October 31-November 6. Neo-Carol Lunch, Chemo, and Election

 Saturday October 31

Richard, Carol, Rebecca, and her boyfriend Jesse are staying at a dreary hotel in Woodstock. (In order to avoid confusion, Richard refers to me as Paleo-Carol and his second wife as Neo-Carol.) They planned to pick up lunch in Hudson and bring it over, but Carol texted Willie to say that Richard has a cough and sore throat. She, Rebecca, and Jessie would buy lunch in Hudson and drop it off, but wouldn’t stay. When they arrived, however, it just seemed wrong that they wouldn’t come in and eat lunch with us, so they did and it was very pleasant. Covid is spreading from small group gatherings of family and friends. Oh well. If Richard tests positive, then we’ll just have to deal with it.

 

Willie and I did some Cloudpunk gaming after they left.

 

I watched the Zen Jesus series but it’s so tedious I have to stop.

 

I roasted a beast, which Michael and I ate but Willie was on a three-hour call with Shannon, a single mom and latest online candidate.

 

Sunday November 1

Did Cloudpunk with Willie until time to take him to train at two thirty. Rainy day.

Am reading Sense and Sensibility all day. Soothing Jane. 

Made biscuit topping for shepherd pie. 

Watched Schitt's Creek. 

 

Monday November 2

Went to Albany for Dr. Luyun appointment. Scheduled my next chemo for early December. The PET scan will be scheduled sometime before that and I asked what would happen if the chemo wasn’t working. The only option is the terrible 5F-U and another platinum agent. I think that would be it for me. He then launched into one of his incomprehensible monologues about his problems at work. This one involves him coming in yesterday and discovering either missing labs or looking at the wrong report from someone with the same name as his patient. Dr. Luyun asked if I voted yet and I asked if he had. He exclaimed, slightly irritated. “Yes! I did yesterday!” As if within the tangled web of missing labs he had already told me. 

 

Bought sandwiches from Cascades for late lunch with Harris and Neville, who came by about three. Really nice to see them and get news on the house progress. The garage is the problem. They have to wait some weeks for the new roof and solar panels before they get electricity. This has delayed getting on with their work and Harris seemed discouraged.

 

Made puttanesca sauce for pasta and ate it fairly late, but figured I needed food for chemo tomorrow.

 

Watched HBO Undoing and some Schitt's Creek.

 

Tuesday November 3

Liz drove me to chemo today. It was nice having a chance to talk by ourselves. We are mostly with our friends, either at their house or ours. Dozed through the infusion after Benadryl hit. 

 

Stopped to vote on the way home. No lines so I'm glad we waited till Election Day. Brenda the Republican inspector with whom we had worked with collegially for the years was there. Smart and tough. Was happy to see her and nostalgic about the inspector work. The day is long (5 am to 10 pm) and we eat bad pizza, but everyone in our part of rural Greenport comes in to vote. It strengthens the appreciate of the Democratic process, where the polar divide is warmed up by the generations behind the residents whose mixed political views have anchored the present. And to be truthful often the Republicans are far more agreeable than our cantankerous Democrats. Just don't bring up Trump

 

I made green chili chicken and rice casserole and processed collards in anticipation of election night and upcoming chemo effects. 

 

We started biting our nails during uncertain election results and I seriously considered baking cookies. But went to bed at eleven when it was apparent that final numbers were days away. I woke up every hour though and checked the progress to be sure Trump hadn't claimed victory as he did in 2016.

 

Wednesday November 4

Wanted to get to grocery store this morning while side effects haven’t kicked in. (they usually hit after the Neulasta kicks, which is in the afternoon after the infusion). However this morning I was treated to hideous diarrhea as soon as I woke up so ended my hope off getting to the store. 

 

Obsessing on news. My political journey through my 77 years as an American has never been a sentimental one. It's always a rocky road. McCarthy in the fifties (at eleven, I detested him as he shouted in black and white TV), Vietnam (the darkest experience), all those terrible assassinations, the Reagan years, and then Iraq. But there were also changes in civil rights and Dorothy Day, Obama and Ruth Bader, and the biracial Black Lives Matter marches. The few Tumpsters I personally know aren’t evil just hideously misguided by the lies perpetrated by Fox and Friends that the Democrats are going to turn America into a commie state. It’s a crazy country but never dull. Racism and public corporations with their legal responsibilities only to shareholders and profits are the evil twins in our country. 

 

Sunny day with temperatures reaching sixty, with warm days predicted for the rest of the week, unfortunately at peak chemo flattening ugh. 

 

Sewed a hole in my sweater with my usual disabled needle skills. Looks bunchy but the holes are gone. 

 

Walked down to the Pond, which looks like it grew about a foot after last week's rain. So pretty. Now sitting on this wonderful weathered swing, meditating and watching flocks of birds collect on the trees and fly south over my head in the hundreds. Their breasts flash orange but I don’t think they’re robins. Maybe Orioles. So beautiful. Now a hawk has come around swooping and screeching around the trees where the birds had gathered, hunting them I suppose. But with no luck. One small flock of birds actually returned from their migratory flight and chased him off. Now he’s He back screeching and flapping. Don’t know what he’s up to.

 

Dave came by later, anxious about the election. Michael is far more optimistic.

 

Thursday November 5

Explosive horrible diarrhea this morning and horrible leaky diarrhea during the night. Wearing diapers again. Totally wiped out for most of the day. Revived a bit in the afternoon, continue reading Persuasion and streamed Sense and Sensibility. Why does Jane bring comfort after 200 years?

 

Forced myself to stay awake until ten listening and browsing election results, with Michael announcing every new batch of results from Georgia and Pennsylvania. 

 

So that's this day.

 

Friday November 6

Feeling a little better today but still in wash out mode.

 

While Jeanine and Michael are pouncing on election results I hobbled out to the swing where I’m sitting in this beautiful Indian summer weather. Difficult to walk, but must make the effort.

 

Took a nap. Watched Persuasion in the afternoon. Maybe I've had enough Jane for now. 

 

Had no appetite for dinner but heated up Kim’s orzo with extra tomatoes sauce and cheese for Michael. 

 

Willie called to report on his date with Shannon, the single mother. He went to Astoria to her apartment where he met her neighbor. He, Shannon and the baby went to a local bar and had a drink outside but she was distracted, worried about the child's father against whom she had a restraining order. They went back to the apartment where the neighbor joined them for Thai food. I appreciate her caution. When I was a single mother, II had a couple irresponsible blind dates and let a couple strangers into my house. In my defense, I had Harris on call for the second one, who came up after I phoned and hung out until the unfortunate date left. 

 

Sarah called but it was wearing to listen to the rants tonight. I was very tired but made myself stay up for ongoing presidential counts and intermittent Schitt's Creek. Election still not called. 

 

Geoff and Kim showed up at eleven. Talked briefly to them about kids and election and then went to bed.

October 24-30. Flu Shot, Ann and Stuart, First Big Snow

 Saturday October 24

Made vegan olive oil cake this morning, which I think will turn out ok.

 

Watched one of Gabe’s YouTube tutorials on machine learning using Michelin datasets.  Was able to get some kind of conceptual idea.

 

Took the kids to Le Gamin and talked about psilocybin, triggered by emails with Jill concerning her experience with it and Michael Palin’s book.  Gabriel has taken it four times and describes it as a deep spiritual experience, although preceded by visions of anything that terrified him. I don’t know if I’d have the nerve for it.  I’ll be tossed into the abyss soon enough. 

 

Stuffed butternut squash with sausage (chicken for us and vegan sausage for the kids) and made vegan maple walnut ice cream with oat milk-not bad).

 

Watched Babette’s Feast. My favorite movie of all time. It plays like a poem. Every viewing brings deeper meaning,

 

Sunday October 25

 Cold today. Picked Brussels sprouts and collards and sent some home with Gabriel and Ayesha. Really nice to have them here. 

 

Feeling depressed today after they left. Winter is coming.

 

Got our flu shots, which is a relief.

 

Watched next great British baking show episode. Cheery.

 

Reheated stuffed squash for dinner.

 

Monday October 26

Slept late and then processed and froze the collards, broccoli, and Brussels sprouts.

 

Pissy rain without much accumulation,

 

Worked on RK lists and made a meat loaf.

 

Reading a good Christopher Buckley book, The Relic Master.

 

Watched The Undoing, HBO series with Nicole Kidman and Hugh grant. Looks good. 

 

Up in the middle of the night with leg burning, sat/slept in the bathtub for three hours.

 

Tuesday October 26

Worked on RK appeal letter. Carole and David Draper dealing with her dying friend who believes he’s not dying, but they got him to the hospital last night after terrible chest pains that turned out to be a blood clot. 

 

Jim Dolan came by with pasta soup. Managed not to get me riled up with Fox-based Biden attacks. Michael parried most of them and then the conversation switched to easier topics - local Democrat gossip, his lawsuit against the Board of Election, his family, and his stress test. He is very kind to me and thoughtful in bringing food. He personifies the good and the irritating in upstate culture. 

 

I canceled lunch with Harris and Neville tomorrow because I’m so wiped. It’s the third week post chemo and I’m supposed to feel normal but not. Maybe flu shot response.

 

Have started a new series: Adyashanti’s Resurrecting Jesus. He’s a Zen Buddhist who has assimilated Christianity into his practice through the teachings of early mystics. I’ll be interested in how that works. Dozed off during the introduction so that’s not promising. Took a nap. 

 

Michael off to Greenport planning board meeting. 

 

Finished relic masters. Went to bed and had s long sleep.

 

Wednesday October 27

 

Slept till eleven. In town for money, meat, and Relish lunch. 

 

At Relish Dana told us of her concern about her business, which has gone from 200 to 60 covers a day. Landlord won’t cut the rent in spite of these lousy days for restaurants. Where will he get another tenant now?

 

Home to process green chili sauce and poach chicken for tacos tomorrow. Baked chicken breasts and Kim’s spinach and mushroom bread pudding for dinner. 

 

Had a Zoom call with Jill. She described her work and recent breakthroughs in her African American family history. Has identified her great great grandfather using Throughline, an ancestry.com app that links DNA with multiple family trees. She looks beautiful. Really nice call. I hope it didn’t make her depressed. 

 

Watched a bunch of Schitt's Creek.

 

Thursday October 29

 Rain today. Read Sense and Sensibility in the morning. Then watched Adyashanti’s next session on Resurrecting Jesus, during which he discussed myth and that we’ve lost its essence as a non-factual path to a spiritual or profound experience.  So far, I’m really appreciating exploration of the gospels. Although he’s a Buddhist, he observes that although every religion has as it’s basis the God-Man, Christianity is the only religion whose deity has actual humanity, who suffers as people do, and whose teachings are enlivened by human experience.  As I listened to him, I related these ideas to the idolatry of Trump, whose followers don’t care about facts. Trump has become mythic. He presents a god-like persona: infallible, powerful, paternal (although only to his followers).  He even returned from the Covid infection unscathed.  His lies are irrelevant because he is magic, and he bestows magical powers on his followers ("Don't bother wearing a mask").  Mythology itself, like money and energy, has a neutral power, and, like energy and money, can be used to produce destruction or creativity.  

 

Made chicken tacos for early dinner with Stuart and Ann. Talked home made food for cats and dogs, local real estate sales, politics, and Covid. Nice evening. Over early so Michael and I watched Rush, a movie about Formula 1 racing. 

 

Friday October 30

Snow today! Power and Internet are down, but thank goodness we have a generator. 

 

Worked on diary. Watched Jesus series and have a mixed response. 

 

Have major diarrhea. Maybe from hard cider that Stuart brought? 

 

Went out into garden to pick collards and kale. Temperature was forty and is supposed to go down to 20s this weekend. I wore finger mittens but still really cold picking. 

 

Picked Willie up at train and had rest of Kim’s vegetable soup and corn bread. Watched Hercule Poirot.

October 17-23. Loving Kindness, Gabe and Ayesha Visit

Saturday October 17

Slept ok last night.  Feeling a bit livelier today, although my hand aches—maybe from Neulasta.  Constipation for days.

Listened to second session of Sharon Saltzman’s loving kindness medication series.  Not entirely at ease with the English phrases serving as meditation anchors. They sound flat and banal. "May <<name>> be safe, may <<name>>be happy, be healthy, be at ease (or at peace).  I'm interested, however, to see what ten straight days of this mantra will do. 

 

Long texts from Kim on PTA craziness.  She's trying to organize virtual elections for 27 schools with inadequate and ignorant guidance from the BOE.

 

Took a nap at noon and made cheese and pickle sandwich. Good in the abstract but could only eat half. Shaky.  

 

Watched Willie play the new game Cloud Punk. Seems good but involves a lot of driving and bumping into things.

 

Brought in Baba Louis pizza. Ate two pieces. Watched Zero Effects. We loved it in the nineties. What were we thinking?

 

Sunday October 18

Still feeling rocky with no appetite in the morning. Off the Zofran however and movements are starting.

 

Willie and I achieved a significant Cloud Punk task, watched a Hercule Poirot, and Face Timed with Ginny, who took her final vows today. She walked her phone around the very pleasant convent, showing us the elaborate catered lunch and introducing us to her Sisters Pat and Josephine and the priest who performed the ceremony. Hard to find a more cheerful crew. 

 

We saw Willie off at the train at two thirty and then I had a bath and a nap. 

 

Afterword I followed a loving kindness session with Sharon Salzmann. Then at five I attended a live Zoom cooking lesson sponsored by the Culinary Institute of America with a pretty lively Indian chef at five. 

 

Although still without appetite and slightly nauseated I cheered up Kim’s vegetable soup with some miso, tomato purée and red chili sauce. It was somewhat reviving. 

 

Watched Chicago Seven with Aaron Sorkin's more or less predictable smart-ass dialogue. Played a little fast and loose with the events but was right for the time, evocative in a true way. My one-degree of separation was spending the night in William Kunstler's house, sleeping on his couch and being woken up when he kissed me on the cheek in the morning.  The night before I had met Larry Rottman, my boy friend at the time, at Kunstler's house in Mamaroneck. Kunstler's wife was home but not Bill. I fairly quickly figured out that Larry was having an affair with her.  He was actually having an affair with several women.  Larry was a former President of Viet Nam Vets Against the War, which I romanticized until I found out he embezzled $8000 from his organization, a donation from Noam Chomsky to support Viet Nam orphans.  He disappeared to New Mexico where he had a long-suffering wife. I thought I saw him one day when we visiting but it wasn't him. 

 

Now have twitchy legs and awake but feeling better, 

 

Monday October 18

Slept late but feeling much better.  Read a couple articles Willie sent me on Mansfield Park from one of his Catholic journals.  Made me want to read Austen again (or re-re-re-read her).  

 

Did a Sharon session focusing on a neutral person. Came up with a Waiter at Le gamin. Very hard to make that person resonate in any way. Realized that I don’t neutralize most people but have some emotional response no matter how little I know them. 

 

Had half a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, but very shaky. I haven't recovered from this chemo ground as quickly as I did in the last cycle.   

 

In the afternoon, I went to the garden and picked broccoli and greens. I love that stuff is still there to pick and I haven’t even gotten started on the Brussels sprouts, which look much heartier than that did last year.

 

Did some diary in the afternoon and watched a newer Miss Marple series from 2004.  Like the actress.  Amazing cast.  

 

Michael grilled steak. I baked potatoes and made a salad.  Easy comfort food. Appetite is back.  

 

Watched Good Place and Schitt's Creek.  

 

Had intense meditation during the night, as if I was experiencing the disintegration of my body.  Not scary.  It was as if all my atoms were jangling and going off into space.  My insomnia meditations generally involve observing these jangling molecules until, if I’m lucky, they metaphorically line up and I become calm and can sleep.  I’ve been dealing with too many conflicting faiths, plus reading Veritas, the story of the papyrus con that suggested Jesus was married.  

 

 

Tuesday October 19

Got up and processed the bitter greens.  Minor triumph.  Still tired after tough night.  Did Sharon Saltzman meditation on loving kindness for a successful friend. Chose my old boss Joanne. I'm curious if this practice does anything after the intensive sessions.  It’s never really worked before.  

 

After some frustrating attempts Michael set me up so I can update the Recovery Kitchen website. Did diary editing from July. Done for now. 

 

Made steak sandwiches for lunch. Froze leftover vegetable soup, then dumped 9 bags of cat shit that have accumulated during chemo week,

 

The Lady of Fatima rosary beads have been sitting in my jacket pocket wrapped in lavender within a Ziploc bag, but that heavy rose odor steamed out of it. I took them out and the paint on the beads, which had gone through some dissolution, rubbed off on my fingers. My pocket still oozes rose. I unscrambled them and hung them on a pole in the garage to see if the odor will go away.

 

Took a walk to the pond, which seems lower than ever. It seems to rain all around us but we’re in some weird microclimate. Was delighted to see the wooden swing along the path back to the house.  I had forgotten all about it.  The day was warm enough to sit and rock in it, watching the meadow singing in color. 

 

Still shaky today after brief walk. It appears to be a slower recovery.

 

Made a stir-fry chicken and a noodle thing, which turned out ok but didn’t love it. 

 

Watched The Good Place and Schitt's Creek.

 

Wednesday October 21

Bad sleep last night. A steady leg cramp kept waking me up. Today I feel mildly sick with very little appetite.

 

Sharon meditation today was focused on a friend who is struggling. I chose Richard S. 

 

A Scenic Hudson monitor showed up for the annual walk through the easement to be sure we aren’t putting up neon signs or building a golf course. Michael went with him.

 

I fixed the Recovery Kitchen website and worked on the diary.

 

Took a long nap and then watched a Miss Marple. Put chili together for dinner with Kim’s corn bread but still have low appetite.  The Good Place and Schitt's Creek.

 

Thursday October 22

.

Went grocery shopping at about eight-thirty, which was perfect.  The senior hour is six to seven (which I will never get up for), so they have left but the youngsters haven't arrived yet. I don’t have to get up early so I wasn’t too knocked out, and the store is empty, so my exposure to the virus is low.

 

The Sharon Saltsburg loving kindness meditation used a difficult friend. I chose Sandy Moore, because I don’t know her very well and I find her difficult to talk to.  For one, her paintings that involve expressionistic white men disemboweling black natives are very disturbing. She also likes to hand out slightly officious advice on areas I know about. And she wants to be my friend. She’s perfect for this meditation, because I feel guilty about disliking her.

 

Drove to Chatham to pick up signs and stopped at the Deli for lunch. Harris' nephew Svi, who owns the place, was there so we sat at his table while we ate our lunch. He’s on dialysis now and waiting for a kidney transplant. His lovely wife Beatrice showed up in her chemo scarf and we compared regimens. This is her second time around with breast cancer. She’s going to have surgery to remove the tumor in her chest and they’re hoping it hasn’t gotten into the bone. 

 

Svi and I mostly gossiped about Harris, which reminded me that I hadn't talked to Harris or Neville in about a week, so I called him. They’ve gotten a great leasing deal from the solar company, which will fix the roof, lay the panels on it, and install the electricity, which will end up costing about $100 a month.   Harris sounded depressed, however.  Moving into a new house, when you've lived in apartments for 80 years, is exhausting.  

 

A very warm beautiful day so I went out and rocked back and forth on the swing in the field. The space around me was filled with the smell of autumn oak leaves from the tree behind me, much better than the roses.

 

Talked to Lee and Wendy, who is lukewarm about her new house and, in fact, moving back East. She loved Wisconsin and described feeling at home the minute they moved there.

 

Talked to Carole Clark about her friend David who is dying from metastatic gallbladder cancer. Carole has known him since they were both chefs in New York decades ago. He's known as the pie guy, and sells wonderful pastries at the farmers market.  Janet and our David were steady customers and became friends with him, so he is helping Carole and Pie David by driving them St. Peter's. They are also seeing Dr. Luyun and like him. It appears the cancer has spread rapidly and chemo is palliative only (although for that matter so is mine).

 

Willie called with an odd story about Carrie, Richards's stepsister (maybe half). He had been trying to reach her but neither she nor her husband picked up, so he drove Richard drove out to their mansion in New Jersey, which was empty with the mail piled up at the entrance.  Richard called Carrie's stepson, who said that someone stole two millions dollars from them and they had turned themselves into a long-term facility. That was all there was.

 

Attended a ZOOM CCDC meeting which was about getting out the vote for the election and very congenial. 

 

Watched the last Biden Trump debate. Not as insane as the first one, but everyone wants this horror show over.

 

Friday October 23

Went to nearby farm stands searching for red cabbage.  Found it fortunately at the new Meisner’s.  Eager’s seems to be out of almost everything.  

 

Did a Sharon session aiming loving kindness at groups—one you felt positive about and one you felt neutral or even negative about.  I targeted Democrats and all those who are not Democrats.  Nice exercise, although it makes me sleepy, and Sharon keeps interrupting the flow, although I guess if she didn’t I’d doze off.

 

Edited an RK appeal letter, and roasted butternut squash for tomorrow vegan meal. 

 

Had a breakthrough with Jill. I emailed her the story about Carrie and her stolen millions. Jill answered:

"Richard doesn't speak to me at all anymore and so I don't care to hear second hand information about him.  You need to be considerate of the fact that he dumped me as a family member. I'm not an old friend. I was, allegedly, family."

I thought she overreacted and my first impulse as usual was to go all-righteous as usual and to tell her to live in the present and get over the past, that Richard's alcoholism has pushed him away from everyone. Instead I just responded that the story was about Carrie, not Richard, and she then answered “Not to me.” 

 

I conjured up Dorothy for inspiration and suddenly I was overwhelmed with grief for Jill. Two fathers whom she believed loved her rejected her through no fault of her own. I never had to endure that sadness. I emailed an apology to her and we got back on track, but I’m so grateful for that painful understanding. I get it now.

 

Gabe and Ayesha got here at about five. They both looked beautiful. Everyone should be quarantined like that—exercising, cooking good food, with family all around.  We had wine on the deck and they described their work and studies, Gabe has set up a YouTube tutorial on machine learning using different datasets, which I vaguely understood, and Ayesha is planning on studying computer science. Right now, in addition to her college courses she's taking online classes in web development apps. We talked Buddhism for a while and then went inside. I made them play cat bingo while the vegan shepherd pie they brought heated up, which was really good. Watched the new Borat movie, brilliant and nerve wracking.

 

October 10-16. Chemo Week, Many Mediations

Saturday October 10

The hair that had grown back after my shave a couple weeks ago is snowing off my head. Dr. Luyun had predicted this yesterday. Glad I had it done.  Lazy morning after intense bath meditation when I experienced unexpected bottled up rage coating extreme self-pity. Hanging on to Dorothy and Pema’s coattails for dear life. 

 

Walked the meadow with Michael, carrying his level, to identify a spot for the swing. He rejected my original choice because it had too much of a slope, which was part of my bathtub rage this morning. But morning meditation centering on shempa was effective and my habitual resentment of his drive for perfection washed away. We found a spot under the oak wolf tree, which provides shade, a northern view of the meadow's slope, and an easy sideways look at the pond and the house. Plus the ground is level! Everyone is pleased. 

 

Watched a new episode of the Great British Baking Show. We went to the Episcopal Church to pick up our Recovery Kitchen fundraiser dinners. Short ribs, gravlax, cheese plate, apple Gillette. We ate early, around five, having skipped lunch. 

 

Dave called and asked us over for wine. Janet was there too. Can’t remember when the four of us socialized together. Talked cancer mostly, not just ours but other people’s. They had one of their cats in a colorful harness, ala Joseph’s multicolored coat, attached to a leash, which alternated between being taken off and then put back on, mostly off so she kept escaping off the patio. It was comfortable and natural but I’m wary of asking Janet over. Thrice bit,

 

Went home and Michael smoked dope and drank more wine. We went upstairs to watch The Good Place. I turned around and he was going all comatose again, turning gray with his arm twisted and shaky. I decided to video him so he’d know what scared me. He was already coming out of it though so I don’t think it would have the effect.  He was fine and we then watched Schitt's Creek. His response to that dope/wine combo is so odd and disconcerting 

 

 

Sunday October 11

Not good sleep, with inadequate meditation and an intense boredom with myself. Watched the Pema workshop, with a mediation covered by Tim Olmsted, her associate. He makes me sleepy but in the middle of it, even while semiconscious, some insight occurs. This morning he closely described the irritable meditation I had last night and commented that this was progress. I have prayed or meditated all my life off and on and progress is both an illusion and a singular hopeful experience. 

 

David and Janet gave us half a loaf of rye from the new incredibly pretentious bakery that’s only open Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, founded by some Very Famous Fashion Photographer who discovered sour dough in San Francisco and then discovered Hudson, so here he is.  He also uses local grains (sort of, but there’s not a lot of local grains so basically he buys wheat from some place in the Midwest).  The rye was dense, under cooked and had a weird overpowering taste that overwhelmed anything that lay on it, including the great gravlax from last night, which I was looking forward to having for lunch with the nice cheese.  It disappeared coming through the rye.  Ah well.

 

Michael took the tractor over to our old back yard and retrieved the wooden swing that Geoff and Kim had given me ten years ago.  He set it up under the oak tree in the middle of the meadow.  So happy to have it there, even though I might not be able to use it much now that fall is coming.  

 

Roasted a chicken for dinner and made the side with bulgur wheat, a nice grain.  We watched Good Place and Schitz Creek. 

 

What hair is left is flaking off. I look like an old slightly overweight elf.

 

Monday October 12

Went too late to the supermarket.  Parking lot was filled, so I didn’t want to go in.  Stopped instead at Meisner’s farm market where I lugged two heavy shopping bags across the parking lot.  Felt very sorry for myself! Should get a handle on that self-pity.  

 

Watched another Pema session with Tim, who leads a good Tonglen meditation, which is very difficult.  You have to envision a difficult person (or yourself or the world) and breath in the essence of that difficulty and then breathe out a positive soothing energy.  I reverted back to my days in college and the practice of UPOK (Unconscious Pool of Knowledge), which was invented by one of my roommate's mother.  It required envisioning a specific event or person that one of our friends wanted or needed, with the caveat that no one could be hurt, visualizing its realization, and sending it out into the universe. I got pretty good at it, pulling in a number of calls from boyfriends or potential boyfriends for my dorm mates.  I performed UPOK later on occasion, including envisioning a girl friend for Lee's first husband Matt so they could happily split up. One criterion was that she had to be a beauty queen.  He came home a couple later and announced to Lee that he had fallen in love with New Haven's Miss Pizza. Their marriage ended relatively peacefully, after having four kids before their ages of 21.  Lee went on to get her BA, masters in education, and a law degree, plus Tom.  So that worked pretty well for her. I've discovered that the mediations involving reaching out with affection pretty much feel like UPOK.  

 

Talked to Patty.  Horse shows are over in the Northeast for the season, but she’s heading for Florida around Thanksgiving and not coming back until March.  Hope to see her before she goes.  Talked to her partner Jim about deadly adverbs, which were attacked in Stephen King's book On Writing. How do you say “work remotely” without being awkward?  Also you're not supposed to use second phrases in a sentence unless you’re Henry James.  I think we’re back to Dick and Jane for the sake of the current reading population. 

 

Ann dropped by to ask Michael to help with a problem with her tires. She hung out for a while and talked about her youth and her friends in Bronxville, including her future husband Ted, my future husband and Liz's then boyfriend Richard Snow. She brought up the well-worn stories about Ted's mother, her future ex-mother in-law, who spread a rumor that Liz had spiked tuna fish sandwiches with LSD and got Ted and Richard high and that Richard’s mother had a shoe box full of money (which I think Richard is still looking for).  That Liz and Ann and I ended up here in Hudson and that I'm a friend with them still is odd and comforting.  

 

After Ann left, I made chicken enchiladas while we listened to music, then watched The Good Place and Schitt's Creek.

 

Tuesday October 13

Writing in the infusion room for my five-hour treatment.  Ann was kind enough to drive me here. Nice to be alone with her. We’ve been friends for forty years. I went with Richard to her wedding with Ted and visited her with Michael in Ohio twice. She and I spent a great week in Key West between my divorce from Richard and meeting Michael. She stayed with us the first time she moved back to New York from Cincinnati and was looking for an apartment. Then she lived in the barn apartment when she returned again from Cincinnati and moved to Hudson. And she recovered in our New York apartment after her cancer surgery.  In spite of all this, I often feel that I don't know her very well, that I'm worried about her lapsed Catholic judgment of my adultery and divorce from Richard, although that may just be projection.  

 

The chemo room is very jolly today, with two men chatting back and forth until one of them left. During their conversation I learned that that they both like beer, one is a Bear's fan and that he found dead mouse the other day.  A mistake many writers and filmmakers make about chemo rooms is that they are depressing, but at least mine isn't. The nurses keep the environment upbeat and most of the patients, like me, have drugs that keep the side effects to minimum.  Today I got a massage and warm blankets. (The masseur was even from Averill Park!) I get an ok sandwich for lunch and when the Benadryl kicked in, I napped for an hour.

 

I’m reading three books at a time: Dorothy’s Selected Readings in the tub; Veritas, a book I read during chemo that Richard gave me about a fraudulent piece of papyrus suggesting Jesus was married; and a new Denise Mina Kindle mystery to read in bed.

 

Reheated Kim’s orzo for dinner.

 

Talked to Ginny and Willie about Gnosticism and pro life. Ginny is on retreat before her final vows next Sunday. Because no one can travel the fellow sisters are letting her take over the convent's guesthouse. It has a television, which excited Ginny because she can watch CSpan. She also has time to call friends and talk for long periods with them. Doesn’t sound like much of a meditative preparation for her final vows but she seems much less burned out than when I last talked to her, so I’m a fan of the TV and telephone retreat. Willie is less depressed than he was yesterday after a friend of his reported on a Samantha sighting, who appeared to be happy (but when did Samantha ever not appear to be happy, including when she was not). In any case it was not happy news for Willie. I suggested again that he might get in touch with her, which he rejected. Increasingly I’m a fan of trying to rid the brain of fantasies and false memories. You can only do that by making the present as real as possible. Everything I’m reading or watching or doing these days seem to be making that point, although I wish it didn’t require the knowledge of ones impending death as its inspiration. 

 

Feeling a bit manic tonight. Crash will undoubtedly come tomorrow.

 

Wednesday October 14

Feeling ok this morning but chemo brain settling in. I threw the coffee grinds into the trash instead of the compost and couldn’t remember what we had for dinner last night (a true indication of a disrupted mind). 

 

Spent the morning watching Tim lead a very good and useful meditation as part of the Pema workshop. He’s awkward enough so that there's no danger of him becoming a cult leader, but he's very effective in leading a pragmatic and accessible practice.

 

Worked on the financial spreadsheet for the Recovery Kitchen for the rest of the morning. 

 

Reheated enchiladas for lunch. Feeling pretty good on day 2 but the Neulasta hasn’t kicked in yet. 

 

Talked to Ann in the afternoon, mostly about Richard Wallace and his extreme pedantry that tends to overtake any evening were all together. He’s smart and much of what he spins is interesting but it dominates the room and he seems to be incapable of listening to anyone else. Ann and I think this is a fairly recent personality development. I believe he’s propping himself against all his personal losses—the career running Electronic News editorial that gave him so much prestige self esteem, the bitter end of that long marriage, the death of everyone in his family. Such sadness.

 

Jill and I are having nice correspondence. We decided that Thanksgiving wasn’t going to happen. Covid on the rise and travel is too risky and difficult. 

 

I reheated Kim’s orzo for the third time. That’s enough. The Neulasta was triggered at seven, so probably will be clobbered tomorrow.

 

In my daily call from Jeremy he mentioned he was watching Bond movies, which inspired me to stream Dr. No, the first one.  Really outdated and absurdly sexists. Sean Connery was too pretty; he got better looking as he aged.

 

Thursday October 15

Fatigue is setting in but I did leg exercises in the bathtub, which helped. Flattened for most of the day, which is gold and glorious outside.  

 

Watched the last Pema session, which covered the bardo and dying.  It has been a valuable series. 

 

Afterward lay down for an hour or so with Diana next to me, occasionally gnawing on my hand.  Testing to see if I was alive?  

 

 Michael made us cheese and tomato sandwiches for lunch. 

 

Watched part of the dueling Presidential town halls on NBC and ABC. The woman moderating Trump's went after him with good questions, that were surprising and gratifying. But I couldn't take much of either so we switched to the Good Place.

 

Friday October 16

Slept till eleven. Zonked.

 

Started ten-day online meditation series with Sharon Saltzman, a Buddhist practitioner, whom I first saw years ago at my yoga studio in New York.  She focuses on loving kindness, and at that time I was disappointed by how dowdy she looked—overweight, frumpy clothes— and I was put off by the concept of loving kindness itself, which seemed like a Hallmark Card meditation.  Then I saw her again a few years later at the Tibet House in the city, and understood how straightforward and clear she was.  No frills.  No affect.  Nothing charismatic, just honest.  She also has made me a believer in metta—loving kindness—as solid basis for meditation. 

 

Called Jim Dolan to find out about his stress test, which turns out isn’t due until next week. So he took the opportunity to goad me about Biden. I told him I was too flattened to fight him and turned him over to Michael, who patiently and intelligently argued with him. I went upstairs and watched the documentary on Mr. Rogers, which made me cry.

 

Rainy evening.  Picked Willie up at the train station and reheated Kim’s vegetable soup and corn bread for dinner.  Godsend. 

 

We sort of watched From Russia With Love.  Willie marked papers while it was on and Michael dozed.  I was the only one who watched this turkey from beginning to end. I remember thinking it was great and Willie read a stack of rave reviews for the movie.  But it’s a horror of misogyny.  Young millenniums and progressives should be made to watch this and the Searchers (an appallingly sexist movie that still inexplicably makes lists of all-time best films) so they can see how far we’ve gotten.

 

 

October 3-9. Richard and Carol Visit, Pema Workshop

Saturday October 3

Went to Green Acres Farm as soon as I got up to pick up bread for lunch. Very crowded even at nine in the morning.  

Finished up lunch preparation for Richard S, Carol, and Willie, who arrived at 1:00. Really nice time with them. We probably spent too much time (for Willie) recalling some of his more interesting ADHD childhood adventures but all agreed we had been lucky to share the parenting of Willie. Carol described Hearst's the antediluvian and incompetent upper management, all old white guys who are causing the entire corporation to implode. The President was just fired after repeated extreme sexist behavior, so stupid in this environment. Richard looks deeply depressed, a collapsed version of the person I knew. Of course he’s old but we all are. He still hasn't written anything since Disney's Land. I took advantage of being the obnoxious ex-wife and made book suggestions, which of course he politically responded to but he just looks battered. I was very flattered by Carol's envy of your house, which has inspired her to rethink her entire apartment renovation. They left around three with Willie behind to stay overnight.

 

Willie gave me a rosary from the dean of his school with elaborate instructions, a diagram on how to perform it, and a very sweet note praying for my cancer and telling me how wonderful my son was. 

 

Spent the read of afternoon completing Recovery Kitchen reports and sending them to Pam and Carole, which they won’t understand or be able to open and print. 

 

Watched Tokyo story, a beautiful movie made in 1953 about a family who could have lived anywhere. It mitigated my anti-Japanese bias.

 

Sunday October 4

Watched a Poirot with Willie when he came back from church and then dropped him off at train station at 12:30. 

 

Went to lunch afterward at la Gamin, sitting inside by the window, with lots of distancing. The restaurant is still the emotionally warmest place in town, with its French thirties vernacular and beautiful omelets. New Yorkers are clustered in various outside dining venues along Warren’s sidewalk, driven to Hudson by leaf possibilities and a rave article in Vogue. It's chilly today, however; I hope global warming keeps these places open as long as possible. The covid prospects are dire for this coming winter.

 

Home to work on Recovery Kitchen financials and then diary. 

 

Made chicken and bitter green pesto for dinner. Leftover goodness.

Watched The Good Place and a Schitt's Creek rerun

 

Monday October 5

Missing the entry, but I wrote a poem that day.

 

Only the birds move,

A miracle of flight across a photograph of stillness.

Soon the earth will close. 

Those geese, a clamorous prophecy, will go.

But step outside. 

The raucous bees are gobbling up the fleabane, urgent as infants.

The locusts in the field applaud with crisp approval the failing sun,

And asters, frivolous in purple spikes, remind us. Celebrate. 

 

Tuesday October 6

 Slept late. Was feeling isolated and missing friends after the decision not to see Harris and Neville tonight. Right on cue, Richard Wallace called and we talked for about a half hour, which was cheery. However, he too often lectures on local or historic event that can be interesting but are typically too prolonged and far too detailed. He volunteers for several organizations, including the Army, a city development committee, and the USS Slater. He takes frequent road trips by himself that last a couple weeks during which he uncovers many more facts that he shares when he gets back. His current obsession is genealogy and his upstate family. His mother's grew up in Fayetteville, the same town as my Dad and they are buried in the same graveyard. I wonder if they knew each other. Richard said today that the quarantine is uncovering a deep anger that he hasn’t experienced in years. It must, as least in part, overlie the sadness of his life: two alcoholic parents, a brother—like mine—schizophrenic and a suicide, his two sisters gone from cancer, a broken marriage after 40 years and only a recent and limited reconciliation with his son. He’s a very good smart man. Just talks a little too much. 

 

Spent the morning browsing newspaper.com for articles on the African American intellectual movement at the turn of the 20^th century, which was heartbreaking in its hope and confidence. An article on the National-Afro-American Council meeting in Minneapolis in 1902 reported on so many smart ideas on reform and ways of achieving quality. Too many of them still resonate today, 150 years later, as if during that time the process got caught in the gears of an evil Jim Crow time machine. 

 

Watched first part of a Pema Chödrön's weekend workshop on death and bardo, on preparation for death and how to live with impermanence. 

 

Michael and I took a walk to the pond. We so need rain.

 

Reheated brisket for dinner and watched The Good Place, 

Wednesday October 7

 Watched second morning of Pema Chödrön’s workshop. Years ago I read a book as part of my erratic and generally unsuccessful spiritual journey, which recommended that I visualize a spiritual guide. Even then I was conflicted between Christianity and Buddhism. The story of Christ has had an emotional hold on me since childhood but is too weighted with mythology. Buddhism, on the other hand, is more intellectually accessible but came to me too late in the game to play any deep role in my psyche. I fooled around with the images of Jesus as a skinny hyperactive bearded guy and Buddha as a fat avuncular type, but neither resonated as guides. The exercise was too pretentious ad self-conscious. As spiritual pathfinders, Pema and Dorothy Day are much more effective, maybe because they are women and because their own spiritual lives was paved with their sexual flaws.

 

Went to CVS for flu shots at noon but they were out of the heavy-duty senior version and didn’t know when they would get any in stock.

 

Got home to Jeremy’s present, which he has told me I would love! I had anticipated a Portland Pickles hat but he had sent me a game of Cat Bingo. Excellent! Looking forward to playing it. 

 

Made sandwiches and then watched Cuomo’s press conference, where he came off as bullying, avoiding questions on the gun violence in Albany. After months of compassionate presentations on the virus, his belligerent behavior was surprising, although in keeping with the reputation he has among his upstate opponents. 

 

I have asked Richard W and Ann over for dinner and cat bingo on Friday. I prepared a version of curry for it, which includes turmeric, a spice that I consider beautiful, earthy, and healthy but that Michael hates because it stains the counter yellow. We always fight about it. The conflict is really not about turmeric but about Michael’s obsessive and perfectionist nature vs. my not so secret attraction to chaos. It’s been ongoing for over 30 years, and I had anticipated it on our first date when I walked into his immaculate apartment. We actually have done pretty well if we can limit this behavioral chasm to a turmeric difference. 

 

While I was watching Pema's session, a big wind and heavy rain suddenly blew up the afternoon. Then, the autumn gray sky spun out some sunlight to create a spectacular rainbow, which like some tacky cliché, was the example of bardo used in yesterday’s Pema workshop. The universe probably likes clichés.

 

Dave came by and had a glass of wine with us. Pleasant. 

 

Roasted the tomato and chili rubbish from the garden and processed into a sauce that I used with sausage and kale over rice. Easy.

 

Watched the Vice Presidential debate. Kamala was fine: articulate, steady, but a bit too weirdly smiley throughout. Pence was robotic and a good soldier, who dutifully talked over his time and tried without much success to interrupt Harris in an inept imitation of his terrible master. 

 

Thursday October 8

 Talked to Lee and Tom this morning, who are in a virtual Zoom chorus and sent me a link to the piece they did. The process was interesting. Each choral member recorded their part separately by listening through earphones and matching their voice with another's singing the same part. The director then combined and balanced all the voices. It was coordinated and beautiful. In addition, an advantage to using Zoom was being able to watch the individual members singing in their little boxes, so I could actually see Lea and Tom's expressions close up. It was great.

 

I had an odd experience last night, which may have been related to the Pema workshop. I woke up around two with insomnia--not unusual--and I meditated by sitting against the head of the bed. I've been doing this often lately, because it helps relieve my twitching legs, which are often the causes of the insomnia. A bath also helps but sitting up is less elaborate. During last night's meditation I developed this odd pity for my legs, as if they were my children. They didn't stop twitching but I had some understanding of the Buddhist practice of compassion to oneself, which is always tricky because I associate it with self-pity. This was different. It really was compassion for my legs. Maybe I’m progressing, although I was subsequently annoyed with Pema's third session today. It focused on the afterlife and reincarnation, which are not only unbelievable concepts but also not appealing. 

 

It was a beautiful day, warm with the dried meadow grasses and goldenrod washing back and forth in muted color. I decided to go Catholic as a Buddhist antidote, so I took the rosary Willie had passed on to me out for a walk, fingering each bead and trying to experience Bardo in the spaces between them. Willie's dean had bought the rosary when she visited the Lady of Fatima in Portugal, so I was particularly grateful for what I believed was a real sacrifice and hoped for something enlightening from it. Unfortunately, the beads still reek of roses, even after I stored them with lavender in a plastic bag. In fact, the lavender made the odor stronger, weirder, and more unpleasant. Willie called later and after I complained about it, he admitted that the Dean also hated the rose smell, which was why she was happy to pass the beads on. It pleased me that she hadn’t made some deep emotional sacrifice for a stranger.

 

In any case, the Buddhist idea of renewed life and Catholic heaven was agitating, so I returned to my Krishnamurti practice— austere, straightforward, just plain self-observation. Made me feel better. 

 

Did more garden cleanup. 

 

Ate reheated leftover brisket on baked potato and then we watched The Good Place.

 

Friday October 9

 Went to Albany for appointment with Dr. Luyun, who, after learning that I was feeling normal and agreeing I should have shaved my head last week, talked about the difficulties of finding a PS5 for his daughter. 

 

Came home and made a cheese and pickle sandwich for me and the rest of the brisket on toast for Michael. 

 

Watched a Pema session afterward, which was conducted by Tim Olmsted, her associate who always makes me sleepy. 

 

Decided to walk up the meadow and find a spot to put the old swing, which Geoff and Kim gave me years ago and has been sitting under a tree in the back yard of the barn. The new tenants don’t use it because they are afraid of ticks and Dave wants to move it because he can’t mow around it. He’ll bring it over tomorrow with his tractor. I hope the wood holds up. I will love to have it here. 

 

While walking I called Faye and learned she had had a minor stroke. In fact the stroke ha hit her when I was last time cooking and no one noticed it. She only had some numbness in her hand and wasn't concerned then. She turned herself in a week later and after a bunch of scans they didn't fine anything. She said they are going to monitor her heart, so I suspect they are looking for AFIB. We talked cooking and she described to me (again, but it never does me any good) how to fry chicken, which involves seasoning (“not too much”), putting the chicken in when the oil is the right temperature (“you can tell by looking at it”) and taking it out when you “can’t hear it anymore”. Ok.

 

Jill sent me Livy's first stop action video featuring a frog offering tea to a guest. It's extraordinary tiny parable of the poignancy of loving kindness, and made me cry. 

 

Richard Wallace and Ann came for dinner. Since I had made a curry ahead of time and I had nothing to cook today. Very strange. Nice evening. I made everyone play Cat Bingo. Most of the talk centered on Hudson and the changes that have occurred with Warren Street's increasing trendiness and wealth offset by the surrounding urban and broader rural poverty. It’s like a mini New York City rather than the dead-factory upstate towns that stagnate along the Hudson and Mohawk rivers.