Mom Won’t Waste Food

Every Easter I dye hard-boiled eggs and because I love the colour to be super deep, I leave them in the dye for two or three hours.  Then they sit in a basket for a few days and then get thrown out.  Not at mom’s though as under no circumstances will she waste food.

So no-one should’ve been surprised to find out mom had eaten two of them a week after they were made.  Luke said the next day she told him they were slimy, but she rinsed them off and they tasted fine, so down the old hatch with the eggs.  Naturally she vomited all night long and was completely weak and sick for several days afterward.

The scary part was her inability to find the right words, but after a few days of that she regained her ability to speak and is now right as rain.  Every time she gets very sick she demands I phone the doctor’s office and get the doctor to order MAID (Medical Assistance in Dying) for her, and just like last time she told me to cancel the appointment as she’s feeling fine.

Given her hearty nature, I can’t imagine the doctor actually ordering MAID, but who knows.  I do as I’m told, even if the request is particularly out of the norm, yet most are really normal, thereby demonstrating her mind is sharp.  Today she reminded me to bring perennials from my garden to replace those that had died in hers.

And speaking of gardens, please never buy rudbeckia (common name black-eyed Susan) as just like variegated ground cover, mint, or forget-me-nots, you’re going to have it for the rest of your life and in every garden bed you own.  For years I ignored it as I’m a very lazy person so thought hey, that’s nice, I don’t have to do anything as these things plant themselves.  But now I have to dig and dig and dig to get it out of all the beds I allowed it to roam into.

As you may recall I was on the Liberal executive for five years, and thought that’s enough of event-planning and retired from it.  Yet one of the cagey fellow Liberal board members had me over for lunch and after a preamble asked if I’d be interested in doing events organization for the Kelowna Citizens for a New Performing Arts Centre Society.

Alice is on the board, and apparently in a meeting the topic of events came up and she said hey I have the perfect person.  Long story short, I’m now the events planner for this newly-formed society which hopes to raise 100 million dollars for a new performing arts centre to replace the old Kelowna Community Theatre.

But why not, as God knows some of my best memories come from plays such as Oh Calcutta! which I saw in London and was pretty outré for a twenty-something girl from Osoyoos.  The whole thing was performed in the nude which was very chi chi in those days.  Never mind my joy at seeing plays in Boston, New York and Vancouver.

I’ll be in Osoyoos this weekend for Mother’s Day and will be making a nice lunch and we’re hoping James and Julie will attend as is tradition.  With Liz and Liza gone they enjoy reminiscing with us.  The only fear will be when I drive home the next day and the wonder of what leftovers will be sitting out for X number of days precipitating another call for MAID.

Easter Confusion

Nick and his little family came to Osoyoos to have lunch on Easter Sunday, and the topic of what Easter means came up.  Neither Luke nor Nick had a clue, and wondered.  They said is it when Jesus was born?  I said no, it’s when he died.  Luke said I thought Christmas was when he died, and I said no, that’s when he was born.

It seems almost incomprehensible that two kids, ages 32 and 35, with quite decent IQ’s would never have understood the significance of either Christmas or Easter.  I said to Luke at your gramma Gen’s, we’d have birthday crackers and hats at Christmas to celebrate Jesus’ birth.  Oh well.

Most of the weekend went well except for one small skirmish whereby mom had to verbally attack a waitress at the Diamond Steak and Seafood House.  The waitress was one of those competent, self-confidence types who likes to call all customers ‘hon’, which is fine with me but to mom is like waving a red flag in front of a bull.

When the bill arrived mom explained she didn’t wish to be called hon and resented it.  The waitress was excellent, recognizing she had a severely old person here, given we entered at a snail’s pace with the walker which became a major obstacle to all who tried to pass.  So she rolled with the punches and just said she was sorry about that, and Luke and I said nothing because what can you say about a crabby 97-year-old?

Mom and I went out for a nice drive on Sunday afternoon to look at various areas of the town to see how development has affected the poor place.  It’s always amazing to see the amount of land taken out of the Agricultural Land Reserve for subdivisions.  I guess the town’s planners are banking on food coming from California for the rest of our days.

Where the farms haven’t been taken out of the ALR many have converted to grape-growing, which is another puzzle as to how that’s agriculture.  But maybe we’ll end up like the Ruskies, and have our grocery shelves empty of food, and where they have gallons of vodka in times of severe food shortages, we’d be able to forget our troubles with gallons of red and white wines.

I’ve embarked on a new project for mom’s vast collection of books.  Most were bought and read by my dad, so there’s a lot of World War 2 history, and many 60-year-old books in that teensy print that seemed to be okay back then, but now we don’t like that small font, probably due to being very lazy and so we want reading to be easy.

As a result, every two weeks I take a couple of dozen off the shelf, and then replace them with books under 20 years old, within a wide range of categories.  In a year I should have each book replaced and then people will want to grab one off the shelf and read it.  Very few people are interested in the life and times of Hermann Goering.

Certainly the next time I’m in thrift with Elsa I’ll peruse the religious section and try to find books with which to enlighten the children with the meaning of the holidays we’ve celebrated for our entire lives.  I may have to throw in a couple of books about Judaism and Islam and as Jan’s a Buddhist, perhaps one or two of those, too.  In any case, it can’t hurt and perhaps will lessen holiday confusion.

A Wedding and Two Funerals

I’ve now attended three significant events at my brother’s house on Whonnock Lake in Maple Ridge in the past ten years.  First, my niece Julie’s wedding, almost ten years ago, and then in quick succession a memorial for Freddie almost two years ago followed by one last week for Twig.  I could have called this post A Wedding and Two Memorials but it loses its punch.

Jan had a nightmarish experience and wasn’t able to open her PCR test results so had to miss her planned flight to Thailand, so she was heartbroken, but re-booked it all, leaving a week later.  She was flying from Kelowna so Luke dropped her off in his truck, parked here, and we drove in my Jetta to Maple Ridge.

I love the turbo charge, but less when Luke’s driving as I don’t like him going “look, we easily made that corner at 110 and the sign says 70!”  Sometimes I just closed my eyes as I could imagine the pain of being smacked by the air bags as they deploy.  But it was all for nothing as we arrived safe and sound at 12:30.

The event began at 2:00 and the girls had rented a large tent, same as for the other two events, but added heaters due to the time of year, and had organized catering and had masses of alcoholic beverages.  Everyone was invited to take one of Twig’s teacups as they didn’t want them, plus they said it’d be a great way to “have a cup of tea with Twig.”

I, being a trained shark from thrift, picked up an Aynsley turquoise blue cup and saucer with a fruit theme.  I came home and Googled it and see it’s worth around $262.  I felt extremely proud, but don’t they say after 10,000 hours of something a person becomes an expert?  I’m pretty sure Elsa and I have done that amount of time over the years.

The girls, Twig’s brother and Freddie’s best friend Stu all spoke about Twig, and Jason had made a beautiful slideshow of her life.  It was lovely to see them all in days gone by, but horribly sad as Freddie and Twig were both just 74 when they died which is quite young these days.  We’ll miss them, that’s for sure.

When we were driving down Luke said he was dead tired because he and Jan had gotten up at 4:00 AM in Osoyoos because she was catching the plane in Kelowna that morning.  I said well that’s good as then maybe we can leave at a decent hour, like 9:00.  At Freddie’s memorial I went to bed at midnight, and the rah rahing outside went on until dawn so I really didn’t want that given Luke and I had to drive to Julie’s house to sleep.

At 9:00 Luke was swilling beer, laughing and talking, having a ball and I was standing looking at him the way the dogs do when we visit somewhere and they figure it’s time to go home.  He looked at me and said “I know what you’re thinking.”  I did manage to get him out of there shortly after which was good, and I drove in pitch dark with him helping with directions to Julie and Jason’s lovely house on the Alouette River.

The next morning we left smartly at 8:00 and naturally now the oil light was on so we had to stop and top up with that plus gas, then the death-defying 140 KPH on the straight ways, the accelerated passes on the freeway, and the eye-shutting testing the limits of what speed the car will hold on turns….. fun!  Made it though.

The World’s in Quite a Pickle

I find myself unable to stop watching the news, which is dumb as there’s nothing in it but sadness, and other than giving five dollars each time I buy booze, I’m not able to do a lot to help the people in Ukraine.  But then we watched the desperate people in Afghanistan and Syria before them too, and went geez, that sucks.  We’re in a fortunate, yet helpless, part of the world.

And other than planning for Nuclear Winter, life goes on pretty much as normal.  I went to visit mom who became sick while I was there, likely due to high blood pressure and congestive heart failure, both of which she doesn’t think she has.  She said, “do you think I have that sickness, you know, that thing everyone has?”  And I said, “Covid?” And she said “yes, that.”

I said I didn’t think she had it, as there were no symptoms of it.  Then she asked if I thought she was dying, and I said, “given you just ate a bowl of custard, then a muffin and drank a coffee, I think you’re far from dying.”  She was then indignant, saying she knew of “lots” of people who ate just before they died.

The cantankerousness was a sign she was on the mend, and so I drove home knowing Luke’s right next door, at her beck and call.  It’s so much better with them in their own home as it turns out mom’s like one of those animals you read about in the SPCA, you know the ones for adoption where it says “would do best in a home with no other animals.”

Being on the Hall Road Facebook page has helped me realize what a pariah I am.  Not only do I feed nuts to the magpies and Steller’s jays, I have two outdoor cats.  Apparently the larger birds like to murder and eat smaller songbirds, which of course the cats like to do as well, so it turns out I’m responsible for songbird deaths.  Because the cats would shred my house, keeping them in is a no-go however I’ve resolved to stop feeding the big birds, so there.

Jan’s off to Thailand in less than two weeks and she always takes tons of chocolates with her.  I’ve ordered some on-line and bought a good assortment at Winners and Homesense, so she now has over $200 worth of chocolate for the family and friends. Luke said due to my largesse with the chocolates when we visited in 2012 my picture’s on the wall of one of the small restaurants in the little village.

With this strange cloud of imminent doom hanging over all of our heads, thanks to Putin, I find either I’m in a state of paralysis, numbly watching news clip after news clip on You Tube, or else tuning it all out entirely and sweeping for a couple of hours outside until my body calls it quits. 

I also made a photo book of the Hawaii trip for Marie, and had the Crones over last week which necessitated a lot of fancy-pants meal prep, and today I bought a shirt that I’m going to alter in the sleeves to make it all adorable and bespoke.  So far, I’ve managed to stay away from the incessant colouring I do when the stress levels get too high.

But of course stress is relative, and when I see moms holding babies and leading a tired toddler by the hand I think oh shut the hell up about your so-called stress!  Honestly.

Hilarity and Hysteria in Hawaii

As it was hot and sunny for our entire trip to the Big Island, there’s not a lot a person can report but what is very memorable for me are the hilarious people from the trip.  The very first person to provide entertainment was the front desk ‘clerk’ at the Kona Islander Hotel.  I say clerk guardedly as she explained to anyone in earshot she didn’t work for the hotel so she certainly couldn’t help any of us.

Turns out the Kona Islander is all privately-owned condos so if your owner is negligent, too bad for you.  This happened to us, as we’d asked for two beds but had to bunk in one, though it was a king so it was fine, and was worse for another group from Oregon who arrived to a pillow smeared in blood, get outta here if you think you’re getting another one.

But the hotel had a lovely pool and beautiful grounds, plus it was just one night, and then we had a really nice condo for the next nine nights.  Once settled in we headed for a national park where we’d heard we could see turtles, so went into the ranger-staffed little office and said to the disinterested employee, “Are there turtles here?”

He very helpfully replied “No, not here.  Ya have ta go down to the bay to see ‘em.”  We thanked him and left and then spent quite a bit of time rehearsing funny replies such as “Really?  We thought they’d be right here on this desk.”

Several days later we ran into a clerk at the Outlet store who couldn’t understand that Marie had bought and paid for three items, and that I was trying to pay for one single item.  She kept trying to extract $20.97 from me and I kept pointing to the tag saying I refuse to pay more than the $10.00 this tag is indicating.

She remained stymied until Marie brilliantly suggested “Why don’t you just void that and start over?”  She did, and after that it worked, but a customer behind us who witnessed the whole thing gathered up her purchases and moved to a different till. I guess she didn’t want that kind of a battle with a cashier.

We were as stupid as some of the people we met, as on the second day I said let’s go to Hilo, and we proceeded to head south instead of north.  Several hours later we did manage to find our way there and had a nice serenade from a guitar-playing couple on the street who gave away CD’s of their music.

The last ridiculous person was as we were getting onto the plane. A woman in first class said to Marie “You can’t bring that onto the plane.”  Marie then calmly explained the lower suitcase went into the overhead bin and the smaller bag fit under the seat in front of her.  I said to Marie how good of you to explain to her how carry-on works.  The woman must be exhausted at the end of each day with so many strangers doing so much wrong all the time.

Prior to this incident I’d almost been denied boarding as the government’s ArriveCan app wouldn’t formulate a barcode for me, so despite being vaccinated and having a negative PCR test, I nearly had to book a later flight home.  Fortunately my hysteria moved a Westjet employee who had a good amount of common sense as she said just get on the plane.  Thank God for people with a heart plus a brain.

Fingers Crossed As Usual

Last fall the government told us we could travel ourselves silly, so my friend Marie and I booked a trip to Hawaii.  Two months later all non-essential travel was being discouraged, however our trip is non-refundable, so we decided we’re damn well going to Hawaii.  It’s currently 30 degrees C there, and about that in Fahrenheit here.

The whole thing could come to a screeching halt on Thursday morning when we go for the Covid tests which are required within 24 hours of leaving for Hawaii.  Then the WestJet website advises one needs to be at the airport at least two hours prior to a domestic flight, so we’re planning to be at the airport at 11:00 AM, with carry-on and boarding passes, for a flight to Vancouver which leaves at 1:00.

Covid certainly makes for a long day of travel.  However I’m not complaining and am just praying and hoping we do actually get onto the plane.  I won’t believe it until we land in Kona, and then the fun really begins as we’re due to arrive at 10:30 PM. Our hotel has no staff after midnight and the woman Marie spoke to said the lock box is “very complicated.”  Doesn’t that instill confidence?

There’s a really nice video of the hotel’s grounds on their website at, and when Marie saw it she said if we end up sleeping by the pool it’s fine and she’s right.  Check it out as it’s a really great location in Kona, though we’re just there for one night, and then off to Waikoloa Village for nine nights at a condo.

My friend Donna had given me a gift certificate for a pedicure at a local aesthetics salon for my birthday and so I finally got to use it the other day.  She’d emailed me “don’t forget to take your thongs” and I replied they’re now referred to as flip flops.

The kids had disabused me of using the word ‘thong’ to describe flip flops long ago, when they were in their teens.  As we were heading outside one day I said I needed to find my thongs, to which they both heartily replied “ewwww.”  In those days we would all delight in screaming “ewww” at Denis when we caught a glimpse of him naked or lightly clothed, to which he’d always reply “ew yourself.”

The Crones and I had an interesting experience at the new Hyatt Place on Enterprise as we decided to go for Happy Hour.  We arrived at 3:00 and then had to wait a bit for the bartender to show up, and then the drinking began.  The cocktails were fine and after an hour or so we ordered food.  I ordered a burger and fries, as did Sharon and Petra had ordered sweet chili chicken wings. 

When I bit into my burger, I noted it was raw in the middle, so sent it back and Petra said the wings were buffalo, IE hot, and so the wrong ones, and so sent those back.  As a result I had two free cocktails, and I think Petra had one free, so we left feeling pretty good about it all. My second burger, and her sweet chili wings, were all good the second time.

Things have settled down in Osoyoos as mom now has her house back and Luke and Jan are in theirs, so at least I can go on my trip not worried sick about the fighting down there, and instead can worry myself sick about the world of travel during Covid.

New Year but Nothing New

Pandemic Year Two is so boring, isn’t it?  Things in the world as well as the home front remain pretty much the same.  I have the same five pounds on my stomach, I have a dog on my lap as I’m typing with a cat on a chair two feet away, the ubiquitous dog snout smears are on the living room window, and I just got home from another “gramma’s had a stroke” phone call from Luke.

Mom’s about to turn 97 next month, and most people are quite disabled after these small strokes, but I have to say in mom’s case they seem to strengthen her.  It’s true that what doesn’t kill her appears to make her stronger.  When I arrived on Saturday she was in bed, and yesterday when I left she was in the kitchen, drinking coffee, eating a muffin and handing out criticisms with the zeal of a born-again preacher.

I just finished reading a book called Escape from Camp 14 which is the account of a young man’s escape from a North Korean labour camp.  There, people are punished for three generations and so he was born in the camp, and slated to die there.  Far be it for me to equate caring for mom at her house to being in a prison camp, but there were some similarities.

A few years ago when mom hurt her back and was in bed she got a bell so that she could ring it and get someone to come.  Imagine the joy of walking into the kitchen and starting to peel a vegetable, then ring ring, Yes?  Um can you please get my blanket?  Back to the kitchen. Ding a ling a ling.  Can you bring me my favourite mix of yogurt and ice cream?

Then of course there were the surprise attacks.  Sunday morning at 5:30 my bedroom door burst open and mom came in with her walker saying are you awake?  I said I am now.  Mom started toward my bed and then proceeded to get into it, so I said I think the dogs and I will just get up.

The other part of the prison-like experience is one must walk by mom to get to the back bedroom and this is an opportunity to remind her she needs to tell a story.  She’ll say did I ever tell you about the time when, and start the story and I reply actually you did, and try to fill in parts of the story but it never works.  I must hear the story again.

Then there’s the slow torture of CNN and MSNBC which are on from morning until night.  Sitting with mom means watching these channels by the hour, and often by the time I’ve been told the same story a third time my mind starts to go on me and I long for freedom.  I imagine myself running through a meadow, free as a butterfly, but then Don Lemon’ll bring me back to Earth with a thud.

I don’t imagine myself living as long as mom, but if I do, I wouldn’t mind a small percentage of her pluck.  I’m already about a hundred times weaker than she is.

I didn’t bother with any New Year’s resolutions, and plan to just try and remain sane and that’s probably the best I can do.  In keeping with the nothing-new this year, I’m off to the Coast Capri this afternoon for Happy Hour with the Crones, then walking with Marie on the weekend.  And I’m quite sure the sameness will be punctuated by a call to Osoyoos, followed by endless ding a ling a linging.


I met my future sister-in-law Wendy, nicknamed Twiggy by my brother, when I was 13.  She was tiny, with big blue eyes fringed in black lashes, very short, straight red hair and she wore mini skirts.  The kind I wasn’t allowed to wear so I found her very cool.  Twig was 20 then, and a year later she and Freddie got married at Vancouver City Hall with two friends as witnesses.

Freddie then phoned home and in his usual, hilarious way said to my mom, guess what we did today, and mom said, what, to which he replied we got married!!  Boy was my mom ever perplexed by that call, but at 21 and 22 no one could’ve stopped them anyway.

They were hippies and I was enthralled by their apartment in Burnaby where one sat on mattresses on the floor.  Beaded curtains, incense and tie dye completed the ambiance.  I was basically besotted by them and their lifestyle, me the kid whose mom still laid out her clothes and pinned on a broach before I left for school.

At around age 15 I was excited to learn they were going to rent a house in Oliver.  This suited me beautifully as by 16 we attended high school there, and I could sneak over there with boys and they wouldn’t rat me out.  My life wouldn’t have been worth a Carnival Cruise if mom had found out about any of that.

And then imagine my good luck to have Twig as my babysitter.  They’d returned to the Coast after just a few years in Oliver, moving to the Pitt River in Coquitlam, and after teaching in Prince George I met Denis, got married and we moved to Burnaby where Luke was born.

When he was one I returned to my job as a teacher of the deaf and hard of hearing, but only part time and so Twig came to our house two and a half days a week to hang around with Luke.  She was a kindergarten teacher for many years so she had a great nature with the kid, and can you imagine the relaxed way I could work, knowing my own sister-in-law was taking care of my child?

And now in her latter years she was a fabulous grandmother to four kids, and was enjoying retirement.  However as you know Freddie died last year in May, and she really never recuperated from that and often said she was just so damned sad.  And so it’s with sadness I report she died on December 23rd, however perhaps it’s better for those two little love birds to hang together, wherever they may be.

You know how I love to search for spiritual meaning in things, and on the day she died I was outside with the dogs and seven white geese came overhead, honking away, with one strong bird in the lead.  They honked and honked, circled and flew off.  I’ve never seen white geese before, so I just thought wow those two have a bunch of friends with them already.  They were magnetic in life.

I just heard Betty White died, also this year three of the ya ya’s mothers packed it in, as well one of my old boyfriends, Don Lesmeister.  So I guess as long as we’re breathing we should just shut the hell up, laugh, enjoy and realize life is pretty damned short.  And on that note, Happy New Year and all the best in 2022!

A Downward Dog a Day

According to Adriene Mischler of Yoga with Adriene, a downward dog a day keeps the doctor away, and so far, so good as I’ve been doing yoga daily for two years now, minus the two months my left knee felt like a knife was being stabbed into it.  It hasn’t done a thing for my weight but it’s a good exercise for the body, mind and soul.

Besides yoga, I’ve managed to bake five different kinds of cookies which I’ve given away as gifts and plan to re-bake tomorrow.  A lot of inspiration comes from the marvelous Great British Baking Show which I just adore, though their orange cardamom cookies weren’t as wonderful as I thought they’d be.  Maybe it was just my methods.

I made one of my favourite German cookies, called Zimmtsterne which means cinnamon stars.  They’re meringue mixed with ground almonds and flavoured with cinnamon.  When they come out of the oven they’re warm, thick and juicy, and so the other night I just gave in entirely and ate as many of them as I could before I felt sick.  I must’ve gotten at least eight of them down.

There’s joy in Osoyoos as the modular home was delivered on Friday.  It’s basically two mobile homes that they’ll join in the middle, so it’s not much of a house, but it looks cute already with its nice large front porch.  Once landscaped and when the stairs are attached it’ll look like a proper house.

You may already know this, but now at thrift you no longer have to buy used items as the places are stacked with items still in their boxes.  We’re now at the point we’re giving brand new items to thrift, so if you need a small appliance, check them out first.  I found a nice toaster in the box for $8.00 at Value Village, and to my annoyance, a woman in front of me in line had a Breville juicer in the box, and I imagine it would’ve gone for around $20.00.

A nice customer told me he bought a standing mixer there for around $20 which he sold for over $200 as they’re $600 at the store.  You’d have to be nuts to buy everything at retail, and even if you’re flush with dough and sneer at thrift, you might give a thought to all the stuff already made that nobody wants.  Why must we make more?

But if you insist, here’s an excellent way to get rid of an awful big chunk of money very quickly, go to Costco.  After Elsa and I had browsed thrift for a couple of hours and found a few treasures, she suggested we stop at Costco on our way home because I needed pecans.

I think we may have been in that place for about 20 minutes in total, and the bill was close to $500.  I haven’t been to Costco in a couple of years as I wisely gave up my membership, so I was doing the “Look, Hellmans mayo for $6.99” gag and loading up the Volkswagen-sized shopping cart with random items.

The good news is, I did get my pecans, but I also got chocolate, almonds, beef jerky, cheese, mayonnaise and dish towels.  Elsa bought some Christmas gifts for the kids, and so we marveled at the amounts due for each: mine was $178 for twenty minutes.

A downward dog a day is needed when one does stupid stuff like that.  Ooooohhhhmm.

New Christmas Formats

For the first time in 31 years, I have an artificial Christmas tree which I bought at thrift.  It was so easy to do I wonder why I struggled with the live trees for so long, and once decorated it doesn’t look too bad.  No one’s going to be here to see it given the kids are in Osoyoos and Grand Forks so won’t be coming to Kelowna.  I also have about a quarter of the usual froufrou out, didn’t even open some of the Tupperware containers labelled Christmas Decorations, and feel fab about it all.

I now see the amount of rejected ornaments in thrift as a sign of things to come as I don’t want most of the stuff I’ve accumulated over the decades.  I have more ceramic Santas than any normal person needs and why the dozens of pieces of the little Christmas Village that seemed so cute at the time?

Besides simplifying Christmas, another idea I stumbled upon was to use my mom’s cemetery plot, already paid for in Osoyoos, and which she doesn’t want.  I’ll then be buried (or interred I should say) beside my dad, and near my grandparents, and also old time Osoyans with whom I think I would like to spend eternity.  I mentioned it to the reunion women and Penny said she had a slightly used urn and I said I’ll take it as how dirty can it be, plus as a thrifty person, why waste that?

This weekend as I go to Osoyoos I have two interesting desserts planned.  Remember that old pineapple and whipping cream in a Graham cracker shell dessert from the 70’s?  I’m making that, plus an egg nog tres leches cake which sounds kind of interesting.  I’m adding to the plight of the oceans by buying two bags of probably the last wild shrimp in the Pacific, but I can’t eat the farmed as I’ve seen too many documentaries on it.

You may recall Denis put up the Christmas lights on this house every year for the past 31, but since he moved to Midway, he’s balking and so Calvin the tenant and I are going to try and figure it out ourselves.  I’m fine when it comes to downsizing the decorations inside, but I really insist on outdoor lights for the month of December.

Another new and interesting Christmas development is my group of friends I like to refer to as The Crones have decided not to exchange gifts anymore.  It’s always such a struggle to try and buy stuff for people who just go out and buy whatever they want.  And we’re all so peculiar at this age we only like certain things so it’s really impossible, and this was a welcome idea to all.

You know how I love free things so one thing I never miss is the local Global news as I get that channel with just my rabbit ears so it’s free.  I’d kind of forgotten about it as I mostly watch You Tube or Netflix when one day Justin was playing with the remote and that channel came on.  I said to Nick I forgot I used to get free TV!

Alzheimer’s?  Maybe but more likely the usual eccentricity of the aged.  When I watch the weatherman I notice his jacket pulls when he buttons it, so I sent him a very nice message on Facebook saying I think just one size larger would look so much better.  Then I posted it on Facebook and strangely, few people gave a rat’s ass about it.

As we get wiser we realize we can do with so much less, and perhaps that’s the message of the too tight sports jacket, saving on fabric is the future of fashion.