Free Ride

Everything is different now due to the virus. Everything except hostility towards people with disabilities. I know this is a generalized comment which may or may not be accurate but I'm certainly getting some feelings in that direction. I haven't had some of these feelings for 20 or 30 years.

So far this is been extremely dry summer no rain whatsoever, that is until today in Salt Lake County, the only day I have to be out on the transit system and it rains. The goodness it was not torrential, though we need probably torrential rain, there is enough rain to be uncomfortable even though I took a hoodie with me. I also make sure that I have my Covid mask as well. I don't want to go anywhere without the Covid mask. This was the first time I had ridden the bus this week. Last week I wrote the bus was confronted with an angry bus driver. He is not necessarily angry at me, I don't think, as much as he was angry at the situation the world was in and he in particular being an essential worker. Even if he did not direct his anger at specifically me it was my kind, people who use wheelchairs, that was making him get close and personal with the likes of another person in this case me. By law I have to be strapped into the bus. I don't necessarily like this law. If I had my druthers I would not be locked down at all. I'd be happy to take my chances. I often and always maintain that if a catastrophe hit the bus lockdown power chair is only going to save the power chair not necessarily the person riding. I did not point out to the driver that this Covid thing works both ways how does he know he's not the carrier? It would be just my luck to have a driver who is infected leaning over all around me secured me to the vehicle.

As I alluded to in the introduction these feelings of angst towards myself and not new by any means. 20 or 30 years ago after coming to this area, I was transportation coordinator for the independent living Center here in Salt Lake. It was my job to “help” UTA make it more accessible bus system. To do this I stopped buses on my bus route, this was before the buses have lifts – – or actually they did have lifts but the drivers did not want to use them because it would take too long – – if the driver would not use the lift on the bus or the busted not have a left eye proceeded to crawl onto the vehicle and dad and beg someone to bring the chair up after me. At first the drivers hated me I really messed up their time frames. You just have to suck it up driver that's the law and I'm coming aboard where you like it or not or you're going to hear from the administration. I'm getting those feelings again every time I board the bus, will not every time there's a lot of good drivers out there who care about their job who care about their people and just want to give the best drive possible. I have got a lot of things on my mind these days they don't need any more stress than I already have. One thing I have noticed every time I board the bus, since somehow I've lost my bus pass, I go to pay my bus fare and the driver puts his hand over the farebox says not today. I don't know what this is about a kind of tickets of the do with the epidemic but I'm not sure but I still want to get a replacement pass as soon as I can so there's no such thing as a free ride…

West Gate Chains

Remember my blog a few weeks ago a company with an image of my favorite, “secret” side gate to Redwood Road from my gated community, the apartment complex? You remember those shiny silver chains that totally secured the gate from opening. These are heavy-duty chains to some mood have to have a major wire cutter as well as major strength to challenge and defeat these chains and padlocks. Well guess what? The change are still on the fence and I haven't used the gate in over two weeks. But you know what? I'm adapting. I kind of hate to say that but it's true. Now, I just built the extra time and minimal distance involved in going around the corner and out the gate on the south side of the building. There is one drawback however, the Southgate is also closed at about 9 PM which means the only way out of the complex is out the front door and kind it through the park or completely around the block which I don't want to do in the summer and for sure not in the winter. In full disclosure I must also confess that Jennifer, this building's manager, and great broad, gave me a actuator which actually opened the sliding gate on the south entrance. This of course primarily used for individuals who own vehicles to enter and exit independently. Thankfully I can say I have not had to use said actuator but I do have it and hopefully I can use it when I need to. And hopefully I will not need to use the Southgate. This is a bit of a lengthy intro but but it works. I of course in my belief of the sticky wheel gets the squirt have been in Jennifer's office to her three times wondering what's going on. The front office finally came around and let me know the reason the gate has not been repaired is because they can't get the equipment i.e. electrical components needed to get the gate operational. Guess what? Just where the parts come from? You got it China. Boy did we shoot ourselves in the foot this time? This is really one of the first semi-political, Covid, pandemic/depression or whatever that is truly affected me. Like I said I'm okay, I'm adapting otherwise there's a little inconvenience but overall I'm doing okay.

The chained up Westgate has got me thinking however what other areas do a need to really start thinking about as far as things aren't like they used to be? There's the computer of course and all of the peripheral electronics I use. My cell phone in my tablets are all Chinese-based one way or the other. I'm sure there's a host of components to my desktop as well which I suppose conceivably could crash and without replacement parts I could be up a creek. Thankfully, I'm an American, which means I have way more than I need are even deserve I could limp by until relations thaw. The big thing that scares me the most is how many parts does not power chair use?! This is the same question for my motorized bed. If I were to lose key electronics for the bad I could have a major problem! The power chair I'm kind of worried about but not too much after I do have a backup chair which I could cannibalize should the need arise. And for the time being this places like Utah Assistive Technology Program which has a lot of spare parts… Right now. I suppose in a major electronic famine some of those things could change very quickly.

So right now I've got a lot of things to worry about, a lot of “what if S? Sometimes it's easy to focus on one thing and for me it's sort of how my going to use, effectively a pair of wire cutters on the back gate…?

Sloucher

I'm not a sloucher you know that pejorative term for someone who sits back in the chair unevenly and basically slouches. The term does not have a good reputation but sadly I am a sloucher not because I want to but because the decay of my mortal body. Well, besides decay maybe I should be honest and say obesity has a handedness as well and that's on me. It took me a long time to even accept that I was becoming a sloucher in the physical therapy trade I think the term is sacral sitting: that phenomenon where the individual tends to slide forward in his chair causing that person to sit on their lower spine rather than their buttocks. Remember a number of years ago that fiasco when I was brokenhearted when I ordered a new manual chair in hopes of pushing myself more literally. I wanted chair exactly like the chair I had been using which was quite old itself and had been ordered for me at another point in my life. When the chair came the seat was elongated. The chair was huge and I could never see how I could use the chair and of course the salespeople refuse to take it back or do anything with it. I was stuck with the chair that I never used. I don't know how I could've pushed the chair the long tried to live in it. As I look back on that day now with my propensity to sacral set maybe they are correct with the call but I would never use the chair still, I couldn't.

I still have a manual wheelchair that I probably should be using especially now that I have the tile on the floor in the apartment. It is the long time since I sat in that manual chair. I don't know how much progression my sacral sitting has become. I know in my power chair I'm always sliding forward in the chair and having to actually stop what I'm doing and took my chair back and have gravity pull me back into the seat.I have a fairly decent seatbelt in my power chair but I have to get some work done because the chairs way to slack. I still have an issue if it strapped me into tightly. So obviously my spine as part of the problem. Another part of the problem is my belly, there I said it. I think my Billy is gotten so large that is pulling me forwarded my chair and causing me to slouch. I resolved the issue by succumbing to the reality that there's nothing I can do really. I have to live with the fact that overweight spinal cord injured old guy. I continue to watch my calories as good as I can. I try to limit treats and meal quantities. I'm not bitter cry about not having great and wonderful food and is much as I want to make it sound like I'm deprived because I'm not! My life is so good I can barely stand it. I have to severely watch my diet but even then I think I'm still putting on the weight. I used to weigh myself every day, then every week and now it's been a month since I weighed myself the results are too painful for me to accept. This morning I was lying in bed thinking about the fact that I'm 70 years old this coming February which means like I'm old as the dirt. Then I thought I'm pretty fine and 69. I really need to make the best out of the rest of the 69 year I have. I guess what I'm saying as well though I'm 70 years old next February my days on the dirt ball are becoming fewer and fewer matter how lucky I am. And I'm pretty damn lucky but if I don't be more careful when I wake up dead and be astounded…

What's Behind The Mask?

Dianne gave me a couple of great facemasks that she got all her sister was living here a few months ago. This mask are heavy-duty and quite efficient – – I hope. But, I cannot wear them all the time we get a little stinky plus they're pretty hot in the heat of the summer. Anyway, I was returning a flashlight to the True Value store across the street and saw they had some masks and purchased one. I don't know if the mask is is efficient as the black ones but it's colorful and lighter weight and a good backup mask.

Of course, everyone's wearing masks now or they should. I cannot believe how many people are still resisting the reality of Covid 19. There are couple folk I know that do not come right out this say they don't believe the virus is real but sometimes they hint they are having problems believing. We always present the question to me “how come if this virus is so prevalent that I have not met anybody are no ever anybody who knows somebody personally that is either positive testing are as had the virus?). I just back away and try to change the subject as quickly as possible. Obviously they don't want to hear the truth or accept. But I am compliant. It's taken me a few months to really get into the fall compliancy mentality but I really believe I got a go through this/we got a go through this to get some kind of other side and I still do not know what that's going to be. What's interesting though is leaving the house/apartment without the mask and immediately stopped in my tracks going back and grabbing the mask from the hook on my rack. When I'm out the community and everybody else is wearing masks it's hard to smile at people who are used to. I miss seeing their faces and their smiles too. Sometimes I can tell there smiling by their eyes they twinkle sometimes and the lines in the corner of their eyes modulate a little bit. And of course when they say something I can usually tell if they're smiling by their voice. Kind of weird though it's like wondering what they look like without the mask on. I had the feeling with a thought the other day I wonder if this is what the Muslims or whoever, those who walk around with their faces covered, when they communicate with each other all their lives. Do they have dreams of being in public and suddenly realizing that not wearing her masks? Like the traditional ubiquitous naked dreams. You know that dream you have when all of a sudden you realize you're at the supermarket, or at the office are in class and your totally naked. I wonder at the masks of become the new naked dream phenomenon.

So I totally built mask wearing into my lifestyle now. I don't know if ever go back to going out in public without face coverings. Interestingly, it served like just another level or layer of the human being to hide behind safe that it might be I don't know how good it is in the long run…

Welcome Back

It's really funny how life works, at least for me, you never know was just around the corner. Also concerned and a bit perplexed and a little annoyed when Annette my home health professional as well as housekeeper never came back from her scheduled vacation will more than a week ago maybe two weeks ago. In that. I have three different home health people the last being Jenna who is really kind of cool. I think I could really get into her as a home health person. She served me twice each time we learned little bit about each other and had a number of things in common. She's great to work with, take direction well and I think pretty dependable. I was beginning to think of her as the next long-term person.

As the week wore on I kind of expected that here's something from Annette but I did not and then yesterday in the afternoon I decided I better texture and see if she's still considering cleaning my apartment on Saturdays. To my delight I started getting texts indicating that she would be there or here this morning about 8:30 AM. I was relieved and surprisingly excited at the prospect of seeing her again. The apartment actually is in pretty good condition with the help of Jenna and myself trying to be somewhat responsible/proactive. I was delighted again when Annette knocked on the door and appeared this morning ready for work. She was clearly excited to see me as I was her and we hugged and delighted to be in each other's company once again. Then she dropped an interesting bomb and that she informed me that she would be showing up on Monday to start my home health service again. I was a bit perplexed to say the least but Annette assured me she talked with the company boss who had rehired her after the “job and not worked out”. I did not pursue what happened and felt somewhat conflicted with her coming back as my attendant. Since I'm working through the agency I kind a step back from any ownership of the attended the attendant management. Clearly, Annette was was totally excited to be back helping me. Since, I had Jenna only twice and there were some issues cropping up some that would have to be managed I am more than willing to go back to status quo with Annette with the knowledge that she may or may not be still actively looking for employment elsewhere. I think this experience been somewhat cautionary for her before she jumped ship again. The win-win part for me is that I don't have to train somebody else if I can indeed keep Annette as my home attendant I still have the capability of knowing Jenna is still in the stable of attendant care folks and she might be available if and when I need either backup for when Annette may not be available or when Annette decides to jump ship again and swim for greener oceans.…

3 Degrees Of Glory

These weird chairs showed up in the laundry today I think they look like penguins.. They got stuck in the first floor laundry because it was first floor it would never happen on the other floors…

The LDS faith in one of its many facets has an end-of-life category that has three tiers. Depending how one lives their life depends on where they land after judgment, whatever judgment is. The most exalted status or level is called Celestial, the second status Terrestrial and the least desired is Telestial and boy can I go on forever on these three areas in a blog but that is not what today's blog is about except for general reference.

Yesterday as you know was Coffee group. We tend to prattle just about everything one where the other but I have to admit I was a bit shocked and surprised when the conversation turned to first the amount of hospitalizations and deaths of folks at the facility in the last couple weeks and secondly how the last round of fatalities of all been located on the third floor. Then I was furthermore shocked when the ladies started openly talking about how great it was to live on the upper floors and not having to live on the ground floor. There's three of us who live on the ground floor and we always sit together at coffee and we looked at each other little quizzical and was kind perplexed at the conversation. When I first moved in I thought it be kind of cool live on the third floor and be able to look out over the park in the able to have him overcome of privacy when out on the deck if you're careful. I felt the same way on the second floors too. Let me refresh on the ground floor, where I am, there is the front office with the building manager and the common room where any functions take place. The common room opens up to the patio where the gas grill is located. On the second floor there is a quite nice library. I love the library it really has a number of great volumes not only of classics but trashy paperbacks, some science fiction. There's always something to read in the library. There's also a computer room that has three terminals and a nice printer. There's also a craft room which is been taken over by puzzlers which drives you crazy great waste of the room. And there's a candy machine and a junk machine, you know candy bars, chips and stop. On the third floor there's this great media room with a large screen pre-flatscreen device with a number of DVDs real live videotapes. There's oversize couches and a couple of high tables in the back. Such is in the top of the building is vaulted ceilings with Windows at the top. Which really quite a cozy place and should be used more but nobody really knows how to work the big screen and knows exactly what streaming technology might be available. Really needs to be upgraded but it's kind of nice when people come to visit me sometimes we escape up to the upper room. The reason that I explain all this is that from yesterday's conversation at coffee I got the distinct impression that these people actually think we might be somewhat better off than the lower levels and especially the ground floors like me. I don't see it that way aside from the building doing a complete pancake like in the earthquake I think I have a better option of getting out of the building in emergency then the old coots on the second and third floors. I did not bring up any of these obvious putdowns know I was somewhat tempted and maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe I was being a little thin-skinned.

Each floor has their own laundry, I think I've rattle on about this before, and I have used the second-floor laundry before when somebody on the level that I live on had already grabbed the front end loader which I use. I would go all the way to the third floor (the celestial floor) if I needed to but luckily I doubt there would ever be a time when all the front loader should be in use at the same time. I do remember however, even though nothing was said, a kind of got the fisheye when I rolled out of the laundry with my basket of clean clothes …

Sitting Pretty

I was speaking with a friend of mine who owns a home health agency, actually the owner of the agency that provides my home health attendance. He was at my apartment the other day providing services to me because my regular person unexpectedly quit the agency. Anyway, we were speaking and somehow we got around to people at risk with the Covid virus. Of course, everyone's at risk but there are those that are more risk than others and people were seniors and people with disabilities are double whammy and of course I'm that person and there's a target on the back of my head. Having said that, I understand I need to be carefully understand that I need to wear my mask one about and I understand that the smartest thing is not to go out but to stay inside, at my apartment for however long this break outlasts. I've been good actually. I have amazed myself at how long I stayed at the apartment and I'm willing to stay longer but sometimes I just have to head out.

For a number of weeks I've been toying with the idea that I need more sticks to fashion hooks and helping devices. I'm not trying to get these devices out to other people I just want to have more reaching and gathering capability. Actually I just want to feel like I'm creating something again. I've been really pressed with the dowels that I found it Lowes last year. I miss actually working down a piece of wood into a hook or whatever. I am glad that I found dowels especially the 0.625” x 72” dowels. They're perfect, not only ability to be a pretty good hook but they make a great reacher and bed making device. I know that sounds strange and I'm kind of still amazed that I figured this out but it really helps in moving the pillows, sheets and blankets around on the bed and fashioning them into neatness at least acceptable for me. The 72 inch reach is incredible. I reached things all over the apartment especially the upper shelves were the best tricks I found is that I can lie in bed and reach the switch for the overhead light. I discovered this last winter when the lightbulb exploded over my bed. You can do a lot with 72 inches in length. I have fashioned the material I use for gripping and holding. The dowel which is 72 inches is lined not get strong enough that I can use it to lift my legs up over my other leg when I dress. The 72 at dowels perfect for my needs. I bought a couple last time I went to Lowe's. One I cut into smaller lengths which worked pretty good run needs the other I just kept at the 72 inches. The last couple weeks like I said I've become aware that I need to have more dowels. My brother was over the other day and I almost asked him if he would consider dropping by the store and picking up some but he's so busy I just couldn't bring myself to ask. I learned my lesson when I tried to incorporate the task of purchasing these dowels to my home health person on that before she vanished. She just couldn't figure it out. Like everything else it's best to do it yourself and today I did that. I can't believe I've drug my feet this long. But, I got to the bus stop jump the bus built with a grumpy bus driver and got myself dropped off at Lowe's store. I found I needed and got myself back to the bus stop in time for the next bus outbound and took me home.

72 inches of course is 6 feet and the sticks are at a slant as I hold them over my shoulder so I am well within the ability to ride the bus home. I still might ask my brother to pick up more sticks at a future time but right now I'm sitting pretty…

Grim Reminder

The place of I live in, Plymouth View Apartments is a senior living project. Y'all know that. It's not assisted living or long-term care. It's an apartment complex, plain and simple, granted it's for seniors those 62 and older. If you live in here you go take herself are be able to make arrangements for own self-care – – self-care is not one. I'm fine with that actually I was just about five is anything but I needed to find a place to live quickly. So without prelude that should not be a surprise when people hear at the apartment complex kickoff, expire, check out or whatever euphemism one wants to use for die. Therefore it should not be a shock when folks do pass away. Anyway last week to the newer apartment owners “moved on” the quite possibly better housing. Both of these tenants were males. One was a retired ski instructor which I thought was an excellent shape and the other was in morbidly obese fellow who was able to get around under grave difficulty but was still able to meet the living requirements here at the complex. That was a little peculiar at least to me possibly because I am a male that these two folks were males of the species. And statistically I should not be overly shocked but males of the species because of their various histories and because of the hard labor that many males have experienced the bodies are just worn out so again it kind of makes sense. But still a shock. They didn't die here on station there carted off to the big red box died a few days later at the hospital.

This morning I was in the manager's office looking for some fiber tape to reinforce the spine Of the Stephen King novel, paperback, I'm currently reading. So, talk about Stephen King naturally led to discussion of the two latest decedents of our fine establishment. Annie, who is like our on-base social worker, Started talking about DNR's and wherever not these two folks have them on their doors. I of course was confused. I've included a picture but on the back back of the door of everyone's apartment Space is a nice plastic sleeve just perfect to keep reminders for folks who tend to forget. I use mine all the time I keep my past to the senior center across the street (there's a card they want to swipe every time I go in there for the critic keeps a record) I also keep coupons for free coffee across the street at the coffee shop and I keep payment for my housekeeper in this plastic thing that the housekeeper can pick up the cash when she leaves. Today I found out that what that plastic sleeve hanging on my doors for I should have my DNR in their or the document that house my medical needs, pharmaceutical regimens like I said any do not resuscitate orders finally want honored! Holy moly that's grim but I guess makes sense even if I didn't live here in this prelude to the antique shop. It's just that you just hate being reminded all the time that the Grim Reaper is standing by the gate to the apartment complex smoking cigarettes until time to do his job…

Tuesday Afternoon

Don't you hate those little buggers in the back your mind that tend to bug you until you do something about them? My bugger right now is the knowledge that I need to suit up and go across the street to my market to pick up a few things. I'm not desperate because I have more than enough fixens for dinner And really I have one banana left which I will eat tomorrow morning. This of course means that I must do the market, for sure, on Wednesday. I sort of got into a food preparation thing this morning as well as putting some order to my freezer box in the refrigerator. I'm about out of food that I prepared, so that I make that I eat throughout the week. I need to make some more now to replace what I've tossed out. One of the major ingredients that I use is celery. I use it particularly in a rice dish I call Frank. If you search for “Frank” I think somewhere in my posts to this blog I have the recipe which calls for celery. I'm also on another solid binge so I need other items besides celery to include green peppers, broccoli, cucumber, yellow onion, red onion anything and everything that gives a good green salad a crunch. I was already the head over to the market earlier today but got sidetracked and all of a sudden I realized it was 3 o'clock time to listen to Market Place On NPR which I do every weekday or try to. I understand the local affiliate does a rebroadcast of the shower for evening at 7 PM but there's other things I need to be doing at that point in time. So now it's almost 4 o'clock and I'm really sorry lost my urge to do the shopping for today. I've got enough stuff, like I indicated earlier, to get. But I made the mistake when visiting with my neighbor across the hall. Billie indicated she needed a couple things to the market and of coarse I volunteered. She needs bread, milk and eggs, the standards. Now I'm wondering if she still needs those items and how bad she needs those items.

I think if I'm quick and single-minded. I have a history of wandering once I get to the market and looking at everything that I don't need. If I could just keep my focus to grab the things that are essential and better on my list I can be in and out in less than an hour's time if I can do that I can get the items I need and what items Billie might need and still get back five in time for the local news to begin its local droning. Even though I don't appreciate the local news and the national news I feel somewhat committed to watch and evaluate and get through that two-hour block of news time. So, going to suit up grab a big brown basket head across the street just because it's Tuesday…

Regrets

They seem to have come early this year, the hot afternoon winds which blows relentlessly from the South. Temperatures in the upper nineties And it's hot almost unbearably hot if you're a teenager Sorry Throwing hay from the ground level up to the wagon then from the wagon to the stack. This morning there were clouds outside my window and even know I knew there'd be no rain seem to be promising.

When you're moving hay, morning is the best time, at least that is how I think. When dad was home are often before the workday began (his regular 9-to-5 type job) he would roust us out of bed and we would drive the tractor and wagon out to the hay fields and bring in the load before dad left for work. I think he knew that without his ramrod supervision anymore significant “hating” would not get finished until his return. And bringing in the hay Was my brother Ross's and my responsibility. At eight or nine years old the concept of loading hay into the wider was almost overwhelming. Ross would've been 13 or 14 and his focus in life was not loading hay. We tried however, throwing the pitchforks in the back of the rack and then Ross firing up the little International Cub tractor And we would bounce out to the field to the mounds of hay. You might remember from posts a few thousand posts ago regarding the process of cutting the hay and raking them into mounds to dry until we came by with our wagon pitchfork those mounds into the government and wagon. We are small farm, a very small operation. When the hay had cured enough we look at the hay onto the wagon. It was hot and dry and you got covered in hay dust. We usually went between two rows stopping at the top of 4 mounds. Then we would attack the mound with our pitchfork get a good fork size that carried over and throw it on the hay wagon. It was not uncommon to see a family of mice scurry for the lives when we lifted the mounds of hay. Our cat Midnight, before it's Unfortunate quadruple amputation and headshot, was usually with us looking for said vermin. In the early morning, especially after waking and a quick breakfast moving the hay was not so bad and dad would leave usually after helping unload the first rack of hay. Then my brother and I were out on our own. As the day moved on and the heat increased our relationship seemed to deteriorate. The harassment I would receive escalated from just verbal agitation to physical aggression. Older brothers are experts at psi warfare And I could be readily brought to tears. Even though we had only about 10 acres of hay from a nine-year-olds point of view the job seem never-ending. If we were lucky we would get maybe three fourths of a load and then take off for the bridge or would swim away the afternoon. We had every intention to get back after a “quick” swim but would be terrorized when we look up and see my dad's van pass on Boise Avenue on his way home. My brother and I would mount our bikes And race home If I my dad out in the field, by himself, throwing hay onto the wagon where we left it. He wouldn't say anything, I think he was too angry we were just each (my brother and I) grab our pitchfork and begin throwing hay out of the rack.

I think it broke my dad's heart that Ross and I were not cut out to be farm boys. Maybe it's because we're adopted and we didn't have that agrarian gene wandering around in ourselves. I think back and shiver with a little guilt of how painful that must've been for my dad. I wish it could have been different, I would like to think five had the way back machine I would go back and work harder to load more hay and to be more responsible But loading hay I guess there are no second chances and the hot wind blows on a July afternoon looking out my window…

Low Rider Signage

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One of the best things about living on Redwood Road is that there's never any dull moments. Granted, you must also deal with the fact there is very sold any quiet moments as well. A couple times a year or should I say summer there is a great more as literally hundreds of motorcycles raced down Redwood Road heading north to the interstate for one of their epic rides. It's true. Salt Lake has a couple of motorcycle clubs, real motorcycle clubs not just rich guys who can afford flashy Harley-Davidson's but folks whose nomenclature club is a cover word for gang. Anyway, Redwood Road is a main thoroughfare and they love the noise. I'm also fortunate enough to little couple blocks from a major fire station. This place is beautiful, modern, sleek architecture like a wild animal waiting to pounce, thrust open its doors lives little red vehicles scream down the street with a north or south doesn't matter or even East or West. These fire engines seem to love thrashing the silence all weekend long particularly after 8 PM. Once again doesn't matter I have never cease to be amazed at how well the human body adapts to its surroundings. Now, it's very rare that I even attend to the noise engulfing the streets outside our gated community. I lived through all that commotion with no problems with everyone still while I get flat-out irritated some little teenager or other punk makes a big deal of taking the mufflers off their vehicle or their installation of glass pack mufflers that seem to roar like a jet engine, annoy so loud it actually annoys the nerve endings a least mine. It's life on Redwood Road and I like it.

That's why I was amazed last week (I forget what day could went Tuesday possibly Wednesday) at 5:48 PM when also been shared a giant crash and see a flash. I wasn't totally asleep but again I was not totally awake either. The digital clock beside my bed began flashing and reset itself to zero hours. There have definitely been a major event in my neighborhood. I have to admit I was a little shaken up and I almost considered that I should get up at least find my throw on room in case I have to Exit the property quickly. I was surprised I was not hearing any alarms going off in the building. Our building/property is adjacent to a major filling station operation, you know lots the gas pumps as well as a small shopping area inside for junk food. I had visions that perhaps one of the pumps had exploded and if so were we goners on the side of the wall? Nothing happened. I was surprised Not to be hearing any of those whales from emergency vehicles just down the street.I remember now was Thursday, coffee group day. I got up got dressed and had quite a bit time to kill silent next-door to the quickie Mart and I asked them about what it happened earlier in the morning. One guy didn't know anything look like he'd been sleeping but the other guy perked up and said “oh yeah some truck made a wide turn out there on Redwood Road and took out the sign at the Arctic Circle. I looked over and sure enough Rocky Mountain power trucks were all over the fast food joint cleaning up the mess from the crash. A couple days later, Friday when I checked in with the front office were all huddled around Jennifer's terminal I had the distinct feeling there looking at porn. Actually what they had done was gone through and check all the security cameras, and we have a lot of security cameras, and sure enough they had the footage of the accident. That was amazing the guy made a wide turn took out the sign smashed his vehicle into something which made the big noises.

I noticed later on the day they got most of the things cleaned up. What was kind of funny was that the did not replace the long poles that the Arctic circle sign was on and now they have just short versions. Maybe that's just the get by enable replace the uprights later on right now they've got a low rider sign…

Milk Run

I don't know if you can read this or not but it's notification on my food bank door indicating they will be closed until or about 27 July! This is not going like freak me out or anything that's not like I rely on the food bank except for another form of socialization and sometimes getting some interesting items to consume.

It's hot now, dangerously hot for others and I guess for me too if I was not careful. It's not that I'm overly careful out in the sun, I'm just not out in the sun was nowhere to go aside from grocery shopping which falls under essential except for me which is more shopping is recreational. A couple of weeks ago I realized that my milk supply was getting low. I got hooked on these boxes of milk that used to come in the People's food boxes (a number of people here get food boxes from the food bank once a month and all the boxes have large cartons of milk which the people don't want and they give away on the sharing shelf). They are either not packing milk like they used to our folks are getting wise and either keeping them up themselves are getting it to other people who might want it all I know is I'm not getting it like I used to. The milk is great, I may have even written about it before I'm too lazy to go check, the liquid is hermetically sealed and has a shelf life of six months or so probably longer but to be safe. This stuff is ideal for camping packing to work lunch are school lunch for those at college in such. It's a great idea I cannot believe it's not offered in grocery stores around here. The milk I get comes in quart sizes And handily stores in the refrigerator. The milk has a great flavor and lasts a long time in the fridge. I've only recently started purchasing the product. I would get enough from people getting rid of their milk that would carry me through the month but not any longer. I the dollar a box it's a deal. When I could not find the product anywhere in the Valley here I went to the Internet and did find the product there but at three or four dollars more than the cost is through the Family Dollar. Also, I can get 2% plus whole milk plus the usual 1% that we get from the food bank. I got five boxes I'm set for a while.

I've learned that it's not wise to rely on milk from the food bank on Saturday mornings. First it is catch as catch can some days is milk other days there is not. On those days that there is milk you have to move quick. The only reason the milk is at the food bank is because it's fastest expiration date. Too often I've gone to use the milk the next day and the milk is gone bad. But I'm really digressing. This morning I found a crate to put on my lap to put my hall in from the food bank. When I came around the corner I noticed the backend of the building was not open as usual – – this is where the produce section of the food bank is. I got to the front door and it was covered with these pink notifications. Someone in the food bank staff has tested positive for corona. Food bank will be closed for at least 14 days targeting the 27^th as the opening date. That's okay I've got everything I need especially milk. I don't rely on the food bank other than a word form socialization and gratification for getting a deal. However not today and not next week either.I'm just worried about those folks who really do need what little food they can get from the food bank/pantry…

Caving In

I'm caving in on myself. I know that sounds weird and it is weird but it's true. This is a physical piece of enlightenment that I've had to accept over this last year. I know I've written about this in the past regarding my dear friend Barbara Toomer, now deceased, as she got older and older. I couldn't figure out why this was happening to her or what was happening to her and now I wish had been more thoughtful and supportive. It is not like I was not supported by always tried to encourage Barbara in her endeavors to save the world especially the disability world. But, I did notice this physical phenomenon. I saw this with my friend Greg Naccarato as well as Deborah Mair my former boss. Now I'm seen it within me. I am literally caving in on myself. Perhaps worse is how old this makes me look.

I have to admit my level of vanity is much more intense than I ever thought. I want to look good just for the mere fact of looking good. I looked in the mirror I don't recognize that person or body. My second wife took great satisfaction in saying that I looked good or that I was in that category of people who think they look good no matter what they really might look like. I did not believe her then and only recently have come around to that line of thinking. I do like the way I look even now in this advancing form of physical senility (that even inaccurate not real statement or category or whatever?). I'm continually working out, every day on my bike, pushing my rickshaw and even now I'm beginning to play around lifting dumbbells that I have in my room. I know this is not going to build body mass backup especially muscle mass by like to play with the idea that continued exercising, dieting and food management can at least slow the process to some degree. And then the back of my mind there's a little homunculus shouting “great honk you fool 70 damn years Old! What do you think? When did I get old? I can't believe I'm this much of a cliché but I am and if it weren't so classically comic I think I would be devastated beyond repair.

But every day, little bit by little bit, I sneak in front of my full-length mirror and gaze at my body and except what I can and try to forget that which I cannot. My skin is now sagging and it's got that weird texture of a cross between reptilian old and foam rubber. I'm thankful for any hint of my body remembering phrases of poetry from my youth and generically trying to re-create. This is truly appreciated. This morning I broken a new home healthcare person. She is delightful and I think I will enjoy working with her for however long. Interesting however she is definitely a one hour person whereas last couple of care people to let me fudge a little bit of the timeline. That's okay. She was amazed and impressed that I actually get myself up in the mornings into my chair before she gets her. I'm impressed that I do that and I'm totally thankful that I am able to do so. Every day I murmur a small prayer of thanks that I've gotten through another night independently And I have not totally caved in on myself…

Another Bump In The Road

It's a shame that have already used the title “Sucker Punch”But that's the only fitting description I can give to the events of today. It's not so bad that I would call it a black Thursday but I'm certainly happen to step back and examine my options.

Actually it's been a pretty good day. Sunshine, heat, fairly adequate sleep and a good coffee group. It's Thursday which means that's the day I take care of myself in the morning. I'm so fortunate to be able to get myself up and out of bed, shaved in ready for the day totally independent – – I am so damn lucky! Anyway, I'm a little concerned as I go about my morning progress. Annette, my home health staff, is going to be off tomorrow but she's made arrangements with the agency I use to have her shift covered. I guess this is no big deal and it's getting easier to deal with. It still means having to work with a new person who doesn't know me but again I feel that hey, this is just for one day and things go back to normal on Monday when Annette gets back from her family function at Bear Lake. Seriously, this is a good thing it will give me somebody trained as a backup for when Annette is gone again. These things happen right? After all, I work with an agency they supply my staff, I can't expect Annette is going to be here forever after all she's got a given me fair warning about getting her “history scrubbed” so she can go on and get a better job and make better money. So, having preluded all this And trying to be as proactive as possible I call the agency to make sure that I will have coverage tomorrow morning. I've learned my lesson especially with this industry – – you got a be proactive you've got to cover your ass.

The first call I make of course is over lunch hour and nobody's in over lunch hour but only from a message and get on with my day. This morning of course I have a mishap and dump everything off one of my workstations on the floor and so I'm in the middle of trying to pick everything up in my phone rings. It's the agency. Good if nothing else I know there in and now be able to get back with them immediately following picking up the mess. My phone indicates a message is been left so I figure what the hell I listen to the message (I don't really mess around with messages most the time I just call the phone number back) but during the phone message I learn that I've been assigned a new person! And that new person will be starting on Monday morning!! I kind of freak! What about tomorrow and what about Annette, Annette never indicated to me that she found the position and was leaving the agency. Everything She said gave me the impression that she will be back on Monday with pictures to show me of her vacation and we would start just as usual. This of course did force an immediately call to the agency. The little batch of brightness branch of the phone, Camille or whatever, reinforce the fact that my person was gone and she wasn't coming back but the new person is just as good.

I of course feel the sucker punch, betrayal, what the hell? Then I have to stand back “sit” and go with the flow. I can't believe and that didn't give me a heads up even if it's as Camille says that Annette just found out about her new job and give immediate resignation. I hate the idea of training a new person but maybe this is best. Annette as well as be in my healthcare staff she's also been my housekeeper on Saturdays. I don't know if this will continue. This kind of panics me but what I have learned through numerous trade outside this is that everything goes on in that I need to go with the flow and there will be a Friday morning and a Monday morning and my life will get back to some form of normality this is just another bump in the road.

Bananarama Dingdong

I hate change, you all know that, I've bitched enough about it. But as you also know changes the only constant. Good better or in different my market on the corner from my apartment complex was a Fresh Market in the last five months this market has been going through a change. Is been purchased by Macy's not the big department store but I think the small family local chain. I'm not sure but they seem to be a step higher than Fresh Market I don't know if that's good or bad. I'm sure it's open season for raising prices on everything but that's just the conservative in me talking and I'm sure. So all spring and summer I've been watching this market bootstrap itself into looking more like high-end groceries.

They put in new frozen isles with really nice doors, These doors are large and wide but they don't lock open like the others did. This is sort of inconvenient for me anyway. I had to stop somebody to hand-me-down and item that was up quite high in the frozen section plus we also had to have me something else because the door would not lock openThat sure looks nice though. And of course they moved everything around them slowly getting the new way of the store down pretty decently. Everything looks suspiciously the same except for a few differences the pharmacies in a different place I suppose easier for consumers to get to and out of quickly. The new pharmacy is much closer to the doors. The deli counter disappeared but then returned It's different now by don't know how that's okay I don't use it much anyway.

The produce is mainly the same except one small thing actually and I'm not trying to make it a big deal but the more that I think about it marks really didn't irritate me. The best parts about this market I've enjoyed is the fruit section and particularlytheir bananas which seem to be forever on $.59 a pound. I've been making a priority in my life to have a banana at least once a day. Today I was greeted with what looked like a scene from Close Encounters Of A third Kind

where the bananas used to be piled Where I could easily reach in and dig out a bunch of green bananas that I could take home and what ripen all week, there was a inverted something that looked like the mothership from said movie but it was decorated with bananas. No longer was the boxes of green bananas available all you had what was available but was hanging on the inversion banana monstrosity. I just sat there and gaped with my mouth open to one of the guys that work in that section asked me if I need a hand. For nothing else better to say I asked him if they are planning to leave this banana in thing for the rest of time and all eternity and he said yes. You could see I was dismayed and he was quite familiar with my asked if he could get me some selected green bananas from the back, I said yes. Seriously, one more thing in the progress of gentrification making this store non-accessible release the banana section non-accessible to people were short and use wheelchairs for mobility just makes you want to grind my teeth. I guess I can make some complaints to management but I don't think it will make any difference their goal is to look trendy. I get the impression that don't want to seniors and disabled shopping at their store through shooting for the young upper-class shopper is slowly going to take over this neighborhood one street of the time…

Oops

This is an unintentional selfie. I guess I knew I was going to be in the image but that was not my intention. This morning as I was doing my daily routine of pumping my hand bike I noticed a little commotion across the driveway under “my” tree. The new reader must understand I've adopted a tree on the other side of the drive to the back parking in my apartment. The tree resides on city/County land a park. I glanced up and saw one of the ruddy lawnmowers that park maintenance guys like to see him around on. I knew today was a grass cutting day because of all the noise and that's okay I had my tablet on and was listening to whatever the noon show is. I often listen the Fresh Air which usually airs at 1 PM here in Salt Lake. Anyway, I look up and the lawnmower looks like it's wedged between the fence and the lawn. And sure enough that was the case. It's not like I was waiting for this to happen but I always wondered every time I saw these guys/kids zooming around on these industrial lawnmowers what happens when they get out of control?

The incident was not dramatic or tragic. There is no staff personnel flying feet overhead like a drawing from the Sunday comics. Something that happened and the lawnmower casually slid down the side of the hill and lodged between the fence in the hill. Part of the cacophony I heard was the poor lad trying to power himself out of his predicament. He of course, with the more power he used revving his engine and pop in the clutch was only getting him deeper and deeper in the wedge. Finally, I saw defeat in his body language as he pulled himself out of the pilot seat and walked away. I hadn't really started my regimen yet been thought to myself if I don't take a picture of this I will regret my action or inaction. So I am strapped my gloves reposition my legs and grabbed my camera and took off out the back door turning the corner to see the lad had returned with an elder maintenance guy, someone who'd been around the block a couple times. I initially thought about taking the image from my bedroom window or even from the patio that I thought instead venture on to the sidewalk or even better the driveway right in front of the tree. They wished I had acted sooner when there is nobody in the area especially on the lawnmower but now there was. In fact, I heard the kid may comment that “hey there's one of the guys from the apartment complex…” I pretended not to hear them sure the thought I was deaf anyway. I took some innocuous images of the building in the parking lot. I took images like I was taking purposeful images of my apartment – – which I was. That was when I got the idea for to take a selfie I could incorporate the troubled equipment in the background. I didn't feel as being too covert but I did think I was pretty clever.

I went back to my hand pumping and in the few minutes I noticed a nondescript white utility truck that was obviously a county vehicle coming up alongside the wedged lawnmower. Obviously, it was the old guy, probably the foreman of the they call them these days “field manager”. He was the guy who knew how to do the problem-solving as he was older than everybody else haven't seen it all and sure enough in less than five minutes he had the lawnmower hooked up to the back of the truck and he gently pulled forward in the lawnmower was free. The kid whose job it was to mow lawn walked back to his grass covered steed and his supervisor walked around the truck shaking his head and pulled himself in the cab of the truck and headed back to the shop…

Robo Calling

This is my senior center, I guess it's my senior center, I don't know what else to call it. As the senior center that's right across the street from the front door of my apartment complex here in Taylorsville Utah.Taylorsville senior center not much different A is not much different than the Murray Senior Center the first senior center but I tried to become involved with after retiring. I'm sure there's a number of blogs regarding my involvement with that senior center. Anyway, this center isn't much different. A great idea which has fallen short all it could be. A senior center that is just a quasi-government agency ran by quasi-government people giving out Quasi-services which in general people do not want-At least I do not want the services and always disheartened me when I go in the building for any other reason than for the senior center.

I'm not sure if this post is about senior centers or Robo calls or the far reaches of the Covid crisis. Of course since March our senior center, here in Taylorsville, has been shut down. I suspect there's a skeleton crew of staff that continue to work behind the locked doors. I see vehicles out the parking lot. But because of social distancing particularly how important quarantine/isolation is for seniors the senior centers across the state have been closed. What's interesting to me however and albeit, a bit frustrating is the fact that at least once a week (and it seems a whole lot more) I get a Robo call. The computer generated voice asking me if everything is okay. Like it cares. And is not a real big deal and I suppose it's a good deal because I think there are people who really respond to such impersonal contacts but not me. The recording goes through its spiel, it's the voice of the director of the local senior center indicating their reaching out and making contact with the names on the membership of the senior center. The best part is the end where it says if anyone needs any assistance or help to call the number listed which is a great idea! I'm sure the number actually works and if somebody really really really needed assistance they would get something. However for me, whether I'm strapped up in my Velcro gloves and attached to my arm bike or if I'm in the middle of making a salad or dinner and I break what I'm doing in a mad dash to answer the phone I'm greeted by the Robo voice. This just Freaks me out. It's a good thing that the Robo call as if it was a human being on the other end of the phone of yellow at the time. And the Covid 19 call from the senior center Is basically to gather information. And now that I'm thinking about it the Covid 19 the call might actually just come from the county, which is the same as the senior center but different.

The phone starts making its noise, it doesn't jingle anymore I've installed the least offensive ring tone I could find, and then if I am lucky enough, and break what I'm doing, and that's of the phone I get so burned up and frustrated to find this is not a real call. If the messages on my cell phone I just delete it if it's an actual RoboCop call I just exit the calls quickly as I can wish I could reach around and unplug the mainline system that gives this silly little program life. Somewhere in animation land there's a little Robo character whose job it is Make contact with seniors. It's probably cute little beast like Wally but is definitely of irritation. I'll just wait till the movie comes out to see how much or how adorable little Robo is oh wait a minute that means I would first have to go to a theater house that's actually openI don't think that's good to be for some time…

A Knock At The Door

One of my favorite scenes from the Hobbit Is the knock at the door when the dwarves keep showing up at Bilbo's home. Something totally unexpected which totally shakes up Bilbo's life/world. Today I feel I have a similar experience. The day after the Fourth of July and I'm relaxing in my apartment contemplating cutting the watermelon that I purchased for the Fourth of July which I'd never got around to cutting. I just finished doing a word puzzle and was about ready to head in the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. I'm one of those folks who seldom answers the door I usually just shout “Come in!”. Then astoundingly I hear a voice I had not heard for years saying “hi, it's me Kell!”, With that the door opened and in stepped my old friend Kelly or KC. I wasn't shocked or amazed that seemed natural for KC to be standing in my kitchen holding a plate of something in his hand. Kelly didn't seemed anymore surprised that my reaction that I felt. It's all so natural.

I've written about Kelly before in this blog. He and I met when we were at University living in the same dormitory, Chafee Hall on the Boise State University campus. I don't know what drew us together but we became close on campus and later as roommates when we shared an apartment. It's hard to believe that more than 30 years more like 40. It's a long and winding road and we've lost track of each other often on. But we sort of kept a connection. We went our ways, had our families, careers, heartbreaks and reboots but we've always been there for each other if and when we needed each other. I've always appreciated that in my buddy, Kelly. We have grown old now, I much more so than he. He is the definite young guy when we are side-by-side. But here he was, smiling his KC smile holding a paper plate in his hand like a wayward home teacher. The paper plate held a piece of cherry pie and it was covered by another paper plate a hastily contrived platform for transporting precious cargo. Kelly had read yesterday's post in the blog, the one where I whined about cooking my individual meal for myself on the holiday and it broke his heart. Oh, he would never admit that it broke his heart but I know it did, he has a big heart. Kelly is another part of the state not terribly far away but far enough but he has kids along the Wasatch front which mandates him coming into this part of fallen Zion every once in a while. Kelly made time to go out of his way to bring me a piece of pie for my holiday meal. He knew I made enough sloppy Joe and potato salad to last for days so whenever he got my dessert it would be just right the following of my holiday meals. I am one lucky guy is no question about it.…

Remembering The Fourth

It's the end of what seems to of been a very long week. I wish I could say I've been so busy that I'm just exhausted but if anything is the opposite is true. I'm so tired of doing nothing that I'm exhausted. That's an interesting contradiction of terms I suppose but is true. I spent the week getting ready for today, my faux holiday picnic and I pulled the picnic off granted it was just me with one sloppy Joe, a couple tablespoons of potato salad Ice-T and the promise of watermelon. Plus, “Extraction” starring Bruce Willis on my Netflix sort of background noise.

The other night I was with my friend who lives across the hall, her name is Billie, Billie is older than I am and we often talk to my evening about the days events, books other people at the apartments. Last night I it was interesting she stopped me in the middle of a thought and asked me what I remembered was my best Fourth of July. I had to stop right there and think there was not one particular Fourth of July unless it was the Fourth of July where the National Guard had to 30 caliber machine gun set up on a tripod firing blanks and anyone who stood in line long enough to burst off a number of blanks. I thought that was great but I don't remember if it was the Fourth of July or 24 July. It was in Boise at the fairgrounds. If I to default to a individual Fourth of July I could not do it but I can't say there was a construct of a Fourth of July or perfect Fourth of July I remember. As you know, we lived on a farm and my dad was a sheet metal worker. We seem to work all the time even national holidays but there's something sacred about the Fourth of July and even though we might be in the middle of the first or second cutting of hay we would bring in one or two loads of hay then break for the Fourth of July did together down at Julie Davis Park in Boise. There we would meet up with my cousins, the Bassett's, Carpenters and cousins the Walls. This had to be in the late 50s early 60s of the last century. Before everyone aged out of innocence. Julie Davis Park is an ancient Park for Boise. The trees are stately and much of the park is canopied beautifully. They had the best playground with huge slides. All the staples were present potato salad, hot dogs or hamburgers, usually Kool-Aid are some cheap knockoff soda but it was fun. There was potato chips sometimes even Clover club, usually baked beans and other kinds of salads, cakes sometimes and of course watermelon. The grown-ups and the older kids put everything together we cousins take off to the playground and it's the best time. We eat and gorge ourselves out on potato chips will be only times I really can eat potato chips to my delight. If I'm lucky I get red Jell-O and Kool-Aid with ice.

After the meal, we cousins take off back to the playground, the old kids cleanup and my dad and Jim Bassett lay down and go to sleep, the take a nap right there in the park. Once a few times I see my dad take advantage of slack time with a nap. This seems like the whole world stopped for two or three hours but the two old guys finally wake up and work needs to be done in other places. Everything we brought is packed into the blue Ford station wagon we head off back to the farm to milk the cows for the evening milking and if my dad is really lucky that might be enough time to get in another load of hay.

That memory is of my best Fourth of July's. Soon after that things change as we headed into adolescence the whole world changed. Vietnam was a dark cloud on the horizon I was messing around with motorcycles and trying to be cool and everybody was growing up or getting old and we just didn't have time for family get-togethers much after that but that's what I remember most…

Like A Robber

What an interesting holiday configuration this year is, for the Fourth of July. Of course because the fourth is happening on Saturday this year the observed holiday is on Friday so all the working stiffs can have the day off. I get it, I understand, I used to be a working stiff norm just old retired and every day is a holiday. Be that as it may I have to admit I was pretty excited about Friday the the observed holiday but I have to admit I had to keep reminding myself that the fourth is actually tomorrow. Today felt like Saturday. I kept thinking I need to get the food bank and keep realizing that it's close this week had I wanted to get anything out of the food bank I should've gone on Wednesday no big deal however got enough to get me by. I'm doing one of those weird things that I do on a major holiday I'm knocking myself up preparing a meal like is having family over for a bunch of friends for some kind of holiday get-together which is not going to happen but I'm making the meal have a great time.

I've been meaning to get the Costco since Monday when Annette, home health person, showed me I was running desperately low on skin lotion. Annette has been very studious and making sure that I get lathered with lotion after every shower. Her attention has really made by legs look and feel a lot better. When I was at Costco a week or so ago I noticed they had lotion made up mind note to go back and get a set. So when I finished dicing the potatoes I purchased today and actually making the potato salad I decided I would sprint up to Costco which I did. I realized it was a holiday and that Utah transit Authority would be running their bus fleet on the holiday schedule which means that route 47 which takes very close to Costco runs on half an hour headways. Half an hour headways are not as convenient as 15 minutes but little planning and the store problem still I only had 20 minutes to get to stop to catch the inbound. Fortunately everything was in the captain's chair by the table I had a bit sure I had a backup catheters bags everything else that I needed for the trip. It's summer now so I'm wearing a cap, I made sure I had my bus pass and my wallet. When I left the apartment I had 10 minutes to get to the bus stop more than enough time. I was at the bus stop when I suddenly realized I didn't pack my mask! I've got three masks now I should keep one in my backpack but I don't. I've become quite conscious to wear her mask and feel quite naked and irresponsible when I don't. Well the only thing I could do was to pull my shirt up over my nose like a robber or Mort from bazooka Joe bubblegum wrappers. I still feel conspicuous.

I felt relieved when the bus pulled up in the driver was not wearing a cover. But then I noticed he had a basket his hand which he slipped on when you loaded me onto the bus. Not a whole lot of people are riding the bus the days , it's great, it's like having my own personal chauffeur. I was pleased the driver didn't say anything about not having a mask but I kept my robber appearance up all the way to Costco. Today's hot and I love it a great day to be traveling. I got the Costco and felt totally out of place I was the only one without a mask, I felt naked and as you know that's not a bad feeling but it is if it's going to make you feel like the great carrier of diseases. It must've shown in my face because one of the greeters asked if I wanted a mask and of course I did. In fact he gave me to one for backup. It's not a great mask like my black mask that Dianne gave me or the cloth mask that somebody else gave me somewhere along the line but it'll do it will give me the appearance of being compliant and sometimes that's the best you can hope for…

Rocker

I just delight when I find the item that I'd like has the actual name or category. Today I found that what I've formally called a rocker knife is actually a mezzaluna knife who would a thought that rocker knives had such a unique name?

So after yesterday's post I began thinking about the whole concept of sticking my old rocker knife and just what would the new rocker knife might run. When I thought about having to contact my older brother about manufacturing to knobs and then setting them in place on the end of the rocker knife and the time and bother of such a project versus getting online and just ordering something and have it show up in five days or less. Of course, I searched just for (rocker knife) and what showed up among other things was the term mezzaluna. I was fascinated ! Not only did I learn a new term but I also saw that the very nice I was considering we having would cost me less than five dollars!! Plus there is a beautiful stainless steel version that has no wooden handles, the complete rocker knife is stainless steel and beautiful. Granted that life is 2 inches shorter than the knife I'm talking about replacing but the stainless steel knife itself is less than $15. I know this sounds decadent but I can have both.

I use my mezzaluna knives on a daily basis whether it's coming up jalapeno peppers for my morning burrito chart stop slicing and dicing said burrito into nifty little bite-size pieces which I spread the jalapenos on over which I cover with crispy Chinese noodles the brand I use is La Choy(I think it's nifty to mix cultures in my foods). Then of course the mezzaluna is ideal for cutting pizzas. They come in all shapes and sizes. I would really like to get a large knife but the 9 inch mezzaluna knife I'm considering will do the job just right. I even use it to cut watermelons. However, if I had my druthers I would get the huge mezzaluna. There is a great little restaurant equipment shop in the Valley that sells them fairly cheap. After spending time on this research project I suddenly began to feel quite excited about placing my order for not one but two mezzaluna's. I have not placed the order yet I'm too busy getting ready for the Fourth of July. I've done most of the shopping except for running up to Walmart to get a watermelon and possibly a bag of root beer Popsicles the two stick kind. The weather report states it's going to get hot again – – which I'll believe when I see/feel – – but I can hope. I think I've made just enough room in the freezer for the frozen delicacies of summer. I can get 18 root beer Popsicles are a bag of 18 banana flavor or a mixture. I think I would like to start out the root beer, 18 of them.

I know it's only me I'm planning on cooking for on the Fourth of July. I also know that I might even peter out of even producing the meal but I figure if I have all the items I need who knows if you cook it they might come…

Today I ordered two

Letting Go… Or Not!

I have a difficult time letting things go. I think I've talked about holding on to pieces of clothing that I really like until the clothes are basically rags. I have to watch myself closely all right I do this with everything. Even now I feel terribly sorry for who has to clean up whatever I leave behind when I pass. There'll be all kinds of pieces of writing Plus other physical things that I've just held onto for no good reason. This is particularly true with tools those pieces of equipment I use on a daily basis to get by everything from steel to sticks. I sometimes think that my sticks have souls of Their Own and it's hard for me to get rid of them. So, I just keep repairing them until finally there's so little left I just throw it away. I know these are inanimate objects but they're just so personable to me I think I have a problem.

I really enjoyed cooking and I don't know if it's the product I am cooking or if it's the process of preparing the item I'm cooking. This is really kind of strange for a Tetra or quadriplegic. Somebody with limited hand function enjoying something that takes oh, really, a lot of hand function. Over the years I've developed a couple of techniques which has allowed me to process pieces of food and I've enjoyed that even more importantly I have found and Diane has found tools that really let me enjoy the food preparation process. Perhaps my favorite tool in food preparation is the rocker knife. I've had a couple over the years. Diana's found me some really nice rocker knives cuz I really now would be lost if I did not have access to these. I frequent oh, well not as much as I'd like to, a couple of cooking stores that have all kinds of utensils and they have huge rocker knives. I think these knives are used in preparation of bread dough as well.as processing larger pieces of meat. I'm going to get one of these large rocker knives someday just to have. The image I have at the top of this posting is one of my favorite rocker knives which I've had for about 20 some years. Perhaps even longer I don't know when Diane got me this knife but I use it for just about anything or everything when it comes to heavy duty cutting. I have a couple of other smaller rocker knives that really help on smaller things like cutting up my burritos, dinner Meats and such but when I really have to do hardcore cutting like a pizza and I found recently watermelon I use this knife. The trouble is, as you can tell, is that this rocker knife has sort of falling apart. Over the years the wooden handles have essentially rotted away where are the handle hooks onto the knife. The first handle go off a couple of years ago and I kept putting it back on the blade as best as I could tell finally the handle kind of disintegrated. However, that was okay I can still use the rocker knife with the other handle in place. Recently however the other handle has started coming off to the point where unless I do something significant soon I will not be able to continue to use this very important kitchen tool. I thought about speaking with my brother, Carl, I think just about do anyting and have him turn a couple of pieces to be used for a handle and that way be able to keep the peace. But really you know what I need to do is just let the blade go and get a brand new rocker knife. This would make the most sense but something deep inside says at night is an old friend and you try to keep the old friend around as long as you can. So, forget the way and maybe I'll give my brother a call see if he can turn me a piece tour couple of pieces to help an old friend who another cutting season of watermelon who knows what else...