A Life Lesson Applied

Today started out early. An email from the president of the HOA of the community where we have owned a weekend cottage for many years.  It announced the agenda for our upcoming association meeting. Hmm, she is home, I thought.  I had called her several times in the past week about something I had been working on and had tediously pushed through at a community meeting and board meeting for approval. No response. The issue was an osprey platform sponsored by the community in memory of a departed community activist.  This is, in the overall scheme of things, trivial.

What was not trivial at least for me was working for hours over the weekend on the application for the project - state and federal approval, plus support from a local non-profit, then driving it down to the president's home so that she could sign it and send it on.  Then hearing NOTHING from her after I left it in her mailbox a week ago.

I shot a polite but cool email back to her saying I left the osprey platform application in your mailbox, did you get it, I haven't been able to reach you.  She then called and had the decency to apologize, noted that I had put a lot of work into the application, and now what should she do with it?  GRRRR... send it on, of course.

Maybe she is overwhelmed with work or personal issues. The point is, I was furious she didn't have the decency to respond.  All she had to do is say, yes I got it and will send it on ASAP.

Communication is key.

Later today, I got a call from a newish member of our community up here saying he is in charge of our (tiny) marina and "someone" noticed our boat was leaking oil into our creek.  The creek  which we have designated as a "living shoreline".  He sounded fairly feverish. Gulp.  Thanks.

It was a dark and stormy day.  I left a VM for my husband who was at work in DC, then called the guy who winterized the boat two weeks ago. He could come and check it out by the end of the week. Please come sooner, I pleaded, feeling like a major polluter. Called our son, he was involved in a work project. Reluctantly called our neighbor, an engineer who knows everything about boats. He and I and Zoey walked down the path through the woods and to the creek. The oil slick was fairly large and kept spreading as oil dripped rapidly out of the boat. I stood on the pier freezing, Zoey sat there shooting me quizzical looks while becoming encrusted with raindrops, and my neighbor climbed up, down and around the boat and finally stopped the worst of the spill.

First thing I did back home after peeling off my slicker and wiping Zoey down was call the guy who called me earlier. Told him we had temporarily stopped the leak and that the guy who works on the boat would come out Thursday. He was relieved and very appreciative of the update.

Postscript: the boat guy never came and stopped taking our phone calls. I want that boat sold!

Communication is key.

A Sad Decision

We have neighbors nearby who "keep to themselves', as the saying goes.  They are friendly when you see them but they aren't chatty - usually.  They were a big ally in our fight against the coyote thugs two years ago.  They have a dog, no children and they don't seem to have much company.  The dog is their life.

The husband had kidney cancer eight years ago.  It has metastasized.  Drugs have kept it at bay. Recently they put their house on the market.

He was walking his dog a few days later and said when I stopped to say hello that they were moving to a community south of Charlotte.  Building a house there; she wanted it.  He thought he'd volunteer with a dog rescue group down there.  I didn't ask why because I knew.  She didn't want him to die here.

Yesterday I saw her again walking their dog. Said I would be sorry to see them go. How was he doing, I asked.  Terrible, she said.  He had a procedure where they put "ice" into the healthy kidney; it was supposedly a benign procedure.  He has been very ill ever since.  The doctors can't explain it.  I can. Someone made a mistake with that "ice".

Their house in Charlotte with be ready early. Who has ever heard of that - early, she says.  I'll have to go back and forth between two homes.

She told me about the new community they will move to. It is one of those communities where you ride around in golf carts she said.  Lots of clubs and activities.  She'll miss the array of entertainment we have here in Annapolis.  She'll miss the water.  I'll be facing a whole new life, said she, and I knew what she meant.

Altzheimers pill

We had dinner with old friends a month or two ago before they left for Florida.  The wife doesn't like their new condo in Maryland and wants to move full time to their condo in Fl.  Him, not so much. She has been getting tested at Hopkins for memory loss.  Extensive, yearly testing.  They have her on a new pill which I didn't ask about.

As far as I know, there's no pill for Altzheimers.

She is a little vague and fluttery and loses words.  But damn, don't we all.  She has a prodigious memory for people, grandchildren, grandchildren's boyfriends and where they are going to college, on and on.  Always has that kind of memory.  Would tell stories about what happened to her cleaning woman's second daughter who went to jail.  An interesting memory. A mind stuffed with memories

They are in Florida now, planning to fly to a daughter's home in the Bahamas for Thanksgiving.

I called her and made plans for them to join us for Christmas brunch in Naples.  We will arrive Christmas Eve.

She said that sounded great and to text her about it (Although I don't use that much technology anymore, she said).  To be on the safe side, I texted her husband.   I don't trust that Altzheimers pill.

surprisingly enjoyable

Don't pre-judge I guess is the lesson here. A group of college classmates in the area have started a round robin of lunches at each other's homes.  The first lunch was interesting and pleasant but in retrospect I thought of it as stilted.  I wasn't enthused about going again.

The second one yesterday was a nice surprise.  Perhaps it was the venue.  This second one was well planned by the hostess so we didn't mill around haphazardly.  Rather, she had it all well organized.  Or maybe it was the group, more comfortable with each other.  One woman who came this time had been a very sophisticated element in our class, beautiful, tall and slim with a dark bob. Back then, she favored black turtlenecks. She was still glamorous and beautiful  and now, of course, rich. Her story was somewhat surprising in that her husband had colon cancer at age 60 and her daughter at age 38!  Through testing, a genetic mutation was found that linked the colon cancer and also uterine and ovarian cancer.  Another daughter is planning to have her last child and then a hysterectomy. It was enjoyable and interesting to catch up with her and the others.  The old friend whom I drove  to the luncheon with found out both their grandfathers came from the same small town in Italy.

We have already planned the next event.

One thing that surprised me is that while most travel, none (except one getting knee surgery who didn't come) have places in Florida and most live in the same homes they have mostly always lived in.  This is not a random cross section of seniors.

This group, healthy, well-educated and prosperous, is self-selected.  But not all are healthy and prosperous. A friend whose husband was class president our sophomore year is very overweight and her husband was in federal prison years ago for student loan fraud involving a not for profit college he worked for.  They had an adopted son who was in considerable trouble, also.  People like that tend not to come to class reunions although they stay in touch otherwise.

When adult children don't grow up

An old friend was fuming. Her daughter, an only child and single, lives a lifestyle beyond her means.  I have known this adult child since babyhood;  my friend goes back to our college days.  The daughter was sent to the best private schools, thanks to wealthy grandparents. She was bright but seemed to lack the social skills to maintain appropriate employment.  Dissatisfied with her life, she borrowed money from an aunt (divorced, no kids, well-to-do) to attend an on line liberal arts college with a master's in creative something. Not marketable.  She did school for two years, didn't work and loved it.  Then the time came to turn the degree into a career.  Not much luck.  She is working  at something she enjoys but with a low salary and no benefits.  I think she was born to go straight from school to retirement.

The aunt who lent her money has been asking for repayment.  The niece, entitled, never thought she would have to pay it back since she is in the Aunt's will.  That has strained family relations with my friend stuck in the middle.

Most recently, the daughter asked her parents for money to pay for somewhat optional surgery.  She got the money, never got the surgery.  Don't tell anyone, says my friend.  Where did the money go, I asked? Well, the daughter has a tendency to take international vacations on a whim.  That's part of it, I guess.

But why my friend is fuming is that daughter has now asked her father for more money and he gave it to her without asking my friend, his wife (who would have nixed it).

My friend complains that this money spigot just enables the daughter. What would she do if we weren't around, asked my friend.  I opined that if you have a surfeit of funds that's fine.  But none of us has an extra million just lying around.  We need what we have worked and saved for to pay for who knows what coming down the pike in old age.

Her story is not that unusual.

 I know so many adults - people like us - who are helping adult children financially. One friend, a physician, has propped their youngest son up continuously. Pays for the son's rent, after the son moved out.  This is a son who has lived with them so long, he is now balding. Before moving out. the son told his mother, my friend "Don't think I'm going to take care of you when you get old"  She was so terribly hurt.... Another friend, a widow (her husband was a lawyer) has always supported her son who lives with her. The wonders what will happen to him when she dies.  Another friend, a lawyer, has repeatedly "found" jobs for his son, even bought him and his new wife a McMansion. His wife, my friend, thought the home was "excessive". Ummmm...I'd say so...A million plus....  Son doesn't take much responsibility, my friend is guardian of his daughter (her granddaughter)  from a former liaison.

Another friend married a medical student we knew from school. He was always a creep, and ultimately left her and the kids for a partner in his practice.  Cut off their daughter's college tuition, said she could attend community college.  Their son, the youngest was never mentally right.  After many scrapes with the law, he is a permanent resident with Mom. Moved his heavy metal band into the living room.  I've lost touch with her; I think she is drinking heavily and on Facebook all the time.

It goes on and on....

A lunch with old friends

Old college  friends were coming into town.  My husband made arrangements for lunch - they would come to our home. his assistant confirmed it, I put the date on the calendar and cleared other commitments for that afternoon.

The day before our date, I was out doing errands when I got a frantic phone call from my husband, WHERE ARE YOU?  GET HOME.  I thought maybe the house was on fire.  Nope, just our friends who showed up the day before we expected them.

It was our fault.  We had somehow gotten the date wrong. Ohhhhh, the friends were fine, they just said wait until they tell everyone else we know..... (update: they did.)

I took them to lunch.  A place near us on the river.  Perfect weather.  We sat outside. They raved about the food, the proximity to our home ("Bet you come here all the time!"  UH, no we don't), the view, etc.

They spoke of their recent move to an upscale golf community in (tax-friendly) Delaware not far from the water and how they loved it. Upsizing to a larger home!!  They are golfers and he's a big tennis player.  I know I would not like it.  I hate golf and was lousy tennis player even during my prime.

Take home message: we never appreciate what we have nearby (the restaurant on the water near us), preferring to think others have it better somehow.

upsizing

I am fascinated by lifestyle choices in retirement.  Logically, if one moves, it should be to an area with access to good health facilities and a high "walkability" value.  A friend once suggested we move into Washington DC.  You can afford it, she said.  "I'd do it but I can't afford it".  Well, her choices aren't mine.  She likes going to the theatre, and the variety of cultural and other activities available in a city.  She and the guy she has dated forever are going, going, going all the time.  I'd never venture out, except to walk the dog.

So I enjoyed listening to the retirement choice made by old college friends of my husband. Actually, they retired many years ago, splitting their time between a place in a golf community and their home on Long Island.  Their home was not large, but they had stairs to climb and taxes were high.  They have three children, none of them in New York anymore and decided to come further south to live near their daughter and her family.

Our friends chose an upscale enclave in Delaware, not far from the Indian River.  They are golfers and he has played tennis since he was in college, most recently teaching tennis in Florida  

Delaware is a destination for many people from Maryland.  Low property taxes.  That also translates into low amenities and services.  It's like living in an Anglo compound in India in the days of the Raj, says my husband.  Still, those compounds (in the US) once appealed to my husband.  Golf, tennis, and clubhouse where you tell old war stories, recycling the stories as you lose your memory.  Surrounded by the furnishings of an opulent clubhouse.  Our friends rave about their new 15 million dollar clubhouse and the parties thrown there but golf costs $100 per person and the course is "long".  The community is a weekend community for people with a median age of 48 and a net worth of..... I feel they have been dropped into an alternative universe.  Still, they seem to enjoy it, saying their house is larger than the home they raised their kids in.

Push Yourself

I have a friend who has always pushed her experiences.  Early on, she would take physically challenging courses (hiking, sailing, kayaking) even though she isn't the athletic type. That has gotten her (us) into some binds like the time she suggested we join a group doing an evening kayak tour.  We were the oldest and worst paddlers in the group, leading the group's leaders to scold us somewhat when we paddled in late - waaay after the others.  I'm just glad I didn't go on the hiking trip with her where she had to traverse a high  and rocky part of Great Falls, Va.

When her much older husband died suddenly a decade ago, she waited a year and then joined (re-joined?) her synagogue.  She took courses.  she taught courses.  Most important, she joined J-Date. That is something that takes GUTS.  You have to be ready to face rejection, particularly when you lie about your age (they all do, she says).  After meeting many toads, liars, skinflints and at least one certifiably dangerous man, she met someone she has been with for 7 years.  They see each other on weekends and maintain separate households (her choice and a good one)

She is not a high risk taker, however.  She tends to be cautious about most things.  She thinks in terms of options and probabilities.  Ultimately she pushes herself to experience life, learn and grow.

That's how I found myself at the Baltimore Zoo with her a few weeks ago.  Her idea.  I drove.  She is directionally challenged and even with my Navigator, I had a hard time finding it.  Not the best zoo I've been to but it has some good exhibits and enthusiastic volunteers.  We learned something about bats and african penguins (not that I'll remember it) but it was good to say, Been There, Done That.

Check your insurance policies

I thought I had this stuff straightened out last spring, although the new agent seemed a little dense at the time.  Now it's time for new auto policy charges and guess what?  I took a close look.  Found that they were charging comprehensive and collision on two old cars we drove maybe 2K miles a year.  We should get rid of those cars but they are not worth much if we sell them.  Cancelled comprehensive and collision, saving us about $600 a year. But my joy was short-lived.

Looked at the "discounts" offered and saw that I was eligible for a new car discount last year when I bought my Hyundai in October.  No one told me and now they say I had to ask for the discount when I enrolled the car.  So buyer beware.  Your agent will not flag this stuff for you.

It gets worse.  Our boat insurance was terminated in June.  No notification.  I don't see our umbrella policy listed on this sooper dooper e - account, either.

Just check this stuff once or twice a year. Maybe more if your agent is under-trained or lazy.

Lyme Disease

This is apparently the summer of Lyme Disease.  I had two ticks on me earlier this season - one hard to yank off - and my physician looked at the red itchy spot it left in it's demise and gave me a script for doxycycline.  He doubted I had Lyme but thought ticks can transmit other stuff like staph and strep.  Then yesterday I was walking the dog and ambushed by my 92 year old long-winded neighbor who was pulling out his garbage to the curb. He is lonely, I know, but talks too much.  Some stuff is interesting and someone should record it for posterity (like what he did when WW2 broke out when he was a Freshman in college) but sometimes I just need to walk Zoey and get it done.  Especially in the heat we are experiencing this week.  Turns out my neighbor had two ticks on him recently, too.  One bite on his arm was red from a small tick he found and I urged him to get doxycycline from his doctor.  Then later, after school was out, I dropped off and picked up our granddaughter from her riding lesson. One horse who has been sick and looks sad was just diagnosed with a "raging" case of Lyme, according to her owner and the riding instructor.

Even later (it was a long day), after I took the girls to Menchie's and then to the pool, I had to laugh at the 6 year old obsessing about ticks and tick bites.  When we arrived at the pool she kept asking, is this a tick (a miniscule red dot).  I reassured her she'd see more inflammation.  Funny how kids pick things up from listening and over hearing.  Indeed, I'll probably get in trouble when, after picking up pizza after leaving the pool, I was treated to a litany of curse words I use when driving. She and her sister could recite them all. From me. Oh brother.

Postscript.  I was again ambushed by my neighbor one recent morning, energetically accosting me from his garage. "I've been looking for you" he said.  Twenty two days and I'm off the doxycycline.  thanks to you, I went and insisted on a prescription.  

Back on the path through the woods

It has been more than two years since I walked down our community path through the woods to our marina. The path continues up into an adjacent community and always made a pleasant walk as well as being good exercise.

It has been two years since our big coyote problem.  Last year there were a few sightings, this year so far none. I broke off a big stick when I entered the path with Zoey today.  So many memories....especially of Rebe whom I used to let loose at a certain point down the path.  She would run but also stay close to me or come when I called.  Now I can never do that with Zoey.  I'm still concerned that there might be  coyotes in the area.  A neighbor, an ally in the coyote debacle, told me that during a recent creek restoration project in the gorge between the two community's paths, the contractors said they found a coyote den.  So maybe that activity might have frightened off the coyotes.  Who knows.  I long suspected they had several dens and I think one of the trappers we interviewed indicated as much.

Anyway, it is nice to get more exercise and make the walk more interesting.  

Humiliating

On the phone with one of life's smaller irritants.  Can't log into an online account and I need to update my credit card to keep it active.  The helpful guy on the other end is young and patient.  But even he has his limits.  He tries to get a supervisor to handle my problem but can't find anyone.

Finally he says, um, do you have any other family member at home with you right now?

Like a 13 year old grandson, I ask, knowing what he is getting at.  He thinks all this is my ineptitude.

Finally, after the good part of an hour the problem is resolved. Turns out at least part of my problem was the browser, Mozilla Firefox.  I go to Google chrome and it is resolved.

Meet the Parents

The day was hot and sultry and we had invited our son's girlfriend's parents to our Bay cottage where we would have crabs by the water. We had never met them and the idea was hatched by our son who suggested we also invite our other son and his frisky daughters.  Won't that be awkward, I asked, the girls demand so much attention. We won't really get to talk with the parents..  That's the point, said our son. Her father is a right wing crazy, spouting off at odd moments.  But he's really a nice guy. Yeah. right.We've warned him to stay silent but I don't know if her can, said my son.

Great.

Honestly, the father was OK even if he didn't make eye contact when he spoke and seemed tense and not particularly interested in learning anything about us. I felt pleasant conversation was an effort for him.  I am tired of people like that and I stopped trying to engage him in any conversation. It was a hot, humid day and I'm thinking, tell me,  why am I hosting these people again?  Hey, son, you owe me one.

It gets worse.

Our son's girlfriend (a sweet, sensible woman)  brought her dog with them, a small rescued Norweigan Elkhound mix. The dog is docile but doesn't like other dogs.  Poor Zoey is territorial and usually doesn't like other dogs, either. They were tied up apart from each other while we ate crabs because earlier in the day they got into a brief fight before they were pulled apart..  I wasn't looking but behind me a fierce dogfight erupted.  The girlfriend tried to intervene and was bitten.  A puncture wound which will be the way we will all remember this day. 

The poor girlfriend made light of it but the next day she was in the ER for seven hours with streaks and a swollen arm.  On IV antibiotics and internsive therapy for a week since she is allergic to some antibiotics.

retirement options

I keep thinking about that topic.  Not so much retirement but "aging" which is not static, but an ongoing process of physical and mental decline.  Sorry, but that is reality. We inevitably age and must face the accommodations that are necessary to make us safe and comfortable duing that process.

After her divorce, my sister moved back to our hometown where she still has high school friends and where she can walk to the main street that has shopping and restaurants.  Her condo is pre-war and spacious.  She put a lot of money into making it comfortable and modern.  It's a perfect home for many reasons but it is on the second floor of her building.  No elevator.  What happens when she realizes she can no longer walk up those stairs?  Will she have to face another move when the first one from her home was so difficult and traumatic?

Stairs, accessibility and location are basic elements of "aging in place"
and a stress free retirement.   No stairs, period - unless you are renting and can move in a year.  An open floor plan with universal design, a walk in shower, light switches at wheelchair level - everyone over 50 should consider those accommodations.

Location is a tricky one.  A neighbor who has lived in our community for 24 years lost her husband about 8 years ago.  She keeps saying she will move but cannot decide where.  Her home is comfortable and she has moved her bedroom to the first floor.  She is physically active, mentally adept. "I'll stay here for two more years and then I'm moving near one of my kids", she says.  She has four sons and a daughter and they don't live near each other.  So - which to choose to live near?  And what if life circumstances change and the child moves?  I think of neighbors in Florida who left Florida to be near their children, hated the place they moved to, hated the doctors and didn't see that much of the kids and grandkids, anyway.  Now they are back in Florida, full time. She has a sister nearby in Florida.  That will be her support system, not her kids.  I've noticed more and more that siblings, cousins, etc live near each other when they retire to Florida.  Nothing is guaranteed.  Siblings can get ill or die, move away, too.  It's a fluid stage of life and ironically couldn't come at a worse time when we are sometimes dealing with so much else.

Sleepless in Seattle

We are visiting our daughter in Seattle and it has taken some adaptation.  The mornings and evenings are freezing but the days are hot.  The sun comes up at 4 a.m. No one has ac and lots of people, including our daughter, don't have TV's .  Drives my husband crazy.

The neighbors have chickens in their backyards and hang out their wash. One neighbor with an extra lot is building and organic "farm" He spent close to 700K for the house and land to get what he wanted.  Typically, the yards are so small that you can look down into each other's windows. This is the CITY, not a rural outpost.  Composting of food waste is required or you get a fine.

Our daughter's home is a slow work in progress.  It will be beautiful when it is done but there are rough edges.  Like an unfinished bathroom on the second floor where we slept.  Like a garden that needs rejuvenation.  THAT was fun and our son, who was also visiting, organized a work party to weed and plant the front yard.  We used flowers we can't grow back east, such as delphinium and some familiar ones such as Glowing Embers hydrangea (gorgeous) and Ladys Mantle (an old favorite of mine).  Put in bags and bags of compost but haven't finished.


There are benefits to a Seattle lifestyle.  A walkable in city neighborhood with great restaurants and shops and a real life pharmacy, not a CVS.  Few chains.  A great place for millenials.

No income tax.  But small government comes with stingy services.  Our daughter's water main broke at the street last fall and she had to pay to replace it (several thousand dollars) ll the way to the curb

What you don't know about people

A neighbor who falls in that in between zone between friend and acquaintance ran into my husband while they were both out dog walking recently.  Oh, we'll have to get together she said, what are you doing this weekend?  My husband said she should call me, the designated social planner (although he didn't put it that way).  Which she did.

We met at a neighborhood restaurant we both like.  They were a bit late in arriving and I noticed immediately she was different.  Very "up', very gregarious.  Did she have a drink or two before coming?  Was it possible she was already a bit drunk?

It got worse.  She had maybe a glass or two of wine during dinner and became very uninhibited. She dislikes mutual neighbors, something I long suspected. Frankly, my husband and I feel the same way about these neighbors but for different reasons.

Now, imagine our neighbor, sitting beside me, across from our husbands.  She is sophisticated and well dressed.  Her neighborhood "walking the dog" outfits tend toward Ralph Lauren polo with soft Italian leather loafers. She had a fabulous dress on that that night, maybe designer but I'd never know.. The restaurant is a sedate white table cloth French place, catering to an older crowd.  The French abhor noisy loud Americans - I learned that from a few visits there years ago.  

My friend/neighbor would attract attention solely by her appearance. On this evening, looking fabulous and glamorous, she was loud. She dominated the conversation at our table, getting louder and louder.  At some point she became quasi-incoherent.  I couldn't understand what she was saying.  It was not slurring, just that the words didn't go together coherently, like a psychotic stream-of-consciousness.  She was loud. Guess I already said that.

At one point my friend/neighbor said. What's that woman looking at me for, I'd like to punch her lights out.  I didn't dare look, but I knew the table she was talking about.  Two large and dowdy women were having a special occasion dinner with their husbands.  Surely, they disapproved since my friend was saying f*****g this and that.  And she was gorgeous to boot.

Then, I had to laugh. About the neighbors she hates she said loudly , "She's a f*****g Republican and he's a spy."  I wondered what the dowdy table thought of that bon mot.  Actually, I was more concerned about our very French waitress who seemed chagrined.

In the parking lot my neighbor walked me to the car and said, I've suffered with depression my whole life but this new medicine is terrible.  I've gotta call my psychiatrist tomorrow and change my prescription.

On the way home, perplexed and intrigued, I asked my husband, Do you think he's really a spy?  CIA? Naw, said my husband.

An evening or two later, as I was weeding our front garden in the dimming light, the husband of our loud neighbor walked by with their dog.  I almost never see him. This was an intentional bump-into thing on his part. He stopped, we chatted about everything...upcoming vacations, recent storms in our neighborhood, our dogs, even the delicious meal we had at the French restaurant.  The elephant in the living room was his wife's behavior at dinner. We never discussed that. He lingered too long and I was waiting for an entre but it never came. Surely, I couldn't bring anything up.  As I write this, it strikes me, I should call her.  She is in some kind of distress.  But I hesitate.

Then, before this blog post was finished, she called me. Apologized. No need to say that,  I said, we had fun and we have all have had those experiences. Maybe it was drug interaction or dehydration said she. Amen. Smart that she called.

Indignities great and small

A friend's husband has had MS for at least 6 years. At home, he is in a wheelchair with a part time aide assisting his wife.  Hopkins provides treatment, sometimes experimental.  He had some spasticity so they inserted a pump to loosen his muscles.  Now he is in a rehab center, trying to build up muscle loss due to lack of activity.

My friend called and said she'd like to get in a few days at their beach house; could I go over to the rehab center and feed him his lunch one day this week.  Sure, I said but I dreaded it. Feeding a grown man the way you would a baby. Embarrassing for both of us.

I went over today, interrupting an OT session done on his legs in his bed. He was dressed only in underwear, looking frail and vulnerable, and I sat down and averted my eyes.  I was relieved when the therapist finished the session and covered him up.

He seemed comfortable where he was but apparently  it hadn't always been that way. Initially he was in a double room where the roommate watched TV all night (Food channel) and kept the lights on to boot. Incredibly inconsiderate.  Fortunately our friend's his wife complained and pushed for more than a week until our friend was placed in a single room.  You have to be a strong advocate - or have one fight for you.

This friend still has a sharp mind.  He worked for NSA and told me Snowden was a Russian spy.  Had proof.  Snowden was bought when he was a NSA contractor, says our friend who is despite the MS, very level headed. Sounds plausible and rather fascinating.  So you give and then you get.  Life is a continual learning process.

Animal stories

My cleaning woman was surprised Zoey remembered her after we returned from Florida. Then she told me the story of the mule from her country, Guatemala.  This mule was owned by a man who sold her to another man from El Salvador, 3 hours by car away.  A year later, the mule is back in the first owners yard, emaciated and with marks on her from when she had been tied up.  The mule had escaped and amazingly was able to walk back to Guatemala.  The second owner tracked her down and wanted her back. No way said the first owner, I'll give you the money back.  She belongs here.

My neighbor across the street has a very small yappy show dog.  He told me the story of a rabbit in his yard.  His back yard is fenced . He walked out there one day with his little dog and there is a rabbit.  The rabbit panicked and ran into a corner and tried to get over the fence.  She tried and tried and then she fell over panting. Then she died. Of fright.  It was a sad story but rather amazing. An animal literally dying of fright.

Our silly dog

When our dog Rebe had to be put to sleep, my grief had no boundaries, tied up as it was with guilt for not doing enough and yet doing too much..  I still have so much  "reactivated trauma" thinking about her that last winter of her life  two years ago that I have to shut out the memories.

Three months after Rebe died, we had a new dog, Zoey, found by my neighbor in the Pets For Adoption section of the local newspaper.  I had mentioned to this neighbor that we were thinking of getting another dog. It seemed too soon but my grief needed a distraction.

So into our lives came Zoey.  She is a character.  I'd look at her at first and feel a little sad thinking we are her whole life and yet she doesn't know I can't ever love her as much as I loved Rebe. But now I do.

Two years now we've had Zoey and, really, she is a sweet companion, smart and silly.  Rebe never barked.  Maybe 5 times I heard her bark and it was a strange deep unnatural sound. Zoey barks, cries and whines and actually that's a good thing.  She barks at strangers coming to the door.  She has another kind of greeting bark for people she knows.  She whines and cries when she sees a strange animal outside.

Unlike Rebe, she has only known kindness in her life. 

When my husband comes home from work she gets excited, barks and runs out to greet him.  Then, later I will be reading on our sofa upstairs.  My husband will join me and flip on the TV. That's when Zoey hops up between us and crawls into my lap like a puppy.  Then she rolls over in my arms, a big 40 lb baby. She is actually jealous of our interaction.  It is hilarious to see this grown dog curled up in my arms, demanding attention.

Dogs are so transparent.  But their emotions run deep.

Catastrophising

Maybe the spelling is wrong but here's the point.  Some people wring their hands when something bad happens, catastrophizing and driving themselves crazy  and people think, OK it's bad. It's a crisis.  What do I do?  What's the next step toward a solution?

My husband falls into the first category.  Yesterday after a particularly bad storm, a tree in our yard was uprooted and fell -smashed actually- into my daylily beds.  Just as the daylilies are starting to bloom! 

When trees are vertical, they don't look that big but when they fall they can be suddenly monstrous.  This tree was a monster, smashing even another tree.

I looked out the window at 6 :30 am and saw the damage.  Then I told my husband who became distraught.   He paced and catastrophized not just about the large tree uprooted and covering our yard but about everything bad that has ever happened to us, as if trees falling aren't an event that periodically just happens to everyone.  Frankly, I looked at us as lucky. The tree didn't fall on our house or car. It could have been much worse. Plus, maybe my daylilies would get more sun next year.  There's always tomorrow as the song goes.

I immediately made a list of the tree people who had done work for us in the past. My husband kept whining.   Called  three companies by 7 a.m. Got the voice mail for 2 companies and the sleepy voice of the wife of  one company owner.  She said "Mike" would be right over.  He came around 9 with three massive trucks and four men. By this time my husband was off to work, leaving this to me to handle..

The tree guys got to work and cut up the tree, shoved the wood into a grinder on the truck in an hour. The charge was reasonable and I even had a bonus. A big bonus.

I have been trying to get the guy who owns the cottage next to ours in Southern Maryland to cut branches off his massive and aging Tulip Poplar.  That would be a true disaster if a branch fell from about 60 feet up on our little cottage.  But the tree company needed his permission which he never bothered to give.  I had called repeatedly the neighbor. Always voice mail.  So I called  him again while the chain saws buzzed in the background.  Got his wife.  She said, put them on.  So I put Mike on and she gave permission to cut the branches on the Tulip Poplar.  I said I could meet him at the cottage that afternoon but he said he'd see he had to deal with the emergencies first. Now that Tulip Poplar is a true emergency in the making.....Forewarned is forearmed.

Frustrated

An hour wasted. I'm sooo OCD. Why did I keep trying. Circular solutions.  Can't access my old retiredladychronicles blog account on this new computer. Can't add, can't correct.  I set this new one up as Part 2 reluctantly. Lets see if it works even. Damn damn damn.