I don’t want a bonus offer. I don’t want 10% off my first purchase. I don’t wanna talk to an agent or chat with a bot. I’m not interested in your credit cards. I don’t care what you’re posting on Facebook or Instagram so remove those icons — they’re blocking your product! Also, I know you’re just complying with the law, but I don’t give a shit what cookies you use and I wish you didn’t have to keep asking me. Mailing list? Email notifications? Absolutely not! Now, why did I even open this page? Goodbye.

No matter where one starts to clean up around here, you’re bound to find some ponchos. Basement, trunk, garage? Ponchos! Orange ponchos, blue ponchos, green ponchos. Folded ponchos, ponchos with stuff sacks, solo ponchos, and ponchos in pairs.

We camped as a family back in the day and probably every time we made our preparations, I couldn’t find the ponchos I’d bought for the previous trip (see post “Losing things and finding them.”) Of course I’d buy new ones because camping without ponchos was inconceivable.

We have ponchos and back up for ponchos. I could open up a poncho shop if I was inclined to run a shop, which I am not.

Speaking of shops, last night while settling down to sleep, I got that ka-ching notification of an Etsy sale. To say it startled me would be an understatement.

Surprise quickly slid into dismay. First question: do I still have the thing that I just sold? Second question: if I still have the thing I just sold, will I be able to find it?

I’m happy to report that the answer to both of those questions is yes.

While I’m sitting here lampooning myself, it is snowing again. While I’m using two thumbs to communicate to you, I’m wondering about my tone (is it smug? is it feisty?), and it is snowing again. It’s supposed to snow all day.

The snow doesn’t care what I think about it and I’m not exactly sick of winter yet, but I am starting to wonder if there will be any end to it. March 1. Today is March 1.

Sometimes, things in life confound us, bore us, test us, perplex us. Sorry to be so opaque here, but this weekend I am thinking a lot about how my thoughts govern my reality.

When I was 15, I visited a friend whose parents had a copy of the book Psycho-Cybernetics. I read it voraciously over the weekend and my friend’s parents were gracious enough to give it to me. I’d pretty much forgotten about it but last night, by chance, somebody did a 42-post thread on the theories in the book.

It’s a lot about how we carry around an internal set point which determines the level of freedom, happiness, ease, and success we can achieve in life. No significant change can occur without addressing that set point, is the idea.

I’ve long believed that we each come into life with a bundle of anxiety that is unique to us. This idea appeared in a Cosmopolitan Magazine article back in the 70s, an idea which my mother espoused with some frequency and for which I naturally held her in disdain. How stupid, I thought. How simplistic. I believe they referred to the bundle of anxiety as a “bouquet.” Really? But I gotta tell you in spite of my initial rejection, the notion that we each carry around a somewhat immutable quantity of anxiety is one I have come back to again and again, particularly raising children.

I don’t know if I had a firm opinion about nature versus nurture before having children, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve tilted toward nurture. After having children, however, it was just so obvious that they come in in a certain way that the balance tipped decisively toward nature.

Like — boys loving trucks? I think it’s fucking genetic. I didn’t make them love excavators. They just loved excavators. Garbage trucks were a source of great happiness in this house for many years.

Of course it’s all more nuanced than that. (But I will tell you that when one of my boys asked for and got an American Girl Doll for Christmas, it became clear pretty quickly that he was mostly interested in her stuffed dog and travois).

My dog is sleeping after our snowy walk where I only slipped twice on black ice.

Anyway, thank you for listening to my ramble. I’m gonna go put a couple ponchos in the giveaway bin and bake some blueberry muffins.

(Also today):

If you are on threads, you should be able to access the post about the book.

https://www.threads.com/@viktorzlatic/post/DVRf1XhDf53?xmt=AQF0wTM7GNfmHx6Lvm-RrG_oqJz6zw0XHf0JMnYtSDi-dNxoxL66ymP74Ya_FJNIg0y7JXU&slof=1

Solved!

As mentioned, I was at school at UMass during the Blizzard of ‘78. Turns out Amherst received less than 7 inches of snowfall which, in those days of normal winters, was beneath notice. And without the internet or a TV and not being a newspaper reader, the huge amounts of snow along the coast didn’t really register.

Mystery solved!

I found a print with spiders. It adds a nice ick factor.

Arrived to Northampton yesterday in a driving snow. I once lived one block from here.

My Airbnb is in Amherst though. It was still snowing hard when I got here late afternoon but after I got settled in, it turned to rain. And then back to snow it went.

Today and Sunday I will write with others in a small group facilitated by the woman I did my AWA training with, Maureen Buchanan Jones. She’s brilliant.

It’s 6:30 a.m. Slept pretty well although this is the noisiest space! Not just the whoosh of heat and click of vents, but the popping of boards, ticking of god knows what. A steady stream of inexplicable sounds could’ve been unnerving, but I didn’t let it get to me. Otherwise I would’ve thought there was a raccoon in the kitchen or someone trying to get in the front door every other minute.

Watched three old episodes of The Closer on my laptop last night. It’s every bit as good as I remember.

But first, I typed up a scene from earlier in the week. Just to be a good doobie.

As for SCOTUS shooting down the tariffs under the IEEPA (they don’t address the ones imposed because of “national security”), let’s not get too excited. For three reasons.

One. It took them FOREVER to reach a stunningly obvious conclusion.

Two. Three dissented.

And finally, Trump’s immediate response was to announce new 10% tariffs. Under a different law (which I haven’t read about yet) but still. Very “nah nah — try ‘n stop me now” energy. (Actually it’s more like “take THAT you fucking bitch” energy). Later, he scolded the Court at a press conference because of course he did.

Does this mean we are at last in a Constitutional crisis?

Said with a weary voice since I think we got to the crisis part quite some time ago.

Off to meet the French press.

PS don’t get me wrong — it is very much worth celebrating that Trump got his ass handed to him by SCOTUS.