Losing a TV show
Last night I scrolled through the DVR list and sort of automatically started playing the latest episode of the cooking show, Cook’s Country. And quickly realized that I didn’t care about how Basque fried chicken is made!
Oh, this is so sad! Cook’s Country and its sister show America’s Test Kitchen were two shows that Marian and I could watch together and talk about. “We could make that.” “Nah, too many ingredients.” But now: I don’t expect to cook an actual entrée ever again. I don’t care about easy ways to make suppers. And there’s nobody to exchange snarky comments with about over-elaborate recipes. So this is the first TV show that I’m dropping because its main interest for me, was sharing it with Marian. Went through the DVR subscription list and dropped one other, Dancing with the Stars. The rest of them I have enough interest in to keep watching — even Top Chef , which is a whole different kind of cooking, a performance art, that I can admire without needing the personal connection.
Anyway, that was last night. Today (12/12/18) I went on
A City Adventure
The plan was to take Caltrain to the City, Lyft to the DeYoung museum, see an exhibit of works by Gaugin, and return the same way. But walking to the Caltrain station I was hit by lots of
I found myself again beset with formless anxiety—that feeling you might get when you realize there’s something undone, or overdue, or mistaken, but with no specific object or reason. I knew I was doing what I planned to do; knew it was a viable plan; knew I was ahead of schedule. Whence the fretting?
And realized that what was missing was Marian’s agreement in the plan! Here’s how it is with partners: One says “I think I’ll do thus-and-so Wednesday.” And the other, “We were going to such-and-such that day.” “Oh, well, maybe in the afternoon…” “When will you be back, I need the car by…” and so forth. Every activity gets cross-checked and tweaked to be sensible and efficient. Before, if I were to set off for the city for a day, it would be with the comfortable assurance that I’d shared the plan with Marian and her practical mind—the mind that had so often caught me in simple oversights—agreed that my plan made sense.
Don’t have that now! Rechecking all my intentions, I carried on with
Which all worked smoothly enough. I’d actually spent five minutes reading up on Gaugin before I left and learned more from the very nicely arranged and documented exhibit. But, meh. Not a fan of his paintings, except for one or two of the later ones, like Reclining Tahitian Women. But I kept wandering through the other galleries and quite enjoyed the room full of big landscapes, California and Hudson River School, and was quite amazed by some of the huge carvings in the collection from New Guinea and the Solomon Islands.
Had a nice lunch in the café and started back. On the train home, Maria from the Neptune Society called to say that the death certificates will be ready tomorrow. So tomorrow I need to get them, then visit the Social Security office and make that notification official. According to Jean, when she reported Bill’s death, she was given the option of choosing which payment to continue receiving, his or hers, and obviously you pick the larger, which in my case, would be Marian’s.
I have also uncovered an ancient IBM Life Insurance policy that might or might not mean I have $5000 coming from them. Not clear, but I will also be notifying them tomorrow or Friday, once I have the certs. in hand.