There’s never been such a long gap on my blog; and there’s never been such a huge hole in my heart—- due to losing Howard, my ex-husband, father of my 2 children, in many ways my closest friend in the world— who died two days ago after a grueling and heroic struggle against cancer.

I don’t have the heart, the will, or the words— to write.

So  I’m just going to link to words I’ve already written about our unique relationship–from the beginning to the middle to the end. 

And here’s a link to  some sweet words written about Howard today by my nephew Max, who also took this shot of Howard a couple years ago.

Like this post? You might like this one

1. One Man’s Heart ...
2. A double loss That the news was predictable doesn’t make it less painful....
3. An Angel in your corner This post is very difficult to write and not what...

10 birthday thanks

1. You’re smart enough to believe I’m smarter than you.

2.  You are unfailingly loving to my children and supportive of my relationship and theirs with my ex-husband.

3.  You’re willing to eat anything I cook takeout every night.  And pick it up.

4.  You allow me to believe that I’m low-maintenance.

5.  No matter how many body parts I’ve lost, you always make me feel sexy.

6. You are so generous you would give me anything you have—although I’m not generous enough to share chocolate with you.

7. You are the biggest fan of my blog—and everything else I do.

8.  You overlook my clutter —which isn’t easy– or even possible.

9.   You accept that I’m always often late—including  this post which I planned to have posted this morning.

10.  You know how lucky you are to be married to me.

And I do, too.

Happy Birthday V!!

Like this post? You might like this one

1. A Happy Birthday no matter what ...
2. Let them eat Birthday Cake I’m still continuing to honor my commitment to Daniel, to...
3. birthday season It’s coming.  Whether I like it or not.   And it’s...

I like the concept-–the approach of a shiny new year  full of unlimited possiiblity and potential—unspoiled by problems and pressures…. which lasts until 12:01.

But I don’t like the reality:  every time I made a resolution to cut back on chocolate, it lasted approximately until 12:02.

The real problem is not what to resolve but whether to resolve.

As 2012 was a few hours away, the issue of resolutions remained unresolved.  And lately I feel distracted and unresolved about everything.

My last excursion of 2011 was a walk on Carmel Beach—it probably doesn’t bode well for my state of mind that the walk itself took less time than it took afterwards walking around trying to remember where I’d parked my car.

I never was a resolution maker anyway.  But then I married V.  My polar opposite in all ways, naturally he’s big on resolutions and goal setting .

Every year he’d  insist suggest that I join him in making New Year’s resolutions.   Every year I’d make up a list.  But inside  I’d always be thinking the same thing:  F**k it.

Even if I didn’t keep the resolutions,  at least I kept the lists.  Sometimes I still find one of them buried under the pile on my desk—kind of ironic since a major item on every list was keeping my desk uncluttered.

This year I thought of making my list not on paper but on this big white board facing my desk where I’m forced to look at it.

So  tonight before we go out  I ask V if he wants to make our resolutions.  Instead of perking up as I expected, he kind of groans.  And  I know what he’s thinking:  F**k it.

Which is why I think is the answer to resolutions at our stage of life is something I made up a couple years ago—The flip side of the Bucket List:  The F**k-it List.

Things you shoulda done, woulda done, coulda done—but know you won’t.
Things you are ready to cross off your Bucket List—with or without regret.

It’s the place where the Buck(et) Stops. Where the brave and bold move beyond.

It’s not about age; it’s about attitude.

You are ready to move Beyond the Bucket List when:

• The bucket is in sight-–and you have insight.
• You don’t have it ALL; but you have ENOUGH.
• You are thinking ahead—and behind

The most important feature is that you are not GIVING UP; you are GIVING permission; GIVING acceptance to the person who counts most—yourself.  A sense of relief and release comes from letting yourself off the hook. Permanently.

My original F**k-it List had items like:

run a marathon

learn what’s under the hood of a car

climb a mountain

Throw a delicious meal together from random ingredients in the refrigerator

This year I have the perfect item to add to the top of this year’s F**k-it List:

Make resolutions

Happy New Year!!

Like this post? You might like this one

1. Are you making a New Year’s Resolution? Oy. Exactly one year ago, as my New Year’s resolution, ...
2. Click for Clutter ...
3. Thinking BIG, thinking small It’s hard to ignore.   Every new year means a self-help...

#2. I grew up in a kosher home. We also hung stockings and got presents Christmas morning.

#3. My husband is Christian.   But  he claims he doesn’t mind that we don’t have a Christmas tree.

#4. I always yearned for a Christmas tree.

#5. I stopped yearning for a tree when my first husband (who was Jewish) surprised me and the kids one year with a Christmas tree— which came  in a box.

#6. I have pictures of me sitting on Santa’s lap as a child. And as an adult.

#7. I love Christmas songs. Especially singing them.

#8. When I was a kid, I sang Christmas songs but I would never pronounce the word “Christ”– because I was afraid something bad would happen to me.

#9.  I love seeing family pictures on Christmas cards.  I also love that being Jewish means I never have to send out cards of my own.

#10. This post is a repeat from last Christmas.

(And a repeat from every Christmas since I’ve had a blog.  It’s become my own Christmas tradition.)

Merry Christmas to all !

Like this post? You might like this one

1. 10 Christmas Confessions #1.  I’m Jewish.  So actually I have no business writing...
2. 10 Christmas Confessions ...
3. Christmas Confessions 10.2 #1. I’m Jewish. So actually I have no business writing...

I had one Jewish grandmother who burned everything and one who never cooked at all.  I never ate a homemade latke till I was married and got the recipe from a friend.  How ironic that of the few dishes I cook well, most are Jewish recipes, and latkes are the JEW-el in the crown.  Even more ironic,  some of my favorite latke memories are from All Saints Episcopal Day School.

As someone who grew up in a kosher home,  among the things I didn’t sign up for is that both of my children attended Christian schools.   Alli went to a Catholic middle school and Daniel to All Saints; at night they would sit at the dinner table discussing whether or not they should each take communion.   My father would roll over in his grave.

For Daniel, who was younger, the mixed messages were a little confusing, especially early on.  He started at All Saints in first grade, and stayed for 8 years— the only Jewish kid in his class.  Every day he went to Chapel and sang Christian hymns and learned the names of the Saints– and then after school he would learn to read Hebrew for his future Bar Mitzvah.

In the end they both learned a lot about Christianity, plus valuable lessons on tolerance and acceptance.  And the learning process works both ways.

Every year during Hanukkah, the school Chaplain would add “The Dreidle Song” to the mix of Christmas carols sung during Chapel.  And every year the Chaplain would call on Daniel  to stand up in front of the entire student body, and Daniel would explain about the victory of the Maccabees over the Syrians, and why we light 8 candles during Hanukkah.

And then I would go into his classroom and cook latkes.  I was never sure who had more fun–the kids or me, and I’m sure there are Jewish mothers doing this in Christian schools all over America.

Through this quintessential Jewish food, for the first time these kids at Daniel’s school got a taste of Jewish traditions. The tantalizing smell would drift down the hall and I’m convinced that many kids and not a few teachers would have signed up to convert on the spot.  More than one classmate of Daniel’s went home and insisted that her parents buy a menorah and light candles.  To this day they reminisce about the latkes.

More than 15 years later, our Hanukkah still has a “Christian” touch.  Ever since they met in first grade, Daniel’s friend Christian got hooked on latkes.  He still comes over every year to get his latke fix; one year he was so eager he even came a day early.   I can’t think of latkes without thinking of him; and can’t imagine celebrating Hanukkah without Christian here.

As someone who believes food is the answer to everything—sometimes I think if the entire world could enjoy each other’s traditions, maybe food could be the secret ingredient to world peace—one latke at a time.

As a start, here’s a link to our family recipe–highly recommended if you’re not watching your cholesterol.

No matter what, or how, or if you celebrate—Happy Hanukkah to all.

Like this post? You might like this one

1. Jews and Saints The first time my daughter tried to cook latkes she...
2. Hanukkah Wish list It’s here already????!!! First of all it’s barely December;  way...
3. The Fireball This post is by my daughter Alli. My husband is on...

It’s no secret how I feel about him..

So.  About this flap on the plane.  (If you didn’t hear about it, read this )  Then again, has anyone NOT heard about it?

I can’t abandon him when he’s under attack.

I can’t blame a guy who loves playing the same game that millions of people are obsessed with.   And I can’t blame him for defending himself and apologizing on his regular platform, the Huffington Post.    You might not agree with his politics, but if you’ve read his words in the past, you have to admit Alec is articulate.  Only  this time,  he managed to offend the airline, Greyhound,  even a 911 widow.

Oy.  Alec.

Now columnists are telling him to shut up.  His spokesman is trying to do damage control.  Zynga started a campaign saying, Let Alec Play.

Today Alec wrote an addendum to his  Huff Post piece, further explaining–and expanding the hole he’s dug for himself by  adding the  New York Post to the list  he’s offended.

Plus he’s pulled the plug on Twitter.

Personally, in many cases, I think muzzling celebrities is not a bad idea.  But I’ll miss Alec’s voice—even if it’s heated.  He’s an impulsive, opinionated  guy—one reason his tweets were entertaining and often, intelligent.    And celebrities are just people, people.  Still I hope he won’t stay grounded for long.

Actually the airline industry should probably thank him for doing a public service—proving that in today’s world, social media is more dangerous than flying.

PS  Writing this post also proves I have too much time on my hands—but without Twitter, so does Alec.  Words with Friends?

Like this post? You might like this one

1. A Word with Friends I love words.  And wordplay.  And there are endless possibilities...
2. The Marriage Ref: do we deserve this? I deserve it. I write this post spouting my own...
3. Twitter High Twitter is tipping. Tipping as in Tipping Point. And I...

I don’t often repeat those words though they sum up so much of what I blog about.  This includes the post I recently wrote about my ex-husband Howard, his illness, and his girlfriend Dina; and it also includes most of my life since Thanksgiving.

Before we’d even digested the turkey, Howard was admitted to the hospital– where we spent the weekend and the next week.  Though I managed to poke some fun at hospital gowns,  and I’m writing this with a lighter tone, it wasn’t funny —and no one has a better sense of humor than Howard.  Someone in so much pain makes it seem hard to find something to laugh about.

If you’ve ever spent much time in hospitals, you know how it is.  A little like Las Vegas where you lose all sense of time and routine. And money.  Outside of medical issues, I couldn’t focus on anything more productive than playing Words with Friends sending out text updates to friends and family.

Rarely is  a hospital a joyous place, unless you’re having a baby.  (Unless you’re delivering 10-pounders like I did.)  And though I can’t say this was a joyous experience,  in the end it turned out that there were reasons for giving thanks, after all.

Most of those are for people—including everyone who reached out via email, text, calls—many of whom read my post but have never met Howard.  When times are hard, these gestures mean a lot.  Though Dina still wears the wings, others have also been “angelic”.

Maybe because I could never imagine doing it myself, I’ve always been awed by people who work in medicine.  Especially nurses—many of them demonstrate devotion that goes so far beyond what you could call a “job.”

And Howard has an exceptional (and handsome) oncologist–who took on his case late in the game.  He would show up in the hospital at 6 a.m. and again as late as 9 p.m.–in between seeing patients in the office.  We can’t figure out when he sleeps.

Many patients express appreciation and admiration for their doctors.  For the first time ever, I saw it in reverse.  In a completely professional, completely undramatic, yet completely sincere way, the doctor expressed his admiration and appreciation for Howard—-for the amazing resilience and courage he’s shown during his ordeal.   It was just a few sentences; just a few minutes; but incredibly meaningful and full of humanity.  It’s a moment that’s  stayed with me—that I felt privileged and grateful to witness.

Most of all I’m grateful this current crisis was averted; Howard is now home; and so am I.

Every day in the hospital I’d look out the window and see the sun set on another difficult day;  I thought of  that driving the 5 hours to get back to Carmel.  So when I got here I didn’t even go home;  I went directly to the beach where I arrived just in time to see one more reason to be thankful.

Like this post? You might like this one

1. at a loss I’m at a loss —for words and so much more....
2. How Heidi Klum can improve the health care system …Because you might not realize that fashion can be bad...

Seriously.  (Disclaimer:  I have no stats or scientific studies to prove this.  Just read this post and decide for yourself. )

The thing is, we’re living in a time of incredible progress; when the world changes in nano seconds.

In hospitals, where I’ve spent a lot of time lately, progress is everywhere—and part of that includes the look—reflecting awareness that aesthetics is related to health by nourishing the spirit and the soul.

Enlightened thinking has transformed medical centers into beautiful settings.  The building and grounds of our local hospital on the Monterey Peninsula looks as gorgeous as one of the area resorts.  The art in many hospitals is better than what you’d find in museums.

Here are a few of my favorites from Cedars Sinai in in Los Angeles.

Nurses long ago abandoned the Florence Nightingale look—and now express their personal style in colorful and comfortable clothing.

But there’s one area where the entire system breaks down; one gaping hole in all the progress on the medical front—or rather, back—where it all hangs out.

Actually I’m kind of surprised there isn’t more  of a flap about it.

When you stay in a hospital, you already feel like a victim;   why is it necessary to also feel like a fashion victim?   When we’re paying astronomical prices for every bandaid, why not a few pennies to improve a patient’s state of mind?  Depressing and dysfunctional on so many levels, it robs patients of their dignity;  possibly for serious fashionistas, might even affect the will to live.

I won’t defile my blog by posting a picture—but of course I”m referring to the sorry state of the hospital “gown”.

And who ever came up with the term gown to describe it?  It’s stretching the point  to call it an item of clothing.

This is attire even Heidi Klum could not carry off.

Which is why I think she’s the perfect person to revolutionize the health care industry.

What better project could there be for  Project Runway?   So I’m  throwing out a challenge for the producers— make this a challenge for next season.  With a few dollars at Mood, a little velcro and some creativity, surely the designers can come up with some innovations; at least they can’t do worse than what’s out there.

Plus this would lift the show from just reality to providing a desperately needed public service;  I guarantee patients everywhere would be grateful.  And haven’t we already been patient enough?

Like this post? You might like this one

1. Why Heidi Klum Should Moderate the Debate ...
2. care and comfort They play a role in our lives from birth to...
3. Thanks Unexpected I never signed up for this….. I don’t often repeat...

Here is my 4th annual Thanksgiving time post;  it’s gotten rave reviews.

I promise if you make it you will not only give thanks, but get thanks.

THE BEST EVER PUMPKIN BREAD

Blend in one large bowl:

3 eggs beaten

2 cups canned pumpkin

1 ½ c. white sugar

1 ½ c. brown sugar

1 c. oil

3 c. flour

1 tsp. nutmeg (If I’m missing any spices, I skip it; it still tastes great)

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp. ground cloves

1 tsp . ginger

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. baking powder

Grease and flour 2 loaf pans

(I double the recipe and use 3 loaf pans)

Mix ingredients well to be sure there aren’t too many lumps of flour.

Bake at 350 for an hour to  75 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.

Gobble, gobble.  And Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!

Like this post? You might like this one

1. Give thanks and pass the pumpkin bread ...
2. Getting pumped Not that kind of pumped:  MY kind of pumped— as...
3. Thanks giving In the end, it’s not about the food. Giving thanks....

I thought I did.  When I was 13.  That’s when I started writing my first—and last –novel.

I wrote 30 very unremarkable pages about summer camp.  If you went to camp with me, you’re probably in it.  I’m sure  it’s still around someplace in a drawer, with other unfinished screenplays, treatments, and nonfiction book ideas that have never seen the light of day.

A few years ago on Twitter, I heard about something called NaNoWriMo.  What a concept.  It stands for National Novel Writing Month, an annual internet-based creative writing project which challenges participants to write a new novel during the month of November.

It started in 1999 with 21 people in San Francisco.  Last year it included over 200,000 people all over the world.

From what  I understand, it includes online encouragement and local support groups; but mostly it’s intended as a commitment to yourself, and a discipline to get down a first draft.

I’d see people I knew posting the numbers of words they were writing per day.  I was astounded that anyone could actually do this; some people, year after year.  I know absolutely nothing about writing a novel;  I had absolutely no desire—or slightest glimmer of a desire—to do it myself.

So I can’t really explain why this year,  I had this sudden urge to try.

November  doesn’t seem like the best month—not with Thanksgiving tucked in there at the homestretch.  And couldn’t they pick a month with 31 days?

Plus this particular November is not the best time in my life to be writing a novel. But I figure it’s like one of those things when there’s never the perfect time.   Kind of like having children–you just do it.  So I dug one of my old unfinished screenplays out of a drawer and figured I could adapt it.

It seemed pretty daunting, but  I write a lot.   I could do this.

Then it occured to me to check out how long a novel actually is.  50 to 90 thousand words.

In 3 1/2 years of blogging surely I’ve written well over 50,000 words??  So why not?  And why not now?

I knew I wouldn’t participate in the local or online support groups;  I wouldn’t post my numbers or my pages or my title on the NaNoWriMo website.  But I registered and I made the commitment to myself.  And I started November 1.

Here’s how it went.

First week:  9,000 words.  

I was feeling pretty cocky.

Second week:  0

If you read my last couple posts, you can maybe understand how and why life got in the way.

I figured this novel was heading for the drawer.

A few days ago, when I had a chance to think about writing again, I went back to see what I’d done.  Still 9,000 words.

But the month had almost two weeks left.  And even if I couldn’t make it to 50,000 words, I could still make a good dent.  Besides, I had committed something to myself.  So….

Current total:  13, 400 words.

And who says National Novel Writing Month can’t extend into December?

Too bad  the 517 words I just wrote in this post don’t count.

Like this post? You might like this one

1. I have to confess… a few more things… ...
2. Why am I doing this? ...
3. By the Numbers ...