dual personalities

Well, I had an annoying weekend where nothing I touched seemed to go right. But I did get this tablecloth at an estate along with a few books so I guess shrug emoji?

Whether or not it ends up in the hypothetical antique mall booth my mother and I want to start now that she’s retired remains to be seen. Speaking of her retirement, today is the day! After 19 or 20 years (depending on which celebratory vase you look at), she’s finally walking out the doors (metaphorically, these days) and won’t have to return.

I remember when my mother got her job–I was a senior in high school–which I guess makes me REAL OLD NOW. I used to come home and eat lunch with her but then she got the job and I don’t remember what I did for lunch after that. Probably worked on the yearbook or something equally reflective of my popularity. Anyway, over the years, I’ve enjoyed getting to know the students at OLLI via the stories I’d hear about them. One could write a tv show…but sadly Jerry Stiller died, so I don’t know who would star in it.

I am sure that the university will miss my mother’s steady hand at the helm of her program more than they realize now. Probably because she was so good at her job that they were barely aware of the program at all. That will change, no doubt. Likewise, we know the students will miss her because of those intangible skills that you can’t list on a resume: personality, understanding, ability to relate etc, etc, etc.

Anyway, a toast to my mother and this new chapter and a sayonara to her flyover university.

*Also, sorry I’ve had that Bob Dylan song in my head since yesterday’s post!

Last week, you will recall, I posted about my misadventures dealing with complex computer programs. By Friday, I needed a break, and as it turned out, I got one. The DH and I had to go to Plattsburgh to trade in our old CRV for a new one. After a pleasant two-hour drive, we arrived at the dealer’s to find everything ready for us. It all went astonishingly smoothly, at least until our salesperson tried to explain how the new car works. Indulge me while I give you a little backstory. I am partial to “obsidian blue pearl”, the color of our previous CRVs, and I wanted the new one to be the same color. (I’m not really that weird. The other options are gray and maroon).

Alas, Honda is discontinuing my color, so the only way to get the right one was to get the Hybrid CRV-ex. We rationalized that in settling for a fancier model, we would make ourselves happy, while helping to save the planet. But imagine my chagrin when I discovered that instead of a nice, straightforward CRV, we got the car with — I kid you not — a four-hundred and fifty page owner’s manual! So much for the relaxing, low-tech break.

So far, I’ve learned that the car, which has no key and no gear shift, does have automatic heated seats that you can program to return to your position after someone else has driven the car, automatic lane adjustment and BREAK NOW lights that flash at you if you get too close to the car in front, an automatic sun roof, and dual air-conditioning controls so that the driver and passenger can be separately comfortable. The car remembers me and will unlock with just the touch of my hand. It’s a little creepy. Heaven knows what else it does, but I have no intention of finding out. Trying to find a radio station nearly made me crash.

Although the car drives like a dream, I can’t help feeling that all the bells and whistles are extravagant, unnecessary bling. What, I ask you, does this excess say about our culture? Then again, what does it say about me that I chose a fancier car just to get the right color?

As you ponder those questions, consider another example of unnecessary, yet extremely beautiful, bling: life-size porcelain wedding shoes from 17^th century Iran.

Even if they’re impractical and would hurt your feet, at least you wouldn’t need to master an owner’s manual before wearing them.

Here I am, quoting from our daycare app’s “Teacher Notes” again. It’s only because they’re fascinating.

Sometimes I feel a little absurd following my sister’s posts, which include thoughtful literature and music references and display her myriad sewing skills, with these (albeit darling) baby posts. My deep and thoughtful updates include things like this: we clearly aren’t ready for pigtails yet, but we do manage to match our hair bows to our socks.

Well, what can I say. I really do enjoy getting Katie dressed every day, checking the daycare app for a rundown of her activities, and then taking her home for our nightly play and bath time. My new “mommy” lifestyle may not be deep, but my mother has assured me that it isn’t shallow, either.

Without further ado…

On Friday, we head to the pediatrician for a belated 12-month visit. Lots of shots, but also hopefully some interesting stats — perhaps a literal confirmation that “Katie is a big girl now!”

My mother is cleaning out her office as retirement approaches (next week!) and thus bringing home more books. Naturally, I am bringing some of these books into my apartment (which has no room for more books). I’ve even asked if I can get a bookshelf for my office at work! Anyway, one of the books is the Oxford Book of Quotations, which I perused this week while working on some remarks. I found this great Raymond Chandler line, which sadly, was not appropriate for what I was writing.

Interestingly, Bartlett’s Book of Quotations only had this:

Because of the new federal holiday (which Missouri decided to implement at the last minute) I had a long weekend. So, I made a blouse for myself. And it was good enough to wear to work today! I’m not sure if my co-workers thought the vibe was “Eileen Fischer chic” or more paper bag chic, but I liked it. I sewed in bias binding at the neck!

Recently, I needed something to read, so I picked up Bob Dylan’s Chronicles, which is just great. I find myself wanting to write down every other line, which does not make for efficient reading. That’s the great thing about surrounding yourself with books, you can just pick something up and read it. You’ll have a dusty house for sure, but I’ll take a little dust.

“The events of the day, all the cultural mumbo jumbo were imprisoning my soul–nauseating me–civil rights and political leaders being gunned down, the mounting of the barricades, the government crackdowns, the student radicals and demonstrators versus the cops and the unions–the streets exploding, fire of anger boiling–the contra communes–the lying, noisy voices–the free love, the anti-money system movement–the whole shebang.

I was determined to put myself beyond the reach of it all.”

–Bob Dylan

*A little Bob will always cures what ails you.

My goodness but it has been a busy, tiring and frustrating week. I’ve been attending an NEH seminar in digital history, via Zoom, and though I have learned something about data software and making maps in QGIS, I’m lucky if I understand half of what gets said. The instructors go so fast that by the time I’ve figured out what button to click, they’ve moved five steps ahead and lost me. Clearly, I’m too old for this. Today (Thursday) was so hard that I finally gave up, left the office, and bought myself a $3 present at a local antique/gift shop. It’s a Cobalt Netting Lomonosov tea cup and saucer, though it was made in Soviet, not Czarist, Russia. Pretty, isn’t it?

Having returned home and sipped tea from my new cup, I felt calmer, and if not quite ready to face new computer challenges, at least less inclined to scream or burst into tears.

Enough digital drama; let’s move on. I promised an update on our recent trip to Saratoga Springs, NY to celebrate our son James’s birthday. Tim and Tim’s girlfriend also joined us. We had a grand time exploring Saratoga, eating out, going to the movies, and socializing without masks! We visited Tim’s office at Skidmore,

and the house where a dying Ulysses S. Grant wrote his memoirs. It’s sad to think that the only way the former President could provide for his family’s future was to sell his past (so to speak). I can’t imagine how he managed to write anything coherent while dying of cancer. Now that’s heroic.

Our timing was off, so we didn’t get to go inside the house, but we did walk around the grounds that overlook the valley. The view is tremendous. The flagpole in the background of the next photo marks the spot of the last visit Grant made to the overlook a few weeks before he died. One can imagine him in his wheelchair gazing sadly over the farmland below.

When we weren’t sight-seeing or relaxing in the Airbnb, we found time to visit Tim and Abbie’s apartment in Glens Falls, where James and I tried out Tim’s virtual reality headset.

VR was not as odd as I thought it would be, and did not make me feel queasy the way shaky-cam movies or computer games do. One really does feel immersed in a world. I have to admit it was pretty cool.

That said, I will always feel more comfortable holding a pretty teacup or standing on a hillside pondering U.S. Grant than using any kind of machine, no matter what it can do. Real objects acquire a wear-and-tear patina that no computer can reproduce. Think about the people who, through repeated use, produced the mellow finish on your wooden furniture, the comfortable wear on your favorite upholstered chair, or the tiny chips on your china. History is present everywhere if only we would bother to notice, whereas the digital world must remain forever artificial. Yet, here I am uploading this post to that artificial world. Go figure.

In case you wondered, the DH was in Saratoga with us; he just managed to avoid the camera.

*Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

Here we are, nearly two weeks into our new normal, with Katie in daycare and me working from my campus office. We are all adjusting one way or another. For Katie, this means fewer tears, and even some smiles and waves at drop-off and pick-up. For us, this means fully internalizing every detail we learn about Katie’s day from her teacher’s notes. Above, a quote that made us laugh a lot, but also maybe pierced DN’s heart a little bit (as the one who prepares Katie’s food and packs her lunch).

We have noticed that Katie is always seated at the head of the table with her classmates (which now number five). Who knows why this is the case, but it feels oddly appropriate. She is doing just great.

Katie does benefit greatly from all of the space (flat, paved space) at daycare, where she can practice walking. We practice at home, too, but she makes it about 5 rapid steps with her walker before slamming into a wall. She’ll have to learn how to turn corners.

And my final announcement is that I can now manage to make a tiny ponytail with Katie’s hair. Sure, they never last a full day, but they bring me joy nonetheless. Just wait until we can do pigtails!