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.

Books in hand, I next motored off to a lovely place I don’t go to often enough – a market that must have once been a farm stand but now offers plants, superior ice cream, a deli counter, dry goods, a bakery, meats, and vegetables. 

In most cases it’s more expensive than the grocery store, but once we’re deeper into the summer, much of the produce will be fresh from the farm.

I noticed this at the check-out. Can you imagine a world without pennies? It looks as though they’ll soon be as forgotten as the Dodo bird.

God, I’m old.

Then more excitement as I took my car for a much-needed car wash.

With this model's hyper-sensitive bells and whistles, there was a bit of beeping and complaining as we were pulled through the battery of brushes and flappy fabric.

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.  

If only looks could actually kill