Category Archives: Aging

One of those weeks

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My cardinal comes to visit daily. I love his bright color and song.

I had a super busy week last week and a repeat of too much to do this week. I like quieter weeks when I have a few days with nothing to do but read and write.

What’s keeping me busy this week?

Yesterday, I had a meeting for my women’s charity group that supports victims of sex trafficking. We have our annual fundraiser in March. That means it’s up to me to write press releases, public service announcements and then prepare the program for printing. In the Fall, I worked on advertising and sponsorships.

I was fortunate to have a neighbor volunteer to help me get out the press releases and PSAs. But she hasn’t done this before, so we have to meet to get her up to speed.

The other thing is, I’m new to the area. I don’t know the media like I did in Palm Springs. I was fortunate to have years in public relations and advertising in-house for a country club developer and a PR agency prior to opening my own business. I worked for several years for one of the largest advertisers in the Coachella Valley. The ad people from radio, TV and print took us (me and my PR boss) out to lunch. I had friendships with local media managers, reporters and sales people. When I was doing volunteer publicity for our swim team, also a non-profit, I was able to call on my media friends for help.

In Arizona, I have no connections. I don’t even know what the local media is or who they are. I mainly stream online or watch national news. It makes the job much more difficult.

Without posting my entire schedule this week and boring everyone to death, the main thing keeping me busy is the charity group and our upcoming event. The problem I found with being on the board of directors is our group is too small. Our group was in it’s peak maybe 10 years ago — before my time. It was more than 200 women strong. We’re now under 30. COVID shut down the group for several years and people drifted away. They also aged up. I think a lot of our members left their 50, 60 and 70s behind. The group was founded more than 30 years ago by four friends. Thirty years later, I understand why they’re no longer members.

Through the years, the group raised more than $3 million for women and children in need.

I’m so happy to be a part of this group, but don’t know how to make it grow — but I’m doing my part to help out.

When do you have super busy weeks, when there’s little time to sit and think?

What are you involved with that takes most of your time?

The Toboggan Ride Was Fun

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I wrote this post January 3, 2018. I was in Salt Lake City with my husband and friends. It was my daughter’s senior year of college. I realized I hadn’t skied once in one of the most spectacular areas to ski i the United States. So off I went, skiing five days in a row…

Flashback to January 2018:

IMG_9961A perfect day at Alta, Utah.

All my excitement of the New Year came to a crash on the slopes when I made one turn and lost my balance. I went skidding down the mountain spinning on my back and side—but only after feeling a rather awful snap in my left knee.

I stood after a friendly stranger helped me up and I thought I was okay. I skied a hundred yards more and “yikes!” The pain in my knee was sharp, intense and I collapsed. After a third try with the same result, I told my ski companion that I needed help down the mountain. I crossed my poles and we waited until a ski instructor stopped and called for the ski patrol to come get me.

Long story, short…actually, it’s a short story because it was only the first turn of my third run on a perfectly beautiful, sunny day in Alta. I was lifted into a toboggan with my left leg in a splint and wrapped like a burrito as ski patrol Chris, skied me to a snowmobile patrol, who took me the rest of the way to the clinic. I held onto a little flap of tarp over my head because ski patrol Chris said it would keep the snow kicked up by the snowmobile from hitting my face on the way off the mountain.

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My view from the Ski Patrol toboggan.

The nurse, doctor and receptionist were really kind. They empathize with their patients whose vacation has been ruined. In my case, I’m not worried about the torn ACL ruining my skiing days. I’m worried about the rest of this week taking care of my daughter’s house and puppy. (I’m in Salt Lake City, Utah to housesit and puppysit for my daughter, who is with her Utah swim team in Florida for their Christmas training trip. I thought I’d take advantage of her proximity to gorgeous ski resorts and ski for the first time in a decade.)

I have a lot going on and I don’t have time for this. In addition to taking care of the pup, there’s a swim meet I was going to compete in early February. Also, I’m traveling back to Salt Lake for my daughter’s senior day and final dual meet. Plus her final PAC 12 swim meet in Seattle. My cousin is coming to visit. My high school friend plans to stay with me. Yikes again. How do I have surgery and participate in all the momentous occasions ahead? What will I do to keep my sanity without my daily walks and swims?

I think a lot will depend on my attitude and outlook. After a good cry that hasn’t happened yet, I’ll pull myself together and face life every hour the way it’s put before me. I remember after my big accident in college, when I was crossing a street and hit by a pick-up truck going 35 miles per hour, it hit me to appreciate the little blessings in life. Don’t take anything for granted. And live life the best you can.IMG_9968

Another view of the ski slopes at Alta — before my fall.

Back to the present day:

Looking back on that vacation, we did have our son and his future wife with us for a few days. We skied before my accident and that was a highlight. I also tried cross country skiing for the first time with a friend.

It was a long slow process to find normal again after that accident. My orthopedic surgeon recommended putting off surgery for several months, until I got to experience some of my daughter’s milestone’s like her last meet on senior day, taking her and teammates out afterwards and going to PAC 12 Championships. We planned the surgery around my events, so I would have time to recover. Prior to surgery, I wore a brace (and after surgery, too) for months.

I did physical therapy before surgery to strengthen my muscles before the big day. I wasn’t ready for how much my life would slow down after surgery. But I learned to appreciate the small steps I made.

Have you ridden down the slopes in a toboggan?

How have you handled it when life set you back with the unexpected?

What was your attitude like?

Thanksgiving awaits

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The Harris Hawks are feeling right at home in our yard. This was the second day of them hanging out. I wrote about hawks on Wednesday, HERE. This guy is looking mighty plump.

Next week is Thanksgiving. I have mixed emotions about the holiday. I do like getting together with family or friends. I enjoy cooking the meal and having a bounty of leftovers. I enjoy the compliments my Thanksgiving meal gets. It’s satisfying.

But the dark side of Thanksgiving awaits.

Thanksgiving 2021 our dear friend passed away.

Decades earlier: When I was unmarried, living in Seattle, a recent college graduate, this friend (who also lived in Seattle) introduced me to my husband. My husband was visiting for Seafair, which is a summer festival highlighted by hydro races and a Blue Angels show.

As they say, the rest is history.

Eventually our friend left Seattle, sold all his property (real estate was his business) and moved to Arizona. He turned his Seattle real estate into an even greater empire in the Scottsdale/Phoenix area. Prices were way more affordable. Taxes were much better and the business environment was exciting to him.

We would visit our friend in Scottsdale a mile or two from where we now live. We would drive for the weekend from Palm Springs and stay in his casita. My husband was convinced that when he retired, Arizona was the place to be. We’d say good-bye to the high cost of living and taxes of California and embrace Arizona life.

COVID hit and my husband worked remotely. Home prices were skyrocketing in Palm Springs because people wanted out of apartments in San Francisco and LA. They wanted space, a yard, pool and our prices were much lower. We had a new next door neighbor who moved in from SF with his mom sight unseen and called the home his “COVID” home. He was worried about his elderly mom’s health.

My husband decided that it was time to make our move. Especially since he was working from home. I wasn’t sold on it, but told our kids that I was going to ask for a ridiculous price for our home that nobody would consider. That was my secret plan to stay in my dream home. Our house of almost 30 years sold in four hours with offers above asking. So much for that.

So we moved to Arizona close to our friend. He was our first and only friend in the state. We had been friends for close to 40 years. He loved to grill steaks for us. We had him over to our house for dinner. We watched football together and went out to great sushi restaurants. My husband would help him with his properties on weekends, schlepping refrigerators into apartments, or other DIY stuff. Like I said, that was his business. He appreciated my husband’s help.

He introduced us to his entourage, his brother and wife who also moved from Seattle to Arizona. Then another couple who will be retiring from Seattle to Scottsdale in a few years.

A few weeks before Thanksgiving 2021, he was hospitalized. He had a cough and was having trouble breathing. He was put on a ventilator after a week. He’d call my husband to bring him things from his home, like his razor and a pillow. The hospital tested him eight times for COVID — all negative.

Thanksgiving night, 2021 we had our friends who moved from Palm Springs over for dinner. My husband told them that he was worried about our friend, who was finally diagnosed with Valley Fever. Thinking it was COVID, the hospital had treated him the entire time with antibiotics, which is the wrong thing to do to a fungus like Valley Fever. Antibiotics allowed the fungus to grow unchecked.

The harsh words from our dinner guest, who retired from running the ER in Palm Springs said, “He’s not going to make it.”

He died a few hours later.

What holiday that is supposed to be joyous has dark undertones for you?

Origins of Old Sayings

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Olive has taken over my desk and office like she owns the place. Yes, she’s feeling better.

You know those emails you receive that have interesting facts or funnies? I received one last week that had origins of old sayings. I knew a few of the idioms and origins, but most were new to me.

I’m sharing a few I found most fascinating:


During WWII, U.S. Airplanes were armed with belts of ammo, which they would shoot during dogfights and on strafing runs. These belts were folded into the wing compartments that fed their machine guns. These belts measure 27 feet and contained hundreds of cartridges. Often times, the pilots would return from their missions having expended all of their bullets on various targets. They would say, “I gave them the whole nine yards,” meaning they used up all of their ammunition.


Personal hygiene left much room for improvement. As a result, many women and men had developed acne scars by adulthood. The women would spread bee’s wax over their facial skin to smooth out their complexions. When they were speaking to each other, if a woman began to stare at another woman’s face she was told, ‘mind your own bee’s wax.’ Should the woman smile, the wax would crack, hence the term ‘crack a smile.’ In addition, when they sat too close to the fire, the wax would melt. Therefore, the expression ‘losing face.’

Ladies wore corsets, which would lace up in the front. A proper and dignified woman, as in ‘straight laced’ wore a tightly tied corset.

Common entertainment included playing cards. However, there was a tax levied when purchasing playing cards but only applicable to the ‘Ace of Spades.’ To avoid paying the tax, people would purchase 51 cards instead. Yet, since most games require 52 cards, these people were thought to be stupid or dumb because they weren’t ‘playing with a full deck.’

In George Washington’s days, there were no cameras. One’s image was either sculpted or painted. Some paintings of George Washington have him standing behind a desk with one arm behind his back while others showed both legs and both arms. Prices charged by painters were not based on how many people were to be painted, but by how many limbs were to be painted.

Arms and legs are ‘limbs,’ therefore painting them would cost the buyer more. Hence the expression, ‘Okay, but it’ll cost you an arm and a leg.’ (Artists know hands and arms are more difficult to paint.)


As incredible as it sounds, men and women took baths only twice a year (May and October). Women kept their hair covered, while men shaved their heads (because of lice and bugs) and wore wigs. Wealthy men could afford good wigs made from wool. They couldn’t wash the wigs, so to clean them they would carve out a loaf of bread, put the wig in the shell, and bake it for 30 minutes. The heat would make the wig big and fluffy, hence the term ‘big wig’. Today we often use the term here comes the ‘Big Wig’ because someone appears to be or is powerful and wealthy.

Did you know any of these origins of old sayings? Which ones?

Why is my daughter so annoyed with me?

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My kids not wanting me to take their pic.
My kids not wanting me to take their pic.

I wrote this nine years ago. It’s my most read post to this day. I remember writing it while visiting a high school friend in my home town Snohomish.

I understand how she feels. After all, I was once 19 years old. I remember it very clearly.

Everything my mom did, I found unbelievably annoying.

I’ll never forget sitting with her in the car, getting ready to shop at Bellevue Square. She had parked the car. She was fumbling through her purse, making sure she had what she needed. She reapplied her lipstick. Dug through her purse for her wallet to look through credit cards. Searched several times to check where she placed the keys.

Mom and me in the early 90s.
Mom and me in the early 90s. I lost her to COVID in January 2023.

Would we never leave the car? Would I be stuck all day? I must have said something to her quite snippy, or flat out mean. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Which made me more upset with her.

Isn’t it a sad feeling, transitioning from a mom who could do no wrong—from changing diapers, to cooking their favorite spaghetti, to taping treasured colorings on the fridge that were made just for you—to being the person of their abject disdain?

It’s a tough new role. Let me tell you.

But, having gone through these feelings myself, I understand. I’m visiting my mom this week in her assisted living center. I talked about it with her, what I’m going through now, and what I felt like when I was 19. Fortunately, she doesn’t remember me ever being a snarky 19-year-old.

For some reason, I’ve gained more patience throughout my life and that has been a blessing. I’ve also learned forgiveness.

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My baby girl years ago.

Something else, I’ve learned through the years of parenting: this too shall pass.

It’s called independence and freedom. We want our children to grow and become separate human beings that can stand on their own. Sometimes they need to separate from us. A good time to do that is during their senior year of high school, or their freshman year of college. It’s a good thing. I keep telling myself that.

However, we also want to be treated with respect, and once again—someday—to be cherished.

A beach day with my daughter.
A beach day with my daughter.

I wrote more about separating from our kids and the experiences we go through when they leave for college HERE.

I miss my mom. So much.

Why do you think some posts are discovered and read throughout the years, while others are not?

Do you think when people close to us are going through rough times, it’s easy for them to take it out on those closest to them?

Panic attack

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This owl hung out in our tree for a week.

I had a panic attack last week. It was while driving home from the eye doctor with my husband. He had his eyes dilated so I was the driver. It’s a road I take several times a week. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But then I turned left too soon and found myself in a construction zone with cars rushing around me. I struggled to get back on the road and my husband told me when to go. I couldn’t see. It was a blind rush back into traffic.

After that, I tried to calm my breathing. My hands were shaking and sweaty. I don’t like the drivers in Arizona. They are way worse than California drivers. I ended up pulling off into a parking lot and taking a moment to collect myself.

When I tried driving, I panicked again. I haven’t had a panic attack in at least five or six years. I only have them while driving. I felt so bad about myself. My husband, thankfully, was very supportive and told me I was doing a great job. But I still had a low opinion of myself.

Then I saw an article on well-being called, “How to Calm an Anxious Mind” by Gregory Jantz, Ph.D., founder and director of the mental health clinic The Center: A Place of Hope in Edmonds, Wash.

He gave a list of strategies to regain peace:

Intentionally limit information intake

Choose to be thankful

Go against the frantic flow

Stop procrastinating

Set aside time for stillness and silence

Make a small change to alleviate big stress

Steer clear of negative people

Take a nap

Unplug for awhile

Write in a journal or notebook

Retrain your brain with Cognitive Behavioral Therapy

Stay connected to friends and family

Maintain activities that replenish you

Express yourself creatively

I like this list and there are a few areas I excel at and other I need to work on.

Do you suffer from anxiety or panic attacks?

From the list, what can you improve on?

Happy Friday!

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I have never seen this cactus bloom before, let alone in August! Must have been our recent monsoon.

I’m wondering what happened with the week? It rushed by. Usually the dog days of summer in the desert are slow to pass. But not this week.

What was I up to this week?

On the weekend, we made dinner for newish friends of ours. We cooked an all American meal of ribs (my husband), potato salad, corn on the cob and cherry pie (me.) We met these friends at the funeral of our friend who introduced me to my husband 40 years ago. He died suddenly from Valley Fever after we moved to Arizona. Our friends we had over for dinner were his brother and wife who moved to Arizona from Seattle. A circle of new friends all bought homes in Arizona, including us and another couple from Kirkland, because of this one friend. We’ve all pledged to keep his memory alive and get together several times a year.

The next busy moments came Monday morning meeting to brainstorm with my newsletter co-hort to write and layout the quarterly HOA newsletter. I’m proud to say that after 30-plus years of “newslettering,” I returned to my roots. We initiated a new process this issue that worked and the President of the HOA approved.

I compiled all the copy in a word document and sent it to the board to approve — prior to spending hours laying it out. This was similar to my early PR days, before desktop publishing and Mac computers. I would drive copy to the typesetter and then get it approved before giving copy to graphic designers to layout. Or, do the layout myself.

This is saved me countless revisions. It was annoying to have the newsletter all ready to go, and then have five board members give their two cents worth on what to change — one by one.

Other than the newsletter, which took up most of Monday and Tuesday, I had my first hair appointment since April. My hairdresser, who I love, went on maternity leave and it wasn’t worth it to me to try someone new for a one off appointment. It was fun to learn how my hairdresser is totally amazed and feels blessed with motherhood. She wasn’t expecting the dramatic love and emotions she’s experiencing now.

Thursday was a doctor’s appointment for my husband that I drove to. It was his final cataract appointment. He has new-fangled lenses that can be adjusted post-surgery with a laser light. It meant four or five extra appointments, but it’s supposed to make vision sharper.

Now that it’s Friday, we’re meeting friends who moved here from Palm Springs for dinner. But I have the day free to relax, read and comment on posts. I might visit the library, too.

I feel like one of my husband’s older clients from decades ago. My husband would call them to come into his office for an appointment. Often they’d respond, “Oh I can’t make it Wednesday. I have a doctor’s appointment.” Those were the days I was volunteering at school, taking kids to piano lessons, packing lunches, making dinners and volunteering at swim meets. I always wondered why people thought they were busy doing one “main thing” a day. Now I know!

How did your week go? Did it flash by quickly or seem slow?

What were some highlights of the week?