DARK DAYS AND HOLIDAYS

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FIRST ANNOYANCE OF THE DAY

          

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

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

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

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

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

LOOKING BACK

           

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

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

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

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

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

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

FOURTEEN YEARS

         

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

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

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

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

WOE IS ME

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

          

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YAY MOI!!!

          

Well, since this has been a fairly shitty week, I thought I’d just have to give myself a huge pat on the back because I both NEED and DESERVE it.

          For some reason my I-pad decided to stop receiving emails the end of last November which wasn’t really a big deal. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I’m now being included in the monthly NWDA board meeting, all held via zoom. My desktop’s sound stopped working quite some time ago and I’ve never been able to find a fix. So, if I’m going to zoom, I need to have sound unless I can read lips…I cannot.

          When deciding on a remedy, I think I can also do zoom via my phone, but decided since I couldn’t come up with a solution to make email work on my I-pad, I’d make a visit to the Apple store. Almost immediately, a young man offered to assist me, but while he was working with me, he was also being asked to help elsewhere. We finally reached a point where I felt confident in my ability to complete the effort and sent him on his way. I’m sure he could have completed this exercise in half the time (or less) it took me to finally get the email pouring onto the I-pad. Yay for moi.

          Later that same day, I went to look at my email on my desktop, only to be told there was a send/error. Once again, I tried everything I could think of, but could only access my Outlook email if I signed into Xfinity or used my phone or I-pad. Since I type really fast on my keyboard, I NEED to be able to conduct email business at my desk.

          I was so frustrated. I attempted to find the solution Tuesday evening, all day Wednesday and most of the day today. Email on my phone would tell me I needed to “sign-in,” but for some dumb (sure it was smart when I decided to do it) reason, I have a process that requires two authentications and I’d lose the sign-in page while obtaining the authentication. I finally figured out how to do that without losing the sign-in page, but the email still didn’t work.

          Finally, this afternoon, I went online and asked my computer how I could access the SMTP…whatever that is. I followed the instructions provided and, voila, after restarting my computer, my email is up and working.

          So, YAY FOR MOI. You have no idea how badly I needed this positive experience today. 

NOTICE – CRIMINAL TRESPASS WARNING

 

          Last November I blogged about three of my neighbors. This blog will be devoted to just one of those neighbors, the one that called the police while my granddaughter was behind my fence raking weeds back from the fence. This neighbor’s “war” with me has now escalated.

          As I’ve been diligently weeding the back flowerbed that is adjacent the back fence, I’ve been having to pull morning glories and blackberries that are coming through the fence. If I’m not vigilant, the morning glories wind themselves around my plants, and it’s a bitch to get them off. They are also growing up through my flowerbed now. Since they grow so fast, I’m sure that just a few months of being ignored, would allow them to completely claim that back flowerbed and strangle all the good plants there.

          So, thinking that if I texted a very polite request to have my granddaughter come and pull the weeds back from the fence, I would get a positive response, I did so. The neighbor’s response was, “NO”. So, I texted again, saying I didn’t understand why this couldn’t be allowed and asked why this person couldn’t be a good neighbor. No response for a couple of days.

          Then, yesterday, there was a knock on my front door. There stood another Lake Forest Park policeman…perhaps the very one who warned me last fall. According to what he had to say, I had once again trespassed on this neighbor’s property. I told him I had not and offered to show him my back gate and the texts I’d sent. He responded she had shown him the texts. He went on to say he was there to provide me with an, “NOTICE – CRIMINAL TRESPASS WARNING.”

          I was SHOCKED!!! Seriously SHOCKED!!!

          The officer went on to review the contents of the warning document, asked for proof of who I was (I recited my driver’s license number which I know by heart.) and had me sign the warning. It is good for three years and he gave me a copy.

          When I read the document later, it says, “Entering or remaining on said premises after this warning has been duly issued, shall be considered a knowing violation of…and as such, you shall be subject to legal action including ARREST and/or the filing of criminal charges.”

          I am shocked and angered by this neighbor’s actions, and all over the weeds that grow unchecked behind the fence. It also leaves me in a quandary about replacing the fence which will soon be needed. Is it possible to replace the fence without going on her property…I guess the contractor will have to answer that question. And, if it’s even possible, I guess I’ll assume the entire replacement cost.

          Seriously, what has happened to the sense of community, the willingness to be helpful, one neighbor to another, the possibility of discussion about something that negatively affects one neighbor and not another??? I don’t have an answer and guess I’ll just have to view this as another indication of the poisonous venom that’s permeating our society…additional proof of the “trickle down” theory.

          In writing this, I’ve gone from being hugely angry to being simply very sad. Perhaps it’s a good thing I’m as old as I am because it means I won’t have to endure many more of these “trickle down” societal elements. Seems like life and people used to be so much kinder, or am I just wearing rose-colored glasses?

SHOWER TIME FOR KUMA

 

Today I gave Kuma a shower and now I know why they charge so much for his grooming appointment. It was not a pleasant experience, although he smells much better now than he did before we showered.

And, when I say “we” showered, I mean, we showered. It took two tries to get him into the shower. He didn’t want to go and there was a whole bunch of water on the floor and me by the time I got him in the shower. It was a good thing I’d stripped down to my panties before we began this exercise because my nightie, or any other clothing, would have been as damp as my underwear.

Kuma seemed rather resigned to his shower once he was in there. He didn’t try to climb back out and allowed me to spray him with very warm water. He also allowed me to add puppy shampoo (it doesn’t sting the eyes) after I turned the water off and scrub him all over his entire body. Kuma also stood completely still as I turned the water back on and began to rinse all the shampoo off his body. You have no idea how grateful I was for his cooperation.

Once the soap was completely rinsed off, I shut the shower door and waited for him to shake. He’d already shaken once, even before I got the shampoo on him, but he refused to shake even though I waited several minutes. I opened the shower door and allowed him to climb out, quickly putting a big towel over him. Then, he shook, and shook again, and shook again, and shook again, even when the towel fell off. I’m sure if I look closely, I’ll find water droplets that have dried on the walls, tub and toilet. I’m not looking closely today, maybe tomorrow.

I used my hair dryer to attempt to dry his fur somewhat. He didn’t like that either and kept moving around the bathroom, which was actually fine because I could dry both sides and his back. He wasn’t completely dry when I finally gave in to his very loud barks and movements of irritation and turned the hair dryer off.

Then, I put another towel on the couch, so he could be in that place and allow his fur to dry. Of course, he didn’t want to be there, he wanted to be alongside me on the other couch. It took some loud commands to get Kuma to stay on the other couch even though he wasn’t exactly on the towel I placed there. 

Now, several hours later, he’s all dry and fluffy and smells much better than he did when we went to bed last night. However, after this experience, I understand why Hippie Hounds charges so much to groom him. It must take at least four people and who knows how much effort to get him bathed, dried, brushed and his toenails clipped. I didn’t clip his toenails or brush him and barely got him bathed and dried. I don’t know about Kuma, but his mommy is totally exhausted.

THE BILLS ARE PAID...FOR NOW

 

Well, I just finished paying the bills for April, including the property tax bill. There’s a part of me that feels good because the funds were there, and while they are now more or less nonexistent, at least the bills are all paid in full. But there’s another part of me that would like to see a high remaining balance, or at least way more than what’s in there now. 

Somehow, I always thought I would reach a point in my life where I wouldn’t need to worry or be concerned about having enough money to do whatever I want to do. Soon to begin my eighth decade, I’m pretty sure I’ll never reach a point where I can simply purchase whatever I want without having to consider just how I’ll pay for whatever that acquisition might be.

Once my grandmother moved to California when I was twelve years old, my mother began confiding in me rather than my dad her concerns about the family’s financial status. So, I began worrying at an early age about how the bills would get paid, how to rob Peter to pay Paul and vice-versa. I assumed somehow that once I was all grown up and responsible for just myself (or my family), those worries would no longer be present because I’d be in control.

Well, you know what they say about early programming…it sticks. So, throughout my entire life, regardless of the debits and credits in my financial life, I’ve continued to fret about having enough money to pay the bills, and never mind  having enough left over to do with as I choose. Even right now, with the bills paid and a small balance, I’ll move on to worry about future months and whatever expenses I incur. 

Provided nothing absolutely insane is activated by that asshole in DC, I’m pretty sure I have more than enough money to get me through the remainder of my life. There might even be a few dollars left for the kids and grandkids to share amongst themselves. So, why am I devoting even a moment (let alone this blog post) to thinking about having enough money? 

I would guess it was that early programming; and even were I to win a huge lottery (fat chance since I don’t purchase tickets), I’d still undoubtedly spend time and energy worrying about my potential for lack of funds. But for now, I can put aside that concern…at least for April.

POOR PITIFUL MOI

Please pardon me while I have a huge pity party. I have a wide variety of reasons as to why I’m feeling so down and depressed. My usual way of getting out of this pitiful valley of sorriness is to CHOOSE to not feel this way; however, there are times when the CHOOSE button seems to be frozen and doesn’t allow me to make a choice that would make me feel better. 

Only those of you who live alone will probably understand where I am right now. The house gets lonely, and while I have family and friends, it’s not like they are involved in my life on a daily basis. I deeply envy the friends I know who do have family and friends who do inhabit their lives daily. 

I’m convinced there has always been and will always be something seriously wrong with me. If that weren’t the case, then why am I feeling like this? Why isn’t my life full of family and friends who make more of an effort to be a bigger part of my life. And, okay, you’re thinking I could reach out to those folks, but I don’t feel as though I can. They have lives with their own families, jobs and interests. I’m simply not high on their important list and I don’t feel comfortable in trying to get myself placed higher on that list.

While in this valley of sorriness, I’ve been asking myself these questions:

1. When was the last time a family member invited me to have lunch or dinner, or participate in some activity? There hasn’t been an invitation that isn’t holiday- or birthday-oriented in years. True, when I ask for assistance (which I try not to do), family members respond affirmatively.

2. When was the last time a friend invited me to their home for lunch or dinner or to join them in some activity? And, okay, I do have two friends who are single like me. They do issue invitations which I accept and I issue invitations in return. I also have another friend who makes a weekly visit and does invite me to go out to lunch or dinner, but the other six days she is busy with her family and life. 

         Hopefully, residing in this valley of sorriness won’t last too long. It usually doesn’t, but let me tell you that being here sucks big time. There are so many days and hours wherein I see or speak to no one but Kuma. I guess over time this loneliness builds up until I sink down into the valley. 

        Now, having thought about and written this, I’m hoping that I can climb back out into the world, look around, count my blessings (because I do have blessings) and be grateful for them. 

DECISIONS ARE AND HAVE ALWAYS BEEN UP TO ME

 

        Finally, after umpteen trips to the tire store to have my tires checked and reinflated, the young man who helped me this morning told me the right front tire has a nail in it. This tire was the reason my tire warning light kept coming on about every two weeks. The other three tires rarely needed to have air added, but the right front would be down by about ten pounds every time I made the trip.

This ongoing problem and the eventual solution (I have an appointment for Friday to have the nail removed.) took far too long. It made me wish I had a partner in my life who would attend to things like this. On the other hand, John never took care of my vehicle. He believed, and rightly so, that it was my responsibility to make sure my car was in good working order. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t check something if I asked, but if there was a problem, the solution to it was in my court.

This also brought to the forefront my need to get bids to have my fence either repaired or replaced. Things like this were always taken care of by John…after all, he was a handyman. Now, it’s up to me to get the bids and figure out how to proceed. I’ve been putting off calling the men who would come and give me bids for two reasons, i.e., I don’t want the responsibility and I don’t want to spend the money.

John never assumed any responsibility he believed was mine, and I was always so independent I never “leaned” on him for the solution to whatever problem I was experiencing. True, he would play devil’s advocate, but the eventual decision was up to me. I did and didn’t like that aspect of our partnership.

I was raised to be independent during a time when men were expected to take care of their women. Now, that’s not how it was in my family, but all the media devoted to young women growing up portrayed that ideal. Grown and married, I actually expected my husband to take care of me. When our first child arrived, that meant my working days were over and we were both now his responsibility. That rose-colored dream didn’t last very long at all and I was soon back to work and more or less supporting myself and my child. 

Of course, there’s a part of me that is extremely proud of how I’ve managed my life…how can I not be. On the other hand, there’s a part of me that has always loved the idea I could curl up in my husband’s lap and relinquish any responsibility for any part of my life…a silly impossible idea/dream.

So, I just need to face the facts I’ve faced time and time again during my entire life. If something needs to be addressed or accomplished, there is absolutely no point, no matter how desirable, in waiting around for someone else to provide a solution. Like it or not it has been and will continue to be my responsibility…as if I actually ever had another choice. 

MAKING THE RIGHT CHOICE EVEN WHEN IT'S HARD

       Last November I turned seventy-nine. That means that this year I will be eighty. That fact and number seem to want to be at the forefront of my thoughts even though I don’t feel (most of the time) as though I’m going to be that fucking old. It’s those “most of the times” when I do feel so very old that are providing me with horrible thoughts about being so fucking old and so fucking near to death…as opposed to all the years before when death was in the far distant future.

Me, myself and I have conversations with each other about how we’re feeling, and yesterday and especially today, we’re not feeling the best. For some reason (I’m old???) during the night and waking up this morning, all my joints ached, not just ached, but hurt…a lot. Why, I have no idea, and even now, as I type this, my left wrist is not the least bit happy. 

What we are having a hard time understanding is how we can all go along and feel absolutely terrific and accomplish so many things on our “to-do” list without feeling the least bit tired or having a single ache or pain. Then, it’s like our good, healthy and active body hides in the closet and the body with all the aches, pains and unhappy thoughts jumps out from wherever it’s been hiding and takes control. 

We have no understanding of why this happens. How can we go to bed, have a great sleep and wake up feeling as though a giant has slept with us, hammering on each and every square inch of our body while we were unconscious is a mystery? What about those other days when we get up, raring to go and accomplish every single thing on our list to end the day feeling great and accomplished. 

Those of you who have followed me on my blog, or know me personally, know I am a great proponent of “I choose.” That is, I believe it’s up to me to “choose” how I’m feeling. If I want to feel great, then I have to “choose” to feel that way. If I want to accomplish a task or tasks, then it’s up to me to “choose” to get them done. This process seems to work for me most of the time, but on days like today when I feel tired and my body is so painful, it’s really hard to “choose” to do anything besides go back to bed. 

Seriously, it’s the fault of me and myself for not making the right choice…of that I’m totally convinced. So, once I finish this blog post, I am going to ignore me and myself and “choose” to kick my ass into gear and accomplish something, anything, that doesn’t include returning to bed for the day. Once dressed, Kuma is in serious need of a bally-ball session and I stated in my driftwood class that I was going to have my Captured Serpentine finished by next Tuesday. Plus, there’s that dish I want to make for dinner. So, aches, pains, doubtful thoughts can just go away because I’m CHOOSING to ignore them and get busy. 

I JUST DON'T GET IT.

 

      I’m sorry and perhaps I’m either too old or too stupid to understand what the hell is going on in the world. I try not to read or listen to the news, but it seems that the world is going to hell in a handbasket…a handbasket held by the man who is our president and who is supposed to look out for all Americans. That’s apparently not the truth.

Just now, I looked at my 401K and realized that I’d lost over two thousand dollars because of the tariffs our “supreme leader” has decided to charge our closest allies, Canada and Mexico. What’s with that? How can he promise to give the American people a great life and institute such tariffs which will only result in my (our) having to pay more at the grocery store, gas station or any other place where I (we) might spend money.

I realize I don’t have a Ph.D. and am not one of the best financial minds in the world, but just how does this idiot think what he’s doing is going to benefit the majority of Americans. The only result I can come to is that he doesn’t give a shit about the average American. He doesn’t care if people go hungry, lose their homes, or find it difficult to manage to live a reasonable life in this country. What is the matter with that man???

And, okay, I can see that the entire government might be just a bit humungous, but I’m not the government. I’m simply a senior citizen who has paid her dues over more than fifty years of her life. Now, as a retired person, I should be able to go to the grocery store or the gas station or even a travel agency and make purchases or plans that will enrich my life. That was what I was promised all those decades ago when I signed up to pay into social security. Still, no matter how overgrown the government may be, it should not affect my social security or the money that enters my account each month.

Whatever is going on in the world, I should still be able to buy what I need in order to survive a normal day, be it oats, power, gas or whatever. Again, what’s wrong with this stupid man that he thinks whatever he believes should be done, whatever he goes ahead and makes happen should have a negative impact on my life…or the lives of my children and grandchildren. 

I’m not a Rhodes Scholar, nor do I have a Ph.D. or even a degree from a four-year university, but I do believe I’m smart enough to understand what this idiot president (not the lower-case p) is in the process of doing. As I see it, he wants to be the dictator (again, lower case) of the entire world. Either that, or he wants to suck the teat of putin (again, lower case) while putting more money in his or other folks (folks who don’t give a rat’s ass about you and me) pockets. 

How did we get here? I simply don’t understand how this man (although a poor excuse he is for one) could hold such an important office and be able/capable of totally fucking over so many of us. I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand, no matter how I look at the entire picture. I also don’t know if there’s an answer that isn’t provided by not one, but two bullets…one each for the p and vp. 

It’s sad, very sad, and I have to admit, I’m sorry I’ve lived long enough to see what was once a great country come to such an ignominious end.

TIME TO GET GARDENING!!!

 

      I want the sun to return. And, okay, I know it comes back every single day beginning with the sunrise. What I’m talking about is having the sun in the sky without any clouds to obscure its shine and heat. I absolutely loved those days last week when it was warm enough to go without a coat and it felt and smelled like spring.

Part of the reason I want the sun to return is that I’m itching to get outside and do more in the garden. I did a lot last week, i.e., raked up all the leaves, had Haley empty all my flowerpots into the garden and raked the dirt in, lined up the pots in the driveway so the rain (again, okay, I needed the rain we’ve had) could wash them fairly clean before I spray them with vinegar to kill off any potentially unwanted pests, and pretty much completely took care of one end of the yard. I was tired and sore, but it felt GREAT!!!

Another reason I want the warmth and sun is so I can continue my gardening. Every year I say I’m not going to grow tomatoes or anything else in the next year. Then, when spring is on the way, I get busy thinking about and planning what I’m going to grow for the upcoming season. I’ve tried using my age as an excuse to not do any of this, but somehow, I believe that as long as I’m able to do this, I should do it. 

I am afraid, however, that I’m letting the fact I’ll be eighty by the end of the year sort of blind me to my actual capabilities. At night in bed, it’s so easy to believe the pain I’m experiencing in various parts of my anatomy will keep me from accomplishing what I need/want to accomplish the following day. It also seems so easy to concentrate on the fact I’m OLD, rather than on the fact I’m still quite capable of achieving set goals. They say you’re only as old as you feel and I have to keep reminding myself of that.

Most of the time I don’t think about being as old as I am; and during the day when the majority of my aches and pains are far less noticeable, I do feel as though I’m quite capable of completing any task I set myself. All I need is to make a plan and follow it through to completion, and I do have a plan.

Tomorrow, Costco will begin selling bags of dirt for a lesser price. I’ve held off my C-shopping so I can go and get everything, including six to eight bags of dirt. True, the bags are heavy, but I’ve managed before, plus, I think it was last year, some nice man saw me moving those bags and offered his assistance…and, yes, I took it. I even had one of the C-men push my cart to my car and load the bags for me. So, if worse comes to worse, I can stand there and look OLD and FEEBLE until help is offered.

Facebook recently had a post by a Garden Lovers’ Club which was free to join…so I joined. Already I’ve found a couple of their articles extremely helpful and cannot wait to give a couple of them a try, especially the container planting. I’ve never been very successful with container planning of flowers, but watching that gardener illustrate and explain what he was doing…well, I think I can do that. 

Anyway, age aside, I’m excited for spring, for planting and growing, and watching my hard efforts come to eventual fruition. If all goes as I’m planning, I’ll be posting some photos and bragging about my success. All I need now is for the sun to return to a bright blue sky and bring some heat.

 

      My little whirlwind of entertaining was completed last night. Amazingly, I’m not exhausted and I believe both events went very well, even though I seemed to be horribly disorganized for the first one.

In any case, the baked potato soup, taco salad and German chocolate cake were a hit with all attendees on Saturday. There was one serving left of the soup for Thor to take home, no taco salad, and I sent home pieces of cake with two guests, most of the remainder home with Thor and saved a couple of pieces for both myself and a friend who likes German chocolate cake. I think everyone had a good time…and I know I definitely did. I’m also sure my home rejoiced in having so many voices and so much laughter in house.

Last night’s dinner with AJ’s best friend from high school and AJ and his family also was a great success. I made spicy chicken and was worried for a bit because my BBQ ran out of juice. But I simply brought the chicken kebabs back inside and cooked them in my Ninja grill…they turned out just fine. Again, having folks around the table and being highly amused by AJ and Andy reminiscing about their school days and beyond was wonderful. I learned things I didn’t know that Andy and AJ had done back in the day…and am grateful I didn’t know them back then or I’d be totally white-headed. 

Now my calendar will revert to the usual, i.e., exercise classes, visitation with a good friend most Wednesdays and Fridays with an occasional lunch or dinner thrown in. That’s perfectly okay and who knows but the success of these two events and having a squeaky-clean house just may end up being a new normal for me. Time will tell, although spring is on its way and the garden will be calling my name on a fairly regular basis. Still, the memories from these two events will provide encouragement for future ones…maybe on the deck or in the garden.