Lunch and Cousin Sally

Pleasant day.  After our walk and breakfast, I plunged right in again sorting, saving, tossing, packing right up until time to change for our lunch date.
Walked down the Barb's and we drove over to pick up her sister, Pat, in Mystic Shores. Pat is moving in just two weeks to Seattle and has been embroiled in the same battle I have: how to go through every possession you own without collapsing from either physical or emotional stress. She has it somewhat easier than I do, though.  For one thing, she's moved across country several times before; for another, she doesn't own, but rents; for a third, she has only three children, not four.  Even so, she could relate and we commiserated with each other about the difficulties involved in such an endeavor.
Pat is moving to Seattle to live near her daughter, who is 39 and expecting her first baby in May.  Pat will care for him (his name is Noah) when her daughter goes back to work.  How lucky she is!
We had Cuisine On The Green's signature sesame chicken, good as ever, but the service was perfunctory, inept, and slow. We enjoyed good talk and laughs, though.
Got home a bit after 2:00 and, almost immediately, the phone rang. It was my cousin, Sally B., with whom I haven't been in touch for years.  We talked for  more than an hour. Sally is just two weeks older than my brother, Frank (they're 80),  lives in San Diego, and will soon have a knee replaced.  She was a marathon runner until two years ago when she finally hung up her running shoes.  Her husband had a stroke awhile ago and is somewhat infirm; older son has a fatal illness; but Sally's one of those buoyant types, for all that.
As soon as I hung up, I jumped in the car and drove up to Staples for printer ink, then to K-Mart for--well, for--that is, I got--okay, I bought cheese puffs and gum drops, so shoot me!
Before dinner, I packed up the car with my sampler, four ethnic dolls, my antique platter, and a folder of pictures of the other items too big to carry.  This was in preparation for my visit (with my friend) to Red Barn Antiques in New Egypt to see if they want to buy any of it.  I doubt it, but nothing ventured, etc.

Snafu

Not a bad day, but another snafu.  We walked in a kind of blizzard--lots of snow and wind, but we managed okay with umbrellas.  It really wasn't too big of a deal, except, I suppose, for those who buy into weather hysteria.
Did more of the forever job, then showered, dressed, and made up preparing to take Pat G. to lunch.  Barb was driving and I got on my winter gear and waited for her to pick me up.
And waited.  Finally called her at 12:10 to be told our date is for today, Friday, not Thursday.
This is the third time this week I missed an appointment by either the time or the day.  I was a tad concerned (I read Still Alice last year) until I realized the desk calendar I've been using this  year is configured differently from the type I had before.  For reasons too long and involved to go into, it seems easy for me to glance at it and get the day wrong.  Besides, it's printed in too-pale blue and pink, not conducive to easy reading.
As soon as I figured that out, I jumped in the car and drove to Staples, only to find huge calendars at huge prices.  Screw you,
I mentally told the store, and I drove to Target and got more practical versions for $4.99 each.  Now I'm happy.
Betty called and expressed great wonder that we had walked. Damn, I don't want my life ruled by fear.  Maybe because I don't watch television--especially "news," which includes weather--I don't get all het* up about it.  I check carefully--going outside to test it myself--and if I find icy or otherwise slippery conditions, of course, I stay in.  But today's snow--can't decide if it struck me more as pretty or annoying--was crunchy and perfectly safe.  Of course, by the time I drove to Manahawkin in the afternoon, the roads were clear and dry.
As I was making stir-fry for dinner, I heard scraping outside. Frank, my next-door neighbor, was clearing my front walk, although the service would be coming through soon.  I stepped outside and we had a nice chat about my coming departure.  He's one of the major ones I'll miss when I go.
* Hmm...I'm surprised SpellCheck doesn't recognize that.  I think it's a fairly common American colloquialism.

Looking Up

Hey, things are looking up.  Finally, I completed Ellen's box, having put pictures in an informal album and bundled up a lot of other memorabilia.  Got it packed in a flat rate box, zoomed to the P. O., sent it off.  I told them there one of Mike's packages had arrived and they were happy to hear that.
Went from there to Shop-Rite for needed--well, some needed, some wanted--items and stopped at the dollar store, too.
Heard from Betty that she had made our reservations for two weeks from now when we meet up with our brothers in Virginia.  While having lunch, I continued reading Life is too Short, Mickey Rooney's bio, which I find semi-interesting.  I may incorporate into our upcoming show a bit he did in Sugar Babies; it's a shade risque, but I think funny:  Female character says, "I joined a dance troupe. I danced on my right leg.  I danced on my left leg.  Between the two of them, I made a lot of money."  Wonder if our elderly audience will get that.
On YouTube, I found a clip of Rooney and Ann Miller in that show.  I was astounded, not so much at Rooney, as at Miller. Seeing her dance, hearing her sing, I couldn't believe this very tall, very slender, impossibly long-legged woman could be 57 years old. But she was and here's the clip:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qN_4N-0Wvu8
At 4:05 minutes in, she whips off her long skirt and you can see and watch dancin' what must be two of the longest gams ever.
Wow!
Picked up Aline at 5:00 and we went to dinner at Mystic Casino. She begged off going to the Purim show on Sunday, as her sister-in-law asked if she could come up to Westchester.  I'll ask Betty if she wants go, otherwise, will go by myself.
A bit later:  Just enjoyed a virtual visit with Mr. K., that bouncing bunch of baby.  Every time I see him, I yearn to hold his little hand and kiss his sweet head. What a delight!

Whatta Lousy Day

Frustration, thy name is Rosemary!
Or something.  Had a generally frustrating, not to say infuriating day.  It started okay with our walk, then exercise with Anne Marie at 9:30.
Incidentally, these are very, very strenuous.  I'm pretty healthy and active, but I had to modify a bit to accommodate my slight balance problem. I don't think this negates the benefits, though, especially as it simply means I might rest my hand lightly on a chair. Anne Marie includes weights (I'm the only one in the class using a three-pounder; the others use two), stretchies; knee-lifts; arm, leg, waist and even wrist-oriented routines; constant marching in place (you should always be in some kind of movement during the hour); and a large green ball.  All this is done at a rapid pace while various lively songs and music play on Anne Marie's machine. Was this the frustrating part?  Oh, no, I love it.
That came later: I again tried to get Chuck, the crappy car guy, and finally got through. When I asked for the name and number of the mechanic he wants to use (so he'll pay half), we were cut off before the number was completed and it took more trying to get him again.
Well, I won't even go into particulars.  I finally got to the mechanic, but I don't know how we're going to work this out.  He has to look at the car and see what's wrong, then order the part, which may mean I'd have to leave it there, and so on and on.  I'm beginning to think I should just take it somewhere around here and eat the cost.
In the meantime, my Tracfone ran out of minutes and I had a horrendous time, both on-line and on the phone, buying more.
In the meantime meantime, brother Larry called to say he'll be in Tyson Corners, Virginia, to meet up with our other two brothers, Betty, and me.  Talked to Betty later and she'll book a room; I'll look up the train and so on.
Continuing my sorry saga, I spent a fair amount of time getting an appointment with a dermatologist.  You'd think that would be an easy task, but it isn't. It seems all skin doctors on the eastern seaboard (or in the country or all over the globe) are now under the DermOne (used to be Accredited Dermatology when my husband went there regularly) umbrella and it takes ages to get an appointment.  I finally did in Galloway, but not until April.
To top off the day from Hell, I drove to the library at 5:00 for our dinner date only to have Aline tell me we had actually made it for today.
Well, it was a fitting conclusion, I guess; it's got to get better from here.

Lunch and Mary H.

Full day, all righty.  Walked our walk, breakfasted, showered, and arrived at my doctor appointment at 10:00.
Only problem was, it was scheduled for 11:00.  I was annoyed with myself, but took the time to deposit Mike's post office refund at BOA.  Returned in time to stop at Living Word, conveniently next to the doctor's office, to pick up a pair of driving gloves.
The church sells gloves?  No, but its thriving thrift store, where I donate regularly, does and these suit me fine.  I guess one advantage of living in a small town--there aren't a lot--is the close proximity of things.
As I thought she would, NP Dawn wants me to consult a dermatologist about the rough patch on my nose.  Will do.  We had a nice chat otherwise; she told me that her company, Margate Players, will do Chicago in the summer.  Dawn has lost twenty pounds, hoping to get the "Roxie" role and she looks great.
Drove directly to Shore Mall, but decided to wait at Outback for Betty and go to Boscov's after lunch.  I was early, she was slightly late, but we got there.  Food was good, although the service was indifferent.
We then visited Mary H. at Meadowview Rehab, where she's recovering from a bad broken ankle.  After an hour or so, we said goodbye and I went back to Boscov's on my shoe quest.  Wouldn't you know, there wasn't a lot left and by this time, it was after 4:00. Looked around, but didn't see anything, and departed .
Got on the Parkway--and sat for a good hour.  There had been an accident, an electric sign read, and the back-up was miles long.  It finally broke and off I went.

Forever Job Yet Again

My forever job is stretching on forever, it seems.  Hauled out four shoe box-sized containers and eight large albums, filled with pictures.  Went through all, but not very carefully; that would take a month.  Dismantled and discarded the albums, bundled the pics, and made piles of the things I want to send my children.
I did make a major find: A letter I had written to my father in about 1942 when I was a tiny tot.  (He was a civil engineer and traveled at times for "the war effort.")  It's quite charming and I put in on Facebook, then went back to the Eternal Task.
Took time out to construct a big salad, cut up and nuke broccoli, and put dried peas, ham, and seasonings in the slow cooker for soup.  I wasn't even aware we were having such balmy weather--high of 43, I think--but just had to get out late in the day.
Drove to Manahawkin, but didn't get out of the car.  Instead, just stopped at Acme right here in River City for a few items.  Spoke to Betty and we made a date for lunch today.  After my doctor's appointment, I want to look at shoes at Boscov's, then we'll meet at Outback.
Got a message back from my pal, Grey, whom I had filled in about the tiresome meeting on Saturday.  He wrote that he's approached a number of agents about his book--which I'm determined to finish, although it's only on this p.c. and I still don't know how to get it on my tablet.  Since it hasn't been published, it can't be added to my Kindle.
Enjoyed my Sunday virtual visit with Ellen.  It was fun to see her fiancee behind her, busily preparing dinner for both of them.  One day, some day, I'll pack my bags and leave for Heaven...
...Ventura, that is.

Supporting the Troops?

I almost never post two entries in a day, but my journal-y one is so long and this is important, so that's what I'm doing.  Mr. Hornberger expresses my sentiments perfectly.  He mentions the clergy urging "prayers for our troops."  I stopped into a catholic church (from which I liberated myself years ago) in Margate the other day to wait for my sister.  The deacon prayed the usual prayers, then intoned that church-goers should "pray for the safety of our men and women in the military."  What?  For sheer hypocrisy, this takes the cake: supposed followers of the Prince of Peace praying for "our military."  Not for the victims of "our military," of course, not for the non-combatants (by far the majority) slaughtered by "our military, but for those who, like that odious sniper who's lauded as a hero, have made the conscious decision to kill strangers.  Makes me sick.  Hornberger's take on the subject is well worth reading:

http://fff.org/2012/09/21/why-support-the-troops/