Carolyn Hax had a super thought-provoking piece of advice (it’s a gift link, so it shouldn’t count as one of your free WaPo views) this week that had me nodding until a twist in the final paragraph. And then, I guess, it had me thinking.

So the situation is that a person is complaining that their partner doesn’t take care of their health. They are okay not nagging in the short term, but they’re frustrated thinking about a future when they possibly can’t go off on adventures together because they are caring for their partner at home.

Carolyn tells them to go on the adventures, especially if they made that intention clear now, to give the person time to adjust. She points out:

The two individuals in a couple have a choice: to resist their stark differences day in, day out, suffering the attrition of baseless hope, or to accept them and factor them in. Embrace the individual you love as-is, even if it means your long-term goals and short-term plans sometimes send you in different directions.

But she finishes her advice with a twist: “If you, for example, intend to adventure solo in the event that his health grounds him, then say so — urging him to do the same if you’re the less mobile one. (Anything can happen.).”

I’ve thought about it a lot since I covered the rollout of the Affordable Care Act. The point of social programs is to cover people who are living the “otherwise” with the understanding that any of us could be living the otherwise at some point.

For example, we don’t need X now, though someone else does, and I sure would want it in place if I needed it. X can be any help we would want for ourselves if we were in a different situation. I look at paying taxes and paying for social programs in the same way as paying for insurance. I hope I don’t need to use it, but if I do, I will be happy that it’s in place. And I don’t mind paying now and helping someone else who does need this program at the moment because that’s how insurance works. I don’t pay for it with the hope that I have to use it. I pay for it with the hope that I never have to use it. And in the meantime, someone else does have to use it, and I’m not bitter about it because I wouldn’t want to be in that situation.

Makes sense?

So Carolyn’s advice was sound, but considering that last piece, I don’t think I would go adventuring on my own just because my partner made poor choices now. I wouldn’t want them to leave me on my own if I wasn’t able to travel because the same action moves from a consequence (you did X, so I do Y) to a punishment (x happened to you, so now I’m going to pile on the frustration and do Y).

What are your thoughts?

We have accounts with a few streaming services, but I think we’ll give up a bunch of them when the kids leave for college. The conversation about Netflix morphed into a discussion about streaming services in general in one of my Facebook groups, and I learned that the kids would only be able to access one of our services (where I purchased five user slots) once they leave home.

So they can use Hulu while in the house, but once they move out to a dorm, we need to get them their own account for the months they’re away.

On the one hand, I get it. They’re not technically at home. But on the other hand, college is not living independently. They’re still coming home for breaks and the summer — a temporary situation with more in common with long-term travel than an established separate life. I doubt they’ll have much time to use the services while away, so better to cancel them and bring them back for a few months over winter break or summer.

I wish more services would shift to selling slots, and then I’d leave them running all year. Or make shows available for sale on another platform after some time. We used to buy shows we wanted to see a year or so after release. Now most shows never go on sale to own, so you need to keep up the streaming service to watch them again.

This system doesn’t really work for us anymore.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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I recently learned about a fantastic group that shields kids entering LGBTQIA+ events called Parasol Patrol. You can volunteer in your area and show up with a rainbow umbrella to create a safe walkway for kids entering a building so they don’t see protesters outside. I started crying looking through the site because it’s unbelievable that we need something like this — that adults would scream things at kids. But then my feelings shifted to enormous gratitude that this exists.

You can volunteer or donate on the site or read more about the group via numerous news articles.

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Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts connected to businesses or sponsored posts.

Oliver Burkeman mentioned a book and idea in a recent post about intrusive thoughts that resonated with me. The book is The Path to Aliveness by Christian Dillo, and the idea is not to try to bar these thoughts from entering your mind but to adjust your level of hospitality when they get there.

He writes,

“The host’s job is not to barricade the door but instead just not serve any tea.” Maybe I can’t exactly let go of my counterproductive thoughts – but I can resist the temptation to indulge them, metaphorically inviting them to sprawl on the sofa for hours at a time, with a nice hot drink and a generous slice of cake.

I loop through the same anxious what-ifs at 1 am, essentially serving those thoughts tea, cake, and asking if they’d like to take my kitchen table while they’re at it. I’ve been trying to set down the teapot and instead literally think about myself taking back a cup of tea and holding it for myself instead of letting those negative thoughts get comfortable. Does it always work? No. But having a visual when I realize I’m doing it has been helpful.

The Substack (Loribeth is so right! Substacks are blogs in disguise.) Notes from Three Pines is hosting an ongoing Inspector Gamache read-along. It kicks off on February 22, so you have time to read the first book (Still Life). I will jump in because my old book club closed down, and I’m looking for a more structured community beyond Goodreads. But not too structured because I don’t want to leave my house.

Does anyone else want to join along? And then go on a road trip to the greater Montreal area?

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Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

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And now the blogs…

But first, second, helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. To read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Who Gets To Grieve?” (Stirrup Queens) – thanks, Jess!

Okay, now my choices this week.

The Road Less Travelled has a really sweet blog post complete with drawn portrait. The artist is her great-nephew. She writes: “I asked him if the two lines coming out of the bottom of my head were legs and/or feet. ‘Socks!’ he corrected me.” Go over and see the proud auntie’s new portrait.

Lastly, Infertile Phoenix finally has an answer to a friendship that went on hold and is now back. It’s a story of two paths to living without children that diverged and came back together. I appreciated the nuance she brought to understanding both sides — the decision not to pursue parenthood and the grief over not having children. She writes about the woman’s mother: “I understand my friend’s complete annoyance and even anger, but I also completely empathize with her mom. Her mom is feeling a deep, deep pain that nobody can help her with. It got me thinking about the disenfranchised grief and the ambiguous loss involved with grandchildlessness.” It’s a profound post.

The roundup to the Roundup: Come read Louise Penny books with me. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between January 27 – February 3) and not the blog’s main URL. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week? Read the original open thread post here.