December 25 2006

From years past, these Christmas Seals were on the letter my father sent my mother while he was still in the Army, Stateside, in 1943, waiting for orders to be sent to the European Theater. Maybe it's the long long nights that make me reflect back (to the time before my birth), maybe it's my father's upcoming 93rd birthday on the 27th, or maybe it's just that this is part of my nature. In any case, as this year comes to a close, I've been thinking more and more of times long ago, and what the world was like then. Here in the present, as I look out the window to the snowless landscape, I am amazed that some of the grass could actually use mowing, and that the daffodils continue their misguided progress out of the ground. Apparently the global warming process has fooled them too. This is the first year since our move to New York State that December has not found us surrounded by several feet of snow; though with January just around the corner, that could happen any time for the next three months. I still put out seed in our bird feeder, and get the usual crowd of feathered friends (juncos, sparrow, jays, titmice, nuthatches, cardinals, doves, a very occasional goldfinch, lots of other finches, a lone rufuous sided towhee, chickadees black-capped and otherwise, and a very misguided downy woodpecker that hangs upside down on the perch pulling out sunflower seeds, apparently never having heard that woodpeckers don't eat out of bird feeders). The larger, pileated woodpeckers are doing their jack-hammer imitations in the surrounding forests, and now that the leaves are down I have a good view of what are either crows' or hawks' nests in the bigger oaks. The deer have been invisible for a few days, though I see their hoof prints all over the lower planted terraces. In fact, they and I continue to fight over who controls the last planting of irises this past fall; they keep coming back to the same one and digging it up. Must be frustrating for whatever their plans are for me to keep replanting it. And they (the deer) have also grudgingly gnawed at the ends of the yucca leaf spears. I know they don't like the stuff, and won't eat it, but I guess they just have to convince themselves again and again. I would much prefer they stay in the long weedy areas we thoughtfully left for them to chew on - or even come out to the flats and mow the grass. But alas, they are pretty but perverse, and always seem to know which plants I most want them to avoid, which they take great pains to nibble.

December 20 2006

A holiday bouquet for everyone! Update regarding the post November 28 Social Security - I guess Hell did freeze over, I just missed it. The Social Security office has sent a final payment to our account, and sent us a letter (about a week later) to say they were going to do this. And why should anyone care? First, it's a rare and happy moment to get real closure on any dealing with any bureaucracy. And second, more important to my vast and ever-expanding readership out there (almost up to double digits!), this proves that my original assumption that it was not legal for the government to just take whatever funds were left in someone's account, was true. Unfortunately we have had too many friends who have lost parents this year, and, as one might expect at such a sad and stressful time, the last thing a grieving child needs is to go head to head with a governmental agency. But I do encourage any of you out there who have the energy to pursue this matter to do so. We were told very clearly at the time of my mother-in-law's death, and subsequently, by more than one bureaucrat, that there were no benefits to surviving children - yet, lo and behold, it turns out that's not true. Apparently this is a very well-kept secret. At least no one I spoke to about it seemed to think otherwise.

December 18 2006

We are having a much quieter Hanuka this year than in 2001. Here is the story of our Hanuka miracle, from my journal at that time. It also reminds me of the "daily miracles" taken for granted; that we are here, healthy and safe, that my parents (and other family and friends) are too, and so much more. It seems sometimes that only a brush with disaster can show me just how much I have to be grateful for. Happy Holidays to all!

12/20/01 Brian wrote: For the past week we have been trying to recover from the horrifying event last Friday night (12/14, the sixth night of Hanuka). LK and I were in our "cozy room" in front of a fire in the wood stove. I happened to look up from my book and noticed what looked to be snowflakes blowing horizontally outside our window. We quickly realized it was sparks in the steady ferocious wind. We ran to the back door to see what was causing the sparks. The wood pile next to the back door was engulfed in flames. I remember crying "My God!" as I ran to get the rubber boots, gloves and a fire extinguisher. I ran out and emptied the extinguisher into the fire with almost no result. The wind was howling as flames were wildly flying over my head and under the first story eaves of the house.

LK had run to the shed in the dark, grabbed the fire hose and was trying to attach it to the spigot in the dog run, in pitch blackness. I ran to my studio to get another fire extinguisher which I emptied into the fire, also with no result. There was too much burning. I could barely see LK through the clouds of smoke as she tried to pour water from the hose on the fire. I ran to the shed and grabbed a shovel and began to push over the wood pile, now consumed in a raging fire. This was not working. I rushed to get a hoe and began to pull burning logs away from the center of the fire onto the gravel driveway and away from the house, which is the direction the wind was blowing, straight up from the Potomac. LK could not see me a few feet away and thought I might be on fire.

After about ten minutes we had brought it under control. Ashes in a metal bucket from the night before had been revived by the wind and sucked out of a crack in the top. A few more minutes and we would have lost everything. Every calm day is a blessing.

LK added: I consider this a real Hanuka miracle. The sixth night of Hanuka will always have a different meaning for me now. I don't think I have bee this frightened since the terror bombings in Israel in '96. I still don't remember how I got into the shed. I ran past Brian and the fire (he had put himself between the fire and the back wall of the house, and as I learned later was emptying fire extinguisher into the wood pile; I could hear him after that, but couldn't see him, only flames). I don't remember how I found the hose, or anything else except that I just kept praying GD would help me do this. The first end of the hose I grabbed was not the right one, so I had to try again. I don't think I could think at all, just act. Hours later, when I recalled the sequence of events, all I could remember was getting the wrong end of the hose first and hoping Brian wasn't burning up while I got the hose coupled. We both were out for hours in a fierce cold wind, continuing to water the woodpile, the scattered, burned logs, and the entire back driveway. Needless to say, I didn't get any sleep that night, as we were too aware that if even one spark had been missed by either of us, the fire would start up again in the high winds. In the morning I could see how close we had really come to disaster. The entire back driveway was littered with burnt logs of all sizes, many almost burned through. The house itself had not even one speck of soot!

December 14 2006

I am so proud of my mother! At 87 she is still not only smart, lovely and thoughtful, but also incredibly tenacious as her own excellent advocate. Let me explain: Over six months ago, on a weekend, my mother discovered that one of the staff persons at her assisted living center (where she and my soon to be 93 year old father have lived for almost 6 years now) had decided to "clean out" the lounge room on their floor. This room serves both as an informal meeting room for activities and resident parties, and, more frequently, as a place for the live-in aides who care for residents to store their food, cook it, and socialize while they grab a meal. There's a refrigerator and a microwave, and lots of cabinet space, mostly empty except for things like Scrabble boards. We've had someone living with my parents for over two years now. One person works Monday through Friday, and someone else comes in for the weekend shift. The weekend man had just come in the night before, bringing his fresh food for the weekend with him. This was all thrown out, without warning, or even the courtesy of a knock on the apartment door to ask him to remove anything. When Mom confronted the staff person, she was given the usual non-responsive replies that the residents have unhappily become used to. That is, no real reason was given as to why unspoiled, clearly marked food was tossed. At that point Mom told the staff person that she would reimburse the aide for his lost food, and deduct that amount from her monthly fee (we're talking about thousands of dollars a month for the apartment, two meals a day, and various other services). The staff person was not only unsympathetic, but actually told my mother that she could do that if she wanted, but the small amount in dispute would be deducted from my parents' deposit when they "moved". "Moved" at this stage in their lives, as you might imagine, rarely means to anywhere else on this planet. What rudeness! What gall! So for the last six months my mother has talked to easily half a dozen persons about this, all of whom declined to to anything, citing ridiculous non-reasons that were enough to make me tear my hair out just hearing them. Finally, yesterday, Mom called the very head honcho of the entire area ONE MORE TIME. She had just seen an ad where the center was offering a free month's rent to new residents, plus a signing fee to anyone who recommended someone. She pointed out to this person that those amounts totaled over five thousand dollars; whereas what she was requesting lo these many months was well under fifty dollars. I don't know whether she caught him in a good mood, or that he finally understood the righteousness of her complaint, or whether the moon was retrograde or not; but the upshot of it all was that at dinner last night, a man to whom she had also spoken about this months ago, who also declined to credit this small sum, sought her out and said that "without admitting any wrongdoing, in the spirit of conciliation" they would credit her account. Kudos to Mom for hanging in there - it's a small win financially but HUGE in the principles department. And how lucky am I to be the daughter of such a woman of valour? Advocates out there, take note: never give up, never give in, hang on to your principles!

December 7 2006

Big dog news this weekend, the Eukenuba Show once again. I'm sure you'd want to know that a Springer Spaniel took Best of Show at this weekend's big hoopla. Yes, I watched all 6 hours (in two days) except for the necessary house and body maintenance, like unloading of the dishwasher at the strategic moment of Sporting Class. First time any dog of that category won (shows how under appreciated spaniel types are). And of special interest to you Golden Retriever entities (dogs and people, you know who you are) might be that a charming Golden took best breeder/owner/handler category. They showed him at home on his throne (former couch) surrounded by a gaggle of Goldens, including some truly lovely puppies.

And even better than all the above (which is pretty fascinating stuff around here in what passes for my life), PUPPY BOWL will be back on the airwaves in February of '07! This pleases me on several levels, not the least of which is proof that I didn't hallucinate the entire thing in one of my insomniac nights. And (as Dave Barry always says) I am not making this up, the commercial included references to the "new, improved Kitty Half-time" plus "Tail Parties" with the obligatory clips. What a Valentine!

All else remains the same here, only colder. After our 20-hour electrical outage this weekend, we are at last (this is our fourth winter here in the frozen north) the proud owners of a generator. I was momentarily tempted to call the electric company to inquire just why we here in the boonies had to wait 18 hours after the power was restored in Bloomingburg (or it might be Bloomington, I lose track). Since Bloomingwhatever is at most 15 miles away, it occurred to me that walking the entire line would not have taken 18 hours. But fortunately for my stress levels, I decided not to waste time and energy for a no-win non-explanation. That's just how it is here in rural New York State. And if I needed any further proof that we are not alone in the lack of services, the ongoing saga of the magistrates' courts continue to "outrage" lots of folks who should have long ago noticed, and known better.

Mom suggested christening the generator with champagne, a strange suggestion from such a Jewish woman; if in fact there's any champagne around, I vote for drinking it, thereby preparing for the even colder temperatures lurking over the horizon (thanks, Canada). Yesterday even the pond was frozen over, the birdbath has been upturned for the winter for a while now.

Our resident deer (now four, apparently Annette the doe has adopted an orphan to keep her twins Abbey and Kevin company) are looking pretty bulked up for the winter, and by the munch marks I can see they are trying even the allium and iris leaves (which they don't like at all; this summer Kevin tried his best to eat marigolds, which resulted in a very funny movie of munch and spit out that lasted about 15 minutes). Here's a shot of them this past summer (when we were all thinner!).

November 28, 2006

Now I'm really annoyed. Thirteen and a half months after my mother-in-law died, again today I found myself fruitlessly trying to contact Social Security via the net. Why I still try is a mystery, since not once in over a year have I been able to achieve anything even remotely useful. The links don't work, the "help" is not helpful, and I am beginning to think this is part of a vast effort to further frustrate any of us who have the gall to request what is legally owed to us from any governmental entity. I guess it's a ritual of frustration that energizes me for the mornonic conversations I endure after dialing the 800 number. The issue at hand is that the Social Security office has been requesting, and receiving, various documents proving that my mother-in-law existed, that she died, that her son exists, still, that he is her only surviving son, etc. How many copies of the same papers does any agency need? The person with whom I spoke (let's call her X rather than the expletive I would prefer)actually told me that I had to go down to the basement, sort through boxes, and provide Marge's Social Security number to her. When I mentioned that she (theoretically, being with the SS Office) could access this information from the date of death, she declined to do so. What a world! This is so reminiscent of the paper trail my family had to provide the Veteran's Administration regarding my father's veteran's benefits as a former POW of WWII. For six months, our family was quite busy hunting up documents that went all the way back to his discharge in 1945 - most of which we saw again and again in other stacks of paper on desks in the VA offices. Meanwhile, X and I continue our conversation. I am told that the last letter we received, dated 10/2/06, requesting yet again one piece of the four papers requested 2/23/06, was sent in error (are we surprised? these papers had already been sent multiple times, each time seeing the letter with his deceased mother's name an emotional upset). Proudly X announces that as of LAST WEDNESDAY "they" had begun to process the claim for survivor benefits. When I asked whether I could submit a request for a time frame to conclude this mess, X told me she'd be happy to submit such request, but that would in fact result in the pile of papers, including the proposed request, being taken off the desk of whoever was industriously beginnning the paperwork (only 13 1/2 months later!) and the whole giant pile of paperwork would be started over. How very helpful. My comments regarding the trauma other people expereince, seeing the names of their loved ones over and over again, the unnecessary waste of everyone's time triplicating (and more) the very same paperwork endlessly, and anything else I had to say to X (why not get some satisfaction out of this mess? at least I had the chance to rant to a very unresponsive but assumedly conscious person)were met with silence. An hour after I dialed the 800 number the call concluded with X telling me that as of right now, this second, there was (amazingly) nothing else I needed to resubmit, and that eventually we would get a letter telling us how all this has been resolved, and what the amount of the survivor benefits would be. As to the benefits themselves, I assume we will get a check from the Social Security office for something like $2.98 just before Hell freezes over (less likely now with global warming) or after we are dead too. Then the next generation can begin the process all over again.

November 25 2006

Now that we've all had the opportunity to see the televised mayhem of Black Friday, it occurs to me that this is an indication of at least one of the problems persisting here in the land of the free. That otherwise normal adults would stand in line for hours in the dark, and then in many cases actually physically harm strangers in the pursuit of consumer goods seems to indicate a society gone awry. As a staunch anti-shopper, perhaps I miss the point (great deals? savings? the thrill of the hunt? filling empty spiritual voids with electronics? all of the above? none of the above?), but even world class shoppers might be well served to take a moment to re-think the contact sport part. After all, they might one day be the person on the ground being trampled rather than the victorious hero brandishing Barbie version 293 or a plasma screen (okay, I admit flourishing a plasma screen would be challenging). I submit that our shared worlds (wherever they overlap) would be quite different if the shoppers' turnout for sales was duplicated at the polls, for instance. Or maybe the reason for my discontent is that yesterday was the six-month anniversary of the death of my beloved dog Saul. While he may not have been the best dog in the entire world (it's possible; I know other dog lovers who contend theirs is the title-bearer) he was certainly the best in my entire world. And I miss him constantly, no matter what holiday season comes upon me. So I'll close with one of the many Saul shots. By the way, the smile was real, not photoshopped.

November 24 2006

At last I am attempting (with a good start given by Alan) to post my thoughts via blog, instead of the endless bcc's for e-mails. Beginning the day after Thanksgiving is auspicious, I think, as most of us are besotted with food and/or exhausted from the obligatory rite of Black Friday shopping. So I assume that any wayward websurfers that find me will be less critical than after a fast day (assuming anyone out there observes such). As I find presently I have absolutely no thoughts worth typing, I'll end this timid beginning with an image of the season (no, not a bunch of bloated diners passed out in front of a t.v., nor piles of boxes and bags). Just an array of fall leaves from our garden...