Last Sunday In January

It is definitely winter now, and we’ve had a few snowfalls to hammer home that point.   Still, there has been some sunshine so no complaints, just a lot of shivering!

I have been in frequent touch with my daughter, who has requested a residential program to help her turn her life around.  She says this is the first time she has sought help on her own and I am not sure that’s strictly true but let’s not quibble - it is a good thing and I hope it happens.  Her admission is scheduled for February 22, Ash Wednesday.  Although I am not sure she remembers any of her catechism lessons, it begins a period of reflection for believers, which is not a bad practice for any of us.

Today is Sunday, the 4th game of the Dominoes season, and I am ever so slightly in the lead, which drives the men-folk crazy.  Evan just wants to win and, although he is an appreciative guest, he is far happier when he is ahead of us in dominoes. But Sunday has an added attraction for Jack.   It is not only my sewing mojo that has gone missing, I have also been lax with cooking and cleaning.  So Sunday has become the one day of the week lately that I actually plan ahead for dinner and don’t just throw something together — or not — and so Jack sincerely looks forward to Sunday evening, win or lose!  

Jack and his daughter decided that we would have George come to visit on Sunday mornings, which means I also cook a reliable breakfast and lunch this one day a week.  Fortunately, neither Jack nor George (nor Evan!) are fussy eaters so, despite my laziness, it is definitely not a hardship.

To help with my sewing lull, I made a numbered list of the projects in my sewing room and drew a random number for January — number 6 — which meant that I am supposed to finish a tote bag pattern, a rainbow block (blue for January), and bind a small finished quilt before the month is over.  I made a couple of rainbow blocks but have not settled on what pattern I will use this year so I still need to work on that, and I finished binding the little quilt, but the tote bag is not finished yet.  The end of the month is looming so I need to get my going going or I will start the year behind.  And I really need to do more than one "number" a month, which is absolutely doable since many of the projects are small ones -- however, there are 34 numbered projects that are ready to go, with pattern and material bundled up together, as well as another 10 projects that are intended but not fully stocked yet.  If I don't get moving on it soon, my project list is sure to outlive me, and I really don't want that.

Home Sweet Home

Timing is everything when one travels and this time our timing was off, through no fault of anyone.  But my daughter was in frequent touch during our 2-day trek home, and that was much appreciated.  Once certain that her partner was, indeed, going to survive, she was able to better cope.  Although my coping skills are a lot better than hers, I remember the feelings when Jack had his stroke five years ago and I sympathized with her sense of being overwhelmed.    Unfortunately, when her partner was released from the hospital he had forgotten a few days and didn’t remember cashing and spending his own check (which he did while we were still there).  As a result, he became paranoid and angry with her, a problem that has increased since his cancer treatment, and she was overwhelmed in a whole different direction.  What a week of whirlwind emotions, swinging from fear for him to fearing from him in the span of a few days.  I would give most anything to free her of this life she refuses or is unable to abandon.  But enough of that - like Prince Harry, I am prone to overshare.

Neither Jack nor I slept as well on the homebound train-ride north as we did on the way down, but we enjoyed each other's company.  I took a train selfie in the mirror of our tiny bedroom.  

After another day and a half on the "City of New Orleans," we arrived in Chicago and were reminded mid-way through our seven-hour layover there that we are not as young as we used to be and will need a bit of time to recover!  My knees stiffened back up as soon as we hit the cold northern air  and since I’d read both of the books I brought on the way down, the hours dragged by.  We were both eager to be home, even though I was not looking forward to continued cold.  Still, I amused myself by noticing couples who were sitting together, and how many of them had taken on each other’s facial expressions.  A woman and a man reading their books with identical frowns, another couple doing different things, but both with the same half smile.   I wondered whether Jack and I have (or will) come to resemble each other.  

The two of us played “ten thousand,” a dice game, on the final train home, a game that he regularly beat me at until this trip, when I took three games out of four.  When we arrived at our destination station, my car doors were frozen shut, the car was covered with ice, and we needed to charge the battery before we could put this “vacation” behind us.  But Jack talked about how much he enjoyed a variety of the experiences in New Orleans, and I was happy to hear it.  It was a very long day but we arrived home just before midnight, and very happy to be here.

Tomorrow we will get our own lives back on track.  I still need to take down the Christmas tree and you can bet that there is laundry to do!   But most important of all, Dominoes Season is about to begin!

I Do Not Miss New Orleans

Jack had never been to New Orleans, which is not my favorite city, but I had not seen my daughter since before the pandemic and he hadn't ever met her, so we decided it was as good a time as any to visit.  We decided to take the train because flying sounds like a nightmare lately, Jack had enjoyed train travel for years, and I had never been in a sleeper car.  Train travel makes for a long but fairly stress-free trip.  When Jack last traveled by sleeper car he told me about the white linen service in the dining room and the amazing porters who catered to his every need.  We first took the train to Chicago, then had a 7-hour layover (made a little more comfortable by use of their ‘first class’ lounge, a perk that went with the sleeper car and that we discovered by accident since no one told us about it).  Finally, we boarded the train they call the City of New Orleans (there is an earworm for you music lovers and yes, they really do call the train that).   

On our way from Chicago to New Orleans, we had a “roomette”, which is, as the man across the aisle said to me when he saw his, “a whole lot smaller than I expected.”  It was the size of two coach seats, facing each other, with a pull down shelf above them.  Less than 4 feet wide,  just barely long enough for Jack to lie down when the two ‘bunks’ were assembled, and a little claustrophobic since there are curtains in place to close the cubby off from outside view.  Still, it was surprisingly comfortable and the phrase “rock me baby like a southbound train” is apt; the motion of the train after a long travel day put me out like a light.   So that was the plus side of the trip.  On the other hand, the meals that used to be considered a really good part of train travel seem to have disappeared with Covid.   Meals were still provided, but they were the worst possible version of a tv dinner, a small plate of microwaved and barely edible stuff, served at 9:30 pm,  that caused heartburn so severe that it woke me up repeatedly during the night.  Breakfast and lunch were no better.  When I mentioned this to someone later they told me “you get what you pay for,” but in fact the train travel took two days and cost considerably more - nearly 3 times more - than a flight would have.     Even so, we arrived.  

We couldn’t reach my daughter the first night but we did get in touch the next morning.  My daughter has what one might call ‘issues;’ she is disabled and not real reliable, but we finally got in touch and had dinner with her and her partner that evening.  

We had hoped to spend whole days with her and, although I surely should have known better, we spent the first day and a half sitting in our hotel room, waiting for her to be ready to meet.  

On both the second and third days, we tried to set up plans to take her to do some errands she needed done and that she couldn’t afford— updating her state ID, getting her a transportation pass, things like that — but she was not quite ready whenever we checked with her so Jack and I went out to see some sights and kill some time.  We walked all day both days, listening to street music and letting Jack soak in some of the feel of the city, ride the streetcars, eat all the blackened catfish he could hold, and taste alligator for the first time (he  liked it).   

Like any first-timer, he bought a few souvenirs.  Jack decided he wanted a "New Orleans Hat" and found one at Eunice's Jazzy Hats on Dauphine Street.  Several people complimented him on it during the day, so maybe it really is NOLA style!

The fourth day, while we were again waiting for my daughter to be ready, her partner collapsed in their kitchen and was rushed to the hospital, where he was placed in the ICU.   It was all for the best that she was home when it happened.  All of our intended plans came to a halt then, and she later met us briefly to pick up the food we had gotten for her, but it was a difficult visit for her because she was understandably overwhelmed.  Her partner was initially on a ventilator and she was afraid to even visit him, but by the time Jack and I visited the next day, he was awake and alert, and the ICU nurse assured me that he is expected to make a full recovery.  By this time my daughter had stopped answering the phone but I sent her a photo of her partner, hoping to reassure her.  The next morning it was time for Jack and me to board the train for home, still without getting in touch with my youngest child.  Not the visit or the ending that any of us hoped for.   

Hard times happen to everyone.  But mentally healthy children are so easy to take for granted.  Take it from me — don’t.

Last Year's Quilts

 I did not accomplish much in the sewing room last year, but I wasn't a total slacker.  Here, along with countless more ornaments and a dozen or more pillowcases, are some of the things that were finally totally finished and gifted: