Nobody is Promised Tomorrow. . .
It wasn’t cold. So, I made a few laps around the outside of the building. Watered the orchids, read a trashy book, did some origami, played with the light. Just a normal Sunday.
I will not be among the protestors. Honestly, I am too old. I have been to protests and marches, and even peaceful parades require more stamina than I can realistically count on having on any given day. There is no reason to suspect this will be an incident-free assembly. But, I hope it is.
But before the rain started, I walked to Trader Joe. It’s two miles roundtrip, and that seemed like plenty of fresh air and exercise. Evil weather is on tap next week. So, I made a little soup today.
I have a tiny little trip planned to the beach for a few days just before Easter. Maybe I should look for a door to summer before then.
Dinner was not up to The Asylum’s usual low standards. However, we had a great time. An extra cocktail, a couple of glasses of wine, and six wonderful friends made up for it.
If you have to live in an old folks asylum, surround yourself with friends, insist that the asylum has a saloon that lets you run a tab and that an understanding wine merchant delivers.
How is that for gratitude, Carlton? BTW. I still love you.
. . .
On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron. H.L. Menchen, Baltimore Sun, July 26, 1920.
It just gets better and better.
It can’t be that hard, woman. You must be grateful for something—something positive. Okay, grateful that the sun made an appearance this afternoon, that I was able to take a walk outside this morning, and that my Kindle is stuffed with books. I am truly grateful that I moved myself into the Asylum in 2015 when I was still young enough to do it. Grateful for my afternoon coffee and cookie. Is that grateful enough, Carlton?
Whenever I was grumpy Carlton would tell me to make a Gratitude List.
And for the good news. . . At least according to one of my brokers:
Life Expectancy: There’s a 50% chance Peg will live to be at least 90 years old.
Or maybe that would be the bad news. Just think. In 10 years, I could still be sitting here in this same damn chair wondering who ever thought that black-eyed pea and spinach stew was a good idea for dinner.
Grateful for my good chicken soup, an excellent brownie, and coffee. Grateful that I got a nice cardio workout using the stairs and hallways. There is no need to experience winter firsthand.
Spent most of the day cleaning up after the huge slideshow project. I had 640 photos in my catalog and on my computer. Needed to package them up and put them on an external drive never to be seen again. I couldn’t manage to put them in the trash. I am a digital packrat.
The good thing is The Nation’s Capital has vanished! Unfortunately, I suspect that it is still there. Fuck reality.
Grateful for zoom yoga, good soup, coffee, cookies, afternoon naps, cosy blankets
The Princess Cat, who is in kitty-paliative-care, was looking very kittenish yesterday.
Today’s exciting old woman adventures, working on the taxes. And going for a nice outdoor walk. Tomorrow promises snow.
Never fun paying taxes. I used to take comfort in Justice Holmes: I like to pay taxes. With them, I buy civilization. That’s not working this year.
Got our friend out of the Emergency Department “Observation” Unit this afternoon.
Got all the orchids watered and fertilized.
Didn’t kill anybody.
A good day. Oh, and there’s a football game tonight.
Off to the ED this morning with a friend. The results of her tests were coming into her phone long before a doctor showed up. So, we reviewed her labs, ekg, and cat scans. We decided she didn’t have a stoke. (Never mind what we decided, they are keeping her overnight anyhow!)
Take care of each other. Each other is all we have when we get old. Each other is all we have when we are young too. But we don’t realize it. At least I didn’t.
This was a post-Covid memorial service. It was at the UU church. Live streamed back to the Chapel at The Asylum and I presume to friends all across the country as well.
My photo slides looped before the service, they were live streamed afterwards and were shown continuously at several locations. I was gratified to see people watching rather intently and some were surprised to find themselves a part of the show.
This young guy made it all happen. He had a ton of gear. And was wise enough to hire an assistant. We talked while waiting on 5PM to come. When we could pack up and go home. All I had to do was disconnect my computer from the church’s huge TV in the reception area. The kid and his assistant had cases and bags and more cases of stuff to pack. Apparently, it showed up very nicely at The Asylum. Big thanks to Looks Great Productions. He made my job much easier.
And playing with the light. Isn’t that what I always do?
And here is the newest orphaned orchid. I feel sure that it came from the grocery store next door. I repotted it this morning. Trimmed it up a bit and gave it a hit of fertilizer. For now, it is in quarantine. I think it’s OK. But, better to keep it away from the rest of the orchids for a month or so. I am a tiny bit sorry that this one came with blooms. I always look forward to seeing what my foundlings grow into. It’s even a big deal to me when they produce their first new leaf.
Hot showers, hot coffee, dark chocolate, bar tab at The Asylum, avocado toast.
Chipping away at my taxes. My guy is 100% online. You can not even pay him by check. Zero Paper.
So, what am I going to do about the current state of the nation? I am going to run up my bar tab!
It’s gray and chilly with an ice storm promised. But, I made it outside for a couple of fast laps around our “wilderness trail”. And a faster dash over to the grocery.
Working on the taxes today. And wondering when the revolution is going to start. And who will start it?
