DOWN MEMORY LANE

 

          Today, Sunday, was a very good day even though I didn’t get in line and get a Northlake Pizza. When I got there about 11:15, there were already more than fifty people waiting. So, memories will have to suffice.

          Kuma and I left there and drove around Lake Union to Stoneway. I couldn’t believe the traffic or the number of apartment/condo buildings. I thought about stopping at Ivar’s Salmon House and getting fish and chips at the outdoor fish bar, but decided I wasn’t that hungry.

          I went to Lincoln High School and nothing on Stoneway looked anything like it did back when I walked to school…yes, uphill both ways in pouring down rain. Now there are so many new apartment/condo buildings that hardly a single family home remains. We turned left on 45^th and headed east, stopping at Dick’s Drive-In.

          Back when I was in school, the cool kids parked their cars on the rise to the west…you can look down on all the activity below. Today, I was a cool kid because I pulled in and backed myself into the only space available. I didn’t even have to try or correct myself or anything. Nailed it on the first try. Whoa, was that a proud moment. Too bad some of those folks from sixty years ago weren’t on hand to applaud.

          Kuma and I shared two cheeseburgers and fries and when I slurped the last of my diet coke, Kuma knew what was coming and we’d only done it once before. He could hardly wait for me to take off the lid and offer up the ice. Once he’d gotten most of the ice, I added water from my water bottle and had to fill it up a second time.

          I thought it might be difficult to turn left out of Dick’s, but both directions were clear. I followed 45^th all the way through Wallingford and up under Highway 99 and then down the hill into Ballard. Again, nothing looked as it had when I was a kid or even a bit over a decade when I worked at the zoo. So many single family homes replaced by huge apartment/condo buildings with businesses on the bottom level. Where are all these people coming from?

          Kuma and I ended up at Golden Gardens, and again, I hadn’t been there in forever. It’s become this huge park with enough parking for I don’t know how many cars. As a kid, me and the boy next door would ride our bikes to Golden Gardens which wasn't the least bit developed. Yes, the breakwater was there for the marina, but really not much else. I almost always brought home a little crab I found in the sand. Of course, they always died and I'm very sorry now that I know just how good crab tastes. These days, you can access the sandy beach or park in an area that has a walkway on top of the breakwater. I drove through the whole thing and decided Kuma and I would practice his walking on a leash on the pathway…WRONG!!!

          We no more than got out of the car than Kuma began to bark and not in a nice way. He lunged on the leash while barking at the crows, other dogs and people as if he’d give them a new asshole if only I’d let go. I was embarrassed as well as annoyed with him. I don’t understand why he acted that way. When we go to the dog park and he’s off leash, he doesn’t dash about barking and threatening anyone. I’m going to talk to his trainer when we go to class on Wednesday and see if I can get some pointers.

          It was a beautiful Seattle day although a bit cold. I’ve included a couple photos I took at Golden Gardens. I just wish we could have walked for a bit since it was so gorgeous.

          From the park, I headed to my friend’s house. She said Kuma could come inside and like a good boy, he peed on command before we crossed the street and went inside. He was very well behaved although he really wanted to jump on my friend’s husband a lot. He was also very good with my friend’s dog, respectful and kind to the old guy.

          When I talked about Kuma’s behavior at the park, the suggestion was made to get a shock collar. Their daughter got one for her dog and it worked very well. I’m not sure I want to do that. I’m not sure it is humane. I’m sure there’s a way to educate Kuma to be a better doggie than he was today.

          Back home, I walked Kuma around the neighborhood on his leash and he did well…no distractions. Then we played ball until his tongue was hanging out. Now he’s sound asleep, curled up in his chair as I type this.

Since I didn’t get a pizza, I figured I’d order something delivered for my dinner. Instead, I took some barbequed ribs out of the freezer and put them in my convection oven for an hour. Then I added some small potatoes, removed the aluminum foil from the ribs and put it back in the oven for another thirty minutes. What I’m now smelling smells extremely good…hope it tastes that good as well.  The oven just beeped, so I think I'm about to find out.

MAKING NEW PLANS???

 

          Undoubtedly, you’re all waiting to hear how wonderful my Northlake Tavern small combination pizza was…well, wait no longer. As I posted my plan yesterday, I began calling just a bit before 11:00 am, opening time, and all I ever got whenever I gave it try was a, “…sorry, we’re busy….” message. I finally gave up.

          I also sent my friend that had waited three hours to get two medium (the only size being made) pizzas, but haven’t heard back from her either. I’d hoped to get some pointers about the best way to get my pizza. Their website says they open at noon on Sunday, so I’m playing with the idea of driving down there and arriving a bit before noon. If there’s a huge line of folks waiting, I’ll just go visit a friend instead. If there’s no line, I’ll get my pizza. I’m afraid, however, that my memories of the Northlake combination pizza will have to suffice.

          Not exactly sure what’s going on with me or if I’ve just realized how close to ninety seventy-seven is…only 13 years, but I’m using the phrase, “I like that, so why shouldn’t I have and/or do that?” What that means is that I’m looking at spending a bit more money on stuff or experiences for myself. That might not sound like too big a deal unless you know me well.

          As an example, I’ve had the same nighties for I don’t know how long. I’m sure I haven’t bought a new one in all the time I’ve been retired...well, maybe one. So, this past week, I ordered four brand new all cotton nighties in styles and colors that I like. True, there’s nothing really wrong with my old ones except I’ve had them forever and they are looking a bit well-used. They don’t have any rips or tears and none of them have gotten so thin you can see through them…like me, they’re just tired. There is a part of me that will celebrate when I put the clean old nighties in the Goodwill box and another part of me that will be chagrined at my wasteful ways. So far that’s my biggest splurge.

          The other thing I’ve been contemplating is getting out and about. There is so many places in the Northwest I have never been. A friend uses Expedition Tours which is located in Rochester WA for her trips, but most of those are lengthier trips. Right now they don’t have any lengthy trips listed, but they do have one-day trips. Since they’re located in Rochester, I’ve emailed to ask if I could meet them at the day’s location if it would be easier for me to get there from here rather than driving to the pick-up location. We’ll see what they say.

          I’ve also looked into another company that does tours that are more local. They appear to be small tours and go to a wide variety of places. The longest tours are ten to twelve hours and include Mt. Rainier, Mt. St. Helens and Victoria Canada. I’d definitely like to do the one to Mt. Rainier since I’ve never been to Paradise. I have been to Mt. St. Helens twice, but it would be fun to let someone else drive and most likely share information I don’t know. And John and I took the clipper to Victoria years ago, but it was winter, so not too fun. 

          For beginners, I think I’ll go to the Flower and Garden Show at the Convention Center which is mid-February. It’s too cold and potentially wet to do some of the other tours that would be available.

          The goal is, I think, to do something at least once each month that gives me a new experience. Sounds like a fairly simple goal doesn’t it, but we’ll see how I do.  It’s too bad I can’t have the January experience be the Northlake just one more time.

AND ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

 

          Earlier this week I heard the Northlake Tavern (NT) is closing. Today, it hit home when I saw a post on Facebook. I went online and looked for the NT web site. And, yes, it’s true, January 31^st will be the last day this wonderful place will exist as it now does. I have so many great memories of eating pizza and drinking wine/beer with so many different people.

          I was introduced to the Northlake Tavern in 1969 when I went to work at the Regional Primate Research Center at the University of Washington. Those were the days when staff went out to lunch on Friday. It was also the time when we drank at lunch. It was thanks to these women I learned to drink martinis, but I digress. We didn’t always go to the NT for lunch, but we did often enough to slake our desire for pizza.

          In turn, I introduced John to the NT. We’d go after work or on the weekend and order a LARGE COMBINATION. Somehow, we’d manage to eat the entire thing and when I say LARGE COMBINATION, that pizza had to weigh several pounds. When I left the Primate Center and we moved to Lake Forest Park, we didn’t go as often and actually went years without making a visit.

          I remember the next time we went there for dinner. We placed our usual order and looked at each other in disbelief when we had to ask for a box for more than half that LARGE COMBINATION. This was followed by my occasionally picking up a small combination after work and bringing it home. Even then, the small was more than the two of us could put away at one sitting.

          Then there was the time my Professor came back to town and wanted to take me to lunch. We went to the NT and he ordered an onion pizza. I couldn’t believe an onion pizza would be very good, but amazingly, it was excellent. I’d ordered something different, but he sent his leftover pizza home with me which is how I discovered it was quite tasty.

          This morning I wrote down the phone number and plan to call at exactly 11:00 am when the Northlake opens and order a small combination for pick-up. According to the Facebook poster, she had to wait three hours to get her two medium pizzas. It took two hours to order and an hour for them to be ready for pickup. I’m hoping I don’t have to wait that long, that I can get right through, order, zip down there and have yummy pizza for dinner…and lunch and dinner and maybe lunch again if the small combination is as large as it was in the past. If it is as good as it’s always been, I plan to enjoy every single taste and bite while I think about the people and times now in the past.

          So, another one bites the dust, becoming a strand woven to completion in my life tapestry over years and decades. The Northlake Tavern will join Wilson’s Drive-In on Aurora, the Twin Teepees, Lamont’s in Lake Forest Park, Goofy’s on Ballinger, the Aurora and Sno-King Drive-ins…well, at my age, I could continue elaborating but I’m sure you get the idea. I’m grateful for those past experiences and memories and understand why these places have ceased to exist, but having those particular tapestry strands tied off, so to speak, does make me sad.

WANTS

 

         

          My mom never talked much about her growing up years. She did leave me with a strong impression that she wished she’d been born male. Momma had three older brothers and one younger. I remember her saying it wasn’t fair that the boys got to go swim in the stream when it was really hot and she couldn’t because she was a girl.

          I think there were many other things that weighed on her desire to have been born the other sex. Her family lived in a Tennessee cove and hardscrabble farming was how they survived. I’m sure her chores included hauling water, cooking, cleaning up and in the latter years of my grandfather’s life, helping grandma care for him as if he was a baby, i.e., bedridden and in diapers.

          When the war came along and her brothers went off to fight, she escaped to Baltimore to work in an airplane factory. That was where she met my biological father and ended up going back home with a bun in the oven and a fake story about her poor dead husband.    

          Still, in the old photographs I have of my mom, grandma and me the first year of my life in Tennessee, we all look healthy and happy. When she and grandma left Tennessee for Idaho with me, I’m not sure either one of them realized they’d never return. It was in Idaho mom met the man who became my daddy, and I remember those years as very happy ones.

          There was lots of love and laughter in our little house. I don’t know if mom had been a great baker growing up, but I remember how she baked, I think, almost every single day. I remember pies, cakes, cookies, cinnamon rolls and once, she even tried donuts. I’m also afraid I was a tad bit spoiled because if I didn’t want to eat my breakfast, momma would bribe me with some of whatever had been baked the day before.

          After we moved to Seattle and momma had to go to work, she never baked again, at least not the way she had in Idaho. Grandma took over most of the cooking and she wasn’t a good cook at all. I realize she cooked pork until it was the consistency of dried leather because she’d grown up with pork containing some kind of deadly worm. It was also her custom, and the custom of many I believe, to cook the hell out of whatever came in a can. I was a grown adult before I found fresh vegetables and learned you didn’t have to cook them to mush.

          One item both my mom and grandma could cook that I never ever was able to make were biscuits, and not from any mix either. Without measuring, they’d put flour in the bowl, cut in some lard or Crisco, add a bit of water, mix it all together, and squeeze off pieces to put on the baking sheet. Those biscuits were light and fluffy and flavorful. The closest I’ve come to finding a close facsimile is the McDonald’s biscuit. It’s not quite as good, but it comes close and one of these days I’m going to ask if I could just buy a dozen without any other breakfast goods. Then, I’ll sit down and slather them with butter, jam and possibly honey and eat my fill.

          I don’t know why I’ve been thinking about my mom today. It’s not her birthday or the date of her death and nothing I’ve done has brought her to mind aside from my wanting something really good from the bakery. Unfortunately, I’ve yet to find a bakery that fulfills that desire. All the store bakeries’ baked goods are fairly tasteless. I want something that tastes good and feels wonderful in my mouth, i.e., pie crust, dense chocolate cake, banana pudding made with vanilla wafers.

          When I sit back and really think about this post, I guess what I’d really like is to have momma and grandma sitting at my table sharing coffee and something yummy while they both provide the answers I’ve been wanting to questions I’ve had for a long time. Grandma’s been gone since 1980 and momma since 1998. When I think of them, all I actually really want is to have them hug and comfort me as I hug and comfort them…maybe in the next life (if there is one).

HOT TODDIES AND OTHER BAD HABITS

           

Late yesterday afternoon, I made myself a hot toddy. I was cold and it helped warm me right up. It also made me just a bit dizzy which made me think of my Grandma Ada. She’s the only other person I’ve ever known that drank hot toddies.

My grandma was there when I was born on a cold early morning. She remained a daily part of my life until I was twelve years old. I have many happy memories of her and the contributions she made to my life. Some of the brightest weavings in my life tapestry were by her.

Whenever we were celebrating something or it was a holiday, my daddy would ask grandma if she wanted a drink. She always asked for a hot toddy and that it not be too strong. I remember her getting a little silly by the time she finished her toddy. I also remember snuggling into bed with her and having her laugh because the bed was swirling around the room. It wasn’t swirling for me, but I loved being close and tight and saying I wouldn’t let her fall off the unsteady bed.

Something else my grandma did that I never took up or even came close to wanting to take up was snuff. In the hills of Tennessee, it was a normal thing for women to use snuff. It wasn’t the kind you see men using with a big cud of it in their cheeks. It was soft powdery brown snuff. Grandma only used it after dinner when it was time to relax. Then, she’d use her little silver spoon to put some of that powder in her lower lip in front of her teeth.

Apparently, the caffeine in the snuff relaxed her, but it also made her salivary glands work overtime. As long as she lived with us, she always had her “spit” can. You see, she wouldn’t swallow the brown-tinged saliva, but spit it into her can. We kids were always very careful of her spit can because the last thing we wanted was to knock it over. Even now, just typing this makes my stomach muscles kinda cringe at the very idea.

I don’t remember ever trying or wanting to try grandma’s snuff, unlike wanting to try my parents’ cigarettes. I think that spit can was entirely responsible for my not wanting to indulge. Why my parents’ ashtrays didn’t have the same effect, I’ll never know.

I did find my parents’ cigarettes disgusting as well, but then I wasn’t trying to smoke a virgin one. I tried smoking a couple of the butts left in the ashtray…so very very nasty. Oh, and I didn’t say they were Camel and Lucky Strike straights…even worse.

Even when I began smoking at the age of twenty-three or -four, I didn’t choose one of their brands or even my husband’s brand. I chose Virginia Slims and had no idea how addictive those skinny and oh so very cool cigarettes would become. I don’t think they were all that strong, because eventually I moved on to a stronger filter cigaretteS…never those Marlboroughs though.

It took many years and many attempts to give up cigarettes and even now, I can’t believe I actually smoked those things. Just today I had to walk by a group of people with at least one of them smoking…it STANK a lot. To think my house, car, clothes, body, hair all stank like that at various times in my life seems almost unbelievable now.

These days I’m extremely pure although like my grandma, I do like me a hot toddy now and then.

TAX TIME

 

          I  opened the drawer in which I toss papers to be filed and was instantly reminded tax time is upon me once again. Prior to retirement, I used Turbo Tax (TT) and continued to do so while John was alive. I used TT because I had more than enough deductions to go long form and TT made sure I got what was coming to me.

          For the last couple of years, I have continued to use TT and pay what to me seems like an exorbitant sum to file my taxes electronically, especially since I cannot go long form now because I do not have enough deductions. So, it makes no sense to me to pay TT to do my taxes when I can do them myself…and pay myself.

          So, I’m going to research what it means for me to do my own taxes. I think there’s a form 1040 Easy that only requires you list your income and the income taxes you’ve already paid. It gives you the correct deduction. I’m assuming I’ll get back most of the taxes I paid, but I don’t really know.

          How do you do your taxes? Do you do them yourself?  Do you pay someone to do them? If so, who do you pay?

I FAILED!!!

         

An entire month of 2023 hasn’t passed and already I’ve fallen behind with my decision to post to my blog every single day even if it’s only a sentence or two. I was in bed last night, and it was approximately 11:30 pm when I realized I hadn’t written my blog post. I thought seriously about getting up and getting it done before midnight, but my bed was warm, Kuma was warm and I simply couldn’t drag up the energy to move. And, it’s entirely possible the wine from the neighbors’ had something to do with it as well.

          Last fall my neighbors asked if I would take care of their houseplants in my house while they traveled. Their original idea was to leave then, come back for a short time for the holidays and then leave again. Unfortunately, the mother of one of the neighbors is in very poor health and so she needs to remain close by. Her husband also believes the economy is going to take a serious downturn, so travel and spending might not be the best idea.

          In any case, they asked if they could come retrieve the plants. I assured them I’d be here whenever they wished to come. When they arrived, we began talking, so the decision was made for them to take the plants home and then return so we could talk more about neighborhood stuff. Then they texted asking if they could bring wine. Of course!!!

          So, the three of us spent a couple of enjoyable hours sipping wine and talking about a wide variety of topics. My neighbor retired from the police force, so he had some very interesting stuff to talk about. We also talked about the economy, our elected officials and how society seems to be on a downward slope, but it was all interesting and we didn’t have any major disagreements. I added some zoo stories of my own to the mix,

          Their visit was followed by a rather late dinner and a bit more wine. So, I simply couldn’t manage to blog. So glad I didn’t make an actual New Year’s resolution because if I had, I would have failed and I hate failing at anything. 

KUMA'S BALLS

         

It’s time to begin thinking seriously about having Kuma’s balls removed. He’s going on seven months now, so whatever hormones they’ve provided up to this point will have done their job in offering him a healthy life. Besides Kaizer and our very first dog, Fang the Wonder Dog, the others have been females. We never had Fang neutered, but then he only had one testicle but just having one didn’t prevent him from visiting the ugliest dog down the street when she was in heat and procreating what became our second dog, Tusk who we did have spayed.

          With all the other dogs, we weren’t allowed to bring them home until they had been spayed or neutered. Karma was, of course, over a year old and had had nine puppies so her being spayed didn’t raise any red flags. With Midnite, Mia, and Kaizer, we could not bring them home until they’d had the procedure, so they were fixed very early in life. Now I understand that’s not a good idea because it affects the animal’s future health.

          I already have an appointment at the vet for Kuma later on this year, but the fee is $500-700 for the procedure. That’s a lot of money. A friend told me about the Seattle Humane Society and how you can get your dog fixed for a whole lot less…$150 for a dog Kuma’s size.

          I’ve been looking into this possibility. It’s for low-income folks, i.e., I cannot make more than $68,000 and change in a year. Hell, I don’t make anywhere close to that figure, so I guess I would be considered low, low, low-income. The thing is you have to be able to get on their schedule. They open the appointments for one day only each month. I don’t know if the appointments are available at 12:01 am or at 8:00 am of that day. I’m going to hedge my bets and try the early time and keep at it until I get an appointment for Kuma.

          Not having Kuma’s regular vet do the surgery makes me feel a bit bad because I do like the doctor and all her employees. Still, to be able to save up to $500 or a bit less rather than paying such a huge sum seems to be good sense. I was telling a friend about this today and she was horrified and offered, “I’ve got a pair of scissors I can bring over.” That did make me cringe.

           Kuma is already such a wonderful companion, I’m wondering if having his nards removed will change his personality in any way. We had a very nice cat decades ago that had a complete personality switch when he was neutered. It was like we sent in a wonderful cat and got back a cat from some horror show. A little something else for me to consider. There's also the fact that never having a male dog (Fang the Wonder Dog doesn't count) with testicles before, I have to admit they look kind of cute nestled in his feathery fur when he's spread-eagled on the couch. 

          Anyway, if you rub Buddha’s belly, light candles, pray, think positively, please do so with regard to Kuma’s upcoming appointment…I’d really like to pay the lesser figure rather than the higher one.

WHO KNEW...CERTAINLY NOT MOI

         

         As we age, we, or at least I, find some portions of my anatomy do not work as well as previously. When my MD put me on the low-dose anti-depressant at bedtime to help me go to sleep, I found the sphincter controlling my bladder’s exit ceased to work quite as well as it had prior to the medication.

          I emailed with my MD and she suggested I see a physical therapist to learn about pelvic floor exercises. I agreed although I actually didn’t see how that would be of any assistance since I do exercises almost every single day of the week, including kegel exercises. Well, let me tell you I was seriously mistaken.

          This afternoon I met with the physical therapist and after answering a multitude of questions was informed that my problem was most likely due not to my pelvic muscles being relaxed but to their being too tight. Boy, did this woman give me an education about my pelvic floor and abdominals. I learned so many things I didn’t know as well as the fact that some things I knew were wrong. She gave me five exercises to do every day with the goal being the relaxation of my pelvic floor muscles and the strengthening of my abdominals.

          Prior to this I had been doing kegal exercises religiously thinking they would remedy my leaky bladder problem. Turns out I need to do reverse kegel exercises to relax, strengthen and elongate the muscles in the pelvic floor. Who knew, right? I certainly didn’t.

          The exercises don’t stop there, however, but include an additional four exercises that are aimed at lengthening and strengthening my abdominal muscles. It looks as though I’ll be able to eliminate two exercises I already do in lieu of the five new ones.

          Sheesh, it’s not as though I’ve been sitting on my butt and doing absolutely nothing about my physical abilities. I mean, really, Enhanced Fitness three times and week and I just added River Walk exercise twice a week. Those are in addition to the daily home exercises I’ve been doing since I had hip and shoulder surgery years ago. I actually thought I was in pretty good shape, and maybe I am for the most part, but my pelvic floor apparently is in need of a daily workout that wasn't provided by my other exercise programs.

          Ah well, if I work hard, who knows, maybe not only will my leaky bladder stop being leaky, but I’ll develop six-pack abdominals…hey, a girl can dream, especially when she’s putting in all this effort.

READING, DUSTING...LAZY, LAZY, LAZY

         

All I really wanted to do today was curl up on the couch with Kuma beneath my wondrous quilt and read my book. I started out that way after I attended my fitness class, prepared both my lunch and dinner and ate my lunch. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for my I-pad to indicate it needed to be charged. I kept reading until finally, the screen went black. It’s plugged in and charging as I type.

          So, I had to do something with myself. I decided I would dust my bedroom, not that it needed it…hah!!! I gathered up my equipment and worked for a while to make the reddish-black furniture look reddish-black as opposed to gray. I also removed, dusted and replaced all the various things I had sitting around the room. I attempted to remember when I last did this and hate to admit it may have been in mid-September of last year. Shame on me, but really, I hate to dust and it’s not like I have daily or even monthly visitors in my bedroom.

          After that I sat down to look at a magazine I was given by my nail person…I asked to borrow and she gave. I found myself wondering who reads these magazines anymore. It was Good Housekeeping and I found little of value on any of the pages. I’m sure a young woman just starting out would have found the decorating, cooking, and skin-care tips all helpful and fascinating. Still, it’s pretty much the same stuff I read when I was that young woman. Funny how everything changes but it all stays the same.

          Tonight is Kuma’s third training class. I’d like to skip this too, but how will he learn stuff if I don’t learn what it is I need to teach him. We practiced down this week and walking on a leash. He did well with both exercises although unless I’m leading with a treat, he doesn’t want to do down. I wonder if he’ll eventually do “down” without being led by a treat between my fingers.

          According to the booklet, we’re going to work on “Take it, Leave it, and Drop it.” I think we have an advantage when it comes to these lessons since we’ve been doing something similar only I use “Bring it.” I know we definitely will need to work on drop it and leave it. Still, Kuma is a smart puppy and I’m sure we’ll master those in no time.

          The weatherman indicates tomorrow and Friday are supposed to be sunny. Even though it was sunny just yesterday, I’m ready for more sun. If that’s the case, Kuma and I will be out and about enjoying the day.

KUMA AND THE DOG PARK...AND MY GLASSES

          Yesterday (Monday) was a beautiful day with sunshine although the temperature could have been a little bit warmer. I decided I would take Kuma to a dog park for the first time. I thought about the one in Mountlake Terrace, but it’s pretty shady and who wants to be in the shade when the sun shines…not us.

          We drove down to Marina Beach Park in Edmonds and were lucky to find a parking place that wasn’t too far from the off-leash area. Kuma wanted to stop and smell absolutely everything as we walked toward the gate. I was patient for a bit, but also wanted to practice our walking training we'd learned last week. There were dogs coming out and going in and Kuma made a half-hearted attempt to bark at them.

          Once inside, I removed his leash and he followed me toward the water and all the dogs that were ranging from one side of the beach to the other. Kuma wasn’t too sure about all this or about all those dogs. Except for a few times, he stayed fairly close to me and even then, he would come right back as though I were his touchstone and would keep him safe…and, of course, I definitely would do that.

          I met a few very nice people there with their dogs, or in the case of young man, a group of dogs he under his care. He said he was a dog walker and trainer. Some of the dogs went into the water as though it were absolutely the thing to do. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a soaking wet, and most likely stinky, dog when it was time to go home. I'll probably find out at some point. Kuma was fairly circumspect when it came to the water and the waves. He was investigating the water and even took a tongue full when a bigger wave washed in…scared him right back to the hard sand.   

          It was my hope that Kuma would make a couple of buddies and dash all about the dog park. That didn’t really happen. He did dash about some, but not to the extent I had thought he would or that I wanted him to. Still, it was his first trip to a dog park and it won’t be his last. I did take some video that I hoped I could include with this post, but apparently it was too big to email to my computer so I could include. I'll just have to post it to Facebook.

          When we left the dog park, we went to Dick’s Drive-in and shared two cheeseburgers and fries. I had a small diet coke and asked for a small water. Even before the bag with the food was opened, Kuma lapped up almost the entire cup of water, and yes, quite a bit of it splashed about, but he was a thirsty dog. Note to self about bringing a bowl and water on the next trip.

          Back home, I felt he still needed more exercise and I needed more sun, so we played ball for a while. A couple of neighbors walked by and took turns chucking the ball up the street for Kuma while the other neighbor and I chatted.

          It would have been a great day; and perhaps Kuma didn’t deserve to have so much fun because he was a naughty boy first thing. While I was getting ready for our adventure, Kuma took my glasses off my nightstand and proceeded to play with them as though they were a toy. Initially, I thought I could just go to Costco and have the arms bent back to their correct shape. Unfortunately, Kuma managed to chew the ear pieces as well, so I think they are completely ruined.

          Fortunately, I have a spare pair that are the same prescription (I think) but I don’t particularly like the frames. They will have to do until mid-March when I have an appointment for an eye exam. I know my eyes have changed quite a bit (or it seems that way to me), so the result of the exam will most likely be a new prescription…and now, new frames that definitely won't be left in a location accessible to Kuma.  

FISHBOWL

           

living is not for me. I’m so glad I ordered the new sheer curtain panels. My front living room window seems hugely HUGE. The new curtains should arrive later this week and I can go back to living incognito this weekend. 

SHEER PRIVACY???

           It’s amazing how sheer white curtain panels made me feel much more private than I probably was. I don’t know how old the curtains were, but Kuma managed to shred one of the panels trying to look outside without the sheer curtain screen. I’m sure from the outside it looked as though a poor old person lives here…true, but it doesn’t have to look that way.

          This morning I managed to pull down the rod that held all four curtain panels. I tossed the shredded one and prepared the others for the Goodwill box I seem to have going all the time. Then, I ordered four new panels from Jaque Penne’ and they’ll arrive later this week. I could have picked them up at the Tukwila store but am sure I would have used up the $8.95 delivery fee in wear and tear and gas for the car plus I’m worth far mor than $8.95 an hour…or at least I was.

          So, my front living room window is sans sheer curtains. It’s wide open except for the drapes that are on either side. I don’t ever draw those drapes but maybe I’ll think about it depending on how visible I am to the neighbors. It’s amazing how big that window now appears and how close the outside now appears.

          I think I’ll need assistance to get the rod with the new panels aboard back on its holders. I hate to ask but I’m afraid one of my sons or my granddaughter will need to pay me a visit. Perhaps I can entice whichever one with yummy food or a promise not to call for help again for at least a month. I know they don’t mind coming to help me, but I just hate to have to ask.

          Now that I’ve done my post for today, I’m going to go get on my couch with Kuma and determine just how much of a fishbowl I’m living in without those sheer curtains.

SOME DAYS ARE HARDER...

         

than others. I have no idea why. I can’t point to one single thing that makes a particular day harder than another day. Today, Saturday, was a harder day than any I’ve had so far in 2023. Again, I don’t know why. I just know that I didn’t feel a lot of joy no matter what I was doing. Walking Kuma, chucking the ball up the street for him in sunshine that fell on my back and actually made me hot…nope, didn’t feel particularly joyful.

          None of the other accomplishments of today brought joy either, i.e., getting two weeks-worth of laundry done, making myself a nice dinner, transferring over a thousand pictures to the frame the kids bought me for Christmas, and attempting to figure out the PhotoStick Omni that came in the mail yesterday. Maybe it was the frustration engendered by the PhotoStick Omni. Yep, I’m going to go with that. It came with hardly any instructions, the link to the online help wasn’t very helpful and just made me more frustrated.

          According to all the hoopla I read about the PhotoStick Omni, all I had to do as plug it in and it would sort through all my photographs, eliminate any duplicates and organize them perfectly for me. What this thing actually is and does is backup everything you have on your computer…even the files in the recycle bin. I do have the option of returning it for a full refund minus the shipping costs…I may do that unless the shipping costs are HUGE.

          Maybe tomorrow will hold more joy. I’ll go to bed tonight with that thought at the forefront of my brain. When I get up in the morning, I’ll just CHOOSE to have a much more joyful day. 

A TALE OF TWO TEAKETTLES

          My eldest son likes me to blog about the past. This post is the story of two teakettles and how amazing it was the fire department didn’t visit.

          December 1965. My parents had moved out of town, so I’d had to get an apartment. It was just a couple of blocks from where I worked. Of course, being young and horny  all the time, John spent the majority of his nights with me in my apartment.

          When John got to the apartment, I was still at work. The firm consisted of all men except for me. That particular day was just before Christmas, so the firm was having the office Christmas party.

          Oh, did I mention it was cold and snowy outside? Well, it was. So, John very thoughtfully drove the couple of blocks so I wouldn't have to walk home. The men in the firm welcomed him with open arms and full glasses. We had a lot of fun before we finally got in the car and returned to the apartment.

          It’s true about John being a thoughtful man. Before he left to get me, he put the teakettle on the stove so we could have tea when we got back.  Well, it hadn’t been a quick trip and that teakettle melted onto the burner. It was ruined, but thankfully, nothing caught fire.

          The second teakettle loss happened several decades later. It had nothing to do with being thoughtful. John was home with Thor who was either in his late teens or early twenties. John put the teakettle on the stove but raised the lid so it wouldn’t whistle…not the smartest idea.

          John and Thor were watching something on TV…probably that crazy guy who had all kinds of weirdos on his show. I don’t remember who or what they were watching, but it was hugely entertaining. By the time John remembered the teakettle, it too had begun to melt onto the burner. They rushed out and bought a new teakettle and tried to make me think it was a gift they simply wanted me to have; however, neither of them could keep from laughing and smirking, so they had to tell on themselves.

          It was all fine. The new teakettle was better than the melted one and I'm still using it.

MORE LIGHT IN THE DARK

          Monday of this week I went to Ace Hardware to pick up a couple of items. There were signs saying all the Christmas lights were 90% off. I took a box up and asked how much it would be…$1.50. Each box held one hundred lights and the cords were white which is the color of my fence.

          I’ve always wanted to wrap the top rail in lights but never got around to it, mainly because the lights were so expensive when the lighting season came along. I bought all the boxes they had which was seven. I called AJ to see if I needed something to protect the cords as they joined. He didn’t answer but a very nice, and handsome, young man offered his advice. So, I purchased these thingies that you put the connections in. They were more expensive than the lights…$4.99.

          I spent time running an extension cord from the deck out to the end of the fence closest to the house. Then I wound the lights around the fence rails. I’m one of those people who are unable to figure out feet and inches…and yes, I’ve heard the joke about “THIS MUCH” being six inches. Anyway, I figured I had enough to do the entire fence…wrong. When finished, the fence beside the driveway remains unlit, but the rest of the fence is very bright. I think if I’d stretched the initial strings, I might have had enough. Ah well.

          Now, all I have to do is figure out the timer so the lights come on when it gets dark and go off at the witching hour. These dark and dreary days require a lot more light, at least in my opinion.

KUMA GETS A SHOWER

          On Tuesday, after I finished putting lights on the fence, it was time for a shower. On the spur of the moment, I decided I’d put Kuma in the shower too.

          I thought I could kneel on a towel on the floor, wet him down, apply shampoo, scrub and then rinse. Wrong. There was no way he was going to stay in the shower with the door open. Good thing I’d already disrobed.

          In the shower with the door closed, I was able to get him all squeaky clean. I got out of the shower first to get the towel ready to toss over him before he could shake water all over the bathroom. Goodness, but Kuma’s a fast little bugger. I finally got a towel over him at the exit from the bathroom…good thing I’d closed that door. I dried him as much as possible and put down a dry towel for him to lay on while I took my shower.

          While I was cleaning myself, the noise Kuma was making was unbelievable. You would have thought he was being tortured in some fashion. When I got out of the shower, he was laying on the bathroom rug and the three towels I’d provided were in three separate piles around the room. All in all, it took four huge beach towels to dry my puppy.

          Then I tried to use the hair dryer on Kuma. He wouldn’t hold still for that, even on the low setting. He’s seen me use it, but he didn’t like the idea of that hot air blowing on him. I persisted and managed to get parts of him dryer than they had been.

          This was followed in a bit by some brushing. I had to laugh because Kuma has waves on the top of his back. Those waves became stand up curls and looked so very cute. I did brush him for a bit and filled the brush twice with this soft downy hair. I think it was the undercoat he’s supposed to have. There certainly weren’t any longer stiffer hairs in the mix.

          We were both exhausted by the time the brushing was finished. We curled up on the couch together, both of us smelling very clean.

I WANT...

           

NEW STUFF!!! Remember being young and thinking about all the “stuff” you’d one day have? And how about that old saying about how the one with the most toys at death wins? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.

          When I got married at the age of 20, I started married life off with most of the “stuff” my parents had. True, I didn’t own, but rented a little house. I had a washer and dryer, but no dishwasher. When we eventually bought a house, it was a house that was better in many ways from the one in which I grew up.

          Today, I’m still living in the house we bought in 1969. I still have a washer and dryer as well as a dishwasher and a wide variety of other appliances which, with the exception of the toaster, microwave and Nespresso machines are rarely used. They take up counter and cupboard space, but I do use them every now and then.

          I’ve had the same furniture for probably fifty years. True, the cushions have been replaced several times, but the furniture fits the space and continues to be comfortable. Still, I see the TV ads and wish I could have a new set of furniture. True, it probably wouldn’t be as well made as the pieces I currently own, but it would be NEW.

          The same thought process applies to the dishes and pots and pans in the cupboard. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with any of it except I’ve had it forever. The pots and pans are Belgique or cast iron. The dishes are Fiesta ware and, knock wood, not a single piece is broken or chipped. I just don’t like the colors any longer…the new neon-colored collections are gorgeous.

          I remember the excitement of gathering up all my possessions. We didn’t buy the furniture all at once. We had to buy what we could afford when we could afford it. The same applies to the cookware…a piece at a time as a birthday or Christmas present. The Fiesta ware I did buy all at once…the place settings anyway, but the add on pieces like the butter dish, salt and pepper shakers, etc., were gifted or purchased on the as I can afford it plan.

          Then there’s the stuff in the closet. I really shouldn’t have to buy another piece of clothing in my life…okay maybe some new underwear at some point. All the other clothing is perfectly and fits, more or less. There’s even garments in there I haven’t put on in several years, but I keep them because I might go on another cruise or some fun vacation. Probably won’t happen and if it did, surely I could afford to buy some new items for whatever the trip might be. Still, I miss those shopping trips I used to take a couple of times a month before I retired. I’d shop the sales and the marked down sections and was elated every single time I found something I really liked that was cheap, cheap, cheap. I don’t even do that any more.

The fact of the matter is I have absolutely everything I need to last me the remainder of my life. I’d just like to have new “stuff,” but it’s not a necessity. The opinions of me, myself and I are that we don’t need anything. All we really want is the elation that would be brought on by getting the NEW.  How about you, dear reader. Do you want new stuff too?

THE CUCKOO SINGS AGAIN

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          John’s grandparents were married in the early 1900s and one of their wedding gifts was a cuckoo clock. John inherited the clock from his father. When it came to our house, it smelled so badly of cigarette smoke John relegated it to the garage for a while to air out. Then, it came inside and we had to accustom ourselves to the “noise” this clock makes.

          On each quarter hour, a little quail comes out a little door and chirps/chimes. First for the quarter hour, then the half hour followed by the three-quarter hour and finally, the hour. At the hour, it is immediately followed by the cuckoo who comes out his door and cuckoos and chimes however many hours it is right then.

          At some point at least several decades ago, a friend of John’s who had attended the clock repair school at Northgate State took the clock and did whatever repair was needed at that time plus, he cleaned the entire outside. We had no idea the grape decorations were shiny gold nor that the numerals and hands were made of bone and an off-white color. It was amazing really.      

          Jump ahead another decade or more and the clock needed another repair. I searched around and found someone, but John wasn’t going to let just “anybody” have his clock. The repairman had to come to our house. Enter a young man from Uzbekistan. His name is David and he was suitably impressed with John’s clock and John was suitably impressed with him. David took the clock away and returned it a couple of weeks later all fixed and ready to chirp/chime/cuckoo again.

          I don’t remember how long it was after that a young boy was caught trying to hang from the chains on the clock. His mother used to come to our house and cut the entire family’s hair. John wasn’t here when it happened. He’d had his haircut and gone off to his Lion’s Club meeting. AJ caught the boy. Initially, John didn’t seem especially upset, but he was never one to actually show his feelings. He wrote this kid’s mother a letter and she hasn’t been in touch with us since.

          It was David to the rescue. He was appalled by what had happened, but was able to make the proper repairs. This repair was followed by another one when  John tried to correct the time by pushing on one of the bone hands and broke it. David could not find a replacement so he carefully repaired the hand and gave strict instructions about NOT EVER touching the hands like that again.

          Each night and morning, John would pull the chains and wind the clock. It is supposed to be a one-day clock where you only pull the chains once; however, I think the clock needs to hang in a higher location for that to happen. When John died, I attempted to keep the clock going. At some point in time, I didn’t wind it and the pinecone weights ended up on the floor and the clock stopped. I wound it and tried to get it back to the correct time without success. So, for most of the time John has been gone, the clock has been silent.

          Not only do I miss John, but I missed the sound of that clock. I decided in December I would figure out how to get it to tell the correct time without touching the hands. I think I was well on my way by Christmas day. When I left for brunch, I had not wound the clock. When I came home, the pinecone weights were all on the floor and the center chain had disappeared up into the inside of the clock.

          Determined to make the cuckoo sing again, I called David over the New Year’s holiday. I wasn’t sure he would remember me or John, but he remembered John very well and how much he loved that clock. Last Thursday, I took the clock in to David and he (amazingly) fixed it while I waited. I’d never seen the inside and when David took the back off, I was astounded at all the gears and connections and stuff I couldn’t begin to identify that reside inside. David told me several times as he worked that he was so sorry John had passed and that he remembered how much John loved his clock…perhaps those memories were why David didn’t charge me for the fixes, i.e., bringing the chain back out and setting the time.

          When David was finished, he gave me strict instructions and made me promise I would have my son (the intended recipient of the clock when I’m gone) come and mount it back in its place. In addition, he made me write down the order of tasks we were to perform to bring the clock back on line. I’m including those here so AJ can look back and find the instructions should they be required.

1.     Gently place the clock on the wall and make sure it is level.

2.    Carefully place each weight on a chain.

3.    Add the pendulum.

4.    Wait until the time shown by the hands on the clock and then push the pendulum.

David also said we should never pull the weights up flush with the bottom of the clock. We should always leave a couple of inches (even with the bottom of the leaf decoration) of chain when winding.

AJ was here yesterday and he/we carefully followed David’s instructions. We laughed about the last time AJ did this when John was alive. John kept giving AJ direction and fussing at AJ while he was trying to connect the top piece. Ah, those memories are so great. AJ left well before it was time to push the pendulum, but I set the alarm clock so I’d be sure to make that push. I also put up post-it notes that say, CLOCK, to remind me to pull those chains until it becomes a habit.

At 4:00 pm, I pushed the pendulum and the ticking began. The quail did its business each quarter hour and at 5:00 pm, the cuckoo made his entrance and sang away. Since then, the clock’s noise has brought me joy and comfort. John hasn’t returned, but the sound of his clock has…I’m so grateful.