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Three 50-word stories about my walk around the Village District this Sunday.

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Open on the sabbath?
I went to my library on Sunday to return 2 books in the outside book-return receptacles and was shocked to learn it was open on Sundays! I knew that branch was open on Saturdays, but I had no idea it was open on Sundays, too. Sometimes, it’s the little things.
What’s in a name?
Having had 2 beloved cocker spaniels, they have a special place in my heart. From a distance, I saw a store sign that said, “Village Spanials,” and missing the misspelling, I thought, “What??? There’s an oddly specific pet store here now?” Closer, it turned out to be “Village Spa Nails.”
Who knew from a wine bar?
The restaurant that last July opened in the former location of Cafe Carolina, billed as a “wine bar,” has never caught my attention since I don’t drink wine. But today, the name Postino, certainly did grab my attention, since we recently ate at one in Scottsdale, Arizona and loved it.

Why I don’t get “bored in retirement”

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People ask me how I don’t get bored during retirement, and when I say I’m on my computer at least 8 hours a day, it seems hard to believe. Well, this is a typical morning, which can take up at least 2-3 hours:

Doing morning brain teasers:

AARP crossword puzzle
L.A.Times crossword puzzle
NYT Strands game
NYT Connections game
NYT Wordle game

Next in my routine are visiting these websites:

Check our Google calendar for the day’s commitments
Check today’s to-do list in my iPhone Reminders app
Review our checking account activity
Update my sentence-a-day diary
Check my wait-listed library books for movement
Check the morning’s stock market activity
See what my exercise check-in is for today
Read the day’s TLDR newsletter
Check the daily BookCrossing releases
Check my daily BookBub email for free e-books

I do things like this on the computer throughout the rest of the day:

And usually, I spend my evenings reading. As of today, I’ve read 30 books so far this year.

I have had it handled

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Recently, like in the last month or so, these painful nodules popped up on the end of the middle and index fingers on my left hand.

A trip to the Raleigh Hand-to-Shoulder Center diagnosed them as mucous cysts, also known as ganglion cysts, and yesterday I had them removed.

They have to remain wrapped for 5 days, and it’s really cramping my style typing.

I am dictating what I want to say into an iNote on my phone and then cutting and pasting the resulting text into this blog entry. I will not be deterred.

Three 50-word stories about our recent trip to Scottsdale.

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The Michaelses The birthday boy The Thompsons & Stoimenoffs
We had dinner with our friends Sherry and Fred at Baby Kay’s Cajun Kitchen in Mesa, AZ. John and Sherry met on an ambassadorial trip in October of 2008 to Beijing, Guilin, and Shanghai. We don’t see each other #IRL often, but like this time, it’s always a great visit. My husband’s brother, Tommy, celebrated his 75th birthday, and we flew in to attend a surprise party for him. His brother Jimmy and his wife Cindy hosted the gala, and I met a nephew for the first time who also flew in for the occasion. Bob made the birthday cake. We met grade-school friends of my husband for lunch one day. I was Facebook friends with one of them, so it was great to meet her in person. Bob and I enjoyed a bruschetta board, which was fantastic — second only to the company we enjoyed dining al fresco at Postino’s.

Three 50-word stories about diverse books I’m currently reading.

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Gay trash Asian literature African American picture book
Notes of Unspoken Words is a gay romance novel. The description of it had 2 acronyms in it that I had to look up — MMM and HEA. This is only the 2nd gay romance novel I’ve ever read — the other one being of the oddly specific genre gay Amish romance. Greek Lessons is classified as Asian literature about a student who has lost her voice connecting with a teacher who is losing his sight. The book won the 2024 Nobel Prize in Literature, and it was named Best Book of 2023 by both Time magazine and The New Yorker magazine. Dream a Dress, Dream a Poem: Dressmaker and Poet, Myra Viola Wilds is a beautifully illustrated picture book about the titular African American poet. After losing her eyesight due to overwork as a dressmaker — who made gorgeous hand-stitched gowns — she hand-wrote the culturally important poetry collection, Thoughts of Idle Hours.

Three 50-word stories about Bob’s award-winning entries in our annual neighborhood chili party.

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2015 2020 2025
The theme of the event was “Eat Local Chili,” Bob named his entry, “Bob’s Beanless Batch,” and he won 3rd place vegetarian even though there was turkey in it — oops! (A judging snafu.) I don’t like beans, so he made the bold choice to make and enter one without them. The theme was “Passport to Chili,” Bob named his entry, “PORCH-uguese Chili,” and he won 3rd place in the meat category. The name of his chili was inspired by the fact that the entries in crockpots are placed on tables on the Watkins’ wraparound porch, and me being half Portuguese. The theme was “Dune: The Spice Must Flow,” Bob named his entry, “Howya Dune?” and he won 3rd place in the meat category. The name was inspired by the fact that Bob is Irish, “Howya” is how the Irish say, “How are you?” and “Dune” is intimating the word “doing?”

See short blog entry about this year’s win, which includes Bob’s medals and a haiku he wrote about winning.

Three 50-word stories answering some “questions to ponder.1“

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What do I not need? What is not wrong? What do I not understand?
Here are the top-4 things I do not need, with the one I do not need the most first. 1) To ever relocate — love our house. 2) A retirement job — not bored, don’t need extra cash. 3) Another food to like — like plenty. 4) More age-related aches and pains — sucks. Things in my life that are not wrong include: 1) My choice of a mate. 2) The relief from back pain I’ve enjoyed for a year-and-a-half. 3) The number of friends I have. 4) The result of “planning for retirement.” 5) The number of vacations I take in a year. There are so many things: 1) Why men discard chewing gum in urinals. 2) What the draw is of violence and chase scenes in movies. 3) Our U.S. tax code. 4) How the proof for “1+1=2” can be 300 pages long.2 5) How a stationary car’s wheels can still turn.

Sources:

Three 50-word stories about my sources for free books.

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The library BookBub Amazon Prime
The last book I purchased was White Fragility in 2020. I borrow most of the books I read each year from the Wake County Public Library. I’ve added a field to my list of books that I’ve read in 2025 to indicate where I got the book and its format. BookBub is a service that alerts you to cheap or free downloads of ebooks on amazon.com. I only get one that sounds interesting if it’s free — or once I got a $1.99 one for free with a balance on an amazon.com gift card I’d earned participating in a focus group. I get free book downloads from two services available as an Amazon Prime member. At the beginning of each month First Reads presents 9 or so free books to choose one — and sometimes two — from, and Prime Reading lets you borrow up to 10 ebooks or audiobooks at a time.

Three 50-word stories about themed movie posters in our dining room.

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We have these 3 movie posters hanging in our dining room, with a meal-times theme to them.


Breakfast at Tiffany’s Naked Lunch Dinner at Eight
This 1961 movie’s claim to fame is Mickey Rooney’s beyond-cringeworthy portrayal of “Mr. Yunioshi,” which catapults it to the top of “movies that didn’t age well” lists. I read the book, by Truman Capote, and I was stunned that they could make a 2-hour movie out of a 179-page book. I refer to this 1981 movie as “the weirdest f*cking movie I’ve ever seen.” William S. Borroughs, who wrote the book it’s based on, said people’s opinion about the book included: “Disgusting!” “Pornographic, un-American trash!” “Unpublishable!” He adds: “So Hollywood, in all its wisdom, made it into a movie.” This classic 1933 movie had a tagline that stated: “MORE STARS THAN HAVE EVER BEEN IN ANY PICTURE BEFORE. The biggest film sensation in 10 years!” The trailer describes a gentleman “who has outlived everything but his vanity,” and a lady “who would sacrifice everything to give a society dinner.”

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Three 50-word stories about “the nosy neighbor.”

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The trope An instance A good fit
The “nosy neighbor” is a well-known, and some would argue, timeworn trope in entertainment. Some say it’s time to jettison the archetype altogether. Others argue they represent real-life people and should stay — but “be ‘relatable’ and ‘3D’ while serving their purpose.” Lamentably, it’s women most often portraying this character type. Arguably, Gladys Kravitz from Bewitched, is the most famous “nosy neighbor.” One present-day meme describes her as “The Original Doorbell Camera.” She was a grotesquely stereotyped shrewish gossip — always on the lookout for delicious secrets and rumors by peering suspiciously around her living-room window curtains at least once an episode. Crime fiction is a genre in which nosy neighbors thrive — busybodies, gossips, sleuths. They’re the busybody who, over their morning coffee, witnesses a murder while spying on the house next door, and the town gossip who realizes there’s something not right about the family down the block and relentlessly snoops.

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Three 50-word stories about overworked, multiple-domain patron saints.

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St. Lidwina Wilgefortis (a quasi saint) St. Isadore
The patron saint of chronic illnesses and ice-skaters. Ice skating at 15, she broke a rib and sustained a head injury leading to the progressive paralysis of her entire body, and putting her into a deep depression. After a life-long battle with illness, she died at the age of 53. The patron saint of facial hair and gender-fluid people. She grew a beard to make herself repulsive to a king she was being forced to marry — and took a vow of virginity. Enraged, her father crucified her. She’s considered a “folk saint,” especially by women seeking to escape abusive husbands. The patron saint of students, computer users, computer technicians, programmers, and the Internet. Isadore’s knowledge of encyclopedias morphed into the internet, seen as the modern encyclopedia of universal knowledge. I can only imagine the conflicting emotions of becoming a saint only to be assigned to the I.T. helpdesk for eternity.

Source: Engelbrecht, M. (2024, August 7). Catholicism: The 10 most Unusual Patron Saints. The•Collector. https://www.thecollector.com/unusual-patron-saints/

Three 50-word stories about Bob’s morning routine—all done before I even get up.

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“Solitary” Connections Crosswords
“I won my Solitary game on the first try today,” he says as I’m pouring my coffee. “It was one of those games where the cards just all fall into place, and you’re done.” He’s referring to the card game solitaire — the only game in town according to The Carpenters. Typically, I do Connections just after midnight when the new one comes out. I show my results to him when I get to the breakfast table. He gets out his worksheet, and we compare our journeys to the answers. “I got blue, green, purple, then yellow,” he says comparing them. “I gave myself a B+ today,” he reports. He is referring to the L.A. Times crossword puzzle that I printed and left at his place at the kitchen table to complete his morning routine. His grading rubric is loosely based on how many answers involve having to look up something.

Three 50-word stories about the nuanced difference between flotsam and jetsam.

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Flotsam Jetsam Lagan & derelict
Flotsam describes debris that floats on the water that often comes from a shipwreck or accident. It may be claimed only by its original owner. A finder may hold it for salvage. If the owner does not claim the goods within a reasonable time, they then belong to the finder. Jetsam describes debris that was deliberately thrown overboard by a crew in distress, most often to lighten a vessel’s load. Jetsam may be claimed as the property of whomever discovers it. If the jetsam is valuable, the discoverer may collect the proceeds received through the sale of the salvaged objects. Cargo left behind intentionally — usually with a buoy attached — to be recovered at a later point is called “lagan,” while anything that sinks to the bottom of the ocean without any plans for recovery is described as “derelict.” These categories, along with flotsam and jetsam, are covered by maritime law.

Sources:
What are flotsam and jetsam?
What’s the Difference Between Flotsam and Jetsam?

Three 50-word stories about ejaculations comprising “gravy.”

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Good gravy! Ohmygravy! Gravy for God
I was on the phone recently with an insurance company’s customer service rep, when she made a mistake twice in a row entering something into her computer and exclaimed, “Good gravy!” It struck me, because she sounded like a young person from whom I’d more expect something like a “WTF?!?” Within just hours of that “Good gravy!” incident, a friend solved the NYT’s Wordle puzzle on the first try and shared those results on her Facebook timeline with the exclamation, “Ohmygravy!” I immediately wondered if more people say that than I think or if I was experiencing the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. Curious, of course, I did some research. According to one source, the history of saying “Good gravy“ is that it was said by those who didn’t want to utter “Good God!” and take the name of the Lord in vain, thus expressing surprise or anger without a hint of profanity.

Sources: “Good Gravy” by Lisa Adams

Three 50-word stories about getting Invisalign® braces in my 60s.

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Before During After
I had very-visible metal braces in 1986 when I was 29 years old. 35 years later, on September 30, 2021, I got new-fangled, Invisalign® braces to re-straighten my teeth. Recommended by a friend, I got them at Zaytoun Orthodontics, and the estimated time to complete my treatment was 6 months. Being the overachiever that I am, I finished in 4 months. I swear that the biggest contributor to that was using bite sticks many times a day (instead of just the recommended 3 times), because it was a satisfying substitute for biting my fingernails, which I could no longer do. I got retainers on February 3, 2022, which I’ve now been wearing for 3 years. I’ve only forgotten to wear them 3 nights (unsurprisingly, each after a night of drinking) over those 3 years, and I’ve never once done the proverbial accidentally tossing of them into a McDonald’s trash can.

Working two jobs and being judged

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I started a new job as a business analyst in a food-testing lab. I came into the break area with my lunch, and I could tell by the looks from my new, skinny colleagues that they approved of neither the amount of mayonnaise nor the mound of shredded cheese on my deep-fried chicken sandwich.

“Just so you know, we have broiled chicken sandwiches in our cafeteria,” they offered helpfully.

I explained, “I got this one at Burger King, the temporary job I had before landing this one, and where I still have a commitment of 2 more shifts before my employment ends.”

“I didn’t know Burger King hired business analysts,” one of them meowed.

“I’m not a business analyst there. I’m working the line slinging Whoppers®—some even special ordered with extra mayo, add cheese,” I hissed back. “It was my first job 45 years ago while in high school, so it all came back to me very easily, and I was immediately promoted to ‘the front board,’ where the very best sandwich makers are assigned.”

Theater-related dream

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I’m in one of those tiny university or community theaters with about only 10 rows of audience seating, and the play begins. The actor with the opening lines is not projecting very well, and the person in front of me turns around and hisses, “Turn it up!” To which I respond, “I’m a patron, not part of the stage crew.”

A minute or so later, in this opening scene, they turn up the house lights for some effect, during which a patron walks in late and takes the empty seat on the other side of the guy to the right of me. The late patron says loudly to the guy between us, “Hey! Is it Red Hat or Cisco that you work for?” to which the man whispers, “The show has already started.”

In the opening scene of the next act, a character is lying in a bed, and all of the other actors are looking at her. Nonplussed, she eventually stammers, “I’m thinking of a number…,” and another character says, “2014,” which I recognize as the Unicode representation of an em dash. Then the actor begins her part, and I realize that she had forgotten her lines and was asking for a line number in the script to remind her where they were.

It’s intermission and everyone except me leaves the theater for concessions or to use the restrooms. After about 2 minutes, no one has come back, and an usher comes in and says to me, a little annoyed, “That’s it. We’re stopping now.”

An easy-on-the-eyes eye doctor

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I had a 7:40AM appointment for my annual eye exam. Each year when I see this doctor, he takes my breath away. So devastatingly gorgeous. He sits very close to me, as he does every patient, for the tests he is performing. I find the entire experience so homoerotic.

His face is on the other side of some contraption that is currently covering my eyes. He points to his left cheek and says, “Look here at my cheek.” I’m thinking, You don’t have to tell me to look at you. Then, “Okay, up here at my forehead.” Too late; I’m already looking there. I’m looking at every inch of you. Following your every move. Look at those lips.

I imagine for a moment that there is no machine between us, and the proximity of our faces is exquisitely realized—and magnetically charged—for me. His lips are so close to mine. His thick, brown, trimmed beard and greenish-gray eyes right before me. He re-adjusts the machine now and pulls his chair up closer. Now my knees are together, and his are spread open and the outside of my knees touch the inside of his. Electric. No detectable awareness on his part.

That feeling comes over me that there is no doubt that being gay is biological. My body is responding chemically. He has no clue that he’s having this effect on me, and seems like the type that isn’t aware that he most likely has this effect on most women. Which makes him even more magnetic.

Look into my eyes. Yes!

He is asking me how bad I want this stye on my eye to go away. And then says, “For me, apply this ointment…” and I’m thinking, I’d do anything for you. “Give me five minutes with a hot compress on it two to three times a day…” he goes on. You can have five hours, five days, five lifetimes.

I start to feel like Fanny Brice and Rose Morgan. “Nicky Arnstein, Nicky Arnstein, Nicky Arnstein.” I want a mirror with two faces in it—his and mine.

Paying my bill, I eye the huge family portrait above the desk on the back wall. Seven kids. He’s so virile.

Hey Mr. Arnstein, here I am.