Coffee heat rising

Jayzuz! STOP THE WORLD!!!

Problem is, stopping the world and jumping off prob’ly won’t do me much good today….  If I touch it, it goes SPRRROOOOOINNNGGG!!!

What a mess. literally: everything I touch is what a mess. 

Well…the computer is letting me type…sorta. We’ll see if it saves to disk, and we’ll see if it lets this post go online.

How do I doubt it?
….and….
How do I doubt it?

Oh, well.  On the brighter side, my son has kindly volunteered to make a grocery-store run for me.

On the dimmer side…by myself, I couldn’t get to the store for love nor money. To say nothing of to the store and back home. This business of kiping my car puts me in one helluva bind!  Whatever I need to get done, I can’t do. Wherever I need to go, I can’t get there.

Whinge!!!

Y’know…an annoying aspect of this fiasco is that my great-aunt and her mother, my great-grandmother, lived in Berkeley for decades and never had — or needed — a car. Sooo…why do I feel I can’t survive without a vehicle?

The aunt worked in San Francisco, a top-level functionary at Crocker-Anglo National Bank. She walked a block up the hill from her home, hopped on a light-rail train, and rode into the city. Hopped off practically in front of the bank.

The great-grandmother used to walk up that hill every day or two to shop at the neighborhood grocery store and drugstore. Then she’d haul the groceries two blocks back down the hill.

They both lived well into their 90s, with no ailments that they ever complained about. Now…they were Christian Scientists and so they didn’t complain about their ailments. Prayed them away, right?  But truth to tell: they appeared to be in the pink of health right up to their end: in their 90s.

Hmmmm…. Lookee here! This is Saturn’s Day! 

Hot dayum! Somehow, despite my good son’s offer to schlep to the grocery store, I had the idea we were in a weekday!

Man! Talk about unstuck in time!

Well. This is good. It means he’ll be able to kill a couple of hours on my errands, and I won’t have to risk life & limb walking (hobbling?) to the slum grocery store to the north of us.

Heh. Actually, that store is a supermarket. And a pretty nice one. But the neighborhood surrounding it is a bit…alarming. I do NOT like to go up there on foot, and most of the time, once in a car I’ll go somewhere else.

And therein lies the difference between my aunt’s transportation challenge and mine. It was not unsafe for her to walk from her house to the train stop, nor was it unsafe for her to ride across the Bay, get off in downtown San Francisco, and walk into the bank

Lemme tellya: you could not pay me to ride a bus or that damn lightrail into downtown Phoenix. Nor would I get out and walk around down there. That is NOT what any woman in her right mind does.

Phoenix is L.A. East…and that is not sayin’ a good thing.

Hotter Than the Hubs…Again…

Don’t even wanna KNOW what the temp is out there! Let’s see what we can find out from Wunderground, thereby stoking our neurosis without having to get up and walk onto the back porch to look at the thermometer…

Ah! A chilly 106 degrees in the shade…at 4:54 p.m.

Balmy, eh?

Stupidly, I walked down to the Albertson’s shopping center a couple hours ago. Extraordinarily bad idea! Just about fricaseed by the time I stumbled back in the house.

And…and…WHY is it so freakin’ hot in here, two hours later?

Because the AC is off. Or something….it’s set to some brain-banging STUPID temperature.

Just discovered that fiasco! Turned the unit back on (WHO the hell turned it off, and why?????). Set it for 77.

The motor just started to run. Temp inside the house is in the 80s just now–far as I can tell. May be higher. So it’ll take a couple hours to cool back down into a bearable temperature.

Well, it’s only a bit after 5:00 p.m. at the moment. So by bed-time, maybe the house will be sleep-able….

My hair is soaking wet. And since I haven’t been in the pool, that ain’t a good sign.

What the HECK happened here? This is not a cleaning-lady day. Far as I can recall, no workmen have been in the house. And you may be sure I wouldn’t have turned the AC off.  Soooo….how did the thermostat get set at a Hades-like temp?????

Jeez. I wonder if someone could have come in the house and, in a moment of funny-ha-ha humor, messed with the thermostat? But…who?  Cleaning lady?  WHY? She’s no vicious nut case, and so wouldn’t have done a thing like that. Plumber? Don’t think he has a key.

Is it possible to dork with the thermostat from outside the house? If you get on the roof with the unit, for example?

Oh well. The thing is blasting cool air into the room just now. Soon it will be blasting a vast power bill into the house….

 

Old Age Creepin’ Up…

LOL!  I swear-ta-gawd, the whole “old age” cliché gets closer and closer to reality the more years you spend on this earth.

Just up the road from the Funny Farm — really, within walking distance on a temperate day — stands an aging shopping mall called Metrocenter.

It used to be a hangout for young folks, back in the day when I was a young pup. Several huge department stores, yes; but also a passel of cute little shops and fast-food eateries and ice cream shops and…on and on. As the morning sun glows here in the Funny Farm’s front patio, I was just thinking I’d like to run over there this afternoon and grab some ice cream. Maybe do some shopping in the fancy little shops or the big, gorgeous department stores.  But…

Uhm…

Noooo…wake up, dearie! Metrocenter is no more. They’re tearing it down and turning the site into a fancy residential project, complete with its own shopping center. Looks like it’s probably going to be private, or pretty close to it.

That’s too bad. It was a fun place to hang out. Makes one feel bad, because you realize you’re the one who is no more! 

Hotter than the Hubs

Ruby and I must have gotten a later start on the morning’s neighborhood stroll than I thought, at the time we set out. Lordie, it’s AFTER 10:00 A.M. Not good, on a “spring” (hah!) morning in lovely uptown Phoenix.

Holeee doggerel, is it hot out there. 

Y’know what job I’d most NOT like to have, here in lovely uptown Phoenix? ANY job that requires you to work outside!

This morning we passed a crew of guys who were gutting out and renovating the Alleged Molester’s house. This, actually, is a handsome middle-class home backing right onto the park. It was occupied by a family whose son dated some girl who was a few days under the age of consent. Hopped into the sack with her…and they were hard at it when her mother came home and caught them in the act.

The mother called the cops, and the young fella was arrested for statutory rape. He went to prison. His parents lost their shirts. They ended up abandoning the house, which turned into a wreck and has been standing decrepit on that corner for upwards of a year.

Well, someone has gotten ahold of it, apparently, and they’re shoveling it out and renovating it. You don’t even wanna know what that project must cost. The pool was drained and allowed to stand dry for well upwards of a year, so it’s ruined: basically ha$ to be rebuilt. The roof has been redone. Workers inside the house seem to be pulling out and replacing almost everything.

If they put it on the market, it’ll be interesting to see how much they try to get for it.

Two lots to the east, another house is being gutted out and renovated. Another huge project: who can even imagine the cost?

Well, if and when the speculators put those houses on the market, we shall see what they do for the price of real estate here in the ‘Hood. The other properties on that street are pretty upscale, so I imagine we’ll see the whole area go through the financial roof.

ARF! we say….and GLUB!

Loafing on the front porch this gorgeous morning…waiting for a workman to confront the day’s catastrophe.

Boyoboy, am I tired of catastrophes. This stuff makes a box in the sky down on Central Avenue look good! Nice aspect of apartment living: someone else takes care of the damned repairs.

This morning the irrigation system sprang a leak. I found out about it only because the neighbor across the street, one of the WonderAccountants, came over to tell me the road between our houses was flooded from curb to curb.

Looovvveeeleeeeee….

So now we’re waiting for an irrigation plumber to show up. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

He probably has several other jobs to attend to this morning. So it’ll be half the day before I can go on about my business. And by then, waaayyyy too hot for Ruby the Corgi’s morning walk.

Contemplating: Maybe SDXB was right to sell up and move to Sun City. 

Even though he still ends up with a free-standing house to take care of…a gravel yard presents almost zero maintenance issues. Taxes out there are lower. Burglars are pretty much uninterested in you. Two hospitals — neither of them very good, but neither of them much worse than most of the others in the Valley — await your next stroke or heart attack. Not a bad deal, overall.

If M’hijto weren’t here in town — conveniently located to both me and to his father & stepmother — I might very well have followed SDXB back out to the far, noisy west side.

Or not.

I did hate living there when my parents owned their end-of-life home…ah…here’s our plumber!!!!!  Awayyyyyy…..

****

A-a-a-n-d… Now the plumbers are here. They’ve dug up the yard around the side gate. Hevvin only knows how much they’ll charge for this little adventure!

I sure don’t wanna know.

Ohhhhhh man! What a job! Wayyyy up there in the Department of Jobs You’re Glad You Don’t Have!!

Seriously, though, these guys have amazing skills. Not only did they figure out the problem within a few minutes of attacking the watering contraption, now they’ve taken it apart and are merrily (uhm…welll…) reconstructing it.

****

JAYZUZ! Two hundred and seventy bucks!  To repair a leaking pipe!

Sheeeee-ut!

Well…to be fair, they had to dig up a corner of the yard. Excavate the equipment that regulates the water flow on the west side. Install new parts…in the mud…

Gawd only knows how much this little cavort will run up the water bill. Literally: the road was flooded curb to curb before Tom (neighbor) noticed  and called me.

Honestly, sometimes I do think a box in the sky would be a better habitation for an old bat. But…then I remember living in one.

My parents and I lived in a box in the sky in San Francisco, in a tract called ParkMerced. It actually was a cool place to live: I loved both of the apartments we occupied successively: first a high-rise and then a pleasant little two-story garden apartment.

But…y’know… Apartment developments are crowded. They can be noisy. And expensive: monthly rental can add up. And add up. And add up. Here the only payments I make — on four bedrooms plus a diving pool and two patios and four citrus trees — are for taxes and utilities. This house really is about as ideal as it can get, for an old bat and her dawg.

Hmmm…. Yep! Count up the blessings of a high-rise apartment, the blessings of a cheaply built tract house out in Sun City, and the blessings of this house…and this house wins, paws down.

  • Decent neighborhood
  • Low-maintenance landscaping
  • Block walls around the back & side yards
  • Orange trees
  • Lemon tree
  • Lime tree
  • Climbing roses
  • Cute little kids living all around in the neighborhood
  • Lightrail train running up and down Main Drag West
  • Two major regional hospitals — one of them within walking distance
  • One of the best public school districts in the city
  • Three middle- to upscale shopping centers within walking distance

I’m sure one could ask for more…but personally, I can’t imagine what that would be. 

UN-Be-LIEV-able!

Literally unbelievable, as it happens today.

This afternoon, in came a hustling piece of snail-mail, trying to get me to Send Money Now and HURRY to sign up for that wondrous product. It looked like BS to me…sort of. But..but…sort of NOT.

Actually, it seemed to be trying to say my homeowner’s insurance is expiring and I need to renew a policy…right now!

Fortunately, the WonderAccountants were home. They live right across the street.

So I took the wad of paper over there. They looked at it and shortly decided it was a scam. Out with it!

Actually, it took them a few minutes of studying the thing to come to that conclusion. You can be sure that if they were given pause, I would never have been able to figure out that it was a scam.

Lordie! This stuff just comes avalanching in on us! When you need a professional to assess the validity of a piece of junk mail…ohhhh gawd! What kind of world DO we live in???

What incredible luck that those two wonderful folks moved into the house across the road! They’ve saved my tail feathers more than once!