My blogs will be sporadic for the next few months. My brain and time are focused on two major issues. Thankfully neither one is a matter of life nor death, but they are the kind that drive me to eat. Our home of 35 years has sold, we hope. In today’s market, until the sellers leave the closing table with a check in hand, nothing is a done deal. Still, Hubby and I must be positive, and pack. We have four weeks to go, and it is time. We also still have not finalized on the home we hope to buy.
Today we decided to start with the front bedroom This means opening dresser drawers that were once my sons’, but since he moved out years ago, they’ve become receptacles for goodies long forgotten. The same is true for the closet. “What are these old 33’s doing here?” I asked Hubby this morning.
“I want them. They’re collectors’ albums,” he said.
“Where are we going to keep them?” I asked.
“Get rid of some of your stuff, too,” he retorted.
“My junk is valuable, unlike yours,” I quipped.
Books I want, he says are silly, and the ones he wants, he hasn’t looked at in years. I thought we would need two cartons for photo albums, and we ended up needing seven. Friends who have done this “downsizing” move warned me to use small cartons so we can pick them up. We thought the cartons were small, but still could barely lift them.
My granddaughter asked me to please pack the stuffed animals and the blocks. “My brother still plays with them – and the riding toys.”
That’s what I get for asking. I really thought she’d tell me they were all too old for little kids’ toys.
After four hours, I opened a cabinet I thought was empty. It was stuffed with envelopes of duplicate pictures, pictures from cruises, and drawings my kids and grandkids made for us. I knew I had several choices. Go through them and dump what should be dumped, put them in a carton as is, or quit for the day. Since I am now typing this, you know what I decided.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Cocktail Hour at COSTCO
Today Hubby and I officially became full-fledged, stereotype, seniors. We were out on errands all afternoon – our last stop being COSTCO – right before the dinner hour. I usually shop in COSTCO early afternoon or at night, so I was not aware that late afternoon was “Cocktail Hour.” Occasionally I see samples when I shop in the early afternoon, but never to the extent that they had them that time of the day.
It was almost as if from the time I entered the store until it was time to check out, a different course of a 7-course menu was along my usual path. From cheese on crackers, nuts, a tiny taste of lasagna, goodies were everywhere. Best of all was the whole-wheat breaded tilapia. (It was so good, we went back for seconds, then thirds, and finally brought two packages to take home.)
Hubby was disappointed there were no samples in the wine section. “After all, what’s a good cocktail hour without wine?” he asked.
Someone overheard him. “There may not be wine, but the dessert makes up for it,” she said and pointed to a lady doling out samples of chocolate.
As we loaded our car, I started to laugh. “Do you remember how years ago we made fun of my parents and their friends who only ate at the early-bird specials?”
He nodded.
Well, it’s not even five and we’ve already eaten.
It was almost as if from the time I entered the store until it was time to check out, a different course of a 7-course menu was along my usual path. From cheese on crackers, nuts, a tiny taste of lasagna, goodies were everywhere. Best of all was the whole-wheat breaded tilapia. (It was so good, we went back for seconds, then thirds, and finally brought two packages to take home.)
Hubby was disappointed there were no samples in the wine section. “After all, what’s a good cocktail hour without wine?” he asked.
Someone overheard him. “There may not be wine, but the dessert makes up for it,” she said and pointed to a lady doling out samples of chocolate.
As we loaded our car, I started to laugh. “Do you remember how years ago we made fun of my parents and their friends who only ate at the early-bird specials?”
He nodded.
Well, it’s not even five and we’ve already eaten.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Pork Free
It’s hard to write funny when you have a lot of toxicity going on in your life. Thankfully, everyone has their health, but otherwise tensions are piling up. Indirectly I can blame everything on the politics in Washington.
Without playing the blame game – and there is plenty to go around – my husband is virtually unemployed. He is a property appraiser, and, needless to say, his business has gone into heart failure. Thus, he is home, and instead of appraising homes, he is appraising my every move.
We are trying to sell our home of 35 years and move into what we call an adult sleep away camp a.k.a. over 55 development. However, since the banks are not lending to anyone, nothing is selling. If banks are not lending to people even with squeaky-clean credit, (if they need money for a mortgage or bridge loan), no one can buy or sell.
And what is Washington doing to fix the mess? Let’s see, the Democrats are trying to find people who paid their taxes to be in the cabinet and the Republicans are consulting Joe the Plumber, who is not a plumber, as to how to fix the country.
Since both parties claim they don't want pork in any stimulus package, but in actuality only want their own recipes – the Republicans liked BBQ pork and the Dems like it sweet and sour – I have a suggestion to get rid of all the pork, regardless of recipes. Many Jews refrain from eating pork. Kosher Jews insist on their meat being Kosher. They have a Rabbi supervise preparations to make sure, among other things, nothing such as pork contaminates it. Perhaps Congress can hire a Rabbi to supervise the stimulus package. Then it will be pork-free and everyone in the US will be able to eat it.
Without playing the blame game – and there is plenty to go around – my husband is virtually unemployed. He is a property appraiser, and, needless to say, his business has gone into heart failure. Thus, he is home, and instead of appraising homes, he is appraising my every move.
We are trying to sell our home of 35 years and move into what we call an adult sleep away camp a.k.a. over 55 development. However, since the banks are not lending to anyone, nothing is selling. If banks are not lending to people even with squeaky-clean credit, (if they need money for a mortgage or bridge loan), no one can buy or sell.
And what is Washington doing to fix the mess? Let’s see, the Democrats are trying to find people who paid their taxes to be in the cabinet and the Republicans are consulting Joe the Plumber, who is not a plumber, as to how to fix the country.
Since both parties claim they don't want pork in any stimulus package, but in actuality only want their own recipes – the Republicans liked BBQ pork and the Dems like it sweet and sour – I have a suggestion to get rid of all the pork, regardless of recipes. Many Jews refrain from eating pork. Kosher Jews insist on their meat being Kosher. They have a Rabbi supervise preparations to make sure, among other things, nothing such as pork contaminates it. Perhaps Congress can hire a Rabbi to supervise the stimulus package. Then it will be pork-free and everyone in the US will be able to eat it.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Who's Calling? Should It Matter?
My husband doesn’t answer our home phone unless he is positive I am physically unable to do so, meaning I am not home. He insists it is never for him, so why should he disrupt what he is doing to answer the phone – even if all he is doing is sleeping and watching television – something he mastered years ago. I know he is multitasking because if I turn off the TV, he immediately tells me to turn it back on.
Anyway, if I am physically unable to pick up the phone and he recognizes the caller, he will pick up the phone and hand it to me. Heaven forbid he should say “Hello.” However, if the caller ID only flashes a number or, even worse, “unknown name, unknown number,” he will turn and ask me, “Who is it?”
By the time I explain that I am not clairvoyant, either our machine picks up or the caller hangs up. The latter really infuriates me because then I never know if the “unknown name , unknown caller” was someone intending to bestow a million dollars on me because I answered my phone. The only phone calls Hubby answers ASAP are those on his cell phone. He says that if it is his phone, the call is for him.
The other day I had friends over for our weekly game of Mah Jongg. Hubby was in his home office. Our phone rang. There is an extension on his desk. I assumed he would answer it. He did not. My friends and I laughed at how our husbands all dislike answering the phone. Is it because when they worked, their secretaries censored their calls? Do they think of their wives as their secretaries?
Anyway, I found a solution to my problem. Now when I am busy, I use call forwarding and forward our home phone calls to his cell phone.
Anyway, if I am physically unable to pick up the phone and he recognizes the caller, he will pick up the phone and hand it to me. Heaven forbid he should say “Hello.” However, if the caller ID only flashes a number or, even worse, “unknown name, unknown number,” he will turn and ask me, “Who is it?”
By the time I explain that I am not clairvoyant, either our machine picks up or the caller hangs up. The latter really infuriates me because then I never know if the “unknown name , unknown caller” was someone intending to bestow a million dollars on me because I answered my phone. The only phone calls Hubby answers ASAP are those on his cell phone. He says that if it is his phone, the call is for him.
The other day I had friends over for our weekly game of Mah Jongg. Hubby was in his home office. Our phone rang. There is an extension on his desk. I assumed he would answer it. He did not. My friends and I laughed at how our husbands all dislike answering the phone. Is it because when they worked, their secretaries censored their calls? Do they think of their wives as their secretaries?
Anyway, I found a solution to my problem. Now when I am busy, I use call forwarding and forward our home phone calls to his cell phone.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Drug Plans
About thirty years ago, all of my peers would become irritable when our children’s science fair projects were due. Constructing the display board was not an easy job unless you were a skilled carpenter. The three-sided display board didn’t come onto the market until our kids were in college.
The annual stress of yesteryear's science project has been replaced by today’s mandatory yearly reevaluating of my friends and my Medicare Part D coverage. We need to make sure our current carrier of Medicare Part D – the drug prescription program – meets our current needs. You see, individual carriers change their rules and prices every year.
When the program first started, all I had to do was call 1-800- Medicare, and a nice person took all my information – meaning all the drugs hubby and I take on a regular basis – and magically told me what carrier was best for each of us. And, what was most amazing for a government agency, they were right. This year that has changed. Every time I’ve called, the person on the phone told me something else or gave me misinformation.
To show you how this is wearing me down, yesterday when I called a carrier to verify the information the government gave me, I asked the man on the phone if GPS was one of the local pharmacies on the plan. After several minutes, the person said, “Miss, I can’t find any pharmacy by that name.”
Then I realized what I asked him and laughed. That night, while I packed for Thanksgiving in New York, hubby handed me his favorite navigational device. “Oh, the CVS,” I said.
He looked at me as if I was nuts. I wasn’t. Just tired and I still haven’t figured which plan is best!
The annual stress of yesteryear's science project has been replaced by today’s mandatory yearly reevaluating of my friends and my Medicare Part D coverage. We need to make sure our current carrier of Medicare Part D – the drug prescription program – meets our current needs. You see, individual carriers change their rules and prices every year.
When the program first started, all I had to do was call 1-800- Medicare, and a nice person took all my information – meaning all the drugs hubby and I take on a regular basis – and magically told me what carrier was best for each of us. And, what was most amazing for a government agency, they were right. This year that has changed. Every time I’ve called, the person on the phone told me something else or gave me misinformation.
To show you how this is wearing me down, yesterday when I called a carrier to verify the information the government gave me, I asked the man on the phone if GPS was one of the local pharmacies on the plan. After several minutes, the person said, “Miss, I can’t find any pharmacy by that name.”
Then I realized what I asked him and laughed. That night, while I packed for Thanksgiving in New York, hubby handed me his favorite navigational device. “Oh, the CVS,” I said.
He looked at me as if I was nuts. I wasn’t. Just tired and I still haven’t figured which plan is best!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Hot Air Cruise
The election is over and my prediction about Florida going to goof again was wrong. I am now a strong proponent of early voting. It worked out the snags and prevented my fellow Floridians from looking foolish.
Sadly, even though the election is over, the negative talking heads on radio and television haven’t given up. If I knew them, I would call them. I would tell them if they truly loved America, they all should take a six-month cruise – with each other. The only passengers on the ship should be those that work for the talking heads. Communication with civilization would be prohibited. That is the only way these talking heads and their listeners can have a real time-out.
I propose that Rush Limbaugh and Keith Olbermann should be the co-captains. They would be good at steering ships in storms, especially if a lot of hot wind is around. Bill O’Reilly and Rachel Maddow can be co-social directors with Hannity and Combs being their assistants. Hannity would be great at picking questions for trivia pursuit while Combs can lead ballroom dancing. The ship should only stop at ports that have no communication with the rest of the world.
With the talking heads gone, I think our country would have a better chance of letting election wounds heal quickly. Without daily inflammatory information vomiting over the airwaves, people would go back to listening to music while driving or, if they don’t like that, they can listen to books on tape. Instead of watching cable news, situation comedies will once again be in vogue – the kind that leaves audiences with smiles on their faces instead of twists in their guts. Families and friends who were on different political teams hopefully will end their heated dinner table arguments. Discussions will be based on pure facts, not quotes taken out of context.
What other benefits can you think of if the instigators of divisiveness leave the country for six months? And, if America gets used to no toxic programs influencing their lives, will they revert to old habits when the toxic talking heads return from their cruise to nowhere?
Sadly, even though the election is over, the negative talking heads on radio and television haven’t given up. If I knew them, I would call them. I would tell them if they truly loved America, they all should take a six-month cruise – with each other. The only passengers on the ship should be those that work for the talking heads. Communication with civilization would be prohibited. That is the only way these talking heads and their listeners can have a real time-out.
I propose that Rush Limbaugh and Keith Olbermann should be the co-captains. They would be good at steering ships in storms, especially if a lot of hot wind is around. Bill O’Reilly and Rachel Maddow can be co-social directors with Hannity and Combs being their assistants. Hannity would be great at picking questions for trivia pursuit while Combs can lead ballroom dancing. The ship should only stop at ports that have no communication with the rest of the world.
With the talking heads gone, I think our country would have a better chance of letting election wounds heal quickly. Without daily inflammatory information vomiting over the airwaves, people would go back to listening to music while driving or, if they don’t like that, they can listen to books on tape. Instead of watching cable news, situation comedies will once again be in vogue – the kind that leaves audiences with smiles on their faces instead of twists in their guts. Families and friends who were on different political teams hopefully will end their heated dinner table arguments. Discussions will be based on pure facts, not quotes taken out of context.
What other benefits can you think of if the instigators of divisiveness leave the country for six months? And, if America gets used to no toxic programs influencing their lives, will they revert to old habits when the toxic talking heads return from their cruise to nowhere?
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Florida Votes - Nothing's Changed
“Can’t you Floridians learn how to vote?” a Northern friend teased when she called me the other day.
She was referring to the fact that our hour’s long wait to vote early had made national news. Since hubby and I had voted that afternoon, I confidently replied, “No.”
There was only one reason for the wait: the length of the ballot. The poll workers were friendly and efficient and doing their best to make lemonade out of a lemon. They even had chairs available for those who could not stand. After our almost two-hour wait, it took another half-hour to “bubble-in” the bubbles on both sides of the five pages – and we had “cheat” sheets on how we wanted to vote for all the amendments, judges, etc. When done with step one, we then had to scan our five answer sheets into the scanner. My poor husband bubbled out of the oval in one spot, so the scanner refused one page of his ballot! His choice was to return to “go” and start the process again or not vote for some of the amendments. At that point, sadly, neither of us cared about the amendments and we left.
I miss the old pushpin ballots. People with minor tremors in their hands didn’t have them rejected because they “bubbled out of the lines.” The “hanging chads” did that method of voting in. I miss the computer touch and vote machines that replaced them. Both systems allowed voters to select their language and not be confused once the actual voting process began. However, orders were given to the powers in charge of elections to come up with a system that had a paper trail. The solution is the present ballot written in three languages. Does it sound confusing? Believe me, it is.
Okay, America, Broward County supposedly now has a foolproof voting system, and according to one poll worker, “It is perfect unless someone misplaces the boxes with the ballots.”
If I were a betting person, I would make a wager that we’ll be up late next Tuesday because people will still be on line in Broward waiting to vote. In fact, I predict we’ll still be voting long after California will close their polls. Hopefully, since I don’t like to be teased about my home state, I won’t win my bet!
She was referring to the fact that our hour’s long wait to vote early had made national news. Since hubby and I had voted that afternoon, I confidently replied, “No.”
There was only one reason for the wait: the length of the ballot. The poll workers were friendly and efficient and doing their best to make lemonade out of a lemon. They even had chairs available for those who could not stand. After our almost two-hour wait, it took another half-hour to “bubble-in” the bubbles on both sides of the five pages – and we had “cheat” sheets on how we wanted to vote for all the amendments, judges, etc. When done with step one, we then had to scan our five answer sheets into the scanner. My poor husband bubbled out of the oval in one spot, so the scanner refused one page of his ballot! His choice was to return to “go” and start the process again or not vote for some of the amendments. At that point, sadly, neither of us cared about the amendments and we left.
I miss the old pushpin ballots. People with minor tremors in their hands didn’t have them rejected because they “bubbled out of the lines.” The “hanging chads” did that method of voting in. I miss the computer touch and vote machines that replaced them. Both systems allowed voters to select their language and not be confused once the actual voting process began. However, orders were given to the powers in charge of elections to come up with a system that had a paper trail. The solution is the present ballot written in three languages. Does it sound confusing? Believe me, it is.
Okay, America, Broward County supposedly now has a foolproof voting system, and according to one poll worker, “It is perfect unless someone misplaces the boxes with the ballots.”
If I were a betting person, I would make a wager that we’ll be up late next Tuesday because people will still be on line in Broward waiting to vote. In fact, I predict we’ll still be voting long after California will close their polls. Hopefully, since I don’t like to be teased about my home state, I won’t win my bet!
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