Life in Geezerville: Laundry Edition

It's Labor Day, so why not talk about a job that never seems to be finished. I'm talking about laundry. Do you have an empty laundry basket? In my house, it seems there is always "one more thing" to wash. It's a never ending battle. In addition it's a battle I've been waging since I was old enough to help my mother with the laundry. It's definitely an unsung labor that gets little reward. No one ever thanks me for doing the laundry. I don't even thank me. It needs to be done, so it gets done. End of story.

Back in those old dark, pre-geezer days (my mother wasn't even a geezer), my job was to empty the hamper and sort the clothes into piles. There was a pile for whites, one for delicates, one for darks, one for heavy fabrics one for lightweight fabrics, etc. After I sorted the clothes into what I thought were the "right" piles my mother would check them. She would ask me what each pile represented be it white or dark etc. Then she would ask the rationale as to why I put a light blue shirt into the white pile, and finally she would agree or disagree, make changes and the task of loading the washing machine and completing 7 or more loads of clothes commenced. Back in those days, my mother did not have a dryer, so the clothes were hung on clotheslines in the backyard where they flapped in the breeze until they were dry (or it started to rain). We would diligently take the clothes off the lines, sort the plastic from the wooden clothespins in the clothespin bag and haul our laundry back into the house. That was the Monday ritual. She would do laundry at least 3 more times during the week. The Tuesday ritual was ironing the clothes, yet another unsung labor.

Fast forward to today. My mother taught me well. I can sort clothes till the cows come home. I know light from dark; thick from thin; delicate from heavy-duty...but alas I do not sort clothes. That's because I wash one load of clothes at a time. It's rare that I do more than one load of clothes per day. I used to sort clothes--but with all the camping  we did over the years it was just easier to dump everything into one BIG giant campground washing machine. That habit switched over to non-campground life and persists to this day. I'm sure my mother would not be happy with me--but she was a realist and my logic would have made sense to her. 

So today, on Labor Day, I labored with the laundry. I dumped my full basket of laundry into the washing machine, collected the hangars I needed, and started the machine. Half an hour later I dumped the clothes into the dryer. When the dryer bell rang, indicating the clothes were finished, I hung up my hanger items, and folded my clothes. The other DrC folded his clothes. I'm not a good wife. I may wash his clothes but I do not fold them, nor do I put his clothes away.

The laundry basket was empty for about 2 hours when it started to fill up again. It's a never ending battle with clean vs dirty. Dirty seems to be winning at my house. But I'm thankful I don't have the rest of the "stuff" to do that my mother had after the washing and drying was complete. There were no permanent press or "miracle" fabrics in the 50s. After washing seven or eight loads on Monday, she had to starch, sprinkle, iron, and put away those 7 or 8 loads. I have no idea what starch looks like and while I do have an iron, I use it more for sewing than for my clothes. I don't think I've sprinkled any clothes for decades. Have you?

Laundry and Labor Day seem to go together. It's the "labor" that the day celebrates...it's the labor that makes a house work. It's unsung labor. It's never ending labor. If you have a way to make it disappear let me know. So on Labor Day, I did the laundry. As well as have a nice dinner for friends. What did you do? There are other unsung labors such as gardening, cooking, vacuuming, dusting, mopping, etc that never seem to end.  The job of keeping a home is an unsung labor of love. I do most of those labors --sometimes reluctantly, but they get done. I'm sure you do them too. I'm not complaining. It's Labor Day--and household labor never seems to end. Remember, we're all this together.

Life in Geezerville: Time Edition

Last night I cooking a new-to-me recipe. I had looked at several recipes online -- but I needed more information. SO, I called my friend and asked if she had a recipe...and sure enough a few minutes later she shared her recipe. What a treat. I can search the net for hours or I can ask a friend...much more fun to ask a friend.

Now that we are geezers we have time. Before geezer-hood, we were working and did not have much extra time. What matters is how we make use of that time. Do we sit on our geezer-duffs? Or, do we do something productive with that time. 

As for me, I'd much rather call a friend than sit for hours scouring the internet for the perfect recipe. I'd much rather have a cuppa with a friend, than have a cuppa with my computer. I had a "career" and that meant I did not have much extra time. Now, I am retired...so I have time to talk to my friends; time to listen; time to crochet; time to volunteer; time--that blessed gift of time. 

So, my fellow geezers, how are you using your time? For me I want to spend my time with my friends, or volunteering, or trying to make my world a special place. I truly don't want to spend my time listening to the latest political ads. And, more importantly, I don't want to waste my time doing useless pursuits. I want to use my time wisely with folks I love. So I ask you again: How do you want to spend your time? Remember, we're all in this together. 

Dollies

 

I started to make dollies...and then I got carried away.

There are now over a dozen of them looking for a good home.

All seem to be well-behaved and quiet...

So, if you would like a dolly let me know and you might get one. 

They are fun little dollies who will make you smile.

Zuchhini Muffins

 

Yesterday my friend Judy gave me 2 huge zucchinis. Today, the other DrC processed them and I made 1 batch of zucchini muffins and froze enough zucchini for 3 more batches. That means I have some magical muffin makings in my freezer now. 

I use a recipe that I found online and then modified it a bit. To make these delicious zucchini muffins measure and combine14 oz of all purpose flour, 1 tablespoon of cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon baking soda and 1/2 teaspoon baking powder in a medium sized bowl. In a larger bowl add 3 large eggs, 14 oz of granulated sugar, 2 sticks of cooled melted butter and 2 cups of chopped zucchini.  Mix all the wet ingredients (sugar is considered a wet ingredient) together then add the dry ingredients and mix until combined. Generously spray 2 muffin pans with vegetable oil and divide the batter as evenly as possible into the muffin pans. 

You have a treat in store--2 dozen homemade muffins ready to eat or freeze. 

That's what I did today. Now you can do it too. 

Life in Geezerville: Hanging in There Edition

My last entry talked about all the ugly things that are happening, but the news is good this time. My friend who broke her pelvis is in a skilled nursing facility getting PT 3x a day and should be home on Sunday. My young friend is out of the ICU and on the mend. The other DrC is taking his medications and will see his doc on Thursday, and we're hoping for good news. As you can see we're hanging in there. It's important to hang in there.

In the meantime, the fawns in the backyard are getting bigger and their spots are fading a bit. That's always bittersweet for me. It's bitter, as the little ones are growing up and soon will become adults. It's sweet as I witnessed them growing up. This summer the deer have been camera shy. So I've taken a lot of pictures from my screened porch...but on Sunday I snapped a good one of my mama deer. She's beautiful standing in the aspens.

The bluebird blue skies are back. The air is clean and the aspens are tall and straight. All seems to be good in my little patch. I hope the same is happening for you. (Yes I know it's political season, and yes I do read the news, but NO I don't put any of that stuff on my blog. If you want to stay up to date, see other DrC's blog for all that kind of stuff.) In the meantime, remember, we're all in this together.

Life in Geezerville: Be Careful Out There

 This past week there have been 3 uglies that have happened. Since things "come in threes," I'm hoping that is all the bad news that I can get. My girlfriend of way too many years, fell and broke her pelvis; my 20 year old friend was in a pretty bad automobile accident breaking her mandible among other problems; the other DrC has an infection in the head wound he has had for a long time. None of these were foreseeable -- they just happened. They happened to older folks and younger folks. Ugly things happen...and because they do, please be careful "out there." 

Around your home, don't have loose floor mats in your house--they are tripping hazards. In your vehicle, drive defensively and alertly. As for an infection...I don't know what do say about that, but keep all wounds as clean as possible. I don't mean to harp on this topic...I just want all of us to be happy and safe and sound. Remember, we're all in this together.

State Fair

The WY State Fair is happening right now. My "kids" are participating and having a blast showing their animals and collecting recognition for their hard work...as well as ribbons and belts and other prizes. 

 Grand Champion Lamb

 Grand Champion Pig at the county fair and Champion of Champions at the State Fair

WOW...that is fantastic

Reserve Grand Champion  Pig

The Champion of Champion prize...that's some belt and buckle...

The kids work hard with their animals. Their parents work hard too. Kudos to all who participated in the local and state fair -- but bigger kudos for "my kids" who were absolutely wonderful. I'm so proud of them and blessed to have them in my life.

Life in Geezerville: Hobby Edition

 

I''m a geezer. I don't know when that happened but it did. Now that I'm here, what am I going to do with my time. I go shopping, I keep the house tidy, cook, do laundry--you know all those household chores that never go away, but I have time for a few hobbies too. The hobby that I've "practiced' all my life is crochet. I learned when I was about 7. I copied what my mother was doing, as I've been told...so I work in the typical "German" style but backwards. You read that right. I mirrored what my mother was doing, and she learned to crochet from her German mother. Maybe, she mirrored what her mother did, and I mirrored what she did...whatever the case, when I'm crocheting with a group of folks (and I do that every now and then) my process is different--but I end up with a product that looks the same. I learned a long time ago, there are many ways to peel an orange, the idea is to peel it. Same with crochet.

A few summers back I discovered the joy of making toys and giving them away. I've made lots and lots of piggies, kitties, sheep, hedgehogs, teddy bears, turtles, cars, trucks, airplanes, and more. Then I branched out to boxes, nesting boxes, flowers (like those above), etc. It's fun to see what will come out of my crochet hook.

Most recently I've started to crochet dolls. Little dolls less than 5 inches tall. They are fun to make and I find it amazing how the same pattern can create so much diversity. Sometimes the dollies are  a bit bigger...sometimes smaller...but all are cute and I'm sure some little girl (or maybe a geezer girl) will have fun playing with them

You might ask what is the purpose of making a dolly or a critter or a flower? The answer is easy. The process of crochet keeps my hands busy, my mind active, and sparks my creativity. I look at hundreds of pictures and read hundreds of patterns before I make up "my" pattern. I then take that 2 dimensional picture and create a 3 dimensional object and that object looks like the picture. There's a lot of "work" between picture and product. That has to be good for any geezer to do. My geezer friends who quilt are doing the same thing. Keeping mind and body active is important, and even more important in our geezer-years.The same with my geezer friends who paint (rocks or canvas), create string art, play the piano, write blogs, or do counted cross-stitch. These are important hobbies that keep geezers active, alert and happy. What is your hobby? Maybe you don't do any of the above, but you play golf, or swim, or run? Maybe you read or listen to books? Being actively engaged is the key. Staying active keeps the mind and body working better and longer. That's important.  Remember, we're all in this together.

(Courtesy of Sam, string artist)

Life in Geezerville: 4H Edition

Today I went to our county fair (the second county fair I've gone to this year) to see the lamb judging. Two of "my" kids were showing their lambs. These are NOT the typical lamb you see in a field, these are well groomed lambs with closed cropped wool and black feathered leggings. The kids have been working with their lambs all summer, teaching them manners. Some of the kids were very successful--others not so much. My kids did well in their division, with one winning grand champion and the other "tying" for grand, but the judge gave it to the other lamb. 

I love watching all the kids show their critters. It takes a lot of work to get untrained baby critters to show-worthy in a few short months. The kids have to feed and tend to their critter on a daily basis. They can't take time off for snow or sickness or the weekend. The critters need to be trained to walk by their child and follow some basic commands. That type of training cannot be done in a couple of weeks before the fair--it has to be done for months. Mom and dad give a big helping hand too, as it's a family affair getting the critters ready for fair. When fair arrives, the kids are cleaned up and shiny, just like their critters. Our county asks that the kids were clean blue jeans and a white shirt. While they can't wear cowboy hats, they can wear boots. One little girl had blue pinpoint lights randomly flashing on her boots--as far as I was concerned, they were the best boots EVER. I was fascinated with her colorful boots and maybe judge was too, as she won one of the prizes. 

When I taught a hundred years ago, the 4H kids always seemed to do "better" than the others. They knew how to work hard to reach a goal. They were "on top of things." The kids who did not have the 4H experience had to play catch up. The non-4H kids were usually city kids, while most of the 4H kids were country kids. The country kids knew what it was like to raise a critter from farm to market and the city kids did not have a clue. The 4H experience taught them what to do and when to do it. Skills that are needed throughout life. 4H might be for critters, but the critters include the kids.

As for me, I was the city kid. I never paid much attention to 4H or to raising livestock. I knew city ways well and living on a ranch or farm was not in my realm of experience. I knew how to take care of a parakeet and a cat. The thought of taking them to a "show" was not on the radar screen. Needless to say I did well as school, but I would have been more well-rounded with the 4H experience. That was then, this is now. 4H is a program I support with a full-heart. I'm sure there are other programs "out there" that work with kids to make them better people, and my hats go off to them too. It takes a lot of work to get an untrained "baby" (of any variety) to be a worthy individual. Remember, we're all in this together. 

Life in Geezerville: Reading Edition

 My whole life, I've been a reader. As a kid I read everything in sight including several thick dictionaries and even the encyclopedia. When magazines were delivered at home, I devoured them. I had a library card when I was 4 even though the "legal" age was 5. The librarian knew I could read and she made an exception for me. 

At 3 I taught myself to read by circling words I knew in a Life Magazine. My dad had already given me permission to write in the magazine, as long as I did not make a mess of it. I started very methodically--I circled all the words that I knew. Please don't ask me how I knew a word, but when I saw a word that was "mine" I circled it. My goal was to circle all the words in an article--then the magazine. If any of those old Life Magazines are still around, there would be pages of words circled in blue ink. Those were MY words.

Fast forward many years and my "discovery" of books on tape. Since I have always found it hard to read in a moving vehicle, reading in the car or truck, has never been an option. But, one day, a student of mine gave me a tape of the first volume of the Harry Potter series. WOW! I could listen to a book while driving or riding in a vehicle. What a treat. Soon we had lots of books on tape--they evolved to books on CD--and those have evolved to books on my phone. I love listening to stories.

I have many favorite authors and storytellers who can read to me to my heart's content. The man who read the Harry Potter books, Jim Dale, captured each character with a different voice and outlook, that makes simple reading of a book so much more enjoyable. Since Jim Dale, I've heard many fantastic readers. Lorelei King, Huge Fraser and Walt Guidell are just three who come to mind--but there are more. 

If you have a few minutes, download the free app for your phone from the public library and start borrowing books on tape (as they are still called). If you want to own some books, use an app like Chirp. You can also download Audible, available from Amazon (it might be available from other sources too). If the book is on "tape" you can hear books from any genre and age. I find it completely enjoyable and I hope you do too. Remember, we're all in this together.

Life in Geezerville: Home Edition

What is home? Is it a house? A place? A memory? Something you have? Something you want? A distant dream? Something you will never attain? 

For the dove in the picture, home is a safe place to raise her babies. She has chosen a quiet flowerpot on a front porch where she can hide from the "baddies out there" to hatch and raise a clutch of chicks.

For the deer in my backyard, home is a place away from hunters, speeding cars and noise. Home is a place to rear her fawns where the quaking aspens lull her offspring to sleep. A place where she was raised. She knows it's a good place for her fawns too.

It does not matter what home looks like. It can be a flowerpot, a backyard with trees, or a house. For some folks, it has wheels under it and roams the open road. 

Home can be a job with colleagues who have ideals like yours and where you feel like you are doing something useful. Home can be a country--where you know you are protected from harm.

When all is said and done, home is where your heart is. It is a familiar place where you feel safe and loved and cared for. It's friendly. You love your home because your home loves you back. So I ask a question? Where is your home? I know where mine is--with my loved ones, whether in my house in the woods or my house in the desert or in between. I'm safe there. I'm loved there. I give safety and love back too. Find your home and cherish it. Remember, we're all in this together.

Life in Geezerville: Pickleball Edition

Pickleball--it is certainly "the" rage for geezers right now. But, I found out something the other day, youngsters are playing it too. My friend said her granddaughter was on her high school Pickleball team. The game is spreading out to other age demographics and that must be a sign that the game is catching on. I wonder when the Olympics will recognize Pickleball as a "game."

As someone who suffers from lack of coordination, the lure of the Pickleball court does not call me. But, I'm definitely in the minority. Every morning, the parking lot at our local Pickleball court fills up with golf carts, electric bicycles, regular bicycles and even a few cars. Some folks even walk to the Pickleball courts. They come with paddle and pickleball, ready to compete. They play everyday, but not in the rain. They arrive at 8 and stay till noon. It must be fun, as a lot of folks are doing it. Also, our local courts are expanding--soon 8 more will be added to the playing field. That's a lot of Pickleball games for us geezers. Last month, there was even a Pickleball Tournament that brought in people from all over the western US. The game is popular.

My Pickleball friends, claim it's a lot of fun, is filled with lots of good exercise, and you don't even have to play well to enjoy the game because the ball is slow...in addition, it's a fun way to meet folks. I understand the last part of that reason, but the others, are not something I can do. For me, a slow ball is just as easy to miss as a fast ball. But, I digress, I'm not an athlete.

If you see a group of geezers playing a game with a holey ball, paddle and net, you are watching Pickleball in action. It might be a lot of fun, but alas it's not for me. My sports are travel, walking and sitting in a hot tub. What are you good at? Find your geezer sport and enjoy it. I've found mine! Remember, we're all in this together.

Meet the "Big Boys"

 

I love watching the wildlife in my backyard. This year we've had at least 3 but maybe as many as 5 fawns, a lot of does and this morning, I saw 3 nicely antlered stags. Now I'm watching them thru my screened porch, so it's hard to get clear pictures of them...but I was able to capture 2 of the 3.The third fellow was very illusive.

Each of these male mule deer had an 8 to 10 point rack of antlers...all in velvet and all very majestic. I watched them as long as I could, but the call of the wild was alive and well and they went to other pastures. In the meantime, I was mesmerized by them.

Life in Geezerville: Never Give Up Edition

 

There's this barn sitting in an open field that is NOT going to fall down any time soon. I've been tracking this barn for several years and while it looks rickety and broken down, it is still standing. I think of it as a beacon of hope. It's not giving up any time soon. 

This barn has survived countless storms, thousands of inches of snow (albeit not at the same time), critters, people, who knows what else, and it's still there. It is still nailing down a small piece of real estate with the best of them. All it does is stand in the field--baking in the sunshine or freezing in the snow. As the wood gets more weathered and wobbly; as the roof gets more stove-in, the barn stands. Is there a better testament to "hanging in there?"

There are times when I feel like this old barn. Some days I creak and limp and complain--then I think of this barn. If the barn is still standing--heck I can stand too. I think "be like the barn" and I'm whole and strong (at least on the inside) and I'm ready for another day. 

So, when you feel like your shingles are sliding off, your floorboards are rotten, your roof is caving in; when your windows are broken, and the dust is the only thing that is holding you up...think of the barn...be one with the barn. It's still there, standing in its glory. Remember, we're all in this together.

Life in Geezerville: Penney's Edition

 

The teeny-tiny town of Kemmerer, WY is not known for much, but it is where JCPenney's began. Given the size and location of the town, it's hard to imagine that anything like a Penney's could begin there, thrive (and now survive) for 122 years. They call it the "mother" store. And, you know what is really strange? I recognized the layout of the store. I knew the store, as I shopped in one exactly like it when I was a little girl.

I know the store was remodeled at some point in time, as it had modern hardwood flooring that did not creak, but the plan was simple and familiar: A first floor and a mezzanine. I went inside that store and I remembered the Penney's my mom would take us to when we were little. Back then, children's clothes were in the Mezzanine. I remembered, climbing up the long staircase. Yesterday, that staircase did not seem all that long. As you know, it's a matter of perspective.

Around the store there were reminders of Penney's past. Some of them I remembered too. I wonder if you do? Remember a cable system that went from a register to somewhere upstairs (kind of like the Mezzanine, but for workers). The clerk would put the receipt and cash in a canister and hook the canister to the cable where it would wend it way upstairs, was opened, and appropriate change was made. The canister was returned to the register and change was given to the customer. I remember thinking those canisters were magical as they always gave the right change. I had no idea where they went, until one day I visually followed the canister and saw a person open it up. It was not magic after all. 

Another display showed a red blazer with a P on the breast pocket. I remember a gentleman walking around the store wearing a similar red jacket. My mother said he was the "boss" and that we should not get in his way. Naturally, being a good little girl, I never got in his way. To tell the truth, he kind of scared me as he never smiled.

A beautiful portable Singer Sewing Machine complete with its carry box, sat atop a jeans display.

This sewing machine was a marvel in its day. One of the moms up the street from my childhood home, had that very machine. She said it belonged to her mother. Once in a while she let the little girls on the block use it to make doll clothes. I loved that little machine...and there it was. What a fun memory.

As a kid, I never saw anything as special as that pram, or the fancy luggage, but back in the day, these  were a few of the items sold at JCPenney. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit to the mother store. Another blast from the past, which sadly, I'm old enough to remember. I don't remember 122 years of history of the store, but I have a memory that goes back several decades. The modern Penney's does not look anything like this little store, and something in me, harks back to this place. It's completely analog. It's mechanical. What you see, is what you get. Everything in that original store was Made in the USA--what a concept. I know we cannot go back to those simpler times, but once in a while we can visit them, by taking a walk down Memory Lane. Yesterday,  I took a walk down that time-worn street, and had a good time. Maybe you can take a walk down that street soon and enjoy it too. Remember, we're all in this together. 

Big Boy

 

Today we had a bit of fun. No doctor appointments. No PT. We actually took a day away from "it all." We saw a steam train. Not just any steam train but the largest steam engine ever built. The train is lovingly called "Big Boy" because he's reallllllly big. 

If you are a train buff, you will know what a 4-8-8-4 locomotive is. If that looks like a not-so-random grouping of numbers it stands for the number of wheels under this train--4 smaller ones, then 2 sets of 8 68 inch wheels, then 4 smaller ones. These big wheels propel the train 20 feet per revolution. Smaller wheels cannot go that far. In 1941 when this 4014 was built, it was THE long haul freighter through the Rocky Mountains.

If you stretch this picture, under the big 4014, it says 4-8-8-4-1-68. The 1-68 says the big wheels have a 68 inch diameter.

These fellows are greasing the huge wheels. Looking at the size of the men, gives you an idea how big the wheels are. You can also see all the pipes and pistons that make this train travel up and down the roadway. There is nothing small about this train.

 20 "Big Boy" locomotives were built in the early 1940s to get over the Rockies safely and quickly. They were numbered 4000 to 4019...this train is 4014. For twenty years, these big engines hauled freight (not passengers) thru the mountainous terrain. By 1961, new diesel technology made these behemoths obsolete. The huge steam engines were replaced. While diesel engines are not nearly as lovely and mechanical and brute-force beautiful as these locos, they are a bit more versatile. 

The era of the Big Boy ended. They were retired and sent to become museum pieces throughout the country. Then about 10 years ago, Union Pacific decided to restore one of these mechanical beasts. It took several years as many of the parts had to manufactured from scratch. The goal was to have Big Boy ready for the 150th anniversary of the first Transcontinental Railway when the Golden Spike was hammered into the track that joined the railway from east to west at Promontory Point UT. That was in 2019. At that time, we went on a 3 day road trip following Big Boy. Today we took a day trip to see the train in Kemmerer, WY.

Nothing about Big Boy is small. Even the nuts and bolts that hold it together are BIG. When the train starts to move, the wheels slowly turn as the whistle blows so loud you can feel it in your bones.

If you want to see a "blast from the past" go to the Union Pacific website to find out when Big Boy might be near your location. It's definitely worth your time to see this wonderful mechanical monster.

If you stretch out this picture, you'll see "Big Boy" written in chalk on the front of the engine.

Life in Geezerville: Medicare Edition

Courtesy of GossipGenie.Com

We are geezers. Oftentimes, we're proud to be geezers--maybe even happy to be geezers. Heck, we have LOTS of experience...and usually that experience is in our favor. Then there is Medicare. I swear, Medicare is one of the most complicated things out there. I remember looking at Medicare plans when I retired decades years ago. I went to a seminar at my University, and found out some answers and chose a plan. I must have chosen wisely as I've been pleased with the coverage I have.

BUT, nowadays, it seems there are more "plans" out there and they are NOT CREATED EQUAL. Yes, you are reading that right. A friend of mine just retired--she thought she had read all that she needed to know. She chose a Medicare plan and thought she would start collecting Social Security and Medicare benefits the day she turned 65. She turned 65 and nothing happened. She went to her local Social Security office to find out why and received the not so royal runaround. Eight months after her 65th birthday Social Security and Medicare finally "kicked" in and she's now receiving benefits. She asked if there was going to be any compensation for the 8 month delay and the answer was no. She was happy something was finally happening but not clear on the details. That's when we discovered that her plan was vastly different from my plan.

She asked me why that was the case and frankly I did not know. I know that my sister has different Medicare benefits from me--and she has a co-pay. Do a search for Medicare plans and what seems like a million websites appear. You get answers to your questions and you get brain fog trying to understand the nuances. There are webinars on Medicare topics you did not even know existed. Books (real books, not online ones) that tell you how to not  make Medicare mistakes. You can watch YouTube videos that show you the ins and outs of Medicare (and we all know how reliable You Tube is for answering Medicare questions?) You can access a myriad of "Medicare Cheat Sheets" to help you compare and contrast plans. You can find how much you'll pay for Medicare; what benefits you will receive; and by the end of the search you might be able to figure out the best Medicare package for you. It sounds so easy!

I'm writing this because another friend just came home from a 20 day hospital stay. After she came home we talked a long time and she said "make sure you know about your Medicare plan." I asked her why and she said "because I was refused some services because I did not have the right plan for the hospital I was in and I had to pay out of pocket for services that other folks with the "right plan" were getting for "free." 

Just a friendly reminder. Know your Medicare plan. Every year when you get  the"new" Medicare book, read it carefully to see what you are getting and what you are not getting. Figure out if your local medical community is still part of the plan. It's not easy, but it's important. Remember, we're all in this together. 

Life in Geezerville: Friends Edition

Yesterday I received a call from Guam. I lived in Guam eons ago and I still have a friend who lives there. We email each other daily. Since we cannot hop in our cars to visit each other we've done the next best thing. I've taken cruises that stopped on Guam, and she's flown to the US mainland. What we do best is write each other every day. I start my day with a good morning email to her--and she does the same. Throughout the day, we send each other messages -- not long messages -- sometimes just a funny or two -- sometimes a quiz. It's a comfortable routine of 2 friends keeping in touch even though there are thousands of miles of ocean between us. Funny thing is, when I say "good morning" to her, she's already in bed. When it's 6 AM at my home, it's 11 PM on Guam. There's a 17 hour time gap between us. There's only a small window of time when both of us are awake at the same time. This makes calling difficult and why email and texting are so important.

Then about 2 months ago, I stopped getting emails. Between now and then, I tried to call her and discovered that the numbers I had for her and her son did not work. (BTW this is not unusual for Guam, as the phone system is unreliable.) I did the next best thing I sent her a snail mail letter with a crocheted flower bouquet (you know me). I did not hear from her. I scoured the online newspaper, the Pacific Daily News (PDN) and did not see any news about her...that was good. Since she's a geezer, like me, I was getting more worried that something horrible had happened. I did not know how to help her from my location, but I needed to know what was going on.

Then something special happened. I'm checking out at the grocery store and my phone rings. It's says GUAM on the screen...what's going on? You know that feeling you get when you receive a call in the middle of the night that you KNOW is bad news...well I had that feeling. It's my friend's son calling me.  I said hello...how is your mom as fast as I could. And he says to me "She wants to talk to you!" Oh Glorious Day! My friend was alive and she wanted to talk to me. I told my husband to pay the checker and I talked to my friend for a wonderful 18 minutes and 48 seconds. I'm smiling and crying at the same time. We did a quick catch-up; she said she was tired and we said we would call each other next week.

The moral of the story...stay in touch with your friends. They are part of the fabric of your lives. They are most special people. You love them and they love you. It does not matter if they are across the street or across the dateline on a tiny 212 square mile speck of an island 13 degrees north of the equator.  Call them, write to them, visit them! My friend called me and we talked. What a day! Remember, we're all in this together. 

Life in Geezerville: Aster Edition

 The asters started to bloom. I always watch for them. There's an old wife's tale up here in the Rockies, that  asters predict the beginning of autumn. The tale says "Once you see the asters, there's 8 more weeks of summer." 

To that end, I've been watching the wild asters for over 3 decades and they have been a good indicator for arrival of fall. The earliest I've seen the asters bloom is June 15 and yep---we had an early fall. Today I saw the asters growing in the understory of the forest. I look for them everyday and I was thinking that it's about time for them to show their pretty faces. Today is July 14 and I saw the first of the asters. IF the asters can predict anything, then we can expect fall to arrive about September 14. That's late for fall in the high country. BUT, if my asters are telling the truth... ... ...watch this space for the arrival of fall.

That brings me to Old Wife's Tales. Are they real? Do they predict what might happen? I'm guessing that an old wife's tale is a "real thing." They were "created" as it were, by women (and men) who lived on the land and paid attention to it. Back in the day, long before cell phones, the internet, meteorologists, scientists, the 24 hour news cycle and such things, farmers paid attention to the land and the weather and the gifts they provided. They kept calendars of when each type of flower bloomed, when critters gave birth, what critters ate, when birds arrived in the spring and when they flew away in the fall. Putting 2 and 2 together, the asters told the story of the growing season. If there are 8 weeks left of summer, then it's time to think about getting ready for the fall. Here we have a 60 day growing season and getting ready for the fall is important. SO, the asters started to bloom today. Sadly the summer will end in 8 weeks. It's time to get supplies for the fall and the winter. It's time to think of rain and snow. It's time to think about "snow birding" to warmer winter climes. 

But I digress. We still have 8 glorious weeks of summer. Sunshine and warmth; flowers and trees; calves and fawns. The beat goes on. In this political season the beat goes on too. I do not write a political blog, but I don't live in isolation. For information about politics, please go to the other DrCs blog. In this one I'm going to talk about fawns and flowers. Remember, we're all in this together.

Life in Geezerville: Mama and her Twins Edition

 

This summer we have a set of twins in the aspens and are they fun to watch. The two little fellows jump and leap and butt each other. They love to run figure eights between the park bench and an aspen. In fact they have created a little trough between the bench and the tree they have played so hard. 

The little spotted fellows are full of energy and their mom is too. She has the task of keeping them in line. She's very subtle with her manner, but the little guys know when they've gone over the line. 

This morning the twins were running their figure eights with particularly high jumps and leaps. She was watching them ever so closely -- after about 5 laps around the track, she put up her front left leg and the bouncing STOPPED just like that. I don't know what raising her leg meant, but the twins knew they had better stop. A couple of seconds later, she gathers them up and licks them. Reluctantly they let her lick them. But, not more than a minute into a licking, they grew restless, and since they were so close to each other, they started  butting heads. This time, she put down her head at "fawn level" and the butting stopped mid-butt. 

She's a good mom. She trying to teach her kids lessons. She does not have any words or sounds. She has relatively small head, foot and leg movements that communicate to her offspring that it's time to stop that and move on to something else. 

She has a lot to teach these bouncing babies. They have to learn how to find food, how to protect themselves from predators, how to stay safe from cars and people..and so much more. She has 4 months to teach them, and then they are on their own. 

It's high drama in the aspens. Mama lovingly guides her babies with nudges and actions and they KNOW they need to heed her lessons. The circle of life continues. It's not about politics. It's not about getting ahead with the best house or car. It's about living in harmony in the forest. So in this heated political season I'm watching my critters and trying to learn from them. Remember, we're all in this together.

Life in Geezerville: Fluff Edition

I'm the one on the left--baby fat and all---and my still thin sister

You know, when babies are born they are chubby little rascals? We call that baby chubby and everyone thinks it's cute. So, I challenge you, what do we call geezers who have become chubby larger rascals? There’s not a good name. You don’t say “see that fat guy over there”… or “gees, she’s gained weight” ? None of those are particularly polite. Therefore, I’ve decided to call my extra poundage FLUFF. I’m not fat, I have geezer fluff—it’s the equivalent of baby fat—but, it comes later in life and sadly, it does not go away like baby fat. You know you have a case of geezer fluff if the height-weight charts say you should be 7 feet 3 inches tall for your weight but you are only 5 feet 2 inches tall. 

 

I was “that” baby who was short and chubby. I always wore the x-size clothes. I remember trying on a 6x dress that was too big for me and my mother said not to worry as I would grow into it. Then one day, when no one was looking, the baby fat melted away. I remember thinking I had a waist. I had never had a waist before but now I had one. What a treat! I was about six years old when that happened. Funny thing is, I never gained weight after that. Once I hit my current height, I weighed just about the same for 30+ years. Then…the dreaded fluff started. 

 

At first, the fluff was not all that bad. But that changed when a kind doc put me on prednisone for something or other. I was CONSTANTLY hungry for the full 21 days I was on that dratted medicine and I gained some fluff. Then, I was put on prednisone again and one more time because the condition would not clear up. A total of 63 days on prednisone put the fluff on…and it stayed and stayed and stayed. That’s my story as to why I have fluff.

 

I went to the doc who gave me the horrendous prednisone and she said, in a very nice way, that prednisone weight has 2 consequences…it comes off quickly or it stays forever…then she dropped the other shoe…I seemed to have the type that stayed forever. DARN.

 

Now I’m fluffy. I refuse to say that awful F*T word. I refuse to call anyone else that awful F*T word too. I don’t know why my friends and neighbors are fluffy, but I know it happens. I had another doc say “well at your age…” those are 4 words that all of us geezers hate to hear. We know that the next part of the phrase is something like “…you can expect to be overweight” or “you can expect to have (fill in the blank).” When a doctor starts that phrase I say “Don't be so smug. Just you wait, this will happen to YOU to!”

 

The next time you see a geezer who should be 7 foot 3 inches tall, but sadly is shorter, know that you have something in common with each other. You share geezer fluff. Then, if that fluffy geezer is your friend, celebrate with an ice cream sundae. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it. Remember, we’re all in this together. 

Life in Geezerville: Beginnings Edition

Many, many moons ago, on this date, the other DrC and I went on our first date. It was to the local fireworks display. Since then, we've tried to see fireworks on July 4th. Most years we go to an actual show--and that show has been literally all over the world. One time we were on a Danube River cruise and the riverboat staff had an American Independence Day celebration with sparklers--it was the closest we could get to fireworks that year.

Other times, we've seen the displays at Disneyworld, along the Mississippi River, in Washington, DC, Dallas--you name it, we've been to the July 4 fireworks. Recently, we've enjoyed the display put on in Idaho Falls. The Melaleuca company sponsors the display and it's fantastic. It is touted as the largest display west of the Mississippi, and I believe them, as we've seen many different displays and none compare to the show that Idaho Falls puts on.

This year, we did not go to the display first hand, but we did the next best thing. I figured out how to live-stream the display from my iPad to our large screen TV. It was perfect. We sat in the comfort of our living room, looked as the 18,000 plus "shells" burst across the Idaho Falls sky and fall into the Snake River. The starbursts were great, the booms and  pops were loud, and the music was fun. We did not have to deal with the crowds, nor drive the 190 miles to and from Idaho Falls. Not dealing with the traffic, might have made it even better than being there in person.

Who knew where that date would lead? 3 years later we were married and we have been very happy. July 4 is the beginning of our wonderful country and "us."  What are your beginnings? When was your first date? Have you celebrated that date year after year? My parents always celebrated the anniversary of their first date with a fancy dinner in a French restaurant...so I guess it was in my DNA to follow tradition. Is it in your DNA? Whatever you did on your first date, it must have been special as you are still together. Remember, we're in this together. 

It's Independence Day 248

 

Life in Geezerville: Pre-Independence Day Edition

 

The folks in Geezerville North are busy today. They are decorating their RVs with red, white and blue bunting. The golf carts are getting fancied up with patriotic symbols too. The poor dogs are begging not to be dressed up in Uncle Sam costumes. The kids are hoping they will catch some candy that will be tossed from the golf carts. Everything is in a red, white and blue swirl. The patriotism is catching too as folks who have not decorated their homes or RVs or golf carts are thinking what they can do at the last minute.

Our wonderful hardware store is out of bunting. Up till last week, there were bolts of red-white-blue cloth, but they are gone. I bet they'll sell you some RWB paint though (but, I've not checked).

Tomorrow the golf carts will parade around the RV park about 930. I've had a preliminary look at a couple of them. I can only imagine what 50 or more golf carts will look like. Later on, in town, there will be a "regular" parade with cowboys and cowgirls on their horses, the only fire engine will be all shined up and decorated, as will tractors and cultivators. There will be floats decorated by our kids, 4H critters will be led by their persons, strutting their stuff, and so much more. It is an old-fashioned Independence Day parade. This is a big parade for a very small town. Don't expect anything commercial or posh like the Rose Bowl Parade. Our 4th of July Main Street Parade and Extravaganza is simple with folks celebrating our independence from England 248 years ago. Happy Birthday America. Tomorrow night we'll have fireworks to cap off the events of the day. 

I hope you have a wonderful old-fashioned Independence Day Parade to go to too. I hope you get to see fireworks (or drone shows) tomorrow night. What you need to do now is get ready for the holiday. Happy Independence Day! Remember, we're all in this together.

Hawk

This morning, as I was getting ready to have coffee on the porch, this fellow greets me with a low KEH. I said hello to him, took his picture, then he spread his great wings, and quietly left the porch. 

To give you an idea of his size, the upright he is standing on is 17 inches tall. He is just a wee bit taller than the upright. I think he's a Cooper's Hawk. Sharp Shinned Hawks look very similar to Cooper's Hawks, but are a bit smaller and their tails are squared off instead of slightly rounded. I know it is not a red-tailed hawk, but it could be another variety. Please let me know what you think he is. He's a very pretty bird and I hope he comes back.