My first Phoenix Outing

Without my dear friends from Minneapolis to join me, I have put off outings for three years now. Sure, I've had visits from my Mpls/Tucson friends and other friends and relatives during the season. We've had dinners out, visited the Desert Gardens' Luminaries and attended spring training games, but there's still a lot of time to fill between these events.  Much to look forward to as well.

Today I found myself on the brink of depression. I was swearing at my opponent on my Kindle Fire Scrabble game, was totally indifferent to any Sudoku puzzle and was very annoyed with my Spider Solitaire game, which I seldom win.  Realizing I had to do something else with at least some of my time, I sprang forth from my leather recliner and marched purposefully out the door and down the block to Dillard's, located in my neighborhood shopping mall. Three blocks later I reached the traffic light on that busy street that I've always driven on or across, punched the pedestrian button and walked across the street, where I found it interesting that there was no sidewalk, just a surprisingly empty portion of the Mall parking lot, 

At Dillard's I browsed the shoe department, bought some socks, then rode the escalator upstairs where things were eerily quiet for the week before Christmas.  Reviewed the kitchen gadget department. Did you know you can buy gadgets that prepare two grilled sandwiches at the same time and another gadget that makes quesadillas?  Lots of one cup coffee makers there as well.  So many gadgets to fill the empty cupboards of the truly trendy set.  I visited with a delightful American woman who lives in the Netherlands, but is here for the holidays.  She told me the Netherlands is the most successful free enterprise country in the world because they realize the importance of taking care of all their people.  

Then I visited with an employee named Roxanne, who moved here from Minnesota after her husband died.   We discussed families and our situations.  She suggested I might join a Singles group at a church, perhaps a Bible Study group.  I don't think so, but she did assure me such a group would probably accept me even though I'm "getting on in years" (my words).  There were no interruptions and we could have gone on for hours, but I was getting hungry.

Finally, I was off to the Paradise Bakery for a sandwich, after which I ventured outdoors and found my way back to my parking lot and intersection and home again.  I bought three pairs of socks and some small gift type items for my cousins and feel so much better for the outing, I'm almost ready to play another game of Scrabble on my Fire. 

No ouch anymore

Today's milestone was the realization that I no longer say "ouch" when I get into or out of the car.  Yes!! I've been noticing the teeny, tiny improvements every day for the past two and a half months.  Today I realize that I hardly think of the old hip joint at all.  Not totally healed, but damned close.  Hip surgery is miraculous.  To enjoy walking and feeling better the more I do is priceless.  To anyone knowing their joint/s are deteriorating, my advice is to see a specialist and follow his/her good advice.  Don't put it off.  Don't waste time with pain you don't have to bear.  We live in a wonderful time in so many ways.  Yes, I know there are issues.  Take advantage of the good.

Discovery

The other day as I was wasting time at my computer surveying the many treasures of thought I have saved there, I ran across my first efforts at accomplishing my fantasy autobiography.  Aside from the fact the portions of my life that might be even remotely interesting to someone else are about enough to fill a somewhat oversized pamphlet, but never a "book", my humble instincts, of which I have few, have been sufficient to give me pause, lest I plunge headlong into an endeavor that will humiliate me and embarrass others.   Still, I've begun to contemplate ways in which to enhance the effort.

Running across the beginning efforts, however, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I actually enjoyed reading some of the material.  Not to sound too self impressed, I will say I thought it was actually rather well written.  I am, therefore, reconsidering the autobiographical possibilities, although I don't quite know how to overcome the other problems -  that there is not that much of interest in my life and that, no matter how clever I think my writing is, few others would find it worth reading.  Still, I need a project and a goal.  Maybe writing about myself, since no one wants to hear me talking about myself, might be the way to go.  After all, no one really will be forced to read it.

Oh what a beautiful Monday Morning!

Settling in for my winter sojourn in my warm place, I've now been here long enough to do laundry - As my washing was merrily rolling along in its ecologically correct, chemically free detergent (not relevant, but "points" for me nevertheless), I noticed a small rivlet of water finding its way across the tile floor and under the garage door. 

Thoughts that struck me as I put down a couple of large "shamwows" - you know, those magic synthetic chamois that we hear about at the State Fair, dog shows and occasionally on QVC channels.  First, I considered the two nice, thick, cushy towels that were going to be left, along with other clothes, all soapy and soggy in the bottom of the washer, and reconsidered my mother's lifestyle.  She always kept and continued using smaller towels with a minimum of "plush".  Most people throw those away and, like me, buy larger,plush towels.  I may have to reconsider.  As something was clearly leaking, I felt that running the spin cycle was probably not wise. 

I thought also of my mother's wisdom in that, up until she broke her hip at age 97, she always washed clothes using a Maytag ringer washer.  I so could have used that ringer.  Squeezing those huge, thick bathtowels to transfer them to the sink to rinse them and then transfer them outside to hang over the patio chairs is almost more than an old girl can handle. 

I discovered, after a careful sifting through the dozens of receipts and other papers here that I have an unexpired warranty on the washer.  A phone call to Sears yielded a person who took down the information, then said please hold, after which I heard crackles of static of the kind with which we who use cell phones are only too familier.  So, I hung up and called  the number again only to be informed by automated recording that I was scheduled for a service call on Thursday between 1 and 6.  If that were not convenient, I have no idea what I would do, as there was no option to reach a human person and discuss the matter. 

As of now, I am still mopping up the water and the things I could ring out are in the dryer, while the sweatshirt and large bath towels are hanging on the patio.  It's raining in Phoenix - through tomorrow, as I understand it.  Timing is everything.