Hang On and Help Out

At least they're color-coordinated

Not to rain on anyone's New Year's parade, but honestly, hasn't it been a wretched year?  Or is it just the year?  If we're honest, isn't aging, which occurs every year,  a bitch?

I say this as a person who was diagnosed last week with something called atrial fibrillation, which I never paid much attention to as an illness when I was young and well, although I did notice that there were lots of ads on the evening news for blood thinners that had something to do with AFib.

Now I know.  Palpitations that I thought were an occasional bother, turned out to be caused by an electrical storm in my heart.  And the storm can cause blood to pool, which can cause clots, which can cause strokes. Oh, boy. 

All this I found out when a cardiologist called me on Christmas Eve (I knew it wasn't going to be good news).  He'd analyzed output from a monitor I wore for two weeks, and on the very last day I wore the monitor I had an episode of AFib.

Not to whine, but this was the same week I found out I'm allergic to a glaucoma med, plus I had  to have yet another bone scan to monitor my osteoporosis.

I told the cardiologist this when I met with him on Tuesday.

"All these things going wrong!" I said.

"Well, it's better than the alternative," he said, cheerfully.   He looked about 40 and very fit.

"What causes atrial fibrillation?"

"In your case, aging," he said.  "Now let's talk about blood thinners."  He got very involved in the merits of various meds they advertise on the evening news, which must have a geriatric audience.

Wait until you're 66, I thought.  Just wait.  You get chipped away at.

Yesterday, sitting around a table with my quilt mini-group for our annual Christmas party, I surveyed my friends and catalogued what these 60+ year-olds have gone through:  breast cancer (2), knee replacements (3), lung cancer (2), and now AFib (1).  And these are active, healthy, middle-class people who take care of themselves.   I see clients at the Berkeley Food Pantry who are my age, according to their driver's licenses, who use canes or who have come straight from the hospital after heart attacks.   Poverty seems to accelerate physical decline, which is entirely unacceptable.

We older peeps have gotten wiser with age, and many of us have more money than we did at 25, but there's illness and even tragedy around every bend, if you have your headlights on.   The AARP shows us slender, happy couples in sweats jogging around their retirement community, and God knows happy times are still possible, but let's get real.  At least one of those people is taking blood thinners to avoid stroke.  These decades are booby-trapped.

Anne Lamott says we're here to see each other through,  and I agree.  All we do is hang on and help out.

Anyway, happy New Year.  There are still rewards to be had.  I think.

And the Quilt Winner Is...

 

 At the Berkeley Food Pantry yesterday

 ...Anne Rowe, who bid $175 and then upped it to $200 in effect bidding against herself because she had in mind that that would be her limit.  Very Anne.

She's also a Pantry volunteer herself and coordinates Pantry food donations at her church, First Congregational Church of Berkeley.  She and I met in a water exercise class years ago, and we still do pool exercise every Tuesday and Thursday at the Richmond Plunge (on Tuesdays I drive us and our friend Val in my ancient Camry, and on Thursdays we ride in style in Val's Mercedes).

Gorgeous Weekend, Quilt Inspirations, Last Chance to Bid

Quilt update:  Highest bid is $175.  The auction ends at noon tomorrow, Tuesday, December 6. 

 * * *

Does anyone else feel beleaguered, cranky, and defiant during the month of December?  I do,  and I always have.   I want January 2 to happen right NOW.

I'd been feeling burdened by all that needs doing around the house, inside and out, and on Friday I resolved to by God get a bunch of things done over the weekend,  including bossing Jerry around about some yard jobs. 


But then Saturday morning arrived clear and sunny, and I said to hell with it.  Off we went to West Marin.  Despite the weather, there weren't many people on the road to the coast, and the drive was easy coming and going.  Yay! 

I had two bags of clothes to drop off at the  West Marin Thrift Shop in Pt. Reyes Station,  and while I was doing that, Jerry discovered larvae of the Gulf Fritillary butterfly on a passion vine that grows on a fence just outside the shop.  I found him rummaging around in the back of the car looking for a plastic bag for his captives and their foodplant, delighted in a way only a true eccentric can be.

Me:  That's such a common species [even I know that].   Do you need any more of them ? 

Jerry:  Yes!  What was it doing there in December?  [Providing distraction for people escaping the holidays?]

It morphs into a bright orange butterfly with handsome silvery spots on the underside of its wings.

Then we hiked at Abbott's Lagoon under clear skies and brilliant sun, followed by a stop in town for Magnum ice cream bars in Pt. Reyes Station. On the way home,  I found myself thinking about some kerchiefs I bought in Inverness several years ago and how I could cut them up and use them in a quilt.

Inverness, one of my very favorite places

On Sunday, I still felt rebellious, so we played hooky again and drove out to Mt. Diablo and hiked in Mitchell Canyon.  Hardly anyone on the trail and, again, perfect weather!  Hurray for weekend outings in December!And I found another inspiration for a quilt, this time in the colors of fallen leaves of a native California grape:

All the subtle colors in each leaf

Now it's Monday, and I have a zillion things to do that didn't get done.   Oh, well.

Hope you had time to revel in the weather and maybe play a little hooky.   

The Family Living Quarters in the Obama White House, Oh Boy!

Quilt update:  The highest bid stands at $175.  Deadline to bid is 12 noon on Tuesday, December 6.  Any more bids?  It's a highly deserving cause, and you will have a happier Christmas if you make an offer, I promise.

* * * * *

I rushed over to Barnes & Noble the very day that the latest Architectural Digest was published, because I wanted to see photos of the Obama White House residence--upstairs, where the president lives and the public never goes.

As long-time readers know, I have this odd little hobby of collecting White House guidebooks (I have them from Kennedy to Obama), and I like to see how each family decorates the same old rooms.  This is NOT a political post, but I will say that the worst decorator, in my opinion, was Hillary Clinton's:  Kaki Hockersmith.  What she did the Blue Room should be outlawed.

A few years ago, I found some earlier photos showing how some rooms had evolved from Bush to Obama,  but clearly Michelle Obama and her designer, Michael Smith, have done more work since then.

I wish I had a better camera, but in the meantime, here are the latest photos, starting with the Yellow Oval Room.

The Yellow Oval Room (above and below)

The same room as conceived by Jackie Kennedy during the 1961 renovation:

President Obama's Study:

The same room during the Kennedy Administration, when it was known as the Treaty Room:

 The big table, which was used in the Cabinet Room before 1902, is now used as a desk by President Obama (top)

The upstairs dining room, where the family eats dinner every night:

The upstairs dining room (above and below)

Art by Robert Mangold (1960's)

The same room in 1961, when Jacqueline Kennedy turned a bedroom into a much-needed upstairs dining room.  The wallpaper depicts "Scenes of the American Revolution," and dates to 1834.  Is it in storage somewhere?

The Obama version of the Old Family Dining Room, which is on the State Floor and used for official luncheons and dinners:

 This must be the first time a Rauschenberg painting has appeared in the White House (left)

The Family Sitting Room:

The Family Sitting Room (above and below)

Painting by Sean Scully

The President and First Lady's Bedroom:

And the same room during the Reagan Administration, in Eighties Peach:

Nancy Reagan loved the hand-painted bird wallpaper.  President Clinton apparently spent one night in this room and said the paper had to go.

And finally, the President and his daughters in his study:

I'm wondering how Trump's Versailles-in-the-Sky will translate to the White House?