Forgetting Milestones . . . does it really mean anything? Or just no-nevermind as long as it still works?

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When I married my husband in the last century, he was officially 10 months younger than I, not too much, but still beyond the “ideal” marriage-age-gap of the southern culture I grew up in.  So, even though he was very handsome (for whatever reason I never saw that as important and besides I thought good–i.e., faithful, men always wore thick glasses and eventually went bald–I couldn’t imagine my  life with anyone except him because he was very intelligent, and he laughed at my jokes! With all the strikes against us, my being from the south and he being slightly tan and from a maybe at-one-time s***hole country according to “some people”. I figured we’d need a good sense of humor and turns out I was right!

To get directly to the “meat” of this conversation, you’d think being 10 months younger, his memory would be better than mine! Au contraire, mon ami! We BOTH went through the whole day with our normal retirement routines–he to the gym and me to the hair salon, then home for lunch, and a little news to make sure we weren’t at war or that we hadn’t missed an important announcement from the justice department. I’ve found the drone of cable news becomes a great source of white noise to take small naps with. Dinnertime came. Still there was no thought whatsoever that we could have been out at some nice place having a gourmet dinner and drinking anything stronger than my usual  southern “sweet” tea as we relished leftovers for dinner.  

This morning as I was enticed from my bed with a strong coffee aroma drifting into the bedroom, I heard a voice coming from our office opposite the kitchen. “Happy Anniversary” Laughing at our forgetfulness later, Hubby messaged our daughters “Hey, it’s okay that we forgot our anniversary (49th) yesterday, but not okay that you two forgot also. Dad”

Wedding anniversaries are pretty big deals back home, especially milestones ones. I was thinking at the time we married that we were both too old (I’d just turned 27, and he was technically younger at 26) and that we’d probably never live long enough to celebrate the “really big ones of 25 and 50.” I felt so old and wise at the time, and quite certain I wouldn’t last as long as I have. Now here we are, just one year away from the really BIG one! (Note to daughters, this is the one where you are to collectively send us on an exotic trip since neither of us have nearby family to come and throw us a big party and celebrate in style! ) God willing and the creek don’t rise we’ll both still be around for number 50. However, I’m counting on HIM to remind me . . . after all he’s 10 months younger!

 

 

hubby’s new hero

pasu with former cia director john brennanIn the interest of self-restraint, as well as fulfilling a duty to my health to control my blood pressure, I’d decided not to get into politics in my blog posts, but dammit! All the events of the last few days (or year and a half–or all preceding campaign years, what the hell)  have conspired to make me assert an alternative: I will only resort to politics to reassert my freedom as an American–because I still can! Can’t be sure that will be true much longer!

Last week the hubby and I had the good fortune of attending a world leaders lecture forum and dinner with former CIA Director John Brennan, pictured here. As it turns out, Mr. Brennan seems to be one of the few in Washington who dares to speak up in rightly criticizing the worst President (and I cringe as I type the word) in my personal memory. Not only is he hubby’s new hero, but mine as well. I also applaud Republican John McCain for his comments too. How many other Republicans will stand up for Country ahead of political gains.

On a more personal note, hubby’s hair is much longer lately. He’s elected to grow it
long to donate to an organization specializing in providing wigs for children temporarily bald due to cancer treatment. He still has a very long growing season ahead to provide at least 7-8 inches. Ideas for strategies in maintenance are welcome.

 

 

Where’s my old dust rag?

alice current 2018I’ve been poking around in here the past few days. It’s made me sorta miss coming here. Wonder if I should might start coming here again once in a while. At least that way anyone who happens by here will know I’m not dead yet. Hummmmmmmmm !  Where’s my old dust rag I wonder . . .

what happened to those 12 gifts after Christmas

Here it is January 6, or the 12th Day of Christmas, the new season of Epiphany observed primarily by Orthodox Greek, Catholic, and Anglican Christians. It marks the revelation of the birth of Jesus to the wider world as embodied in the story of three wise men visiting the newborn Jesus with gifts in the Gospel of Matthew 1:1-12. After today, I don’t expect to revisit Christmas 2013 until after Thanksgiving 2014. And I’m running so late, I almost didn’t get this post done on time!

One more year that I didn’t even get to hear all the Christmas music I’ve collected over the years, and I do have some great ones. (Hubby will be quick to point out when he reads this how I probably have enough time but too big a music collection.) However, I did discover a new song to love, the first new one in awhile–since Mariah Carey came out in 1994 with “All I Want For Christmas (is you).” A couple years before that it was “I Bought You A Plastic Star For Your Aluminum Tree,” so you can see my Christmas music tastes aren’t very traditional, though I do like those too. And I heard this song in the most unlikely place! It was at the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s Christmas Concert. Deborah Voigt sang a catchy new (to me) tune I’d never heard before. Although the CD of that concert won’t be available until next year, I couldn’t wait to share a version of that song–with a different artist from YouTube–with you this last day of Christmas. It tells me we should really not worry so much about gifts after all. Here’s what happened to those 12 gifts she got during the 12 days of Christmas:

what I won’t worry about anymore

Happy New Year everyone! It looks like we made it to another year all in one piece, having survived one more road trip, this time to spend Christmas with the daughter’s family in their Oregon vacation home, a fine change of scene. For the first time since we left Tennessee in 1997, we enjoyed the earthy smell of woodlands and a real old-fashioned fir tree in the house.We thought we’d escape the extreme temperatures and heavy Utah snows, but instead found a different kind of cold (humid), and re-discovered what it’s like to drive on fog and ice-laced country roads. “Oh my heck!” as my Mormon friends might say, but it was beautiful and sunny every day. Christmas Eve we drove to a nearby village to see a Christmas play–sort of a Sherlock Holmes spinoff of Charles Dickens Christmas Carol. Except for the long distances you have to drive to get to everywhere else, there’s something very appealing about small town living.

In reflecting on 2013, the Hubby, who’s usually just fine with whatever happens in the world, who’s so well-versed in rolling with the punches, remarked that he was happy to be done with it because of so many health issues for various members of the family–and to him as well if you count the re-injury he’s still suffering with the shoulder. This despite the surgery he underwent in the spring to repair it. I predict another surgery soon. In retrospect, turns out 2013 was especially expensive even though we decided to forgo foreign travel this year so we could invest in routine maintenance we would have done ourselves 30 years ago, plus another unplanned purchase–a new furnace!

And on top of that he still got itchy feel by summertime, and booked a tour to France. I live and learn though. I learned how spoiled we are in the U.S. because of our strict anti-smoking bans in public places. I have always been at the very least hyper-sensitive, if not downright allergic, to tobacco smoke. About three days into the trip I succumbed to the cigarette smoke all around in the open air with an upper respiratory infection that persisted for weeks after our return. Despite that, France was beautiful. I hope if (or when) I ever go back, they will have established at least a partial ban on smoking in public. The best things I found there were the cemeteries–I photographed painter Marc Chagall‘s grave in a lovely church yard on the mountainside commune of St. Thomas-en-Royans in southeastern France. After living in Las Vegas eight years, Monaco was pretty boring. I’m leery of most things that cater more to the rich than to the common man!

That brings me to 2014, and thinking mostly positive thoughts about what the year may bring. I’m taking a portrait drawing class this semester. Two days a week, and I was warned it will mean a lot of homework. I hope I’m up to it. When I was growing up, my second goal in life, after I got over my initial ambition of becoming a waitress (I was VERY young!), was to go to art school. I’d decided on Ringling College of Art & Design on Florida’s Gulf Coast. I’m pretty sure I never breathed this to a living soul. So whatever made be think I could draw then may no longer be there, plus I’m a little anxious about how the arthritis in my fingers may pose limits. Friday I’ll be consulting the ENT section of the University Hospital about a possible surgical procedure to improve my hearing. Previous ear surgeries have left me with little hearing in one ear–no eardrum–but tests show I have nearly perfect bone conduction. The new device will allow sound to be conducted through the bone to balance things a bit. I wouldn’t even tell about it except that it was such a jaw-dropping experience when they fitted me with a trial model to see how it would work. It was like moving from the back of a noisy class-room to the front row right next to the teacher’s desk. While I dread the surgical insertion, I look forward to no longer straining to hear.

So what else did I learn last year? I learned to listen to my own instincts more. They’re probably as good as anybody’s else when it’s about me and my health, and there are no guarantees in life, anyway. I listen to and read the experts, and then go to the gym and do what I feel good about doing, not what someone else thinks I ought to be doing. Three years now after the cancer treatments of 2010, and I go for days without thinking about it anymore. I get along very well and have energy to do all the things I really want to do, and the ability to admit it if I don’t want to. I’ve learned that food is not really my enemy, that I can eat things I ate while I was growing up even if those foods aren’t “cool” anymore. Sometimes I do cut back on the sugar and butter, I’m no longer as active after all, but I still believe in “everything in moderation.” My nod to embracing the new includes learning to “massage” and eat more kale, because mustard and collards just don’t taste the same without bacon drippings. I still hate and avoid beets, I don’t care what anyone says. And, I no longer feel guilty about the rarity of my inviting anyone outside family to dinner anymore. Here’s a perfect example why:

Hope everyone of you have a happy 2014, and find the peace of being just who you are with no apologies to anyone.  😀

 

Whatever your spiritual connection, here’s Hubby and me back to wish all of you the very best the holidays can offer. I know I’ve been negligent in posting since summer but I had a bad bout with arthritis in my hands, and instead of sitting at the computer so much, I decided to focus on finger exercises. (I hated them almost as bad as “real” exercise, but the hot/cold baths and hand waxings were great!) Things have improved some, and hopefully I’ll be back with more regularity in 2014 so I can exercise my brain as well. Things do fall apart the older you get, don’t they?

 

 

We’re in NYC cat/condo sitting for our daughter

We’re in NYC cat/condo sitting for our daughter who is vacationing in Paris. Today we spent the day settling in, food shopping, and planning our week. So far we’ve maneuvered the subway system successfully, thanks to Hubby who’s good at such things. Our friend from Pittsburgh will be joining us Wednesday so we took the subway to find the hotel she’ll be staying in, a couple stops away from us. Also got our bearings around Times Square at Broadway where we’ll be seeing Book of Mormon later in the week. It’ll be my first play on broadway. I’m trying to post this on our iPad and it stinks. I don’t like touch screens! More later, maybe.