Author: Peg

Looked out my window and what did I see? Blue sky! That’s a really welcome sight. 

Absolutely nothing to report. IMHO the Asylum is pursuing a potentially imprudent financial course. A meeting with the CFO did little to assuage my concerns. But, I’ll be dead before they go bankrupt. So, I am not going to worry. You see, there are some advantages to old age.

Went to a memorial service this afternoon. Living in an Old Folks Asylum – you become a connoisseur of these events. I don’t need a memorial service or celebration of my life. If anyone cares, how about a nice dinner and some adult beverages? If I go the Carlton route and become a “first patient” AKA med school  cadaver at Georgetown – they will have a far better service for me than I  deserve anyway. 

Along this same morbid path. I decided to start my “I am dead, now what?” project with 1Password. I would clean up my password manager. The deed is done. I have 132 passwords/logins. That is AFTER I deleted any duplicates and archived those that I don’t think I will ever use again. But, I honestly believe that my 1Password account gives anyone all the information they need to get everything sorted after I am dead.  

I provided treats for The Princess Cat today. I guess I didn’t produce them soon enough, because I got the Glare of Death. Cats are so cool. They don’t give a damn about anything except their own comfort and pleasure. Like me!

Went to dinner with some of my workmates this evening. Great time. Good food. Just like old times. The restaurant was packed even on a Tuesday night. 

Still chilly and wet. More like cold and wet. Today I put the fan away and put the heading pad by my comfy chair. 

One year without Carlton was hard. Eight years without Carlton is doable. But, damn, I loved that man. Still do.

GRATITUDE

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Grateful that Carlton left me feeling much loved and well cared for.

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In honor of the ever-organized Carlton, I am going to tidy up my life’s loose ends. Before Carlton died, my stuff was tidy. And in The Red Folder. Because, if I went first – I didn’t want Carlton to be annoyed because he had to fit all the pieces together. Well, there’s no one left that I need to impress. But, it would be stupid to have my estate paying some law clerk $500/hour to figure out how to get into my computers to find out how many online subscriptions I have, etc. I have the important stuff done. It’s just the thousand little things. Like what’s the lock code for the phone? And how do you stop paying for Photoshop every month? And does anyone want to keep this blog alive? Well, if anyone does, someone’s going to have to pay the hosting fees. Just all the crap of digital life. (It goes without saying that Carlton’s stuff was shipshape. And 100% offline.)

One of my friends has a book: I Am Dead, Now What? She is filling it out. I am not a book-type person. So, I’ll be rolling my own. 

It is chilly and damp and that means it’s time to go to Kona. Except that this is Ironman Week.

Ironman Week means that it is way too busy for me. Not to mention there are no rooms to be had. 

Big news from my floor at The Asylum. My next-door neighbor had a visit from a field mouse. Wonder if a robot cat could handle a real mouse?

In-law kiddos came to visit this afternoon. It was fun. They left beer, wine, chocolate, and baklava behind and took away some origami. I got the best end of the deal.

We went to an old Salvadoran/Mexican dive for an early dinner.  I always enjoyed eating there, but getting to it by bus isn’t easy, so I haven’t been there since Covid. 

It was a rainy day, so I worked on the directions for my origami bat. And did a couple of work reports. 

And, I can now say “I am going to Hawai’i this month.”

Spent most of the day perfecting the bat and working on my bat diagram. Also got in my fitness walk. 

But where did September go? And why did September take my money with it? I have 7% less money than I had on September 1. And, I can assure you that I didn’t spend that money on booze, drugs, men, or Lise Charmel underwear. The most exciting thing I did in September was take the bus to get my blood drawn.

Tonight we celebrated my friend Sally’s husband’s 103 birthday. With steak and ice cream. We decided that between the 7 of us we have more than a few departed husbands (dearly and otherwise) and perhaps we should celebrate all of their birthdays. 

I sorta wasted the entire day. Accomplished zero zip nada. But, I didn’t kill anyone. 

Let’s see: the wifi is working. Octopus is not on the menu tonight.  There is free wine tonight. So, I’ll put today in the “Good” column.

At least until I looked at my investments.

Gone bat shit crazy trying to make origami directions for this “easy” bat. I will never again criticize any origami directions. And I now totally understand why the person who does the diagrams gets a “credit”. But, it is keeping the elderly brain working. 

I love getting “junk” emails from my travels. I haven’t a clue what they are trying to sell me. But, it brings back good memories and maybe another trip—this case to Norway.

Bummer. WiFi seems to have died again. Thank St. Synchronous for an excellent grandmothered-in data plan. 

You know you need to get a life when having your blood drawn is the big event of your day. Other than being seriously caffeine deficient – my blood tested fine. Never mind that the container is showing its age. And, I am working on the caffeine deficiency. 

But, I would love one.

I decided to be a grown-up and get my lipid and metabolic panels done and check in with my doctor. I could have it done here. But, I really don’t trust the Asylum’s health care operation. Which is rather sad. Because I moved in here for health care. (When I signed up to move in, my doctor was a part of the Asylum’s health care operation. Give me a little credit.)

One of our current doctor choices has this on her website: “…These procedures include a range of injectibles, such as botox, fillers, and mesotherapy, as well as Platelet Rich Plasma, colorfully known as “Vampire PRP.” Just imagine getting Vampire PRP from a doctor (me) who was born and raised in Transylvania! This procedure is in my blood!… ” She might be a very fine doctor. But, I ain’t letting her anywhere near my body.

It’s not easy making the diagrams. It doesn’t help that I haven’t used Inkscape in over 10 years. But, I am working on remembering the basics. Hey, it’s good to keep those neurons firing. 

And, another good thing:

One bean produces a lot of beans. I am letting a few pods go to seed and I will plant another bean next year. 

OK, time to face it. I am old.  Old old in fact.

Adulthood is usually divided into several periods: young or early adulthood (approximately aged 20–39), middle adulthood (40–59), and old age (60+). Old age is typically divided into the periods of young old (60–75) and old old (75 and up). (Neugarten and Hagestead 1976).

So, what brought this on? Well, today I am achy and creaky all over. Well, especially my back. And, last night I was thinking about where to stash my granddaughter when she comes to visit and what might we do? (Already booked to nights at Volcano – hoping the Volcano cooperates.) A lot of things I just don’t do anymore. Don’t surf. Still have a PADI card, but I don’t feel safe diving anymore. I am used to swimming out to the ¼-mile buoy and then back to shore. I don’t know if I am going to do that this winter. I can not walk as far or fast as I could just a few years ago. No amount of exercise stops the degradation. 

And let’s not even think about what’s happening to the brain. 

The entire process is singularly unpleasant.

On a positive note. Nice pizza for dinner tonight. And. I discovered that Inkscape still exists. And it’s still free. I want to make some OldPeople-Friendly origami diagrams.  It’s not all bad.

Seven years ago today, I moved from my much-loved apartment into The Asylum. The Old Bat Cave is a fine apartment. The location is marginal. My old neighborhood walkability index was 87. Here it is 66. For me that is huge. But, I knew that moving in. And I am safely ensconced in my “forever home”.  Provided the joint doesn’t go broke.  Or we have too many drive-bys.

Speaking of drive-bys. All is well in the ‘hood today. 

And, more telephone wildlife photography.

I am amused by bird names. There isn’t a red feather anywhere near that woodpecker’s belly.  It doesn’t matter what sex or what age the bird is. It never has a red belly anywhere except in its name. Carlton’s theory was: The people who named birds were falling down drunk. Works for me.