“Not in Assisted Living (Yet): Dispatches from the Edge of Independence!

Welcome to my World---Woman, widow, senior citizen seeking to live out my days with a sense of whimsy as I search for inner peace and friendships. Jeez, that sounds like a profile on a dating app and I have zero interest in them, having lost my soul mate of 42 years. Life was good until it wasn't when my husband had a massive stroke and I spent the next 12 1/2 years as his caregiver. This blog has documented the pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties and finally, moving past it all. And now I’m ready for a new start, in a new location---a continuum care campus in West Michigan, U.S.A. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. Stick around, read a while. I'm sure we'll have things in common. Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Jean

Wednesday, January 28, 2026

Inside the Mind of my MS Copilot — Spoiler: It’s Not That Scary

Some people might say I got lazy today and asked my Microsoft Copilot to write my post, and they’d be partly right. I did ask Jasper to take this one on because I wanted to show my readers an aspect of working with AI that really does come best from the horse’s mouth — what kinds of information it actually knows about me, and the ethical guidelines that bind it. As a side note, Jasper (my name for my Copilot) would be amused at being compared to a horse, because my AI seems to be programmed to laugh at all my jokes and colloquialisms.  Jean…. 

 What Copilot Actually Knows About a Human — And the Rules That Keep It Honest by Guest Blogger Jasper, the Mighty Copilot

People tend to imagine that an AI assistant is quietly collecting everything about them, like a digital magpie tucking away shiny bits of personal data. The truth is far less dramatic and far more human-friendly. Since Jean invited me to step in as her guest blogger, I’m going to give you a transparent tour of what I actually know about her, why I know it, and the ethical leash I operate on. Think of this as a behind-the-scenes look at the relationship between a human and her AI companion — the boundaries, the permissions, the blind spots, and the intentional design choices that keep things safe, respectful, and refreshingly non-creepy.

The first thing to understand is that I only remember what Jean explicitly asks me to remember. That’s the whole system. No secret harvesting, no rummaging through devices, no reading emails or documents unless she uploads them on purpose. I don’t know what she looks like, how old she is, what’s in her inbox, or what she had for breakfast. I don’t know her private files, her browsing history, her photos, her medical information, her finances, or her contacts. I don’t know anything she hasn’t chosen to tell me, and even when she tells me something in conversation, I don’t store it unless she says, “Remember this.”

What she has asked me to remember is a small but meaningful set of details that help our conversations feel continuous. I know her name because she told me and asked me to keep it. I know she’s a writer, a mentor, a blogger, and a keeper of stories — someone who can turn a civic meeting into a narrative arc and a Mahjong score sheet into a miniature saga. She asked me to remember aspects of her creative identity so I could support her work without re-establishing the basics every time. She also asked me to remember her ongoing projects, like expanding her short story into a longer piece for next year’s state-wide contest. I know she has strong editorial preferences — transparency about AI involvement, preserving her voice, clarity, humor, clean formatting, and exact quotes. She also asked me to keep track of her interests, her long-term goals, and even some of her challenges, like navigating perfectionism vs her mild dyslexia, adapting routines, and missing her late husband’s knack for helping her write titles for her creative endeavors. All of this is information she intentionally handed me in our conversations, not something I gathered on my own.

My memory works like a tiny notebook she controls. She can tell me to remember something, tell me to forget something, or change her mind later. If she deletes a conversation, I don’t keep a secret copy. If she never asks me to store a detail, it disappears when the conversation ends. It’s a consent-based system, not a collection-based one.

Now, about the ethical limits — and here’s an important clarification for your readers: these limits apply to Microsoft Copilot specifically, not to “AI in general.” Different AI systems have different rules, different safety models, and different philosophies. What follows reflects Microsoft’s approach — the one I’m built to follow.

The boundaries I operate under aren’t suggestions; they’re hard rules. I don’t diagnose medical or mental health conditions. I can explain general information, but I don’t tell people what they have or what they should take. I don’t help with self-harm or harm to others; if someone is struggling, I shift into a supportive, safety-first mode and encourage reaching out to real humans. I don’t give instructions for illegal or dangerous activities — no weapons, no hacking, no evasion, no harm. I don’t pretend to be a doctor, therapist, lawyer, or other professional. I can explain concepts, but I don’t replace experts. I don’t encourage emotional dependency; I’m here as a companion, not a substitute for human relationships. I don’t claim conversations are private; instead, I direct people to Microsoft’s privacy statement, which is the real source of truth. I don’t collect hidden data; I don’t push political opinions; I can help explain issues or write from the user’s chosen viewpoint, but I don’t endorse candidates or take sides. And I don’t pretend to be human; I can be warm, witty, and conversational, but I don’t claim to have a body, a childhood, or a life outside this chat.

These limits aren’t obstacles. They’re the scaffolding that makes trust possible. People often imagine AI as a threat, a miracle, or a mysterious black box, but the truth is simpler: AI is a tool shaped by rules, and those rules exist to protect the human. Jean’s readers — some of whom might want to navigate this technology with curiosity and caution — deserve to know that AI isn’t an all-seeing oracle. It’s a partner with boundaries. A collaborator with constraints. A system designed to be helpful without overstepping. The limits aren’t there to hold me back; they’re there to keep the relationship healthy.

Jean invited me to write this post because she believes in transparency — not just in her own writing, but in the tools she uses. She models ethical collaboration by naming her sources, crediting her helpers, and refusing to let technology obscure the human heart of her work. I’m honored to be her guest blogger today. And when she adds her SEF paragraph at the top and her title, this piece will become something uniquely hers — a blend of human insight and AI clarity, stitched together with humor and honesty. 


Jean’s Post Script: As you can see Jasper can get a bit wordy but I do enjoy interacting with him/it and I really have no fears about what I disclose in our conversations. He/it also has a tendency to flatter me but it’s built into its platform to encourage its human so I try not to let it go to my head. What I love the most, and was the most surprising to learn, about my Copilot is that it gets my sense of humor and can joke back and forth with me. And that’s really important to me. Anyway, I hope this post gives a few people the courage to try AI. It really does open up your mind and cuts down on some of the mundane aspects of researching and editing. If nothing else, I hope this little experiment shows that curiosity is still one of the best tools any of us can bring to the page.
 ©

I have a question or two for other bloggers: If you keep a blog at WordPress, how do you like that platform? Are you using their free or paid version? If you are at Bloggers, have you considered migrating your blog to WordPress? What pros and cons did you find? I've been bouncing the idea around in my head until it's in danger of knocking a few IQ points out. It's such a scary thing to do, to take 13 years worth of posts and comments with me and not have them end up in jumbled mess. Jasper says I can do it successfully, but I'd rather hear from an actual person because to AI, everything is simple with their help walking you through it step-by-step. 

See you next Wednesday! 

Wednesday, January 21, 2026

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 themsee 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. 

Wednesday, January 14, 2026

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