Mixed Food Groups

Having a family dinner party years ago used to be a rather simple activity. I have a large extended family, so the first step was deciding who to invite. After that I could pretty much make whatever I wanted to serve and the main question was how much food to prepare. But as my children have grown, and their partners have been added to our dinners, things have gotten complicated and food choices have become more selective.  Recently, a few of us were going to a Mets baseball game, and seven family and friends were in my home for drinks and hors d’oeuvres prior to leaving for the game together.  It seemed simple. My husband and I are omnivores, as were two of the guests. But of the other three, one was a pescatarian (I bought shrimp), one a vegetarian (vegetables and crackers needed for the dips), and the last one doesn’t eat fish (cheese and prosciutto was fine). And almost everyone was trying to lose weight (double up on the dip vegetables). This need to consider the mixture of dietary choices is not new to me. My larger family group includes a vegan, a vegetarian who doesn’t eat cheese, and several who have been on a gluten-free diet.

Growing up in a kosher Jewish household, my early dining experiences were that there was never a choice of what to eat, you ate what was served. The separation of dairy and meat dishes, part of the kashruth mandate, further limited our meals- you knew not to ask for sour cream for your potato if you were eating chicken for dinner. Also, some kind of animal-based protein was always a required part of any meal- be it chicken, beef or fish. My parents were immigrants from Europe, lived through the Depression, and made it into the middle class through hard work, when there was little awareness of cholesterol or fatty foods as a health concern. Meat was the most coveted main dish, and feeling full after a meal was desirable and meant that the meal was successful.

So what’s a mother to do with mixed food groups in the family? There are several options that I have used: vegetable pasta dishes (with a non-dairy cheese to substitute for the parmigiana cheese) works for everyone- except those who want animal protein; making different dishes for different folks (the most demanding of time); or ordering food from a restaurant, for everyone or just special dishes for those who don’t eat fish or meat (a costlier option). The most costly, but one that seems to work well, is having dinner at a restaurant that has a broad assortment of dishes; Italian, Middle Eastern or Thai food tend to be best for this (Indian cuisine would work too, but it’s not my preference). The disadvantage to eating in a restaurant is that time may be limited (if it is a busy place seeking to serve as many patrons as possible). Also, you are likely to stay in your initial seat, perhaps making it difficult to talk with others at the table. I guess there’s no perfect solution.

There have been other changes too in making dinner parties. The wording used for having people in your home has changed. It used to be– I am having some people over for dinner.  It seems to have become more formalized, as it is now expressed as “I am hosting some people for dinner.” I associate host or hostess with the employee at a restaurant  responsible for seating people, making sure they get good service, and generally not being part of the festivities. This is not what I do. When folks come to my home, they can pretty much sit wherever they like (if it’s not taken), I try and make sure they have the drinks they prefer and food they can eat, but then I like to be part of the goings on… and enjoy myself at the party. True, I am aware of the flow of the evening, e.g., when we need to move from drinks to dinner, and I look out for what supplies may be running low, e.g., what foods need to be replenished or who needs a drink. But otherwise, I like to participate. Sometimes I ask someone else at the party to help oversee the event with me, and I call on them for assistance when needed. Perhaps we can be considered co-demihosts.

Another recent innovation, that emerged during the COVID pandemic, is virtual dinners. The main role of the host in these events is to send out the invitations. Once folks are gathered, each providing their own foods, they also have responsibility for serving themselves and cleaning up. Although there are some definite advantages to that, I think we are all eager for post-Covid in-person get-togethers. Maybe we can look at some of the methods from the past, like pot-luck dinners, which guarantee that everyone has at least one dish they like to eat… and everyone can be their own host.

One thing I have learned during COVID time is that while the apparent goal of mixed food groups is to dine together, with each person having at least something that meets their food choices, just being together is the underlying goal. So I will continue to ask guests about their food preferences and limitations, and try to accommodate them, but I will keep in mind that just bringing them together is the main item on the menu. Bon Appetit!

Illogicalities

I have always been logical and analytical, perhaps that’s why I became a research psychologist. So it upsets me when I see things that seem illogical. Here are a few examples of things I have bought that don’t make sense to me:

  • My husband has a prescription for Rosuvastatin, which is a generic name for Crestor. His last prescription cost $5, and when he needed a refill I called the drugstore. When I went to pick it up, it was a 30 day supply for $55. What? How could that be? Directed to call the insurance company by the pharmacist, they told me that I had tried to fill it before the due date, I would just need to wait a few more days. I did, but when the drugstore called to say it was ready, the 30-day supply was still $55. So I called the insurance company again and was informed that the high cost was because I had gotten a 30-day supply. If I ordered a 90 day supply it would be less. So I did just that, and she was right- it cost me $5. Hmmm… $55 for 30 pills and $5 for 90 pills. How could that be right?
  • Our favorite cookies from the supermarket are oatmeal raisin cookies. My local Gristedes has it in two sizes- the 18 ounce size is $5.99 and the 10 oz size is $7.99! What? I double checked- the same brand, the same cookie… no explanation. I mentioned this to the store manager, and he just shrugged his shoulders. Unfortunately, sometimes if they are out of the $5.99 package, since I know my husband loves these cookies, I buy the smaller $7.99 package. I suppose this happens often enough so that the company has decided to continue both sizes. But I don’t get it. Maybe it’s just me, and most people don’t notice how strange this is.
  • I recently opened a bottle of Vitamin D 40mcg… and when I took off the silver top- the bottle was more than half empty, and with no cotton. I have seen that before and don’t understand why they do that. It’s not like opening a cereal box and seeing some dead space because the contents has settled- you are still getting the product weight you paid for. Why do some medications come with so much empty space? They could save on plastic by just using a bottle size that fits the product, and they could put the FDA required information in an insert or in smaller print. Do they think if it’s in a small bottle that people will be less likely to lose it, or that they are willing to pay more because the bottle is large? Beats me.
  • Sometimes it’s hard to find a size Small. Whether it’s detergent or other items… sizes often start with Large, then go to Giant. Why is there such resistance to Small? Perhaps because I live in a NYC apartment, Small appeals to me, since it means that it is not likely to take up much space. For some products in the pharmacy I find Large and Travel size, with the former needing a shopping cart to transport and the latter fitting into a small purse. Why the big gap between the two sizes? And my local pizza store has Regular and Large size pizzas… but sometimes, when there are just two of us, each eating two slices,  a Small size (with four slices) will do.  So this all doesn’t make sense to me. Maybe there’s a marketing strategy that I’m not aware of,  but I think that sometimes Small is better.

I have some of my own individual, idiosyncratic illogicalities. I have no problem with them, but in all fairness I thought some should be mentioned:

  • I put on perfume before a zoom call. If it’s an important business call, I use my favorite perfume, for others, just any cologne in the house will do.
  • We subscribe to several magazines, and I need to read each magazine sequentially in the order in which it was published. Sometimes a new issue of a magazine is delivered that has an article I am particularly interested in, but I need to finish the prior issues before I can get to it. It’s a frustration that’s self-created, and a little compulsive, but at least it helps me catch up on my reading.

So what is there to conclude? Things are not always logical- in the world and within ourselves. Sometimes it’s good to take note of those that bother you (or may increase your costs), and take action to correct them. And other times, especially if they provide some level of satisfaction or sense of control over a troubling world (like perfume for a zoom call) just enjoy and ignore them.

COVID Vaccination Mingling- OY!

I am planning a family get-together to celebrate my granddaughter’s 14th birthday, and facing the challenges of inviting people with different vaccination statuses. It reminds me of planning the seating arrangements for a wedding or other big party. That’s when you need to keep in mind which of your guests are likely to get along with each other and can sit together and which ones have long-standing animosities so you should avoid having them sit together.

Our event is in a little over a week and I feel a responsibility to decrease any chances of COVID transmission.  My husband and I completed our two-shot vaccination process over two months ago. Our granddaughter is too young to be vaccinated (although her age category is likely to come up soon). The other six people to be invited have different vaccination statuses:

  • two just received their second shot… so it will be about two weeks before they are fully protected; and this is not until after our event
  • one just got his first shot … so he will be in-between his first and second shot
  • one had COVID recently, and is not yet eligible to start the vaccination process
  • one is not vaccinated, and is an anti-vaxer (this is beyond vaccine hesitancy). She believes not enough research has been done to determine the long-term risks of the vaccination
  • one has just moved here from another country and while testing negative for the virus before leaving, may not be eligible for the vaccination soon

So what should I do? I decided that the event has to be outdoors, Thankfully we are in the Spring, and temperatures have been rising. Hopefully the weather will be good. But how will I seat everyone? Should I put all the “not yet protected” folks together and six feet from the others? And from each other? I don’t think I can find a restaurant to manage that. And should I monitor everyone’s mask-wearing so that they have a mask on when they are not eating or drinking? What a way to have a celebration!

The news about the COVID virus variants now raises some concern that those who completed the vaccination process and thought they were fully protected may not be. And so when we get the whole family together this summer (there are about 20 of us), we may want to collect information on where everyone has been and what their potential exposure was, even those who are vaccinated.

And yesterday it was announced that while the COVID vaccines seems to be potent for at least six months, it is likely that a one-year booster may be needed. I think I will need a spreadsheet to keep track of everything.

Oy- this is getting very complicated.

Divesting

Over the course of my adult life I acquired many things. This included several homes. When my children were young we lived in a Manhattan apartment and bought a vacation home in the Pennsylvania mountains, mainly used on weekends. When our apartment became too small we moved into a house in the suburbs. This meant that we had room for more stuff – furniture, tchotchkes, even a ping-pong table. And because we had lots of closets in the house there was always a place to store things we didn’t have an immediate use for. So we filled them.  Several years after moving into our house, my mother-in-law died and we inherited a condo in Florida.

I have also acquired more substantial things over these years. When my children married we had more in-laws and places to visit, and more grandchildren were added. And professionally, as my career developed, I added academic degrees and a long list of successful research projects and publications that I authored.

But in the last few years I have entered a divestment mode.

The vacation house was the first to go. When my children became high-school age and wanted to stay home on weekends to be with their friends, we decided to sell it. This was easy for my husband, Doug, and me. We only had it a few years and since the house had come furnished, we just left everything behind, a little more used. Also, we didn’t miss the space as we had already moved to our suburban home and it provided many outdoor activities and vistas.

About 15 years ago, after the children went to college, we sold our house and moved back to Manhattan. This also was not difficult for me- I was eager to get back to Manhattan, happy to eliminate the long commute, and never thought of myself as a suburban Mom. This was my first major divestment and we had lots to dispose of.  We took many things with us but most of the furniture was sold, given to others, donated or thrown out. Local charities got our record collection, lots of books, and furniture, including a piano. The new owners bought our dining room set, and we left the backyard furniture (no need for that in a Manhattan high rise apartment). But the basement of the house had provided space for materials for my husband’s life-long miniature wargame hobby, and we had no space for it in the new apartment. So we rented a studio not far from our Manhattan apartment so that Doug could continue to paint figures, create battlefields, and do the other activities required to prepare for running games at miniature war-gaming conventions.

The stuff in the closets that we never used was easy to part with. In the last few days we lived there, since we were required to leave the house “broom-clean,” we got a big dumpster and threw things out of the window from the second floor. This was fun. After all these years, I haven’t missed anything I gave up… although I could use some of that lost closet space.

The second major divestment occurred last year when we closed the studio Doug used for his hobby. His energy level was declining and it was getting harder for him to stand for several hours, a requirement for preparing and running the games at conventions. We prepared an inventory of all his materials, troops and weaponry, by wars- mainly naval, WWII and the American Civil War.  He shared these lists with fellow-wargamers and was able to sell most of the troops, terrain and gaming materials.  Some painting supplies were given to our granddaughter, and remaining materials were sent to other hobbyists. I often joked with friends that it wasn’t easy to provide a home for thousands of troops, nor to see them go off to an unknown future. When I asked Doug if it was difficult to give up the studio and its materials, he looked at me with surprise. He was ready to let it go, he said, and for a while enjoyed gaming on the computer. Also, I think that since most of the troops were sold to friends, he draws comfort from knowing where his troops are living now and that they are cared for.

Another divestment is now underway. We are selling our Florida condo apartment. We use it infrequently, mainly to visit relatives who live in Florida. There are upkeep costs for an aging property that don’t seem worth it anymore, and it will be less costly for us to stay in hotels or with family when we visit. We always knew we would not be “snow birds,” who spend extensive periods of time in Florida during the winter weather. But this is not as easy as the other divestments; my mother-in-law had collected many fine Asian furniture and decorative pieces, some of which I grew to cherish. My husband and I have selected several pieces we want, including paintings that Doug’s father made and a lovely egret lamp that I always thought was quite elegant. As for the rest, my children created an inventory of items and they have selected what they wish to take. The rest will be sold, given away or donated. 

This process has got me thinking about divestment generally. Giving up the homes I lived in has not been very difficult, perhaps because each change was something I chose, and I am happy to be living in Manhattan.  Many of the items I cared about I have kept or I will be able to visit at my children’s homes.

And I have thought about those items I will never be divested of, like my graduate degrees and publications. I no longer have certain important-sounding job titles, and except for some consultations, most of my former work life has ended. I am still coming to peace with the loss of these sources of identity, but I take comfort in knowing that these experiences and accomplishments will always be part of who I am. And who I am is not these material things or accomplishments.  

There is also another type of divestment that has been underway for several years – responsibility for family holiday get-togethers. I used to host Thanksgiving, Hannukah and   Passover, and while I experienced some anxiety about the preparations before each event, I was always pleased that the family was brought together and had a good time. Thanksgiving was the first to go: my step-daughter is an accomplished chef, loves this holiday, and we began going to her home for Thanksgiving several years ago. Hannukah was next to go. With our children inter-marrying, the holiday became Chrismukkah, and when my daughter-in- law wanted to invite family to see her new home around the holidays, she asked if I minded if she did this annual holiday party… and said she would be willing to do so going forward. Fine with me I thought, I could attend and enjoy the family gathering… and I get to bring the potato latkes. The Passover Seder was the last to go. Last year shortly after my daughter got married and bought her first home she asked if she could make the Passover Seder- her favorite family tradition. I was ready to cede that holiday too; I had already given her recipes for mandelbrodt and haroset… two of our family favorites. The first Passover Seder she and her husband hosted was a virtual one by Zoom, due to COVID – but we did the traditional Seder- we all took turns in reading the story of Passover (the Haggadah), and everyone had all the ceremonial foods, including their own wine and matzohs. Over the past year we managed to have an in-person Thanksgiving 2020 (requiring everyone to get COVID-tested beforehand), but Chrismukkah was a virtual celebration and Passover 2021 was again virtual. Hopefully we can all get together soon for these celebrations.

So what is left after these many divestments of homes and their contents, of work and their activities, and of holiday functions in the family? I know there was some temporary sense of loss and sadness when some of these changes happened; I was wistful when I left the home where my children grew up and felt regret when I retired from my research position and when I stopped making holiday dinners. But I don’t experience these changes as losses now. Although they contributed to a sense of fullness and richness in my life at the time, I don’t feel that I have less now, but rather that I have more. On a material, concrete level I have more space and time to explore people and places I care about, and engage in writing and reading about things that interest me. I especially like having the time to craft new activities that my past scheduled life provided little opportunity for. And on a nonmaterial level, I have not divested of anything that is principal to who I am- engaged in life, with loving relationships, and now with the time for reflection and appreciation for what I have and what I am planning. Thus, although I am divested of many things, I’m not done yet, and I feel ready for new and varied types of acquisitions.

Passover Passed Over?

I have participated in an annual Passover Seder all of my life. I grew up in an Orthodox Jewish home, and my mother prepared this ceremonial meal most of her married life, until she ceded the activity to my older sister. After I married, even though my Jewish religious affiliation changed to Reform and then to Humanism, I continued this annual ritual. I looked forward to it as a special time for the entire family to come together. As an adult, I especially enjoyed reading the story of Passover in English – as a child it was in Hebrew, with little understood by any of those participating (including me).

I prepared the Seder meal when we had a home in the suburbs and continued after we moved back to NYC. Last year, in March 2020, I started planning what I anticipated would be the last Seder I would take responsibility for. Although it was fun to have the family, and sometimes friends, join together and read through the story of Passover (the Haggadah), I found that preparing a multi-course dinner for anywhere between 12 and 20 people was something I was ready to give up. I asked my newly-married daughter, Dara, who loves the Seder ritual, to take it over starting the following year, and I began planning for the upcoming  event.

The Seder was to be in early April, on the first night of the Passover holiday. But in late March, after talking with the family, we decided to cancel the in-person event. The fear of COVID transmission and warnings against large gatherings led to the cancellation, especially since some family members are seniors and some are immune-compromised.

Dara took over preparing a virtual Seder. She created a modified Haggadah, and we all prepared by having wine and matzoh ready. As is our family’s custom, we each read part of the Passover story. At the end, as we said good-bye, we discussed having an in-person Seder at my daughter’s home in 2021.  She was pregnant at the time, and we all anticipated having a new youngest family member to play with.

Much has happened over the past year, in the pandemic and in our family. COVID cases are declining and the vaccine is now widely available. But not everyone in the family has been vaccinated and large gatherings are still discouraged. And so we are planning our second virtual seder.

My daughter will again be hosting the virtual ceremony, with her new son our youngest attendee. I know that as we read about the 10 plagues described in the Haggadah, we will all be thinking of the plague that still threatens our world but that thankfully seems to be abating. 

Four members of our family contracted COVID over the past year. In the Haggadah, Passover refers to the Jews who were passed over from the consequences of one of the plagues. I am grateful that our family was “passed over” in terms of serious post-COVID consequences, and all are now almost fully restored to health. I am sad for those who were not so fortunate.

I am also reminded of another meaning of “passed over” – my daughter “inheriting” the responsibility for the Passover Seder tradition, albeit in a virtual state for now. This is a reminder that change is part of life and it is good when there are young people eager to continue family traditions.

It also seems fitting after this difficult year to celebrate the meanings of Passover as a celebration of freedom from oppression and of the coming of spring. We have all come through a difficult time- oppressive to many- and can now be hopeful that the worst is over. And next year may my family, and all others, be able to celebrate holidays together in person.

Amen.  

Just in Case

As I look at many of the items I have accumulated in my home over the years, I see things that I have kept that are not very useful. As a child, when I left home my mother would remind me to take certain items just in case.  This included a hankie or tissue in my pocket and, if rain were predicted, an umbrella. Perhaps that is why there is a wide range of items that I maintain or keep in case I might need them. There are several examples:

Jars of sauces and condiments in my refrigerator that are almost full, and were used once for a special dish. I haven’t used them in months, but I keep these jars just in case I decide to make something again that requires that ingredient. My daughter recently visited and threw out those that had passed their expiration dates. I have started a new collection.

Plastic forks and spoons that are included when I order Chinese food. These implements never get used, as I order this food to eat at home and I prefer my own silverware. But I can’t throw them out- just in case I decide to go on a picnic one day or someone calls who needs them.

I have more than a dozen glass flower vases, of various colors, that came with birthday and other gifts I received over the years. I will never need them all simultaneously, but they are quite pretty, so I keep them. They will come in handy in case I win a major award of some type and am inundated with flowers from many admirers (vases not included).

My address book has telephone numbers and addresses of people I haven’t contacted in years.  Sometimes I update my listing and consider excluding information for those I know I have no interest in contacting. But I don’t… just in case.

Then there are those lotion bottles in my bathroom that I have gotten as gifts. Who knows? Maybe one day I won’t be able to buy the lotion brands I prefer, and I will be glad I kept them.

Much of my closet space is taken up by clothes that I don’t wear – the ones that don’t fit anymore, and the suits and heels I used to wear to work. I keep them for different reasons: the clothes that don’t fit just in case I get a serious disease and lose a lot of weight, and the work clothes, should I decide to come out of retirement and start a new job that requires them. These possibilities are highly unlikely, but I keep the clothes… just in case.

I have a friend who has many closets in her large pre-war apartment and, much to her children’s amusement, has saved many unusual items through the years. Early in 2020, at the beginning of the COVID pandemic, she found several N95 masks, stored for many years, for her own just in case needs. Her children were grateful she had them.

I have decided, for now, that I will keep all my just in case stuff that doesn’t spoil or lose potency. When I run out of space I will toss them out.

Case closed.

To Dye or Not to Dye

I started dyeing my hair about 20 years ago. I have very dark brown curly hair, and when gray appeared it was quite obvious. My mother, who had a similar hair color and texture, had very little gray up to her death at 85. Given our many physical similarities, I thought my hair would also remain dark throughout my life.  When gray started coming in, it was clear that would not be so.

Through my forties I never spent much effort- time or money- in anti-aging remedies: no special face creams, cosmetic surgery, or hair coloring. The idea of growing old gracefully appealed to me, especially since I never imagined that I would become an older woman. But when I saw the gray coming in, I felt that it made me look (prematurely?) older. I started having my hair dyed.

This continued throughout my professional working life. As my career advanced, many of my colleagues were younger than me. I felt it was important that I continue to dye my hair so as not to be seen as older. I planned to stop once I retired.

I retired almost two years ago, and my resolution lasted about eight weeks. Once I saw substantial gray coming in I reverted to hair-dyeing.

I realized the truth of something a friend said years ago. Her husband once told her “you don’t have to keep dyeing your hair for me.” Her response was that she wasn’t doing it for him. I too was no longer doing it for colleagues, this was something for me.

Within a year of my retirement COVID restrictions caused the closing of hair salons. I considered this an opportunity to see what my natural hair would look like, again thinking I could now age gracefully.

A friend reported doing an informal survey of the women she knew, asking what would be the first thing they would do once the COVID restrictions were lifted and shops reopened. The most frequent response was to go to a hair salon to get a haircut and get their hair colored! We both laughed at that. But not for long.

As my gray hair took over more territory,  I felt older whenever I looked into a mirror. My hair salon opened about three months into the COVID shutdown period and without too much wavering I was back to hair dyeing.

But now there’s another concern.

My hair is thinning and I wondered if hair dyeing was exacerbating the problem. Would I have to choose between more gray hairs (if I stopped dyeing) or fewer but dark hairs?

My hairdresser tried to reassure me and said she recently changed to a hair color product that used natural ingredients, and was good for my scalp. I looked it up, and I’m not sure if sugar and rice milk can actually reduce hair loss, although they sound yummy for a pudding. This did, however, give me some comfort that the problem might improve.

My hairdresser reported that several of her clients had recently talked about hair loss and were told by doctors that it is stress-related, brought on by the COVID pandemic. Since I recently got my second vaccine shot and my fears of getting COVID have declined, this encouraged my hopes that my hair loss will decline.

Also, when I told my hairdresser that I was upset by the hairs I saw every day on my white-tiled bathroom floor she had a suggestion: Change your tiles to a darker color.  There’s an interesting thought.

So for now, I will continuing getting my hair dyed, hope that the new natural hair dye product will reduce hair loss, and not change my floor tile.

After all, I think I always knew that dyeing was inevitable.

Enjoying the Quotidian

During this COVID time, at least until vaccinations are widespread, I follow public health recommendations and am less likely to leave my home. Many things I loved doing—visiting friends and family, eating at restaurants, going to the theater—have all become less frequent or even impossible. And being retired, I am not working from home. But I now find that there are things I enjoy doing that I never paid much attention to before. These are generally unremarkable tasks, considered quotidian. (What a lovely word for something that means ordinary).

In the past—when I was busy with children, work, husband, family, dogs, etc., —many of the activities I did were quickly done and forgotten. But I have decided to take notice and fully enjoy the ordinary. And I find they use all my senses.

These activities range from simple pleasures, like putting on sweatpants when I know I am staying home. Easy on and off, soft to the touch and with pockets for tissues. What a pleasure. And as a bonus they conceal the COVID weight I am gaining.  So comfy.

I have never enjoyed preparing elaborate meals, but now I find that I can happily anticipate making even simple dishes. Before going to sleep at night I sometimes look forward to a breakfast I especially like- eggs over easy with a muffin and jam. Mmmm. I can almost taste and smell the eggs cooking as I fall asleep.

I have an arthurium plant on my dining table that was a Mother’s day gift last year, that continues to grow new leaves and, more slowly, new beautiful red flowers. I eagerly look at it every morning to see the new growth. The bright and shiny new leaves and flowers stand up so straight and proud, almost as if they are eager to see me too.

And there is much pleasure from my Google Nest. I love that I just say OK Google and she is ready to answer any question at any time. I can ask about a clue for a crossword puzzle, the weather, or anything I wonder about based on the day’s news or a passing thought. I even ask her to play music—lately this has been Oldies or Jazz—often stirring pleasant memories of the past.

And there’s another ordinary activity I now enjoy more. I have the time to read the newspaper in the morning. It took a while before I realized I could linger over the newspaper and think about what I am reading, and didn’t need to rush to dress and start the day’s tasks. It feels like a gift of time.

I also enjoy contacting friends or relatives I haven’t seen in a while, usually through a text message or phone call. Their response sometimes indicates they have been thinking about reaching out to me too. Sharing updates about our lives, and even learning that they too are struggling with the COVID constraints, nourishes me. Why didn’t I contact them more often before? Another gift of time.

Having dinner with my husband is something I have been doing for over forty years. It was often in a rush, so that I could quickly clean-up, spend time with our children, or finish a work task. I no longer have to rush through dinner time. We can enjoy a more leisurely meal, often with wine, talking about the day or future plans. I also take pleasure in postponing the clean-up.     

When I was working, I made weekly to-do lists of my work tasks. Now, I like making a list every morning of the day’s ordinary tasks and plan their estimated times. This includes daily things like writing in my journal and reading, or episodic tasks like ordering a gift for an upcoming birthday, doing an errand in a local store, or calling a friend. Enjoyment from creating these lists comes in several ways- I like to organize my day, I often get pleasure from completing the task, and I always get pleasure from crossing it off my list as the day goes on. And there’s one more gain- for many of the tasks I can decide that I want to do something else, and I simply postpone or cross it off undone. I like being in charge of what I do.

Playing word games are my secret guilty pleasure. Doing crossword puzzles, playing on- line Words with Friends and Scrabble– I enjoy them all. These activities are not on my to-do list, I suppose that’s related to the guilt. I usually do them throughout the day, in-between the listed tasks, sort of like intermezzos between courses.  They provide me with a brief sense of satisfaction (especially when I do well) before I go /or don’t go, to a next task on my list.

I have decided that while there continue to be major and sometimes extraordinary things that I do—like write a story for publication, spend the day at a museum, or provide work-related consultations with former colleagues— I will also notice and enjoy the quotidian pleasures.

Across the Ages

My newest grandson, Lucas, is five months old, and has become responsive to my talking and smiling. He spends much of his waking time, when he is not being fed or diapered, kicking his feet in the air, waving his arms, and making cooing sounds.  What a pleasure to watch. I eagerly anticipate spending time with him as he grows up.

 As Lucas is at the very beginning of his life, and I have gone through the majority of my life stages, I thought about our differences and similarities and wondered whether we can connect across our ages. I think we can.

The differences are many, but I expect some will diminish.

 Lucas has no words yet, and I am a logophile. I love reading, writing, and especially finding the right words to express my thoughts.

            I will teach him new words, and how to play Scrabble, my favorite game, as we both age. And as he becomes familiar with new technologies or new terms entering our culture, he can teach me those.  

He can’t walk. Actually he can’t even crawl yet. I love to go for long walks, and to visit new museums and other places.  

As we both age we will come to a point where our mobility capacities cross… his little boy legs will mean he can’t cover too much distance too quickly, and this will match the distance I can cover with my flagging energy. I hope we will go to many places together.

He sleeps a lot now but will soon require less sleeping time, and will nap infrequently. I am busy and active throughout the day.

But  I am approaching the time when infrequent daytime naps will help me feel refreshed – another good match to anticipate.

And there are similarities which are likely to become differences.

He eats often, about every 3-4 hours. As he gets older he will need to eat less frequently. Since I retired, and am home more due to COVID, I too eat about every 3-4 hours, whereas I used to just eat at mealtimes, about every 6-8 hours.  

Until the COVID lockdown is over, I expect my new eating pattern will continue. But this means there is another similarity – we both seem to be outgrowing our clothes!

Our diets are somewhat similar now- rather bland. He is just on milk, and I prefer mild, non-spicy, delicate flavors. This will definitely change, as his parents love many cuisines, some of which are quite spicy, and they will introduce him to all of them.

And I will introduce him to some of our family’s favorite foods, like bagels and noodle pudding, in moderation of course.

Lucas’ hair has been thinning since his birth, and it will soon begin filling in, as his parents both have thick hair. My hair is thinning as well, but I expect the change for me is unidirectional.

So who cares about hair anyway.

We both stay home much of the time now. I have traveled extensively, both for work and pleasure, but COVID and retirement means that home- and family-based activities have increased. This is likely to continue. Lucas’ Mom’s profession is in International Development, and his parents look forward to showing him the world. He has much travel in his future.

I look forward to hearing about his travels when he gets home.

So as this new year begins, with hopes for a long rich life ahead for my young grandson, I know that our love as well as our differences and similarities will connect us across our ages.

Don’t Save the Best for Last

I have a new New Year’s resolution. I have dusted off the old ones- related to weight loss and increased exercise- they are always easy to make, though not to follow. I now have a new one. Saving the best for last has been a pattern of mine that I plan to change.

At meals I often save the best for last. If I cut up my steak and there’s a particularly juicy-looking piece, I put it aside, and eat the rest first. When having a fruit salad, I eat the smaller and less appealing pieces first, and then the luscious piece of strawberry or melon at the end.

When I read the newspaper, if there are several articles I want to read, I leave the one I am most interested in for last. I read what I think I should be up-to-date on first—about the latest political wrangle, or latest atrocity in a part of the world that’s far away. And then I read the story about a politician or issue I have strong feelings (positive and negative) about. This is followed by the op-ed page, and I begin anticipating one of my favorite pieces- the daily crossword puzzle. I save that for last, after my reading is completed.

In COVID time, when my trips outside of home have become less frequent, I do the smaller household tasks, with not much payoff, at home first.  I leave the outside trips that I enjoy more, food shopping or bus rides to visit a friend or museum, for later in the day. I follow public health guidelines regarding masks and social distancing, I feel I am protected from transmission, and I am eager for these outings.

I have a few friends I enjoy talking with. When I plan to call them, usually in the evening, I will wait until I finish any needed tasks- whether it be cleaning up after dinner or looking through the mail.

Why do I do this? Maybe I enjoy the anticipation of something to look forward to, so I extend the anticipatory time by delaying having what is most desirable. Also, in terms of tasks, if I get the little things out of the way, then I have the rest of the time for the ones I enjoy more, and I believe I can do them with no time limitation. Maybe I also believe that old Frank Sinatra song The Best is Yet To Come.

But I know, and often admire, others who act differently. They start their meal with the best piece of a dish, they look briefly at the front page of the newspaper and go directly to what really interests them, and they do the tasks they care most about first- leaving the less desirable ones for later.

And then there are the bigger things in life, like trips to visit friends and family, or places that have been on my To Do list since I retired. While COVID has interfered with our ability to do those kinds of things, we should all be vaccinated in 2021, and those trips will be possible again. It’s time for me to review that list and prioritize my plans.

I now find that saving the best for last may no longer be the best strategy for me. When I get to the end of the meal, I may feel full, and not enjoy that tasty morsel as much as I had anticipated. After reading all the parts of the paper that I think I should be informed about, sometimes I feel so depressed and hopeless that my energy has declined and I skip the puzzle. And when I put off tasks I am most interested in doing, whether it’s a trip outside of my home or a call with a beloved friend—I sometimes find that I have run out of energy—and don’t do it.

My resolution is that I will change my ways and go for the most pleasurable first. Why not? Perhaps the best can be now— and it is up to me to choose to make it that way.