I am resigned...

 ....  to getting old, I guess,  New heart valve or no, I am slower now, and creakier.  I am not imagining it - there has been a definite change in the past year, whether accelerated by the disruptions of COVID it is hard to say.

I can say that I don't like what COVID has brought out in us.  We have all become fearful.  I'm not saying that it was without reason, but still, it is not a pretty sight, to see us all cowering.  I'm trying to wean myself from the now-instinctive fear of other humans, and human contact, but I still flinch when someone hugs me.  So, although I - mostly -wear a mask indoors when I am apt to see (possibly unvaccinated) strangers, I am out and about, at the gym, at the community center, at the bridge table, and at live events such as lectures, movies, and live music.  I know, I know, COVID is still around,  But so is the flu, and in all these years, I have never - to my knowledge - gotten it.  So, as much as I am able, I am back in the world....

The truth of the matter is, I have not personally been touched.  Noone I know has had COVID, much less died from it.  No, I don't think it was a hoax cooked up by the liberal elite, but for me personally it was a lot of anxiety around a phantom....

So, what have I been up to?  Dinner and Scrabble with friends Marvin

...and his partner Geoff...

.......dinner with friend Michael, with whom - thank you Facebook, I have been reunited after 55 years....

,,,,,face to face bridge....

.....David (left), director of this very small club, and his partner Robert...

.... Sue, previously seen in these pages.  She is another player at the club.  I had great hopes for a  friendship once upon a time, but apparently I am not up to her standards, either as a bridge player or a companion....

.......Darren, my sometimes partner (we are having a bit of a break right now, as bridge partners sometimes do..) 

......and more good byes.  This is the group - or part of it - from the gym, saying farewell for the season to the snowbirds at Tropicale....

(I used to hang out at Tropicale lots - it is by far my favorite watering hole (if I can be said to have one, but haven't been since pre-COVID)

....had friend Elaine over for yet another goodbye - she's heading back to Alberta for the season...

...she brought me lovely tulips...

.....and went to Michael's house for more Scrabble....

It's probably a good thing I move more slowly now, otherwise complete boredom might set in....

What else can I tell you?

Well, if I am being totally honest, I guess I should tell you that I  have become resigned to not being on anyone's A List.  It started years ago, in high school, and has continued over the years.  Easy to shove those thoughts aside, in the rush of work and vacations and leisure activities of my own making.  Not so easy to avoid now, when reaching out to folks has been singularly unsuccessful.  So, I'm reconcilds.  I don't  really fit in anywhere - not rich enough, not smart enough, not congenial enough.

I know, get off the pity pot.  I'll try tor next time...

No April Showers here.....

Well, it's a start.....

These are the lasst grapefruits from the trees here, and I am very much enjoying my daily glass of goodness...

I've charged my camera, and have figured out how to download pictures from my phone.  Usually, the fact that Google is everywhere gives me the creeps, but the fact that pictures on my phone are also on my computer - no downloads or wires required - well, it's still pretty creepy, but damned convenient.

If I'm going to keep going out, I will have to start keeping a calendar again, so I can report back to you.  And I'll have to remember to document everything with pictures.

Getting up early for walks has benefits - see above for sunrise in our complex.  In any event it is my best time to day.  I alluded to the decline in my cheerfullness facttor in my last post.  In that respect too, mornings are my best time.  By late afternoon, I am remembering the slights of a lifetime.

Maybe I should start blogging in the morning?

What else can I tell you?  Took friend Scott and his bride Susie (and mutual friend Darren) out to dinner for Scott's birthday last week, and added another restaurant to my repertoire. It is called Guiseppe's, another great Italian restaurant here in the Desert.  Very low key, but good food and nice atmosphere.  I will definitely go again.

Lunch with Linda the following day, an acquaintance from bridge, who I've been trying to cultivate, but things like the pandemic and her husband's ongoing illness have intervened.  We finally, connected, though, and I think this will be ongoing.  I certainly hope so - I enjoyed our chat immensely,

Snowbirds are starting to leave, hence group pictures will be forthcoming...

 

....this is my aerobics class,.  (We've all migrated from zumba, pre-pandemic, so old friends by now.

(I should also mention that Dale and Mike, the two gentlemen in the back, had a party for the class a few weeks ago in their lovely home in Palm Springs.  I will have to remember to bring my camera - or at the very least, start using my phone......)

Most recently friends Caroline and Lou - had me over for lunch and Scrabble.  We play on line every day, but have always played face-to-face on occasion, and we enjoy our afternoons doing so.  They are heading back to Manitoba soon, so this was our last opportunity for a while....

I've managed to get some more reading done.  

Why We're Polarized, by Ezra Klein, talks about, well, why we're polarized.  It is not a happy-making book, but it is a plausible explanation, and those of you who know me know that this stuff  - i.e., why we behave as we do - fascinates.me.  Along the same lines is a book called Grit, by Angela Duckworth.  Her premise?  Talent is all very well and good, but the best predictor of success - in just about anything - is perseverance, in other words, grit,

(On a personal level, I wouldn't know anything about that.  I have been lucky that things came easily to me.  If they would have been hard, I never would have completed them.  On an intellectual level, however, I completely agree with her....)

In terms of fiction, I read Hanya Yanagihara's book called The People in the Trees.  I have read her  earlier book, A Little Life, and a later one, To Paradise.  They are unhappy books all - she must be one traumatized lady - but page turners every one.

Finally, I'm starting to re-read all the Nero Wolf mysteries - and, while I'm at it, to add those that I don't have to my collection.  They are great reads, and do their part to keep me out of mischief!

Ta ta for now....

I've Declared The Pandemic Officially Over

 No, I'm not so dumb to think that it's really over.  I just think it has gone from a pandemic to an endemic. We have vaccines.  We have better treatments.  The flu mutates every year.  we modify the vaccine every year, we are careful, but we don't stay home.

I'm too old to stay home another year.  

So, I am back out and about.  Hence the revival of the blog.  (It would have been way too boring for the last 5 months.) 

I have gone back to the gym (masked, although no longer required here in Riverside County) for my strength training classes three days a week,.  I'm back to the senior center (proof of vaccine required, masks optional but all in the class - and the instructor - are masked) for aerobics classes two days a week.  And I'm still trying to walk at least 10 miles a week....

The weather is glorious.  Definitely convertible weather, cool in the morning, deliciously warm in the afternoons.

And face-to-face bridge is back.  (Again, proof of vaccine required, masks optional, noone wearing them.)  This is bittersweet.  Lots of people not feeling comfortable enough to attend.  But lots of people now playing in the great bridge game in the sky.  No, they didn't die of COVID, just of old age.

Trying not to cringe when I'm hugged - we are all so fearful....

And - how could I forget - back to live theater and music (masks and vaccines required).  I've mentioned Coachella Valley Rep, a small theater company nearby which I've supported for a number of years.  

First to open, a play called Bakersfield Mist, about a woman living in a trailer park who thinks she found an original masterpiece in a thrift store, and what ensues.  It was surprisingly good - or we were all so starved for live entertainment that we thought it so.  We were all delighted.

Next, a musical revue, called Closer than Ever.  Not profound, but charming, and, again, if was the being there.

No question that the McCallum Theater offerings were good.  Jersey Boys is always a hit, and this production was no exception.  And they have symphony here in the Desert - who knew? - and I was lucky enough to score a ticket from a friend who couldn't attend.  Surprisingly, if was a mostly Russian program, well conducted and well played.  And the acoustics in the McCallum are fabulous!  (I will try to get season's tickets for next season...)

Classes are starting to get back to face to face - I couldn't deal with them on Zoom - so hopefully in the spring...

And, of course, the Metropolitan Opera Live in HD is back in movie theaters - Ariadne auf Naxus a few weeks ago, and this week, Don Carlos, both fabulous!

Of course, I continue to read voraciously.   Peter sent me a care package from San Francisco - a box of ole New Yorkers  and Economists, and between the library, the bookstore, and circulation of good reads among friends and neighbors, books abound.

In no particular order:

How to Change, by Angela Duckworth

Bubble  in the Sun: The Florida Boom of the 1920's and How It Brought on The Great Depression, by Christopher Knowlton

A History of the World in Six Glasses, by Tom Standage

Talking to Strangers:  What We Should Know about the People We Don't Know, by Malcolm Gladwell

The Elements of Choice:  Why The way We Decide Matters, by Eric J. Johnson

Thinking, Fast and Slow, by Daniel Kahneman

The Sweet Spot:The Pleasures of Suffering and The Search for Meaning, by Paul Bloom

High as the Waters Rise, by Anja Kampmann

Dust, by Martha Grimes

Blood and Oranges: The Story of Los Angeles, by James Oliver Goldsborough

Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds, by Charles MacKay (this is an oldie - 1850's or so.  I used to have it in my collection, and when I discovered it missing, reordered it and re-read it.)

(Reviews of all of the above available on request....)

And let's not forget the books I listen to - I couldn't do all that exercise - which most of you know I loathe - without audio books, downloaded to my phone from the library, free of charge gratis - and enough to keep me moving. Again, in no particular order:

Nomadland, by Jessica Bruder (fascinating, about older people who have lost their homes, wandering around America in trailers doing low paid seasonal work....);

Mexican Gothic, by Sylvia Moreno Garcia, a horror story, no less (a genre I hate, but couldn't stop listening....);

My Dark Vanessa, by Kate Elizabeth Russell, about the sexual relationship between a 15 year old and her teacher,, and its aftermath,( again, not my thing but unable to stop listening)

Calypso, by David Sedaris...

... to name just a few, and not to bore you with the romances and mysteries interspersed with the weird stuff...

And how do I feel? Well, my health is good.  I had heart surgery in early February (heart valve replacement, pretty common, apparently).Mentally, not so good.  The pandemic has taken its toll, leaving my good nature in tatters.  

More anon.  And pictures as well - as usual with a long absence, I have to learn the procedure anew.  Those of you who are still with me, thank you for caring enough.  The good, the bad, the ugly, all will follow.

Have I Left a Mark?

 I try not to write when I am feeling funky, but in the absence of therapy (which I have never undergone, by the way), I feel the need to talk myself out of this,

I'm not the center of anyone's life.  There were only brief moments when I was.  Jefferey (my first husband) loved me to death for a time, and I was probably the center of his universe then.  But I treated him very badly - thought he was not smart enough or clever enough or sophisticated enough, I guess - and then that was over.  And for David, I was an exotic flower, and he loved me, as much as anyone could have.  By the time I met him, I had learned more about what was superficial and what was real.  He was the real deal, and I honored him, and was lucky to have had him.  But he has been dead for 15 years.....

But, you will say, you have so many friends.  And I do.  And I do understand how lucky I am to have them.  But they all, first and foremost, owe their first loyalty to others.  I honor that.  I do.  But it makes me feel, well, untethered.  Was it Bob Dylan (or someone else from the 60's?) who said "freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose..."?   I am, indeed free.  I have no obligations to anyone - no parents, no siblings, no spouse, no children - and my friends don't need me.  I would love to be of use to them, but they have other people to call on, I guess, although I keep offering.

So, I am adrift.  Don't get me wrong.  My life is pretty benign - a lovely place to live, good food (most of the time), good books, good music, good bridge, good conversation....

....but.....

....so, you will say, if you are not feeling useful to those you know, make yourself useful to others.  But there's the rub.  I don't much like the great unwashed out there (still a snob, I guess - I come by it honestly, my parents were both snobs in their different ways...), and would be just as likely to smack them on the side of the head and say "get a life" than to serve them soup.

And why am I such a snob, you might ask.  It is not like my attributes, such as they are, are in such high demand.  That is part of the funk, I suppose.  Now that I am spending more time here, I have been trying to reach out here and there, to expand my circle, with very little success.  Oh, people are friendly enough when I call, and a few Scrabble games and dinners have resulted, but no real connection.

But it has often been thus.  I am still acutely hurt by attempts past - far in the past.  I so looked up to Suzanne and Karen, and wanted to be part of their circle.  But in spite of the fact that they were - are - educated and cultured, they preferred the company of Carolyn, neither cultured nor educated nor even a high school graduate who wouldn't know opera from rap....  the current example have less hero worship, but just as much feeling of exclusion.  Now that I think of it, I am just like my father in his later years....

Maybe I'm just too needy.  People don't like people who are needy.  I try not to sound or act needy, but I guess it shows.  And why am I needy?  Here's the rub.  I've never liked people wo blame their parents or their genes or their upbringing for their circumstances.  But here I am, feeling like damaged goods - or maybe a sociopath - because I can't connect on any real level with other human beings.  Oh, I am polite - sometimes charming even, I like to believe - but not connected.  

Back to the title of this post: have I made a mark?  I am reading a book called "The Invisible Life of Addie Larue (by Victoria Schaab).  It is about a girl in rural, medieval, France, who, in effect, sells her soul to the Devil to escape the prison of the world she was confined to as a young girl in that time and place.  The price extracted by the Devil is that she will live forever, but never make a mark; noone will remember her.  And, frightened and alone, that is what I feel like.  (In spite of the fact that it has obviously depressed me, it is a good book....)

Okay, enough of the pity pot....  I'm 75 years old, for god's sake, it is time to stop caring about whether anyone likes me or not, and acting like a moody teenager.  My life, superficial and self centered as it is, is quite enough, thank you very much.  Things don't have to be that intense; life isn't opera, after all.  (I've always said that opera spoils you for real life,  Maybe I wasn't wrong....)

Please forgive the outburst of self pity.  I will no doubt be over it by the time you read this.  And, in spite of it all, I do very much realize how lucky I am, and am still grateful for whatever part of their lives my friends are willing to give me.....

Back safe and sound

This time the delay was deliberate - I wanted to wait to make sure I hadn't caught anything yucky on my trip before I wrote again.  I seem to be okay, so am reporting in.

The trip to San Francisco was as it should be, uneventful.  Until I got to the San Francisco airport, that is, when my limitations became apparent.  I usually take BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit, for the uninitiated) from the airport to town.  This time, though, by the time I finished the airport sprint, through miles and miles of airport corridors, masked, I could barely breathe.  No, make that I couldn't breathe at all.  It was all I could do to make it to the taxi.  Luckily, the price of a taxi doesn't seem to have gone up at all (at the time that I arrived, Uber was twice as expensive), and by the time I got to the San Francisco Suites, I had my breathe back.

The San Francisco Suites is new for me, so let me explain.  Since Hank died several years ago (Peter's place has been off limits for sleepovers for decades) staying over in San Francisco has been catch-as-catch-can.  For a while, I was staying at the Hays Valley Inn, a b & b a few blocks from the opera, but that has gotten way too expensive.  Enter friend Geoff, who is on the board of the Suites.  It is a time share of sorts; I won't bore you with the details, but a share entitles the owner to a suite for $200 a night, or sometimes less, depending on the circumstances.  That passes for cheap in San Francisco, so I recently "adopted" a share.

The location is great (Powell and Pine, for those of you who know San Francisco), and the rooms are delightful.

The people are great too, more like a b & b (without the breakfast) than a hotel, and I am already looking forward to staying there again.

Friend Geoff happened to be staying there as well, and after wine and cheese in his room, we met friend Peter (previously often mentioned in these pages) at Kokkari for dinner.  Kokkari has been voted best restaurant in San Francisco by the critics, and it is our favorite too.

There's Geoff, below....

... and, of course, Peter

Peter and Geoff are from different parts of my life, but have a lot in common, and get along famously.  And, of course, I love them both.  Great conversation, and, of course, great food...  Generally speaking, I am not one to take pictures of food, but...

..... those are smelts, an appetizer I had been looking forward to since my last visit a number of years ago.  They were even better than I remembered.  The main course was lamb (did I say it was a Greek restaurant?).  All yummy.  Too expensive for regular visits, but still my go-to place for a special occasion.

The next day, Peter introduced me to West Edge Opera. a small opera company which he supports.  With good reason, it turns out (not that I doubted him).  They don't have a permanent home, so it is catch-as-catch-can with venues.  This one was in a small outdoor theater in the East Bay, specifically, Orinda.  They were performing Eliogabalo, by Cavali.  No, I hadn't heard of it either, but as early music operas go, the music was quite wonderful.

As you can see, the location was spectacular...  and the staging - nudity and all - actually worked.

The next day, we headed off for Santa Fe, the main reason for the trip.  Because of the timing of the opera on the subsequent four nights, the first night was the only night we were going to have time for a serious dinner.  We did, at a Mexican restaurant called La Cena.

As you can see, lovely spot...

... and here I am, taking pictures of food again...

....couldn't help myself.  The presentation was so lovely, and yes that is caviar....

The fly in the ointment?  Although I have been to Santa Fe many times before, I forgot about the altitude - 8.000 feet or so?  I couldn't breath during the day, and couldn't sleep very well at night (although the hotel, Drury Plaza was quite adequate).  It slowed me down, but didn't stop me.  Luckily, having been to Santa Fe numerous times, I didn't have any touristy agenda items, just the opera, which we managed quite well.  More about that below.

We did see the cathedral (again), and a number of the museums and galleries in town.

.....spent some time in the plaza....

..... and met up with Stephen, an old college buddy of Peter's, for lunch.

Mexican again, but I have to say that the Mexican food in Santa Fe is very different from the Tex Mex we get in California - much spicier, for starters....

And now, the opera....

As you can see. open air. masks required, and distancing enforced with empty seats between bubbles, so felt quite safe...  The four operas were Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, John Corigliano's The Lord of Cries (a world premier, more about it below). Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin (the big draw for me; a favorite  not performed all that often in North America) and Benjamin Britten's Midsummer Night's Dream (not my favorite of Shakespeare;s plays, but you know me - anything Shakespeare will do...).  

The singing was uniformly good - it always is at Santa Fe, the staging mostly so.  The exception, unfortunately, was Eugene Onegin.  The director was American, but otherwise met the definition of Eurotrash - the director getting in the way of the story and the music.

Re The Lord of Cries, the story was a mash-up of Dracula and The Bachae by Euripides - sounds just like something I'd like, right?  (NOT)  Turns out, it was quite wonderful story, music and staging.  I would see it again if it were on offer - although perhaps not too often (too intense).

Going to the opera with Peter is always magical - not only the opera, but Peter's knowledgeable conversation about the opera, the singers, and, of course, music world gossip.  

We flew back to San Francisco the day following the last opera.  I stayed one more night at the Suites, and flew back to Palm Springs the next day.  The visit was undoubtedly a success, but I was happy to get home.  I felt very fragile out there....

The following week included a return to bridge (considering how much I had been playing before the trip, it is amazing I didn't go into withdrawal without it), and dinner at Sami G's with Sue...

It is one of our favorite Italian restaurants in town, and neither of us had been for a long time, so great fun.

And, finally, the long promised book list....

I have been reading (and listening to) lots of trash, including popular novels by David Baldacci and Harlan Coben.  For trash, it is actually pretty well written.  The recurring theme, of course, is the past coming to haunt the present.  Resonates with me.  

Other trash, in the mystery rather than the thriller vein, was The Noel Letters, by Richard Paul Evans, and Transient Desires, by Donna Leon.  The latter is part of a series, set in Venice, and I hope to ultimately read all of them.  Also, read Troubled Blood, by Robert Galbraith, aka JKRowling, very good indeed.  

I had read The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides some time back.  It was his first novel, and a very intelligent thriller.  His second book, The Maidens, was just as good.  I think we have a winner.

There were a number of rejects:  The best of Elizabeth Hand (highly touted short stories, two thumbs down); Whereabouts, by Indian writer Jhumpa Lahiri (couldn't get into it); and Dark Tides by Philippa Gregory (discovered I had already read it).

On a more serious note, The Premonition: a Pandemic Story, by Michael Lewis.  I would read anything he wrote (and have), and in the current circumstances, this was very worth while.  Hemmet, by Maggie O'Farrell.  This was actually a novel, but based on Shakespeare's life, and, more specifically, on the (short) life of Hammet, his son.  (Shakespeare wrote Hamlet - another form of Hammet in Elizabethan English - shortly after his son's death.  I devour all things Shakespeare, as some of you know.  This was a great addition.

Then This is your Life on Plants, by Michael Pollen.  This one was a disappointment.  I used to like his books, but now he has got a been in his bonnet about psychedelic drugs, and it is getting boring.  Thumbs down.  

Finally, I am reading the ultimate biography of Toscanini, by Harvey Sachs.  I love biographies anyway, but this one is particularly fascinating, involving as it does the whole history of modern opera, not to mention the literary and cultural history of the 20th century (it is amazing to me how much of it is familiar, and like revisiting old friends).  This was given to me by Geoff (see above), and I couldn't be more thrilled.

Well, that's all folks.  As we are all going back into COVID hibernation, I don't know how much there will be to write about, but I will keep you apprised....

Another week (okay, 3) and the world has changed

 

Friend Sue and I went for lunch at Billy Reeds.  Twice.  (Actually, the first time was for dinner....)  Sue had never been there before - I actually don't think she had ever heard of it - and it is one of my favourites - so I had to introduce her to it.   She loves it, and it is so fun when you introduce a friend to one of your favs and she loves it too.  It is really only a glorified diner, but it has been a Palm Springs go- to for forever - it is still on the list!!!!

Also went on Thursday to Encina. for a get together with the bunch from the gym....

... we have these get-togethers five or six times a year, and even the heat of the summer can't stop us!

But all that has stopped now.  The bridge club has "paused" face-to-face games even for the fully vaccinated, to see how the new Delta variant of COVID plays out.  The gym and zumba are still open, but I have paused them, discretion being the better part of valour and all of that.  It is sort of fitting that the gym get-together will be my last (local) outing for a while.  Dorothy's (pictured immediately above) 80th birthday party, in March 2019, was the last outing before everything closed down then....

I am going on an outing, though, previously planned and not readily cancelled.  I am heading out to San Francisco and Santa Fe for opera, and any other cultural events that I can fit into 10 days....  I'm going with Peter, my long time opera buddy.  I will be careful of course, double mask on the plane, etc.  Let's hope for the best.

I will probably not write while I'm gone - I am not taking a computer - and the book list will have to wait.  Can't do it now.

Ta ta for now....

Yesterday was my 75th birthday.  Three quarters of a century - who would have thought?  My birthday line for a while has been, "If I'd known I would live this long, I would have taken better care of myself..."  It still applies..... 

I had a lovely day.  Lots of cards - yes, real cards - and calls and Facebook shoutouts and emails.  The bridge director told everyone in the club, it seems like, and my partner of the day even baked a cake.  And neighbor Michael took me to Norma's at the Parker, an exclusive little spot in the neighborhood.

It was a delightful evening, our first celebrating my birthday (this is the first year I have been here in the summer...)

Between Zumba

... and bridge....

... and the gym, my days are getting fuller. I am also babysitting friend Michael #2's cat, which takes some time.   

I promised you pictures of the house, though...

...... and the neighborhood'''

.

.and now, to bed.  But know that I am grateful for all of the good wishes, and am content.

More anon