What's Happening to Absolute Write?

Absolute Write is in trouble. I see no reason I can’t share what’s going on with Absolute Write’s forums; nobody swore me to secrecy. Settle in. This will be long. Right now:

There is no site administrator.

The software that runs Absolute Write is years out of date, lacking updates and patches. This impacts security.

No new members have been approved since September 2, 2025.

No one replies to anyone who uses Contact Us to address concerns.

No one issues the Erotica password to adults on request.

No one supervises the moderators.

There is no record of members’ donations or how that money has been spent.

MacAllister is not acting to transfer ownership.

Although the site continues to operate, with glitches no one can address, it’s become more social, an echo chamber for the regulars and a favorite spot for word games rather than a writing site.

What the hell happened?

MacAllister, the present owner, took over in 2006, site administrator AW Admin handling its day-to-day operation. The site grew and thrived. The Bewares, Recommendations, and Background Checks board amassed member contributions, becoming one of the largest collections of information about publishers and agents available online—where those under discussion were invited to participate. AW was instrumental in warning writers about Publish America and poetry.com and continues to advise against writer-unfriendly ventures. 

Starting in December 2019, Absolute Write was subject to DDoS attacks intent on bringing the site down. Despite additional software and behind-the-scenes bot blocking, the entire site went dark in January 2021. It reopened in June of that year on a new server with new software, everything handled by AW Admin, who remained an unpaid volunteer putting in full-time-job hours and efforts.

AW Admin retired July 1, 2022. The owner MacAllister was newly responsible for all that needed doing. She did not tap a new administrator.

MacAllister's other responsibilities didn’t allow her the time to teach herself any admin functions. Still, she opted not to delegate any authority. For literal years, the only thing she did was approve new members in batches using automated screening. Other than that, she was just gone, fully no contact. 

While Absolute Write appeared to have minimally sufficient staff, the number of moderators who were actively moderating was small. Most boards had no moderator. Spam was handled quickly, but other issues reported by members went unaddressed for days, the few active moderators overburdened or unwilling to act.

Mods sought relief from Mac, volunteered to cover boards without a moderator, suggested names for new mods, emailed her repeatedly, but MacAllister was not responsive. 

MacAllister’s approval of member registrations fell behind, from days to weeks to a month or more. New members were minimally vetted, allowing many who immediately spammed us or created problems. 

Unimportant and I talked backchannel with increasing outrage until I kind of bullied Mac into giving her sign-in information to Unimportant so she could pretend to be Mac and catch up on long-overdue admin tasks. She did not get full access, because Mac didn't know how to give it, having lost the accounts and passwords AW Admin provided.

Mac hasn't been back since that day, March 17, 2025.

What Unimportant found was pretty bad. Software updates and patches available but not paid for or installed going back three years, including things that might stop various hackers. People who registered using the names of real agents who were not them. Donations that did not appear to have been spent on the site. 

She taught herself administration, then between us, she and I discussed and cleaned up everything we could. We begged Mac to upgrade the software, to appoint new mods, to act, but while she would occasionally promise she'd get to it no later than a certain date, she didn't. So with the mod staff, we chose new mods and got them on board, retired the absent mods, and carried on as well as we could.

Frustrations grew. Without the necessary updates and patches, we had people Oopsing all over the place as Guest accounts overwhelmed the server. We offered to fund raise to pay for it. Mac was unresponsive. We gave her a generous deadline by which to get the updates. And when she didn't, we told other mods what was going on.

That was last August. In early September, 2025 more than half the mods quit, some leaving the site altogether.

Is this the end of Absolute Write?

Right now, it looks like it could continue as it is unless and until something takes it down. There is no one able to block malicious use. 

If that happens, there is no recovery option. It will simply be gone. 

That said, in its present form it's barely a writing site at all, so maybe that wouldn't be so terrible.

Is there any way to save Absolute Write? 

Of course. All it needs is a new owner who pays for the server and software. After that, they either do the necessary tasks or delegate them to qualified individuals. 

I asked around, privately, seeking someone, and mostly got "Gee, I'd like to, but..." replies.

Except for one. We have a volunteer owner, fully at ease with the technical aspects and somewhat leery of the people management part.

Mac agreed to transfer ownership in February 2026. This is great! But the new owner cannot contact the server, the software provider, the website host, etc. telling them to transfer it all to them. Mac needs to do that--and she is not. The new owner pokes at her via email, but she fails to act.

Unless she does, nothing will change. 

Wisconsin, the Cranberry Capital

Never mind Ocean Spray's ad campaign. The state of Wisconsin produces the most cranberries, more than sixty percent of those grown in the US. Fresh cranberries have just appeared in stores here and will soon arrive where you are, if they haven't already. So you need to know about Cranberry Pie.

It's not a pie, that's first. About the only thing pie-like is that it's baked in a nine-inch pie plate. It's more like a quick bread, except not as sweet. It's also easier than many quick breads. 

Cranberry Pie

Cooking spray
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
¼ tsp. salt
2 cups fresh cranberries
½ cup chopped walnuts (or pecans)
½ cup butter, melted (1 stick)
2 eggs, beaten
1 tsp. almond extract

Directions

Preheat oven to 350°F/175C. Coat a 9-inch pie pan with cooking spray.

In a large bowl, mix together the flour, sugar and salt. Stir in the cranberries and walnuts until coated. Stir in the butter, eggs and almond extract. Spread the batter into the pie pan.

Bake for 40-50 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Serve warm.

NOTE: A 12-ounce bag of cranberries is about three cups. You can make two of these pies at a time, dividing the three cups of cranberries between the two. 

 

 

Protesting? Know Your Rights

 Many organizations have taken the time to post about the rights of protesters. I’ve written about protest safety, so let’s review how not to get yourself into legal trouble.

You have the right to protest on public property, but you do not have the right to prevent its use for its normal purposes. That means you can’t block streets, sidewalks, parks, the plaza outside a government building, crosswalks, parking spaces, etc.

The use of streets or parks for protest may require a permit depending on local ordinances. Sidewalk protests do not, so long as the sidewalk remains fully passable by pedestrians.

Private property is private. You do not have the right to enter, photograph, or speak in protest on private property. Avoid it altogether.

When you are not breaking any laws by protesting in a public place, you have the right to photograph or record video of anything that’s in plain sight, including government buildings, law enforcement personnel and their vehicles, and counterprotesters. You are required to keep a safe distance from what you are photographing, so as not to interfere with law enforcement officers.

You have the right to carry signs and hand out flyers. Local law may dictate that signs cannot be mounted on anything rigid.

If law enforcement issues an order to disperse, they are required to allow reasonable time and available passageway for that to happen. Obey the order—and know it’s usually a last resort.

You have—and should use—the right to disable facial recognition and fingerprint unlocking on your phone or other device. You are not required to consent to it being searched or to provide a device’s password. Police do not have the right to delete photographs or video. They cannot demand to see them unless they have a warrant. Be aware that in some places, audio recording is not as well protected.

You do not need to consent to a police search of yourself or your belongings.

If you are stopped for recording images or are arrested, do not argue or resist. Keep your hands visible. Ask if you are free to go, and if you are, walk away calmly. If not, ask what you are being charged with and immediately ask to speak to your attorney. Do not explain your actions or sign anything. Write the phone number of your attorney, or someone who will get you an attorney, on your arm with a Sharpie, so it can’t be taken from you.

Won't You Let Me Take You on a Sea Cruise

 Knowing what to expect on a cruise helps make the most of it.

You absolutely have to show up for the muster drill, mandatory safety briefings that every passenger must attend before the ship can sail. Yes, they take attendance.

When you board your ship, you’ll be separated from your luggage, and your cabin may not yet be ready. Carry a backpack or zippered tote with documents, medications, a change of clothes, and any grooming necessities when you board, rather than packing them. If you need your pill or to remove your contacts, you’ll be glad you did. Also recommended: sunscreen, a hat, swimwear.

The last night of your cruise, you are expected to set out your luggage late in the evening. You will need to carry off whatever you’ve kept in the cabin for use overnight and in the morning—yet another use for that backpack.

Bring drugstore items you might need. Anything you buy onboard costs four to ten times what it does at home, and they don’t carry everything.

You cannot hang your wet swimsuit on your balcony or spread it on balcony furniture. There’s almost no hanging room in your cabin or its bathroom, both most likely small and cramped. A short length of clothesline and a few clothespins can let your wet things dry in the room while you sleep.

The walls are metal and magnets, especially strong ones with hooks, will serve you well.

Post-Its, a manila folder or large envelope, a highlighter, and a pen make it easy to remind yourself and one another about what’s going on each day.

There are few electrical outlets, including the bathroom. Bring a multi-outlet power strip--without the forbidden surge protector. Ones with USB ports are especially handy.

The internet on board is often slow or weak. People glued to their devices may well come unstuck. Cell phone connectivity occurs only near shore and must tap into the internet while at sea.

The pool is busy, and people reserve the chaise lounges with their possessions for hours at a time, even if they go elsewhere.

The art sales are extremely overpriced. They can be entertaining if you don’t buy anything.

Excursions sold by the cruise are safe, and if they are delayed, the ship waits for you. Excursions you find on shore are cheaper. They may not be vetted for safety and lateness can cause you to miss your sailing.

The time onboard your ship may not match the time at your ports of call, including what shows on your phone. Wear a watch set to ship time.

The public areas are nicely appointed and far more comfortable than your cabin—but they’re noisy. It may be difficult to read, even in the library. Consider sound-deadening earplugs or earbuds with music that masks conversation.

Your cabin has a TV, but little is broadcast and there’s a lot of repetition. Don’t rely on it for entertainment or news. Consider downloading TV and movies to your devices.

The ship supplies liquid soap, shampoo, possibly some lotion, and little else. Bring your own toiletries if this seems inadequate.

Things not to do on a cruise: Argue, or have noisy sex. (The walls are thin.) Have an open flame for a candle, incense, etc. Smoke outside the designated area. Smoke or use illegal substances. Go naked in your room or on its balcony. (Stewards enter if no one answer their knock.)

All Around the World

 I try not to brag, to acknowledge my good fortune, and to remember many deserving people have not been so lucky. So I didn’t talk up a recent winter getaway to a warm weather paradise, which had such fine, fine people-watching that I have to share some observations.

From the way people were dressed and groomed, I guessed a good ninety percent would be considered quite well-to-do if not wealthy. The resort’s guests were overwhelmingly white, at least a third over sixty. They were couples and families, including a few extended families, but no visible friends, siblings, or colleagues vacationing there.

Here’s some of what I saw.

Money does not make you a good parent. I was shocked at the number of people unable to control their kids while they did things that were obnoxious (throwing sand at each other and whoever was in range, tossing a football way too near other people, dumping sand on the towels of strangers who were currently in the water, tantrums when they didn’t get what they wanted immediately) or unsafe (playing unsupervised in the surf, climbing on rocks surrounding a koi pool, teasing the parrots). Parents issued orders, but kids who did not obey faced zero consequences, not even a five-minute time-out in their chair. Do they have nannies or other child care at home? I hope so.

Fabulous, flattering, and inventive swimwear is easy when you’re slender and increasingly difficult as you size up. Larger women I saw nicely dressed at breakfast, during cocktails, or dinner restaurants wore swimsuits that looked awful, didn’t fit, failed to support—and at least two exposed body parts that should be fully private. Clearly finding a decent suit goes beyond being able to afford it.

On the flipside, though, I saw big women in bold choices, imperfect parts fully exposed without shame. Bellies with surgical scars that left them misshapen. Lumpy butts tanned in thong swimsuit bottoms. Two-piece suits not attempting to hide sags and folds of excess woman and/or excess years. There’s a lesson: Want to have a beach body? Get yourself a swimsuit that fits and take your body to a beach. There, you’ve done it!

The Cops Don't Need You, and They Expect...

Today I offended someone I genuinely like, enough that she left the website where I know her and may not return. I fear I presented the last straw.

What I did, on a board not intended for sociopolitical rants, was rant against law enforcement. I should not have done it there—it’s a board for a particular writing genre—but I’d just learned it happened again, to someone I know in real life, and my anger clouded my usual judgment. Which does not excuse my post.

I have apologized publicly and privately, but there’s no indication she saw either. Sigh...



I first learned this was A Thing when I was twenty-one.

A little backstory: I’d skipped a grade in elementary school, moving from an excellent school district to one that wasn’t nearly so challenging. When driver’s education classes were offered my junior year, I wasn’t old enough to do the behind-the-wheel portion of the class. I took the classroom-only part in summer school. My senior year, things went wildly off-kilter when my father became seriously ill, and whether I learned to drive was not terribly important.

Mom chauffeured me to my summer job, and I didn’t need to drive in college, where I rarely left the immediate area. My roommate and her boyfriend taught me to drive after graduation, when I needed to get a real job that wasn’t likely to be near home.

So I was newly licensed, driving home from my relatively new job in a very old car, when the police car behind me put on its red flashing light. I pulled over. I lifted my purse from the floor and put it on the bench seat next to me, knowing he’d want to see my license.

The officer was probably around thirty-five, which seemed old to me, although he was reasonably good looking if you liked the clean-cut type. I didn’t.

I rolled down my window. “Did I do something wrong?” I was sure I’d signaled my left turn.

“You went through the intersection with your turn signal on.”

“I was going to turn. That’s my driveway.” I pointed. “You’re supposed to signal a hundred feet before you turn. There’s nothing about ‘except if there’s an intersection.’”

He smirked. “I don’t want to write you up. Moving violation tickets are expensive. You ever been ticketed?” He removed the pen from a small metal clipboard with self-carboning forms in pink, yellow, and blue.

“No, sir.”

“So you’re a virgin, and I get to be your first.”

“I hope not. Cars behind me have come too close to rear-ending me when I slow for my driveway. I always signal.”

“Right through the intersection. Maybe we could find a way out of this other than a moving violation ticket.”

“I really don’t think it’s against the law.”

“That’s for the judge to decide. What size bra do you wear?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t think—”

He bent to reach through the window, his free hand grasping for my breasts. I reared away, and his fingertips barely brushed my blouse. “Come on, they’re nice. You be nice, too. You don’t want a ticket.”

“No, but…”

“That’s your driveway right there? You live alone?”

“Roommates. They’re home. Charlotte and Keith.” They were probably at work; I usually got home first.

“You have your own room?”

I did, but I didn’t want to say so. His erection pressed at the fly of his uniform, aligned with my open window when he stood straight, and he made no attempt to hide it.

“Because we could make this go away in about ten minutes, right in your room. You show me your titties, give me a little loving with that smart mouth that recites the turn signal law, and we call it a day. Tell me yes.”

I was speechless. ‘Yes’ was not on the table.

“Come on, I don’t want to write you up. What I want is to see those titties, then you show me some oral respect.”

A car nearly as old as mine pulled off the road in front of us, backed up to close the gap, and parked. My roommate Keith, who would marry Charlotte and move out the following year, recognized my car and stopped. He was beefy, with long hair, and was probably the most good-natured person I knew. Everybody liked Keith, whose round face wore a permanent smile.

He got out and sauntered up to the cop. He wasn’t smiling. “What seems to be the problem, officer?”

“Step away from the car,” the cop said.

Keith must have seen the distress on my face, because he did not back down. “I don’t think so. You want me to stay, Maryn, or go inside and call Mom’s lawyer? He’ll pick up until six.”

“Stay,” I said.

The cop closed his citation notebook and poked the pen back in its holder. “I’ll let you off with a warning,” he said and stomped back to his patrol car.

He’d never looked at my license.

After I’d told Keith, Charlotte, and some friends at work what happened, everyone seemed to agree I should have gotten his name, found witnesses, called the newspaper, the mayor, the investigative TV reporter who was more about pretty than journalism. But how could I prove it? Even Keith hadn’t seen anything untoward.

Two days later, I’d hand washed my lingerie after dinner and hung it on the clothesline next to the parking for our triplex. In the morning I was running behind and I left them for the day so I wouldn’t be late for work. When I got home, the bras were gone.

It was him, had to be. I’d lived there for three years by then, and no one ever bothered my laundry or Charlotte’s, including lingerie, no matter how long we left it hanging on the line.

I took a different route home from work after that, but sometimes I’d see a patrol car parked on our quiet street for a half hour or so, which I’d never noticed before. Was it him? I didn’t know. It made me supremely uneasy, and when it was there, I tried not to leave the house in case it was him and he followed me.



Years later, married and in another city, I went to a bridal shower that got fairly wild as these things go. The mothers of the bride and groom had left, along with others of their generation, leaving the remaining young women to drink to excess, talk loud over the music, and later enjoy a pair of male strippers, one of whom had sex with the maid of honor.

Which is beside the point. The point is, alcohol erased any reservations among friends of friends we didn’t know well or had met only hours earlier. I learned that Camilla,the bride’s best friend, had a cop pull her over for leaving her lane. She felt sober after one drink, but she’d had a previous arrest for DWI. After the police officer had that information, he said he could arrest her or she could give him a blow job. She chose the blow job and considered it a good deal.

Another woman I’d only met that night heard the end of the story, clarified what she’d understood, and said it happened to her sister Penny, only she’d been scared rather than pragmatic, begging the cop to let her go with a warning. He wouldn’t. She’d been laid off over a month ago and couldn’t afford to pay a fine, so she did it. He’d been older, at least fifty, and fat, and it turned her away from oral completely. Her boyfriend broke up with her when she would no longer do what she’d done before so often.



Fast forward to many years passing, to yet another city. A young woman whose wedding I’d attended two years earlier was speeding on a stretch of road where literally every vehicle goes over the limit by twenty miles an hour except when it was icy.

Margaret and her husband were having both financial and marital troubles; unknown to her, Travis’s hours had been cut to part time before he was fired for drinking on the job. Instead of telling her about either one, he’d continued to leave the house in his business clothes and spent his days drinking, using the money in the bank account where they were saving for the down payment on a house, until it was gone. He stole cash from her purse and sold things in their apartment, including wedding gifts. Finally he’d had a health crisis that landed him in the ICU, directly related to long term alcoholism, and of course he had no health insurance because he had no job and had hidden it from his wife.

A faithful wife, Margaret told her boss she needed to be at the hospital. He agreed she could take as much unpaid leave as she needed and he would hold her position for her. Margaret didn’t know where next month’s rent and car payment were going to come from, and the hospital bill had already reached five figures. Recently she’d returned to a part-time night job she’d had in college, working at a twenty-four hour grocery store. She was on her way there when the cop pulled her over.

The police officer didn’t stop any other cars speeding, only Margaret’s. He directed her to pull over in the parking lot of a defunct business, where he told her she was getting a ticket for speeding, that he’d clocked her doing fifty-two in a thirty-five zone, and could she afford a ticket?

Already crying, she said she couldn’t. He proposed another solution. She cried all the way through it and could not read his name tag through her tears, but she gave him the blow job.



And this is why I needed to rant about police, about the way the job seems to draw a certain kind of man who feels it’s his right to force women to give him head or take an unjustified ticket, or to use needless force against black men, trans women, and the mentally ill because he can. All the while, the good officers who make up the majority know about the monsters in their ranks yet cannot do what it takes to rid law enforcement of the bad ones, because they’re powerless against the system and the union that protects them all, monsters and saints alike.

The Lady Doth Protest

 As someone who's older, wise, and far less afraid of what it will do to my family if I should be arrested for doing the right thing, I'm more inclined to join protests than ever before. Being me, I researched how do to it right, and safely. This information is cobbled together from many sources.

Attending Protests

The DON’Ts

Cell Phones: Don’t even bring it. Regardless of how you turn it off, turn off location service, use airplane mode, deactivate facial or fingerprint recognition, change passwords, etc., the police or other law enforcement agencies may be able to use your phone to prove you were there and/or remained after being told to disperse. It’s not uncommon for phones temporarily confiscated to be damaged. If you can afford it and must remain in contact with someone, consider a burner phone.

Social Media: Don’t use any social media platform to plan, respond to the plans of others, or otherwise make public your attendance at a protest, before or after it occurs.

Contact Lenses: Don’t wear them. They can literally melt to the eye when police use pepper spray or tear gas. (There seems to be some disagreement on which is more harmful to contact lens wearers, but the bottom line remains the same: don’t wear them.)

Makeup: Don’t wear it, especially eye makeup, which traps tear gas or pepper spray right by the eyes. This includes facial moisturizer, which can mix with pepper spray and help it cling to skin.

Jewelry: It can identify you in photos, be lost or broken, or disappear in police custody. Remove all of it, including piercings (if possible) and wedding rings.

Valuables: Leave them where they are safe, including credit cards and most of your cash.

Knives, Drugs, Weapons, or anything else you don’t want in your possession if you are arrested.

Long Hair Worn Loose (or grab-able, like a braid, topknot, bun, or pony tail). Restrain your long hair flat against your head with low-profile barrettes.

Purse: This means of carrying what you may want or need is the least convenient and the most easy to take from you. Replace with a small backpack or a fanny pack.

Signs on Sticks: Some protest organizers report that a sign’s stick can be used to harm the person carrying it or others. It’s also the best way for your sign to be seen in a crowd. Decide carefully and adhere to any guidelines set by organizers.

COVID Precautions

Even if you are vaccinated and boosted, a close crowd raises the chance of infection transmission.

Wear a face mask at all times, over your nose and mouth. If you have them, bring spares for others.

Carry hand sanitizer and use it often.

If you feel unwell or live with people at high risk for COVID complications, don’t attend.

Basics to Bring, in a small backpack or a fanny pack

COVID mask, not readily identifiable

Hand sanitizer

Water

Portable snacks like protein bars, fruit, crackers

First aid items: bandaids, antibacterial wipes, gauze pads and tape, menstrual pads, tampons

Cash and change, but not a large amount

Your ID, stored securely--in your sock or shoe, a zipped pocket, etc., not in a backpack

Earplugs to protect against police use of stun grenades to disperse crowds, although construction-grade earmuffs are better—but bulky

Protective shattterproof goggles for tear gas or pepper spray. If you wear glasses, goggles must fit over them. Together a non-unique COVID mask and goggles makes facial recognition technology difficult or impossible to use against protesters

Necessary medications in their original Rx container

Emergency phone numbers, written in permanent marker on your arm:

• One or two family members or friends to contact if you are arrested, injured, or stranded
• An attorney
• Any hotline offering legal support to protesters

A buddy. It’s important to have someone who will be looking out for you, and you for them.

Maybe:

• Print map of the protest area, on a single sheet of paper
• Eye wipes for tear gas or pepper spray relief
• Gas mask
• Heat-proof gloves to allow the return of grenades, which are hot

What to Wear

You want to be comfortable, able to move freely, and blend in with the crowd. Don’t wear anything that allows you to stand out or be easily identifiable. Some recommendations are to wear all black or gray. Your wardrobe:

Dark pants, fully comfortable, ideally with useable pockets. No shorts; you want as little skin as possible exposed to tear gas or pepper spray.

Dark long-sleeved shirt with no brand or logo. If you have tattoos, make sure the shirt covers them. Consider medical tape over any tattoos or scars not covered by clothing.

Dark hoodie or jacket as weather dictates, with secure pockets, no logo.

Shoes comfortable for standing and walking for long periods. Toe protection from work boots or hiking boots is a plus. Consider a thin sock under your regular socks to minimize friction if you’re not used to walking distance in these shoes.

A plain hat, no logo or pattern, to protect you from sun or other weather, and to cover your hair, making you harder to identify.

Safety

Before you leave for a protest, you and your buddy need a plan to establish:

• What time will we arrive, and when do we need to leave home?
• How will we get there? If we drive, where will we park? It should be well away from the event. Ideally, you walk or bicycle there, since license plate readers help cops know what car was where and when.
• What time will we leave? When should we arrive home?
• What events or situations would cause us to leave early?
• How will we change our plan if there’s a change in situation?
• Do we agree that if one leaves, both leave, even if we disagree?
• If we are separated, where will we meet?
• If the situation seems dangerous, how will we leave? Know local streets.

Share this plan with your written-on-your-arm contact before you go. If needed, they can send you help or look for you.

During the protest, practice awareness of what’s around you. Red flags include:

• Do there seem to be people who are not prepared and came last minute? Are they talkative with strangers? They may be from “the other side,” there to incite violence, identify protesters, etc. Or they may be plainclothes police officers.
• Is the protest skewing toward destrictuon of property or violence against people? That’s a sign to leave immediately.
• Is anyone protesting also carrying a gun or other weapon? Leave immediately.
• Do many protesters seem drunk or under the influence of drugs? Such individuals may show poor judgment if confronted by police, and you don’t want to be close.
• Does your intuition or gut feeling say something’s not right? Time to leave.

If the police use physical means to disperse crowds:

• If you can, learn what means the police department has available.
• Leave the area when it begins.
• Keep away from police horses and dogs, both trained to be aggressive and able to injure you.
• Consider padded protection or civilian-grade Kevlar vests. Rubber bullets can cause injury, including breaking bones. Shatterproof goggles will help but cannot necessarily stop a rubber bullet.
• Consider putting on a helmet if they’re firing rubber bullets.
• If police are using pepper spray or tear gas, put on a gas mask. Move upwind if possible. Do not touch eyes, nose, or mouth. Change your face mask if it seems contaminated.
• Be ready to help the injured. Carry extra first aid supplies, especially water to wash eyes. Some people say Johnson’s Baby Wash helps clean eyes.
• Stay calm. People panicked into running can injure others.
• Keep an eye on anyone nearby who’s elderly, disabled, or may require assistance to be safe.

If you are arrested:

• Stay calm. Do not resist arrest. Ask on what charges you are being arrested. Memorize the name of the arresting officer.
• If you can, tell witnesses your name before the police take you away.
• Control your words and body. Tell the police your name and show ID if asked. If you are injured, demand medical attention. Tell the police you are exercising your right to remain silent, and that you want to speak to an attorney. Say nothing more.

After the protest:

• Know more than one route home or back to your bicycle or vehicle.
• Be aware police may block roads or stop public transportation near the protest site.
• Once you’re home, let your emergency contacts know you are safe.
• If police used tear gas or pepper spray, wipe off anything that cannot be washed: leather shoes, goggles, and glasses. Launder all clothing and wash or wipe down backpack. Take a shower and wash your hair.

Brimstone Bread

 

 

 

This is a slight modification of recipes widely available online. I did not create the recipe.

BRIMSTONE BREAD
Takes 5-6 Hours

For the Red Bread

2 1/4 cups warm water (105-115° F/40-46° C)
1 tablespoon active dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
2 one-ounce bottles of red food coloring
2 tablespoons vegetable or canola oil
5 cups flour, ideally bread flour
1 tablespoon salt
Optional: another one-ounce bottle of red food coloring
Recommended: disposable food preparation gloves, metal utensils, parchment paper

Pour warm water into a large bowl. Add yeast and sugar. Mix thoroughly and set aside for five to ten minutes, until the mixture creates bubbles that form a layer of foam.

Take care opening and pouring food coloring, which stains, into the foam mixture. Add oil and stir to evenly distribute food coloring. Add flour and salt gradually, stirring to mix. You should have a red or deep red dough. If it’s lighter, work more food coloring into the mixture.

When it’s fully blended, the dough should come together in a single clump. It should be somewhat stretchy and not very sticky. Either in the bowl or on a protected work surface (a clean cookie sheet will keep counters from staining) lightly dusted with flour, put on your food preparation gloves then knead the dough for three minutes until it is smooth and uniformly soft.

Shape the dough into a ball. Lightly flour the inside of your bowl (no need to wash it in between) and put the dough in the bowl. Cover with a dish towel (which can stain if it touches the dough) and let the dough rest for ten minutes.

After the ten minutes has passed, turn the dough out and knead for another two to three minutes, then form a ball, return to bowl, cover it, and let it rest for ten minutes. Do this a total of five times.

When the dough has rested for the fifth and final ten minutes, divide it into twelve balls the same size. Cover two cookie sheets with parchment paper. Put the balls on the cookie sheets, where the dough will rise, separating them as far as possible.

If you have a warm spot in the kitchen, allow the dough to rise there. If you do not have a warm spot, turn on your oven and put your hand inside it. When you detect heat, turn the oven off and put the cookie sheets in the oven to allow the dough to rise there.

Caution: If the rising dough balls join with others, separating them will release the trapped air bubbles causing the rising. You’ll need to start over with the rising. Covering the dough with plastic wrap (a common bread-baking practice) can result in the two sticking, and releasing it also undoes the rising.

Leave the dough undisturbed for three to four hours. It will approximately double in size.

Wash your bowl and utensils for reuse. Near the end of the rising, prepare the topping.

For the Brimstone Topping

1 cup warm water (105-115° F/40-46° C)
2 tablespoons active dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
1 one-ounce bottle of black food coloring
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups rice flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
Optional: additional red food coloring

Pour warm water into a large bowl. Add yeast and sugar. Mix thoroughly and set aside for five to ten minutes, until the mixture creates bubbles that form a layer of foam.

Take care opening and pouring food coloring, which stains, into the foam mixture. Add oil and stir to evenly distribute food coloring. It should be intensely black. At this point you can add more red food coloring to darken the mixture.

Add rice flour and salt gradually, stirring to mix. You should have a fully black dough which is somewhat gritty, fairly sticky, thick while being liquid enough to ooze from your spoon. Cover with a dish towel (which can stain if it touches the dough) and let the dough rest for fifteen minutes.

Put on your food preparation gloves and take a handful of the black topping. Smear and pat it over the top and sides of your risen red dough balls. Repeat until they’re all covered. Use all of the black topping, adding more to ensure the coating is not thin on any of them.

Pre-heat the oven to 450° F/230° C.

Let the coated dough balls stand, uncovered, for fifteen minutes to allow the topping to fully stick to the red dough.

After the fifteen minutes, bake your Brimstone Bread on the center rack of the oven for 15 to 20minutes. If it won’t hold two cookie sheets, bake one, then the other.

Because rice flour is not as elastic as bread flour, the black topping will become crisp and will crack as the bread bakes.

Cool on cookie sheets until you can easily touch the bread. Finish cooling on wire racks, or eat warm. These make excellent sandwich or hamburger buns and are tasty warm with butter.

An Uplifting Message

Before COVID, I went on a cruise that appealed mainly to adults over 50. Based on observation, I’d venture a guess that at least half the passengers were over 60, and if you don’t think that makes a difference, you’re either young or need new corrective lenses.

What I noticed about the women was interesting in many ways. This self-selected group of older adults with money for a cruise included some who were able and willing to dress in a way that flatters whatever kind of body they had—but it also included quite a few of the ones who have given up and tuck their printed knit tops into their elastic-waist pants.

But both groups often sported the worst bras you can imagine. It seemed especially likely if they were overweight by as little as one dress size.

There is no reason for a woman who can pay for a stateroom with a balcony for a seven-day cruise to make do with a bra from Penney’s or Kohl’s that feels okay and supports her in a fashion that is decidedly not okay. Whether your small breasts have become droopy or you’re large and sagging, the mass of your breast should be lifted away from the body, not folded over on it, and aligned somewhere near the vertical middle of your rib cage. But on this cruise, it seemed breasts nearing the waist was the norm.

I’ve always been somewhat busty and once I got kind of fat, finding a bra that actually fit seemed impossible. Only in recent years have I determined that not only can a woman whose lingerie drawers include 42DDDs (several styles of Wacoal, the best I could do at the time) can indeed find bras that actually fit and support, but bras that are fully comfortable.

You just can’t do it at a the local department store, including when they have a “fitting event.” The fitter they’ve hired for a few days can’t fit you in the bras department stores carry.

Get thee to a dedicated lingerie store with a trained fitter. In another city if that’s what it takes.

Yes, if you’re large, that bra is going to have an underwire. It does not add any discomfort at all. If it does feel uncomfortable, that means the bra does not fit. Don’t let any sales person tell you differently.

Yes, even if you’re obese there are bras that will hold up the goods more than adequately, without making massive dents in your shoulders because the straps are holding most of the weight.

Yes, there’s a bra out there—more likely, several bras—that will touch your sternum like they did when you were fourteen and wore a B cup. No more dropping fish crackers and finding a small school of them when you get ready for bed, as I have. Seriously, I once found three grapes in that gap. Three!

Yes, there’s a bra for you whose straps stay up. All the time, no matter how you twist and turn. Yet they don’t dig into your shoulders. Miracles can happen, ladies.

Yes, there are bras for chubby and big women, pretty ones in prints and in great colors, with lace and bows, matching panties available—and no, they don’t have four hooks up the back, much less six like the last bra I bought at Macy’s, using a professional fitter who probably did the best she could with their stock.

Yes, you’ll pay plenty for a good bra, from at least $50 to a typical $75, and it’s possible to spend lots more. If you hand-wash and line-dry it, you’ll get years of wear. I machine-wash mine in a lingerie bag, because I’m a special kind of lazy, and I still get at least two or three years from a good bra.

Yes, a quality bra takes engineering of a particular type, but there are many manufacturers who’ve got it down and want to sell you a bra that looks great on you, feels fine, and makes you look great.

What, there’s no quality lingerie store where you live? That’s increasingly common. The internet is at your service. Look for websites selling Elomi (my go-to brand), Fantasie, Freya, Goddess, and more. Seek one with free returns if you do an exchange for another size, or just consider that part of the cost of getting a terrific bra. Seek sites with a human able to chat live-time about fit, increasing the odds of getting the right fit first try.

A properly-fitting Elomi bra with side support (the Cate is one of many I like) literally lifts your breasts four inches higher than anything Kohl’s, Penney’s, Dillard’s, or Macy’s sells, and is more comfortable.

I swear, it’s worth it.

Baked Caramel Corn

 

Since this is not a cooking blog monetized by how much text I make a reader scroll through to get to the damned recipe, I'll just announce that this is an excellent recipe, written simply enough for middle-school cooks and I-don't-really-cook adults to succeed. Enjoy.


MARYN'S BAKED CARAMEL CORN

5 quarts popped popcorn*
1 c. whole almonds or pecans, unsalted, optional   
1 cup (2 sticks) butter or margarine   
2 cups firmly packed brown sugar   
1/2 cup light or dark corn syrup   
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon vanilla

Yield: About 5-7 quarts caramel corn, Prep time: 90 minutes or so

Note: Requires very large bowl or pot for mixing. Can NOT be mixed in one bowl/pot used twice.

Pop the popcorn. Spray 2 or 3 large cookie sheets heavily with a nonstick spray product (even if you cover with foil or a silicon mat, spray the foil or mat) and spray a large container in which you will stir the popcorn (and nuts). Preheat the oven to 250 degrees (low heat). Mix the popcorn (and nuts) in your large container.

In a 2.5- or 3-quart saucepan, melt butter over low heat. Stir in brown sugar, corn syrup and salt. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. (This takes 7-20 minutes depending on the pan used and on the stove itself.) Boil without stirring 5 minutes. (This takes 5 minutes, silly.) Remove from heat; stir in soda and vanilla. The mixture will swell up and bubble considerably,which is why you need the large pot. Stir until this reaction seems to have stopped, about a minute.

Pour caramel mixture over popped corn (and nuts), mixing as well as you can. It will be impossible to coat every kernel. Work somewhat quickly, because once it starts to cool, the caramel won’t spread well or leave the pan voluntarily. It helps if you do this over a clean counter so any popcorn bits that are pushed out of the pan or bowl can be returned—but be careful, the caramel is hot enough to burn fingertips.

Turn onto the baking pans, flattening and separating clumps as much as you can. Bake at 250 degrees for 10 minutes five times.

Huh? Remove both sheets from the oven after ten minutes of oven time. Stir and rearrange caramel coating, which will be semi-liquid, to cover as much popcorn as you can, then return to the oven for the next 10 minutes of baking, for a total of five sessions of 10-minutes-of-baking. (This takes more than an hour, usually.) Alternate which of the two cookie sheets is on top and rotate them end-for-end for more even cooking.

Note: Do not block airflow in the oven by filling it side-to-side with cookie sheets. (This will make the sugar burn, and the whole batch taste of char.) If you can't fit two in without blocking it, do them one at a time until one tray is finished, then start on the second tray. It's okay if it stands and its caramel hardens before you begin.

Remove finished caramel corn from oven and cool completely on wire racks over waxed paper or foil (to catch what falls through). Break apart. Store in tins. Ha, as if it wouldn’t all be eaten immediately. In reality: Pick warm caramel corn off the foil with fingers. If you have metal fillings, check carefully for clinging shreds of foil and remove before eating.

* Measure how much popped popcorn you have using the 2.5 or 3 quart saucepan you’ll make the caramel in. Estimating it is fine. Less popcorn equals more kernels fully coated. We generally pop a cup of kernels, measure what we need using the saucepan, and much on the remaining cup and a half or so.

Or go with approximate values:
1/2 c. kernels = 12 c. popped, or 2 Tbsp. kernels = 1 quart popped

On Vertigo

 Because of the vertigo I had earlier, we re-watched Hitchcock's Vertigo last night. Of the entire cast, only Kim Novak is still alive.

I wish I could say it held up, but it did not. The sexism was really bad, for one thing. The age gap--James Stewart was 49, Kim Novak 24--bothered me and apparently wasn't well received in the 1950s, either. She's stunning, but what does she see in him? He's not rich, powerful, handsome, fun, or especially sweet. Zero chemistry on screen. At least the husband she's cheating on, also older, is filthy rich.

Whatever does Barbara Bel Geddes, the unrequited love interest, see in him? And puh-lease, don't tell me they went to college together when he looks his actual age and so does she, fourteen years younger. Stewart is a lean, lined almost-fifty and she's a girlish thirty-five.

The older man's assumption that a woman should be willing to change her appearance completely because he wants her to? Hell, no. When he tells her to bleach her hair platinum blonde and change the style, she doesn't want to and his reply is, "Judy, please it can't matter to you..." Dude, it's her head. How about you shave your head. It can't matter to you.

And since she was paid to turn herself into the same person in the past to commit fraud, why the hell does she forget how to move, act, and be more like the person she's imitating on his command--a role she played previously to perfection?

There's much more not to like. Two people swearing love when they haven't had an actual conversation? Nope.

His taking a half-drowned semiconscious woman to his apartment, where he strips her naked and puts her to bed, instead of to a hospital... Ugh. Creepster, especially when you add the age difference. It's not TLC, it's predatory.

And--spoilers okay on a movie from 1958?--why the hell didn't the nuns lock the tower door after the first death from a fall? And why would Judy be so scared of a nun's arrival that she backed away and "died again"?

And finally, Acrophobia would not be as good a movie title, even though that's what Stewart's character has.

Foam Alone

When we were new to this house, I got my first-ever new chair that was just for me. The plan was I'd use it in my sewing room/study. Which I did, for a while. It looked good with the carpet color, which we would not be changing. It fit my body and supported my back. It rocked. It rotated. It was magical!

But we needed more seating where the TV is, and my chair was appropriated. It even looks good in there. I had to make a solid case for getting it back, and I did.

We ordered a leather chair for the family room in June and were quite surprised to learn it would not be ready until March, nine months ahead. We joked about them having to first impregnate a cow, wait for her to calf, let the calf grow chair-sized...

My mom-mobile has long had a little body damage and Mr. Maryn thought it might be time to trade it in, since every time he sees it he gets mad at himself all over again. (Super tight parking garage in Toronto, steel meets concrete column.) Did I like the car enough to get one just like it? 

Well, you can't. There are no new models of this car within hundreds of miles. How about a road trip to where we used to live? Check it out--none there, either. WTF?

The foam shortage is what. It's a big deal to the furniture, mattress, and auto industry. The makers of the chemicals saw a huge reduction in demand at the start of COVID, laid off workers, reduced production to some low percentage, and hoped to hang on.

Little did they consider that being home for long periods of time made people want new furniture and mattresses. Or that working from home and/or home schooling demanded more spacious quarters that needed new everything because the old furniture just didn't work.

Less safety in air travel meant the demand for cars was up, too--cars with upholstered seats. So the foam industry came back hard, trying to make up for lost time, which caused them to make a grave error. Some workers had moved on, and training takes time, so production had not reached pre-pandemic levels.

Usually when hurricanes or other "weather events" are predicted, virtually all heavy industry shuts down well in advance, battens their hatches, sends workers home while it's still safe, and waits it out. Only the chemical companies had such high demand, and the Texas blizzard gave so little warning, that all five plants in the US were running when they lost power. All of them!

Improper shut-down damages equipment. Apparently it's freakishly good luck no person was injured or killed as machinery abruptly stopped. They lost supplies to ice and cold. Lines froze. Some burst.

It's a testament to plant engineers that they recovered as quickly as they did, the industry says. It wasn't all that quick, and orders for foam chemicals backed up even more.

My chair might come in May. Might.

Black Wines Matter

What's a properly self-isolating woman to do to support the Black Lives Matter movement? She can use her computer and her wallet, of course, but she can also put her money where her mouth is by purchasing wine from Black-owned wineries.

Sources: Newsweek June 6, 2020; Wine Enthusiast June 8, 2020; Rose Mansion June 4, 2020

Abbey Creek Wine
Alexis George Wines
Amour Genéve
Aslina Wines
Bodkin Wines
Brown Estate
Charles Wine Company
Charles Woodson Intercept
Corner 103
Darjean Jones Wines
Davidson Wine Co.
Domaine Curry Wine
Domaine Curry:
Dwade Cellars
Earl Stevens Selections
ENAT Winery
Esrever Wines
Eunice Chiweshe Goldstein Winery
FLO Wine 360
Fog Crest Vineyard
Free Range Flower Winery
Frichette Winery
Indigené Cellars
J. Moss Wines
Jenny Dawn Cellars
L' Objet Wines
L’ Objet Noir
L’Tonya Renee Red Blend
La Fête du Rosé
Le Loup Gris
Longevity Wines
Love Cork Screw
Lovelee Wine
LVE Wines
Maison Noir Wines
Markell-Bani Wines
McBride Sisters
Michael Rose Cellars
MYX Fusions
Okapi Wines
Ole’ Orleans Wines
P. Harrell Wines
Sapiens
Shoe Crazy Wine
Simply Love Wines
Sip & Share Wines
Sosabe Wines
Stoney Wines
Stover Oaks Vineyard & Winery
Stuyvesant Champagne
Stuyvesant Champagne
Taste Collection Cellars
Theopolis Vineyards
Tympany Vineyards
Vina Sympatica
Virgo Cellars
Vision Cellars
Wachira Wines
Wade Cellars
Wandering Wines
Wifey Brands
Zafa Wines

Going It Alone: Self Isolation Tips

The Introvert’s Guide to Happy Self-Isolation

I’ve joked online for years that I live like a hermit by choice, but it’s no laughing matter for the extroverts chafing under self-isolation, craving the social contacts they cannot safely enjoy. So here are some tips from a grizzled stay-at-home-all-day-every-day veteran.

TIME MANAGEMENT

Set an Alarm. Get up about the same time every day. You can get more sleep than usual, sleep until a later hour, but get up. Likewise, go to bed about the same time every night. Sufficient sleep is a luxury for lots of working people, but it’ll do you good, both physically and psychologically.

Schedule Activities. Have blocks of time set aside for certain activities each day. Why? Because it’s too easy to refresh social media, check your phone yet again, and otherwise spin your wheels, accomplishing nothing and not enjoying yourself, either. (Which would count as accomplishing something.) Mix up things you do for pleasure and things you do because they need to get done.

Block out Reading Time. Even if you’re not a reader, a well chosen book will transport you from the present world and its problems to someplace else. You do not need to read something challenging, although this is a fine time to do that if you feel like it. Reading strictly for pleasure and entertainment is the goal.

Schedule Food, Too. It’s easy for someone unaccustomed to being home all the time to eat all the time, and stress eating is real. So eat your usual meals, slate yourself some regular snack times, but don’t sit down to any activity and stop every half hour to eat something. When this is all over, you don’t want to emerge with a weight gain.

Pre-Arrange Time with Friends or Family. Maybe you meet for cocktails with your parents via Skype thirty minutes before you need to start dinner, or FaceTime over coffee with a friend mid-morning. “Seeing” someone every day for conversation has the power to normalize the way you’re living. You can pre-arrange to see someone daily, rotating among friends and family members. (Please help low-tech people if you can.)

Differentiate Weekdays from Weekends. It helps to have some semblance of the normal rhythms of ordinary life. Put different things on your weekend schedule than the weekday. Maybe dinner Friday night is take-out, or something a little fancy served with wine. Maybe it’s movies in the evening instead of series TV. Maybe you do something religious or spiritual. Maybe you make a pizza Saturday night. Whatever makes the feel of a weekend different is good.

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

Dress Yourself. Uncertainty, depression, isolation—what’s the point of getting dressed when pajamas are so very comfortable? And who’s to know if you washed today or brushed your teeth? While comfort is important when you’re stressed, make yourself bathe and dress every day. It does good things for your state of mind, even if all you achieve is sweatpants and a T-shirt.

Use Your Body. Some of your scheduled activities should be physical motion. Whether you go for a walk or run in the deserted streets, change the sheets on all the beds, tackle yard work, take a yoga class online, or scrub the kitchen floor on hands and knees, being physical is good for your body and your mind. See if you can get a minimum of thirty minutes six days a week, mixing it up however you like.

Feed Your Body. Some stress eating and treats are okay, but not every day and not in large portions. While grocery stores struggle to maintain stock, buy and eat what’s available that’s essentially healthy.

Feed Your Inner Self. Do something solely because it brings you pleasure, peace, or comfort, daily if possible. Take a long soak in the tub. Meditate or pray. Pet your pet (hence the name, right?). Go for a drive. Have sex with your partner or solo. Sing or play an instrument.

Not Too Much. If you drink alcohol or use marijuana, don’t let yourself overindulge as a new way of daily living.

Soothe the Savage Breast, or Beast, Whichever You Have. Use music to set moods that match your needs. New Age and Classical allow you to do work that requires thought. The right kind of rock gives you energy for tasks. Other music makes a pleasant background for cooking, during a meal, or to listen to while you enjoy a stroll.

Breathe. There’s something different about fresh air. Open windows if it’s warm enough, airing out one room at a time. Better, get yourself outside regardless of the weather. You can walk or run, or simply sit in a chair in the yard or on a park bench, even if it requires a coat. Stroll a public park or hiking trail if social distance is possible for all. Don’t let temperature or precipitation be what stops you. A walk in the rain can be really calming.

TAKE CARE OF YOUR SPACE

Organize a Little at a Time. Your day’s schedule should often incorporate something that organizes your home. Clean the coat closet, the sock drawer, kitchen cabinets, under the bathroom sink. Throw away, set aside to donate, re-arrange for actual use.

Cleanliness is Next to… Something. Walking into a place that’s usually cluttered or dirty is very, very different than when it’s clean, free of dust, nothing out that shouldn’t be. Schedule cleaning right up there with organizing. Messes and clutter that seem too large to tackle can be dealt with in the time you suddenly have.

Fix It and Forget It. You have things you’re holding onto because they need a small repair, mending, the hem reattached, a new screw, a dab of paint, right? Now’s the time. If you don’t have the materials, make a list. Order online, or shop, maintaining social distance and washing well afterward, if the store is open.

Big Deal. A break of weeks at home is also the time to undertake some projects that seem just too much for a weekend. Is this the time to tear out carpet, paint the bedroom, deep clean the car inside and out, build those movable shelves to hold the bins of fabric, camping gear, tools, or keepsakes? Yeah.

CREATE

Return to a Hobby. Or try a new one, accepting the learning curve. YouTube has videos, websites have tutorials, and if you have or can get the materials, you could be doing something that both makes something cool and brings you satisfaction and pride. There’s no limit to the possibilities here.

It’s Only Words. There’s time to write that story or get a start on the novel, try your hand at poetry, write up family history to pass on to relatives, or a zillion other projects that involve writing. Remember that whether anyone ever sees what you write is entirely your choice.

Adventures in the Kitchen. There are websites galore with new recipes for you to try, alone or with others. Find something that sounds good and give it a try.

Think of Others. While you’re at home bouncing off the walls in your eagerness to get out, don’t forget that within a few miles there are health care workers who haven’t had more than twelve hours off in weeks and live away from their families in fear of contagion, people unable to afford food for their kids, worried about Dad alone in another state, suffering increased symptoms from their mental illness, unable to get the drugs they need for serious health problems, sick with something that could be COVID-19 if there were enough tests to know for sure. Take a moment to be thankful all you are is stir-crazy, and to give to help others however you can.

ABCDEnough

July 28, 2019

When it rains, it pours. And hails.

The Monday before a trip planned to begin the following Sunday, I took my car in for its state inspection. On the drive there, the check engine light came on, showing transmission fluid overheating. They could reset it, they said, but the inspection requires data so they couldn’t perform it until I’d driven fifty miles.

During the fifty miles, the check engine light came on again. It went off after the car had sat in the garage overnight and didn’t come on when I started it again. I called but the next service appointment wasn’t until the following week, when we planned to be in another state and our inspection would be expired. They suggested I leave it all day Friday, which I did. They inspected it and passed it, and fixed some wiring leading to the transmission temperature sensor. They didn’t charge for the wiring.

Good thing, since the light came on again on my drive home. I called and was assured it was safe to drive on a trip and they’d try again on my return.

Sunday, the house was awfully warm. The house’s air conditioning wasn’t cooling. This prompted us to leave early, breaking the very long day’s drive into a half a day Sunday afternoon and a regular day Monday.

As we backed out of the driveway, we saw that bees were swarming their favorite spot, which had required an exterminator the year before. No time for that now.

We were nearly an hour away from home, the check engine light on, when the warning chime for a dangerous condition sounded and the panel showed us with no data from the sensor. Then a dial showed, the temperature at the middle. Jump to the maximum. Disappear, no data. Middle again. Maximum. The whole time the chime was sounding about every 60 seconds. We could not make a trip like this.

So we drove home—the house was really warm now—and put our luggage into the other car, which is fifteen years old and needs a muffler. We backed out a second time, noting there were at least ten bees gnawing their way under our siding. The person who’d be picking up our mail wasn’t going to like that.

Nearly two and a half hours after we’d initially left, we were on the road again. We wouldn’t reach our hotel before dinner, so where should we stop? We discussed revisiting a restaurant we’d enjoyed well enough for lunches in past trips.

When we arrived, it had gone out of business. There were two other restaurants near the exit. One had an hour wait, the other a half hour. We didn’t want to lose that much time.

We drove past the major city and its immediate suburbs and saw a chain restaurant that didn’t have a full parking lot. Good enough—barely.

Over dinner, we checked our email and had a message left at 7:46 pm. on our landline back home from Home Depot in Watertown, Massachusetts. We don’t live there, but our daughter isn’t far. I texted her; she’d been waiting all day for them to email and text her at her own number that her order was ready for pick up. No, she hadn’t given the landline number at a place she hasn’t lived for a dozen years. Her last name isn’t the same as ours since her marriage. How they’d gotten that number and why they ignored the one she gave remains a mystery—but there was no mystery that the store was closed for the day.

Our hotel check-in went smoothly enough, but there was a wait for the elevator, because one wasn’t working. I’m in the hotel now, mulling over our day.

A, the air conditioning broke

B, the bees are swarming our front door

C, the car was undriveable despite being in for service twice that week

D, our dinner choice was impossible, and so were back-ups in the vicinity

E, the elevator was out

F, Home Depot fucked up on who and how to notify an order was ready

I can’t wait for G.