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Last few days of September really grim, no energy, scrolling the internet except for binge-watching TV shows. Good shows, ok, but still. Yesterday it finally dawned on me -- it's the last bit of grief again. Mom died 24 years ago this month. So there's always a bit of 'feeling unaccountably down' in the run-up to that anniversary.

What's happening in the country is appalling, and she would be incensed. She started telling us in the 1990s that this country was headed for fascism but we couldn't see it. Now we can. When the 2000 election was thrown into the courts she decided to stay alive to see the outcome. We finally told her she could let go of the election and stay alive even after it was concluded. The next day, the Supremes decided to stop a Florida recount, and Al Gore became "the guy who used to be the next president of the United States."

She thought the recount should have proceeded. Me, too.

Today she would be telling us that she warned us, which she did. I wish any of us had been powerful enough to stop the iceball from rolling downhill this far.

Finally caught it, after five years of careful masking. Two airplanes and a crowded airport, unmasking only to eat. Ah, well.

I'm doing okay, but still symptomatic. Paxlovid suppressed all symptoms, then they came roaring back but possibly only for a couple days. Today easing again. Later I'll test -- I bet still positive, but we'll see. I was back in the field, cautiously, briefly, last week but not talking to people, just shadowing a new-hire.

Still not letting anybody into my apartment, where I still occasionally have big, wet, unexpected sneezes.

Suddenly today I noticed -- it should have been / was / obvious -- that I'm just about 11 years younger than my mother was when she died.

I already know I don't want to live the way she did in her last 5 years. Does that mean I have about 5-6 good years left? Maybe, though in a few ways I am healthier than she was. Notably, I am taller and straighter of spine than she was.

Cognition, though ... increasing moments of brain fog, increasing Senior Moments, increasing moments of 'what was I just doing?' At some point I will either grow infuriated / tired of those, or adjust and stop caring about them. We'll see which.

So much to say, or not.
I love working with people as we struggle with our pride, perfectionism, wordsmithing to make it 'just right.'

So today I'm writing here instead of several other things I 'should' be doing.

Editing the typo's in yesterday's entry (well, day before yesterday), for one.

But there's a poetry book I'm editing for a friend who needs the money and has written some poems that need more permanent seeing.
And there's a history I'm working on, with two interviews to transcribe and insert into a rough timeline.
And there's at least one memoir and a novel that are crying out for work.
Plus I should be doing Ribbon Divination for people if I want it to outlive me (do I?).

I have 3 hours until I'm supposed to be at Pilates. Should I also walk today? or wait?

And a student coming at 2 to work with me on a ritual design, in which I want to push him to take the lead.

Not to mention the question of what's the purpose of this journal.

Started the day with the usual weekly Team meeting where I am a Hospice chaplain, meeting with nurses and social workers to talk about our patients. We used to meet in person, which mean each of us driving alone from home to the office (commutes of 15-90 minutes per person), then each of us drive to our first patient visit (again with the potentially long commute back to our territories). It was immensely valuable for getting to know your coworkers, and for the inevitable three-person sidebars before and after the official 25-person meeting, as we solved at greater length or more detail the particular problems of some one or two patients. It was also immensely time consuming for each of us, and costly for the organization, which had to pay mileage and time between the meeting and the first visit.

Now, in the post-Covid era, we meet virtually through MSTeams. So nobody has to get dressed until 8:25 am, zero commute time or gas. Some people attend the meeting while driving to their first appointment. Sometimes I do that, too.

At today's meeting I have only a few patients, which is fine-- as a part-timer I don't want a full caseload. But still we don't get done until 10:25 or so.

I clean up some documentation and make a few calls and then it's time for the Bereavement meeting. My job-title is chaplain but about half my time is spent doing Bereavement support with the families of the recently deceased. This meeting is usually NOT talking about individual clients, but more ongoing skill development.

Today we heard an update from the recent ADEC meeting -- the Association for Death Education and Counseling -- which was attended by one of our number. Sounds exactly like the conference I should attend next year.

Woke spontaneously at 6 am. Did the usual sequence of clearing bathroom and kitchen counters for the housekeeping crew I pay to do bathrooms and floors. Sometimes they try to dust, but the number of tiny objects on various altars is ... I keep telling them not to bother. And then every once in awhile I'll clear one off and start again.

I've been culling. Paper, some of it in the longterm filing-and-organizing project in the room that may someday be a study. Some of it just single pages in the 'do it' pile, some of which are already 'done' and some 'never mind'. And things: magical objects whose magical intent is complete (or forgotten). Duplications, especially those caused by my poor memory. Objects I saved from my mom's collection and finally recognize I no longer need.

If I take a box a week to the thrift store, when will this be done?

Last year I took 16 boxes of books to the used bookstore for $5/box. They're using Artificial Intelligence to sort them into groups and post on ebay etc and apparently it's a thriving business. Every time I walk in with more books, they're taking more space and have more people present.

I'm troubled about the use of AI for writing tasks -- it has clearly begun taking over the paid work of several categories of writers. The revolution in 'content creating', in which amateurs post stuff and monetize their blogs when they have enough followers ... is probably going to push human content creators right out. Just as free content pushed a lot of professional content out.

In many ways it appears the world is going to Hell. I'm 78 and get out of breath too easily; what can I do about it?

I wonder why I can't just set the size of type once and for all, rather than by typing something too small to see, then highlighting it, then starting to type in mid-word. I mean, that works ... but why can't I set the size BEFORE typing?

It seems that a number of barriers have lifted, including several I hadn't been able to identify. Over the weekend I started actually working with the paper files again, culling what no longer serves and refreshing my memory about what is still valued. I printed photos of two important ancestors-of-blood and wished I knew where I might find a painting of another.

I've started exercising again -- I've walked on 4 separate occasions in the past two weeks, each time for a mile or more. Thursday and today (Monday) I also worked out on six machines: leg press, inner thighs, outer thighs, chest press, shoulder press, lat pulldown. Even spent 10 minutes on the seated eliptical bike. Thursday I was exhausted, stiffened up right away, spent two days aching and stiff. Today I was exhausted but pushed forward to do a couple of stretches and a few bicep curls. Recovered more quickly today; we'll see how stiff I am tomorrow.

Spring Magic yesterday was, well, magical. Ivo spoke on Ancestor work and made suggestions that seem easily doable to improve my communication with my Beloved Dead. Robin led a ritual to energize Columbia (an avatar of Athena who holds the consciousness of our country) in which we each made claims and pledges. I wish I had captured them all, or even mine. Among those I remember:

People claimed the Sword of Perseverance, or Justice, or Courage. Some named various deities. People claimed as their light the Torch of Transparency, or Honesty, or Clear Sight. Pledges took various forms: some people pledged their fealty to this or that deity, others pledged a wide assortment of actions: to substantively support and vocally spread the truth, or to lay their body on the line for democracy. So many pledges. We are all Protectors of Liberty and Freedom.

Karen taught the making of protection sigils, especially one for Gwendolyn for safe, easy return from international travel, which looks increasingly important.
I came home energized and hopeful.

Blessed Be.

Trick question. I know perfectly well what happened: I discovered a small number of Facebook Reels I wanted to follow. Next thing you know I'm posting hours with my nose in the screen doing pretty much nothing. Shawna The Mom and Toxic Mother-in-Law to start, then Mickey Haller and clips of Gray's Anatomy ... and now I'm binge-watching the past 10 years of Grey's Anatomy since it fell off my radar when I got busy a few years ago.

In the meantime work is up and down as usual, 2024's W2 nearly twice the year before's. Just a year ago tomorrow I received my Third Degree Initiation, and have been functioning more and more as part of Leadership. This is feeling pretty good actually, though at first I was hesitant.

Today I've been clearing out old emails and deciding to keep a few of them. Got a chance to review several sermons I preached -- 3 at USG, plus a homily. Maybe later on I'll look to see if any of them still exist from UUCP, though they were probably not recorded anyway. It's been a reminder of how much I've learned about presenting and speaking in public.

Recently I gave a presentation from an outline and it wasn't nearly as good as it would have been if I'd written out the whole talk, even if I then gave it without looking.

I need to keep updating here; it helps me stay grounded.

In September I move from the 9th floor to the 5th, and from a north-facing apartment with windows on one side to a northwest facing apartment with windows on two sides, and a balcony. Before I finished unpacking it was clearly necessary to put plastic over the sliding glass doors to the balcony, so I didn't get out there much until May.

Couple weeks ago I bought a couple of hanging plants, and hung them on a standing rack I bought years ago for traveling with long robes for Pagan gatherings. They were pretty there.

The first surprise was that the coleus couldn't take the breeze and preferred to be moved into full shade in the late afternoon when the setting sun roasted the balcony for a couple of hours.

The second surprise was today: thunderstorms predicted, some with hail. Well, we didn't get hail, but we did get gusting winds and low-flying clouds, visibility down to a quarter mile or so. And at some point, the wind caught the begonia and threw it off the balcony, along with part of the rack. I'm so glad the weather was awful so no one was out there to be struck by flying bits.

The storm also overturned a parson's table and threw the mini-cauldron and two candlesticks to the floor, but that was less traumatic.

Guess I shoulda known.

Core dump.

I should go back and add tags to the last many entries. I wonder when I'll do that, if at all.
I should blog about the experience of leading a bereavement group and feeling that I'd like to be doing it better.
I wonder how candid to be in this venue.
I should build a website and start offering freelance services -- like what?
What is this new Third Degree leading me to next?

It's 10 pm do you know where your sleep is?

My first grief group has two more sessions, tomorrow and one week later. I've used all the ideas I started with. Not sure what to do next.

Maybe "how do you want your beloved to be remembered as you move forward with your life?" But we're already done lots of that.

I'm wondering what I actually want to do with this blog ... and whether this time I'll continue to write consistently.

Maybe later.

Spent the morning finalizing plans for the Grief Group I'm leading, starting today. Eight 90-minute sessions over 10 weeks. Handouts and exercises and opportunities to get to know one another. I'm anxious, nervous, well-prepared.

So I've been doing Bereavement work since early December. Some of it has been satisfying, even fun. Some of it I've felt hopeless at -- my rhythm off, my supportive comments misplaced.

Tomorrow I'm running a grief group solo, having co-led exactly one. I think I understand something about it, but I don't feel ready -- and today I've pretty much squandered the time I might have spent preparing. I have some ideas about tomorrow, and some awareness of my own nervousness. Mostly I'm in 'we'll see' mode.

It won't be like the light-touch facilitating I do in Death Cafe, and I need to be clear about that.

Awhile back -- year or three ago -- I got a sudden assignment to cover Tony's bereavement clients when he retired. I had several weeks notice and plenty of guidance from Tony about his specific folks. I learned a lot about bereavement counseling during those few months, and then eventually we hired a couple new coordinators who had social work degrees, and I finished up with the last of the clients and went back to chaplaincy.

Now it's happened again -- I'm covering Carolyn's clients on just one day's notice. I'm reminded just how hard it is to manage scheduling in the Bereavement module of Epic -- and for no good reason. It's not that they don't know how to make scheduling transparent and easy to adjust, as we do in the Home Care module.

As I look at having 25 phone calls scheduled for tomorrow, plus at least two Zoom sessions, I'm trying to figure out how to manage it all.

I'm trying not to rant. My car has a stupid electrical glitch. The dealership (various people, once each) has been assuming I just don't know how to run the car, have maybe pushed buttons accidentally, can't read the labels or don't realize that most of the buttons are toggles ...

They kept the car for a week, acceded to my request for a loaner -- a rental which, in the end, I actually paid NOTHING for. They weren't able to reproduce the issue.

Finally the service manager told me to bring it back in the next time that display lit up, and don't shut it off, so they can read the codes. So it happened at 4 pm when I was an hour away, but no point in bringing it over at 5 because everyone goes home. It happened on the weekend but the service department's not open.

Finally on Monday it happened. I brought it in, after arguing with the receptionist who clearly saw her job as defending the sacrosanct service schedule from greedy entitled people trying to jump the line. They read the code. The code said "electrical" but nothing else.

Great! We knew that. How could it be anything BUT electrical? So what this tells me is that they thought I was just a silly old lady complaining about nothing.

Except that the user group at [car model] dotcom has been talking about EXACTLY this issue for over a year. And it was a problem in the previous model year, too. So what is the manufacturer doing about it? Why is every dealership treating their customer as though it's something they never heard of before, or something that couldn't be happening?

And what's with the morning's service writer ("Jay", who I hadn't met before) say this is a "diag" issue, like I would recognize that abbreviation?

So yes, I'm ranting. I've been here 3 hours and 45 minutes without an update. They warned me diagnosis could take all day.

So Sept 20 I took possession of a new apartment. Same building, lower floor, more square footage, a whole other bedroom and bath. Against the day when I might need a roommate, or at least some overnight help. In the meantime, a possible study.

Now that I've been here six weeks, I should acknowledge I'm not nearly as unpacked as I would like. Most of the books are up, much better sorted than last time, because I took more time with it. Last time I unpacked them hastily because I couldn't move furniture in with all the book boxes. This time I had the movers put furniture in first and crowd the book boxes in around everything ... which made it important to do the books first, but not unliveable if I took awhile.

So they're done, or nearly. A couple of boxes of journals and probably another box of books I haven't found yet, that's all that remains. But the study is still carpeted in boxes, mostly files that should be in a cabinet, but also altar cloths and a few other things.

I haven't opened a new box in a week, because (or mostly because) I've been sick. Went on a wonderful Samhain retreat last weekend and came home with a cold, which is better but still here. My stamina is way down.

I gave myself overlap of 9 days, and paid for the privilege ... but it was useful to be able to move with some intentionality. I still have a few things I need to ask Maintenance to do, as soon as I figure out when.

Must be a reason for all this procrastination. Not writing the memoir. Not writing the novel. Not learning about 21st-century publishing. Also not preparing my presentation for Tuesday. What am I doing instead? Feeling bored, playing solitaire, reading drivel.

Is this just 'short attention span' as a result of 'too much reading facebook?' Probably, in part, but what's the important piece that's missing?

Lots of nostalgia lately. Thinking about movies from long ago, stars I used to love who have died, or stopped appearing. Or worse, appeared lately only in talk shows and cameo roles. Is that true of the actual people in my life, as well as the characters?

I miss Captain Furillo and Miss Davenport. I miss Leo and President Bartlett, and CJ (both as press secretary and as chief of staff). I'm glad John Spencer got to have fun with his acting career and sorry it ended so soon.

I could be unpacking more, or arranging the living room better. I could be hanging the pictures I sorted three days ago, or the coathooks I bought on Thursday.

I'm stalled, and I'm asking why instead of just moving through it.

Hmm.

Don't know why it's been so long. I often see this tab open on my browser, but pass it by, usually in favor of veggie out on Facebook or playing another round of one of the 20 or so solitaire cardgames on my computer.

This, while I hold an intention to write an autobiography, and a novel, and by the way I have a presentation to make on Tuesday of which I have only about 40% in draft form.

Writer's block? Procrastination? The takeover of shorter and shorter attention span, until I interrupt one distraction with another? Maybe.

In the meantime, it's midnight and I should have gone to bed an hour ago.

Goodnight.

So they paid me a few days later than they said they would, citing technical difficulties with the online process that turned out to be a failure of typing my email address. Or so they said.

Just when I started trying to figure out how it could become a scam if THEY paid ME, they finally replied to my second query about a pickup date. And today their team came to take the piano away. Steinway Model A, 6 feet long. They weren't nearly as polished a team as I've been used to from Mayflower (or from my friend the pianoman), but they did well enough. And it's gone.

The space in the apartment feels immense. But also, liberated. Just in time to start packing to move.

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Tending Joy

September - October blues again

Covid

Aging

Planning and teaching

Seeking productivity and wondering what that is

Meetings and meetings and meetings, oh my

Changing, rearranging

Exercising a new trend

Where did the time go?

Windstorm

Journal and Grief Group

Grief Group

Leading a Grief Group

March already

Bereavement work

Car and calendar

Remarking the move of Sept 20

Here I am Again

Long hiatus

Piano is gone

Profile

October 2025

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