Author: Peg

I was hijacked into getting married. I was the Ninja Bride. Carlton was just smug — because he tricked me into getting married. From that day forth, Carlton referred to me as “my current wife.” Well, I am now “his last wife.”

Our wedding was really just an administrative nicety. It made things much easier later, when the time came to change joint accounts into individual ones.

The real importance of today is this: January 5, 1973, was Carlton’s AA sobriety date. And AA made everything possible.

I haven’t posted one of Carlton’s AA talks in a long time. This one is from October 2004, and it was among the last talks he gave. He wanted to stop speaking while he was still at the top of his game.

It’s an hour long. I’m going to listen to it. You can pass. I’ll never know.

AA gave me the man I married and all the years we had together. Thank you. Bill Wilson, Doctor Bob, Cliff Kendall, Dr. Earl Mitchell, Buck Doyle. 

OK. Things are looking up. We haven’t invaded Greenland—yet. The sun looks like it might make an appearance today. And it’s finally Sunday. I’ve been thinking every day was Sunday so far this year.

And since today really is Sunday, it was time to show the orchids some love. There were twelve: three blooming, three with buds, four just growing leaves, and two on life support.

Now there are ten.

One of the departed was an orphan I acquired in October 2024. It was never quite well, though it did bloom once. The other had an acquisition date of January 1, 2021, which means it was a New Year’s offering from Asylum Management during COVID. It’s been in declining health for at least a year.

Thanks for all the blossoms.

I know it’s wrong, but Thornton is me.

Not only is it still winter, but overnight my country appears to have attacked Venezuela and kidnapped its President and First Lady. We have done such things in the past. Panama, Grenada, and long ago the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi come to mind. And there is always Vietnam. But this feels particularly egregious.

I hope the UN or someone kicks our sorry ass. So bring me up on charges of treason. I am an old woman. Bring it on.

On a more cheerful note: Majuro, Marshall Islands. Stop #1 on my little adventure last month.

Majuro has a population of about 24,000 and is the capital of the Marshall Islands. It is a large coral atoll made up of 64 islands in the Pacific Ocean, virtually on the Equator. The atoll has a land area of just 3.7 square miles and encloses a lagoon of 114 square miles. It has a tropical trade-wind climate, with an average temperature of about 81°F.

And yes. That’s the grounds crew waving goodbye. 

A flight like none other.

I am not a fan of winter.

But, on Jan 24th, friend Christie and I will be cruising down to the Eastern Caribbean. For 12 days.

Gratitude

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I am just about the luckiest old woman on the planet.

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Made it outside for a small walk this morning. And got some computer stuff set up for next year. Every year, I forget how to set up my Lightroom Folders panel the way I like it for the new year. It’s fairly presumptuous of me to think that I’ll be setting up my folders in Lightroom next year. But, just in case I am still around and am still trying to get my LR Folders tidy:

LR folders: Right-click date folder → Show Parent Folder

While I ate breakfast this morning, my sheets were changed, the bathroom was cleaned, new towels appeared, and my kitchen was tidied up. A friend at breakfast pointed out that my Airbnb in Hawai’i was real “independent living”. The Asylum is pretend “independent living”.

Not much snow. But snow. Snow that was driven by howling winds up to the edges of the parking lot.

I have been back at The Asylum a week and haven’t ventured out on foot until this morning, when I got all bundled up and went to get bagels for the family. The Asylum has New Year’s Day Brunch. And it is quite acceptable. Unless you like bagels. They do not serve bagels. They serve hockey pucks.

Silly Peg lived here for 10 years and complained loudly about the bagels. Finally, I stopped complaining and started BYOB — Bring Your Own Bagel. So, on Family Brunch Days, I get the bagels. 

BYOB is Accept and Adapt in action. Accept and Adapt is my affirmation for 2026.

After Brunch. I napped. Then I napped some more. 

This is how Carlton brought in every New Year. The man was a real party animal.

Gratitude

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Grateful for wonderful friends. Everywhere. 

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Three years ago today I fired up ChatGPT for the first time. I declared it Scary Good at the time.

So the obvious question is: is there some new “next thing” I should be exploring next year? This is a serious question. Guess I should ask ChatGPT.

My 2025 theme was Accept and Adapt. It served me well. And that’s exactly how I plan to approach 2026.

Carlton didn’t do Christmas, Valentine’s Day, or birthdays. But he did remember anniversaries. December 30 is the day he considered our anniversary. This makes it year 47.

We had a great run. And I’m still doing pretty well running along on my own. For that: thank you, Carlton.

He’s still part of my life. I do things like contest a $1.63 incorrect charge on my Asylum bill because he would absolutely expect me to. AA is still part of my life too. I don’t go to meetings anymore, but the principles are stuck in my head. Every time I see a penny on the ground, I have to pick it up. I figure he put it there to test me. Of course, pennies are becoming extinct. I may have to start picking up nickels. Inflation.

Here’s something else that remains true: I made Carlton’s life way more interesting. He had a very limited comfort zone, and I kicked him right out of it—big time. In return, he provided me with a degree of safety and security I would never have provided for myself. That comfort zone of his, which I did have to honor to some degree, continues to put boundaries around my own excesses.

We were a good team.

Still are.

A hui hou.

Nothing to report today. I did not go anywhere interesting, meet anyone famous, or solve any problems of global importance. I remained upright, fed, and reasonably content. That counts.

It’s time to start wrangling all my trip photos.

Spent the morning showing the orchids some love. Spent the afternoon in my comfy chair with the heating pad. I haven’t stepped outside the Asylum since my return. I should probably fix that soon.

The LastTripMaybe After Action Report.

1. 1. If my health holds up, this was not my last trip. When I started out, I wasn’t sure. “Safe” things like cruises or Amtrak journeys don’t count as trips. They are vacations.
   2. I can only do one activity per day.
   3. I can still negotiate Tokyo public transit. 
   4. Even large airports remain doable.
   5. When they say, “Now boarding passengers who need extra time,” that means me.
      Deploy the cane and get on first. No more waiting for “Now boarding Group 7.”
   6. This might be the last trip with my computer and without wheeled luggage. 
   7. I still enjoy traveling alone. 
      But, I would not want to spend 6 weeks in Kona if I didn’t have dear friends there. 
   8. Tokyo in August almost killed me.
      Tokyo in late December was doable.
      Takeaway: Avoid hot weather. This is not negotiable.
   9. I still only need 3 pairs of underdrawers. 
   10. Don’t hesitate to play the old card. (See #5).

Still not functioning perfectly well. Actually, I doubt that I’ll ever function perfectly well again. So let us say that I am not functioning up to expectations. Yet. 

Haven’t gone for an outside walk yet. And I should do an hour of yoga. But I did get the laundry done.

For the record, the trip was 17,692 miles total, with the trip from Japan to Dulles Airport being 6,782 miles.

Progress report: Unpacked. Most things put away. Laundry not yet. Mail not opened. Junk mail tossed unopened. I don’t think I damaged anything. Yet. That’s about it.

I had my backpack and jackets and didn’t feel like chasing one down. Not sure I’d be brave enough to get into one anyway—assuming I could catch it.

According to the weather report, it snowed here this morning.
I didn’t see any snow.
I don’t need to see any snow.

Easy trip back to The Asylum. Slept well on the 12-hour flight. Metro and Uber home—no problem. And one good thing about The Asylum: you can be gone for 60 days, and when you return, you know everything will be fine.

It was a great trip. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Oh yeah, Merry Christmas!