The 11th Hour

I’m writing this awfully close to the 11th hour before posting so I really procrastinated on this one. Do you want to hear my excuse? You do? Well, I’m sorry but I simply don’t have time to go into that right now. The pressure’s on so I’ll jump right in.

A couple weeks ago I wrote about my introduction to wearing contacts. But Kaiser Permanente was out of the ones I need. Therefore, I went home with enough for just 4 days until more arrive, whenever that will be. So I had to decide which precious 4 days I wanted to wear contacts. Decisions, decisions.

I waited a couple days and in the interim I forgot the trick for putting contacts onto my eyeballs. I’m fairly sure there’s a trick to it. And I also forgot which way the contact should sit on my finger to show it’s not inverted and therefore might feel like sand embedded in my cornea. To tell the truth, it looked the same to me no matter how I flipped it.

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Lessons Learned

So Monday I’m driving in the rain, tending to the usual feral cat stuff. And even though my blog runs on Sundays, I started thinking about my next topic. It’s never too early to plan, especially since I’m a last minute kinda gal. (Sometimes I’m writing at midnight Saturday night.) So I’m thinking and I’m thinking. But…

I got nothin again

Now don’t get me wrong; I knew something would come to me (and probably Saturday around midnight). But then, there ya go. Just like that, something came to me. And here it is:

Monday’s weather was weird. Rain one minute, sunny the next. Surprisingly, I actually remembered to bring my raincoat. For my last errand, I headed to Home Depot for tin garbage cans to store excess cat food since rodents have discovered my garage is a culinary gold mine.

Home Depot

The garbage cans were outside in the garden section but the lids sat on a top shelf. (Naturally.) So to reach them, I placed my purse on the lid of one can and used another can to hoist myself up to grab the lids. I thought, okay, now I’m outta here. Except my purse was gone. It had slid into a can where 3 inches of rain water sat waiting to soak my Baggallini .

wet purse

The evidence

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I Can See Clearly Now

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.

Where’s the magnifying glass?
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Be Careful What You Wish For

It appears nothing interesting happened this week so I posted this blog from 2018 out of desperation…

I’m driving along, again wondering what I should blog about this week. What can I write that you might want to read? So I thought, I wish something interesting would happen so I don’t resort to posting a previous blog out of desperation. Word of advice:

be careful what you wish for

Recently I’ve undergone some procedures: a bone scan for oldies like me, a pap smear, mammogram…all the fun stuff. So I’m getting my pap when the doctor says, “I see you have osteoporosis.” What? Appears my bone scan showed I’d graduated from soft bones to full-fledged-about-to-crumble-bones.

Oh the joys of being short, small-boned and Caucasian (risk factors for osteoporosis).

Then the next day I had a mammogram even though, as I’m pushing 63, they suggest doing it every 2-3 years. They can suggest all they want; I get one every year.

better safe than sorry

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Witchy Women

A couple weeks ago I found myself shopping for witch hats. One can’t attend a witches Halloween party without a proper witchy hat, can one? And what better day to blog about witches than on Halloween?

One witchy hat

Now that Sharon and Jim are back in California (after a way-too-long stint in Texas and Australia), she decided to throw a First Annual Witches and Wine Party. And if anyone knows how to throw a party it’s Sharon. She’s a mix between Martha Stewart and Joanna Gaines…an excellent cook and a talented decorator.

The hostess and me

Friday night, 19 of us gathered at Sharon’s Santa Rosa home to be bewitched, so to speak. Some of us met in high school, so have been friends for 46 years. We still have a strong connection, which I think is a rare thing. How lucky are we?

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