Quickie circumnavigation of the block, by way of running off some neurotic frustration. Come 2:30 in the afternoon, the pavement out there is WAY too hot for Ruby the Corgi’s little feet. So, to her disgust, she got left home while her human sweltered its way down the road.
HOLEE mackerel, it’s hot out there! Back porch thermometer reads 109 degrees: fully in the shade!
Ugh! WHY do I stay in this godawful place?
Well: there’s a question…one that drives the next question: WHERE would I go other than this godawful place?
My son is here, and I have no desire to move away from him. Nor do I have any desire to move TO the alternatives.
- San Francisco Bay Area: love it, but can’t afford it
- Southern California: and how is that any better than here?
- San Diego: don’t know anyone there anymore; don’t wanna start all over
- Ft. Worth, Texas: All my relatives have moved or croaked over; don’t know anyone left there
On and on…really, there isn’t anyplace where I’d rather live than here.
Actually, Arizona has a lot to recommend it, surprisingly enough.
Phoenix is an actual big city, with big-city amenities.
When I was teaching, Arizona State University (on the other side of the Valley) paid a decent salary and hired me full-time.
This place does have a cultural life, believe it or not: two excellent museums in Phoenix alone, plus a couple of theater troupes and historical museums and three universities — one of them nationally prominent — and a plethora of historic sites, and…on and on. It’s a pretty nice and reasonably interesting place to live, to tell the truth.
And it has slews of decent restaurants — including some that exceed decent. I no longer eat out, but when Dear Husband was in the offing, we raided the local eateries a couple times a week.
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And now it’s coming on to 6:00 p.m. Cleaning Lady from Heaven is still blasting around, bless her. Outside: 108 degrees, or so we’re told by Wunderground. Could be: it’s hotter than the hubs out there.
Talk about jobs you’d druther not have! Cleaning people’s houses: eek!
She does an excellent job…well, actually, she’s a Godsend. This place is beyond spotless by the time she goes out the door.
And what that means, in the current short run, is that the next time the government busybodies come over here to inspect my lifestyle, they’ll think I run around cleaning my house every day.
Yes. Somebody sends busybodies to check on me. They come from some office in the State of Arizona. So far they’ve been no worse than a passing nuisance — largely, I suspect, because of this fine woman’s work. Yes: I do clean my house…but nothing like as magnificently as she does. Last time the State’s spies dropped by, she had just been here…and so they saw…
* no dust anywhere
* freshly vacuumed and mopped tile floors throughout (the shack has no carpets)
* sparkling clean kitchen counters and appliances
* sparkling clean bathrooms
* a freshly made bed
* shiny clean windows
She’s just finishing up right now…and once again the place is as clean and organized as a museum.
I do hope Big Brother’s last inspection actually will be the last. That surprise descent upon my home was truly infuriating! Who they HELL do they think they are, nosing through my house? Out of the blue, without my invitation or permission!
Anyway, if we’ve gotten rid of those busybodies, it will be solely because of CL from H’s excellent work.