Coffee heat rising

Aging in place

GET’em!!!

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Boyoboy, would I love to be able to GET them: the bastards who start blitzing me with phone soliciting around 7 a.m., and on into the morning.

Phone soliciting should be illegal.

Yeah, I know: freedom of speech and all that. Sure… But you can be free of speech at a decent hour of the morning.

Yeah, I know: they’re trying to catch you before you leave for work.

But freedom to hustle people is no excuse for driving the marks nuts. I am so sick of the phone soliciting harassment, I’ve seriously thought of disconnecting the phone service. Who the Hell needs a phone if all it’s going to be used for is to pester you?

Yeah, I know: turn off the phone during periods when you don’t want to be hassled.

But…my son uses that phone to get in touch with me. What if something happens that he needs to get ahold of me RIGHT NOW…and I’ve disconnected all the phones?

The bastards have got you coming and got you going!

***

Gorgeous morning! Sunny and balmy at once. 

Ruby and I circumambulated a route that SDXB and I used to take every day, back when he lived here. Goes through a neighborhood of tidy middle-class homes, probably dating back to the 1960s. All green and grassy and tree-shaded now: a very pretty route to walk in the mornings.

One of our favorite neighbors, The Ole Guy, lived on this route. He would be out puttering in the yard every morning — we would pause and chat with him.

No sign of him today. Probably moved into the Beatitudes when he had to consign his wife to the place, a prison for the decrepit. She refused to go, when he realized she had reached a point where he could no longer take care of her. Finally, it became clear that the only way he could shove her into that place would be to go there with her.

The Beatitudes is a terrifying old-folkerie, one that’s been in Phoenix for years. Sooner or later, most of us who survive into old age will be forced to move into such a place. But oh, my!  The horror!!

Institutional living is not my Thing, that’s for sure. I hated living in the dorms at the university, and you can be sure a prison for old folks isn’t anywhere near as tame as a college dormitory. Sincerely do I hope I will die before I can be carted off to one of those places…but there’s not much hope for that, given the longevity in my family and my own vigorous health.

My father had himself locked up in a similar place, one called Orangewood — now called the Terraces. My mother had refused to go. Upshot: he had to take care of her at home as she lay dying of the cancer brought on by her rabid smoking habit. But the minute she died — frankly, I think that’s no exaggeration — he put the house on the market and signed himself into the old-folks’ prison.

He didn’t mind that lifestyle. Having gone to sea all of his adult life, he was used to crowded, institutional living and bad food.

I, however, would far, FAR rather be dead than locked up in one of those horrid places. And you may be sure that if I have to do so, I will engineer exactly that. No way in Hell am I gonna spend my “golden years” (har har!) in Decrepitude Hell.

For what those places cost, though, I do believe you can hire people to come into your home and babysit you into the Next World. They’re horribly expensive institutions. And really: if you’re not a stroke-induced vegetable — if you can still hobble around your house and bathe yourself and lift a fork to your mouth — you can make exactly that kind of hire.

Well…there are better fates. One could instantly drop dead of a stroke, for example.

Let us hope for that!

Strange Arizona Afternoon

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Saturday. 

Overcast and gray. 

Hot and humid.

Betcha didn’t know Arizona could get humid, eh?

Well…yeah, it sure can. Sometimes even damp enough for rain to congeal out of a clear sky!

That’s not the case just now: it indeed is overcast. Not raining yet, but feels like it sure would like to rain.

Ruby and I circumnavigated the neighborhood before the sky could make up its mind about that. So…gray and dank as it is out there, we at least didn’t get rained on.

This is the kind of day that reminds you of (un)lovely Saudi Arabia. Hot, gray, and dank pretty much described most of the summertime there!  How CAN I say how glad this human is to be back in the United States?!?

It is, though, the kind of day that makes me wish I were still dwelling in the San Francisco Bay Area, whither my mother’s family. My great-grandmother and her daughter — my great-aunt — lived in Berkeley, in a little Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired bungalow. So very pretty!! I do miss it.

But of course I can’t afford to live in the Bay Area…so forget that daydream. 😀

Some days I love living in Arizona. Others, I rather hate it…  Today is not a “love living here” day. 😀

But it’s not a “hate it” day, either. The sky is decorated with fluffy, floating clouds. A pair of black birds march around the back patio. Ruby, having marched all over the ‘Hood, is conkered out at the foot of the bed. A table fan blows tepid air at us. And I’d be asleep if I could be asleep. Which I can’t, not at this time of day.

Just invited my son to dinner, via email… He likely will decline: he’s less than thrilled with running around town after a full day of work. But it was nice to try, eh?

Chances are, too, that’s he’s put in a substantial numbers of work hours: Saturday notwithstanding. But chances are, too, that he’ll have something better to do with a Saturday evening than spend it with his muther. Oh, well: at least he’ll know I’m thinkin’ of him! <3

 

 

April 22, Continued!

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Gerardo the Lawn Dude’s crew just shot out the front gate, headed for their next customer. Good lord! Do those guys ever WORK. 

This house’s yard isn’t even that huge — much of it is occupied by the swimming pool, and another third of it by the paved front patio. It still takes them upwards of an hour (i lose track!) to rake and blower and rake some more and shovel and haul and clean and trim and shovel & haul some more and…on and freakin’ ON! That is not a job I could do even if I were male and healthy enough for it.

Forked over a hundred bucks to them….which is more than their usual fee. But IMHO what they did today was more than their usual ungawdly slug of labor. I sure couldn’t do it. Wouldn‘t do it. They are amazing gents. 

What now, for the rest of the day?

If I had any sense, I’d walk over to the Sprouts (remember: my son having purloined my car, if I can’t get somewhere on foot then I have to hire an Uber driver).

But…well…sense is not my strong suite this morning. Nope

Don’t feel like traipsing around in the heat, and so I ain’t a-gunna. Tomorrow morning I may stroll down to the Albertson’s (same distance, but don’t have to cross 7 lanes of homicidal traffic to get in the front door) and restock the supplies.

And “in the heat” is the operative term: It’s overcast and HOT and muggy out there. Just walking across the yard works up a sweat. The Albertson’s is open at the crack of proverbial dawn, so if I start the hike as soon as the dawg is fed (that IS at the crack of proverbial dawn!), I may be able to get down there and back without an attack of heat prostration.

Hmmmmmm….  When you spend this much time loafing, a lot of weird thoughts cross your mind. One of them, just now, is the idea that not owning that car is saving me so much money that I probably could afford to hire taxicabs to take me everyplace I go and still come out ahead financially.

No kidding.

Hiring someone to drive you hither, thither, and back may not cost as much as owning a car, paying taxes, insurance, and maintenance on it, keeping it filled with gas….paying to park it…hmmm, indeed….

No kidding, indeed: I’ve just about decided not to replace that vehicle at all. Why bother if I can get everyplace I need to go behind hired drivers? Without doubt for less than I’ve been spending on the Dog Chariot!

Within easy walking distance of the Funny Farm — just a few blocks, under a forest of shade trees — is a car rental place. Get in good with those guys, and…well…seriously, there WOULD be no reason to own another car. If they know me, they get paid on time, and they figure I’ll bring their heap back to them, very probably I could snare a vehicle whenever I feel in the mood.

Now, to add to that….  I do have to say that if I were my son and I had an 80-year-old mother, I do not think I’d want her driving around.

That sounds awful, eh?  But frankly, it would worry me.

As you age, your reflexes do slow. You lapse into — let’s admit it — a kind of fuzzy stupor. And you really should not be doing something where your life and the lives of people around you depend on the speed with which you react to the craziness around you.

And on Arizona’s roads? Yes, we are talking about craziness. Drivers around here are quite mad. As in dinga-donga!

Life is dinga-donga, that much is true…but there’s a limit to how much you have to engage it…

April 22

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Ungodly racket from the damn air base, way on the FAR side of Sun City. At least a good 29 miles away: roar roar roar roar ROAR. Don’t understand how people living out there can tolerate it, even for a few hours in the morning.

My mother used to sit on her back patio there in Sun City, serenaded by those blasting plane engines. She would simper over her morning coffee, “Ohhhhh, it’s the sound of fweedom!” 

Right, Mom, I dared not say: It’s the sound of World War III coming your way. 

Oh, well. At least we got Ruby’s doggy-walk out of the way, and before it has started to get hot out there. She’s gone off to the back bedroom, there to loaf. And…I suppose blogging is a form of loafing, too.

The (very sweet!) lady who inherited SDXB’s house by welfare-agency fiat is enjoying a fine predicament: The plumbing under the kitchen sink busted open and flooded the house!

Lordie! WHAT a mess.

So she and a daughter were trying to mop up, and trying to get the City to send a repair crew. One of those fine nightmares that none of us needs, eh?

Before SDXB came along and bought the place for a song, it was owned by some very flakey, very feckless folks who let the place go to rack and ruin. He fixed it up handsomely…and then practically gave it away as he fled our quarrel with Tony the Romanian Landlord.

Actually, he had lobbied me earlier to move out to Sun City. I’d lived there before with my parents, and wasn’t bloody well about to go back. So when things intensified here and I still refused to move out, he just sold up and headed west, leaving me behind.

Whatever excuse you need, eh?

Shortly, the Tony quarrel settled down, and now he and I are actually rather friendly — walked around the park together just the other day.

Must decide what (if anything) to do today. The dawg and I are in full-out Lazy Mode: it’s too damn hot out there to do much hiking, and without a car, I can’t even get to the grocery store without hiking through the heat.

Actually, I can: ask the guy across the street who drives an Uber. But…what? Pay someone to drive me 8 or 10 blocks? Gimme a break!

😀

There’s a corner shopping center much closer, I must admit. But the neighborhood over there is a little shadier: you’re likely to get hustled, and as a woman alone I don’t feel very safe in those conditions.

So…yeah: maybe I should have followed SDXB out to (un)lovely Sun City. But….no. Nope I truly hated living out there with my parents.

Been there.

Done That.

Ain’t doin’ it again. 

Hubs of Hades Central….

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Well…no. It’s not exactly hotter than the Hubs of Hades out there this morning. More like the outer fringes of that garden spot.

Dog and Human flew around the park, shortly after dawn: best time of day to be there.

Ruby dearly loves the feel of grass under her little doggy feet. The human loves the openness of the place and the young parents rolling their beautiful little babies around in strollers. What fun!  {heh!} Especially when you don’t have to get up at dawn to feed the cute líl things!)

So that’s always a pleasant excursion.

Contractors are working like proverbial horses, rebuilding a corner house that went to wrack and ruin in the hands of the previous residents. Rebuilding the pool. Installing a block wall around the back. Endlessly wrestling around inside.

It is, without a doubt, going to be converted from a “nice” house to a “wow!” house. It has even occurred to me to covet the place…briefly.

Very briefly. When common sense creeps back in…of course I would not want to live in a house that backs onto a public park and stands on the corner of the neighborhood’s main feeder street and a busy cut-through. Darn!!

That main mini-drag pumps commercial traffic through, plus all the local residential traffic, workmen’s cars & trucks…on and on. During the rush hour, drivers in the know use it as a short-cut between two seven-lane commuter roads, dumping a ton of traffic in there and serenading the locals with noise.

So. No. Pretty as the house is and kewl as the neighborhood is: not even faintly interested in buying it.

Lately, as I may have noted here (don’t recall exactly where & ain’t lookin’ it up right this minute), I’ve contemplated following SDXB out to Sun City, a senior citizens’ ghetto on the west side of the Valley.

But no. Don’t think so.

First off, because I happen to like the sounds of kids playing and teenagers carrying on. We get plenty of those, right here in the ‘Hood.

And second off, because I do hate the roar of F16s charging in and out of Luke Air Force Base: a serenade that starts every morning at 6:00 sharp. Luke is just a few miles down the road from Sun City.

LOL! My mother used to revel in  that racket. She’d sit on her back porch as the planes thundered back and forth, swilling coffee. “It’s the sound of fweedom!” she’d coo.

How could I have inherited a 160-point IQ from a mother who had damn near zero common sense????

Anyway, where it comes to that blasting racket, here in the ‘Hood we’re pretty well out of range. That’s one of the reasons I stay here.

Whew!!!!

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BACK ONLINE!

We’re in one of those idiot moments. You know…when you can’t remember your name, to say nothing of your website’s password?  😀   Yeah: like that.

Fortunately, this isn’t my first Senior Moment. By way of heading off these events, I kept a record of the site’s password…and stored it on MY OTHER computer!  So…,mirabilis! Here we are back in Funny about Money.

How long this will last remains to be seen…

Hotter than the Hubs outside. Just came in from hiking through sweaty, nasty heat. For reasons unknown: wired to the teeth. 

Think it’s because my car has been kiped, thanks to the idiots at the Mayo Clinic.. That plus absolutely positively NOTHING that I need to get done works! 

The MayoQuacks put the eefus on my driver’s license, at my son’s behest. Note that I have not been in an accident in years — and that one wasn’t my fault. Nor have I had any tickets. Or any complaints about my driving. Or…whatnot. What I do have here is a royal screwing…the upshot of which: my son came down here, snatched my car out of the garage, and drove it off. I now have no car and no sane way to get around town.

And in a Los Angeles-style city like Phoenix, that IS a problem. Yeah: a BIG problem.

Apparently it’s a Hexed Day for everyone. 

Josie, the lovely lady who glommed SDXB’s house from the Welfare folks when he moved to Sun City, is having one of those, too.

Ohhhmigawd, Josie!  In a highlight of her day, apparently the kitchen plumbing jammed and…basically exploded, from what I can tell. Pipes leaking all over the place. Nothing working. And yeah: just TRY to get a plumber over here on short notice.

Last I saw, she’d managed to shut off the water into the house and was trying to mop up the tidal wave. What a horror show!

Yeah: every time things are bad for you, remember: they’re worse for someone else!