Coffee heat rising

Life in the Desert

Wow! Not to Say Good Grief!!!

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Strolled down to the commercial corner at Main Drag South, there to find out if I need another covid shot…or what.

Chatted with the pharmacist at the Albertson’s. He said not. Apparently I’m now about as covid-proof as I’m gonna get.

Which, I suspect, ain’t 100%.

It is hotter than the proverbial hubs out there. Left me highly resenting my son’s having kiped my car…left me wondering how (or if) I could snare another car. Then, as I hiked off steam, I realized that if I want to be schlepped around in a car, I can call Uber…and not have to gas up, store, service, wash, and pay taxes on a four-wheeled gas-guzzler.

EGAD! INSIGHT!!!!!

Today has gotta be one of the worst days of the whole year for walking around the city streets. It’s effin’ hot and it’s effin’ humid. As we scribble, the back-porch thermometer reads 100 degrees in the shade…and no part of today’s stroll was in any shade.

And y’know what?  Walking through the heat was just not that bad. 

For one thing, I’m probably getting used to hiking around the place. And for another, all that walking is building strength and stamina. And that’s not a bad thing…it’s a good thing!

Yes. Strangely enough, as I swam through the swampy air it occurred to me that walking to the commercial parts of the neighborhood is about the best thing I can do for myself — healthwise, that is.

I’ve already built up a lot of energy…weirdly, an hour or more of hiking through unholy heat did exactly nothing to wear me out. Got home…waved to the neighbors as they climbed in their car…pranced into the house…fixed iced tea and lunch…  And thought, Well! That was no BFD!

So…yeah. That IS what I’ve about concluded: Not having a car is no BFD. 

At least not in an urbanized residential district full of shops and taxicabs… 😉

GRONK! Another sylvan day in Arizona

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Grrrr!!!  I AIN’T GOIN’!!! No, nope, nooooo way! Not goin’ out in that unholy swampy heat to hike three blocks to a grocery store. The dawg and I can go hungry, by dayum!

Truth to tell, neither of us is about to go hungry. The larder has enough dog & human food to tide us over for several days. After which, we may hope, my present spate of crabbiness will have passed.

Seriously: What DO we need?

* Not dog food: three or four cans lurk in the storage room.
* Not human food. What remains on the shelves may not be the most delicious chow on the planet, but it’s perfectly OK and it’s unspoiled.
* Not wine. We’re on the wagon.
* Not cleaning goods. Everything is in stock.
* Not anything that I can think of, offhand.

And I figure that if you can’t think of it, you must not need it very badly. 😀

Hope that’s true, because I just made up my mind to skip this morning’s planned grocery junket.

Seriously: The weather is REVOLTING this morning. Hot, soggy, hazy, uggh-leee. Probably won’t be any better tomorrow…but if I can put off this hiking trip until tomorrow, maybe I’ll resent it a little less

***

Check this out: Duet: Partners in Health and Aging.  Apparently this is a volunteer group that will send folks out to do your grocery shopping or drive you around the city or whatever.

I’ve tried to reach them: no one answers the phone at their office. Apparently the “group” of volunteers isn’t large enough to man the phones. But…what the hey! Later today, I’ll try again.

If I can foist the annoying errands onto someone else, that will solve a HUGE  part of the problems poised by those idiots at the Mayo Clinic having put the kaibosh on my driver’s license.

There may be some other volunteer organization of this ilk. If today’s effort to get through to Duet fails, I’ll see if anyone else out there is in the free-help biz.

*****  Later ****

Yes…I did get through to someone at Duet.

To avail oneself of their benefits, you have to sign up with them and give them a bunch of private information. And they demand your phone number.

I explained that, because of the outrageous number of nuisance calls I get — day in and day out — I’ve had to block incoming from all but a few area codes.

He just didn’t seem to “get it.” Truly: I don’t think he understood what I was saying:  eight or ten nuisance calls a day naturally leads to one rejecting most incoming calls.

So…I don’t expect to get far with that bunch.

Ohhhh well. The world hasn’t ended yet. Probably won’t, in the near future.

Soggy Doggy Day

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Wait what? You say the sky is supposed to be blue??? Where DID you get that idea? 😀

Another gray, soggy day. Grayer, even, than the last two days, which have been passing grim.

When you are a corgi, though, you don’t put up with any bellyaching from the Human. So, at Ruby’s behest, it was out the door and off to circumambulate the park, as usual.

And to the Human’s surprise, that worked out pretty well! We did not get rained on. Most of the usual dog-walkers, having more sense than the Human, were hiding out. The cloud cover kept the temperature in the comfortable range. Gee…kinda reminded one of San Francisco.

We probably should go up to the nearby grocer’s and pick up a little more food. But that would require hauling out of our chair and walking around, which is more than the Human feels like fooling with just now. In fact, there’s more than enough chow for both the Human and the Hound to cover the next two or three days.

So…we’ll take our chances.

The hip does hurt, though. A lot: especially if I sit or lay around awhile. What makes it better — other than aspirin — is getting up and walking. But that, of course, is ominously like (gag!) work.

Passed the night in nightmares about living in an old-folkerie. My father, as I may have mentioned in an earlier post, signed himself into one of those. But…he didn’t mind institutional living, having gone to sea all his adult life.

He ran away from home at 17, lied about his age, and weaseled his way into the Coast Guard. From there, it was into the Navy, and after that, a life-long career in the Merchant Marine.

Me, I hate bad food. I hate the sound of the neighbors’ TV, radio, and shower running. I just don’t like living with people. Gimme a dawg as a room-mate, any day.

Ruby is now conkered out on the floor. Looks like tromping around in the sticky, humid heat is a bit hard on her. Hope that’s the issue, and not some ailment.

😮

Speaking of tromping around in the heat, though…  One thing that I’ve discovered, quite handily, through the late series of misadventures is the amazing fact that you don’t really need a car to get around this neighborhood just fine! 

Consider: Within easy walking distance of my house, we have THREE major supermarkets…and that’s if you don’t consider Sprouts a supermarket.

Me, I regard Sprouts as a kind of specialty store. And it’s just three or four blocks down the street.

We also have…

  • a dentist
  • a hair stylist
  • a computer store
  • a Walgreen’s
  • a discount clothing store
  • two major supermarkets
  • a car rental and tire shop
  • a car mechanic’s shop
  • a 24-hour doctor’s office
  • A veterinarian

And on and on…

So, I guess if you’ve just gotta get yourself crippled up, this is the place to do it!

Joys of Olde Age

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Grrrrrrr!!!!!!  Have you noticed that as you get older, you find it harder and harder to get routine things done?

The stupidest things become major freakin’ hassles!

6:15 this morning: 

Charging around the backyard, trying to get the potted plants watered before the dog and I go out for this a.m.’s doggy-walk. Checking on the pool. Generally f*rting around…when OUCH!!!

A fine stab of pain in the sole of the left foot.

WTF???  Did I step on something?

Inspect the ground: yeah. Sure did: stepped on a bee that somehow had been becalmed on the pool’s Cool-Deck.

Awwww, geez. What is THAT gonna do to me?

Far as I know, I’m not allergic to bees. But it being 6:15 in the morning, don’t you just KNOW that if I’m ever gonna develop an allergy to bee stings, this will be the time!

Tromp in the house, retrieving the dog on the way. Slather pain-killer on foot.

Burning calms down a bit.

Can I get away with walking the dog? She needs her doggy-walk, and I need the exercise, too.

Put down food for the dog.

Hungry. Headachey. Slice a piece of bread for an on-the-run snack. Stale. Wouldncha know. 

Time to decide: Can I safely get away with walking around the neighborhood on the be-stung foot?

Probably. But what if I can’t?  Then what am I gonna do at 6:30 in the morning over on the far side of the ‘Hood?

Neighbors have reported coyote encounters in recent days.

Don’t you just know that if we limp out there, this morning will be the time we come nose-to-nose with one of those critters?

Ruby looks depressed. She wants to go out.

With coyotes running up & down the alleys, I can’t let her out to putter around the backyard alone.

Bees. Dogwalks. Coyotes. Park full of bums. Hunger. And the day has hardly even begun!

Cool Dude!

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My son: definite COOL DUDE. 

The man took time off his job(!!) to schlep me up to the Mayo Clinic, there to get a blood test. That’s a bit of a drive, and as you know, sitting around a doctor’s waiting room is always an efficient use of your time. /eyeroll/

Drove me out to the fringe of Ritzy-Titzyville, drove me home, helped with a bunch of ditz… Dang! How nice, eh?

Once left alone back here, I realized a grocery trip was in order. But…it’s hotter than the hubs out there this afternoon. So…guess I’ll wait till sunset and then make a run on the Sprouts or the Fry’s supermarket to pick up bread and dog food and whatnot.

A nuisance, but better than going out there in this heat!

Y’know…this is one of the most conveniently located neighborhoods in the city: not one, not two, but three major grocery markets within easy walking distance. Plus a veterinarian. A hair stylist. A computer store. A Bookman’s. And on and on and on. Truth to tell, between those stores and Amazon, I really hardly even need to leave my house to get my shopping done. Just call ’em on the phone and they’ll deliver!

Seriously! These days, I go into stores to shop more out of boredom than for any need to select loot.

This evening, I’ll hit the supermarket to pick up a few more cans of dog food for Ruby, a jar of maple syrup, a box of tea bags, and whatnot. None of this stuff is urgent…and so the truth is, I may not bother.

Recently the prospect of following SDXB and New Girlfriend out to Sun City has crossed my fevered little mind. But…y’know…  I don’t wanna. 

First, because it’s a bitch of a drive into this part of town from unlovely Sun City. And my son lives here, not anywhere down in that direction. I just don’t see enough of an advantage to living in Old Folks’ Central to actually move out there.

Second. because Sun City is right under the Luke Air Force Base flight path. And so…NOISE???  Lemme tellya NOISE!!!!!

The pilots start their daily practice at dawn, and the jets roar back and forth and up and down for a good four hours. You can’t sit on your back porch without being blasted off your chair.

Hilariously, my mother used to pretend she actually liked that racket. “It’s the sound of freedom!” she used to simper.

Uhm. No, Mom: it’s the sound of World War III, comin’ your way. 

She used to drive me crazy with that “sound of freedom” BS. But I guess she believed it. And hey: whatever makes ya happy, eh?

You can hear those jets blasting all the way up here in North Central: that’s a good 20 miles. Or more. The racket as heard from my parents’ back porch, 20 miles closer to the base, was freakin’ deafening. 

Ohhh well.

So here I am, all alone in fancy-Dan North Central, without any other old buzzards around to keep me company. If I’d get off my duff and go to the church, I surely would make friends and find folks to fill some time. But…well…religion isn’t really my Thing.

And truth to tell, I don’t know of anything else that goes on in the central  part of Phoenix that appeals to me.

Guess I could go back to teaching adjunct in the junior colleges.

But…uhm… Y’know…  That’s work! And I do have a moral objection to that stuff. 😉

Hiking in the nearby desert preserves fills some time. But…man! I’ve had a couple of real creepy experiences up there, and so these days feel little enthusiasm for tromping around the foothills by myself. My friends have all moved to Sun City and waypoints, or else passed away. And so just now I don’t know anyone who would like to keep me company (and act as de facto bodyguard) on those early-morning, pre-hot hours strolls.

Alas, Cool Dude fills his daytime hours with that job of his. So…that doesn’t leave a lot of choice in ways to occupy one’s retirement hours.

****

WOW, is it hot out there. The thermometer doesn’t seem to think so: it’s only registering 105 degrees. But man! Walk out that back door, and it feels like you’re walking into an oven!

Guess it must be a little humid. That’s what makes Arizona heat feel like actual heat. 

Anyway….that will moot tonight’s doggy-walk, for sure. And take care of any silly ideas I might have had about walking up to the grocery store. FORGET that!! 😀

and soooo….

Out the door at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. That’s when the nearest grocers open. In an hour, I can collect enough loot to reload the pantry and get back here just in time to evade the first blast of heat.

 

Hotter Than the Hubs…Again…

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Or “still”…  Or something. 

Sunday…

The AC has been pounding away. Don’t even THINK of asking what the power bill is likely to be this month. Probably two or three hundred bucks. But…don’t think about it. No. No thinking!!

Today is Sunday. If I had any sense, I’d surface down at the church and rebuild old friendships. Because…well…I do need some human company. No question of it.

But…my son has kiped my car. 

I have no way to get down to the church except on a bus, a highly questionable ride.  Plus just now, as we scribble, the temp in the shade of the back porch is A HUNDRED AND FIVE DEGREES.

No way in Hell am I traipsing 16 blocks eastward to the bus stop and standing around in that heat until a south-bound ride comes along. If a ride comes along.

Now…yes, it IS true that if I would get what passes for my act together, I could lasso a fellow church-goer into picking me up and schlepping me down to All Saints. But…that would be…you know…work. 

It also would be a great deal nervier than I happen to feel just now.

Gasp! I keep thinking it’s hotter than the hubs in the house. But that really isn’t quite the case. What’s happening is…it’s just a little humid in here. And in Arizona, you don’t have to get very  humid to make the heat feel like a blast furnace. That would be because it IS a blast furnace….

Perusing real estate ads in Sun City. Y’know, the house that I’m in was built by the same developer who built out most of Sun City. And you can see the similarity!  My house looks surprisingly like a Sun City shack.

Mine is rather better built, though. The price range in North Central is far higher than westside locations will support, and so Del Webb — the Sun City guy — produced neighborhoods here that echo the look of Sun City, but…well… The houses here are sturdier, better insulated, more diversely designed. Even though the exteriors look surprisingly similar.

***

And now it’s Monday…

***

Started this a while ago. Lost track. Wandered off. Fell Asleep. Who knows what else…

Splendidly HORRIBLE morning out there. Hot (95 degrees in the shade of the back patio), high overcast, damp, and sticky.

Friend is slated to come over this noon, thereupon to go out to lunch. Hope she does indeed surface: Nothing like a convenable human to make life more or less livable!

Maybe I should offer to fix lunch here, so we don’t have to go out in that swamp. Don’t have much, though. And without a car, you can be sure I don’t feel like walking to a grocery store.

Hmmmm….

Not to say {chortle!}  Just stuck a wonderfully stupid sign on the front security door, telling the accursed door-to-door solicitors to take a flying F at the moon.

Well. Ahem.. Possibly not that explicitly. It asks that they not ring the doorbell, because someone inside is ill.

I’m ill, all right: SICK of nuisance phone and door-to-door solicitors pestering me several times a day.

LOL! My friend already knows I’m crazy. This visit will confirm her suspicions.

****

Grrrrrr!!! Speaking of nuisances, I’ve got a whole, large bag of beautiful frozen shrimp in the fridge…and can’t tell whether they’re the recalled, contaminated variety or not.

It doesn’t LOOK like they are, though. The brand name on the package doesn’t appear to be associated with the bad shrimp.

Hope not. Because I really, REALLY don’t want to go traipsing out in the heat to buy more dinner food. Nor do I want to throw out God only knows how many dollars worth of chow.

***

LOL!!!!!

Welp…there was a reason I didn’t want to traipse out in the heat to pick up chow for dinner.

It is too goddamn hot to make it all the way to the grocery store!!!

Or even halfway to the damn grocery store!

Wunderground claims it’s only 106 out there. And in fact, that’s exactly what the back-porch thermometer says, right now: 106 degrees.

I find that a little hard to believe: if asked, I’d have said it was 110 or a bit higher. But…heh! I are a English major: I are not a thermometer!

So. Half an hour ago, I set out for the supermarket on Gangbanger’s way, there to buy some light chow and a bottle of white wine. And as you can no doubt intuit: didn’t make it! 

Gave up before I got a block from the shack. Turned around. Came back.

Thank all the gods for iced water!

😀

Thinking of asking Wonder Cleaning-Lady to drive me up to the store. She’s here banging around the house just now. But…but…that seems like a little much to ask. As if she weren’t knocking herself out quite enough!

The local grocery stores open at 7:00 a.m. So..duhhhhh! The answer to this conundrum is to show up at the Sprouts or the Albertson’s door at 7:00 a.m.

How hard IS that?????

Some of these establishments are now delivering. If I really wanted to bestir myself, I could call one of them and get stuff sent over.

But that has a fundamental drawback: Americans.

Seriously! 😀  Americans by and large don’t cook with fresh food — they heat junk that comes in cans and boxes. S-O-O…they don’t know how to pick out fresh fruit and vegetables. Ask them to bring you a fresh head of romaine, and they  just grab whatever’s on top of the pile in the grocery-store bin. And that…well…tends not to be good.

******

Whooooaaaaa! Look up the local Albertson’s on Conduit of Blight, and you see they open at SIX a.m., not at seven!

Hot dayum!

(And we DO mean “hot”!)

This opens a whole new door. 

At 6:00 o’clock, it’s already hot here, but it’s not fukkin homicidal. If I show up with a list and my roller-cart, I should be able to get outta there by 6:30 — surely no later than 6:45 or 7:00 a.m. The walk home is only 20 or 30 minutes.

That means I can get back here before the heat turns truly homicidal! 

Think o’ that!!!

Not a very pleasant way to start the day. But it sure beats hiking through 100-degree heat! If I can get in the door by 6:15 a.m., I can get back to the Funny Farm by 7:00…maybe earlier than that.

At 7 o’clock, the heat will be in the 90s. But that sure ain’t 110.