Category: Rambling Thursday

Suddenly popular!

Not too cute to wear a mask! Proudly sporting a cloth face covering made by Maru, a cherished reader who is a Stage IV cancer survivor and fellow graduate of the Taxol School of Hard Knocks.

New Friends

In spite of social distancing, I’m suddenly popular. I’m not sure God understood me when I said doing my best blind hermit imitation, “A visitor’s all I ask. A temporary companion to help me pass a few short hours in my lonely life.”

Thoughtful folks from all over the country are calling me day and night … about my health care options. I will turn 65 in September, so it’s all about Medicare supplements, but still, it’s the thought that counts.

I did sign up for Medicare and got a message it was approved. I am not drawing Social Security yet, so I assume the next step will be setting up some sort of process for paying monthly premiums. As for supplements, Dale is retired military, so we have Tricare for Life as our secondary.

This might be a good time to whisper a sweet nothing in his ear, “Thank you for your service.”

My other new friends are the Biden people. I donated $100 to his campaign, and I got a personal email thanking me for my contribution! He said, “We will send a lot of messages to you, Donna, because you are our lifeblood. You kept the lights on when people swore we were about to pack up and go home.”

They like me, they really like me!

While I don’t look forward to lots of emails, I officially welcome them to bombard my inbox if that’s what it takes. Just doing my part for America.

Escape fiction

Bored? Need a good book? I just finished Three Hours in Paris by Cara Black. The setting is World War II. An American woman, who is also a sharpshooter, is in the United Kingdom with her British husband, and she is recruited for a secret mission to assassinate Hitler. Things go wrong, her handlers in the UK have abandoned her and she’s on her own in Paris trying to survive as Nazis hunt her down.

This is what they mean by escape fiction! I usually don’t like WWII books, but I couldn’t put it down.  

retirement marches on

All in all, the virus sucks, but even when the shit hits the fan, I believe it’s possible to stay safe, busy, happy and fulfilled.

I review my retirement cheat sheet daily:

  • Play golf
  • Practice golf
  • Cook
  • Arts & crafts
  • Walk
  • Write
  • Housework
  • Home maintenance & repair
  • Weights
  • Read
  • Brush the kitty
  • Stretch
  • Swim
  • Tend my cannabis garden

It’s a busy day, and before you know it, it’s happy hour.

Mandatory masks

California went to mandatory masks indoors and where you can’t maintain social distancing. I love it. Makes most activities safer for everyone. We went to the farmer’s market and saw a few people without masks. I saw one woman, all dolled up and maskless.

Dale: What’s her excuse?

Me: She’s too cute to wear a mask.

Anyway, Dale and I agreed we can’t let it piss us off when we see selfish people violating the mandates designed to protect us. No muttering, just keep moving and stay six feet away.

Dale needs to make a trip to the hardware store, but the last time he went he said no one was wearing mask. No one. That was before the new requirements. But still, it makes him nervous … he said it was no county for old masks. I said it was no county for old men, and we both laughed.

The Last Argument

A coyote snoozing by the backyard spa.
Our coyote friend on the move after he heard me open the door.

Suburban coyote

As I was cleaning up cat barf this morning, I happened to look out the back window, only to see a coyote snoozing by the spa. I can’t believe my furry little puker missed that one, as he sat staring out the front window, desperately seeking squirrel activity.

I took a picture through the window and watched him awhile. I figured he would just move along at some point, but Dale said sometimes they can’t get out. I gingerly propped the gate open and came back in the house.

Then the coyote moved to a shady spot by the pool. I opened the sliding glass door and snapped a shot of him trotting away. He jumped to the top of the fence and looked like he decided next door was a better option. I was like, dude, they don’t cook … the food is better over here, but he wasn’t buying it. I put on a mask and went over to alert our neighbors, because they have a dog and a cat that both go outside.

Coyotes do live around here. You can hear them at night. Still, I hope he’s OK. He might have heard the pool is open for the season – registering yesterday at 81 degrees! Of course, I’m being sexist here. It could be a she, but I’m thinking it’s a boy coyote that would run away from home and camp out in someone’s yard.  

Swimming

I’ve started swimming in our backyard pool. It’s not a huge pool, so swimming laps is not ideal, lots of head-bashing, but it’s the only option I have right now, coyotes and all. I need to decide if I’m going to keep my membership in the health club. I would definitely not use the weights or the locker room. I’ve been doing free weights at home.

I would like to use the pool at the health club and have a plan for how to do it safely if or when it reopens, but if I swim twice a week, that’s about $10 a swim. Not sure it’s worth it. Although, my back did feel better after just one swim. Decisions!

Cookie Madness

I’ve decided to allow myself one peanut butter cookie a day until I no longer want one … which might never happen, so perhaps I will be eating one every single day for the rest of my life. I can’t believe one cookie could be all that bad for me. And they are so easy to make.

The recipe yields about a dozen and a half – depending on what size scoop you use, and the only ingredients are peanut butter, brown sugar and an egg. A smattering of sea salt. I prefer them without chocolate chips. What can I say? They bring me joy.

Books & TV

Today is a library curbside pick-up for Dead Land, the new Sara Paretsky novel featuring V.I. Warshawski. This is book 20. I think I’ve read them all.

I’m done with the current season of Bosch, and I finished the Longmire series. Both were excellent, although I did not like how Longmire wrapped up. I won’t spoil it for you, but it just didn’t feel right to me. I do think he’s a cutie and hope to see him in something else soon.

While I’ve yet to pick a new crime series, I have a long list of options. None are calling to me. I’m currently watching Vida on STARZ. It’s about two Mexican sisters who return home to Los Angeles after their mother passes away.

The mother ran a bar, and it turns out she was a closet lesbian – at least closeted to her daughters. The daughters start to run the bar and become immersed in the local scene. Warning – strong sexual content and not necessarily your routine stuff.

The last argument

Although we are still being cautious, we went to Home Depot for two things needed for a small improvement project. While it was not a good experience for us, it did result it what we are calling, “The Last Argument.” I wanted to order online and have it delivered to the car. Dale wanted to go in and buy weed killer. I conceded.

We put on our masks. There was a line, and they were counting people as they entered. Still, there were a lot of people entering, and most of them were not wearing masks. Dale got annoyed and didn’t want to buy weed killer after all. We got the two things we went for and got out of there as fast as we could.

Later, Dale said he was angry that I insisted we go to Home Depot to buy things for an optional improvement project. I said, if you will recall, I wanted to have it delivered to the car. The only reason we went inside is because you wanted to.

He was like, oops, I forgot. Sigh. We’re just humans doing the best we can. Kiss and make up. We agreed – talk everything through in advance, make sure we understand each other’s expectations and don’t fight about anything ever. It sucks.

Stress behavior

People are stressed, and stress behavior can be ugly. I played golf, and one of the women in my group was a complete bitch. She didn’t mess with me, but she was so rude to one of the other players. I don’t know where that came from, other than she’s just pissed about life in general.

I almost didn’t play but had a golf dream telling me to relax and let my swing flow smoothly. I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard something about a smooth swing, but I finally figured out why it doesn’t stick.

Sometimes you do herky-jerky things, and you get away with it. Smash a drive or whatever. You begin to think that’s the secret, so you start trying it on purpose. Nothing good comes of this. Smooth is always the answer. I said to myself, just go, be at peace with the universe, stay calm and be smooth. Do not introduce extra movements to the momentum of the swing.

It worked! I played well … much better than I’ve been playing, even with my exposure to the bitter bitch. I hope she chills out. I feel stress and constantly have to work at managing these challenges in a positive way, but I’m mostly successful and certainly happier.

It’s hot, and if there are no coyotes in backyard, I will be taking a dip today.

Stay chilled.

Death by junk food

A paean to lard from a Gibble’s potato chip bag.

Keeping everything in stock seems like a full-time job. Between Amazon, local grocery store pick-up and a few specialty products from online vendors, we’re fabulous, thank you. Except, well, Dale’s gone feral.

He ordered two “snacker packs” of Gibble’s potato chips from his buddies at Ship My Chips. He calls potato chips Vitamin P. Gibble’s are from Chambersburg, Pa. We (mostly he) developed a taste for them when we lived there years ago. The chips are fried in lard, and our recipe scrapbook even includes the paean to lard he once clipped from a bag of the Gibble’s.

They aren’t here yet. Every day he waits and watches by the door.

Then there’s the pretzel situation. I wrote a post about this more than a year ago, but some people never learn. When we did our last in-store shopping, I snagged a bag of pretzels and asked if he wanted a bag. Dale likes extra salty, and I like extra dark. He said no, but by the time we got home, he was regretting it. He went online and ordered straight from the manufacturer. I asked if he got some for me, and he said it didn’t occur to him.

It’s every man for himself out here.

Later, Dale said he didn’t think of me as a pretzel eater. Really? That’s the best you can do? I said maybe I can pick the salt off yours, and he responded, “That’s a good idea.”

No. It isn’t.

Dale’s junk food Jones seems to be at peace for now, but I fully expect a truck full of Cheetos to arrive at any moment.

Walking

A walking path near our home.

I didn’t walk for a couple of days, mostly because of rain. Yesterday, I did my five-mile loop, and it was lovely. I only encountered a few people, and we all gave each other a wide berth. When we were figuring out where to live after I retired, traffic-free walking paths were a priority. Although we live in a suburban area, there are plenty of uncrowded trails.

I’m so glad I stuck to my guns. Walking lifts my spirits in so many ways. In the current hunkering down edict, my mood cycles throughout the day and depends in part on exposure to news. But a nice long walk blows off the stink and makes me feel human again.

Liquor store run

We made a liquor store run. I wasn’t sure what to expect, so I wore my homemade no-sew mask. I wore the hat because it was raining. Dale said I looked like Butch Cassidy.

I liked the set-up. The store itself is closed to walk-in traffic. You shop and pay for your booze online and select a pick-up time. The entrance is roped off, and there’s a kiosk attended by a store clerk. I showed the clerk my receipt, she got the box and handed it over. There’s hand sanitizer on the kiosk, and I had my own stash of disinfecting stuff as well.

Anything that isn’t perishable goes into the garage to “cool off” for a couple of days.

For food, we’ve been waffling between reasonably healthy and indulgent. Dale made homemade refried beans from dried pintos, which sounds healthy enough, except then he made golden-fried beany cheesy chimichangas, which are a wee bit indulgent.

I mean, I don’t want to die of scurvy or whatever, but right now indulgent feels good. I actually don’t feel too bad about it, because we do eat a wide variety of food, including fruits and vegetables, we exercise and we’re good about portion control. Even our indulgent stuff is homemade.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Yesterday, Dale made sausage and cheese breakfast sandwiches on my home-baked English muffins. Seriously, you could sell those things on the side of the road and live comfortably off the proceeds. For dinner, we split that scrawny steak from Whole Foods delivery, and it was absolutely delicious. We also split a baked potato, and I sautéed mushrooms and spinach to go with. We opened a bottle of local Cabernet Franc.

Oh, and we emptied the bottle, as well.

My last grocery pick-up included long grain rice, which seems to be in short supply, so I was happy to see that. Score! We also got some kale. While we’re not on the “All Things Kale” bandwagon, we do like it. Tonight, Dale is making a one-pot wonder with kale, Italian sausage and canned white beans.

Trying to avoid death by junk food, but I have to admit, I’m looking forward to those chips. How about you? Cookies? Ice cream? Candy? Do tell.

Managing the supply chain

Our first order from Amazon Fresh delivered to our doorstep.

Shopping

We got our first delivery from Amazon Fresh. I believe you have to live near a Whole Foods store, which was a requirement on my retirement location spreadsheet.

Go me.

Amazon has two ways to shop at Whole Foods, and honestly, I don’t understand the difference, but I got what I wanted. Fresh raspberries, radishes, our favorite bacon, salmon and other goodies.

One item I ordered was a boneless ribeye steak. We usually split one. Was it as thick as we normally get? No, but hey, it’s a steak!

I liked the experience because they tell you whether it’s in stock before you complete the purchase. The packages were delivered within a two-hour window with no personal contact. Not even a ringing of the doorbell, which is fine with me.

Later we went to pick up an order at the Safeway. I drove to a designated spot, called the number posted there and popped the trunk. A few minutes later a guy put the groceries in the trunk and waved bye. No contact. They were out of oatmeal and hot sausage, but they substituted regular sausage. No substitutes for oatmeal.

Dale has entered the acceptance phase of his grocery store grief and is helping me with the tasks. He’s the supply chain guy, and he’s teaching me how to do it efficiently. I’m keeping a log of what I’ve ordered and assuming some things might not be available, I’m checking them off as they come in. Also keeping a running list of items we might need soon.

We have enough toilet paper, but I’ve been on the lookout just the same. Target claims they have some in stock, but you have to go into the store. This morning I found it on Amazon – a popular national brand – and theoretically it will be delivered next week. My days of treating toilet paper like party streamers are over. No details, of course, but it’s like my ass knows there’s a toilet paper shortage.

BAking

Oh, and I guess everyone is baking! We have plenty of flour, but thinking ahead, I ordered more AP and bread flour from King Arthur. Shipping is three to four weeks out, but that’s fine for us. I had some pastry flour in the freezer. I forget what I bought it for. I used it to make cinnamon hand pies this morning.

Reading

I successfully downloaded a book for my Kindle from the public library … the first of the Walt Longmire series by Craig Johnson. I liked it and want to read the rest, but I like to read them in order, and the next one wasn’t available as a digital download. I don’t want to pay for it, so I got another Jack Reacher by Lee Child. He can be a bit violent for me, but so far, so good. This one is “The Midnight Line.”

At the recommendation of writer Ann Patchett, I purchased (for $0.99) “The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane” by Kate DiCamillo. It’s a children’s book, and I loved it. In fact, it’s a quick read, so I may read it again today. I highly recommend this book if you haven’t read it. Quite uplifting!

I’ve been reading more than watching, although I look forward to every Sunday, when a new episode of Outlander arrives.

We’ll need to replenish the liquor soon. That’s when I learn about just-in-time delivery.

Abandoning lame old guy humor

Re-purposing corporate swag as a cannabis journal. Because who can stop me now?

My, my, my corona

I worry about all things big and small. When I first retired, I feared the showdown with North Korea would ruin my retirement. Damn it, I thought, I just want to sleep late for a few years.

Now the coronavirus is keeping me up at night. My neighbor told me it was going to get bad out there, disease-wise, and my retirement funds were at risk in the stock market. I didn’t comment on the virus but said our finances are conservatively invested. We don’t make as much as other people, but we don’t lose as much, either. That quieted things down.

While I’m trying not to overreact, it’s scary just the same. I’m careful – washing my hands and trying not to touch my face – but Dale isn’t as obsessive as I am, and I fear he’ll catch it and gift it to me.

He said I was probably glad older men are at higher risk, and I did not disagree. I guess I didn’t handle that well. Then I stepped it in again when Dale bought new hearing aids outright rather than pay a monthly fee because they wanted an automatic bank draft.

I pay several bills with automatic drafts and have never had a problem. I said not doing the draft officially makes him an old guy, and he did not take kindly to the feedback.

Cannabis journaling

My new seedling has emerged, and it looks great! It came up in four days. This time around I’m using the LED light for the entire growth cycle, I’m using a bigger pot – 5 gallons – and I should benefit from warmer weather overall.

I have this bound booklet that was a giveaway from some corporate event I attended before I retired. I was supposed to use it for taking notes.

Oops. I forgot.

Now it gives me great pleasure to re-purpose this fine motivational swag as my growing journal. The theme is “Elevating our Impact.”

Books & TV

I ran out of Outlander episodes on Netflix. Season 5 was just released, but it’s only available through STARZ. I signed up for a three-month trial so I could start watching Season 5. Then I discovered STARZ doesn’t drop them all at once like most streaming services. Subscribers get one episode a week.

Although I was annoyed at first, I’ve changed my mind. Binge-watching has its merits, but there’s something to be said for the feeling of anticipation as a new episode approaches. The slower pace seems to fit my retirement lifestyle. It turns out we don’t need everything instantly.  

Vera is a show on BritBox, and since I don’t subscribe to BritBox, I thought I’d read the first book in the series about Detective Inspector Vera Stanhope. “The Crow Trap” by Ann Cleeves. I like it so far, but I’m about one-third of the way through, and Vera has not appeared. I’m eager to meet her, and God knows, these characters need her help. Two dead already and no clues to be found.

I enjoyed “Burn the Place” by Iliana Regan. She is a Michelin-starred chef, and part of the story is about food and foraging, part of it is about substance abuse and the rest is a lesbian coming-out story. The memoir was long-listed for the National Book Award. I don’t think it came anything close to that level, but I enjoyed it very much.

Old guy humor

After my gaffe about Dale being old, I’m abandoning lame old guy humor, which might be good for all of us to think about, considering the slate of U.S. presidential candidates. Old is OK!

I’m also going to try standard compliments. While I thought calling Dale “The Human Dictionary” was a sexy and unique nod to his brilliance, perhaps simpler is better. Something that appeals to the vanity within all of us.

You look great! Have you been working out?

He’ll be suspicious, so I’ll have to tread carefully.   

Don’t mess with Aunt Bee

Fans are upset with plans to film “The Andy Griffith Show” movie in Indiana.

I said no to the woman who offered me a volunteer role in my golf league. My back seized up mid-round, I could barely finish and now I’m popping blue buddies (Advil) while I rest at home for a few days. And they say there are no coincidences. Anyway, here’s my response:

“Thanks so much for thinking of me. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to say no this time around. I do understand the needs of our group and will consider volunteering in the future.”

She said OK, thanks for thinking about it. And many thanks to Retirement Confidential readers for the thoughtful feedback! Your advice, coupled with new evidence of annoying behavior helped me decide.

In golf, every hole has a mowed area where you hit your first shot. The tee box. Markers define the edges, and you stand behind an imaginary line between the two markers facing the target.

Yesterday I played with one of the big wheels in the first group, and she religiously spread the markers on each hole as wide as possible. I asked why, and she said lefties complain the hole doesn’t line up for them properly unless the markers are spread wide. I said presumably there are left-handed men, and no one shuffles their markers around, and she said, “Women are picky.”  

I rest my case.

The Taste Test

For the finale to my first season as a gentlewoman cannabis farmer, I taste-tested my haul, and it’s very nice weed, indeed! This particular strain is called Jack Herer, known for relieving stress and producing a pleasant buzz. I’m always careful not to overdo it … just enough to feel the beginnings of a smile.

I put a seed in water today to germinate … this one is going in a 5-gallon pot with the aim of increasing my yield. Since I am still so new at this, I decided not to re-use the soil from my first grow. It’s probably just a matter of fertilizer, but I went with the expansion kit from A Pot for Pot.

Don’t mess with aunt bee

This morning’s newspaper had an article about a movie featuring Andy Taylor of Mayberry … being filmed in Indiana. Fans are furious they would film it anywhere but North Carolina.

Having lived in South Carolina, I am familiar with Andy Taylor, who was played by Andy Griffith in “The Andy Griffith Show.” The show was based in Mayberry, a fictional representation of Mount Airy, N.C., where the real Andy grew up.

The show is iconic in the South. The Carolinas, anyway. I remember watching re-runs in the chemo room at the hospital in South Carolina, where I was treated for ovarian cancer 21 years ago. Andy was always on, and it didn’t matter if you were black or white or had cancer or not, if you changed the channel you were dead.

Later, I complained about it to a co-worker. I said the worst of it was that sanctimonious Aunt Bee.

I can’t adequately describe the reaction. Shock quickly accelerating to outrage? Like how is that possible? What’s not to love about Aunt Bee?

It would not be completely accurate to say no one spoke to me again after that, but there was always an edge. Like, oh, yeah, you! What a great presentation smarty pants, but aren’t you the one who said you didn’t like Aunt Bee? It’s the kind of thing that follows you around.

My advice to the moviemakers. Suck it up.  Go to North Carolina. Say nice things about Aunt Bee.

New Crime fiction

In the category of crime fiction, I recommend the first two books in what I hope will be a long series by Louisa Luna. “Two Girls Down” is the first, and the second is “The Janes.” The character is Alice Vega, a tough and brilliant young freelance detective who finds missing children. She partners with a disgraced former cop named Cap.

Alice is different than your run-of-the-mill female detective. Stoic is the word that comes to mind. Totally focused on getting the job done and not much interested in normal pleasures like food and sleep, she uses bolt cutters to take bad guys down. Bolt cutters aside, the violence is relatively minimal.

Nature’s antidepressant

My cinnamon hand pie.
Dale grilling tomatillos and peppers for Chile Verde.
Tomatillos and peppers grilling for Chile Verde.

The weather turned unseasonably warm and dry, although it’s chilly in the morning and evening. We need the rain, and actually, I’m a precipitation convert. I like it now that I’m retired and can stay home and be cozy.

Politics is maddening and depressing, so I’m trying to ignore it and focus on simple pleasures. Mostly food, with exercise thrown in, because, you know, the food …

Exercise

My favorite golf course is much more enjoyable when it’s dry, so I’m playing all I can before we get another downpour. I always walk … a good five miles. I’m amazed by the number of able-bodied people who take a cart on a walkable course. The same people who wait 15 minutes for a parking space closer to the store.

The swimming pool at my fitness club is lovely, although I witnessed an altercation there this week. I was quietly swimming laps, imagining I was in the Caribbean, when I heard a ruckus. I stopped mid-lane to discover the lady next to me yelling at the guy one lane over. The woman does not swim but runs and hops around in the pool to music.

Apparently, she didn’t like where the guy was about to start swimming. He had his own lane, but I guess it was too close for comfort. He suggested they switch lanes to give her more room, and she suggested he go to the other side of the pool (or somewhere else). I stayed out of it, returning to the bliss of the Caribbean. Good grief, people. Chill out.

When I finished my swim, it appeared neither compromised in any form or fashion, so then I began to wonder if they were married. Ha, ha.  

Food

The warmer weather somewhat foils my winter cooking plans. Still on my agenda are stuffed cabbage rolls and a casserole made with layers of sauerkraut, rice, ground pork, smoked sausage, bacon and sour cream. I know. A weird artery killer, but dag, it’s good.

The New York Times charges extra (beyond the basic subscription level) to access most of its food section, but this feature on one-pot wonders seems freely accessible. I print internet recipes and put them in a three-ring binder. Easier than a scrapbook.

Although I’ll need more rain or at least a cold snap to make this recipe, Dijon and Cognac Beef Stew looks spectacular. I love this quote from the recipe’s author:

“Whoever said cooking should be entered into with abandon or not at all had it wrong. Going into it when you have no hope is sometimes just what you need to get to a better place. Long before there were antidepressants, there was stew.”

Regina Schrambling

I finally made cinnamon hand pies from “When Pies Fly” by Cathy Barrow. While I’ve tried crust recipes from Martha Stewart, Rose Levy Beranbaum and the rest, I never mastered all-butter crust until I did it Cathy’s way. Everything is cold, and you use the food processor, but it doesn’t come together in a clump. You squish the dough together afterward in plastic wrap, roll it into a block and then refrigerate overnight.

Super yummy! Of course, I made that all-butter crust, but I think it would be easy to use any crust, including store-bought, and a simple filling of brown sugar, a bit of flour, cinnamon and nutmeg to taste. Add just enough melted butter to make a crumble and use a cookie scoop to fill the pie before pressing down the edges of the crust with a fork. Vent the top. I baked mine at 400 degrees for about 25 minutes.  

As the weather seems to be transitioning, kind of cold but kind of not, Dale figured out how to make the best of both worlds. A hearty Chile Verde and homemade flour tortillas for a chilly night … but … with some outdoor prep time in the sun when the temps were in the 60s!

Compromise. Just another pro tip for relationships and cooking.

How Luddites bank

My cannabis plant has been growing for about 90 days. It has been in the flowering stage for a couple of weeks and probably has a couple more to go.

I get my cannabis body parts mixed up, but I think the calyx is the base of the flower, and as you can see, there are a bunch, and they are continuing to stack and swell. While my plant is smallish, it’s rather amazing and quite beautiful. Dale goes in there to worship it from time to time.

The white hairs are called stigmas, which turn orange-brown as the plant progresses through the flowering stage. Trichomes are the resin glands where the cannabinoids are formed. Cannabinoids, among them CBD and THC, are the psychoactive and medicinal components of the cannabis plant.

I had a hard time identifying the trichomes until I took a picture using the snap-on macro smartphone lens that came with my grow kit and realized (maybe) trichomes are the clear white bubbles on the buds and leaves. They will eventually turn from clear to cloudy to amber, and that’s when it’s time to harvest.

Dale wants to know if we’re having a harvest festival. That Dale. When you’re about to throw a party, and you’ve worked your ass off getting the place ready, he’s the guy who shows up in a clean Hawaiian shirt when the work is done and taps the keg.

There may very well be a harvest festival, but I still have to read up on how to actually cut down the plant and hang it to dry. This has been quite the learning experience!

How Luddites bank

At the end of the day, my husband likes to drop all his change into an old plastic Atomic Fire Ball bin. A big one – something you would get from Costco or Sam’s Club. The bin was full, but we weren’t sure how to convert it to real money.

I looked into Coinstar but didn’t want to pay the fee. One can avoid the fee by getting an eGift Card, but Dale is a bit of a Luddite and suspicious of all things that start with a small e.

We’re doing it the old-fashioned way.

First, I went to the bank and asked if they accepted rolls of coins. They do. And they provided me with the flat paper rolls. When I got home, I separated the quarters, nickels and dimes. Dale asked what I was doing, and I said I was being nickled and dimed. Which is kind of true, because as it turns out, this is not how he would have done it.

Dale has yet to reveal his secrets to coin-rolling, but since I started, I think he’s extricated himself from any role in this fun family activity. That’s OK, because at this point, it’s like I’m on a mission from God.

So far, I have more than $300 in quarters. I’m out of quarter rolls and asked Dale what he thought about our next move. Should I take what I have to the bank and get more rolls? Or should we wait until we’ve finished and do it all at once?

It’s funny. We are so different, yet in some ways it’s like we’re the same person. Maybe that happens after 41 years. Anyway, we both blurted out, “Let’s do it all at once!” And we started laughing. Somehow, it’s exciting to see the grand total. Maybe that’s just how Luddites roll.

Of course, the real problem is figuring out how to actually carry in this pile of rolls without looking like criminals. Dale said criminals don’t bring stuff into the bank. They steal things from the bank. True, but there’s an armed guard at the entrance, and I can just see us holding some sort of parcel stuffed with coin rolls and the guard thinking it’s a gun or biological agent.

These things never go well for me. I can see it already. I’ll be on the ground bleeding out, and they’ll be apologizing to Dale for the mess and asking him if he wants it in $20s.

A nose for cat pee

Dale and our former cat, Bruno, on the 40-year-old couch everyone enjoys.
Our current cat, Riley. “Couch, I can’t quit you.”

Somehow it seems wrong to follow a lively colonoscopy discussion with a post about cat pee, but these things can happen from time to time. The filters have left the building, and it’s kind of like Johnny Lee Hooker and Boogie Chillen, when papa told mama, “Let that boy boogie-woogie. It’s in him, and it got to come out.”

One of the worst smelling things in the world is cat pee. From such sweet kitty babies comes such vile waste. There is a new development in the world of cat pee, but first a little history.

We adopted a huge cat in South Carolina and named him Bruno. He was a great cat, but he was not a good cat. A thug, really, but a lovable thug. He never liked being an indoor cat. Bruno enjoyed a screened porch in South Carolina, because who doesn’t? After we moved to Texas, we spent a fortune fencing in our backyard with special cat fence so he could enjoy the great outdoors.

For both moves, we chauffeured him to his new residence, partly because he was too big for airplane carry-on. I had all kinds of absorbent layers under his carrier in the backseat of the car in case of an accident, because, well, you never know. At some point in life, I think we all begin to understand bladder control is a tenuous thing.

We were driving from Texas to California, and we were in the Panhandle when I smelled it. I was certain he sprayed. We pulled over and began to investigate. Nothing. We finally got out of the car to get fresh air, and it turned out wherever we were smelled exactly like cat pee. It was in the air. I forget the name of the town, but we called it Cat Pee, Texas.

Bruno was always a good roadie and adjusted to life in California quite well. We struggled with the indoor-outdoor dilemma, but we were done spending my retirement money on cat fences. Aside from an escape to the neighbor’s yard that involved me climbing the fence at midnight to retrieve him, he was an indoor cat.

Then he started peeing everywhere. We tried all kinds of things to stop it and took him to the vet to see if anything was wrong. The vet said he was fine. I purchased a blue light and would explore the house at night like a madwoman to see where he was spraying. Pee lights up yellow. He trashed a Flokati rug downstairs, but the pad underneath caught most of it, and the pee didn’t seep into the hardwoods.

Upstairs was carpet, and that was a different story. It was a four-bedroom house, and all the damage was in two bedrooms, one used for our office and one used as an exercise room. He never touched our bedroom or the guest bedroom.

It got worse, and he started to decline in other ways. Our boy was sick. We took him back to the vet, who did an ultrasound and discovered Bruno had extensive cancer. I assume all the spraying was related to pain and illness. Poor little guy. I mean poor big guy. We ended up taking him back to the vet for the big sleep and cried like babies for weeks months afterward.

But then we had to figure out what to do about the two bedrooms. We pulled up corners of the carpet and learned it had seeped into the subfloor. We thought we could replace the subfloor, but a carpet guy came and said that wouldn’t work, because the boards were structural and spanned across rooms.

The carpet guy said to scrub the floor with a mix of bleach and water and then seal it with oil-based primer/sealer. Then they would put new padding and new carpet down. The floor scrub was the easy part. We did it once, let it dry and then did it again.

Then we discovered California does not sell the stuff we needed due to environmental restrictions. Dale drove to Reno and back in one day to buy it. Because, you know, Reno … it’s right there waiting for illicit interstate cat pee traffic.

We painted on two coats of the sealer, and later the carpet guys came back to finish the job. There was absolutely no odor left, and we sold the house when I retired.

Our new cat, Riley, is a Maine Coon mix, with a sweeter disposition (although, as I said, Bruno was a great cat who had his charms). We had to lock Riley up in the second bedroom last week when contractors were here replacing our old heating and cooling system. When I went back into the room to retrieve him, I could swear I smelled cat pee.

It was like déjà vu all over again. I found the blue light and commenced to examine. Nothing! One of his litter boxes is in that room, but it’s clean and odorless. I went back in the next day to see if I had missed anything. I was over by the wall where the cannabis plant is growing beautifully, and then I could smell it.

My cannabis plant smells like cat pee! This particular strain is Jack Herer. After Googling it, I discovered others have compared it to cat pee. When the door is open you don’t notice it, but the smell was noticeable after Riley was locked up in there all day.

I’m thinking it might not be all that bad. Dale couldn’t smell it, but then he can’t hear either, so I’m not sure he’s the best judge. It’s like my nose was born to smell cat pee.

On the bright side, Riley has been redeemed, and at a little more than 10 weeks, my cannabis plant is thriving. I don’t really smell it until I get up close, so I’m hopeful the odor subsides a bit after it is harvested and dried. One can only hope. If not, I will make it my resolution to embrace the smell of cat pee.

I have nine more seeds. 

Cat pee cannabis at 10 weeks.

Don’t panic. You’ve got this.

I played decent golf yesterday in my weekly league play, and even if I ultimately decide competition isn’t my thing, changing my mindset to become more competitive made a difference. I was less fearful and stayed calm when I made mistakes. I was like, “Don’t panic, don’t panic. You’ve got this.” And most of the time I did.

Maybe I should have started saying that, oh, I don’t know, in childhood? Don’t panic. You’ve got this. Might be my new mantra for life in general.

Over-programming

Golf takes up a lot of time, but still, I am surprised at how busy I seem to be in retirement, even without a grand strategy or detailed list of goals. One thing I know for sure – I don’t want to be over-programmed. I already had swimming on my general list of regular activities, but since I joined the fitness center, I’ve also started doing weights, so that’s one more thing.

I’m not expecting any kind of revolutionary changes with the weight routine, which at this point is sort of minimalist. But I am hoping it will help with overall strength, balance and bone density.  I told the trainer I wasn’t going to look like one of the hot buff chicks. I just want to keep my body in decent enough shape to get me to the end of the party, hopefully standing up and without any broken bones.

When all else fails – duct tape!

The hinge on my laptop is broken. I can’t close it properly, which isn’t a big deal, since I don’t travel with it or work remotely. But it’s a pain in the rear. The computer is just over two years old. I took it to the Geek Squad at Best Buy, and they said it would be at least five weeks. Presumably because they have to send it back to Dell.

I decided to skip the Geek Squad and managed to duct tape the hinge back together for the time being. I wonder if there are local computer repair people who could fix it? Everything else seems to be working fine.

Dentist. Yay.

Today is the dentist. I go three times a year because I build up excessive tartar and am prone to gingivitis. I told you that’s why the gene pool stops here! I don’t know if it’s genetic or the result of poor dental hygiene in childhood. My parents did the best they could, and brushing and flossing didn’t make the cut.

The Army was a good experience for me in many ways, including dental care. It was like an intervention, and since then, I have been religious about taking care of my teeth and gums. My hygienist recommended a water flosser, suggesting it would replace daily flossing. I’ve been using it since my last appointment, so I’m curious to see what she says. I like it a lot, but there’s one caveat.

When I was traveling, I didn’t take it with me, so I brought floss. When I started to floss, my gums bled a little bit in places. I thought the water flosser was supposed to take care of that, but apparently not for me. So, now I do both. No wonder I’m busy.

Books & Movies

I finished The Testaments, the sequel to The Handmaid’s Tale. Didn’t I just see it won the Booker prize? I guess they liked it more than I did. It was OK, but I don’t know, I was expecting more. Offred is more like background noise as opposed to a featured character. I wanted more closure on Offred. Still, it is worth reading if you liked the first one.

On the movie front, I watched To Catch a Thief with Cary Grant and Grace Kelly. If you read through the comments, Barbara said I looked like a female version of John Robie, the character in the movie. I’m not nearly as stylish as he is, but watching the movie kind of got me excited about fashion. At least excited about one outfit – the striped sweater and polka dot scarf. Somehow, I want to reproduce that.

We recorded the new Ken Burns documentary on country music and have been watching that. Dale doesn’t even like country music, but we both love this series.

Foodie Talk

The weather has cooled, and that makes me want to cook! Next on my list is a recipe for moussaka from an older cookbook by David Rosengarten. For you foodies, he was on the Food Network when it first started. When the network went viral, he kind of went away. Although I saw him recently as a judge on Iron Chef America.

I love his moussaka recipe, but I will have to tweak it some. The pan I originally made it in broke, so I used another pan, and it spread out too much, making it too thin. Moussaka needs to be thick, like lasagna. David calls for an 18x8x3 inch pan. I do not believe such a pan exists or ever has. Don’t ask me how many hours I spent trying to find one.

Finally, I came to the conclusion I don’t need that pan, I just need a different recipe. I compared and contrasted and decided I still liked David’s best, however, I want to reduce the eggplant and lamb by half but keep the bechamel the same. I’ll probably try it this weekend. A full report is pending.

In the meantime, I rewarded myself for this effort with a new Emile Henry lasagna pan. I think it will be perfect for the resized moussaka. I got red, because it was $10 cheaper than white the day I purchased it. But now I just went back to get the link, and there it is in white for the same price. Dale likes red, so why not?