Coffee heat rising

A…n…d… Ninety Degrees and Overcast

Heh…I failed to post yesterday’s fine entry. So that just went online. This one will, too, in a few minutes…assuming I don’t faint and fall on the floor first.

{boyoboy, how d’ye like that alliteration! Shoulda been a poet!}

It’s 7 in the morning. Ninety degrees in the shade of the back porch overhang. Ruby and I just got back from the morning doggywalk, an hour-long stroll through the outer reaches of Hell.

It would like to rain out there, evidently. The clouds are low enough…but they’re wayyyy too thin. If we get rain today, it won’t be till late afternoon. When it’s even hotter than it is now. Wunderground sez that’s 96 degrees — at seven in the morning!! — and predicts a high of 114.

Forest fires along State Route 87, the road to Payson — whereinat KJG and Mr. Fireman repaired for their retirement. Their kids are down here, so it’s possible that they’ve come down from the mountain and are staying with them. I hope.

Meanwhile, the town of Sunflower has been evacuated — the residents moved to a center out in Fountain Hills.

This morning when I let Ruby out for her first frolic around the back yard, what should I find but a RAT, caught in the trap I’d left unbaited on the back porch.

Since, unlike my son, I can’t bring myself to drown the poor little thang, I hiked him down the alley and tossed him out near a fine pile of debris. Now, as my son is given to saying angrily, he’s someone else’s problem.

b-a-a-a-a-a-a-d human!

Gerardo just called to inform me that he and his crew are on the way over here to fix a leaking pipe.

?????????

Thought they’d already done that! They dug up the ground on the east side and repaired the leaking pipe under there.

But…well…it looks like there’s some other leak out there. So let’s see if they can figure out what it is and fix it.

Meanwhile, I’ve had no breakfast and the cleaning lady will be here this morning and the last thing I need is Gerardo banging around all morning.

Let’s put this post on “hold” for a couple hours… Maybe I can at least bolt down a piece of toast before the guys show up. Ugh!

*****

Ehhh…just barely.

You have not seen a human being work until you’ve watched a Mexican trabajador work. My GOD, that man is just astonishing.

He dug and wrestled and wrestled and dug and dug and wrestled…all this digging and wrestling was going on in soggy, sticky mud. He found a stretch of busted pipe, which by dint of sheer strength he replaced.

Looks like the system is working now, at least in back. But as he pointed out, it’s old. Satan and Proserpine put in the system when they were here and doing their Happy Handyman thing. Gerardo pointed out that I’ve been in this house a good 10 or 15 years, meaning the system is older than that.

He thinks the whole system is gonna have to be replaced. And THAT is gonna be an expensive proposition.

Speaking of expensive propositions, AMEX called late last week to harass me. They claimed last month’s bill hadn’t been paid. I said it certainly had. They said it certainly hadn’t.

And NATCHERLY the credit union’s system wouldn’t let me into my account!!!!

So, goddammit, now I’ve got to get dressed and traipse across the city to the CU — in 115-degree heat — to try to find out WTF happened there.

I pay the American Express bills electronically. And assuredly I DID pay that statement — or at least tried to.

When the system blocked me from my account while I had the AMEX representative on the phone, it made me look like a shifty fool. So needless to say, I’m a bit peeved by this bit of bullshit.

After this, I’ll pay those bills with paper checks.

 

You Thought the Hubs Were Hot?

A-n-n-d…once again: 109 degrees on the shaded back porch, where direct sunlight never intrudes. But this evening we’ve got some overcast blowing in.

That may bode well: rain will break the heat, if only for a few hours. Hmmm…but does it have meaning?

Checking with the beloved Wunderground: Tonight we’re supposed to drop to a chilly 93 degrees; cloudy with SSE winds shifting to N at 15 mpg. Brrr! Tomorrow we have 114 forecast.

Purchased some roach bait this afternoon, but haven’t roused enough ambition to put it out. Ruby the Corgi must not eat it…so…uhmm… Yeah! Gotta figure out how to lay the stuff out so our eight-legged boarders will enjoy snacking on it, while at the same time keeping it out of the pooch’s reach.

Good luck with that!

The rats are merrily ignoring the baited traps. No doubt they think those things are very funny…

Why I quit shopping at Costco…

{sigh} This is sad…because I love shopping at Costco. It’s like visiting a Renaissance fair: vast quantities of food, jeans that actually fit, doodads, gizmos, and endless bottles of cheap wine.
 
And I do understand that Costco, for whatever reasons suit its business plan, needs to limit its customers to “members.” So no, I don’t mind carrying a Costco card around and flashing it at the door and again at check-out.
 
But the new demand that we ALSO flash our driver’s license when paying up? Uhhh nope. Sorry, Costco. That’s a yard past the edge of the pale. You already have my ID in the form of a Costco card bearing my photo. Enough’s enough.
 
I carry my driver’s license hidden in my car. This is because I have exactly ZERO desire to tote a purse around with me, and most women’s clothing does not accommodate bulky wallets and such. When I go into Costco, all I take with me is an endless shopping list, a credit card, and my Costco card. I do not carry these in a wallet; I do not tote them in a purse.That’s why jeans have pockets, after all.
 
I simply loathe having to carry a purse.
 
So, I don’t: I minimize the amount of junk I have to carry, and once you’re down to a couple of cards and your keys, you can fit all you need into your pockets. Even when you’re wearing women’s clothing.
 
But add ANOTHER nuisance card, and then I’ll have to haul the stuff around in a bag or a wallet. And ya know what, dear Costco bosses? I ain’t a-gunna. First I’m not going to risk losing my driver’s license as I tote it around your store, and second, I really don’t enjoy putting myself at risk of theft by prancing across a parking lot with a purse dangling from my shoulder.
 
Just now I’m on the way out the door to buy a bunch of Costco-esque items…dishwasher detergent, Q-tips, doggy stuff, this and that. If I were going to Costco, I would as usual succumb to Impulse Buy Mania and no doubt buy a bunch of stuff I don’t need. Instead, I’m gonna buy all that at Walmart.
 
On one level, it’s annoying. I love to shop at Costco — it’s like a medieval fair, a riot of impulse buys. On another, more practical level, though, it’s a GOOD thing. Because…
 
* Shopping at the nearby Walmart saves gas. Costco shut down the centrally located store a few minutes from my house. To get to the nearest outlet, now I have to traipse across the city, risking my life, diddling away gasoline, and feeling annoyed by the time I get to the store.
 
* It saves money. I don’t much enjoy the Walmart: it’s in a shady neighborhood, so trudging across the parking lot feels unsafe. Nor do I enjoy the Albertson’s and the Safeway in my parts: the two stores practically clone each other; they tend to be overpriced, and they’re boooooring places to shop. As a result. I tend to get in there and out as fast as I can, and not dawdle over the impulse buys. That is: I buy only what I need when I go in there, and THAT’S IT.
 
* Costco offers a wide variety of middle-class goods, which has a drawback: It’s an impulse-buy carnival! Every time I go in there, I come out with something I didn’t plan to buy. By contrast, the Sprouts in my neighborhood is all very nice, but a little too environmentally, socially, and health-wise “correct.” The goody-two-shoes tendency limits one’s choices, even though it also leads the store to offer some things you can’t get anywhere else. Albertson’s & Safeway are booooring: nothing to see there, so you tend to stick to your shopping list. And that, over time, saves a whole lot of money.
 
So I guess I should say “Thanks, Costco, for unwisely driving a customer away: it’s saving me a lot of time and money.” But I’m still gonna miss it.

Hot Hot Hot

Hotter than the Hubs of Hades, as my father liked to crow. And holeee mackerel, it sure is hot. And humid. Here on the first day of July, August has come early, only without the briefly relieving afternoon rains. As we scribble, come 7:30 in the morning, Wunderground says it’s 88 degrees out there, with a predicted high of 112.

That would be fine, if the air were not wet as a sauna: 15% humidity, which strikes me as a low estimate. August weather has come early, but without the afternoon rain breaks.

Out the door with the Dawg at 5:30 a.m., hoping to dodge the worst of the Doggie Parade.

Wrong!

Everybody else had the same idea: the ‘Hood was overrun with dog-lovers and their pooches. So that meant dodge dodge dodge dodge dodge dodge….AAAAAGH!

Truly: I hate zig-zagging across the street trying to evade nitwits and their “fur-babies.” Some people are dangerously stupid about dogs.

No sign of Wile E. Coyote this morning, though. Probably because so many humans were tromping around, the poor beast had to take cover. Nor was there any sign of my pal Marge, the superannuated hiker. She’s been absent for awhile…I fear she may have reached the point where she’s no longer up for lengthy strolls through the morning heat. T’other day the neighborhood Facebook site went on about her 93rd birthday…she really is an amazing lady.

We walked for an hour through the swampy early-morning heat. By the time we got back, I was too walloped to eat breakfast. Which probably was a good thing, actually. 😀

Meanwhile, over in the tonier precincts of east Phoenix, a  berserk fire is consuming a neighborhood around 40th Street and McDowell. This is close to where my stepsister and her family used to live — on the outer edge of the tony Arcadia district. At first when I saw the news coverage, I thought it was very close to their house. But now I don’t think so.

In fact, it appears that none of the heirs to the parental estate live there any more. Stepsister — a Superior Court judge — and her husband passed away, as did their son. Their daughter finished an MBA, married, and got a fine job with the State of Arizona. Apparently she’s living happily ever after — handsomely relocated to Paradise Valley. Good for her!

That means, then, that even if the house is turning into a pile of cinders, it won’t affect her. Or her brother, if he’s still living.

My father’s new wife’s daughter & hubby had two children: this sharp young lady, and a male offspring who was less incandescent. They sent him to Northern Arizona University — about like sending him to Play-Skool — where he did graduate. But not to much: with a bachelor’s from NAU, he ended up in a career as a delivery truck driver.

But hey! At least he did have a job! They had plenty of money to put in trust for him, and their daughter apparently agreed to look out after him as he proceeded through life. Meanwhile, his sister got an excellent job with the state, married, had kids, and is living happily ever after.

As Ruby and I trudged through the muggy heat, we were serenaded by a cop copter fly-over, by ambulance sirens from Gangbanger’s Way, by traffic roaring across Gangbanger’s and along Conduit of Blight Blvd…ugh! What a place! The Richistans are pretty, and my part of the ‘Hood is blandly pleasant…except for the unholy racket from Conduit of Blight, Main Drag South, and Gangbanger’s.

My thoughts turned to the idea of moving away from this place.

But where?

To Fountain Hills?

All very nice, in a tract-y way. But…it’s right under the flight path of passenger jets flying in to Sky Harbor, one of the busiest airports in the world. The racket from the jet planes would be as bad or worse than Sun City’s noise from Luke Air Force Base. And that, my friends, is bad. When Mr. & Mrs. Fireman were living in Waddell, about the same distance from Luke as Sun City, the racket could be heard inside their home! Sun Citizens complain incessantly about the noise from Luke, and it doesn’t look like the population of Fountain Hills is a lot happier.

Sooo…what’s the difference? Traffic racket or airplane racket? 😀

Sun City is not my Thing: no interest in a ghetto for old folks. Scottsdale by and large is too far from where my son lives. Prescott would be a nice place to live, except it also is too far away. And it snows there. Ditto the Oro Valley, near Tucson.

One option might be a high-rise on North Central Avenue. A new one is going in right across the street from AJ’s, though I think it will be out of my price range. A little further south down Central, though, several of my friends live in an older high-rise amidst the office buildings. They have an awesome view and they’re as centrally located as you can get.

Problem with that, though, is spelled R-u-b-y-t-h-e-C-o-r-g-i….  How exactly one would cope with a dog in a high-rise apartment escapes me. Apparently some people have trained smaller dogs to go in a cat box. That might work with Ruby, if she could be persuaded. But she’s not so young anymore, so that trick might be difficult or impossible to learn. The prospect of schlepping her downstairs in an elevator several times a day does NOT appeal. It could be done…but it would mean you could never leave home for more than an hour or three…and what would you do if she had an “accident” in the elevator???

Heh…  Looks like what it boils down to is either I get rid of the dog (and move to a high-rise apartment) or I stay here and put up with the crime and the reformatory across the street.

Exit the covid bug…

…well…I hope!

The covid epizootic seems to be easing off. The fever is gone(!!). The cough is mostly gone.

It’s been a long haul, that’s for sure. Some of the symptoms started as early as last February! In my li’l Hypochondriac’s Journal — an Excel spreadsheet used to record what pills I’ve taken and when (since I can’t remember when I last took an aspirin!) — I started to note cognitive issues early in February. The peripheral neuropathy also shows up in February.

Migawd! That’s five months!

I found that in my dotage — or…possibly as an effect of a “long covid” infection? (this is really a good video, BTW) — I can barely remember my name, to say nothing of when I’ve gulped down what pill. So I created an Excel spreadsheet to show the date and time of each medication dose.

Well, of course that was nowhere near entertaining enough, eh? So while I was at it, I entered notes on what weirdness has been going on. Reports from the covid trenches, as it were:


Back pain continues to improve
Cough also continues to diminish, even without Robitussin
NB: diagnosed w/ covid on 16 May. So this has been going on about a month.
It appears possible that the back pain may also be a covid symptom. Some sites list muscle pain.
https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/how-long-is-a-person-contagious-with-coronavirus#recovery-times
“Long covid” = any symptoms that persist longer than a month. 10% to 35% of cases are “long”
Apparently it can take from 2 to 14 days to develop symptoms, so I could have been exposed as early as May 1.
Typically seems to be about 14 days; ie., ca May 1.
Luz was here on May 1. So chances are good that I got it from her. She could have been asymptomatic.

(The table has columns on the left for dates & time…)


One thing that’s clear, given the CDC video referenced above, is that I was VERY lucky — and smart — to have snabbed all three covid shots before the bug came my way. If you haven’t had those shots, get them now!

***

Moving on: Pool dude was here this morning, in all his cuteness. The pool is, as usual, sparkling clear. But…yesterday I discovered, to my amazement, that he apparently hasn’t been emptying the pump’s leaf filter! It was packed tight with dead leaves! So I cleaned that out. And now it seems to be running OK. Pretty well, as a matter of fact.

But it does tell you: You’ve gotta ride herd on the flunkies!!  Don’t assume that, just because they say their job is to do that or to do this, that they’re really doing the job.

Which reminds me: Gotta get off the dime and chase down Gerardo. And so, awaaaayyyy!

Still Kickin’…

After a fashion, anyhow…

Okay, WordPress is hijacking this post
….Abandoning…trying to save.

If it goes online prematurely, have no fear…I’l be back. Maybe.

****

Where were we?

This mini-episode is par for today’s course. Whatever I’ve touched today has gone ker-PLOOIE! And, truth to tell, that’s gettin’ a little old…

Today was a classic Day from Hell, Arizona style.

Yes. In Arizona, all you have to do to evoke a Day from Hell is to climb into your car and venture forth across the roads. WHAT a place! Crowded, unruly, batsh!t crazy. Just getting from here to there will leave you feeling a little crazed.

Wanted to go to a Walgreen’s or similar pharmacia to see if I could snare another electric steamer, the kind that boils HOT water and wafts the steam in your direction, rather than the kind that turns cold water into fog.

Good luck with that.

Along the way, I traipsed to the west side, there to visit the credit union. Argued with their rep. Could NOT make the guy grasp the concept that one of my checking accounts is co-owned with my son…for a REASON. (Dear Son uses it as a collection pail for money devoted to the mortgage on the downtown house, which we happen to co-own. This concept apparently is too arcane for the average Joe Schmoe. Oh well.)

Finally untangled the mess there (I hope), was able to get into the account (which doesn’t mean I could do so again, right this minute), and discovered I need to extract another few thou’ from Fidelity to pay this month’s AMEX bill.

NO idea how, but I seem to have hugely overcharged on the AMEX card. Not clear how or why, because I can’t get my hands on an AMEX statement. Tomorrow will have to get on the phone and ask them to send me another paper statement.

They, of course, don’t wanna do that. They want you to wrestle and bang around getting online and then spend God Only Knows how may hours trying to untangle the online data.

Guys….

Just.

Send.

Me.

A

Statement!

Right now, though, I’m in no mood to hassle with that.

Traffic in Phoenix is usually awful. Today it was horrific. Every which way you went… There seemed to be no way out of the knots of enraging traffic jams. So what should have taken two twenty-minute drives devolved into a good two hours of trudging through crazy-making traffic.

I hate this place.

Every time I get in my car, that thought wafts across my mind:

I hate this place.

If my son weren’t here, I would be SOOOO gone!

Where would I go, if my son weren’t lurking around demanding that I stay put? Ohhh…I can think of several places:

The Oro Valley, a suburb on the west side of Tucson. It’s getting a bit too suburbanized for my taste these days. But still: it’s quiet, relatively low on crime, and within easy driving distance of the urban amenities offered by Tucson.

Prescott, a large small town up on the Rim. It’s very pretty. Historic. Has a cultural life. Has a reasonably adequate regional hospital. Lots of hiking. Relatively cool weather. And its very own Costco. (What more could a person want?)

Santa Barbara (California), up the hill from the downtown area. This would require a fair amount of money…but wtf? You can’t take it with you.

Santa Fe, New Mexico. I suppose. Actually, you need rather more disposable cash than I have laying around to live comfortably and exotically in Santa Fe. But hey! Where have we heard it before? Ya can’t take it with you!

Some parts of Mexico. Ajijic, for example.

But the truth is, few venues can replace the one I have. Not for an old bat, anyway. This place is close to shopping. Close to decent doctors. Within striking distance of the Mayo Clinic. Diversely populated by people of all ages and several ethnicities. Provided with halfway decent K-8 schools. As centrally located as you can get without being in a mid-town high-rise. Lots of greenery. Served by one of the best high schools in the nation. Within walking distance (in certain seasons) of excellent grocery stores. And now we have our very own damned…uhm…coveted light-rail.

All of which is neither very much here nor every much there.

What is very much here: Bed-time!