Category: The DayBook

Everything has gone off with out a hitch. We had a nice lunch of roast beef and good bread.

I am tired and hoping for a good sleep tonight.

When you drive to the cruise ship, packing light isn’t really required. At first, I was stuffing everything into my backpack, then I realized I didn’t need to. So out came the “big” suitcase with wheels. If we head north—and if I manage not to spill my drink down my shirt—I might not even have to wash clothes out in the shower.

I’m leaving the computer behind this time. I need a little downtime. Books will be read, bats will be folded, and naps will be taken.

Now I wonder—if we do make it to Canada, will they even let us in? Especially after yesterday’s embarrassing show at the UN. He is a sick, old, demented man. It’s only a matter of time. Nobody is promised tomorrow. Not even presidents.

Looked up from my computer and there was a rainbow. Earlier, on my morning walk, I saw an eagle overhead. No picture. But a rainbow and an eagle in the same day? That more than makes up for missing the Rapture—again. Last time I remember missing it was May 21, 2011.

Still feeling underpowered. Never been old before, so how the hell am I supposed to know how it feels? Am I over-exercised? Under-exercised? How would I even know?

And, no surprise, I’ve done almost nothing to get ready for the trip. Dug out my passport, backpack, credit card, and some Canadian cash. I’ll probably fill the backpack tomorrow. Thursday morning, I’m out the door.

Unless, of course, the Rapture shows up tomorrow. Could just be a celestial timezone problem.

That’s six big wreaths and two little ones. Done. Finis. Pau.

I still owe a flower-arranging friend some bats. I made her a flock about four years ago, and she needs reinforcements for Asylum Halloween flower arrangements. No problem. I’ll take some “bat paper” and a cutter on the boat and fold a few along the way.

The Origami Dojo is also back in order. When I return from (hopefully) Canada, all that will be left is deciding how to price our Origami Garage Sale stash. More “going-out-of-business” than “craft show,” but that’s fine. I’ll crank out some signage on the computer, and we’ll call it done. After five summers of big origami projects, we’re officially retiring.

Time now for a little trip planning. But honestly, what’s to plan?

Decided to water the orchids and declare a day of rest. But…

About three hours ago, I sprang into action and did some origami. Now I’ve got six twelve-inch wreaths ready to price and sell. Even made a tiny wreath out of scraps — and I’ve got enough scraps for another if the spirit moves me. All of this between now and Thursday, when I leave for my cruise.

I must do something about this mess. My coffee table has become a wreath storage depot. Serious putting-away is required before bedtime tonight

Feeling absolutely antique today. No amount of coffee has perked me up.

Being old is uncharted territory — for me, for everyone. You only get one chance to get old, and I don’t want to screw it up. And not everyone gets to be old. So, there’s that gratitude thing.

About a month ago, I wasn’t getting anything done. So I had a talk with myself: Do the basics every day. Get up, clean up, make the bed, walk one mile. Period. Beyond that, I have to do three things. Either finish them or give them a set amount of time. They don’t need to be big or important, but something has to be done. Doomscrolling doesn’t count.

Today’s three things: laundry, getting the bat wreath 90% finished, and dinner at the Asylum’s “fancy” venue. None of these would be a big deal at sixty-something. But today, for me, they were enough. More than enough.

I can feel myself slowing down. It would be easy to just surrender to the inevitable. But I’m still determined to wear out, not rust out.

Oops — time to get ready for #3 on the list: dinner.

What’s left is gluing the bats down. I’d like to have one dangling, but I’m not sure it would hold. Not that losing a bat would be any kind of problem. The whole idea is to use up “stuff” and maybe make a few bucks for the Asylum Foundation.

Meanwhile, I’m waiting to see what this weekend’s funeral for Citizen CK will bring. The largest Klan rally in history? A replay of Nuremberg, 1935? Or will it end like Altamont?

Hope for the best. Plan for the worst.

It’s a fine day weather-wise. But the universe is out of kilter. I should be in the street getting into good trouble. Instead, I seem to be rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

A week from today, we leave on our cruise to Canada. Last year we left on our cruise to Canada and ended up in the Bahamas. I assumed this year’s trip was to the same places last year’s was supposed to go. Wrong. Portland, Maine,  home of L.L. Bean,  is off the schedule.

So I asked my good buddy, ChatGPT, to draw me a map of the trip.

Halifax disappeared from that map. Maybe I’ll tell ChatGPT it forgot Halifax. Or… just maybe… ChatGPT knows more than I do about my cruise.

“Updated” the MacBook to Tahoe today. I would normally wait for a couple of updates before jumping in. But it was a rainy day, so why not.

Tahoe would probably be more interesting if I had an iPhone instead of an Android. Years ago, I decided not to be 100% dependent on either Apple or Google. So I ended up with Macs and iPads on one side, and Google’s phone (and later, watch) on the other. It seemed sensible back then. Silly now, maybe — but I’m not giving up my Pixel phone or my “grandmothered-in” fantastic cell contract.

The iPad update to iOS 26 was absolutely worth it just to be rid of Split View/Slide Over. Other than a lot of rounded corners, Tahoe looks pretty much the same as Sequoia. Especially when you don’t have an iPhone in the mix.

And with that, I will now return to my boring little old lady life.

A good old-woman day. Started with a personal best on my morning mile around the grounds: 17 minutes and 2 seconds. Later, I Ubered up to the hospital for in-person yoga.

Gratitude

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Extremely grateful that my body is holding up as well as it has. It’s not like I take very good care of it, and I don’t think I was dealt especially good genes. So far, just lucky, I guess.

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A nice rainy afternoon spent culling and cataloging photos from July.

Meanwhile, my iPad updated itself to iOS 26. Everything seems to work. I’m glad Apple killed Split View/Slide Over. Not so sure about this new Liquid Glass “feature.”

When it opens, it will look like a daisy. The Alutiiq people used it medicinally — crushed roots for boils, and even heated stems as “switches” for arthritis and bone pain. I’ll stick with Aleve.

The sun runs and hides around the side of the building for about 3 months in winter. I didn’t know that happened until Covid happened, and I spent all winter in The Old Bat’s Cave. For some of those months, the sun never makes it in my windows. I hate it. I feel like some primitive cave woman, rejoicing when the sun once again enters my den. 

The watch nagged me to get more aerobic exercise than I consider reasonable. But, just in case, it is right about the amount of aerobic exercise I need, I walk one mile briskly to the grocery and back less briskly for sure but with a backpack of groceries. I consider it practice for Hawai’i. The nearest grocery will be .6 miles away from this winter’s lodgings. There is a mediocre farm market very near by however. 

The last wreath is supposed to be bats. At least, I’m folding bats right now. But I could always make black cranes and keep the theme going. Bats are easier — and frankly, I’m tired of the whole project.

At the risk of losing my Social Security, I do have something to say about Chas. Kirk — in addition to RIP.

“Tunc ait illi Jesus: Converte gladium tuum in locum suum: omnes enim, qui acceperint gladium, gladio peribunt.” (Matthew 26:52)

That should keep my Social Security safe. (It’s not like I can be fired from my job as an ancient old woman.)

We do live in interesting times. I don’t like it. But this is what the voters voted for. And I’ve almost come to accept that I’m too old to do anything about the current situation. The path forward belongs to those who will have to live with the consequences.

The week begins. The week ends. Time moves on, whether we like it or not.