Transfer Of Power

 Those of us alive today are uniquely in the position of seeing not one, but two world paradigm power shifts.  Most people never see any.

When I speak of a world paradigm shift, I am talking about the balance of power shifting away from one state and to another (or more than one).  The Rise of The Athenian Empire - and its fall to Sparta, who fell in turn. The rise of the Persian Empire, followed by its fall to the Macedonian Empire.  The Rise (and Fall) of Rome and the West.  The rise of the Aztec Empire - and its fall, in turn.

In other words, not just a change in international politics, exchanging one player for another.  A change in how the national or international system works.

The first, in my lifetime, was the fall of The Soviet Union in 1989 and the collapse of Eastern Europe and the Warsaw Pact,  From 1947, this was the paradigm of the modern world.  Countries were either pro-Western or pro-Eastern (yes, there was a Non-aligned movement, but it never achieved the power of the other two).  When the Soviet Union fell - characterized, more than anything else, by the falling of the Berlin Wall - the world worked differently.  There was a unipolar world and the United States and its allies were in charge.

We are now seeing a second paradigm shift.  The fall of the United States in terms of world power and the rise of other nations.

Think of it, if you are a nation doing national power calculus.  The U.S. still has the ability to project power - it is an old boxer, who still has the power if he connects - but it is literally tearing itself apart politically, culturally, and socially.  If you are a potential ally, to ally yourself with the U.S. is to accept all of its cultural values and norms as correct and yours as invalid.  Additionally, the U.S. is currently in a race to see precisely how much additional debt it can take on in the smallest amount of time possible ($1.9 Trillion in the most recent relief package, another $2.25 trillion at a minimum in the new infrastructure bill, with at least one more proposed bill outstanding.  Their solution is to raise the tax rate on corporations to a level higher than one of their opponents, China - and assure their citizens that the cost "will not be passed on".

In other words, a dis-united country rapidly approaching financial distress.  If you are thinking this has a similarity to The Soviet Union in the 1980's, you would not be wrong.

If I am one of the United States' current opponents - Russia, China, Iran - I really do not have to do much, if anything.  I just have to sit back and keep a certain level of confrontation up - maybe not war, just stress, the kind of stress that wears.  And wait.  The baton of power is already slipping from their hand; it will just slip more all the more quickly.

My prediction?   In future history books,  the period of dominance of the United States will be recognized as 1945-2020.  

To those who think that this will only be a slight inconvenience or even a slight gain due to a lessening of "spending", think again.  The fate of second rate powers in a winner take all Realpolitik system is not the sort of thing to write home about.

On Speech

 

Boldness Versus Courage

In Tides of War, from which I have pulled earlier quotes, Steven Pressfield puts into the mouths of one of the main characters of the book (and the Peloponnesian War) - Lysander of Sparta - the difference between courage (Greek: Andreia) and boldness (Greek: Thrasytes). It struck me that this quote encapsulates where I perceive we sit at this moment of history:

“Our rock is courage, brothers, upon which their boldness breaks and recedes. Thrasytes (boldness) fails. Andreia (Courage) endures. Imbibe this truth and never forget it.

“Boldness is impatient. Courage is long suffering. Boldness cannot endure hardship or delay; it is ravenous, it must feed on victory or it dies. Boldness makes its seat upon the air; it is gossamer and phantom. Courage plants its feet upon the earth and draws its strength from God’s holy fundament. Thrasytes presumes to command heaven; it forces God’s hand and calls it virtue. Andreia reveres the immortals; it seeks heaven’s guidance and acts only to enforce God’s will.

“Hear, brothers, what kind of man this conflicting qualities produce. The bold man is prideful, brazen, ambitious. The brave man calm, God-fearing, steady. The bold man seeks to divide; he wants his own and will shoulder his brother aside to loot it. The brave man unites. He succors his fellow, knowing that what belongs to the commonwealth belongs to him as well. The bold man covets; he sues his neighbor in the law courts; he intrigues; he dissembles. The brave man is content with his lot; he respects that portion the gods have granted and husbands it, comporting himself with humility as heaven’s steward.

“In troubled times the bold man flails about in effeminate anguish, seeking to draw his neighbors into his misfortune, for he has no strength of character to fall back upon other than to drag others down to his own state of wickedness. Now the brave man. In dark hours he endures silently, uncomplaining. Referencing the round of heaven’s seasons, he does what must be done, sustaining himself with certainty that to endure injustice with patience is the mark of piety and wisdom. This is the bold man, and the brave. Now: what is the bold city?

“The bold city exalts aggrandizement. It cannot remain at home, content with its portion, but must venture aboard to plunder that of others. The bold city imposes empire. Contemptuous of heaven’s law, it makes of itself a law unto itself. It sets ambition above justice and acquits all crimes beneath the imperative of its own power…”

“Courage is born of obedience. It is the issue of selflessness, brotherhood, and love of freedom. Boldness, on the other hand, is spawned of defiance and disrespect; it is the bastard brat of irreverence and outlawry. Boldness honors two things only: novelty and success. It feeds on them and without them dies. We will starve our enemies of these commodities, which to them are bread and air…”

“Thrasytes is perishable. It is like that fruit, luscious when ripe, which stinks to heaven when it rots.”

The bold (says Pressfield) are prideful, brazen, ambitious, divisive, grasping, covetous. When faced with misfortune, they seek to bring everyone down with them. They seek to impose their will on others and steal from others. Ambition is raise above justice, and all things are possible in its service – “the ends justifies the means”.

Is this not where we find ourselves now? In the midst of a culture that flaunts its self-created righteousness, glorifies its ambitious, divides individuals into small and dismissible constituent parts and determines who does and who does not fit in? That seeks what belongs to anyone or anything that it interprets as being too successful or too well provided for, even if that provision has been honestly earned?

But notice the other point Pressfield (through Lysander) brings up: It is a beast, something which feeds and succeeds only on novelty and success. Deprive of these things, and it will collapse under its own weight as all the forces that are turned outward turn inward to rend and claw among themselves.

Boldness, suggests Pressfield, always and eventually overplays its hand. What history suggests is that when this happens, it happens with terrible results. The nations, states, and organizations that suffer it are never what they once were.

TB The Elder And Mom: A Moving And Insurance Update

 This last Sunday we (I say we - it was really my sister and my brother in law) moved my mother into the same facility as my father.   This was where we had been hoping to end up the whole time, it just took us almost two months (and multiple hospital visit to get there).

My mother, from what my sister has related, is doing well with it.  She has a roommate who seems as active (and talkative) as she is, so we have every reason to hope that things will work out well.

My father has been struggling a bit more.

He had been much more vocal when we had seen him and talked to him about leaving and going "home".  We explained that it was really better if he stayed here because there were people around.

It is interesting - he likes the place well enough ("The people are nice", he says) but he complained multiple times about having nothing to do except sit in his room and watch television.  We have encouraged him (multiple times) to get out and do some activities or even just sit out with other people, but he has remained resistant.  He has said (again, repeatedly) he would prefer to be back home at The Ranch where people would visit him. We have to remind him that no, there were even less people around there.  Here is better.

It seems to have reached a pitch last Friday when we got a call from the Director, letting us know that he had tried to leave the facility twice for different locations (once his [deceased] brother's house, once the fire station).  I suspect if you get too many of those, you may get asked to consider "other options".

But we are hopeful that my mother being there will help.  She even told him on Sunday that he needed to stay there to help her.

Insurance update:  After multiple attempts to get an answer, we have had to resort to hiring someone to write a letter to the insurance company with the specific language to get them to fully pay out the policy, or rather "do what you said you would do".   The insurance company apparently now knows that they potentially should 100% cover this and so has been asking their questions and responding in such a way as to avoid getting the answer that would commit them to actually having to pay out the policy - to the point they will no longer talk to my sister about it.   Frankly, the whole thing just reinforces every bad impression of insurance companies I have.

On the whole, things seem (finally) to be moving consistently in the correct direction.  As always, thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

A Few Words From...Tides Of War

Last week, overtaken by a nostalgia for The Peloponnesian War (who is not, from time to time), I re-picked up Steven Pressfield's Tides of War, which is a fictional history of the war as seen through the life of the Athenian Alcibiades.  Pressfield, if you have not read him, is an amazing author - his Gates of Fire, which is a fictional account of the Battle of Thermopylae, may be the best historical fiction I have ever read.

In re-reading him, I was re-confronted with a number of quotes, really about leadership and the state.  They are presented in no particular order - given the last time I read the book (2-3 years ago) and the current state of the world, they seem even more poignant in some cases.

"Men hate nothing worse than that mirror held before them whose reflection displays their own failure to prove worthy of themselves."

"The man of the land," Grandfather rejoined, "is in the business of peace, he of the city in the service of war."

"A commander's role is to model arete, excellence, before his men.  One need not thrash them to greatness; only hold it out before them.  They will be compelled by their own nature to emulate it."

"Man's predicament is that he dwells as the intersection of Necessity and free will."

"Always assign a man more than he believes himself capable of.  Make him rise to the occasion.  In this way you compel him to discover fresh resources, both in himself and others of his command, thus enlarging the capacity of each, while binding all beneath the exigencies of risk and glory."

"As we seek to make our enemies own their defeat at our hands, so we must make our friends own their victories. The less you give a man, and have him succeed, the more he draws his achievement to his heart.  Remember we may elevate the (Athenian) fleet in two ways only.  By acquiring better men or making those we have better.  Even were the former practicable, I would disdain it, for  a hired man may hire out to another master but a man who makes himself master stays loyal forever."

"The prophet perceive truth, Pericles, but the politician brings it into manifestation, for his countrymen and often in the face of their bitter opposition."

"How lead free men?  Only by this means:  the summoning of each to his nobility."

Upgrading Irrigation?

One of the ideas I am seriously considering at this point is upgrading our irrigation here at New Home.

Our subdivision (built circa mid 1990's) has decent sized lots for the time period (not like those ridiculous "zero clearance" homes they are building now, where one is - literally - cheek in jowl with one's neighbor).  About 50% of the homes have in-ground sprinkler systems and 50% do not, leading me to believe this was an option but not a feature (currently all new homes are built with at least a front yard watering system; the backyard is left up to the buyer).

As a result, any and all watering is by hand or by moving a sprinkler hither and yon.  It leads to rather inconsistent results as well, both in watering and in the fact of what survives from year to year.

This would be the year to do it - thanks to Snowpacalypse 2021 the yard is mostly gone at this point (whatever grass we had planted, it apparently does not do well with a long stretch of freezing temperatures) so any digging that would be done would be inconsequential in the long run.  

It is an investment, of course - but one that would actually be worth something when we sell the home.  It would also lend itself to a larger remodel of the yard, which it appears is pretty needed and would serve to increase the overall home value (as well as, hopefully, some additional garden beds).

(I know, I know - I write of the end of the world and yet I am speaking of investing in a home improvement.  Plan for the worst, hope for the best).

It would be money, of course (sprinklers are something I could do in two months or pay someone two days to do - but perhaps money well invested, both in terms of the ultimate investment in home as well as in month water bills (which could be made much more regular in the summer, which here lasts at least 6 months).  

The fact I am thinking about this at all, given the nature of the world, makes me chuckle a bit - but looking at an essentially dead lawn which, if not cared for and improved, which just break apart and start to degrade with the heavy rains we get here, convinces me I will need to do something.

An Imbalance

Your Society Is Doomed

Ayn Rand is an author I came late too in life - I first read Atlas Shrugged only about 13 years ago, and was shocked to find how much it resonated with met (although to be fair, I do not know that if I had read it 10 years earlier I would have understood it or had the patience for it).  Her fiction is as logical as it is frightening; you can literally see the events playing out from the facts that she presented.

The part I always found most amazing about the fictional account she wrote - really, the most frightening- was that it all seemed very real, like it could happen in real life.  Now, looking at events, it seems that we may be almost there.

When a society reaches the points that she lists above - when society reaches the point where the expectation is that individuals will sacrifice their industry and their creativity for the good of the society - when government has become nothing more than an enabler of itself in the name of the people -one knows that sooner or later, that society is indeed over.

It would be un-notice at first, perhaps:  individuals who could do more in the "work world" but do not, instead spending their energy and creativity on the side; people who quietly step aside when the plate is passed or volunteers are sought to help alleviate societal ills; people of skill and effort who quietly disappear from the major operations of society.  The sort of thing that is not noticed, until suddenly things are not working quite as well, or there are not as many goods and services available, or the great creative and business talents of the age have all seemingly disappeared and the remaining culture is homogenized.

We seem so very, very close to this.

Sadly that I am aware of, there no "Galt's Gulch", no place where the skilled and independent and makers can flee to - or perhaps if there is, I do not rate.  It seems more likely that such people - more of us out there than many believe, perhaps - will move away if we can or if we cannot, slowly sink into the pavement and soil, being outwardly as  unremarkable and non-enthusiastic as the rest of the society around us, reserving our real callings and gifts for our internal lives or a very small group around us.

Much like in Atlas Shrugged, if it comes to that such people will be missed and called for.  And, like in Atlas Shrugged, they will not be found.

 

Thou Shalt Not

 

When One No Longer Believes In The State

 At what point does one lose one's belief in the existence of one's state?

Is it something like a bad first date, when in the midst of the salad course you realize that this is really going nowhere but now, having ordered, you are committed to the entire meal? ("Really?  Collecting mold and fungi.  How interesting..."<signals waiter for another drink>).

Or is it more like the moment when twenty years into the career or marriage, you realize that things are going nowhere at this point and more of the same is not going to solve anything? ("No, really it is not you.  It is me.").

The moment comes for all states at some point:  The Roman Empire, The Hapsburg Empire, Somalia, Russia/The Soviet Union/The Commonwealth of Independent States.  Czechoslovakia.  Yugoslavia.  Our 19th and 20th century constructs of states as immovable items that are fixed in size and territory is somewhat of a historical aberration.  In reality, borders and control have been much more fluid in large parts of history than what we (or really, state governments) like to believe.

But a moment comes, a moment when suddenly "the state" is no longer the thing that you thought it was.

I suppose for me, this has been building for some time.  But I have effectively reached the point that while I live "here" and am a citizen of "here" (and as such, will continue to pay may taxes and obey the laws at the moment), my heart and loyalty are no longer "here".  

The state could continue to exist.  Or completely break apart.  And I would not care either way, really.

Part of the benefit of the state - beyond a shared identity - is that there are benefits:  economic, social, philosophical, rights.  When those benefits fail to outweigh the issues and pains of living in the state, the reason for the state begins to disappear.

If I no longer really share an identity with my fellow "citizens" (which I really do not in a lot of meaningful ways), if I no longer benefit from my financial inputs (that stimulus package and the proposed infrastructure package will have to be paid for by someone and with acurrency that is not in the process of debasing), when my ability to believe things begins to be questioned and looked down upon, and when the government begins to have doubts about me because I have questions about them and their philosophy and beliefs, then I am not really reaping benefits from the state.

At that point, what is this state really for?  And why should it continue to exist?

A Failure Of Foreign Policy

 While not (in general) a purveyor of politics on this site, I do have more than a slight passing interest in International Affairs.  Call it a holdover from a Minor in International Relations (which has done precisely nothing for my life) or that lingering nostalgia of applying - and failing - the Foreign Service hiring process, I still maintain a moderately keen interest in the goings on of the world "out there".

Suffice it to say, this last week the last week has been a rather large, fat foreign policy failure for the country I currently reside in.  Somehow in the period of a week the current administration managed to blatantly insult a sitting head of state (Russia) and then got played in return, initiated the first round of talks with another country (China) starting with preceding the meeting (within hours) by sanctioning persons in the government just prior to having the meeting and then having a rather public argument, and starting to create questions about an agreement put in place by the precious administration (Afghanistan).  Add to this another round of attacks abroad (Syria), and it was a pretty cringeworthy performance for an administration, no matter Red or Blue.

Let us be clear:  I do not particularly agree with any of the countries mentioned above or the leadership.  But that is a separate issue from the performance of the leader of the country I live in.

In general in life, one does not begin a relationship by insulting your potential partners, questioning their motives (or outright calling them a "killer") unless one is either a) supremely confident in one's own cause; b) supremely confident in one's own power, or 3) a fool.  Insulting people first under the guise of "speaking truth to power" works only when those in power care to hear your opinions, value them, or are in a position where they have to listen to them (e.g. a domestic constituency).  For countries where this is not true, there is no need to pay attention to such foolishness.

And this is what it is, foolishness.  Make no mistake.  Were the situation reversed, a Red in for a Blue, we would non-stop here how things were being "badly mishandled", words were "culturally insensitive", and the "amateur attempts at diplomacy" derided.  Instead, tellingly, we hear nothing both silence.

I would like to believe it is the silence of embarrassment.  I fear it is the silence of agreement by people who should know better and by those that have willingly sacrificed everything on the altar of partisan policy.

However, the most alarming thing - at least for the policies of the country I currently live in - is the appearance it leaves with the rest of the world.  These are not the worlds and policies of a country secure in its foreign policy and view of the world.  These are the words of an administration that is weak, looking to prove itself "strong".  In real life, we would call this a bully, and what may even worse, a bully which apparently is spoiling for a fight.

In the current state of affairs, we apparently just name it "business as usual".

Alpacalypse and Llamageddon

 (HT to Borepatch, who inspired this silliness.  In this midst of a world gone mad, we should at least have a hearty laugh once in a while.)

Keeping To Yourself

One of the best pieces of advice which I probably did not take until later in life (hopefully not too late) is "Keep to yourself" - or perhaps, :"Keep to yourself (and carefully chosen friends)."

We live in a world where the expectation is that we will be spreading ourselves all over the place, like quilts on a summer day for a picnic:   activities, social media, organizations, employment.  That this is something that we need to engage as part of a free, 21st Century society. That somehow this is "freeing".

To suggest that one does not want to be part of this great exposure is to commit a form of heresy.  There is something wrong with you. When someone asks about social media, try mentioning that you do not have accounts or you have not posted to them in several months or years - the looks you get will be amazed, surprised, and astounded.  When asked about the latest entertainment attractions - streaming, movies - mention you do not use them or go to them.  It is as if you have lost the ability to entertain yourself.

But I would argue these are merely surface indicators of greater intrusiveness.

More and more in my experience, participants in any group or conversation are somehow expected to "open up":  to share their thoughts and feelings, often with strangers; to somehow be "transparently honest and vulnerable" about things that many people scarcely discuss amongst their close family and friends, let alone a casual stranger.

I would guess some of this is fueled by the idea that we now have the freedom to say and express anything we want - and therefore we should.  The accompanying axiom is that if some feel the need to say and express everything, everyone should feel free to - or be "encouraged" to.

The rather sad accompanying reality of this, of course, is that freedom to share is not willingness to accept. To expose an opinion or thought which is not currently in vogue is to unleash the forces of  "polite distancing" or "wrong headed thinking".  And thus individuals are thrown into situations where they are suggested to, pleaded with, even almost bullied into communicating, only to then be thrown under the bus for said communication.

Do not make the mistake I am discussing something as mundane as politics or social issues here.  Anything - beliefs on agriculture, philosophy, religion, even hobbies - are open to this sort of push and pull, this sort of "I want to hear your thoughts" followed by "Those are terrible thoughts."

And thus, the realization that the advice "Keep to Yourself" is real form of wisdom.

There is nothing - not one thing - that requires me as an individual to express an opinion or a thought to anyone.  There can be some things that compel me to speak out, but those things are relatively few and far between. For the most part, I get to make a decision about whether or not I want to participate in a discussion or offer an opinion.  

Once upon a time, a thought or opinion or relationship that allowed the communication of such was considered to be a privilege, not an expected right.  Somewhere along the way we upended the expectation and now those that wish to live private lives of thought and action are at best considered selfish, at worst considered dangerous.

Of course, groups of people that think the same, discounting any other sort of opinion and demanding a single voice, are mobs.  And mobs, as history shows us, are dangerous.

The Afternoon Hare

 

The Afternoon Hare

churns across the road and climbs,

evading my eyes.

(if you are having trouble, look to left of the Manzanita tree, right below the edge of the pine branches)

Revolt Against The Modern World

 

(Hat Tip:  Glen Filthie)

Revolt is a sturdy word.  It implies action. It is not as ethereal as "disdain" or "ignore"; it implies active engagement.  It is the sort of thing that you would see in books from the 1950's and 1960's:  Revolt on Janus, Revolt On Mesa Gordo, that sort of thing.

Of course, revolt also implies a sort of short term of local event.  Long term revolts we call revolutions or civil wars or war of independence (depending on who wins, of course).  

There are plenty of things not to revolt against modernity, of course.  I like my morning coffee, and treasure the fact that virtually anything that is in the world can (within reason) get delivered to my door in a matter of days.  Electricity is useful too, as it having the availability of modern medicines and a way to get tomatoes if the plant does not bear them (as happens to me every year).

But  trinkets (and I would argue some of these are such, and others are simply conveniences not necessities) are not all there is to life.

There is a deadening of modernity, a splitting of the soul.  People crowd into urban environments ("human feedlots" as Hobo says), yet take the weekends to drive their cars out to the wilderness to "get into nature".  We have far more things, but far less humanity.  Too often our neighbors - at least in urban areas - are only known by the cars coming out of driveways and garages in the morning and going into them in the evening, while our friends and acquaintances live far away.  We deny the existence of numinous, yet then try to pour eternal meaning and value into things and systems that cannot bear them.

Modernity deadens instead of enlivens, bifurcates instead of unifies, and turns all things into the marketed to and the product:  any aspect of the person is now a potential source of power and profit for a government or corporation or anyone that feels they are not "heard".

So revolt.

A revolt can be a small thing:  Not using television.  Reading.  Making something with your hands.  Actually speaking with your neighbors.  Building a haven of nature in your urban world instead of leaving your urban world to inflict yourself on Nature (or even better, just moving to a more rural location).  

Even the simple act of failing to pay attention to one thing in the modern world that "demands" attention is an act of revolt.

Imagine.  A nation, a state, a world of revolutionaries, quietly going about building and living lives of meaning and significance and purpose instead of being a product or customer, of being a partner of the real Natural world instead of a consumer of Nature on their terms, of knowing the seasons and the chance of a good crop of garlic or the next handcraft product but not knowing (and frankly, not giving a damn) about what the powerful or glamourous say or think or demand that we listen to.

Long Live The Revolution.

Rainy Thursday Afternoon

It is a rainy afternoon as I write this.  Off in the distance, the cattle are over in the Upper Meadow eating through drizzle, having finished up the good hay and are now picking up everything else.

It is more green than brown now, more living than dead, as has undoubtedly happened every year I have come here although I do not remember it as such always - for many years (most of my childhood anyway), there was only "green" or "brown".  The subtleties of life renewing itself were lost on me.

When it rains, the clouds always hem us in here.  It is if the world has been reduced to the border of trees, while outside - "Here There Be Monsters".

New Home is not like this.  Even when the fog and clouds come, one always is aware that one is surrounded by a pulse of life around.  Always, there is traffic running in the background.  The bark of dogs, the sounds of people - there is never the sense that one can get away from the world; the world is too much with us there.

I am more than aware that in reality, even here the "world" is still out there.  I have been following the news, and from the view of someone that has tried to keep the world at arms' length for a while, it seems that we are rushing toward the Abyss as quickly as we are able - economically, domestically, internationally, religiously, culturally, in every fashion and and on every front.  

Yet all of that seems strangely remote here - indeed, if I were not connected to the InterWeb I would scarcely know that any of it was happening as I have dispensed with television long ago and the radio is, as often as not, just a ceaseless chorus of yammering and music I can scarcely recognize or listen to.

True, at this moment - or this one, or this one - fire could descend from the sky and kill us all or I could simply die from a natural condition.  But even then, I would know no different than I would if I would continue to look out the window and away from the world, watching the cows graze and the grass slowly turn to green.  Yet in this topsy-turvy world, I would be considered the fool for ignoring the world and "hiding" from it.

My response, of course, is that I see the world perfectly fine.  It is those who look everywhere else that can see nothing.

Read Hard, Read Well, Read Often

"For a long time also, we should read none save the best authors and such as are least likely to betray our trust in them, while our reading must be almost as thorough as if we were actually transcribing what we read.  Nor must we study it merely in parts, but must read through the whole work from cover to cover and then read it afresh, a precept which applies more especially to speeches, whose merits are often deliberately disguised." - Marcus Fabius Quintilianus (Quintilian), Institutio Oratia

A Brief Moment Of Gloom

One of the things I have tried to commit to in writing here is that I am honest about myself and where I am.  In a way, I am also relieved (although saddened as well) that my father will likely not read them:   one of the original reasons for doing this more intensely over the last years was as much writing for him as for myself (until all of you lovely people showed, up, of course).  But it also relieves a certain need for reticence on my part lest my father worry too much (I know that I can be gloomy and still pull out of it; I do not know that he always understood that).

In that spirit, yesterday I was hit by a wave of discouragement.

It started out innocently enough.  I have been working my way through my e-mails partially just to get it done and partially just because of the fact that I currently have not a great deal to do:  my projects are all effectively on hold awaiting decisions above my paygrade.  I attend a few meetings, take a few supplemental notes - and keep grinding away at my e-mails.

For some reason, it sent me down a rabbit hole of despair.

I am not really sure why.  Yes, it is about that time of year last year that I got re-assigned.  So for some unknown reason, I had to go through my e-mails to find that letter (yes, thankfully they are all organized now and readily available).  Which then sent me down the road of the other people I had known that had left the company, including my friend that I had to let go.  So of course I had to go run down that series of e-mails as well (thanks, again, for the wonderful organization).

Which, frankly, left me in a funk.

Yes, I can agree to the fact that the previous evening - for reasons unknown - I lay awake most of the night.  And yes, I know that without sleep, I rapidly degrade in functionality.  And yes, I am more than willing to acknowledge that the last month has been hard and the going and coming back and going and coming back is leaving me feeling as if I am a bit rudderless and neither "here" nor "there" no really "anywhere".

But at the same time, I keep looking at that stack of e-mails as it continues to dwindle and wonder "What happens after I am done with these and none of my projects restart?"

Yes, I know.  "What happens after I am done with these and all of my projects restart?" is just as likely a scenario, and then I will have more than I know what to do with (and a nicely organized in-box to boot).  But the feeling of being isolated on the fringes of activities, of quietly staying busy until the next round of busyness comes, and hoping that no-one starts to ask those sorts of questions (again, lesson one:  Attract no attention to one's self) are hard to keep at bay.

Is this what obsolescence feels like?

A Little Taste of Winter

 I woke up this morning to something I have not seen here in 11 years:  Snow!

(I know for my Canadian viewers, this is a sort of "Look at the cute Baja Canadian.  For us, this is like May/September" moment.  This is about the right amount of snow for me.)

The camellias did not mind the weather.

It was all gone by the middle of the day...

Although it did still spit snow from time to time.

In my world, the best place snow is viewed from:

A March Update On Mom And TB The Elder

 As always, thank you for your kind thoughts and prayers.  I am back at The Ranch and saw both my mother and my father yesterday.

Mom:  My mother is doing well health-wise.  We did comment that when we saw her today, we did not remember either the sweater or the glasses she was wearing.  We assume she got them from somewhere?

Sadly, the insurance appeal was rejected. We may have a slightly modified back up plan:  in the re-reading of the rejection letter, the insurance company noted that it was either a 24 On-Call RN or an onsite RN at least 5 hours a day, 7 days a week.  The current location of my father (which has a memory care facility)  says they meet the requirement.  Best case, we relocate my mother there.  Less best case, there seems to be one facility in our area that meets that requirement so we will try that one as well.

The policy is good and pays 100% - if you can find a location that meets the requirements

TB The Elder:  TB The Elder was released from the skilled nursing facility on Saturday and went back (literally across the parking lot) to the location we previously moved him into about a month ago.  This facility allows outside visits, so I was able to see him for the first time in month not through a window.

His voice almost sounds like it is back to normal, but he is still weak - the RN that helped bring him out said that he had almost fallen once or twice getting into the wheel chair.  The conversation at first was pretty bland - he did not remember the fact that my sister and brother in law were there the day before to help him move over, he is not that enthused about the meals, he did actually change his clothes at the suggestion of an attendant.

And then, things got a little rough.

He announced to us that he did not want us to be angry with him,  but he intended to go back to The Ranch.

No Dad, my sister told him, you have to stay here.  You cannot live there any more because it is out and you cannot drive.

I can get a car here and drive was the response.

The conversation went downhill a bit from there.

My father never got angry or yelled, but he was very firm and insistent that 1)  He did not want to be here; 2)  That he was concerned that the Ranch be taken care of; 3) That he wanted to be living back there, not in the current location; 4) That if we would not do it, he would drive himself there.

What followed was a sort of circular argument:  1)  We understood that he did not want to be there, but that given his health (and memory), he had to be here and we need him to try to make a go of it; 2)  The Ranch was being and would be looked after; 3)  Even if somehow he could physically do it, he cannot drive and thus cannot be there alone and it will be a while before someone could be up there at all; 4)  He cannot be driving.  End of story.  Hopefully we would be able to take him up to The Ranch or other places on day trips once The Plague has ended, but not until then.

This is going to be hard, harder perhaps than the last month has been.  

My fear - and I think my sister's fear as well - is that he is going to be difficult and if difficult, eventually will be asked to leave (as my sister told him, "If something happens, I get that call.  Or TB does".  That either in what can only be classified now as his dementia or his stubbornness, he will not be willing to make a go of it.  Truly, I do not know what we would do if something like that happened (we would have to figure it out, of course).

The one thing I need to work on - and something I suggested to my sister - is working on not engaging him when he is like that.  Just nodding and saying "Okay, let us just give it a few days more and see how it works out".  Do not engage in the argument. I am not smart enough to understand it fully, but I suspect that in some way the argument is a way to engage us and draw us in.  We need to find other ways to engage him - and us - that does not involve re-covering the same ground over and over.

And hopefully, does not involve us (either by insurance or request) having to relocate him.  I cannot now at all imagine how we will manage that.