Superficial Signals

Autumn has almost descended upon the Northern Hemisphere. Influencers and stores are pushing different styles and colors. 

four brown leaves on textile
Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on

Oklahoma, of course, still has temperatures pushing 100 degrees. While not conducive to cashmere or leather clothing, fall colors can come out to play in clothing and makeup more appropriate to the weather. Cranberries, plums, and greens can mix with grays and blacks in lightweight fabrics and short sleeves. 

A rich berry or purple lip can also signal the transition. A new lip product costs less than clothing as well. 

There are also food choices that come with autumn, especially pumpkin spice everything. I’m not a fan of pumpkin stuff, but to each their own. 

How are you adapting to the change of seasons? 

At least it isn’t 3 years

The last time I posted, it was January 2021, and I have been absent from the site for 3 years. This time, the gap is only 8 months.

I have been in survival mode a lot. My workplace is making major changes. My parents are having issues in their mid-80s. Not exactly shocking, but still something to deal with. 

I have decided to start small with a goal of a post once a week for now. 

I suspect there will be a number of posts about what I have been reading (I do have a backlog of worthy books to discuss). And, of course, more about being a Glamma!

When Life Intervenes

I have not posted here since 2018. I knew I was ignoring the site, but I didn’t realize it was that long. A lot of stuff has happened to keep me away, but I will only highlight one.

Athen Grace Blevins

In December 2018 I became a grandmother (or Glam-ma, in my case). Yes, she has occupied parts of my brain, although not necessarily my blogging/writing areas.

I’m going to try and get to writing again just to keep my sanity.

Books and Booze

Lady Rample visits Hollywood in her latest adventures. While there, she tries a delightful cocktail called the Southside. Of course, I had to join her.

First, bruise a sprig of fresh mint in the bottom of a cocktail shaker with a muddler. Top it with ice, and then put in 3 oz gin, 1 tsp simple syrup, 1 Tbsp water, and the juice of one lime. Shake until cold and strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with more mint.

This drink is barely sweet and dominated by lime and gin with just a hint of mint, a perfect refreshment for a summer evening!

Too Hot to Blog?

Temperatures have soared above 100 degrees Fahrenheit* this week, with even higher heat indices. The only activities that I deem tolerable are binging TV with appropriate AC and hanging out in neck-deep water in the pool.

It’s summer; why are you reading blog posts anyway?

*That’s above 38 degrees Celsius for those in other countries

In Training

Many years ago there was a bored little girl who needed entertainment. Grandma to the rescue! She wore a silver cuff that she slipped off, placed it between her palms, said “shake ‘em up,” and then hid in one hand. The child had to try and guess which hand hid the bracelet.

Sounds like a snooze when I describe it, but the game could keep me giggling for quite a while.

Details from the cuff

A few months ago, my mother announced she had something for me. I had to take it, even if I didn’t want it. I could dispose of it, but she didn’t want to know. It was the bracelet, Shake ‘Em Up.

Trial run to warm up the bracelet

I wore it for the first time today with a rather bohemian dress. Some friends of my mother’s parents went on a vacation to the west and brought her this cuff as a gift. Until my mother handed it to me, I remembered it as copper, probably because it was chronically tarnished.

I wonder if she ever dreamed of that young grandchild wearing that bracelet, anticipating the birth of her great-great-grandchild? That’s what I’m doing. I’m warming up Shake ‘Em Up for the next generation.

Cocktails by the Book

Last week I needed some distraction, a light fiction read. Amazon suggested a new mystery series that I downloaded and dug into. Lady Rample is a vicar’s daughter whose Aunt Butty rescues her from village life and brings her to London. She married an older Lord who has expired, leaving her rich. His distant cousin is the only male heir, and the former Lord left only the entitled country estate that is falling apart to “Bucktooth Binky,” making sure that the London townhouse, Riviera escape, and all fungible cash assets went to his wife. It is 1932 and she has just completed a year of mourning as we begin book 1, Lady Rample Steps Out

She and her gay BFF, Chaz, end up at a secret Jazz club, featuring an Amerian band. Murder ensues, and our heroine solves the case before the police, of course. Throughout the mystery, she imbibes a variety of cocktails, but her favorite is a highball, basically whiskey and ginger ale.

The second installment, Lady Rample Spies a Clue, sends her to a country estate to escape the unseasonable heat in the city. Of course, her eccentric aunt, Chaz, and a variety of other characters familiar from the first book attend. Of course, someone dies (English country manor homes must be the most dangerous places on earth), and Lady Rample solves the crime. In the heat of the summer, they switch drinks in the country, imbibing Aviation Cocktails, something I had never encountered.

The color of the wild, blue yonder…

I googled the drink, and it was as beautiful as described in the book. The link above will take you to the recipe. It presented two challenges, since I always have gin and lemon juice in the house: Liqueur de Violette and Maraschino Liqueur. Lucky for me I had to stop and pick up some stuff at shoe repair, right next to my liquor store*. They had both in stock!

After dining and finishing my work-related reading, I got out the shaker and made a batch of this lovely stuff. Blue is such an underused color in food, don’t you think?

The liqueurs are both sweet, but the gin and lemon keeps the cocktail on the correct side of candy. You still feel like you’re drinking dessert, but not in a bad way.

These mysteries are fun diversions. Aunt Butty is like a British Auntie Mame, and Ophelia Rample is a 30-something widow enjoying a well-funded life with few restrictions, thanks to a title and enough money to shut people up. Love interests hang about, but she really doesn’t want to give up any freedoms to be a “Proper Wife.”

I look forward to sprinting through the next installment. If I find a new cocktail as well, what a bonus!

*Yes, I found a liquor store and shoe repair center next to each other. Fate is kind, huh?

Stop Lauding Jerks

Last night I went to a dinner with a distinguished speaker, an emeritus professor, who began by talking about past mentors in his field. One of these leaders is memorialized by a statue of him at a chalkboard because he was such an “amazing teacher.” The floor of the statue around him is littered with dimes.

Why? Because when a student, resident, or other trainee answered a question wrong, he would hand them a dime and tell them to call their mother because she was the only one who would love them now.

What an asshole! Instead of being a real teacher who allows trainees to make mistakes and learn from them, he humiliated them in public. And someone felt a statue to lionize this behavior was in order?

Too many of academic medicine’s “elder statesmen” laud the “tough love” of the good old days. Just because some of us survived and thrived under such conditions does not mean they were good for us. I wonder about learners who looked to other fields of work because they were too stupid to follow in this “great man’s footsteps.”

Teachers should have respect for their learners. Public denigration is never the answer. You can correct an answer without humiliation.

Frenzied Female Parents

Back in 1987, the year I gave birth to my firstborn, Diane Keaton starred in Baby Boom, my first recollection of the Frenzied Female archetype. Her character, a driven yuppie known as the Tiger Lady, inherits a girl from distant relatives. This hyper successful businesswoman proves incapable of hiring a competent nanny. Ultimately, she ends up moving to a farm in the country. After hilarious escapades, she starts a successful business and falls in love with the local veterinarian and her “less complicated” life with child.

Yeah, right. Now I must admit children do strange things to you and your ambitions. Priorities can get reordered in a hurry when that bundle of joy (and excrement) lands in your arms. However, no one’s level of competence should be as compromised as the character Keaton portrayed.

There are other examples. In 2002 Allison Pearson brought us the life and times of a British hedge fund manager, Kate Reddy, who also seemed unable to hire adequate help with two young children at home. Of course, the opening scene of Kate “distressing” store-bought pies to make them seem homemade was hysterical. Her professional life remains more intact than the boss in Baby Boom, but she still seems to be one misstep away from getting sacked all the time. Really? A woman who can manage that many currencies across multiple time zones can’t keep her calendar in check? Of course, she does make a career change by the end of the story. We wouldn’t want her to succeed at all aspects of her life, would we?

I just finished a nice debut novel, The Queen of Hearts, by Kimmery Martin. This time the Frenzied Female is Zadie, a pediatric cardiologist who has managed to not only become a pediatric sub-specialist but also has 4 children with her investment banker husband. Her life seems to always be on the edge of chaos, with a delicate time balance of carpools and events, yet she always has time to drop everything for her BFF from college and medical school. Her spouse is constantly jetting off to some foreign meeting, leaving her to juggle their home life. Once again, they have not hired adequate help for the lives they live. I have some bones to pick with some of the medical stuff in the novel, but in general, it was a fun read that kept my tablet in my hand. It was also nice that Zadie’s career does not suffer through the novel as in the earlier examples.

I’m frustrated that we see the same Frenzied Female.  In 30 years, we still laugh at that poor woman who hasn’t figured out that she cannot manage it all.

Over the years, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl has become a common trope in books and media, despite no evidence that such creatures exist. Most MPDGs arise from the male imagination, while women writers were involved in all of the FFP examples above. There is a bit more truth to this archetype, but I do wish it would evolve. Could we admit that we have someone (looking at you Amazon) deliver stuff to our home, rather than making grocery runs all the time? Or hired a nanny who can actually do the job of hauling children around town?

The life of the FFP can be chaotic, madcap, and funny, but women do not lose their ability to organize and function while they raise children. All of these are women with money and resources, those best able to take on the child raising role. If we can’t picture these educated, well-paid women doing these tasks, what hope do working-class families have?

A Million Tiny Wounds

Everyone in the medical community seems to be concerned about physician burn-out and suicide. All the solutions I see seem to add to the problem:

  • More training modules!
  • Meditation!
  • Work-life balance tools!

Shall I go on? I believe part of the problem is we have so many boxes to tick off:

  • Value!
  • Patient satisfaction!
  • Maintenance of Certification!
  • Quality Improvement!
  • Meaningful Use!
  • Complete Billing!

We are not being killed by big changes in medicine; we are dying by a million tiny wounds, each inflicted with good intentions, but altogether just as fatal as a single stroke with a machete.