Thursday Thirteen #482

 Right on track. According to Goodreads, I should hit my target of 38 books completed this year. In May, I Thursday Thirteened the first books I'd read. Here is volume two.

All these books are linked to Amazon for easy reference. If you're going to buy them, though, please consider supporting a local bookseller.

1. Nothing but the Night: Leopold and Loeb and the Murder that Rocked 1920s America by Greg King and Penny Wilson. True crime. I give it 3 stars out of 5.

2. And Never Let Her Go by Ann Rule. True crime, 4 stars

 

3. Off the Menu by Stacy Ballis. Chick lit, 2 stars

 

4. Marilyn Monroe by Donald Spoto. Biography, 5 stars

 

5. Act of Betrayal by Edna Buchanan. Thriller, 4 stars

 

6.Trail of the Spellmans by Lisa Lutz. Mystery, 5 stars

 

7. Harlow in Hollywood by Darrell Rooney and Mark Viera. Biography, 4 stars

 

8. Rescued by David Rosenfelt. Mystery, 4 stars

 

9. In Pieces by Sally Field. Memoir, 5 stars 

 

10. Lincoln's Last Trial by Dan Abrams and David Fisher. Non-fiction, 4 stars

 

11. Dear Debbie by Freida McFadden. Thriller, 3.5 stars

 

12.Touched by the Sun: My Friendship with Jackie by Carly Simon. Memoir, 3.5 stars

 

13. Margin of Error by Edna Buchanan. Thriller, 2.5 stars

This list took my through June, July and part of August. How about you? Did you set any reading goals for 2026? If yes, are you on your way to meeting them?

Please join us for THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

I live in a warehouse

Rear Window is a great old movie about a man, stuck in a wheelchair as he recovers from a badly broken leg, who amuses himself by watching his neighbors across the courtyard. Through his binoculars he discovers who is happily married, who is lonely, and who is homicidal.

Since I'm on the condo board, I don't have to use binoculars to peer into the private lives of my neighbors. I am forced to read about them in emails. What I've learned is that what looks to the untrained viewer as a standard multi-unit residential building is really a warehouse for storing troublesome relatives. 

Second Floor: The Saddest Boy in the World.  He is in his mid-50s and has lived in this building, in the same apartment, since he was a child. In 2001, when I moved in, he spent all his time caring for his invalid mother. I think being alone with her all the time eroded his social skills. When she died in 2012, he took a series of part-time jobs (the local grocery store ... Macy's Department Store ...) but for various reasons he quit or was fired. He is like Eeyore. Nothing makes him happy. Nothing. While his home has long been paid for (no mortgage), there are still property taxes and monthly assessments. Legally the unit belongs to his sister, but they don't talk. At all. I suspect he's in constant pain, as his teeth are visibly very bad and he's told me about his recurring gout. I can't put too fine a point on this: His negativity is mind-numbing. He means well, but he's living embodiment of that old joke, "The food was terrible, and in such small portions!" Anyway, we got word from the County that the unit he lives in has been sold for property taxes. Meaning his sister (the legal owner) has approximately two years to repay the back taxes or the unit will go to the new owner. And The Saddest Boy in the World will have to move. I can't imagine where he will go or how he will cope. I don't know if his sister has explained this to him. What he thinks of as home, she seems to see as a place to keep him out of sight and out of her hair.

Third Floor: The Old Man. He's 90. I've known him for 25 years, since I moved in, when he was newly retired and vibrant. He was excited about "the ladies" he was meeting at the local library and was even helping one with her Avon sales. (He sold me some nail polish back in the day.) Today he is vague – either he can't see me or doesn't recognize me – and requires oxygen. He can't walk on his own. His daughters visit him regularly, though not daily, and they are staggeringly unpleasant. They complain when the cable is out because it's tied to his phone and then he's unable to communicate. (Not an Association issue.) They complain when the elevator is out for more than an hour or two because they need it to get him from his unit to the parking area. The elevator is original to the building and sometimes it takes a while to find replacement parts that will work. Besides, it's not like I can get my toolbox out and fix it myself. They used to complain about the dog that lives on the premises but upon learning its a service dog they finally shut up. After all, one of his daughters is a lawyer (as she loves to remind us) and I'm sure she understands the ramifications of discriminating against Americans with disabilities. Bottom line: He shouldn't live alone anymore. But the condo is in The Old Man's name. As is the unit next door, which they rent out, even though we no longer allow rentals. The Old Man was grandfathered in. As I understand it, once he no longer lives here and isn't, at least technically, an on-site landlord, the Association could demand he sell the rental unit. His daughters don't want to do that because they are greedy. If they sold both units today, they would get likely get a windfall of more than $350,000 that would pay for a year or two in a facility where The Old Man could get around-the-clock care. But if they wait for him to die, they can sell both units and pocket the money. I dislike these women intensely. Not just because they are bossy and whiny and rude – and they are – but because I think of The Old Man's quality of life alone in that apartment and it makes me sad.

Fourth Floor: Chris. The man at the end of my hall. I've posted about him a lot recently. He has mobility issues and struggles with neurodivergency. Like the Saddest Boy in the World, Chris has a good heart. But he has no respect for boundaries and doesn't pick up social cues. Our management office has let the condo board know that they have literally given him guidelines on how to interact with them. When he can't reach our property manager, he doesn't leave a voice mail. Instead he calls the main number and asks the receptionist "to go get him." If she can't/won't, he goes back to calling the property manager over and over, again never leaving messages. So now the property manager has instructed him: Call once, leave a detailed voicemail, and give the manager two hours to return the call. (I think two hours is more than fair.) Of course, if it's an emergency, Chris should call 911, but it's never an emergency. It's always something like, the trash man didn't put the bin back where it belongs. I asked our property manager why Chris doesn't just email. And here's where it gets interesting: 1) He doesn't know how to use email and 2) even if he did, his brother is the unit owner and so Chris wouldn't get the building announcements (water will be turned off for an hour, the elevator will be in use for a move, etc.), they go to his brother. And, as with The Saddest Boy in the World, the siblings don't communicate well or often. Unfortunately, legally, it's Chris' brother's responsibility/decision as to what is shared with Chris. If this situation doesn't get better, if Chris can't give the building manager a break with his calls, we're going to have to escalate this to his brother. Again, our building is just a place for Chris' brother to make a problem go away.

I'm so glad I have long-term care insurance. If the time comes and I can't care for myself, I can make the decision myself to sell this place and go live in a care facility. I don't want to be the relative that is hidden away out of sight. 

 

Photo by Doug Bagg on Unsplash 

Some days it takes more than a shirt

This is my official 2026 locker room shirt. It's identical to the one my guys wore as they sprayed champagne on one another after clinching a wildcard berth. It arrived from Wrigleyville Sports on Monday afternoon. I tracked the shipment and as soon as it arrived, I tore open the package and ran downstairs to do laundry. I had to have it for Tuesday, when the playoffs began. I was so happy.

 Then Tuesday dawned. I went to yoga and it was awful. My regular teacher, Rachel, has had to change her schedule for a few months and the instructor who has replaced her is ... not Rachel. I'm used to Rachel. I want Rachel. Rachel explains the poses as she does them and offers ways for students like me to adapt and still execute them. That's not what I got yesterday. "Let's do pigeon pose." 

There are more than a dozen steps to executing pigeon pose.  Our instructor walked us through each one as she did it, but all of this was new to me and I couldn't keep up. Then I saw I didn't want to keep up. I'm fat, I'm old, I have two bad knees (meniscus tear on one side, arthritis on the other). I plopped down on my butt and surveyed the room: just about everyone was following the script. Some with greater dexterity with others, but my classmates were on board. My new instructor saw me in the mirror and said, "Listen to your own body. Let your body determine your practice." She was giving me permission to do my own thing, and I appreciated it, but it's not how Rachel would have handled it. Rachel would have demonstrated the pose first herself, then she would have done it with us a second time, talking us through. She always gave us an either/or – "try this instead," not just "don't do it if it doesn't feel right."

Oh well, next week when I go, I'll know what to expect from this instructor. I'll come to class with stretches in mind that I'll go into when I can't/won't do what she recommends. BTW, this instructor is trying hard, has a lovely smile, and is probably good at her job. She's just not Rachel.

Then I tripped on the elevator. Yes, you read that right. It's hard to hurt yourself while getting into an elevator, but I managed. The floor of the car didn't line up perfectly with the floor of the lobby. It doesn't happen often, but Tuesday was one of those days. I was flipping through my mail, not paying attention, and stumbled into the elevator. The door closed behind me and I was sitting there, on my ass, my grocery bag on one side and my purse on the other. It took me a moment to raise myself up. I wasn't hurt, thank goodness. I'm grateful no one saw it. But I was annoyed with myself. FOCUS, GAL! Look down once in a while!

Then this happened.

 Now I never expected a World Series this year. I am a Cub fan. Statistically speaking, we grab the brass ring once every 108 years. 

But this year's team has played with such heart! We have a genuine unicorn in Pete Crow-Armstrong. Alex Bregman came back from a broken face! (I'm not kidding. The man is playing with eight fractured bones in his face.) Our catcher, Carson Kelly, has a legitimate gift for successfully challenging umpires. And so I was hopeful. And they were humiliated. I didn't even watch until the end, it was making me so sad.

Me, sitting there in my official "Clinched" shirt. I just couldn't bear it.

So I changed into my Cubbie-themed pjs and tried to put this terrible Tuesday behind me. Hopefully my heroes in Pantone 294 come back and redeem themselves tonight. I can't decide if I'll wear the shirt again. It doesn't seem to be have been stitched with luck, does it?

 

 

 

WWW.WEDNESDAY

 

 WWW. WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here. 

PS I no longer participate in WWW.WEDNESDAY via that link because her blog won't accept Blogger comments. I mention this only to save you the frustration I experienced trying to link up.

1. What are you currently reading? Bill Clinton: Mastering the Presidency by Nigel Hamilton. I am a Clintonista. I worked on both of Bill's presidential campaigns and am proud of it. Eight years of peace. Eight years of that economic rising tide lifting all ships. He was a Washington outsider, still just in his 40s. A Baby Boomer taking over the mantle from two WWII-era Republicans. This was going to be our time.

 

I forgot how exciting and messy – incredibly messy – the beginning of his first term was. As I read this book, it all comes back. Nigel Hamilton is a Brit with a talent for writing about American Presidents. His JFK: Reckless Youth is not only my favorite Kennedy book, it's one of my favorite books ever. But Hamilton doesn't do hagiography. I know I'm going to read some less than flattering accounts in this book and that's fine. I want to learn, not adore.

 

2. What did you recently finish reading?  50 Movie Nights by Dave Karger.   The TCM host asked 50 celebrities to name the movie they would recommend for a movie night. It had to be a movie that touched them in some way and made a lasting impression. Their responses surprised and delighted me.

 

CNN's Anderson Cooper chose Apocalypse Now because after he saw it as a kid, he wanted to travel up the river with those men and tell their stories. Ty Burrell chose the Pink Panther and explained how his lifelong love of Inspector Clousseau influenced his portrayal of the lovable goof Phil Dunphy on Modern Family. Now I'm not a big fan of either of those movies, but I loved those stories. I loved all 50 stories. There is affection on every page of this book, and it has given me new movies to look for and familiar movies to rewatch through fresh eyes. 

 

PS So many of these movie memories revolve around going to Blockbuster and perusing the aisles. I didn't realize how much I miss that experience. Streaming curates and makes recommendations based on my viewing habits, which is super convenient, but I miss being able to go exploring.

 

3. What will you read next? I don't know.

 

  

 

Sunday Stealing

DIY Meme

1. If you were trapped in a TV universe for a month, what TV show would you choose? (Kwizgiver) I'd go back to the 1960s-era nighttime soap, Peyton Place. I love the hair and the clothes. I love the drama and all the scandal. I'd have a hot month-long affair with Dr. Mike Rossi. He's the smiling man under the letter N. He was the kindest, most decent man in that sin-soaked town. He truly cared about every pregnant teenager, battered wife and alcoholic dockworker who crossed his threshold. Yet he could not get laid! Unfair! I'll be there for you, Dr. Rossi. Though at the end of the month I'm pretty sure I'd have to be killed off. Dr. Rossi was simply not allowed to live happily ever after.

 

2. What song instantly revs you up and gets you going?  (Annie) "September," by Earth, Wind and Fire 

3. Are you decorating your home for fall? (Lori) Nope

4. How do you treat a cold? (Syl) Lots of sleep, Advil for head stuffiness, and my trusty Vicks inhaler. I have depended upon these ever since I was a little girl.

 

5. What insignificant thing would you be genuinely annoyed if you lost it or it was taken from you? (Lisa) My white eraser. It was given to me by a vendor who made a presentation at the agency where I worked. Usually companies left behind notepads or pens with their names on them, but this one gave me an eraser. I love it. It's my favorite office supply. It erases completely clean and leaves minimal crumbs. I have never had a better eraser. 

6. What place do you remember vividly, even though you haven't been there in years? (Country Dew) Hot Springs, AR. It's a lovely town with natural mineral springs steaming into the sky. I haven't been there in 20 years and I wonder if it makes sense for me to go back, since the big draw for me was hiking up to the Hot Springs Mountain Tower and my knees just won't get me there now.  

7. Do you have a favorite Dolly Parton song or story? (Roger) I first became aware of Dolly when I was in high school. She appeared on laundry detergent commercials airing during Cubs games, which made sense because in those days all home games were day games and popular with stay-at-home moms. I didn't even know she was a singer until years later when she released "Here You Come Again." I'm so grateful for YouTube, because after Dolly died, I saw no mention of her early days as a TV spokesperson for Breeze and I thought maybe I'd dreamed it. (Though that would be a very weird dream, wouldn't it?)

 

 

  

 

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Don't Take Your Love from Me (1956)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) In this song, Doris Day sings about what happens when you take a petal from a rose. When did you last get or give flowers as a gift? Years ago. Though I am thinking of doing it over the holidays. My niece's in-laws may be hosting both sides of the family on Christmas Day and that's a lot of people! Maybe I'll send something that arrives a few days early so they won't bother with a centerpiece. Or maybe not. They have a cat, and a cat will look at a floral arrangement and say, "Salad bar!"

 

2) This song is about a woman who fears losing her love. What's the most recent thing you lost? (Hopefully it's not as consequential as a great love. It could be as small or unimportant as the back of one of your pierced earrings.) My most frequent request to Alexa is, "Call my phone." I'm always sure I left it either in purse or on the kitchen counter. You'd be surprised how often it gets up and moves itself.

 

3) Doris was known as The All-American Girl Next Door. Who lives next door to you? Across the hall is Zoraida. She works for Chase Bank (and has the most glorious eyelashes you have ever seen). Next door is Mark. Like me, he's on the condo board. I wish he was friendlier – then unitowners would knock on his door and not mine.

 

4) As a young girl, Doris Day was passionate about dance. She recalled that concentrating on her lessons helped distract her from the pain and embarrassment of her parents' divorce. When you want to escape from what's troubling you, what do you do? I read. I fart around on the internet. I cuddle a cat.

5) The maitre d' at one of Doris' favorite restaurants wanted to ask her out. Knowing how she loved her dogs, he impressed her by handing her a bag of meat scraps and bones to take home. They began dating and, in 1976, he became her last husband. What's the best way to your heart? I think I'm with Doris on this one. If I know you adopted a shelter pet, you automatically have a gold star from me.

 

6) Over her long career, Doris received Golden Globe and Grammy Awards and the Presidential Medal of Freedom. She was also inducted into the Ohio Women's Hall of Fame, honored for being one of the most celebrated women to have been born there. Name a famous person born in your home state. Illinois can claim four presidents: Reagan, Grant, Obama and, of course, our greatest President, Mr. Lincoln himself. Of those four, only one was born here – Ronald Reagan. He lived here through college and then went off to California to become an actor. 

 

He was born in Tampico, IL, but grew up in Dixon (about a half hour away)

7) She was frank about her financial difficulties, yet some people are uncomfortable discussing money. Are you one of those people? No. I've learned to be more circumspect because I know other people are kinda weird about money, but it doesn't bother me. Here's a true story: I was waiting in line at the bank. Two women were talking and one was wondering aloud if the dental hygienist could tell that she had recently performed oral sex. She was discussing her penchant for blow jobs but kept her thumb over the dollar amount of her cash deposit, lest I learn that about her. Go figure.

8) In 1956, when Doris released this song, The Wizard of Oz was shown on network TV for the first time. What movie have you seen multiple times? I've seen this at least a dozen times. Albert Finney is my Poirot. I love the idea of a luxury train. I love the costumes. I'd rather have just the cuisine and the clothes, but if I have to ride along with a dead body to get them, so be it.

 

9) Random question: Would you rather have a chef or a chauffeur? Oh, a chauffeur! 100%. I don't drive and it would be such a relief to never wonder how I'm getting from hither to yon.

 

 

 

Thursday Thirteen #481

Ouch! This summer I had sinus headaches for the first time in ages. In the past I've had migraines. So this got me thinking about that most ordinary ailment.

13 facts about headaches.

1. It's estimated that 96% of adult Americans have at least one headache a year.

2. Most common is the tension headache, characterized by pressure starting at the temples and wrapping around the head.

3. For tension headaches, most of us reach for Advil (ibuprofen). This could be because we already have it on hand. Advil is also popular for muscle aches, menstrual cramps and arthritis, as well. I know I also  have prescription strength ibuprofen in my cabinet for relief after my dental work. 

4. Deep breathing and meditation have been effective for tension headaches. They don't work for me, but I think that's because the inside of my head is like an old-school pinball machine and I have a hard time quieting it.

5. Sinus headaches became my new and not-at-all-welcome companions. For me they were triggered by allergies. They can also be viral or bacterial.

6. Antibiotics are often necessary to cure bacterial sinus headaches. Neti pots and saline sprays are popular for the other types. I treat mine with Allegra (fexofenadine). 

7. Migraines are so prevalent and debilitating that there's actually an American Migraine Foundation.  They refer to migraines as, "a disabling disease that affects over 40 million people in the United States."

8. Many sufferers say they are tipped off to the onset of the migraine by seeing lights or dots. Not me. Mine were preceded by nausea, which is also rather common.

9. Sufferers report cold packs help with the pain. OTC medications containing acetaminophen and caffeine (like Excedrin) are popular. I found naproxen (Alleve) swallowed with Coke most effective.

10. Cluster headaches are concentrated around the eyes and temples. Sweats often accompany the pain. 

11. In addition to OTC meds, magnesium can help cluster headaches. Bananas and almonds are also popular. 

12. Ice pick headaches sound just awful! They involve brief but intense moments of sudden and intense pain. 

13. Meds are not effective for ice pick headaches because, by the time you swallow the pain killer, the pain has passed.

Of course, I'm just a well-meaning blogger Gal. If you have recurring headaches, you should most definitely consult your doctor and not the internet.

Please join us for THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

 

 

 

WWW.WEDNESDAY

 WWW. WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here. 

PS I no longer participate in WWW.WEDNESDAY via that link because her blog won't accept Blogger comments. I mention this only to save you the frustration I experienced trying to link up.

1. What are you currently reading? 50 Movie Nights by Dave Karger.  I love movies, but I'm not always crazy about "best ever films" lists. I'm not into Ingmar Bergman or Stanley Kubrick or Akira Kurosawa. Maybe it's because I like movies and not "cinema."

 

So I'm enjoying this book by TCM's Dave Karger. It's a compilation of titles named by 50 celebrities as their all-time favorite movie. These are movies that most intrigued or delighted or inspired them. It's a book about pure joy. 

 

2. What did you recently finish reading?  Candy Apple Red by Nancy Bush. Our narrator Jane Kelly is a thirty-something California girl who follows her lover to a smallish town in Oregon. The man moves on without her but she stays. She was rudderless in SoCal and hopes to find some meaning/direction in Lake Chinook. She's been a bartender, now she's a process server, and through her legwork for local attorneys, seems to be slowly evolving into a PI. The case that she's investigating, almost against her will, is an icky one: The scion of Lake Chinook's richest family killed his wife and kids and disappeared. It's believed that if Jane gets in good with the suspect's dad and follows the money, he can be found.

 

I really wanted to like this book. Jane is a relatable heroine. (Maybe because, like Jane, I had a great love I always referred to by his Irish surname.) I did like Lake Chinook, a town on the water where people routinely go to restaurants and park their boats on the pier. But boy! It started slooooow. It should not have taken me weeks to finish this one. Maybe because it's #1 in a series and Nancy Bush takes her sweet time introducing characters that will be pivotal in future books? Also, Jane and occasionally other characters behave in inexplicable ways, just to move the plot along. It's an odd book. Until about the 75% mark I was considering DNF-ing, and then it ended like a house afire.

 

3. What will you read next? I don't know.

 

  

 

Sunday Stealing

Four Superlatives

1. Your MOST overused word or phrase: Probably "fuck." It's not my fault it's so versatile. It can be an adverb, an adjective, a noun and, yes, even a verb.

2. Your BIGGEST expense: Right behind my mortgage there's my Xfinity bill. It covers my landline, my internet/wifi, and cable and just about every streaming service. (Except Paramount.)

3. Your WORST fear: That I will lose my independence.

4. Your BEST memory of Summer 26: In late August I was at Wrigley Field for the Cubs' 150th anniversary. It was a thrill! First the greatest surviving players – including many of my girlhood heroes – came onto the field. Then this year's team won. My nephew and I had such a good time.

The team gave us fans this pin. I love it!

 

 

Saturday 9

 Saturday 9: Everybody Loves a Clown (1965)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) Not everyone loves clowns. "Coulrophobia" is the irrational fear of clowns. Do you have any fears or phobias? I am scared of clowns. I'm also afraid of flying (or, to be more precise, crashing).

2) This week's featured artist, Gary Lewis, sings that he jokes a lot at parties. In social settings, are you more a talker or a listener? Talker. Though my friend Patrick said I could take over for Kelly Clarkson because I ask such good questions.

3) He's dreaming of a special girl. Do you often daydream? All the time.

4) Gary named his band The Playboys because they were always late to rehearsals and Gary joked that they would rather play than work. Do you tend to be early, late, or exactly on time? On time or late. I'm never more than 5 or 10 minutes late, but it happens. I think it's a passive rebellion to being slave to train schedule for my nearly 50-year working career.

5) Gary Lewis had first-hand knowledge of clowns. His father was famous funny man Jerry Lewis. Who always makes you laugh? My late uncle always made me laugh. When I was a little girl, I thought he brought magic into every room he entered. I miss him. Today, my nephew reliably makes me laugh. 

6) In 2017, Gary was in the news when it became known that Jerry disinherited all six of his sons from his will. Have you ever attended the reading of a will? Until about 20 years ago, I didn't believe this was a real thing. I thought it only happened in Agatha Christie murder mysteries. But then in about 2005, my boss had to go to Nevada for the reading of his mother's will. He was gone for days ... delightful, productive, peaceful days. Then he came back. I hope he'd inherited enough to allow him to quit and get out of my way but alas, that wasn't the case.

7) This past summer found Gary Lewis on The My Generation Tour, performing with other acts from the mid-1960s, like The Lovin' Spoonful, The Hollies, and Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels. Do you enjoy listening to "the oldies?" Oh yes. Every morning I start my day with my shower radio, tuned to the oldies.

8) In 1965, when this song was popular, Muhammad Ali defeated Sonny Liston to become the heavyweight champion of the world. Have you ever attended a boxing match? Professional? No. But my longest-standing relationship was with a guy who was obsessed with the gym and kick boxing. It's hard to watch someone you care about be pummeled. (Just because he was committed doesn't mean he was good.)

9) Random question: What color is your toothbrush? White.

 

Thursday Thirteen #480

Next in line. Many Brits are up in arms because Harry and Meghan, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, have returned to the UK and may be trying to return to royal life. Much of the public unhappiness has to do with money. Mr. Henry Mountbatten-Windsor wishes to be a "non-working royal" – meaning a private citizen and not a representative of The Crown or kingdom – yet he seems to feel entitled to security at tax payer expense. Around-the-clock protection for the Sussex family could cost up to $4 million a year. More if the family also moves to a tax-payer funded royal home, which would be easier to secure.

Unpopular as Harry and Meghan are they are still likely to get all this, and here is why. The King is head of state in the UK constitutional republic. Until their constitution is changed – and no one sees that happening any time soon – the monarch is a legal requirement for the continuity of government. And Harry is still in the Top 10 in the line of succession.

In fact, so is his uncle, the highly discredited and even more unpopular Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (no longer Prince Andrew). It takes an act of Parliament to remove him, and that is not likely to happen until/unless he is convicted of a crime. The reasoning is that his expulsion would influence a jury if is he brought to trial. Anyway, it's super complicated and time-consuming because Andrew's removal would involve, at least peripherally, all 15 Commonwealth realms. But it has been discussed. Once the process begins, King Charles is not expected to intervene on his brother's behalf.

But Harry is higher up in line, and that makes him relevant. Constitutionalists argue that King Charles is not well. Were he to die soon, Prince William would become King, and next in line to the throne would be Prince George. Who is 13. If for some reason William became incapacitated, Prince George could not become King because he's too young, and Harry would be designated Regent. Harry would hold the throne until George comes of age.

An awful lot of bad things would have to happen in the next five years for Harry to assume the throne. It's highly unlikely, but it is possible. And a Parliament who has yet to expel Andrew for being an Epstein perv is not going to remove Harry for being snippy and having a wife no one likes. And if they tried, King Charles could and likely would throw roadblocks in their way. So in a weird way, Andrew is Harry's job security.

Confused? Maybe this list of 13 will help. 

The current line of success behind King Charles III.  

1. Prince William, Charles' son, born in 1981

2. Prince George, William's son, born in 2013

3. Princess Charlotte, William's daughter, born in 2015

4. Prince Louis, William's son, born in 2018

5. Prince Harry, William's brother, born in 1984

6. Prince Archie, Harry's son, born in 2019

7. Princess Lilibet, Harry's daughter, born in 2021

8. Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (yes, he's still here), Charles' brother, born in 1960

9. Princess Beatrice, Andrew's daughter, born in 1988

10. Sienna Mapelli Mozzi, Beatrice's daughter, born in 2021

11. Athena Mapelli Mozzi, Beatrice's daughter, born in 2025

12. Princess Eugenie, Andrew's daughter, born in 1990

13. August Brooksbank, Eugenie's daughter, born in 2021

If Andrew is kicked out, his daughters and their children would move up, and Ernest Brooksbank, Eugenie's younger son, would take the 13th slot. 

Princess Anne is currently #19 in succession. Charles' sister is kinda neat. Virtually scandal free, she's fusty in the way a Queen should be. 76 years old and reportedly in excellent health, she has lived a life of service and kept a busy schedule representing the Crown all over the world. She currently serves as patron for more than 300 charities, with a special emphasis on helping children and veterans. She would be the logical choice, if for any reason a Regent was required to guide future King George. But that can't happen because, at least to this Yank, logic doesn't have a shit-ton to do with any of this.

 

Please join us for THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

"... If that's what's bothering you"

Yesterday my shrink and I were discussing my recent, and increasingly more frequent, bouts of irritability. I have infinite patience with my cats. I never lose my temper with customers at the card shop. I can comfortably chat up a seatmate on public transportation. But Christine from movie group, my neighbor at the end of the hall, they exasperate me. Perhaps beyond proportion. 

I have not been having "bad days." I'm feeling well. There is nothing going on that I can attribute my snappishness to.

Christine is a kind, well-meaning woman who is trying to expand her social circle. There is no shortage of online articles that will reinforce how difficult this can be for women of our age. Yet planning and spending a movie day with her left me ill-tempered and worn out. No, I didn't say anything to her about it. I try not to be mean. But she was high-maintenance and intellectually incurious and I couldn't wait to get away from her. Even though she had a lovely time, brought me a book she found at a library sale, and followed up with texts the next day. She seemed to enjoy the same day that left me exhausted. What's wrong with me?

My neighbor at the end of the hall has disabilities. He has to wear a brace on one of his legs. He has some form of Tourette syndrome that causes him to yell loudly when he's alone. He is lonely and has trouble with boundaries. He is always asking me where I'm going, what's in that shopping bag I'm carrying, etc. I don't think he means to be creepy, but he is. Last week he banged and banged on my door, demanding I answer even though I was busy doing something more than a little private.* When I finally answered, what he wanted was not remotely urgent or even my issue. He asked what I thought we should do about the Amazon package that had been delivered here by mistake. I yelled at him, telling him I'm not on-call 24/7, not his employee. He looked as though I'd stricken him. Yes, I raised my voice and made a man with disabilities feel bad. What's wrong with me?

"There's nothing wrong with you, if that's what's bothering you." So said my shrink. OK, so let's work on what's wrong with these situations ...

Regarding Christine: Maybe I just don't vibe with her. If you can't talk politics, baseball, or pop culture, or if you don't make me laugh, we're not going to click. That's no one's fault, it's just chemistry. Also, compared with recent get togethers with friends that I have enjoyed, Christine and I were together for nine hours. That is too much for me. I'm not that social anymore and my introversive streak has gotten wider. Christine is a nice woman who is trying to make friends so I'm not going to snub her. That would be mean and I refuse to do it. But I can limit the length of time we're together when we see each other.

Regarding my neighbor: He suffers from neurodiversity. He does not respect boundaries and cannot pick up subtle cues. I wasn't being a reactive bully, I was doing what was necessary. If I hadn't yelled at him, he would continue becoming more intrusive. That is simply the way it is. His very real issues, which I see and have compassion for, do not give him the right to make me uncomfortable in my own home. 

I am an old dog but I am still learning. I guess at core, what I have been struggling with is how to live my Christian faith. I want to be a kind person. I want to treat everyone as I wish to be treated. I want to end each day knowing the way I behaved toward others is a way that would please Him.

But sometimes I lose myself in the equation. Christ's plan for me is not that I be inherently unhappy, is it? So I will develop a relationship with Christine that works for both of us. I will be nice and gracious to my neighbor but insist he respect my privacy.

Therapy is worth the time and worth the dime.

  

*I had just applied prescription cream to a rash that I'd rather not talk about, but let's just say I wasn't dressed to welcome visitors. So I had to smear the expensive cream to get dressed to answer the door and yes, this really pissed me off.