Good morning sunshine...

This morning I hear a single bird and just noticed the magic of the morning light outside.  There is this glow at the tops of the still naked trees resulting from the rising sun and it is simply beautiful.  It's a sort of "stop and smell the roses moment" where I realize the wisdom of the Buddha's teachings.  A wonderful start to a day!

And all of this with a single cup of coffee.  Good morning sunshine.

Stuff!

You know you are older when you start thinking you have too much "stuff."  Too much stuff to carry, too much stuff to pack, too much stuff to dust.  I now have enough time and disposable income to buy more than I would have without a bit of guilt years ago and... I don't want to.  I used to buy clothes almost because they simply fit.  Now I am looking for staples:  a good looking white shirt (one can never have enough), shoes (only if they are pretty and comfortable - and then if they are really comfortable AND pretty I might get two pairs). My wardrobe is black, white, shades of "greige" with an occasional pop of color and then I have rules for that too: red, cobalt blue and/or taxi cab yellow.  At my age with my skin tone pale colors tend to make me look like celery and any browns make me really look mousy.  And I want my wardrobe to be useful for at least three seasons (hate to change out my closet nowadays).

Even around the house!  I used to "collect" candles, pitchers and bowls.  Well I don't want anymore candles unless they smell great and I can dispose of them when I'm done.  All the holders I've accumulated in the past I'm selling as "vintage" on Etsy.  By definition on Etsy vintage is 20 years or older.  That's easy - there's nothing in my house newer than twenty years.  I'm not pouring anything from pitchers so they're going too and I have one giant glass bowl that is now my everything bowl even if its just a salad for two.

Then there are the bigger things around the house I really need to get rid of and buy replacements for but haven't yet.  Example:  we have a dishwasher so old I call it the "sanitizer."  We have to WASH our dishes BEFORE we put them in the dishwasher so the only good purpose for our current one is to sanitize and hide away the clutter.  Our glasses are rather opaque.  I'm rather amazed when I see how beautifully clear glass can be (when I'm at someone else's house).

We actually have a Maytag washer well over two decades old.  It clanks, bangs, and rocks, probably using more water than is environmentally acceptable these days.  But it works so why change it.  Oh but the age of the dryer is haunting me.  I'm afraid of a fire starting somewhere with 20 plus years of lint collecting in places I can't clean out.

My wonderful double convection oven is going and they actually do not make the replacement parts anymore.  Doesn't that sound "old."  Among the  other widgets and gadgets for it, the self cleaning timer doesn't work.  I'm trying to hold out long enough for a new one so I don't have to clean it one more time.  Of course we had to disengage the smoke alarm (and now I can't find that).   The stove top lost one burner years ago but there is only my husband and I.  And the charcoal (or whatever that impossible-to-clean black "gack") build up is hasn't killed us yet.

Who knew?  I never ever thought I would ever have more than I really need.  A blessing in disguise no?

To Continue...

I miss writing here.  It is has become almost therapeutic, whether there is a real audience out there or not.  However, in an effort to be abundantly cautious let me first place this warning:  Since this is MY blog I have, do, and will, write about my own personal feelings which I take complete responsibility for.   If any expression I may have displayed here offends anyone I apologize.  I certainly mean no harm.  With that said, I reserve the right to continue my musings on people, places and things... thoughts or dreams... complaints and grumblings as I wish.  And I may, from time to time, rant on (without malice) if some experience I have had is (to me alone) worth my writing about (see "Apple Ugh").

 Having said that, I continue with my journalling my journey to sixty... The good, bad and the ugly...

Fear of boredom...

I'd love to write something profound with every day as I get closer to 60.  That's not going to happen for a few reasons:  

1 -  I can't possibly write everyday without it becoming a burden (bore);

2 - Without some hopefully universal significance this becomes meaningless rambling; and 

3 - My life just isn't that interesting which is not to say it isn't special and precious to me.

As I get older and continue to collect years of information building my own history, it becomes abundantly clear to me that my life is not too surprising for that of a typical member of the baby boomer generation.  I am not the statistical anomaly I always thought.  Or am I...

If I think about the span of sixty years so far I have two lists of significant memories.  One historical that is shared by most people my age at least in this country and the other personal.

Maybe for the next few entries I'll simply explore those...

Moving on...

Well Dorothy...

You're not in Carefree anymore but you are home with 15 plus inches of snow and 29 degrees as a reminder.  And now what?  All these weeks time went too slowly and too fast.  Heartwarming and heart wrenching experiences along with some idle boring days and is there a result?

Of course there are many.  I tried carefully coordinating and controlling my breakdown but it didn't work.  Apparently demons I thought were conquered years ago are alive and well and trying to wreak havoc with the rest of my life.  However the future looks hopeful.

I did venture out and about and explored real estate all over the Scottsdale area (just in case retirement is in Arizona).   I looked at everything from a beautiful "quaint" little house in the very exclusive Boulders Resort to these amazing rustic cabins built between the 20's and the 40's on leased government land in a National Forest although now I understand why some people find a need for a gun, a big dog and a truck - these places were truly in the middle of nowhere.   I also looked at another property in the community our current condo (now rented by a lovely ASU student) is.  I want to keep up with the comparables pace of the market there.  And - yug - I looked at a condo in a 55+ community that would serve better for the 85+.

I'm not sure how I feel about "senior" communities.  My aunt (in San Diego) lives in a studio apartment in one of these and I was delighted to see how really nice it was.  What I found more comforting is the network of friends she had developed in the building.  My wonderful "forever mother-in-law" (there is a story to that) lives in a similar but more sprawling senior neighborhood and she (a decidedly and truly independent woman) thrives there.  I have this sweet memory of her and my daughter, when she just began college life in a dorm the same year her grandmother moved into her new digs, comparing notes on what a drag it was collecting quarters for the laundromat down the hall.

However, the prospect of me, or my husband and I, settling into a 55+ residence seems premature even with him at 62 and me approaching 60.  Actually, I haven't seen or heard of one I would ever consider living in.  I have this terrifying image of turning into Jerry Seinfield's parents.  I dream of downsizing to a cottage or a "destination" place instead.  But thinking of where to begin getting our present home repaired, updated and ready to sell is overwhelming.

So among the many decisions to be made at this juncture is where to live and how (two small places for alternating seasons - if possible; one small inexpensive place leaving time and money to travel a bit; or, stay here and invest the monies to update, repair and maintain a home in one of the most expensive areas of the country to live and begin to truly take advantage of the area we already are.

I have to really remind myself how lucky I am (we are) to have these choices these days.

Dessert in the Desert...

Note:  for some reason I haven't figured out yet with these most recent posts, they result in more like BLOB than blog entries. Can't seem to get anything to translate from the iPad. As soon as get my hands on a stationary computer (hmmmm maybe I'll buy a laptop).


To go on:

I went to the English Rose Tea Room in downtown Carefree today and had my very first official authentic English Scone along with real Devon cream, strawberry jam and French pressed coffee. The irony of having a real scone in, of all places, a desert has not passed me. Nor has the irony of having my first real scone at 59 years old (the rocks at Paneras represented as "scones" notwithstanding).

This new experience was part of one of my walks into town and back. This is the "high" season in this part of Arizona and I can see why. The weather is glorious (low 70's by midday). It's a bit high I hear for this time of year this week. Last week was running low (actually freezing some nights). Though each and every day so far the sky has been cloudless and so blue. Does one ever get tired of sunny days? I suppose. Long rainy days have there place. And Vivaldi's inspiration for his Four Seasons I well understand. But there's something about being outside on a perfect day, every day, in the middle of January that I can't imagine getting old.

With this time of year come the art shows, wine festivals, horse shows, car shows... A lot to do --- or not. And so much to do "outside.".   My sister-in-law (my brother's widow) does some real mountain-biking regularly and she will be 50 this year I think. Horse back riding has to be an amazing experience in this weather on this terrain (barring the surprising appearance of any snakes - what kind I don't know though rattlers are more in summer I hope).  I love this part of the country six to eight months of the year (remember the summers are intolerable In the desert). I see a lot of tourists and I recognize the snowbirds. Maybe I'll become one myself soon. I fantasize about having a cottage near (very near) a beach but the pricing for that dream seems unrealistic. THIS dream is doable (just have to figure out where to go for the summers that is affordable).

And hmmmmm what would I do? I'd paint! There is such inspiration here from blooming cacti to mountain views. What's amazing to me here now in the middle of winter when nothing is flowering and whatever has passed as grass is now brown, there is such surprising color and vibrancy all around. This is where I see what " purple mountain majesty" must come from. I'd walk (I'm far too breakable with my back to ride a horse or a bike). I still want to try fly fishing and maybe some yoga (without flexing my back = doctor's orders - is that possible?).  And here I'd imagine yoga (the very little I know about it) would be such an enhanced experience outside with the air so pristine and the quiet here in the foothills. Of course I'd work at whatever I am confined to be able to do with this stupid back thing. I would volunteer for something (outside of course - maybe at someplace like the wildlife sanctuary). I'd sit on my patio some evenings watching sunsets with a glass (or two) of wine waiting to also (so maybe more than two glasses of wine) look up at the clear night and marveling at the stars.

 And, of course, I would be sure to make it into town every once in a while to sit outside enjoying my scones and coffee in a magical environment of pink napkins, pink roses, tea cup chandeliers, black wrought iron tables, wrens flitting about for the crumbs on the floor and simply enjoy the time, the place and the dessert.

It's My Blog and I'll Cry If I Want To

A Sanctuary for wildlife and rest of life...

Yesterday I went on a tour of Arizona's Southwest Wildlife Organization. I had a fascinating experience of seeing and hearing the sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes funny stories of how these animals came to be at this center and what their futures held. I saw, among all: • coyotes • foxes • raccoons • Mexican gray wolves • mountain lions • javelina (very ugly) • mule deer • bobcats • bears • and the strangest little creature I've ever seen a Fennec Fox named "Gobi" It was a small tour and of all things I was the youngest participant so we moved rather slowly.

Typical stories were where people for the best and the worst of reasons "rescued, adopted, sold on the Internet" these most beautiful of creatures and soon found domestication was not really a viable option. Some of these animals would be (once healed or made healthy) returned to their natural habitat and some would remain to be cared for for the rest of their lives in this "wild" but maintainable sanctuary because they no longer could survive in their original and natural worlds.

And that's my awkward segue to what adaptability or attempts at it may bring both in success and in failure. Yesterday was also my husband 's birthday. I sent him an arrangement of flowers that included roses and iris'. The sentiment was intentional: roses for love and iris' for hope. To be completely 'cheesy' as my daughter says, my message was to say: "I hope our love gets us through this". I never imagined that after twenty years of marriage we would be where we are or better to say - where I am. What I'm surprised at is I shouldn't be surprised at all. AGAIN, a gaping need for reference, support, some well of information for "endolescents" as myself. Think about it: during our (the baby boomers) maturing years divorce rates have increased, hence remarriage's have increased and blended families now are, to say the least, not uncommon. But, if you think it through to the present, those blended families are now comprised of adult children - and adult stepchildren.

That fact brings on new issues (heretofore unforeseen by me) and precious little is out there to help someone like me navigate through what turns out to be a startling turn of events. This is the impetus for my "running" (to Carefree and maybe beyond - ugh I hear the theme of Star Trek now). I keep saying to myself and anyone who'll listen: I thought it was over. I thought we made it through and successfully so. I was about to relax and enjoy the satisfaction of seeing our grown children live their own lives independently and successfully. As a parent, as a stepparent nothing is more gratifying than seeing your now adult children be happy. And all of ours are ----- but ----- In at least one case some level of that happiness seems to be is at direct odds with the cohesive unit of my marriage. And that I don't understand but perhaps should have. Maybe and moreover, sadly, no matter what one may try to do to adapt, assimilate to, or just be a viable part of -- some things just cannot work... Not a conclusion I have come to to yet... But...

The Little Adventure Begins...

Blanche Dubois I am not...

But take me to a state where I have to pump my own gas and I'm suddenly reduced to a helpless female.  Give me a Chrysler 300 to borrow and it's worse because there is no "pull" or "tab" or "button" or any kind of "thingy" to pop the gas tank open !  So now imagine me AND the attendant climbing all around and over and inside of the car trying to open the damn little flap.  Turns out one has to press unlock a couple of times and then press gently on one side of the stupid flap and voila we are ready to go.  I only found this out AFTER calling the Chrysler service guy!  How did we survive before cell phones?

By the way there are only two states where one NEVER is allowed to pump their own gas.  New Jersey and some other.  So chances are as soon as I leave my home state I'm in trouble at least 96% of the time.  Did I do the math correctly? 

It was a good day today.  Long, lazy, meandering and COLD... In Arizona of all places.  I think it's warmer back home.  I woke up to no running water.  Turns out the pipes almost froze overnight.  Actually a few of the villas had burst pipes resulting from the rare freeze last night.  But after I called the agent and her husband (I think she told me he would actually use a hair dryer to warm something up) I made my coffee and climbed into a giant bathtub filled to the brim with hot lavender bubble bath.  They must have a water softener here because I had creamy suds on top of creamy suds.  

And then I just floated around lower Scottsdale doing some errands.  And I DIDN'T go shopping (except for some art supplies for my bartering commitment).  I don't NEED anything... Anything! No clothes, jewelry, things for the house.  Nothing really unless it screams out to me as a must have.  Never did I ever think I would have everything I  really needed materially. That has to be because of my endolescence.  If I'm going to spend money now I'd rather spend it on doing something!  And even that doesn't have to be extravagant.   I did go to a fine art show where one can actually watch the artists do their work but it was just too cold (it's spread out under huge white tents) for everyone including the artists.  But I have my pass (using my senior discount) and I will go back in a few days when it's warmer.

 Although I have figured out a brand new experience I am going to try (when it gets a bit warmer).  There is a lake about 45 miles northwest of here where 0rvis actually has fly-fishing lessons including all the equipment needed.  I can do that (maybe) even if I have to wear my back brace.  Well, of course, I could pull a "Lucille Ball" and end up hopelessly tethered to some tree but I'll still have fun while entertaining anyone around me so long as I don't hurt them somehow... Hmmm...

The Other Woman ?  Not quite but...

This may not or may not be posted - I'll just have to see where this goes.  One paragraph in a previous posting set off a bomb and the shrapnel from that is still being removed - not all successfully.  Knowing and seeing that,  I may just let this one blow up as it may for how much more damage can be done to something already irreparable?

I'll start here.  I've been married for twenty years this June.  My husband and I have known each other for thirty years (meeting where we both worked eons ago).  And today I can say without any hesitation I love him more than any day before.  I will always love him.  And I know he loves me.  For two people who really have little in common we both laugh and love the same way and we share the same value in "family" and people in general.  Other than that what we share in interests is nil.

 For example:  

He loves almost all sports - I on the other hand couldn't figure what on earth the clock in stadium could be timing at one of the few baseball games I've been to - an inning?  - a run?  After he stopped laughing when I asked he made me promise I would NEVER tell that to anyone.

His TV preferences other than sports are such as (including reruns, again and again) The Sopranos, Seinfield, Larry David, Jeopardy, any Godfather movie, any inspiring sports movie (based on true stories), any film Jeff Bridges, Al Pacino or Robert Dinero  is in.  I confess I watch CSPAN, any English mystery, the only real reality show: 48 Hours (NOT the N BC one), Judge Judy and ANY actual trial going on.  I've watched court TV and the like way before O.J.

Athletics, staying in shape and exercising regularly have been a key part of his daily routine forever.  He runs, bikes, spins, goes to the gym regularly, and weighs himself every day.  I do NOTHING but maybe... if its not too cold or too hot... walk.  My activities are (painting, writing, crafting, redoing something around the house, researching on the Internet (it is truly amazing what you can find more about - person, place, or thing - like peeling an onion) and the more placid activities like that.

I'm "handier" around the house than he which makes me the "go-to" person for repairs or finding the right person or service for repairs.  Then again I'm no cook unless I'm really inspired to be and that doesn't happen very often.

I read everything all of the time:  news, politics, history, biographies.  He buys books often and the binders on every one  is as new as the day it was purchased.  Do I need to say more?

My taste in music runs the gamut from country, classical, indie, old time rock and roll, blues... Actually I can only think of two types of music I DON'T like :  polkas and progressive jazz.   He likes Bruce, The Beatles and maybe a handful of classic rock bands.

He is a person of routine and order.  He is a process person.  I, on the other hand, am more the gypsy.  I'm more apt to just get up and go... And see what we find.  He needs to plan, prepare, assess and make sure whatever it is we may be embarking on doesn't disrupt any other daily ritual that may have been established and now engrained onto our calendar.  

He LOVES to talk.  He talks, to the mailman, our neighbors, the grocery clerk, another guy running - anyone and everyone anytime.  He denies this but we now know practically ALL of our neighbors on our street.  We barely knew, much less, talked to a neighbor before he retired.  I'm not good at small talk.  Unless I'm engaged in some deep esoteric and/or philosophical topic I get restless and just want to go.

Add to all that the eternal and universal differences between men and woman and I'm amazed we are a "couple" at all.  I remember someone telling us way back when (it had to be our Couples counsellor):  people are generally as much attracted to their differences as they are to their similarities which invariably may cause conflict at some times.

But with all that said we are truly happy together most of the time,  we really enjoy being with each other, we love the history we have built together.  We laugh a lot!!!  Friends and strangers like us as a couple.  Lots just love to watch us banter back and forth as we can be pretty witty and fast with each other and that seems to be very entertaining to many.  He does have a great sense of humor.

So, with all that, why are both our hearts breaking now?  Why, instead of fighting or quarreling are we crying?  Why has this time become the saddest time of our lives together?  Why are we so afraid this marriage may be dying?

Carmela Soprano and I...

Fair Warning:  The following may be too much drama for some.

We (Carmella and I) may have some things in common (other than being married to an Italian).  When I came into the den the other night to talk to my husband he was watching the end of a scene in "The Sopranos" where Carmela had announced to Tony that she is leaving for a vacation for three weeks - without him.

I too am off soon for three weeks (Arizona not Italy - if it were Italy I would NEVER come back).  Now there are many differences here:  I am not leaving because of any quandary I have with any moral or ethical issues with my husband (e.g., Carmela was beginning to feel complicit in and unable to ignore what her husband really did for a living).  And, I am not going off on this little adventure because I found out anything awful (like affairs that Tony was always having with someone - well I certainly hope NOT).  My husband is a wonderful, loving man with a clear and deeply held appreciation for values in family and friends.  And, unlike Carmella, I am going alone and expect to be alone most of the time.

But I am going off on this odyssey solo for some of the same reasons:  introspection, self discovery, time to think (that could be dangerous with me though) and reassessment.  I do realize that I am lucky to have that privilege.  I also know that at this critical crossroad I need to do this.

This can't be all that unusual these days with the boomer generation's maturing.  My husband is about to be 62 and I am to be 60 and, hard to say here, but we seem to have completely different ideas on what this stage of our lives should be and should bring.  Some of those opposing ideas AND recent events have brought upon us some serious conflicts.  And that terrifies and saddens me.

Maybe I'll come back from this trip with a different point of view.  Maybe I'll be able to accept some of what the (at least) the immediate future will be with my wonderful husband.  I know I am being cryptic but a lot of the impetus for this trip comes from some recent personal events that can't be explained here. The irony though is that none of those recent personal events occurred between my husband and I.  Maybe I'll write it all in a book some day, change the names and a few details "to protect the innocent" and get it all off my chest.  Hmmmmm... lots of maybes here.

The absolute hardest part here is how really hurting my husband is.  Then again, that is why I am having such conflict... I have watched him be hurt (unintentionally certainly but by actions or inaction's without thought as to the consequences for him).  To say he is a loving man.... to say he is a good man... still doesn't convey the kind of open, giving, selfless person he really is.  No one has ever met him without loving him in someway (neighbors, friends, grocery store clerks, the mailman, business associates, our children's friends, our children's friends parents, anyone he may run into while running, almost everyone).  He has the innate ability of exuding this sincere warmth and care and humor with every person he meets.

I can't see myself living without him.  But... I can't see myself watching him hurt so deeply anymore by persons and things I have no control of.  I hope to come back from this trip assimilating recent events and our twenty year history in a way that renews our future together... That is something I have to work on and hope to resolve for myself by the time I get back.

Dear Apple: Edward Bulwer-Lytton was correct...

"The pen is mightier than the sword" and I've learned that through the short life of this blog at least twice so far.  Once painfully so in expressing myself about something personal that I certainly should not have (see "An Apology...") and now in a surprising response to my recent rantings about an Apple retail experience I had (see "Apple Ugh...").  This power however can have (not with my meager little ramblings though) an exponential growth factor that is incalculable because of the huge "on--line" audience that may be out there.  As with any "tool" or "weapon" used in the wrong hands or used the wrong way it can be dangerous.  However, used in the right way in the right hands (all subjective of course) it can bring delightful surprises.

The gentlemen from Apple who actually read my blog called me and told me about a lesson he had learned sometime back from his Mom (of course, I know, now I sound like I'm 110 years old) who said:   "Always remember one person usually tells about 12 people about an experience to which each of those may tell another 12."  Obviously these days, one person writing into the ether of the Internet may be telling who knows how many people?  By the way, my blog as of yet has NO followers but my statistics and my experiences show a LOT of people reading it and not just in this country.  

So I was delightfully surprised to find that when someone from Apple actually called me.  Little old me who had a bad consumer experience (and ranted about it here) while trying to buy a small Apple gadget from one of the Apple retail stores in my area. So kudos to Apple here for really caring about customer service.  And using "my pen" I will be writing directly to the store's management to thank them for their attention and consideration.

Apple Ugh...

Not the fruit.  Not even the product.  I love my Apple everything (I have an iPad, an iMac and an iPhone and if I could I'd add an iMac notebook to my collection I would).  Geesh my grandson just got a mini iPad for Christmas!  My family is part of the Apple zeitgeist.  But here when I say "ugh" I speak of "the customer service" (certainly a euphemism  in this context).  The phone service is "okay" as (the taped recording assures you  "it can understand full sentences" - how comforting).  You invariably are left to to decide whether you are ready to pay for your "AppleCare" telephonic session to learn how to perform a function that really should be available for reference somewhere at no cost ( in my humble opinion).  Or, you could Google the bazillion forums out their to isolate your exact need and hope you find a coherent answer.  And then try it hoping you don't screw up... which may reduce you to having  to pay for an AppleCare session anyway!  Or, in my case I could call upon my stepson but he really is busy doing is real job in IT.

It is actually the act of wanting to purchase Apple products with the assistance of the retail "customer service" providers -- aren't they called "Genius'" in the physical brick and mortar stores I speak of here.  Have  you ever had the pleasure of seeking assistance in one?   Any assistance?  Even when you're ready willing and able to BUY something Apple at the Apple Store or buy many things Apple in the Apple store.  Once pushing through the large glass door and stepping into the chaos of activity one seems to morph  into a shrinking, pitiful, lone, uneducated, obviously un enlightened consumer wandering around trying to get the attention of a "red shirt."  And invariably one "red shirt" is fully engaged in talking to another "red shirt" about anything BUT Apple and you are left more than likely thrashing about hopelessly out of your element gasping for air (in this case attention).  And they (the red shirts) are leaning on some counter somewhere watching you drown.

Aha , and when you are finally are to able to be assertive and grab onto a Genius to ask your obviously ridiculous, illiterate, simple minded (so says the disdainful expression on my Genius' face) questions, the responses are quite and downright appalling with their tone of shear condescending boredom.

My recent example:  I have, as I said, an iPad that I confess to being addicted to. I want to be able to download pictures I've taken from my camera directly to the iPad so I can upload them from time to time to my blog or whatever else.  (Note:  I'm not sure I have the language right but I think my intent and ultimate goal is obvious to anyone).  Since  I recognize I am technically limited I actually prepared for this Apple Store visit by finding and printing a short article on what I thought I needed.  I also brought my iPad and my camera for reference if necessary.  All I wanted to do was buy the right gadget and be assured by my "Genius" that it was the right gadget!  By the way, I wanted to talk about possibly buying a notebook as well but things never got that far.

Well they are not paid on commission so that explains some of the attitude.  But as to the rest of the attitude I really don't understand the stores' business mission.  Maybe it's just to demonstrate the bustling activity of every store which translates to - what:  popularity, enviable success, consumer coveted products?  If that's it and all Apple succeeds.  If, on the other hand the store is to "sell" products, provide information or, serve the customer, the store is NOT the place to go. One is far better off on line (voice or data).

Apple's hubris may bring on some troubles sooner than later.  There are many books, and business articles written on the dangers of business' bringing on their own downfall as a direct result of their hubris (recent example:  HP).

This entire experience is relevant to this blog for only one reason.  I've seen it over the past years happen to some huge, companies no one ever thought would suffer any undoing.   So Apple, dear Apple. please do not succumb to your own complacency on success and remember --- the customer --- the ones who brought you there. 

Oh Christmas Tree...

Driving down our street this morning I noticed many neighbors had put out their now used Christmas trees for the town pick up schedule.  At first I thought "hmmm seems kind of soon."  We would usually keep ours up 'til the last call for the DPW's swing through town.  There were  many  here and there at the end of driveways.   It didn't look like everyone on the block put their's out.   I suppose some people are squeezing out of Christmas as much as we always tried to.  The trees that were out were about six or seven feet (seems the norm around here), some were taller.  All looked  sufficiently fat and full to have been beautiful in their glory.  

And suddenly it occurred to me -- Oh my God!   This year our own Christmas tree, would, for the first time in the last twenty years, NOT be in keeping with everyone on the block!   This year we got (and we swore for years we would NEVER do it) -- A TABLE TREE!!!  Not only did we get a table tree but we got it maybe two days before Christmas.  A table tree!  Well at least it was real one but still -- a table tree ?  Isn't there something kind of sad about that?  A Charlie Brown tree is at least endearing.  That had meaning.  I can just hear Linus talk about the true spirit of Christmas. Our tree this year makes a different statement:  convenience!  And when did convenience become a part of our Christmas?

I remember the first real tree I put up by myself when my daughter was so young (after my first husband and I split up).  I was determined to have a real Christmas tree and to choose it, drive it home and put it up.  Yes!  The independent, self-sufficient woman!  It took me four hours once I got all four and a half feet of it up the stairs.  I couldn't get it IN the stand much less "straight" AND secured  in the stand after oh so many attempts.  I tried everything: a chair against it so it could at least lean and be straight - that didn't work.  I propped a book or two under one leg of the stand but of course the water would spill out and it was still kind of precarious (not good especially when one has a cat).  The base had so many holes in it from my twisting the bolts here and then there and then this way and then that I was sure it would dry up in a day.  

After literally four hours I was completely drenched in perspiration.  I had enough sticky resin all over my hands that almost everything stuck to them like Velcro.  Our cat ran and hid somewhere probably because of my incessant cursing and the green "creature" rattling and railing.   But, finally it was up and it was straight.  I had tied three separate pieces of rope to the stem to key parts of our bookshelves so gravity didn't have a chance!  Now THAT had nothing to do with convenience!  

Each year thereafter I (with help) or we (my second husband and I) went through the ritual of choosing the right tree and getting it into the house without breaking anything.  Invariably it was too tall because we wanted a grand tree so we would take it out and saw some inches off of it and bring it back in again.   My  husband and I would alternate between being splayed out on the floor twisting those ridiculous screws or standing up holding this huge heavy tree hoping our arms wouldn't tire out and let it lean.  And then we'd take turns stepping back to assess if indeed it was standing tall and straight and secure.  Oh, yes there  was one year the cat managed to knock it down --- all seven fully lit and decorated feet of it.  None of anything we did during those years had anything to do with convenience!

So, now that all our kids are adults, two married, and all establishing their own celebration we alas succumbed to convenience.  Actually we were secretly but surprisingly pleased.  It was and will all be so easy for so many reasons not the least of which is getting it out of the house.  Then my husband and I laughed as we realized how this itty bitty skinny, barely three foot tall Christmas tree would look at the end of our driveway.  Maybe we could just throw it in the woods behind the house so no one could see it?

But I declare here we will NEVER  have a FAKE tree that you just pull out of the box, pre lit or worse, pre decorated!  

          "Time goes, you say?  Ah no!  Alas, Time stays, we go."  ~ Henry Austin Dobson.  

To be perfectly honest I haven't a clue who Henry Austin Dobson is but I love this quote.  And it is truer as time does go by isn't it?  I'm off to look him up now and figure out how best to dispose of our table tree.

Landing... in Carefree (Part 2)

Note:  this pic is from another time traveling to Sedona - might take a ride...

So... feeling this new found "go for it" confidence that has to be a part of this "endolescence" process I politely wrote:

"Thank you for responding so quickly.  The price, although very reasonable for the beautiful area and the villa and the time of year, is more than I'd like to pay.  I was hoping that if the property was vacant your property owners might be inclined to think some rental is better than no rental.  I have friends at the Boulders who can give you impeccable references if you wish.  I am almost approaching 60 so there's no partying or overnight guests anyone has to worry about.  Please don't be offended (nor the owners of course) by my response.  I know the area and I know it to be beautiful, upscale, pristine and coveted especially this time of year."

I also referred them to my artwork site and offered additionally a piece of my original artwork if they liked my styles.  And... IT WORKED!  It worked out really well.

So, I have a beautiful place to stay for three full weeks, flights reserved, (my wonderful, beautiful, amazing girlfriend is letting me use her car while there = big $ saving on a rental), found a shuttle at a reasonable price that should get me to Carefree from the airport.  Well let's hope I don't end up stranded on some empty desert corner with one huge suitcase and no way to get anywhere (GPS on my iPhone notwithstanding).

Carefree here I come!  For... I'm not sure what it is for yet:

1.  quiet time to think
2.  respite from the cold
3.  safe place for a nervous breakdown
4.  hiatus from the East Coast chaos
5.  reprieve from some personal dramas
6.  sabbatical to continue my new love of writing
7.  all of the above

And, I indulged in one of those spray tans so I wouldn't look like a piece of celery compared to the "natives and/or the snowbirds."  Although right now Im looking more like a Tootsie Roll.

An adventure all my own at 59 !!!

And this is a beautiful creature I found hangin' out in front of a building at the Grand Canyon last year. Didn't realize til later that it was not wise of me to get that close :)

Landing... In Carefree (Part 1)

Carefree is not a state of mind in this instance.  Carefree is a place in Arizona.  It is way way up north just before you get to nowhere if you're driving to Sedona and points further upstate.  It is true desert with saguaro (still can't pronounce that correctly), coyotes, and those poisonous creepy things as big as crabs (I forgot what they're called - oh -scorpions!).   And some of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen.  There must be something about the air in the evening in that part of Arizona because every night the colors of the sky, the mountains, and the sun setting are like a purely colored work of art (something I plan to do a pastel painting of now).

I know Arizona.  My daughter went to college and then grad school at ASU in Tempe (pronounced Tempeeeeee if you live there).  I had the pleasure of being there every August for years to help my baby get ready for the coming school year.  HOT!  And I don't care how "dry" the heat is it is still unbearably hot.  I've run into an awful lot of not-so-bright people out there.  I call them "fried eggs" because the sun must have affected them.  Like handymen - never on time - friendly enough - but will talk and talk and talk - and they're not even being paid by the hour - no wonder they're never on time.  We had an incident one August where we had all sorts of utility workers digging up the front yard to repair some underground pipes.  One gentleman was assigned to "watch" the front and he did.... all afternoon.... in late August mind you when the temperatures reach 110 and above.  He sat on the gravel, without a book, a pad of paper or something to write with,  a radio, an iPod, a phone ----- anything ----- for hours!  Does not that make for a fried egg?

However eight or maybe ten months of the year if not tolerable are beautiful!  The air is glorious.  The sky is magnificent and it's amazing how many colors you find in a desert.  And if you ever have the privilege of being there in early May the scent of orange blossoms almost whisper to you sweetly from time to time.  Everyone looks healthy and tanned with beautiful teeth (must be the hard water).  Well there are also the ones with their butts lifted, boobs enhanced, lips puffed and the like... Can you imagine a woman my age wearing white pants with thongs underneath that you can't help but notice? NOT a pretty sight to me anyway.

And way up north past the concentrations of high-end shopping centers, restaurants, "planned" golf communities, highways and boulevards is Carefree and Cave Creek and the real NORTH Scottsdale.  Just about at the foothills.  And I love it there.  Unfortunately my husband does not.  He believes only lizards could survive there.  Actually, artists, cowboys, some rednecks, many wealthy retirees, and plain old folk live up there.  I have friends who live at "the "Boulders."  One must say that with the chin a bit raised and the eyes a bit lowered to appreciate the exclusivity of this beautiful resort.  There are many "resorts" up there.  Some not so exclusive but none-the-less beautiful.

So as luck would have it, just as I'm about to arrange for the trip to Savannah, I get a response from one of the many on-line-by-owner vacation spots in Arizona.  And the place (a villa in a resort) is in Carefree!  The agent politely told me the rental fee was $$$$ for one week in January plus the cleaning fee.  That's why I didn't think I had a chance of finding a place I could afford up there this time of year!  I politely emailed back and conceded that although their place was beautiful and this was prime snowbird vacation time and I appreciated it was well worth the price -- it was more than I was willing to pay.  Wouldn't you know I received an answer soon after from the agent.  She asked what I thought would be a reasonable price?

Now I am not a negotiator.  I never was comfortable haggling back and forth.  My husband does it all the time.  Some cultures expect it.  But for me it's awkward.  I never know how to start it much less end it.  Well this time I did!  I figured I had nothing to loose.  And that has to come from maturity -- the "hey, just go for it" must be because at my age why not?

After doing some homework:  making sure it indeed was a nice place; checking the availability (they had three weeks in January open); and, figuring out the best flight prices, and checking the "things to do" in the area I sent my rather audacious but respectful response. And this is what I wrote (see next episode):