Inside my little bubble

So, since the last time I wrote, we’ve gone to war along with Israel, attacking Iran. What a combo, Netanyahu and Trump. Though I’ve recently starting reading Heather Delaney Reese on Substack, and they talk a lot about what a wreck Trump is, physically and mentally, and that actually only makes him more dangerous, not to mention it’s everything he said about Biden. I’ve also recently been told about how much Nazi content is available on Substack, that they are taking the position that they are only a platform and do not censor the content that users put there. I’m not seeing it, but I don’t look either. Everyone’s forgetting about Minnesota, and we’re hearing random reports of ICE activity elsewhere. Trump keeps talking about the federal government taking over elections, and Congress has yet to stand up against him on anything. The weather has been so weird, both groundhogs were wrong a month ago when they said six more weeks of winter. There were only two more weeks and then it hit 60° in February. And about a thousand other scary news items that I’m not listing here.

Meanwhile things are relatively “normal’ for old white people in Madison WI.

We got back from our two-over-night trip to Chicago on Saturday afternoon, and I went out on foot and just filled up my back pack with errands. Picked up a prescription, got cash, and bought kitty litter bags and sandwich meat and bagels. We had sandwiches for dinner and then went to the Madison Symphony where they were auditioning a Canadian woman conductor, Tania Miller, who I really wanted to like, but there was just too much talking. The soloist was Rachel Barton Pine, who entered on a scooter and played sitting down, which I did not remember from the last time we’d seen her.

Sunday Susan was not feeling well enough for the gym, she’d had the flu or something, just not Covid, so Mark and I walked in the morning. We had a long-planned dinner out with friends at Lombardino’s. Mark and I split a Lombardino’s salad, and I had the ribbolita for my main course and Mark had a linguine with pork belly. Both quite good. Our friends, who are vegetarian, split a winter citrus and arugula salad, and the kale and sausage pasta, no sausage, and hmm, can’t quite remember what their other pasta was.

It was my mom’s 101st birthday, and Eustace, too. See overleaf.

During our Sunday night dinner, we talked about the Friends of of the Libraries getting kicked out of Memorial Library. On Monday when I went to pick up some boxes of Friends paper files and pack and take DVDs and CDs to Saint Vinny’s there was a new sign on the loading dock.

That night I had to start taking my blood pressure and recording it in MyChart. I’m a little higher than I’d like and probably even more higher than my doctors would like. Maybe I’m extra stressed because it seems like the world’s going to hell. Whaddya think? Having to take my blood pressure gives me high blood pressure, I think.

My weight’s been a little weird too, jumping up 2 pounds overnight and then down later in the day – I think I am retaining fluids, which could also have an effect on blood pressure. I’m staring to drink more diuretic teas, like cranberry or hibiscus and may branch out to dandelion. It might be helping a bit.

Tuesday during class I noticed that my pair of old yoga mats that I’ve been using probably close to 20 years are getting a little crumbly. And I took those old mats to yoga because the cats, I’m sure primarily George, mauled my newer one. I left the door to the closet where I keep the yoga mats (and my credit card wallet) open for a few minutes; I’d gone in for a credit card to order tickets for Lunch for Libraries, and that was all the time George needed to thoroughly claw my newer mat. I took it down the basement and have been letting the cats complete the destruction. I tried to order a new yoga mat direct from Gaiam, the brand my other ones were, but starting from Gaiam’s website took me directly to Amazon as soon as I clicked add to cart. So on Wednesday, Jasper and I went to Dick’s Sporting Goods and got a boring plain blue mat. He so much wanted me to buy him a t.o.y, after we got the mat he walked around hugging it. I also ordered a prettier one from Dick’s that I have yet to open.

Also on Tuesday I walked over to take a look at a storage space on campus for the Friends books. As of today (Thursday of the following week) all the books are moved but sadly it was not without incident. And I think that incident is bothering me more than world news, because somebody got hurt and I feel responsible. This person was all for moving the books ourselves instead of trying to hire movers, as was I, but in retrospect I think I could have managed them better. 

Thursday I had a dermatologist appointment for the full body scan I like to get yearly since I had a melanoma on my leg in 2001. The clinic had postponed me from October to late February and I thought I was going to have to see a male dermatologist. So I was dreading it, but when I got there turned out they had added another woman to the practice so I got to see her. Whew. Usually the nice thing about dermatology is they don’t take your blood pressure or your weight, although they might find bad patches on your skin. Which they did this time, they shaved a mole off my back. And Wednesday, happily, they messaged me that it was benign. And my blood pressure was a little lower that night, too. My average for the most recent days is 4 points above normal for systolic and 5 points under the normal limit for diastolic. 

Friday we moved half the books without mishap. And that night we went to see After the War 1919, urged on by Susan. A multimedia show about the year 1919, after WWI and the influenza pandemic, pretty similar to right now. Put on by a group called Mobilize the Poets, that includes some members of a local band called the Kissers, but not the guitar player that I know the best, Sean Michael Dargan. He was relegated to the merch table, tho I guess he had a bigger part in their prior production, The Foe and the Fallen. “1919” was quite good, although Mark found it a little over-earnest, possibly at a sacrifice to musical quality.

Saturday I decided to do a cooking prep day, roasted sweet potatoes and beets, made applesauce and panforte for a dinner party the next night, vegan-ized some Ovens of Brittany Bailey’s corn oat muffins in honor of John & Megan stopping by on their way to watch wrestling at Al & Emma’s. We had enchiladas from the freezer for dinner with this salsa I made from all pantry and frozen stuff. The only fresh ingredients were a bunch of cilantro and the onions. It turned out pretty hot, due to having the ends of jars of pickled jalapenos and sport peppers in it. But tasty.

I made chicken pot pie for the Sunday night dinner; here’re the leftovers, photographed Monday morning, that we ate Wednesday.

Monday was a different day because in addition to the book moving mishap in the AM, I had a quickie zoom meeting to discuss some problems with an iSchool commitee I’m co-facilitating, and then Jasper came over for the afternoon. Because day care was closed since the providers had to (probably, sadly) put their dog down.

I turned him blue trying to make dino juice with orange juice and blue food color. When he was over for his full, regular, day Wednesday, we bought some real dino juice at the co-op – it’s a bottled fruit smoothie with I guess only enough greens and spirulina to make it green but not taste so bad a kid wouldn’t drink it.

Wednesday we went to a playdate for his nursery school at what I think is now my least favorite indoor play place in Madison, at least for littler kids. It’s mostly bouncy things and was kind of dark. There was a thng to climb to get up to a slide and neither of us could do it. Jasper may love it when he’s a little older and can do the bumper cars. Then to the co-op for the dino juice. We bought a puzzle and choco chimps cereal – organic cocoa puffs – and ate the cereal and drank dino juice and built the puzzle. 

Before we left for all that, Mark read to Jasper upstairs.

I made two batches of sourdough on Tuesday and Wednesday, and I think I made the perfect whole wheat sourdough for peanut butter. Fluffy and soft and not too sour. 

And I think that’s all I can do for now. We’re on the train for yet another Chicago trip, and I promise to tell you about it later. Though right now all I am thinking about is what I am missing by being in Chicago. Events too numerous to mention. See ya later.