my personal year -- 2006 in review

As I approach my next birthday, which is the last one before I am eligible to join AARP, I take stock of 2006.

A while back, my sister told me about life-changing news and then asked how I am. I distinctly remember saying that my life was quite boring, thank you very much. However, when I listed the events of significance this last year, I was surprised to remember how much had actually happened. So apologies in advance if this is boring to everyone but me.

Pets
At the beginning of last year, my beloved cat Juliet had been diagnosed with incurable cancer and had gone blind just a week earlier. I spent as much time with her as I possibly could in January, working at home, taking time off, not traveling. She required a lot of care and many vet visits. I believe we kept her comfortable up to the end. She lasted just until the end of January and died the day before my birthday. Her picture is on my desk at work and at home; her ashes are in my bedroom in a beautiful box. I think about her often.

I started visiting the kitty museum (our local cat boarding kennel) within a day or two and dropped in on the no-kill shelter perhaps a week after that. I was really just window shopping. Really. While there, I met a frightened, tiny, sweet tiger girl and absolutely fell in love with her. After my second visit, I admitted to Robert that I had met somebody and when he responded that he'd wondered how long that would take (and didn't roll his eyes, but I knew he was rolling them mentally), I took him along on the third visit, and he too fell in love. On the fourth visit, I decided to take her home. Because she was so scared, I eventually named her Koa, Hawaiian for courage.

We have been dealing with Koa's fear and anxiety ever since. She's made much progress, but still has a long way to go. She is most comfortable on my bed, and is continuing to adapt to the downstairs and to visits from strangers. She is also proving to be a playful, graceful, curious, and affectionate cat. I am moved to think about how hard she tries to be brave, and I am delighted that she makes tiny increments of progress nearly daily.

In July, we welcomed Baby Theo into the household. Robert and I spent six weeks separated by the Great Wall of Maynard, keeping our individual cats company. At one point, when Robert visited his family, I was spending half nights on each side of the upstairs so that both kitties would have some time and attention.

Theo is a big ol' happy fellow. He purrs when you look at him, while he plays, when he's being petted, when he's comfortable and happy, and just "because". He loves to hunt and torture insects and then eat them. The windows in the house serve as his television. From his various perches, he fantasizes about catching all the birds and squirrels he sees -- he chatters at them and whips his tail furiously. He's also a teenager who's full of testosterone (despite corrective surgery) and has discovered the biggest toy of all -- a real live kitty whom he can grab around the neck and chase and try to bite.

I do think the two kitties are friends. They certainly keep us laughing at their antics and cooing at their efforts to outcute each other.

Family
Our families provided the big news of the year:

• Robert and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary. I think he'd agree that we've both happily signed up for at least two more years. Maybe more.
• Robert lost his job of ten years in late March. I think it took him a while to catch on to the game that his called "getting a job". It involved much advice from many quarters, lots of workshops, and a supportive network. But he finally received a job offer in December, and he'll be starting his new job within a few days.
• My step-father died after many years of disability and about five long years of badly declining health. My mother, who was in Central America during his final illness, was able to spend a few hours with him just hours before he died.
• My mother moved from her "very vertical" townhouse to a far more efficient, fun, and well-located apartment. She accomplished her move (including readying the house, selling it, and packing and unpacking) surprisingly quickly. She seems quite happy in her new place and started making friends there almost immediately.
• My first cousin was married this fall. It was her first, and we hope last, wedding. And oh, what a party. As an added bonus, my sister, brother, and I were all there helping to celebrate. The three of us hadn't all been in one room (let alone one state) for at least four years.
• My cousin's older sister (also my cousin) announced her engagement. We also hope that her first marriage is her last and that both sisters are happy for many many decades.
• My sister and her husband sadly announced their separation after 15 years of marriage. They both have new partners, and I hope that everything works out for everyone in the coming months and years.
• Robert's parents celebrated their 50th anniversary with much of their family at hand. We wish them many more decades, too, to which we'll add "healthy" decades.
• Robert's grandmother died. Robert spent time with his family and was touched by the stories and shared experiences.
• And in almost family, the mother of my best friend in high school died of ovarian cancer. She was funny and artistic and loving and sane, and she will be missed.

Friends
As I look through my 2006 calendar, I can see that I and we had many social engagements over the year. I have a standing Tuesday morning coffee date with a newish friend, someone I got to know a little when Juliet was sick. I've also seen a lot of my friend Barb, for occasional lunches, and of her and her husband, John (sometimes with Robert included) for other occasions. We spent time with Barb and John in the Berkshires this summer, and we were honored to join them at their house for Thanksgiving this fall.

I was beyond happy to see my friends Kevin and Dick in California this spring. They lead a great life -- full of love and spirit and mind (oh yeah, and cats). I am grateful to be a small part of it, grateful that we can maintain a long-distance friendship, and wistful about not seeing them more often. My friends Patti and Sally moved away from this area ten or fifteen years ago, but we've stayed in touch. I had a fun and funny lunch with them this summer when they were in town for a conference that Patti was attending.

And my brother, who is a friend as well as a relative, brought his family for a whirlwind visit in June, when they were passing through New England.

My dear friend and former boss, KAH, has been suffering from depression. He has taken a leave of absence from work and has been seeking treatment. He is an extremely private person, and I am grateful that he has shared some of his experience with us on his blog. My thoughts are with him and his family.

Milestones
There were several notable milestones this year in addition to the ones I've already mentioned.
My friend, Chris Cirker died young and we attended his funeral.

My friend, AA, journeyed to Labrador to commemorate her sister's death thirty years ago, perhaps at the hands of a fellow researcher. A was invited to create a piece about her trip for the radio show, The World. The piece just aired a few days ago, and she did a phenomenal job, poignant and full of beauty.

I was honored to help my friend Dan celebrate his 40th birthday and to help my friend John celebrate his 60th. I think they're both in backwards machines, getting younger by the day.

More recently, two important people died whom I did not meet.

I note the passing of Gerald Ford, whom I always admired even when others didn't. As a surprise president, he was able to follow his own heart, rather than the whims of the polls, and showed us what true leadership is all about. Each time I see a flag at half mast (and there are a lot of them these days, even at McDonald's), I feel a pang of sadness for this great man.

Just yesterday, Donald Murray died. DM wrote a weekly column for the Boston Globe, one full of the joy to be found in living a life filled with pain. I did not know until today that he won a Pulitzer Prize in the 1950s (during his late 20s), though he clearly deserved at least one. His columns about loss -- his unhappy unaffectionate childhood, his experiences in World War II, his daughter's death at age 20, and his wife's death just last year -- were heart-shredding. His comments on the delights of music, solitude, writing, and friends gave me renewed hope, helped me see the light amidst all the sadness.

Work
My biggest career accomplishment this year was presenting work I'd done to a conference full of professionals, way more advanced than I. It was my first time speaking at a conference and I was enormously proud that I put together a coherent set of slides, gave my talk, and handled questions, especially after sitting through an entire conference of excellent talks. I was honored that afterwards, several people told me that mine was the best talk of the conference and that they could immediately apply some of the techniques I discussed.

Culture
Robert and I attended somewhere between 40 and 50 live performances this year, including music, dance, and theater. Just a few of the highlights:

• Caroline or Change, a muscial by Tony Kushner, set in the 60s, about race, class, societal tension, politics.
• Angels in America, a play by Tony Kushner, recast as an opera. I hate opera and I loved this.
• Urinetown, yet another musical, one of the most unusual pieces of theater I've seen, about what happens to society when a large corporation forces everyone to "pay to pee". It was originally written as a goof-piece, incorporating the worst and most over-the-top theater techniques, and became a huge hit. We saw it at our local favorite community theater.
• The Crucible, which we saw at the same little theater. Grimly unbearable, but oh so timely once again, after being timely when it was first written. Beautifully designed and played. I was dreading seeing it, and am very glad (though not happy) that I did.

We continue to enjoy contra dancing with a smattering of English contra dancing. We love the dance, the music, and of course the people we dance with.

Travel
We traveled a few times to places nearby. We went to Provincetown in mid-February for a romantic cold getaway. We stayed at an inn where we knew the owners and where friends were staying, and spent mornings laughing long after the breakfast plates had been cleared away.

We attended spring dance camp where it rained almost non-stop, but where the dancing was so great and the feel of the camp was so warm that we really didn't care. We'll be back this spring.

We traveled to the Berkshires twice for summer culture, staying in two familiar B&Bs. Western Massachusetts is a magical place.

We went to Costa Rica for less than a week to see my brother and his family. It remains to be seen where they'll end up next year or whether they'll stay in CR.

And of course our big trip was to Egypt with a group of fun dancers. We toured like nuts, met lots of people, spent a week on the Nile, and had a better time than I had imagined we would.

Health
This year, my eyesight deteriorated further. I still have 20/20 distance vision, but it's hard for me to read even medium-sized text without glasses. For years, my astigmatism made reading without glasses a strain, but now letters are actually blurry. I can no longer navigate in the car without glasses, and I am grateful to Mapquest for increasing the default size of their text.

I had a breast scare this summer. I made three visits to the "Breast Health" center before finding out that I have "calcifications" (doesn't that sound Victorian?) and that I need more frequent, but perfectly routine (yeah, yeah, yeah), checkups than before.

I started receiving acupuncture after seeing how well Juliet responded to it. (My practioner said "This is the first time I've ever received a reference from a *cat*!") After months of pain and ineffective stretches, the needles helped clear up the problems I was experiencing.

In the mental health arena, I completed my latest estate plan, made perhaps more complicated by the fact that I'm legally married. It's done for now. I'll need to look at it again in another five to six years. And of course, I recommend that everyone develops protections for themselves and their loved ones.

In the positive column, I've continued to swim regularly. I used to suffer from terrible and long-lasting colds. I rarely have a cold now, and when I do, it typically lasts just a few days. And a few years ago, my cholesterol was high enough to warrant my going on medication (but I didn't). The last time I had a physical, the numbers had improved enough that my doctor asked me twice if I was on medication. Victory!

Parting shot
Several years ago, a friend and I bought fleece vests embroidered with the letters BTW. It stood for Bad Technical Writer and reflected our extremely poor attitude toward work back then. I still wear mine on particularly grouchy or annoying days.

About a month ago, we decided we needed more fleece in our lives, and so ordered identical lavender sweaters. This time, we had them embroidered as follows:

(yafle)

For Yet Another Learning Experience, the f, of course, being silent.

All in all, a good year. Looking forward to changes, adventures, and surprises in 2007, the year of AARP-minus-one.

a lovely christmas this year

Christmas this year was plenty of fun, though of the subdued grownup variety. On Friday morning, I had a long breakfast with a friend (three and a half hours long!) at one of my favorite places. A few planes and helicopters were fueling up and taking off, so the scenery in the distance was entertaining, too.

I went grocery shopping -- quickly, efficiently, in, out, done. Yahoo! We enjoyed the company of friends at a new (to me) restaurant on Friday evening. Then, on Saturday, after a quiet day, saw another friend for dinner.

On Sunday, we took a long walk and stopped off to visit a friend. We invited her to join us on Christmas, Monday. Perhaps she said yes because we took her by surprise, but she seemed genuinely pleased and said she'd come. When we returned home, another friend (more of a Christmas regular) called to ask if our invitation to him was still open. Of course!

So yesterday, the celebrated day itself, we opened presents from various parents and from each other. We then cooked some intriguing sounding dishes (including stuffed spaghetti squash and a sweet dessert pudding whose secret ingredient (cauliflower) is reputed to puzzle your guests.

Our friends arrived and to our great relief, very much enjoyed meeting each other. We played "can you read this" with an illegible Christmas card we'd received and now finally understand what our correspondants were trying to tell us. We laughed about "Happy Holidays" vs. "Merry Christmas" and told hellish stories about work (well, our guests did; Robert and I just listened). We ate incredibly well, especially since one guest brought a professional-style cake made by one of his friends. Yum! We drank wine, but not too much, and had a bit of liqueur after dinner, but for the most part were responsible adults.

And the cats were great. Theo performed his little heart out, playing with toys, visiting the guests, climbing his new structure, coming by for more scratches on the head. And Koa sat at the top of the stairs all evening, listening to the proceedings. I count this as progress, given that she didn't spend the whole night sequestered in the far reaches of a dark closet. I occasionally walked to the bottom of the stairs, blinked at her, and told her what a good girl she was. She blinked back.

Today, a box of cat presents arrived, including a little cat tent. Up it went on the bed and in went Koa. Theo is lying next to it, perhaps waiting for his turn. Occasionally Koa pokes her head out, takes a look outside, and goes back inside for more nap.

Robert may visit his sister (and kids, family, and on and on). During a phone call earlier today, Robert learned that the noslings have received extremely noisy toys. Some may think that I'm entirely altruistic sending Robert off to visit his family, staying alone, by myself, with just the cats for company. It will be quiet here.

addendum to posting on tipping -- not a total grinch

After some thought, I want to add that I do tip appropriately (perhaps generously) in restaurants where it's clear that most of a waiter's income is derived from tips. And certainly I tip airport van drivers, taxidrivers, bellboys, and people in cultures where tipping is part of the norm (Robert and I left a wake of tiny tips in Egypt. It was part of the culture.)

It rankles me when I'm expected to give tips to people who are paid a normal salary for doing a mediocre job, at best. If someone does an exceptional job and is paid a normal salary, then I consider tipping.

end of year tipping strategies

I know that at the end of the year, you're supposed to tip service people generously. I try to keep it simple. So I never leave anything -- no booze, no cookies, no money -- for the post man, though I do give him a big smile on the rare occasion when I see him drive up to the mail box. Similarly, I don't tip counter people for getting me a cup of coffee, and I don't leave tips on top of the garbage can.

I don't live in Manhattan, so I don't have to tip the building super or anyone else who works in my building, though Robert does come in for special consideration.

I do try to be generous with the dreaded vacuum cleaner lady (who is very nice, actually, though the kitties would tell you otherwise) and the woman who cuts my hair (whom I see more frequently than I see most of my friends).

And the newspaper man. In past years, I have given in and started to tip the man who delivers the newspaper. Some time last week, our newspaper bag included a small envelope on which was printed an exceedingly long message. It talked about what a privilege it is to have me as a customer, then moved on to instructions for canceling service when I'm away, and finally, in a sudden bout of self-awareness, realized that it was an envelope, and should I want to let the delivery man know how much I appreciate his service, I could tuck a little offering inside (no cash, please) and send the envelope to the address conveniently printed on the other side.

And yes, we do get the paper every morning at the crack of 7 (even though we're guaranteed to have the paper by 6). And no matter where I ask for it to be placed, it ends up in the middle of the driveway, which even I am beginning to think is fine, except on those mornings when it's raining and the paper ends up in a puddle and is soaked through with water.

While I was considering this tip for service (notice that I carefully didn't say "exceptional"), Sunday morning rolled around. Somehow, when the paper arrived that morning, the driver managed not to drop it on the driveway, but to slide it. It was a windy day, and close to Christmas. The resulting combination was not happy. Before I picked up the bag, I had to go around the yard and pick up all the inserts that were happily blowing around. Then I picked up the bag, and indoors, unpacked it. One of the few things that had managed to stay in the bag was a little envelope containing one of the most insipid Christmas cards ever (the kind that even K-Mart would be embarrassed to sell). On the envelope was the same address of the man seeking tips a few days earlier.

So how much does one tip in this situation?

crazy cat lady

I've finally let my true nature come out. Some of my readers know that I have a slight fondness for cats.

For the first time, I have two indoor cats, ones that are full of crazy energy. I mean, they can be sitting quietly, licking unspeakable parts, sit up with a jolt, put their ears back, tear around the house (over and sometimes apparently through furniture) and suddenly be on the other side of the room, looking calm and peaceful.

Or one will be walking through a room and the other will wind up and pounce. More often than not, the "victim," our older kitty, will just step aside and the pouncer will go flying, usually in somersault formation.

I got it into my head to get a cat tree, went surfing, and found one that looked good and was much less expensive than ones I've seen in the stores. Who knew if ordering it would result in a big fight with the credit card company over non-delivery of goods or if it would arrive and be cheap, cheesy, and regrettable? But I went for it.

I ordered it on Friday, it shipped on Monday, and arrived on Tuesday, the busiest day of the year for UPS men. I did not anticipate that our delivery guys would be cheerful, but they were amazingly pleasant. However, even I realize that as they think about their long hours, they feel better imagining that they're putting smiles on the faces of each of the 2.5 children who live in the houses on our street. It did not seem like a good idea to let them know that they were going to make our cats very happy.

We lugged the box inside -- all 50 pounds -- and before I could say "I'd be happy to assemble it," Robert had it mostly put together. We broke for dinner, during which time Theo started to inspect it. We quickly attached the rest of the pieces and put the thing in place. It's huge. There are something like eight levels, eleven sisal scratching posts, and even a little house with a doorway, window, and ceiling.

I expected that the cats would pretty much ignore it, just because I was so excited about it. But no, they explored the whole thing. Koa rubbed her cheek on every corner, scratched satisfyingly on most of the posts, and climbed up, only to encounter Theo, who was waiting for her. There followed a "king of the hill" session where one would climb higher and try to bat at and air bite at the other, preventing that one from ascending. Then the "king" would hop down and the other would climb up. After several rounds, Theo ended up on the couch, and Koa curled up on one of the platforms.

I was terrifically pleased that Koa chose to spend a significant portion of the evening with us, and that she was so relaxed.

I'm delighted with this new piece of furniture. I acknowledge that it is beautiful only to cats and to those who love them -- I'm sure my gay card would be taken away if my more stylish friends saw this monstrosity. But still, it seems like a good addition to the household.

fairy tale

Last Saturday night, we were invited to a combined birthday and holiday party. We set out for Boston, drove into my friend's neighborhood, and because it was Saturday night, could not find a place to park. We drove around for a while and finally found a spot between two Manhattan-style public housing apartment buildings, somewhere between Symphony Hall and the Boston City Hospital (which are only a few blocks apart).

This particular neighborhood is not known for being especially safe. (In fact, the next morning, we read that there had been a double-stabbing closer to the "safe" neighborhoods, by Symphony Hall as we were victoriously sliding into our parking space.) Just a few paces past the car, we saw an open barbershop (a bit of an oddity at 8pm on a Saturday evening). It was packed with barbers and clients. A little boy was trying to get in and we realized that to gain entrance, he actually had to ring a bell to be buzzed in. To a barbershop (or was it something else?).

We turned off the main drag onto a side street and noticed the gate to a large private underground parking area. And then we turned onto my friend's street. About five years ago, someone bought up the whole block (or alley, not sure what it was), tore down the buildings, and replaced them with substantial, clean, new townhouses.

And the fairy tale didn't stop when we went into the party -- the house was beautifully decorated. They had outsourced everything, including posting someone by the door to welcome you and take your coats. Someone had been hired to play the piano all evening. And the whole event was catered, with buffet snacks, passed hors d'oeuvres, and a bartender in the kitchen.

And the host couple have fascinating friends from academia, from the art world, and just "from around." One of the guests works for the Boston Globe and had created an entire front page, complete with stories and pictures, about the birthday boy.

The celebrant's life is like a fairy tale too. He comes from what are called humble beginnings, with a father who died early on, and a mother who loved him and did the best she could and is unfortunately no longer with us either. A whole new world was opened up to him when he discovered a college out east and put together a scholarship package (with seemingly no connections to help him) so that he could attend. He went on to get an MBA. He's young, he's very successful in the business world, he's extraordinarily charming, and has a graceful soul.

A few years ago, he and I worked together and clicked. Right about that time, he was having marvelous adventures, but not finding the person to settle down with. One night, he went out to dinner with friends, stepped into the restaurant's lobby for a few minutes, started chatting with someone else who was also taking a quick break, and they enjoyed their quick talk so much that they casually exchanged phone numbers. A few years ago, we were privileged to attend the resulting wedding. But that could happen only after my friend's husband successfully left the priesthood. (That in itself was an incredible process, but despite all the hoops, the church has been true to its word about the process having a defined ending point.)

Both husbands seem to be doing well, one in an academic position (language with a serious art history sideline), the other in a company other than the one in which we met. They continue to lead a charmed life, and I couldn't be happier for them.

Happy 40th, DM!

doin' a happy dance

Robert has been out of work for eight months. When it all happened back in April, he got a slow start, dragging through his resume, slowly working on improving it, working more at cleaning out the old office (as one of two people who worked there, there wasn't "someone else" to do it when he and his coworker were laid off).

Originally, he thought he'd take a few weeks off, and then magically get a job in our town where there actually are jobs. Hmmm. Then, he thought he'd take the summer off and magically get a job in the fall. Hmmm. Neither of those plans worked out.

One of the issues is that Robert is a programmer with experience in some popular languages. But he does not know some of the other hot languages, and there are areas of the industry that he's just not interested in. Unfortunately, it's in those areas that people are doing the most hiring right now. So there are a lot of jobs, but many of them are not good fits for Robert nor he for them.

Gone are the days when most managers will say "Gee, you don't have this kind of experience, but you're smart, hard-working, and you've learned plenty of other things. Come work for us and we'll teach you!" These days, it's expected that you're productive out of the box (like a new computer), with very little rampup time once you start a new job. That's reasonable, but it slows down the search process significantly.

This fall, Robert started networking more. He took a few classes at the Mass unemployment offices. He joined some job-buddy groups, both informal and more structured.

He got some good nibbles, went on some interviews, and most of the jobs were given to internal candidates, or the hiring people suddenly decided they wanted more of some kind of experience that Robert didn't have.

He's also been deluged with calls from head-hunters. A few have been very helpful, the rest haven't even bothered to read his resume, so didn't realize what a bad match they were making. Some have been downright silly (warm body? job opening? sounds like a good match to me!) and have left the ever-patient Robert shaking his head.

Financially, we've been fine. We rearranged a few things, his parents made a small but timely gift, and unemployment has been a godsend until last week when they sent their last check (whoops). We quickly changed some short-term and long-term plans, but so far we haven't had to change our style of living too much.

And Robert's spirits have been high throughout. One of my big concerns was that he'd start to take all the No's personally, but thankfully he hasn't.

Last week or the week before, Robert received a call from an internal recruiter in a Boston company. He went on an interview this past Thursday and apparently nailed the one "behavioral" question he was asked. Unfortunately, the hiring manager said that he didn't match as many of the technical qualifications as many of their other candidates. On the other hand, he did have more domain knowledge than other candidates. (The job is in a bizarrely similar niche to his last job.) We both knew where this was going, sigh -- it's been great meeting you, we'll keep you in mind, thank you for coming in, etc etc etc.

Yesterday, Friday, I came home from my swim and Robert was having a relaxed phone conversation. Without listening too hard, I kept thinking that perhaps his dad or his aunt was on the other end. When he got off the phone, he told me he had been talking to the recruiter, and... he has an offer, a really nice one. And he's planning to accept. And because of the holidays, he's not starting until the beginning of January. YES!!!

Just about everything's right about the company. They've been around for over 100 years and have kept up with the times, morphing to fit the needs of customers. People work hard there, and the company makes them feel important and valued. Turnover is low. The company is big but not huge, so you're not stuck in one place. The one drawback (so far) is the commute. By miles, it's not far, but it will be tough getting through the traffic. So he might commute by rail. We're talking about getting Robert some kind of smallish laptop so that he can do some of his work on the train.

I couldn't be happier, and I think Robert is pretty darned happy too. This is indeed good news.