Another Year Gone By

It’s hard to fathom that my Vince has been gone two whole years as of today. Two long years that have flown by in the blink of an eye – and yet the days and lonely nights have sometimes seemed interminable.

 

Yeah, good luck getting me to explain that so it’s a little more understandable.

 

I know time has passed because my home is no longer the same – physically as well as metaphorically. I don’t have the same sense of peace I once had thinking that we had “many” more years together.

 

When Vince and I got married, he was 50 and I was just about to turn 50. My mom – even in her dementia – used to tease us and say that we’d probably never get to celebrate our 50^th wedding anniversary. This, after asking how long we had been married versus how long she and my dad had been married as she couldn’t remember either number. (She and dad, by the way, were just days shy of their 64^th wedding anniversary.)

 

Vince would tell her that while he was sad that we’d probably never get to spend 50 years together – he was happy that we could make the best of every single year we did have together.

 

And, boy, did we.

 

This morning Maggie got me up before 6AM for her first walk of the day. Normally, I grouse and complain because that’s wayyy too early for me. If I need to bring a flashlight to see her and what I’m picking up, then I say we have to wait at least until the break of dawn.

 

This morning, though, I promptly got up, got dressed and was out the door with her in record time. Why? Well…uh…mostly because she was eating a lot of grass yesterday, which indicated that she had an upset belly. And last night she had the most god-awful gaseous emissions I’ve ever smelled. Especially outta her since she isn’t normally a gassy kinda dog.

 

I brought along two doggie waste bags – just in case. (And, believe me, they were needed.)

 

But I digress. And, plus, that’s way more about my dog’s digestive system than you ever wanted to hear.

 

(Ooh, except one more thing – what in the WORLD did she eat? It wasn’t something I gave her as I’ve been gone most days lately and she hasn’t gotten any people food. Must’ve been something outside that I don’t even wanna know about.)

 

ANYWAY…

 

I ended up staying up when we got back from our first walk. I brewed a cup of coffee and sat in my chair looking out the patio at the rainy, dreary morning, thinking about life and loss.

 

And, for the first time, I read the Facebook comments people wrote when I posted that my Vince had suddenly passed on April 28, 2021.

 

Well, I take that back. I do think I read them back then. But I guarantee you, in my grief and devastation, I didn’t remember a single one.

 

So – two whole years later – I can appreciate the outpouring of love and support. And I thank you for every one of those condolence messages.

 

Last year on the one-year anniversary of his death, I knew I didn’t want to be alone, brooding and sad about his being gone and missing him. So I asked friends to come out for a drink so we could toast him and celebrate his life. We had a lovely evening (in shifts because I could only have so many people in the room I’d reserved before I’d have to pay to rent the room). (Vince, by the way, would have approved of my ingenuity in getting out of paying extra charges…!)

 

But it is so comforting to know I have people in my life who continually send me love and support during this grief journey.

 

To wit, I was invited to get together with some good friends tonight so I wouldn’t be alone. We’ll have a toast to Vince – and we’ll talk and laugh and enjoy our time together. And it will make a sad day just a little more bearable.

 

And yesterday morning I got a text from my friend Lynn who asked if I’d like to meet for breakfast. Yesterday morning.

 

You should know that Lynn and I are not normally spontaneous in our get-togethers. We do the initial texting to suggest getting together sometime soon for a meal. We check our calendars. We have back-and-forth negotiations on the best place, the best date and the best time before finally getting something scheduled.

 

Nope, we’re definitely not spontaneous!

 

But I know how much she and Steve have missed Vince – and I figured they wanted to get together to commemorate the anniversary of his passing – and the love we all have for him still.

 

So I made myself just enough presentable to pass muster in a public place (though hair washing was eschewed as that would have required another 45 minutes of prep time – and it would’ve resulted in a lunch situation instead of a breakfast.)

 

Anyway, we met up, said a prayer, had a toast to him, and enjoyed a meal together. Had it not been for Vince, I would never have met this lovely couple.

 

So thank you, my Vince. The reverberations of your life are still being felt to this day – and will continue, I believe, for years to come.

 

I know others miss him – family, friends and people with whom he worked or went to school with or lived by through the years. People I barely know will tell me they miss his frequent phone calls asking about their day or getting together for a little fellowship. His brother talks about him and his dad surely misses him as he often tells me how he can’t believe his son is gone.

 

So I know without a doubt that I’m not the only one grieving. But losing a spouse is so much different than other losses. They’re all just different. And I’m in no way trying to lessen the impact that those losses have.

 

All I know is that I miss him – and the life we had – and I grieve for the future together we will no longer have.

 

But I also know how much he enriched my life. The things he did and said that I can easily recall that make me smile or laugh. The things he did and said that even now can make me roll my eyes. (But, y’know, I’m an eye-roller from way back.)

 

I miss holding his hand. I miss his hugs. I even miss his crazy driving – turning left into traffic and teasing, “Your side!” as I hang on, squeeze my eyes shut and brace for impact.

 

Well, maybe I don’t miss that last thing so much.

 

But I keep his love for me in my heart and, even through tears, I know I have been blessed.

 

So do me a favor? Hold someone you love close. Tell them how much you love them. And give ‘em a hug. Trust me – it makes the world a brighter place.

 

Stuff from a While Ago that Struck me Funny...

 Sunday, April 23, 2023

 

I’m not sure what is happening with my “stuff” on Blogger.com and Facebook – but the following blog, which was written in 2010 and which I was trying to repost today because I thought it was funny – seemed to be blocked.

 

Come on, people! Am I suddenly being targeted as a problem? ‘Cause, honest…I’m not. I’m just a woman who wants to write about her goofy life. And life back in 2010 was clearly goofier than it is today.

 

So I’ll copy and paste. And we’ll see if it works this way. Otherwise, I dunno what to tell you. I’ll have to resort to writing you all individual letters. Which will cause all sorts of issues with carpal tunnel, and then I’ll be having to buy a lot more paper and stamps and envelopes. And then I’ll be labeled “anti-trees...”  

Not good.

 

And, well, let’s just say I’m not any too anxious to go back to the Pre-Computer Era. So – fingers crossed!

 

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

 

The Office

 

I think my boss is trying to kill me. I’m not even kidding you. Maybe he’s tired of paying the ever-increasing health insurance premiums and this is the best way to get rid of me? Or maybe this is payback for that one error I made back in 2002?

 

Or maybe he’s just tired of my perfectionist-never-makes-a-mistake attitude?!

 

I’m not sure what the reason is, but it seems like he’s trying to tell me something when there are so many noxious chemicals in the air that I seriously need a gas mask to breathe. And, no, I am not being paranoid.

 

As you know if you’ve read any of my blogs for the past five years, I’ve been dealing with a cold. And, okay, so it has only been a couple weeks, but it sure feels like we’re closing in on five years…

 

And I’m not the only one around here who is sick, either. There’s an awful lot of hacking and throat-clearing and nose-blowing occurring in this office and it’s not all coming from me, although I could easily snag the prize for being the loudest and most obnoxious.

 

So why on earth would he choose today – of all days – to repair the floorboard in the empty office near mine? We only keep catalogues in there along with our water fountain. But we’re all used to straddling the broken floorboard when filling our water bottles, so it’s no biggie. Besides, that floorboard has been broken since before I arrived on the scene – and that is going on eight l-o-n-g…I mean, eight magical years! No telling how many decades before that it was broken. 

 

Apparently, my boss decided that the work couldn’t be delayed any longer when the flooring in another office the next building over gave way and created a gap big enough to allow infiltration from four-legged creatures that rhyme with “cats” but are not cute household pets wearing pink collars with tinkling little bells. No, these creatures belong in a landfill or a sewer somewhere far away from the inside of an office building. Or at least far enough away from the likes of me.

 

So, okay, I’ll concede that there is a valid reason for the urgency in having the repairs made. It’s an old German Village office and stuff happens. And I appreciate the effort to keep said creatures from entering the office, which would cause me to screech like a banshee should I ever spy one in here.

 

But the guy doing the repair work (who is currently outside on his third smoke break in an hour), is using some sort of horrendous-smelling glue to fix things. It’s making me a tiny bit lightheaded. This would be bad enough, but now I’m smelling the smoke from his cigarette, which is somehow drifting into my office from the outside. And it’s making me cough, which I’m really tired of doing, thus it’s also making me a little cranky.

 

Perhaps I should also have copped to that one error I might possibly have made in 2005? You think that would return things to normal around here where the worst smell I have to deal with is that which emanates from the break room after some bad Thai food at lunchtime?

 

Probably not. Because that’s not the end of our problems. Seriously, it’s like some cheesy disaster movie around here today.

 

We also have an infestation of flies in the basement. I kid you not. I refused to go down there to see what was meant by “infestation” because, to me, anything more than two flies qualifies as an infestation. Besides, if I saw a roomful of swarming flies, I’d be traumatized for life and you’d find me trembling inside a little white padded room swatting at imaginary flies and drooling and mumbling to myself. So I think I’ll just take their word for it.

 

So what did they do? They set off some foggers down there to eradicate the flies. Which is great, but now I swear to you, the toxic chemicals are filtering up through the vents into my office. You have got to be kidding me!

 

I’m telling you, it’s hard to concentrate on how best to respond to a customer who wants to know if it’s okay to give her 5 lb. mini-pretend dog one of our Meaty Y dog bones that are about the size of a dinosaur thigh and have to be twice the size of her dog. Would it be too sarcastic to simply write back, “Hey lady…duh!”? No, I’d better not. Mostly because then I would have to admit to making another mistake. Darn.

 

So I have a few questions: Is it bad to breathe in the fumes from those bug bombs? How about someone with a temporarily compromised immune system? And, most importantly, shouldn’t all this qualify me for some sort of additional hazardous pay?? 

 

If only I’d known I’d be dealing with all this cigarette-smoking, bug-bombing, super-glue fumigating, fly-infiltrating craziness, I would’ve just called in sick this morning.

 

Gotta admit, though, there’s never a dull moment around here!

 

The Office

I think my boss is trying to kill me. I’m not even kidding you. Maybe he’s tired of paying the ever increasing health insurance premiums and this is the best way to get rid of me? Or maybe this is payback for that one error I made back in 2002?

Or maybe he’s just tired of my perfectionist-never-make-a-mistake attitude?!

I’m not sure what the reason is, but it seems like he’s trying to tell me something when there are so many noxious chemicals in the air that I seriously need a gas mask to breathe. And, no, I am not being paranoid.

As you know if you’ve read any of my blogs for the past five years, I’ve been dealing with a cold. And, okay, so it hasn’t been five years, but surely we must be getting close.

And I’m not the only one around here who is sick, either. There’s an awful lot of hacking and throat-clearing and nose-blowing occurring in this office and it’s not all coming from me, although I could easily snag the prize for being the loudest and most obnoxious.

So why on earth would he choose today – of all days – to repair the floorboard in the empty office near mine? We only keep catalogues in there along with our water fountain. But we’re all used to straddling the broken floorboard when filling our water bottles, so it’s no biggie. Besides, that floorboard has been broken since before I arrived on the scene – and that is going on eight l-o-n-g…I mean, eight magical years! No telling how many decades before that it was broken.

Apparently, my boss decided that the work couldn’t be delayed any longer when the flooring in another office in the building near ours gave way and created a gap big enough to allow infiltration from four-legged creatures that rhyme with “cats” but are not cute household pets that wear pink collars with tinkling little bells. No, these creatures belong in a landfill or a sewer somewhere far away from the inside of an office building. Or at least far enough away from the likes of me.

So, okay, I’ll concede that there is a valid reason for the urgency in having the repairs made. It's an old, German Village office and stuff happens. And I appreciate the effort to keep said creatures from entering the office, which would cause me to screech like a banshee should I ever spy one in here.

But the guy doing the repair work (who is currently outside on his third smoke break in an hour), is using some sort of horrendous-smelling glue to fix things. It’s making me a tiny bit lightheaded. This would be bad enough, but now I’m smelling the smoke from his cigarette, which is somehow drifting into my office from the outside. And it’s making me cough, which I’m really tired of doing, thus it’s also making me a little cranky.

Perhaps I should also have copped to that one error I might possibly have made in 2005? You think that would return things to normal around here where the worst smell I have to deal with is that which emanates from the break room after someone orders bad Thai food at lunchtime?

Probably not. Because that’s not the end of our problems. Seriously, it’s like some cheesy disaster movie around here today.

We also have an infestation of flies in the basement. I kid you not. I refused to go down there to see what was meant by “infestation” because, to me, anything more than two flies qualifies as an infestation. Besides, if I saw a roomful of swarming flies, I’d be traumatized for life and you’d find me trembling inside a little white padded room swatting at imaginary flies and drooling and mumbling to myself. So I think I’ll just take their word for it.

So what did they do? They set off some foggers down there to eradicate the flies. Which is great, but now I swear to you, the toxic chemicals are filtering up through the vents into my office. You have got to be kidding me!

I’m telling you, it’s hard to concentrate on how best to respond to a customer who wants to know if it’s okay to give her 5 lb. mini-pretend dog one of our Meaty Y dog bones that are about the size of a dinosaur thigh and have to be twice the size of her dog. Would it be too sarcastic to simply write back, “Hey lady…duh!”? No, I’d better not. Mostly because then I would have to admit to making another mistake. Damn.

So I have a few questions: Is it bad to breathe in the fumes from those bug bombs? How about someone with a temporarily compromised immune system? And, most importantly, shouldn’t all this qualify me for some sort of additional hazardous pay??

If only I’d known I’d be dealing with all this cigarette smoking, bug-bombing, super-glue fumigating, fly-infiltrating craziness, I would’ve just called in sick this morning. Surely I wouldn't have been required to bring in a doctor's excuse.

I'm telling you, though, if I see a swarm of locusts approaching, I'm outta here!

Censor ME, will you??

This morning I was diligently clicking through my emails in order to delete 99% of them when I came across an email from Blogger.com, which is the platform I use to publish my blog.

 

They were writing to inform me that my post entitled “Happy Hump Day!” from May 26, 2010 (2010, for cryin’ out loud!) had been flagged for review and they had determined it violated their Malware and Viruses Policy and was being deleted.

 

What??

 

All I could think was that perhaps some scammer had made a comment after I’d published the blog and it contained some sort of virus or malware. But I couldn’t check that out since the post had been deleted.

 

It’s not like I had control of the comments published back then. Eventually, they added the ability for the blogger to review the comments and publish or delete, as needed. Many comments were clearly SPAM, so I always deleted them.

 

But, before that time? Hey, that’s on you Blogger.com!

 

I knew that I couldn’t have possibly inserted anything in the body of the blog that would violate anything, but – naturally – I had to search through my Word documents to find the “offensive” blog.

 

So I read the blog in question. And I re-read it. I even chuckled a few times and thought, boy, I was kinda funny back then. I gotta try to regain that sense of humor!

 

But when I finished the blog and didn’t see anything offensive or virus-like, I got annoyed. I may have even gotten a tad perturbed. (Does perturbed show that one is more annoyed than annoyed?)

 

Well, anyway.

 

Blogger.com is “allowing” me to rewrite the piece and if it “adheres to their Community Guidelines” I can submit it so it can be “reconsidered” for publishing again.

 

Oh, thank you so very much, Blogger.com.

 

Instead, I’ll leave it up to you, my readers: do you see anything in the following that violates anything?

 

 

HAPPY HUMP DAY

 

It’s Wednesday and you know what that means – it’s Hump Day. I used to think that was sort of a “rude” saying, but now I totally get it.

 

It did seem like the first two days of this week were an uphill climb. And, boy, has it been a steep climb! Once I get through today, though, it will truly be downhill from here. Friday is a short workday and then we’ve got the long holiday weekend to look forward to. Thank God. I’ve never needed a long holiday weekend more than I do right now!  

 

When Vince and I first started thinking about the holiday and where we might want to go or what we might want to do, we thought of visiting family in northern Michigan. My cousins are closing their restaurant in Leland, Michigan, so they can focus on their other business called “The Redheads” – they make hummus, vinaigrettes and other yummy natural and organic foods.

 

Anyway, they are having a grand finale gathering at Kejara’s Bridge over the Memorial Day weekend, so that was sort of an incentive to make the trip. Plus, I love visiting my cousins! But because I haven’t been feeling well – and now Vince has finally caught my cooties – it doesn’t seem like a smart idea for us to drive 7 hours, party like rock stars over the weekend – and then drive 7 hours home and get right back to work on Tuesday.

 

Here is where I lament, “Why, oh why, am I not independently wealthy?” Whenever I’ve asked the question before, I’ve never gotten a constructive answer. The best I get is some snarky comment like, “Better play the lottery, girl.”

 

Like that helps.

 

So it doesn’t look like we’ll be making the trip. Besides, I never called any of my cousins to say that we were even considering a visit. Can you imagine if we just showed up? “Hi guys. Um…who can put us up for the weekend?” Talk about rude!

 

Leland, Michigan, by the way, does not have a plethora of Red Roof Inns, and sleeping in our car is, well, that just ain’t happenin’.

 

No, I think we’ll be sitting this one out. I’m sure my cousins would appreciate it. They certainly don’t want to hear us performing our nightly 3AM coughing concert. And by “us” I mean “me.” So far, Vince hasn’t chimed in yet, but since he has my cooties, I expect he will be joining me very soon.

 

Instead, we’ll stick close to home with our Vick’s VapoRub and Kleenex and Nyquil close at hand. Well, those will be more for Vince as most of my symptoms – except for the stupid cough – are gone.

 

So what else will we be doing this weekend? Well, we could throw caution to the wind and rent a video or something. (Ooh, we’re livin’ the high life now, aren’t we?!) But at least renting a movie has to be better than watching a free flick on Cinemax. The other night we were bored, so we watched a movie called “Dreamcatcher.”  Talk about bizarre. Alien creatures that looked like slimy snakes with lots of rows of vertical teeth came out of, well, out of people’s hindquarters. I mean…how gross is that?!

 

The movie did not, as you can imagine, make it to my Top 10 Favorite Movies of All Time list.

 

Maybe I’ll just immerse myself in shoes this weekend. I have not one – but two – coupons for DSW that are burning a hole in my pocket. It’s enough to net me at least one free pair! Hmmm…I feel myself perking up here. Yes, I can see spending some quality time looking at row after row, aisle after aisle of pretty shoes!

 

Oh, and then I could throw caution to the wind and actually go to the movie theater and see the new “Sex & The City 2” movie. I can see what kinds of shoes that Carrie and her cohorts are wearing.  Shoes with sky-high heels that I could never (a) afford, or (b) wear without risking life and limb.

 

Okay, so it looks like it’s shaping up to be a shoes-and-Vick’s-VapoRub kinda weekend. Maybe Vince will even cook some burgers on the grill. That’s an appropriate activity for the first summer holiday weekend, isn’t it?

 

Woohoo. I think we’ve got a plan! No, we won’t be partying like rock stars, but at least we can have our 3AM coughing concert in the comfort of our own home. And we can take the whole “sleeping in the car” concern right off the table!

 

Now that that’s settled, I can take a moment to wish you a “Happy Hump Day!” Party like a rock star! 

 

My Florida Vacation

A friend asked me to share photos from my recent trip to Florida and short cruise to Cozumel…and I realized that I didn’t take very many pictures. 

At least not up to the Vince Cordova standard of picture taking for a vacation.

 

I know we’ve become a very “snap happy” society with the advent of cell phone cameras that take excellent quality photos. But it also helps to have someone who thinks to take the photos.

 

For years, that was my Vince. And, because he loved taking photos and documenting our daily life, I have so many memories. Even insignificant dinners where he’d take my photo (despite my protests). Now, when they come up in my Memories on Facebook, I get to remember that night that I may not have specifically remembered otherwise.

 

Before Vince, I felt like I DID take a lot of photos. And this – mind you – was back in the day when we had those little point-and-shoot 35 mm cameras where the film had to be developed. I usually brought my camera along whenever there was a party or a gathering or a trip somewhere.

 

True, there were no selfies or duck lips, or hands on popped-out hips photos. And there were a whole lot of pictures that – once developed – were out of focus or might have been good except that the tallest person had their head cut off in the photo. Or they were just generally a bad photo that should have immediately been thrown away. But because we spent money on the film developing, they usually got tossed in a box of photos with all the other blurry shots as well as the negatives.

 

So now many of us have boxes and bins of photos in attics or closets or basements that need to be sorted.

 

That’s one of my March projects. There. I said it – now I’ve gotta do it!

 

Anyway, back to my trip.

 

I had a wonderful time! I rested and relaxed. I enjoyed the warmth and the sunshine. I had a glass (or two) of wine and some great conversations. I got to dip my toes in the ocean. Several times.

 

My hosts for the first weekend – Melinda and Dan – were happy to show me around their (relatively) newly adopted state. Melinda tried to point out various areas of their part of Florida. In vain, I might add.

 

It’d be like me trying to explain to someone not from Central Ohio the trip from New Albany to Grove City – and all the suburbs in between. To a directionally challenged person, this is a lesson in futility.

 

Perhaps I should have pulled up a map and followed along. But I also knew I wasn’t going to be driving myself around there anytime soon. And if I ever do, I will desperately rely on my GPS.

 

So instead I just enjoyed the drive and looked at the flora and fauna that is Florida.

 

We enjoyed meals out. And had some tasty drinks. And went to a pop-up outdoor market where we poked around the handmade goodies made by locals. One night we even had a Facetime call with our friends Brian and Patty back in Columbus, which was fun. Especially since Melinda, Dan and I were outside on their patio by the pool.

 

I then moved on to Susan and Jeff’s. I worried a bit that I might be overstaying my welcome since I was going to spend several days with them – and then Sue and I were going on a 4-day cruise to Cozumel.

 

You know what they say about guests and fish? Something about three days and beginning to smell – or something like that.

 

But Sue and Jeff were also great hosts and I felt a sense of rejuvenation that being on vacation with no responsibilities ensures.

 

Especially since I had no dog-walking duties. (Haha. Sorry, Mags…!)

 

But Sue and I went to the beach one day and just reveled in the heat and sunshine. Fortunately, for my paler-than-white skin, we had an umbrella to shield us. This, along with my 70 SPF kept me from frying. Thus, I came back to Ohio with a slight tint of color, but not anything that people would look at me and suggest I’d “gotten some sun.”

 

In my teens and 20s, that would have been an insult. But – hey – with age supposedly comes wisdom. Am I right?

 

Sue and I had pedicures one sunny afternoon, which was necessary lest I horrify the natives with my gnarly feet that have been fully hidden in socks and boots all winter. Felt blissfully freeing to wear my flip flops with happily polished toes in “Under the Moonlit Sea,” which is a cool purply-blue color. Sue chose “Aquatic,” which was gorgeous – a sparkly green with blue flakies.

 

Gee, you wouldn’t have guessed that we were going with a theme for our upcoming cruise, would you?

For dinner one night we had burgers on the grill, which, believe it or not, was one of the highlights of my trip.

 

I know what you’re thinking, which is probably: “You are weird, Jane’s Domain!” And that may be a nice way of putting it. But allow me to explain.

 

I can’t remember the last time I had burgers on the grill. Vince used to be our Grill Master and he’d make us the tastiest burgers on any random Tuesday. I took those dinners for granted, I guess.

 

And there is just something about burgers on the grill that no “flame broiled” or “gourmet” burger can hope to compare.

 

Sure, I suppose I could go out and buy a grill and make my own burgers. But it’s just not the same, you know? Besides, I’ve been known to singe off my eyebrows with a grill and, well, that is just not a good look.

 

I also read a lot of books on this vacation. To some, that might mean it was a boring vacation. To me, on the other hand, it meant I truly had a chance to relax. I told my sister recently that I’ve had a hard time concentrating on books since Vince passed. Don’t ask me why. It’s just hard to fully immerse myself in fiction. Sometimes I find myself re-reading pages because I’ll finish a chapter and have no idea what I’ve just read.

 

During this vacation, I managed to read just like I used to. That’s a good thing.

 

Hunh. I didn’t think I had a lot to share about my trip to Florida. Guess I never know when to shut up – and burgers and SPF and book reading becomes the topic of conversation.

 

Ah well. If you’ve read my blogs before, you know that they sometimes meander. (Sometimes?? Surely, you jest, Jane!)

 

I may write more about our cruise to Cozumel in another blog. Meanwhile, enjoy the sunshine-y pictures. 

Here in Ohio on this Sunday, we’re having a snowy, dreary day. But no matter the temperature outside – I hope you enjoy your day.

 

And I’ll be back again soon!

 

Could’ve Fooled Me. (And Did!)

This past summer I walked a lot with Maggie Minx. Wait. Who am I kidding? I walk Maggie Minx a lot ALL seasons – not just summer. But during the summer, I’m not as anxious to get back inside and out of the wind and rain and snow.

 

So my summer strolls included more observations and I enjoyed looking at the pond in the middle of the complex here. There is a fountain, and I enjoyed watching the water tumble and fall and create ripples that sparkled in the sun.

 

There were a lot of ducks early in the spring, but they made a mess out of the walking path, so we avoided it lest we risk getting nasty duck poop on our shoes and paws. Frankly, I knew I’d be careful where I stepped, but Maggie doesn’t pay all that much attention. And, since she’s not the one cleaning the floor, she is blithefully unaware and doesn’t much care where she steps.

 

So we mostly stuck to the sidewalk for our daily walks.

 

Anyway, sometime around mid-June, I noticed there weren’t as many ducks. And I glanced over at the far side of the pond and saw two white swans. I was thrilled to see them as I think they’re beautiful creatures.

 

So all summer I’d see the swans floating around in the pond, but toward the end of the fall I started wondering about their habits. Shouldn’t they be getting ready to migrate south for the winter?

 

These swans weren’t leaving.

 

And – just as suddenly – it occurred to me that I’d never seen the swans out of the water. Nor had I ever seen them flap their wings.

 

And THEN it occurred to me that they weren’t real swans!

 

I know, I know – all you geniuses would’ve immediately known they were fake swans. And it took me more than three months to figure it out.

 

What’s worse, I’d been showing off “my” swans to friends who visited. I’m sure they thought they were real, too, as none of us ventured to the far side of the pond to check them out.

 

Fortunately, I confirmed with someone that they were, indeed, fake swans that had been placed in the pond to reduce the number of geese and ducks from flocking there.

 

I say “fortunately” because a few days later the temperature dropped below freezing with snow and ice on the water and the swans were “stuck” in the ice. Had I thought they were real, I might have called some wildlife rescue to save them, which would have been, well, mortifying.

 

All I could do was laugh at myself for my gaffe. 

 

But this sort of thing happens a lot.

 

Like last week, a couple friends came over to visit. One friend asked me what the plants were in front of my neighbor’s hedges. I said I didn’t know – that she had planted them last summer.

 

I’d never really given them more than a cursory glance because I’m not one to dig in the dirt. And it’s not like I planned to plant some of my own.

 

Also, I don’t know the names of plants. I don’t know whether they need direct or indirect sunlight or how often they need to be watered. It’s a miracle that the six indoor plants I own have lived as long as they have – and a few of them have even survived my move last year.

 

And, no, I don’t know the names of them. I identify them by calling them the “spiky” one or the “frondy” one.

 

My friend, by the way, can tell you the genus and species of many plants. If that includes the Latin or Greek name of it, she knows it.

 

Yeah, I know. Perhaps I should’ve paid more attention when I was younger and I wouldn’t have to resort to calling my snake plant the “spiky” one.

 

Mom had a green thumb and she tried to impart some of her knowledge back in the day, but I didn’t get the appeal of kneeling outside digging in the dirt. Mom called it therapeutic. I just called it messy. Cleaning dirt from under my fingernails? Uh, no.

 

Anyway. After my friends had left and it was time to walk Maggie later that evening, I walked past my neighbor’s house. I furtively bent down and touched one of the plants – and discovered they were plastic!

 

Yeesh. I had given her the benefit of the doubt that she’d found some sort of plant that would survive all year.

 

But I had to give myself a little bit of a break. After all, a couple of my former neighbors had small white flowers that bloomed in the winter. (I just looked it up because, naturally, I couldn’t remember the name. They’re called “Snowdrops” and they will bloom even when there is snow on the ground.)

 

Still. I had to wonder if I’m just that obtuse or do I simply not pay much attention to things that don’t interest me?

 

Let’s go with the latter. Obtuse is not an adjective I really want to use to describe myself.

 

Lately, I’ve been watching some Tiktok guy @SydneyRaz who starts off with “Here’s Something I Didn’t Know Until I was in my 30s…”

 

And I watch his videos because I want to make sure I know about these things. You never know what you don’t know – right? 

On the other hand, I was glad that I already knew that the top rack in a dishwasher can be adjusted and that you can put a wooden spoon over a pot of boiling water and it won’t boil over.

 

Whew.

 

But clearly there were things I didn’t know until I was in my 60s…like sometimes swans in ponds and plants planted outside can be fake.

 

Now I know. Can’t fool me twice.

 

 

A Good Day

The last blog I wrote was about the “oops” kinda day I had recently. Calamity Jane was even referenced. But I figure when I have bad days, I can either laugh about ‘em – and write about ‘em – or I can feel sorry for myself.

 

If I’ve learned anything at my advanced age, I know that the latter doesn’t really help. Oh, sure, sometimes I give myself a few moments to grumble and rant a little or even shed a tear or two in frustration, but then I have to move on and take care of things. It’s not like I have a magical fairy godmother who is following along behind me sweeping up my messes.

 

But, anyway, by the same token, if something good happens to me, then I should write about that, too, shouldn’t I?

 

Well, last Friday I had a really good day. And, by the end of it, I was filled with all sorts of happy vibes and cheerful smiles.

 

The weird thing was, all that happened was I had a great phone conversation in the morning with a cousin of mine – and then a fun lunch followed by a little impromptu shopping with a long-time friend in the afternoon.

 

So it’s not like I won the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes or anything. But neither did I spill anything that required me to break out the dust buster and the mop.

 

Anyway, I guess it just goes to show that it doesn’t take much to make me smile.  

 

My cousin and I hadn’t caught up with each other in a while, so we scheduled a phone call for Friday morning. We talked about this and that, everything and nothing.

 

I was telling her about how Vince could talk to anyone, strangers or friends and family alike, so it was easy to be in social situations with him by my side. And how that was but one of the things I missed about him.

 

But it’s not so easy for me to talk to new people because of my innate shyness. The operative word in that sentence being “new.” She understood what I was saying. And she said she could picture me as a little girl with my bangs and long blond hair, sitting back quietly and watching the goings on in our family without saying much.

 

Not many of my long-time friends think of me as being shy. Because once I know someone well, it’s hard to shut me up.

 

But she has known me my whole life and “gets” me. There really isn’t anyone else in my life who knows me like that anymore. So it was kind of comforting.

 

We were also talking about how gray and gloomy the weather is in both Ohio and Michigan this time of year and how we were looking forward to the spring. Toward the end of our little gab-fest, she marveled at how the sun had come out for the first time in what seemed like forever. So she planned to spend some time outside soaking up a little Vitamin D.

 

We ended our conversation with the promise that we’d schedule these calls more regularly. When I took Maggie out for a walk a few minutes later, I noticed it was all sunshine-y here, too. Oh, happy day! 

 

After I managed to locate my seldom-used sunglasses, I left for lunch with my friend. We went to a restaurant in German Village that I remember going to as far back as my early 20s. So we reminisced about those fun times and the people we knew back then.

 

And we laughed. About silly things. About…well…I guess I can’t give you examples. Maybe it was one of those “you had to be there” kinds of things. Probably one of us said something lame or obvious. And the other one had to call her out on it. But we laughed a lot. And, no – no adult beverages were involved.

 

But, really. I love those kinds of interactions.

 

We had decided to go across the street to a little shop that has been around forever and we had fun poking in all the drawers and rooms holding all manner of trinkets and treasures.

 

And then, because we didn’t want to end the day, we went to another few shops in German Village, none of which I’d ever been to – and I worked in German Village for over twelve years!

 

Our last stop was at a fudge shop across the street from Schmidt’s Restaurant und Sausage Haus (because we were, after all, in German Village). She and I wandered around the small store and exclaimed about all the candy they still sold that reminded us of our childhoods.

 

Anyone remember candy necklaces? Pop Rocks? Wax bottles with liquid sugar juice inside? Candy cigarettes? (Can you believe they still make that last one?)

 

Sheesh. It’s a wonder we survived our childhoods.

 

But in this last shop, I discovered a tiny artificial white birch tree with glimmer lights hidden away behind some other treasures and I decided I simply had to have it.

 

And when I drove home, I was tired but happy. I reveled in having a simple but a good day.

 

And now I have a cute little tree that I set up on my entryway table and added some pink hearts for Valentine’s Day. I envision little shamrocks for St. Patrick’s Day, pastel eggs for Easter…well, you get the idea. And it’ll make me giddy looking at it all year long.

 

Again, it’s the little things, people!

 

So I wish for you a good day.

 

And, since it’s already the first of February, I wish for you a good month.