Is this a "thing" now??

It's Labour Day weekend, and I'm bracing myself for all the back-to-school photos next week (and over the next few weeks) -- although I've already been seeing them from the States, where some schools start in mid/late August.  

This is the weekend a lot of parents are moving their kids into university/college dorms and apartments, and I have a couple of friends who are sending kids off to university for the first time. For some, it's their last kid to leave home, and they're going to be empty nesters. Lots of angst. (Needless to say, I cannot relate.)  

One such friend took both of her sons to their respective schools over the weekend -- the older one starting third year at one school, and his younger brother starting first year at another = leaving home, and leaving her and her husband empty nesters. I knew there would be photos -- but I was dumbfounded when she posted photos of a a beautiful silver bracelet her younger son bought her as a "thank you Mom" gift. (It actually spells out "THANK YOU MOM" in silver letters.) She also posted a photo of the necklace her older son bought her when HE first went off to university three years ago. 

Is this a "thing" now??  (Or did she just raise very thoughtful boys?? lol)  I've never heard of buying your mom a "thank you Mom" gift when you go off to school or leave home. Of course I never heard of "push presents" until a few years ago either. 

Everything is a production and a photo op these days, it seems...!  (And a marketing/sales opportunity for businesses too, of course...!) 

(Here's another example:  Older Nephew's Wife has been a bridesmaid for several friends in recent years, and apparently you don't just give gifts to your wedding party at/just before the wedding anymore, you also hold a party where you ASK them to be in your wedding party, and give them gifts then too!! At least, that seems to be the practice hereabouts.)  

Have you ever heard of this? 

*** *** *** 

On a related note -- this article from The Atlantic (gift link) points to another back-to-school trend I've noticed in recent years and been hearing more about lately:  elaborately (and sometimes even professionally)(?!!) decorated dorm rooms, mostly courtesy of the Bank of Mom & Dad.  

I mean, seriously?? 

Here's how much times have changed (and why I simply cannot relate to all the back-to-school stuff, beyond not having a kid myself):  

I arrived at university 46 years ago this weekend (Labour Day weekend, 1979). There were no pre-application/acceptance tours of campuses with parents in tow. (I can't think of anyone who would have been caught DEAD doing that with Mom & Dad in those days.)  My high school arranged group tours of the two universities and one community college in the nearby city (an hour away) for any students interested in checking them out, and I did go on all of those, even though I was pretty sure which one I was going to attend. 

Earlier that summer, one of my high school girlfriends and I took the bus into the city to register and sign up for our courses -- which, in those early days of computerization, involved filling in a form manually, then going around from one prof's office to another to get their signatures, and then standing in long lineups at the student union building with our chequebooks and forms to pay for it all). 

We may have taken a stroll past the all-female dorm we'd applied to live in (one of several on campus), but never set foot inside before moving in. We'd requested each other as roommates on our applications, which you could do -- but it was not guaranteed our request would be accepted. In fact, I don't think I knew until I actually arrived on campus that weekend who my roommate would be. And -- unbeknown to me -- she had expressed preference on her residence application for a single room -- should she not get one, she'd take a cheaper double room with me. Preference for singles was given to returning students. Nevertheless, she beat the odds and got a single room. I think I knew this before we moved in, but I don't remember for sure. 

My mother drove me into the city that day (I think it was on the long weekend Sunday, and I don't think my dad or my sister came). There was no specific set time (other than showing up on the weekend before classes began, during office hours); we just showed up. (I remember standing in a few lineups, but they weren't very long.) I think I had two suitcases with me containing mostly clothes and a few small items, maybe a few other things, and that was about it. I don't think I was too unusual in that respect (although of course my parents didn't live tht far away, so anything I'd forgotten or needed, I could get the next time I was home or they were in the city.) 

We paid my fees at the administration office desk, got my keys and meal plan punch card for the dining hall, had my photo taken for the residence directory, and headed up to see my room. The "proctor" (residence assistant for my floor) came over to introduce herself and invite me to go with her and a couple of the other girls who had already moved in to party/social event that night. I don't remember Mom helping me unpack or lingering, or any tearful goodbyes. I was, of course, only an hour away from home, and those were very different times. 

I knew my new roommate's name, but nothing else about her. When Mom & I arrived at the room on the third floor (it was a nine-storey building overlooking the river, built in the early 1960s), my roommate was not there, but her stuff was. I stared at the framed photos on the desk and other things, trying to guess from those clues what she might be like.  She didn't actually arrive until Labour Day Monday. I'd been out and when I returned, she was sitting there, painting her nails, a polished, petite blond girl. I was a little taken aback at first -- but very happily, after some initial awkwardness, we soon got to know each other better, became fast friends, and we're still in touch, all these years later,  

Like many dorms of the era, the rooms had cinderblock walls. There was one long shared built-in counter/desk, spanning the wall below the window, with a couple of drawers below on either side, and two bookshelves and two bulletin boards on either side of the window, two chairs, two beds and, on the walls opposite the desk/window, two small closets for our clothes, and a couple of drawers topped with a counter and mirror. The beds came with pillows, linens (changed weekly by maids;  we had to strip the beds if we wanted the sheets washed, and make the beds up with the new sheets ourselves) and thin bedspreads. Some girls brought their own pillows and bedspreads/quilts from home, which I did, eventually (nothing new, a castoff from my sister's room at home).  

There was a bathroom shared by the entire floor, with several (four, I think) toilet cubicles and sinks, which was often a gathering space at night as we washed our faces and brushed our teeth before going to bed. There was a shower room with several shower cubicles, and a couple of separate tub rooms each equipped with a bathtub and sink. A handful of  large rooms or suites were reserved for people like the residence council president, the head resident (an administrative role), and some of the residents who had lived there the longest, had larger rooms/suites with private bathrooms. I got one of those rooms in my fourth and final year by virtue of my seniority -- a double room converted to a large single with a private bathroom (including tub/shower unit) -- and I must say it was nice. :)  There were coin-operated washers and dryers in the basement where you could do laundry. 

Our rooms had no phones: there was a payphone downstairs. There were phone jacks in each room, though, and we could (and did) go to the phone company office at the local mall (a short bus ride away), and arrange to rent one. (Most of us got the basic black, dial model, which was the cheapest option.) My roommate and I split the rental cost and each paid for our own long-distance calls. Long distance, of course, was expensive in those days. The weekends that I didn't go home -- and I didn't actually go home that often, especially after the first while, and then my parents moved further away, which reduced my incentive to visit too often -- I would call home on Sunday night to chat (which was the cheapest). We also bought a small wipe-off message board with an attached water-soluble marker. Just about everyone had one; that was how we left messages for our friends and neighbours, in those pre-computer & pre-cellphone days.  

Over time, I brought more and more stuff from home. I think I already had an electric alarm clock-radio (with the numbers that flipped over -- pre-digital days!). I brought a desk lamp, and my portable typewriter, and a couple of favourite stuffed animals. We papered the walls with posters, bought at the campus bookstore and the nearby KMart (I particularly remember Peter Frampton and Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem from The Muppets over my bed, lol -- maybe because they're both visible in one of the few photos I took of my room that year -- see below). 

There was a full-sized refrigerator in the floor lounge (also a kettle and toaster), but my new roommate brought a small kettle/hot pot, and I contributed a small bar-size refrigerator (thanks, Dad!), and we assembled a small collection of mugs, glasses, plates and cutlery (many -- ahem! -- pilfered from the cafeteria). The parents also provided a small (12") black-and-white TV. Using the "rabbit ears" antenna, I could pull in a few (about 4) local stations. When I was in third year, my parents gave me a stereo for Christmas, which I'd been begging for for YEARS -- a turntable, tuner/radio/cassette . (I promptly burst into tears.)  I took it with me when I returned to school after the holidays, along with some of my LPs (and naturally I accumulated more over time). When I got a bigger room in third year, I made a low bookshelf out of a couple of boards and some bricks that a friend with a car helped me to buy at nearby lumber yard. 

There was storage space in the basement where you could keep boxes and trunks and larger items (like mini-fridges) in the summertime. We'd leave a note in the elevator for Tom, the good-natured caretaker, asking him to "please come take my boxes from Room 324 down to storage, thanks!" and then the reverse in the fall -- "Hi Tom, could you please bring up the boxes for Lori Lastname to Room 742" -- and they would magically appear in your room when you got back from class later that day. 

I lived in that dorm for all four years of undergrad, moving up to larger and larger single rooms -- and accumulating more and more stuff. ;)  (Textbooks alone took up a few boxes.) As I said, I arrived that first fall (1979) with little more than two suitcases. When I moved out in April 1983, my dad had to borrow a friend's half-ton pickup truck, and we completely filled the back. We borrowed a trolley from Tom, and made several trips up and down in the elevator and out to the truck, as my floormates sat in the lounge and watched in amusement. When we brought out the last few boxes, they broke out into applause. (Smarta**es, lol.)  

I cried as we drove away. It was the end of an era. That dorm was my home for four years-- especially once my parents moved away from the town where we'd lived for six years, and where I'd gone to high school. They were some of the best -- definitely the most fun -- years of my life, and I still think about it, and dream that I'm back there. 

I think I've posted this photo before? 
My side of my first-year dorm room, with standard dorm bedspreads and furniture.
Dr. Teeth & the Electric Mayhem & Peter Frampton above the bed. :) 
Fall 1979. 

"Death Comes to Marlow" by Robert Thorogood

I finished my previous book a week ago Friday (Aug. 22nd). That Sunday night (the 24th), PBS aired the first episode of the second season of  "The Marlow Murder Club," based in part on "Death Comes to Marlow" by Robert Thorogood, a sequel to "The Marlow Murder Club,"  which I read almost exactly a year ago and reviewed here. (He adapted the book for the first two episodes;  the remaining four episodes will feature two new storylines by other writers, featuring the same characters, but not based on the books -- we'll see how that goes...!)

I didn't think I'd have time to read the entire book before last Sunday night (and I didn't), but I figured I could at least read enough to cover the events of episode 1.  :)  Not quite, but I did get up to chapter 17 (36%), and (after a busy week) finished it this morning.    

The plot:  cryptic crossword maven Judith receives a call from Sir Peter Bailey -- a neighbour whom she barely knows -- inviting her to the party he's giving the day before his wedding -- a second marriage to his caregiver, Jenny Page.  He hints to Judith that he's heard about her murder-solving prowess and has something he wants to discuss with her. 

Accompanied by Suzie (dogwalker, now a radio host, and another member of the Marlow Murder Club), Judith attends the party -- where third MMC member Becks and her vicar husband are also in attendance, as well as Sir Peter's two adult children, both of whom disapprove of the marriage. But before Judith can speak with Sir Peter, there's a loud crash from inside the house. Sir Peter is nowhere to be found and the door to his study is locked from the inside;  when the door is broken down, the groom-to-be is found dead -- crushed below a heavy bookcase that has toppled over.  

The incorrigible Judith, of course, immediately suspects murder -- but all the potential suspects have solid alibis, so the police don’t consider the death suspicious. Once again, it's up to the Marlow Murder Club to figure out whodunnit...  

Like the original book, this was a fast and easy read -- light, entertaining, and quite funny in some parts, especially near the beginning.  

However, the same criticisms I had of the original book still apply here.  While it's great to see a strong older (childless) female lead character, Judith can be annoying at times (no wonder poor Tanika, the young police officer, gets exasperated with her). The writing style is rather basic: sometimes it seems like every little detail gets spelled out in full, and the book is probably longer than it needs to be. Case in point: like the original, Judith confronts the killer near the end and -- in a lengthy near-monologue, spanning TWO ENTIRE CHAPTERS and 46 pages!!! (on my e-reader, in a generous type size) -- explains how and why they did it. It's all rather twisty and convoluted and highly improbable.  

As for the TV version: as usual, there are some deviations/compressions/omissions from the original text -- particularly since there are only two hour-long episodes to cover the whole book in. Suzie and Becks's domestic situations/family relationships are played up more than they are in the book. Other details have been added, and some scenes are clearly played for laughs. A scene from the book, where the trio shadow Sir Peter's son, has morphed into a wild chase sequence where all three hop aboard a borrowed senior's motor scooter, with Judith and Becks hanging on for dear life as Suzie drives, roaring around corners and over speed bumps (!).  And once again, Rita Tushingham provides a brief moment of comic relief in a blink-and-you'll-miss her cameo role as the bane of Becks's existence, irritating parishoner Mrs. Eddingham, a character who doesn't appear in the books (the first two that I've read, anyway). As I said about the first season, while it's nice to see her in front of the camera again, and despite receiving prominent billing in the cast list, she's given little to do (has nothing to do with the plot itself), and is essentially wasted here. 

I gave "The Marlow Murder Club" 3 stars on both Goodreads and StoryGraph, and I'm sticking with that rating for this sequel as well.  

This was Book #25 read to date in 2025 (and Book #4 finished in August), bringing me to 56% of  my 2025 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 45 books. I am (for the moment, anyway...!) 4 books behind  schedule to meet my goal.  :)  You can find reviews of all my books read to date in 2025 tagged as "2025 books." 

A "new" approach? I think not...

Mel recently mentioned a post from Infertile Phoenix, in which Phoenix describes coming across her old basal temperature charts from her TTC days. She (Mel) was wondering if people still read Toni Weschler's book ("Taking Charge of Your Fertility"), which many in the TTC community regard as the "bible" -- or did, during my own TTC days -- and which promotes fertility awareness through natural methods such as charting your morning temperature with a basal thermometer. 

I told Mel in the comments that it's still out there! -- I've seen copies of the latest edition in bookstores recently -- and I remember reading an article not too long ago about it, and how it (like so many other things these days, unfortunately…) has become politicized, much to Weschler's dismay. This link is, unfortunately, behind a paywall (at least it was for me) -- and Pocket, which used to be my first stop in trying to get around paywalls, is now defunct -- but you can still read some paywalled articles via the archive.today website.  Try this link from there. 

I wrote about TCOYF and how I used it back in 2018. Obviously, it did not work for me! (nor did several subsequent rounds of clomid & IUIs) but I am still glad I read it and gained that better knowledge of my body and how it works. I would still highly recommend the book for all young women, whether or not they want children or are experiencing fertility issues. (Men should read it too!) 

I was reminded of these posts and articles when I saw another recent article from the New York Times about a "new" (new??) "natural" approach to infertility called "restorative reproductive medicine" (gift link), which is being promoted by both Christian conservatives and the Make America Healthy Again movement. TCOYF is not mentioned, but its methods would likely be included in such an approach. The concept proposes to address what proponents describe as the “root causes” of infertility, while leaving IVF as a last resort. 

"Physicians who specialize in the approach analyze patients’ diet and exercise habits, while helping them “chart” their menstrual cycles, a process that can help expose certain reproductive health conditions, like endometriosis, that may lead to infertility," the article says. "Practitioners treat reproductive health conditions but do not offer I.V.F." 

Although President Donald Trump has signalled his support for IVF and making it free of charge, Republicans at both the state and federal levels are now busy promoting measures to fund "restorative reproductive medicine," and to require insurance companies to cover it -- while continuing to downplay and dither over IVF.  

Of course, what they're promoting is far from "new" for anyone who has experienced infertility. Most of us who have ventured down the infertility treatment path have been there, done that, bought the T-shirt  -- charted, felt for the position of our cervix, noted our "ewcm" (and guzzled gallons of Robitussin cough syrup in an attempt to increase it), lay on our backs with our legs up in the air after sex, sworn off alcohol, changed and watched our diets (ate copious amounts of pineapple), taken extra vitamins, tried to lose weight,  tried yoga, meditation, acupuncture, essential oils, "natural supplements," crystals, and goodness knows what else -- and undergone umpteen ultrasounds, endometrial biopsies and sometimes laparoscopies and more invasive surgical procedures, before moving on to trying clomid and IUIs (with and without using fertility drugs) -- and only THEN moving on to more intensive (and costly) interventions like IVF. 

Leading medical organizations agree:  

The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists called restorative reproductive medicine “unproven” and “not a medical term,” stressing that many patients have already tried to chart their cycles, treat underlying conditions and make lifestyle changes by the time they arrive at an infertility clinic. While those methods may work for some, several leading I.V.F. doctors said people experiencing infertility often required more help — and months or years spent on restorative reproductive medicine could delay the I.V.F. they would ultimately need in order to conceive. Because female fertility declines with age, doctors said those delays could jeopardize a woman’s ability to get pregnant.

“They’re underestimating how hard we try to avoid I.V.F.,” said Eve Feinberg, a medical director of fertility and reproductive medicine at Northwestern Medicine. “When people walk into my clinic, we don’t do I.V.F. tomorrow. We try to figure out other things.”

Many readers agreed in the comments. "Only someone who has never gone through any fertility treatment would think the techniques described here are something new," the top-rated comment points out. "They are just the first steps in fertility treatment. If they worked for everyone, we wouldn't have IVF." 

Another highly rated comment (and there are lots of others in the same vein):  "I don't see any "restorative" treatments discussed in this article that focus on the MALE half of infertility..." 

Senator Tammy Duckworth, a Democrat from Illinois, is blunt: 

“They want to delay and delay and delay and essentially come up with fake science and ways to delay so that people can never actually get to the I.V.F. solution,” said Ms. Duckworth, who has had two children through I.V.F.

I'm all for better educating people about their bodies and how they work, and for more comprehensive fertility investigations at a younger age. (While I adored my longtime family doctor -- who recently passed away -- when I was 36 and expressed concern that I wasn't getting pregnant after more than a year of trying, he basically patted me on the head, and said, "Don't worry it will happen.  It actually did happen when I was 37 -- but we all know how that played out...! And I never got pregnant again, with or without assistance.)  

However, my suspicion is the powers that be will promote this "new" concept -- which might help some people, but certainly not anyone with serious fertility issues -- while de-funding more effective (albeit more expensive -- and more politically contentious) treatments such as IVF, and making them harder to access. 

A "new" approach? I think not. 

#MicroblogMondays: Odds & ends

• 
  Apparently Friday, Aug. 22nd, was Rainbow Baby Day (trigger warning: baby photos) -- and while I didn't spend a lot of time on social media that day, my feeds had more mentions about it from various loss/infertility/childless accounts than I've ever seen in the past. (I'm going to have to add this one to my calendar so that I remember in the future and it doesn't take me by surprise again!) 
• All power to those of you who have had your "rainbow baby(s)" -- but huge thanks and bouquets to those few lovely souls (many/most of them from the childless-not-by-choice community, but also a few who were not) who dared to remind people that not everyone is lucky enough to get their rainbow. 
• Of course, some of us might still get a rainbow -- albeit maybe not in the form of another baby. 
• Previous Rainbow Baby Day post from 2020 here.  
• I love Lisa Sibbett's Substack, The Auntie Bulletin, and I loved her recent post about "The Seven Blessings of the Aunties:  Here’s what Aunties bring to families." I feel like we're all potential "aunties" and role models to the younger generation, even if we don't actually have nieces, nephews, godchildren, etc. in our lives (at this particular point in time, anyway). 
• I especially liked #4 on Lisa's list ("Aunties teach kids about life's options"), although the text mostly reflects the childfree by choice. I would add that simply by our presence, those of us who wanted children but didn't get them can show by example that a good life can be possible even if it's not the life you originally wanted or assumed you would have or that all of your friends have. Learning to deal with grief, loss and life's disappointments and roll with the punches is hard, but it's a something we'll all find ourselves doing, one way or another, and we can help model those skills for the younger generation. 
• Sari Botton's Memoirland Substack recently featured a post from Natalie Frenkel, "Friendship and Fertility," about struggling to conceive, and the effect it had on her relationships with friends who could (what Jody Day has called "the friendship apocalypse of childlessness"). There's a lot here that's familiar!  
• Trigger warning:  The essay is illustrated with a photo of two women, one of them with her hand on a pregnant belly (!).
• This one popped up on my phone as a random Google notification -- about pronatalism and families, "legacy," living your own life on your own terms. It starts with a great personal story about living well being the best revenge (lol), and then segues into a more general essay about having a good life without children.  
• The article is mostly from a childfree perspective, but I was happy to see this acknowledgement:  "But for those who wanted kids and couldn’t have them — whether because of money, health, or life throwing curveballs — the emotional load can hit harder."
• Trigger warning:  The thumbnail image has a border around it of cartoonish babies, bottles,soothers, etc.  There is also a photo of a mother with small children.
• A few choice passages: 

But here’s the thing — choosing a child-free life isn’t some shiny new TikTok trend. Aside from the baby boom in the ’50s, history has always had its fair share of people saying, “No thanks” to diapers and playdates.

The big difference now? We’re actually talking about it. From smashing tired stereotypes to questioning what “family” even means, the conversation is louder — and bolder — than ever.

and

...different has a way of making people uncomfortable. Friends and family might need time to adjust — especially if they pictured your life a certain way. But here’s the thing: the person who has to live that life is you.

...At the end of the day, whether you raise kids or not, your life can still be full of love, meaning, and joy — on your own terms.

Sometimes, the most powerful legacy isn’t the one you’re handed — it’s the one you create for yourself.

• Not ALI-related, but this Substack post from Judith Hubbell at "Too Old for This Sh*t" deserves to be widely read and shared. It's one of the best defenses and explanations of feminism that I've read in eons. Bravo!! 

You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here. 

"Wonderful Adventures of Mrs. Seacole in Many Lands' by Mary Seacole

"Wonderful Adventures of Mrs. Seacole in Many Lands" by Mary Seacole -- the September book for my Childless Collective Nomo Book Club -- was first published in 1857. It was out of print for decades, but was rediscovered and republished in 1984. My Penguin Books edition was published in 2005, edited with an introduction by Sara Salih -- who, I was amused to read, is/was an assistant professor at the University of Toronto! My copy also contained a lot of helpful explanatory footnotes, and an appendix of contemporary news articles about Mrs. Seacole. 

Mrs. Seacole was born Mary Jane Grant in 1805 in Kingston, Jamaica, to a Scottish father and Creole mother. Her marriage was a short one, ending in her husband's death. She later went into business with one of his relatives (a certain "Mr. Day," about whom she doesn't have much to say -- and I would have loved to know more about the exact nature of their relationship...!). 

At a time when women lived rather restricted, sheltered lives, she had a zest for travel and adventure, and was trotting around the globe -- often unescorted -- back and forth from Jamaica to Panama, England and the Crimea (during the Crimean War!), running hotels/dining rooms, stores and other businesses, providing food and drinks and nursing the sick and wounded (on and off the battlefield), and even prospecting for gold. I found the Crimean War chapters particularly interesting -- I don't know a lot about that particular conflict (perhaps British readers would know more than those of us in North America?) -- but I learned, a few years back, that my great-great-grandmother's older brother served there and died in a hospital in Scutari -- perhaps the one run by the famous Florence Nightingale, described here. 

Not all of Mrs. Seacole's adventures were "wonderful," although she tends to put a positive spin on her experiences, and glosses over or omits certain parts of her story altogether.  There is illness and injury, and distressing descriptions of violence and death, including the deaths of children. Some of the conditions she lived in were pretty primitive -- the passage where she describes eating exotic animals during her time in Panama gave me pause...!  And while her business flourished as the war raged on, it collapsed into bankruptcy after the armistice was signed and the soldiers began returning home to Britain. The book appears to have been part of an effort to raise money to support her in her "old age," including a fund set up and donated to by some of the officers she had served. 

The somewhat florid and self-effacing Victorian prose may be a little challenging for some modern readers, although it's not an overly difficult read. The attitudes and language of the day -- racist, colonialist, nationalist, sexist -- are reflected both casually and overtly in Mrs. Seacole's words, attitudes, experiences and memories (particularly in the first part of the book). Be forewarned: the infamous "N word" makes a few appearances. There is some pronatalism too: although she had no children herself, she regarded the soldiers she nursed as her "sons," and many of them referred to her as "Aunty" and "Mother Seacole." Her dislike of the Americans she encounters in Panama is abundantly clear, and she dubs her Jewish Greek guide "Jew Johnny" (!) (although she also calls him "the best and faithfullest servant I had in the Crimea").  

Nevertheless, I enjoyed Mrs. Seacole's obvious zest for life and adventure, and her apparent ability to roll with the punches and deal with whatever challenges life presented her. She was quite an amazing lady, and she's regarded as a national heroine in Jamaica today. It's fascinating to learn more about these unsung/forgotten figures from the past, and I am glad this book was rediscovered for us to learn from and enjoy. 

3.5 stars on StoryGraph. I struggled with the question of whether to round that up or down on Goodreads;  I initially gave it 4 stars there but changed the rating to 3 stars after sleeping on it. ;)  An interesting and entertaining read overall, although not without its flaws. 

This was Book #24 read to date in 2025 (and Book #3 finished in August), bringing me to 53% of  my 2025 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 45 books. I am (for the moment, anyway...!) 4 books behind  schedule to meet my goal.  :)  You can find reviews of all my books read to date in 2025 tagged as "2025 books." 

#MicroblogMondays: End of summer blues

Maybe it's because it's suddenly the end of summer -- and I feel like we didn't have much of a summer at all. (Like, WTF happened??) Between the heat & humidity, the smoke, and the two weeks at Mom & Dad's, the buildup to the wedding we attended and Katie's day, it's gone by in a blink. (And yes, I know it's technically still summer until mid-September, but you know what I mean...!)  

Maybe it's because August holds a few too many grief and loss reminders:  Katie's day, the recent wedding of her second cousin (the same age as she would have been), the "anniversary" of FIL's death in 2018 (which I wrote about here, here and here)...  

Maybe it's because there was a sudden flood of back-to-school and off-to-college photos from American friends on my social media feeds today, reminding me of the photos that were never taken... (They weren't the first back-to-school photos I've seen -- they started earlier this month -- and they won't be the last -- I expect to keep seeing them through mid-September -- but they were noticeable!) 

Maybe it's because I realized that there are just two weeks left before the kids head back to school here -- and we still haven't gone for gelato yet this summer. :(  Or washed the balcony door/windows. Or done any of a number of other things I've wanted & needed to get done this summer. 

Maybe it's because the hordes of back-to-school shoppers were out in full force when we were at the mall last week, making it far busier than usual -- and I'm debating whether it's worth braving the crowds to go there again this week? 

Maybe it's because I'm reading reports that covid is on the rise again (and we didn't get our boosters this past spring -- the one date they were offered at our family doctor's office didn't work for us, and it looked like I wouldn't have qualified for one anyway, since I'm under 65 (!) and they tightened up the eligibility guidelines... hoping things will be different for the fall...). 

Maybe it's because the on-again-off-again Air Canada flight attendants' strike is continuing (despite the fact that they were ordered back to work), meaning a significant trip this fall to mark our 40th wedding anniversary is becoming less and less likely. 

Maybe it's because Little Great-Nephew #2 is suddenly sprouting teeth (and perhaps consequently, was crankier than his usually smiley self when we saw him recently) -- and his big brother (LGNephew #1) is on the verge of losing his first (!), as he enters first grade at school (!), reminding me of how quickly they're growing, and of the little girl who never got to grow up at all. 

Maybe it's because dh's allergies were acting up in a major way this weekend -- and thus HE was crankier than usual too. 

Maybe it's because the overall state of the world is so dark and crappy right now. (I don't think I need to list all the reasons why I feel this way;  you all probably know.)  What kind of a world are we leaving those adorable little great-niblings? 

Maybe it's because I had a lousy sleep last night -- partly because the joint where my left big toe meets the rest of my foot was sore, giving me flashbacks to when I had gout, four years ago (also in August!). It's not red or hot or swollen, as it was then (yet?), but I've been taking some ibuprofen as a precaution. 

Maybe it's because I was up more than a pound from the previous week (WTAF?!) when I weighed myself last Friday -- and almost 3 pounds from my pre-vacation weight. I'm basically back to where I was in March. :(  Still better than I was when we got the cholesterol lecture from our family doctor last October, and certainly better than my all-time heaviest weight -- but still a setback from the progress I'd been making. 

Maybe it's because I've recently had to back out of a couple of things I had previously committed to, and have been feeling incredibly guilty about it. 

Maybe it's because I'm so far behind on my Goodreads goal, with books I need to read and want to read piling up around me. 

It's been more than 40 years since I had to return to a classroom, but (as you can probably tell by now...!) it feels like I've had a bad case of the end-of-summer blues these past few days. 

On the bright side (because I don't want to be a complete downer here): 

Our 5th annual cottage weekend with BIL & SIL, dh's cousin & his wife (and, this year, another cousin too), is on for late September. :)  Something to look forward to! 

I started looking at places within driving distance where we could take a getaway for a few days in September or October. 

I had a lovely Zoom call with some online friends this weekend. Always a day brightener!  :)  

The extreme heat, humidity and wildfire smoke/poor air quality of the past few weeks seems to have broken:  it's a glorious 21C/23C humidex this afternoon (69F & 73F, respectively) with a nice, slight breeze, and our balcony door has been wide open all day. FINALLY!! 

Dh saw that I was in a blue mood and took me for gelato this afternoon. Wouldn't you know it? Our favourite gelato shop is closed on Mondays. We went to Dairy Queen for Blizzards -- again, lol. We've decided we'll try again for gelato soon -- like, maybe the Tuesday after Labour Day, when all the kids HERE will be heading back to school. ;)  It will be a welcome distraction -- something to look forward to -- (and an excusable reason to drown my sorrows in gelato, lol). 

How are you feeling as the end of summer approaches? 

You can find more of this week's #MicroblogMondays posts here. 

More odds & ends

• In a recent Substack post, Jill Filipovic discussed adoption and the still-prevalent (and increasing) existence of maternity homes in the U.S. -- many of them affiliated with the evangelical Christian right -- with journalist T.J. Raphael. Raphael spent two years investigating this subject and has a new podcast called "Liberty Lost," about one such maternity home on the campus of Jerry Falwell’s Liberty University.
• Many of Filipovic's posts are paywalled for subscribers, but this one seems to be public (so far!). 
• Also on Substack, Ali Hall muses on "Why We Need To Abolish the Phrase ‘As a Mother…’" (and absolutely NAILS it!).  (Hear, hear!!) 
• I'm ALREADY seeing back-to-school posts (from the U.S.) in my social media feeds!!  And here in the Toronto area, the CNE/Canadian National Exhibition -- think state fair -- started today and runs through Labout Day -- a sure sign that summer is almost over!  
• On a related note: Dr. Loree Johnson offers some advice on "Coping with Back-to-school When Facing Infertility or Loss."  (Or childlessness!) 
• Sue Fagalde Lick is winding down her Childless by Marriage blog. (It will still be around;  she's just not going to write anything new for it -- but you can still find her writing on Substack as well as her other blogs.)  You don't have to be "childless by marriage" to appreciate her penultimate post, "Your Childless by Marriage Survival Guide," in which she offers tips on navigating some of the most common scenarios facing childless women. 
• At "The Auntie Bulletin," Lisa Sibbett chats with Ragon and Kelly of the Kindred Spirits Book Club podcast about the the role of aunties and alloparents and "found family" in Lucy Maud Montgomery's classic novel "Anne of Green Gables."  As you all know I am a huge, lifelong Montgomery fan, but this discussion still gave me a few new points to think about!  Well done!