YARROW, DOG HAIR AND NEIGHBORS

          Yarrow is a wonderful plant. I believe I had some yellow yarrow once upon a time, but what inhabits my yard now is this wonderful almost neon pink. It does have a tendency to lay over, but I have a grid with legs that I put in place and that seems to keep it upright. I actually needed to add another grid but never got around to it, so I’ll probably have some layovers unless the cosmos grows enough to hold it up.

          Right now, on Saturday morning, I’m taking a break from trying to get the dog hair out of the couch cushions. I use a cover that’s supposed to keep the hair off the cushions, but apparently, it’s not working very well. It’s that or I need to take the cover off and wash it more often than I have been. I’m using my vacuum hose with a brush attachment, but neither one seems to work very well.

          That’s why I’m at the computer. I decided I’d go online and see if anyone out there had a solution for my problem. The dog hairs look perfectly straight, but I swear they have a little hook at one end that refuses to give up its grip on the woven fabric. I also wish I’d thought of that when I ordered new cushions a couple of years ago. Do not get a couch or cushions with woven fabric if you have a dog…the dog hairs will get into the weave and do not want to come out.

          I’ve used one suggestion which is those lint rollers, but again, there are dog hairs that have a far stronger attraction for the weave than the sticky stuff…can you imagine that??? Another suggestion was to use a rubber glove and move your hand over the cushion. So, I’m off to give that a try. I do have rubber gloves since I wear them for almost everything…just never thought I’d use them dry on my couch.  

          Well, it works, sorta. If I keep the vacuum in one hand and use the other gloved hand, the hairs do come out better than any other method I’ve found. I still believe, however, that some of Karma’s hairs have little barbs on the end because judging by the color, they are hers. Unfortunately, it’s hard work and I had to stop with one cushion to go because my hands were sweaty inside the gloves and the rest of me was sweaty too. I think this method worked really well for the woman who posted the idea because she has Labs and their hair is longer…and I thought that black lab hair was so bad all the years we had them.

Jack Edgar, 1963

Reva Edgar, 1963

          While I was waiting for the couch cover to finish drying, I opened the little box of photos for the period 1945-1963 and found a photo of the man who was like a grandfather to me. Jack and his wife Reva lived next door to my family in Fremont. Reva’s sister Ruby lived with them as well. They all took an interest in the neighborhood kids and owned a little café that was around the corner and down the block. It was always fun to hang out on their front porch because their interest was genuine…a kid can always tell.

          One of the specialties of their café were these cinnamon rolls Ruby made. She used potato water from all the potatoes they cooked and when the rolls were done, they were about three inches tall and were very caramelly. Later on when I moved into my apartment, I would go by there every morning as I walked to my job which was just across the street from their cafe and get a cinnamon roll. Ruby gave me the recipe, but I never had a pan large enough and the only time I tried to make them, I ended up with about 100 smaller ones that weren’t the same at all.

When I turned 16, I wanted to learn to drive so badly, and Jack became my first instructor. He owned a Pontiac Bonneville which was a huge boat of a car. I felt very small, but also very brave driving it around with Jack in the shotgun seat. He never lost his temper or appeared nervous with me behind the wheel and I believe that helped a lot when it came to learning.

          When I graduated from high school, their gift to me was a Samsonite suitcase because I was going to become an airline stewardess when I turned 21. Even though that didn’t happen because I married John when I was 20, they remained in touch over the years.

          At one point, they sold the house next door as well as their little café and purchased a duplex in Ballard just off Eighth Avenue. Jack had had a stroke and about the only thing that was affected was his speech. He could still talk, but this wonderful man who spoke perfect English was reduced to spitting out swear words the majority of the time. Until then, I’d never heard him swear at all. It was so frustrating for him and for those of us who loved him.

          After he died, I remained in touch with Reva and Ruby and assisted them however I was able. I remember them coming to dinner at the little house I rented when John and I were separated. Reva was wearing a wonderful fur coat, so soft and elegant. The following Christmas she gifted it to me. I wore it for many years when it became very cold; and did you know the colder it becomes, the less heavy a fur coat is? It still hangs in my closet a bit worse for wear, but I always think if Reva and Jack when I see it there. 

R-L, Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring

          Ruby was an artist and made paintings using dyed egg shells. I purchased the Four Seasons from her at some point in time and it’s hung over my fireplace for the last 45-50 years. It was amazing what this woman could do with a piece of plywood, crushed egg shells and food coloring. She would draw the design on the plywood and then painstakingly glue the colored eggshells in place with tweezers and toothpicks. I also have two still lifes I inherited when Reva passed on and wish I’d bought the one she did of banyan trees with sun shining through the leaves. 

          One morning when AJ was about five, I got a phone call from Ruby.  Reva had died in her sleep and could I come. John and I got a babysitter for AJ (my parents I think) and went to Ballard. The mortuary hadn’t come for Reva yet and she was laying on her side in bed as though peacefully asleep. I was sad to have her leave us and decided I would help Ruby however I could.

          One thing John and I did not know was that Ruby had a serious drinking problem. Perhaps Jack and Reva kept her sober most of the time, plus when we did find out, it was clear she was very good at hiding the problem. Reva was taken away and almost immediately, Ruby began telling John and I to pack up every single thing in that side of the duplex and take it to Goodwill. We did our best to convince her to wait a while, but she was very insistent about needing to rent that side of the duplex as soon as possible. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in her life we could consult or talk to, so we returned for several days in a row to pack up Reva’s life.

          Reva had some wonderful things that still adorn my house. Each time I found something I thought was worth money or worth Ruby keeping, I’d seek her out and ask her about that item. Nope, was always her response…I want it all gone. This even included Reva’s wedding ring which I still have. Besides the furniture, the only stuff Reva kept were cleaning supplies, toilet paper and paper towels. All the rest was boxed up and lugged to our home.

          John’s mother took the majority of Reva’s clothing to disperse to other older women who were in need. She also took a lot of the kitchen pots and pans and other items for the same purpose. Reva had a lot of costume jewelry which I gave to John’s niece. I now wish I hadn’t been so quick to give it up because I’m now sure there was much of value there, but what did I know at the age of 30. The remainder of Reva’s household went into one of the two or three garage sales I held in the time I’ve lived here.

          It was probably the last day we were there or shortly after when we went to check on Ruby that these two women showed up. I now believe they were a couple, but in 1975, being gay wasn’t something you advertised. It was from them we learned about Ruby’s drinking problem. We were shocked and astonished and offered to return everything we’d boxed up and still had. They told us to not worry about that and proceeded to do what they could to stop Ruby’s drinking.

I tried to stay in touch with Ruby and those two women, but the three of them effectively shut me out. I would call and get no answer (no answering machines then). I’d go by and no one would come to the door. I’d leave notes and receive no response. Finally, I stopped and hoped Ruby would get in touch at some point. She never did. I don’t know what happened to her or those other two women.

I am thankful for the memories of have of Jack, Reva and Ruby. They added a lot to both my child and young adulthood. I treasure the three eggshell mosaics Ruby made as well as Reva’s fur coat, wedding ring and a couple of other decorations that still remind me of all three. I did get to tell Jack I loved him, but Reva went so unexpectedly, that didn’t happen. And, as for Ruby, I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye.

ASTILBE AND MY COMPUTER

          Have you ever heard of Giant Astilbe? I hadn’t either until I bought some years and years ago. I planted it in two different places and it seems to be another of those plants that likes to travel. I managed to remove most of it from the one flowerbed, although when I was working there this week, I found a couple of small growths…they were surgical removed.

The Astilbe has gone from one small plant to probably one-fifth of the back flowerbed. Just this spring, I pulled several of the invaders out so the dahlias and hydrangea would have room to grow and bloom. By the looks of what’s there now, I’m going to have to do some further removal in the fall. If anyone would like a start…you’d only need one, believe me, I’d be happy to provide.

Moving on, I am so annoyed, but I’d best just get over it. Microsoft has been bugging me for days or weeks about downloading the program adjustments for Windows 10. Finally, my computer decided to be difficult and needed to be restarted. Rather than just restarting, I chose the “Restart and Update” button, and boy was that a mistake. An hour or more later, my computer had restarted and it updated, including the updates for Windows 10.

          To tell the honest to God truth, I don’t want to learn a new program or a new way of doing things. I just want my computer to stay the same so I can do what I always do without having to learn a new system or a new way to traverse from one application to another. Well, guess what??? Apparently, I do not have a choice with regard to learning how to navigate and use the programs on my computer. And, here I thought it would be absolutely wonderful to invest in a new Microsoft Surface...they look so very cool...but I just might not be up to the challenge.

          Anyway, the big “e” is no longer a choice. Instead I have a green/blue swirl which leads me to the internet and Microsoft Edge. Once there, when I choose the star in the upper right corner, I get a few choices followed by “Other Favorites” which is where the majority of the links I use reside. Then, instead of those favorites showing up at the right of my screen, they show up in the middle. There’s a down arrow that will allow you to move down your list, but the list flies by, so you have to be careful in order to find what you’re looking for. Sheesh!!!!

          If that isn’t enough, this morning I wanted to look at an article in The Seattle Times. MS Edge took me there and then quit responding when I was almost done reading. I could ask to have it fixed or just close. First I tried fix, but nothing seemed to be happening, so I just closed and left. The next time I went to MS Edge, it told me it hadn’t been closed properly and did I…so I used the “x” in that box to make it go away.

          And, OKAY, it’s good for us older and wiser individuals to try to use our brains, especially when it comes to learning new data. Supposedly that prevents atrophy and a loss of wisdom. I’ve come to the conclusion in the few days I’ve been “updated” that the prevention happens because my brain was suddenly and completely engaged. I’ve remembered all the swear words I’ve ever heard/learned. My imagination has run wild with ideas and ways about what I’d do to whoever came up with the “updates.” I’ve made serious plans on how I could initiate and complete those plans. And, finally, I’m paying attention so my brain can relearn all the data it had already acquired when Windows 10 first went on my computer.

          The one thing I haven’t mentioned is the fact the updates also managed to eliminate some of my passwords. Not to anything important, but to little things like the Next Door site or the Buy Nothing site. When I first wanted to return to one those sites, I had to try to remember my log-in information. Now, if that isn’t just the most fun time ever, I don’t know what is. It wouldn’t be so difficult if I allowed my computer to “save” my passwords, but I don’t like doing that. At least I seem to have utilized a method to passwords that works well, but doesn’t use the same password every single time. Still, there’s always that one password that doesn’t allow me to use the criteria, so I’m stuck trying to remember exactly what was different about that password.

          Okay, enough whining about my computer difficulties. The other night as I was going to sleep, I thought of something I could blog about that would be funny and interesting. Unfortunately, I didn’t sit up and write it down, nor did I make a mental note, because I haven’t been able to remember exactly what that blog idea was. I’m sure it’s only because of all the new computer stuff I’ve had to concentrate on the last couple of days. Just as soon as my brain gives a huge gasp and kinda melts back into my skull, the idea will pop up. I don’t know about you, but I simply cannot wait…it’s driving me nuts; even more nuts than the “updates.”

HOSTAS AND A SAD EMAIL

If only the Hosta plant had much nicer blossoms. They are a pretty lavender, at least the ones I have are, but they are really not much to look at. The stalk is tall and I discovered if you don’t make sure to water well, the stalks will lean way down. I thought they were seeking the sunshine, but I gave them a really good drink and while they didn’t stand all the way up, they did straighten up quite a bit.

There’s always a point during the summer when I’m ready to put the garden to bed for the winter. I’m not quite there yet, but I did clean out that one flowerbed and today I began to yank out the alstroemeria. Short of pouring Roundup on top of the growing spots, which I won’t do, I think the only way to keep this plant controlled is to yank up every single stalk as soon as it appears above ground. Now, the question is, will I be faithful and do that so as to eliminate this plant. I wouldn’t mind if it stayed in the one space, but it wants to travel far and wide.

In today’s email there was a message from the man who was John’s best man at our wedding. He and his wife at the time were our best friends for about five or six years. Then, John and I separated and Mike left his wife with three small children, two adopted, for another woman who was apparently carrying his child. We, of course, weren’t supposed to know that, but we did.

John and I got back together and saw a marriage counselor and managed to stay married for the remainder of John’s life. Once Mike was divorced, he married the other woman and moved to the other side of the sound. We only saw him now and then, mainly when he came to town to see his folks. I think I may have met his second wife just a time or three. They did stay married and all the kids, his and hers and theirs have all grown up and made them grandparents, and maybe even great grandparents.

Mike did come to John’s retirement/birthday party and had lots of funny stories to share which we all enjoyed tremendously. He also came to John’s celebration and I believe he had prepared something for when we asked people to share. But we didn’t have a true memorial where people talked and everyone listened. Instead, we told stories in a more personal one-to-one manner.

The purpose of Mike’s email today was supposedly to find out how I was doing; however, however, the real purpose was to tell me his first wife, Patty Lou, had passed away and had dementia toward the end. This made me very sad…not that Mike reached out seven months after sending me a Christmas card, but that Patty Lou had died. I absolutely loved that woman and was so sad when she and Mike split and they both pretty much went their own ways.

Patty Lou was the kind of woman who always, always made you laugh. She was so much fun to be around and I always looked forward to going to their house to play cards or games or just visit. Patty Lou raised her three children, and as far as I know did a great job. We lost touch and I’m not really sure exactly why. She never remarried and if she had any kind of a relationship with another man, I never heard about it.

We sure had some good times way back then though. John and I hadn’t been dating too terribly long when they invited us to dinner. Patty Lou couldn’t make gravy, so I did. It was HORRIBLE, but John ate it on his potatoes as thought it was some gourmet food…true love at last.

I remember going to the Ellensberg Rodeo. We hadn’t made reservations anywhere and ended up staying in some kind of hotel that had actually been an office building. They’d just installed a sink in the room and beds...we're probably luck bedbugs weren't inhabiting the place The bathroom was down the hall. We went to bed and to sleep and suddenly, there was all this yelling and fighting and carrying on in other rooms and in the hallway. We didn’t go out to see what was going on. We just stayed in our room and made a lot of noise when we left in the morning.

At the rodeo, we were walking all over the place and Patty Lou and I found this horse that had this huge thing hanging down. We thought perhaps it was a penis, but being city-girls we weren’t sure, plus there were other horses that didn’t have any. We backtracked and found Mike and John and urged them to come see what we’d discovered. Yes, it was a penis and the guys howled when we asked why the other horses didn’t have one. Turns out they were mares…sill city girls.

They had their son before John and I married. I remember babysitting him when he wasn’t very old so they could have a date night. The baby got up and I went about changing him. Since he couldn’t move around, I left him on the changing table while I went and got a warm washcloth. When I returned, there was water all over the place, including his face. I couldn’t figure out where it came from because there wasn’t a leak in the ceiling or anything. Patty Lou laughed so hard when I told her about it and explained that the baby had peed while I was gone.

After we married, they had a little girl who didn’t survive for very long. I never knew if the doctor said no more babies, but they decided to adopt and got a little girl and then a little boy. I think the little boy was adopted the year before we had AJ. I remember them coming to the hospital to see AJ for the first time. AJ was under the bililights with his eyes covered and nothing else. Patty Lou whispered to me that my little boy certainly had a big “Johnson.”

In the time we were best friends, we had lots of dinners, played cards and games, parties, roofed their house, went fishing, played terrible tricks on Mike and thoroughly enjoyed their company. I could probably sit here and type for an hour or more and barely touch on all the good times we had, whether it was at their house, our Ballard rental, this house, a trip to Portland, or whatever.

The last time I talked to Patty Lou was probably a couple of years ago. Another friend who was in touch with her asked Patty Lou if I could have her phone number. She said yes and we had a wonderful time talking and laughing about years gone past and how we were doing right at that time. I always intended to call her again, but never did, and I’m sorry for that now. I don’t know if she knew John had died or if the dementia had developed to the point she wouldn’t have remembered who he was.

So, once again, another person who helped weave the tapestry of my life has moved on. I’m grateful for the memories and pictures and everything she brought to my life, for everything we shared in what now seems like such a brief time that we had together. I do so wish we’d both made more of an effort to extend the time and add to our memory banks. Meanwhile, I know John loved Patty Lou as well and I like to think of them laughing up a storm wherever they may be.

LILIES AND COVID-19

There are many different kinds of lilies in my garden. The only ones for which I know the name are the Stargazer, Alsteroameria, Tiger and the Day Lily. So, rather than do an orange lily one day, a red one the next and a yellow the day after, I decided I’d just include photos of all of them in one post. You'll find them at the end.

It saddens me that the majority of them have bloomed already. When I planted, I thought I read they’d bloom the end of July. It’s only the middle and they’re already done. I could understand that if we’d had some really hot weather, but it hasn’t been that hot and it’s rained a lot as well.

Tuesday was kind of a difficult day for me because I couldn’t seem to settle. I couldn’t find a project on which I wanted to work. I didn’t feel like looking at photos. I didn’t feel like writing. I looked at my “todo” list and didn’t want to do anything on that as well. I felt a bit like the horses in the “Heartland” program I’m watching on television. The upset horse runs round and round the corral and is told to “settle.” Well, there’s no one here to tell me to settle so I’m just kind of going in circles about the house. I pick up one thing and put it down; move to another and repeat.

It's now Wednesday and I haven’t accomplished much today either. I had a difficult time going to sleep Tuesday night, so I woke up late and couldn’t get my physical therapy done in time to walk, so I didn’t walk. I did drive out to AJ’s house to take Angie the Stargazer lily. I drove one-handed so I could hold the vase upright and not crush any of the flowers. So far, all the lilies that had opened were good, and if Angie changes the water every other day or so and cuts off a bit more stem, the last three should bloom and fill her house with their scent for a week or more.

We had a nice visit. It isn’t often I get to see just Angie. AJ and Haley are usually around as well, but today they were both at work. We didn’t have a lot to talk about that didn’t involve COVID-19 and how we’re dealing with it, have dealt with it and will continue to deal. Angie works for the Edmonds School District, and while there was a school board meeting via Zoom last night, there’s been no definite decisions made about holding class in the schools or online.

If I were a teacher, I certainly wouldn’t want to go back to school and teach, especially in elementary school. Those kids are germ factories and if one comes to school with a single germ, s/he shares it with the entire classroom and sooner or later, every single kid in the class is home because s/he is sick.

And, if I were a parent, I’m not sure I’d want my kids to go back to school either. So many times, a child doesn’t feel well and it’s not for days or weeks that testing shows that child has a serious disease like leukemia. If that child is in a classroom with other kids or teachers that have COVID-19, I think it would be entirely possible for that very ill child to not survive.

I guess I’m just grateful that I don’t have young children although I do worry about my young grandchildren. I’m also grateful I’m retired and can just shelter-in-place as long as necessary. The world has changed so much since the beginning of 2020 that it almost doesn’t seem real and yet it is…it’s very very real.

Wednesday morning’s news indicated there was a vaccine that showed great promise, but would still require more testing. I also read an article in Time Magazine last week about a pharmaceutical company. The name of that company was not retained by my brain, but the CEO said if the vaccine they were testing proves out, they’ll ramp up production so there will be a stock to get out to people even before the FDA gives it an okay. Asked what the company would do if they didn’t get approval, the CEO said they’d just have to eat the cost and dispose of the vaccine.

It sure would be great to end 2020 with a vaccine that would protect us all from COVID-19 in the same way polio and smallpox vaccine protected us from those diseases. I’m sure there are millions or billions of us who are lighting candles, rubbing Buddha’s belly, doing vaccine dances or simply praying that when the grim reaper gives way to the baby on December 31, 2020, we can begin 2021 vaccinated.

LAMBS' EARS, FOOD AND WINDOWS

Lambs’ Ears have the softest leaves. To me, though, they feel more like a rabbit’s fur. They are horribly invasive and if you don’t stay on top of them, they’ll quietly and secretively move into as much of your flowerbed as possible. They do that by sending out little shoots, kind of like a strawberry plant or by reseeding themselves. Every year, I think I ‘ve got them under control but somehow they manage to move out no matter what I do.

Another thing I like about this plant is the bees absolutely love them. Once they send up their flower stalks, the bees visit over and over and over, or at least it seems that way. Right now, between the Lambs’ Ears, lavender and the hosta flower stalks, you can barely walk down the little walkway in my garden. Just about the time the lavender pollen is gone, the sea holly will blossom and provide another bee treat.

Last night I used my biggest pan to make dinner for myself since John died. In the past, I’ve used it mainly for stir fry for the two of us; and that’s what I made last night. For once, I really paid attention to how much in the way of vegetables I prepared for the stir fry, not wanting to eat it for the next two days. Even then, I thought perhaps this pan would be too large for the amount I was cooking.

There was a small piece of meat in the freezer which had bacon wrapped around it. I’d purchased two of those on sale and didn’t like the bacon taste with the meat. I decided I’d cut the meat in half and then into smaller bites and include the bacon which the doggies would get.

I cut up about seven big garlic cloves and a piece of ginger about the size of a very small plum. John never liked the taste of ginger, so I was treating myself. I sautéed the garlic, ginger and green onion before adding the meat. Once it was ready, I added cut up broccoli, orange pepper, and snow peas with a dash of soy sauce. After a minute or so, I added mushrooms, bok choy and cherry tomatoes.

To me, it looked as though I had enough in there for dinner and lunch the next day. I ate a bowl full and it was so good, I went back and filled my bowl again with the remainder in the pan. It was probably the best stir fry I’ve ever made. Amazingly, the bacon flavor wasn’t too much and the poor doggies didn’t get a single bite of anything. I ate the entire thing and was amazed at myself. I suppose if I’d made some rice to go with it, I might have had some left for lunch the next day. Ah well, I’ll have to scrounge around for lunch makings at some point.

Tonight (Tuesday), even though the temperature is supposed to be up around 80, I’m going to turn my oven on and make pizza. I buy a frozen cheese pizza and add my own toppings. I’ll use mushrooms, onions, olives, tomatoes, some turkey pepperoni and then add a lot of extra cheese on top. Maybe I’ll even cut some basil to add to the top…had some Italian basil and Thai basil in my salad the other night…delicious!!! A small salad with the pizza and dinner will be done.

Sheesh, does it seem as though I’m really concentrating on food. Well, if it does, it’s probably because that’s about the only pleasure left in my life at this point in time. Can’t go to the mall and shop. Can’t go to the movies and eat yummy movie popcorn…Cinebarre had the best homemade with real butter. Can’t really do much of anything but read or watch television. I’m so glad I like to read…at least that way I do get to leave my house metaphorically and have adventures.

Friday lunches with one or two of my friends is pretty much the highlight of my week. We always get our orders to go and social distance on the deck, so we’re all pretty safe, or at least we think so. Some weeks, if I’m really lucky I get to have two lunches, but again with people I know who are careful and with whom I feel safe.

Just this morning I was lamenting to my walking partner Kathy about how I thought I would stop getting up at 6:50 am in order to watch the first 20 minutes of Good Morning America. This morning, there wasn’t one single uplifting or feel good thing to be seen in the crawl at the bottom of the screen. If that wasn’t enough, when it broke for hometown news, I heard about the killings in Kent and the gunfight in Bothell…which is just down the road…in which a policeman was killed and another injured. I think I’m going to stay in bed until 7:30 am and miss any news altogether.

Right now, I’m reading “His Dark Materials” trilogy by Phillip Pullman. Like his protagonist, Lyra Silvertongue, I’d like to find a window into another world and go there. Her Oxford world sounds delightful whether in her world or our own, but to be in the town by the sea with palm trees would be my first choice. I’d plant myself in the sand and just stay there. It sounds like eventually Lyra will end up in the far north with frozen glaciers and fog in order to find another window to another world. Too bad such things only exist in fiction…today, I think I’d jump through, no matter what was on the other side.

NO IDEA AND MY WORLD'S CHANGED A LOT

I have absolutely no idea of the name of this plant. Not only that, but I cannot remember from where it came, so I can’t even return to the source and inquire. Anyway, it’s the plant in which some animal decided to take a nap. I have about six inches of topsoil and then it becomes hardpan. No matter how hard I pound on a stake, it will only go so far. The weight of the branches of this plant pull the stakes over when I try to put garden wire from one stake to another, so the plants just lean out over the sidewalk and lawn. Plus the little white blossoms fall off and the dogs (and moi) carry them back into the house.

Yesterday I decided I was extremely annoyed by this plant and resolved to just yank it all out of its flowerbed. I knew I had planted dahlias in that flowerbed and amazingly, all three had returned...I just couldn't see them because they were buried. Thanks to this plant’s elimination, the dahlias can now grow and my yard waste bin was full to the brim. There are still roots in the flowerbed, so I’m sure it will return before fall or for sure next year. I’ll just try to do a better containment job then.

Today, Monday, I had to make a trip to Ballard. Decades ago, I rode my bike from Fremont through Ballard to Golden Gardens. Then, after John and I married, we lived in northwest Ballard for a few years before we bought this house. I drove through Ballard and Fremont to get to my job at the University of Washington. Later on, when I went to work at the zoo, both Fremont and Ballard were easy lunch access points, and I became quite familiar with the areas. That also included Greenwood.

I’ve now been retired nine years and must say my world has become ever so much smaller with retirement, especially when the folks I knew at the zoo either retired as well or left for another job elsewhere. Before John died, I got out far more often and went more places, mainly to get him to his doctors’ appointments. Now, the pandemic has even further decreased my range of travel. It’s amazing that I didn’t have an accident, as in rear-ending someone, because of all the changes that have taken place since my retirement, John’s death and the pandemic.

I took the freeway from 205^th to 145^th and was astonished at how much work has been accomplished on the light rail construction. Off the freeway, my eyes continued to widen at the number of places that had been removed for new construction of what are most likely condos or apartment buildings to serve the people who will move there for easy access to the light rail.

Because of traffic, I kinda decided to take a more back way to get into downtown Ballard. Again, there were places I recognized and others that had changed so much I didn’t remember them being there even though the construction looked old. In downtown Ballard, there are new apartment or condo buildings all over the place. One entire corner is empty, but I’m sure they’ll be building something there in no time.

On my way home I took Market Street, and again, so many new buildings have replaced what was there not even ten years ago. And the trees. The trees were planted long ago, but they have become huge and for entire sections of the street, you are driving in a tree tunnel. It was kinda comforting to see what I think was the very first Seattle McDonalds is still in the same place and still in business.

Talk about feeling as though I’m out of the loop. I almost felt as though I had left the familiar for the unknown, or entered an adjacent world that was sort of like mine, but not. If this pandemic continues into 2021, which appears as though it will be the case, it seems to be entirely possible there will be complete areas that I won’t recognize.

When we all had to shelter in place, I only went to the grocery store, wearing a mask and using hand sanitizer very very often. I don’t think we necessarily have to shelter in place now, so that means I can leave the house, get in my car and drive wherever I would like. Maybe that’s what I need to do one day a week? Just get in the car and pick an area I’d like to visit once again. The only problem with that is twofold. First, it’s hard to get up the energy to just go drive myself around. Secondly, how much fun would it be with just me, myself and I? True, we’re all great company, but me and myself don’t always talk to I.

While I’m grateful John isn’t alive to experience this pandemic and die as a result, it would be nice to have him here to share in those rides all about the area. I remember back in the old days, i.e., the ‘60’s and ‘70s when we’d take Sunday…or even Saturday…drives all over the northwest. Now that there’s not a lot of traffic out there and the weather is cooperating, it would be ever so much fun to hop in the car and go exploring like we used to do all those decades ago. And yes, I could. And, yes, maybe I will give it a try one of these days.

STARGAZERS AND ITCHING

          There are a lot of different kinds of lilies in my garden, both along the front drive and in the back surrounding the deck. The majority of them are just about finished. In fact, there are only two remining in the front. There are a few more left in back, but the Stargazer is just coming into its own. This one stalk has nine blossoms and as soon as I’m sure the top ones will open, I’ll cut and take it to Angie. She loves these and carried them in her bridal bouquet. 

          While I couldn’t stand to pick and bring into my own house because the odor is overwhelming, they do make my entire deck smell lovely. Having enough room for the perfumey smell to spread out, I do like it then. I think I have a few more Stargazers to go, but they haven’t begun to open yet. I just thought that perhaps I should buy a few more bulbs and plant them in the front so the vague wonderful smell would come into my bedroom next summer.

          I have something going on that is driving me absolutely nuts…itching. I’ve always had dry skin and have always used lotion, at least since the winter I drew blood scratching my tummy. Lately, it seems like there isn’t a square inch of my body that doesn’t itch at some point or other. I use the lotion I’ve always used, and even tried a different one or none. I purchased new hypoallergenic laundry detergent and wool dryer balls in case I’ve developed a sensitivity to the ones I'd been using.

          I’ve also reviewed the various vitamins and supplements I take and eliminated ones that could possibly have begun to cause this reaction. I’m just about to the point where I’m ready to eliminate every single pill from my regimen except for the prescription ones which I do need to take each day. I guess I need to send another email to my doctor and tell her what I’ve done so far isn’t working to reduce the itch.

          Of course, I don’t have long acrylic fingernails anymore, but my short and sharp ones are perfect for scratching. Sometimes, scratching the itch is just short of orgasmic. Other times, it actually hurts and when I look in the mirror, there are definite red marks from scratching. I use an anti-itch cream on those, but just sitting here typing, I want to stop and use my fingers to scratch the back top of my shoulder.

          If that isn’t bad enough, apparently my 52-year immunity to mosquitos has worn off. Eating lunch on the deck on Thursday, I was bitten, probably by the same mosquito, numerous times on the outside of my right leg just below the knee. Initially, I thought it was just a red mark from having my left leg rest on my right. But, no, it was definitely bites and I’m afraid I scratched and scratched. Today, the red splotches, the size of an egg, are still there, but the swelling has gone down and they don’t itch.

          The very same day, at some point, another mosquito decided to feast on my right arm. I ended up with four different bites in different places from my forearm to my shoulder. I don’t know when that happened and I cannot hear the mosquito whining around me because I’m hard of hearing. And don’t try to tell me the reason for the bug attraction is that I’ve become sweeter in my mature years…it ain’t so.

          It serves me right I guess for feeling so superior all those years everyone else got bitten and they left me alone. Even when my immunity began to wear off and I got a bite or two during the summer, I liked it because it was so fun to scratch the itch. Well, not any more.

          ^&*)^&*^&^#$@#$@!, just found the reason for the should itch…another mosquito bite. Maryanne told me about a product which I think is called After-bite which will take the bug itch away. I guess rather than waiting until tomorrow to do my errands, I’ll have to get to the drugstore today and purchase some of that stuff. I tell you, if this pandemic doesn’t drive me right round the bend, this itching may just do the trick. If there’s news about a naked woman running down the middle of the street screaming, “SCRATCH ME, PLEASE SCRATCH ME.”, you’ll know her identity without looking for a name.

          Well, enough whining about my itching problem. I’d best begin getting myself together for the day. The doggies and I didn’t have any snuggle time yesterday morning, so we had some extra this morning before breakfast. And, no, my doggies do not have fleas, so that’s not what’s bugging me…pun intended. So, it’s now late morning and my Sunday morning chores haven’t even begun. Hope you had a pleasant Sunday yourself.