The Burrow

This week is our anniversary. We've lived in Tucson for 5 years. In that time we've learned to tolerate extremes in temperatures and political opinions.  We've tasted Sonoran Hot Dogs and tepary beans.  We've gone nearly 100 days without rain and we've been unable to leave our neighborhood because the access roads are flooded.  It snowed here that first February, while I was wearing shorts on Long Island.  It's certainly a place with pointy edges. Hardly anything that grows anywhere else I've ever lived can grow here... unless one is willing to invest constant care and attention and irrigation.  I thought I might be that person, but after killing the magnolia tree within a week of bringing it home that first August, I changed my mind.  I was in floral lust and I needed those thick green leaves and that fabulous white flower and the scent.... oh, the scent.  But I forgot that this was not Marin or Chicago or New York and I didn't realize that here i...

I'd spent one too many nights in the Emergency Room with her. This was the second time she'd gotten caught in the blankets and rolled off the couch. Enough. Finished. Comfort be damned (kinda sorta) - a change had to be made. Brother and Niece, the Youngest and I took her to Lazy-Boy and bought the top of the line, fully automatic, helps you stand up, reclines nearly flat electric chair. It's blue, like her eyes. She thought it was fun..... in the store. That was a month ago. Since then, I have written a variety of notes hoping to explain the UP/DOWN toggle switch on the chair's remote control. It's counter-intuitive.... or opposite.... or obvious..... but it's just not working for G'ma. It's not entirely her fault. See if you don't agree. UP means the foot rest goes up and, when it is fully extended, the seat back reclines. DOWN raises the seat back, lowers the foot rest, and raises the seat-back-assembly to assist you as you stand ...

Big Cuter mentioned that he really liked these posts. After all these months of feeling guilty for foisting snippets upon you, my willing readers, my kid tells me that he thinks they are some of my best posts. Really. Is it because they are like spending an afternoon with me, my brain flitting from one subject to another, with my listeners barely able to keep up since I don't announce when I am changing paragraphs? Apparently. I'm perfectly clear on where I am and where I am going and yet the men in my life often have issues when they try to keep up. Seret and The Bride and I once sent TBG into the bedroom with a headache.... we never finished a topic before moving on to the sidebar which was more fascinating at the time and yet we always knew what we were talking about even if he didn't. They are just wired differently. That's all. No judgment implied. ***** I'm wondering why the world hasn't exploded. Economic chaos is predicted and yet no one ...

JannyLou called today. She told me that she was having fun for the first time since January. There was lightness in her voice and a joy behind the words that has been absent of late, given shootings and chemotherapy and such. But this morning she was filled with glee. JenniJazz returned from Vegas to find good news on all the many medical fronts she and Mr. Jazz are facing. Her post about the adult playground and her ability to enjoy herself was inspiring and encouraging and real. She's been sharing her sad times, too, y'see. I tend to believe the happy as much as the blue. It seems only fair. Diane Lane's Penny Chenery Tweedy has an epiphany while washing Secretariat it shows up at 2:15" into this video,which, if you don't want to invest 2 hours in the movie itself, shows all the highlights, including John Malkovich's plaid shorts at around 1:30".   She moves from chaos, worry, loss and confusion to perfect peace, with a smile on her face ...

Sometime in February, TBG surprised me by asking if I was prepared for the day when I was no longer the center of attention. He didn't have evil intentions in asking it that way, though I can see how you could read it that way. He was merely speaking the truth. I was the center of attention whether I asked to be or not. I'd been shot and my friends and family needed to look at me and reassure themselves that I still existed in this world. After that, there was a universal need to protect me. Some had an easier time than others in letting me fend for myself, but no one ever minded bringing me a snack or recharging my phone or handing me the flowery paper gift sack that held the stationary and pens. It was nice for me to ask because people really wanted to help. When I didn't ask, they tried to find things to do on their own. Heidi reorganized my closet. The Ballerina and I got our nails done. Reggie walked up and down the aisles of Target. The list goes on a...

I slept like a baby last night. No alarms were needed to wake me because my first appointment of the day wasn't until 9:45am. I like to be well rested before Marcus the Master Manipulator gets his hands on my psoas; it makes the pain more bearable somehow. I am constantly reminded of the fact that rehab is hard. It is unlike my normal workouts. I usually push myself to the very edge and then I stop. PT involves finding that edge and breathing through it to the other side. The fact that crossing the boundary involves deep, piercing, sharp, oxygen stealing sensations seems to be of concern only to me, lying and moaning on the table. Marcus just keeps pulling or pushing or stretching or holding, a quirky little smile in the right corner of his mouth as he reminds me to breathe . If I could reach him, I'd push him away. But my body is glued to the table, trying to relax as my psoas is massaged and pressed and prodded and released and then Marcus stands back, crosses h...

Seems like this is my summer of other people's kids. I have all of the joy and none of the worry. I have all of the love and none of the angst. It's really kind of perfect. Mr. 5 is now Mr. 6 and Mr. 7 is now Mr. 8... as they remind me with ever increasing ire as time passes and my brain refuses to make the change. They're not babies any more; they are school kids, with all the attitude that implies. When not enveloped in a video screen, their willingness to confide and share and tease includes me in their family circle. They may not be mine by blood, but their mother is my person here in Tucson and that must count for something. It certainly does as far as they are concerned. They are no longer easily distracted with Leggos; me just searching the box for missing heads or weapons isn't enough any more. We play games with rules - Uno, Guess Who - and I am a full participant. It's more challenging than reading a magazine as I made a desultory effort to l...

Let me start by reminding you that the entire concept of social media is beyond me these days. I've never tweeted nor read a tweet and I only know about them because they make the news. Something I was doing was a good idea for a flash mob and that began to creep me out .... my behavior is mob-like? I'm not the mayor of any of my favorite haunts and I only joined Facebook so that I could see the pictures of the kids' vacations. The fact that I attended a Meet Up thrills me no end Then, of course, there's Becca, mother of 2, owner of a brand new fancy camera, and guiding light behind these Tucson events. The last one was painting Ben's Bells and I carried the glow with me for weeks. This one was another way to improve our community and ourselves and Amster and Elizabeth and a few other friends and I were in, $10 for the certification card included. Our instructors were connected to Save a Life  and they were perfect. This retired fire fighter is showing u...

We had rain. Lots and lots of rain. Marcus saw a rainbow but no lightning and his parched ground has not received a drop of water all month. This is what it is like to live in Tucson in the summer. You don't call Tucson your year-round home if you hate the heat. Upon typing that, I thought of the one exception I know - my manicurist, who loves her husband who lives here with his extended family, but that's as far as she'll go. Along with the heat, she's not that crazy about his family, either. For some reason, she prefers the humidity and marginally lower temperatures of her native Viet Nam. Her OB gave her pills because she's not drinking enough water to keep her and her fetus well hydrated. I brought her a Camelback. Along with our purple Christina-Taylor bracelets and our turquoise Gabby bracelets Tucsonans sport another accessory - bottled water. It's a different kind of dryness when the temperatures are well into the triple digits and the...

It was 0-0 at the half. By our count, the US had taken at least 12 shots on goal, a dozen or more opportunities to score over the shorter Japanese team.  Yet the score was 0-0. There were set pieces unconverted and headers hitting the poles.  I hear Little Cuter's Hungarian coach shouting banana  as he cued them to line up in front of the corner kicks, just as the US team was doing on the small screen before me. She shoots, they move, and the score is still 0-0. This just should not be. Scoring opportunities are rare in soccer; to have had so many and completed so few boggles the minds of spectators and commentators alike. Perhaps it was due to the ice on Lauren Cheney's ankle as she hobbled out for the start of the second half. When one of your strikers is playing on a bum wheel you might be less likely to score. Perhaps there's no need to worry. Alex Morgan ran onto the field with her fresh young legs beneath her but even then the ball refused to go into t...

Baseball is a sport which should be played outside.  Watching the All Star Game (or The ASG  as the cognoscenti would have it) at Chase Field was cool and comfortable and weird.  There was a small city under that roof, with chairs for everyone who lived in my hometown.  There was grass and there was dirt and there were birds and we were inside and comfortable and it felt very strange. Of course, I'm not sure that we'd have been at the game at all had it been outside; the temperature hit triple digits when we entered and was not much cooler when we left ***** I haven't seen G'ma in a while; I forgot that she was my destination yesterday afternoon and ended up at the grocery store instead.   I think I'm avoiding dealing with her electric chair .  The caregivers are amused by the fact that she forgets about the footrest and the reclining back.  They find her sitting upright with her feet propped on her walker.  She says she's comforta...

I could write about crying on television.... once again.... with feeling... or about the loss of Christina and the strength of her family.  I could write about ripping band aids off slowly healing emotional wounds.  I could. But I'm refusing to walk down that path today.  The sun is out, the road construction crews are still letting us leave the neighborhood, my Art History and The Cinema class  was outstanding and the USA has advanced to the final round of the Women's World Cup. Life is good. I walked all around Chase Field yesterday, from the player's parking lot through the rotunda and down to our seats and then back up for snacks, and that was after Imelda gave us the grand tour of her work place, and I showed nary a limp at all.  My hip was an after-thought, not the center of attention.  That's something new since the 8th of January. I don't need my left leg to lift my right leg onto the bed anymore.  I can do squats and I can balance on o...

(Written Tuesday morning, on the way to the All Star Game.) The last time I felt this down, this overwhelmed, this burdened by events, the President hugged me and urged me to look for our better angels.  When I cried that I couldn't imagine how anyone could be so angry, could perpetrate such a horror, Mr. Obama encouraged me to turn my back on that fury and rage and hate and to look for the America which Christina saw.   Then he went to McKale Center and said the same thing to the rest of the world. I began to realize that I was at the center of something really big.  The American spirit was center stage.  Who we are, how we cope, what our actions say about us ... the events of January 8th brought all of that into focus.   I don't have a need to consider the shooter.  He is who he is and what will be will be.  Vengeance gets me no place, that I know.  It can't be pleasant to be him right now.  I don't wish anyone ill, even he wh...

We had a fine morning, Little Cuter and I, laughing and planning for her wedding. How odd it is to type that sentence.  The big event has been a headache as venues and expenses and dresses and menus are considered and rejected and fretted over and wondered about.   She's not looking to be the center of attention.... which is a problem when you are the bride.... and he wants everyone they love to be there and celebrate with them.... and everything costs more money than is reasonable to spend for one evening's entertainment when there's a house to be purchased and a life to be planned.   But this morning was different.  This morning was fun.  Thanks to Major League Baseball the subject was exciting and giggle-filled and, for a moment, until it wasn't, it was solving a problem in a way that would put a smile on everyone's face. I'm getting ahead of myself, though.  I haven't told you how MLB became involved in party planning.   My inbox is filled ...

Anniversaries are strange things. Sometimes I wish I didn't notice them, but then I realize that fence posts give us boundaries in this fertile life field that we can safely stay within, or vault with gleeful defiance. Thank you, Nerthus , for that epigram.  It's exactly where I am right now. I could not go.  I just couldn't make myself get in the car and drive there.   Others were there; I saw them on tv.  I love them and I know they would have hugged me and comforted me and made me feel strong and powerful and happy to be alive.  But I could not go. The 9/11 flag is in Tucson as I sit here at my desk.  I could have been in the Safeway parking lot at 6:30 this morning to watch it fly from a hook-and-ladder.  Pat and Colonel Bill and Faith and Roger were caught by the cameras and the reporter mentioned that Pam was in the crowd but I couldn't do it. I couldn't get in the car.   There was a private, no media invited, flag folding cer...

I know that  the sun comes up each and every day. It pays no attention to how I feel. It's there, daring me to do something other than participate in the world around me. I know that  progress is never as fast as I want it to be. Worse, over time it is measured in smaller and smaller increments. I know that  other people are much more impressed with my abilities than I am. It's fortunate that three of them are as invested in my recovery as I am : Marcus the Master Manipulator and world's best physical therapist; Kirya Sabin, who learned from the master who learned from Joseph Pilates himself; and TBG, husband extraordinaire. Not one of them is inclined toward false compliments.  I know that  I wish it were easier to believe them I know that  the people who told me that “in 6 months you'll be fine” were right.... as far as they went. I am not great, but I am fine. I can do anything I want to do, albeit slowly and caut...

"I need you to come over right now," she said and I turned off the flame under the pot on the cooktop, said goodbye to TBG and The Schnozz and I were on our way. I did what needed to be done and stayed as long as I necessary and I reassured and comforted and then I came home to Douglas and a turkey sandwich and a warm feeling in my heart.  It's nice to be needed. I've spent the last 6 months being tended.  I've been fed and driven and hugged and sheltered and cosseted and today I was able to do the same for a friend.  It's nice to be on the other side of the equation. It wasn't particularly convenient for me to leave when she called.  I was in the middle of cooking dinner and I hadn't written this post and Big Cuter was going to call and none of it mattered because she needed me and I was able to respond.  Had this happened two months ago I'd have been useless.  I'd have listened and offered advice and a shoulder to sob on but getting up ...