Monthly Archives: June 2024

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Affrayed

“Be not affrayed,” said the Angel, “and don’t get into fights.”

“So why do you have a sword?” said the little girl.

“Well,” said the Angel, hiding the sword behind their back, “people are affrayed and tend to behave when they see it.”

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: affray.

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Unclean

Housework is a slightly sensitive word for me today.

Sol Duc and I moved two days ago, from the Hilton Home2 Go (NOT recommended if you are long term and want to cook) to a furnished house.

Wonderful, right? Except the stove was all splattered with grease inside, the microwave grease and a dirty paper towel and the refrigerator was all fingerprints. Ick.

I called the rental person and he showed up with cleaning gear and did a cursory clean. I did the fridge. Then I started thinking. The only cleaning equipment I brought was new sponges, so I started washing out drawers and they are ALL dusty. This place was NOT cleaned. And the photograph is the grill in back: filthy AND there is no cleaning equipment. The two tables are built for someone taller than me, so I looked at a plastic table in the garage to use for a desk. There is a card table of cork in the garage. And behind the card table is mouse poop and a dead mouse. I return the card table and get out of there.

Now I am grossed out and annoyed. I contact my temp company and the rental person. “Has poison been used in the garage?” I ask, for Sol Duc’s sake. “And what about the yard?”

“No, no, no spraying. There has never been any evidence of pests there.”

“Well, there is evidence now.”

Right after our conversation, the Round Up truck arrives to spray weeds. Um, no. So I contact my temp company. The rental guy sets up a service to come clean. “Garage too, and I want everything pulled out from the walls.” Ok, there are cardboard boxes and stuff that belongs to the owners in the garage. Mouse heaven, honestly. And my impression is that this rental person is NOT going to tell the owners about the mice. I don’t trust him a bit now, so I only want them to clean when I am present, which means Wednesday at 6 pm. And there is no way they’ll finish the garage that night unless they are cursory. I want the floors and bathrooms cleaned. I have already done shelves and drawers. The stove racks aren’t clean.

I am NOT cleaning that grill. I am also NOT buying grill cleaning equipment. It is hella annoying.

I’ve always left places AT LEAST as clean as I found them. I think this rental person is not truthful. He said it’s the owner who has the weed spraying service, but then he should have said, “I don’t think so.” So there could well be rodent poison in the garage, he has no idea and won’t check.

Ick. Some people are really icky.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: housework.

Yeah, I am thinking of the scene in the second half of the song. Yep.

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Soldier on

Older
bolder
golder
told yer
moulder
soldier on

What is older? Anything and anyone older than me? At one point I have 5 women who are over 100 years old as patients. Two are 104. One is local indigenous tribe and tells me about white women moving to another pew if she sat down near them in church, back when she is in her twenties. I am apologetic at that visit because it is hospital week. Our pacific northwest hospital has chosen cowboys as the theme so being a bit oppositional defiant, I have braids with one feather hanging down. I swear that EVERY ONE of my indigenous patients comes in, including the 104 year old. I apologize, but they mostly seem amused by my rebellion.

They also influence me. Now when a 72 year old complains about being OLD, I say, “You are not old in my practice.” They look confused. I say, “I’ve had five people over 100 all at once, so you don’t get to complain about being old until you are 90.” People laugh, but they also usually look pleased. Over 100 is a LOT older than 72. When someone is over 100, I don’t really doctor them much. I might say, “This is what the book says we should do.” “I’m not doing that,” says my 101 year old. “Ok, cool.” I say. It’s hard to argue with.

And the joke about the centurian? What do you like best about turning 100? “No peer pressure.” Um, yes. I want them to tell ME what they’ve done to reach 100. The one thing that they all have in common is that they are all stubborn. I don’t know if stubbornness is what gets them there or if we just get more stubborn as we get older. Both, perhaps.

By stubborn, I don’t mean that they don’t learn and do new things. I had a woman in her upper 70s who I diagnosed with diabetes. At the next visit she said cheerfully, “I found these five apps for my phone. This one tells me the carbohydrates, this keeps track of the distance I walk, this one tracks my blood sugar.” I don’t remember what the other two did. This was a decade ago. She was retired from Microsoft. I wanted her to teach a class for me and all of my other diabetic patients.

My grandmother took classes in her 80s in lip-reading. She was going quite deaf and her hearing aides were not terribly helpful. She had videotapes and a rather shy teacher who would come to the house. She would glare at him and the videotapes. She attacked learning it like a piranha and was furious that she couldn’t learn it faster. I am like that too and my son learned some patience from the violin. He couldn’t play well immediately and found that practice works.

At what age is someone old? I think that’s moving target and the older we get, the older we think it is. I do think 104 is a lot older than 72. When does your culture think that people are old? My fierce grandmother said that she would look out her window. “I see little old ladies across the street and think, oh, poor things, they are so old. But then I think, OH, I am older then they are!” She died at age 93, fierce until the end and curious about death too. Her last words to my father were, “Look, Mac, I’m dying.” He said, “I’m looking,” and she stopped breathing. She was always curious and funny and could tease quite terribly and she and my mother butted heads and loved each other. She loved my father too, and me.

The photograph is my maternal grandmother, Katherine White Burling and it’s one I took.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: older.

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Moving

Sol Duc and I moved yesterday. The place we were in was billed as having a kitchen. It has a refrigerator, dishwasher, sink and microwave. NO STOVE! AUGH! I could check out a hot plate with one frying pan. I would describe this as a fast food kitchen. Ugh. I like to COOK. I also found a nice farm stand and bought a bunch of vegetables. The farmer said, “Thank your parents for raising you right with vegetables.” Heh. I will go back.

We are now in a small house, at the western edge of Grand Junction, with two bedrooms! Now my daughter can visit again. Sol Duc worried about the ceiling fans and hid under the bed for most of the day. This morning the fans are off and she is exploring. We have a fenced yard, though she won’t go out without harness, leash and me. We are in the southwestern corner of the development and there is another development across the street. It only has three houses, so we have lots of area to wander around. This am we are out at 5 am and can hear roosters from the farm kitty corner to us. And cows. We have a fabulous view of the mesas to the south and west and we are no longer surrounded by parking lot and highways. The local Coloradans seem to really love their pickups and especially loud ones. The valley acts like a bowl and highway sound travels a long way.

We both miss Elwha. Sol Duc was fairly panicked when I loaded the car and put her in the crate. I think she was afraid we were going to drive for three days again. She likes the house though and came out to purr last night. This morning she is exploring. I am keeping the second bedroom closed since my daughter doesn’t do very well with fur.

We still hope that Elwha turns up. Come back, Elwha!

I will go finish checking out today. I had to have Sol Duc out of the room we were in twice a week for an hour, so that they could come in to clean. That was fairly stressful for both of us. The instructions they gave us were confusing and it was eight days before they explained the rules. Which did not match the written rules. Anyhow, I am OUT OF THERE. Some of the staff were really nice. Others, well.

I had more stuff to move than when I arrived, all food. The new place is great though built for tall people. I am not tall. I am now on the lookout for a desk, because all the chair/table heights are wrong for me. I will ask the rental folks first.

My Ex and I used to dance to Saffire, way back in Richmond when I was in medical school. Fabulous and here is a song about rising.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: rise.

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There’s a boat here somewhere

Two of the ferries, that cross Puget Sound from Port Townsend to Whidby Island, are in this photograph from January. But it’s the sky that distracts. The ferries and the dock look small in the sound and the sky.

I do miss the Salish Sea!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: boat.