Birthdays

Birthdays - or bold enough to tell them what you really want.  

Firmly resolute about never, ever, ever getting what I want for my birthday.  I tell them time and time again PLEASE!  They will not listen. What is it that I want?  

NOTHING! 

I don’t want or need a thing.  If they must do something, how about detailing my car, spending the day hanging out together, but NOOOO, they have this need to buy me something. Well, If I can’t get what I want, then I don’t want anything!  Wait, that is what I want.  The gift I made my strong stand against?  

Michael Buble tickets.  

WOW! That was the sweetest, most thoughtful, gift that I never, ever, ever didn’t want.  I’m already dreaming on a gift that I won’t want for my next birthday.  The anticipation is palpable.

There is something to be said for birthday presents. Have you had your fill of potted plants, a lifetime of socks, (I’ll request to be buried in a few pair), a plethora of ties, scarves, pajamas, sweaters, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.  Of course, we are forever appreciative of the fact that folks are still willing to extend offers of gifts. Belonging to the practical school of gift giving, I say we take our altruistic gift givers off the hook and put forward for consideration a gift that adds to our education, enhances our skills, improves our socialization.  A night school class in dance, hiking, jewelry making will work nicely.  

There’s never enough of flora the likes of clematis, hydrangea, snowballs. May I add a bit of opinion? Make plant matter perennials, please.  Anticipating the plants annual spring revival is a nifty way to remember the gifter.  If perchance you happen to receive an eponymous Eleanor Roosevelt rose bush, keep in mind a horticulturist’s description of this rose; ‘not good in a bed, but fine against a wall’.

Once you have used your noggin and come up with a creative gift you can feel proud to gift, don’t lay back on your laurels, you are not finished.  Along comes another occasion.  An anniversary, graduation, one of those insipid occasions, i.e. mother’s day, father’s day, grandparents day, secretary day, boss day.  Thanks a lot, Hallmark!  Why snub Ground Hog’s Day? We honor Washington and Lincoln, what about Buchanan and Polk, they were presidential too?

If you care to give the VERY best and yearn to get really imaginative about this chronic venture, consider these;  

-Donate to a worthy cause, animal shelter, cancer society, or college, 

-mall gift cards

-plant a tree, buy a brick in the honoree’s name

-sports, restaurants tickets -look into Groupon.com for half-off offers

-Spa, grocery store gift cards, 

-trips, 

-car gear, 

-movie tickets, 

-mall gift cards (did I say this one already, never get enough of these)*.  

-Umbrellas, a sure hit since they get misplaced over the years, or in the same year.  

-A delivered pizza -  my most creative offerings.  

100 year old Uncle Willard, spurned an honorary party, yet agreed to an anchovy and pepperoni pizza- -yiiiieeeccch-- hope he didn’t get ‘agita’ (Italian heart burn). How many more ideas can anyone conjure up for these 90 to 100 year old youngsters.

*beware of gift cards. Companies and restaurants go out of business, cards are easily lost, misplaced, forgotten and the money is sitting out there, never to be recaptured, by you, that is. Note the conditions on the cards, some have a shelf life, expire, devalue through nonuse. If stolen, there’s no recourse.

Plum out of ideas? It’s now time to rely on the old standbys, scarf, tie, sweater, a potted tulip, gifts that can be stockpiled with the others, except for the tulip. Speaking of flora, these perennials come up every year to remind you how pleased you are that you did not get a scarf, tie, or sweater for your last birthday.  No way to replant those. Another imaginative idea was the planting of a mother’s day garden for a friend.  Did I mention perennials come up every year?  There’s got to be many more spiffy gift notions out there. 

Swiffer me til eternity

Please excuse my short hiatus as I was working out some of life's little curve balls, death of a baby and health issues of loved ones and so on. I'm back and feeling a bit bloggish, so here goes.

Swiffer - A Love Story.

As with the word salve, I equally love the word swiffer.  And how I love to swiffer. The word swiffer is more than a noun.  Like google, this word is flexible enough to be used as a verb, as in ‘I’ll google it’. 

                An Ode to Swiffer

I love to swiffer day and night, 

even when I’m a fright 

I swiffer high I Swiffer low,

and who’s to know 

In formal dress and when I’m bare, 

so who’s to care,

Easy, convenient, low energy

Swiffer me til eternity

If ever asked which house appliance I would part company; stove, microwave, washer, dryer, all would be sacrificed to my Swiffer.  Byebye Amana, so long Westinghouse, HELLO SWIFFIE.  

As with all love interests there is a downside to household products. Somewhat improved, Swiffers are a boon to the world of dusting, although a small hand vac is still needed for the trailings.  Frugal me, I prolong the pad by flipping it.  In the land of recycling, this product presents a big negative, not at all thrilled that a good portion of the pad goes unused due to a design flaw, plus the item isn’t biodegradable.  Maybe the company can improve on this. Just maybe I’ll contact them with a complaint, ahh, constructive comment, hahaha.  I feel one coming on.

Dear Swiffer (Proctor and Gamble), I admit to a serious yen to Swiffer but care to put to use more body parts than my hands. My feet want to get into the act, too, and in my humble opinion, I offer this suggestion. ‘Pedders’. They work like this, while swiffering to Michael Buble, I might get in some side step action and Pedder at the same time.  For as you see, I’m retired and must maximize my time minimizing housework, for there are many more exciting things awaiting me out there.  Additionally and please, Swiffer people, design your product to make full use of the pad and peds. Thank you.  I remain, a devoted customer in perpetuity, or til hell freezes over or which ever comes first. Go green!

Death Matters

There is a dirty little secret in my family. It is a hard one to let out but here goes.

Mom has always hushed us up if we dare address the topic. Once, in front of her, I said something about the topic to my children who were in their early teens. 'No', says Ma, 'don't say that in front of the children.

The family secret, WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE. There it's out. Now deal with it! How can anyone with all candor say they know about this one, it is a misconception of grand proportions, a biggie for sure. We're all heading there, wherever there is. Yes, all of us. Many of us from our generation are in denial about this well proven fact of life-or death. Charles from Chicago expounds, 'each time a relative or acquaintance dies, I swear I will address my own mortality, and speak to my adult children concerning my burial, although the kids have some squeamishness about death issues.

At a 60 year reunion, some alums spoke of writing or having written their obits. This leaves much room for creativity and can be a fun activity.

We need not delay these dicey hard to face arrangement for the last minute, til our dying breath. The decisions for where when how and why-not why, or when for that matter, must come from me along. My children have balked at some of my death thoughts, but after all is said and done, they reserve the right to do 'what in the hell they want'. WHAT? AM I TO COMPLAIN? I think not. Might not be such a good idea to mention hell and death in the same breath.

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

 
I am putting it all out there for public consumption. Feast on it.

Tiiiiii i i immm is on my side, yes it is

A  critical question that arises when considering retirement or if already in the coveted position is,  What the hell will I do with my free time?  While in the ultimate quest for the retirement holy grail, you’re in the land of make-believe, idealizing the infinite wonders that await. Answers might range from the grandiose to the practical; travel, purchases, repair of all those nagging long neglected chores. 

The answers as well as the questions themselves will change when in the reality stage.  In the wake stage, you come face to face with reality. Time has a different look. In a flurry of first activities you will take a good view of your home, and your immediate surroundings. You will take time to rest. Then time turns on you and becomes a mammoth gaping black hole that stalks you, haunts you,needs tending to and most importantly, filling, the filling part requiring great amount of thought. Time, with all its various angles, directions, lures, conjures up marvelous possibilities, it can leave you yearning for more, it can overwhelm you and make you ache for internal definitions, for answers, for a sign of what is to come next and for some outside force to rescue you.  Putting work aside, you no longer have the cover of work to shield you, define you. Now what? Indeed, now what!

The expression ‘doing nothing’ is highly over-rated, a misnomer, in fact. Ready yourself with ‘carpe diem’ philosophy. Time is different now. The eager anticipation of 4:00 P.M. is irrelevant and brings no joy, except to watch Oprah. 5:00 has a new dimension as well.  There is no end of the work day euphoria. The beginning of the day and the end of the day don’t have the same ring to it. Monday doesn’t bring on the angst or dread it once did.  Even if your job was a positive place, Mondays did something to yah, which can be said for weekends too.  Monday always took such a bad rap.  Monday, though a good name for a day of the week, happens to be cast in a harsh role of first place.  Who wouldn’t want to be in first place?  Monday, if it had a brain, might respond, why me, what did I do to deserve this. I don’t want to be #1, I’d rather be Tuesday or better yet, Friday.

Other days of the week are nice too. Wednesday is a nice day of the week.  Where Lucy had reconfigured her Mondays post retirement, Wednesdays evolved into senior movie day. This day was special.  At $4.50 for seniors we became a lot less fussy about our choice of movie. There’ve been some rotters, some memorable ones, too, but the price was right.

If you find that one day is becoming the same as the next and the next, you need to 

stop 

refresh, 

review and 

get back on track.  

Begin by taping a cartoon on your fridge, change your routine, ask someone to join you for lunch.  Make each day a gift to yourself with a promise to smile, rest, eat well and exercise.  Lastly, keep the promise.  

Monday or Blue Monday, due to it’s placement at the beginning of the work week played the bad guy role. This need no longer be the case.  The dread that was felt when Sunday ended and Monday started is done and gone.  Build in special activities that differentiate each day from another.  For me, Friday is the day I visit Mom, an absolute must day.

It took some time to adjust to the realization that there was no job on Monday morning.  No chance to use the expression Blue Monday, no need for those ever popular Monday jitters.  Still now, I must confess, Monday jitters emerge without rhyme or reason. Mondays can still exert a sway and bring on slight surges of anxiety.  It will pass.  Fridays bring on the thank goodness it’s Friday (TGIF) effect.  A restaurant, TGI-Friday’s, capitalized on this end of the work week euphoria.  The Friday thing will remain, as more folks are available to come out and play.

If you have reached master status at frittering time away, and feeling embarrassment at losing track of time, a calendar to mark off the days is one way to get back on track.  Weekends are more notable because of the loud ecstatic clammer over the advent of TGIF.  However, when Mondays arrive, and trust they will, the days blur. Prep that calendar for Tuesdays through Thursdays. 

No need to concern ourselves with rushing here and scurrying there, for grocery shopping or the mall.  Selfishly, we have the sales clerks mostly to ourself to ask endless questions, to harp on the terrible/beautiful weather outdoors, to offer up an opinion on whatever topic arrises, politics, marriage partners, etc, it matters not and whether the listener likes it or not, because we have  RETIREMENT POWER!

Helene confides that she is more than concerned about her periods of confinement, as she nears the great event.  “I can become a recluse if left to myself, particularly on weekends.  I feel that I want to sit still for the first year’.  She is straining to put in a full 20 years of service before calling it quits.  As a septuagenarian, it’s time.  

There certainly will be periods of confinement and sufficient bouts of doubt, sorely needed for recuperation of mind and body from decades of set routine.  Your internal time clock will let you know when it is time to move on. And it is critical that you do move on.

As to a small part time job Helene says ‘at my age there is no guilt over needing to stay productive’. My response? BUT, YOU NEED TO BE USEFUL- WHAT ABOUT KEEPING BUSY - HOW DO YOU THINK YOU CAN STAY YOUNG- HEALTHY - IN GOOD SHAPE - followed by an admission, yeah, she’s right.

Karen from NY, NY says she just wants the day to come.  Not a fan of lists, she insists that no expectations are attached to the big day.  Phase one is only to relax, the possibility of part time job is a mild thought.  As far as her original intentions to travel, the weak economy has put a damper on that. 

Here is a call to action for relatives and friends.  With the hoopla and glee of a retirement party over and done, the afterglow will last for a week or two, maybe a month.  When the enormity of what has taken place sets in---- then- - - - . While your beloved friend/relative/neighbor is experiencing solitude for the first few months, be prepared with an invite to lunch, a small gift, a conversation.  Ask advice on a topic relevant to the retiree, pick the retiree up for a walk, ice cream, or a drive, in other words extend a helping hand to ease your friend into their new state.  

WHAT?

Three old guys were out on a walk
One says, 'it's windy today'.
Second one says. 'no it's not, it's Thursday'.
Third one comments, 'so am I, let's go get some beers'.

Our state of hearing is the butt of many jokes, just like all our other failing senses. You'll find collections of greeting cards at pharmacies, grocery stores, the marts -K, Wal, Food- that speak to our health conditions. Though the truth of the matter is painfully harsh, the humor can bring quite a laugh. One writer reported seeing a sign by the cards that warned readers not to laugh out loud.  Imagine that!

WHAT, a single syllabic four letter word, seems to bring on such loud voices when iterated too many times in conversation. What else is there to do when a hearing challenged individual can't get your drift. What else is there to do but raise the volume. When in the company of strangers your choices are either to keep your thoughts to yourself or let everyone in hearing range in on your business.

Hearing aids don't seem to help the cause, for they can end up in places other than their intended purpose, namely, down the drain, under the bed, in the sofa.  I've heard tell that these devices are uncomfortable and difficult to adjust, and most importantly hard to find when lost.  One positive to be said for glasses, multiple pair won't set you back thousands of dollars.

96 year old mom simply refuses to consider a hearing aid. She'll adjust to not hearing a person's statement by staring at them when they talk then giving an obligatory, yes, yes answer.  She didn't hear a word. I made my case to her for the device once or twice and have given up. She is much too set in her ways. I learned to adjust my volume. My sister and I need to be eternally grateful that she remembers words like Brussel sprouts, a vegie sis and I were struggling to recall.  Sharp mind-shot hearing.  Reverse that for sis and me. Together we make a perfect bunch.

and it's free, all free! or is it.

Welcome, fellow senior citizens aka senzens.  I'll address the work 'free' today. Is what is claimed to be free, really free? We'll in some cases it is, mostly.

If you have a modicum of computer skills check out the web site freecycle.com. Using this site you can find items for the taking, but here's the mostly part. You must go and get the item. With that said there is another part to freecycle.  Do you want to rid yourself of some of your clutter?  Then post it on freecycle, if you receive a phone call from a customer, say your goodbyes to your junk.  Remember the adage 'one persons junk is another person's treasure'.  The reverse hold true, as well, one person's treasure is another person's junk - so when holding on for dear life to treasures, your treasures might just be kicked to the curb, when you say your final goodbyes. But that I'll save for another time and entry.

My daughter, Leah and I play what we call 'the curb game'. It goes like this. Put an unwanted item on the curb, watch from a secret perch, and wait for a customer. We return periodically to our station to watch the festivities and gauge the time it took for the item to be snatched up.  She and I can be found cackling like fools when we spot a taker.  Great fun.

I have a long time ago recollection of furniture found on the streets of Charlestown, Ma. Dick now in New York, furnished his Charlestown house with fine pieces of street furniture. That is great fun too.

For clarification purposes, I must, really I must, add more.
 - -When I say mostly free what I mean is that in order to pick up the items a truck or large vehicle is required. Gas, borrowing or renting a truck, paying  people to help must be factored in.
- - Additionally, while it takes a computer to find the site, an old fashioned phone call is required to set up a time and date to retrieve the free goods.
- - As far as the computer thing, some of us aren't tech literate. Get to a library take a simple lesson or find someone, they are all around us, to help get on the site. You'll discover new vistas and love it.
- - The curb game has its faults. There is a serious struggle going on in our brains to get rid of stuff. When we play the game, Leah will select her mother's items, that would be mine, hers remain safe and intact cause you see she just can't part with her old items and the past. The stuff of hers has sentimental value, but this is another topic for another time.

Now, I must take leave. I have found a delightful museum with free admittance until noon, so gotta get going.  Til next time, I remain - a senior citizen -senzen.

doctors, doctors, everywhere

Henry, an 80 year old man was walking down the street and spotted his doctor. The doctor noticed Henry wore a big smile and had with a beautiful woman on his arm.
                     His doctor said, "Henry, you seem to be doing very well for yourself".
                     Henry responded" Just doing what you told me doc, get a hot mama and
                     be cheerful".
                     Doctor looks at him with a frown and responds, "no I didn't, I said you
                     have a heart murmur, be careful!"

Claire from Cromwell, Ct was inundated with between 2 and 3 doctor appointments per week when she first retired. The doctors were cute, she reported, but there was waaaay too much doctor time in her schedule, and she just wanted to relax.

I had not seen my doctor, Dr. Sam from Hartford Hospital, in the cute category too, for a number of years. I suppose we tend to go to the doctor when we are feeling ill, and not for wellness visits. Realizing it was time I made my appointment and was met with Dr. Sam and his intern (what is with all these cute Drs?).
                      In the process of a thorough inspection the doctor asked, "are there any
                      heart troubles in your family?"
                      "No, Dr.", I said, "we don't have heart problems, we give them".
                      "That's funny" says he with a deadpan expression.
                       I think to myself, was it so funny that you forgot to laugh?

So much for my intended comedy gig.

Back to doctor appointments. While at the hospital, I made two others,  the OBGYN and the all important eye doctor, a neglected commodity in my world.

Claire still continues her regular doctor routine.  Barring a few falls due to dangerous conditions out there, (can't be helped at times), her health is fairly good for her late 70's, but her health is doing what comes naturally, slowly deteriorating.

As to all those appointments following retirement - yes, the doctor visits do take up some of your time and keep you busy, but, gees, why not get many of them out of the way before the big R arrives. For those of you with sick time and vacation time remaining in your work banks, take these days or half a day off and make good use of them for appointments. When the big day comes you'll have all that time to use for your house cleaning regimen. That oughta keep you busy, as well.