Author: Peg

Nice laidback oldlady kinda day. Got 8,000 steps. Enough cardio. Folded some paper. Watered my garden box. Had a nice piña colada. Got the 2024 photos all culled, cataloged, and off the Mac and onto an external drive.

Gave up on reading Gregory Maguire’s After Alice. The book had been hanging out in my library for over six years. Made it more than ½ way through. But, it’s not worth the effort to finish.

That’s the good. Head in the sand again. When I peeked at the news, 47 is still prez, and Bezos caved again. Damn it will be hard to give up Amazon. Not a problem giving up Tesla. But Amazon? That would be serious. It might come to that. But, what about Alexa and Kindle? Just keep using them and not replace them, I guess. Oh, and there is Audible and Zappos, too.

There should have been contrails. Flights start taking off from National Airport at 6AM. 

Gratitude

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Grateful for a sunny spring day, grateful that I still have most of my wits about me, grateful for great friends.

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The big chatter in my Asylum family is “Do I need an Elder Care Manager”? We are all “elders”. And none of us need “care” –full stop– YET. Some of the group are thinking about an Elder Care Manager to spare their children. And there are those of us who don’t have children. I have a lawyer. She is my Medical Power of Attorney, my Financial Power of Attorney, and the executor of my will. I am guessing that if she thinks I need an Elder Care Manager, she will hire one.  Elder Care Managers cost $100 – $300 bucks an hour. Old age ain’t cheap. Or easy. 

 

He is a good guy and a willing participant in our annual “talent” show. He is responsible for about 900 residents and staff and a dozen of the most unreliable elevators on the East Coast. 

Spent about 30 minutes after dinner helping a friend take apart 4 large and undoubtedly expensive funeral service floral wreaths. Seemed like an incredible waste of money. Wouldn’t one have been more than enough? 

Now I am sneezing like crazy. Too many lilies. 

Today, I made a little list of “chores” for the day. All of them are checked off except an origami “chore” to finish making 25 cranes. I have 4 left. None of these chores were very taxing.

The most taxing task was “spend 30 minutes cleaning the closet.” The big problem with the closet is the shoes, so I fell into one of the greatest housekeeping traps of this century. Obviously, my shoe problem would be solved if I purchased a “storage solution.” I am impatient to solve this problem, so off I go to the strip mall.

This car hauler was in the parking lot. Oh, and it was raining. But that didn’t stop me. I was on a mission.

Fortunately, while rummaging around Home Goods, I realized what I was doing, and I marched myself back home—still in the rain.

Back home, in less than 5 minutes, shoe problem solved. Cost ZERO.

I don’t think the eagle is done yet!

Today I did stuff. I made 15 cranes while listening to an audiobook. That would be multiprocessing. And I sorted out some accounting data that Quicken had messed up for me. I didn’t need to fix the accounting issue. It was messed up. But it really wasn’t important. Except to me. I like my accounting to be tidy.

We hear much about “The last rose of summer.” What about the first rose of summer?

Like yesterday, I did stuff today. And like yesterday, I have nothing to show for it. But, I feel like I accomplished something today. I just don’t know what it is.

The Asylum has at least one of these trees on the grounds. I know that I am not supposed to like the Paulownia. It’s very invasive. But I am not supposed to like the parrots in Hawai’i either. They are very invasive.

I like the parrots.

I took a nice long walk this morning. Trying to stay in shape so I can make as many protests as possible. It’s past time for action.

Did stuff all day. But nothing was accomplished. Tomorrow is another day.

I folded some paper before breakfast.

The largest crane was the hard paper. If found it stashed away in a box with “good” papers. Well, damn it, it’s past time to use the good stuff. Even the “hard good” stuff. I think the three will make a nice string of 3 cranes.

Gratitude

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1. 1. Grateful for a nice warm, sunny day.
   2. Grateful that I can still get to the yoga class I have attended for over a decade.
   3. Grateful that when yoga class is over I can hoof it to the dentist that’s a mile away in less than 20 minutes.
   4. Grateful that the dentist didn’t find anything that he needed to fix.
   5. Grateful that the bus to bring me home was waiting at the stop. 
   6. Grateful that I could have taken Uber if I missed the bus.

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It has been a fine day. In my own little personal bubble. Outside the bubble. Not good. It’s past time for action.

Damn. That shit is still here. I enjoyed 24 hours with my head buried in the sand. And guess what? When I popped up, the batshit crazy man is still running the country into ruin. And my investment portfolio – AKA what I live on – continues to erode.

That wasn’t particularly refined and grandmotherly, was it? Well, I did think my granddaughters would have fewer rights than I had, either. 

Shared Easter Brunch with the Asylum Family. Lox, Bagels, Cheesecake.

Walked 4.5 miles. Took a nap. Folded Paper. Meeting up with most of the Asylum family to finish Thursday’s birthday cake soon. A fine day.

As long as I keep my head in the sand.

 

I seek refuge in imagination, pretending the concrete walk is a woodland escape and that our republic’s current nightmare isn’t real. Unfortunately, reality bites back – the path is concrete, the nightmare undeniable.

But look closely: there are sparks of resistance, small signs that ‘we the people’ are beginning to organize, even if Congress remains inert and the Courts’ judgments uncertain. This reminds me of Tolkien’s exchange between Frodo and Gandalf. Frodo wished the darkness hadn’t fallen in his time, and Gandalf agreed, adding the essential truth: “…All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

That decision point is here. People, crucially including younger generations, are starting to decide what to do. The real weight of the coming struggle will fall on the shoulders of the 20-to-60-year-olds. While figures like Angus King and Bernie Sanders lead in their way, they are just two elderly individuals. Note well that these two old white men are neither Democrat nor Republican. But simply Americans.

It’s Friday, so it’s Happy Hour. And it’s another Birthday for one of the Asylum family members. That means cake, ice cream, and snarky cards. Old people are a lot like 6-year-olds when it comes to birthdays. We are a lot like 6-year-olds in many ways.

The oldest grand and one of her kiddos. An African porcupine.

I am terrified about the coming months. But, just for today… I am trying to be calm.