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...