Season of discontent

I’ve been back from vacation and back into a normal routine for a week now. My son leaves on Saturday for his last year of college, and the summer is literally running away from me. Labor Day, my least favorite holiday, is right around the corner, and the end of my beloved summer is around the next corner right after that. 

Only this summer is less than beloved, I’m sorry to say. 2026 is taking the life right out of me, and even summer hasn’t made things better. 

OK, that’s not quite true. Summer has made things a little better. I’ve been able to swim four or five times a week this summer, and the water has been exceptionally nice - warm and clear and exactly just right. The 30-minute stretches of time when I’m in the pool are pretty much perfect. 

It’s hard to pinpoint what’s not so great, other than all of this (gesturing wildly at everything). I keep getting sick, and I can’t stop worrying about the state of the world, and I spend far too much money. Right now, I’m about to check my credit card bill to see exactly how much I need to hand over to Visa, and it’s going to be at least $5,000. Travel accounts for a good part of that - but not all of it. I need to stop buying stuff. I need to stop even thinking about buying stuff. 

*****

I was right! My bill was $4,999 and change. As terrible as that sounds, I was actually relieved that it wasn’t more and that I had kept an accurate mental reckoning of my spending. I feel less out of control now. I’m broke until next week of course, but not out of control. 

*****

It’s 2:30 on Friday afternoon on a workday, a time when I should be working and not writing, but my computer is installing a very long series of updates. I’m hoping that the updates will resolve a persistent latency issue that’s driving me crazy. I need the computer to keep up with me. I need to see the words appear on the screen the moment I type them, and not 45 seconds later. My Chromebook is fine right now, but it’s had similar lag issues in recent weeks. I blame AI. I mean, I blame AI for everything, but AI uses a lot of computing power and a lot of bandwidth, and it’s not unlikely that AI is clogging the digital pipes and slowing down my computers. That is my story. I intend to stick to it. 

*****

The updates finally finished just before 3 o’clock, leaving me enough time to finish something that I really wanted to finish before the end of the day. And I guess the computer was running normally after the update because I don’t remember that it wasn’t. Anyway, it’s Saturday morning, and we’re taking my son back to school today. 

Now that he’s a senior, this is a much easier task, both physically and psychologically. He’s had the same roommates since he was a freshman, but the group is splitting up this year, taking advantage of the senior single room privilege. My son is 21 now and he’s never had a room to himself at home or at school so he’s excited about having some private space. 

And he’s much more cavalier about packing and preparing than he usually is. I don’t think he’s really packed anything other than  his clothes at this point. He’s going to just take what he needs for the next week or so, and then come home and pick up the rest later. Without roommates to disturb, he can move everything in gradually. 

My son hasn’t been home for most of the summer so it’s not quite the separation that it has been in previous years. But I still hate seeing him leave home, and because the other boys have already moved in, I won’t get to see their families today, either. But we do have swim season to look forward to. 

The room turned out to be a basic, old-school dorm room with wood-framed windows, white walls, and a linoleum floor. But it’s large for a single, with an absolutely huge closet; and it gets really nice afternoon light thanks to the two large sunny windows. It’s his first space all to himself, and he seemed very happy with it. We helped him unpack and organize and rearrange some furniture, and I made his bed. We shopped for a few supplies, and then ate absolutely delicious noodles at an Asian fusion restaurant in Arlington. We got home at 8 PM, and I was exhausted. But it was kind of a lovely day. 

******

The house always seems empty and sad after he leaves for school, so I kept busy. My house and my car are clean now, and the refrigerator is stocked, and I have kind of an idea for what to make for dinner this week. The bills are paid and the laundry is done. I’m ready for the second-to-last week of summer. Well, I’m ready for a week - I’m never ready for it to be the end of summer. But thanks to a late Labor Day, we get what feels like an extra week this year. 2026 taketh away - all the time - but it giveth a little, too. 

There is Nothing for You Here

Before Trump’s first impeachment trial (ah, the good old days), I had never heard of Fiona Hill. I watched her testimony and was so impressed with her, and even more impressed when I learned more about her. She was born in 1965, same as me, the daughter of a former coal miner in postindustrial northern England. Her family, though better off than some others during those very bleak years, was legitimately poor, and the class divide made it all but impossible for young Fiona to make it beyond secondary school, let alone to university. 

But through a combination of luck, brilliance, hard work, and the help of a few people of good will, Fiona Hill did make it to St. Andrew’s University and then to the United States for graduate study at Harvard, where she eventually earned a PhD. She studied Russian and became a foreign affairs expert, serving as a translator at NBC News, a National Security Council staffer, a Senior Fellow at the Brookings Institution, and now the Chancellor of Durham University in her native northern England. 

I admired her already for her fearless testimony during the impeachment trial, and for her many other accomplishments. But I admire her even more now that I’m halfway through There is Nothing Here for You. A combination of memoir and political history, the book examines Britain and the United States’ failure to take care of the working class and poor in the post-post war years. As a Russia expert, Hillihas first-hand in-depth knowledge of the collapse of Russia after the fall of Communism, and she warns that the US and UK are headed down the same path if we don’t stop the greedy rapacious oligarch bastards from grabbing and hoarding everything and leaving the rest of us destitute. 

OK, that’s not EXACTLY what she says, but it’s close. I remember reading about the rapid privatization of industry and public utilities and land ownership following the fall of the Soviet Union and how a handful of aspiring oligarchs bought working class people’s state-issued shares for far less than their value because most people were desperate for cash to cover food and shelter and other necessities. Pensions were no longer paid, and healthcare was no longer guaranteed, and millions of Russians who had been poor but at least secure were all of a sudden destitute, often homeless, left to beg on the streets. Meanwhile, Putin and a handful of his friends smashed and grabbed until they owned pretty much everything of value. 

I think about this a lot. I hear older people, some of whom still support Trump, confidently assert that they’re not worried about their Medicare or their Social Security because the government “can’t” take those entitlements away - but can’t they? They’re threatening to privatize National Park land, and have already started bulldozing Big Bend to build more of the stupid border wall. The Department of Education pretty much no longer exists; and in some places, school is only in session for four days a week. Regulations and consumer protections are disappearing - from the CFPB to the CDC experts who used to monitor cryptosporiasis outbreaks. The social contract between us and the government - we pay taxes, they provide services - is no longer in effect, at least as far as the services part goes. What is to stop them from cutting all services altogether? What is to stop the billionaires and their servants in the White House and Congress from taking away every protection and service that we expect from the government, and then just grabbing all of the country’s wealth and resources and dividing it all up among themselves? If Russia is any example, then nothing - there’s absolutely nothing stopping them. 

*****

So what is to be done, Dr. Fiona Hill? 

Yes, that was intentional. If they’re going to be out here calling people Communists, then I might as well quote Lenin. NOTE: I AM IN FACT NOT A COMMUNIST. I feel that it’s necessary to state that in writing. 

I’m still in the middle of the book.I should finish reading it before I start writing about it, but I suppose the answer to the question is to restore the social safety net and strengthen our institutions and demand that the government fulfill its obligations to its citizens and to safeguard our elections so that we can elect the people we want and then demand that they do what they promise to do. I’ll be interested to see how Fiona Hill suggests that we do all that. She saw the collapse of the Soviet Union and the beginning of the Putin regime firsthand. She lived through the Thatcher-led downfall of the British working class. And she observed the workings of the first Trump administration from the inside, as a non-political national security professional. There’s no one better qualified to tell us how we can get out of this mess. I very much want to see us get out of this mess. 

Emerald City

We’re going on vacation this week. We’re leaving on Thursday rather than our usual Saturday; and we’re going to Seattle, not the Jersey Shore. I’m excited to be doing something different. I love beach weeks but we spent our last two vacations at the beach, and it is time for a change. 

I don’t love the Thursday to Thursday schedule, but airfare was really significantly more expensive for Saturday flights; so much so that it made a schedule change very much worthwhile. And what I really don’t love is a 7 AM outgoing flight, forcing me to do absolutely all of my packing the night before because 4:30 in the morning is no time to pack for a trip. But the 7 AM flight is one of the cheapest direct flights, and I really wanted a direct flight, so there it is. We’ll gain time on the flight out and so we’ll arrive early in the day. 

*****

I haven’t been to the West Coast in a long time - since 2000 - but I remember that we woke up early every day because we were still on East Coast time. Our flight leaves at 7:10 AM and arrives in Seattle at 9:45 AM, and we have no official plans for that first day so we’ll just get to hang around and explore a bit. 

As always on the day before a long trip, I’m feeling a vague sense of dread and unease. It’s homesickness in advance, which I promise you is a real thing. But I’ll be over it the moment I arrive at the airport. For now, it’s time to think about what to pack and perhaps more importantly, what to leave behind. I’m taking two purses with me, and I already know which two, and that is half the battle. Now I just have to pick a jacket or maybe two, and three pairs of shoes. Everything else will be pretty easy. 

*****

It's way too early on Thursday morning, and I'm on my way to Dulles Airport. We hired a local man who runs his own little private taxi service, and he picked us up in a spotless Toyota Highlander at zero dark thirty. I'm in the back seat and we're about to exit the Beltway to 66 to pick up the Dulles Toll Road. There's an absurd amount of traffic on the road for what is essentially the middle of the night, but that's the DMV for you. 

I finished a crazy amount of work yesterday and then I turned on my out of office, shut down my computer and went swimming for an hour. The water was perfect. Then I came home to narrow down my jacket and shoe selections. 

I thought about packing carry on only, and I was serious this time, I'm telling you. But I just couldn't decide what to leave behind so I pulled out my suitcase and packed pretty much everything. I'll probably wear only about half of what I brought but I don't care. If you're going to check a bag you might as well fill it up. That checked bag is costing me $45 and I am getting my money's worth. 

It's 0515 now and we're about to pull up to the Delta terminal. More later. 

*****

After a very easy and trouble free flight, we landed in Seattle at 940 local time. We retrieved our checked bags and then bought Orca cards for Seattle public transit, and boarded the Link light rail for the trip downtown. 

Public transportation from the airport to our hotel neighborhood was my older son's idea. Like me, he loves public transportation. Unlike me, he romanticizes it because he didn't grow up taking the bus and the subway literally everywhere. It was possibly not the best idea to take the train with a week's worth of luggage but it's all good. We got there. 

It was too early to check into our hotel so we parked our luggage and set out to explore. My husband and I both worked at Nordstrom when we were young and so we wanted to see the original Nordstrom store. It was quite beautiful. I really miss old fashioned downtown department stores. 

We are planning to visit the Space Needle, of course, but my younger son suggested that we visit the Skyview Observatory in the Columbia Center building first, and he was not wrong. It's the tallest building in the Pacific Northwest, and the observatory has a 360 degree panoramic view of the city. Sadly, smoke from the Spokane wildfires obscured the view of the mountains but Seattle is beautiful even without the mountains. 

*****

At 4 o'clock, we finally checked into our hotel. We were exhausted. But we regrouped.

*****

We're in a Ford Transit passenger van right now, with a small group of fellow tourists, on our way to Deception Pass State Park. Our driver and tour guide is a very lovely young woman named Karen, who seems to absolutely love her job. After a morning in the park, we're going out on a boat to see whales. Whales! It's a beautiful day, and I'm so excited. 

*****

We saw whales! We sailed out into the Salish Sea from beautiful Anacortes, in a very comfortable little touring boat with indoor cabins up and downstairs and lots of sightseeing room on the deck. And there were so many sights to see. We saw dozens of bird species, including an osprey in flight, which is apparently unusual. We saw seals and sea lions swimming in the icy water and then warming themselves on sunny rocks. And then about an hour into the cruise, we saw Scuttle the Humpback Whale, diving and surfacing. Scuttle showed us his whole tail, which is how the naturalists on board identified him. They are very proprietary toward their beloved humpbacks. 

It was November cold on the bow of the boat, but having been warned, I was dressed for it as were most of the other people. The sun reflecting on the water wasn't warm enough to burn off the mist rising off the surface, and the effect was quite spectacular. We stayed in place for a bit, watching Scuttle dive and waiting for him to surface again. I could have done that all afternoon. 

After another 30 minutes of cruising, the captain came over the PA to announce that orcas had been spotted and that we were going to try to get as close as possible. People had returned to the cabins but everyone scrambled to get back on the deck to find a good viewing spot. We saw the first flash of black and white, so quick that I wasn't sure if we'd seen anything at all. But it was a pair of orcas, who obliged us by surfacing over and over, showing us their eye spots and their dorsal fins and their black and white bellies.

*****

I'm not an outdoor person. I'm outsidey but not outdoorsy. But that day of hiking and whale watching was one of my favorite ever vacation days. 10/10. 

*****

Yesterday, we visited the Space Needle, Museum of Pop Culture, and Chihuly Gardens. The MCP was dull. Chihuly, which I had been quite ready to skip, was pretty spectacular. And the Space Needle, no matter what anyone says, is wonderful and absolutely worth a visit. The Monorail and the Space Needle, both constructed for the 1962 World's Fair, are quintessential symbols of mid century American energy and optimism and while I don't pretend that 20th century America was perfect or anything close to it, I do miss the energy and the optimism. 

*****

It's Sunday now, and we're going to a Mariners game. We like baseball and we try to see a game when we're on vacation in another city. We've gone to baseball games in Boston, Chicago, Toronto, and even Seoul. Now we'll see a game on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. The Mariners are playing Tampa Bay so it'll be easy to cheer for the hometown team. Florida can suck it. 

*****

That might have been the most fun baseball game I've ever attended, and I have been to a lot of baseball games. There's a lot of energy at T-Mobile Park and in the surrounding neighborhood.  Sadly, the Mariners did not win but we got to sit in the shade and watch baseball and eat soft serve ice cream out of little plastic souvenir baseball helmets. We walked the two miles back to our hotel, passing through Pioneer Square, a wild neighborhood that reminds me of University City in Philadelphia when I lived there in the 80s. A 10/10 day. 

It's 7 AM on Monday now and we're up and dressed and out in the world, at least two hours earlier than normal for a vacation day. We're on a mini passenger bus heading toward a YMCA near SeaTac airport, where our Mount Rainier tour is picking up its last two passengers. We're excited about this little expedition. 

*****

Well Mount Rainier is just the most astonishing thing, and I'm so glad I got to see it. After a stop at Fred Mayer (about which I could write a whole page itself) to buy lunch and snacks, we arrived at the famous Mount Rainier National Park gate at about 1100. Our tour guide, Erika, is a serious outdoorswoman who has been to Rainier hundreds of times, beginning in her early childhood, and she drove the bus capably and fearlessly up the mountain roads. I wouldn't even want to drive my car in that park. We stopped at Longmire, an original park site that includes the Longmire Inn and a small visitors center and some bathrooms, all in the famous National Park architecture style - “parkitecture." Those buildings reminded me that National Parks are one of the greatest things about the United States. 

We kept driving, and caught our first glimpse of Rainier, still capped with snow. Mount Rainier, I learned, is the snowiest place in America. Last year was a bad year, with under 500 feet of snow. In a typical year, 600 feet of snow falls on Mount Rainier. I can't even fathom this. 

We finally reached Paradise, the most popular spot in the park. It is aptly named, with meadows full of wildflowers and incredible views of Rainier and the freshest, clearest air you can imagine. We hiked to Myrtle Falls, which would be a very easy little walk at sea level. But at 6000 feet, it's a legitimate hike. We saw a little black bear on a meadow high above the trail, so high that I almost wondered if I was seeing things. But everyone saw that bear, who didn't give us a second look. My sons, who took a more challenging hike up the mountain, also saw an elk and a marmot, who sat on a rock and chattered at the visitors. 

We ate our picnic lunch at the Paradise Inn, an early 20th century rustic grand hotel that allows visitors to sit at tables in its beautiful old lobby and on its huge wraparound porch. I imagined wealthy families vacationing there 100 years ago and just for a moment, I thought about having been born too late. But my ancestors would not have been vacationing at the Paradise Inn. They'd have been cooking the food and cleaning the rooms and taking care of the grounds. I was born at exactly the right time. 

*****

We arrived back in Seattle at 6 PM. That was the only night that we stayed in. I went swimming and then soaked in the hot tub and after a shower, I sat in my bed and read my book and watched TV for the rest of the evening. An altogether excellent day. 

*****         

That takes us to Tuesday. We finally made it to the Public Market, and just by happenstance, we ended up having lunch in the same restaurant where Tom Hanks and Rob Reiner had lunch in “Sleepless in Seattle.” The lunch was fine but the atmosphere and the view and the experience were outstanding. Just a lovely little place. I loved the Market with its artists and vendors and musicians and a guy who writes poems on an old Smith Corona typewriter - you give him a topic and he writes you a poem. I'd have asked for a poem on the topic of the year 2026, but there was already a long line of poem customers so I didn't get a poem. 

We went to the Aquarium, which was OK. I don't like seeing wildlife in enclosures. But it was fine. Later, we took a sightseeing harbor cruise. The young tour guide, a Seattle native, was knowledgeable and funny and he seemed genuinely happy to tell us about his city. It was from him that I learned that Mount Rainier is only visible from Seattle about 90 days per year. “We say that the mountain is out," he said, “and we don't take it for granted." Neither did we. 

*****

It's our last day in Seattle. I'm sitting next to two German ladies, waiting for the ferry back to Seattle from Bainbridge Island.  When we got off the ferry, we were greeted by an older lady protesting the Trump administration, all by herself. A few of the hundreds of ferry passengers looked askance at her but most of us cheered and waved and smiled. 

We were the first people in line for the return ferry to Seattle.  After the last passenger disembarked, we started to board, until the German lady yelled at us for not waiting for the official order to begin boarding. As it turned out, she was right, but I took offense at her tone, which was martial to say the very least. But other than the order-barking Prussian military officer, it was a perfect ride. I love the Washington State ferry line. And Bainbridge Island is a lovely little place. 

*****

And it was a lovely trip. We're on the plane now, in line for takeoff from Sea-Tac. It's 750 AM and we've been up since 430. I find that I like the early flights, even with the stupidly early wake up time. Boarding began at 640 for a 720 takeoff but I guess there's a lot of traffic today. It was misty early this morning, and even a little drizzly, but the sky is clearing now. Maybe we'll get one last look at Mount Rainier as we take off. Maybe the mountain is out today. 

*****

It’s Friday now. I took today as a vacation day, and I’m so glad I did. There’s always so much to do after a trip, and it’s nice to have an extra day to catch up and organize things.

Right now, I’m sitting on my couch catching up with bill-paying and email; and of course, finishing this little chronicle of my week. Our flight home yesterday was very quick and despite a slight mishap (our driver, who had been told multiple times that our return flight would land at National and not at Dulles, still went to Dulles), we were home by 5 PM local time. I started unpacking and doing laundry immediately because if I’d sat down, I wouldn’t have gotten up. By 7:15, I was on my third load of laundry. I’d unpacked everything and put away my suitcases and I’d also dusted and vacuumed the house. After a short swimming break, I finished the laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and curled up in my pajamas with a cup of tea. It was nice to wake up to a clean house this morning. 

*****

I didn’t feel well for most of the week. I'm not sick. I've just been in a lot of pain, and also not in a good place mentally. I hope to feel better soon. But I'm grateful that the pain and sadness didn’t stop me from enjoying a pretty wonderful trip. So long Seattle - it was my first visit but I hope it won’t be my last. 

A week that was

It’s raining right now, a full-on summer storm with wicked thunder claps and flashes of lightning and very heavy rain. I was at the bookstore with my mother and we made it almost home before the sky opened up. I’ve always liked that expression. I like the idea of the sky just opening up. 

We’ve had plenty of rain this summer, but this is the first time we’ve had an old-fashioned early evening thunderstorm in a long time. This is the kind of thunderstorm that people used to watch from their front porches and say “We really needed that,” as the storm would break the heat and humidity. 

It wasn’t actually that hot or humid today - low to mid 80s and just a little bit hazy. But the sky had that unnatural brightness of a sunny day just ahead of a storm. This storm was inevitable. It was all but guaranteed. 

*****

By 7:45 or so, the storm had passed and the sky had cleared, and we even had a little bit of evening sunshine. Then the clouds returned just before it got dark. 

As I mentioned, my mom is here for the week, and she can’t do much that involves moving around. Her mobility issues make it hard to get her from place to place, and then hard to be in the place once we’re there. I drove her right up to the front entrance of Barnes and Noble and put my flashers on while I got her and her walker and cane out of the car. Then I went and parked. When I got inside the store, I found my mother sitting in the seat of her walker, from which she almost couldn’t stand up. After half an hour of browsing (she bought a cookbook) she was ready to return home. We didn’t do very much for the rest of the evening. 

*****

It’s Thursday now, my mom’s fifth day here. She leaves on Sunday. 

I love my mother, but she is difficult, and having her here is difficult. She refuses to sleep in a bed, so we make up a couch in the living room for her, and she goes back and forth between the couch and a recliner in the family room. Meanwhile, she brings two full suitcases and multiple tote bags, so the spare room, which she uses only as a dressing room, is filled with her stuff. Basically, every room in the house is her bedroom. The disorder is hard to cope with. 

My mom jokes that she likes to come here because I wait on her hand and foot. Only it’s not a joke because I do - partly because she has a hard time getting things for herself and partly because she’s my mother and a guest in my house. But it’s a lot. Yesterday, I made lunch for the three of us - myself, my mom, and my younger son, who was visiting for the day. I told my mom that I would be making lunch, and I told her what I was making, and I told her when it would be ready. When I told her that it was time for lunch, she said “Oh, I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. Hmmm, what do I want for lunch?” Note that I had already announced the menu and that I wasn’t offering additional selections. But she didn’t want to eat what we were eating. She asked for cheese and crackers instead. 

Yes, I gave her the cheese and crackers. I’m not going to let her starve, for crying out loud. 

“Hmmm, what do I want for lunch?” Like she’s in a diner. Sheesh. 

*****

Like a lot of older people, my mom keeps her own hours. I feel bad leaving her on her own when I go to bed but she always seems quite happy to be left with her games and late-night TV, and I can’t be up and awake all hours of the night and then expect to function the next day. She goes to bed late and she gets up fairly early (8:30 is early for someone who was up until 3) and she naps on and off throughout the day. I worry sometimes that she’s bored but there’s only so much I can do to entertain a grown person when I have a job to do and a household to run. 

Maybe one day she’ll tell me she’s bored, and then I can tell her to go find something to do, or I’ll find something for her to do. 

*****

And that’s what it is, isn’t it? We become their parents. We tell them what to do, what to eat, when to go to bed (she doesn’t listen, but I still tell her to get to bed by midnight). They act like recalcitrant toddlers or rebellious adolescents, refusing to eat the food we cook and watching videos and playing games long past midnight. 

It’s Saturday now. My mom wanted to go to a flea market or farmers market or maybe drive around and look for yard sales. And that would have been just fine except that it’s 11:10 and she’s just in the middle of her leisurely cup of tea and the farmers’ markets and yard sales will be over by the time I get her out the door and in the car (which is a process in itself). So instead, we’re going to the local antique row to poke around in little shops. Then we’ll have lunch somewhere. Then we’ll come home and I’ll settle her in front of a movie or something so that I can swim for the first time since Monday. 

We’re taking her home tomorrow, and not a moment too soon. I feel bad even writing that sentence but there it is. The disorder and disruption are getting to me. My house is a mess and the TV is on, loud, all the time, and I’ve run out of ideas for how to feed and entertain a grouchy octogenarian toddler. 

*****

We ended up going to the Kensington historic shopping district, a cute little cluster of boutiques and bookstores and antique shops right in the middle of beautiful old Kensington, Maryland. It was just the thing. I dropped my mom off in front of a shop that she wanted to visit, parked in the Maryland National Guard Armory parking lot a few blocks away, and we spent a few hours poking in and out of shops, and then having iced tea at an outdoor cafe. The tiny shops of Kensington are not the best place for a walker, but my mom maneuvered around reasonably well, and thankfully, all of the shopkeepers and other shoppers were very nice to her. She enjoyed herself thoroughly. We came home in the heat of the afternoon, and after I found a movie for her to watch (“Murder on the Nile”), I went swimming for the first time in several days. 

I never take swimming for granted. I’m always aware of and grateful for proximity and easy access to our lovely old neighborhood pool. But what I do tend to take for granted is the general ease with which I live in my body. I changed into my suit, wrapped myself in a towel, and was out the door and in the water in five minutes. I swam laps for 35 minutes, showered, came home and put on shorts and a t-shirt and let my hair dry as I made tea for both of us. We watched the last few minutes of the movie together and then during the 30 minutes or so that it took her to get ready to go out for dinner, I changed, folded a load of laundry, straightened the house, cleaned and swept the kitchen, and then waited for her on the couch, where I’m writing this right now. 

It’s an extraordinary gift to be able to move freely. That’s the takeaway from a long and hard but still-good week. And there’s no point to having that gift - absolutely no point at all - if you’re not going to use it to take care of the people who need taking care of. Still, now that my mom has gone home and I’m among people who can take care of themselves, I’m going to let them do exactly that for the next few days. The question “what’s for dinner?” will go unanswered for the next few days. Even the caretakers need a rest now and then.