Today’s Mixed Bag

Tue., October 21, 11:44 AM

I’ve got some longer essays in the pipe. But I am trying to post more often; I have great admiration for those people who never miss more than a day. (And then, of course, I worry about them when they don’t!) I don’t want to wait until the whole whatevers fit together, because some of these things percolate for weeks.

We visited some old friends Sunday. When I say “old” friends, I’m being precise. Husband knew this couple long before he knew me and, in fact, he brought me there after our second date – for inspection, I guess, though I didn’t realize it at the time. Anyway, their kids are grown up, they have grandchildren on both sides of the continent (and a son in Colorado). They often travel in the summer months, and they spend their winters at their Florida house.

We try to schedule an annual get-together before the holidays (knowing they’ll be getting ready to move south right after). We have to coordinate a driver for us now, as it’s about twenty-five miles away and we always get home late. Husband has decreed that we have to go before it gets too cold. (They do not allow smoking in the house – though they’ve occasionally make an exception for him – and he doesn’t want to go outside when it’s cold. His priorities…)

The nature of our little visits has changed over the years. When our kids were small, we’d go in the summertime for a cookout on their beautiful stone fireplace, which now sits idle. I would bring dessert – some kind of home-made baked goods. Hamburgers and hot dogs are off-limits, says Mrs. Food Police (his term for her), since his heart attack. So dinner is usually baked chicken and vegetables, and I bring homemade applesauce. Husband usually has his one beer of the year. (That’s all he wants. I would rather he drink than smoke, but it’s not his style.)

Talk about old-fashioned; the guys usually congregate in the den to watch football, and the ladies sit at the dining table and talk. U.D. brought JM this time, and he didn’t mind watching football. He told us that there was a lot of snoozing going on as well.

We had a good time. We caught up on everything, and we’ll keep in touch via e-mail until next year.

From time to time, people write about not wanting to mention names in their journals. I suppose there isn’t anyone who can’t be found if you try hard enough. Mostly I don’t care, because it’s not as if I’m being pursued by police or creditors. And since we’ve lived at the same address for thirty-plus years, this would be a funny time to start hiding.

On the other hand, I know people who are more fearful than I, and I tend not to use anyone’s real name when I write. But one day, a message appeared in my guestbook from a cousin I haven’t talked to in years..

She is the daughter of my mother’s brother; that is, her mother was never one of The Aunts. Yet she had found my post about them and sent a cordial message, saying I seemed to have fonder memories of them than she did. Certainly it was nice hearing from her.

But how did she find that post? My name isn’t on it. Neither is hers. All I could figure (I didn’t ask) was that she had Googled her mother’s name – which also is not really in there. What appears in the story is her mother’s first name, completely isolated from the mention – just one – of the family name.

I’m just reminding people to be careful. Maybe they don’t have to be – or maybe they should?

The new doctor called me with the results of the bone scan: absolutely nothing we didn’t know before. The arthritis that is evident by simple X-rays doesn’t bother me – except it was evidently aggravated by lying on that metal table for a couple of hours. As far as I can tell, the only recommendations are (1) glucosamine compounds for the arthritis and (2) more of those special pillows to relieve the pressure when sitting.

U.D. was in another car accident last Friday – hit by one more driver that blew a stop sign. (I swear she’s a magnet.) She’s okay; the only reason I have to mention it at all is some foolish errors on the insurance declaration. (My insurance company was bought by a larger one, one that I had dropped some fifteen years ago. You know how much praise I have for big companies.) They have made a couple of false assumptions:

There’s a longer comment in there somewhere.

Maybe this will hold my place for a while; I will try to do better.



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