My Mid‑80s Crisis: Retail Therapy and a Pot of Living Stones

Feeling like you’re running out of time isn’t just for the young or the old—it hits most people eventually. When Jean’s youngest niece admitted she feels it too, it sent Jean down a rabbit hole of time anxiety, grief, retail therapy, and a surprising new obsession. Between missing her husband, worrying about the state of the country, and trying to make peace with unfinished goals, Jean found herself unexpectedly comforted by a tiny plant called a Living Stone that could easily outlive most of her readers.  AI…..

My youngest niece asked me a question that startled me. “Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time?” And before I could answer she went on to say, “I do. There’s still a lot of things I want to do.”

“Welcome to my world,” I replied, “but you’re too young to start feeling that way.” I didn’t say it out loud but I briefly considered checking her hands for liver spots.

We are twenty-one years apart in age, but she and her husband have both had health scares in the last few years, so I suppose it’s natural for her to experience a feeling I assumed was only common among my peers. If it’s even common in people in their 80s. I never hear anyone talking about it here in my continuum care community, but then it’s rare when a serious conversation ever takes place other than with my Tuesday night dinner group. And I miss talking in depth. I had that with my husband, and I seem to be missing him a lot right now. He’s been gone for eleven years, and you’d think missing him would get less intense rather than more. I’ve been dreaming about him, too. But it’s the anniversary month of his passing so—duh!—maybe this acute missing him will lessen when the calendar page turns. If not, I’m going to start charging him rent for waltzing around in my head.

Back on topic: I sure feel that pressure of running out of time. Every day. It’s like a wild animal chasing me into a dark forest. Google’s AI says, “Feeling like you're running out of time, or time anxiety, is common and stems from stress, pressure to achieve, or feeling overwhelmed; it can be managed by prioritizing, setting boundaries…” etc., etc.

Prioritizing. Set boundaries. If only it were that easy. Back in my prime I could time‑manage and prioritize the crap out of any job, and I didn’t need to set boundaries because I really thought I could do it all. After all, I was young and had all the time in the world to reach my life goals. But I no longer have all the time in the world, and 95% of the time I've made peace with the fact that some of my life goals have to pass me by, unfulfilled.

And maybe someone out there in cyberspace can tell me how you manage your time when you don’t know how much you have left before you kick the proverbial bucket. Do I start that quilt I know will take two years to complete? Do I buy that new storage cabinet I’ve been lusting after, knowing I’m adding to the job my nieces will have to do when I die or get downgraded to assisted living or memory care? I can almost hear them muttering, “Why did she need upgrade that light-weight plastic storage cabinet for this wooden one that weighs a ton?”

It doesn’t help that the universal values I always took for granted about our country seem to have evaporated, forcing me to feel like I have to join the fight to get them back in place before I die—adding one more goal to the pile I’ve already heaped on myself. The past two weeks my restlessness has reached new heights, and I’ve done what I’ve rarely done in the past to combat the anxiety of running out of time: I did what Dawn over at the Bohemian Valhalla blog calls “Retail Therapy.” That’s when you buy stuff you don’t need but you buy it anyway because it temporarily fills a hole and/or improves your mood. Can we all agree that it’s probably cheaper than traditional therapy​?

And what have I over‑indulged in shopping for? It started with one $10 plant—a Living Stone—I found at a local garden center. Before I knew it, I was ordering two pots of these South African odd little things online. They can live 40 to 50 years in the same pot, if you don’t manage to kill them with kindness. I’ve become obsessed, and by the time I bought the succulent soil and pumice to amend it, the right size pots (they need to be six inches deep to accommodate their tap roots), and a cute little succulent tool kit—plus some other succulents I fell in love with along the way—I’d spent nearly a hundred dollars. That was my wake‑up call that it was time to rein myself in, and when I realized some people might thing It’s odd that I was buying plants with a longer life expectancy than I have. In the meantime, I get to watch my latest (and hopefully last) purchase travel across the country during the coldest snap of the season and hope the plants doesn’t die of frostbite along the way.

The photo at the top is the way my Living Stones look before I repotted them into their homes for the next half‑century—assuming I can keep them alive and I find someone to extract a promise from to take one of these pots when I die. My youngest niece likes succulents, and I’m giving her the bottom pot. 

I was showing that photo around the farm table last night at dinner, and one of the ladies was strongly hinting that she’d like one of my “stones.” I was playing dumb and not picking up on the hint. She was offering me a couple of leaves off her Aloe Vera plant to root in exchange. But I’d just spent the afternoon transplanting them—see the photo at the far bottom—and I figured they’d been through enough. Those poor things were probably travel traumatized after getting shoved into a dark box then having to leave a warm nursery and ending up in Widowland during single digit temperatures where I ripped them apart from their buddies.

Anyway, if you’re still reading this, you’ll be happy to know I think the retail therapy worked. Buying Living Stones is like planting a tree you know you won’t live long enough to sit under. And that’s okay. I may not be able to leave behind the same kind of democracy I was born into but, by golly, I will leave something good behind.

And just in case you’re wondering where the expression “by golly” comes from: in the 1770s a writer named Gilbert White noted that working‑class people were using it as a euphemism for “God.” Now, aren’t you glad you read to the very end to learn that useless bit of information? If nothing else you can use this tidbit on trivia night.  ©

 See you next Wednesday. 

 Living Stones in their natural habitat in South Africa. 

 

Living Stones don't get any taller than one inch but they also "climb" on top of each making them look taller. They also spit open and will produce a daisy like flower on a short stem that last from 4 to 6 weeks. 

My Living Stones after I repotted them. 

How to Stay Engaged When the World Gets Loud

Some weeks, the world feels too heavy to ignore—and too important to stay silent about. This post grew out of a talk Jean recently gave to her dinner conversation group, a gathering that has quietly become a lifeline for those of who still believe civic engagement matters. What follows isn’t a rant but a practical guide for anyone wondering how to push back, stay informed, and stay hopeful.  AI…...

It’s been thirteen weeks since I’ve written a political post, and if you’re not a fan of those, you might want to skip this one. But this isn’t a rant—it’s a road map for how to push back against the administration’s disregard for the rule of law. Most of what follows began as a speech I gave to my Tuesday night dinner conversation group, formerly known (tongue firmly in cheek) as the Secret Society for Liberal Ladies. We used that name until the resident in charge of our Social Committee here at my Continuum Care Campus pulled us aside. She didn’t think politics belonged in our “harmonious” community, so we backed down and changed our name. Sometimes pretending that all is right in the world is the only way you can get up and face the day.

We started the group because any time someone brought up something happening in the news, someone else would immediately shut the conversation down. (If only I had the power to shut down the endless discussions about college basketball and football. And it’s not just the men here who follow the games religiously.) My best friend since kindergarten recently moved into a CCC in New York, and I found it interesting that every morning they have an hour dedicated to discussing world events. She has no interest in joining. As I’ve said before, if you’re looking at CCCs, read their calendar and/or newsletter. We have game‑day viewing parties; she gets political conversation. My friend likes sports; I do not.

Anyway, last night it was my turn to give a presentation on a topic of my choice, and here is the text of my speech:

Now, I’m a writer, not a speaker, so forgive me for reading from my notes rather than pretend I’m capable of speaking off the cuff.

Every week we gather here, and most weeks we find ourselves talking about the same thing: how upset, shocked — or frankly disgusted — we are by the Trump administration’s ongoing abuses of power. And without fail, at some point [the Art Professor] asks the question that hangs over all of us: “What can we actually do to change things?” 

For my presentation today, I decided to take that question seriously and I researched the phrase: How do we fight back against an administration that shows such disregard for the rule of law?

I’ve put together a handout with practical actions we can take on one side, along with contact information on the other side to make those actions easier. I want to be clear: I’m not suggesting that each of us needs to do everything on the sheet. But imagine this — if each of us devoted just one hour a week to taking action on the issue that matters the most to each of us, we would feel far less hopeless and far less helpless. 

And let’s be honest: if we don’t fight back now, if we don’t use the tools we have to defend our democracy, then future generations — your children and grandchildren — will pay the price. 

On the handout, I’ve organized the most effective ways to push back into three key areas where we can make a difference:

1. We can support the groups challenging the administration in the courts.
On the front of your handout, you’ll see three organizations that have been especially effective, with several more organizations listed on the back.

For example, Democracy Forward has brought 150 lawsuits in 2025 and has already won 100 of them. If you saw Rachel last night she mentioned some of those recent wins. These groups are doing the heavy lifting in the legal system — and they rely on public support to keep going. Donate. If you can. Become a member. 

2. The second way we can help turn things around is to recognize the importance of the upcoming midterm elections.
If we can flip the House, we can restore meaningful oversight, change leadership, and use the power of the purse to block harmful parts of the administration’s agenda.

The most effective way we, as individuals, can help is by supporting candidates in high‑stakes districts — especially in Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, Michigan, and New York. These are the places where small efforts can make a big difference. As we get closer to the election the Democrat Party will identify these high-stakes districts. 

3. The third way to push back is by taking part in public action — rallies, protests and especially rapid‑response alerts. 

Showing up matters.  And if you sign up for ‘Action Alerts’ from groups like Indivisible, you’ll get timely updates about who to call or email when something urgent comes up in Congress. Right now, for example, they’re calling for action related to ICE and Venezuela.
And there’s a major event coming up on January 20th, the First America Walkout. It’s going to be a call for impeachment. The idea is to leave the place you’re at and take to the streets at 2:00 local time, to “walk out on fascism.” 

In closing:
I’ve only highlighted a few ways we can help save our country. I hope you read the handout when you have time. We don’t have to do everything. But we each should and could do something. One hour. One issue a week that pushes back against the abuses of power going on every day in our country. If we each commit to that, we will not only feel less helpless — we will actually make a difference. Thank you. 

The ladies seemed to like my presentation and appreciate my handouts. In the end, what keeps me from going postal over what is going on in our country is belief that ordinary people like me, you and my Tuesday night group, can still make a difference. We may not be marching in the streets every week, but we’re paying attention, staying informed, and refusing to let silence become complicity. If that’s all we can manage on some days, it’s enough. And on the days when we can do more, we will. ©

P.S. In full disclosure I used AI to help me identify those three key ways to push back and to compile my contacts list on my handout. 

 GOVERNMENT CONTACTS

WHITE HOUSE
Comments Line: 202‑456‑1111
Switchboard: 202‑456‑1414
Address:
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW
Washington, DC 20500

Find your Senators here:   https://www.senate.gov/general/contacting.htm

Find your Representative here: https://www.lcv.org/blog/how-to-call-your-members-of-congress-in-3-easy-steps/

KEY LEGAL & CIVIL RIGHTS ORGANIZATIONS

Democracy Forward
Email: info@democracyforward.org
Press: press@democracyforward.org
Phone: 202‑448‑9090
Address:
P.O. Box 34553
Washington, D.C. 20043
Website: democracyforward.org

American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU)
Phone: 212‑549‑2500
Membership: 888‑567‑2258
Address:
125 Broad Street, 18th Floor
New York, NY 10004
Website: aclu.org

NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund (LDF)
Washington, D.C. Office:
700 14th Street NW, Suite 600
Washington, DC 20005
Phone: 202‑682‑1300

Website: naacpldf.org

Sierra Club

Focus: Environmental protection, climate policy
Website: sierraclub.org

Southern Border Communities Coalition (SBCC)

Focus: Human rights & environmental issues in border regions
Website: southernborder.org

Constitutional Accountability Center (CAC)

Focus: Constitutional law & separation of powers
Website: theusconstitution.org

The Great Sleep Campaign of 2026

Navigating the healthcare system can feel like a full‑time job, especially when long‑ignored symptoms finally get the attention they deserve. This post chronicles Jean’s journey through a growing lineup of medical specialists, a parade of diagnoses, and a few treatments she never imagined discussing with doctors half her age. With humor and honesty, she explores the strange, hopeful path toward a full night’s sleep. It’s a story about persistence, aging with grit, and the small victories that make the whole medical circus feel worth it.  AI….

The past few months I have accumulated a few new doctors—specialists, because apparently our bodies are too complicated for one doctor to learn it all from the tops of our heads to our toes. I now have an ears, nose and throat doctor, a sleep specialist, an urogynecologist, and a gastroenterologist. I shouldn’t complain, because it wasn’t long ago that I didn’t feel like anyone in the medical field was taking me seriously. My internist has been my primary care doctor for 20 years and if I’d been in the medical field as long as he’s been I’d be tired of listening to people complain all day long about stuff that we’ve probably brought on ourselves. “You broke your toe? It’s those extra pounds you’re carrying around.” “You have a hang nail? Loss some weight.” He’s not really that bad, but between the two of us there’s been no follow-through with things like my stage three kidney disease and the lack of sleep I’ve been complaining about for five years. I only see him once a year, so you do the math—I’ve complained five times.

The recent turnaround happened during a visit to my primary care’s PA for a UTI—a young woman who actually listened and immediately sent referrals to both a sleep specialist (with a sub-specialty in general psychiatry) and a urogynecologist. I can’t get in to see the latter until April, but I’ve already seen the sleep doctor, who sent me to an ear, nose and throat doctor, who is now sending me to a gastroenterologist—also booked until nearly April. The end of January I’m set up to do an in-home sleep study to see if I have sleep apnea. 

The Sleep Doctor suspected I have silent acid reflux and the ear, nose and throat doctor confirmed it. The gastroenterologist appointment is to see what is causing it. Silent acid reflux can wake you up at night. The Sleep doctor’s diagnosed was partly based on the fact that I wake up sometimes moving my lips like I’m blowing bubbles. He also prescribed a sleeping pill with the side effect of making a patient hold their urine—which, in my case, is a welcome side effect. Since I started taking that, some pills for acid reflux, and using the below mentioned cream I’m only getting up 3 to 5 times a night instead of 7 to 10.

And since most of my readers are women, I’ll mention the most astonishing treatment for nighttime over‑urination: vaginal estrogen cream! When the young PA mentioned it and put me on it, I couldn’t believe it was a real thing until I got home and Dr. Google confirmed that it’s a common treatment for night time urination. Apparently we get “thin” up there (or down there—take your pick), and the cream helps “restore the health of the tissues, which become thin, dry, and less elastic due to declining natural estrogen levels after menopause.” That wall is close to our bladder and it puts pressure on it. But imagine my embarrassment when my new, very young, cuter-than-Tom-Cruise Sleep Doctor explaining how vaginal estrogen cream can help me get a better night’s sleep. When I checked the MyChart app a few weeks later, I looked at the notes he wrote and I discovered ten pages of my medical history—going all the way back to my tonsils being removed at three months old! AI must have been working overtime to compile our complete histories all in one place. I was shocked. 

On New Year’s Eve I had two glasses of champagne, slept for ten hours without a sleeping pill, and only got up once during the night. How’s that for a heavenly way to start out a new year after dealing with this issue for at least five years. But in case you haven’t figured it out, my next few months are going to be consumed with a hit‑it‑from‑all‑fronts campaign to get me sleeping like that every night—without the champagne. I have a spreadsheet to track my sleep, weight, blood pressure, bowel movements, nighttime urinations, what I drink, when I eat and what combination of sleep meds I’m taking and at what time. He wants me to cut down on over-the-counter Melatonin. And reading my history reminded me that back when I broke my ribs, a doctor who came to see me in Assisted Living told me that if I took an hour every afternoon to lie down with my legs higher than my heart, it would help cut down on how often I get up at night to pee. So I’ve been doing that again while enjoy old West Wing episodes on Netflix. It’s the strangest New Year’s resolution I’ve ever written—working on my sleep issues—but I’m hopeful it’s a resolution I can achieve.

New topic: Our New Year’s Eve celebration here in the CCC started at 5:00 with a plated dinner, a slide show of all our 2025 events and ended at 8:30 with a ball drop. Yup, I know—that’s crazy. Six of us did extend the official party until 10:30 by playing cards, and all but the white snowflake headband pictured up above were won in that card game. The white headband I wore to the party. Everyone else here recycles their old holiday sweaters but I never wore them during my work-for-a-living days, so since moving here I've accumulated dollar store headbands for each of the holidays. 

Below are photos of our plated dinner—all but the first course, which was a roasted beet arancini with a goat-cheese cream sauce. I thought the chefs made up the word “arancini,” but it’s actually a traditional Sicilian fried rice ball, and it was yummy—as were all five courses that followed.  ©

Our second course was a pear-endive salad of port poached pears, braised endive gorgonzota, toasted walnuts, lemon shallot vinaigrette.

Our third course was a pan seared sea bass with roasted red pepper, lemon coulis, wilted greens and vegetable blend. Everyone was looking for a four-leafed clover during this course.

 

Our forth course was mango sorbet in champagne. "A palate cleaner." It was really good!

 

Our fifth course was grilled lamb chops with mint pesto marinate, pomegranate, balsamic sauce, lemon rice pilaf, and blistered tomatoes. I don't normally eat baby lamb or baby beef but I have to admit this very good.

 

I dove into eating our sixth course before I snapped this photo. It was a chocolate lava cake with peppermint stick ice cream and chocolate sauce. Our chefs do a wonderful job with plated meals which they only do twice a year. This one cost $30, a five dollar increase since the last one.  

(I apologize for the poor quality of the photos. I have a new phone and while that's a handy excuse, the truth is I got in a hurry and didn't notice how "yellow" those white plates turned out before I posted the photos. By then it was too late to edit them and still make my dateline for posting.) 

Post Script:  Related to not sleeping well is Dry Mouth which comes from sleeping with your mouth open. I found a product that helps with that, a tablet that sticks to your gum, above your teeth, and it lasts about five hours. I find my tongue touching it when my mouth needs moisture and I can go back to sleep without getting up to rinse my mouth with water.