Map to Crazy

Continuing this driving thing for just a minute.....

Living in the Midwest is nice from a driving around town perspective. You can jump in your car and it takes five minutes to reach most everywhere, streets are laid out in the grid system, and you aren't accosted at every intersection by aggressive drivers who use stop signs as a suggestion, not a law. Living in a smallish Midwestern town means congestion involves sitting in traffic an extra ten minutes while a college basketball games lets out. Not a big deal. Here in the South, close to Miami, it's a whole other ballgame.

The map to the right is a typical traffic day around our temporary winter residence. Red lines, yellow lines, and red dots. The red dots are the worst. Cars standing still for blocks. Basically a two-car wide, several mile long parking lot. As in I have witnessed people getting out of their cars and running items back to cars behind them. I have to assume these are people they know and it involves giving them food to sustain them through their errands. Woe to the driver who decides to veer out of the traffic flow and through a drive-thru. And heaven forbid you have a medical emergency.

Mr Y, and I are learning lessons daily about when to go out, where to go, and taking our patience temperature before heading out. The evening we decided to travel seven miles to a large department store at five in the evening (I know, does the term "rush hour" mean nothing?) and it took us 2 HOURS to get there is also when we decided we either need to pack snacks or go at five in the morning and sleep in the parking lot before opening time. I have witnessed multiple "J" turns in the middle of traffic downtown, an elderly driver with a NY license plate gently sideswipe a landscaping pickup (and neither one stopped to access damage!), and more people ignoring "Don't Block the Intersection" signs than I can count. Two drivers have risked oncoming traffic to pass a line of cars, get to the front of that two lane traffic and then make a right turn across those lanes. It is mind boggling.

Fortunately we are staying in a building where we can walk to the grocery store, take a trolley to downtown, get to a hospital straight up the street if need be, and quickly navigate back streets to the home of the grand baby and his family. Otherwise you would find me sitting in an apartment watching the traffic whiz, and I do mean whiz, by for two months and that would certainly be a......

Map to crazy!

The Driver and The Passenger

A few weeks ago Mr. Y. and I started a car journey to Florida. The 1,500 mile trip was planned as a five day, four night slow motion meander as opposed to our normal "hair on fire shoot us out of a cannon and hope we land close to our destination" adventure. This trip was meant to be enjoyed.

As I was driving out of our Kansas driveway......oops, stop right there.  I am rarely (never) in the drivers seat on these marathon drives. I am a good driver, an attentive driver, even a cautious driver but I am not The Driver. I am The Passenger. And there is a big distinction in these positions.

I, as The Passenger, am the one who handles a variety of tasks from the right hand seat with the most important being navigation. Despite having a built in system in our car I like to use the iPad. It lets me input destinations while the car is moving unlike the car navigation which requires the car to be in Park. I can increase and decrease the size of my maps with the flick of my fingers, look ahead for traffic congestion, and easily estimate the miles left to go and our arrival time. I like knowing where we are at all times and sharing that information with The Driver. He drives us safely to the destination, I direct us to the right destination.

As for the other tasks, well, they are endless. The car has to be organized. The purse, snack bag, and entertainment tote within easy reach behind The Driver's seat. Pencils and pens can be grabbed, aspirin dispensed, magazines and newspapers read out loud, beef jerky (not mine, The Driver's) handed out, kleenex provided, and chocolate shared (mine, reluctantly) at a moments notice. I also deliver trip narration by looking up interesting tidbits along our route and sharing them, take pictures of bridges and landscape, critique the driving conditions and other drivers, and occasionally inhale sharply when a semi decides to use our lane while we are still in it. Should reading texts and e-mails become necessary interpretive readings are given. I give nice shoulder rubs, refresh water mugs, exchange The Driver's sunglasses for regular glasses, and manage the radio, audio book, and climate controls. It's my job to keep The Driver awake, alert, entertained and on point. 

The day we left for our trip I was driving because Mr. Y had some business phone calls to take and make. Normally he would do this while driving, using earbuds to keep his hands free, but since these particular calls were more complex in nature I agreed to switch seats. And that worked well until it didn't.

Once the business calls were completed, somewhere around Mile 350, the passenger side of the car became very, very quiet. Sleep quiet. Nap quiet. Nowhere in The Passenger duty description does napping come up. As Mr Y. dozed I drove on down the highway in the stillness knowing that once he was rested Mr. Y would once again assume the driving duties and I would be the passenger. An enjoyable journey was only a few more mile markers away.

Christmas Decor. Or Not.

We are well into 2016 and I am still processing how poorly I handled the decor part of our 2015 Christmas.  The celebration took place but I am still a little bothered by how unenthusiastic I was leading up to the merry part of the season.

Maybe it was observing and helping my sister prepare to be a part of our small hometown Christmas home tour that started my jolly holly ball rolling downhill.  Her garlands and boughs and Santa's and nativity sets and wreaths and trees and more trees and candles and (.....well, you get the picture) had to be placed well in advance of the tour that took place on December 5th. That meant we observed Thanksgiving at her house sitting under an upside down Christmas tree suspended over the dining room table (who DOES that!?) and being thankful we would not be around for the un-decorating in January.

When I returned home I briefly considered not decorating for Christmas. I came up with several good reasons to justify it. It's just the two of us, we don't really entertain, there's no good place for a tree, two of the three kids wouldn't even be here, we will be leaving for Florida in early January, the decorations I don't drag out of the garage I don't have to drag back into the garage. I was prepared to go minimal. Very minimal. Basically a poinsettia. Then a decision was made for part of my extended family to celebrate Christmas at our house. Namely my sister's family. Yes, the same sister of the extravagantly decorated Christmas tour house. Logistics dictated our home would be the better one for this year's celebration than the one screaming 'Tis the Season!

So, the shelf decorations came out of the garage, shrubs right outside doors and windows were lit up so that if you didn't look too closely you might think they were inside, three beautiful, fresh wreaths were purchased on Christmas Eve (they were running a procrastinator's special - $1.50 each!), and a poinsettia rounded out the decor. My sister assured me I didn't need to run out and purchase a tree since we were doing this so last minute. All was well. Until you want the picture perfect place to put gifts. Like under a lovely, decorated Christmas tree.

That explains the picture. While Mr. Y and I were in his home office celebrating Christmas with one son's family in a wireless way (thank goodness for Facetime), my sister and her family were plugging in my floor lamp and quickly pulling together beads and a topper to create a Christmas tree their way. It had a light, plenty of space underneath for packages, and with presents thrown around the base.......well, it still wasn't Pinterest worthy but it sufficed. (I recreated the gifts since no one bothered to take a picture at the time - it actually looked much better.)

This year I will rethink the Christmas decor. Obviously more effort needs to be made. I'm posting this to remind myself in eleven months to get a green light bulb for that floor lamp, and some tinsel to wrap on the pole, and for goodness sake it sure could use a tree skirt!

The Year of Recovery

Wow! That was some head cold. You take a little night time cold medicine in 2014 and wake up in 2016. What happened to 2015? Was it a year to just skip?  Maybe. Maybe not.

Leading up to the beginning of 2015 Mr Y. and I had decided to designate it as the Year of Recovery. The idea was we would use 2015 to recover from a couple of years of fast living in New York City, re-establish ourselves back into our smaller midwestern town, and get an idea of how we wanted the post retirement years to play out. Life has a way of throwing in an very different definition of a year of recovery.

It turned out our Year of Recovery would be from a variety of life events we could never have anticipated or dreamed up had we wished to. I eventually recovered from a couple of raging head colds in early 2015. Mr Y. started an amazing recovery from an April heart attack right after a quick stent was placed. Needless to say, the rest of the ailments were secondary. But every day we can tell our bodies are succumbing to the aging process. Some of them we can recover from, some we will deal with on an ongoing basis. By that definition every year from here on out is going to be a Year of Recovery.

We happily recovered from the shock of learning in August that we will be second time grandparents in February. We recovered from jet lag after a lovely trip to the Alaska home of a classmate this summer. The kinks in my back worked themselves out after moving a parent from her residence of 57 years to a spiffy apartment, even though the recovery took a couple of weeks longer than it would have even a couple of years ago. We recovered from the sticker shock of how much it would take to have someone else do a little landscaping for us, but that was probably nothing compared to the chiropractor bills had we elected to do it ourselves. We did end up recovering and re-establishing friendships that had been on a two year hiatus and we are working out a post retirement lifestyle that suits us.

We haven't decided a theme for the year 2016. After last year it seems like tempting fate to try and control what the year might be like. Whatever the year brings we will work on having healthy hearts, happy hearts, grateful hearts, and peaceful hearts.

Maybe we will just call it The Year of Unanticipated Happenings.

Out With A Whimper

Looking blearily through my over-the-counter drug induced haze I realize I am seeing the tail end of another year. My 2014 body arrived in good health and is exiting with a nasty head cold.

The first indication of doom is a little niggle at the back of the throat on Christmas Day. My sister encouraged me to take zinc tablets. "It will reduce the severity and make whatever it is you have last a shorter time," she declared.  She works in the local pharmacy so it must be true. Now I think it is not. I wanted a miracle cure, not a degree of harshness. I wanted to NOT be getting a cold.

I want to not run across the room hoping my dripping nose will hold on until I can reach that lotion laden tissue. I want to not hold my head when I feel a cough coming on that will make my head ache and my stomach muscles contract. I want to not feel like I can't keep my eyes open so that I can read my book or watch TV. It's only fair that I should be able to distract myself from this crummy malady isn't it?

Looking on the bright side. It is only 12 degrees outside, I do have a fireplace, and my subscription to Netflix can be put to good use. I don't have any social commitments (well, except for lunch today with a good friend I haven't seen in years. She is sympathetic when I postpone, she suffered through her own version of this last week). My tea supply is in good shape as well as chocolate/ginger bars. I don't have to cook, there are lots of eating options nearby and I have a husband willing (eager?) to leave my sniffling side to run those errands. Funny how that works.

And then there is always the motivation to get better. My hair dresser just called to confirm my appointment for cut and color later in the week. Oh yes ma'am, I will absolutely be there. I may be ailing but I am not dead. I would never go to my colorist with a fever but Kleenex, cough drops, and day-time cold medicine will travel.

I am not one to blow horns, drink champagne, and participate in raucous revelry on New Year's Eve anyway but tonight I will only be blowing my nose, toasting with hot chicken broth, and shuffling back to bed around 10pm. Someone else will have to usher in 2015. I'll catch up around Jan 3rd.

The Lovely Lady in Pink

Red and blue were the accessory colors I chose for my wedding. Being married in January of the Bicentennial year simply demanded I be patriotic in my choices. My future mother-in-law, J., chose to wear pale pink. She simply could not have picked another color. It was so her. 

I don't remember exactly when J. started her passion for all shades pink but when she committed she committed fully. Bathroom towels, picture frames, rugs, blankets, pillows, planters, all sorts of decor were purchased in mauve, raspberry, light pink, and dark pink. Toothbrushes, hair brushes, dishes, glasses, and lamps. Green was her accent color, but pink was her primary. It could have been so Pepto Bismol but she would insert just enough to make it sweetly feminine but not saccharin. A perfect balance.

She also balanced her life as a mother, a career woman, a homemaker, and an artist. I still use her recipes for homemade ice cream and Company Chicken. Deciding that stained glass was a medium she might enjoy she enrolled in a class and ended up designing a beautiful window for a consignment job. Naturally the design incorporated pink roses. Her watercolors of prairie lands and wildflower fields were framed with love and distributed to family members. Some were sold to admirers of her work. She took aerobics classes with me and remembered the exercise dance routine we performed to the song MacArthur Park for years after the classes disbanded.  She enjoyed music, embraced new technology, loved a good laugh (many times at her own expense), and adored having her family around her. 

Even though my marriage to her son did not last, our friendship endured. I would soon forgo introducing her as my ex mother-in-law and simply say she was a friend. She was always there for me to talk to, preferably while soaking in her hot tub on a cold, snowy night with Amaretto Sours in hand. We went to movies together, ate out, commiserated about our jobs, and, awkwardly enough, talked about relationships after her marriage ended a year later than mine. When she was able to make a long desired move to the warm climate of Florida and to be near her oldest daughter she asked if I would drive her down so that she would have her vehicle. I don't remember what we talked about during that three day trip but I'm fairly certain it was how she was going to decorate her new condo, using various shades of pink.

Over the years we kept in touch though not as much as we would have liked. I visited her in Florida once and we exchanged phone calls occasionally. I was so happy to be back in the Midwest because she had recently moved back here too so she could be in managed care. There would be an opportunity to reconnect. 

Sadly, that was not to be. J. passed away this morning after a brief illness. We will celebrate her full life with a gathering of family and friends in a couple of weeks. 

I need to go shopping for something to wear, preferably in a shade of pink.

If I Had Known Then......

Random thoughts on turning sixty today.

Sixty years ago the supermodel Christy Brinkley and I were born. And there the similarity ends. Well no, wait a minute. In an interview earlier this year she conceded as she gingerly rose from a couch and stretched back and forth, "I'm greasing the joints, trying to get them going....I do feel old when my hips act up!" Now she is talking my language.

Had this younger version of me known then what I know now I would have followed up my helping of birthday cake and punch with a chaser of bran, fish, ginkgo biloba, and green tea. Instead of playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey my group of friends would have done some yoga. At that age (about nine or ten based on the candles) standing on our heads would have been easy. When we went outside to play Tag we would have slathered on zinc oxide ointment instead of the baby oil we would use for years to encourage tanning. I would have told her that having a group of friends around to celebrate birthdays is going to be one of the best things about growing older.

These days there are limitations on the amount of food I want to ingest at one sitting, knowing I don't want to be miserable for hours after a meal. I hesitate more before stepping off a curb, knowing I don't want to be laid up for weeks with an injury. I want a good seven to eight hours of sleep every night, knowing less will make me cranky for a good twenty four hours. Clothes shopping takes less time these days, knowing current styles aren't for my body shape so why agonize? Sunday evening has become my favorite time of the week, knowing a little grandson and his family will be popping in for a Facetime visit.

Now, if my 80 (90?) year old self could just come give my sixty year old self some insights into the next twenty years that would be a very nice birthday present indeed.