My life is so very
exciting…pause for a huge yawn…that I can barely stand it. You can probably
barely stand it either if you’re reading this. Anyway, I read all the
instructions and am now among the old, elderly, feeble, ancient and boring
humans. Yes, I activated the Medical Guardian and am now wearing a wrist unit.
Unfortunately, I also have to carry this thing that looks like small cell
flip-phones looked back in the day. I thought all I needed was the wristlet,
but apparently, I cannot go further than 300 feet from this other little
device. And, how the hell am I supposed to know how far 300 feet is when I have
difficulty figuring out how long six inches actually is???
I really hate that part of
this whole thing. Yes, they did provide me with a lanyard I can place about my
neck or I can remove the little part that fits into the bigger part and place
it on whatever kind of chain or lanyard I’d like to use. Well, that’s not going
to happen. I’ll carry the damn thing in a pocket or my purse, but I will not
hang such a thing around my neck…at least not until I hit 90 at the very least.
The paperwork has also
been filled out and Medical Guardian will soon have the names of my children
and a neighbor they can reach out to should I fall and break my leg or whatever.
At least the four people on my list will rest much easier when I don’t answer
my phone or call back or text right away. I don’t know who first
said it sucks getting old, but s/he was right on the money.
On a happier note, last
night I put my remaining five orchids in the kitchen sink with lots of water
for an overnight soak. I’d taken out the other plants last week because they
were infested with fungus gnats. To cure that, you’re supposed to top the dirt
with sand because they cannot get through and die.
Today (Wednesday), I
removed the other items in that window and decided which ones would go to the
garage sale. Then, I fixed myself a bucket of vinegar, ammonia and hot water
and climbed up on the counter to wash and squeegee the window. It’s not an
ordinary window, but a garden window, and if I could stand in the sink, there
wouldn’t be a problem. Unfortunately, I think my weight in the sink would lead
to a serious plumbing problem, so that’s out of the question.
I brought in one of my gardening knee-pads so I could put my bony knees on something that wouldn’t hurt like hell. Then, bending, leaning and putting my left hand on the side of the cupboard, I was able to clean the window. After that, I even went out to the deck and cleaned the outside…it sparkles now. And, not to waste all that good, but not filthy water, I carried the bucket, squeegee and towel to the front hall and washed the door window inside and the entire door outside.
That was enough for today,
so I emptied the pail, had some iced tea, finished my book and then replaced
the orchids, plants and stuff that is going to remain in the kitchen window
until I leave this house. It is my most sincere hope that I do not have to
clean that window ever ever ever again.
So, once again, a
productive day…more or less. True, I didn’t spend an entire eight hours doing
stuff in the house, but I did water the front and back gardens and my pots. Oh,
and spent some time reading those directions and becoming safe. Would have
served me right if I’d fallen off the counter and bashed my head. Wonder if the
kids would have gotten the money for the Guardian back if that had happened. In
any case, I was extremely careful climbing up and down.
So, another post about the exciting life and times of this writer. It’s actually rather repellant as far as I’m concerned because I had such plans before the pandemic. You were going to regaled about the life and times of a lonely, grieving widow as she ventured out into the big, wide world searching for excitement, new experiences, new friends and acquaintances, maybe even a new man or men about whom those posts would titillate (I do love that word.) you. Instead, you get a post about Medical Guardian and window washing…I actually don’t know who should be more disappointed, you the reader or me the writer.