It Ain't Real Technology If It Don't Work Right

Current Status... I try to tell myself a woman of my age can stay abreast of new technologies. I tell myself the devices I can't work are either civilization-as-we-know-it destroyers or don't deserve the designation "technology" unless they both work, and are intuitive to operate. Intuitive by my lights, not some under-25 male nerd's so-called intuition. I'm pretty adamant about this, despite the fact that I'm rapidly turning into an elderly driver who seemingly can no longer multitask while motoring at night. Last week I got stopped (though not ticketed) by a state trooper who pointed out that I'd been slowing down and veering onto the shoulder while cars went around me. I was stunned, and also doubted him, as I would have heard the warning sound of tires hitting the edging of rough pavement meant to wake up sleepy operators, but had the wit to keep quiet and let him come up with my excuse: Was I tuning my radio? Oh yes, that's right, I was. (In truth, I was trying to find and start a podcast on my iPod while opening and consuming a small packet of veggie crisps, in the dark. Shoulda been a no-brainer.) Probably I did slow down, but that's only intuitive, right?

Lately I'm thinking... that it's Winter's fault. It's too dark, for too long. And my youth-oriented Toyota Matrix doesn't have as many niches for "stuff" as I require. Wearing 3 layers on a frigid day when I wear an extra jacket for the office party means I can't bend my arms or reach things in my car. Winter makes me helpless. Here's what happened last night --- 

This is really interesting... It was the first time I was wearing a new blue-tooth device to help me be "hands-free" while driving. Which works beautifully a) in daylight and b) as long as all I need to do is turn the damn thing On or Off. But, in the frigid dark, with my useless arms and my bulky gloves, I must have hit the wrong teeny-tiny button, because the Verizon Voice started listing Missed Calls and asking if I wanted to call the person back. "No, no, no!" I shouted. "Go away! Leave me alone!" Which, of course, The Voice does not understand, being a robot and not intuitive at all. So I ripped the device out of my ear --- since you have to hold the right button down for 4 seconds to turn it off. That seemed to have worked, and I turned it back on and wrested it back into place. But now, The Voice had taken something she'd heard as a "Yes," and was ringing someone, I didn't know who. I flung the BlueTooth from my ear again and held the button till I saw the red light: Off! Back on one more time, and it's ringing me now. I press the button to answer. It keeps ringing. Do this twice more before realizing the Bluetooth sings Die Valkyrie, it doesn't ring. My phone is ringing. Where is my phone? Somewhere deep in my black bag in my dark car. I dig and dig. Naturally, by the time I find it, the ringing has stopped. I check VoiceMail: It was Stewart. "I know you're trying to reach me," he says, "but it's not working, so try the land line." Grrr! You betcha it's not working! And I'm not doing it --- I'm not calling him back. I already know I can't use the cell phone and drive down the Saw Mill Parkway at 55 mph. I toss away the phone and start feeling around for the Bluetooth. But it's obviously bounced: it's not on the seat, not in my lap, probably on the cold, dark floor. My intuition tells me I was somewhat better off when I couldn't be reached while driving an automobile.

Currently reading... World's End, by T.C. Boyle, which after 50 pages or so is about 100 times better than my last book, The Spies of Warsaw, by Alan Furst. Reading Furst's novel turned out to be a quotidian experience. The general premise was interesting, but could have been dealt with more interestingly in a short story or nonfiction essay. There was no suspense, not even when the story cried out for it. The French colonel keeps putting himself in great danger, but nothing bad or even scary ever happens. At the end, he marries the girl, who could have been a spy for the "other side," but, of course, wasn't. Feh. If he's going to make bestseller money, shouldn't he be writing better books? (Another old-fashioned idea.)

The Soapbox: Hope is greater than fear. And I hope things get better soon. To attain your personal best, visit Women in Transition. To save your home or the home of a family you know, contact Seneca Debt Assistance at 1-888-808-1342. 

Right With the Times

Current Status... Oh, it's the solstice holidays, and it's dark most of the time, and nobody feels much like working. I miss my cat Emma, who died in mid-November; she came to my lap every time I crawled into bed and I'd sink my fingers into her bunny-soft fur. She was funny, a typically nervous tortoise-shell, but she enjoyed having her calico belly rubbed endlessly. There'll never be another cat like her. In the meantime, though, we have a new adoptee -- an 11-year-old torty-point Himalayan whose owner grew too old to care for her. Chanel's very sweet, but still prefers hiding under furniture to any type of confrontation, even loving ones. She's just beginning to trust me. Still, I hold her for a time each day and brush her long fur; very satisfying.
This is really interesting... November 4, 2008 to January 20, 2009 seems like the longest, slowest transition period in our nation's history (except, maybe, for Hoover to Roosevelt). From the day after the national election, people have wanted Mr. Obama to find a way to get into the White House anywhere from "a little early" to "right now." Lacking the requisite change in statutes, however, it's already as if he's at the helm, captaining the ship, giving the orders -- except that there's still a gremlin in the cargo hold, poking holes in the hull with a hand drill (Mr. Bush).
Lately I've Been Thinking... Why can't Dubya go lame, this d(umb cl)uck? Why must he lease drilling rights to hundreds of thousands more wilderness acres? Why must he make it impossible to save endangered species if someone wants to build a strip mall? Why must he go on making it easier and easier to lop off Appalachian mountain tops, and bury West Virginia streams and rivers in dirt, stone and tree trunks? Someone, perhaps Cheney, must think they'll slow the next administration's progressive agenda by creating an infinite number of last-minute "wrongs" that must be "righted" before real progress can be made. Bastards.
Currently reading... The Spies of Warsaw, Alan Furst's new book. It's actually my "first Furst," though I've been meaning to check him out. He's not as great a writer as LeCarre, of course, but his spy stories do take place in WWII, and I enjoy that time period. Plotting is good, too -- you don't see things coming. I find it fascinating to be inside the head of a French officer. This book made the NYTimes Top 10 of the year. I'm almost done -- stay tuned for the final review.
The Soapbox: You can always choose hope, not fear.
P.S... Don't forget to visit the Women in Transition coaching Web site!

Why Must Flying Be So Uncomfortable?

Current Status... I'm still thinking about air travel and how unpleasant it is. We all hate it --- from frequent business flyers to family travelers. Because we are not treated well, though the airlines pretend to be doing us a series of great favors. It's like the old saw: "Speed, Quality, Low Cost --- you can have two out of three." Only with air travel, you're really lucky to get one.

Lately I'm thinking... I'm an infrequent flyer and have recent experience only with American and Delta, but I won't be using Delta again, since they canceled my connecting flight WHILE I WAS IN THE AIR. Grrrr, the NERVE. And I would have forgiven them if they had arranged an alternative connection for me, as airlines did in the old days, before computerization --- but I was on my own, without a cell phone. What a horrible, long, long day that was! More recently, American seems to shine at the rare quality of timeliness, but they accomplish this by herding us like sheep dogs nipping at our heels --- into planes that are full and inhumanely cramped. Narrow seats; your front neighbor tilts his oily scalp into your lap, and your lateral companions' every move and expression of discomfort are cause for annoyance. You can't get 8 fluid oz. of water from the steward, and you pay an extra $15 to $25 just to check one bag.

This is really interesting... Imagine a near future in which American companies have figured out how to make air transport profitable through altternative fuels and lighter aircraft, while at the same time pleasing their customers into feelings of deepest brand loyalty. Aircraft designed to comfortably accommodate humans of every "class," while retaining some degree of privacy and dignity. Dangling, personally sanitized glass tubes, like in hamster cages, where you can suck at a nipple to get infinite amounts of pure, cool water without balancing a glass during turbulence. One stowed bag free, of course. More small planes flying directly to more cities. Air quality excellent from gate to tarmac to sky and down again. No more boring instructions before the flight. Fresh fruit, gourmet coffee. Ahhh.

Currently reading... The Spies of Warsaw, Alan Furst's new book. It's actually my "first Furst," though I've been meaning to check him out. He's not as great a writer as LeCarre, but his spy stories do take place in WWII and I enjoy that time period. Plotting is good, too --- you don't see things coming. 

The Soapbox: Always choose hope, not fear.  PS---don't forget to check out life coaching for Women in Transition. 

You Can Go Home Again, It Just Takes Some Preparation

Current Status... I had a really great trip to Tulsa. Of course, it's still the mecca of sprawl, but they have great skies, cloud formations, interesting weather. And a super restaurant where I had my first, but not last, surely, Bonefish Martini (Vodka, Champagne & Cranberry Juice Cocktail! mmmm!). But mostly, a relaxed and fun time with two sisters and a brother-in-law -- all of whom are sharp of mind and wit.

Lately I'm thinking... I'm a little bit easier with the Sandwich Generation thing: Mom is doing all right where she is, even if it is a nursing home. She needs nursing! And my sister Lynn stays on top of any changes or special needs. If I let it get to me, her life is sad, sad, sad; but I fight that feeling, because Mom doesn't think it's so sad. She does spend a lot of time sleeping, from both boredom and weakness. She doesn't have the get-up-and-go, never has, of the 101-year-old woman who daily shoves her walker around the entire concourse, speaking to everyone. Though Mom was really, really cheered up to see all 3 daughters at once, to keep her in that revved-up state would require nothing less than our continual presence -- our continual, sleep-in presence. 

This is really interesting... In a few days, the whole airline scam is going to get my full attention here. I've been flying for 40 years, and it's like knowing what a REAL tomato tastes like. I remember when you weren't forced into such close and uncomfortable physical contact with your neighbors to either side, front and rear. And a transportation employee would never have dared to "pat down" a respectable matron. R-E-S-P-E-C-T: give-a-little, give-a-little!

Currently reading... I brought home a couple of thick books on the intersection of science and religion. Should be very interesting, but may take me a long, long time to get through.

The Soapbox: Choose hope, not fear.

Going Home

Current Status... I do my annual visit home to Tulsa the same way I do Trish Daily, which is quite a bit less than daily--semi-weekly if I'm on a roll. That is to say, not quite every year. That is my resistance to parents who taught their three girls to devote their lives to pleasing folks who could not even be pleased. I thought moving far away would break the cycle, but no. The umbilical is stretched taut but not quite snapped. This weekend I plan to sever the cord and just have a great time with my sisters.

Lately I'm thinking... My dad passed in 2001, and my mom is senile and virtually bedridden. So this time, though Tulsa holds no charm for me, the only thing that could be unpleasant is seeing mom in that condition.

This is really interesting... I guess it's just that I always trudge back there thinking I have some great and burdensome responsibility I must fulfill. It's a little surprising to grasp that there are no longer any expectations. Except ones I have for myself. Hereby declared to be: having fun and doing whatever I want.

Currently reading... All the New Yorkers I'm behind on. I'll have four plane rides and some airport wait time, so I should be able to read some good stories and laugh at some great cartoons.

The Soapbox: I choose hope, not fear.

Fogged in and Seeing the Light

Current Status... Clouds and rain for days on end...last few and next few to come. It gets a little dreary. I think of curling up in bed with a stack of books. But I don't go there. I'm finally beginning to get my new technologies synced: iPod, MacBookPro, MobileMe, iTunes, Google blog & Google Docs (really great for Apple users!), iChat & PhotoBooth & video-chatting, & podcasts, and now I need to know more about RSS feeds. There may be a way that my readers can get an electronic notice whenever I post. That would be cool.

Lately I'm thinking... I'm feeling safe, but even I am wondering if it's really safe to feel safe. My prevailing theory is: Yes, it's safe. 

Currently reading... The Hidden Messages in Water (Beyond Words Publishing), Masaru Emoto, a Japanese doctor who studied water crystals around the world and in doing so couldn't help discovering that The Spirit of Words is the strongest Force in the Universe (no accident it goes "In the Beginning was the Word...," and the most powerful words, in any language, are "love and gratitude." How is this all connected? You'll have to read it for yourself; it's too subtle and complex to go into here.

This is really interesting... Now that we have plucked up our courage and voted for real change, some cold footed souls are shivering in their boots: Stock market down, down, down; headlines aplenty about how Obama will really have to "come through" and how hard that might be; shouts and murmurs from Russia and Iran reverberating in the newscasts. Take a deep breath, everyone. The Bush Disaster is over.

The Soapbox: Feel proud of choosing hope, not fear! 

And this just in... Here's a great tip. What's cheaper than therapy, faster than therapy and just the thing if you don't really need therapy? Women in Transition Coaching. I've had it myself, and so has my sister and Stewart, who is not even a woman in transition (but he IS in transition). My life has opened up in amazing ways! I highly recommend that if you are a Woman in Transition, and want to get your life moving in a new direction, and you know what's good for you, see this Web site:

womenintransitioncoach.com

Current Status... More than half the country's polls have closed. Obama has PA and Ohio; McCain took GA and No. Dak. Ooh, New Mexico just went for Obama. 2/3 of Latinos going for Obama. Rural folks in PA and OH going for Obama. And Hilary swore it couldn't be done.

Lately I'm thinking... how good I'm going to feel tomorrow. This racist nation put it aside and just voted in the Democrat and the best man for this time. McCain has his good points, but he feels he deserves the presidency, and that's just wrong, and he's wrong for this time.

Currently reading... The Hidden Messages in Water (Beyond Words Publishing), Masaru Emoto, a Japanese doctor who studied water crystals around the world and in doing so couldn't help discovering that The Word is the greatest Power, and the most powerful words, in any language, are "love and gratitude." How is this all connected? You'll have to read it for yourself; it's too subtle and complex to go into here.

This is really interesting... We would not be experiencing this much calm energy if Hilary was the candidate.

The Soapbox: Thanks, everyone, we're choosing hope, not fear!

Current Status... Sunday night. Preparations complete or under way for a new week. Trash is going out. iPod is being synced. Cats are in for the night. Daylight Savings Time went off in the wee hours this morning, and I enjoyed getting to sleep late without it being very late (9:00 a.m. I think). The day seemed very, very long...in a good way. Until 5:00 p.m., when life "went dark," as if the outdoor lighting had been turned off at a big switch. So now, at 11:00 p.m., it feels like it's been dark for weeks. It always takes me several weeks to get used to this. I'm happy for the extra hour, but the darkness driving home is disorienting, to say the least. Tonight we watched the last two chapters of Band of Brothers. Wow. Incredibly moving. Really loved that Demian Lewis. 

Lately I'm thinking... I wonder how Cathy and Demian are coming with the cabin. Did they finish painting and nailing up the clapboard? Do they have any plumbing -- kitchen sink, bathtub, toilet? Do they have a generator, some wiring and some lights? Can they pump water inside the house?

Currently reading...The Message of Water. I'll have to look up the author's name later: it's a Japanese doctor who studied water crystals around the world and in doing so couldn't help discovering that The Word is the greatest Power, and the most powerful words in any language are "love and gratitude." How is this all connected? You'll have to read it for yourself; it's too subtle and complicated to go into here. 

This is really interesting... A distant relative called tonight out of the blue, asking about my mother. ...And the election is in TWO DAYS! And all the urban liberals are scared to death that, though victory seems eminent, it could be snatched away through chicanery or malfunction or pure evil or all three.

The Soapbox: Choose hope, not fear!

Boomer Sandwich

Current Status... Unusual. Woke at 4:00 a.m. Got up at 5:30. Have watched the sky go from charcoal to stainless, where it remains. My nose is cold, I have a blanket over my feet. Across the hall, Stewart groans in his sleep, as he often does.

Lately I'm thinking... that I envy people whose relatives die quickly. Because my mom, who's 89, has been dying for years and years. Progressive dementia, congestive heart, bleeding ulcers, hardened arteries. This year she's gone from senior apartment to assisted living to hospital to extended care. She broke a bone, often the definitive push down the last slippery slope. But an operation pinned her porous ankle bones back together. She ended up mostly bedridden because she couldn't remember not to put her weight on that foot. That brought on pneumonia, and she wasn't expected to make it through the first night. But she did, and many more nights to come. After the ankle mended, though, she got very sick and was taken back to the hospital: kidney failure, internal bleeding, a raging infection. And she made it through that, too, though seriously weakened. An operation was suggested to fix the intestinal fistula causing serial kidney infections. She was sent to extended care to gather strength for that. There she ripped out her own catheter, took a couple of falls and developed a case of scabies. Scratching herself against the bed sheets, she rubbed a bald spot on the back of her head. Then she got pneumonia again, turned the corner, and is now getting up for meals (not on her own by any means). She sleeps a lot. She eats half her food and all her dessert. She recognizes her daughters but can't remember anything from one moment to the next. And I can't help feeling resentful that she's dragging this out. Is that cruel? Well, even she says, "Guess I just don't have the sense to die."

Currently reading... Finished The Worst Thing I've Done, Ursula Hegi, not great. The characters do one worse thing after another; they take turns narrating what story line there is, and then everyone's happy. But I never got to like them. Just didn't care one way or the other.

The Soapbox: Choose hope, not fear.

Momentum '08

Current Status... I didn't do a thing this weekend but spend money and read The New York Times. What a loafer! Bought some vitamins/herbs/supplements. Yeah, a lot. But I'm ahead of the curve on this, you'll see. Someday everyone will be kept healthy according to their needs/weaknesses by preventive supplements and fresh, organic, local foods. Trust me, it's been true since Hypocrates. It's been true through thousands of years of Chinese medicine. And it's true today.

Lately I'm thinking... Part of the money I spent this weekend was a contribution to the Obama campaign. I hear Colin Powell endorsed him today, and that this has been the biggest month for contributions. Taking no chances, keeping the TV ads flowing. I guess that's wise.

Currently reading... The Worst Thing I've Done, Ursula Hegi, The New Yorker, TNYTimes and the comics Doonesbury, Rhymes With Orange, Zits, Cathy and Non Sequitor

This is really interesting... Well, I learned that I have a couple of IQ points on Obama, and I respect his intellect and memory. So that's cool. Supposedly, GW Bush has an IQ in the 130s, but he sure knows how to hide it, not use it, deny it, ignore it and let it atrophy.

The Soapbox: I heard that Wall Street actually prefers Obama to McCain. I don't know if that's true, but I really think the Market will take a jump upward the day Obama wins (by at least 54%). Choose hope, not fear.

What Do I Know This Week?

Current Status...Friday night I needed two doses of entertainment to shake off the dreariness of the week's financial news: a movie and an episode of Band of Brothers. Today I spent the morning with a dear friend, the kind who listens closely and brings you up with her deep questions and empathy, sees fear for what it is: an imposter, an imaginary creature that can disappear in the light of apprehension.

Lately I'm thinking...that all this plays out in our inner and outer worlds. The Wall St. "panic" is just that. Contagious adrenalin rush. An addiction to excitement, good or bad. Yin and yang belong in closer balance, as equal partners. That's our "fix."

This is really interesting...I learned this week that while I thought I could still camoflage myself, still disappear at will, the cosmic joke's on me: What's inside is outside, whether I know it or not. People pick up much more from my being -- eyes, smile, body language, actions, mood, gifts, expressions -- than my words. Even extensive camo can be a big clue to authentic identity. I'm outed. No going back. And, no need to fear it, since it's a done deal. (Here I am, blogging on the Web.)

Soapbox: Eight years ago, John McCain was still a man of substance. But during the disgraceful G.W. Bush years, McCain sold his soul to Win at All Costs and The Ends Justify the Means: bogus causes. Now we see the straw man flailing in desperation, flinging mud pies, or allowing Sarah to sling them. All this talk of terrorists and Muslims: Such silliness. Obviously, the potential for calm, focused leadership is with Obama. Choose hope, not fear.

Underwater in a Leaderless Void

Current Status... I spent two miserable days coming down with a cold, then went to my accupuncturist, Sharon. As usual, I felt great after the treatment, slept very well, but I also woke up totally without the cold -- sinuses clear, eyes dry and comfortable. Wow.

Lately I'm thinking a lot about my retirement plan. It's a good one, TIAA-CREF, but even with all its caution, I lost a few hundred dollars by the end of September. No telling what my balance is now that the DOW's plunged into the 8000s. I guess the idea is to work till I die. Perhaps I can get used to that idea. I still don't want to live beyond 2025 though. 

What's interesting is the effect the terrible financial disaster is having on the Republican party (negative) and on our first black candidate (positive). Please let the DOW go up when he wins...

Currently reading... A book by Ursula Hegi called The Worst Thing I've Done. Well-written, but so far I'm not that into it.

The Soapbox: I predict Obama by 54%

Victory Over the Varmints!

Success on the opossum front. After a week, we finally isolated and captured Possum Chile #2. This one was camping under the refrigerator. We had to find a way to keep our cats, Sara and Emma, away from the trap in the kitchen.

We captured our indoor/outdoor kitkats and put them in our bedroom with bowls of food and water. We rigged up the trap with kibble and water. And at first, the little guy just waltzed into the trap, knocked over the water and ate some food. Then waltzed back out. Stewart went down to the kitchen three times during the night. Finally, at 5:00 a.m. the last adjustment to the trap did the trick and the cocky little bastard was trapped.

The possum is a nasty creature. Dirty white. Pink nosed. Beady eyed. Rat-tailed and hissing. This is the creep who pooped in Sara and Emma's food dishes and on their favorite toy. And we're letting this varmint live!

So, yay us. We got rid of the infestation ourselves. And didn't buy a shotgun or blow up these rat-vermin. We are sooo cool! (Well, actually, I didn't do that much ;-)

Started a new book by Ursula Hegi, the first of her many that I've tried. Perhaps tomorrow I'll remember the name of it!

Infestation of Opossums

We seemed to be Opossum-free all day yesterday, but this morning we see that our kitchen has been revisited by the little bugger we didn't catch. See This Is Really Interesting below.

First, my husband saw a creature huddling in the corner of the bathroom. He put on some work gloves and went after it, but it ran under the washing machine, a new Bosch that's too heavy to shift. This was Sunday, and he came upstairs to tell me about the "baby raccoon," and see if I had any ideas. I suggested the Clarkstown Kops and/or whatever they call the "dogcatcher" these days, something like Wild Animal Manager. The kops said the animal management folks don't come for raccoons. Rattlesnake maybe. So then we talked about Hav-a-heart trap. But we'd rented the last one from Beckerle's Lumber, and they're closed on Sunday. At this point my sister-in-law called and she suggested that we could buy a trap at Home Depot. Since we had to buy it, and one large enough for a raccoon or woodchuck is over $50, I suggested the Large Squirrel size. Next came debating the bait. My husband favored canned cat food, but I said racoons love the dry kibble. So he put kibble on a small piece of cardboard and mounted it on the trap-snapper. Every few hours we would open the bathroom door and check. The creature finally went inside the trap, ate the kibble, and walked back out.

Now we got serious. My husband fiddled with the settings until the trap-closer was hair-triggered. The bait was peanut butter studded with kibble. It would not fall off and any attempt to eat it would slam the trap shut. We went upstairs to watch a movie. When we came back, there was this ratty, shaggy, dirty-white rat-looking thing. O may gawd, it's a baby possum, I cried. He was ugly and frightened. He had peed and pooped and his pointy mouth was open in a silent, absurdly nonthreatening hiss. My husband lifted the cage gingerly and said, What should I do with him, fling him in the lake? (Normally sanguine, Stewart was outraged at the creature's home invasion.) No, I said, take him over to the park, far enough away he won't find his way back here. He left, and I attended to the poop and pee on the bathroom floor. We felt pretty good. Until we realized we hadn't dealt with the entire invasion force. To be continued...

Plotting the Future...or Not

Stuart had his second kidney cancer operation last week and the incision staples pulled out today. He is cancer-free, and we have been breath-takingly lucky to have learned of the cancer and gotten rid of it all in the space of six scary months. I'm breathing more deeply and feeling about 50% less stressed.

And why not? Our daughter is married. Our oldest boy is managing his second store and racking up points with his company. Our younger is happily married, on his third job, and the job changes have all been onward and upward. We have an adorable grandson Eli and a new grandbaby on the way in August. I've gone back to work and, for the most part, am enjoying it. Financially, we haven't defaulted on anything, though we have substantial credit card debt, we need a new computer, fax-printer and car. We get a big discount on our property/school taxes now that Stuart is over 65, Medicare is helping with his medical expenses, and his first Social Security check arrives next week -- we can surely use it.

But the country's economy has gotten itself into a bad fix that at least my son-in-law Demian saw coming. He's doing well, with his stores of gold Krugerands and land investments in Vermont, but Stuart, now healthy, is out of work. He is a title closer (freelance rep for title insurance companies at real estate closings). And nobody's getting mortgages or refinances, now or in the foreseeable future.

It's hard to plan. Obviously, this would not be a good time for us to sell the house and move out of the NY metro corridor. At 60 and 65, how much longer can we work? And when we stop working, how much will we have? (As near as I can tell, around $40K annually -- if this "recession" doesn't wipe out our current retirement accounts -- anyway, much more modest than the income we've been used to here in the Lower Hudson Valley, a modest level almost certainly requiring resettlement in an area much less-expensive to live in.)

In the past, I would just make up my mind to do something and, sooner or later, it got done. At this age and stage, our health can change any best-laid plan overnight. I think I can work till age 66. But will my job last? Will my body stay together? Stuart thinks he can work till 75, which I think is "pie in the sky," supporting us after I retire (again). He says this even though he has no work, no intention of finding other work and no clue when the housing market will come back, or even it it will resemble the market he once knew.

And so, I need an alternative to planning. Something to prevent me from feeling like a victim of this society's greed and my own anxieties. Some way to turn it around and get rid of the other 50% of my anxiety. Sounds idealistic, I know, but I think there's a way. Some people are raised doing this: We call them "Polyannas," but they tend to be happy, healthy and live a long time. It's not a bad idea to aspire to that kind of simplicity.

So what if, like every other "scrape" in my long life, I manage to get through this one, too? My record is good...and, by now, long. What if I just concentrate on right now and doing the right things now? Due to the poor economy (bad), we are getting a $1200 rebate from the government (good). And that $1,200 will pay down some of our debt. With that jump-start, maybe I can continue to pay off the credit cards while also saving $50 here, $200 there. And from there, I switch to "I will" instead of "maybe" -- I commit to paying off debt and saving for retirement. And this is the sort of loose "plan" that can realistically be made.

As for where we'll go in five or 10 years...or whenever...I'll have to trust that when its time to sell the house and move, we'll know it...and that we'll figure out where to go...and still have the energy to get there.