FINALLY MAKING IT

Finally made it into the world of aging. I've earned my wings.

As a child and growing into a young adult as my father grew into his senior years I recall that dad had a large coffee cup or empty glass jar sitting on his table which sat next to his favorite chair which sat in his den. Near by was his TV and all the creature comforts of home.  It's this large cup which I reference here.

In this coffee cup were implements of writing: pens, pencils, high lighters, erasers, as well as small tools: screwdrivers, spoons, other utensils and other items that had gone astray: buttons, needles and the like.

I have now taken to this well worn tradition and begun to collect items in a see-through jar with implements of my own. More toward the likings and need of female use and modern technology: tweezers, pens, pencils, remote, computer plugs (computers and cell phones need cords and power), and of course, an item or two that dad also used that I failed to mention, reading glasses. These glasses adorn most locations within the house but are a regular item for the jar.  By containing them in this jar they are never too far away.

I have joined the world of my father and have personalized my items to accommodate cell phone solitaire, crosswords by book and computer and whatever else fits in the container. The items contained have changed for a more technological world but the concept is the same. The world has changed very little.

placement is everything

With the aging process going about its usual business and with my attempting to go about my business of denying what is happening to mind and body, I have of late been taking items of clothing, food, and all other things out of their place and leaving them about. The natural state of things that are strewn about and placed here and there is that they inevitably go missing. I was surprised when I caught myself   opening my freezer compartment to place a diner in my microwave oven. This phenom goes the other way as well- micro to freezer. I have heard of mail placed in the fridge, perishable food placed on book shelves and the like.

Another cute happening going on has to do with holding a conversation with a friend, business rep anyone, in fact and trying to report details back to another friend. The second interaction doesn't go well when the friend begins to ask when, where, why, who and I can only answer I don't remember what was said. Can't say if I was not alert, not listening, distracted, concentrating on music in background or just not absorbing information.  All I can say is, I just can't say, I just can't say. I must go now for I have misplaced my 10 pair of reading glasses and must go look for them.

the grand dog

Maggie; a perky, active, tireless, attentive, humorous, entertaining bird dog is beyond compare. When one is young and interested in travel and getting around and going out to eat and at the same time is a dog owner, there is always need to find someone to dog sit. They hope to have a sitter who they can feel fully secure and relaxed and trusting with, someone near by, someone who knows the canine,  someone who is related, like a mother, aunt, in law, brother, good friend.

I have been recently dispatched from another state to do just this for my grand dog while my kin went on vacation for four days.  She knows the dog will get properly exercised and taken out regularly. In fact so does the dog know this. I've been told Maggie knows how to play me and thus I am out of doors with her while she seeks out the company of all kinds and sizes of birds. Mag must be kept on a leash at all times unless she is in an enclosed area. She will bolt like the wind and run in front of traffic. She knows no bounds.

We have recently been by the ocean where there are rocky coastlines and tons of seagulls and other critters. These are her main interests. By allowing her to lead me we have scaled some tall boulders and slipped and slid our way up tall areas. She just wants to go and I just want to get some exercise so off we go hither, thither and yon to our latest adventure.

At arrival to our residence, I take a respite with a book or fall off on a short nap.  This sustains her briefly then she is at my side, clawing at me and turning her head to the side making some small barking noises. This means grandma, I'm ready for more. I make growling sounds and head for the leash which brings on full barks and jumping and twirling.

Though I know that a dog of smaller and less active stature is more my kind, that Maggie can get under your skin with her curious ways and beauty. When with her there are plenty of compliments on her Brittany Spaniel Setter mix spots and soft fur. I yearn to have her characteristics and good looks. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, please bring me back as Maggie and allow me to have someone of my nature as the owner. She is back with her parents and I am back to my indolent ways. Time for them to have another vacation so I can get back to climbing mountains.

OH WOW, OH WOW

Purported to be Steve Jobs last words. So foretelling, so profound, those small words say it all. I have had the explicit opportunity to experience two deaths in a short period of time. Both my mother and husband died within two months of each other just a few months ago. Yes, it's a bummer, a loss beyond comprehension. In spite of the tears, loss of sleep, depression and feelings on not wanting to go on, the expression time heals all wounds is factual. Although no one and nothing can bring you through your pain, not even the kids, there still is fortune in their being there. This matter is a personal one and each person must manage this on their own terms. When I am able to come up for air, I will as I have in the past, thank them for their good nature, support, successful lives and their special choices in life mates.

Time heals and we will be able to express caring and love for our dear husband and father in due time.

winter weather wonderland

All seasons have their specialties and winter is no exception, but has the wonder gone out of your winter weather?  It's a natural occurrence that this season will come as it does year after year, especially in northern New England and bring with it all its gifts.  Questions and comments in winter range from wishing for the romance of a white Christmas to the pure frustration of yearning for snow to subside. When is it going to stop, how many feet have we gotten so far, where is my shovel, I can't take it any more, do we need bread and milk, let's get water, I won't chance going out in the snow and getting stuck, when will the snow start, noon or evening, it is soooo cold. We hang on every word put forth by weather forecasters and wow, do we take out our anger on them when their reports are wrong.

Of course, there are the diehard folks who head for the slopes when the snow tops the mountains.
As a senior, the slopes are not in my current routine when the snow peaks.  I did my share but now at 70 years, I must protect my bones. After all they are not what they used to be. I now look for temperatures that approximate my age. Give me 70.

One of the grand expectations of winter is that it is followed by spring. It is February now and the snow has not subsided. Folks have taken to talking almost nonstop about weather conditions and to listen endlessly about the snow heights and times that the next storm will start. Even in February there is hope. Crocuses without fail will show their little heads and bodies and grow taller with the sun. This is a perfect science even as their wee heads pop from the ground  and retreat if a storm comes on, soon to get taller with the sun. Crocuses are perfect harbingers of spring along with the robin. Snow, crocuses, robins. Nature at its best. And there is nothing we can do about it if choosing to live in northern New England.

One way to look at this winter phenomenon was put in these words. Any day we are alive is a good day. Yah, let's keep positive about our remaining days on earth even in winter blizzards. Spring is right around the corner and another round of seasons with all their wonderful points will be here soon.

DEATH MATTERS

To say I know about this one is a misconception of grand proportions- this one is a biggie for sure.  We’re all heading there, wherever there is.  Yes, all of us. There I said it, but many of us from our generation and our parent’s generation are in denial about this well proven fact of life - or death.   Charles from __________expounds, ‘each time a relative or acquaintance dies, I swear I will address my own concerns about burial, speak to my children, although the kids have difficulty addressing the topic too. 

We need not delay these dicey, hard to face arrangements for the last minute. The decision on how to handle my arrangements for life support, burial, where, when, how, why, - ah, not why, or when for that matter-  must come from me alone.  My children have already balked at some of my decisions, but after all is said and done and I am gone, THEY RESERVE THE RIGHT TO DO WHAT IN THE HELL THEY WANT -WHAT, AM I TO COMPLAIN?  I think not! Maybe not such a good idea to mention hell and death in the same breath. I’m putting it all out there for public consumption. So feast on this.

So folks, what are your plans?  They are certainly subject to change, at least put them down on paper before there is no subject to change.

don't sweat the small stuff

Many of us have heard the expression 'don't sweat the small stuff and it's all small stuff', but I contend that the small stuff can do you in. Case in point. The kitchen is an alluring place and we can all vouch for that. The kitchen can also double as a place that requires much work and maintenance.

This has to do with a dishwasher. The dishwasher soap dispenser sticks and does not snap open to allow the detergent out to clean the dishes. I counted 17 minutes exactly when the trap door would make a snap sound signifying that the soap contraption was attempting to open, then I would open the door manually and snap open the soap dispenser. Contemplating buying a new machine I decided first to do some digging.  I saw that the door was clogged with hardened black gunk that had accumulated over the years. It was nasty. I worked for days on an unclogging mission and reached success. Temporarily, that is. When I decided to sit back the do-hickey got stuck once again.

One cold more like frigid day last week, the dishwasher plain stopped. I went on a search mission for a new machine but decided I would bail the water out this one time and try the machine again. Evidently the pipes were frozen (as was the toilet, but that is another story) and the machine decided to cut me a break and start. I was gleeful and expired a sigh of relief.

I'm not sitting back on my laurels though, to forestall getting caught off guard, my intentions are to continue to look for deals on dishwashers and toilets, the water saver ones.