Some days, not so much

Yesterday was not a particularly great day.

First, Mable, Millie, Peaches, Penny and Florence went on the lam late last week and have been under house arrest.  I've been watching them for several days... it appears Florence may have actually gotten away during the escape...or, M&M and P&P have her trapped up in the coop, because I've not seen her for days. However, I suspect she did get away, because she learned early on how to get on the other side of the creek.  I never saw her do it, but have seen her walking 'mongst the bed of clover and having a high old time.  But, yesterday it occurred to me if she is trapped in the coop, without food and water...well, enough said about that.  Things are not looking up for my fine, feathered fowl.

Second, I had to finish watering the front yard flower gardens and potted plants.  Try as I might, I simply can't keep on a ten minute per area time schedule, and I end up drowning one area, and skipping another all together.  Adding to the pain...I got my water bill.  Ouch, ouch, ouch.  By the way, it's not so much the water part of the bill that's painful.  It's the sewer charges (paying off millions of dollars in new construction) covering open water reservoirs (to ward off vandalism and terrorism attacks)  and finally on site and off site rain water run off. 

Finally, thirdly, (and speaking of water) my kitchen water faucet has been leaking every time I turn it on for months.  I've been living with it because I don't want to spend money on a plumber, also I've been wondering if I could replace the faucet myself...and, do I really want to attempt that? 

I guess a plumber will be coming.  Up to now the water had just been running along the rim of the sink...then yesterday afternoon I discovered it was also running under the sink as well.  How do I know this?  Why of course, a riverlet of water running across my kitchen floor.  %$&&*#@$%%##%!

Oh my, what a mess.  Once again I had to haul everything out from under the sink, dry everything off and put everything back.  I tell ya...I wanted to scream.  I've put a wash basin under there to collect any dripping water, and now use the faucet at a trickle rather than full force until a plumber can come and fix the problem. 

I tell ya, sometimes life can be a real b---h!  On the other hand, these kinds of days are great fodder for my blog.  Plus, I can hope that maybe Florence will return, maybe it will rain and I can put my hoses away til spring, maybe the faucet leak will magically go away before I have to spend money on it. 

I know!  I'm going to go look for my rose colored glasses, they've got to be here somewhere.

Me:  "Frankie, when is the last time you saw my....."

Discoveries

Something terrifying occurred to me this morning...I'm on the downhill side to 80.  How can that be possible?  I've decided I don't like that very much...no, not very much indeed.  If there's is one thing that can cause a panic attack it's knowing 80 is not too many twists and turns down the road.  Aaaaaaaaahhhhh!

Which is why, also, this morning...when I discovered I can still see the world through the eyes of a child, full of wonder, excitement and awe I was thrilled beyond measure.

Here's a few examples.  I have learned this year how acorns grow on an oak tree. (I swear I did not know.)  First, I thought they only appeared on 'mighty' ones, mature, aged, like me.  Well, surprise!  They grow on young ones, too.  How do I know this?  Apparently some years ago a squirrel buried an acorn in my front yard garden, and some time later a seedling appeared.  Common sense told me it would be a mistake to let a 'mighty' oak grow in my tiny yard, and I probably should have yanked it out of the ground.  I could not.  So, for some years I have been trimming and pruning it, trying to keep it below 'wire level', so that in case some winter, under the weight of ice and snow the wires will not snap.  Anyway, last summer I saw an occasional immature acorn on the ground beneath my oak, but every time I inspected the tree I found no trace from where they had come.  It was quite a quandary.  This year the acorns are back.  There are many, many of the them.
 
Guess what?  I thought acorns grew at the base of a leaf...they do not.  They grow along the branches.  Sometimes singly, sometimes in a small cluster.  I was
fascinated.  What a marvel...I can't wait for my neighborhood squirrels to discover them.

Then, yesterday I mentioned on facebook that my gardener had put me into a real 'snit'.  Having been a little under the weather, I paid no attention at all to what he was doing on his Wednesday visit, and frankly didn't care.  Then, yesterday, I threw open the drapes in the morning room...and I saw...oh yes, I saw what he had done.  He had butchered the shrubs...literally...butchered them...it was more than obvious he gave no care to his work at all.  They were crooked, some spots higher than others, there were weird indentations here and there.  I was appalled.  I was too tired to do anything at the time of discovery except be mad.  But later in the afternoon, the fester was getting really bad and I took my trimming tools and with hope in my heart began to salvage his botched job.  As I was working the second shrub, I realized I had no choice but to whack it down to my shoulder length.  And whack I did.  There were four branches left.  That was when I discovered a strange looking object hanging from one of the branches.  Something was jiggling loose in the back of my memory bank.  I had seen this object before.  It was the nest of a Bushtit.

Now I know you are supposed to leave bird nests alone, and I probably would have, even though I have quite a collection of all things nature...I am after all a modern day Henry David Thoreau.  But, I had no choice, the nest was attached to a branch I had to remove, plus, I'm sure my gardener never would have seen it, nor cared a twit about it, I, on the other hand did care more than a twit, so I carefully  removed it from the branch. And...brought it and the nest into the house to add to my collection.  Naughty, me.

The nest is nine inches long, and four inches at the widest point.  The Bushtit bird is a mere 3 to 4 inches in length.  The nest itself is mostly downy stuff and moss, and very intricately made.  I'm enclosing a picture, here.

Anyway, Isn't nature wonderful? And is the gist of this blog.  I may be getting older, I may have wrinkles, I may even hobble a bit when I first stand up,  I may even get in Old Woman 'snits' from time to time.  But I'm young at heart, and things still delight, surprise, amaze, and bring me joy.  Lots, and lots of joy.  I still examine bugs, and wonder how acorns grow, and in spring will take a key from a maple tree, take my thumb and peal it apart and stick it to my nose to charm my grandchildren who have never been taught to do that.  I will hold a dandelion flower under their chin to see if they like butter and put a snake skin in a jar to show that snakes do shed. 

 

So, no matter how old I get, through the eyes of a child, I will continue to marvel at sunlight, and moonlight, and firefly light, too.  I'll collect bird nests, and their eggs that don't hatch...and autumn leaves and spring flowers.  I'll still try to catch Snowflakes on my tongue, and suck on an icicle, too.

 

Thoreau once said something to the effect, that man spends his day only seeing what he chooses.  Ah, but it's the man who looks, that really sees, and learns something from every sighting.

Oh, dear...what can the matter be?

I don't have a lot of energy today, nor the desire to do anything at all.  I had a bad bout with some bad salad, that knocked me off my 'tukus'.

Of course, at the first sign of feeling squeamish, I think I'm having a heart attack. And I wait for other symptoms to materialize.  Numbness, shortness of breath, pain.  When they don't happen, I eventually come to understand something else is afoot.

Without going into detail, I'll just say that I didn't get a lot of sleep Tuesday night.  Wednesday was spent, munching saltine crackers, drinking a ton of water, and sipping on mugs full of canned chicken noodle soup.  Also, I spent a lot of time on the sofa watching television. 

I'm pleased to report I slept pretty well last night.  The house was in lock-down by nine and I was under the covers by 9:30.  I had full intentions of watching TV till the news was over, but managed to fall asleep immediately, waking briefly to turn off the television around 2:45.

I'd like to report I woke this morning full of spunk...but that is not the case.  However, I am up...and moving around...and that in itself is accomplishment enough for now.  I'm going to fix myself a cup of coffee, and we'll see where that takes me.

Dang it!

So, I was watching TV this morning, and I happened to see a commercial from one of the leading brands of toilet tissue.  Only they were not advertising the softness of the tissue itself, but something new "Adult wipes".  Oh, yeah, there they were in a mall (I think) getting people to take the wipes with them to the Ladies Lounges, to give them a try.

These women emerged from the lounges, all happy, grinning ear to ear, sooo
delighted they had discovered the secret to feeling fresh, and smelling good.

They were asked if they would they carry these miraculous things in their purses and would they use them on a regular basis?  Ohhhhh, the wonderful words they had for these newly invented moist, pieces of paper mixed with whatever they are mixed with.  Platitudes abounded.

I suppose I should have been as amazed as all the women who tried this product for the first time.  I was not.

You know how you have said to yourself over the years.  "Well, there goes MY million dollar idea down the drain?  Well, guess what, for more years than I can remember I've been using Baby Wipes to do exactly the same thing.  Granted, I'm sure my baby wipes don't smell as pretty as the famous name brand toilet tissue wipes do...but MY wipes do exactly the same thing, and I'm sure for a lot less money. 

Anyway, if only, all those years ago I'd have send off letters to all those companies that line all those shelves, in all those grocery stores, with all those toilet tissues, and told them I had an idea that could make them and me a bazillion dollars.  I could be traveling around in my own Lear Jet by now. 

Dang it!

...true confessions.

I don't know about you, but I have irrational stuff that scare me.  And since today is my birthday, I'm going to confess some of them to you...a kind of 'letting go' kind of thing, although I know I won't because I've had these fears for as long as I can remember, and I know they will go to the grave with me.

I'm afraid of pop-corn.  I almost choked to death on that horrible brown stuff that clings to each kernel, and I've not been able to put another popped kernel in my mouth since.  That was one damn scary moment.

There are some cloud formations that frighten me silly.  Not the big, white, puffy kind that my imagination can make look like butterflies and bunnies.  But the angry, black-y, brown-y, grey-ie, kind that hover barely above the tree tops.  The way they roll about, I swear they could swallow me up.  Sometimes they have a hue to them that make me think the devil resides in them.

Then, there's water.  Oh, my goodness.  I've forever had a love/hate relationship with water, not good old tap water of course, but the uncontrollable rushing flood water, and angry sea waves pummeling the shore line kind.  I had relatives that had a cottage on a dam while I was growing up, and we would occasionally go there.  (It had an Outhouse, that at night, we would have to take a flashlight to go visit.  It smelled awful....but that's a whole other story.)  Point is, when we went there, we were automatically expected to:  1. Go for a boat ride.  A.  Swim in the water.  OMG, OMG, OMG.  1. The boat ride was always terrifying, how deep was this dam, anyway.  And, A. Inching my way off the land into the water to go for a dip was just plain gross.  First there were rocks, then there was mud and heaven knows what swimming and crawling around in there, and finally...there was no bottom.  Picture me retreating to the shore...I was done, man.  I had fulfilled my obligation.

I'm afraid of the dark.  Not the inside, the locked house dark...(unless a storm has cut off the power), but the outside, (must I really go out there) kind.  Mostly because I have always had horrible depth perception, and have a hard time...well, perceiving depth.  Oh the ankles I've turned, and the steps I've stumbled on.  Plus, you never know what is lurking just beyond your vision, is Big Foot, out there, somewhere.

One of the things that scares me the most, is when I feel a fainting spell coming on.  I can feel myself losing control as slowly, my peripheral vision begins to turn black and  close in.  My breathing begins to shallow, I get light headed...I once walked straight into a wall and fell.  My mom had the same affliction.  I learned from her to carry a small bottle of 'smelling salts' in my purse, also, to head for the freezer department in stores; putting my wrists on some frozen food always helped 'bring me around'.

I fear fire trucks (but not firemen), snakes, peeping-Toms, escalators, lightening, thunder, falling, breaking a hip, and getting to old to do stuff I really, really, really like to do.  I'm sure I could probably continue this list till the cows come home, but I've already told you w-a-a-a-y more than you ever wanted to know about me in the first place so, I'm gonna wish myself a very Happy Birthday, and set about enjoying my day. 

I've had one heck of a good life...and it's been one hell of a ride.  Hope your life is and gonna be the same.

Time and time again

They're at it again.  I don't know what comes over my furry, four legged, friends, but every once in a while they go through a phase where they think they are going to be in charge of when we get up.

This morning light was barely seeping through my years old drapes when CC jumps onto my chest, waking me out of a sound sleep.  (I pretend I'm not disturbed, and lie very, very still).  She gives her familiar, friendly growl and begins to knead on the blanket inching closer and closer to my face until at last one of her paws (by accident-HA!) hits flesh, and I wince in pain.  Dang her! 

Of course by now Zorro has been disturbed and is trying to find his way out from under the blankets.  Some mornings that takes quite a while, unless I help.  This morning I'm annoyed enough I let him work it out for himself. 

CC has settled in, Zorro is stretching and yawning.  I ignore him, too.

After a while he comes to grips with the fact I'm not getting up and he reluctantly nestles close to my face.

I pretend I'm still asleep.  Although I know I'm eventually going to have to move, when my leg cramp becomes sooo bad, the pain is about to take off the top of my head. 

I move, of course that annoys CC who growls again and in a snit leaves the bed.  Zorro paws on my exposed arm.  Dang it.

I'm not getting up, I'm not getting up, I'm not.  It is only 5:30.  I roll over on my left side and feign sleep. 

This nonsense goes on until 5:50.  I'm starting to get exhausted and I'm not even out of bed yet.  Aaaarrrrgggguuuuhhhhh!

Okay, okay, I know I'm a bad parent, I give in and get up.  I should be in charge, I'm not, at least not this morning.   Maybe tomorrow I'll have more spunk, patience, and all around resolve.  I will throw the blankets up over my head and firmly tell my furry friends: "I'M NOT GETTING UP TILL 7 O'CLOCK...DEAL WITH IT."

Of course, I have to deal with Frankie, too.  She's about due for an 'up and at 'em'
day.  Yep, just about the time I get CC and Zorro back on track, Frankie's gonna'
want to get up early. 

Shuck-y darn.

Brrrrrring, brrrrrring, brrrrrring

I've noticed I'm getting a lot of calls again from solicitors, organizations, and people wanting me to complete a survey. 

What the heck?  I'm registered with the National No Call List, so how can this be happening?

I've been ignoring them, but some numbers (Zeeland MI, 800 Service) have become very, very insistent over the last several months so that I pick up the phone simply to request they take me off their list.  Yeah, like they are really going to do that.

Anyway, here's what I've discovered.

Sometimes when I pick up, there is no one on the line, the line goes dead, and I get the disconnect beeps.

Occasionally, when there is no one on the line, I say "hello", and like magic...I get a response.  These people talk fast, but as soon as I can get a word in I'm so angry I'm afraid I'm not very polite.  Even though I know this is somebodies job, that they don't even like, but have because they don't want to be on welfare, I cannot help but be testy with them.

There are times someone immediately starts to speak, and it takes some seconds for me to discover it is a recorded message, and I used to immediately hang up.  However, I've discovered that if you listen to the end you get a menu that will give you the option to be taken off the call list. I always take this option...but I know they never do, because the calls keep coming.  This is especially true with the calls I get from the Security Medical Alert people who promise me the system has already been paid for, all they need is my address so they can ship it to me.  Press 5 to be deleted from receiving calls from us.  (How many times must I press 5?)

But, the calls I hate the most...those dirty buggers...are the ones that go to my answering machine that I have to listen to...all the way to the end...before my company will allow me to delete them from my phone.  Grrrrr.

This last week I've gotten two calls from some company telling me they can reduce my credit card interest rate.  They try to scare me...this is their second notice...don't I realize they have my best interest at heart...they are the only ones capable of helping me.  Now, I know this is a scam, and I do not respond, and I really wish the National No Call List actually worked, unfortunately it does not.  But, I worry about folks older than I (and I'm no spring chicken any more) who can be intimidated enough to give these strangers their important information. 

But back to the Security/Medical Alert people.  Now, don't get me wrong, I like the idea of a medical alert system, I think about getting one for myself from time to time.  Maybe some day I will actually order one.  The point is I will order it from a well know company, that I have thoroughly researched.  I don't need some jerk's well rehearsed recording telling me what to do. 

In the meantime, I guess I have to put up with all these nuisance calls, because modern technology seems to be staying one step ahead of me...and that no good National No Call List.

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