Burnt Chocolate Stories

I just remembered, a few minutes ago, that today is Saturday! I need to write a post to all of you. So here I am. In all fairness, I did a full day program yesterday, something I haven't done for years, although I do remember going out for dinner with friends afterwards in the past. Yesterday, I came back to my apartment and literally collapsed. Which reminded me, yet again, I'm no spring chicken. The experience was much more than interesting and informative. It provided me with some introspection. I've never been much of a team player. I'll do it my way, thank you very much. Years ago, a friend of mine and I created Moon Lodge together, a program to support new mothers, but we knew each other for years, shared the same vision.  We were building something together that we knew beforehand we wanted to create.  Yesterday, I learned first hand there is value in being with a group of people you don't know or have only met in passing, and creating something together. In ...

 A few months ago, there was a young man here, a cellist student, who performed for the residents at Saint John's. He had studied abroad, Spain I think. Some of his family and friends were in the audience. Saint John's often gives young musicians an opportunity to perform in front of an audience, a great use of our auditorium space.    Our cellist began with a very difficult piece and, unfortunately, lost his way towards the end and abruptly stopped. He could have pretended he'd reached the end with a fake flurry. Instead of being embarrassed, he laughed and said, "Well, I knew that might happen and I'm glad I got my most difficult piece out of the way first. Now I can relax." Impressive. I can offer the flip side of that. When I was a little girl, I started taking piano lessons when I was about ten years old, something I had been begging my mother to allow me to do for nearly a year. She was reluctant to give me lessons because my older sister had quit after ...

If you haven't seen the movie Joy , it's worth your time. It's the true story of the world's first in vitro fertilization baby in 1978. Robert Edwards, Patrick Steptoe and Jean Purdy were a devoted team that worked tirelessly for ten years to help infertile women conceive. At the very end, the commentary said that while the men received recognition and awards for their efforts, Jean Purdy was excluded and did not receive any acknowledgement until 2015, many years after her death. Seeing that sent me down that rabbit hole where I have been before, reading and learning about the many dozens of disregarded women who have given us great literature, scientific discoveries, art and research. Why were they excluded from recognition, rewards, history books and college courses? Is it fear or jealousy or both? Is that exclusion still going on or has it stopped? I've actually no idea. But I do think that it may very well be continuing, but, hopefully, to a lesser extent. In Ch...

We have John Calvin to thank for the work ethic that permeates our culture.  Wasting time sleeping too much or relaxing were literally considered sins. His belief system seeped into most American's bones and became the reason we struggle with so much angst during our retirement years. We fight against taking a nap, continually search for purpose and productivity during our waking hours, and feel we are taking up space that could be occupied by someone more worthy. It's as if there is someone out there taking measurements of our efforts and putting in a red check mark for any failures. Europe operates on a whole different plane. Especially southern Europe. Italians, Greeks, Spaniards never swallowed this line of thinking. They nap in the afternoons, eat a leisurely dinner, open their shops when the mood strikes them. I suspect their retirement years look pretty much the same as it has for most of their lives although I've no proof of that. So here we are, struggling to make ...

After about a year of marriage, Steve and I were sitting together on the sofa, not reading books or watching television, just sitting. Neither of us said a word. After about five minutes, I said, "Well, that's it. We've run out of things to talk about." We both laughed. I miss that level of comfort. The presence of another human being who I love, sitting near me, feeling grounded. We can never imagine what it might be like to be truly alone when we're married, especially after sixty years. Of course Steve and I took separate trips from time to time, but then there was the homecoming, the reconnection, the peace, believing we would see each other again. Unfortunately, there's no cure for the loss. But I've found ways to partially fill the void. I've taken on more tasks around here than I probably should, coordinating groups that have different flavors: newly single women, better known as widows, sharing lunch and feelings; the dining committee; a conver...

I'm probably going to get into trouble for this suggestion, but the issue has been on my mind for some time. Here at Saint John's political discussions are tabu lest someone be offended which I totally understand and support. In the past, we did have candidates running for office present their views, both Democrats and Republicans. But that has waned. In fact lately, we only have current office holders talking about their responsibilities.  I'm absolutely not suggesting we discuss the differences between the two party system that exists. Rather, I think we should have discussions about how government, any government, should function. What is it's responsibility? Is everyone on an equal footing, or do some people have more rights than others?  What about children's rights? In the beginning of our country, only men with property could vote. We have evolved, certainly, but it's only because each of us, in our own small worlds, have demanded change. What else needs ...

 Most Friday evenings, just as I'm falling asleep, I think about what I'd like to write about the next day to you, but if I don't write it down, I frequently forget the topic. That happened to me today. My daughter and her husband visited me from North Carolina this past week. We had a lovely time together and went to The Domes in Mitchell Park one afternoon, something I had always wanted to do. Some of my Madison family joined us yesterday which was a treat as it always is.  But now, I am staring out the window at the lake, annoyed with myself that I failed to prepare properly for this morning. As if that even makes sense. But the truth is, I do feel an obligation to you, to share some momentary insight, to say hello, to spend part of a morning with you. Not that you would shame or scold me if I failed to produce a missive. I would do that for you. So here I am, thinking about the winter that will soon engulf us with cold winds and hopefully snow. I say hopefully because I...

Yesterday, I was asked to say a few words to the Alzheimer's Walk Group assembled here at Saint John's. Because I lost both my father, in 1991, and my husband, in 2025, to this treacherous disease, would I give a personal experience comment or two. Here's what I said. "Maintain a sense of humor and remember, in their heart, your loved one still loves you."  The truth is, I didn't always have a sense of humor. I was a skinny cry baby. I was teased about my crazy eye and was something of a recluse. I never quite fit in with the 'crowd' and decided I preferred being alone. Childhood memories are often blurry, as are mine, but I know I was a wanted, unhappy child. I pulled my hair tight into a ponytail so that every strand was straight against my scalp, hoping that would help me fit in with the group somehow. Of course, that didn't work. Somewhere in the middle of my teens, I decided to laugh, instead of cry, when things didn't go my way. It wasn...

Sometimes a presentation, program, book or conversation can open our minds and hearts to a new way of approaching some of life's challenges, unexpected pitfalls, new horizons. Dr. Vitek Murthy, former United States Surgeon General, presented his views on loneliness and the importance of connection at Chautauqua this summer.  I had the opportunity to view his extraordinary interview here at Saint John's.  One of the more poignant moments he described was a visit he had with a patient who was frightened about the surgery she was about to have. He felt overwhelmed and confused about what he could say that would be of help to her. Instead of speaking, he simply held her hand for many minutes. Human touch calmed her in a way that no words or statistics or surgical facts could have accomplished.  Which is what made me think about what I miss most now that I live alone. Steve and I held hands when we took a walk together, pulled each other up from the sofa, sat together watching...

When I was twenty six and pregnant with our second child, Joshua, I went to Anshe Emet Synagogue to hear Gloria Steinem speak. At the time, I'm not sure I knew what to expect. I don't think I even knew who she was. A friend, whose name I can't remember, brought me along with her. What I do remember is it was a riveting experience. I was such an innocent woman, still a child in so many ways. I didn't know what homosexuality was until I was twenty one. Imagine. I wrote a paper on the Sun Also Rises and used the words impotent and emasculated as if they both meant the same thing. Needless to say I didn't do well in that class. The day I heard Gloria speak opened my mind in ways I hadn't realized were shut. She wasn't the first to point out the ways in which women lacked a voice in the world. But she was the most eloquent and elegant woman to speak out on our behalf.  In college, English literature classes were dominated by male authors. In fact I don't thin...

In the late 1980's, when my children were all teenagers, I decided I needed something to boost my self awareness, introspection, purpose. So I took a Wakeful Dreaming Workshop. If you've never heard of such a thing, you are not alone. The seminar took place in the family room of a Leader in Skokie, Illinois. I think there were only four of us, maybe six, a small group. One of us would lie down with our eyes closed while our partner asked questions to help us imagine a scene. "Is it warm, cold, sunny, rainy? Is anyone there? Do you see a path? Are there rocks?" And so on until the image you created in your mind provided a message for you to ponder. Then we would switch places so our partners had a chance to experience their dreams. It was a two day seminar with many different activities, one of which has had a lasting effect on me. At one point, I was walking on my path in my mind, daisies near the trees, a nice pond, a blue bird following me and the question I was ask...

 Every morning, I make a latte in my very old Nespresso machine that continues to limp along after providing me with coffee for nearly fifteen years. The frother died about five years ago so I purchased an inexpensive gizmo that does the job rather than buy a new machine. Sometimes I treat myself to a second or even third latte in the afternoon, which was my plan yesterday. Just as I was about to pour in the frothy milk, I knocked over the glass which broke, of course, and I had a clean up job which took a good ten minutes. I was aggravated with myself but not deterred. I filled the water dispenser, told myself to slow down and be careful and tried again. Unbelievably, I knocked over the completed latte this time so piles of milky foam floated on the countertop. At least the glass didn't break. If this had happened to someone else, I would have said "It's no bother. Don't be upset." But to me? Another ten minutes of clean up along with a great deal of scolding abo...

When I was a little girl, I never fit in with the popular crowd. My sister Sandy was ten years older and Eleanor six years older. They didn't give me the sibling support that they gave each other which made me something of a loner. There were other reasons of course. I was skinny and wore glasses from the age of two. My right eye turned in every other day which was something of a surprise to the many ophthalmologists my parents sought out. My mother could plan photography day for me weeks ahead, knowing which day my eyes would be straight. Finally, around my seventh birthday, Dr. Theodore Zekman agreed to operate and fixed that problem. But it was too late to stop the taunts from other children. I heard "four eyes" and "crazy eye" from other children which fostered caution in me. And a self image that has stayed with me, regardless of the facts. Childhood is a powerful experience that needs to be respected. A few weeks ago, I visited the nearby eye clinic to get...

Today is a celebration of sorts. I've posted every Saturday since August 9, 2025. No matter the weather, visitors or travel, I've kept my commitment to myself and by extension to you. Pondering what to write, what photo to select, whether what I have to say matters to anyone else are thoughts that flicker through my brain during the week. This fall, Saint Johns will implement The Eden Alternative to help alleviate loneliness, helplessness and boredom for those in my generation who find their purpose diminished. And, in spite of a healthy schedule of activities, I find this true for myself for which I have little patience. I learned, early on, that there was no feasible way to stop a toddler's temper tantrum. I just had to wait it out and then mop up the teary cheeks and fortify myself to say no, calmly, to whatever the tantrum was about. Likewise, managing teenagers requires buckets full of patience. But, today, impatience with myself and my capabilities has grown exponenti...

 My commitment to write a post every Saturday for a year, without fail, is coming to a close but I'm having too much fun to stop. I look forward to these mornings, pondering what I should share that others would enjoy reading. So I'll continue for the duration. Today marks a small milestone in my life. Three years ago, when Steve was still with me, we leased what was easily our tenth car. Once you start leasing, it's hard to switch to a purchase and Steve loved the new car appeal. But I thought, at the time, it might be a good idea to just buy what we'd been leasing and drive it into the sunset. But the young man who was helping us thought differently. "You are both in your 80's. In three years, you may not even want a car. Why don't you lease again and see how you feel in 2026."  At the time I thought that was a ridiculous notion. Of course I'll always want a car at my disposal. Why wouldn't I? I've had one since I was 21. A car felt like ...

Sometimes, like this morning, I have so many thoughts rumbling around in my head that it's difficult to focus. For one, the water and air shows are performing today. I'm not sure what the fascination is with hoses spurting water in circles is about, but apparently a number of people find it intriguing. This afternoon, the noise of the airplanes will frighten the birds and remind me of the millions of dollars spent on metal instead of human beings. But enough of my negativity. The silver lining for me this morning is that the constitution, combined with all the laws that have been passed during these last 250 years, is so complicated and convoluted, I'm convinced we will survive and thrive, but it may take some time.  Instead, I'll share a story that always makes me laugh. Mona Haslip began bringing students into her home after school and on the weekends to create art, music, literature in Hyde Park. Her dream of building a center for all these activities and more came t...

Steve loved to collect beautiful artifacts from a myriad of different realms. Antiquarian Silver, Natural Mineral Forms, Contemporary Art, American Scrimshaw and Asian Netsuke. Intrinsic beauty was the connection between them. As the collections outgrew our home, the idea to create a public viewing place was born. And in 1981, we purchased the dilapidated University Club in Evanston which gave us the opportunity to rebuild it. One room reflected Art Nouveau. Another Art Deco. A third Asian. Byer Museum of the Arts was born and open to the public in 1982. Why am I telling you this? Because recently my daughter Sarah and son-in-law Barry had some video films they uncovered in storage digitized so they could be viewed. And there among a film of Zoe's baby naming and Ben and Barry's trip to Jamaica was a film of the dedication for Byer Museum that no one knew existed. Seeing it was a trip back in time for me. The film is somewhat blurry and rambling but it was a treat to see so man...

Even on a beautiful morning of warm breezes and sunshine, I feel a heaviness in my heart. I should stop reading Richardson's emails because they are filled with the latest assault on our way of life that we've, unfortunately taken for granted for too long. But here we are, fighting an uphill battle to retain our rights. I'm a cultural Jewess as opposed to a religious one, which means I enjoy the traditions, foods, holidays, history and Yiddishisms. I have a mezuzah on my doorpost and often wear a Jewish star on a gold chain but my commitment to attend religious services often wans. But when the going gets tough, as it is now, I look for solace in my own historical past, and others, as the world has never been kind to my ancestors. There's a legend that originates in the Talmud (sacred, ancient religious teachings) that at any given time, there are 36 exceptionally righteous people who spare the world from destruction. They perform selfless acts of loving-kindness which ...

July is a strange combination of events for me. On the one hand, it's the month we lost Ben to ALS which is always a startling realization. Eighteen years ago yesterday. He'd waited ten months to be able to get a diaphragm pacer to help him breathe so he could spend more time with his son and less lying on the couch. We were so excited to see this happen for him but at that stage in his decline, minor surgery could become major which is what happened to him. A quiet ending for a spirited man. It's also my birthday month which is mostly positive, except when the number is the same as my father's in the last year of his life, it does give me pause. I'm celebrating in a strange way by giving up my car on the last day of the month. When I mentioned to my children that I was just thinking about it, to a person they all agreed this was a 'great idea.' I admit I was a little taken aback. Afterall, I'm a fairly decent driver, still comfortable on the highways, h...

Eight years ago, I had a bout with pneumonia and had to stay in bed for a month. At the time, I watched every episode of Call the Midwife and found it to be a compelling show, tackling some of life's challenges. As new seasons emerged, I spent a weekend binging. And now it has concluded so it was time to find a new show to watch. My new addiction is Silent Witness, also a British series that began in 1996 and is still going strong. Thirty years strong. That's 30 seasons with ten episodes each, which means there are 300 episodes. I've watched twelve seasons so far, seen my favorite actors leave and get replaced with new favorites. I just happened on it several months ago which was something of a lark. I do love a good crime drama, so I think that's what got my attention at first. For years I watched Law and Order, so I thought this would be similar. Not so. What makes this program so appealing is the story is told from the pathologist's perspective and we see the dev...