02/20/2020!!
Up at 6:45 with scrambled emotions: our son and our daughter-in-law are flying to Iceland today (though he is 51 years old, maternal concern never ends); the day is not going to be what I expected, because lunch with my teaching buddy is cancelled (more about that later). I am short of sleep because I stayed up too late to watch the debate and the following talking-head analysis. I am distressed by concern for the health of a number of friends: our elderly neighbor who fell last week walking to the mail box (no serious head injury), a friend just diagnosed with non-operable brain tumor and a life expectancy of 4-6 months, and unexpected (aren’t they all?) heart attack of another friend with whom I serve on the church stewardship committee. She also will be ok, I believe, but the rest of us will need to pick up the slack.
As I looked forward to this diary day (my first), it pleased me that it fell on a lunch day with S. We taught together in Noblesville in the 90’s, during the exciting time of Middle School Reform. For seven years she was the teaching buddy every teacher dreams about: innovative, caring, a collaborator. On our team we were willing to take chances creating interactive, project-based learning experiences for our students. The bond has lasted the 20 years since we both decided that the school climate created by a new dysfunctional administrator was untenable. In so many ways we couldn’t be more different… politically or religiously. She is unique in those aspects from my close circle of Muncie friends, and I treasure that about her. I am old enough to be her mother. We love each other dearly, bound by our commitment in those years to do what was best for kids. We try to have lunch once a month, but today she is in day four of the flu.
So instead of a carefully orchestrated morning to get to exit 210 and back before late afternoon events, the day stretches before me.
“Would you like cereal this morning?”, asks my mate, L. He always asks and I always say ‘yes’. Oatmeal/steel cut oats, fruit and kefir are my favorite start of the day, plus strong, free trade coffee, of course.
Over breakfast, L and I continue our post-debate discussion, but no clarity emerges. Is there a Democratic candidate who can stand up to Donald Trump, even though polls show any of them beating him? I don’t trust polls.
9:00 Thursday mornings are always mine. When we retired 10 years ago, L and I decided we would have some separate activities. One of his is the Thursday morning Association of Lifelong Learners (ALL) discussion group at EB Ball Center. He leaves at 9 am and returns at 1:30 after lunch with his buddies.
This morning, with lunch plans cancelled, I turn, almost instinctively, to the kitchen, icing cakes for the Soup Kitchen tomorrow morning and using the last of a Costco rotisserie chicken as the base for chicken tortilla soup for my heart-attack friend. I hard boil eggs and make tuna mix for salad as my mind moves between blessings and concerns.
For the first time in years I made three of my late sister-in-law’s lemon-jello cakes to take to Soup Kitchen tomorrow. The recipe gives no proportions for the glaze. I squeeze three lemons from the refrigerator, whisk in powdered sugar…and it comes out exactly the right amount for three cakes. J. died somewhat unexpectedly five years ago and I miss her, even though she lived across the country and we saw her but once a year. She fought bravely against physical and physic pain, yet was so much fun to be with. Her journey reminds me again what a crapshoot life is; she deserved so much more in quality and quantity.
11:30 I leave the soup simmering and retire to the study for computer tasks, including emails I should have answered weeks ago, as well as preparation for DOMA (David Owsley Museum of Art) docent training this afternoon.
12:00 Solitary lunch today…tuna mix on a bed of spinach and escarole in my favorite cobalt blue bowl, with garnish of red onion, blueberries, tomatoes, dressed with my homemade balsamic vinaigrette. I usually watch taped Stephen Colbert at this time; laughter is the only way I can deal with today’s political distress. But he is on vacation, so I track down John Oliver on YouTube discussing Medicare for all, a hot topic on last night’s debate. Oliver effectively hammers on the three major concerns: cost, wait time, and choice. The man has an uncanny talent for digging into a complicated topic with information and humor. I have supported single payer insurance since before the Obama years, but I worry that the voting public may not be able to take that step all at once.
12:30. Taste-tested the soup; it will be perfect after sitting overnight. One last email to a “shirt tale” relative I should have sent weeks ago. Naptime, then preparation for out-of-house events. I learned early in retirement that the afternoon is my least productive time; I don’t fight it.
3:15. As I enter DOMA, I am impressed, as always, with its beauty. What a gift to our community. At Docent Training we practice Visual Thinking Strategies, a questioning procedure for encouraging viewers to look closely at a work of art.
I can stay for only part of the awareness building for visitors with disabilities. It starts in the stunning Sculpture Court. But the happy noise of BSU mentors and mentees bounces around in the hard-walled space, and I find myself feeling the discomfort of overstimulation some special needs students experience.
4:30 Home for a quick spruce up for Alumni Center event. When we arrive we learn that its purpose is to announce an amazing five million dollar matching grant for BSU scholarships by the George and Frances Ball Foundation. It was great fun to share food, wine and conversation with an old friend, now Dean of College of Fine Arts, a new friend who works at the Foundation, and one of the featured scholarship students from the Department of Theatre and Dance. (Full disclosure: the student had no wine!)
8:30 Settled into family room by the fire to watch Rachel Maddow. To bed by 10:00 for a good night’s sleep. Have to be up early tomorrow (6 am) for Soup Kitchen.
02/02/2020 was a good day after all. Writing this diary was an interesting and enjoyable experience. The process led me to be conscious and reflective of my thoughts throughout the day…more aware than usual of its ebb and flow.