The algorithms have figured out I am a perfectly sensible woman with self respect and a functioning brain. i.e. a feminist. As a result, I find a lot of reels about gendered injustice. Women’s health hasn’t been properly studied, ever; men don’t do their fair share of work in the home.

I live with a man who has always done his share in our partnership. Gary does ALL the laundry, most of the dishes, most of the yard work, and I never have to ask. This week he emptied my sewing corner (the bins are now in the middle of the space and stacked over my head) and scrubbed the floors. My turn to sort and choose what to get rid of. Have I mentioned that Gary should be cloned?

This year has been “interesting”, a year of challenges and not always challenges Gary and I chose. I’ll probably post more about that in a years-end review. It wasn’t all bad, but it was all hard. On the other hand, the midterms might drive me to shut down for a while, maybe not for the reasons most expect. We both assume blue will do well, but trump will have hysterics and abuse his power. Some analysts are already pointing out the obvious, that trump likes only the bullies of the world and is determined to make the US the owner of the western hemisphere. This is not my idea of progress.

This week, I will work on my workspace that Gary has prepared—over 180 square feet arranged for me to use to quilt and sew. It is a part of my process that I clear off everything, sort, and clean (usually alone) before beginning something. I had been neglecting it. Gary pulled everything out into the middle of the space and cleaned the floors. He’s waiting for me to clear the work-table and begin sorting. I have materials I will never use, much that I would like to use, specific projects I’d like to complete: another 84″ square batik quilt (one pieced top is waiting for me to find the funds to have machine-quilted), a conventional cotton quilt top and backing, pillow covers, some things pieced of antique and vintage kimono silks, incomplete or never-started knits. I am no longer in the running for “The one who dies with the most yarn/fabric wins” contest, but I have incomplete work and finished work taking up space. I’ve submitted images of my woven and pieced work to a gallery, which might help me to dispose of shawls and baby blankets and queen-sized quilts. No one in my family wants any of it.

During a storm, maybe last December, I recall saying to Gary that I no longer enjoyed the winters on the coast as I once did. The storms used to be wonderful to me! Not so much anymore, as I recall thinking. [I would be walking the beach right now if I had not again injured one of my feet. I am hobbling, but hopeful I will be able to complete the 5k Portland Zoo Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day. Otherwise, I haven’t had a proper beach walk in days, so maybe that’s why I am feeling cynical?]

We both assumed people would often visit us at the coast, but that rarely happens. (Perhaps we do not adequately clean or the house smells to others of garlic?) Most of our friends when we left Seattle were showing dogs when we moved here in 1979, and we weren’t set up for guest dogs. Two couples our age visit. Though we drive to Portland in under 2 hours and back most weeks, our family rarely comes here and only when we ask insistently. Our neighbors have not invited us into their homes in years, and most never have. We speak more often to the people in our Portland building where we can walk everywhere. We would like to be able to host company in Portland and that’s not possible at “505”—what we call our little condo of under 600 square feet—but likely it would be the same issue. It’s enough for us, but not enough space for my workspace.

I once promised never to sell the beach house, and I keep promises when I can. The condo has home delivery of groceries and meals, nearby medical and dental care—what we will need nearby all too soon.

We will miss the view once we make the hard decision to decamp permanently to Portland.

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I have tried to make ordering my book, ALL THE DAUGHTERS SING, easy, but people continue to ask how to get it. I have no more than 10 or 12 copies available as of now. To order my novel, send your address, $20.00 + $5 for US postage and packaging to Jan Priddy, P.O. Box 1442, Cannon Beach, OR 97110. You may pay via check or use Venmo (email me for the other number you might need). Outside the U.S., please email me for a shipping estimate: andpride@gmail.com