Desert Magnolia

 The second Super Moon, also a Harvest Moon, just happened. On the same night I had my mini-meltdown. (see prior post). I've talked with several friends who reported intense emotions, mostly around stuff that needs to be released, resolved. When I think about my angst, and how intense it felt, I realize it was all about that kind of stuff. Old stuff, patterns, thinking, habits. So maybe the moon precipitated things. The bubbling up of angst and anger and icky stuff lasted all that night, but had calmed by yesterday morning. Thank gawd, because that was a morass of darkness, the likes of which I haven't experienced in at least a decade. The rest of the weekend has been pleasant. Uneventful. Full of errands, chores, a really nice walk this morning, yummy food, naps, etc. The one thing about energy that feels constant is that no mood lasts forever. Energy continually shifts and morphs, like the Universe knows too much, too long, of any one sentiment just isn't a good idea for

So I made appointments for hubby and I to get our COVID and flu vaccines. It was a date, of sorts, on this Friday evening after a(nother) long week.  But we wanted to get it done. We get to the CVS, check in, and they inform us that CVS isn't actually contracted with our insurance company, which means we'd have to pay out of pocket. We politely declined. We pay ridiculous premiums, after all, and to just pay more because our insurance company doesn't play well with CVS? Couldn't do it, out of principle alone. Now a few years ago I wouldn't actually understand the mental preparation, as well as the literal preparation that goes into planning for a(nother) vaccine.  I like to err to the conservative and assume I'll need a day or two to chill while my immune system mounts its response. Last time, it wasn't bad, but I was glad I had that day (which was not the day after, but the 2nd day, as it turns out), to recuperate. So our weekend was light. We pushed off a

 Today is my day off, so I went for a walk. Which is what I do any day I have an hour free and it's not either 900 degrees out or blowing at tornado velocity or below zero. I am fortunate to live in an area close to some open space. The space is roughly the shape of a big balloon, and its perimeter measures around 3 miles, which is a perfect distance for me. For the 27 years I've been walking this beautiful open space, I've appreciated myriad birds, coyotes, lizards, silly dogs, ever-changing foliage colors, all with the backdrop of the giant Sandias.  These beautiful, simple pleasures of nature I've taken for granted. This morning I was reminded that taking anything for granted is a really bad idea. At the bottom end of the balloon of desert, I saw this. And many large trucks. And a portapotty. They were leveling and creating a big space into which who knows what will go. My heart clogged up with sadness. I had seen survey stakes over the last months, but hadn't re

 Last night I was finishing up a fresh green salad to accompany our lasagna, and I chiffonaded the basil. It was a loose chiffonade roll, and the knife bounced. I knew the second that bad boy bounced my left pointer finger was in trouble. You know that feeling, right before something ridiculous happens. And then it happens, and you wait for a sec because you have a moment before a: the blood starts, and b: the pain starts. And then both happen. And you assess.  Usually, if you're me, there may be a bad word dropped. Because I was raised by pirates. And carry on the tradition, proudly. Ahem. Anyway, there was blood, followed by pain. I managed to (almost) carve a crescent out of the top of my poor finger. It was a flap that I calmly pressed back onto the exposed finger, rinsed, held up above my head (wrapped in a paper towel) and dropped the f bomb.  Hubby, about to jump in the shower, came trotting out into the kitchen, armed with a basket of bandaids, rendered first aid, then went

 There was a time when picking up a couple packages of the white wine mussels in the frozen foods section of Sprouts filled in the seafood gap. Keep in mind, we live in New Mexico. Fish is super duper expensive and kind of sketchy here, even at Whole Foods, ok, especially at Whole Foods. I love them for some stuff, but Bezos...grrrr.. To their credit, the seafood counter professionals take pride in their work. They handpicked me two pounds of their fresh mussels today, and they did a great job.  So getting fresh fish/seafood is a treat. And I had become a bit lazy relying on those prepared white wine steamed mussels. But I've gotten fresh. With mussels. And white wine sauce. Turns out a little butter, shallots, garlic, capers, white wine, lemon juice and little time are all it takes to prep a great sauce. And then drop in the live mussels for a few minutes to (hopefully) painlessly expire and become part of our dinner. They were fabulous. Plump. Juicy. Winey. Buttery. With a sauce

 Nobody really prepares you for the day-to-day reality of medical practice. You have clinic rotations where you practice the art of medicine. You have classes where the theory of ethics is discussed at length. You have years to ingest the theory of the medicine and then begin to apply it. But the reality of staying positive and appearing neutral when a beloved patient informs you that their cancer 'is more aggressive than anyone expected', and that they have five years of a hard fight ahead of them, sucks. Balls. When a patient who made extraordinary progress over the last few years loses their brother, experiences a personal attack, and who then was in a nasty car accident which caused significant pain and is taking quite awhile to heal from and then sinks into a nasty depression? This sucks. A lot. Therapeutic distance is a concept we work with to help us protect ourselves a bit, and to protect our patients from a really honest, visceral reaction where we shout out "No w

A perk of aging is prioritizing. The way I view it, time is our one commodity. How we use it? Expresses how much we value ourselves. This realization, late for me, I realize, as many of my friends figured this out long ago, is that if we let other people waste our time, we're letting them waste our lives. Once I started looking at things like that, simple decisions, like whether to have coffee with an acquaintance that I really didn't see ever becoming closer with, became easier.  I learned to politely decline invitations. Which is liberating in many ways. All I have is my time, right now.  Things that I value enough to spend time on them: My family. Whenever, wherever, time spent is worth it. Every time. Time in nature. Walking, hiking, sitting...it all feels elemental, and fundamental to grounding and sanity, most days. Reading. Decent stuff most days, fun, beach-y stuff others. I love to read. It's an indulgence. Movies. But no scary shit or super suspense head twisting

If you've never been to Taos, you should find a way to go. It's unique in about a million ways, and never disappoints. Case in point, our recent stay. In an historic mansion. With close family and friends.  Said mansion was built in the late 1700's. Yes, 1700's. Of adobe. Thick walls of it that subdue sound and make everyone feel like they are alone in their space, when in fact they are surrounded by others. It's very cool. The house meanders, the older sections have lower ceilings. The newer sections have radiant heat, so your feet are always toasty and you feel comfy warm without the pesky central air blowing noise that most modern houses have. The kitchen, well, it's a chef's wet dream. Really. Viking rules the double ovens and cooktops. Butcher block island in the center provides ample prep space. Multiple sinks make keeping the whole space clean while large meals are prepared easy.  The bedrooms are all cozy, and private. So if one needs some personal t

 Getting older seems to require significantly more focus on just general maintenance than earlier life. I make it a point to take pretty good care of myself. I have better years than others, but mostly I stay on top of routine checkups and requisite blood work. I feel like staying on top of things will, hopefully, prevent a big (nasty) surprise at some point.      In the last 60 days I have checked off a bunch of health To Do's:          Mammogram. Check.          Cologard.  Check.          PCP visit. Check.          Gyno visit. Check.     In the next 60 days I will visit the dermatologist for a top to bottom check (s'rsly, she is way thorough...), and an eye exam. I am looking forward to getting new glasses. I am going to try Warby Parker this time. My daughter uses them, and likes them, and they have a store in Albuquerque, so I'm going to give them a try. In real life, not online, so hopefully I can avoid a big frame choice bungle.     Personal maintenance seems to be a

     The first blooms of spring are here, and my heart is soooo damned happy to see them! The first daffodils of the year popped open this week. Green hyacinth foliage is looking strong and ready to produce the first truly fragrant blossoms of the season. Tulip leaves are strong...with buds sure to follow in short order.     I go a little nuts in the Spring. I blame the fact that I am a Spring baby, but it could be other stuff too. It could be emerging from dark, cold, windy months feels really good. It could be I feel a connection to the earthiness of emerging green and buds and happy birdsong and a feeling of imminent life...         In any case, we are at the time of year when I look at my heavy sweaters and boots and give them notice - y'all aren't gonna be in my weekly rotation much longer so let's have fun over the next couple of weeks while Winter really releases its grip on us and Spring pops in with warmer, sunnier days and a sense of new hope, of freshness, of new

Holy shit, I'm about to complete two full sets of thirty, and to begin my third. My son provided the sets of thirty idea, and I like it. It also kind of made me gag a little to think of it that way, my life, broken into not decades, now, but sets of three decades. I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little intimidated by the idea of not only completing my 50's but entering my 60's. I want to do it with a bang, not a whimper, and I want to power into the whole next era with a bit of aplomb, some grace, a bit of sass, and a fair amount of deepseated optimism about what's ahead. April 4, 1963. It was a Thursday. 7:30 a.m. And there I came after what my mom says was a fairly short though predictably intense labor. My mom, a progressive, used hypnotherapy to manage her labor and deliver me. 7 lb. 8 oz. of baby girl. I was not a good napper, apparently, though Mom could have used more breaks from my energy, which I'm told was considerable. I was 100% on, or dead to the worl

It has been awhile, yes? Why so long? Life, I suppose. Also feeling a little like, 'what the hell do I have to say that either someone else hasn't said well or that anyone cares to read?'. Honestly, it's all been said and done, right? But I am realizing there is a deep compulsion in me to shut that silly voice up, the voice of doubt, the cynical little self saboteur that lurks from time to time. Shut the hell up, doubter. Shut up cynicism. Shut up been there done that thoughts. Ok, now that that's out of the way, hello again! Hello from very very windy New Mexico, where, in the last week we've enjoyed mudstorms, winds gusting to 80 mph, downed power lines, fires in orchards that have destroyed ancient, magical fruit trees and habitat for local birds and bees and humans. I encountered, on my drive home from work last week during 50 mph crosswinds and a mudstorm the like of which I've never encountered, a tumbleweed as large as my car bouncing across the ro