Chapter 4 Selling house

I'm the  kind of person if you ask me to do something, I will probably go to and hang on to the end of a rope for you.  Tell me to do something, and I have a serious problem with that.  My back bone stiffens like an icicle, becomes brittle and can snap like a tiny twig.

So, when my wonderful Realtor asked me to, over the last several days, I've been paring down.  Each room getting more and more sparse, pictures gone, stuffed animals gone, nick-knacks gone.  I've been lumping things together into drawers so I have empty ones to shove things into.  (It is too early to do serious packing, I'll do that if we actually get a serious offer, and papers have been signed.) So, at the moment small jewelry boxes are now in a drawer designed for my summer tees and shorts.  Things from my kitchen shelf and counter are now nestled next to vitamins in another drawer, pictures are stacked on top of one another in the bed-room closet.  Honest, I've been working hard at clearing things up to make the place more presentable.

Then, yesterday I got a feed back from one of the Realtor's who showed the house on Thursday.  When I opened the door and saw the Swanky Realtor and equally Swanky Client, my heart and mind went Uh-oh.

They were here less than 10 minutes...that tells you something, right?

Anyway, here is what she said in her feedback report..."The flow of the home and use of space is very personal and tailored to the seller, and will take a buyer who can see through it, or needs lots of separation of space. (What, they are the rooms that came with the house...I had nothing to do with that.)"  

Now, don't get me wrong, she is right, I've been here 38 years, but I've been working hard...really hard at shaping the place up, and I admit I took offense to this statement.  In my mind she had said..."This house is full of crappy, old lady stuff everywhere, and will never, ever sell."


Man, I stiffened like the above mentioned icicle, the hair on the nape of my neck not only stood up, but curled over.  How dare she...can she not see how hard I've been working at this, while trying to fill orders, and continue to live a normal life at the same time.  Screw you lady, screw you.

I  pouted, I fumed, I drove Frankie crazy.  

Breathe, Sandra, breathe.

So there I was at mid-night paring down again.  Cramming stuff together, puufff, puufff, puufff.  The place is beginning to look  like a new born Blue Jay.  I look around, and wonder have I done enough now?  Is there more I could and should do?  I think I'm doing okay.  My garage on the other hand looks like crap.  It always had a neat though cluttered look, but I have it divided into temporary rooms that serve my purposes nicely.  There's my laundry room, tool room, shelves with gardening supplies, and of course my Harem room that is filling  up with neatly labeled boxes.  It's re-dick-u-less.  

Oh, no!  Here it comes...giggles.  I'm doomed I tell ya, doomed.  It's all so silly, what the hell am I doing...shouldn't I be on a beach somewhere, or walking the streets of Paris with a handsome young fellow  escorting me about.  Shoot, I'd even settle for an old guy with one foot in the grave...provided he had millions of bucks about to come my way.

And...this grand adventure continues...I'm having a ball...and guess what?

Shhhh, this is a secret.

I love my uncluttered house.

Shhhhhhhh!

Booo!

So...I'm standing at the kitchen counter, a jar of Hazelnut coffee creamer in one hand, and Mocha in the other, the ecru crystals slowly dissolving into the hot black liquid.  My mind a be-jillion miles away.

Frankie:  "Do you have any idea how bad that stuff is for you?"

I have to jump high to grab my skin and retrieve it .  Where the heck did she come from?

Me:  "Don't care."
Frankie:  "Science is probably on the way to prove those crystals are nothing but cancer causing garbage, and every morning you're heaping that stuff in your coffee."
Me:  "Again, don't care."

She's been in a dither over this coffee creamer thing ever since I've also started pouring it into my occasional evening soft drink.  Honestly, I don't do this to upset her, (well maybe a little) but because I like it.  I don't do drugs, I don't drink, I don't smoke.

Me:  "Surely I'm entitled to one tiny vice."

Frankie:  "Grrrrr!"

The sound comes from deep within her throat, and frankly, Frankie, kind of scared me.  I stop stirring my concoction for a second, maybe is should dump this down the drain.

Wait a minute...who's in charge here?  Me, or my delightful alter ego.  I love her dearly, and obviously she has a great deal more sense than I, so for that one second I really did contemplate dumping that coffee down the drain.  Then I continue stirring.

Me:  "Growl all you want, still don't care."  I tapped the spoon against the side of the mug just to aggravate her more.

Frankie sighs, turns, and leaves the room.

I finish making my coffee, let the dog out...and in...then head for my office.

There I find Frankie, her back is to me; she's playing with my Spellbinder...dang it...she knows I need to use it today.  She turns, grinning ear to ear.

Frankie:  "You've got your little vice, I've got mine."
Me:  "Grrrrrr!"

Chapter 3, Selling House.

Okay, I have to admit, today I'm kind of weepy.  It's been a hectic two weeks.  I've been working on orders, meeting with my Realtor, making small changes to the place hoping to make it more salable, cleaning up the yard, and oh, did I mention working on orders.

Don't get my wrong, I am having a wonderful, learning, exciting adventure except this morning, for some reason, I feel at the edge of tears.  I guess it is a little bit relief, a little bit acceptance, and a lot of fright.  After all, I'm no spring chicken any more, and I've lived here for 38 years, I suppose it should not be surprising my body would finally say,  "Hey, old lady, slow down, what the heck are you doing going down the freeway at a hundred miles an hour."

I think what I'm feeling today is the sweet pleasure that the scariest part of this adventure is over, and that a  new chapter starts today.  This is now all in the hands of destiny, I have built it...I have to hope they 'will' come.  The house is already on the net, with pictures inside and out, the sign goes up later this week, hopefully by Friday, and I have my disclosure statement filled and ready to return to Doug.  Whew, no wonder moisture lurks just behind my eye lids.

So, I think I will allow myself to feel the way I do today, get it out of my system...and move on.  Like the little song goes,  "Que sera, sera;  Whatever will be, will be;  The future's not ours to see;  que sera, sera;
WHAT WILL BE WILL BE.

Chapter 2, Selling house

My Realtor is coming again today.  (Insert long pause here.)

So many things are racing through my head this morning.  What is he going to tell me?  What kind of changes am I going to have to accept (even though I may not want to) in order to make the place more sale-able?  I'm sure I'll be told to take down the Rogues Gallery that has been up on the living room wall.  It's been there forever, and has grown and 'tightened up' over the years to accommodate new pictures as babies were born and friends and family from across our great nation have come to visit.  It will be the most strange change of all.  I already know I'm NOT going to like that.

I wish you all could see it.  There are pictures of the girls we hosted when we had adopted daughters through  a Foreign Exchange Program.  My children, and my grand children, unfortunately, the great-grand children have all been framed, simply because I don't want people to get down on their hands and knees to see their pictures.

There are cousins, too, and nieces and nephews as well.  The two young ladies that I used to do day-care for, that still come to see me to play wild games of Canasta have a place there,  too.  Everyone who comes to visit is fascinated by this colorful display of happy, smiling faces.  There is Paul's extended family, and mine, we showed no favorites, for a while I tried to keep everyone as 'family units', but it got to a point that was no longer possible so now it is kind of potpourri, friend here, cousin there, aunt next to a grand-child.

Often I'm asked "Who's this?"  The picture will probably be a far away friend this person may never have the opportunity to meet, but I've always a story to tell about some experience I had with this or that person and we end up in laughter.  How wonderful our brains are triggered to remember the good rather than the bad times.

Sigh.  (Insert long pause here.)

I suppose while my place is on the market this treasure will get tucked under my bed, the only place big enough to conceal it.  I'm sorry everybody, you are all more worthy than my dust-bunny hide-e-hole.  I promise you will be restored to a place of prominence and honor once my feet land where ever that happens to be.

Sigh.  (Another long pause.)

I hope it does not take too long.

I can always tell...

...when I'm close to losing it.  How?  I feel the giggles coming from deep within my chest.  It's like when I scream in the midst of a horrible dream loud enough to wake myself up, and I get into the throws of giggles I cannot control, leading to loud laughter that fills the whole house.

I think I wrote before how I scared the crap out of Zorro and Frankie one night with such laughter and how I promised I would try to control myself on a much better scale next time.  Of course, we all know I will not be able to do that.

This morning, remembering the absurdity of a new incident has brought on this particular fit of giggles.

It happened the other night just as I was between conscious and unconsciousness.  I had one of those awful, searing, leg cramps that brought me back to reality.  I knew if I made noise, Frankie and Zorro would become quite afraid, so quietly as I could I threw my leg straight up into the air, and started to rub.  Oh, talk about pain...worse than any labor pain I ever had, and rubbing only made it worse.

Unfortunately, this is the exact time CC decided she needed to curl up on my tummy; so, I tried to hold her at bay, rub my leg, and not scream all at the same time.  I've mentioned before I'm not good at multitasking anymore, and remembered a friend once mentioned to me it helps to, stand up, I decided to throw caution to the wind and do that.

I threw off the covers and leaped to the floor, CC ran for cover.  (Admit it, you have to admire that all the while, I tried to stay quiet.)  (Although in my head I'm screaming my lungs out.)  However, leaping to floor, was a bad idea, very, very bad idea.  The weight I put on the bum leg only intensified the pain.  I decided I could either throw myself forward, onto the floor or backward onto the bed.  It was dark, the floor did not seem like a good option, I fell backward, hoping the bed was still where it was supposed to be.

Thankfully, it was.  But CC returned.  There I was prone, right leg straight up in the air, ouch, ouch, ouch.  CC very demanding, wanted on my tummy now.  I just wanted to stop the pain.  So far I'd been able to keep Zorro and Frankie from entering this horrible picture, but I didn't know how much longer I could hold out.  I gave up and eeked out a moan, Zorro stirred but did not wake. Thankfully, Frankie was not aroused.

I wish I could have a picture of the next few minutes.  My leg was in the air, stiff and straight...turning in either direction only increased the pain, so I lie as still as possible; except for flexing my foot up and down, which seemed to help.  There was a furry, purring, mass on my stomach, a sleeping dog at my side, and me, wishing I was dead.  Will this night never end?

The pain began to subside.

I don't know exactly how long it took...it seemed like forever...the pain finally ceased and sweet sleep came.

Let me tell you this, next time that miserable cramp comes, I'm gonna' scream loud...and long...I will not only wake Zorro and Frankie, but the whole neighborhood, maybe even the dead.

No lie, friends and family, no lie.

Whew....

...I survived yesterday.

I was sooo close to a panic attack, breathe, breathe, breathe.  Then, my Realtor arrived.  I immediately recognized him from the Kingdom Hall Larraine attends, and immediately  felt at ease.  We shook hands, talked a few minutes about faith, friends in common, and slowly walked into the house.

He took off his suit jacket, draped it over the back of one of my dinette chairs, and announced he usually likes to sit at a table to work.  I pulled out a chair and sat.

He pulled out two notebooks, neither fat, unkempt or ugly, rather, they were neat, nicely labeled, and no more than an inch thick.  Wow, I thought, maybe this is not going to be as complicated a transaction as I expect.

He was so patient...quiet speaking...and tolerant of my house selling ignorance.  I was totally at ease.  He asked a million questions about the house, and he seemed quite surprised I have lived here for 38 years.  Eventually we walked through the house, he took lots of pictures, and was quite impressed with my morning and sun rooms.  Finally, we walked around the outside of the house and he took more pictures.  After two hours, we shook hands again, and made arrangements to meet next Monday at noon.

I'm excited now rather than fearful, not that nasty anxiety won't rear it's ugly head again.  I think this time I will yell out BOOOOOO, and see if I can turn the tables on that lurking creature.

I-Ching today had it right on the money this morning when the very first sentence said. "Things are returning to normal after yesterday's wild emotional ride. "  Dang how does it do that?  It may not be the Lord that writes my daily message, but I think maybe my guardian angel does.  I give thanks every day.  Between Frankie, Zorro, CC and my angel, I'm gonna' get through this adventure.


Stay tune  folks.

It's time for...

a leap of faith.

How many times have I said this over my life time, not many, and those that I did on the grand scale of things, certainly were small compared to those facing serious illness, loss of job, and emotional battles every day.  Still, I have had a few.

I took a huge leap of faith when I discovered I was not nursing material, and had no clue what career choices I had since I had wanted to be a nurse the whole time I was growing up.  And, I had no skills to speak of, so landing a job seemed impossible, still I closed my eyes and jumped.  Of all things, it turned out I had a knack for advertising.  Thank you, God.

The next leap was the one I took when I moved to California with a one way ticket, three suit cases, a carry on bag and to the penny one hundred-thirty-eight dollars in my purse.  Thank goodness I was young, eager, and ready for a grand adventure.  I landed safely in the arms of God.

Then of course there was the one I took when Bonnie was born, and I was an un-wed mother, out of work, and scared out of my wits wondering how I was going to make this work.  It did, again, thanks to God, and although we were edging on poor, we had a lovely roof over our heads, food for on the table and clothes on our backs.  It was a lovely, delightful time.

And, of course, marriage, was another biggie, at the time 50% of them failed, but I took the leap and my vows serious enough that I knew I would make it work come heck or high water...it did.  Although, honestly, the last several miles of that road were, long, sad and extremely difficult.  I was thankful to have come from good, strong, stock and rode out that leap thanks to the Almighty.

Now it seems, I'm about to take another one.  Really, this is big.  I'm putting the house I've been living in for thirty-eight years up for sale.  A Realtor is coming at noon today to talk about a plan to put it on the market.  I'm scared sh..l..s, and anxiety is lurking behind every door, I'm trying to hold it at bay.  Yesterday my niece asked me if I was ready for this new adventure.  No.  Yes.  Maybe.  I don't know.  So, here I am one more time standing at the ledge.  I look across the abyss.  Oh my, I can't even see the ground below and the other side seem sooo far away.  Scary stuff this, but I'm going to take a deep breath at  'High Noon', and jump.  I'll let you know when I land on the other side.

Sorry, Mr. Almighty, I weigh a bit more now, and my running start sure isn't what it used to be, so if you see me clinging to the edge, please pull me up.  Thanks.

Did you ever...

...watch the sun do go down; or the moon come up.  I'm sure we all have and many times to be sure.  But, have you ever watched the morning star disappear?

I have, and I was reminded of that experience this morning as I saw the last star twinkling in the baby blue  sky.  It happened several years ago as I was going through my Henry David Thoreau period.  In which I was going to write a greater nature journal than all of his put together.  Yeah, right.

However, during that time I did discover many intricate natural mysteries in the tiny corner of my wildlife neighborhood.  I studied insects, birds, animals, moss, mushrooms, lichen, wildflowers, weeds and grasses.  One notebook grew into six.  I drew pictures, collected feathers, bird nests, dried flowers and leaves.  As it were, I left no stone un-turned...literally.

So it was one morning, I happened to be outside exploring and I looked to discover a bright star (probably one of the planets...but maybe just a star) and realized I had never thought about the fact there could be a night time feature (except for the moon) visible during the day.  I stood transfixed wondering how it came to  be there so long after daylight.

I also wondered if I could see it disappear and made up my mind I was going to stand guard over this star until it was gone from sight.  Minutes ticked by, I was afraid if I blinked I would miss it, and tried very hard not to.  Soon the star began to show signs of actual twinkling, as though some breeze in the atmosphere had come between me and it.  I sensed it was about to be snuffed out.

Still I watched...waited.

Finally, I knew the sun must be just about to crest the mountain, and when it did, I knew the star would be gone.  I didn't want it to go.  The star began to lose it's sparkle, and there would be a nano-second, when I thought it was gone...only to have it a nano-second in sight.  I like to think an Angel was trying to blow it out, and in an instant she succeeded; the star was gone.  I have fond memories of that morning.  It was cool, the air was clean and refreshing, my dogs were wandering around close by, and I had just experienced a precious miracle.

Some day I hope you get to see the morning star, go to sleep for the day.  Think about it,  just because we don't see them for half the day...they are still there...now, isn't that a miracle.

Another...

thing they never tell you.

At the end of my last Bible study, some how the subject of getting old came up (I think because I told them about my 'surprise luncheon') and I mentioned some of the things I've already posted here about getting old and we all had a good laugh over them.

Then, Polly, who is also a senior, said, "You know what I don't like about getting old?  Crepe paper skin."

"What the heck is that?"  I inquire.

She holds up her arm, gives a little twist and low and behold...crepe paper skin.

I gasp, hold out my own arm, give a little twist, and...there is was crepe paper skin.  How in the world did I never notice this. No matter how I twisted, turned, pushed, or pulled, there it was, like a  fresh roll of crepe paper in the party supply store...crepe paper.  I kind of wished I could flair my skin out on the sides like you do with a roll of the stuff at a party, but I knew I was stuck with this affliction.

And, then, of course there are the veins on the backs of your hands...giggle, giggle, mine are a lovely shade of  blue, and there are MANY.  The thing that gets me is, when I was younger I was able to put my hands up in the air, and they would disappear, and my hands for a brief second would look twenty again.  Today....not so much...in fact, no matter what I do with my hands, there they are.  Tiny blue rivers.  Baaaa, haaaa, haaaa.  I watch them with great fascination, realizing with out their diligent work, I'd be a goner.  For sure!!!!!!!

I remember my mom telling me how she used to sit with her grand mother and play with the veins on the back of her hands.  Pushing them around.  Pinching at them.  Stopping the flow.  Somehow that seems like such a delightful, peaceful,  private, loving time.  Hope some day one of my grand children discover mine and we can have moments like that, too.

Anyway, today's blog is just another entry into the mystical, magical world of getting old.  I used to hate this process, now...geeze... crepe paper skin, who knew....what an adventure...I love it.

It's wonderful

Yesterday we had our family picnic.

Several things made it the most wonderful of experiences.

Good food,
Lots of laughter,
Great weather,
Smiling faces,
Remembrances,
and Little children.

It's hard to imagine sometimes just how luck I am.  Not only have I been fortunate to see my grandchildren grow up into fine, smart, caring, loving individuals (I'm still allowed to hug them).  But another generation has started.  Great-grand-kids.  You should have seen them yesterday.  Bonnie's Rachael, and Michelle's kids decided they had to bake...Alexis, with Rachael in tow, came out with a box of cake mix and asked Michelle what the instructions were to make cupcakes.  After clearing up the fact the recipe was the same for cupcakes as it was for a cake, Bonnie told them to go ahead until it came time to turn on the oven.  I've never seen such joyful faces.

Truth be told, I stayed outside...too many cooks spoil the soup, you know.

However, I was present when it came time to start spreading the icing around.

The kitchen smelled delicious.  And forty eager, dirty fingers participated in the icing process.  I announced I could hardly wait, I desperately wanted one of those cupcakes.

Suddenly, there at my right shoulder was a tiny, smiling, mussed haired little girl, and in her hand was a slightly lopsidedly iced cupcake.  A heaven sent angel, what a blessing.

The whole afternoon was filled with all kinds of little snippets we so often take for granted.

Children running through sprinklers
Full tummies
Excessive sweets
Screams of delight followed by giggles
Warm summer breezes
Pine cone battles
Hugs, hugs, hugs
Cupcakes

I forgot to take my camera, and I would give anything to have pictures of those darling children messing up the kitchen, but then again my brain's camera already has them mounted in it photo album, so as they say today...It's all good.

Let me say again...I'm so very blessed...and the bestest part of the day...the grand child, great-grand children's cupcakes.  I wish everyone I know could have tasted them, they were the most delicious I've ever eaten.

Thank you Bonnie and Ted...t'was a day to remember in history.

I love you family, you are the best.

So...

...it's been quite a week.

Much has been happening, I'm in the process of completing a good sized card order, trying to get permanent cards made for every picture in the catalog so I can more quickly fill orders, and contemplating a web-site I hope to have operational by the first of the year.  Am I nuts?  Am I to old for all of this?

Plus, I have daily stuff going on and that takes up quite a bit of my time as well.  Some nights I'm still happily sitting at my computer at 2 AM.  Time flies when you are having fun.  I've no time for unexplained ailments.

I can see how easy it is for Seniors to become hypochondriacal, and can now understand why a doctor will simply supply a new pill for the ailment and send the patient home.  I came up with an unknown ailment myself this week.  I've been feeling that I might have a fever and feel, hot, hot, hot.  Is it the weather?  So this morning I thought it was probably time to take my temperature.  (After all today is the family picnic and I don't want to spread germs around.)

I whip out my thermometer, it comes to life and I shove it under my tongue.  Pretty soon it beeps and I check out the digital numbers.  98.6.  Hmmm.

I'm pondering aloud what this new ailment could be, when Frankie takes her nose out of our newest magazine and asks, "When was the last time you took your hormone pills?"

Me:  "I don't remember."
Frankie: So?????????
Me:  "Well, damn."

I race to the draw holding the two bottle with the miracle cure, withdraw the tiny white and orange pills and down them with a few gulps of water.

It is so easy when you know you are in inches of the 'Great Donation', to imagine every tiny ache, pain, unusual anomaly to be the incident that actually takes you there.  Holding it at bay is, frankly, not easy sometimes.

I'm blessed to have Frankie, my voice of reason, this morning she truly did talk me off the edge.

We both are still chuckling over the simplistic answer to my new hypochondriacal ailment.

Have a good day folks, I'm off to a picnic.

 

"For Pete's sake....

...what's going on here?"

Yes, those were Frankie's first words when she sauntered into the living room.  She found me sitting on the floor surrounded by paper in various sizes, decorations, clutter, and a funny looking little, pink, machine.

She hunkered down and began to pick up fancy rectangles, fluted squares with a bunch of holes in them, and  eight and a half by eleven sheets of paper with a pretty picture frame holes in them.

"Don't you remember," I inquire, "I told you I spent Karen's birthday gift to buy a Spellbinder...this is it, it arrived just a little while ago."

"Oh, yeah, I remember.  Geeze, another toy, where are you going to put it?"  Frankie asked.

Deary me, I had not thought of that.  She has a good point, the office is already packed to the gills. It was bigger than I thought (but what did I expect, it does accommodate a standard sheet of paper)...and I was surprised at how heavy it was, it has to be in order to stay steady as I roll the 'sandwich' through it.  Where was I going to store this?

"I'll worry about that later..."

...I stack together another necessary 'step' to make the machine work 'sandwich' and announce "Watch this."

Slick as a rolling pin, the sandwich rolls through the machine coming out on the other side.  I hastily unmake the 'sandwich', and produce another fancy design. It's curled, swirled, and fancy as all get out.  My mind boggles, I have to learn how to incorporate these beauties into my cards. And, can't wait to get started.

Frankie, on the other hand has lost interest.  I think she pictures herself being moved down the ladder of importance in my life.  She starts to rise.

"Frankie."

I get a disgruntled "Yeah?"

"You want to play with this?"

Her face brightens, and she moves into my spot.  As I left the room she was putting together her first 'sandwich'.  I could tell, she was hooked.

Oh my,

I awoke this morning and felt a panic attack coming...man, I hate that.  I can't breathe, and the harder I try to fill my lungs, the harder it becomes.

My first thought is to simply lie in bed and 'wallow', I don't even know about what, but I figure what the heck maybe I'll let this attack will push me over the edge, but thinking about what's over the edge is more scary than the moment I'm in; so, I take as deep a breath as I can muster.  Zorro feels me stir, and is immediately, and literally in my face.
 
Ah ha, a reason to get out of bed.  Soon CC is there as well.  Another reason for me to put my feet on the floor.  I tell myself to think about something, anything to take my mind off myself and on to something constructive and up-lifting.  Work is good.  So I begin my daily routine.  I think today that is going to be a struggle.  But, I refuse to let this, this, disabling condition control my life.

So, I'm up, the creatures have been fed, I have a cup of coffee, I'm at my computer and about to start work.  Life is good, life is good, life is good.  

I just remembered...

one of the conversations we had at lunch last week.

One of the girl's asked how old I was going to be and when I told her she was amazed I have so few facial (as compared to the rest of my wilting body) wrinkles.  What did I use to keep them at bay.  I mentioned St Ives Apricot Scrub.  I've been using it for years, and love it, those little apricot granules are sooo invigorating.  I can feel the dead skin cells float away.

However, the conversation changed again, so I didn't get to go into my whole routine...you however are not as luck, my friend.  Frankie is always telling me that Vanity's name is 'Sandra' and I can say she is absolutely right.

First, I try to never...ever...be without make-up.  Really, 24-7, ladies, 24-7.  The only time it comes off is when I shower or bathe.  First I use tissues to take off as much of the old make-up as I can.  Then, I use an astringent to remove the rest and cleanse the skin. It's called Sea Breeze and I've been using this particular brand since I was a teenager, it was great for keeping pimples away.  

Then I step into the shower, this is where the apricot scrub comes in.  It is so refreshing.  By the way,  I never use cake soap of any kind on my face or body.  And the liquid body soap I do use is St Ives Creamy Vanilla.  Smells delicious.

After this, I head to my vanity table and pull out a mixture of tubes, jars, bottles, etc.  Not everything I use is St Ives, because over the years I've learned what's best of me, so I share my wealth with various companies.  Such as, Cody, Maybelline, CoverGirl, Wet n' Wild, but start my routine with Neutrogena Firming Cream.  DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NO ALLOW THIS STUFF TO GET INTO YOUR EYES.  I did (once) it caused burning of the eyes, tearing, and a runny nose that challenged the water flowing over Niagara Falls.  I had blurry vision for about 20 minutes.

Anyway...things gradually progress, Foundation, airspun, loose powder, eyebrow pencil, eyeliner pencil, another dose of loose powder, eye shadow (some with sparkles...I do love sparklies), mascara and finally a blush I blend myself.  Whew, you tired?

You might be wondering how long this takes...ladies...take a seat...cause, it does take a while. I am a constant course of amusement to Frankie, who prefers the 'natural' look.  I tell her listen up...laugh long and loud if you want...as long as I can make out my face in the magnifying side of my mirror I'm going to keep up my vanity ritual.

Wrinkles, wrinkles stay away,
Van-i-ty keeps you at bay.

So there.

And so begins...

another trek around the golden orb of life.

If I had to describe last year with one word it would be 'reborn'.  Not with the religious connotation usually connected with this word.  But, literally, reborn.


The illnesses I felt late last year affected me greatly.  I was scared, lonely, lost, full of doubts, but mostly I was scared; I thought I was going to die.  I really, really did.  The medical community was worthless, and I discovered that for the most part they tend to believe old people are 'throw away', and although they were never rude or unkind to me I felt I was not really 'time worthy'.  I was most thankful when I finally got the help I needed and started down the road to recovery.

Trust me the road was long, v-e-r-y dark, and scary as heck.

Then came the miracle.  (I know, I know, I know) you are sick of hearing this...but it's true...I discovered the  ancient I-Ching Oracle.  Peace filled me, I regained hope, discovered excitement, looked, really looked at the beauty around me.  I started to become reclusive...and I liked it...no, loved it.  I began to center on me, something I'd never done my entire life.  There was joy, joy, joy...down in my heart...as the little song goes.

I don't think I've become 'self-centered' by any stretch of the imagination.  But, my imagination has blossomed. It's amazing, I can't wait to see what the each day has in store.  Could be good, could be 'not so much' I always hope for good.

I think it would be safe to say I've become child-like, I look at bugs, and watch tree branches gently bow in the breeze.  I have an imaginary friend, my alter ego, who I held at bay because I refused to answer her knock on my door...I love you Frankie.  But, most of all I stay busy every single day, not work, like dust furniture, or vacuum, but work at life and that requires no labor at all.  Life is a slice of your favorite piece of pie...don't waste time savoring it...gulp it down and move on to the second.

Life is short dear friends...gulp down every second, don't let them quietly slip by. TICK, TICK, TICK.

So, here I am, starting around the golden orb of life again.  Stay turned folks I think it's going to be quite the ride.

I....I....I....

...I'm seldom rendered wordless, but here's what happened.

A week ago, my next door neighbor, Teresa and I made plans to got to our favorite, off the beaten path, hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant in Lake Oswego.  She had a 2-fer coupon.  I was looking forward to it.

So, yesterday I 'dolled' myself up, and come eleven-thirty we take off.  Conversation is light and airy, talking about this and that...you know stuff.

Arriving at El Ranchito, Teresa says, "Table for two, Peterson."

Hmmm.

I thought that was odd, we had never made reservations before, and there were plenty of vacant tables at the front, but the Host, walked us by them and seated us at the very back of the place.  Actually, all the times we've been there I thought this area was part of the kitchen.  We sit.  I look around and we discuss the fact we didn't realize this was part of the seating area.  To my right is a long table to accommodate a group of 8.

Hmmm.

We pa-rouse the menu, they bring us chips and salsa, we talk about the funny names they have for their Margaritas and decide, what the heck, we've a 2-fer and have one each.  I chose blackberry, Teresa chose strawberry.  More delightful conversation.

No one seems in much of a hurry, someone would come check on us, then announce, "Oh, I'll be right back."  And disappear.  What the heck?

Hmmm.

Sometime later, one of the employees (I realize now they were all kind of hovering at length) appeared.  I think I said I was ready to order.  She...is grinning ear to ear.  Then, right behind her I see four faces, very, very familiar faces.  I...I...I...was rendered wordless...they were the faces of my friends and neighbors.

Grinning ear to ear they were delighted they had managed to pull off my birthday celebration in complete secret, I on the other hand gave a quick thought of running out of the place catching a bus and retreating to the sanctuary of my home.  They all know I dislike...no, even hate a fuss over my birthday.  It's like when I'm sick...just leave me alone.  Birthdays mean I'm one year closer to the big donation...and I don't want to think about it, talk about it, and most certainly celebrate it.  How depressing is that?  I've too much left to do and don't want a reminder I might not have enough time.

Somehow I maintained my composure. I think I must give credit to I-Ching, and because I read it first thing every morning, so I was pre-warned something might be up, because it said something to the effect, I should be kind, accepting of things that could happen, and to be gracious and humble.  How the heck does I-Ching do that?  I'm amazed how their messages are 99.9% insightful, and helpful.

I confess the afternoon was a pure delight, and if memory serves it was the first surprise party I've ever had...honestly, I don't remember having another.  There were eight of us in all, and now that my mouth can actually utter words again, I want all of you to know how blessed I am to live with such a wonderful group of women.  Thank you ladies for your kindness and thoughtfulness they are much appreciated.

And, here's a special thanks to Teresa, who not only pulled this off, but got the restaurant to play their part so well.

I had no idea everyone was so good at keeping secrets.

P.S.  On the way home, we saw a deer, it crossed the road right in front of us, beautiful present.  Then, we saw a sign, "Free yellow plums, help yourself"  Teresa turned the car around, we went back, and she climbed the freestanding ladder and picked enough for us to share.  They are a delicious present.

I think I like surprise parties.

Okay...

this does not qualify under 'things they never tell you' cause I've know this since I was a kid, but I guess I didn't think these two things would ever happen to me.

I've got...

I've got...

I've got those age related brown spots...Yes, friends my hands and arms are beginning to look like I'm covered in a beige to sepia colored polka-dot clown outfit.  Man, they sure sneaked on me.  They didn't happen all at once like freckles, but one by one, I think mostly while I sleep.  I tell ya, what with saggy arms and wrinkly skin the last thing I need is a bunch of large, medium and small age spots cluttering up my skin.  It's down right ridiculous.  I wonder what kind of picture I could make if I tried to connect all the dots?  Baaa, haaa, haaa.  I think maybe some day if I have nothing better to do I just might try connecting them.  Wow, talk about body art.

Then of course there are my legs, there's a WHOLE other issue going on there.

I've got...

I've got...

Varicose Veins.  A bunch of miniature, red, river-lets meandering hither and yon, here and there...they've got a beginning...then come to an abrupt end for no apparent reason...I love the days I can wear shorts.  I press my thumb against them, and for a second or two they disappear.  Then in some sort of magical gush, Da-Da they re-appear exactly as they were.  A few years back I saw an ad in a catalog stating, that rubbing vitamin K cream over them, would make them fade and gradually go away.  Baaa, haaa, haaa.  (Would any of you like to sell me the Brooklyn Bridge, or some swamp property in Florida?)  I rubbed and rubbed the cream in, day after weary day...I even bought two tubes of the darn stuff, 'just in case'.  Nothing happened...well my money did go down the tubes...did I really expect more?  Actually I did.

Anyway, here I am, almost 75, and I'm finding growing old is a lot more fun than I thought it was going to be.  Seriously, sometimes I get to giggling about all my misadventures (losing things, finding things in odd places, trying to turn on the TV with my phone, forgetting why I went into a room).  I like laughing about all I've learned about my body getting old, marvel at what might be coming next, and excitedly wait for and expect the unexpected.  Who could ask for more?

So, next time we meet, I won't care if you look at my hands and arms with their age spots, sag and wrinkles or even if you glance down to inspect my miniature, red, river-lets...it's all good.  Besides, who's else is going be truthful and tell you of all the things to expect when you are about to turn 75?

It's gotta' be me.