Day 72, game and crafty stuff

Sunday, 2/10/2019

Sunday breakfast at the PA Cafe as usual. Home to plan out a craft project. At the museum the Education group has their own collection of artifacts. Items in the “real” collection are handled sparingly, with gloves, then packed away in archival-quality materials never to be touched again unless brought out for someone doing research. Items in the EDU collection are kept on shelves in a closet and are available to be handled (pawed, mauled) by school kids during various classes. I know about this because sometimes I help another volunteer who’s been building a catalog of the EDU collection.

Two weeks ago we cataloged a couple of real core planes, which are insanely delicate. I recalled that in the 1401 lab, they hand around a core plane during their demo, but it has been sandwiched in clear plastic — a good idea, given how easy it would be to poke a finger right through it. Toni and I thought it would be a good idea to put plastic on these also. We drew a plan for the pieces. She went to TAP Plastics last week and had the pieces cut. I picked them up when I was at the Museum Saturday and today was the day to assemble them.

I started with a trip to ACE Hardware to get the needed bolts nuts washers. Then it turned out that TAP had misread my drawing, or something, and some holes didn’t line up and two pieces were too long. Fortunately I still have tools. I used a carpenter’s square, two C-clamps, a box cutter, and my nifty little Bosch drill that Marian gave me Christmas 2017. (This helped clarify how much of my tool collection I should retain in The Transition. Quite a bit of it.) By the time I had the plastic pieces cut and drilled it was time for

Basketball

On Saturday I was so into getting down my thoughts about photography and slides that I forgot to report the result of the Friday night game, which against OSU. It started badly when the Beavers were ahead by 6 after 1 minute. Then Stanford’s defense woke up and they shut OSU down. After five minutes the game was never in doubt and Stanford won by 25.

Today was not so much fun. The Oregon Ducks are ranked #3 in the country — Stanford is #11 but likely to go down after today — and they played like it. Oregon dominated at both ends of the floor, were up by 24 at the half, and finished up by 35.

After the game I made one more stop at the hardware store and then did

more crafty stuff

producing two nicely encased core planes. Here’s one.

This is a 1960-era plane, perhaps from a 1401 or some other IBM machine of the very early 60s. The other plane has amazingly tiny “donuts”, a quarter the size of these, and probably comes from a minicomputer of the late 60s. Anyway, no grubby-fingered student is going to be poking at this one, but they can still see the toroids and the wiring.

I made a bit of supper and sat down to watch TV.

Day 65, laundry, mulling, and Superb Owl

Azalea Grief

I was so busy involved in getting my notes on Webster House straight that I forgot to mention a major grief spasm, the first after several days of calm. As I left the house to head for my meeting, my eye was caught by the azalea under the front window, which is covered in pink blossoms. This was Marian’s favorite plant, selected by her and carefully nurtured for many years, and its blooming — which always seems to come unexpectedly, one day bare and the next day blazing with pink — delighted her every year. I was just swept with a wave of pity and regret that she couldn’t enjoy its blooming now. I tried to talk it out to my steering wheel as I drove to my meeting, and couldn’t keep my voice from breaking. Still feel it, as I write.

Home Court

At the game, Stanford rolled over Cal, winning by 25. This seemed to me like a great demonstration of the power of the home court advantage. Based on the record this season up until this week, Stanford should be about a 10-point winner over Cal every time. Cal has lost to several teams Stanford has beaten. However, playing at Cal, the teams played virtually even, were tied several times, with Cal finally winning by a single point on a buzzer-beater. Cal shouldn’t be that good, nor Stanford that bad! Then, at Stanford, Cal conceded a 10-point lead to Stanford in the first two minutes and lost by 25. Cal shouldn’t look that bad, nor Stanford that good! Location and crowd support would appear to provide a 10-15 point swing in favor of the home team.

That said, following the game Tara talked to the crowd and, asked about the difference, said approximately this: “We watched a lot of film of the last two games [both were losses] with the team, and pointed out all the places where a little more effort would have made a difference, and I think everybody stepped up today.” So, you know, maybe coaching has something to do with it…

Sunday, 2/3/2019

Stripped the bed and sorted and started the laundry before heading out to coffee. Tried a new coffee shop, Mademoiselle Collette, which had been pointed out to me by Joan, as a feature of living at Webster House. Meh, not impressed. Well, impressed to this extent: they actually know what a macchiato is, and a cappuccino. Pastries ok. But the place is too small. All the four(?) small tables were in use when I arrived at 8:15. I had to sit at a narrow counter in the window, not very comfortable for reading the Sunday paper.

Back home I did a lot of inconclusive thinking and shopping. This will be boring for anybody but me.

Thinking about TV

First shopped for a TV. Looking ahead at The Transition (see yesterday), how much of my aging home theater setup should I carry over? Practically none. I’ll be dropping DirecTV for whatever the chosen ILF has (probably Comcast), so, different DVR. I’ll probably drop the receiver at the center of the system because, (A), I only use it to switch between the DVR, the Blu-Ray player, and the laptop; and new TVs all have at least three HDMI inputs, so can do that. And (B), its other purpose is 4-channel sound from various devices, which I don’t really need; a modern sound-bar unit driven by the TV will do just fine. So a new TV can do all the useful functions of the receiver. Good, one less box. The TV itself? It’s ok but there is better new tech. However, the really good new TV tech, OLED, is only available in sizes 49in and up, about 5in wider and 2in higher than the present TV.

Suddenly I realize that very likely, I want to take the TV stand/room divider piece along to the new location.

Thinking about a laptop

Second, shopped for a replacement laptop. My 2013-era Macbook Pro (MBP) is aging; there’s an annoying little split in the cover of the screen and the keyboard is acting wonky, and so on. The house is full of macs, two iMacs and two Airs and this laptop to which I often seem to be joined at the hip. (How many of them go to new location? Just one iMac, the “big” (27in) one, and one laptop. The others can go back to Apple for credit.)

Anyway, in 2017 Apple screwed up the design of the MBP with a redesigned keyboard that is pretty universally reviled; by replacing the row of function keys with an illuminated “touch bar” that nobody likes; by dropping the USB, HDMI, and SD-card ports; and by dropping the “magsafe” magnetic power connector. New ones have only USB-C, aka “Thunderbolt” ports for power and connectivity, which means you need a “dongle” to connect to an HDMI cable, another for your old USB devices, another to plug in an SD card to get photos off your camera.

But wait: I have adequate USB and SD card connectivity on the big iMac. All I really need from the laptop is to connect via HDMI to the TV screen, which I used to do fairly often. But wait, I only did that so Marian and I could both watch a streamed basketball game. If I am not sharing the experience with anyone else, I can watch a video stream on my personal lap. The laptop screen, on my lap, is the same size as the TV at eight feet. Doh, maybe I don’t even need one dongle!

Still, I hate the touch bar and am suspicious of the latest keyboard. So option one is to buy a refurbished 2015/16 MBP off eBay; ones in “mint” condition are about $900. Or, two, to buy a new Macbook Air, the latest redesign of that model; it doesn’t have the touchbar. $1400 for a new one. It comes down to the latest keyboard; can I tolerate its feel? If so, I think I’d rather have the newest machine. I need to go and put my hands on one at the Apple store.

Well, the laundry is finishing up. I’ll wrap that up then drive to the Apple store; then it will be time to watch the superb owl.

Later: bought a MBP

Went to the Apple store, tried the current Air, didn’t like it. I could use one if I had to, but the keyboard has very little travel, half the travel of the one I’m typing on. The trackpad also has extremely small travel on a click. In both cases the machine provides a “haptic” click or tap feeling to reinforce the feeling you’ve typed or tapped. But the impression is of being very stiff, yet highly sensitive. There’s no play in the keys; the tiniest random pressure from a fingertip and you’ve typed a letter. So I came home and ordered a refurb 2015 era model.

Day 64, Webster House and a game

Saturday 2/2/2019

At 10am I met with (basketball fan buddy) Harriet outside Webster House, an ILF on the symmetrically opposite side of downtown Palo Alto from Channing House, which I toured on Day 50. Just in the door we were met by Harriet’s friend Joan, who recently moved in to Webster House. She showed us all the public spaces and her own very charming 1BR unit on the fifth, topmost, floor. Afterward we sat down in a meeting room with Kirt Pruyn, the marketing manager, to learn more; then he showed us two more 1BR units. Here I will summarize what I learned.

Webster House ILF

Webster House is fairly small as ILFs go, with 37 units and about 45 people in residence. It is a fairly modern building, put up in the 1980s as luxury condos, then later converted to a senior residence. The top floor has a small glassed-in penthouse for functions and a roof deck with a view over Palo Alto (Channing House’s top floor is similar but larger). Joan said she enjoyed exercise classes held here.

The facility owner is Covia, a non-profit that started as Episcopal Residences, set up by the Episcopalian church, or some part of it. I’m not clear as to whether it was an effort of the entire church, or perhaps only the California wing of it; because Covia now owns six properties, all located in the Bay Area. Governance is by a board, which has some kind of representation from the residents of each of the six facilities (Kirt wasn’t sure about the details, but almost certainly non-voting, as with Channing House). There is also a Webster House residents’ organization that meets quarterly and has input to the staff, as well as a food committee that interacts with the food service.

Speaking of food service, it is dinner-only. The dining room is rather small, with perhaps 10 small tables; so one would be sharing a table with others. That’s not to my taste. Joan mentioned that one reason she moved to an ILF was that she “was tired of eating dinner alone.” Fair enough, but I have no problem with eating dinner alone. I’ve been doing it for many of these 64 days, and in fact I think I prefer it. Well, be that as it may.

Weekends, dinner is served as a buffet; weekdays it is full-service, restaurant style. (Recall Channing House offers all three meals, but all are served buffet-style, in a large dining room.) Breakfast and lunch are up to each resident, either to prepare in one’s own small kitchen, or by going out. Or one can order ala-carte from the house kitchen for a fee.

Next door to the ILF building is a “health center” containing a skilled nursing facility (SNF) as well as long-term and memory-impaired care. I was assured that one can go into the SNF, e.g. after an operation, and return to one’s ILF unit. One’s monthly fee does not change in this event; however the SNF has its own separate fees. Kirt made the interesting point that typically skilled nursing fees after an operation are picked up by Medicare, in which case, time in the SNF is effectively no-charge to the resident; but he cautioned that Medicare only does so provided you are admitted to hospital for at least 72 hours. Spend less time, or don’t be admitted, and Medicare won’t help with SN fees.

Webster House’s approach to Assisted Living is “assist in place”, that is, for those who need help with meds, bathing, dressing, etc, they will arrange a caregiver to assist you to live in your unit. Such care is provided at $40/hour, I see by the rate sheet I was given. (I think such charges are at least partly covered by Medicare. By the time Marian needed such aid she was in hospice and it was included in that service, so the issue never arose for us.)

There is parking in an underground garage; it costs an additional $45/month. Every unit has its own washer/dryer (at Channing House, there is a shared laundry room on each floor). There is a small “fitness room” which I didn’t see.

Financials

For all this, the monthly cost is $5300 for a 1BR unit. But there is a buy-in fee, for which they give two options.

Option 1, you pay $500K-$700K up front (it is not clear to me why the wide range; perhaps it depends on the unit, as some are larger or have better views?). If you leave within 50 months, you get your entry fee back, prorated at 2% per month. Stay only two years and you get half back.

Option 2, you pay a higher entry of $800K-$1300K (again, don’t know the basis of the range), but now you are assured that 75% of that money will come back to you, on moving, or to your estate on your death.

One final important item. I asked Kirt about how people handle the financial gap, from when they decide to move in and need to pay circa $1M, and the time their house sells. I pointed out that I’d have to sell a bunch of assets on which I’d pay capital gains tax, just to front the money that would shortly be recovered from sale of the house. He had an answer: they will let you sign a promissory note for the entry fee. It’s a no-interest loan for 90 days, which normally covers the gap to a home sale. That’s nifty; I will ask about this when I talk to the Channing House marketing rep, which I mean to do shortly.

Joan’s apartment was very nicely furnished and decorated with things she’d brought from her former home. Which brought to my mind the issue of

Transitioning

which I hadn’t given much thought to, but now suddenly looms as a major issue. All ILF units come unfurnished. You need to move in with furniture from your former home, or new furniture, in some combination. That opens a whole new set of decisions: which of my current furnishings do I want to carry forward to a new, 1BR home? O.M.G. the decisions! Which pieces are suitable? Which are useful? How hard would it be to buy new, and where, and the shopping!

The only thought I’d given to any of this was that I want a new bed, a single or at any rate not the big old king-sized mattress that I now sleep on the right one-half of. I’d keep my comfy Ekornes recliner. The desk (“Marian’s desk” that she bought in Hawaii in the 60s, I think). At least one of the dressers in the bedroom.

But what about the green leather living room set I’ve been putting leather conditioner on. Do I really want to keep it? I had sort of lumped it and many other items into the ISMISEP/giant-garage-sale category. But if I don’t keep it, what do I do? Probably go to IKEA and buy something tasteless? Oh, wurra wurra.

Game

Anyway, off to cheer Stanford WBB on against Cal.

Day 59, a button and a money rethink

Monday, 1/28/2019

Started with a run, which was ok. Then ran a string of errands: to DiMartini’s for some fruit; stop at Trader Joe’s; stop at JoAnne’s Crafts; Piazza for a few other groceries. Wait, crafts?

My favorite jacket has a broken button. I’ve been keeping the jacket alive for years; in 2017 the lining started to fall apart and I paid to have it relined, as the shell is fine. I’ve replaced buttons on it before, the buttons on the cuffs tend to snag on things. Just as I decided to do something about this broken one, I realized that our collection of spare buttons went off in the sewing box that, along with the sewing machine, I gave away yesterday. There was probably a match for this button in it, but now it’s gone. Well, it’s not an odd button, I’ll get another. And I did, going into the craft store near Trader Joe’s, 5 minutes looking through the button racks, there was a card with buttons close enough to the originals. I spent longer waiting in line to check out than I did finding the button.

Home, put away groceries, sewed on new button. Fortunately I did not give away all the sewing equipment. There was a separate drawer where the pincushion, scissors, a few spools of thread lived. I actually had the thought yesterday to gather those up and dump them in the sewing kit, but decided no, hang onto basic tools I might use. And the next day I used them.

Money money money

While driving along earlier I’d been mentally reviewing what I wanted to talk about with our financial advisors — excuse me, my financial advisors — when we meet in March as scheduled. The most pressing issue I thought of was to address the change in income. In round numbers, Marian and I had a combined income of about $6000/month. Her social security and IBM pension were both higher than mine. Now that she’s gone, my monthly income is about $2000. But my expenses are only slightly reduced. (Food a bit less, one less person wanting shoes and clothing and books, etc., but those don’t add up to $500 per month. Utilities, insurance, maintenance all continue virtually unchanged.)

I’d got that far in my thinking when I realized that for at least two decades we had been living on that combined income and it had been just right: money out was usually equal to money in. If we took a trip or made some other big purchase we’d move money in from one of the investment accounts. But we never moved money back to an investment account. Net cash flow pretty close to zero.

Now, I realize, my net cash flow is roughly negative $3500/month. I’m not worried by this; I have ample reserves to make up the difference for many years to come. The question for the advisors will be, what accounts to take it from, and at what intervals. However, this realization that we’d been spending just what we made at $6000/month cast a whole new light on the analysis I made on Day 43.

Staying, Going

Back on Day 43 I did a rough calculation of how much it cost me to live right here, and I came to a number of $25,000 per year. But that can’t be right! Because for the past two decades Marian and I have been living right here and spending $72,000 a year, the amount of our combined pensions. We are not known for riotous living, either. No big parties. And the major vacations, and the two cars we bought over that span, were paid for out of investment accounts, not by saving up. So when I figured my cost of living I was low by a factor of almost three. I had to have been! Where did I go wrong?

Well, never mind that; what about the sticker shock I got, when I thought about the monthly costs of ILFs? They looked so expensive in comparison; the least expensive charging double what I thought I could live on.

They don’t look so expensive now, do they? As a couple we were living modestly on $6000/month. As a bachelor, history says I would need only a bit less, say $5000/month.

What does a 1BR unit at Channing House cost? $4650/month.

Hmmmm. Not such a rip-off after all.

Pulling chains

Sent some emails to people to remind them I’m waiting. To my niece to see if she wanted the china set. (She quickly replied with an apology, and no, they can’t use it.) To a friend who had a friend who might be able to appraise Marian’s jewelry. To a friend who has a friend at Webster house.

And a second email to the gallery in Monterey that I contacted on Day 53. You send an email using their web form, and you get a cheerful automated reply, “We’ll get right back to you.” But they don’t. I’m really forming a bad opinion of the art gallery business.

Computer stuff

Spent some time working on the computer. I need to transfer my game to Windows and package it there. I run Windows in a virtual machine in my “big” Mac system. But it’s been months since I fired up the virtual machines, and of course now Windows wants to update itself with months of maintenance. After the usual amount of fiddle-faddle and rebooting I got the job done, a working game on Windows.

Day 57, museum, inspection, sale, play

Last night was the second time I’ve gone to a highschool game to see a future Stanford player. The last was on Day 33, to see Hanna Jump play at Pinewood. This trip was to Mitty HS in San Jose to see Haley Jones , considered the #1 recruit in the nation for the class of 2019. She was impressive for sure. Surprisingly for a 6-1 player (tall for high school) she ran the point most of the time, but also penetrated to score under the basket, and had lots of rebounds, too. Coincidentally the little group of 8 or 9 Stanford fans had picked an historic night to watch her. During the third quarter she broke the Mitty High record for career points scored, a 28-year-old record that had been set by — wait for it — Kerry Walsh, better known today as a many-time Olympic Beach Volleyball champion.

On the way back, Harriet and I talked about senior living issues. It developed that she has a friend who recently moved into Webster House, another ILF that I’m interested in. (It’s just on the opposite side of University Avenue from Channing House.) She is going to find out if her friend would be willing to show me around there.

Saturday, 1/26/2019

Went to CHM for the second Saturday in a row, to lead a tour of SCU students. Didn’t bore them too much, I think. Back home and changed to normal clothes; and went off to eyeball three ILFs located North of me, starting with

Voralto Belmont

I think this may have been a mistake by Alan, because the Voralto site says it offers “Concierge-Level Assisted Living & Private-Pay Skilled Nursing” — no mention of independent living. It’s an odd place, built like a castle on top of a steep knoll above Ralston Avenue. Down below, around Ralston and El Camino, there are plenty of restaurants, a Safeway, a Walgreen’s. It’s not a pleasant neighborhood, with six lanes of traffic intersecting four lanes, but there are lots of services. I am amused by the website linked above, which gushes that the Voralto (I keep trying to write Voltron) is

just steps from the Cal Train station, El Camino Real, HWY 101, Downtown Belmont,… within a minute’s walk from the many fine dining restaurants and boutique shops that Belmont Village has to offer…

The first 200 or so of those steps (and the final 200 returning) are on a very steep street with an elevation gain of at least 50 feet. Once on the flat, it is only a couple tenths of a mile to Caltrain, and there are quite a few local restaurants, if you want to call Panda Express “fine dining”.

Anyway, I think the Voltron is off my list because it isn’t really Independent Living. Next up was

Peninsula Regent

in San Mateo. The Peninsula Regent is a buy-in community: you buy a condominium apartment and then pay a monthly fee for food and services. In theory at least, you or your heirs will be able to sell your condo. (The website mentions the staff includes “licensed Realtors to help in purchasing or selling your membership and condominium”)

My first visual impression was of an old, respectable hotel. I mentally guessed it was of the 1950s. (I note the website has pictures only of interiors.) I didn’t take a picture but here’s a screen grab from Google Street View:

pregent

(The scaffolding is no longer there.) The impression is of a stately hotel of the last century. In fact, per the website, it went up in 1986, so not so old. Does that mean it is seismically safe? It offers mainly independent living, but also has 20 assisted living units. It is not clear how that transition is handled, if it can be temporary, etc. No skilled nursing.

Then I explored the neighborhood. It is located just outside San Mateo’s very pleasant downtown, ‘B’ street. What a nice walkable neighborhood! Not quite as nice as University Ave in Palo Alto but quite pleasant. My next stop was almost exactly as far from the town center at 2nd and ‘B’ but on the opposite side,

The Stratford

which is very similar. The Stratford describes itself as “a beautiful, 11-story condominium building… has the distinct look and feel of a 5-star hotel.” That’s the first impression it makes to the eye: a grand hotel of the last century. Like the Regent, their website doesn’t show any exteriors. Here’s a street view grab:

stratford

As a location, this is very good, just a couple blocks from that nice downtown and facing a park. Just like the Regent, it claims to have assisted living but not skilled nursing. In fact this and the Peninsula Regent are kind of twins in location, facilities, and price.

And probably too expensive for me. But I enjoyed looking at them. Then home to do a blog post. Later, I have a ticket for “Shakespeare in Love” at the Peninsula Theater.

Day 54, haircut and FOPAL

Wednesday, 1/23/2019

Went for a run in the chilly morning. At 11, departed to get a haircut from Chris, just like on Day 18. There was this difference: as I pulled into the Ladera Shopping Center parking lot, I automatically scanned for open slots near to the top — just as I had twenty or more times over the last two years or so, parking to minimize the distance for Marian to walk. And suddenly realized, wait a minute: I can walk just fine. I don’t need to park close to the entrance. I can sashay across the length of the parking lot with no difficulty. And pulled into the first available spot.

Claiming my new life. I never felt any resentment at Marian’s limited mobility, or the limitations it forced on us both. If I thought about it at all, I admired her matter-of-fact, dignified acceptance. This is how I am now, was her attitude, and this is how we deal with it. Parking close to your destination, avoiding stairs, skipping activities that needed many steps — these was just ways the partnership operated.

But I’m living a new life now, and it has pluses and minuses. One of the advantages is that I no longer need to compromise with limited mobility. (Well, for now. How long will I be freely mobile?) Today I consciously realized that advantage.

I loaded two cartons of books and went to FOPAL where I sorted for 2 and a half hours. Afterward I drove down to say hello to Jean. I took a bag of books. When she was at the house last, she took all of Marian’s Tory Hayden books (Hayden wrote books about saving troubled children). Well, that was a genre that Marian had loved. Cleaning out the next shelf I found another dozen books of a similar kind by other authors. Now I brought that bag of books to her and we chatted a bit.

Day 53, Pasta and Chateau Cup.

Tuesday, 1/22/2019

A chilly morning by California standards, 42º at 8am, and I was pretty cold as I walked to the Y in my shorts and a light jacket. Did my round and walked back, not stopping at the coffee shop (for once).

Passed the time waiting for the cleaning lady to show, shopping for a dash cam for the Prius. This is in line with my decision of way back there, to keep the Prius indefinitely (it has 57K miles now, and I doubt very much I’ll ever see 100K; and many of these “gen 3” Prii go 150-200K before needing a battery). If I’m keeping it, I might as well upgrade it a bit. Hence the dash cam. Yelp seems to agree that the best shop for this is one in Belmont. Maybe Friday I’ll drive up there.

Once Suli arrived and started work, I headed out to do things. First a stop at Fedex on California to fax a signed paper requested by our broker. Then to a car wash to get the Prius cleaned up. And then down to Cupertino to do a drive-by of Chateau Cupertino, the low-price leader among the list Alan compiled for me. At $3500/month they are the least expensive of the month-to-month places. As such they deserve a look-see and maybe a proper tour if I like the outside.

Alas, I didn’t like the outside. They are pretty close to the corner of De Anza and Stevens Creek, in an area filled with fairly new, multi-story condos and offices. The building itself has no charm; while not ugly, it is not a place I’d be pleased to come home to or to bring a guest to. Although their website claims that “Residents enjoy local mall shopping and restaurants of every flavor” in fact it’s more than half a mile to the nearest restaurant (The Counter) or coffee shop (Philz). I drove around a bit but the ambience was not pleasant. It would be no fun to walk these streets, even the smaller ones, never mind 6-lane De Anza or Stevens Creek.

Back home, I refreshed the hummingbird feeders. The plastic flowers on the three feeders are getting tatty, petals falling off etc. If I was staying I’d buy new feeders, but ISMISEP.

Then I tackled the shelf full of canisters of assorted pastas and grains that I mentioned yesterday. The concept that I’ll probably never cook another meal is not one of the things I had realized before Marian’s death. I’d anticipated a lot of things, but that aspect came as a surprise. Yet it follows inexorably from being single. I am feeding myself properly (weight stable at 175, no beri-beri yet) but I spend at most ten minutes preparing food; that’s how long it takes to mix up a tuna salad, or to fry two strips of bacon and scramble an egg in the grease while peeling an orange. Or I go out. And of course in an ILF the food is made for you.

Which leaves me with a full set of cooking utensils and a big accumulation of ingredients. The dry foods shelf had a dozen canisters: barley, couscous, lentils, at least six kinds of pasta, dried potato flakes. Microwave popcorn. I cleaned it all out, dumped the food into green bio-bags and put them in the green bin. Put the canisters into the dishwasher and ran it. They’ll go in the Great Garage Sale that I anticipate will happen sometime later in the spring. There was some emotion at dropping yet another shard of the old life, but there was a kind of triumph in it, too. Cleaning out. Making space. Along the same lines, I think I’ll go pack up two boxes of books to take to FOPAL tomorrow.

Realized that it’s been more than a week since Day 46 when I spoke to the owner of the gallery in Carmel about selling my Linsky painting. And he hasn’t replied. I wonder how he stays in business? Because frankly, he behaves like a jerk. How could I trust somebody to handle the sale of (what I believe should be) a $6000 painting, when that person doesn’t reply to emails or return phone calls? So there is a second gallery mentioned on Linsky’s website. I check their site and see that one of the principals is named Simic. One supposes this is somehow connected to the now-departed Simic Gallery where we bought the painting in the first place. I emailed them.

Day 51, coffee hissy fit, ILF drive-by

Sunday, 1/20/2019

Did the NYT big puzzle in record time, 26:19, yay me. I’m using a new approach to crosswords and it is working well.

Headed out at 8am for coffee. Drove to Baron Barista, because it’s close to The Avant on El Camino, which I want to eyeball. Alas, at 8:15 they were very apologetic that their pastry order hadn’t arrived. As an almond croissant was the whole purpose of my visit, I smiled and said “sorry, bye”. Just down the street was a Starbucks. It’s an odd one, squeezed into a building that’s the shape of a skinny wedge of cheese. For some reason they have tinted windows with shades pulled down. It was almost too dark to read the paper. But they displayed almond croissants so I ordered one and a, quote, “Grande Dry Cappuccino”. The dude leans down and gets the pastry from below the counter and it’s wrapped in cellophane. Sigh, ok, I don’t complain. I pay and find a table with a little light and put down my paper and my hat and my jacket. And wait. There’s two guys and neither doing any coffee-related activity. Finally the one guy brings out my coffee, which was nice of him, except when I pick it up, it weighs at least 8 ounces, it’s two-thirds full. I don’t say anything but I am fuming inside. If I wanted a fucking latte I would have ordered a fucking cup of hot milk with a dash of coffee, I think. And then, why am I here? To eat a stale pastry and have a coffee I don’t want? And I put on my coat and pick up my paper and start quietly out, quickly walk back and pick up my hat, and leave and drive to my usual P.A. Cafe in Midtown, thinking on the way what a gem of a place it is. The staff have been there forever; they bake all their pastries on site; they make your drinks as you request them. It gets noisy, true, but that’s because it’s a success and people love it.

After reading the paper I drive by

the Avant

It’s the place that charges $4000 more per month than several other ILFs including Channing House. I am not impressed with the exterior, other than a nice entry, the side exposures look like a motel. I don’t see the extra money on the outside, anyway. I wonder if they charge extra for off-street parking? Well, I’ll never find out, because I am verifying it is much too far from the nearest shopping street. It’s a good half-mile to California Avenue. So it fails at my first requirement. Which is a bit of a relief, frankly. I can finally stop wondering how they justify their rates.

I drive that half-mile to El Camino at Oregon, park, and walk around

Sunrise Palo Alto

an ILF that (I only now notice) also advertises “a special community for the memory impaired”. In fact, looking now at their web page, they really don’t bill themselves for IL, but rather for “personalized living options” and “continuing care”. Which I read as, more for the sick and the feeble, less for the independent.

Sunrise is a month-to-month place which — I only just now realized from Alan’s info sheet — also charges $8200/month for a 1BR unit. Oof! Well, to the eye it’s a decent looking building, fairly new. (Looks a little more like $8k than the Avant.) The ground-floor street corner is a large dining room. There are only a couple of people visible in it. The windows on the next corner reveal what is clearly the staff break room with several nurse-looking types chatting around a table. There appears to be an underground garage. Frankly, Channing House is looking better all the time. Well, time to head off to

Basketball

The Cardinal women dominated WSU behind a career performance from Alanna Smith. Back home I polished up three remaining loose ends in my game. Next time I work on it, it will be package it as a stand-alone app.

Day 45, the case for the prosecution

Tuesday, 1/15/2019

Rainy day. Drove to the Y, walked briskly on a treadmill for 20 minutes, did my strength exercises. It’s “Suli day”, that is, the day I expect our housecleaner to make her biweekly visit, so as customary I wrote her check, and stripped the bed and put the sheets to wash. On return from the Y, I made up the bed, then sat down to talk to myself about

Three AM thoughts

That’s what this blog that has almost no readers is: me talking things out to myself. Partly, I’m keeping a diary, so the days don’t dissolve into a blur. For instance I know what day I went to the City to visit the deYoung museum because it’s in here; without this record I’d have no clue. Partly, I’m writing for an imaginary audience; maybe someday there will be a real audience and I hope my experience will help somebody. But a key function is working out what I actually think about things, and as it were, fact-checking myself. That’s important, as I don’t have a sensible partner to call BS on my wilder ideas.

So at 3am I woke because the garden sprinkler system had kicked in. Water flow in the old cast-iron plumbing makes a quiet noise which is ample to keep one awake in a silent house, even if you pull the duvet over your ears. Lying there I began to recall all the things I don’t like about this house. Yes, Marian loved it. Yes, it looks adorable from the street. Yes the interior is tidy, comfortable and well-maintained. But there’s a dark side, or actually two: top and bottom. At 3am I began going over all the things that made me coin ISMISEP back on Day 4: “in six months it’s someone else’s problem”.

The bill of indictment starts with that watering system that was part of an expensive, complete overhaul of the landscaping in 2012. Well, the drip piping is ok, it’s the controller I dislike. Horrible user interface. I’ve asked Richard, our gardener, to suggest an alternative but he hasn’t found one. Besides the controller, some of the plants that went in then have died, or are struggling, as well as some that Marian ordered and planted since. There is a line of trumpet vines along the fence, plants that flourish in tropical luxuriance four doors down the street, that are barely clinging to life here. I don’t have any interest in diving into the Sunset Garden Book to try to figure out replacements, or in trudging through nurseries picking out plants. It pleases me to think that ISM the whole landscape will be SEP.

The garage! When the house was built in 1925 it was OK to put a detached garage up against the property line in the corner of the lot. This building is heavily eaten by termites, but its most striking feature is the floor. It’s a 6-inch cement slab that was laid directly on adobe clay. Adobe moves, it swells in winter and shrinks in summer. The garage floor has broken into tectonic plates that lift and tilt to make enormous cracks with one- to two-inch breaks in level. There’s no practical repair; if I tried to take out a permit for any work on it, the city would make me demolish it and build one properly set back from the line. So it’s a storage space for now, but come the earthquake (or if the termites ever stop holding hands) it will collapse in a heap.

That’s outside; then there’s underneath. This nearly-100-year-old building is on a low cement foundation. Under the floors is a pitch-black space with barely 18″ between the joists and the damp adobe. That’s where the cast-iron drains and plumbing run, that make interesting water-hammer noises while the sprinklers are on. I last poked my head under there last year, reaching in to set a rat-trap, smelling the dampness. Decades back I crawled the whole length, running speaker wires to the corners of the living room so I could have surround-sound. Not again! I hate that space.

Topside is no better. Above the middle third of the house is an attic space that can be reached with difficulty by bringing a ladder into a closet. It’s hot in summer, cold in winter, and in the past has been invaded by roof rats, attested by fossilized droppings. A long time ago the City of Palo Alto subsidized anyone who’d get insulation blown into their attic space, and we did, so the space has what looks like a six-inch fall of gray snow. It’s quite effective as insulation, but it makes me nervous because it drifted over several runs of the original knob-and-tube electrical wiring. Just the antique wiring makes me nervous (and would cost a ton to replace), but having it covered in processed newsprint is not an improvement.

The stuff also makes cozy nesting for rats. I was last up there early last year, because we were hearing in the night the telltale chomping and scuttling sounds of rats settling in above us. I set out a bunch of traps, and renewed the steel wool chinking in the couple of holes in the foundation through which I think they gain entry. And it worked; I’ve not heard any rodent noises in months. But I hate that attic space. If I hear rats again, I’d have to go up there and retrieve the traps with (probably) mummified rat corpses in them, and clean and bait them and set them out again.

It pleases me to think that ISM the crawl space, the attic, the ancient wiring, and the rats could be SEP. Or more likely, bulldozed to make way for a new house. I’ve mentioned the appliances: the refrigerator, washer, dryer, dishwasher, and the A/C are all approaching the end of their expected life-spans. ISM they too can be SEP.

In years past, I gave serious thought to replacing this house myself: moving out to a rental and hiring an architect and a contractor to demolish the building and put up a new one that would recall the modest charm of the original but with modern construction and a bit more space. OK, that is not going to happen now. I have no interest in embarking on an 18- to 24-month home building project, let alone spending half or more of the old Nest Egg on it.

At the end of day 43 I asked myself, “Is it worth $25K a year for a fresh start?” or, what if I just stayed put and spent that much money here?

The answer is, no amount of piecemeal spending could relieve my 3am worries about the fabric of this place; and frankly I am not up for any amount of remodeling, which in my experience is always a vast amount of trouble and frustration.

So, yeah, if a fresh start in a pleasant place where I have zero worries about building maintenance, appliance repair, or landscaping — if that costs $25K extra a year, it’s probably worth it.

Day 43, Should I stay or should I go?

Welp, it was only slightly better than a hamburger. I started for Castro street (aka restaurant row) in Mountain View, thinking to go to Casa Lupe, a modest little Mexican café that we went to many times. Except approaching it, it occurs to me that I’ll likely be recognized by the waitress that served us many times over the years, and I don’t want to answer the inevitable question. And in fact I don’t want to go to where we went as a couple many times, including, I realized, the last or nearly last time Marian was able to go out to a restaurant.

So there I was wandering down Castro and more or less at random picked a modern Indian casual place where I ordered chicken curry and naan. The waiter wanted to know how spicy, and I said, oh, medium. Whoa. I do not want to know what that cook thought was really spicy, because the dish I got was barely edible, and I usually enjoy hot food. Anyway, back home, watched a little TV, got a serious case of the yawns about 9pm and went to bed, knowing it would mean being up early on Sunday morning.

Sunday, 1/13/2019

And was: up and dressed and had finished the NYT puzzle (38:40, not too far off my average) by 7:30. Out to the old coffee shop with the winter sun just up, shining through broken clouds. Walked along being very consciously aware, in the moment, apprehending the air and the light and my body, thinking, “this is me, this is mine,” deliberately claiming life as a solo person.

And of course I was home again with plenty of time on my hands before I was due to meet Dennis for a movie at 1pm. In the email was the info from Alan that I requested yesterday, on three additional independent living facilities (ILFs, henceforth).

I added their numbers to my document and then made up a little table of their monthly rentals on a 1BR unit, which range from a low of $3200 to a high of $8800.

Given those numbers, it appears that a ballpark estimate of the annual cost of living in an ILF is $60,000, give or take. $45,000 minimum. And when I think about that, I hear The Clash in my mind,

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

I sat at the desk going through the check register and the online bill-pay record for the past 12 months, making an estimate of what it costs to live for a year in this fully-paid-for suburban home. In very round numbers: utilities $4K, insurance $4K (earthquake insurance is a bitch), maintenance including gardener, another $4K, taxes $2K (thank you Prop. 13!). Allowing a very generous $30/day for food adds $11K. So a ballpark estimate to merely stay put is $25,000 per annum, or about one-half the annual cost of an ILF.

Hmmmm…

The decision to “not be a home-owner” was one of the first conclusions I came to when I began thinking about my future as a widower, months before the event. I felt tired of having the responsibility of worrying about building and appliance maintenance and taxes and insurance.

Wanting a fresh start, too; to force a break with the past and to begin a new form of life with minimum baggage.

Is it worth $25K a year for a fresh start?

Or, here’s another way to think about it: apparently I’m willing to consider spending $60K/year for a residence and food. What could I have, if I stayed put and spent the other $35,000 right here? That much money would buy all-new appliances and an upgraded car — and that’s in just the first year.

Hmmmmm…. This indecision’s bugging me… don’t know whom I’m sposed to be…

To be continued.