HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who reads my blog and even those who don’t. Yep, it’s the big T-day and I can already smell the turkey cooking away in the oven. It smells yummy.

I hope it tastes yummy. I haven’t cooked a big turkey since about 2018, I think. Earlier this year, I cooked a very small one that I’d purchased at Christmas time. It was good, so I have hope for this turkey.

My neighbor stopped by this morning on his daily walk to give me a hug and wish me Happy Thanksgiving. He and his wife are hosting two of their grandkids and his brother and wife. I’m hosting my son, his wife and daughter. We had a little chat about previous Thanksgivings when there were more than 20 people around the table, including young children. I think we both mourn, to some degree, the fact our holiday celebrations have become so small.

Still that’s life. Our children grow up, just as we did and move too far to come home for the festivities or begin their own holiday traditions. I now appreciate, ever so much more than I did at the time, the huge feasts John and I hosted for our friends and family. 

Today, I celebrate both those who will join me in my home as well as those who are holding their own Thanksgiving elsewhere. Today, I’m also thankful for the memories of all the years past as well as the memories I’ll be making/sharing today.  

IT DOESN'T PAY TO STEAL

 Currently, I am so frustrated with myself I can hardly type, think or believe what’s been happening with me for the last little bit. And, I guess you could add scared to the list of feelings I’m having. Allow me to reiterate my concerns.

For the first time ever, I left my credit card at the restaurant where I had lunch on Friday. I was debating on whether I wanted to keep the waitress’ pen. My friend and I joked about being thieves because we both liked the pens provided. I decided to keep mine because I really did like it. My friend teased me about how God would punish me for the theft. 

I left the restaurant and drove to Lynnwood Costco to buy gas. Of course, I couldn’t bother myself to get out my cards in advance of my arrival at the pump. It was when I pulled out my Costco card that I realized I didn’t have my credit card. So, I used a different credit card to buy gas while I called the restaurant and asked about my credit card. Yes, they had it. Already my friend’s threat of punishment was coming true.

So, instead of going to the mall and doing a bit of Christmas shopping, I turned around and went back to the restaurant. I planned to give back the pen, but the young woman who helped me when I arrived took me back into the bar where my card was locked away. I felt extremely stupid having left it behind. The woman said I wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. To prove her point, she held up a stack of cards that had been left behind…must have been about a half inch thick. It didn’t really make me feel less stupid and I left still in possession of the pen I stole…I should have given it back.

Today, I went to my fitness class, the post office and then to the Aurora Costco. Sheesh, what a busy place. It took forever to find a parking place and I had to be careful not to run into people, cars or long lines of carts being returned from the field. Finally, I parked, took off my seat belt and gloves and opened my wallet to retrieve my Costco card. Well, guess what, it wasn’t there. Neither was the spare card I used to buy gas on Friday. I then remembered I hadn’t returned the cards to my wallet on Friday. My punishment continues.

So, here I am back home without any of the items I planned to purchase at Costco. I’ll have to try again tomorrow and maybe the store won’t be quite as busy. Meanwhile, I’m beginning to wonder about my cognitive abilities. True, I haven’t missed any important appointments, actually lost a credit card, or done anything else that is of a huge concern. Still, it’s worrisome. Maybe there’s some truth to my friend telling me God would punish me. If that’s the case, then I promise to never ever steal another pen from a waitress/waiter. I’ll even put that pen in my car and return it to the restaurant next month when my friend and I again meet there for lunch. 

Hopefully, my punishment won’t continue now that I’ve confessed and promised to never ever again resort to pilfering a waitress’ pen. Time will tell.

CLEANING HOUSE

Serious consideration was given to hiring a housekeeping firm to come in and clean my house in advance of Thanksgiving. I decided not to do that because I’m perfectly capable of cleaning my own house…when I want to. And, based on what I found just in the dining/computer/kitchen areas, I would have been red-faced had someone else come in with their mops/dust cloths/vacuums. 

Sheesh, I had no idea I’d become such a slovenly housekeeper. This morning, I began by dusting everything up high so whatever might fall to the floor could do so prior to my vacuuming and dusting the lower items. Everything got moved so I could clean under and behind. Wowzer, but I have to say I’m probably lucky the spiders that live in Washington aren’t poisonous.

I found spiders and spider webs in places I don’t think I’ve ever found them in the past. They were behind the table that holds photos and tchotchkes, beneath the chair seats, under the table, even in the window. I was shocked by all the places that held spiderwebs.

And, dust. Again, sheesh, but when I sprayed the tchotchke table and wiped, my dust cloth looked as though I’d taken it outside and dropped it in the dirt. All the glass sitting around as well as the framed photos had a coating of dust. I’ve tried to remember just when I last dusted the dining room and cannot recall when it happened. 

My computer and desk was another shock. I knew I’d slopped food on the glass covering the desk top, but I didn’t realize just how much I’d managed to miss my mouth or the bowl/plate. There were lots of “oops” because most days I eat breakfast at my desk and some days I also eat lunch and/or dinner there as well. I used to get annoyed with John because he ate at the desk and made a mess…guess I owe him a big apology.

Now, I just have a bit more cleaning to do which involves the kitchen and I don’t expect any surprises there. When I prepare food and do dishes, it’s almost a requirement to clean up after myself. Of course, I had no idea just how bad the dining room and computer area had become, so there may be a surprise or two left. I know if I moved the stove or fridge, I’d be looking at a mess because I haven’t done that for at least a year…maybe in January I’ll force myself to do a deep clean and get beneath those appliances. I guess it will just depend on how busy my social life is or how the book I’m reading at the time holds my interest. 

HOLIDAY NEWSLETTERS...YAY OR NAY???

 

While mucking about in my computer today as I waited for the printer to print all my stuff, I came across a folder entitled “Holiday Greetings.” The last holiday greeting/newsletter I prepared was Christmas 2019. I haven’t done one since, nor have I sent very many plain Christmas cards. I’m not sure exactly why, except I felt I didn’t really have anything newsworthy to share, plus my family and friends network has become small.

Now, it’s five years later and I’m wondering if I should try sending either a newsletter or Christmas cards to the “important” folks on my address list. For all I know, some of them may have joined John in which case I would waste the seventy-some cents postage. On the other hand, it would be one way to find out who remains alive.

All the years I did a newsletter, starting when I typed, cut and pasted graphics, etc., I really enjoyed putting it together. It became even more fun when computers took away the physical cutting and pasting. I loved looking back at the year and relating what John and I and the boys had accomplished. Even after the boys grew up, married and had their own kiddlings, I always enjoyed reporting on everyone’s accomplishments.

I remember John’s sister referring to our newsletters as “bragletters;” however, I always included the bad with the good, so I never looked at our newsletters as bragging about our lives. Sometimes, we all had a good year and sometimes not. Sometimes one or more of us experienced failure in our efforts to reach some kind of accomplishment. To me, it was all worth sharing and I did so. Not only that, but I enjoyed receiving the newsletters family and friends sent out.

Over the years, I always saved a copy. They’re all in a three-ring binder in the bookcase. I wonder if the kids will enjoy looking back over them when they’re going through all my stuff at some point. Perhaps I should take a gander at them now and decide if the time has come for me to look back over my own personal year and “brag” about my accomplishments or share my difficulties. I haven’t quite decided yet. Guess I’ll have to give it some more thought while browsing years past.

LAUNDRY

 

          It’s always surprising to me when my old 286 grinds and squeaks and brings up memories I haven’t given a single though to in forever. And, then, suddenly, there it/they is, as crystal clear as a blue summer sky. This happened just now as I was putting the second load of laundry into the washer.

The memory of my mom doing laundry popped into my head. Actually, it was memories. We lived in Idaho then and I was under the age of eight. My mom used two zinc washtubs and a washboard to do the laundry every week. I don’t remember clearly, but I think this entailed boiling water on the stove and adding it to the tubs. 

I also remember some kind of device my mom used when she washed the lace/sheer curtains. This was pieces of wood that would interlock. The wood had what looked to me like needles all along the edge. Mom would fit the edge of the curtains over the needles, and once dry, they were without wrinkles. I’d seriously like to know what this device was called, so if anyone has that information, please share.

Of course, there was no dryer for the wet clothes, so they were hung on a clothesline with clothespins. I don’t remember what she did in the wintertime when the snow was higher than my head, but I’m sure we didn’t go all winter without clean clothes. Funny how parts of some memories are totally missing.

Once we moved to Seattle, mom got a wringer washer. It was a Maytag and there were hoses that went from the sink to the washer to fill up the tub. I don’t remember if the clothes went in first or after the water was added. I just know the washer left the corner of the kitchen and practically filled the door to the sink area. After the washer had sloshed for a while, mom would feed the clothes through the two rollers that were above the tub. These rollers pressed most of the water out of the clothes. They weren’t dry by any means, but they weren’t dripping either. 

There was a shed attached to the house that was mostly used for storing the lawnmower and other garden stuff. Clotheslines were strung in this shed and that’s where the clothes were hung to dry. In the winter, the clothes froze and were stiff as a board. I cannot remember if freezing them dried them or not. What a chore laundry had to be for my mom for the first thirty or forty years of her life.

Mom did get a brand new washer and dryer when they moved from Seattle. I was even luckier because there was a laundry room at my first apartment; and when John and I moved to our first house, there was a washer and dryer there as well. The landlord even let us take them to our new home when we purchased our first and only home. 

The whole point of this exercise is, I guess, my inner brain talking to moi when I was lamenting having to do the laundry. I mean, one load is already in the dryer and another in the washer. That will leave only two more loads to go, and I’ll be done with the laundry for the week in a couple of hours. Fresh sheets on the bed, fresh towels in the bathroom, fresh undies in the drawer, fresh pants and tops in the closet. 

Looking back at how laundry progressed for my mom, I really can’t/shouldn’t complain about the few hours I spend doing laundry. The mental photos my brain brought to the forefront weren’t of a woman who was, like me this morning, feeling put-upon or pissed about this chore. I remember a woman who had a smile for me, who would take time to make me lunch, give me a hug or offer words of praise or encouragement for my piddly attempts to be helpful. 

Funny how memories like this rise up from time to time and bring with them a warmth and appreciation for what came before. Today’s memories also brought a life lesson…be grateful for what you have now and be thankful for those memories of what had to be a much more difficult time for mom. Even more, I should be grateful my life never incurred the difficulties my mom had to deal with. And yet, in my memories, she did so with a smile and without complaining.  

THEN AND NOW

  Don’t you think it’s amazing when you look back over the years of your life to see how much you accomplished and how much you’ve changed? Well, I do. In fact, I spent a brief amount of time this morning doing just that when I was contemplating the cleaning that needs to be done prior to hosting Thanksgiving.GP_haley1013 And, okay, it’s only AJ, Angie and Haley who will be attending and they probably don’t care one way or another about Kuma’s hair all over the floor or the dust that covers the various tables and knick-knacks throughout the house. They’re coming for the yummy food and to spend a bit of time with moi.

Still, in looking back, I’m absolutely amazed at what I used to accomplish on a weekend while working full time. Seriously, I’d vacuum from one end of the house to the other, dust every single thing in every single room, do a number of loads of laundry and end the two days with a sparkling home. In addition, I’d usually have made dinner both days, grocery shopped and planned ahead for the coming week. And, okay, I was much younger then and probably, no actually, had way more energy and stamina than I do these days.

Plus, I also had John to lend a hand, although his favorite comment was always, “Why in the hell are you doing all this cleaning before company comes? You’re only going to need to do it again after they all leave.” He did have a point, but I simply couldn’t have guests visit when all was a mess.

To be perfectly honest, thinking of the past moi and all I achieved in a couple of days, I felt rather despondent over the loss of the abilities I once took for granted. But, as they say, life goes on and the years take their toll. Instead of being unhappy about what I’m no longer capable of doing, I should rejoice in the fact I can still undertake and complete so very many chores whether they’re required for impending company or just for my own satisfaction…I do love it when the floors, tables and glass sparkle in the daylight or lamplight.

So, I’ve determined I’ll take on a room a day beginning next week. By doing that, I should be able to attend my classes, see my friends, play with Kuma, and still have one room vacuumed, mopped, dusted and looking like an actual adult human lives here at the end of each day. Stay tuned…I’ll blog about either my accomplishments or my inability to adhere to my plan. 

THANKSGIVING

 

        Ever since I sent the family email about the holiday plans, I’ve been thinking about holidays past. This year’s and years post-covid have seen a vast difference in how we get together for the holidays now as opposed to years prior. I’ve enjoyed looking back at all those previous times, but it also saddens me when I think of the present.

As a kid, and, okay, I know that was back in the dark ages, the holidays were always full of family. Aunts and uncles, cousins, you might not have seen since summer, or even since the last holidays, even some neighbors would all gather together at someone’s house for turkey and all the trimmings.

I’m sure at the time of these various events, depending on my age, I simply wanted them to all go home or for my family to go home. There was always lots of drinking and socializing. Sometimes if the gathering went a bit too long, there was also arguing as a result of too much tippling, mainly by the great aunts and uncles. Still, I have warm memories of being hugged, being asked about school, social life or whatever else had been happening in my own little life.

This changed over time as the greats passed on, especially the one special great who always did the planning. The gatherings got smaller but they often still included people I didn’t see on a regular basis. 

The next big change came when John and I became parents. We decided we didn’t want to gather up our son, pull him away from all the new toys Santa had brought and go to someone else’s house. Initially, we just Christmas, but when my parents downsized, we became the Thanksgiving hosts as well.

Those Thanksgivings were full of people as well because we included not only family, but friends and their families. At one time, I remember seating twenty-two or twenty-four around the table. I could go back and look at the photos…we always took a photo after dinner…to determine just how many. Oh my, but how the memories of the faces that no longer inhabit my life remain in my mind as they were then. It also makes me wonder what they look like now.

This was a lot of hard work, but all attendees brought something to contribute to the bounty on the table. There was lots of comradery, laughter, memory sharing, and great food. These little gatherings usually began late afternoon and carried on into the evening, or at least until it was time for the little ones to be home and in bed. 

It makes me happy to look back at these times and dredge up the various memories brought to the forefront of my mind. It also makes me sad because so many of the folks who gathered around my table are no longer part of my life. Some have, of course, passed on, but others with whom I/we were friends have disappeared into the mists of time. I wonder if they’re still alive and whether they think about those Thanksgivings as they make whatever holiday plans they have these days.

I wonder, too, if their gatherings have become as small as the one I will host this year, if some of their family members will be absent, and whether or not they, too, look back and remember our splendid times together. And, perhaps, maybe, like me, miss those times as well. 

OH NO...I NEED A NEW MD

  ARRRRRRGH…I just spent far too long trying to determine which lucky person would become my new doctor. For more than twenty-five years, I had a wonderful doctor at Group Health and then she retired. She was replaced by another fantastic woman who is now going to continue to work for Kaiser, but her new position won’t have her seeing patients. So, I have to find a new provider; and hopefully, before I need to have an appointment.

          I have always been proactive when it comes to my health just as I was for my husband and children. The fact I was the editor for the last publication of the Textbook of Physiology and Biophysics, was of great benefit when it came to talking to doctors and understanding what they were saying back to me. Actually, there were times when I would have appreciated knowing a lot less about the human body and how it works.

Having a new doctor to “educate” doesn’t fill me with joy. Both my previous doctors “knew” me and would prescribe and/or advise via email without my having to trek into the office. Hopefully, whomever is the lucky provider of my health care will be able to access past information and communications. I would assume she will have access to My Chart. I can only hope she’ll be able to take a minute to look back and see my prior relationship(s); or that my current doctor will reach out and inform her as to my knowledge and understanding about my various conditions.

I’ve been extremely fortunate with the doctors who have cared for me for most of my adult life. I’m rather hoping this tradition can continue with whomever comes next, especially now that I’m OLD and have so many more complaints than in the past. Wish me luck.

NEIGHBORS

  I’ve been a resident in this neighborhood/house for fifty-five years. During all those years, the neighbors have been mostly friendly and helpful if help was required. Over those years, I watched their kids grow up as they watched mine. I have a lot of very fond memories of the folks that inhabited the houses in this neighborhood.

Unfortunately, time passes; and while I’m still here, the majority of my favorite folks and their/our children moved on to new locations for one reason or another. There’s only one other person in the neighborhood who’s been here longer than me and she turned 100 in September. I’ve a feeling I’ll be the eldest, longest residing neighbor in the not-too-distant future.

What’s caused me to reflect on all those years, those neighbors and the replacements who now occupy the houses around me is the fact I cannot do anything that would be personally satisfying because what I’d choose to do is undoubtedly illegal and would be recorded on someone’s camera. Still, I remain annoyed and thought getting those annoyances out through my fingers might be helpful to me.

I was fortunate enough to have one neighbor for thirty-eight years. We got along famously and were comfortable enough to borrow an egg, a cup of sugar or whatever our recipe lacked from each other. We simply met at the fence and handed over whatever the other one required. They were older and ill health necessitated their move.

Initially, the family that moved in seemed like a good fit, that is until he began to send us emails and letters about the fact our mutual fence was at least one foot on his property. He wanted that one foot back. Well, we didn’t erect the fence, the original property owner did so, and once a fence has been in place for thirty-eight years, it cannot legally be removed and replaced so the neighbor can recover that one foot of ground. This might not have been quite so annoying if John hadn’t been fairly ill at the time.

The house behind me was owned for many years by my son's best friend’s family. This family allowed me to put my yard waste behind our fence as well as my cutting back ivy, blackberries, morning glories and weeds so they didn’t grow through the fence. Again, initially, this family seemed as though their occupation of this property would be just fine. I did check about placing yard waste on their property and ceased doing so when they responded to my inquiry asking I not do so. This was just fine. At one point, I asked about the English Laurel and with agreement (they hated it as well), my sons went back there and cut it all down. 

As I had done for the entire time I’ve lived here, I continued to police the area next to the fence to keep the weeds from coming through. That appeared to be just fine until this fall when my granddaughter came over to cut and rake back the weeds from the fence. There was some yelling back and forth which I couldn’t hear because I wasn’t wearing my hearing aids. My granddaughter told me the woman was going to text me. I put my hearing aids in and my phone in my pocket.

No text came and all was quiet until my granddaughter yelled for me to come behind the fence. There stood a Lake Forest Park Policeman. I was trespassing and it didn’t matter that I’d done this for fifty-five years. It’s not my property. He hoped we could settle it amiably with us going back through the gate and remaining on my side of the fence. When the weeds grow through, then I can cut them back…great, just great.

My final annoyance has to do with the motion sensor light across the street. Once before, over a year ago, I asked if the light could be repositioned so it does not shine into my bedroom and into my eyes. Supposedly, it was moved; however, now that the trees are losing their leaves, the light shines right into my bedroom. 

This time I sent an email asking to have the light readjusted. It comes on when cars drive up and down the street, the neighborhood cats walk through the yard or the wind blows hard. I received an email back claiming I’d asked to have this done more than once (not so) and that they thought it had been fixed since I hadn’t brought it up (leaves on the trees blocked the light). My request for a readjustment was denied (a safety issue) and I could choose between having it on all the time or having it remain as is. Well, I certainly don’t want it to be on permanently.

So, the light remains as it was; however, I took care of the problem myself. I taped a large piece of aluminum foil over the part of the window through which the light shines. It no longer shines directly into my eyes. And, yes, I could pull the shade closed and eliminate it altogether, but it’s not a choice that would work either. I sleep with my window open 365 days a year and when the wind blows, it makes the shade move and make noise which wakes me up. My problem, right…right.

The remainder of my neighbors are just fine. We chat, wave from our cars, visit each other now and then. Still, I wish the neighbors that originally occupied these three houses were still here. But, as people keep telling me, life moves on, things change, and I just need to adjust.  So, okay, by writing this, I’ve decided I’m adjusted!!!