Momma said there would be days like this..

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Am I too old for this...?

As I push my way into the sixth decade of my life on this planet, so many things give me pause, and I ask myself if I am too old for this?
I know I am too old for a bikini..my body fell out of shape some years ago, and I know that not only would I look like a fool in an itsy bitsy teeney weeney yellow polka dot bikini...or any other bikini, I wouldn't expose any part of the general public to me wearing one.
Heck I wouldn't expose the dressing room mirror to that image.

I wondered when I started a facebook page if I was too old for the new social media, that makes friends of friends of friends that we really don't know. I started one to view photos of a niece's new puppy, and it has grown to be a daily touch base with old friends, family and yes new pets. But I also have pages, those little snippets of information that appear when you "like" a cause, or a page, or a link. Some are great, and I read them faithfully others meet the hide command. They still remain, but like dust under a bed, are hidden from my daily viewing. I've discovered new authors, bloggers, and tips from a variety of postings. I've rediscovered old authors I read once upon a time. So I guess I'm not too old for this.

Digital photography, a mystery to some has become a hobby of mine. The photos may not always be perfect, but after cropping and tweaking ,and in some cases deleting, I have to say for fumbling through the digital world, I find I love it. It certainly beats the old rolls of film found in the corner of a desk drawer, never developed, and when finally being turned into that long awaited snippet of time, discovering that out of twenty four shots, I may have gotten maybe two that were keepers. I will never be too old for that.

Politics, that topic that should never be discussed with a spouse, a friend, or family and was ignored by me, most of my voting life has suddenly roared into my world like a hurricane blowing against the door, demanding to be let in. I don't like it, not one bit. I don't like adults acting like spoiled children who have forgotten their mother's admonishment, to "knock it off and get along, or you will be sorry."
Come on boys and girls, let us get our shit together, and do what you were elected to do, which was work for the constituents that put you in office so you can add to your list of perks, and overall retirement.
The verdict is out on whether I am too old for this.

Working. Well the general feeling here, being part owner of small business, is that we will never quit working. Can't afford to and don't know how we could. I am however way too old to work the second job which is as a vendor at fairs and events peddling roasted corn on the cob to all those folks who roam by enjoying their day. I like talking with the customers, and other vendors, but this is a young person's gig, and I want to be one of the people walking by taking in the sights.

Although there are many other topics to touch on as to whether one is too old for certain things, the final one I'll address tonight, as I squint my tired eyes after being up for over 21 hours now, on three hours sleep and a twenty minute catnap, is whether I am too old to be blogging. I used to love writing letters, and kept a journal from time to time, but blogging seems to require that I sit down at the computer and actually come up with a topic at least once a week. I love to talk, some may consider me to be long winded on many subjects, but to put these thoughts into a written format regularly, writing something that I would not be embarassed to have someone else read, well personally I don't think I'll will ever be too old for that.
And that's that.

It's hot, hot. hot !!

Here where I live, the heat wave that has plaqued a large portion of the country came to visit.
Temperatures rose into the high 90', hitting 100 and over in some places.
Humidity added to the discomfort, and I was glad to have air conditioning.
Folks were cranky, with reason, and the oddest thing was come nightfall the roads were empty.
This is Friday night in the Poconos, a region known for it's influx of visitors from NY, NJ, and other states in our country who want to see our trees, enjoy our natural resources, heck maybe see on of our thousands of deer. They come to our water parks, rent kayaks and paddle down the Delaware, and shop our outlet stores, as though the prices were better than their home towns.
I had the occasion to pick up a late night meal for my working teen, and I was stunned, no traffic. The lots around the restaurants were only a third filled, and the highways were, well pretty darn empty for a summer weekend night.
I'm thinking that it is so hot that some are taking the advisories seriously, and staying put in a cool environment if possible. Hello folks it's summer. Now here we have had just two days of steamy summer heat, and folks seem to be hunkered in.
At first the heat really took my stuff right out of me. Today, it's hotter but not as bad. Could I be getting used to these temperatures that causes ones skin to sweat, becoming huge mosquito magnets. I don't know that I can get used to this heat, or I would live in Florida, or Alabama, or Louisiana. Perhaps it's more "accepting" the heat.
It is after all the middle of summer. I know ( even with global warming) that soon it will cool off to more seasonable temperatures, and before we can blink an eye there will be folks complaining of the cold nip in the air.
So it's hot, hot, hot, and will be for a day or so more, but for the most part we will survive hopefully without being rude to a family member or a complete stranger.
We have done this before in our lives. It was hot in our childhoods. Just like now.

What a run

If you're reading this you may think that this is about well, running. You would be wrong. Although I am always impressed by the fit and not so fit women and men along every road and path that are out there, pounding along the pavement in all kinds of conditions, the last time I actually ran was ... well I can't remember but I am relatively sure that something was chasing me.

No what this is about is a run of luck, not bad necessarily and not good, but quirky, weird luck. I just want a break from the craziness, just for a week or so. We've had lightning disable a well, a computer brain in an suv, and play havoc with our phone lines.
I have had two dogs, sisters no less, being out of sorts with each other a lot. We have had tick bites, disagreements with orthodontists, and still have some forms to fill out for the upcoming freshman year my youngest is about to undertake for her next four years of college.
We have physicals to take and records to get and the days are flying by.
Bad roommates run out on rent, and trash as they leave, and the temperature just doesn't want to give us a break.

I just need all this to stop. Not forever, because to believe that would be foolish,but for just a few days. To catch my breath, to refocus, to read that book that sits on the table taunting me to open it. I need renewed, well as renewable as a soon to be 60 year old woman can be. I want to sleep in and not do all the laundry that has accumulated while the well was malfunctioning.
I want to drink coffee, put my feet up and read.
Well I like fairy tales but don't believe in them and this is what I have asked for..so perhaps I should make another request. In September.

Belated musings

I would feel bad about ignoring my writing, if I really hadn't ignored it.
I spent an hour before my regularly late shower, to catch up a bit and wrote a pretty good piece if I do say myself.
Then a terrible event occurred and I found myself with an empty block, and nothing had saved. I looked at the corner and saw the notorious yellow exclamation point. The dreaded ERROR ..
How could this happen?
After trying to comment on another blog and failing to connect, I stopped for the evening determined to resolve whatever issue was happening and promising myself that I would from now on save my work.
I did back up all my blogs I had previously written. I even went so far as to attempt to set up another account on Wordpress..this because I had read that my problem with blogger was shared by many others.
That remains only partially done as I got busy. Really haven't had time to continue my migration. Tonight with some time to spare, I though I would give it one more chance, and so far so good, no error, and all is looking good.
So between working and rain, and no plans for the 4th, I dealt with limited water due to a well pump that has been malfunctioning for over ten days now, and loads of laundry building and finishing a book. Instead of barbecue, I now own a pair of new sneaker type shoes.
All is good.

But I was only gone two days

Why is it that whenever I go anywhere longer than a day it seems that things go awry here at home? I am certainly not a super housewife, or a super mom, actually not a super anything. Anyone can do daily what I do. It's not difficult, doesn't require great mental or organizational skill, it's just the daily stuff I do day after day.

This time I was gone two and a half days, available almost always by phone.
Yet chaos seemed to reign again.
I've left someone in charge of two semi behaved dogs and a self sufficient cat. Gave pretty basic instructions, after all what I do isn't brain surgery. In fact I have been questioned occasionally over the years, what do you do all day?

My response has always been a wise ass retort regarding bon bons, soap operas and long phone conversations with my many friends as I go about spending huge amounts of money at department stores on things I do not need
I usually receive a slammed door or a nasty reponse, which 99 percent of the time I ignore.

This time the water pump quit after a storm which apparently contained a lightning strike that disabled the pump, and threw dirt upon my youngest daughters new wheels. Well new to her.
These wheels after being driven by her father for a day refused to start and was towed back to the lot to be looked at the seller, mechanic.
Of course instructions regarding our little dogs was ignored, and they responded by creating as much havoc as possible. This netted them the opportunity to be left outside through a thunderstorm. They do have shelter but a thunderstorm?, their most hated of weather events, and dangerous should another lightning strike hit close by.

Now obviously to you and to me these events would have most likely happened if I had been home. But it wouldn't have been the overwheming catastrophe that was related to me. It would have fallen under the category of shit happens.

When this same person was left in charge of his children years ago. nothing else got done. No work, no chores. Even though the girls were both in school, it was for some reason an overwhelming task to do a little laundry, a dirty dish or make dinner. I was told there wasn't time to work and I came to find out that dinner consisted of diners or pizza. (he can cook by the way).

So the next time I have to leave I will hire a pet sitting agency. (the girls are grown) and turn off my phone.
It will be better for all.

Monday, Monday

So here we are at the beginning of another week, this one filled with leftover chores from the weekend, and the end taken up by a two day orientation at my youngest daughter's soon to be home for the next four or five? years, her college.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for the orientation of something new such as a college, but for the students. The parents are supposed to attend two days of pertinent information as well. Two days!! This concerns me that professionals can't compact all this information in less than two days.
I could have stayed in a dorm, so I can get the idea of what our children will be experiencing in the fall or I can book a room, both cost money.
I'm not sure exactly what I will learn from this experience, but I dutifully booked a room, and paid for an orientation packet. I am still working on the paid part.
I will be staying in a motel, as I don't really need to experience the comfort of a single dorm bed, in a room shared by a stranger at my age.
I think my imagination is good enough to know how my daughter will be living, on campus at least for a year.
I will attend at least part of the activities scheduled for the parents, but unless they are something new and keep my attention, I plan on ducking out and checking out the small town this big university is located in.
By the way did I mention that this is my second go round at college visits.
The school won't really tell you the important things, like who a good car mechanic is, or if there is a 24 hour clinic for when the college infirmary is closed. Are there available stores, drugstores, for the necessities of the teenage girls?
Do they deliver pizza to the dorms for late night snacking, and how much money should our new students really have on hand for the incidentals that make up college life?
What they won't tell us is how to convince our daughters that they really do not need to bring everything in their closets. First they won't all fit in the dorm rooms, and secondly after a week or two goes by, the student will realize that sweat shirts and pants are a good match almost six days of the week.
Do they suggest thirty pair of underwear? We know how often laundry will be done...I have already had the duffle of dirty duds arrive for visits with my former college student.
Do they tell us to be taste testing for the best microwave popcorn, frozen snack, dry snack?
How much bottle water should I bring or will the walmart found in or near every college town have the essentials she will need?
They don't tell us that our student to be will require a new college sweatshirt from the bookstore, and a bumper sticker or windown decal...on this orientation weekend.
So I'm gathering my stuff for our excursion, leaving a list of pet duties for my students father who will be in charge of the two dogs and one cat we are leaving in his care, and we will be doing the "road" trip thing come Wednesday.
Ah yes, orientation..maybe I'll get that book finished I started a month ago after all.
Well it is only this year, but maybe someone could suggest these two words for next years orientation..."virtual tour".

What happened to letters

Before there was email, texting, twittering, and facebook, people had several options for communicating with friends and families. We used the phone or we wrote letters, sometimes we even sent a card to say hi!
I wrote letters.
I used to love to write letters. Some would be on notebook paper, some on stationery, some on home made paper from a favorite craft store. I had holiday paper, and paper in differents hues.

Letter writing for me was letting the recipient know I was thinking of them and nothing was more satisfying than folding those sheets of papers and sliding them into an envelope, soon to be addressed and stamped and taken to the post office.

My most faithful responder was my dear mother. When I moved away from my home town I could always count on at least one letter a week, usually more.
Some were full of family news and gatherings, some were just to say hi.
Bottom line it was the effort she took to write me a letter. I still remember the excitement of seeing that mail with my name handwritten on the face of the envelope and remember that they were almost always the small size and the notebook paper that would come from the drugstore purchased lined writing pad.
When my girls were young she would write them letters with little drawings to help them understand the text.

Some of my dear friends were also the recipients of my form of communication. I'd fill the pages with the goings on of my young family, trying always to keep the thoughts upbeat, and leave out the burdens young families have. Really, who wants to read bad or sad news all the time.

This isn't to say there weren't phone calls made on occassion, there were.
I found letter writing more to my liking as I felt freer to express my self and remembered more often the little things that made up my life.
I came to find out that some treasured my words and would reserve a special time when their children were sleeping or at school to make the cup of proverbial tea, sit back in their chair and read my letter. I must say I wss touched especially when the comment was often, how my writing was like I was talking to them.
I'm not sure when I stopped writing letters regularly. My Mom's death, put a halt to all letter writing for a while. Her loss was keenly felt and somehow even writing to friends wasn't the same. There would be no more letters from her in my mail, and the thought of that took my breath and ambition away.

After a while I would drop the occasional line to a friend. But things were changing. First came email. Not the same but kind of like a letter. Something wasn't quite the same. The length for one was shorter now. No more the equivalent of a least two doubled sided sheets, though didn't have as much news in my life as before. We emailed about our children aand our lives..but I noted that no bad news crept in those keyboarded thoughts.
Then even the emails became fewer as we all moved around the country. Our children had activities and sports, time was precious.
We still sent the Christmas cards with a little note inside. Our lives were changing and with the change came less communication.

Then it was I got busy, they got busy, and I received the occssional Christmas newsletter or a card with a few small photos of their children.

So here we are, I have reconnected to old friends and familiy members due to facebook. Not quite in the same way but we are catching up a bit at a time.
There is one friend I have who doesn't have a computer in her home, and doesn't seem to want them.
We spoke on the phone seveal months ago reminding me that our commuication had been sparse.
In fact I think I"ll end this here and pull out my word processing program and drop her a line. Sorry honey, the hands will cramp now but I'll use a flowing font, which you will be able to read. Yep I think I'll just do just that .

not a repeat week, please

Just a short thought today, as I am preparing to work at our food concession at a local festival. Not my choice, but by necessity.
I just had a particularly bad week, as far as bad goes for me. I'm generally pretty thick skinned and either let incidents slide off my back like water slides off a duck, or let nasty words go in one ear, and out the other. The second one takes a little skill. You have to hear it, process it, decide if it's important enough to rate on your personal one to ten scale, and then let it go out the other ear. Of course this generally occurs in less than thirty seconds.

However I also have a personal rule for myself that a person is only allowed to break the ten scale three times in our relationship. It takes a lot to hit my number ten.

Someone hit the ten this week for the third time.
Something has to change.

Moving up Day

Today I attended a tradition that is played out annually at my youngest daughter's high school. I have attended just four of these events, and probably will not attend another unless they ask me to speak or I win a lottery and start a scholarship fund.
This event is called "Moving Up Day", and it is held approximately one week before HS graduation, usually at the football field, and for some reason it always seems to be unseasonably warm and sunny, at least the four times I have attended.
It basically entails watching the Junior class and the Senior class enter the stadium and sit on hot aluminum chairs in summery frocks, and unfortunately for the boys, long sleeve shirts and ties.
Then we hear the speeches, and once again I wonder how someone can become a very well paid principal and still seem to have some public speaking issues. We hear the president of the current class, and the Saluatarian give a speech, some good, some just so so, causing one to ponder the education our students have just received over the past twelve years. But I digress. They are just young adults, speaking perhaps for the first time to such a large audience, and with so, so equipment, which is providing us all with just a little echo, I'm guessing in case we missed something the first round we can try to catch it slighty time delayed.
What all the parents, friends, and various fans of those students sitting on those hot metal chairs are waiting for of course are the scholarships and awards which are announced at this afternoon celebration.
There are many scholarships and awards, in varying amounts. Some I have heard of and some have been sought out by the students themselves, applied for and won. Pretty good for a bunch of eighteen year olds.

The second one I attended, I was very surprised and pleased to hear my oldest daughters name called several times. Grades, merit, need and the fact that she actually applied for the scholarships make a lot of difference. I was also surprised at the students I thought should have received some sort of stipend, only to be left sitting on those hot chairs.
Ah there was that tricky part, the students actually have to apply for these awards, and not all the students are in the loop enough to realize this fact. There are no announcements or flyers, they are just supposed to know. After all the guidance office is swamped, and individual attention is rare unless there is trouble...I know this because I have called the guidance office on occasion.

So today I sat for around two hours, turning pinker, due to the lack of sunscreen, and watched and applauded all the recipients, and the speakers, knowing that my youngest daughter would not be called up to receive any awards today. She after all knew about the route to follow but for whatever reason did not follow through on the submission of said scholarships applications. Perhaps she thought her grades were not up to snuff, or had other reasons.
Thats okay though, she will just have more student loans to repay after she finishes college. Her choice.

So this will be my last Moving Up Day, and although I have previously felt that familiar lump, when the seniors in an extremely orderly fashion leave their seats, and go to lower the flag, while the Junior class then takes the ceremonial Senior position, that lump was missing today. Maybe it was the heat or maybe my age, I am an "older" parent, who is meeting her goal mmade almost 19 years ago of not being in a wheel chair when her youngest graduates.

But I do wish the class of 2011 all the best as they pursue their next steps whether it will be college, the military, work, or (lordy please no) settling down and starting a family. It is tough times right now, making the right choice on which path to follow could determine how at least part of their adult lives will turn out.
My baby is not any more, nor her friends. Perhaps this is the first time I have looked at them in this way. Young adults, starting yet another chapter of their lives.
Now where did I put that aloe.

Who decided on ruffles?

Sunday morning found my daughter and I at a non local mall to find what couldn't be found locally.
Having been referred by no less than two different sources that I would indeed be able to find what I was looking for, I was feeling pretty darn comfortable that I would be heading out with a bag in my hand. By the way, my daughter never seems to have this issue.
I was dropped off at the entrance at the large anchor store, while she parked, as it takes me longer to shop, and she was heading to a few of her favorite places.
Knowing that this would be a piece of cake I confidently made my way to the proper department, but why could I not find the brand I was looking for. Why did all the pants seem to have two inch zippers, or the below the waist designation? I flagged down a sales associate, they seem to like that better than sales clerk, and she led my to the area I was seeking. But wait..why were there only ten pair of the pants I was searching for on the rack and none of the ones in the style I really wanted.
Was I not told by no less than the manufacturer that this was the place to go in my search?
Unable to find what I had come for,and composing a strongly worded letter of complaint in my head, I then decided to spend a bit of time looking at other options. Wait, where did the womens dept. go? Shouldn't it be next to the womens' pants? So I flagged yet another of the associates down and she pointed to the far end of the store, the department I was seeking was in a new location. They had moved the junior sizes to a convenient spot, forcing us of the mature age to walk the length of the store, just to browsed the more mature fashions.
Already becoming a bit disgruntled, and remembering why I like shopping online, I started looking at the clothing that some designers decided we of a mature age would like to wear. I was feeling a bit of a flashback to the sixties and seventies as I looked, as the majority of the selections were definitely retro in style, just more expensive. The preponderance of ruffles and frills on the blouses took me aback. After all ruffles were something that I may have worn while I was a toddler, but those days were long gone.
It also occurred to me that in these times of thrift, what we are looking for are garments that can be washed, dried and worn, without an iron touching the said garment. I dare anyone to pull a ruffled shirt out of the washer and hung on a hanger to dry (manufacturers recommendation) or out of the dryer, and put it on without an iron straightening the ruffles.
After a few conversations with other shoppers with the same glazed look of disgust in their eyes, I found I was not alone in my thinking of "who decided mature women should wear ruffles and beads, or sequins on their everyday clothes? Who decided that the favorite fit should have a two inch zipper or be below the navel. Maybe once in my teens and twenties, but certainly not now as I edge into my sixth decade.
So I opted to leave the big anchor store, and head to meet my daughter, who as I suspected did have shopping bags in her hand.
So buyers of the womens departments, whether you are employed by a big chain store, or a smaller specialty shop, maybe the 70% sale racks wouldn't be so crammed if you just actually went to a mall and sat on a bench for a bit and watched who is going into the store. It might be an eye opening experience for you. If not, I think I know someone who might be able to do a better job.

Holiday weekend?

While the rest of country or what seems like the rest of the country prepares for the traditional beginning of summer, Memorial Day Weekend, I realize that once again I have no plans made.

Instead I am looking forward to catching up on some reading, some chores, and intend on cleaning off my desk, the latter being an resolution, not of the new year variety, more the omg I can't live like this anymore type. Not a lot of plans, but mine, and I like the empty spots I left. As I get older, I like empty spots.
The weather seems iffy, but shouldn't influence my plans, none of which are dependent on weather.

Good thing for empty spots, several of them are taken by errands left undone by my spouse before he departed for the weekend. Taking back roads, to avoid the inevitable holiday traffic that descends in my neck of the woods, I accomplish the said errands with the knowledge that they were not crucial but for whatever reason necessary to be done, after all,"you aren't doing anything anyway." I really hate those words, but once again let them fall off like water off a duck.

Then one of the spots is taken up by dealing with a flat tire on a rental car,that we have, courtesy of an insurance compnay. This turned into a longer than necessary spot, as I dealt with no less than four calls to resolve one flat tire. What happened to the days when you could just call and get a person, a person who actually knew what they were talking about. Sorry, this is a pet peeve of mine, which I will go into at another time.

Well I figure, I will still have time to read a bit and do some personal stuff. Sure I will. My daughter comes home from her part time job, which she dislikes, but keeps, as after all we read that 3 out of four teenagers will not find a summer job, and she has had hers for almost two years, so she goes grumbling out into the world.
She comes home with complaints of an oncoming cold or allergy and can I go to the store to get her OTC remedies, no one likes feeling under the weather, but this dear daughter really hates it, and after all she has "plans". I sense another spot slipping away, but I go because I am after all the mom, and moms do that sort of thing.

Sunday brings with it a full blown, I am going to bed, I think I have a fever teenage daughter. Okay so I feel bad after all she is sick and I am her mom and designate a few more spots to her needs. In the back of my mind I sense my weekend slipping away, my personal chores left undone, my back mail and paperwork unread. To add to the day, it gets hot, and sticky. So I relent and turn on the loudest air conditioner on earth, to get some relief.

A phone call sucks away my final free spots, and it is then I realize that next year, God willing I am going to make plans, for shopping,or for a picnic, or a visit with friends, over the weekend that heralds my least favorite season of the year. This year the weekend of no plans became the weekend of everyone elses plans, and that isn't really what I had in mind.