy. But I'm glad I realized that I could include the book by Ella Cara Deloria, which was published after her death and became an instant classic.

Last year's list seemed prophetic, with the explosion of Black Lives Matter demonstrations in the summer. I don't expect this year's list to be similarly apropos. It's just that after immersing myself in early Black American literature I found myself wanting to do the same with another "historically marginalized" (persecuted, decimated) group. Basically, I wondered what came before Louise Erdrich, whose books I enjoy. Her first novel, Love Medicine, was published in 1984, 16 years after N. Scott Momaday's House Made of Dawn. So maybe I'm asking what came before Momaday. I'm very interested to read the books on this list. I hope I learn a lot.