The Burrow

(Written on Tuesday) Yesterday was Labor Day.  Today there were more than 100 degrees dancing through Tucson.   TBG needed a sweatshirt at lunch; he's happily taking his hormonally challenged temperature regulator out these days.  I wore a short-sleeved, light knit sweater and cotton shorts; black shorts, not the white skirt I left hanging in my closet.    I really like that skirt.  I spent all summer wishing I were wearing it, but it is not a comfortable sitting in the hospital skirt.  Now, when I have the time and the company, the calendar is screwing with me. I wear outfits that Little Cuter describes as Mom, the world needs more people like you ... through her laughter.  If it's comfortable I'll wear it, no matter that I bought it for Big Cuter when we were same size (he was in 5th grade).  I'm not really a trendy girl. But there are certain things that were repeated over and over again when I was a little girl, and the one abou...

After a short and annoyingly uncomfortable dermatological intersection with cryosurgery, my body and I are taking the day off to recover from the trauma. 

This is what it looked like at the end. It seemed fairly simple.  There were perforated lines to guide the scissors. Fold and pull.... I can do that. Or, perhaps not. I'm not that strong; the corner came off quite easily. Unfortunately, the gel cap was still stuck. The scissors made a careful slice around the raised plastic bubble. Not just to the edge, but all the way around. And then I had to separate the backing from the bump, which I discovered required the use of the scissors. Those edges were sharp.  I tried to use my fingers to separate the layers.    Pause for a bandaid. The initial dose is two caplets.  I examined the situation more closely and realized that I was supposed to pull the piece I'd folded.  In doing so, it revealed that it was attached to the paper covering the gel cap and was perfectly capable of revealing the damn thing if I'd only follow directions. This is what it looked like from the other side. There's no way I could have anticip...

One of my favorite holiday posts, recycled year after year.  Enjoy yourselves... even if just for a moment.   My Zaydeh was a paperhanger. So was his son, my Uncle Paul. They belonged to the Paperhanger's Union. When he retired, my Zaydeh got a lapel pin and a photograph of himself and the also-retiring Union Rep. The Union Rep got a pension and health insurance. No one knows if he got a copy of the photograph, too. It was that kind of complicated relationship to Labor, with a capital L, that dominated my growing up years. Daddooooo's father owned a business. G'ma's father was a worker. That dynamic influenced their relationship in the same way that her parents' accented speech and his parents' religious devotion were there, bruising the edges of what must once have been love but wasn't anymore. I sat on my Zaydeh's shoulders as he bounced me around the living room, singing Zum Gali Gali , a Zionist work song with one line, repeated over and over: the pi...

With temperatures in the 90's and no rain in the forecast, it was tine to reopen the garden..  A substitute teacher decided that it was her job to prune the mandarin orange tree.  This little one is deep watering the remains. The big shovel and the trowels were handy for digging, and the wheelbarrow was primed for traveling.....  once they found the wheels. Without much instruction, they set to work weeding and turning over the beds. We have serious weeds and roots. The garden scholars reminded me, once again, that it's impossible to be sad when surrounded by little ones.  They are the best therapy on the planet.

It's been a marvelous monsoon this year.  Days of rain, nights of lightning and thunder and more rain, drizzles on the occasional afternoon - it's a monsoon to revel in. It also makes taking photos from the car somewhat challenging.  But, stopped at a long traffic light at a busy intersection, I found something worth memorializing.   I have been wondering how to counter the giant Ciscomani signs polluting our streets. Someone had a great idea.  These are now appearing all over town.  Subtle.  Snarky.  Eye catching.  It makes me very happy.