Mold

 In the past two weeks, I've taken on a time-consuming experiment.  

Years ago, I discovered that I was highly sensitive to mold.  I'd been having body aches consistently--so much so that I suspected I had fibromyalgia. A fortunate accident revealed that the space between the foundation and the floors of my house were infested with mold.  I'd left the AC off during one of our scorching summers when I was out of town, and a leak had occurred while I was out of town.  The floors were buckling so badly that you could literally trip on them.  

I moved out of the house for weeks while the floors were being replaced, and when I came home, I felt so much better.  The mysterious ailment was caused by mold.

Since my foot pain began, I have tried every course of action I know of--including the installation of a spinal cord stimulator.  But every day, when the pain takes me back to bed at almost exactly 11:00, I try to think of one more thing that could work.  

I had all the air ducts in the attic replaced after a worker spotted black spots on the registers in the ceiling.  Anti-mold agents were sprayed into the tiny attic that's barely a crawl space for a small man.  I slept in the casita while the work was being done.  I talked to my pain management doctor who wasn't on board with my theory, insisting that I had neuropathy caused by an injury.  

But I couldn't let it go. 

Here it is 11:00 and I'm going back to bed, unable to stand any longer.  I had started a book and got the first step done and felt, as I do every day at this time, like Cinderella at midnight.  

I'm glad the mold is gone and the pipes are new, but the effects of it on my feet have not been impressive. 

Taking down yesterday's post

Yesterday I wrote a fairly long post called "Choosing and Belonging"--in which I referenced a video I had seen about dogs and cats choosing their humans.  

Afterwards, someone suggested--probably rightly--that that video was likely not real, that it was all AI.

I was embarrassed that I hadn't been savvy enough to detect that, so I deleted the post.  Why?  Because I don't want to reveal my stupidity in this new world of fakery?  Because it always stings to have one's ignorance exposed?  

My second reaction was to look at why that video affected me so much.  Was it because belonging and being chosen are important to me for reasons I won't go into right now?  Was it because one of the best love stories of my life is with a dog?  

There are millions of stories floating around.  We gravitate to some and are unmoved by others.  It's not too big of a stretch to say that our lives are often lived around and shaped by the stories that impact us most. 

Maybe the stories we respond to and believe tell us more about ourselves than the stories themselves?

"The Guest House" in a Tiny Book.

It's been a week of getting rid of mold in my house.  Given that my attic has a very tiny crawl space and the pipes up there were probably approaching the age of the house (77 years), it was a tedious and hot and messy project for my workers, but it's done.

I'm very sensitive to mold, and already  I'm feeling some relief.  I slept in the casita while the work was being done to avoid breathing in those nasty spores, and I also bought a couple of air purifiers.

Meanwhile, my floors are all covered with curls of paper and snippets from pages I'm using to make a whole different kind of book, following the directions from last month's "Book of the Month" in the Handmade Book Club.

The first step is buying one of those board books written for small children, and peeling off all the shiny paper--which is very satisfying.

Collage papers are glued to each page.  I went for neutrals, old book pages and sheet music, dress pattern tissues and tea- and coffee-dyed papers. 

The next step is to type or write a poem.  I chose Rumi's "The Guest House," printing the lines in chunks to fit the pages.  Here's the poem:

The Guest House

Every morning a new arrival, 

A joy, a depression, a meanness, 

Some momentary awareness comes

As an unexpected visitor. 

Welcome and entertain them all,

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows 

Who violently sweep your house empty of all its furniture.

Still, treat each guest honorably. 

He may be clearning you out for some new delight. 

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

Meet them at the door laughing and invite them in. 

Be grateful for whoever comes

Because each has been sent as a guide from above. 

One day, when it's lighter than it is right now, I'll post a photo or two of the finished book.  I am finding it such a satisfying project that I have five of them going.  

A Brand New Year Has Begun--welcome 2026!

70 degrees after a few chilly days, this has been a good day!

I've found a wonderful team of handymen who have accomplished almost everything on my list this week.  Four guys and two of their wives (haven't met the wives yet, but one is a painter, the other a house cleaner and artist) seem prepared to keep me in this house for the long haul.  Sometimes home ownership, especially of old houses, can seem overwhelming, but with trustworthy competent helpers, it's starting to feel less so.

I rarely go to a mall, but Luci accompanied me to North Star Mall and Museum today.  I wanted to take a class at the Apple Store and she wanted to sniff every rock and weed surrounding it.   She also got tons of attention and countless hugs and pats, so she's a happy girl.

Made banana bread this morning, and am just now starting a big pot of bolognese sauce and finishing a tiny book I'm making featuring "The Guest House" by Rumi.  It feels really good to get back to some making!  

The old year turned into the new one without my witnessing it--as I fell asleep after watching the excellent movie, Goodbye June, starring Helen Mirren. 

My intention for 2026 is to witness and observe more, to play more, and to create more.  My bird feeder is hosting all my usual gold finches along with their many friends and neighbors.  

We have a neighborhood fox, a family of skunks, a raccoon or two, and who knows what else in our peaceable little wildlife kingdom.  

Happy 2026 to you all! 

Self Service

Leaving Michaels this morning, I wondered if I'd forgotten to take my blood pressure pill!  

I used to love going there, meandering the aisles, human employees ready to help find things, then friendly cashiers adding up your frames or whatnots, then telling you a total.  If you had a paper coupon, you simply handed it to said human and saved 40%.

Now, there are no humans nearby for checkout, I saw maybe three employees in the entire store.  

First you have to tell the machine if you are a rewards member.  Insert phone number.  Scan your items.  Look on the phone to get the coupon of the day, scan it, and insert your card.  I had to press the red HELP button twice--and a grumpy young man ambled over, rolled his eyes, and reluctantly helped.

For generations who have grown up on QR codes and machines, or for older people who have gotten with the program with more grace than I have, it's no big deal. 

But for me, it's infuriating to have to answer all those questions just to buy three little picture frames.  

I miss Jo Ann's--always well-staffed in the aisles and at check out.  

At Whole Foods next door, you can choose between human checkers and machines, and I always go with humans, even if the line is longer.  Same with HEB and Lowe's.  But even these stores, I predict, are heading toward all machines.

Doctors' offices are even worse.  You get two or three reminder texts for each appointment.  (Remember the day when, if you said you'd be there, you put it on your calendar and you were there?). Then a text with a QR code to fill out the questionnaire online and check in.  (Remember when someone actually called to remind you and when someone else handed you a form to fill out when you arrived?) 

Five minutes into my last appointment, before even getting weighed, I got a text asking me to review this appointment that hadn't even started.

I am literally feeling homesick for former days of friendly human interaction and filling out forms with a pen on paper! 

Highlights of Christmas

Today we're expected to tie the all-time high for San Antonio, 83 degrees--back in the fifties.  In spite of that, we've had a low-key and happy Christmas.

It started with a festive neighborhood party at Jan's house with tamales and all the foods and spirits of good cheer.

Jan got a bowl she wanted in the pass-around game of presents,
and she was daring anyone to steal it! 

Christmas started a week early for Elena--when her parents surprised her with the horse she's had her eye on for a while, a young sorrel a friend in 4H was selling. 

She's grown up on Yancy, and riding on him (after wilder Clown) still "feels like a Cadillac" in comparison.  Yancy's well-trained and has taken her through many rodeos, but Clown is hers to train.  She's smitten.  

So on Christmas morning Luci and I  set out to pick up Pam to go see a horse.  And have breakfast.  And see Nathan before he left for his other family's.  

Luci looked out the window while we waited for Pam, then perked up when she saw her coming.   And off we rolled!

First Christmas in the Pritchett's new house (out near China Grove) 

Meanwhile in Virginia, half a year after getting his Masters, Jackson landed a job he's excited about in Richmond!  And one of Marcus' recent sports interviewees, turns out, to be more than the subject of a sports profile--on which I may say more when and if I'm given more to say.   All I know now is that her name is Lucia, an athlete from Spain. 

Sending all my best wishes to all of you for the happiest of holidays!

It's almost 80 degrees, so Texas looks nothing like the pictures you see on Christmas cards--but here we go, doing San Antonio and Santa Claus in shorts. 

Luci got a leash-less walk from Ms. Santa--which she quite appreciated, and will accompany me to Jan's party next door in an hour, then to the Pritchetts tomorrow to romp with her cousins (or maybe nephews?) Charlie and Marlow and Conway, the latter of whom, against all odds a month or so ago, is getting another Christmas on this side of the Rainbow Bridge. 

Christmas decorations look a little ridiculous, I thought--musing as we walked.  Inflatable snowmen, inflatable nutcrackers, and inflatable Santas in snow.  But oh well, it's South Texas and you never know what you're gonna get.

Not a creature was stirring as we walked, as far as we could see.  I did manage to make 100 cookies and a paper kimono this afternoon.  But I very much like the "no presents, experiences instead" that our family has adopted this year.  Will's family took me out to Ladana at the Pearl this week and we had a wonderful time!

Day's family went to a Spurs game in D.C.

A change in tradition

After toying with changing Christmas traditions for a few years, my family and I have decided to forego Christmas gifts this year.  It's kind of exciting, to tell the truth--the prospect of not having to shop and wrap and ship gifts because the calendar says it's time.

I love giving and receiving gifts, but am finding it more pleasurable to do so on birthdays or random occasions.  

One family is going to a local theater production of Annie in lieu of gifts.  Some people agree to give gifts to people in need instead of exchanging gifts with friends and family.  We are going cold turkey and hoping to find other ways of being together--with the time we'll save by not shopping. 

Among my friends, we all seem to agree that a meal out or at each others' houses is a great substitute for wrapped gifts.

I feel liberated today without the prospect of frenzied shopping, and without the worry of whether or not the receivers, especially men, will even like my choices.  

Pain and Pudding--while we're on the letter P

The stress of driving set off my feet, so I'm spending the day in bed reading.  Enough about that.

After nearly five years with my furry girl, I thought I knew everything, but she revealed a hidden passion last night.  

Unlike her human mama,  Luci always turns up her nose at any offering of sweets.  She doesn't even like Starbucks' pup cups or ice cream.  Chocolate doesn't tempt her one bit.   She does the Corgi look of disapproval every time--as in "You actually eat that stuff?" 

In my near-empty refrigerator last night, I spotted three or four packs of one of my favorite treats--a cross between vanilla pudding and creme brûlée, excellent with berries of any kind on top. They are packaged in little glass jars as a French dessert--in vanilla, rice pudding, dark chocolate, or pistachio.  Day included some of these in a Whole Foods order of food for my recovery days after dental surgery, and I've been hooked ever since.   

The little glass pots are great for storing do-dads and paper clips and batteries.

Knowing how she feels about sweets, I've never offered Luci a bite, but last night her eyes said, "Let me try that," and I did.

She got that Nirvana look on her face as she delicately licked the first spoonful, then the next, then the next.  I think she has been won over to Sugarland--at least the pudding variety.  Now she follows me every time I go to the refrigerator--just in case. 

All the P's of Monday Morning

After a short walk with Luci, 

just long enough for a Poop and a Pee 

I am eating Popcorn, Pasta, and Pumpkin bread--

and soon going to bring in some beautiful Papers I bought in Virginia 

and open the Packages that arrived in my absence--

after my morning Puff,  American Spirit.  Inside, not outside

as is my morning ritual 

at home.

I made it to genius on Spelling Bee

Then went to Spelling Bee Buddy for hints,

to make it all the way to Queen Bee

(with the word Palp!) 

before un-Packing the car.

It's going to be one good lazy day! 

Notice the irony of the three P's in these two adjacent signs in Natchez: