Blue-Footed Musings

Watching as much TV as I have lately, I’ve seen a lot of commercials. Notably, there’s an AT&T commercial starring Luke Wilson in which he says, “When you’ve been around [as long as AT&T], you can spot a hustle a mile away.” There he is talking about being able to “spot a hustle,” and it seems to me that the commercial is nothing but hustle. I particularly love the way Wilson pronounces the word “away” as “a-hway.” It sounds so artificially folksy. He has to know that it’s not the most common way to say the word, and that means he’s making a conscious choice there, deliberately attempting to appeal to “country folk.”

Are the country folk falling for it? It’s hard to imagine they are. They’re not stupid. But I sometimes get the sense that they like being pandered to, and if that’s indeed the case, then they’re getting plenty of it, not just from AT&T but also rival T-Mobile, whose commercials feature Billy Bob Thornton walking around in a similarly rural setting and saying similarly folksy things. (BTW, online I saw an article opining that these two actors with Texas connections had been chosen as spokespeople because Americans equate Texas with trustworthiness, to which I say: trustworthiness is not the first thing that comes to mind, honestly.)

The other day I mentioned that I had cancelled several streaming services. Specifically, I cancelled Amazon Prime, Apple+, and Hallmark, mostly because I thought we were spending too much on TV, but also because “Hallmark season” is over. My husband wasn’t impressed by my thriftiness until I pointed out that the total cost was approaching $40 per month. And anyway, we’ve been thinking about trying some new streaming services, and we certainly needed to dump a few before adding any new ones.

Speaking of which, my husband wants to get Paramount+. That’s fine by me, because that would allow me to watch new episodes of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds. I suppose I could also watch Star Trek: Starfleet Academy, but TBH I’m not that interested. The very first episode (offered for free on Prime) was underwhelming. I think I’d rather rewatch Star Trek: Lower Decks, which is also about younger, lower-ranked Starfleet folks. It may be heresy to say so, but I think it’s possibly the best Trek, with one giant caveat: you have to have seen all the preceding Treks in order to appreciate its greatness. The people behind Lower Decks know the lore and seem to love it as hard as the biggest fanboy while also understanding exactly what makes Star Trek tick. You can see the reverence and careful craftsmanship in every episode. I’m looking forward to watching it again, whenever that may be.

I went shopping on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. I was still bleary-eyed and emotionally wrung-out, barely able to concentrate, but I needed to pick up some things at the store. So there I was at Target, walking down one of the main aisles. This young guy was walking toward me on a crash course, as if he were playing chicken with me. I had to swerve my cart to avoid him, and he clearly didn’t care, and that pissed me off. In my head I said, “Next time I hit you, asshole.”

Would you believe that not a minute later he and I were once again traveling in opposite directions in an aisle, this time a narrower side aisle, and that he was walking straight down the very middle, taking up all the space, eyes glued to his phone? The Universe was clearly challenging me to stand behind what I’d said. I thought to myself, “This is it. You said you’d hit the asshole, and now’s your chance. Hit him!”

But of course I swerved to avoid him again. Anyone who knows me will be unsurprised by that. I am very predictably non-confrontational.

When I told this story to my mom, she said that I should have stopped walking and let him hit me. And maybe she’s right. As girls we learn not to take up space, but now I am a woman over 50. Have I not earned the right to claim my space and yield it to no one, even when it’s just a narrow strip of space in a Target aisle? And hadn’t that young man better learn to watch where he’s going before he finds himself in real danger and not merely at risk of a little embarrassment and/or minor bruising? There’s nothing like walking into a thing to teach you to pay better attention to your surroundings. Certainly that would have been a more effective lesson than me telling him to watch where he was going, which was another option I chose not to take. And perhaps, had I stood my ground, he would have swerved to avoid me. Who knows.

I say these things and mean them. Still, I know that were it to happen again I’d probably swerve again, and I have to wonder if that’s a bad thing, both for me and for the assholes of this world. Will we none of us ever learn better?

Last year, after my father-in-law’s funeral, I asked my boss if I could take back the PTO days I’d used for Christmas week and replace them with bereavement time. I felt a little icky asking but also justified. Losing a family member is awful enough. Using vacation time on grieving when you’d expected to spend it on celebration is like salt in the wound.

She replied that I could have up to four days of bereavement time. I’d only planned to ask for one but, knowing my tendency to short-change myself, I convinced myself to take two. My husband talked me into a third.

That means I have three extra PTO days for this year. In the system, they look exactly the same as all my other PTO days, but in my mind they are special and should be spent on something life-affirming. I need to think of a good way to use them.

I talked to a coworker by IM last week. She asked how I was, and I said I was “OKish.” She replied, “Same.” And I thought to myself, “Wow. How sad is it that neither of us can even commit to a neutral term at this point.” Neither of us asked why the other was “ish,” either. I think we just accept that nobody is happy with the way things are now. The details are almost irrelevant, and nobody wants to dwell.

I have been watching too much TV. It’s not entirely by choice. My shoulder has made almost everything painful. It’s hard to find a comfortable position for using the computer. Reading is difficult, because normally I’d hold the book with my right hand, and now that irritates my arm. I actually tried to read the other night, but then I got an ocular migraine (probably from not sleeping), and that put the kibosh on that. I can still play piano, but the uppermost notes are out of reach (my arm simply doesn’t move in that direction anymore).

In truth, it’s hard even to be comfortable watching TV, but it’s slightly less uncomfortable than anything else. The big challenge–especially after having canceled several of our streaming services–is finding things that I feel like watching. Imagine my delight when Netflix informed me that there was a new season of Bridgerton. I absolutely adore that show, even as I hate it in so many ways. I immediately starting watching the new season. Happily immersed in my love-hate relationship, I was shocked when the show came to a screeching halt after the fourth episode. Damn you, Netflix, for making me wait for the rest of the episodes!

I accidentally put my shirt on inside-out the other day. I noticed immediately but just as quickly decided to leave it be. It wasn’t worth the extra shoulder pain to fix it. The perfectionist part of me was pissed off about that, but she was in pain, too, and chose not to throw a fit. And to put things in perspective, it was such a minor indignity compared to the day of my father-in-law’s funeral, when I had to ask for my husband’s help getting both dressed and undressed. My everyday around-the-house clothing I can manage, thankfully. Dresses and bras with clasps I cannot.

My shoulder has gotten worse, so much so that I can barely sleep. My physical therapists had portrayed my shoulder problem as tendonitis, perhaps brought about by bad posture or whatever, and that I needed to keep working the muscles in order to avoid frozen shoulder. But my husband watched some videos on YouTube about frozen shoulder that suggested an alternative explanation. According to those videos–made by doctors–I am probably developing frozen shoulder and have been all along and likely for no reason other than that I’m a woman between 40 and 65. Though the doctors didn’t come right out and say it, the implication was that frozen shoulder is a gift from that old bitch Menopause. (And isn’t that just lovely.) Frozen shoulder often takes a long time to resolve itself, and I could have another 20+ months of pain to look forward to, though supposedly the “frozen” stage hurts less than the “freezing” stage. Anyway, I have an appointment to see an orthopedist next week, and perhaps I will learn more then.

January (7 posts): The most interesting thing about January’s posts is that I could almost have written them this year. I still have the same set of concerns (bird flu, my cognitive health, etc.). The difference is that I’ve achieved a certain level of detachment. The best post of the seven–a real bright spot–is the one about some things my kids said when they were little. Stories about them always cheer me up.

February (23 posts): The shortest month of the year turns out to have gotten the most posts. How unexpected. My favorites are Getting My Paws on Some Pawpaws (because it was a lovely day worth remembering) and Cake Stomach (because Livia is so wickedly funny).

March (6 posts): No standout posts, but a few standout ideas: “It’s time I finally told my Algebra Demon to fuck all the way off” (from Algebra Demon) and “Everything is hard at first, but hard work and persistence win out” (from Fixed, Finally).

April (2 posts): I wrote about the first violet of the season and the loss of our healthcare providers. What these posts make me think about now is how lucky we are. We are lucky to own our own home and to have the beauty of nature right outside the door. And though the healthcare system just keeps getting worse and worse, we’ve been managing to find doctors as we’ve needed them, and that’s more than everyone can say, sadly.

May (4 posts): The most interesting (and terrifying) thing that happened in May was the wildfire. Let’s hope we don’t get more of those.

June (6 posts): In Spring Cleaning I talked about the upcoming Book Liberation Day. That event happened later than hoped, but it did happen. All of our books have been liberated and all but a few are on shelves. We set aside a whole box of books to be given away, and I finally dropped that box off at the library earlier this year.

July (11 posts): In July, I enjoyed having a front yard full of clovers and a back yard full of swamp dewberries. I started walking more. For a while, I felt almost back to normal. I was walking, enjoying nature, and taking pictures, just like my old self. I wish I’d managed to keep all that up.

August (16 posts): I’m shocked to realize how long ago I broke my glasses. I still haven’t replaced them. In Looking for the Impossible, I talked about my hunt for a lake house. You do not want to know how much time I spent on Zillow last year. Some dreams die hard, or not at all. I had my 30-year work anniversary. How is that even possible? In Book Math, I thought about how many more books I might read, and the numbers were not reassuring. I still haven’t changed my reading habits, but I really should.

September (2 posts): One of September’s posts was an Ode to the Library (because libraries are awesome). The other was a list of thoughts and minor events from one particular week. Sometimes I think those sorts of posts are silly and hesitate to write them. But, looking at them in retrospect, I’m usually glad to have a snapshot of that time of my life, even if nothing major was going on.

October (16 posts): One of October’s posts makes me think that to-do lists should be tossed as soon as their term expires so that you can’t look back and say, “Oh, gosh. I still haven’t done that!” (I still haven’t gotten rid of the piles on my desk or had my celebratory birthday dinner–depressing). But the most important things happening in October were that I quit my music lessons and that my husband and I paid off our mortgage.

November (8 posts): The highlight of November was getting our back porch redone.

December (2 posts): December sucked. Let’s not rehash it.

I think I wrote just enough in 2025 to justify the continued existence of my blog. But there’s so much I didn’t talk about. I regret it now and will likely regret it more later. So many great memories lost. So many pieces missing from my life. So many records I wish I’d kept. So little to draw upon later.

If there’s any lesson to be learned from the collective posts of 2025, it’s this: write more!

My office continues to be a terrible mess. Nearly every day I say to myself that I will finally go through the piles of things and straighten everything up. And yet I keep not finding the time for it. I cannot lie to myself, though. I know that if I really wanted my office clean, I could have it done within a few hours. And if I wanted to organize it–really get all the way into the nitty-gritty–I could do that within a matter of days. The reason my office is a mess is because I am a mess. I am mirroring my internal chaos in my surroundings, and until I decide that I don’t want to do that anymore, it will not change.

I’ve been trying to get back into the habit of walking. When I looked out the window late this afternoon and noticed that it was snowing, I forced myself to go outside. I only walked a few laps, but somewhere around the third one I stopped to admire the color of the sky and the beauty of the snowflakes falling around me, and I took the deepest breath I’d taken in months. It was good.