Our Summer So Far, 2023

May 18           -   We return to Massachusetts from Florida

June 2-3           - We attend husband Charley's college reunion 

June 4               - We attend granddaughter's graduation from high school

June 18            - We return rested and energized from a vacation to our favorite 

                           spot off the coast of Italy.

June 25             - Charley's brother passes away after a lengthy illness.

June 29-30        - Services for Charley's brother

July 1               -  I begin shopping for our July 4th cookout. The number attending

                            exploded from the usual twelve to forty-something, including 

                            those who said, "We'll just stop by for a drink." The kitchen

                            island transforms into a buffet table, and I rummage the

                            Christmas Tree Shop (which declared bankruptcy) for 

                            red-white-blue melamine plates. I find them for $1.00 each.

                            I hit BJ's for liquor, quantities of non-alcoholic drinks, and 

                            perishables. I begin cooking the freezables - cranberry/orange 

                            breads, strawberry/ rhubarb and apple pies, tomato tarts 

                            (tomatoes drained but tarts end up mushy. Will stick to the quiche

                            recipes in the future.)

July 2              -  The weather forecast turns ugly for July 4th, with thunderstorms 

                             predicted at 4:00 pm for the start of the party. We decide to 

                             forget the badminton and Corn Hole games and set up inside, 

                            where the a.c. can handle the humidity. Charley's sister Kathy 

                            and her husband Norm drop off three small tables and chairs 

                             and help remove our furniture. Frank, who watches our house

                             while we're in Florida, and his partner Tony drop off an 8' table, 

                             coolers, and more folding chairs. Our living room accommo-

                             dates the large table and our dining room transforms into a cafe, 

                             with the three small tables, coolers, and a table for drinks. 

                             We set up our drop-leaf and game tables in the family room and

                              cover all with July 4th tablecloths and centerpieces supplied 

                              by a friend who's attending.

July 3                -  I begin making devilled eggs, baked beans, salads, dips, carrot 

                             cake. All else (except the meats) donated by invitees. I go to 

                             bed reviewing mental lists. Not asleep at 11:00 p.m. and go to the

                             bathroom. 

                             Toilet won't flush!  No water from the faucets!

                             I wake Charley who says, "It couldn't be the well with all the rain

                             we've had. Will call Frank early tomorrow. Don't flush the toilet!"

July 4                -  Frank appears by 8:00 a.m. with two appetizers and says he's

                             already called the well compnay who will install a new pump

                             (ours dead after almost 40 years) on the morning of the 5th.

                             Charley suggests we call all invited guests to cancel.

                             "Not neceessary!" Frank says. "Let's ask your neighbor 

                              across the street (invited to the party) if we can hook a hose up

                              to their well (no town water at this end of town). Charley and

                              Frank receive permission from our neighbors. Frank heads to 

                              Home Depot (open on the 4th) for a 400' hose, which he and 

                              Tony attach between the two houses. We have clear, plentiful

                              water by noon!!

                              Thunder and lightning start at 4:00 as guests are pouring in

                              through the garage and front hall. Son Todd, Charley, and Norm

                              cook dozens of hamburgers on the outdoor grill under 

                              umbrellas. I cook hot dogs on the cooktop grill in the kitchen.

                              Everyone gets to know each other really well without a 

                              clue we'd run out of water! The drinks are flowing.

July 5                 -  By noon we have a new pump in the well, the kitchen is clean, 

                              and donated items have been picked up. 

                              Charley and I head for bed.

Aging Gracefully (or Not)

My body has become a punching bag of late. It never used to be this way. I have never felt clumsy or unco-ordinated. 

In  high school and college I was a varsity cheerleader, an activity I survived without injury. I participated in an amateur dance troupe, again without injury. My husband Charley and I skied the icy mountains of New England's Killington and Mad River Glen with no ill effects except tired muscles. Emboldened, we skied St. Anton, Austria, and despite windmill-like tumbles down a trail one day, we emerged unscathed.

Yet my forearms are now a patchwork of purple bruises, my legs a network of scars. Within the past year, I tripped on my own sneaker during a tennis match and rolled across the clay. Wiping myself off, I hid my embarassment by examining my left knee, where blood bubbled over the embedded clay granules. The scar healed in a gray half-dollar.

My right leg, not to be outdone, buckled against a low rusted metal fence hidden in the pachysandra, as I knelt to pull weeds. Fortunately, I'd had a tetanus shot within the prescribed ten years. The freebie I received was a two-inch jagged scar on my shin...which soon elongated into a snake-like five-inch scar, the additional three inches the result of a stubborn eliptical machine which refused to stop as I stepped off behind it.

I received my latest badge of dishonor during a shopping trip to a very large Macy's store. I was pushing some tops across a rack crammed with black, white, sunshine yellow, and lime green sitting on a table, when the entire rack began tilting in slow motion toward me. There was a clatter of metal on the floor as the upright stanchion of the display fell apart and the merchandise fell into my lap and against my forearm. The rep setting up the display rushed around the jumble toward me. "I filled it too full," she admitted. 

No kidding?!!? 

"Are you hurt?" she asked, examining my arm. "Let's go to the office, We can get medical help and file a report." 

I followed three steps behind, holding my right arm in the air as beads of blood bubbled up out of the rip where my skin lay backwards. The surrounding area of my forearm looked like eggplant peels, with bruises blossoming around the laceration. Both hands sported matching aubergine buds where I'd tried to prevent the rack from falling into me - nothing new, since the slightest knock to my limbs had been producing the same purple glow in my "golden" years.

After the Lagerfeld rep dropped me in a chair in the office, she explained what had happened to the manager and took off to clean up her mess. The manager requested medical help and followed the rep down the hallway. I didn't think to request a gift card as compensation, and none had been offered. 

I waited fifteen minutes for a very overweight man carrying a first-aid kit. He donned surgical gloves, tore open the wrapper of an astringent pad, and handed it to me. Then he helped apply two band-aids. "Please tell me what happened, miss, so I can write a report." I gave as concise a version as possible, blood still trickling down the arm I held in the air, the manager still in absentia. Several minutes later, I headed toward the elevator, wiping away the trickle with a Macy's paper towel. The tear healed within ten days with antibiotic cream and non-stick bandages.

I have begun adding Collagen to my juice to strengthen my hair, muscles, bones, and paper-thin skin. I have reduced my intake of Omega 3 fatty acids (blood thinners to reduce inflammation), since "bruising...is just an unfortunate side effect of a medication that is providing important protection from stroke." (My Mercy online technical support for non-medical questions)

I could stay home in my bubble. But an island vacation sounds more inviting.

A New Year - New Expectations

The end of 2022 couldn't have come soon enough for Charley and me. After three healthy years during COVID mutations, five shots, hundreds of masks, and isolation from anyone suspected of carrying any virus, we succumbed between Christmas '22 and New Year's '23. The Christmas dinner we enjoyed resulted in three of us testing positive within days.

After hibernation in bed for several days,

with energy only to drag ourselves to the bathroom, a slow rise in our desire to eat or brush our teeth followed in succeeding days, during which we lost our fever, chills, swollen glands, sinus pains, and sore throats. We were among the fortunate who had no major respiratory issues and had doctors overseeing our care via teleconferences.

I love to make plans, to have a "to do" agenda each day. I thrive on goals and accomplishments, as small as they may be in retirement - experimenting with a new recipe, winning a tennis match, or outlining a new blog or book.

What's changed since our COVID experience? Everything!  I now look forward to a "palate-cleansing" year (NY Times, "Realistic Expectations for the Year Ahead" by Alyson Krueger, Jan. 8, 2022, Sunday Styles) - that is, one of calm and simplicity, with expectations in check.  I want to move on, while calmly processing each day. Let's face it - we were bombarded by a lot at once: COVID, flu, RSV, mass violence, war in Ukraine, recession, loss of loved ones, etc. Perhaps if I lower the bar on my expectations - for writing a new book, for extensive foreign travel - the risk of disappointment will lower, too. It's a self-defense mechanism in an attempt to simply BE.

My college roommate, a widow compromised with multiple health issues, experienced eight weeks of COVID symptoms in the fall of '22. On Christmas Eve Day she welcomed her son from California, who that night had to undergo an emergency orthoscopic appendectomy. He flew back to California in pain two days later, after which my friend's dog ingested a pack of sugar-free gum, which necessitated a stomach pump and multiple shots over several days.

The good news...everyone is back to good health!

So she and I are processing 2023 together, one day at a time. I will take my time submerging myself in the writing of a new book, whose topic will be the calm and enrichment found in the walks Charley and I have taken around the world.

I'll face the reality that awaits me every day, correct what I can, and accept what comes.

Welcome, 2023!