Two major epiphanies in two days

First the minor epiphany: I get to have good things even sometimes when I am convinced I don't'. You may recall that on March 15th I posted a lament about my dead microwave which can no longer be replaced with one that will fit my microwave gap. I WAS WRONG!! I sought an opinion from the good folks at Neil Kelly Company in Southtown. I passed their door on my way back to my car after purchasing a new bra (it has come to this: I am back in an underwire due to increasing gravitation effects). It occurred to me that I could just ask them for a road map of how to approach my problem. Not anticipating this visit in advance, I did not have the damning measurements on hand. When asked the width of my nuker I guessed 40". Apparently that is never the width of this type. They are either 30" or 36". I said "well, it certainly isn't 30 (it is). I think this was a clue, perhaps not the first, that I was in a state of grief and panic, and as such should be handled kindly. Their recommendation (which I had ruled out before based on bad data and numerous assumptions) was for me to take my measurements to Oldfield's, now Kelly's and seek EXPERT assistance. Huh!

So I swung by home to take a third or fourth careful measurement of the current set up. I discovered to my joy and chagrin, that the part of the nuker which was flush with the cabinet face was in fact 30". I had been measuring the outer edge (the door) which was slightly wider. Oy. So off to Oldfield's, where within one glorious hour I had selected a very nice nuker (which was in stock) and scheduled installation for April 2, for less than $350. Happiness and gratitude for the willingness to seek help, and getting it, was overwhelming.

Now, the major epiphany. First a little background: a long time ago when visiting my aunt and uncle in Seattle, they shared their nightly(?) viewing of the Rachel Maddow "news" hour. I have always found her abrasive more than humorous. For years now I have been getting my only TV based "news" from the late night witty and playful folks (Colbert, Oliver, Meyers, Noah, and formerly the great Stewart). So here's the epiphany: I need no assistance being outraged as I can do that in my sleep. I sometimes need help with finding the humor. I need my despair clothed in humor, and sometimes I need others to help with that.

Too early for Easter?

First, a word about English pronouns he and she:
Definition. A pronoun (I, me, he, she, herself, you, it, that, they, each, few, many, who, whoever, whose, someone, everybody, etc.) is a word that takes the place of a noun. 
From grammarbook.com

In the increasing sensitivity to non-binary and/or non-exclusionary and/or just plain silly at times use of "they" in this otherwise previously uncontroversial fragment: "my spouse, she", we now often read: "my spouse, they". EVERY time I read this sensitively updated reference to a single person, my brain thinks: how many spouses are you trying to not actually disclose? English, for it's sins, is the default "universal" language (example: it is the convention for international air traffic control). This primacy places a burden on English to not get any effing trickier. We need a third new pronoun for referring to anything singularly human. Dear reader(s), please solve this, distribute widely, and lobby congress. Thank you in advance.

Now to what prompted this heartfelt side issue: Can one say "It has risen" and not unduly roil Christians? Can one safely say it of an inanimate (I have been assuming) collection of electronics generally identified as a microwave oven? If so, It has indeed risen, but all bets are off on for how long.

A little background: the mild (by west coast standards) snow storm we recently experienced gave us an inkling that a mere week's worth of food that can be prepared without power might not be enough in the event of "the big one" (Cascadia fault mega earthquake which, geologically speaking, is over due). In this spirit, having NOT lost power during the last storm, my nuker stepped in to deliver the message. In my case, all power does not need to be lost to create a culinary panic. How can I simultaneously nuke water in my coffee cup while heating water in my hot pot for my morning pour over coffee? SEE?  I was screwed. On Tuesday after acting a little hinky (technical term applied to any technology that eludes me), it stopped nuking altogether. In the morning before critical coffee delivery.

I could have decided this was a dog-given opportunity to break out my camp stove and do what I will have to do in the event of (see above). Did I? No, because I still had electric in my walls by dog! BTW, my microwave is an above stove model, original to this house built in 2001. And in the less than 2 decades since, the narrowest version of this type I could find online was just under 30" wide My current model measures 29.5" and fits snugly against cabinets on both sides. Despair gripped my soul. Then I remembered: I am rich! I will just buy a countertop model to tide me over while I start what I imagine will be an prolonged "trial by reality", perhaps culminating in a complete kitchen remodel which I totally do not want. I understand such a thing can happen if you simply swap out the light switch covers and then notice the faucet looks dowdy, and then... and then............major inconvenience and expense ensues.

Must end this long (predicated on little of interest to others) blog lest I lose my ever smaller reading "public". Here is a gift for anyone how made it this far and loves silly dog videos: https://slate.com/culture/2019/03/kratu-rescue-dog-competition-crufts-distracted.html

Dog bless us one and all

From Wikipedia:

Shoshin (初心) is a word from Zen Buddhism meaning "beginner's mind." It refers to having an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions when studying a subject, even when studying at an advanced level, just as a beginner would.

I would propose this equivalent term better understood by an American such as myself:

                                                       "dog's mind". 

In my pithiest blog yet, I conclude with a defining video of this concept: https://www.theweathernetwork.com/us/videos/gallery/dog-on-wheels-is-so-excited-to-play-in-the-snow/sharevideo/6012618883001/most_popular
(Note how gently and lovingly dog's higher power lifts him from a dead end trajectory!)

Roll on, fellow spiritual alter-abled American.

I wish I was this funny

Here is the link to a very funny account of evidence of our society's march to oblivion:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/food/wp/2017/09/25/i-tried-a-microwaveable-mug-cake-for-one-and-fell-into-a-deep-void-of-despair/?utm_term=.1556fa224984
In case you cannot access this beyond a pay wall, I will add it as a Word file in my post alert email.

Now here is the really sad part. I have purchased and eaten this abomination, more than once. Yes indeed: I am a single, cat owned, aging woman with a sweet tooth and no baking ambitions. The only way I have been able to slow my slide toward death is an unaccounted for change in my willingness to stop dietary suicide. This miracle occurred about 11 weeks ago and I made a u-turn in my trajectory. I have been eating as if I am the diabetic I so richly deserve to be at this point. I have lost 29 pounds and feel much much better.

This foray (of so many prior) attempts to manage my weight and diet has an extra urgent focus: crafting a pattern which I will not ultimately be driven to abandon. So, although I am eating nothing based on sugar, I have been occasionally indulging in limited quasi sweets such as a 60 calorie sugar free Russel Stover chocolate covered toffee, or a soy based 100 calorie ice cream bar. These are part of a day's food only when they will not override my daily/weekly calorie and macro nutrient goals. So, not daily, but not never.


I know this about myself: if I have to imagine a life without ANY sort of sweet treat beyond fruit (which I love, by the way)  I will be back to sadly, secretly, and suicidally nuking cake in a mug.

The kindest thing I have to say about Individual 1

In "Lady Windemere’s Fan", Oscar Wilde had the quip that a cynic was ‘a man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.‘

So, Individual 1 (i-one) is just a cynic. I too have a lot of cynic in me. But I think I have proven to know the value of quite a few things. So, clearly, there is more (or less) there in his case.

I thought of this quip when I read the article about i-one planning to extort 50% more than the full price of stationing US troops on an ally's territory (you know, that misguided NATO thing that is unfair to US). As touted by an NSA spokesman the Trump administration is "committed to getting the best deal for the American people."

If that is not the definition, embodiment and SOUL of the above quip, I am an optimist.
I  want i-one to immediately resign as America's personal shopper.

By the way, in mathematics "i" is the symbol for an imaginary number which is not part of the set of rational numbers. Thus it signals irrationality. Please use it everywhere it works from now on, as I plan to.


Kitten felled by overwhelming irrationality.
I experience this daily as a result of being politically informed.

Eroding Capabilities

This is the first in a likely to be continued series of laments about my capability trajectory.

First: a little nature/nurture context. I am quite a bit like my parents (yes, really!), It is a source of pride, distress, benefit, and doom. Like both of them I am aggressively pragmatic, organized, and as the Brits say, Sorted. However, with age came some, er slippage. One example: Mom and Dad had cute little look alike three-times-a-day pill containers which Mom filled obsessively and accurately. However, twice (Actually Twice, not Elton's "twice now") Dad swallowed Mom's lunch dose before she could hand him the correct one. Mom was treated for high blood pressure; Dad was a biological wonder of remaining vertical when his pressures suggested he should be flat on his back. This small deviation from plan led to him feeling very light headed and unsteady on his pins which is not useful for a man with a bit of Parkinson-like balance/falling issues. Upon the second iteration of this goof, my sister in law (also pragmatic, and a former RN) stated: the day of the look alike pill containers is OVER. Being pragmatic and organized (also willing to adapt as needed), Mom switched to different colored containers. By the way, when asked if he had not noticed that his lunch pills looked very different than usual he admitted that they Had, but then he swallowed them anyway. Their dynamic by this time had become: Mother deems and Dad (being a gentleman) complies.

I too, benefit from the miracle which is modern pharmacology.  In addition to one likely unneeded multi-vitamin for old folks and vitamin D3, I take the following critical corrections to my natural state: Magnesium for my world class muscle cramping tendency, an allergy pill, a Macular vitamin and testosterone blocking pills for life long "youthful" skin. And critically, I take what I fondly refer to as my anti-psychotic. It's approved use is for depression, but judging from the dreams I have when I overly delay or (worse, much worse) skip a daily dose, it is critical to keep a serious insanity at bay. It should be easy, as in fact it once was to take these with the breakfast I NEVER skip. But a few days ago, I failed to access the tidily secreted, 7-day pill container and blithely sailed through the day and to an early bed. I woke about 10 hours later (my usual is 6) in a pool of sweat feeling like I had tried to out-drink a sailor on leave. (Side note: my dreams were vivid and disorganized with bizarre elements including semi-nakedness, some wantonness, and sailors). From prior examples of this error, I knew what had happened. As inspired by my S-I-L: the day of the hidden pill container is OVER. I must sacrifice my fung-shui devotion to visual spareness and simplicity at the alter of: things have changed, and not for the better.

I will end with a few of my favorite quotes regarding aging:

Unknown: "You are never too old to learn something stupid"
Unknown: "Time may be a great healer, but is a lousy beautician"
My Dad:    "Getting older is not all it's cracked up to be."