Month: January 2026

The forecast for tonight- dark. George Carlin

A Wrinkle and a Wonder a Week #12

a wrinkle

Extreme weather is the norm.  “Baby it’s cold (Windchill  -40)  outside.”  or “You could fry an egg on the blacktop.” And surprise! Let’s get rid of staff and agencies that help to predict the weather and issue weather warnings, because they are a “waste” of money. Would someone please explain to Trump what global warming means? Never mind, he’s low I.Q..  My anxiety magnet, you know the anxiety that can hover around the edges of life, is activated by bad weather.  I’m no longer that little girl who hopes for snow days so I can stay home from school and look forward to building snow forts and snowmen. When it was too hot, I stayed in the shade or splashed in water. I don’t have to worry about digging out to go to work anymore, but cabin fever is a real condition. It’s the difference  between being warm and cozy, and just being stuck inside. I don’t like being stuck anywhere. What if I need help or I can’t get out or no one can get to me? I live alone and I feel more vulnerable the older I get. The “what ifs’ increase exponentially. What if my air conditioner breaks down and I can’t afford to get a new one? What if high winds, temperatures and drought converge to cause raging urban fires. What if I slip on the ice and am injured? I know I can’t control the weather, but I don’t want the weather to control me. It’s a battle I can’t win. Yes, I have hired someone to shovel my driveway and mow my yard, and he’s great, but I have to depend on someone else. In short, bad weather can create a crisis and I don’t need more crisis as I navigate this stage of my life. And guess what? I have to accept the weather, good and bad.  I can’t change it. When I  resist and rage at the weather,  I am the only one who suffers. My attitude has got to change, and I struggle with that because fear can cement my bad attitude.

a wonder

I live in beautiful Colorado with almost 300 days of sunshine a year. This is part of the reason I live here, a geographic “cure”.  Even with the relatively mild weather, at least compared to Iowa, we still have snow, high winds, floods and dangerous heat, and on top of that we have high wildfire danger. I can and do  take steps to plan for and mitigate threats caused by extreme weather.  At the same time I have worked on creating a backyard haven where I can enjoy the good weather comfortably and safely. The table, chairs and umbrellas on my deck and patio protect me from the hot sun. My landscaping is always a work in progress. I work with the weather and climate and xeriscape my yard so I don’t need to water much at all.  I think I do what I can do, but I still struggle with feeling vulnerable. It’s a fact that the the weather is getting worse because of climate change, so sticking my head in the sand is not helpful. I search for a balance between a pragmatic response to climate change and a “The sky is is falling.” approach, but I do  believe we are closer to a climate catastrophe. I always come back to how important having a support system and being a member of a community is pivotal to my mental health and personal safety. I wrote last week about the value of good neighbors. I can ask for help and support. Whatever fears I have, including those about bad weather, can be shared and validated. I don’t need to hide my vulnerabilities, and we can support each other with the  practicalities of dealing with bad weather. If you see me singing and dancing in the rain or ambushing my neighbors with snowballs from my  snow fort, I could be making friends with the weather. Or a little crazy!

a Wrinkle 

I’m not Mr. Rogers, but several of my neighbors have decided they don’t want to be my neighbors any more.  U-Haul trucks and cardboard boxes are plentiful on my street. I’ve stayed for over 30 years and my neighbors come and go. I’m feeling kinda blue and not sure I have the words to explain myself. The view out my kitchen window is changing again, different people, cars, dogs etc. Of course I really miss my doggie neighbors when they leave. I have waves of sadness seeing empty yards formerly occupied by my canine friends.   I witness these changes and wonder if I’m just the nosy old lady in the neighborhood. Not a flattering look for me. I’ve had several people on my block tell me they see me walking my dogs everyday and they take comfort in the regularity and routine of seeing me. Wow. I’m an inspiration and I didn’t know it. On bad days I think this is what’s left for me as others leave and go on with their glorious  lives!  A big move for people my age is into assisted living. I think for me it’s all about being left behind and feeling invisible. The grass may not be greener in the next yard, but at least those who move out have the chance to see a different yard. Young people are mobile as they become adults, as school and work may keep them on the move. And then there are those awful neighbors that have made my life more difficult (a living hell) at times. It also pains me to know that there really is little I can do to remedy the “bad neighbor” situation. The police and many HOA boards refuse to get involved until someone is physically hurt or property destroyed. Too little, too late. 

I’ve experienced “good” neighbors being driven out of the neighborhood by intolerable neighbors. In spite of these risky situations, I still want the opportunity to be part of a neighborhood community.

a Wonder

I  think that feeling sad when my neighbors move away is a good sign that I made a connection, and our lives intersected in some meaningful way. I’ve  helped  them and they so generously have helped me. Saying hello and chatting with my neighbors is an important anchor for me. I’ve enjoyed having young adults and young families as my neighbors. It reminds me that there  are hopeful beginnings. I don’t want to be just the old lady next door. The kids next door have addressed me by name,“Hi Danita!”, ever since they were toddlers. It feels good to not be addressed as  “Hey Lady”.When a snowstorm buries us, shoveling out almost becomes a party as we all venture out of our houses. When the HOA board is being  an asshole we can band together to commiserate . A few neighbors have brought me joy because they have left! Even in these circumstances I’ve felt a sense of unity with my neighbors who suffer with me . As I stand at  my kitchen sink,  the view from my window is a kaleidoscope  of life. Kids are playing, dogs are being walked,  neighbors are saying hello as they get into their cars to head to work and  U-Haul trucks are being loaded almost ready to leave the neighborhood. I wonder if Joe found a new job, or how Mari feels after getting thru COVID. I tell those who are moving out good luck. When the neighbors who have become my friends leave I cry and am grateful they were in my life. I stay and soon I will welcome new neighbors who will, I hope,  bring joy to my days.  I remember: “I don’t need a mansion if I have good neighbors.”

a wrinkle

This is my State of the Union Address. Trauma. Everyday, all day. I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder ( PTSD) so for me this is no exaggeration or hyperbole. The assault is relentless and constant. Trump and his MAGA minions are doing or saying threatening, hateful and cruel things every hour of everyday. There are so many distressing things going on in our country, politically, fiscally, socially and within our world alliances, so there is much fodder for trauma and outrage. I can’t seem to ignore the siege of Minneapolis and the death of Renee Gold.   What if it is really as bad as I think it is?  My body and mind are responding the same way I responded to traumas I’ve experienced in the past. So I think  this is easy to address: stop watching or reading any media and live under a rock in complete isolation. That should work. I know there are other alternatives, but I am having a difficult time figuring out how to navigate from living in total denial to being triggered with no relief. I am a person who wants to know what is going on, who wants to be informed. I am intensely curious. And because I suffer from PTSD,  I tend to be  hyper-vigilant, scanning my environment for threats and danger. “Danger, danger Will Robinson”, for those of us old enough to remember. In short, what a perfect political environment to feed my fears and offer no reprieve.   I know I’m not the only person who shares my fears, perhaps I am not overreacting, but maybe I should just shut up, develop an attitude of who cares and learn to unsee what I see. It can’t get any worse can it? Don’t answer that!

a wonder 

Trauma is cumulative. What is going on now? What’s the trouble? Can’t relax because everything is coming at me at once with  no time to rest and restore myself . My hope is my coping skills are cumulative too. I can add on to what works to help me respond to trauma in a better way.  I can draw on what I have learned from past traumas. I am talking about resilience; which is the ability to become healthy, strong and successful after trauma.  I get up one more time than I fall down. I rest when I need to and find comfort and nurture where it is. I limit my social media/ news media time and stop watching or following a couple of hours before bed time. It’s the stuff of insomnia and nightmares. I read a lot of fiction and escape into stories. When I am feeling particularly powerless I try to find one small thing I can do, like writing this post, or making a sign to use at the protest I am going to. I hit the streets to peacefully take action  and raise my voice with my fellow resisters. When the news is particularly dire, I cry. And sometimes nothing seems to work and I have to tell myself to just hang on. It may not be pretty,  but I will get through this and this too shall pass. My rage is the emotion that can consume me. Hate can and does sneak in if I’m not careful. It is so seductive! In the meantime, I could learn some new swear words, and  spend  time on Zillow looking for a cozy little home under a rock with no WiFi, T.V.or phone service….

A WRINKLE and a WONDER a Week #9

a Wrinkle

“Sorry I’m late, I lost track of time.” We all remember when we’ve looked at the clock and thought, “I can’t believe it’s that’s time already!” Getting older has really put the concept of time front and center in my life, especially thinking about how much time I have left and how much time I’ve wasted! Everyday I think I just need some more time, and then I can hear the Universe laughing at me. How I am spending my time determines how joyful and meaningful my life is. Whining and complaining are a waste of my limited time. Doing things I don’t want to do, but think I should do —another waste of time. People pleasing and trying to be perfect -you guessed it, another waste of time. Yet, I’m guilty of choosing any or all  of these options much too often. Some things simply require a certain amount of time. I have to wait 15 minutes for my Covid rapid test results.  Baking something for too short a time makes for inedible food. Self checkout is quicker, but I still have to wait for a scanner to be free. I spend a lot of time waiting. “I had a great time waiting today.” said no one ever.  All of us have to spend some time doing things we don’t want to do in order to keep our lives going smoothly: cleaning house, putting gas in our cars, buying diapers and groceries, getting our bills paid, getting colonoscopies, etc…. Unless we can pay someone to do those things for us, but there’s still the colonoscopy we have to do for ourselves. I make time for preventative health exams in hopes I’ll earn more time for my total  life span. Can I really save time or take time?  It seems the only thing about time that I can control is how I decide to use it. Time has speeded up and the years pass so quickly now. I could barely wait for Santa Claus, it was such a  long time to wait, but now I worry that I’m not paying attention to all the wonderful moments that present to me.  Too soon it will be “Time’s up!”

a Wonder

Death comes for everyone. As I experience the loss of family members and friends I am reminded my time is finite. I’m not immortal and I’m not sure I really want to be. Can I make a bargain with time?  Time makes no deals, with anyone. When it’s time it’s time. I need to  hold the fragility of life in my mind, while choosing how I spend my days. I can’t make more time, but I can make better time. Spending time on B when I really want to spend more time on A is my choice. I can’t do 2 things at once. As Red says in “Shawshank Redemption”, “You’re either busy livin’ or busy dyin’.” And I remind myself that this life is not a rehearsal,  it’s opening night and closing night rolled into one, and it’s all improv!  When I’m reading, writing  and crafting I tend to get so focused that I’m not paying attention to time passing, but I think this is the opposite of wasting time.  I’m using up time, but I’m also nourishing myself, filling myself up. I want more of life in my days no matter how many days I have left. I’ve learned a few things about time management even if it’s more like time manages me.  I try to avoid calling any medical or business office on Mondays, unless I want to live my life “on hold “ or “on speaker”. I  have more flexibility as a retired person, so often I can avoid the busy times or  put myself on wait lists for openings.  Mastering online business or portals really does speed things up. Keep it simple, less clutter, less stuff to pay attention to and waste time on. If I have to wait for something I read or walk around. If there’s a quicker and easier way to get something done, I want to know about it. I have my connections with helpful people who I know I can trust. Knowing who to talk to saves a lot of time. Please don’t make me tell my story again! I’ll count myself lucky, if when I get to the pearly gates, I get to tell St.Peter, “Sorry I’m late, I lost track of time.”