This morning as I was walking down to the other end of the four-plex to take my trash to the dumpster, I noticed that my three neighbors have clear windows.
All my windows, except for the French doors that were put in a year ago this month, are always covered in condensation and I can’t see out of them.
I’ve complained about this and they said they’d see what they can do. Well, send the maintenance man around to look at them. Replace them. Do something.
I’ve even offered to possibly pay for my living room window to be replaced if they will agree to take it out of my rent. It would certainly cost more than a month’s rent because I got an estimate several years ago.
Aggravating. What good are windows if you can’t even see out them?
Okay, my rant of the day is over.
I think I’ve watched Vera so much I’m starting to sound like her. If I forget myself and call someone “pet” or “love” I’ll know there needs to be an intervention of some variety.
I’m almost through the second series now. Last night I watched the one where the man is knifed and tossed over the bridge and falls onto a big semi. Then ends up freezing to death up there as the driver continues another 300 miles.
I allow myself one episode per night to stretch them out longer because I’m very fond of Vera. I know some of you find her irritating. But some people are just plain irritating. If I had to be around people much I’d sound worse than Vera.
Twice this morning already I’ve had to fish one of Ivy’s swirly toys out from under a file cabinet in the closet I call Ivy’s closet, because her litter box and various things are in there.
She’s tried to lure me there a third time and I’m putting her off. She has lots of swirly toys and she can wait a bit.
I’m beginning to wonder if she isn’t putting them under there on purpose. But why would she do that? There’s just no figuring Ivy out. The things she does is often just incomprehensible.
I’ve found myself missing Marley the last few days; thought so much about things we can do together.
She lives with her dad in his little town outside Tulsa Saturday through Wednesday, because she and her big brother go to school there. People who live in Tulsa tend to put their children in private school. This is the alternative and where her dad is from.
So that doesn’t leave me a lot of time since she’s in school during the week and on weekends at her dad’s. So I’m very much looking forward to summer. They seem to go on quite a few vacations with their dad’s parents, so I’ll have to work around that.
Maybe spring break, if they aren’t traveling, I can pay her to help me clean up the patio. I’m getting to the point, with all my old injuries and subsequent arthritis, to not be able to do what I could when I first moved to this place.
Before I could rush through cutting off dead stems and putting all the debris into lawn bags and to tote off to the trash in just an hour or so. I could have my patio clean and ready for planting in one afternoon.
I’ve slowed down in my sixties. Or rather my body has forced me to slow down.
At lunch Friday my daughters talked about how much coffee it takes them to get going in the mornings. I tend to drink a cup, but I don’t need it for the caffeine intake. I don’t need it to wake me up and get me going.
When I was young I was a whirling dervish running instead of walking and getting a lot of things done in a short amount of time. My brain still wants to do that but my body is throwing a cog in the wheels.
I didn’t even start drinking coffee until my fifties, and only then because I liked the way it tasted. And when I do drink it it’s mostly decaf or I’d be spinning like a top.
It’s sad when our brains are raring to go, chugging right along down the railroad tracks, and our bodies are stuck at the crossing with the automated arm down to stop cars.
Then you end up going to doctors more because your parts don’t want to work. And sit in waiting rooms with other aging bodies looking slyly out the corner of your eye to see how you hold up to the others in your midst.
“Oh come on now, pet, you know you do,” says my doppelganger Vera Stanhope.
Laughter keeps you young because it relieves tension. Did you know that when it comes to keeping you healthy, laughter is right up there with a nutritious diet and exercise?
Maybe it gives you laugh lines but who cares about that? They’re the best kind of lines.
You don’t stop laughing when you grow old, you grow old when you stop laughing. – George Bernard Shaw