The healing process for my husband’s knee replacement is ongoing. Sadly, we had to cancel dinner with our son for his 25th birthday tonight, because my husband just isn’t ready for restaurants yet. There’s still a ton of pain, swelling, and stiffness, which apparently is normal at this stage (3 weeks post-op), but he’s never dealt with anything like this, so it’s pretty hard.
I decided to try a recipe I saw on NYT Cooking “most popular recipes of 2025” list—Slow Cooker Garlic Butter Chicken. It looked easy and it was. My husband loved it. He said the flavor was great and it really was. I even made my own croutons, which soaked up the delicious sauce perfectly.
New England is experiencing real “depths of winter” cold right now. (It’s giving late January vibes.) Given the very cold weather and the knee, I think this was a success. And so easy.
Next time I’ll put the croutons in the dish first to absorb as much sauce as possible 😋
Yesterday I went to a concert by the world-renowned Boston Symphony Orchestra in Boston’s historic Symphony Hall.
Boston’s Symphony Hall yesterday afternoon
My friend Eileen and I had wanted to attend this particular concert because the planned guest conductor—a young man we knew from our days working together at the Conservatory—was making his Boston debut.
AFTER we bought our tickets, we were notified that he wouldn’t be conducting due to “ the recurring effects of a shoulder injury.” Instead, 29-year old BSO Assistant Conductor Anna Handler would be making her Symphony Hall debut. OK, well at least we were seeing someone’s debut!
The first piece was “The Imagined Forest” by 31-year old British composer Grace-Evangeline Mason. It was atmospheric and beautiful.
Something about seeing these two young women—the conductor and the composer—take their bows together felt like Progress. I’ve seen plenty of women take their bows as soloists, but not as conductors and composers—the artistic leaders—at the very highest level of classical music.
There was no mention of it being a historic first or anything like that, but you could feel that the audience was 100 percent supportive. Partial standing ovation (unusual for the first piece in a concert). Many cheers.
Brava, ladies. Well done. Respect.
29-year old Anna Handler commanded the podium in a focused, confident way as she stepped in for an ailing guest conductor of one of the world’s finest symphony orchestras
This is the pic that came up today when I searched the ginormous folder on my computer for a “door.”
There was no geographic info in the file name or photo data. All I know is that it was taken with my old Canon PowerShot camera in June 2011 and that the two kids on the balcony are mine.
I had no recollection of this moment, but Google Lens figured out the location (amazing). It’s downtown Winchester, Massachusetts (my husband’s hometown). My father-in-law was alive and still living there at the time, so it makes sense.
It’s an area now called “Winchester Terrace.” AI found this photo on Apartments.com that shows the exact spot:
At the top of the staircase on the right is the spot I posed my kids in 2011.
This discovery sparked a memory of my very dear father-in-law—“Nonno” to my kids.
He was most the wonderful man who enjoyed life’s small moments like no other. Martini time, a beautiful operatic aria, an excellent meal, a grandchild’s kiss (he called it a “buzz”), a friendly joke with a stranger (especially waitresses!), and random bits of foreign languages sprinkled into any conversation. He always made me feel like the most amazing, interesting, gorgeous woman who ever lived. A true charmer. He lived well into his 90s.
A little over a year ago, I saw the Northern Lights for the first time on the way to choir practice and wrote a post about it.
Last night at about 9pm, thanks to Facebook, I was alerted that the aurora borealis was again visible in the skies above our town. Not as bright as last year, but still very cool.
Photo taken from my back porch facing northThe Northern Lights do not look as bright to the naked eye as they do in photos, but I could distinctly see both the pink and the green with my own eyes.
I texted my kids and my parents to look north and my daughter saw some beautiful pinks where she lives in southern central Massachusetts:
My father saw them for the first time in his 91 years and he was a pilot who has been to Alaska several times and also to Iceland. Here was his photo from two towns over:
Wild turkeys in my neighborhood on Halloween day, 2025
At this time of year it always strikes me as funny that flocks of wild turkeys casually walk through our suburban neighborhoods, not at all concerned with the humans who are right this minute planning their Thanksgiving dinners.
We have a woman in our church choir with dementia or Alzheimer’s (not sure of her official diagnosis). She has a lovely singing voice. In fact, she was a music teacher at one point.
But Susan (not her real name) is getting worse. She has an extremely difficult time keeping track of her sheet music and the folder it lives in. Last Sunday, as we began to warm-up before the congregation arrived, she turned to me and said, “I have no idea why I’m standing here, but I was a music teacher once.” She gets upset when she doesn’t know what’s going on. She’s never caused a scene or melted down, but her anxiety is a real issue. She needs constant reassurance. And she can get snippy with people who are trying to help her.
Her partner Jim is a nice man who has already lost both of his adult daughters to diseases. He’s doing his best, but this has got to be really tough on him.
The plan now is to make a formal schedule whereby her fellow sopranos will take turns supporting her each week, so that nobody gets stuck doing it all the time. It’s going to mean showing up early, sitting with her, making sure she has music, reassuring her throughout the rehearsal and performance, and then making sure she gets back to Jim.
To be perfectly honest, I’m not looking forward to it. I never knew this woman before she had dementia. She’s not a family member of mine. I have no special fondness for her.
But clearly, I need to step up. That’s the whole point of church, especially Unitarian Universalist churches, where belief in God is optional. “Community” is the goal. I know that if I get dementia (or cancer or anything else), these people will support me. They are GOOD PEOPLE. Most are better than me. (I’m not just saying that. They really are.)
Here’s something Susan said to me in one of her sweeter moments: “I have a trick for when I don’t know what’s going on. I smile more.”
I’m going to try to remember that. Smile more. If she’s annoying me with her inability to follow along and constant questions, I’ll smile at her. She has a lovely smile. And so do I.
Selfie on the rail trail. I was trying to get a pic for a self-portrait for painting class.Our rail trail yesterday
Smiling in annoying or uncomfortable situations might not help. But it can’t hurt. I think this might be a uniquely American thing.
My church runs an annual “country fair” which serves as both a fundraiser for the church and a fall festival for the town. A portion of the proceeds are donated to a local nonprofit each year.
It’s always in early October and it has been going on for decades. Different teams work to prepare and then implement the various revenue areas: the book sale, the country store, “trash & treasure,” face painting, bake sale, etc.
For the past few years, I’ve worked jewelry. We get a tremendous amount of jewelry donated by members and friends of the church throughout the year—everything from diamond rings to Mardi Gras beads.
Sorting, pricing and displaying it is a big job! There are about five of us that usually handle this task, with Julie being our fearless leader. Julie is a former Peace Corps volunteer and retired high school teacher with an eye for precious metals. She’s extremely good at making sure we don’t accidentally give away a real gold ring or a vintage sterling brooch for $5.
She tends to monitor and sell the “real jewelry” at the fair while the rest of us sell the mounds and mounds of “costume jewelry.” She can be tough when needed, especially on the early birds who are clearly looking to score some real gold for next to nothing.
Julie has permanently dedicated a significant portion of her basement to donated jewelry, props on which to display jewelry, and tools to evaluate and repair jewelry.
Here’s my snap of Julie the Jewelry Queen setting up necklace displays in the church office the night before the Country Fair.
And here’s a cell pic of our group in action yesterday. (It was taken by our minister.)
The CVS app said that the newly updated Covid vaccine is available so I decided to get one while I can (before the brain worm host sends us back to the 1940s).
I easily booked an appointment to get both the new Covid vaccine and the updated flu shot at my local Massachusetts CVS. Since I’m under 65, I had to choose a “condition” to qualify for the Covid vaccine of which many were listed including mood disorders and having a BMI over 25. I chose “current or former smoker” which is true, but nobody asked for any proof of that.
Nobody asked me for my insurance card or charged me any money. I got one jab in each arm and a 50% off coupon. I bought some moisturizer that’s supposed to make me look younger with the coupon.
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