DARK DAYS AND HOLIDAYS

 

Well, here I am at the beginning of my least favorite times of the year. I seriously believe I was meant to live some place where the sun shines most of the time and the temperatures are temperate. I absolutely love sun and warmth and the northwest isn’t famous for lot of that, plus I haven’t addressed the fact the days are going to become short, with the sun disappearing by 4:00 pm for days or months on end.

          Then, there’s the fact it’s also the beginning of the “holiday” season. I’ve thought for some time now that it would be wonderful to leave here on November 1^st and not return until March 1^st. I have no idea where I would go or what I would do even if I could afford to absent myself. I know there were years, maybe decades, when the holiday season was something to which I looked forward. Of course, I was ever so much younger then, my husband, parents and grandmother were all alive and my kids were small. Somehow, having become the elder has removed most of the fun from the holiday season.

          So, okay, the next six months won’t be my favorite time of year, but what can I do that will help me get through the short gray days and the demands thereof. I need to think about that and concentrate on the positives this time could and, hopefully, will bring…there have to some, don’t you think?

          I’ve changed my bed over to the down comforter. I love the weight of the comforter and how it seems to hug and warm me. Even though I would have been way too hot during the best days, and enjoyed the lightweight comforter, I did miss my downy. I love snuggling into my bed on these cooler nights and I’m sure it will be absolutely delightful when Jack Frost and Mr. Winter arrive.

          Halloween is just down the road and I do have decorations. There are four witches in front, three stuck into my big flowerpots and one swinging from a hook. There’s a ghost I made from an old white sheet…spray painted big black eyes on it. I put an empty hanging basket through the top and s/he sways in the wind. Kuma didn’t like the small figure I put on the front porch. It moves and says various things like, “Happy Halloween.” Kuma found it scary initially and still has to stop and sniff each time he goes by.

When I went through the Halloween box brought down from the attic, I also found all the cardboard signs and skeleton I bought fifty-plus years ago. Only the skeleton is being utilized and he hangs on the front door. I left the other stuff in the box, but among what was/is in there, I found the two witches AJ made in grade school, as well as a number of decorations made by Thor. Since I’m not using them, I ought to return them to the now grown artists.

So, I guess you could say I’m ready for that first holiday; or will be once I buy a bag of candy. With less than fifteen trick-or-treaters, that’s about all I need which also means I won’t be tempted to eat a lot of candy. Somehow, I just cannot buy the candy I don’t like…wonder why that is???

After Halloween, is my birthday. I’ll be eighty this year and don’t yet know if the kids are planning an event to celebrate. Maybe I should plan my own event??? Several friends have asked about my plans and want to take me to lunch or dinner. If there’s one event with a cake, that would suffice. I told the kids last year that I didn’t need anything for my birthday then, that they could save up for a big bash this year. Guess time will tell if they listened.

Next is Thanksgiving. I haven’t yet talked to anyone about this, but I did make the dinner last year and had my eldest son and his family here. My youngest son’s wife prefers to cook their turkey, although I seem to remember it was actually my son that cooked last year…how nice to know he can do that. And, of course, the kids always come back the following day for leftovers, so that’s fun too. Plus, there’s nothing like a turkey sandwich or leftover dressing with gravy. I think I’m making myself hungry.

All too soon, it’s Christmas, although I’ll probably decorate right after Thanksgiving. I have a small fake tree that l can put together myself. Out of all the boxes of Christmas stuff in the attic, I only need one or two. Those hold the tree decorations and wrapping materials. The rest of the boxes with all the other decorations can remain in the attic as they’ve done the past few years. Even all the snow globes that live in the hall closet will remain there. It’s simply too much to utilize every single thing I’ve acquired in the last fifty-nine years. Maybe at some point, the stuff in these boxes will be prized by my grandkids.

Christmas Eve will be spent alone with just Kuma. Christmas day will find me cooking up four pounds of bacon to take to AJ’s and Angie’s for the annual brunch, provided the ritual continues. Once again, Thor and his family will remain in their home for their own holiday celebration.

When I think back to holiday celebrations of the past, I remember so many Thanksgivings and Christmases where my house was filled with people, love, laughter and happy voices. I miss those holidays, love all the memories, but the changes are understandable; and I now know how my mother felt when I usurped her position as the family hostess. What goes around comes around so they say and unfortunately “they” are right.

          Following Christmas is New Years. Once again, I’ll most likely be in bed by the time the new year rolls in…I may even be awake. It’s been decades since I attended any parties where there was a lot to drink, comradery and kisses at midnight that didn’t all originate with my husband. Those were always so fun…the parties and, okay, the kisses too. But it’s just fine to be home alone in my own bed with my dog. I can’t imagine any wild parties at my age, and the idea of kissing some old guy leaves me absolutely cold.

          The next and final holiday which isn’t actually isn’t a holiday is Valentine’s Day. John and I met the day before Valentine’s Day, so we always celebrated the thirteenth rather than the actual day. Since John’s been gone, I’ve made my way to See’s and bought myself the box of chocolates he always gave me. They still taste just as good. I do miss trolling through the cards and choosing a special one for John. I used to buy and send cards for all the kids and grandkids, but I gave that up some time ago. So, I may have chocolates, but no cards and that’s just fine.

          The above gets me through the holiday season and most of winter. Were I to be off somewhere in the sun during these various days, each one would be just another day at the beach. No cooking, shopping, wrapping, or participating in any of the annual rituals. Instead, there would be long, lazy days in the sunshine with some really good books.

          Why don’t I do this you ask? Well, there are multiple reasons, i.e., I would miss my family and think maybe I’d miss the holidays too. Then, there’s the expense. Sure, I could afford it, but I have no idea how many more years I’ll live, so I feel like I need to be cautious with my spending. Most of all, however, is the guilt I think I’d feel at leaving everyone behind. Or course, I’m automatically assuming they’d miss me and potentially be annoyed by my absence. Still, just imagine…I’d have all that time alone in that luscious warm weather, just me, myself, and I. Guess that would be kinda selfish and not at all in the holiday spirit.

LIFE IS SO MUCH BETTER...NOT!!!

          

 Honestly, wasn’t life a lot simpler when there were fewer devices for us to use in our daily lives. I’m sure some might disagree with me, but after the last couple of weeks, I’d be happy to return to bank accounts that use only paper, mail you a statement each month and have several simple credit cards for a variety of usages. This is due, of course, to my having fraud perpetrated on not one, but two of my credit cards…the ones I use most often of course.

          I know my eyesight is getting bad compared to where it was a year or so ago. I also know that it will be better next year once they “harvest” the cataracts on my eyes. Meanwhile, why does every single company with whom I interact in some fashion have to provide me with statements in teeny-tiny print. And, okay, I’m the one printing them out and there’s probably a way to change the font, but why should I have to do that.

          All this complaining is to confess that I looked at my last statements from the credit cards that were cancelled and reissued to make sure I went online and updated all the automatic payments so the charges would go to one of the new credit cards. Well, my eyesight failed me.

          First, I received an email from my health provider that the charge for October hadn’t gone through. I tried to rectify that by using the link that email provided. It was a site I didn’t believe I’d ever been to before. There were login boxes, but nothing I put in those boxes worked. There was also an area where I could register for a new account, but none of the information I provided there worked either.

          So, I just finished talking to my health provider’s office. Once the person there understood what I was talking about, she in turn passed me on to the company that does the charging for the coverage. This was another ten minutes (or more) spent waiting for the person there to check on whether or not I did have an account. Well, damn me, if I didn’t, but I certainly didn’t have any login information or even a memory of signing up for the account. All this time, I thought my health provider made those arrangements.

          So, back online with the correct sign-in information and “temporary” pass word, I was able to get into the account create a new password and provide the new credit card information. I think back to those dark ages when I’d simply go to the bank and have someone help me with a minimum dispensation of my time.

          But I wasn’t quite done. Netflix was also on that cancelled credit card. This change was quite easy, however. I just signed in, was greeted with a choice of retry the current card or provide a new card. This took me maybe two minutes.

          And, yes, I know, this was all my own fault because I didn’t check out the companies who actually perpetrated the frauds. But again, back in the dark ages, it wouldn’t have been possible for those companies to commit the fraud because by the time I looked at all the “paper” provided, I would have known to put it in the shredder…oh wait, we didn’t have shredders then because we simply threw all that stuff into the garbage.

          So, yes, life is so much simpler and better now…don’t you agree???

FIRST ANNOYANCE OF THE DAY

          

 To say I’m just a bit annoyed would be like saying the ocean is wet. My doctor put me on Jardiance because I have diabetes and take no other medication for this malady. Since this is a “new” medicine, I have to pay out of pocket and it’s a little over $100 for a three-month supply. That’s okay and I can afford it although I’m not yet sure this medication is doing much of anything about my A1C levels, but I’ll be having a blood test this week and find out.

          What I find most annoying is the fact that the prescription doesn’t call for me to take a 25 milligram table. No, the prescription says I should take only 12.5 milligrams per day. What does that mean?  It means that I have to CUT each and every one of those tablets in half. Why the company cannot produce 12.5 milligram tablets is beyond me…probably too expensive and the pharmaceutical company is far too POOR to allow for this production.

          The tablet cutter is designed to cut anything from a small to a large pill. This means I have to line up the pill so there is a fair chance it is cut in half evenly. FAT CHANCE!!! No matter how hard I try to position that fucking pill, it rarely is cut evenly. And, do you have any idea how long it takes to halve ninety pills…way too long.

          But, now that I’ve expressed my huge annoyance through my fingers, it’s time to get up out of this chair and attempt to get on with my day. And, at least it will be another 180 days before I have to be annoyed by this process once again. Hmmm, wonder if this annoyance raises my blood pressure? I’m sure there’s a pill for that too. Would it need to be halved as well?

          Time to take several DEEP BREATHS and get on with the day.

LOOKING BACK

           

Perhaps because of the most recent blog post, I’ve been looking back over my life. I remember how my grandma would tell me the same tales over and over when she became older. It wasn’t as if she remembered she’d already told me that story numerous times, but with each telling, it seemed to me that she believed she was telling it for the first time. I wonder if that will happen to me?

          I think maybe one of the reasons Grandma repeated herself was because she was lonely. I don’t remember what her life was like in California or if I even knew. I do know that when she had to move back to Seattle, my parents found her an apartment in low-income elderly housing. It was just across the valley from my house, but about five or more miles to where my parents lived.

          My mom didn’t drive, so it wasn’t like she could visit often. She and daddy did go once a week and take Grandma grocery shopping. Sometimes that trip was combined with a doctor’s appointment, and maybe even lunch out. I was busy being a mother, wife and working outside the home most of the time. Still, looking back now that I’m the age Grandma was when she died, I could have certainly made more of an effort to make her a larger part of my life. True, I always subbed for my parents and always included Grandma when we held family events. Still, Grandma must have been fairly lonely.

    Grandma did make friends with some of the folks in her building. I also believe she participated in some of the various activities that were available. Unlike Grandma, I’m mobile and don’t need to depend on anyone to take me places. I’m still driving and can get there on my own. I also have a fair number of friends with whom I can do things and go places. Many times, these events result in a new experience which I can discuss when talking to my own kids and grandkids.

          So far I don’t think I’m repeating myself too often. If I am, I certainly hope my friends, kids and grandkids would be kind (or would that be mean) enough to tell me they’ve heard that story before. And, when I reference mean, I always felt if I told Grandma she’d already told me that story, I’d be rude and mean.

Of course, now, forty-five years later, I’d love to hear her voice on the other end of the phone. It would be such a genuine pleasure to sit back and listen to Grandma share her memories with me…wonder if at some point in time, my own grandkids will wish they could hear my voice telling stories once again?

FOURTEEN YEARS

         

Toward the end of last week, I had my annual review with my investment counselor. I’m pleased to say that judging by the plan and expectations of same, I should die with money left in my account. That made me feel happy and secure; however, there was another realization that accompanied the review and which I hadn’t realized (or had chosen to ignore) prior to this. It’s left me feeling…well, I’m not sure how I feel.

          You see, I’ll be eighty this coming November and my investment plan is projected for me to live to the age of ninety-four. It’s always been projected to that age and I’ve never really given it much thought. Unfortunately, I somehow noticed this time, the age of ninety-four will arrive in ONLY fourteen years…yes, fourteen (14) years. It’s simply amazing to think that there is so little time left.

Of course, it doesn’t mean that I’ll automatically die at the age of ninety-four or that I’ll run out of money. There’s the chance I could live well beyond ninety-four. There’s also the chance something disastrous could happen prior to ninety-four that would end my life earlier. Even worse to consider is that something even more disastrous could happen, i.e., a significant change in my health that would require being institutionalized and which would suck up all the money I now or will ever have. Neither of these options (as if I get to choose) reassure me; if anything, both ideas leave me feeling a bit scared and forlorn.

I spent yesterday with my best friend and talked about how I ONLY have fourteen years left. Fortunately for me she is an extremely positive person and said all the right things to assure me that I didn’t need to worry about only having fourteen years. Eventually, our discussion led to lots of laughter and silly talk. It was sort of like that old game we used to play where we would say something which had to be followed by a set phrase, i.e., “I need to take a trip to the moon because ‘I only have fourteen years left’.” I needed that and will continue to need it for the next fourteen years…and hopefully, far beyond. I mean, really, I only have fourteen years left.

WOE IS ME

 

          Boy, sometimes it seems as though life just has to take a whole bunch of swings atcha. It’s been that way for the past month, more or less. In total, there have been five human deaths, and one dog death with another dog on the Grim Reaper’s lap. Then, in twelve more days, it will be six years since John passed away. Daily, I feel depression calling my name, and daily, I fight it back…but it isn’t easy.

          The first death was that of a man who was maybe fourteen or fifteen when we moved into this house. He lived next door, the middle child with an older brother (who was hit by a car and killed ten years ago), and a younger sister. We watched those kids grow up and maintained contact through their parents for quite a long time. Since hearing of his death, I’ve revisited some of the happenings and tales from way back then. It’s also hard to wrap my head around the fact he was pushing seventy and his little sister is sixty-six.

          This was followed by the passing of my zoo boss’ wife from lung cancer. We’d known since late last year that, foregoing any kind of treatment (her choice), it would be six months or so before she would die.

          The third (and I thought) final death was a huge shock. It was my first zoo boss who had appeared to be in very good health. True, he had some health issues, but none that were immediately life threatening. I don’t yet know what sent him to the emergency room, only that he didn’t return. This was hard because over the years he went from boss to good friend.

          Through the various emails that were generated by the second and third deaths, the knowledge of the death of the zoo’s veterinarian who served for some of the years I was at the zoo was shared. She passed in June and there was little information as to why, but I really liked that woman and had often wondered where she’d gone after my zoo. She made four.

          The fifth death was the husband of a woman with whom I worked at the zoo. Apparently, he had broken a hip and during recovery must have suffered some kind of set-back.

          That’s it for humans. My neighbor’s dog which they’ve had for seven months, developed pneumonia and passed the beginning of last week. My son’s dog is, as stated earlier, sitting in the lap of the grim reaper waiting for her owner to find a vet willing to come to the house and administer last rights.

          As I said in the beginning paragraph, I’m battling depression as a result, but what really brought it all home was a little sojourn to University Village yesterday. One of the stores visited was the Crate and Barrel. Many of you are probably familiar with this store. I wandered around both the bottom and top floors and admired all the wondrous items on hand for sale.

          As much as I appreciated the dishes, silverware, appliances, linens, lamps and furniture, it made me sad because I will never have need of any of the stuff contained in that store. I live in my own house with furniture I’ve had for decades (except for the bedroom furniture I bought four years ago). I also have every other thing I could acquire at the Crate and Barrel. Mine is all in good condition, isn’t close to being worn out and there’s absolutely no need to look for replacements.

          I guess I saw it as another way to look at how close to the end of my life I’m coming. Supposedly, I’m at the point where I’m expected to be “downsizing” and eliminating “stuff” from my life. Well, I’m not ready to do that either. I still like all my stuff and while I don’t need to add much of anything new, I’m not ready to eliminate it either.

          It’s also probably not the way to look at the next ten or twenty years I’ve left on this earth. I “should” be thankful for each and every day and search out new experiences and revel in the ordinary. Still, I’m finding it a bit hard at the moment. I also know these thoughts and feelings won’t last unless allowed.

          So, it’s past time to put away the “woe is me” thoughts and get busy with something that will put a smile on my face and a bounce in my step…don’t quite know what that will be yet, but I’m on the lookout.

KUMA, MY WONDER DOG, IS THREE TODAY!!!

 

          

Today is Kuma’s third birthday. I can’t believe he’s been my most treasured companion for three whole years…excepting the first three months when he was with his mom. I still cannot fathom how lucky I was to spot his precious face on Facebook at a time when I was feeling so lonely and depressed. Kuma changed my life in so many ways and has brought me so much joy.

          I love how he is so enthusiastic about coming with me in the car. Every morning when I’m getting ready, he shows up in the bathroom just at the moment I’m donning my pants (how does he know???). He looks at me as though he’s trying desperately to hypnotize me into allowing him to go with me wherever I’m going. Unfortunately, when it’s sunny, he has to stay home because the car gets too hot if I cannot find shade in which to park.

When Kuma does get to go, he loves sticking his head out the window. I’m fine with that except when he puts his paws on the door in order to stick his head out even further. Even though I don’t roll the window down far enough for him to actually fall out, it still gives me pause…kind of like when the kids did stuff that was safe but with the potential for injury.

         Kuma follows me from room to room, often stepping on the back of my flip-flop. He wants to be exactly wherever I am, and I don’t mind one little bit. If I’m on the couch reading or watching television, he’s right there beside me. My favorite thing though is how he manages to lay right up against me in bed. He may not be there when I fall asleep, but as I begin to drift up from the depths, my first thought is that it is John cuddling me. I love that, even though there’s just a teensy bit of sorrow in my heart when I wake enough to realize it’s my puppy Kuma.

          Today, I prepared his lunch and allowed him to sit at the table. It didn’t take long for that soft dogfood (filet mignon flavor) to disappear into his tummy. Then, I gave Kuma his gift. I’d wrapped up a rather large stuffy with two rubber squeaky toys. It didn’t take long for him to get inside the wrapper (I videoed and posted the videos and photos to Facebook.) and pull out the plush. That largish toy stayed together for only three (3) minutes and was totally disemboweled in six (6).

I just now took his “Pawp Corn” squeaky toy away because he'd chewed off a corner to get the squeaker. He‘s moved on to the “I’m just here for the fries.” squeaky toy and I assume I’ll be tossing that one in the very near future. I’m seriously hoping he doesn’t ingest enough of his presents to require a trip to the vet.

          Yep, in less than the time it took me to type the paragraph above, the fries toy had to be sent to the garbage. But, since it’s Kuma’s birthday, I gave him a “Pork Earz” because he can chew that up and swallow without it doing him any harm. Kuma also usually gets a frozen bone when I have my tot of gin in the late afternoon and I’m wondering if I should do that today or not.

          Never in my entire life, at least until three years ago, did I ever think I could love an animal as much as I love Kuma. True, we always had dogs, but they were more John’s dogs than mine, so I never felt totally invested. With Kuma, I’m his ONLY person and he’s my ONLY doggie, so I cannot express exactly just how much joy and love he provides.

          There are only a couple of things I’d like to change or improve. I keep working to get Kuma to not jump up on people when they come to visit. He gets so excited, makes love barks and growls and just has to jump up. I’d also like to be able to take him for a walk on a leash and not have him lose his shit when he sees another dog. I simply cannot control him when he gets like that, so we don’t walk. As for having him bark at other dogs when in the car or in the front window, I think (hope) we almost have that under control. Kuma still makes noise, but it’s not the, “I’m going to rip out your throat.” barking he was doing. Time and patience…that’s all it takes, right?

          I’ve been told that once this dog breed reaches the age of three, they tend to mellow out and be less jumpy and barky. Touch back in a year when Kuma turns four and I’ll let you know.

          Anyway, this is Kuma’s day, so I need to go throw the ball, give him pets, sing the birthday song a few more times, and do my best to let him know that while I’m his person, he’s my most favorite doggie…ever!!!!