Coffee heat rising

Aging in place

Hotter than the Hubs…

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Surely Hades was never this hot and soggy! 😀

Ruby is guzzling water (again!), panting, choking, gasping for breath. The human is hurting, hurting, and hurting some more: this peripheral neuropathy is no joke.

But at least we got our morning perambulation…  And ohhh my! Lest you ever feel sorry for yourself, all you have to do to perk up is to look around at other people.

This morning we passed a crew of laborers working on the renovation of a large house in Lower Richistan. Yeah: in the heat. In the humidity. Dear lord! What a job!  Hard physical work in absolutely ghastly weather.

At times like this, (un)Lovely Phoenix reminds me of Ras Tanura, the American outpost where we spent ten years next to the Persian Gulf while my father worked for Aramco. Just about the most gawdawful place to live on the planet! Hot, wet, miserable…and hostile to Americans.

My mother’s health was ruined out there — she came down with amoebic dysentery — and I was sick all the time.

Most of my “sick” was play-acting, a strategy to keep me out of the damned school and away from the horrid little brats who inhabited it. If you were “different” in any way (I was a girl who wanted not to grow up wearing ribbons and frills but to work as an astrophysicist), you were tormented, tormented, and tormented some more. So I was constantly trying to persuade my mother that I was too sick to go to school. About half the time, she fell for it.

And well she might have, since she was sick at least half the time; probably more.

Ohhh gawd! There goes the dawg again: choke choke choke CHOKE GAAAG!  Got to get her to a vet…but how to do that without a car beats me.

My son, despite having made off with my car (he thinks I’m too old to be driving!), cannot take time away from his job to schlep me to stores and the dog to veterinary hospitals. So exactly what I’m supposed to do here, isolated in (un)lovely North Phoenix, escapes me. Even though a doctor has said there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be driving, Dear Son is determined to keep me out from behind a steering wheel.

This, I assume, results from what he’s seen in his job as an insurance adjustor. You can bet he’s shuffled his way through some horrific car wrecks. And yes: it’s undoubtedly true that elder drivers with slower reflexes and weaker vision are more vulnerable to accidents than are the Young and the Alert.  Surely, though, there ought to be some way to test you to see whether you’re safe to be driving. My own doctor says there’s no reason I shouldn’t be driving…but the kid ain’t listening to him.

At any rate: the result is that I’m stuck here in the house and can’t even take my poor sick little dog to a vet.

Not.
A.
Happy.
Camper.
!!!!

And the Day Staggers On…

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Yeah: it’s still pretty “Rasty Nasty“out there under the cheery blast…uhm, glow of an Arizona afternoon sun.

The little dog seems significantly better this afternoon: the horking and coughing have about faded away. I think — hope — there’ll be no need to drag her through the unholy heat to have a vet look at her.

Exercise-traipsing around the ‘Hood just now, I was reminded of how much my mother loved Arizona…how grateful she was to my father for installing them in sizzling, sky-roaring, anachronistic Sun City. Oh, my…she did love it!

At this moment: Horribly hot for an exercise traipse. This is weather that makes me wish I were back in San Francisco. Even in Long Beach, that capital of the bourgeois.

Personally, I’m none too fond of Arizona. But I ain’t movin’ on…no way, no how. For one simple reason: my excellent son is here. And where he is: that’s where I’m gonna be.

If he were to decamp to, say, Colorado (where I believe he would rather be), I’d follow him. To Canada or Mexico? Not so much. But almost certainly anyplace in the U.S.

***

Heh!  I sure have lived in a lot of places on this planet! Let’s add them up…

  • Long Beach, California
  • San Francisco, California
  • Richmond, California
  • Alameda, California
  • Berkeley, California
  • Ras Tanura, Saudi Arabia
  • Beirut, Lebanon
  • London, England
  • Tucson, Arizona
  • Phoenix, Arizona
  • Sun City, Arizona

LOL! I’ve probably lost track of some of them! 😀

Now, yea verily: Arizona isn’t my favorite venue. Particularly not the gawdawful Phoenix area and its environs. The sole reason I’m here is that my son is here. And…as long as he stays here, I’ll stay here. If he were to move on? Chances are, I’d follow him. At the very least, I’d move out of the (un)lovely Valley of the Sun.

But more likely, wherever he goes, I’ll go.

Here We Go Again…

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Dammit! Cop helicopter buzzing the neighborhood to the west of us.

By golly, I’m tired of this stuff! Every time you turn around, here’s another Happening.

Part of it is because we live directly south of a low-income, high-crime district. SOMETHING is always going on up there.

Only way to get away from that is to sell my home and move to a higher-rent, lower-crime zone.

But ya know what? I LIKE my house. And I like my neighbors. And I like our location. And no, I do NOT want to move to some other district.

This is an old-line, moderately upscale central-city neighborhood. Prices here are moderate, too. Moving to a similar neighborhood in a “safer” part of the city would cost me a proverbial arm & a leg. And, as one cop remarked, it wouldn’t accomplish the goal. ALL neighborhoods in the Phoenix area are plagued with crime.

Crime is endemic here. You can’t get away from it.

So, no. There’s no point in spending 87 gerjillion dollars to move to Scottsdale or Moon Valley or…whatnot. It’s all of a kind.

Whew! Funny Is B-a-a-a-ck! And So Is Gerardo…

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Wow! For awhile there, WordPress wouldn’t let me back into the Funny about Money site…and…well… I wuz beginning to think Funny was about to be a thing of the past.

Ohhh well….  Here we are, back online…uhm…I think. We’ll find out after I go to post this squib.

Gerardo the Miracle Yard Dude and his cohorts are out in the yard, working like animals in Arizona’s UNGODLY summer heat. August is our worst month. But, for reasons I can’t imagine (most likely he has bills to pay, hm?), he volunteered to prune the (overgrown!) paloverde tree on the west side of the house.

Not a good time to hack up a tree, that’s for sure. But…you can be sure he wouldn’t have offered to do it if he didn’t need the money. Damn near killing your crew with heat exhaustion is not a normal strategy.

Let’s just hope this exploit doesn’t kill the tree. It is on the west side of the house, after all…so it serves its purpose in savings on air-conditioning bills.

On the other hand, even I could tell that it presented a serious risk of falling on the roof and doing some major damage. The amount Gerardo is charging for this venture (which he didn’t tell me beforehand…otherwise I wouldn’t have let him do the job) is fukkin’ ruinous…but a fraction of what it would cost to chop down the tree and then repair the roof and the attic if it fell on the house in a storm.

So I can’t complain too much.

On the other hand…that doesn’t make me like it.

And yes: trees.  MY GAWD, the man charged me FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS to prune that weed tree off the roof and away from the yard.

He said, though, that he’d talked to my son. And he claimed he told my young Hero (and Keeper…) how much he was gonna charge. So…one can only hope that was true. Because if M’hijito is blind-sided by a $450 landscaping bill, he is gonna be ENRAGED. Seven ways from Sunday.

Ohhhhh gawd! Never get old,, whatever ya do!  First off, you lose control of your life. Then, you’re assaulted by one hassle and one headache after another — none of which you personally can do a damn thing about. The person in charge of your bills has to do all that…and you may be sure, he won’t appreciate it.

***

Ohhhh well. I truly do like Gerardo and his guys. They’re all such nice men, each and every one of them. To say nothing of gentlemen who work like oxen (!!no exaggeration!) Seriously, you’ve never seen anyone work as hard and as steadily as those guys do. Just…freakin’…jaw-dropping!

They do hard work and good work. Whatever they apply themselves to, they do a great job on it. And they apply themselves to A LOT!

Amazing guys. No question of it. 

Eeep! That Was Close!

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Yep: I really thought Funny about Money was done for. That was IT. Never again would I be able to get into the site.

{chortle!} Yes, I indeed DO panic easily….

But this morning, things are working better and looking better.

What a fine few days these have been!

No kidding: over the past few days, not one damn thing has worked properly, whether has had to do with the computers, whether it was the bank account, whether it was the garage door opener, whether it was the pool equipment…WHATEVER, it busted or it stopped dead.

Good thing the kid made off with my car, eh? With that kind if miasma hanging over my neurotic little head, who knows what horrors would have transpired if I’d tried to drive through Phoenix’s rabid traffic.

😀

And now, speaking of “it don’t wanna work,” let’s see if this post will go online…

Hubs of Hades, Redux

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Three-thirty in the afternoon. High, magnificent white clouds off to the north…but nary a sign of rain here in the Valley. Wunderground says we have 114 degrees; humidity 11%; precip zero.

That, my friends, is another way of saying “hotter than the hubs of Hades.” 

The hapless woman my son hired to babysit me — he thinks I can’t take care of myself alone anymore — is bored out of her mind. The reason I’m unlikely to get hurt while I’m sitting around all day by myself is that…

* I go noplace;
* I do nothing;
* I sit around watching the dog as she does nothing.

Oh, well. If that’s how he wants to spend his money, far be it from me to contradict him.

Haven’t persuaded the poor lady to drive me to any stores or other amusements, mostly because I don’t need any new provisions and surely do not want to go out in that unholy heat.

What to do? How to deal with this new headache?

Well…

1. Make a list of things that need to be done (or at least can be done) while I’m under her control.

2. Be nice to the poor soul. She’s probably as terrorized as I am about this whole wacky thing.

3. Since my son has cut off my driving privileges, get her to drive me to stores (even those within walking distance) at least several times a week.

4. I walk a couple miles every day, for exercise. See if she would like to come along on these walks, after the weather gets cool enough that we could leave around the time she gets here.

Godlmighty, this fiasco is making me crazy. Pretty clearly, I’ve passed a milepost on the road to senility. And some major changes are going to have to be made to accommodate that. The big hope — the big stumbling block — the big screaming nightmare…is that I’m not yet so batshit that I have to be locked up in an institution.

I hate, loathe, and despise communal living. Hated every minute of living in the college dormitories. And that is NOT the way I want to wrap up my life.

This job will be made tougher for our New Lady by the fact that I refuse to pay for television. I will be DAMNED if I’m gonna pay to have advertising shoved in my face. Plus about 90% of what’s on TV is just not worth paying for.

So…that means she doesn’t have any pap to amuse her when she’s here. She must think I’m even crazier than I am. And she must be excruciatingly bored.

So…THAT means we’ll have to come up with things to do and places to go while she’s here. Better confer with her along those lines: mostly to find out what she likes to do and figure out when and where we can go for those things.

Also must ask my son if he thinks we should go ahead and pay for cable TV, so she will have some drivel to watch while she’s here. I’d just as soon not have brainless blah blah blah emanating from one of the rooms, but…if that’s what it takes to keep some poor soul in our employ, I guess I’ll have to get used to it.

{sigh}

Guess I’ll have to get used to the whole damn fiasco!