ODDS AND ENDS...MAYBE MIDDLES

         I’m sitting here at the computer trying to think of something to write about that won’t sound whiny or negative or insane and not having a lot of luck. I really want to whine about simply EVERYTHING!!! Are you feeling that way too? Are you becoming concerned for your sanity yet?

          That’s not going to happen though. Who needs to read whiny or negative stuff when all you have to do is turn on the news, head to the internet, or open a newspaper. It’s all there, just waiting for you to dive in. So, I guess I’ll just write about stuff my fingers tap out on the keyboard.

          I did get up this morning and do my physical therapy. I also walked with my neighbor. We kept our distance, not exactly six feet, but no touching, no coughing, no spitting. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make the whole hour after having an entire week off, but I actually did. Good for me, good for us. We’re going to do it again tomorrow.

          Last week, I wrote about the rat(s) that have taken to coming and getting the chicken’s food. I have since found one dead one, but there’s another one that’s out there practically all day long. He even chases the squirrels away. I would have thought the squirrel would chase the rat. I’m putting out less food. Periodically, Mabel, the chicken will go over and sit by her food to keep the rat away, but as soon as she meanders off to do something else, the rat is right back. Now there’s a crow back there…why doesn’t he take after the rat.

          A friend called last week and talked to me about the rat problem. I had put some poison down the rat/mole holes, but after my friend explained just how the rats die from the poison, I don’t feel good about eliminating them that way. I also don’t want my resident owls to find a poisoned one and have it for dinner. So, I called AJ to see if he could remember what we did with all the rat traps John had gathered over time. He still has a couple of them, but he’s going to come over tomorrow morning and shoot that rat. I wonder if another one will take its place?

          The dogs were just released into the back yard with me saying, “Crow, crow.” They ran out there and chased away the crow. The vet calls them rat terriers, but they must have lost some of that DNA along the way. Rat terriers were used in the early 1900s to protect homes and farms from rodents. The White House was suffering from a rat infestation when President Theodore Roosevelt and his family moved in. The rats had learned to avoid traps and poison that had been set out to get rid of them. President Roosevelt brought in rat terriers and they solved the problem. If my doggies’ DNA held true, there wouldn’t be any moles or rats in the back yard…they’d get rid of them. Instead, they ignore everything but the squirrels and the crows. Those they bark at and chase.

          I’ve let the dogs back in and am waiting to see how long it takes before the rat returns. While the dogs don’t chase it, they do run right by the food, so the rat stays away. Right now there’s some small birds pecking away at the seed. It took a while for the rat to return, so a couple of squirrels, some little birds and Mabel all got a chance to eat. Mabel would have anyway because she won’t let the rat get close. I think I said I’m putting less food out, but maybe I need to restrict it further.

          I think we all love to see the sun shining. It would be good to go outside and work in the garden, but the wind is blowing very hard and it’s very very cold. Not only that, but the ground in my garden is sodden. It’s easy to weed when the ground is wet, but when it’s soaked as badly as mine is, I have to either put too much mud into the yard waste or shake the weed really hard to keep the mud in the garden. And, now, the sun has surrendered to the clouds and it’s raining. Bah!!!

          Supposedly, the remainder of this week is going to be wet and windy. I looked ahead through 4/13 just a couple of days ago and it showed temperatures in the 60s. Today, it shows rain, more rain and more rain with the best high at 54 degrees. Where or where is spring? The rodent indicated we’d have an early spring, but I’m beginning to think he was wrong.

          Choices, I have many choices as to what I can now do with my time. I can go clean the bathroom, vacuum, dust, watch television, read, sew or continue trying to catalog the remainder of the stuff in John’s room. None of these have any sort of appeal. I’ve been reading a lot on my new I-pad, as well as playing a game I used to play until my old I-pad wouldn’t sustain it any longer. What a time-waster that is.

          Well, I don’t think I’ve dwelled on anything that’s too horribly negative. I also think I haven’t exactly whined. I do have to admit, however, that being alone as we all mostly are even if we have spouses and/or kids, there’s not a lot to write about when you cannot get out and about. Obviously, I wrote this just so I’d have something to post for day 91. Hopefully, I’ve entertained you just a bit so you’ll keep coming back. I’m sure I’ll find my muse or something more interesting to write about…especially if I get up off my ass and do something…anything!!! Until tomorrow, stay safe, stay healthy and stay sane.

PHOTOS OF ME, THEN AND NOW

1960

        Going back through photos from 50 years ago or so as I’ve been doing, I find myself wondering why I thought I was so unattractive and/or fat way back then. Do you ever look at photos of yourself from long ago and think the same thing? What a lot of time and energy wasted on wishing and wanting to be more beautiful and weigh less. That doesn’t even take into account the money spent on having my hair cut, colored, permed, teased and twisted into whatever style was a hit at the moment. It also doesn’t account for the amount of money spent on skin and makeup products as well as clothes.

          I look at those old pictures and can’t believe I didn’t like how I looked at the time. Of course, back then my self-esteem wasn’t all that great or very large at all. For most of my life, no matter the façade I presented to the world, I believed most people/family didn’t like me or found me wanting in some way. I think it’s only been the last 25 years or less where I came to believe I was strong, smart, attractive and capable of doing just about anything I wanted to do.

          Actually, it may be only the last 20 years, after my bout with breast cancer. The diagnosis was terrifying, but I was reassured that removal of the diseased tissue and a bit of radiation would probably do the trick. The fact they did the biopsy on Tuesday, called me with the results on Wednesday and had surgery scheduled for the following Tuesday added to the terror. I thought it couldn’t get any worse until John and I met with the oncologist after the surgery.

1968

          At that meeting we were told the type of cancer I had was very aggressive, that more than one-third of the cancer cells were replicating at any one time. Even though the surgical edges were clean, if they missed one single cancer cell…well, it wouldn’t be good. Their suggested course of action was eight chemotherapy treatments, one every three weeks, followed by a month of radiation to that breast and five years of Tamoxifen. Easy-peasy, no problemo, I/we could do that.

          I don’t know just when or how it happened, but some where in there, I decided I was done worrying about my appearance or what people thought of me. I was 54 then, so don’t you think it was about damn time!!! At one time or another, people would remark on what a great attitude I had about my diagnosis and treatment. I always thought those remarks were ridiculous. What kind of an attitude did they think I was supposed to have? I know some people do, but I couldn’t imagine being horribly depressed or looking at my life as though it was going to come to a horrible end. I needed to keep on keeping on and it was best done in a positive manner, head held high and thoughts upbeat and futuristic.

          Now that’s not to say I didn’t have pity parties. Who wouldn’t and I definitely did, but I kept them private, small and short. Once the tears were dried, it was on to resuming a positive outlook. I also decided at that time to eliminate negative people from my life. True, there were some I couldn’t ignore, but I could choose to ignore as much of their negativity as possible.

          For those ten months John was my caregiver, comforter, uplifter, go to person when it came to the hard times. He went with me to every single doctor appointment, was there for the surgery, the chemo appointments and would have driven me every single day to radiation if I had allowed that. I didn’t allow it because I could go on my lunch hour, eat my lunch on the way there and back, park, go inside, remove my top, get zapped, get dressed and be back to work on time.

          John also did his best to make me feel good about how I looked. I gained 20 pounds during treatment, but he never alluded to the fact there was a lot more of me to love, especially around my middle.  John was also a breast man. I knew one woman who’d had to have a double mastectomy and her partner left her…what a horrible man. John took my changed breast in stride. The one reduced in size from tissue removal he began calling, “the cute one.” The one that remained the same was, “the big one.” I don’t think I ever thanked him for his understanding and support.

1982

          In any case, since then I haven’t spent a lot of time worrying about what people think about me or how I look. Sure, when I lost those 20 pounds I’d gained, it felt good, but I only lost the weight because my doctor told me I was a Type II diabetic and gave me time to change my already good eating and exercise habits to see if the numbers would change. They didn’t. I’m insulin resistant.

          I also decided to stop coloring my hair. Yes, I had high hopes it would turn the lovely silver/white that my mother’s did, that my brother and sister got, but it doesn’t matter that it hasn’t. I decided to stop wearing makeup or spending a small fortune on creams that were always supposed to reduce the wrinkles. I still use lotion since I have really dry skin; and it itches if I don’t, but it’s not because I think it will make me beautiful.

          When I retired, I gave away boxes and boxes of clothes I knew I would no longer wear; and okay, it was partially because they were too big as well. I gave up wearing a bra with underwire because it was uncomfortable. Now I wear tank tops with A shelf bra. I wear mostly sweat pants, sweatshirts and jeans. It’s what’s most comfy and I feel good dressed that way.

1994

          Today when I look at photographs of me, I look for the joy and happiness in my face and maybe that’s what I missed all those years in those old photos. Recent pictures with my grandchildren, children, the manta ray, and dolphin all reflect how I’m feeling. Today, when I look in the mirror, I see the wrinkles, gray hair and tummy pooch, but it’s just fine. I feel beautiful inside and outside in my very own special way. I'm just sorry I didn't know to look for the joy and happiness in those old photos all those years ago, but it's never too late as I'm learning every day. 

HAWAII, 1968

         In previous posts, I’ve indicated that John was an adventurous, let’s do it last minute kind of guy. This didn’t end with marriage and honeymoon, but continued. Just before Christmas 1968, he came home from work and told me we were going to Hawaii!!!

          Now, everyone knows that you can’t just book a December trip to Hawaii at the last minute…and John didn’t. Flying and changing reservations back then was very easy. Someone at Nordstrom had been promoted and had to cancel his vacation. He sold his tickets and arrangements to John. So, we were, indeed, going to Hawaii right after Christmas. 

           We also still “dressed” in 1968. John wore his white Nehru jacket and small checked black and white pants. I had a couple of dresses I wore when we weren’t going out and about. Then it was shorts and t-shirts.

John's Pineapple plantation

          What a wonderful experience to leave the gray of Seattle and step off the plane into sunshine and warmth. The hotel we stayed at was actually a little enclave of cottages between two high rise hotels. There was a pool and the ocean was just a little walk away. The gentleman who had arranged the trip for himself and his wife had made arrangements for a number of tours. We visited the Dole Plantation and I was astounded to see how pineapple actually grew. We also went to something like Sea World. It had a three-masted ship and a dolphin show. We could have also toured the Arizona, but for some reason John didn’t want to do that.

          John had an even better idea. He’d rent a little motor scooter and then we’d be free to go anyplace on the island instead of just staying in downtown Waikiki. The days we didn’t have a tour, we’d head out on that motor scooter and just go wherever the road took us. After all, it was an island, so we couldn’t get lost. We saw places and things that most people probably didn’t back then. I remember we went through this little town, camp, wide place in the road. It was like visiting Mexico again. The children were running around naked, the homes were literally shacks, and there didn’t appear to be any running water or electricity. I was appalled that such places could exist in the U. S. of A.

          One day we got up and went to Makaha Beach where they held the surfing championships back then and maybe still do today. At one end of the bay, the big waves came in. As they moved down the bay, they became smaller so people like me who didn’t swim well could body surf or just be in the water. John spent most of the time on the beach while I spent it in the water. I know he enjoyed sitting there, covered with sun block and towels so he wouldn’t be burned and watching all the young women in their bikinis. I enjoyed people watching and playing in the water.

          By the end of the day, we had exhausted our supply of sun block. When we left the beach on our motor scooter, the sun was behind us and low in the sky. I didn’t think about getting a sunburn, but by the time we got to the hotel, the backs of my arms and calves were bright red. Oh my, this trip it was me saying, “Don’t touch my sunburn.”

Inside Diamond Head

          We also attended our very first outdoor concert. It was held in the bowl of Diamond Head. I cannot remember who was playing, but we enjoyed hiking through the tunnel and into the volcano basin. It was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.

          You cannot go to Hawaii without going to a Luau. It was part of the tour package and we attended late one afternoon. The roasted pork was delicious although a trifle greasy. The poi was absolutely awful. We couldn’t imagine eating anything like that on a regular basis. John really enjoyed the young ladies dressed in Hawaiian attire. They danced the Hula and there was a group of young men who danced with fire sticks while music and drums were played by others. The young men were very handsome as well…I enjoyed watching.

          Of course, we were there for the new year. What an experience. Long before dark and midnight, people in the two adjacent hotels began throwing strings of fire crackers from their balconies. The space in between where we were acted like an echo chamber. This was in addition to all the other fireworks on the beach, in town, everywhere. Talk about noisy plus it went on almost the entire night. The following morning when we went out and about, there was red firecracker paper littering the sidewalks, streets and everything else. It looked as though it had snowed red during the night.

          We also experienced how it rains in the tropics.  One afternoon, we had to wait for a light to change so we could make a U-turn in order to reach the hotel. The sky opened up and it rained so hard you could barely see. We were drenched by the time the light changed, John turned the motor scooter and we went a quarter of a block to the hotel. There’s a photo of John pouring water out of his shoe although it might not be very clear. It rained like that most afternoons in Waikiki. It was great fun to be swimming in the pool or the ocean while being drenched by the rain. Then, the sun would come out and dry up everything.

John pouring water out of shoe

          Then, there’s the fruit. We discovered apple bananas. They tasted as though the banana had been soaked in apple juice…delicious. Haven’t seen them or had them since. The pineapple…oh yes, the fresh pineapple. My mother craved pineapple while she was pregnant with me, but you couldn’t get it. She said that’s why I liked it so much. I ate pineapple morning, noon and night, to the point the skin inside my mouth actually sloughed off.

          

          What a wonderful vacation that was. Family and friends picked us up at the airport and we enjoyed reiterating all out adventures to them. I wish I had been journaling back then because I know I’ve forgotten a lot of experiences and stories I could share now if I remembered them. While I may not have a journal, I do have some very bad photographs (wish I’d had a phone with a camera back then) and some wonderful memories of sharing Hawaii with John on our first trip there.

SHELTER IN PLACE PLUSES???

         The Coronavirus Shelter in Place order does have some definite pluses, at least as far as I’m concerned. No one can come visit, so there’s no need to tidy up, vacuum, dust, clean the bathroom or any of the other household chores I’d normally do rather than have family and friends find out just what a slob I really am.

          There’s also no need to get up and get myself together so I can walk first thing since we’re not walking. No need to shower and dress because I’m not going anywhere. Instead, I’m sitting here hours later still in my robe and nightie, my hair uncombed, my face unwashed and my teeth unbrushed. I have eaten a bowl of cereal and it’s about time for my second latte. I can actually stay this way for the entire day if I want to because no one is going to see me.

Couldn't find with dogs

          Just this morning, I got up a bit before 7:00 am, put the dogs out and made myself a latte. I watched Good Morning America for about 20 minutes to find out the latest on the pandemic. Then, the doggies and I had cuddle time on the couch for more than an hour…it was after 9:00 am when I finally stopped dozing and got up.

I took a break from email, Facebook and the keyboard a while ago and was looking through a magazine. I had to laugh. There was an article about little homes. One of the commandments went:

“You shall tidy and organize daily. A house does not keep itself: The secret to a happy home is for everything to have a place and to do the work to put those things back in their place.”

          Looking up from the magazine, I surveyed my room and everything that needed to be put to rights. It was obvious my house is not keeping itself. It was obvious I wasn’t keeping my house.

          So, I got busy, back here at the keyboard, still in my nightie and robe…I won’t tell you just what time it’s become, but my mom and grandma would be terribly ashamed of me if they only knew. Let’s just say I ate my leftover homemade pizza for lunch.

          Of course, there is a part of my that feels lazy and guilty, especially when I think of the women who trained and raised me. I’m not sure mom and grandma ever had a day like this where they accomplished nothing…zip, zero, zilch. Then, I thought that perhaps that wasn’t so, that once they became older, they had days where they didn’t have to do anything. You see when I think of them, I think of myself as young and them as old. The truth is I’m as old now as they were then, so maybe they wouldn’t be quite so disappointed in my inability to be more goal oriented.           

          It’s not like I’m not trying, however. Every Sunday morning, I begin a weekly list of things I either need to get done or want to get done. The list from 3/15 still had three items on it that I didn’t do and haven’t done. The one dated 3/22 has two items not checked off. I saved the list from the week before because I thought I’d get it completed, but we’re closer to a new Sunday than we are to the old one.

          There were things that happened the weeks of 3/15 and 3/22 that I didn’t put on the list, i.e., two afternoons working in my garden; sold El Burrito, straightened up more of the garage, made a trip to Costco with my granddaughter, made a second trip to Costco for an I-pad, did laundry and grocery shopped. All of those were huge and should have been on the lists. Maybe I should add them just so I can check them off and feel accomplished.

 Menu planning also isn’t a necessity beyond deciding what I’d really like to eat. I know in my younger days that would have meant lots of sugar, chips and way more prepared food that tasted wonderful but probably wasn’t all that good for me. Instead, I find myself in the freezer deciding what I should thaw or sorting through the containers of food prepared earlier this year to see what sounds good. I’ve also been making a huge salad one day, eating half then and the other half the next day. Truth be told, I’m probably eating better now than I was before I was told to stay home. At least I’m cooking for myself…maybe I should add that to my lists too.

          In any case, I tell myself every night when I’m getting ready for bed what I’m going to accomplish the next day.  Guess what, apparently, I’m not listening when I tell myself that because nothing is happening…nothing, nada.  I’ve even tried to tell the doggies, but they really don’t care. In fact, they hate the vacuum, love messing up the blankets I put on the couch to keep their fur off the cushions and would happily get into any of the trash bins and make a mess. Whenever I go to the kitchen, they think I’m there just to make sure they get something to eat. They aren’t the least bit supportive when it comes to reaching my goals.

          I also think I’m spending enough time at this computer to qualify for unemployment if someone were paying me. That’s something else that seems to have taken over my life. I read my emails, look at Facebook, post my blog and then write more blog posts. I believe I mentioned last week that I was going to use my writing as the carrot before the donkey. Guess what, that idea failed…apparently this donkey believes she doesn’t need any dang carrots.

          Tomorrow is a new day…another Friday. Another week is almost gone and there’s two incomplete lists on my desk. I sincerely hope I listen to myself tonight and get busy once I get my lazy ass out of bed tomorrow. Maybe what I need is for one of you to call and tell me you’re coming to visit. I bet my lists would be far beyond complete…I’ll bet if that happened, I’d get so much done I’d be able to take all next week off.

TREASURES ON THE OLD I-PAD

I  did make the trek to Costco to purchase a new I-pad on Wednesday. I wore gloves and had a bottle of sanitizer in my pocket which I used liberally before, during and after. And, wow, things had changed at Costco. Tape on the floor marking six-foot distances and huge clear plastic shields at the check-out stations to protect both me and the checker. I had to get close to the person who checked the I-pad out of the back, and I had to touch the computer screen to type in my email. I sincerely hope she wasn’t a carrier and vice-versa and that no one with the virus on their fingers used the screen before me. I hand-sanitized immediately after.

So, I have a new I-pad. I did try to rectify the problem with my 13-year old one, but what my friend Ernie suggested didn’t work at all. I was very concerned that I’d lose the information on my old I-pad, but my granddaughter assured me everything would be transferred to the new one. She was absolutely correct, with one exception…the library books I’d downloaded didn’t transfer. It took a frustrating couple of hours to figure out how to get that done. In the end, I deleted them from the old I-pad, then went to the library and requested them all again. Wouldn’t you know it, the one I had been reading was the only one I had to place a hold on. I wonder if I’ll remember what I’d read or have to begin again once it comes available.

This morning, I began going through all the apps on my new I-pad and it has considerably more than what was on the old one. I guess there have been some great advances in 13 years. I’m looking forward to learning how to do some of the new stuff as I experiment with things like Podcasts, Apple TV, I-tunes, I-movie, Clips, Pages, Keynote and several others. One new one is Stocks. Not knowing exactly what would appear, I opened it and was very satisfied to see the stock market was up today. There were also a few articles I scanned that seemed promising with regard to financials, but written in such a way, the author(s) wouldn’t have to eat crow if it doesn’t happen.

As I said, all the data on the old I-pad transferred, including photos I’d forgotten all about. Some were from the last trip John and I took to Oregon in 2012. Later that same year, we took a cruise to Alaska and Glacier Bay. The Alaska photos included ones of John. I guess I didn’t really see him for a much longer period of time than I thought or remember because he looks older and more frail than I remember him being in those photos. It’s hard for me to believe I didn’t actually look at and actually “see” him for almost seven years.

Those photos made me sad, not because of how John looked, but because of what a bitch I must have been for those seven years. Of course, I knew John wasn’t well or capable of doing a lot. I offered to get him a wheelchair to get him on board the cruise ship, but he refused. There was a lot of walking, first on the dock, then through the hallways of the ship to our room. He made it, but barely and then had to rest on the bed for pretty much the remainder of the day.

Once he got up, we took the elevator up to the top level for the leaving port party. At least we were able to share that. When it came to meals, John would take the elevator up one floor and I would take the stairs. Once there, he’d look at what was being offered for whatever meal and tell me what he wanted. He’d go sit at the table and I’d go back and fill his plate and bring it to him before getting what I wanted to eat. I was never mean or cruel about this process and did it happily, but I still don’t think I “saw” him as he was.

John left the ship only once. I can't remember for sure, but I think it was Sitka. He got off to go to a salmon BBQ and to ride the tram up the mountain. He did okay, but I wasn't sure he'd get back aboard without some kind of assistance. But make it he did, while I remained ashore and did some sightseeing around the little town. The other stops the ship made, John stayed on board while I went ashore. I took a hike in the woods at one stop and went sea kayaking at another. It would have been much more fun with John, but he didn't pout or resent my going...he encouraged it for which I'm thankful.

On that cruise, John took one tour of the ship. We walked the top deck from one end to the other very slowly. That’s when I took the pictures with my I-pad. When we got to the Crow’s Nest, we bought lattes and John had to sit for a while before being able to return to the other end of the ship where our room was located. Again, I was aware of his inability to move quickly, his need for a rest period; but again, I don’t remember actually “seeing” him. 

When it came to Glacier Bay and the glaciers, I was so happy we had a verandah stateroom. John was able to sit there or inside if it became too cold and see the glaciers just as well as I did from my spot outside. The ship even turned, so he was able to see both sides of everything. 

I know my ability to "see" was caused to some degree by the hypothetical glasses I wore. One lens was frustration and the other was anger. Both these feelings were because I believed John had the difficulties he did as a result of not taking care of himself and his addiction to Oxy. I believed he could get better, be better if only he would try. Looking at those photos now, perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps he really did the best he could. Perhaps I should have tried to be more understanding and more patient. 

Damn, just when I think I've moved another few steps forward, something like these photos return to haunt me, to make me feel sad and guilty and wishing I could go back and redo some of those seven years. But, I can't, that time is gone forever. I do urge those of you reading this though, to take off your hypothetical glasses and actually look at your spouse, partner, parent, child and really really see them. It's not too late when they're still right there, so don't wait. 

ONE CHICKEN, RATS, MICE & MOLES

        

When John was alive, he contracted with a pest control company that came once a quarter to spray around the house and eliminate spiders and bugs. They also did mole control (not very effective in my opinion) and rat/mouse control. I think one of John’s reasons for doing this beyond his inability to do it any longer with safe and sane traps, was getting to interact with the pest control guys. It had to get boring interacting with just me most of the time.

          In any case, I wasn’t terribly appreciative of the pest control company and after their fall visit where the operator indicated on his slip that he’d seen no mole activity…really, really??? he walked right by it, so how could he have not seen it…I called and cancelled their service. I figured the spiders weren’t too much of a big deal; and as for the rodents, I’d have to see.

          Mabel is the only chicken left. Her mates, Lucy and Ethel are long gone, but Mabel lives on. I lock her up every night and let her out every morning so she doesn't become a coyote snack or worse. In the process, I sprinkle food on the ground by the back gate. She and the squirrels love it, and I do laugh when I see her chase the squirrels away.

          Today, I was sitting here at my desk on the phone and looking out the window. The sun was shining and suddenly there were mice and rats dashing to the food, loading up and dashing away. They all looked very healthy, fat, their fur shiny and bright. If I knew for sure they’d stay away from the house and continue to live behind the fence, and not breed like rabbits, I probably wouldn’t do anything. And, why is it that rats give me the shivers. Snakes and almost any other animal are fine with me, but rats…don’t like em.

          As I’m typing this, there’s a big healthy one out there stuffing his face again. Hopefully, he won’t last long because I went to Ace Hardware and bought some rat eliminator. I put it down the holes into the tunnels made by the moles and then covered them up. I’m hoping they have a wonderful underground snack (moles and rats) and stay there, underground. This particular rat is coming under the gate from behind the fence. I don’t want to put any kind of poison on the surface where Mabel or any other non-rodent bird or animal could get to it. So, I don’t know what to do about the under the gate guy. Maybe some of his friends will turn him on to the tunnel tasties.

          I really don’t want to call the pest control folks and have them start coming again, but I don’t want this to turn into a major rodent problem. Do any of you have any ideas on how to control these that doesn’t involve poison? I like the idea we have foxes and coyotes and who knows what else living in my little neighborhood. I don’t like thinking they could be affected by my attempts to rid myself of what would probably be a great snack for them.

          In the time it took to type the last two paragraphs (and I type really fast), the big fat rat has made at least six trips to the chicken food. Back and forth under the garden gate. So, any ideas you may have and want to share with me about rodent control would be most appreciated. Apparently Mabel noticed what was going on. She’s now roosting in front of the gate where the rat comes and goes. Maybe she’ll take care of him???

          Another instance where John would have made the decision about what to do...well, he wouldn't have cancelled the service to begin with. Sometimes I actually envy the people I know who have moved into a facility where every single thing is taken care of for them. I know I'm not ready for that, but lately, having someone else make all the decisions would maybe be a blessing...for a while anyway.

TO I-PAD OR NOT I-PAD

         Feel like I’ve been a bit whiney the last couple of posts. So, I’m trying to think of some upbeat and positive information to share. First though, another big whine. I bought an I-pad in 2007. It’s served me well, but appears to be on its last leg. Mostly I use it for reading books from the library these days and had just downloaded about six. Last night I plugged it in at bedtime only to find this morning that it had not recharged. Tried a variety of things, and finally plugged it into this computer. It now appears to be sloooooooooowly charging. By slowly, I mean like 10% over the last hour. At that rate, I’ll be able to use it tomorrow.

          Since there’s no going to the library these days, I really want my I-pad to work so I can read some books. On the other hand, if I cannot read, then maybe I’ll spend more time writing these revealing and wonderful posts you’ve been reading. Of course, since none of us have much of anything to do, I’m not sure how much longer I can continue coming up with post material. Seriously, do you want me to go back to my childhood and dredge up some wonderful memories? Or, I could certainly continue to post about John and our marriage, travels, events, etc. I’m sure I’ve barely begun to tap that well of information.

          But I digress. I took a look at I-pads for sale now. It seems there are quite a few models, ranging from about $250 to over $1,000. I don’t need one of the expensive ones, but which one should I actually buy? If I had a new one, I’m sure I’d use it for more than just reading books. Originally, on my current one, I wrote stuff, checked email, sent email, etc. I do prefer my computer though because I can type so much faster with my keyboard. Amazon would send in two days, but if I went to Costco, I could walk out with it in my hand.

Anyway, my daughter-in-law, Angie, is very knowledgeable when it comes to electronics, so I sent her an email and asked for her opinion on purchasing a new one. Someone else I talked to suggested a Kindle, but that’s just for reading although it is a lot cheaper. And, apparently Samsung has some kind of tablet. I haven’t looked at that yet. Or, should I buy a laptop computer? I feel so far out of the loop when it comes to this kind of stuff.

Do any of you reading this have any suggestions as to what I should buy or where I should buy it? I’m definitely seeking input so don’t be shy about providing an opinion on the electronics or what you’d like to see me write about. Thank you so much in advance.

EL BURRITO HAS LEFT...THE DRIVEWAY!!!

        Well, what a long and very hard day this has been. On the happy/sad side, my driveway now contains only one car…mine. I realized last night that I needed some extra paperwork in order to sell El Burrito. So, I waited until AJ and Haley got here before leaving for the licensing place, just in case Bob (the purchaser) arrived before I got back.

          First off, I got in my car and the battery was dead. I shouldn’t have been surprised because Magic Toyota told me a year ago (or more) that I needed a new one. Amazingly, in the latest car review, Magic told me the battery was fine.  So, they were just a little off with regard to my need for a replacement a year ago.

AJ was a bit impatient and I ended up in tears. I didn’t sleep well last night and the tears were just begging to fill my eyes and roll down my cheeks. How could I possibly be so emotional about a POS that hasn’t run in decades? Anyway, Haley drove me in her dad’s truck (I sat in the back for Coronavirus safety purposes, plus we sanitized our hands every other minute.) to the license office. I got the necessary paperwork and then she took me to O’Reilly’s Auto Parts for a new battery. We returned home and Bob was here.

It took about five hours to get everything together and for El Burrito to be towed away. You see, it came with all the pieces and parts John had purchased over the years in order to restore it at some point. It wasn’t like the parts were stored in one place. There was a stack of boxes in one area, the 350 cubic inch motor and extra transmission were tucked under the work bench. They were, though, on wheeled beds, so not much in the way of lifting. Bob brought some kind of device which jacked up the engine so it could be placed in the back of his wife’s truck. She also ended up with a variety of car parts.

Bob happened to spy a shelf on the north side of the garage which appeared to have car parts. And, lo and behold, it did, so he pulled them out of there and they were added to either his wife’s truck or the El Burrito. Hopefully, he didn’t think I was trying to hide them from him. And, who knows, there may be other pieces that will surface as the clean up continues. I told Bob I’d call if I found anything else. 

Then, there were the extra doors, tailgate, another transmission, a variety of parts I couldn’t identify if you paid me, as well as pieces of glass for the canopy which was on the roof of the garage. By the time Bob got El Burrito on the tow bar, the truck bed was stuffed with parts.  It was also obvious at this point that El Burrito would need a different set of tires on the rear if it wasn’t going to drag as it was being towed.

Bob and his wife left in their respective vehicles and returned a while later, having unloaded the first cargo of stuff at their house. Bob also brought different tires which he put on the back of El Burrito. While they were gone, AJ and Haley figured out how to get the canopy off the garage roof. They had barely set it down on the driveway when Bob returned.

Between Bob, AJ and Haley, everything else that hadn’t been loaded, was loaded and Bob’s El Camino hooked up to the tow bar. AJ and Haley had their photo taken standing at the front of El Burrito and AJ took some photos of El Burrito as it left the neighborhood for the last time. Bob’s wife followed him as a safety precaution.

I have to admit that Bob was very excited to get El Burrito. His smile stretched ear to ear. He told me he had already planned his day for tomorrow. He’s going to get El Burrito running and then check out the brakes. I hope he achieves his goal. El Burrito was a great El Camino in her day. I hope she will be again one day soon.

Had to smile through the tears…El Camino towing El Burrito away…somehow most fitting.

WHY DOES ZERO MAKE ME SO SAD???

         As you are reading this, the gentleman who purchased the El Camino is getting ready to come haul it away. That means four minus four equals zero. He’s the only one of the four or five interested parties that made me an offer. It was less than I was asking, but the important thing here is that it’s gone.

          Besides, both AJ and I liked this man, or to quote AJ’s text, “I like Bob. He is an El Burrito guy. He’ll love & cherish that POS.” 

          Above I said the important thing is that it’s gone. If that’s really true, why do I feel so sad? Why do my eyes fill with tears at the idea my driveway will be empty, except for my Rav4, for the first time in almost 50 years? Why do I feel as though I’m in front of a huge blackboard and am slowly erasing John, his memories and all his belongings? 

          Is this what will happen when I’m gone? Will all the things I cherish and hold dear be erased and sent on to other people who will appreciate them? I don’t know. I just know that as I keep moving forward, I keep getting blindsided by feelings of loss, dismay, fear, and loneliness. Why does it keep hurting? Why can’t I reach the point where an accomplishment like selling El Burrito brings me more joy than pain? I don’t know. Does anyone?

FOUR DOWN, ONE TO GO

Today, I’d once again like the opportunity to yell at John and tell him just what kind of an idiot he was all those years he allowed his 1967 El Camino to sit and rust and basically just fall apart. I’d also like to tell him how stupid he was to continue to purchase stuff to use in the car’s restoration only to have it sit in the garage in the boxes in which it came.

I cannot remember if I mentioned at some point that when John died, he had four cars/trucks in the driveway. Only one of them did he drive, and he’d had to give up driving it almost a year before he died. Only one of the other three actually was drivable, although when the time came, it didn’t run well. That could have been because the gas in the tank was so old.

The first car to go was the Chevy Silverado which is the last one John drove. The woman around the corner gave me the name of the young man in the landscape business who does work for her. When he came to give me a bid, he remarked about all the cars in the driveway. I told him they were all going to go away at some point. He expressed a great interest in the Silverado.

Now, the Silverado had been lowered. It was black and very nice looking and the engine sounded very healthy. During a short period of time when I was without a car, having been rear-ended in my Rav4, I never had so many men approach and talk to me. The Silverado was the magnet, not me. Anyway, I worked out a deal with the young landscaper where he pruned every thing in my yard, removed a couple of trees, brought in this nice black bark stuff and spread it around. The day he finished the work to my satisfaction, I signed the title of the Silverado over to him. One vehicle gone…hallelujah.

The Jimmy (GMC) didn’t run at all and one of the sons had actually sold it twice for $500 each time, but John wasn’t willing to let it go. So, there it sat, getting more and more dilapidated with each passing year. It finally began to leak, so the floors in the front were growing algae. I went to Pick & Pull and they gave me a total of $55.00 for it, and they came and towed it away. A second vehicle gone…another hallelujah.

The third car was a 1989 Ford Mustang that John’s dad had purchased and gave to him when he had to stop driving. I drove the mustang for a number of years and always took good care of it. When I transitioned to my first Rav4, John took to driving it. He never washed it, cleaned the inside or anything like that. After he bought the Silverado, our youngest son cleaned the mustang up and drove it for a while before returning it to the driveway. Again, there it sat, slowly becoming one with its surroundings. I couldn’t believe when I looked at the north side of the mustang that the blue now appeared green…algae or moss and no sun. 

The mustang left home yesterday. Pick & Pull offered me $200 which is what the young man who trailered it away yesterday paid for the privilege. He drag races and will be using the mustang for that purpose. With a little care and attention, that car would have been worth a lot more money. In any case, the third car gone…another hallelujah.

In its prime

That brings us to today, Saturday. Last fall I put an ad for the El Camino on Autotrader Classic. In the space of between three and four months, I had a total of four people express an interest. Only one of those actually came to see El Burrito, as the sons have taken to calling it. Last Sunday, I put the same ad on Craig’s List and by Monday morning had received several emails of interest. So, today, I’ve had two men come to look at El Burrito. One definitely isn’t interested and the other made a lower offer than what I had listed. I’m now waiting for another man to come take a look and tell me what he thinks. And, I may have one more person come tomorrow afternoon.

Today, I realized just what bad shape El Burrito is in…BAD, BAD, BAD. I knew it was bad, but not just how bad. The man who made an offer spent a lot of time looking it over, raising the hood (barely and with heavy use of WD-40), looked at the boxes of stuff John had purchased, the canopy on the roof, etc. I actually feel as though I should take whatever is offered because it is in such bad shape.

Now, I know John had a rough childhood so maybe that’s why it was so important for him to acquire stuff. Maybe that’s also why he never made the effort to seriously take care of what he did acquire…he wasn’t taught to care, or his mother always got rid of it so why bother. I’ve made a joke for years as to why we remained married for so long…once the Karlberg name goes on something, John doesn’t let go.

I am going to have to find a new home for so many things that John acquired. Some of it is in fairly good shape and some of it not so good. It really makes me sad to look at all this stuff and realize how a bit of effort on John’s part would have made such a huge difference to the worth of an item or another person’s interest in having that item.

Hopefully, one of the two men scheduled to come look at El Burrito will find it very desirable. If not, I can call the gentleman who made a lower offer. Then, maybe I can say…last one gone, halleluiah!!!!!!

FANG THE WONDER DOG

We hadn’t been married for even eight months when decided to get ourselves a dog. We now lived in a little house with a yard and John had almost always had a dog. So, we answered an ad in the newspaper for a free dog…supposedly a cocker spaniel. Back in those days, you didn’t have to fill out any paperwork, or have your home inspected before you could bring your new puppy home. We brought him home the same day and he was so little he could sit in one of my hands, and my hands are not huge.

He was all black and we decided to call him Fang, Fang the Wonder Dog. He had a terrible first night away from his family, so I brought him into bed with us. Of course, he peed at some point and I had to change the entire bed. Bad dog!!!

Back then, you also weren’t asked how long your puppy would be home alone during the day, so when we returned to work after the weekend, Fang was left alone in the laundry room, the floor covered with papers. It was spring, so it wasn’t long before we allowed him to stay outside on a leash during the day. Two things I remember from this time in Fang’s life. First, I used to hang all my sheets out on the clothesline. Without measuring Fang’s leash, I hung them out and came home to find Fang had amused himself for the entire day by removing and dragging my clean sheets all over the yard. The second thing I remember was that the laundry room imprinted as his bathroom. If the door was open and Fang had to go, he would run back inside the laundry room to do his business.

Fang was our first child. He went everywhere with us. If we visited friends, went for a drive, camping, whatever the excursion, Fang rode along. He was welcomed in all our friend’s homes, even when the first time he saw a Christmas tree he walked over and lifted his leg. Fortunately, he’d just gone outside so there wasn’t much. He didn’t do that again.

When AJ was born and got big enough to go out into the neighborhood by himself, Fang appointed himself AJ’s keeper. Years later neighbors told me they always knew to slow way down because if they saw Fang that meant AJ wasn’t far away. Fang quit sleeping in our room and took up sleeping with AJ once he graduated from a crib to a real bed.

AJ, John & Fang

The vet told us at one point that only one of Fang’s testicles had descended, but that didn’t dampen his desire for a female in heat. His first conquest was an escaped purebred dog from up the street. When her owner came looking for her, John had to tell the owner he’d bring her home as soon as the dogs were finished. Apparently, Fang got stuck and couldn’t disengage. When returned, his first love was immediately taken to the vet and spade. Alas, no cute black and white puppies.

         Much later on, when Fang was really old enough to know better, the ugliest dog in the world went into heat. It was freezing cold and about 2:00 am and Fang hadn’t come back home after being let out. John was sure he was at the neighbors hoping to get lucky and refused to walk down the icy street to get him. So, I did and there was Fang, shivering like he’d never get warm, sitting on their back porch waiting and hoping that he’d get an opportunity. I had to pick him up and carry him home because he wasn’t leaving on his own…isn’t that a male for you!

Actually, Fang did get lucky at least once with this ugly female because the last puppy born to her was black. Immediately AJ and the owners began a campaign to get us to adopt Fang’s progeny, but that’s another story.

Like us all, Fang grew older and older. First he became deaf and then blind. On our last trip to our friend’s farm he went along as always. Fang was the only dog ever allowed in their house because the resident dogs were farm dogs. He took the privilege seriously and never had a single accident.

         Anyway, as always, there was a big get together of our friend’s huge family. At one point all the kids went down the road to the horse pasture. Later on, when it was time for us to leave, we couldn’t find Fang anywhere. You would have thought we had misplaced our two-year-old. Absolutely everyone turned out looking for Fang. He was eventually found down the road in the middle of the horse pasture having followed the kids when they went. He was just standing there waiting and knowing that someone would come and rescue him.

Fang lived with us for 17.5 years and in the end, he was blind, deaf and we had to pick him up and carry him outside so he could do his business. The day before the last trip to the vet John dug a hole under the apple tree. He went to work sad and depressed and AJ went to school sad and depressed.  It was up to me to take him to the vet…how hard could that be? I mean, really, Fang was just a dog. It was then I understood that pets really become one of the family.

I called my neighbor to ask if she’d watch Thor while I did this errand. As soon as she answered the phone and before I could even speak, I began to cry. I had to repeat myself because she couldn’t understand me. I cried all the way to the vet. When the vet came to get Fang, I wouldn’t let him go, but had to accompany him.  I watched while the vet shaved his paw and stuck the needle in, all the while rubbing, reassuring and talking to Fang even though I knew he couldn't hear me. I managed to ask how long after the needle came out and the vet told me it was done. I cried harder.

The vet helped me put Fang into a special bag John had readied and I took him back home, but I couldn’t stand the thought of him lying in the garage getting cold and stiff until everyone came back home again. Instead, and perhaps this was selfish of me, I put him in the hole with the Christmas stocking I’d made for him his first year with us wrapped around his head and covered him up.

We went out for pizza that night, and it was a pretty somber dinner except for Thor. Once he understood why we were all sad, he wanted to go home and dig Fang up. The following fall, we harvested Fang apples from our tree and remembered him fondly with stories like those above. Then, too, we had his daughter with us, so he continued to live on and not just in apple pies.