Feels like snow.

This story is heartbreaking.

It finally started raining yesterday. Snow in the Catskills. Hopefully this helps to extinguish the fires. Semester is winding down. I entered a Writer's Digest short fiction contest. I wanted to write something new (and I have an idea), but there wasn't enough time, so I tweaked an unpublished favorite. Notifications take place in February. I don't expect to win, but I need to get back on track with writing. Maybe because her birthday will be on Thanksgiving or one of the characters in the story is based on her or due to this story in the news (or all three), I have been thinking about Donna more than usual. I always feared she would suffer the same fate as that poor woman who was found in Troy, but somehow she managed to make it to 53 and die of natural causes  -- if addictions are "natural."

The word that best describes my election attitude: Indifferent. News embargo continues. Will I plug back in four years from now? IDK.

Wildfires rage. It's horrible.

Back to Standard time a couple weeks ago. YAY!

 Friday night I had a wonderful, fun dream featuring my father and pizza.😊

And in other news, pick your poison! Righty or lefty fascism!

I just had a class where a nontraditional student called a young man who was making a presentation "sweetie." In 2024!

November 1 was my ninth anniversary as a vegetarian.

Today, Bob got a mailing that said, "Remember, who you vote for is private, but whether or not you voted is public record." It listed years and it included that he had not voted in 2016. The organization sending it is called "The Center for Voter Information." How creepy and weird. It feels threatening and intimidating. Bob remarked that it seems like a fascist nation -- pick your poison. Fascism from the left or fascism from the right. I'm sure this movement and others like it justify such actions by claiming it's an effort to boost turn out and assert that's a good thing. News flash: Those who have routinely voted and then skip or stop have very good reasons! The candidates suck, the parties suck, the media coverage sucks. WAKE UP. In other political news, I've discovered that texting back "f*** you" is about as effective as "stop" (but far more satisfying).

 A week late, but October 18 was Gotcha Day #3 for Bailey (Hoo) and Bindi (the little one). It wasn't Harry's but this photo is so cute.

I have been intending to make a post every day this week but ran out of time. First, Election irritations: 1) the Molinaro/Riley ads are awful. I am so happy to not live in a so-called swing state. One nasty congressional race is too much; 2) I am inundated with texts from senate and house races in other states. LEAVE ME ALONE. Texting back "stop" doesn't work. Second, because we have unplugged from politics since being awakened and then disenfranchised, we have immersed ourselves in the '80s. We're currently watching "Highway to Heaven." I loved the show when it was on, and it has aged well! What a great show! Finally, last night I had a dream that had my father in it. It had something to do with food. It felt like a dream, a confusing medley, more than an ADC; regardless, it was good to see him.

I have noticed in recent years that "of course" has replaced "you're welcome." This has been true of servers in restaurants for a while. The other fay Bob told me that a man held the door for him and when Bob said "than you," the guy responded "of course." I googled it, and some of the links attributed it to millennials, while others said it was gen z. The sentiment ranged from claiming it's a less formal way of saying you're welcome, the action was expected and insignificant, to suggesting it's rude and implies entitlement. Discussion of an alternative, "no problem," surfaced in a few links. I started thinking about "of nothing," the translation for de nada. Language is interesting, nuanced and it evolves.

 Birthday flowers from Lark Street Flower Market.

Happy belated birthday to me! (It was two days ago.)

                                                                My latest advocacy!

 Also: Mimmie's 120th birthday today. She probably would not approve, but she lived in a different time.

Last night, I finished the book I have been reading (Knife). It was excellent overall and beautifully written. In my head, I have snippets from memorable books that I have read over the years; for example early in the book, when Francie responds to the librarian "she is eleven" in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. That evokes the image of the girl asking for a recommendation and anticipating the opportunity to reread a beloved novel that had been suggested many times before, as well as my own pleasure of reading a wonderful book. In the case of Knife, it came in the last chapter, when the author is preparing to revisit the scene of the attack after 13 months. He writes, “Maybe I was going to Chautauqua to face up to the unbearable knowledge, common to all human beings, that it would never be yesterday again.” What a poignant and exquisitely-crafted sentence.

Today little Bindi is seven years old.

 This is spot-on! Funny yes but sad.

 I am crushed. I will never vote or watch the news again.

 Bob put out signs today!

Lately I have been thinking about the model of community power structures (specifically school boards although it can also be applied to other organizations) by McCarty & Ramsey (1968): Dominated, Factional, Pluralistic, Inert. More later!

I have an answer to the question at the end of my last post. The two parties and the media are corrupt, motivated by greed and gaslighting is the tactic. The Times Union recently had a column (by Chris Churchill) and an editorial about RFK jr. and minor parties. The column argued that RFK jr. should be on the ballot because removing him disenfranchises voters (yay). Of course cheap name-calling was included ("kook") which diminished the piece considerably. The editorial had the laudable view that the 2020 change that made it harder for minor parties to get on (and keep) ballot lines needs reform. But the article ends with a slap at RFK jr. over the bear story. It's truly amazing how so-called journalists don't bother with actual policy. National Enquirer-type stories are more fun. Yes, I know both the column and the editorial are not news, but the TU (and most other legacy outlets) have never had an article about anything of substance that is part of his platform, such as corporate capture or the chronic disease epidemic or the excruciating national debt. Too scary to unplug from the matrix, I guess.

The upcoming semester is creating a lot of work for me, but I wanted to make a few quick notes here. First, two nights ago I had another dream with Daddy in it. This one was a brief glimpse, and it felt more like a dream than an ADC. The focus was money! Funny, because the farm will be on the market soon and I know he'd be thrilled by the price it will bring!

Second, July 25 was Harry's eleventh gotcha day, and August 10 will be the Kitty's third gotcha day. 😊

And finally, I am so disgusted with the ANC and UNC duopoly. 😩 (That's the autocratic national committee and the undemocratic national committee.) Ugh. How did we get into this dystopia?

I saw the most reprehensible hit piece on RFK jr. from CBS by Major Garret. I'm not sure whether his name is spelled correctly, but who cares. The promo and six minute excerpt were awful -- clearly displaying a biased agenda. It was an inaccurate summary of the full interview, deliberately misleading, outrageous editing, just plain misinformation. I watched the full interview before seeing the hit piece, and the full interview of over an hour was not bad. CBS and Major are unethical and should be ashamed -- afraid of losing corrupt corporate sponsors I guess.

A long time ago -- about 45 years or so, there were things I "knew" or at least suspected: Both idealistic things and cynical things. This drove my decision to be an independent, rather than a member of a major political party. I still knew these things 35 years ago and 25 years ago and 15 years ago, but gradually over time, the vibrancy of that idealism and cynicism faded. To quote Billy Joel's song Angry Young Man, "just surviving is a noble fight." So while I remain idealistic and I believe in advocacy, I have become complacent. Within the past year, again gradually but building up steam as weeks have past, I have become energized by Kennedy's campaign for president. I feel as if I have been unplugged from the Matrix. I know things again, more deeply than 45 years ago. More to come.

 I am not "childless." I am "childfree."

I'm having to put in a few hours every day for a week or so on administrative tasks associated with my job. It's a bit more than my routine daily email (which admittedly can be quite time-consuming). I get a small stipend to do it, and it isn't a big deal, but it is reminding me of the looming semester six weeks away! 😳😳😳

Many things to write about but they will keep for another day.

It is so hot!!! 🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞

 July already. I just finished reading Dead Wake, a 2015 book about the Lusitania. It was excellent. Next I am going to read Knife.

My cold is somewhat over I guess, but the symptoms linger. I feel like I could blow my nose for three hours straight and still could keep at it.

Yesterday my cold was dreadful! I am thinking of my father, and how during all the hurricane news coverage, he described his cold as "category 5." 😊 He was always so funny.

 I have a cold! It's not Covid. I have not been sick since before the pandemic. I think the extreme heat and poor air quality are making it worse. 😒

Visited the cemetery yesterday. 😢😢😢😢😢
 

More about Friday's post: I typed the guy's name into google, and while clicking the funeral home obituary link does indeed result in a 404 error message, the Legacy link works fine. So -- no need for Wayback Machine, and asking for the deletion was even more "stupid criminal" foolish than I thought. I hope the case is solved and this forgotten soul gets the justice she deserves.

I love the mention of the Wayback Machine in this article! The unnamed family member did something quite stupid (and suspicious) in asking the funeral home to delete the obituary. This is a story that really piques my "detective" nature. More here.

June already. This is the third anniversary of George's death. Time goes by in a snap of your fingers.

I've been doing some thinking about whether writing publicly (as in a blog or on social media) is empowering or stifling. This is a question I remember being extensively discussed on blogs 20+ years ago. I could argue "empowering" because I have managed to keep this e-journal for over 22 years -- something I was never able to do in the days of handwritten or typed "private" journals (scare quotes because sometimes it was an assignment, read by a teacher or professor). I could also argue "stifling," because I absolutely self-censor, even though I have never tried to promote this blog and so the audience is small.

On social media, Bob has decided to be brave and make some political posts about Kennedy. I think it is admirable, even though I cannot do much more than click "like." I have PTSD from my days on the village board. People were so rude. To maintain peace, I can't engage in a lot of discourse. His shares have resulted in the blue-no-matter-who crowd commenting, in what I perceive as an effort to get him to delete posts and shut up.

An outrage on the news is the daily coverage of Belmont -- the race is being held at Saratoga this year, due to construction. It was bad enough that Saratoga has added race days in recent years. Now we have to hear the constant media gushing even earlier this summer over what amounts to animal abuse, due to Belmont.

We saw the last of the ten movies that were nominated for best picture: the Killing of the Flower Moon. It was good, although a difficult story. I can now say with assurance that "Poor Things" was the worst of the ten -- in fact it was much worse than that, and no way should best actress or anything else have gone to it. It was nothing more than a creepy celebration of abuse, and that simple fact renders good performances or make up or whatever meaningless.

The grades are in! YAY.

Today is the 9th anniversary of Donna's death.

I'm deeply emerged in grading. It's still early, but so far it is going OK. My biggest issue is that I am "broken" if I work intensely for more than six hours or so. That makes meeting the deadline (of Mother's Day!) much more stressful.

A few days ago, I had another brief dream with my father in it. This one felt more like a dream than ADC. He was young (maybe 45-50), talking continuously, telling stories. I sensed my mother may have been there too? Or maybe she was in the stories?

On Saturday, Bob & I went to the East Greenbush library and signed a petition for RFK Jr. to appear on the NYS ballot in November. 

Today, I am taking care of details related to the spring semester.

 Yesterday was a good day! Usually Thursdays are draining (long day), but yesterday was great. Whether my mood was helped by it being my last teaching day until the Fall semester or that my classes were engaged -- or maybe both, who knows. There are deadlines next week for students for some minor assignments and then it's a deep dive into grading.

This has been a tiring week. Classes end April 30, grades are due May 12, and so I had a huge amount to do, caused somewhat by 4/10 & 4/12, when I had to get my haircut and work on the taxes. (How dare you?) The good news for me is that there is light at the end of the tunnel: For the first time since 2001, I am not teaching in the summer. YAY.

While I surely don't agree with him on everything, I do on enough things to be motivated to vote, and I find the media opposition appalling. Here is my recruitment link. I'd stay home otherwise. Certainly not going to vote for the lying, misogynist grifter under any circumstanced, and I just cannot support the tired old leadership of (admittedly) the lesser of two evils candidate. Why are these two husks running?

Toward morning I had a vivid dream about my father. I would classify this one as an actual after death communication. I was sitting in a large bathroom. That's funny, because lamenting about going to the bathroom (the "Giuliano curse"), and bathroom humor were 100% my father. The room appeared to be in an unfinished log house. He was standing behind or in a cabinet. He was only visible from the waist up. I didn't recognize him at first. I thought, what is that man doing in here? Then it dawned on me that it was him and I started urgently repeating, while reaching my arms towards him, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" He was wearing the tee-shirt he has on in the photo below, although in the ADC he was younger; his hair was a little salt & pepper but mostly black, and he looked about 60 (in this photo he was in his early 70s). He was not wearing glasses. He looked right at me and spoke directly, saying "I have things to do." My father was often hilarious, but he could be deeply serious as well. It felt real, like I was not sleeping, and when I woke up, I had tears in my eyes. I wished the experience had not ended and that we could talk more. I wondered, am I keeping him from what he needs to do? Is our family's profound grief doing that? If so, I'm sorry. I can't help it. I miss him so.

 An earthquake, an aftershock today (I only felt the aftershock) and an eclipse on Monday! 

Mimmie died 31 years ago today. 😔

Easter was nice. My brother hosted a brunch. It was my first large (32), mostly indoor gathering since 2019 (or very early 2020). So much has happened since then. It's a good thing we live mostly not knowing what is coming.

 Three years ago today, the best dog I've ever had died. I've had many great dogs; the current three are awesome too and I love (and miss) them all, but Rosie was perfect in every way. RIP little tiny circus dog.

Bob and I have been watching all the Academy Award nominated movies - a bigger task now that they have increased Best Picture to ten. We have two left in that category. On Saturday during the snowstorm, we watched Poor Things. Neither of us was very impressed by it. I'll say that about the first 3/4 held my attention (then it seemed too long to me; Bob felt it "jumped the shard" when she went from naive to calculating). What irritated me was that it felt like an effort to normalize abuse. Abuse is not funny or cute. Hollywood usually is a proponent of cancel culture. The acting was fine, but about Bext Actress, ten minutes into the movie, all I could think of was this non-PC but apt scene.

 I guess because of my prior post, last night I had a dream with my father in it. He was talking fluently, and I was thrilled. He was eating ice cream. My mother was briefly in the dream too.

Today is March 13. In one month, it will be April 13, my father's birthday. He would be 97 this year. I miss him enormously every day, but his birthday and the approach of spring are incredibly hard. He loved the number 13 and his birthday.😭

I was feeling sort of unmotivated and "blue" yesterday (Thursday is my long teaching day). I didn't have a good attitude and negatively assumed my afternoon class would not be prepared (a team of four was presenting). What actually happened...they were amazing and did a really good job! 😊

Spring forward tomorrow. I hate it! 😟

Why can't we stay on Standard time year round?

 What an a-hole! Full disclosure, I don't know her at all, nor did she ever represent me, but I have met him and I live in the county.

 Approaching the 22nd anniversary on Friday of this blog. Usually I forget to post something. Friday is also the sixth anniversary of Uncle Buddy's death. :-(

 Four weeks into the semester...my class today was brain dead. Absolutely disengaged.

 I watched the Grammies for the first time -- maybe ever. I dislike awards shows. I'm turned off by the hype. But I enjoyed most of the 3.5 hours! The next day I was surprised to learn that others said 1) that they watch it often and thought it was the best one in years; or haven't watched in years but did this year and enjoyed it.

New buzzwords currently in fashion: Weaponize, Existential, Guardrails. Wheelhouse seems to have disappeared.

I have two thoughts that are apropos today: "Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!" (Sir Walter Scott, 1808) and "No good deed goes unpunished." (Various attributions; similar sentiment dates to 12th C.).

 After being annoyed by the awful revised mascot image, I'm very pleased that the athletics department has stepped up to help with this horrible situation.

Each of my three classes has met once at this point. It's gratifying that so many students every semester who have taken a class with me in the past sign up for another. I guess I am still an engaging teacher. It's easy to fall into self doubt.

 In the last post I wrote about wanting to draw or write this idea. On Saturday, after two years of no drawing, I picked up my pencils.

I have an idea for a satire cartoon or short story based on this article and pending village elections. Revitalize Main Street! Like Castleton's cats, how about Castleton's rats? Oh I am itching to write and draw. This is why I am excited to not teach this summer.

 Classes start this week. My first class is Thursday. Boo hoo. Winter break over. Not that it was much of a break, but not teaching for a few weeks is good, and I did get to do a few thing, such as read. Unfortunatly, I have gradually returned to my preferred mode of staying up late and sleeping in, so now I have to mend my ways.

We watched another hyped movie on Saturday: Maestro. Neither of us liked this one much either! Again, acting was fine, but it felt too long, confusing, difficult to hear, with a story line that focused too much on his sex life and too little on other more interesting aspects of his biography. Recently friends have been recommending "Killers of the Flower Moon," but after Oppenheimer and Maestro, I'm reluctant to invest over three hours...

I joined No Labels. Wonky snarky self-important pundits who diss the idea can go F themselves.

I didn't note here yesterday that it was the two-year anniversary of Daddy's death. Not that I didn't think about him all day. I did. I think about him all the time, every day. Two years, two weeks, two months, two minutes -- or many more years than two, it hardly matters. I am not an unrealistic person, but two words I never wanted to type...Daddy's death.

 What an impressive speech! Go Liz!

I'm trying hard to be optimistic and to have faith that good always wins. It's hard to not be infuriated by Sinclair media (owner of our local CBS news station). It's always been my favorite local station because of the anchors and especially due to the weather, but over time Sinclair has insidiously inserted more and more of their national coverage, slipping in blatant bias and featuring election deniers like that nut Jordan. Last night there was a promotion for an offensive story where a woman said something like "it's crazy that you get a ticket for parking in a handicap parking spot but not for being caught with fentanyl." Putting aside the veracity of that statement (which is a false equivalency), parking in a spot intended for a person with disabilities is not something to be dismissed. What an ignorant, disrespectful b*tch. F you Sinclair. And speaking of election denying nuts, the member of congress who was gerrymandered to be my representative calls the criminals who attacked the Capitol "hostages," just like her cult master.

Last night Daddy made a brief appearance in my dreams (he was young, and wearing a striped sweater - uncharacteristic) and the night before I dreamed of Uncle Buddy, who had two unknown ~10-year-old kids with him, a boy and a girl.

This weekend we got a real snow storm! As Bob said, "it's good to see the Earth is still working."

Friday was Bob's 64th birthday. He wanted to go to Red Lobster. It's kind of a hard place to go for a vegetarian, but they have wonderful Brussels sprouts, and I got a salad. He got an unlimited feast.

This is chilling. It's obvious from current times, but I noticed hints and was disturbed by it among young people 15 years ago in toleration class.

I just heard the president of Harvard resigned. It's about time. The headline said it was due to plagiarism claims and her congressional hearing performance. I agree her responses at the hearing were appalling (and interlocutor Stefanik's behavior was also appalling), but what outraged me is that she is a plagiarist with no shame -- and somehow landed a prestigious academic job.

 Happy New Year!

I've been thinking about writing. I have some ideas and I want to start seriously writing again, but I'm not sure winter break will afford me enough time. I am not teaching this summer (for the first time in over 20 years) and that is when I plan to take a deep dive.