I'm taking a few days off from this blog because I'm feeling misanthopic. These long dark days are really hard on me. I just need to curl up with a book and my husband for awhile. More soon.

prairie dolls

All the little prairie doll needle holders are done! Well actually my mom decided I have to make three more. But the 26 I agreed to make are finished. They are about to be shipped off to all the females in our extended family in Richmond VA and elsewhere.

This little craft project is based on the work of early 20th century artist Kate Greenaway and was originally made by my great aunts and my great grandmother. My mom wanted to share this with all the ladies in the family so they would remember how lovely the older generation was.

We are sending these dolls out with a little note that says, "A gift from the past...." And an explanation of what the doll is for and how it came to be in our family. I don't think they'll make anyone's Christmas but they're kind of interesting.

I enjoyed working with my mom on this project. Her enthusiam made the work fly by. I thought it was a rather grand plan to made so many, and I like grand plans. I really hope receiving one of these dolls will make the younger generation interested in these old Aunts and Great Grandmother. They were such artistic and interesting people.

It doesn't seem like the younger generation is much interested in their elders. But I idolized my great aunts. I wanted to be exactly like my Aunt Olive. She has been such a role model to me as to how to be and how to be an aunt. Part of which is to instill memory about the family into the younger ones so they would know where they came from.

cell phones

I know I'm beating a dead horse here, but I hate cell phones at family parties. I remember Thanksgivings where people of all ages sat around the table and talked. Everyone told interesting stories and jokes and we laughed and laughed.

But now everyone's on their cell phone, especially the young people. So you don't hear from them at all during the party. Honestly it makes me so nostalgic.

But this is the way things are now. I read a study that said women prefer electronic gifts over diamonds. And I thought something's wrong with the world.

I know the world's not going to stop and change for me which means I need to get with the program. But so help me I just can't. So I remain at odds with the planet which is not a smart position.

But it is one I find myself in more and more these days. I guess this is what it means to grow old. And I'm too young to be this old and cranky. So the cell phone's the thing at parties nowadays. I can live with that.

So the art of converstion is a lost one. I can live with that. Things in the world don't suit me anymore but I can live with it.

Just go with the flow. You have plenty of time to do what you want. You just can't expect to have close relationships with your nieces and nephews the way you did in the past.

That was then; this is now. Growing old is about growing obsolete. Feeling obsolete does not go with having a magnificent life. But the time I spend feeling obsolete is self-limiting afterall. The kids don't come banging on my door. They're not dying to see me. Cell phone or no.

The mountains

Although my house doesn't sit on a ridge like this, I still love living in the mountains. I get to see views like these everyday. It is what I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving. I like waking up to clouds in my meadow. I like the creek that runs by my house. I like the way things look with the inch of snow we've got now.

Sure I miss the culture of the city. I miss the pace and the churches and the art. But I love the peace of the mountains. The lack of traffic. The hometown feel. I don't know if I will stay here forever. It might be too lonely if I didn't have Richard.

In that case I might want to go join my son. That's why I want to get a law degree. So I can work for him if it ever comes to that. But right now I'm super thankful for the mountains and mostly for Richard who makes living here tolerable.

The beauty alone would be empty without his wit. He keeps me on my toes. And he reads so much that I have to work to keep up with him. Thanksgiving is one of the major holiday of the year. I need to find a way to be happy for at least the few hours I spend with my family.

I need to forget all the things I feel are not right and embrace the things that are. This kind of embrace is what leading a magnificent life is all about. Being grateful is at the heart of being magnificent. I feel that most of the time I live with a kind of belt cinched around my heart. I think mindfulness is focusing on  uncinching that belt. And letting the heart be whole.

letter writing

Every week I write my Aunt Beverly. Sometimes she answers which is great but I write anyway even if she doesn't. I find it to be a comforting habit to stay in touch with part of the family that I rarely get to see.

I like to dish with my Aunt about the family. Although she is very circumspect. She likes the details of people's lives as do I. We find the family an endless source of interest.

I think to write a good letter you have to be genuinely interested in other people and why they do what they do.

You also have to be willing to be self revealing. For instance Aunt Beverly just told me she's been learning lessons about letting go and then she mentioned not making the ususal crab cakes they have at Thanksgiving.

I get this immediately. When you are used to one way of doing something. What might be called a family tradition, it's really hard to let that go.

I find letters are done best on a schedule. I try to write my other friend on Wednesday but don't do so well with that as I do writing my Aunt on Sundays. Sundays seem like a natural day to write letters.

You could say I have a tradition of writing my Aunt on Sundays. And it will be hard to let that go.

wee hours

I find it comforting, if lonesome, to be up at the wee wee hours alone in my house, with the fire going and the internet for a companion. I find myself talking to other night owls from other time zones from Afghanistan to Hawaii.

Just a few minutes of internet convo and then it's back to my lonely nocternal pursuits. Looking up books, watching TV shows. Hanging out with my cat.

I'm sort of in the Medieval pattern of first sleep and second sleep with a break in the middle. I've been doing this for a while now. I go to bed early and then wake up about two in the morning. Or else I wake up really early like at 5 or so and stay up.

Being up by myself give me time to meditate on what the priorities are. Which are to take care of Richard. Help myself so I can help others. Stay in touch with my family and friends. Get this house in shape. Read books. Stay healthy.

If I were in school I guess I would be studying. What I really want to do is to be shopping on eBay. It's the time of year when I like to buy five gold rings! But I'm going to forgoe that pleasure for the good of my pocketbook.

Still tis the season to be festive. I can turn on the colored lights and listen to Holiday music to try and catch the spirit.

grateful

Well it's suddenly Thanksgiving and I have to make some candied yams. Well not that candied. I don't use marshmellows. Just brown sugar and butter.

So I'm looking for the glass dish I always use for this dish, and I find that sometime since last year it has cracked in two. Now this was a dish that was Richard's  mom's, and I already lost the pie dish I got from her. So this comes as a bad surprise.

Richard says, "Lillian (his mom) wouldn't be upset. She'd say, 'I'm just glad you kids are OK and didn't get hurt.'" But now I have no dish for my yams.

I have her old Corning Ware but it's too small. I'd have to bring two dishes. I have lots of serving dishes so I could cook the yams and then transfer them onto a serving dish but then how to reheat them at my sister's?

What I really should be thinking of is what I'm grateful for. That's what we celebrate isn't it? Being grateful. I'm grateful for so many things. As they say I count my blessings, count them one by one.

So there is my family and friends. My house. My pets. My health. My computer. Richard's jokes. My vacuum. My car.  Food, music, nature, photography, writing, law school, glasses, the internet.

I know there is so much more that I'm missing. Hot showers for examples. The blessing of not being one of the millions of the world's displaced persons. How can we be all fat and happy while so many others are suffering?

I feel that I'm called to do something, but I don't know what. Why am I so forntunate? And  yet why do I have enough personal struggles that I remained chained to an ineffective and small life?

This seems to be the problem for so many of us. We are chained to our small problems and lack the freedom to affect meaningful change.

friendship

When your young this is how you do it. It's so natural to make friends. And in  your twenties and thirties you make such good friends that you don't even think about your family or origin much at all anymore.

This is my new theory about why I haven't heard from my son. I know I was like this in my twenties. I had very good friends and I was enamored of them. I just didn't want to break to bubble of my new world to deal with my family.

I had close friends with whom I spent the holidays. I didn't think it bothered my parents at all. I thought they were fine without me. Well, in my case they had seven others to worry about. But still.
If I can survive a few more years of this, I may make it.

I'm going to Reno for Thanksgiving. I will see my nieces and nephews. I need to pay more attention to them. And by the way how did it get to be the holidays so quickly? At this rate law school will go by in a flash.

Anyway back to friends. I want Steven to have those kinds of deep, intense friendships you only have when you're young. So I have to let him go and be with those friends and do without him over the holidays and at other times as well. There's so much loss in having children; I'm surprised that anyone makes it through the process without going mad with grief.

empty nest

Kids, they break  your heart. I haven't heard form my son in a long time. I don't know; he's just not in the habit of calling me. I want to talk to him about law school, but I can't get his attention.

I know  his phone was broken. But surely it's been remedied by  now. Anyway that's his deal.

I have to live my own life now. It's as if I never were a parent. It's weird to feel childless when you've made your whole identity about being a parent. But this is how it is now.

It's really like having a second adulthood. I can reinvent myself as the recruiter for the law school said. I'm not old enough to just give up the ghost. But somehow empty nest sounds like emptiness.

So onward and upward. Lyn. You can do it. You can reinvent your life with the help of the internet and modern technology. You can take care of the mess around here and swankify the place and lead an active meaningful postchild adult life.

I just burned two large envelopes of memorbilia. I'm starting to throw stuff out. I'm getting on with it.
I don't really know that I can do the school work, but I can't think of anything else to try. I've got to add some structure to my life that is also personally challenging. I think this might work.

Reno

It's always fun to go to Reno. I like to go to the Salvation Army where I found a hundred dollar watch for tweleve bucks! It keeps perfect time. And is LED. We also went to MasterCraft wood yard and Richard bought all the supplies necessary for a cabinet job he's doing.

He always feels a bit shy going to this huge lumber yard where he imagines hundreds of subdivision contractors loading up thousands of dollars of purchases. But when we get there the yard is dead empty. A cool cowboy helps Richard load up his small order.

Then comes time for Richard to tie down the load. Now this is not Richard's strong suit. As he says he never learned how to roll up a rope so that it just drops out perfectly in untangled loops. So anyway, he's trying to untangle his rope and the taciturn cowboy's smoking a cigarette and watching and Richard's feeling like, why don't you just go away, and then the guy comes over and helps him!

The cowboy swiftly untangles the rope and ties down the load like it were a bison in Wyoming. I mean that load was tied down tight. And Richard, he's so cool, he asks if the guy will take anything for his help, and the guy says sure, and Richard slips him a tenspot. And everyone is happy.

We really believe in tipping people. The guys from the interent company that climb your tree, the guy that stops to jump your car battery. Some people accept and some don't. It's all good. The only tangible ways to show love is with time and money. And since you can't give these people any of your time, it's money baby, money.

transition

If you change the word Career above to Life the slogan above would describe my Magnificent Life project. I decided to transition into a more fulfilling and exciting life by slowing down and waiting to see what happened.

And it didn't take long. Sixty days to be precise. And I was more or less signed up for law school. I'm having dreams about how I will understand the work. Which I think is a good sign given that I'm afraid that I may not.

I've reduce two more doses of my drugs to enhance my memory. And that seems to be going pretty well. I'm still getting good sleep.

So the big question becomes what do I do now for the next several months, all winter really, until I start school? I need to get into shape to consentrate on school work.

Tomorrow we go to Reno, so that takes up the immediate future. Then there is this big pile of paper I have stacked on the table. I could go through that. What I could do I is one little organizational thing a day to move toward being ready for school. Just one small thing a day. The way I write this blog.

Turtle steps and my life coach Katie says.

In the moment

This quote is soooo true. I'm tending to live in the future these days, thinking when Richard get done with this job then we can etc, etc, etc. I have a lot of projects I want to do to swankify my house and also to get ready for Law School. I've realised that I can't work in my bedroom office because it is too far from Richard and the flow of things. But the kitchen table won't do any longer either.

So I want to switch out the rug and the sofa in the living room and at the same time add a small desk which Richard will build to size that I will place in the middle of the room. I will clear the shelves and make room for my books and papers.

But see how this is living in the future?

What I need to do is be mindful of the present which is the lovely dusk of a lovely day. The sky is pink and purple like a painting. Richard is building a fire in the big room. The dryer is running. It is very cozy. Now the pink has faded from the sky leaving it a smokey lavender. Just that quick. That is living in the now.

The UPS guy just came to the door bringing Richard his sandpaper. The dogs barked briefly. The sky is an eggshell blue fading to gray. I won't think about the past and the people I've lost. The people I've loved and lost. I will think about how glad I am to have Richard here right now. The birds have stopped singing.

Being mindful of the now is kind of boring. But it is peaceful.

insider

As the olderst of eight kids, I think of myself as the  ultimate insider. And for a while this has been true. I helped most of the younger kids through school, set the example for what was cool. Moved to Quincy and lead the pack to Northern California.

But since I've been ill and not able to work, I've become an outlier.  It appears on the surface that I have no influence in the family anymore. And mostly I don't. And I don't want any. Who wants to know what old Aunty Lyn thinks anyway?

But on the other hand, I am the keeper of the history of things. I knew our Dad the longest and very well at the end. He had been having long phone calls with me for over a year during the time I was getting divorced. I got to be really close to him then.

I also knew Aunt Olive really well. I sat at her bed side when she was dying. She had a tremendous influence over my life. So much of who I am and what I believe comes from her. She had a shoebox full of rings just like I do!

And I keep track of the Richmond relatives. I write Aunt Beverly every week. So I have the sense of the larger picture. And maybe nobody wants to know this stuff. But I think it's important, and I believe at some point there maybe one of the younger generation who will want know about the past the way I did when I was young.

And if not? So what. It will die with me and no one will be the wiser. What I have to wrap my mind around is that people change. My family has changed. But I hold the core of it in my heart.

my hands

On Sunday evening, whether I feel good or not, I change my rings. I have hundreds of rings, and I like to wear them all from time to time. So I try to develop a theme and go with something new every time.

What is the point of all this you ask? Well everyone needs a passion, or a hobby. Something calming to while away the idle hours. I have a jewelry blog at lynsjewelryblog.blogspot.com where I write about my  love of jewels.

This week I want to wear my black diamond so I will try to make up a theme of other black rings, mostly of oynx and some gold bands. Some rings I like so well I always wear them. One is my signiture piece, a medalion with a stag's head on it.

It was made from a brass button that Richard gave me. I had it set in gold and it looks like an old coin. It's my favorite ring. My other two favorite rings are a bohemian turquoise ring with a lot of gold work in the setting and a large diamond cluster ring. I don't wear these all the time but if I had to choose three rings these would be them.

sad

Ok so maybe it's not that bad. But I've had a sad day. It's terrible to be in conflict with someone you love. And it's bound to happen. You just can't live perfectly in this world.

So how do you move on? All that can be said has been said. No one is going to change his or her mind. So the job is to just carry on,

I have to think of my future in a new light. Move on and don't have expectations that others can't fulfill. So that means I need to focus on law school even if, as one of my "friends" said, I'll be starting my career with a cane.

Gosh I don't think of myself as being that old. I mean the fifties are the new forties right? And my other good friend Adele says she thinks people like us need these very structured lives with specific short and long term goals.

So I'm going to devote myself to my new career and to doing the work that comes with it. And I have to remember that I have my own family, meaning Steven and Ash.

They don't need me now. But they will. And Richard needs me. He would be a wreak without me. So I need to focus on what's at hand and stop wishing that things were like they were in times past.

The world has changed. People are not the same as they once were. I have to accept their new identities and move on. Immutable mutability.

luck

It was Friday the Thirteenth. And as luck would have it our downstairs bathroom toilet and tub overflowed mightily. It was a yucky mess to say the least. I told Richard we'd been having so many nice days that something like this was bound to happen.

However as luck would have it, I had also just taken the second part of the online law school admissions test and had done pretty well. It lookes like I'd be going back to school.

As luck would also have it our former brother-in-law is a plumber. We called him and he diagnosed the problem over the phone and offer Richard some tools to borrow to fix the problem. Apparently we had a blockage right near the septic tank.

And as luck would  have it, with a nifty little tool known as a donkey dong the problem was resolved.

And as luck would have it I'll be doing some scrubbing in the near future.

So altogether it was a lucky day, more good than bad. Actually Friday the Thirteenths have been lucky for us Walters. Two of the sibling were born on them. The two redheads, Marty and Will.

So I'm all for luck. As for Richard, he says, "If life hands you lemons, throw them at someone!"

fall dinner

So we went to the Fall Benefit Turkey Dinner at the Methodist Church tonight. It was very crowded. The food was very good, actually. The tables were all manned by golden girls and their grandchildren, including my mom and my nephew, James.

James is a serious kid of almost 12, and he works very hard. I hardly ever get to see him even though he lives in the same town as I. Anyway it was great to see him tonight. We were sitting next to a nice family, a single mom and three girls. They were very well behaved. And serious too.

I wonder about these serious kids. They're too grown up. Seen too much divorce. Heartbreak or whatever.

Then there was a chatty Kathy whom I knew vaguely. She talked about herself from the moment she sat down till the moment we left. I happen to know her son is a narcissist as well. I used to work with him.

After the single mom left, no one was friendly around us. But we weren't very friendly either. I packed up most of my meal and took it home with me. I gave my  mom a hug. She seems so tiny and temporary to me somehow. What will I do without her?

When we left we saw the ticket seller was huddling out in the cold. He's 94 years old. It was dark. The church is losing members. It's membership is aging. Why are not all of us who come to eat not at worship on Sundays?

waking up

So like I read this book today while lacksadaisically studying for my law school test. I'm fascinated by these stories about people who "die" and wake up in heaven only to come back to earth as changed people. It seems to me to be a more and more documented phenomena.

People really seem transformed by these experiences. They walk the walk. It is akin to being struck down on the road to Damascus. Their lives become magnificent. They live more intuitively and less materialistically.

In the case of this woman here, she hears God tell her whom to tell her story to and it always turns out that it provides healing for the listener in some way. Her main message is the same as St. Paul's :
You are loved beyond measure by God. This is the message of all the mystics in one way or another.

So what if we were to really believe this? That we are the Divine's great beloved? What does that do to a person? One who has not seen the wounds in Christ's hands? Does it make one religion crazed?
Or can one really be ennobled?

I really want to know what radical self acceptance feels like. To know that everything is OK. Because it doesn't seem that OK to me really. I mean the politics, the wars, the climate, the wholesale distruction of everything.

My son believes in the body politic. That individuals can make a difference. I'm thinking of Law School in that light. So that maybe later in life I can work with him. As the possessor of a magnificent life unfolding into an activist... ? As a believer of God's great love can I enhance my impact on the people and issues I care about? God's love looks like a radical self love. Self love is the foundation of a magnificent life. The magnificent life is the basis of a person's true work in the world.
I'm trying to really get how this all works together.

Law school, again

So I was contacted by one of the recruiters from the Concord School of Law, the online law school. Now I know that going to lawschool online is far from ideal but it's the only way I can do it. So the first thing I have to so is take a two part entrance test. Well I've looked at part one and it's not easy. I'll have to study.

Well I visited my elderly friend Barb, and told her about the test and going to law school and she said I was in a perfect place to do it. I was free to study. Had a beautiful place to work. Was set up to work with my computer and already had lots of school experience. She was so encouraging. She said that when you're eighty, three years seem like a short time.

Well then my other friend called me wanting me to so some work for her. And I said I wasn't sure I could do it since I would be studying for a law school entrance exam. She then asked me if I were going to be the new so and so in town ( a very nice lady) and flunk the bar exam 18 times! I was totally stunned.

What is it about changing your life that brings out the worst in some people and the best in others? I guess some people feel threatened that you might not play the same role that you have in the past in their lives if you change what you're doing.

But wouldn't you like to have a badass lawyer for a friend better than a burned out community college teacher? I should think that the former would be of more help than the latter. Anyway I gotta go study for that test....

commitment

So I went to the doctor today about a backache I've been having that is really bothering me lately. The doc confirmed that it was because of my scoliosis that I was having the pain. I remember when I was a kid, the docs at Kaiser told me I had scoliosis and wanted me to wear a back brace. I refused and they told me. "You don't feel it now but you will in your fifties." Well so they were right.

I'm still glad I didn't have to wear a back brace. But the pain is a killer at times. Especially when I sit at the computer. Which I do a lot. So I can call the pain doc, Doc Flappen. Or I can try to strengthen my core and stretch which sounds a lot like yoga.

There is a lovely yoga teacher in town and when I took classes she charged $10 a class. I guess that's a fair price and with the savings I'm getting, what with giving up the evil Lady Diet Shasta, I can even afford it.

I just need to commit to the practice. This commitment is the same issue I have about going to church, mindfulness class, taking walks, writing, and all the other things that take commitment. Like cleaning and cooking. I'm just not very committed about anything.

I think this is a problem of our culture really. Or of people my age. The younger kids seem better at commitment. If my kids are any example. It is we children of the '70's that don't like to commit. And I really don't know why that is. I was committed to school. And am even looking into a 3rd degree program.

I just know that My magnificent life must rely on a commitment to something. I just haven't heard the call yet. But I'm eagerly waiting.

the prison artist

So like  I find it to be the ultimate irony that the economy in which the artist thrives the easiest is the prison economy. I just received a portrait of myself and my husband from my former student, current friend, Kyle who is in prison.

He had to pay for that gift somehow. The artist sells his skills for trade or commissary goods to those like Kyle who want to send a gift out. Or want to have something in their cell.

Richard tells me that in the old days, inmates used to make mop string sweaters, literally sweaters made of strings out of a new mops and they were sold as well. He told me that you could pay people in the taylor's shop to custom design your state uniform. He also said guys would make cool items of jewelry out of cigarette foiled backed paper pack that was used for freshness.

When I worked in the jail I received cardboard folded picture frames and one time a beautiful delicate rose made of toilet paper. You can't imagine how lovely this flower was. If someone had told me you could make something nice out of toilet paper, I wouldn't have believed it.

But in prisons and jails people have time and the imagination flowers. I've received beutifully drawn cards as well. And if a person can rap another inmate will hire him to write a poem for his sweetheart. Having an artistic talent is a distinct advantage in the joint.

It can make you valuable to enough people that not one group can dominate you or control you. Art is a means to freedom in prison.

One of the nicest days

I'm always saying I wish something good would happen. Well today was one of the nicest days in many small ways. It started out with my finishing two prairie girls dolls for my mom. Then I help Richard to hang a door. This was not your  normal door. It's a complicated panel door that requires being bolted on to some overhead rollers. And it's a big and heavy door of solid wood. But we worked together really well.

Then I drove Richard to town while still in my work clothes (unheard of for me) and we bought a picnic dinner from Sav Mor. On the way home we picked up this large envelop that contained the above artwork!

Our friend Kyle Pearson had it commisioned for us as a gift. It's a very flattering portrait of us from a photo a few years ago. I was so happy with it. To understand what a huge gift this is you have to understand that Kyle's in prison. And has been for 6 years. He really should be out, having no previous record. If he'd been in a big city he'd have gotten a couple of years tops. But instead he got 12!

He asked me for this pic 5 years ago. I'd totally forgotten giving it to him. So you can imagine my surprise when I openned this envelop up. What a treat. And to top it off my son called an told me my ex got fired from his swanky job. Which actually made me feel sort of bad before I decided you reap what you sow.

Richard and I spent the evening drinking bourbon and listening to Paul Rodgers singing R and B classics. This is my Magnificent Life!

post fireworks

These are my kids. They were key players in the election of progressive cadidate Aaron Peskin to Dsitrict 3 Supervisor's seat in San Fransisco. While the progressives lost all the other major races across the country, this race was the exception. My husband asked me how it felt to be the mother of a successful campaign staffer and strategist. And I said, "Pretty good."

I got a call from my son this morning and he told me all of the gossip and intrigue of the race. He was funny and nice. He told me he was starting back to work on Supervisor Jane Kim's State Senate bid next week. And though he felt sort of empty he was happy and not depressed.

But then he suddenly had to go and hung  up. This after telling me his dad had dropped by the office during the race and smoozed with the candidate. This is so typical of that bastard. I haven't met anyone. But his dad knows all the players!

Sometimes I feel like a mere asterisk in my son's life. When I talked this over with my mom she tells me not to feel too bad. Kids his age want to make a name for themselves. They don't want their mothers and dads hanging around. But I still feel bad.

Still I guess if you have to be estranged from your kids it's better if they are successful and not out on the streets. I thank God for that. So as regards my magnificent life it's got to be for me not my kids. They're making their own magnificent lives as they should be. That leaves me to my own. I'd better get back to it. The fireworks are over.

politics part 2

And so on Election Night it's all about the Candidate and yet.... From behind the scenes it's a lot about the campaign team. The candidate is just the figure head subject to the devotion or lack there of of  his staff.

So this man Aaron Peskin won the District 3 Supervisor Seat in San Fransisco, a race in which he was the underdog, in large part because of the labors of my son and his partner. My son was the staff member in charge of strategy and Ash was a precinct captain. They both worked their tails off to win this election.

And he won! He won! That's very empowering stuff for the staff. They know it wouldn't have happened without their contributions. The candidate doesn't just win a race on his own charisma. And it is an addictive game. My son starts another campaign just as soon as this one wraps up. He says he loves the stress.

The average time people spend in this type of work is two years. Steven wants to make a career out of it. This was his second race. I barely spoke to him for five months. Steven realizes he's really good at this kind of work. But I hope he moves on to be a candidate himself or a legislative aide. He used to say he wanted to be Mayor of San Fransisco. I endorse him. But I am his mom.

the greediness of writers

So like this is really hard for me to talk about. But writers are greedy. I have a friend whom I have been out of touch with for sometime. Well we finally connected and it turns out that there have been some pretty dramatic changes happening in his life.

Let me say that I have always found this friend interesting. He was really just sort of a kid when I met him as a student in one of my classes. But when the class was over we remained friends. He was the one who taught me to shoot a gun like a Marine.

Anyway we've been in touch off and on over the years and I liked him so much that he became a character in my play The Lahontan Monologues. In the mean time he's lived a real life. And become a very interesting grown up man.

So today he tells me his story which is fasinating and which includes him winning $9,000 worth of DeWalt tools for a short story he wrote, which as one of his former writing teachers, I'm totally thrilled about. Yes he was one of a handful of very talented  students I've been blessed with. I can name them on one hand. And I've lost touch with most of them.

But I totally fail as a human being. Instead of empathizing with the pain of the situation I'm jazzed by the sizzle. He's living life to the fullest the way my perception of him as a character leads me to think he should. I'm greedy for the story and inhuman about the life.

This makes me hate myself. As a writer I love the excitment of a life fully lived by a character. As a human I suck. And the terrible thing is I want to know what he's going to do next. I'm greedy for the novel!

politics

Since the beginning of June our son Steven has been working on getting this man elected to the San Fransisco Board of Supervisors in District 3. His name is Aaron Peskin. He has become a household character in our lives. First our son told us he was disappointed to be working for an "old white guy," having wanted a certain Chinese American woman in the Planning Department to run.

Well this old guy is younger than me! By several years! As time went on it began to be clear that this race was going to be the hotest thing in SF politics this year. Both sides were spending big bucks. The opponent was an old white Mormon Lady who was appointed by Chinese American Mayor Ed Lee to the position vacated midterm.

Her name is Julie Christensen. She is a flunky for big development. She has already spent 1 million dollars on her campaign. Pesky has spent $700,000. He's held the job before in the early 2000's. He's a progressive. WE like him. He's the underdog.

It's interesting. All my nephews are interested in politics. I have always encouraged this passion with Steven. We had a club called the SOS club when he was growing up. We would sit around the table with friends and Savage Our Society. When I was a reporter, I took Steven to all the Board of Supervisor meetings I went to as well as other public meetings in town.

Steven's partner Ashley is working on the campaign as well. She's even pictured in the campaign literature (bottom left). So tommow is the big day. We will learn the effectiveness of my son's strategy on this election. I'm praying to the old white guy upstairs for a victory for the old white guy in SF, District 3.

Sundays

So like on Sundays I usually read the news in some form, try to have a discussion of if with Richard. Then we watch our neighbor Dwayne work around his property. The guys runs the tightest ship on earth and is only here on the weekends so he really hustles. He kinda provides the weekend's entertainment for us since we can't see the neighbors on the other side and can only hear them when they're arguing.

Then I take an afternoon nap.

It's a pretty good way to spend the day of rest. I usually talk on the phone to friends and sisters. But I sort of miss some of the things that go with going to church. But just thinking about going back makes me itch all over. I had way tooooo much church at the front end of my life.

Like my mom was a Bible scholar and worked at the church and was the choir director. And I was in the youth group and the choir and worked at the summer day camp and the afterschool care. And I practiacally lived at the church. I had some really good friends at the church. This is true.

But then there was always the guilt. I always felt that what I was not doing was what God wanted me to do. And I'm afraid of that now. If I go back to the church I'll be asked to do things, and I won't want to do them and I'll feel church goers guilt. And that's what makes my skin itch.

The magnificent life idea is that you do things you love. Being forced into do-goodery at the church doesn't match my idea of something I love. Although if I could do a bible study at the jail and help save some of those inmates from the relentlessly faithful Jehovah Wittnesses, I might reconsider.

Plus Richard doesn't believe. He likes our Sundays the way they are. And that means a lot to me.
So I guess I'll steer clear for a while from do-gooder guilt. I hate peer pressure. I'm not a joiner.

grey hair

As in the day of Madame de Pompadour, gray hair is actually popular again. Unfortunately mine is natural. And way too whispy. This from the girl that used to have "all that hair." You know a man told me once that when women enter their 50's they go through and  ugly period which they come out of in their 60's. I wanted to bop him at the time. But now that I'm there I feel it's true. There's nothing  I can do to look good.

I've gained weight. My hair has fallen out. This is menopause. And it's really hard on the ol' body. I don't know if my hair will ever come back. And since quitting the Dark Lady Diet Shasta I'm only more hungry. So the weight issue is still an issue.

I told my friend Elyce that we were brought up way too concerned about how we looked. And she agreed. But not with the enthusiam I would have liked. I feel absolutely burdened by expectations about my looks, and I just think, doesn't who I am matter a whole lot more?

I hate leaving the house looking the way I do because I hate giving in to being an ordinary middle aged woman. How vain is that? But I've always been extraordinary and being ordinary is hard for me. I just struggle with it. Why at this point in life am I doomed to be ordinary?

These feeling are not at all in harmony with the "My Magnificent Life" theme. So I keep hoping this is temporary. I keep thinking my hair is really growing back in, all evidence to the contrary. I tell myself I'll lose weight while I snack on pecans. And I take webinars on how to draw on the perfect eyebrows....