Transitioning the Year

Most people have found the 2020 calendar year something of an adverse experience.  And from a population perspective it was with global civilian deaths, threats to the primacy of the voters in America, restrictions on travel for everyone, and much loss of personal contact.  It was also a time of innovation.  I can attend seminars with the top minds in the world electronically, previously inaccessible to me.  Scientists who understand what's on those posters that I just walk past at meetings assembled to create a number of intricate immunization options in short time with unprecedented ingenuity to distribute these innovations to a global population.

For me personally, I didn't get real sick, but wondered about it for a few days in April when my sleep pattern reversed and a headache took over, reversing over a few days.  I wonder if I was hypoxemic.  That led to a purchase of a pulse oximeter, which I've not had to use.  I feel good for the most part.  My weight records show about a 5 pound reduction in weight, not change in waist circumference, but pretty consistent exercise performance over the course of a year.  I got away for my son's wedding.  I read more than my predetermined quota of books.  As Zoom enables connections to the world I've signed on my share of the time.

Some fundamental relations are different. My emotional attachment to synagogue has withered and probably won't be restored.  Some people and institutions have demonstrated that while they meet the minimum of B'tzelem Elokim, my respect requires more than the lower threshold. My B-list has gotten longer.  And I have enough stuff, almost enough experiences, so my wants have become fewer.  Some Me Time, Family Time, and a few reliable forums to express myself in a responsible way.

So the world moves from one year, a difficult one, to another with the optimism that it will play out as less burdensome than the last.  It probably will.  I can try to make it a more congenial time in my own way.

Early Awakening

After making great strides this calendar year with better sleep, incorporated as a component of healthier living, a notable but consistent setback emerged in the past month.  No matter what preparation I take, my internal clock awakes me at about 4AM.  It is not nocturia, which has gotten less, but failure to pass from one sleep cycle of 90 minutes or so to the next.  Typically the close of a sleep cycle brings people to a twilight rather than wakefulness.  I do very well with the previous cycles but at 4AM I pass into wakefulness without feeling fully rested.  Indeed, I can fall back asleep but the new waking time takes me past the 7AM latest arising that I had set for myself and was so successful for so long.  And my energy dissipates over the day, inducing a nap which may create something of a viscous cycle.

Reviewing classic sleep hygiene recommendations, I do pretty well though not perfectly both in the habit and environmental guidance. There is a set wake time, adhered to until this setback arose.  I have a reasonably set bed time, though without the ritual of relaxation.  Last caffeine is at noon, last alcohol typically a glass of sherry late afternoon or beer as my supper beverage, never both.  I have not done as well avoiding catnaps or avoiding using the bed for things other than sleep, though I cannot figure out why that would play out as a new consistent pattern of early wakefulness.  I could do better with putting a time cap on the screens though, particularly the smart phone which connects me to the world.  I have set a moratorium from 11PM to 5:30AM with mostly good adherence.  

My sleep environment could not be better.  Light blocking shades work well.  The room is quiet unless my wife or I intentionally play sleep sounds, which are mostly effective at creating sleep onset.  Great mattress from IKEA, down comforter, decent pillow options, smooth sheets, space heater for when needed.  No recent changes in any of these.  

Where I might do better, and once did do better, is not allowing myself to stay awake in bed too long.  If I fail to fall asleep I go back to my Man Cave for some TV.  When I awake at 4AM I accept that, stay in bed, focus on the comfort of being there, even if awake, and wait for the next sleep cycle, even if it ultimately takes me past the set awake time.  I don't know if that's the best course.

Next step seems to be avoidance of the bed for reading or napping.  Give that a go for a month and see what plays out.

Next Set of Initiatives

Something that has kept me focused for a while, though not learned until well into middle age, has been to determine long-term and intermediate goals, which for me runs on six month cycles.  I am concluding the last, moving ahead to the next.  Some things went well, particularly those with measurable, finite end points.  One was abandoned.  I waver whether deep sixing it resulted from it not being a real goal, not within my innate character, or just too hard to accomplish.  But it got crossed off with very little attention offered.

This Cycle:

1. Home: Create a home garden
2. Family: Visit each of my children
3. Health: Meet specified weight and waist measurements
4. Frontier: Have first draft of my book ready for editing
5. Mental: Submit three articles to three different publishers
6. Financial: Log my expenses on a specified day each month
7. Community: Engage in two organizations
8. Travel: Visit three historical mansions not visited previously
9. Self: Read three books
10. Long Term: Receive Social Security Benefits
11. Purchase: Engage in two Great Courses
12. Friends: Acquire two new friends.

Specific

Measurable

Attainable

Relevant

Time specified

I think all qualify.  Some are easy, some require tenacity.  The right mixture

Looking Shaggy

Covid-19 has a lot of offshoots, one being grooming.  I've had one haircut late summer, about 4 months ago in anticipation of my son's wedding.  There's not been a lot of incentive to update that, or beard trimming for that matter, which I have done more for comfort than appearance.  In this day of Zoom people can see your head and face, though the default position of my computer camera is to capture me at about the hair line.  I look a little like Wilson of Home Improvement fame who used to approach Tim at the fence separating their yards.  The fence came up to Wilson's eyes and he work a hat so that you could really only see his eyes and hear his advice to his neighbor. 

There are subsets of men who do not cut their hair, most notably Sikhs but also Rastafarians and for the face and earlocks, some Hasidim.  The Sikhs obscure the overgrowth with stylish turbans but typically have chest length beards which are invariably groomed.  The Rastafarians wear knit caps but let the dreadlocks hang loose.  The Hasidim seem to prefer facial shagginess.  

I have no religious justification for excessive hair.  It is groomed with a comb.  And it is far less than what most women accept for their normal scalp growth.  Yet after decades of regular grooming, my scalp hair seems excessive.  I touch it too much, which may be the best signal of needing to get it cut.

Slightly More Motivated

It's been a tough XMas week.  In a funk for a couple of weeks, not irritable but never quite able to get enough sleep.  I have maintained my exercise schedule, substituted one day snow shoveling for treadmill and reduced the speed on the treadmill, though not the duration.

After doing very well with sleep hygiene, my sleep cycle has become aberrant at about 4AM on several consecutive days, not transitioning from twilight sleep to the next cycle but waking me instead.  I get back to sleep but not fully rested by the usual wake time, which I have made a faithful effort to maintain.  

My daily list has a lot of activities, but I find myself focused on the easy ones.  I just don't seem motivated to deal with the more demanding undertakings, whether some scheduled writing or the challenging parts of house maintenance.  There are deadlines, which typically motivate me, or at least prod performance, but intrinsic motivation seems at a lull.  At least today I feel less dragged.

Failing Aerogarden

One among my many horticultural frustrations has been the inability to harvest my aerogarden.  I bought it on sale many years ago, used the seeds and medium that came in the kit along with the fertilizer pellets.  So far so good.  Never got a great harvest.  Subsequently, I have replanted herbs many times, using some potting soil and vermiculite.  Basil always takes root in the hydroponic environment, most other herbs less so.  This time I thought I had it going.  Basil abundant, though tall enough to have the upper leaves singed by the fluorescent light.  Oregano sprouted, parsley OK, dill recognizable, tarragon with full sprouts, coriander failed to sprout.  I watched it, mixed some generic plant food with water in the concentration recommended, and fed the plants.

Today, the dill and tarragon have met their end, oregano less abundant, parsley a little shvok, but basil appeared sturdy.  I assume the additive was toxic, though there might be other possibilities.  Since having optimal gardens indoors and out has a place on the next set of semi-annual initiatives, I will salvage what I can, then after the new year, reassess and try again.

Sore

After some snow shoveling, within my physical capacity, though not done in a while as we've not had meaningful amounts of snow for about two years, I find myself a little achy.  The cars are movable, my upper limbs and back a little less movable.  Interestingly, as I commit myself to exercising on the treadmill two days of three, which may have enabled the stamina to do the driveway as I nearly conclude my 60's, it has been my calves and ankles that have needed the day's break.  Fortunately, chest symptoms, either cardiac or pulmonary, have not limited me, either on the treadmill or on the driveway.

Still I need to deal with the soreness.  After finishing, I took a naproxen tablet, had a small mug of decaf coffee in the late afternoon, took a welcome nap timed to prevent it from extending into a late afternoon's premature sleep, and spent some time in the hot shower at bedtime.  I'm better today, not yet decided on naproxen.  And it's a scheduled day off from the treadmill.

I'm fortunate to still have the physical capacity to do this.  Moreover, there is something a little energizing as I see the various segments of driveway appear with each session, eventually to where I could back up my car into the cleared area to approach an uncleared area more efficiently.  Accomplishments appear tangible, much like washing dishes, less like writing or studying where progress often goes under the radar. Worth the sore shoulders.

Reviving My Snowblower

We have our nor'easter in progress.  Blobs of wet snow have pelted our house and windows for a few hours.  Before it ends, the forecasters predict about six inches of accumulation.  It has not snowed here for just under a year and a half, though I do prep my snowblower early every December.  Last year it didn't start, but being no forecast of snow, I did not make a serious attempt to get it functioning.

As the weathermen gave us a heads up, I gave it another go, again unsuccessful.  But with forecasts never exceeding my capacity to shovel the driveway and walk, my efforts were lackluster.

This cannot go on indefinitely.  Eventually we will receive and amount that I cannot shovel, so I at least tried to learn how to do as much tinkering as I could myself.  Changing the oil was easy, though probably not necessary had I not opened the cap without making the oil reservoir vertical.  A stream gushed out.  I have no good estimate of how much so it was off to Pep Boys for another quart of the lowest priced 5-30W oil on their shelves.  I also bought some Gumout.

It may have been two years since I changed the gasoline, though I try to run the machine at the end of each season until it runs out of gas.  There was still a small residual.  After no successful cranking irrespective of where I placed the choke regulator, I poured in the Gumout hoping the crud will liquify enough to let some gas into the engine.  I waited the hour or two, then the next day.  No luck, not even a successful cranking, so I will need to remove and replace any residual gasoline.  Then the spark plug.  Last year I at least got a spark, though one that did not catch, so this is a long shot, though easy to do.  The next two checklist items bring me to the end of my skill.  I can probably figure out which hose connects the gas tank to the carburetor.  Removing it and cleaning it may be less straightforward I should be able to find the clamps.  Then opening the carburetor I can do, since there are a few screws that can be removed with a socket kit.  I can probe, probably squirt some WD 40.  I'm trying not to make another trip to small engine repair, but depending on how I do with shoveling a small amount and difficulty trouble shooting the machine, that may be where I am headed.

Restocking My Alcohol Supply

My consumption pattern took an odd trajectory.  In the past six months or so, I've taken to a late afternoon's sherry or port, the cheap stuff from mass producers.  At a rate of about a wine glass, or even a tasting glass, before supper, a 1500 ml bottle lasts about two weeks, though really a little longer when sherry and port alternate.  In exchange for that I drink less beer.  The craft offerings have accelerated in price, leaving me to alternate with a few favorite brands:  Moosehead & Squirrel, Molson's, tried Lion's Head which I found too bitter.  And since I never have beer with any other alcohol on the same day, the usual purchase of twelve bottles lasts a while, even though I've abandoned soda other than seltzer from my supermarket cart, irrespective of an attractive sale price.  Spirits last even longer.  In the winter, I will make a hot toddy after supper, though never in the same day as anything else.  I am pretty good at limitation to a single serving in any day except when we have wine with dinner, when I am more generous with refilling my glass at the meal.  Though dinner wine is a special occasion, other than weekly kiddush.

So it came as a surprise when the last drops of several of these things poured all within a week.  Wine for my wife's birthday, Manischewitz at the last shabbos, last bottle of Molson's this week, sherry a couple of weeks ago not replaced since I still had about a liter of port remaining, and even the bourbon emptied in a recipe for coulibiac that I baked for my wife's birthday.

So off to Total Wine, my preferred megastore.  Kiddush wine was first priority.  Usually I get Mogen David based on price but they didn't have any.  I bought Manischewitz plain Concord Grape, the type made from kitnyot that cannot be used on Pesach.  Then more sherry, 1500 ml of cream style.  For beer, I found Anchor Steam variety pack, $15 for twelve bottles.  Interestingly, not only is price zooming, but availability of bottles seems to be giving way to cans, even among the better brands.  Cans apparently have advantages of shelf life, storage, shipping, and production for the manufacturers and improvements in canning have enabled less effect on the product.  I bought twelve bottles.  And for real booze, I started with replacing bourbon.  This has also gotten rather expensive, at least the brands I've heard of.  I settled for 750 ml of one I've not heard but had a pleasant color and attractive rectangular bottle with cork top.  While pushing my cart, I saw some Irish whiskey, something I did not have at home.  Browsing the shelves for the lower priced offerings, again with the brands I've heard of mostly above my willingness to spend, I selected a 750 ml cylindrical bottle with  attractive shiny green label.

Onward to the cashier, credit card debited about $75, then home.  When I arrived, my wife's car was not in the driveway.  Unknown to me she had gone out for her own replacement from a decent store around the corner.  Her wine, my preferred Mogen David Concord.  Since mine is not suitable for Pesach, we'll use mine now, then probably be ready to open hers for Seder.  She also replaced sherry, same brand as the one I chose but a smaller bottle of the dry variety.  And a bottle of dinner wine.

We are now fully stocked for a while.  The novelty being the Irish whiskey, I screwed open the top last night, put a zets of sugar in a stem glass, three ounces boiling water with one ounce of Irish whiskey for a somewhat bitter but relaxing hot toddy while I watched a recorded travel show in my Man Cave.  Decent ending to a mostly busy day.

Been Abandoned

This week it had been my intent to visit the Everglades, a badly needed vacation.  I can see gators online.  I can get food from the supermarket or takeout at home.  I can even make my bedroom warmer with a space heater.  What I couldn't do was access different people.

It's not for not trying.  I sent notes to two friends not accessed for a couple of years.  Neither responded.  I've been shut out of any synagogue planning though some other people have finally taken some responsibility for more inviting programs.  I was supposed to help decorate a storefront but they went ahead and did it without me.  

Even my FB friends have tired of the platform and moved on to something else.  Those who remain are personable enough but they largely pitch their political hardballs amongst each other.  OLLI classes have concluded.  I like the small weekly afternoon group, the closest I get to a conversation.

That's not to imply desperation as I can be pretty productive left to myself.  But I have the good fortune of deriving some benefit when others express what they think when I get to respond.  That's a lot different than typing the 140 character allotment of Twitter or some unilateral thoughts on Disqus when a published article merits my thoughts.  It's just not beneficially interactive, and more often red meat for trolls.

I am left to myself.  I am also ultimately responsible to myself.  Forums for interaction are not absent, just more difficult to exchange.  So Hillel seems right.  If I am not for myself who will be for me?  Looks like nobody.

Not Feeling Groovy

Actually a little sore, maybe even laudable sore calves from attentiveness to my treadmill sessions.  Arms less achy.  Rest of skeleton a little stiff but not painful.  A naproxen pill makes a difference, and maybe I'll take one later.  It does nothing for my mood and disposition, though.  While there are chemicals that can favorably alter that, and I've taken them previously, I came off it for a reason.  I don't plan to resume.

There are some non-pharmacological approaches to ennui, mostly by doing something meaningful or for me being interactive.  Covid has restrained the latter but I have a Zoom session with the Philadelphia Endocrine Society upcoming where I can engage in some chatter.  Meaningful may be more challenging. Access to the spectrum of the world fits in my shirt pocket.  Today's Task List has two columns of worthwhile activities from house upgrades, to preparing my snowblower for its next use, to semi-annual planning to reading what the masters of journalism have presented.  And I have total control of which I select.  While I control how I approach upgrading my current downcast outlook, there is probably something very intrinsic about moods.  But doing something offers a better prospect than doing nothing, so I'll immerse myself in a few worthy activities as the day progresses.

Rediscovering Herb Tea

While the rest of the world consumes tea as its primary hot beverage, in college I took a liking to coffee.  Our cafeteria offered a bottomless cup for 10 cents, which I would typically pair with a bow tie pastry and eat either alone or with a friend should one come by before my first class.  Later, as exams or other deadlines approached, I learned that I could stay awake and attentive with coffee at night.  I got an electric percolator, a bright orange one, that served me well for many years.  Once I started residency, living on the Harvard campus with my own money to spend, I expanded the flavors of coffee available and the means of brewing it, a treat that captivates me to this day, particularly since the varieties have expanded and can  be made in small quantities by k-cups with no waste or spoilage, though with some sacrifice of ultimate flavor.

In high school, maybe even junior high, I would brew tea bags, usually tinged with bottled lemon juice, more so when ill than other times, but also at night, though soda was the primary beverage.

Once married and living among Harvard students, which I was not, herb teas entered my palate.  I liked the ones from Celestial Seasonings, which many decades later let me tour their factory near Denver.  It had some advantages over coffee.  Consuming one cup at a time, it could be purchased a few tea bags at a time, lasted forever, came in endless varieties, cost less than soda per serving, and tasted good, though it lacked that jolt that drove me to coffee.  So when I went out to The Coffee Connection on Harvard Square or a pastry shop, I would get a specialty coffee, often in a French Press which was also a novelty at the time, and sample varieties, though at home I learned to brew supermarket coffee, no longer in my electric percolator but one serving at a time filtered through a plastic cone, which I still have.  Herb tea became a special diversion, though not a staple beverage.  We still kept some in the pantry, eventually using it up.

, 

Other brands like Bigelows and Twinings would go on sale, all with flavor enticements that exceeded their reality, while Celestial Seasonings had a higher price, no strings or individual sachets, but a better tasting blend.  Still, coffee not only dominated but with the availability of k-cups that allowed variety though mediocre sensory experience, it largely took over.  More recently, I have rediscovered herb tea.  Caffeine had started getting out of hand, causing me to restrict myself.  Specialty beans, purchasable loose in small amounts for home grinding got rather expensive and unlike my mill grinder that allowed one cup at a time, my burr grinder had a hopper that had to be kept filled.  Definitely an opportunity to give Celestial Seasonings a second chance.  They obliged with a sale and to expand the repertoire, included coupons in some of the packages good for later discounts.  

Now I have about a dozen boxes at my right hand on my kitchen island.  I'm starting to show preferences.  Zingers have always been my favorite, the spices other than peppermint less so.  I got a terrific Bengal Blend which seems to be dominated by cinnamon and cloves.  The ones intended to change my mood: Sleepy Time and Tension Tamer, usually don't.  There are also variety packs, which I have but have not opened.  So the Zingers in their various forms dominate.  But after the daily coffee ration has been attained.

Transitioning My Year

My respite to the Everglades was prudently cancelled.  I could use some time away, particularly time to fulfill one of the twelve initiatives for the half-year that I set five months ago.  My annual concept of time has a few demarcation points:  The New Year, the two planning sessions that command my attention in June and December, and Rosh Hashana.  Interestingly, my birthday, the landmark for myself has never been one.  There has also been some lifetime fluidity, with the start and conclusion of each school year in the fall and spring, and later with medical contracts that typically begin and end July 1.  But Auld Lang Syne has long since dominated.

I learn that it's not that easy to predict in December or June what I will find myself intrinsically motivated to perform six months later.  The finite, those with deadlines get done, for me this cycle, my son's wedding.  The visit to the National Park could have been done, but found myself risk averse, or at least foreseeing irrevocable regret should Covid-19 devastate my household over a mere personal pleasure.  I allocate a reading target and always fulfill it.  And I made my three intended day trips, with a day's pleasure at each, sometimes getting there and back offering more gratification than being there.  My bedroom, or at least my half, has become navigable and a reasonably attractive destination for sleep, which has also improved with dedication to optimal sleep hygiene.  I did not meet my weight goal, but exercise on schedule with negligible lapses, eat better, and shop for groceries in a way that assists weight control.  I bought and read two subscriptions.  And with some effort, I pay more attention to the progress of my finances.

What has gone less well are the interpersonal upgrades, the acquisition of new friends and engaging in two organizations in a meaningful way.  Covid-19 has posed a real barrier here.  In June

I assumed the worst was behind us, Osher Institute would resume, I could become more of a raconteur at kiddush, or be a presence at the Christiana Care senior physicians group.  None of that happened.  I access electronically, but there is a gap between a screen and a handshake.  I've been there before, of course, we all have.  College and medical school had big lecture classes followed by lonely reviews after sundown.  We also had communal meals, lab interactions, clinic interactions, some small classes.  I never had to watch a lecture on TV but contemporaries at big state universities got their introduction to Psychology or Economics that way.  At Endocrine Society Annual Meetings, we enter a cavernous ballroom with thousands of easily movable, not very inviting chairs while we watch the presentation on the screen nearest our chair.  We trickle in individually, sometimes recognizing somebody we know as we select our seats but never meet anyone new.  At the conclusion we head to our next destination, a mass of people individualized by name tag, but really only part of the aggregate.  It takes a lot more than personal presences to generate friends.  In college or in the workplace that happened by partnerships of various type.  At Osher it happened by random conversations with people seeking out a chair near yours in an open gathering location or by the accident of table seating in the cafeteria, rarely by individual classes.  Covid-19 has really imploded all of this.

Among my books for this half-year was Deborah Tannen's You Just Don't Understand, written about thirty years ago to offer a perspective between the underpinnings of male and female use of language.  She included a chapter on interruption of one person's speech by another.  Sometimes this is highly unwelcome but often it is the essence of connection.  Zoom imposes a formality to speech, much like school where you raise your hand and take your turn.  It is not interactive speech where ideas exchange spontaneously as they would among the informal connections that generate friendship or personal loyalty.  Those initiatives did not materialize, though only in part because of the new reality of verbal exchange.  

Over the years I have paid dues to many organizations, mostly professional, but contributed to few.  It is those few that I value the most and identify with.  Often I am designated as spectator, even with my synagogue, something not very inviting.  I've been to receptions where everyone knows everyone else, usually not eager to add a newcomer or even be on the prowl for talent and willingness to chip in.  I would say our local Democrats function this way.  The workplace was very different.  Everyone there was needed, though not everyone received the appreciation for what they contributed.  Some of our volunteer organizations would do better if they functioned more like the workplace.  Mine have not.

My semi-annual month of review and setting of directions for the next half-year has returned.  Semi-isolation will not change this cycle, perhaps as prevention of severe illness becomes available with immunization, it will the next cycle.  As I look at the twelve categories that comprise my projects, most of my big efforts are completed.  Health maintenance perks along.  My finances into retirement are stable, my family has small transitions, I'm into a reading and learning steady state, I don't need to purchase any more stuff.  I'm short of the interactions with other people, the immersion in the group, moving from spectator to participant.  Covid-19 has been a barrier, for sure, but not an immovable one.

Excessive Food

Between Thanksgiving and my wife's birthday, we have a lot of food, milchig and fleishig.  Had we a full contingent for Thanksgiving, six of us with two returning home after dinner, most of Thanksgiving would have been consumed or packaged, with a little remaining for us for shabbos.  As it is, recipe writers and food manufacturers have not really adapted well to the reality of people living alone or as empty nesters in ordinary times, made even more obvious by restrictions that Covid-19 safety has imposed on most of us.  I've not adapted to scaling down recipes or preferentially selecting those where excess can be frozen.  I'm not even sure I really have the cookware to make individual or double portions.  For my wife's birthday I made coulibiac which goes in a pie plate which seem pretty standard in size.  The almond torte goes in a springform pan, where I only had one designated milchig, though that I could have cut the ingredients and maybe baked it in an 8-inch skillet with parchment paper instead of a springform.  At least for the glazed carrots I took out the right amount.

Thanksgiving was harder.  I bought a half turkey breast which is easy to prepare and leftovers freeze well.  Soup could have been scaled back if I used fresh beans, which I did, but canned beans usually only come in one size.  Large cans of diced tomatoes can be portioned in plastic bags or they now come in small cans with some spice added.  Tomato paste can be used in the amount needed, the rest frozen in a sandwich bag and needed amounts broken and thawed later.  While the ratatouille excelled, it needs a variety of vegetables and therefore big quantity.  Better to make single vegetables and limited amounts of salad.  Stuffing can be scaled or frozen.  Cakes are hard to portion, either as partial recipes or finding smaller baking utensils.

I will likely have to send a lot of food to waste this time.  I enjoy the preparation and output, but need to reconsider portioning more appropriate to my circumstances.

In a Fog

Or perhaps in a snit.  Not taken Shammai's advice to greet everyone with a pleasant face this week.  Been achy, a little irritable, not quite hostile, and generally feeling imposed upon, though without justification.  It's been easy to create a list of what I want to do each day the evening before, not successful at all approaching the big projects.  As I read the synagogue offerings for December, I judge myself left out of any input to planning.  The decoration of a storefront by the Jewish Historical Society proceeded without me.  I've neglected most of my writing initiatives.  Filing papers from the living room remains half done.  

My sleep has settled into a new pattern of 4AM awakening without resumption of sleep, leaving me more tired.  Exercise gets done as a priority, though the benefit and intensity has plateaued.  I can start what I set out to do but not finish.  And I've been struggling to avoid responding in kind to those who annoy me.

Probably just need a vacation.  As my vacations from work got a little overdue, my disposition would deteriorate as it seems to be doing now.  Unfortunately, travel which was planned for next week seemed unwise enough to cancel the trip.  I will need to replace that, or maybe just spend next week doing different things from my customary activities.

Wrapping Gifts

Hanukkah approaches.  I try to maintain family traditions inherited from my in-laws though not successfully adapted by my children.  Each person gets one small gift to open each night. That way we avoid the extravagant.  More importantly, we have to think a little about the recipient and what things promote a small amount of pleasure.  I know who likes cats, regional sports, travel, some kitchen time, and some libations.  All easy to accommodate with four gifts each to my daughter, daughter-in-law, and son, with a double portion to my wife, who will also seek out four per child and eight to her spouse.  That's forty presents, and even with a $10 limit, it can add up, though I usually purchase well below maximum.

As children, and sometimes as college students who return home for winter break, I could just wrap each and hand it to them as each candle on our menorah is lit.  I still can for my wife and she for me.  If they came for Thanksgiving, I had all prepared to be toted back to their city.  Between distance, marriage, and Covid, it's all dependent on shipping by mail or other conveyance.

I have not included shipping in what I allot for each present but does affect the selection.  Things made of cloth, small jewelry, and textiles are light.  They don't break.  Edibles travel easily as well but the cost of transport sometimes exceeds the cost of product.  But with a little ingenuity, I've gathered what I need.  Only one poses a breakage risk and weight concern but it's so perfect that I'll just give it extra attention.  Some stuff can go in boxes, others better in gift bags which can then go into a corrugated box.  I harvested more than I need.  Have scissors, tape, plenty of Hanukkah and non-holiday wrapping.  And today I have motivation.