Communication after 54 years

There is a place in the next town called Girlee’s. It’s pretty much a plain square box of a place, possibly cinder block based, and looks as though it would be well-known to truckers. It has a reputation, though, as a good spot for breakfast.

          I have to admit to being a comfy-booth-omelet-ordering sort of breakfaster, and I have a suspicion this place will turn out to be a stool-at-the-bar-hashbrown kind of place, but My Guy has mentioned going there more than once, so I decided what the heck, why not.

          The only thing is, last night when we talked about it, the conversation went thusly:

          He: “So do you want to go out for breakfast tomorrow?”

          Me:“Well, I have to pick up friends at 12:15, so what time would we leave?”

          (Knowing that My Guy typically doesn’t have all wheels on the ground before 9:30 or 10:00)

          He: “We could leave at 8:30.” (This was true heroism on his part.)

 

          Except I really didn’t want to rush, we were busy on Friday, and we had absolutely nothing going on Saturday, and I pointed this out, thinking now we were organized. We could enjoy a leisurely breakfast, meander on our way home, and no one would have to leap out of bed or rush back.

         

          We went to bed, and I woke up this morning with plans of doubling my morning walk today, then popping out for chicken and corn for tonight’s dinner before I leave at noon.

          At 7:30, someone’s (other than me) phone alarm went off.

          “Why did you set your alarm?”

          “Aren’t we going out for breakfast?”    

         

Future Gardens

 

As we teeter back and forth these days from the Slough of Despond to tenuous hope, it might be heartening to contemplate the gardens I see on my walk.

Ye Olde False Front

 

Today I had lunch with a friend at an inn so historic that its trees in front were planted in 1791 by Ebenezer Crafts. A lovely story, but I do have to wonder a bit since they’re supposedly elms, and in the 1970s 77million elms died thanks to the Dutch elm disease that swept through New England.

Gardening for the future

 

In keeping with this whole national hyperattention to aging, My Guy and I met with an elder lawyer on Friday. First of all, I feel in no way qualified to count myself in the ranks of elders, but there we are.

Ageism

  

    A few years ago, when sweet Mamie was still with us, mention of my perfect little dog would somehow end up in my conversation. 

Monday at the Mall

 For the first time in what has to be at least two years, I paid a visit to the big shopping mall in the next town.

Home on the Farm

 

A quiet day here, catching up on laundry and completing riveting tasks like putting baking soda and vinegar down the drain to clean it up a bit.

No fireworks - just family and food

 It was a great Fourth -  just my speed.

Hail the conquering homeowner

 Yesterday didn’t start all that auspiciously, with a fall at pickleball that at least only resulted in a bruised ego and a sore hip (those pesky extra 10 pounds padding me are proving their worth).

          But I racked up one success after another as the day wore on.

          After 5 landscape companies ignoring my calls more consistently than I do spammers, one guy did get back to me, bless his heart. He began his yard and home maintenance company only a few years ago and so is still small enough that his only employees are teenage sons.  

 

         I’ve been trying to get rid of these big holly bushes in order to replace them with something lower maintenance.

        

 

When I arrived home after pickleball, there he was, and there my bushes weren’t. Yay!

 I think I’ll put in some more roses and perhaps a big grass in the back of them.

  

        The other home issue has been the microwave, which had decided to light up its filter replacement message. We just acquired it last fall, so I wasn’t sure of the process.

      

    First, the useless “manual” I received with it. Three pages telling me not to do stupid things like cook with aluminum foil and a useless diagram for some other model.

 

         Second, Google it. But the only instructions online were for previous models.

     

     I opened up the microwave. It was obvious where the filter should go: in back of that long black plastic cover. Up on a stool, I could see instructions on the top that said to slide to the left. Except it wouldn’t go. I didn’t want to snap it.

    

      Off I motored to the store where I’d bought it. Amazingly, the salesman climbed on a chair, located the critical screw, removed it, and demonstrated how to slide the panel. It could have been my personal charm that made him so helpful, but it was more likely the fact that I shamelessly repeated several times that last year we’d bought from them not only the microwave, but a fridge, oven, and dishwasher.

          Today I got out my trusty pink stepstool and screwdriver and slid that sucker right off, popping in the new filter. Ta Da!

  

        Except now the fridge has a message for me.

         

Medical Breakthrough??

 

I know how lucky I am.

    

Wildlife

 

Today we stayed home and putzed around the house, perhaps waiting for the next weather excitement.

 (THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED A TORNADO WATCH IN EFFECT UNTILL 8 PM EDT THIS EVENING. . . ) 

Gotta say many of us in town might be a tad edgy since we had a humdinger of a tornado tear through here in 2011.

            But it’s not been dull in our backyard.

           

First off, one of the local rabbits has claimed a quiet corner in my garden to stretch
out.

 

         Then, right on schedule, the three amigos – occasionally four – have done their morning march across the backyard, returning and marching back the other way as they always do later in the afternoon.

          

And our hummingbirds are glorying in not only their feeder, but the the new-found wealth of the
now-blooming bee balm.

          It occurred to me today that as species go, the birds that visit me couldn’t be more extreme examples, going from one of the largest to the smallest.

A hummingbird, is usually only about 2- 4 inches long, weighing less than a handful of pennies, while male wild turkeys can reach 25 pounds.

This reminded me of one of my favorite scenes of all time from a favorite television show, West Wing, which was chock-full of wonderful moments.

 It was one of the many hallway scenes, this one with Allison Janney and Kristin Chenowith.

Maximal Mix-up

 (A Crabby-pants Thursday with a happy ending. . . For some)

After years of owning our cars – for almost twenty years in one case – we now lease. I like the security of knowing I’m driving a relatively new car that’s probably going to give me few surprises.

Golf and Gherkins

 

On Monday, I met a friend to play golf on a course I’ve played before – over half an hour away but worth it since they at least had tee times in the morning.

Celebration and Woe

 We’re off today to New Jersey, land of my birth (although I only lived there for about a year before my family moved to Virginia) and meeting place of My Guy and me at college.

The snack conundrum

 (A non-crabby pants Thursday post)

My return to my local book club yesterday was very pleasant.

Life in the Fast Lane

 Another morning of putting on my winter robe. Today should reach upper 70s, and I know I’ll be complaining next week when it hits the projected 90s, but this is June?

SPF Alert

 

There we sat – the sleepy, the marred, the (mostly) old – in the waiting room.

Customer Appreciation

 (Crabby-pants Thursday)

A friend of mine texted me this week, asking if I’d been at our neighborhood grocery store the day before. I had, in fact, and said so. She said she’d seen me at the end of the soda aisle, and I’d looked right at her, turned away, and left.

Our own stamp

 In 2017 we left our house and moved across town to condo-land and haven’t once regretted it.

Book Bonanza

 After this morning’s Boomer exercise class at the Y, I watered everybody in the garden and then showered up to run errands.

          I needed to visit the library because I’m completely out of books, which for me is kind of like a smoker after his last pack. I’ve even finished the required book club book; I expected it would be sad and tough going, but it turned out to be a good read.

DONE

 The past few days I’ve solved a few household annoyances. I’d pat myself on the back were it not for the fact that this is the second time I’ve “solved” them.

A Grad By Any Other Name

 (Crabby-Pants Thursday)

Bed Making

 

Once you’re retired, it can be tricky holding on to what day of the week it is.

Beast and the Beauty

 

More yard news.

Today was gardening day, i.e. trying to regain a little control in the back yard.

Born to the Purple

 

Factoid: During the Bronze Age, only those of high social status could afford to wear purple, the dye being costly to produce. It was made in the Phoenician city of Tyre, and was desired not only as a status symbol, but also for its ability to resist fading.

Mining the laughs of despair

 Here we are nearing the weekend, and if I continue with my idea from last week, that makes today Crabby Pants Thursday.

Sunshine and Slapstick

 

I woke up to fresh air today, the first night sleeping with the window open – it’s supposed to reach 90 degrees this afternoon. I’m off to buy geraniums and more this afternoon.

Wilbraham, aka Calvin

 

One thing about being away for four months is driving around and checking out all the changes that have occurred.

John Q Public

 

It’s hard sometimes to come up with yet another idea for a post. Maybe I should take a page from other bloggers and designate a theme for particular days.

For instance, Thursday could be Crabby Pants Day.

Full Days

 

          One thing about being a working person who’s retired is the urge to feel a purpose to your day.

A body bent on sabotage

 

In the (probably futile) hope of reducing the number of surprises this aging body has been springing on me, I showed up this morning for the Boomer Boot Camp class at our local YMCA.

Everyday Memories

 Friends and family may be scattered or gone, but they remain around my house, triggering memories as I go through my day.

No Excuse

          I’ve been away in more than one sense. Yes, we’ve put Florida behind us until next year and are back in Massachusetts trying to adjust to wearing shoes again.

Flashback

 

          After a delightful breakfast out (an omelet and a fabulous scone with a hefty helping of Devonshire cream!), I visited the WC before leaving.

My Dogs are Barking

 It’s been a tough spring, feet-wise.

My Shelf Runneth Over

 Last year I guess I was out of library books but too close to our date of return to Massachusetts to check any new books out. I must have mentioned my plight because a friend loaned me a paperback mystery, which saved me from the horror of having nothing to read. In the meantime, I had downloaded one to my iPad, so I was doubly rich.

Tech Day

Power and Plants

 I was on the phone with our daughter in New Jersey who, after an onslaught of wind and plunging temps, is without power and therefore heat. Kindness made me avoid revealing that I was sitting on our porch in my jammies.

Retail Robbery

       My Guy was off sitting behind an easel at an art workshop, so I took myself out for some retail therapy. There was little on the agenda other than a poke around in the stores at a neighboring town but I ended up at the same discount store I shop in by our condo.

Looking over my shoulder

 I faced the unfaceable and stuffed my Temple of Carbs into a bathing suit for the first time this year. I was off to the small pool in our complex to read and maybe catch some conversation.

          Unlike everyone else, I dodged the sun and planted myself safely under the shade of an umbrella and opened my book, but after a while, the chatter in the pool drew me in.

          While we stood in the water, swishing with our hands, one woman there mentioned that when she returned North, she’d be going back to her job in an assisted living facility. I knew one of my friends there at the pool had sold their house in Georgia and moved with her husband to such a place. Both facilities were the ‘staged’ sort, where you might begin in the independent living portion but when the need arose, you would then move on to the next level of care.

          My friend spoke about the changes she’d likely see there when they returned to Georgia from Florida – people needing more help in the common dining room than before, others who they might not see again at all.

          One thing I like about being here is that most of the people I see are in my age range and out and about, which means that paradoxically, with few opportunities for comparison, I tend to forget how old I am.   

          I don’t think I’d like living in a place where the ongoing frailties of others would serve as a graphic reminder to me of what’s ahead.

Changing the Bed

 

         When I was teaching, Sundays meant fitting in those last weekend events while still trying to finish up those papers I needed to grade to hand back on Monday.

Once more into the breach

 

 

         They’re at it again. A month ago, after our credit card was compromised, we spent hours and days running the unforgiving obstacle course of contacting all the entities that are paid by it.

Hunting and Gathering

With My Guy off at an art workshop, I decided to go to downtown Venice, aka “the island” for a little shopping.

 Ever since 1960, when the West Coast Inland Waterway was created, the original city center has been an island, accessible only by crossing one of three bridges.

How to Entertain 101

 

          My Guy and I had a great evening of dinner and Mahjong at some friends’ house the other night, but I have to say that another set friends have truly found the true key to effortless entertaining.

Heights, Lights, and Turtles

 The entertainment value of my walk around the complex – usually limited to an audio book on my phone – went up the other day as I spotted first, giant finials on the ground, and second, the men who were installing them.

Compos Mentis

 I knew I’d just had it in my hand.

Someone else's shoes

 

Destruction and Construction

 Yesterday after some laundry, a walk, and computer time, we decided to go out for lunch. It’s still in the 60s, so we didn’t feel any great need to find a scenic spot by the bay. Instead, we went to a once-blank area (think scrub pines and cattle) that’s being transformed into a town.  Once completed, Wellen Park will have 22,000 homes.

Chats and Rats

 

          Maybe it was a childhood of growing up in a suburban single-family home, but I remember as a child being fascinated by those Indian pueblos, all those homes stuck one on top of another. It looked like fun, maybe climbing a ladder up to your neighbor.

Sleeping Easy

So “Succession” scored 27 nominations, with 6 winners. Big deal. I got rid of a couch.

Time Travel

 A letter to the editor in Tuesday’s paper reminded me of something else I read the other day. The writer, who came to spend the winter here in Florida, said he hadn’t realized that not only was he traveling south, but he was also moving backward in time.

            Did you know that –

            Florida observes Robert E. Lee’s birthday on Jan 19, Confederate Memorial Day on April 26, and Jefferson Davis’ birthday on June 8. At least they’re not paid holidays for state employees, although they are in Alabama and Mississippi. Even better, in 1983 several states combined Martin Luther King, Jr’s birthday with Robert E. Lee celebrations to create “King-Lee Day.”

            And DiSantis’ campaign may be over, but the book banning continues and in the latest development, sociology has been canceled in the public colleges.

            At Pickleball the other day, one person said she’d have to leave early because she was going to an abortion rally. I said, “Good for you,” and then realized she’d probably be holding a different placard than the one I was picturing.

Changing Times

 

Pickleball was cancelled this morning on account of damp.

Dead Zones and Dead Phones

 

Here in our place in Florida, we live in a bunker. Our walls are cinderblock, surrounded by our neighbors in the building whose walls are also – you guessed it – more cinderblock.

Watch your back (or fingers)

 

We’ve had a busy past couple of days, and not in a good way.

Finally, I'm back

 

It’s been a busy few weeks; like many people, full of shopping, cooking, and family.