Reading post: July

It's the last day of July, so time for a reading post. The books I drew from my "Briefly Noted" envelopes this month were Underground in Berlin, a "matter-of-fact" memoir by a Jewish woman who survived WWII in Berlin, and Butterflies in November, a novel about Iceland described as "picaresque."

• Underground in Berlin: A Young Woman's Extraordinary Tale of Survival in the Heart of Nazi Germany by Marie Jalowicz Simon, translated from the German by Anthea Bell (2014). This memoir is actually a transcription of tapes made by the author's son in the last year of his mother's life. Marie had always refused to tell her story, but finally agreed to do it. It's quite fascinating. Unlike Anne Frank, Marie Jalowicz hid in plain sight in Berlin, going from one apartment to another, since she could pass as Aryan (she stopped wearing a yellow star). She often has to have sex in order to survive, and I kept thinking, Anne Frank couldn't have done that, she was too young. Finally the war ends and Marie is able to resume her life, but she and her country will never be the same. Really an interesting book, very much worth reading (I convinced Rocket Boy to read it too). Also, it must have been one of the last books translated by the amazing Anthea Bell (who also translated W. G. Sebald).
  
  
• Butterflies in November by Auður Ava Olafsdottir, translated from the Icelandic by Brian FitzGibbon (2004/2013). I like books about Iceland, which seems like such an interesting country, but this wasn't the greatest example. The brief New Yorker review said the main character's "quirkiness is perhaps too self-consciously achieved." That's one way of putting it. The novel begins with the nameless main character being dumped by the husband she was cheating on, because the woman he was cheating on her with is about to have his baby. The narrator wins the lottery twice and goes off on a journey with her best friend's small son, because the friend, who seems to be an alcoholic, is in the hospital due to complications with her next pregnancy. The most interesting part of the story is the Icelandic recipes (collected in the back of the book). Sour whale, anyone?

Best books of the 21st century so far

In July I planned to read some more books off the New York Times list by authors with last names beginning with K and L. There were at least five books in that category that interested me, and I read three of them.

When We Cease to Understand the World by Benjamin Labatut, translated from the Spanish by Adrian Nathan West (2021). I really liked this book; it's one of my favorites so far from that NY Times list. It's beautifully written -- maybe beautifully translated? I googled the translator, because this has got to be partly his doing. Anyway, this is a "nonfiction novel" about the men responsible for quantum theory and other important scientific and mathematical discoveries of the 20th century: Einstein, Schrodinger, Heisenberg, and some I was less familiar with, like Schwarzschild, Grothendieck, and Mochizuki. Labatut is interested in how their discoveries drove them insane (in some cases) and also caused enormous damage to the world (the atomic bomb, poison gas). Probably real scientists and mathematicians wouldn't like it, because it romanticizes them. But I was mostly enthralled.

Heavy: An American Memoir by Kiese Laymon (2018). I wanted to read this memoir because I thought it was about being fat. And it is, partly. Kiese Laymon weighed over 200 pounds at age 12 and over 300 in college. And then he lost over 150 pounds. And then he gained it all back while also succumbing to a gambling addiction. But really this is mostly about growing up Black and poor in Mississippi and how those experiences might lead one to overeat, if one were wired that way, or do other self-destructive things. It's a devastating book. Laymon is trying so hard to be honest, and he shows, over and over, how incredibly hard that is. He makes it pretty clear that he's writing to and for Black Americans, not white people, but obviously lots of white people will read the book, and it has something to say to us too. It's a very difficult book to read, but I think it will be hard to forget.

The Vegetarian by Han Kang, translated from the Korean by Deborah Smith (2007/2016). An article I read about this book said that Deborah Smith began translating it by looking every word up in a Korean-English dictionary. She had been studying Korean for only 3 years! So you really have to wonder... But other articles say she did well, and Han, the author, has voluntarily continued working with her. OK, so, fine. It's a strange book. I kind of liked it, kind of didn't. It's about a young woman who stops eating meat, or any animal products, because of a frightening dream she has. Gradually, over the course of the 3-part novel (I liked the 2nd part best), she wants to become a plant, or a tree, and stops eating altogether, trying to get sustenance only from water and sunlight. Childhood abuse is an issue, as is Korea's patriarchal culture. And... I don't know what to make of it. But Han won the Nobel Prize last year, so her work must be good, right? I might try to read more of it. Maybe.

So I've now read 47 of the books on the list of the top 100. Still aiming for at least 50 by the end of the year, and it looks like it will be more than that.

Other reading

Recently I ran across a list of someone's favorite books about witches. Lolly Willowes: or The Loving Huntsman by Sylvia Ashton Warner sounded interesting, so I requested it from Prospector and read it. A lot of fun! But I'm not sure it's really about being a witch. It's about how women in England at that time (1926) had very little freedom, and how selling your soul to the Devil might be a better option. Still a good read.

 

I also read a fictional version of the story of FDR and his true love, Lucy Mercer, the one who almost broke up his marriage. It was called simply Lucy: A Novel by Ellen Feldman (2004). I didn't like it much, although it provided more interesting information about FDR and his world. It's hard for me to see FDR as anything other than a womanizer who broke his wife's heart, and this book did not change my mind. 

 

Finally, at the end of the month I read two nonfiction books. First, I read a book my sister Barbara gave me for my birthday: The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man's Love Affair with Nature by J. Drew Lanham. The title made me think it was an older book, because how could a modern writer refer to himself as a "colored" man? But it was published in 2016. Lanham explains that he is mostly Black, somewhat multiracial, but also colored by the red clay soil, the white cotton, the "deepest blue of despair and darkness." The book is a memoir about growing up in South Carolina and somehow becoming an ornithologist; it's the story of his family and a bit of his genealogy. Very interesting and thought-provoking. He comes across as such a nice man. I'd like to meet him.

 

Then I read a book I found at the library called I Heard There Was a Secret Chord: Music as Medicine by Daniel J. Levitin. It took me a while to get through this -- it was rather dense -- but so interesting, at least some of the time. I learned a lot about music and the brain, and something about how music is used to treat certain conditions. Most of it I'll probably immediately forget, but I'm basically glad I read it. 

 

The book group didn't meet in July -- we meet next week, finally -- and I read our next book -- Dungeon Crawler Carl -- at the very end of June, so nothing to worry about there. 

Next month

In August I will try to read two more books from my "Briefly Noted" envelopes and a few more from the NY Times list, focusing on books whose authors' last names begin with "M." There are three or four that interest me, so I'll see what I can find. This week I finally got off the hold list for Original Sin: President Biden's Decline, Its Cover-up, and His Disastrous Choice to Run Again -- so I'm going to read that first thing. Then there will be the next book group book, and whatever else I find that strikes my interest.

Summer is ending!

OK, don't mean to freak out too early, but summer, seriously, is almost over. How I miss the days of my own youth, when school started right after Labor Day. The twins have two full weeks left, that's all. Picture Day is August 12th and the first day of classes is August 14th. The LAST first day of classes. They will be seniors! This is so freaking me out. Anyway, we started thinking, OMG, we haven't taken a trip, and so I planned a quick trip around the state of Colorado, including various college tours, to be taken next week or the week after. But the problem is, we really wanted to go to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, and it's been closed due to a fire (part of it is reopening next week, but it's probably still really smoky). So I kind of lost interest in the whole thing. And the kids didn't seem interested at all. 

In the meantime, I thought we should get busy and start taking college tours, so I signed us up for a free guided tour of Colorado State University on Thursday. Teen A didn't want to go, since he's not planning to go to college, and Teen B didn't want to go either, since he is planning to go to college but he's nervous about it, but in the end I convinced both of them to come along. 

We drove to Fort Collins by a scenic back route, getting there in about an hour and 20 minutes (Teen A drove the rebuilt Prius), and first went to Lucile's for a quick lunch before our 2 pm tour. We sat outside under an umbrella -- it was very hot -- and although the service was quick, it wasn't the best experience. When the waitress came to take our drink orders, Rocket Boy insisted on ordering food too, which upset Teen B because he hadn't looked at the food menu yet. (He always takes a long time to decide, which tends to annoy his father.) I ordered for him, eggs benedict, and he ate some of it, but he was angry. I had the rice pudding porridge with raspberry sauce, so delicious, but I could only eat half, and I didn't think we should take the rest to go, because it would just sit in a hot car all afternoon. Teen A only ate about 2/3 of his gigantic breakfast burrito, but that didn't seem like a good thing to leave in the car either, and Teen B didn't finish his food, ditto. So all that annoyed Rocket Boy, who hates to waste food.

When we got back to the car, we had a parking ticket -- but that was actually funny, and lightened the mood a little. The ticket was for something called "Obedience to Angle" and it was just a warning, no charge. Apparently Teen A, who had backed into the parking place, hadn't gotten the angle exactly right. It seemed like a VERY fussy ticket, like maybe the parking enforcement officer was in a bad mood because of the heat. We made jokes about it the rest of the day.

Teen A drove us to campus, only a couple blocks away, and we found a parking place right in front of the Administration building. We were half an hour early, so we went and signed in, and waited. There were exhibits to look at, and of course, people watching. Small group after small group filed in, each consisting of one or two slightly worried-looking adults and one grumpy teenager. I think there were about 100 people total -- I had been afraid we would be the only ones. It still blows my mind how many places people were from: Louisiana, Minnesota, North Dakota, Illinois, California. Maybe half were from Colorado. I didn't think anyone except Colorado residents went to CSU -- well, maybe a few people from Wyoming, New Mexico, places like that -- but apparently people come there from all over. 

We watched some videos and listened to a presentation, and then they broke us up into four groups to tour the campus with current students as our guides. They warned us that it would be a 2.5 mile walk, with two flights of stairs to climb, but in fact it was 1.7 miles (I used my app) and only one flight of stairs (we did go down the stairs later, so maybe they were counting that). 

I was blown away by the CSU campus -- so huge, so lovely! Acres of green grass, everything so far apart from everything else, bike racks everywhere because everyone gets around by bike. An enormous recreation center, enormous student union. I kept thinking -- where is the money coming from to pay for all this! CSU is not that expensive, only $13,000/year for in-state. It was all so new looking, or at least so well maintained. I immediately wanted to sign myself up as a student. "Don't you want to go here?" I kept asking Teen A and Teen B. Teen B has never really learned how to ride a bicycle, after his dreadful accident when he was seven, so the idea of a bicycling campus doesn't appeal to him. And of course, Teen A doesn't want to go to college, he wants to get an electrician apprenticeship. So I was all on my own, rhapsodizing about the wonders of CSU. But it was fine.

The CSU mascot is a ram, called Cam the Ram, and there were ram statues all over campus. But of course a ram is just a male sheep, so whenever I saw one I said (to Teen B), "Sheep." "Ram," he would correct me, crossly.

We got into another tussle on the way home -- I had promised Teen B Starbucks, but since Rocket Boy hates Starbucks, he tried to get us to go to a restaurant called Avogadro's Number instead. We drove by it, on the wrong side of the street, and I just knew it wasn't going to make Teen B happy. So I got upset. We ended up at a Starbucks in the south part of town, almost to Loveland, and everyone calmed down there. Then we drove home, arriving about 6 pm.

The day continued, however. Rocket Boy went to a movie at the library, and Teen B, to everyone's surprise, left without telling anyone and went to a concert at Fiddler's Green Amphitheater, south of Denver. With a girl, who shall remain nameless since he won't tell us who she was. The concert was part of the AJR "Somewhere in the Sky" tour. I had never heard of AJR, at least I don't think I had, although I am familiar with at least one of their songs, "Bang." We didn't know Teen B was at this tour until I texted him around 9 pm asking if he wanted a ride home and he said sure, and that he was at Fiddler's Green. I told him he could come home the same way he got there, and he arrived around 12:45 am.

The joy of teenagers.

Teen A wants to go to a concert in Denver in October, someone I've REALLY never heard of called Lil Tecca. He's a rapper. I said I'd use his Social Security money to buy him a ticket. 

I went to my first real concert when I was a senior. I saw David Bowie at the Oakland Coliseum with my boyfriend, my little sister, and her boyfriend. So, you know, I know it's time for the kids to be doing this. I have the usual worries about dangers: drugs, theft, things that might go wrong. You have to let them go anyway. They are ALMOST 18, and once that milestone is reached, I can't tell them not to do things anymore. I can refuse to pay, but then they'll get access to their Social Security money, so they can pay for everything themselves.

*** 

We didn't do much else this week. I saw the oral surgeon for a follow-up on Monday and she said I was healing perfectly and she would see me in November. So now I have to get used to this hole in my mouth. The tooth right above the hole, with the new crown, has gotten very cold-sensitive and probably needs a root canal, so that whole half of my mouth is basically driving me crazy. I chew on the other side, brush my teeth VERY carefully, and try not to think about it.

Everyone stopped taking painkillers this week, even me, and we all went back to using straws, occasionally.

Yesterday Rocket Boy and I decided to take a trip to the cabin, our first all year. We tried to get the twins to come too, but I guess one family trip per week is their limit. So we went alone. The whole way there and the whole way back, Rocket Boy kept talking about the twins, how he missed the fun he used to have with them when they were little, how he wished they'd come with us, how he wished they wouldn't play video games all the time.

At some point, we'll have to get used to the twins living their lives and us just being together, but I think it's going to take some time.

It was a beautiful day to be in the mountains. We stopped at the Cutthroat Cafe in Bailey for our usual lunch, and then continued on to South Park. It turned out that we were in Fairplay for Burro Days, but we just drove on through, didn't stop to find out what would be going on, and headed to Alma. There we stopped at Al-Mart and I bought some ginger beer and ginger ale, because I was feeling nauseated. And then on to the cabin.

The aspen were so leafy and full that you honestly could not see any sign of the cabin. I always like that.

There were lots of wildflowers on the stony ground. I thought, as I always do, how we really need to get a Colorado wildflower book to keep at the cabin. Instead, I took pictures of several flowers and planned to look them up when I got home. But I don't even have a Colorado wildflower book at home, just general wildflower books. Need to address this! I mean, the Internet helps, but books are good too.

We saw: Mountain Harebells (in the photo), Indian Paintbrush, something that might have been a Northern Gentian or some other variety of Gentian, the usual Alpine Daisies, and various yellow flowers including Yellow Stonecrop. Also, unfortunately, I think I saw some Leafy Spurge, which is an invasive noxious weed. If we go back when it's still visible, I should try digging it up. Stupid Leafy Spurge, even at the cabin.

All the remnants of the huge old beaver dam had vanished, but Rocket Boy showed me the entrance to the new dam, and we heard a beaver splash into the water. We also spotted two other beaver dams along the river, so things look healthy in that respect. I always feel as though I should take care of our land up there, but I don't know what that would involve, so mostly we do nothing. Let the beavers take care of it themselves. 

What we didn't see were birds! I used my Merlin app and after a long time it decided it heard a Red-winged Blackbird down by the beaver ponds, but I didn't see one. "Why are there no birds?" I asked Rocket Boy, who of course didn't know. There are not usually many birds, but it seemed bizarrely quiet. Finally RB spotted what he referred to as a Blue Jay, but it was in fact a Steller's Jay, all by itself. We watched it for a quite a while.

We left while it was still daylight, saw a moose in a swampy area near Kenosha Pass, and got home about 8:30 pm. Then we scooped up the twins and went to BJ's for dinner, because they stay open late. The twins seemed perfectly happy to have missed the trip. Oh well. We might go back in a few weeks, probably without them again.

This coming week it is supposed to start out very hot (it is currently 97 degrees and we are huddling in the house) and then get thunderstormy, around about Wednesday. On Tuesday morning we are going to take a tour of CU, at Teen B's request (Teen A doesn't want to come, which is fine). I also want to schedule us for a tour of Metro State, in Denver, possibly on Friday afternoon. I'll see. My plan to tour all the Colorado colleges is being scrapped, but I think that's fine. I think Teen B will stay close to home for college, wherever he goes.

Teen A has a haircut scheduled for Friday, which is also the first day of August. We have one week after that to schedule a last-minute vacation trip somewhere. Will we do it? Stay tuned.

Wisdom teeth week

So, all eight wisdom teeth are gone! On Monday morning we got up fairly early, for us, anyway, and went off to the oral surgeon in Westminster. Teen A's appointment was at 9:20, so he and Rocket Boy left at about 8:45, and Teen B's appointment was at 10, so he and I left home at 9:15. We arrived at 9:45, just in time to say hi and bye to Rocket Boy, because they'd finished with Teen A and were pushing him out the back door. They took Teen B in right away, early, and he was done by about 10:20 I think it was -- I didn't have time to even open the book I'd brought with me. I was typing a message to my sisters when they came out and said, "He's done -- please pull your car around to the back door." So I sent a quick "oops" message and ran out to my car. They brought Teen B out in a wheelchair -- he was barely awake, very dopey -- and somehow got him into the car, where he dozed all the way home. 

Once we got home, Rocket Boy came out to help get Teen B out of the car and almost injured his own back trying to drag him into the house. Teen B only weighs about 115, something crazy like that (at 5'7"), but 115 pounds of noncooperativeness can be very heavy. 

For several hours they were pretty dopey, but then they woke up, and we've been in the boring recovery stage ever since. I have made jello twice (orange, strawberry) and pudding four times (vanilla, banana cream, vanilla, banana cream). We have gone through many many cans and packets of soup (Rocket Boy also made homemade soup, but it wasn't well received). Not surprisingly, Teen A has been very compliant with the oral surgeon's instructions and Teen B hasn't. They were supposed to start rinsing with a special mouthwash the day after surgery, and Teen A got right on it. On the fifth day they were supposed to start irrigating the wounds and Teen A got right on that too. Teen B has used the mouthwash once, that I know of, two days after surgery, and has done no irrigating, because he thought it was weird. Hopefully this will not matter.

They have been taking their painkillers regularly, but I think we are almost done with that. Both of them come to me to dole out the pills, even though the pill bottles are all sitting on the kitchen counter and they could easily take them themselves. Nobody's been hoarding their pills or taking them weirdly, anything like that. My good boys. 

I'm still taking ibuprofen once a day, which is bad after almost two weeks. I see the oral surgeon tomorrow afternoon for a follow-up, so I'll ask her why I'm still in pain. It's much better, but it's not gone.

Despite having two bleeding patients at home, on Monday evening I joined our friends Dave and Kathy for a free concert in Martin Park, put on by the Boulder Concert Band. Rocket Boy was making his unpopular soup at the time, but he joined us for the last song. It was so fun! The theme of the concert was "California Dreamin'" and they played medleys by the Beach Boys, the Association, and the Eagles, along with various patriotic songs, a Sousa march, and some Herb Alpert selections by the guy in the photo. You can't see here, but there was actually a huge turnout. Martin Park neighbors know a good thing when they hear it!

Other than recovering from surgery (and attending the concert), we didn't do much this week. There was a protest scheduled for Thursday, and we were planning to attend, but in the end we didn't, and I felt bad about that. I've been getting so depressed about political stuff recently, and it's becoming very hard to do anything about it.

However, I did do two political things this week, and I'm happy about them both.

1. I increased our monthly donation to PBS by $5, so we are now giving them $10/month.
2. I signed up to give NPR $8/month. We used to give to CPR, Colorado Public Radio, but somehow our membership had lapsed, so this was a way of starting up again. I gave to NPR rather than CPR, in the hopes that the money would help some of those rural stations that are in danger of going off the air, but I'm not sure it will do that. We may rejoin CPR too, eventually. 

We need to watch our pennies these days, so these aren't huge donations. But every little bit counts, and if more people would do this, it would help even more. So I felt good about that.

Speaking of money, the Prius v is home! We picked it up yesterday. It still needs a few little cosmetic things, bits of trim and whatnot, but it's completely drivable, and our mechanic needed the space, so we went and got it (and paid him). The cost was just under $7000, so since our insurance company gave us $12,000, we made $5000 on the deal -- which we will promptly turn over to said insurance company, since our rates are now $3637.80 every six months. Youch! At least they didn't cancel us.

The car drives and looks as good as new, so we are very happy about that. We took the opportunity to remove the sticker from the back windshield, though. Previously the little figure was holding up two middle fingers -- I removed those (see photo) and then Rocket Boy got busy and scrubbed the whole thing off. We haven't actually said to Teen A, "No more stupid stickers," but if another one shows up, it will be removed too. 

Today we ventured out for an activity -- Rocket Boy, Teen B, and I went to Summer Heritage Morning at Walker Ranch Homestead, about 10 miles west of Boulder. They do this every summer and I've thought about going ever since I moved here in 1997. But it's always in late July, when it's really hot, and even though it's not as hot in the mountains (the ranch is at 7600 feet), it's still hot (and you're closer to the sun). So I've thought about going and then I've stayed home, sweating. This year, however, Rocket Boy said he'd like to go, so I said sure, let's do it. And I even managed to convince Teen B to come too, although he had second thoughts about five minutes into the trip.

It's so pretty in the mountains right now. So many wildflowers, so green. At the ranch, they had people dressed up in old-timey costumes, demonstrating things like churning butter, making the holes in buttons, cooking beans over a hot cookstove, blacksmithing (is that a word?), and playing old-fashioned games. You could go in some of the old buildings (this is Rocket Boy in a root cellar). 

Lots of kids were there, bringing back memories of doing things like this with baby twins, toddler twins, etc. Of course, when they were really little, we were in Ridgecrest. But we could have gone when they were 5, 6, 7, etc. Oh well. It was fun with 17-year-old Teen B, too, even though he complained a lot. We made fun of Rocket Boy, who asks embarrassing questions and knows more about everything than the guides do, and we mostly walked around without him (to avoid having to listen to the embarrassing questions). 

On the way home we stopped at Starbucks (of course). The twins aren't supposed to drink out of straws for two weeks (one more week, in other words), so Teen B got a strawberry drink instead of the summer berry refresher. Teen A texted me that he wanted the summer berry drink, but I got it sans straw.

I had the divine horchata drink. I'm so afraid they're about to cancel it. Must drink as many as possible before it goes away.

At Walker Ranch, there were hummingbirds EVERYWHERE. It was so wonderful. A few days ago, we had hummingbirds here, too, which was also wonderful. I don't know where they came from all of a sudden. Perhaps they were attracted by the flowers in the new planter? (See photo at the top of this post.) Mostly it was a male (the males make a buzzing noise), but then a female came too. 

I hadn't changed the nectar in a week or so, and I was worried that it might have gone bad, but they seemed to love it. That night I was going to make more, but I realized/remembered that we were completely out of white sugar. So, the next day I went to King Soopers and got more sugar, and that night I made more nectar. And I haven't seen a hummingbird since! Maybe they like it better when it's old -- maybe the sugar is stronger because some of the water has evaporated? Or maybe it had gone bad and they all died from it. I don't know. Maybe they'll come back. I'm waiting.

This coming week we have a few minor things planned. I'm seeing the oral surgeon again tomorrow afternoon. My old Michigan friends and I have a Zoom call planned for Tuesday morning. Rocket Boy is getting his hair cut on Wednesday. And then we think maybe we'll feel good enough to start planning a few little trips. We might even take our first college tour (I'm thinking Colorado State on Thursday or Friday). 

I need to start cooking again, although Teen A still thinks he can't chew. We ate out at Panera last night and Teen A didn't even come with us because he said he would want to eat and there would be nothing he could eat. Panera has soup -- that was why I thought of it. I had a bowl of broccoli cheddar soup and papaya green iced tea and it was delicious. But Teen B came with us, and he had a chicken ranch sandwich and ate the whole thing! So I think they can eat. And I can make real food this week. Maybe not a crunchy salad, though. I'll think about it.

And something political? Hmmm? Maybe a letter. I reminded myself that I want my political actions to be POSITIVE, not negative and angry and depressing. I want to support people who are doing the right things, not waste time criticizing those who aren't. So I thought I might write an encouraging letter to Ketanji Brown Jackson. Or someone like that. I'll see. If I could do even one thing this week, I would feel better.

July is such a hot month

We've actually had some cool nights recently, so the house isn't hot (thank goodness), but last week, Wednesday night was dreadful -- it never got out of the 70s. I think it was actually closer to 80 most of the night, and so of course the house didn't cool off and I had an awful time falling asleep. It was also windy, with hot air blowing in the window. Hopefully we won't have many more nights like that this summer.

But we'll have plenty of hot days. Today it's currently 90, with a predicted high of 91 and only a slight chance of thunderstorms. Tomorrow it's supposed to be 94 with a 50% chance of thunderstorms (which means it'll be humid, ick).

So this was a busy week, and kind of a sucky one too, on account of me having to get a tooth "extracted" on Monday. I was awake for the procedure and it was very interesting, because they had to work so hard to get the tooth out. The oral surgeon kept bracing herself against my chin and then pulling really hard. "Doing OK?" she would ask me, panting. I wanted to say, "Yes, and you?" but I couldn't, because my mouth was full of instruments and such. I could only nod. All that pulling is probably why I ended up with an ugly bruise on my chin (the photo shows it a few days later, when it was turning yellow and the swelling had mostly gone down). (The photo also shows the scars from my parathyroidectomy in 2021 and my parotidectomy in 1975. What a great looking neck I have.)

I wasn't surprised by the trouble. Back in 2022, when my old dentist pulled a tooth before I got braces, he had a terrible time getting it out too, due to my long roots. With this week's tooth, there was a lot of decay and the tooth was "mushy," plus (I assume) this one also had long roots. And just like with the previous tooth, I've had a lot of pain (though not as bad as that one). The oral surgeon gave me prescriptions for mega-ibuprofen and tylenol with codeine, and just for grins Rocket Boy also gave me some of his old gabapentin. I stopped the tylenol with codeine and gabapentin after Wednesday, but as of today (Sunday), I'm still waking up in pain, so I've continued taking the mega-ibuprofen in the morning and some regular tylenol before I go to bed. Today the pain was actually worse and I had to take a second mega-ibuprofen in the early evening.

I can't chew very well and I have to avoid anything with sharp edges: nuts, chips, anything with little pieces. I've been surviving mainly on Icelandic yogurt and split pea soup. No cereal with raspberries. No crunchy vegetables for dinner. I'm just not a happy camper.

But a lot of other things happened this week -- life does keep rattling along, regardless of one's dental issues. On Wednesday, Rocket Boy and I had tickets to see "The Tempest," part of this year's Colorado Shakespeare Festival, just down the road from us at CU. It wasn't in the usual outside theater, it was indoors because the outdoor theater is being redone, but we didn't mind -- we had good seats and it was air conditioned. I'd seen a play there once before. My bruise was at its most horrible that day, plus the bone graft apparently causes really terrible breath, so I wore a mask and tried to breathe through my nose the whole time. It was OK.  

I thought the production was excellent. They had a woman playing Prospero (she was called Prospera) and that worked just fine. Ariel was played by a man, and that worked too, very funny, actually, because he was kind of a big man, not at all fairy-like. Some of the other parts were misgendered too, but not clearly. For instance, Caliban was played by a woman, but I'm not sure we were supposed to care about that -- I *think* the other characters referred to her as him. Anyway, doesn't matter. I enjoyed the play very much, was glad we went despite everything.

During intermission we went outside and there was a raccoon wandering around, seemed almost completely unconcerned about the people near him/her. It was just waking up, getting ready for its night of hunting. I took some pictures of it.

We knew we hadn't been to Shakespeare in a LONG time -- I mean, we've seen Shakespeare plays more recently, but we haven't been to the FESTIVAL in ages. (That's what people in town call it -- "going to Shakespeare.") When we got home, I looked it up in my list books.

• In 2003 we saw "The Taming of the Shrew" with our friends Gordon & Kathy
• In 2004 we saw "Antony & Cleopatra" with our friend Gordon (I think this is the play we saw indoors, but I'm not sure)
• Also in 2004 we saw "Romeo & Juliet" with Gordon & Kathy. I *think* this was the time Gordon got very drunk at intermission and ended up leaving early, going home, and tying Kathy's dogs to his mailbox post to indicate that he was mad at her for some alcoholic reason and she should go home and not bother him (the dogs had been left in his yard during the play). It was very stressful and dramatic.
• In 2007 we saw "A Midsummer Night's Dream" with Gordon (he and Kathy had broken up by this time; I was pregnant and nauseous)
• Also in 2007 we saw "A Servant of Two Masters" with Gordon (ditto). Not a play by Shakespeare, but part of the Shakespeare Festival.

And we think that's it! My notes on "Things I Did" get a little fuzzy after we moved back to Colorado in 2013, but I can't remember going to Shakespeare since then. So it was about time.

*** 

On Thursday I was scheduled to get a phone call from Social Security at 10:30 am to help me register for Medicare, since I had utterly failed at doing so the week before. I set my alarm for 9 am so I'd be ready for the call in plenty of time. Instead, the call came at 8:30, when I was still asleep (remember, this was the terribly hot night when I slept so badly). I staggered to the kitchen where the home phone is, answered, and it was some chirpy lady from some other agency (I didn't catch the name) saying she was helping Social Security out today and wanted to get a jump start on her long list of calls. Fortunately, all I had to do was remember my name, mother's maiden name, where I was born -- things like that -- and she did all the rest. So now apparently I'm registered for Medicare. We'll see if my card actually arrives in a few weeks.

I had worn my skimpiest nightgown that hot night -- it's actually an oversized tank top -- and I don't like to wear underwear to bed. So when I ran for the phone, I was just barely covered. I thought no twins were up yet, but I went to sit in the living room to complete the call and Teen A had spent the night on the couch (which he does on hot nights, because it's cooler in there than in their room). When I saw him, and realized he was waking up, I did an about face, hurried back to my bedroom and quickly found a pair of panties to put on, all while still answering the lady's questions. And then I went back to the living room. I just didn't want him to accidentally see me without underpants -- that would have finished him off, I think.

Later that day my birthday planter arrived! Rocket Boy put it together, including gluing a piece that had arrived partly broken. Today we got the dirt and flowers for it, but I haven't planted them yet, just arranged them in the planter, still in their little pots. This photo shows it with some dirt, from our backyard. I'll take a picture after I get it planted. Oh, and the flagstones that the legs are standing on! Rocket Boy made two trips to Resource to get just the right flagstone (the second one came from our backyard).

Setting this up with RB reminds me of my father helping my mother with her gardening. He would do all the structural work and she would do the happy puttering. In many ways, I am my mother and RB is my father (not in all ways, but in enough to make it funny).

*** 

On Friday we had the most exciting activity of the week: Teen A's appearance in Traffic Court. His accident was on May 21st, but it took this long for his court date to arrive. We had to be there at 8:30, which was really early for us, but we actually made it to the Justice Center by about 8:20, which I felt proud about. Because this is Boulder, the Justice Center was very attractive and clean and new-looking, and everyone was polite to everyone else.

And then it all fell apart, because we got confused about where to go and there was no one to ask except the Clerk of the Court, and to talk to her you had to take a number, and the people ahead of us were slow, and I looked at my phone and it was already 8:39, and it was like a nightmare! Rocket Boy saved the day, though, by asking someone in an unrelated office what to do (I would have been too afraid to bother her), and she told us where to go, and we made it to the right courtroom before they closed the doors at 8:45.

Because we were late, we were almost last on the docket (followed only by someone else who'd been confused like us and a Nepalese man who needed a translator). But that meant that we got to observe all the other cases and see what the people decided to do (pay the fine, take a class, etc.). I was interested in WHERE people got their tickets. A lot of them occurred on Table Mesa between Broadway and Foothills. Maybe that's just where traffic cops hang out, but it's also a nasty stretch of road, one that I avoid when possible. Many tickets were issued in the evening; one guy got a ticket for going 75 in a 45-mph zone at 4:58 am. 

I was also interested in what people wore to court. There was a lot of black. One guy, who didn't have a very bad ticket but said he couldn't afford to pay it that day, had tattoos on his neck which I thought distracted from his otherwise sober outfit. The 4:58 am guy wore shorts so you could see the skull tattoo on his leg. When it was over, I told Teen A that it was up to him if he ever wanted to get a tattoo, but he might want to think about NOT getting one that was visible when he tried to dress up for court, in case it influenced the judge negatively. "Mom, I KNOW," Teen A said, irritably. "Anyway, that judge didn't care if people had tattoos." He was probably right, she was a very chill judge, but I said, "Some other judge might care. Just don't do something to shoot yourself in the foot before you even give yourself a chance."

Teen A was dressed very nicely, I thought (he chose his own outfit, although we did discuss it a little, a few days earlier). A couple weeks ago he asked me if I could buy him some button-down shirts (all he owned previously were gray, black, and white t-shirts). So we picked out a couple online, and he was wearing one that day -- an attractive blue plaid -- over a white t-shirt. And cargo pants. He looked like a teenager who was trying to look nice. 

Anyway, we and the judge agreed to knock his ticket down from 4 points on his license to 1 point by paying a fine and having him take an online class. (We had to pay for the class too, but I thought it was worth it, to get rid of that extra point. It's all coming out of his Social Security money, anyway.) He's already finished the class and written the essay for it, and the essay's been approved, so we just have to submit it to the court and then he'll be done.

***

Rocket Boy's brother's birthday is tomorrow (he'll be 73), so we stopped by on Saturday and gave him a cake and a card and a King Soopers gift certificate, our usual gift. Ralph and I are kind of buddies now, after years of not getting along so well. He calls several times a week and we discuss what we're having for dinner.

The main activity tomorrow, though, is the twins getting their wisdom teeth out. Teen A at 9:20 and Teen B at 10 am. Rocket Boy is going to take Teen A there and back, and I will take Teen B (that way, Teen B doesn't have to sit in the waiting room while Teen A has his procedure, and Teen A doesn't have to sit in the car, bleeding, while Teen B has his. So, a lot of driving, and then a lot of misery, trying to get them to take pain meds and not drink through straws. As soon as I post this, I'm going to quick go make jello and pudding, to have on hand tomorrow. We have popsicles and ice cream and canned soup, and Rocket Boy plans to make homemade mushroom soup tomorrow night. It's supposed to be 94, not really soup weather, but we'll see.

And I don't think we have much else planned for the week, just recovering, basically. I go back and see the oral surgeon again the following week for a check-up, and I don't know if the twins go back or not. We'll find out tomorrow. I'll plant my planter and try to stay cool, and that's about it.

Happy birthday and a sad Independence Day

Oh my, the joys and sorrows of having a birthday right around the 4th of July. When I was young, I disliked having my birthday get lost in the shuffle of the holiday. When I was older (and stopped having formal parties) I discovered that it was fun to mix the two together. I still enjoy it, to some extent, but in a year when the country is coming apart at the seams, it makes the birthday so sad too!

We have two giant American flags (from Rocket Boy's retirement from federal service -- they sent him one, and then a few weeks later another, accidentally), so it seemed like it would be nice to hang one up. But we didn't want people to think we were (a) Republicans, or (b) DJT supporters, or (c) people who think the country is going in the right direction. So I got the bright idea to get a Pride Flag, especially because the current version of the Pride Flag also has the white-pink-blue of the Trans Flag and some brown and black stripes to represent people of color. In other words, all the people the current Administration is targeting! 

This was an OK week. Monday we went to the oral surgeon for our consultations, and made appointments for me to get a tooth pulled and the kids to get their wisdom teeth out. Teen A's look a lot worse than Teen B's -- they're turned sideways and will have to be dug out. But he's tough. Teen B's are actually starting to poke through his gums, so they'll be fairly easy to get out, which is good, because he's not tough. He's very worried about the IV, but I really think he needs to be asleep for this, ditto Teen A, so we're going with full anesthesia. 

I'm going to be awake for my procedure, hope that's OK. I am dreading mine, which will be tomorrow. They're going to take blood from me and mix it with bone from a cadaver to make the bone graft. That just sounds so macabre. Probably it will be nothing. I hope. 

On Thursday, Rocket Boy and I went to the Denver Museum, just to have something to do and because we hadn't been there in a while. (The twins did not want to come with us.) We're members, and we didn't use our membership ONCE last year. They're in the process of enlarging and changing the museum yet again, so some things weren't open and some things needed work, but we did go see one special exhibit: "Jurassic Oceans: Monsters of the Deep." It was OK. It cost $8 for me and $6 for Rocket Boy (because he's a senior -- I was still two days away from being a senior). It seemed like a lot to us, only $1 less than non-members, but then we're getting old and everything sounds like a lot. 

Traffic was terrible, both going and coming (the day before the 3-day weekend), but we made it home, and then I hopped back in the car and went to McGuckin's to get their last Pride Flag. Broadway and downtown were just a zoo, with Phish fans wandering all over everywhere, crossing against the light, etc. (Phish was playing three concerts at the CU stadium, on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights.) But I succeeded in my mission and we hung both flags on the morning of the 4th. We'll take them down today, I guess. Or maybe we'll leave up the Pride Flag for a while.

Friday was kind of a lazy day, otherwise. I took a nap and missed the PBS NewsHour -- mostly intentionally. The BUB passed the day before and I guess it was signed on Friday and I didn't want to hear about it. So I skipped it. Rocket Boy watched.

Rocket Boy cleaned the barbecue -- we can't remember when we last used it -- and we grilled vegetables, hot dogs, and a piece of swordfish, cut into chunks. 

Teen A was off with friends, so he didn't join us (he claimed, via text, that he was climbing a mountain near NCAR). I ate a hot dog and then stopped -- too full, just from that. Teen B spotted the portobello mushroom caps on the plate and grabbed one and ate the whole thing. Munch munch munch. Then he took a skewer and started eating the vegetables off it. I was stunned. He didn't even eat a hot dog. Maybe he had one piece of fish, I'm not sure. But I sat there thinking, "I did something right! I somehow managed to raise my son right, in this one little way -- he's voluntarily eating vegetables!"

You could hear the concert from our house -- not enough to recognize individual songs, just this sort of vague music-ish noise (not that I would recognize a Phish song). Also, of course, fireworks were going off all over. Boom! Boom! Our next-door neighbors and tenants set off fireworks in their backyard and in the street. Rocket Boy went over to watch -- I just couldn't. Too afraid of fire. We've had a lot of rain this year, so things aren't super dry, but still... I guess they had a hose at the ready and sprayed down everything after lighting each one, but still.

Around 10 pm or so, Rocket Boy and I decided to walk to the park to see if anybody was shooting off fireworks there. Some teenagers were having a good time, shooting fireworks at each other (very dangerous) and screaming. We sat down on the bleachers by the baseball diamond to watch from a distance. Then we saw the teenagers go over to the Portapotty by the picnic structure. They threw something inside it and slammed the door. BOOM! The explosion was the loudest one yet, and flames came out of the Portapotty on both sides. But the Portapotty itself seemed to be intact. So they did it again. BOOM!!! I mean, really really loud. I decided I'd better call 911, so I did, but the dispatcher wasn't very interested. "We'll drive by and check it out," he said. And by then the teenagers were wandering off, so we did too.

Back at home, I texted Teen A to see if he needed a ride from wherever he was. He said "Maybe," but he ended up just getting home by himself, in some unknown way, around 12:30 am. He had asked us to leave the back door unlocked, but I just waited up for him. There was no way anyone was getting any sleep, in any case, due to all the continuing explosions. When he finally got home, he sat on the couch for a while, texting with his friends. I told him about the exploding Portapotty. "Mom, I know," he said. 

"Were you there?" I asked. We hadn't seen him, but it was very dark and there were a lot of teenagers there.

"I was everywhere tonight," he told me. "I went by it twice, afterwards."

Hmm. 

The next day, Teen B showed me that Teen A had posted a photo of the inside of the exploding Portapotty on Instagram, but it was after the fact. He didn't have any photos of the actual explosions. So maybe he's telling the truth, maybe he just went by afterwards. (Note: this is my photo, from a day or two later. The Portapotty didn't sustain as much damage as we might have expected. But it's gone now, hauled away to the Portapotty repair shop, I suppose.)

Teen A is having a very fun summer, even without a car. I feel as though the lack of a car is in some ways making his summer MORE fun. He gets rides from friends, he borrows bikes, he walks all over town. He also seems to be managing just fine on his $20/week allowance (from his social security money). And this could be his last fun summer, if he has an apprenticeship next summer. We'll see.

The next day was my birthday and I made the strawberry bundt cake from the NY Times cooking section that I had been planning on making for a while. It turned out kind of meh. I used a combination of strawberries and raspberries on the inside (and a mixture of strawberry and raspberry yogurt), and just raspberries in the glaze that went on top, because half of the strawberries I'd bought had already rotted. I think it would have been better if I could have found GOOD strawberries, like what we used to get in Ridgecrest. 

It turned out more like a coffee cake than a birthday cake. It was OK. I had a piece for breakfast this morning and Teen B did too, so maybe it'll gradually get eaten. But it's not as good as the banana bread coffee cake that I make a lot. Very dense and fruity. I don't think I would make this again.

Other than the cake -- which was actually fine -- I had a really nice birthday. I got cards from three friends, my sisters, Rocket Boy and the kids, and our next door neighbor. Also emails from a friend and a cousin, and a phone call a couple days before from another friend. I loved Rocket Boy's card. It had a picture of a bald eagle on the front, and inside it said, "Continue to be fierce, be bold, be you. Happy Birthday." I thought that was such a lovely sentiment to receive from a husband! A lot of husbands might not appreciate a wife who was fierce and bold. I don't know if I really am those things, but I have definitely felt like that this spring/summer, and it felt good to be appreciated.

My older sister also sent some lovely gifts, which is her specialty -- no one can pick out presents like she can. And Rocket Boy had some chocolate for me, but it had melted into a lump. Today he got online and ordered me some of the tea I enjoyed when I stayed with my friends in Michigan -- Fortnum & Mason Royal Blend. And the planter we picked out will arrive Thursday, they estimate. So maybe next weekend we'll go pick out some more flowers for it.

We ate out at Chautauqua, which used to be my favorite place to go on my birthday, but I hadn't been there in a while. We don't think we'd EVER taken the twins there to eat (they'd been to Chautauqua, but not for a meal). I had a chicken mole dish for my main course -- chicken's not my thing, but I just couldn't turn down mole when I saw it on the menu, so delicious. And then for dessert I made a mistake -- since I had been disappointed by my birthday cake, I ordered a large piece of chocolate cake. And I've been sick ever since! 

Oh, it's OK. I haven't thrown up, but I felt really sick when I went to bed, in fact I put something to throw up into next to the bed, and when I woke up this morning I still felt sick. So it'll be a good transition into not being able to eat (after my oral surgery tomorrow). All I've had so far today (it's almost 5 pm) is a piece of my birthday cake, an iced horchata oatmilk shaken espresso from Starbucks, and a lot of tea with milk. I love that horchata thing, by the way. I think about it all week. I looked to see if other people love it, and there's a whole long post on Reddit about how much people hate it, which means, I suppose, that it won't last long. I still love it.

But Teen B reminded me that when it goes away, pumpkin spice lattes will come back, and I love them too, so it'll be OK. 

Despite the dessert debacle, it was so neat to be at Chautauqua with the whole family. I felt really lucky, really blessed, if I can use that term. Chautauqua is such a lovely place, and being there on a July evening was just beyond delightful. It wasn't too hot. There was a little thunder and it rained briefly. There were people playing catch on the lawn, a magpie flying by, a beautiful hanging basket above our table. It was kind of like we'd taken an exotic vacation for my 65th birthday -- except all we did was drive one mile north and one mile west. We could have walked. I *have* walked it (well, I've walked home from there). 

I'm really lucky to live here. 

I haven't done a Mounjaro report in a while. I was thinking I'd switch to doing them once a month, giving what my weight is on the first of the month. So, to start, here is my weight on the first day of each month of 2025 so far.

• January 1: 228.8
• February 1: 226.2
• March 1: 224.2
• April 1: 224 
• May 1: 221.4
• June 1: 222.6
• July 1: 217.8

You can see how the weight keeps going down, even though there are little blips. It's still kind of amazing to me. I wish I felt better on this stupid drug, but I'm glad I'm continuing to get smaller. At this rate, a year from now I could weigh less than 200 pounds.

So now I am 65. I haven't managed to sign up for Medicare yet, but I have a phone appointment for Thursday to get that all set up (there was a problem with the social security website when I tried to set this up this week). We have federal employee health insurance for life (assuming that isn't tampered with, and I don't want to think about that), but I still need to sign up for Medicare Part A. 

If I ride the bus somewhere from now on it will cost me only $1.35 for a 3-hour pass (instead of $2.75). The twins are currently free -- until they turn 19, after which they will have to pay $2.75. Funny how I'm easing into cheaper fares and admission fees and whatnot, just as the twins are about to ease into more expensive ones. I hope they will be able to get jobs that will pay for all this. We shall see.

What do I have planned for my 65th year? (or actually my 66th year, if you want to get technical about it). My year of being 65, how's that? Not much. Just getting through the twins' last year of high school, helping them navigate it, helping them plan what comes next. Keeping the family afloat, doing the housework and laundry and cooking. Reading a lot, writing when I can. Protesting! Standing up to the horrid DJT administration. And staying open to whatever the world needs from me, I guess. Trying not to be afraid and not to get discouraged. Even if everything is ruined by these people, it can still be fixed later, maybe by people who come after me, if this turns out to be a very long process.

As Alexei Navalny said, about the corrupt regime in Russia: "One day, we will look at it, and it won't be there. Victory is inevitable. But for now, we must not give up, and we must stand by our beliefs." Alexei Navalny was murdered for standing up for his beliefs. The least I can do is keep trying.