Lawyers, Carpenters, and Doctors - Oh My!

         There’s been so much going on in the past two hours, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m retired after all. What started out as a pretty ordinary day definitely picked up speed in the afternoon.

          The morning was mellow if you don’t count the heartache and frustration of badly played golf. But that was okay, because I was in the company of friends, nice people who couldn’t care less that my once-mediocre game is now several notches below even that sad level.  

Afterwards, we hung around as usual chatting in the parking lot, covering whatever topics we hadn’t gotten to in 2 ½ hours of walking the course together and then I headed home, conscious of the fact that I had a carpenter coming to start on our leaky porch.

          Just before he arrived, an unfamiliar number appeared on my phone but I answered it anyway when I saw that the source was Oklahoma, land of my ancestors.

The nice lawyer on the other end had just launched into her explanation of searching out information on for a probate of my sister’s holdings when the doorbell rang.

          I ushered the carpenter in and returned to my call. My sister and her husband died in Texas without wills in 2022, and as a result their property has been twisting in the wind ever since. But good news – this woman was calling about Oklahoma mineral rights passed to my sister and me by our grandfather. So there might be some closure coming from that quarter.

          I hung up, heard voices and found My Guy out in the driveway chatting with the carpenter, who drifted off to look at the porch. My Guy: “I’ve got some bad news.”

          Our doctor is retiring, shutting up shop. And here I thought he’d be good for at least another ten years. Damn.

          As it happens, NO ONE apparently graduates from medical school and thinks, “Hot Diggity! I’m moving to Western Massachusetts!” So, remembering what a hassle it was to find a doctor two years ago when My Guy’s doc up and died (seriously- it was over a year and a half before he found someone) we jumped into action. I texted everyone I could think of – to no avail. One person said she hated her doctor, another said her doc wasn’t taking anyone new, and another said her doctor was older than dirt.

          My Guy fired up the car and took off to the one place the office had said might have openings. Bingo. We now both have appointments in the fall, and the new doctor is only ten minutes away. Score!

Slow Saturday

Not a heckofa lot going on here. Nowhere I needed to be, so I meandered through the morning. Enjoyed my tea, finally put on some clothes and did a walk around the complex. I then made a trip to the library, where I noted that the rose bushes there that I volunteered to tend needed me to return with clippers in hand for dead-heading.

Sniffing Blanks

          Lately, the odds are pretty high of finding me at a standstill in front of the open fridge sniffing barbecue sauce or with my nose in the jar of kalamata olives.

A day in the life of a grandmother

          My Saturday began hunched over my phone and computer.

Saved by Facebook

Me, dodging that bullet.

  

  Not something I ever expected to write, but. . .

Forgotten Skill

 

          I broke one of my own personal rules last week and bought a pair of linen pants. Don’t get me wrong. I love linen. But on someone else - those kind of people who look all flowy and carefree, carrying off each wrinkle with aplomb.

Tunes and cars and the march of progress

           I remember when we retro-fitted a tape deck in my ’85 Subaru wagon. I loved that wagon – a deep navy blue, it was just the right size. And now it had tunes! I even sold my soul to Columbia House for a brief spell, but then after the introductory phase I didn’t want to keep paying for tapes, so sometimes I’d check them out of the library and make copies.

          Next was our little Bronco 2, with a built in (!) tape deck and with a ridiculously small wheel base. I could do a U-turn on a dime. So tall and square that I’m surprised it didn’t just tump over on its side sometimes.

          In 1998 we leased a Pathfinder, so fancy that the Nissan badge on the back was gold. Now I was living, with both a tape deck and a CD player.

 (We ended up buying it and kept it for 20 years. That car would not give up. It was such a tank that the body gave out before the motor and we ended up welding the engine to the frame to hold everything together. We ultimately gave it in trade to a junkman who was helping us clear out when we moved from our house to this condo.)

          My 2006 Passat sedan came next, with a CD player. I loved that car, which I’d bought all by myself, not a husband in sight. It was the loss leader for a dealership outside of Boston. They kept trying to steer me to something higher end, but no, I didn’t want leather seats, and no, I didn’t need their finance package or insurance.  

          Then we found a used 2009 Infinity SUV, much fancier than we’d have been able to afford if it was new, so this one was outfitted a CD deck that held 6 CDs at once. And yes, we still have that car and it waits for us in Florida.

          However now I’m driving my leased 2025 Honda CRV. With no deck – tape or CD – and no way to play the music I’d gathered over the years. This is progress?

          Fortunately, I had transferred much of the CD collection to my last laptop. Good thing, since the stupid laptop I have now doesn’t even have a CD drive. And miraculously, we figured out how to move that file (that I didn’t realize I’d saved) from the new laptop to my phone and thus now I can Bluetooth that into my car.

    
But these went out with the trash last week.