Getting Older is Strange

January 17, 2026 — Pat Bertram

Getting older is strange, to put it mildly. Watching one’s body slowly change and not for the better, feeling one’s energy deplete, wondering if simple memory loss such as not remembering a word is indicative of a more severe decline.

So far, none of those issues is that great a deal for me. I’ve learned to accept my mild infirmities — the joints that don’t always work well, the cough that lingers too long, the words that elude me. One thing I have not yet learned to interpret is what to do when I have no energy — should I take it easy? Or should I . . . not?

When I was younger and had bouts of enervation, I could contribute them to allergies (my allergies were more of an energy thing than typical upper respiratory symptoms), an incipient cold, or laziness. Most times I gave in to the malaise because if I didn’t, I’d usually get sick. And anyway, I was young enough to get back into the swing of things once the feebleness passed, so if I ended up indulging my laziness, it didn’t really matter.

Now there is a fourth possibility to add to the rest: If I lack energy, is it allergies, a low-grade cold, laziness, or is it old age? If it’s one of the first three, I can treat the enervation as I always do — take it easy and indulge my laziness. If, however, the enervation is due to old age feebleness, I certainly don’t want to give in to it. Barring an accident or illness, or any other life-threatening problem, I could possibly live another decade, perhaps even two, and if I give in to sluggishness too soon, that lack of activity would cause additional problems.

I suppose one way to tell would be if the enervation came on quickly or if the energy loss came slowly over a long period of time, but even then, I get used to ignoring discomfort, so perhaps I wouldn’t notice slow moving debilitation. Besides, I’ve always been a low energy person. Throughout my years I’ve often exercised, but it’s been a push rather than a natural inclination. That’s why I read so much — it doesn’t take much energy to sit and hold and book. Even letting my thoughts wander doesn’t take as much energy as letting my body wander.

Speaking of which, the snow is gone, but I still haven’t resumed my intention of walking every day. I’ve been dealing with a low energy time, and don’t want to create additional problems by walking against the very cold wind. Brrr!

In the end, I’ll do what I always do — stop thinking about why I feel lazy and just grab a book.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

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Intentions and Unintentions

January 15, 2026 — Pat Bertram

So far most of my New Year’s resolutions are on track, both the intentional ones and the unintentional ones. My plan of taking a walk every day was pretty much buried in the snow a few days ago. Although the snow is melting, there is too much slush to for me to want to be out there; also I’m fighting some sort of allergy or early cold symptom, which gives me even more of an excuse to remain inside. I am doing well staying away from the news, though occasionally the news comes calling with an email or an inadvertent glimpse when I let my attention wander. I’m also staying with the no sugar/no wheat thing, though I am looking forward to some sort of treat when the month is over. (This resolution was only for a month, though the intention of sticking with real food is an ongoing one.)

My unintentional resolution of blogging every day is still on track. Fifteen days and counting! I never really planned to blog every day . . . I just started, and now here I am. It feels good to be back blogging. An additional benefit is that it’s getting me away from playing games on the computer, which is just as well. The hidden object game I play is getting tiresome, though I still log in and play a bit every day just to keep my hand in, but any sense of wanting to work toward game goals has dissipated.

One unvoiced intention this year was to reread The Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan and try to pick out clues to the real ending, not the ending we ended up with, which I am trying to do. Jordan, the one who created his world out of a mosaic of our history, culture, myths, and legends, died before he could finish, and the author chosen to finish the series did an execrable job. Not only was he at best a serviceable writer, he dumped characters that played a role through Jordan’s writings, ignored many characters’ development and regressed them to the beginning, traded established subplots for new subplots of his own that added nothing to the story, destroyed his own timeline so that things happened in no order (even seemingly having one character in two places at a time and two characters meeting where their timelines couldn’t have intersected).

[What astonishes me about those ersatz books is how protective everyone is of that substitute author. There are no one- and two-star ratings of his offerings, though there are plenty of low ratings when it comes to Jordan’s books. (Admittedly, some of those are deserved. Although much of Jordan’s story is brilliant and shows the ten years he spent researching, and his writing seems epic at times, it could do with a serious editing, including slashing huge sections of a couple of books.) I did find one review that was an honest critique of the last three books, yet the overwhelming response to the thoughtful piece was that the review was “overwrought drivel” written by an angry fan. (Even though the reviewer admitted he wasn’t a fan.)]

I read this series multiple times because after volume 6, I could no long remember what had happened in volume one. Most of the brilliance in the series comes from foreshadowing, and it’s hard to tell when a foreshadowed event occurs when you can’t remember the foreshadowing. So now I am able to remember the story going both ways — what I’ve read and what I’m going to read. Unfortunately, now I can’t forget those last three mishmash books by the substitute author in order to come up with my own ending as foreshadowed by Jordan’s writings.

I am not a fan of these books so much as a student, which is why I want to puzzle out the real ending. (Something to occupy my mind, if nothing else.) Perhaps as I find more of the clues to the ending Jordan intended, I’ll be able to override in my mind the bad ending with one of my own concoction.

Meantime, the year progresses. Already halfway through January! And my intentions (and unintentions) are still holding strong.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

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The Glad Game

January 10, 2026 — Pat Bertram
Daily writing prompt
Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?
View all responses

Books have always been a part of my life, so it’s no wonder a few of the items I remember from my childhood were my books, all hand-me downs from my much older cousin. It’s possible they were even handed down to her, because they were old by the time I got them. Most I remember reading, but have no clear memory of author or title except for the Judy Bolton mysteries and a boxed set of five vintage Pollyanna books.

Whenever I got sick, I used to read those books. I must have been sick a lot since I read those books dozens of times. I gave away most of the books when I grew up, but I kept the Pollyanna books for years. A friend had once asked for them, and when I needed to downsize, I gave them to her. I have no idea what has happened to them since, but a single early edition of the Pollyanna books is worth about $2,000, which means the set would be worth a small fortune.

I can’t actually say I was incredibly attached to those Pollyanna books because obviously, I did give them away at some point. But no matter where they are now, and whatever they are worth today, all I know is that when I was a child, sick in bed, they were priceless.

Oddly, I was never enamored of her glad game — I could never see the point of being glad one didn’t need crutches when one wanted a doll (but oh, the irony that she ended up needing crutches after all!) — but I will play the game this once. I was very glad of those books!

Is there something you once were glad to have owned?

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

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Occupying My Mind

March 23, 2025 — Pat Bertram

This March seems interminably long, though I don’t really know why. I’ve had spurts of activity, such as the celebrations for my house anniversary (six years!) as well as an occasional visit with friends. I haven’t spent much time outside, and there really hasn’t been any reason to. After the first shy crocuses showed their faces, there hasn’t been much change in my yard. Some of my grass is greening up, some looks dead, though I hope it’s just slow coming out of dormancy. In any case, I threw out some grass seed, but it looks as if the birds are eating it despite the feast the neighbors provide for them. And then there’s the wind. The least said about that the better! Coincidentally, today’s blog prompt from WordPress is “What is your favorite kind of weather?” One thing I can tell you, it’s not wind!

You’d think as slowly as this month is passing, I’d be more aware of the days as they come, but the first day of spring passed me by. It’s possible the upcoming fifteenth anniversary of Jeff’s death might pass me by, too, though I doubt it. Even if it does, the actually date no longer makes a difference. He’s still a factor in my life, as is his absence, but not as much as either used to be. Surprisingly, I still sometimes feel a tightening behind my eyes, but it never gets to the point of tears or even sadness. Just an acknowledgment that once he was a big part of my life and now he’s not. I still talk to him occasionally, mostly about things I can’t really talk to anyone else about. Silly things, like my thoughts about The Wheel of Time books.

Yep, still rereading those dang books. I’m on my second reread this year. It’s gone beyond reading to studying, since for every page I read, I spend twice as much time online finding out about the books, such as the real-life influences of the story. Lots of myths, legends, religions, philosophies come into play. Lots of very obvious King Arthur references. It amazes me how long it takes some people to make those correlations, if they ever do. In fact, the author’s wife/editor supposedly didn’t even realize the connection between the book’s mystical sword in the Stone (the Stone in the story is a fort) with Excalibur until she was writing the blurb for one of the books.

I’m also trying to figure out the real ending. Robert Jordan died before he could finish, and the guy they got to write the last books wrote something — I don’t really know what it is that he wrote. Despite the use of the characters and setting of Jordan’s world, those last books bear little relationship to Jordan’s cosmology. The savior character was supposed to be more of an Arthurian savior rather than a Christian one, but we got a Christian one that completely subverted the premise laid out in the first eleven books. What shocked me is that on none of those last three execrable books is there a rating below three stars on Amazon. There are some one- and two-star ratings on Goodreads, but those ratings are for the entire series. (Which makes me wonder, if those raters hated the books that much, why did they bother to read them? Four million words is a huge commitment, and not something you undertake if you hate the books.)

Another thing I don’t understand — Jordan had a team working on the books: his wife/editor, a continuity editor/research assistant, and a keeper of the timeline. Why didn’t all these people prepare a synopsis for the replacement author reminding him of each character’s arc and a brief compendium of what forces are ready to face the last battle, and where they all were on the timeline? One of the very many problems with those last books is they completely ignore any character growth and start over from scratch. Another problem is they ignore the fact that Jordan had already maneuvered the major forces into place for the last battle. I suppose I wouldn’t be as challenged to find the real ending if at least those books had some sort of internal consistency, but they don’t. Thousands of words are spent on one character deciding — yet again — to be a leader. Along the way, he forged a hammer (borrowing one of the pseudo-author’s gimmicks from his own books.) But then the character never leads in the last battle. He took his followers to the battlefield and then went off and did his own thing. Nor did he use that ridiculous hammer in the last battle. Huh? And readers never even noticed? That in itself should get a rating demotion. Quite frankly, I have never been able to read anything by that author, and he lives down to my expectations.

Somewhere in all those words Jordan wrote, there must be clues to the real ending. I suppose finding that ending is as good a use of my time — and brain power — as any. I’m thinking of using one of my defunct blogs for setting out the clues as I find them rather than bore you with the saga, but who knows. I could always tag the posts with The Wheel of Time moniker so you can ignore them if you wish. And anyway, the winds might die down, spring might come, my grass might grow, my flowers might bloom, and so other things will occupy my mind.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

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Whatever Comes to Mind

February 8, 2025 — Pat Bertram

I’m trying to get back into blogging, starting with perhaps one blog a month, but the problem is the same one I’ve had ever since I stopped blogging every day — nothing to say. That didn’t stop me all those years of being a dedicated blogger — I just wrote whatever came to mind.

And what’s coming to mind, after seeing those dashes in my first two sentences, is that supposedly, if you see a lot of dashes in text, it’s probably written by an artificial intelligence (though if it’s artificial, can it be intelligent? Doesn’t intelligence signify a mind or at least a brain?). I might not be an artificial intelligence (might not even be much of a natural intelligence anymore for that matter), but I do tend to use a lot of dashes. And parentheses.

To be honest, I don’t see the point of using computer “intelligence” programs to write. The point of writing is to be yourself, to dig the truth from somewhere deep inside, and it seems that using those programs buries the truth deeper. Besides, the point of reading is to meet mind to mind. It’s an utterly human ability — to perceive in one’s own mind via twenty-six symbols something that someone else conceived in their mind. Anything else is just . . . words. Drivel.

Even worse, as artificial intelligence works today, it’s basically a form of plagiarism. Of course, people can take that plagiarized writing and rework it so that it’s not exact, in which case it’s not legally plagiarism, but it’s still morally plagiarism.

I think about this a lot lately as I am re-re-re-re-rereading Wheel of Time books. There is no way that series could ever have been written by any an artificial intelligence, or even a minor natural intelligence. Written to appeal to the young readers of fantasy, Robert Jordan layers his story with so much depth that the series can be read and reread dozens of times and always a different tier of meaning can be found.

From my first reading, I’ve been ambivalent about the books. For one thing, I’m not a fan of fantasy. For another, a good number of those millions of words could be whittled away to make the story stronger. (That’s what happens when your editor is also your wife — too much dross is left intact.) A good number of scenes and even chapters could have been left off without any loss to the story. Or maybe not since readers seem to differ on what those unnecessary scenes are. Luckily, there is a thing call skimming text or even skipping chapters. But the bulk that is left intact, is sheer genius.

As I wrote before, the scope of the story is utterly astounding. In the story-world, during the so-called age of legends, people wielding the power that turns the wheel of time, broke the world. Mountains grew where no mountains had been, waters flooded lands, green spaces became deserts. And humans started over. Interestingly, breaking the world is exactly what Robert Jordon did when he wrote his series — he smashed our world into bits, mixed it all up — legends and traditions; countries and races, clothes and customs; myths and mysteries, religions and philosophies — and put it all back together into his own creation. Truly fascinating.

It’s because of these books that I know for a fact that Google’s experimental AI overview is not to be taken as truth. So often, if I have a question about the books, the overview is not accurate, probably because it forms answers from authoritative sources as well as opinions proffered in fan discussions — and there are a lot of those discussions. (As to why I have questions, it’s hard to keep track of a story that has maybe 2,782 named characters with 1,379 of those being point-of-view characters.)

I’m sure this essay doesn’t seem to tell you what’s going on in my life, though it really does. With winter limiting my choices, I spend my days with simple pursuits such as computer games, painting-by-numbers, reading (and this year, so far, what I’ve been reading is The Wheel of Time.)

I am lucky (and exceedingly grateful) there is nothing much to write about. I am as safe as possible, as healthy as possible, as happy (or at least as contented) as possible. I hope the same for you.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

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Secrets

February 4, 2023 — Pat Bertram

The fiction world is fueled by secrets. If no character had a secret, there would be no story to tell — at least, not many — because most often stories revolve around uncovering secrets, what people will do to keep those secrets from being uncovered, what the consequences are for letting the secret out both for the one holding the secret and the one discovering it, and how those secrets determine the lives of those affected by the secrets.

Some secrets the characters keep from themselves. Romance is a good example of this, especially in the pointless type of romance where the characters fight all the time to keep from letting themselves know the truth — that they’ve fallen in love.

Some secrets are silly. Again, romance is a good example, especially in the Hallmark Christmas movie kind of romance where the ultra-successful heroine goes back home to find that her first love has also returned. The secret they are protecting turns out not to be a secret at all but a misunderstanding stemming from their inability to communicate. An Affair to Remember is one such example and although it’s not a Hallmark movie, it’s just as silly — to me, anyway.

Other secrets are more serious — murders, hit-and-run accidents, hidden pregnancies, babies given up for adoption, false or forgotten identities, abuse that’s hidden by both the abused and the abuser, teen peer pressure that gets out of hand resulting in a tragedy that ripples for decades.

And some secrets are multigenerational — something one’s grandparents did, for example, that influences the current generation. Janeane Garofalo’s movie The Matchmaker is a good example of this, where a politician looks for his Irish roots in the wrong place.

(I am amused by my mention of movies since books are what I’m thinking of, but the sad truth is that I remember titles from movies I saw years ago and not the title of the book I just finished reading. It’s not a memory issue; it’s that I don’t really pay attention to book titles.)

All of these secrets make me wonder if everyone is hiding a secret, or if that’s just a fictional conceit. I can’t really think of any secrets in my life that would be enough to motivate a story of any genre. There are things I don’t talk about, of course — there’s no reason to bare my total past, especially the things I did as a child that I am ashamed of — but what small secrets I have are not enough to drive a story. I suppose there are things in my heritage that could be considered a secret since no one really knows the truth. For example, the story goes that my great-grandfather, an inventor and peer of Edison and Tesla, had two wives. One he locked in an insane asylum, the other he threw down the stairs, but no one knows which of those women is our great-grandmother. Not that it matters — we obviously get whatever instability we have from the paternal side.

It does give me a different perspective of the world, though, this idea of everyone hiding a secret. Because those secrets generally don’t devolve into murder and mayhem, I can continue to take people at face value.

But still, I wonder what all of you are hiding.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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“To Be Continued.”

February 3, 2023 — Pat Bertram

I like checking the new book section at the library because I don’t have to try to remember if I’ve read the book before. I know I haven’t. What makes it even easier is if the book is by an author I’m familiar with. But that doesn’t mean the book is worth reading.

The last time I was at the library, I picked up the latest book by a writing duo who sometimes have some clever ideas or convoluted plots. This book wasn’t one of them. Well, it was convoluted — so convoluted it made absolutely no sense. It turned out to be a sort of series within a series. Generally, in mystery series, it doesn’t matter a whole lot what order you read the books. Sure, sometimes the character has a five-year old kid, sometimes they are pregnant with that child. Sometimes they are married or divorced or engaged to the same person. But once you get beyond the out-of-sync life of the protagonist, the stories themselves are stand-alone.

I figured this book would be the same, but no. As I got into it, I realized it was a sequel to a previous book — in essence, I was starting in the middle of the story. Even worse, there were four separate plot lines — none of which seemed to have anything to do with any of the others. I slogged through almost half the book, hoping that at least one of the sub-stories would catch my interest, but none of them did. In fact, I couldn’t even figure out which was the main story and which were the substories.

In frustration, I skipped to the back of the book, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was going on, and though I read a chapter or two toward the end, it didn’t seem as if there was a conclusion. And there wasn’t. At the end of the last chapter I found the dreaded words, “To be continued.”

What??? You mean I struggled through 416 pages (well, okay, 200 of those 416 pages, but still . . .) only to be met with: “The authors apologize for what is, at least in part, an inconclusive ending.” In part? No, was completely inconclusive, nothing was resolved in any of the plots. Then the authors added that everything will be resolved in “a concluding novel which we are writing as fast as possible.”

Talk about a total cheat! I don’t mind series (or even series within series) where there is an unresolved mystery that ties all the books together, such as in Iris Johansen’s Eve Duncan series where Eve is always trying to find out what happened to her kidnapped daughter, but at least the main story in each of those books is resolved. To have not a single one of those four plots in the book in question resolved is . . . well, it’s a cheat.

There is a chance when the conclusion to the story comes out that I might read it. Or not. It depends on how much I feel like trying to figure out what clues I might have missed by not reading the previous books. Besides, the whole premise of the time-traveling portion of the book seems rather silly and too forced.

Luckily, there are other books in the library, both in the new book section and in the stacks so I don’t have to torment myself with books of this ilk.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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Not Happy Ever After

January 25, 2023 — Pat Bertram

I don’t often read romances, but I will in a book emergency, such as if I need something simple to read while waiting, if I’m not feeling well enough to focus on a more complicated book, or if I know I’ll be frequently interrupted. But I might be rethinking this policy and go back to my “no romance” stance of previous years. I just finished reading a particularly silly romance, where the woman owns a major hotel chain, is super rich, contented with her life, has good friends and a beloved godchild or two. What she doesn’t have is a man, though she’s not the one who feels the lack — it’s her friends who think she needs more in her life.

It turns out there is a man in her life — an employee who’s been in love with her for years. Frustrated that she doesn’t even know he’s alive (except as a valuable part of the organization), he gives his notice, then starts treating her badly. He doesn’t tell her what’s going on but expects her to intuit it. Knows she’s naïve when it comes to relationships (because when would she ever have had time for a relationship?) yet doesn’t make allowances for her naivete and expects her to be as knowledgeable as he is. He introduces her to his family, and when she gives an expensive gift to his sister who is getting married, he throws it at her and yells that his family is not for sale. He grabs her for a kiss and then pushes her away. All this is typical “grooming” behavior for a predator who wants to control another person.

By the end of the book, they are married and living in his house, he is running her company, and she is reduced to working part time. This is supposed to be a good thing because it allows her to do the things other wives “love” to do, like cook and clean and play around with hobbies. Yeah, right.

Since most of what I read are mysteries or thrillers (with a sprinkling of horror and science fiction), all I can think of is that this is the prelude to the real story, where he continues to distance her from her friends and ultimately “disappears” her.

In fact, Jeff once taped a movie for us that was similar to this extended story. The first half of the movie was all sweetness and light. The lonely young woman found someone who loved her and treated her well (unlike the fellow in the above book). She happily married him, moved to his gorgeous home in another state, and . . .

That’s where Jeff ended the movie. He cut out the part where the loving husband terrorized her before trying to kill her and so what was left was a nice, sweet short film of a misfit girl who finds her perfect fit.

Perhaps, in the end, that’s what this romance writer did — cut out the real story, got rid of the violence and terror, and left us with a short romance that was anything but sweet, and definitely not happy ever after!

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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Where to Go from Here?

January 22, 2023 — Pat Bertram

Lately I’ve been wondering where to go from here. I don’t mean geographically — I’m settled here in my house for the duration. It’s more about wondering what to do next with my life, if I want to keep doing what I’m doing, and if I need to do something more satisfying.

I am still blessed with a job that adds some structure to my life, and come spring and summer, of course, I’ll be spending a lot of time on my yard, an activity that makes me too tired to wonder if there is anything else for me.

But now, in the dead of winter, when I probably spend more time than is healthy inside — reading, playing games on the computer, and blogging a bit — I can’t help but question my life.

Reading is becoming problematic — too many novels are way over the top. Years ago, I used to enjoy Lee Child’s books, probably because contrary me had read a review that said women wouldn’t like the books, but also because Jack Reacher reminded me of a harder and less focused Kwai Chang Caine from the 1970’s television series Kung Fu. Whatever it was that appealed to me about Child’s character has completely disappeared. I’d given up reading the series long ago, but out of curiosity, I picked up the most recent book, and yikes. There is absolutely no redeeming virtue to either the badly written story or the character. Reacher has become a thug, pure and simple, a villain as bad or worse than any of those he tries to vanquish. The next book I read (by a different author) was just as bad, though in a different way. The characters’ actions seemed quixotic, unmotivated. They just did things, flashed back to the past way too often for any sense of story continuity, and yapped endlessly. Still, there are plenty of books that have enough of a plot to keep me reading, but it’s possible there will come a time that I give up reading again. Although reading often seems to be as necessary to me as breathing — and as effortless — I have gone through periods where I don’t read at all, once when I was young and depressed and books made me even more depressed, and again after Jeff died.

I could, of course, go back to writing my own fiction, but that is anything but effortless. Besides, I have yet to think of any characters that would keep me interested in their plight for the year or more it would take me to write the story. Oddly, although I am a writer, I have no real yen to write another book, probably because blogging scratches the writing itch and keeps me satisfied.

As for the game I got addicted to — I’m becoming unaddicted. It’s not as compelling as it was in the beginning, but I still play because it gives me a break from reading. And from thinking.

My knees are doing well, but not quite well enough to allow me to do the hours of roaming I used to do. I still have hope that my roaming days will return, but only locally. I used to spend a lot of time hiking, traveling or at least thinking about where I want to go, but my wanderlust, like my writinglust, seems to be sated.

Where I am falling short is on the social front. When I moved here, I jumped feet first into the social scene such as it is — going to the senior center for games and an occasional lunch, attending community dinners, joining various groups. When The Bob put a stop to all that, I reverted quite happily to my natural quasi-hermit state. Eventually, I started back in with one of the groups, but although I know I need the social interaction, I’m not sure I want to continue. The group is growing, which is good for them, but not so much for me. I get claustrophobic around too many people, and it takes all my energy to keep from running away. (The only reason I don’t is that generally I get a ride when the meeting is out of town and so have to wait until the end before I can leave.)

I am aware that my life is already too restricted, yet I’m secretly thinking of restricting it even more. Even if I don’t voluntarily make changes to restrict my activities, age and circumstances will eventually change things. For now, I am quite content with my quiet days, but it’s certainly not surprising that I’m wondering what’s next.

Luckily, it’s only two months until spring (though almost four months until spring planting), and then I’ll be too tired and too busy gardening and taking care of my yard to wonder where to go from here.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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Body Farm

January 6, 2023 — Pat Bertram

I’m reading a book about the body farm. In the first paragraph the name of the place was capitalized — Body Farm — and I wondered who Body was. In my mind, I pronounced it Bodie rather than Boddy, which mistake I immediately had to laugh at. I mean, I knew the book took place on the Body Farm. I knew it was a mystery written by the fellow who founded the Body Farm, and yet, there I sat, momentarily mystified by the identity of Body and wondering what we were doing at his farm.

I’d heard of the Body Farm before, probably the same way most people did — from a book of that name by Patricia Cornwell, back when I thought she was an okay writer. For some reason, I had the idea that the Body Farm was owned by the FBI since they use it for training exercises, so it came as rather a surprise that the FBI doesn’t have their own body farm but use existing ones.

The first body farm was created for the University of Tennessee Anthropological Research Center in 1981 by Dr. William Bass. Apparently, after a janitor cussed him out for storing a dead body in the restroom, he went to the dean to find a better place to keep the corpses he was studying. He calls the field (behind the football field, of all places) where the bodies were left to decompose “Death’s Acre,” but “The Body Farm” is how it is generally known. The FBI has been training there for 24 years as part of their Recovery of Human Remains course. There are now seven such “Bodie” farms in the United States, but Bass’s was the first.

The place is intriguing to read about, but even if I wanted to see the place, I couldn’t — they don’t do tours because if all the people who wanted to see the place were allowed in, researchers would never get any work done. Also, I’m sure, having sightseers tramp through the place would affect what they are trying to accomplish — studying how the human body decomposes under various conditions, which helps with identifying bodies as well as learning the time and manner of the death. Anyway, even if I could handle the gruesome sights, I probably couldn’t handle the smell. Over 400 different compounds are given off by a decaying body. Interestingly, the bodies of people who die during or shortly after chemotherapy decay a lot slower than normal, which leads to the question of whether chemotherapy is a sort of live embalming process.

This is all very macabre, I know, but it started with a mental mispronunciation. And speaking of macabre — like most people who read a lot, I had (have) a huge vocabulary. I remember once a father of the kids I had just babysat was driving me home, and I mentioned that something was “mackaber.” He laughed and laughed, which embarrassed the heck out of me. How was I supposed to know how the word was pronounced? And anyway, if linguists can’t even agree on pronunciation — some say it’s “mikaab,” others “mikabruh” — why is “mackaber” so outrageous?

I particularly remember the macabre debacle because that was the last time I ever spoke out loud a word that wasn’t in the common parlance. Now, apparently, I can’t speak common words in my own mind without recurring laughter, even if it’s my own.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

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