Saturday November 28
Spent the morning reading C.S. Lewis memoir on grief over the lost of his wife. He endures this process with minute observations of his own suffering and questions of faith. You want to cheer for his faith. You want to have it endure at the end but, of course, sensibly. I should be using my diary like that--filing it with amazing insights on living with and dying from cancer--but I just seem pretentious. So I write about streaming and food. Ah well. Salvation enough for me.
Worked on Recovery Kitchen posts.
Watched Shadowlands about C.S. Lewis’ marriage, his wife's cancer, and his grief over her loss. It reflected the book pretty well. Hopkins was great but Debra Winger's unconvincing New York Jewish accent was distracting.
Dave came by. Janet hasn’t had a full scan lately, just the brain MRI.
In the afternoon watched the final episode in the latest British Baking Show season. This is probably my last season of one of my favorite shows, but I can't emotionally connect with the concept of last things. I'm not denying it necessarily. The odds are I won't make it beyond this year, but I don't care that much about missing another season of a show I like. I guess that's a sign of some kind of maturity. Later I talked to Michael about splitting my IRA among the five kids, which looks pretty straightforward. All I have to do is change my beneficiary. The are my peak life events so far -- birth, sex, and childbirth – are transcendent but still rest on fundamentals of the ordinary. I'm counting on death being similar.
Jeremy sent me a picture of his scalp, which has a rash, probably a heat rash, which he's had before.
Watched West Wing.
Sunday November 29
Spent the morning reading Northanger Abbey. Much broader humor than other Jane books but really fun.
Willie and I watched two clever and elegant documentaries by John Wilson, mostly centered on New York.
Michael went out to deal with the tractor and fell flat on his face, with his nose taking the brunt of it. All scraped up but nothing broken.
Took Willie to the train. Always sad to see him go.
Michael off to help Dave saw some plywood.
I had raised the issue the other night with Michael the other night of distributing my IRA among all the kids after I died. Michael Googled the IRA rules and said that I only needed to switch the beneficiaries. It’s probably the romantic influence of CS Lewis’s grief over his wife, but I was a bit disheartened by Michael’s dispassion and distance from the probability of my death. But what do I want? Do I want him to be weepy and sad? No, but the occasional vulnerability to my loss would make me feel more than just sand washed away by the ocean.
Probably with this in mind, I emailed Joe. I had asked Michael if he minded and he said he didn’t. Mary died November 8 and Joe has been alone since. His kids live in Canada and California. I’m going to stay in touch with him although I’m uncertain whether this is a good thing to do. I have not present relationship with him. I don't even know him very well. And I have terminal cancer, which may just remind him of his own loss. I don’t know.
Watched Mandelorian and Queen's Gambit after an inadequate ham and stuffing dinner.
Monday November 30
Finished Northanger Abbey in the morning. Not her best but lovable.
Watching Cuomo’s presser, in which he is describing the strategy for the holiday season surge. Not optimistic. Everyone is so tired of not seeing people.
Exchanged emails with Joe with pictures of his great grandchild and pictures of our house. He wrote that he had followed the progression of our house, probably on FB where I’m totally public. He has also located our house on Google earth. So I decided to see what his house looked like. Bland development on a cul de sac on the outskirts of Princeton. I was disappointed, although he sent me a video of a flock of sheep wandering along the back yards, which is somewhat redemptive. In the end Joe was pretty conventional. He stepped out a bit during pixel and our affair, but both were emotional anomalies and he was unable to follow through with either. I'm glad about us though. We did enough harm as it was. And I did far better over time than I deserved.
Wrestled with RK posts, trying to make them look good on the website, but the blogging application is clunky.
Reading more C.S. Lewis, whose thoughts on Christianity are compelling until I get to immortality, a belief I can't cross, particularly that it's key for a moral structure. I hope that the underlying Good that I've experienced during some meditations will be sustaining to the end. The practice of loving kindness, which I found initially repellant, is creating strong connections with both individuals and with broader segments of being.
Had a conversation with Sandy Moore, from whom I’ve been hiding for months, mostly because her paintings of white men disemboweling blacks are so disturbing. As it turned out we had a pleasant conversation. She’s working on a new series on the development of a child. “That sounds jollier than the disemboweling paintings,” I said. Pause. “Well they aren’t altogether jolly.” Sandy described her vision as staring into the void. She has a Buddhist friend who shares this long dark view, but, unlike Sandy, she sees chinks of light within it.
Whipped together a ham and rice casserole for dinner, using up nearly all the Thanksgiving weekend leftovers.
Watched the end of Undoing, which was a bit lazy but satisfying, and then more Queens Gambit.
Tuesday December 1
Willie, Jill, Richard S, and I have been contributing cat puns for three days. Started with just dictators but the categories (yes intended) have expanded to nearly every prominent purrson. It’s like a fever dream.
Finished the Recovery Kitchen posts thanking the groups of volunteers who have been so helpful.
Have been watching Jack Kornfield's meditation workshops. One was a session on mindful walking, which I’ve practiced twice. It’s hard to experience the meditation part. I don't entirely understand how to do it, but worth continuing for no other reason than it makes me walk for fifteen minutes.
Read some of my old poems.
Made a successful chicken parm. Watched last episode of Queen's Gambit and first of the new season of The Repair Shop. Not a day of enormous accomplishments
Wednesday December 2
Watched the final Jack Kornfield session on loving kindness. It’s been very effective in coalescing my various eclectic practices; the three way prayer of my childhood, UPOK, Krishnamurti, yoga, mass, and my communion with Dorothy, Practicing loving kindness this week links all of these other beliefs together, like a river running through little hobbit towns of comfort and affection.
Had a two-hour hour Recovery Zoom meeting with Pam, Carole, and Jamie. One new issue emerged; there appear to be many households in need that remain unidentified by social services, schools, and other resources that we use for developing meal lists. One driver reported a client's complaint of a neighbor who was stealing his meals off the porch. Solution: feed the neighbor. Another driver was leaving a dinner at a client's house when the person next door ran over and asked if he could have a meal. In both neighbors were added to our list, but how many others in the county need food and aren’t listed. In addition the Sanctuary people are stopping our meal delivery to the immigrants on their list. Not sure why. The Department of Social Services may also not have the budget for meals to all the motels that house the homeless other than the original ones we now serve. Pam or Carole is going to tell the commissioner that we'll feed all the motel homeless, and they can just pay us up to their own budgetary limit.
In late afternoon I streamed a Repair Shop and an episode of the Swedish drama The Restaurant, which I'm sure Michael isn't interested in.
Made stuffed squash for dinner and then we watched Misfits and West Wing together.
Thursday December 3
Was supposed to get my PET scan today but Jennifer, Dr. Luyun's assistant called while we were on our way to St. Peters and said that my insurance company wouldn't authorize a PET. So we turned around. I'm not insured for more than three PET scans a year, but they will pay for the cheaper CT scan, which shows tumor shapes but they don’t “light up” to indicate active metabolism as they do with the PET. Bumps that show up the CT scan aren’t necessarily malignant. The scan was supposed to show whether the first three chemo cycles were working, but it will be difficult to compare tumor sizes using a CT scan versus the previous PET. I had my next chemo scheduled for next week. Now not sure what’s happening.
Went out and picked the last of the Brussels sprouts: the energizer bunny of vegetables. A few are still crowding together at the top of the stalks but its cold and hard to pick them out.
Had my usual rancorous call from Jim Dolan. He thinks it's funny to goad me with Trumpisms, but they give me a headache. It’s nearly as aggravating to talk about his health. He’s obese. He has a terrible fatty-meat loaded diet and he rarely budges from his couch. The doctors continually test him for heart problems, and he just comes up with high cholesterol that's well controlled by a statin.
Took a walk down to the pond, where the water level is now normal. Wish it had been that way this summer. Rocked in the swing and watched late autumn drift off.
Dave dropped by for car talk with Michael.
Watched the Repair Shop and Restaurant before dinner. Made hot dogs and afterward watched The Morning Show with Jennifer Aniston being Jennifer Aniston.
Friday December 4
Worked on RK lists, and then Michael and I took a ride up route 23 into the Catskills just to get out of the house and to get that long view North. Jill Wishon lives in a house perched up a steep bank along the road and can sit on her deck and watch lightening storms trawl all the way up to Albany.
Poor Jeanine hit some concrete block and scraped the side of her car. After insurance she’ll have to pay $500. Her weekly disaster.
So Jennifer called again from Dr. Luyun's office. Insurance will indeed only cover a CT scan, but it’s probably ok. I only want to know if the chemo is working, which the CT should indicate. And, in any case, I'm now scheduled for the next chemo round in early January, even without the scan results. This gives me a nice non-toxic block of time for the holidays.
Talked to Patty, who is on her way to Florida for the winter horse shows in Wellington. Her business has been good with Covid because horse riding is about the only safe sport for rich kids. She’s also made a deal with a dollar company to cover her huge roof with solar panels, which will feed 40 homes with electricity. She’s using about 30% for her own place, which will supply all her electric needs.
Jeremy has been sending me baby Yoda pictures, which I told him I wanted to replace all the depressing anti-Trump gifs that he sent before.
I’ve been wrestling with roasting a chicken. I set the oven for 500 degrees and put a cast iron skillet in. When the oven reaches 500 I put the chicken into the hot skillet along with potatoes and Brussels sprouts for half hour. Then I turn the oven off with the door closed for another half hour. Sometimes it works but other times the chicken is still rare (ick) at the end (which it was last night), and I have to throw it back in at 300 and hope we can eat before midnight and that it isn’t dry as dust. (We did and it wasn’t. Everything was tasty, but still a chaotic and uncertain end to a process that I always hope will be easy.
Watched more Morning Show, then Restaurant after Michael went to bed
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