First Party Since Pandemic

As my therapist says, everyone is feeling a bit "socially awkward" since we've been in isolation for so long, but I tell you, I had a full blown panic attack when I received an formal invitation to a friend's 70th birthday party "cocktail attire recommended".

My first inclination was to bow out politely. The party was indoors and didn't begin until 7:00 p.m. on a Saturday night. CoVid concerns, driving in the dark, and for godsake -- cocktail attire! Eeeek!

This birthday was for one of my widow friends turning 70. So a mile stone birthday for her. I knew also that she had been down in the dumps about it and this was her way of coping, by throwing a party.

I was going to decline, but then one of the other widows in our group contacted me, offered to drive, said we should go for the birthday gal's sake, show our support, wear masks, leave early! So that was the plan.

OMG, I must have rummaged through my closets dozens of times, trying on a variety of things, some too tight, some too big, some not right... I am not exactly what you would call the "cocktail attire" type. After changing countless times, settled on a black skirt, black top, black lace scarf and elbow length black beaded gloves...  Oh and black mask, shoes and purse. (The gloves and purse rummaged out from my vintage collection.)

Then comes the "socially awkward" part. What to talk about, wearing a mask, with people you don't know.... But my fellow widow friend was there and she didn't know many people either. So we were kind of an army of two... still --

It was stressful and sad: to my shock, the boyfriend of birthday gal came dressed wearing a black Fedora hat and suspenders and since I last saw him had lost weight and grown a mustache! I couldn't help thinking of Bob with his mustache and penchant for Fedora hats and suspenders... I nearly cried when they danced. It should've been us (Bob and me)...  had to leave the room.

And the musician she hired was playing a Washburn guitar, exactly like Bob's...

Too many memories. Too many lovey-dovey couples there. 

But I somehow survived the night.

Looking forward to a quiet Thanksgiving, with the dog, the cat eating frozen pizza on the couch. 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Finally, Peace and Quiet

 Since November 1st, I've been up before the crack of dawn every day (except Sunday) as contractors have been working on the house. Then all day the sounds of saws, sanding, banging of hammers, drills drilling, and of course Kona barking at all the commotion. And even one day, when two workers got into it, yelling at each other like grumpy old men, or an old married couple bickering outside my window... oh it's been hard to concentrate.

Finally, everything is finished. New ramp done. Two gates, repaired. Clawfoot tub straightened. Pealing paint scraped, sanded and repainted. Tile grouted. Two new faucets installed. 

Feels good. I can't believe I put off so many repairs so long. Oh! How nice it is to have hot water in the bathroom! Faucet handles that actually turn on and off! And a ramp I'm not afraid I'll fall through...

Someone asked me, why I had to get up so early as most work was outside. But the one carpenter would bring his dog (a male pitbull) which was a nice dog, but I wasn't sure how it would react to Kona, so had to be up before they arrived (at first light of day) so I could let Kona out in the a.m. without worry. Also the tendency to leave gates open, etc. 

I tell you my sleep schedule is all mixed up. (Add the daylight saving change into the mix.) The fur babies meal schedules are all off. And I got to get back to "normal" whatever that is.

But it's nice to have accomplished some sorely needed things... Nice to concentrate again. Get back to working at my desk. Swimming in my pool. Taking leisurely walks with Kona. 

Feels good.

The Cursed "C's"

So I thought I had ticked off the Fire Demons or the God's of Electrical Appliances, but seems I've been cursed by whoever is charge of C-words. First there was the cord then the coffee pot, shortly after that I heard a crash in the kitchen and found my cat cuttingboard lying broken on the floor... Takes a lot to break a cutting board in half. Not to mention flinging it nearly five feet off the wall! Good thing I wasn't standing there. Had to glue and clamp it back together. 

The very next day, I walk out the back door and see the clawfoot tub in my garden has sunk: like the Titanic going down. I tell you, I spent more than a few hours trying to upright the thing, finally using my car jack and getting it upright enough it doesn't look like the Titanic, more like the Lusitania listing... the crash of the clawfoot severed my sprinkler system. After jacking around with that project (literally) I came in to shower and only had Cold water... aargh. Then the deck ramp crumbled.... 

This week I've been up every morning around 4:00 a.m. with contractors here every day. Sprinkler guy, general contractor, and Friday the plumber comes. So I've had: the Cord, the Coffee Maker, the Cat Cutting Board, the Clawfoot tub, the Cold Water... Okay deck ramp doesn't start with C, maybe I'm moving up to the "D's" now.

Cursed Cat Cutting Board

Sinking Clawfoot...

Tub Back Upright  After Contractor fixed it.

 My attempt: still listing...

PS: Jenn, I think, mentioned I should check my electrical outlets, but the kitchen outlets were all updated in 2014 when the kitchen was remodeled and there is a new breaker box, so don't think that's the problem. (Hi Jenn!)

FIRE!!

 OK, I know one shouldn't yell "FIRE" in a crowded theater, but no harm on an uncrowded blog....

I don't know what I did to piss off the Fire Demons or the Gods of Electrical Appliances, but I have had a couple of interesting days...

Yesterday, while cleaning in the bedroom, I was attacking some dog/cat hair in the corner near the electrical outlet where two lamps are plugged in. The hair was wound around one of the cords and in the process of removing it BANG! And a blast of fire! and I'm knocked to the ground. Thankfully not electrocuted, but my hand burnt and blistering. I quickly unplugged the lamp and went to tend to my hand, which began bleeding as the blisters broke open...  Not a good day.

Lamp Cord

Then this morning while I was listening to a radio program about the "Curse of Lizzie Borden" (interesting!) and waiting for my coffee to brew, I saw a sudden flash of light in the kitchen and smelled smoke.

So I ran into the kitchen to see the coffee maker was on fire! I mean, flames were licking the back of the coffee maker and bursting in the air toward the ceiling. I quickly unplugged the thing and threw a towel over it which smothered the fire but the room was full of smoke.

 The back of the coffee maker was completely melted...

Spent a few hours airing out the house. Still smells. 

Tried to fix the cord and ended up blowing a fuse... I give up!

Just another day at The Pink House.

PS: Good news, my father should be coming home from the hospital today. Thanks everyone for your kind words and prayers!

Melted Coffee Maker

A Bit of a Set Back

I was doing really well, writing every day, swimming every day, Kona and I walking 1.5 miles each morning and feeling pretty good then...

My father was hospitalized last Monday with pneumonia. Since, under the hospital's "expert care", he's suffered two TIA's (mini-strokes) and a fall from his hospital bed. He's still there... 

I was walking Kona the other day, admiring the Halloween decorations (which I do love) and saw one house with a sign that read "DEAD and Breakfast" and "Vacancy".  I tell you, that stopped me in my tracks. All I could think of was how Bob died in his sleep, my sister died in her sleep and --- What's wrong with people? That is so NOT funny.

I asked my grief counselor if I was overly sensitive, but she said that a lot of her clients have similar reactions to some of the halloween decorations and the people who put up those making fun of death probably have never lost someone close to them... they just don't get it.

Anyway, worried about my father. Hoping he will be home soon, so that hospital can't damage him further... Missing Bob, terribly, as he loved Halloween and my birthday is the day after...  Hard to write lately, so been cleaning the house. (It needs it!) 

Prayers, please, for my dad, Les. Thanks. 

Back in the Saddle

I will admit that September was a rough month for me. First my sister's death anniversary, a grim reminder of how short life can be. Then our wedding anniversary, and on that day, it rained and rained and I wasn't able to get out to do the thing I wanted, which was walking around the lake with Kona... I was in a dark place.

The Harvest Moon was in late September. I heard about it on the morning weather and that night, I wanted to go out and see it. Unfortunately, it was raining, hard. No view of the moon from the front porch, so I went to the back porch. Nothing to see, but rain. I thought if I stepped out into the yard perhaps I could see the moon, but it might be obscured by clouds and I would certainly get drenched.

I sat down. Thinking about the rain, how much Bob loved a rainy night. Thinking about my sister, what legacy did she leave behind? Two children, yes, but her whole life seemed to be broken down into things: her house, her belongings and the greed I saw of some who came like vultures circling her "remains" and it all seemed so sad... I still wanted to see the moon, but the rain was unceasing. And I thought, well, I'll get wet. Then thought, call me crazy, but I have a high privacy fence and I glanced toward the neighbors and saw no lights on, so I went inside, striped off my clothes, wrapped myself in a bath towel, stepped out onto the porch then dropped the towel and stepped out into the rain. The pouring rain falling on me.

Feeling like something I can't describe and havn't felt in so long. Freedom? Love? Happiness? Joy, even.

I reach my hands into the air and turned my face to the sky and didn't see the moon, but stood there buck naked, drenched in the pouring rain feeling suddenly free and rebirthed and Bob felt so close to me at that moment, in the rain.

After that night, since that night, I have been writing almost every day for several hours. I haven't had a drop of alcohol (not that I have problem, but it was a way to numb the pain) I swim every day (up to 50 laps now) and walk the dog every morning an entire mile. I also cut my smoking back to about 9 cigs a day. Not quite ready to quit completely yet. I'm sleeping better. Feeling better. And wake in the morning, not dreading the day, but looking forward to it. I want very much to leave a legacy and not end up like my sister. The only way I can do that is through my writing. So this is what I'm concentrating on... This is what Bob wanted. This is my writing life.

Wish me luck to stay the course....