Fall, not autumn.

Life continues to be rich and fall . . . er, rich and full, . . . in the Miser Family household.  The calendar says we've come into autumn, but the trees in our neighborhood are still a vibrant green, and so our Family Fun Foto theme this week is "Fall, not Autumn".

So, as you see in the top row, if you fall, you get squash(ed).  (Amelia, on her way to the vet, sports a pumpkin-themed bandana; warm wishes, Amelia!).   We've got waterfalls . . . .  including a knitted sock taking a selfie by a waterfall, and also including a waterfall into which somebody's phone did fall, right after taking the photo.  Whoops!

The middle row kind-of-shows "don't fall".  Y writes, "It feels bizarre to know that it's technically Fall but everything about Sedona Desert look like high summer- from native flowers blooming, olive trees fruiting, and transplanted palms challenging the sky scrapers of downtown Phoenix."   A-child demonstrates not-falling in a variety of adventurous activities, and L2 hopes the pins will fall.  

And in the final row:  B-child demonstrates "fall asleep"; we feature matching "hers-and-his" elbow x-rays from different bicycle falls.  And of course, there's The Fall (with thanks to N-son for loaning us his beloved stuffed "Snakey" as a prop).

The national news is full of stories about illness; in a somewhat more obscure corner of the hullabaloo, my main running buddy texted me one night this week to say,

I am not going to run tomorrow. I have shingles which is seems like such an old persons disease

In my usual sympathetic way I wrote back,

I wish you had bad acne instead, because at least that would feel like a YOUNG person's disease.

But the exchange reminded me that I'd gotten round 1 of the Shingles vaccine back in December, and still needed round 2.  I popped over to our local pharmacy, with loaded me up with both shingles and flu sera, and now I'm a tad achy and feeling a little more invincible.  

Between (a) the ritual of 285 questions that precede giving blood, (b) the daily COVID-era check-in criteria my College asks me to monitor daily, and (c) the list of questions I had to answer to get my vaccines, I've been reminded constantly of all the terrible maladies which have not beset me.  Stoics talk about negative visualization; I'm reminded of my incredibly good fortune, health-wise, by an abundance of negative interrogation.

And on another topic entirely,  below I introduce the first in a series of "what are they doing now?" interviews with the Cast and Characters of the Miser Family.  We kick off with a guy who, 24 years ago this week, I agreed to marry.  My sister very reasonably worried that I was rushing into things and wondered about professional intervention; she told me that her psychiatrist told her, "Miser Mom is too happy for counseling".  I've treasured that whole story: that my sister worried for me; that she decided to support me anyway . . . and that the story has turned out to have an almost Fairy-tale-like happiness to it ever after.   Here's a bit of what my guy is up to these days.  

Interview with Mr. Miser Mom (who is not a Miser).

What things were you doing a year ago that you're not doing now?

 The daily training [bicycle] ride led by Scott [BikeRider], five days a week since 1981. The only other time it stopped was for five weeks in 2003 when Scott was recovering from a broken hip. When I got back from my last trip [to Israel, in early 2020], Scott stopped riding two days later because of COVID. Now he does not come to the city regularly, so riding with him means riding nine miles just to meet up. He may come into town a couple of times a week and ride the daily 35-mile route, but the tradition of daily riding ended with COVID. 

What occupies your days, nowadays?  (Sometimes people ask, "what do you do?", meaning, "what's your job?", but many people in our family don't have traditional jobs or paid employment at all, so this is a more general question).  

Four book discussion groups: 

a.     The ESL group that reads about anything related to human nature and spirituality;

b.     The World Conquest Book Club;

c.     The Evolution Roundtable, and

d.     Brother Timotheus (my best friend Cliff—we were roommates in Cold War Germany in the 70s. He stayed in Germany and is a monk at the Land of Kanaan monastery), and Dmitri (a resident of Kanaan but not a Kanaan Brother) and I are reading a book about Evangelicals supporting Trump.

Tell me a bit about your hobbies

books, bikes, writing, protesting.

When you treat yourself to a bit of "me" time or special indulgences, what does that involve for you?  

since riding is now alone, riding in fantastic places and eating wonderful food. New York City bridges and restaurants, upstate New York and Mid-State Pa mountains.

Five years from now, what kinds of things do you hope you'll be doing that you haven't done yet or aren't doing now? 

Riding in Africa and Asia. Leaving protesting behind because of the boring, competent leadership of America at every level.  Going to Synagogue and not even thinking about social distancing! Once I ride in Africa I want to write a book about riding all over the world. And maybe write a book about my love/hate relationship with the Army.

Describe some of your favorite household gadgets or treasures. 

• Instant Pot Air Fryer, 
• silent dishwasher, 
• the enormous mirror in the living room that I look into after I meditate and particularly contemplate the colors I see: the yellow walls the shiny wood floor and stair railings, the funny and beautiful purple bicycle chandelier and how Miser Mom has made our very ordinary row house into something unique and charming.

Are there any questions I should have asked you, but didn't? 

1.  "What products do you use to get that perfect, radiant hair color?"

2.  I get asked almost weekly how I can be so happy with my life in the midst of all that is wrong with the world.  In the midst of the turbulent world that spins at an increasing speed possibly toward the ruin of a stolen election, I do not live at the edge of the wheel, but with Miser Mom right at the hub of the wheel. No matter how fast the world spins, our home is a place of peace and quiet and love. Unlike so many people, I am not living in constant stress. It is a blessing I would wish for everyone—but at their own place, not at our house. 

And that's the news from our family, which continues to be wealthy in our adventures. May you and yours be similarly prosperous.