I’ve had the same family room furniture for what feels like forever. Granted, I have a horrendous memory, but the sofa, easy chair, and ottoman are like old friends who have overstayed their welcome and now it’s time to say goodbye. Hum…I wonder why they’re called easy chairs, or ottomans, for that matter? But I digress…
Old furnitureSame here
I believe my Broyhill furniture could very likely be the winner of who produces items meant to last longer than we actually want them to. When my fridge and dryer died WAY before their time, I wasn’t a happy camper. But when my family room furniture ran its course, it didn’t have the decency to fall apart.
So 10 months ago, I had my roof re-shingled and in doing so, they had to remove my DIRECTV dish. According to my roofers, DIRECTV put it in the wrong spot. Odd how the dish has worked nicely for the last 20 years in the wrong spot.
Anyway, apparently it became damaged when they removed it, so I contacted DIRECTV for a new one. After 20 years on their protection plan, I rarely needed them. I can think of many other things I’d rather have spent that $2400 on. But now that I’m off the plan, what do you bet next month the whole system crashes? Oh well…
Summer is my favorite time of year, not just for the nice warm weather, vacations, and lots of time outside, but for the abundance of scrumptious fruit available to us in California. I’m a fruit freak. If you opened my fridge today, you’d wonder how many people live with me. (That would be zero.) But I can’t help it. I’m a stocker. I stock up on things, just like my mom did.
I enjoy most fruit but some I simply tolerate, like grapefruit and papaya. Also, I can take or leave kiwi. Now don’t get me wrong; I have nothing super negative to say about those fruits, other than they’re boring. To me they’re not in the same ballpark as cherries or watermelon. And while we’re at it, throw in blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries.
Now don’t get me wrong; I realize it’s shocking to lead with that, especially since this is supposed to be a humor blog and death isn’t funny. Spoiler alert: there will be a happy ending. Sort of.
It started 3 days before my birthday when I called Vicki to see whether her doctor contacted her with test results from the previous week. At 64, she’s lived most of her life with debilitating obsessive-compulsive disorder, is developmentally and physically disabled and now has a muscle condition forcing her to use a walker. Life has not been particularly kind to Vicki.
Me, brother Bill and Vicki at Tahoe circa 1960
Vicki sleeps late and doesn’t have a cell phone or computer. I can only contact her via her home phone. She often can’t reach it before it goes to voicemail so I leave a message and hope she calls me back. But this time she didn’t. I figured she’s probably out getting dinner and will call me later. But no.Continue reading →
If you haven’t yet reached the age where you’re referred to as ma’am or sir, this posting will mean nothing to you so feel free to go about your day. Or, on second thought, read this so you’ll educate yourself as to what awaits when you wake up one day and realize you’re officially a senior, aka long in the tooth, past your prime, seasoned…
Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not like I just entered this realm. In the US, people are considered seniors once they reach age 62. So I’ve already had four years of experience being old. And like anything, there’s good and bad in that.
First the good: A senior gets discounts at movie theaters and on certain days at some grocery stores — not particularly exciting when you consider the trade-off. But qualifying for Medicare and Social Security makes it tolerable. Another aging perk is that men take pity on me, sometimes offering to carry heavy items to my car. Little do they know I can manage on my own. But why spoil their feel good moment and tell them?
Now the bad: Well, how much time do you have? Just kidding. I bet you think aches and pains are front and center. Actually I’m lucky there. I try to keep in shape, work out, play tennis, blah, blah, blah. So once I’m up and moving, I’m good to go.
What’s hardest for me is going blind. Well, not actually blind but sometimes it feels that way. Sad to say, this is a normal aspect of aging. Things started getting blurry in my mid 40s when I couldn’t read the fine print in the phone book anymore. Yes, for you youngsters, there were once phone books.
Now Don't Get Me Wrong 