Six good things during the past week

Candle lighting at the JCA

Holiday parties and a writing award provided an uptick after a sad week.

1. Went to the Jewish Community of Amherst for a Hanukkah party Wednesday with candle-lighting, latkes and pizza, having seen the announcement in the entryway where I'm doing my Literacy Project volunteering now. It's also where I sent my children way back when. It's much nicer now with the addition to their facilities. I didn't think I would know anyone and so was happy to bump into a former colleague who sends her daughters there. We sat together and made plans to return for one of the rabbi's Wednesday lunch and learn sessions. I'm not exactly sure why, but I was a little depressed and felt better after seeing all the lit menorahs, singing songs, eating latkes and talking to my friend and her daughters.

2. The Dog Writers Association of America gave me its Inspirational Feature award for my story in the American Kennel Club's Family Dog Magazine. It was about how Maddie and I each helped the other heal after our separate near-death experiences. It came with a $300 award. $150 for Maddie and the other half for me?

3. After tennis Friday, I went to a fun ladies’ lunch. I have been trying to remember to put everything in my phone and on paper. I put in my phone from 12 to 2, figuring that Nancy wanted time after tennis to get ready. I bought orange juice and went to Starbucks for badly needed coffee, for I had spilled most of it after putting it on top of my icy car roof in the morning. When I checked my email for directions, I saw that it was really at 11, not noon, so I raced over there. Luckily they were still eating, and there was plenty left. I guess being off by an hour is not as bad as missing my college reunion, for which I was off by a week. (Question: Did I subliminally not want to go? Who knows…)

4. Book club holiday party Friday night. None of us finished A Gentleman in Moscow. We liked the writing and many of the author’s observations about life, but we said we kept waiting for something happen. Avid reader friends who finished it said it was worth it. So we’re going to finish up for next time while also reading A Visit from the Goon Squad. The food was delish, the company delightful. We had a Yankee Swap. Love my book group friends but not so much Yankee Swaps.  (#FirstWorldProblem) Stayed up too late.

5. Saturday, dragged myself to yoga. I don’t drink very much, and after two glasses of wine I felt a little hung over. Saturday night, fun Christmas party at Marianne and Karen’s. So much good food an such a friendly crowd.

Menorah in Riverdale

6. Sunday, packed up for trip to family Hanukkah party in the Bronx. Headed out a little bleary-eyed but stopped on the way at Ben’s for visit with Ben, Joe and Callen. (Nell was away on a girls’ weekend.) In a short time, Callen had turned into a little person! Amazing how that happens.

On my way out, I found a florist where I got pretty flowers to take to my cousin’s. It was good to be with family and extended family. We had more latkes and delectable New York deli sandwiches. I always go for the corned beef. REAL corned beef. This is the second year after Jennifer's suicide. Last year, the first year without her, was the most difficult. I spent some time talking to her twin brother on Sunday. He says that without Buddhism, he doesn’t know how he could have survived. I told him that at the JCA, I met some people who called themselves JewBus. I looked up the definition and found this interesting story.

Stayed over at Residence Inn in Yonkers. On the way back, I was so tired I had to stop twice. Often that's the way it is when you're on the go. The expectation on the way there keeps you alert. On the way back, Starbucks (good) at stop 1 in Woodbridge, Conn., and Subway (kinda yucky) at stop 2 kept me awake.

Didn't get any exercise except for getting in and out of the car. Got back pretty late and thought of a brief run but it was dark. And I thought of Zoe getting hit in the dark. So I went swimming. It's my least favorite activity. Though some who have cut back on running say they get the same high from swimming, I don't feel it, probably because I don't go far enough. For some reason, the last two times I have stopped at 24 laps, the last two doing water jogging. It is boring, not at all like running outdoors when you can soak up the scenery with your eyes rather than getting water-logged in a pool.

A few times in the past I did get some endorphins from doing laps, but last night I was distracted by leaky goggles that I had to keep fixing. I might invest in a pair of prescription goggles. Despite the drawbacks, it did get the schpilkes out. 

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Celebrating Chrismukkah the Jewish way

Miracle Max

I was going to do the Jewish Christmas today but was too tired after serving food at Kate's Kitchen (came home and fell asleep on the couch) so it's a good thing I did something like it last night on Hanukkah/Christmas Eve.

The "Spread the Light Community Hanukkah Event" at Congregation B'nai Israel in Northampton last night was a lot of fun. I didn't know anyone but sat at a table with people who were warm and welcoming. We lit menorahs, sang and said the prayers and then had Chinese food and watched "The Princess Bride."

I didn't realize that is considered to be a Jewish movie. But people said that's why it was chosen for the evening. I guess it's fitting, on a holiday having to do with miracles, to show the day being saved by a character named Miracle Max (Billy Crystal). And you have your Jewish actors: Crystal, Mandy Patinkin, Carol Kane and Peter Falk, who says, when he is finished reading the book, "Shalom."

You're not supposed to broadcast when you're going out of town (not safe) so I will say that at some point in the near future, Katie and I are going to New York to see Falsettos. A friend who is from Brooklyn calls New York "The Old Country," but when I say I'm going to The Old Country, not everyone gets it. Because to many around here, that's Ireland. In any case we're going to see some people and do a few other things in our short visit. In my Old Country.

Last week my essay, This is What It's Like Living With Two Types of DNA, ran on a new site for me, Vice.com. I told some people that it explains why I'm so weird. One of my doctors sent me a screenshot to show me that Apple News picked up. That was fun.

On the medical front, I found out last week that the spot that was concerning me was indeed another squamous cell cancer. It is larger than the others so it might need a graft. My first concern was that, since it's on my ankle, it's going to make me sit out of tennis and hurt my running comeback. These are not serious but just the sound of them freaks me out due to having lost a friend to a squamous cell cancer that appeared on her tongue and spread through her body after she survived leukemia.

And for days after, they hurt a lot. I'm wondering if it's going to be hard to get around for a few days.

It's a good thing I advocated for myself after a PA told me repeatedly that it was nothing. I don't think it has gotten any larger during that time but, unlike the others, it hurts, and I could have been done with it sooner. I'm going to Mohs on the ankle and my left hand the first week of January.

My blood pressure was super high at the dermatologist's on Thursday. I imagine it's because I spent a week being worked up about this. Someone said it also might be the election.

Peripatetic and tired

My problem is that I did two things this weekend instead of one. Nothing terrible happened, but I came back drained yesterday after driving to Poughkeepsie on Saturday for a memorial service for a wonderful English professor, spending the night at the Vassar Alumnae House, then driving to Riverdale for a family Hanukkah party the next day, staying overnight at an Airbnb, then driving back yesterday in the fog and, on the anniversary of the Sandy Hook shootings, listening to an NPR program about our epidemic of gun violence.

Also, for the first time ever, I forgot my pills. My pills always travel with me. I had not gotten around to putting them in their pill boxes, so I had the whole bag ready on the counter...and left it there.

The two events happened to be geographically connected, so it made sense to do it. I enjoyed walking around Vassar with an old friend and seeing how much nicer the little area of Arlington has become; the main attraction back then was Pizza Town, in which the owner, George, presided over the creation of White Lightenings, drinks comprised of every kind of white liquor he had. Luckily, it was across the street from campus, and we could walk (stumble) back to our dorms. The town has some nicer restaurants now.

The chapel was filled with people remembering the English professor who often wrote long, literary comments on our papers. He was kind and funny and supportive of my writing, and on days when I was unhappy at Vassar, I felt better after his class.

The ride on Sunday to Riverdale was short and easy, although I did not listen to the book on tape that I got because the first disc was missing. I listened to an a program about Jeffrey Schmalz, the New York Times reporter who transformed news coverage of AIDS (and who died of it at a young age) and is the subject of a book, Dying Words. If my kids are reading this, they might be thinking, "Mom, listen to some music! Stop with the death and dying!" But programs such as On the Media and The Takeaway hold my interest, so that is what I do.

I enjoyed seeing family at the Hanukkah party and eating some "to die for" New York deli food. I do not normally eat this kind of thing, but I practically inhaled the best over-stuffed corned beef with a side of coleslaw and potato salad, followed by melt-in-your mouth cheesecake that my cousin Anne made.

The apartment was too small to accommodate me, so I had walked about a mile from the apartment where I was staying in a room rented through Airbnb and then got a ride "home." It was the only time I have had a problem with an Airbnb. The host had told me to park my car in front of the building, but when I came back Monday morning after getting a bagel and a Starbucks, I saw that I was getting a ticket. I ran to the car but it was too late. I was on the wrong side of the street for alternate-side-of-the-street parking for street cleaning. All these years that I have sat in cars and moved them for street cleaning in Manhattan, I go to the Bronx and get a ticket that could have been avoided.

I went upstairs and said I thought he should either pay the ticket ($45) or refund me the price of the room ($45). His response was along the lines of, "Are you talkin to me?" He said he didn't know about the parking rules because he has his own special spot. I said that as a host of an Airbnb, you are supposed to know your neighborhood. I said I was going to write a positive review but now I would have to point this out. Finally he said he would split it with me...if I wrote a positive review.

Airbnb has a dispute resolution form that you can fill out. He wanted to avoid it so we made the arrangement via text. I said I would go ahead and write the review and he agreed to refund the money. When I told him that I had done it, he said he needed to wait the three days until he could see for himself. I texted back that I am going to have to start the form if he doesn't live up to his end. I told this to a few people who said he should have said he was sorry and refunded the money.

Such negotiations over such a small amount of money seems ridiculous. But the whole thing was so annoying that I need to pursue it.

This was the aftertaste that I had when I got home, all hunched up because I hadn't stopped. I picked up Maddie and went home and took a nap and did a phone interview. Next I wondered if I should go to the Y and exercise or call it a (bad) day. I know I always feel better when I exercise, so I went to the Y and went to the only class on the schedule: cardio kick boxing. It did the job.

Hanukkah party worth the long drive

Nothing like driving for a long time to give you the pent up energy to fuel a (relatively) long run.

But to back up: I drove to New York on Sunday for my cousin Peter and his wife Anne's Hanukkah party in Riverdale, then after that drove to Ben's in Fairfield, then spent the night and drove back home yesterday.

It is not the kind of driving I usually do alone anymore. Well, I guess I wasn't exactly alone because on the way down I got tired enough that I had to stop at a Mobil station and get the bag of Fritos and the Coke that accompanied me into New York. By the time I got to Ben's my eyelid was twitching!

It was worth it, though. I saw relatives that I hadn't seen for a while, relatives I see on Facebook and also friends of relatives and relatives of relatives. We had sandwiches on the kind of New York deli rye that you can't get anywhere else. I indulged on thick corned beef sandwiches and cole slaw, yum, and talked to a lot of people.

We of course lit the candles and then had presents. I was surprised and happy that I got two scarves...especially since I still haven't found my bag of winter stuff.

We have a small family and I'm glad to be able to keep up with relatives on happy occasions.

When I got home yesterday I ran into the house, put on my running stuff and flew out of here. I ran to Brunelle's Marina and back and didn't feel tired at all. A police officer looking for speeders was parked on the shoulder and pulled a little off the road for me. I asked him if was going to give me a speeding ticket and he said, "Not this time." (I hope he wasn't projecting onto some other time.)

For some reason I thought that run was three miles, but I checked it on google maps and it is actually 1.9 miles one way. So almost four miles.

I skipped St. Pat's last year due to the spate of terrible pain I had in my quads (probably from prednisone), but I think that I might actually be able to do the next one. Toes crossed.

Two holidays merge into one

Above, Joe, Ben, Katie and moi; below, Deborah and Charlotte
with the banner made by Meghan.

We had fun taking advantage of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to celebrate Thanksgivukkah, the convergence of Thanksgiving and Hanukkah.

Turkey with cranberry sauce, plus latkes with apple sauce, actually went together well along with the traditional fixin's. For dessert, we gobbled up (sorry!) pies made by Katie (pumpkin) and Evelyn (apple). Afterwards, we lit the menorah and I gave out presents; just some little things.

It definitely is nice to be done shopping before the Christmas rush begins.

I have been slivering the pies all night. I'm just sorry that I'm not running the Talking Turkey race tomorrow.

Last-minute menorah shopping garners results

It was a day before Hanukkah, and I was on my hands and knees, saying to myself, "If you were a menorah, where would you be?" This was a risky thing to do, given that I was unsure how I would get up, but I was determined to look in all of the usual places.

I found the candles and the blue and white napkins decorated with dreidels and stars, and even the Happy Hanukkah banner, which, courtesy of Meghan, will be replaced this year with a Happy Thanksgivukkuh banner. I also knew where to find our traditional Thanksgiving table decoration – the tiny turkey that Katie made many moons ago out of an upside-down clay pot, pipe cleaners and construction paper. But no menorah.

So with a day to go, I went hunting. My first stop, the Yiddish Book Center, turned up only children's menorahs. Since I was heading down to the Longmeadow area anyway, I went to the gift shop at Temple Beth El in Springfield. They didn't have the traditional one I wanted, but it was so last-minute that I almost bought a more modern menorah modeled after the one in front of the Knesset in Israel.

Across the street at Sinai Temple, I found a curiosity: a musical menorah that played "Rock of Ages." It reminded me of our family gatherings in New Jersey when we used to sing that song in unison. I was relieved when my eyes settled on one that was just right, nothing fancy and nothing funny.

I put it on the table and, miracle of miracles, the candles stayed in without wobbling. We lit the first one tonight.

My aches and pains are still unresolved, but at this moment I am putting them aside to say Happy Thanksgiving/Thanksgivukkah to all, and let us proceed to celebrate all of our blessings!

Holiday gatherings galore

Gary, Mark, me and Rook at Thursday's beer dinner.

The night before the night before Christmas dinner, held at the Sierra Grille in Northampton, was a lot of fun.

The five-course dinner featured five beers from Dogfish Head, the Delaware-based craft brewery whose slogan is "Off-Centered Ales for Off-Centered People." I went with friends from the year I spent at Wesleyan University as part of the 12-college exchange with Vassar; one of the guys, Gary Steinel, is a card-carrying Beer Drinker of the Year with more knowledge about beer than I ever thought possible.

Gary is friendly with Dogfish head founder and president Sam Calagione, host of the Discovery Channel's Brew Masters series, who entertained diners in between courses with tales about the beginnings of the brewery and the sometimes exoteric ingredients they use.

I like getting together with the Wesleyan friends, who include Rook, aka Jeff Van Nest, my old boyfriend and current good buddy; and another good guy, Mark Nickerson, an Amherst psychotherapist . When the three of them start chattering about things I don't understand, such as the super-duper components on Rook and Gary's bikes, it doesn't really matter what they're saying. Their voices sound just the same as they did a gazillion years ago at Wesleyan. It takes me back.

In deference to my delicate liver, I probably shouldn't have had quite so much beer, but hey, I hardly drink at all, and it is the holiday season.

Mark's daughter, Geneva, and his niece, Brittany,

brought some extra sparkle to our table.

Me with Dogfish Head founder Sam Calagione.

My kids spent Christmas Eve with Jim in Enfield. I went to my friend Korby's house for her family's annual Christmas Eve gathering in Agawam. It was a festive event with a warm and friendly group of people, and I was happy to feel a part of Korby and Pete's extended family.

Korby prepared a scrumptious buffet, with the main dish, Portuguese salt cod, prepared by her son-in-law, Philippe, with help from wife Keegan (Korby's daughter) in keeping with Portuguese Christmas Eve tradition.

Korby, Philippe and Keegan with his Pièce de résistance

Tomorrow, Ben, Joe and Katie will return mid-afternoon. We haven't firmed up our plans, but I'd like to go out for Chinese food, the traditional Jewish Christmas meal.

Then on Sunday, I'll host the Day After Christmas Faux-Hanukkah party. We figured God would understand this rescheduling of a minor holiday that fell in early December this year. None of the college kids could come on real Hanukkah, and this way we can celebrate the way it should be done, with gift-giving, candle-lighting, family and extended family and good eating.

Well I hope the eating is good. We'll set the table with my mother's nice things, so at least it will look pretty!

Busy busy

Let sleeping dogs lie

Well, she was sleeping until I woke her up by creeping along the floor to get a good angle for a picture.

Maddie has seemed happier since Katie and Joe came back. I had thought she looked depressed, or maybe I was projecting my feelings onto her.

In any case, when the kids left and I cried about my empty nest syndrome, people said they'd be back before I knew it. And sure enough, here they are. The first few days I tripped over suitcases and smiled in welcoming back some of the old chaos. A few days after that, when the obstacle course was still there, I wasn't so happy about it and lugged the suitcases into a certain person's room. Out of sight, out of mind.

Adding a certain je ne sais quoi to the living room, Joe's hockey bag is under the piano, his stick is resting on a wood beam, and a laundry basket leans against a wall. Rolls of Christmas and Hanukkah wrapping paper are laid out on the floor, and a wooden bench is filling up with Hanukkah presents (in blue) and Christmas presents (in gold and red).

It's definitely lively.

Last night I went with Joe and Katie to Jim's house, where we had dinner and they put up and decorated the tree while I watched, curled up under a blanket on the couch.

They will go to their father's for Christmas Eve and Day, and then on Sunday, Diane and her family will come here for the Hanukkah celebration that we couldn't have on the real Hanukkah because the college kids couldn't come home. You don't move the serious Jewish holidays, but we figured this one was OK. Ben and hopefully his girlfriend Meg will come, as will Deb and Charlotte, our extended family.

Tomorrow night I plan to go to the Sierra Grill in Northampton for the annual Night Before the Night Before Christmas beer dinner, a five-course meal with a beer for each course from Dogfish Head brewery (I'm having pheasant.) I've done this before with friends from my junior year at Wesleyan University, and it's a lot of fun.

This time last year I couldn't go because I was still not allowed out in public drinking beer and eating restaurant food. The year before I was in the hospital, having just relapsed.

Going out will be good. Since I don't drink very much, I'm sure my friends won't mind finishing my beer...unless the beer is so good that I need to drink most of it myself.

Saved!

After I waited for about an hour in the clinic Monday, Melissa finally came into the exam room where I sat after progressing through the layers of the system. (Sit in waiting room. Get blood drawn. Back to waiting room. Get called into exam room. Wait in exam room.)

She stood at the door, a copy of my blood counts in her hand. "Well," she said, while my heart fluttered for a second. "These are GREAT counts."

My white count was 8.8, hematocrit 31.9, and platelets 61. Saved! (Saved from my imagination, but still, saved is saved.)

I had let the beach ball of my anxiety rise to the surface (Wendy Halpern's suggestion) and then I had tossed it to several of the many people who will put up with me. The "problem" was that my visit Monday was on Dec. 21st, the year anniversary of my relapse, and since I hadn't felt well last year and I didn't feel great this year on this particular date, I tied everything together.

(In other words I was worried that I would learn on Monday that I had relapsed.)

Some responses: "Don't DO that. Think about something else."

or "Ronni, this is negative magical thinking. It's not real. Stop doing that."

"It's just a day like any other day. You'll be fine."

So I was OK and I could move along. Big sigh of relief.

My liver function test was down slightly, but Melissa said to stay on the 40 mg. of prednisone anyway while it hopefully continues to improve. We talked about prednisone: She said it's an amazing drug that fixes many problems, but it creates problems in many areas too. So just as you can credit many improvements to the prednisone, you can blame many problems on it too.

For example, as the dose has risen, my legs have gotten weaker. I have been more tired, and also moodier. I can blame that all on the prednisone. Still, this week I've been able to be busier, and that has helped. For logistical reasons, we squeezed our Hanukkah party in last night, when it was no longer Hanukkah. You can't do that with the major holidays, but you can do it with Hanukkah, or at least we do, planning it around when the college "kids" come home and the working "kids" can get away.

Diane and David and their two children, Lily and Sam, came to our house last night from Newton for dinner, lighting of the candles and a present exchange. Joe is home for his winter break, and Ben managed to come for a few days. I, obviously, was already here with Katie.

They will laugh if they read this, because it is an understatement: I am not too well-organized. In addition, I am especially spaced-out these days. So, I'm lucky that Ben was around all day to push me faster through my errands, and that, after jockey practice, Joe stepped in to help make the dinner and hors d'oeuvres (which featured Kosher pigs-in-blankets).

Everyone, including of course Diane, stepped up in some way. It was a genuine family affair, and everyone seemed to have a good time.

Diane and I had to laugh about the way we set the table in our own heads. When we were growing up, it was always "Us four and ...." meaning our mother, father and us two sisters as the basic unit, adding on however many guests were coming.

Now as Diane parsed it out, it was "Us four and..." meaning her and David, Lily and Sam, plus the others, such as my three kids and me. I pointed it out as she said it aloud. To me, it's a different "Us four," meaning Ben, Joe, Katie and me, and then the others.

The building blocks are the same, just arranged differently. I'm glad that I'm still in the mix.