Castoff Day

Today was the big day!  It was the day my mother was having her cast off. 

When I told her, thinking it would make her happy, she didn't know what I was talking about and when I pointed to her cast, she said "what is that and why do I have it?"

I had to encourage her to get up and come with me.  She didn't realize that "we are going to the doctor" meant that she had to actually get up and go to the doctor.

But we got her in the car and I had Walt go the "scenic route," out the back roads instead of  the freeway because I knew how many orchards were in bloom and thought she'd enjoy that, though she didn't seem to understand when I pointed out the trees. Sigh.

When we were last at Kaiser, they gave me an appointment for 3:30, but then I got a reminder from them yesterday saying that the appointment was for 2:30, and to get there early so she could have an x-ray.

We got there at 1:45 and were told that her appointment wasn't until 3:30....and that she didn't need an x-ray.  Sigh.  It would be nice if the left hand talked to the right hand!

But they weren't busy and they took her right away (as a matter of fact, we were back at Atria before 3:30!)

A P.C named Kevin (I told him Kevin was a nice name, but not as nice as "Sundance," the PC who took care of us the last two times!) took the cast off.  When he came toward her with the little saw that takes it off and asked her to give him her arm, she opened her mouth wide.  She thought he was a dentist.  Sigh.

She winced during the sawing process, but I suspect it was more from anticipation than from actual pain.  And then it was over.  No more cast.  She still has some pain, which Kevin says is to be expected, and doesn't know why her wrist is hurting and doesn't remember ever having a cast.  But at least it's done.  Now if only we can keep her upright with all bones intact.

---

 

Earlier in the day, I went shopping.  I have to admit I was a bit taken aback by the sticker shock.  I don't think I ever go over $200 (or even near that much!) in a normal shopping trip that is NOT for a holiday meal.

But we were out of pretty much everything.  I really don't like shopping any more and the wonderfulness of delivered meals is that you don't have to shop and don't have to plan.  But they DO only deliver 3 meals a week, so unless there are leftovers, you have 4 other days to cook.

Any shopping trip that involves buying meat is already an expensive trip.  And I was out of my multi-vitamins and my Vitamin-B, both of which the doctor says I should take, and that's a big cost right there. 

On this trip, I also paid attention to the odd fruits I had not seen before, like the "Sumo Citrus" which looked like tangerines on steroids....big and muscular (someone said that they are really quite good).  I was particularly intrigued by the rambutan and passion fruit.

I knew of passion fruit (the ones on the right) but don't know that I'd ever seen one...but I had neither seen nor heard of rambutan, which is apparently a fruit native to Southeast Asia.  It sounds suspiciously like a relative of the odious durian, so though Wikipedia tells me it's tasty, I probably won't be intrigued enough to buy one.

We are all stocked up now and with luck I won't have to go to the store again for several weeks, except for that one thing I forgot, which of course I remembered as soon as I left the store.

When I got home, I was moved to write to the manager of the store and commend the bagger, a guy who must be close to 7' tall and whose name was Patrick.  My complaint with most baggers is that even if you specifically ask them to pack the reusable bags you dutifully bring to the store with you light, they seem determined to fit as much as they can into one bag and leave 10 bags empty.  When I complain, they tell me not to worry--that they will carry the bags to the car for me.  My question of whether they will then come home with me and carry the bags into the house goes unanswered (and my wit unappreciated).  Patrick first asked me if I wanted the bags to be packed light, then he packed one bag and had me test it for weight.  When all the bags were loaded in the cart, he started to push it to the car and then stopped and asked if I'd prefer to push it myself (which I appreciated, since I use the cart as a quasi cane).  He was so considerate and friendly that I thought the manager should know what an impression he made on me.

Alert the Media

I left the house yesterday!

I haven't left the house to review a show in 3 weeks and my lunch date had been postponed twice so I've just been huddled at home. (Though I've been t Atria and to Kaiser with my mother, I don't really consider that "getting out.")

Walt has been picking up food when we run out (his standard store run includes ice cream and bananas), but I haven't had to go to the store in weeks, so I've been enjoying "hermit-ing" and realizing that the older I get the more like my father I get.  (At least I don't have a "go away; don't bother me" sign on my front door!)

But yesterday, I had to face the face that we were out of major food stuffs and that I had cooked our last Home Chef meal and unless we were going to have toast for dinner, I had to actually go out in public and do some shopping.

Of course, the first stop had to be Atria.  I know she has no concept if I've been there yesterday or last month, but I always feel guilty if I skip more than a day.  Problem is that more and more I drag my feet.  I somehow hate the long walk from one end of the building to the other, and don't look forward to our hour of hearing about how old she is.  The good days are when she's in fantasy land and talks about what her sister is doing these days.

But I went.  And there was no parking to be had for love or money within the long block.  Rather than park a long way away, I realized that I have been thinking for weeks about going to the World Market to look for a donut pan.  

I saw a new chef on the Food Network recently who made baked apple cider donuts and it reminded me of the delicious donuts we had in Apple Hill a bit ago and I really wanted to try making some when Jeri and Phil were here, but I needed donut pans.  Thinking I would get them right away, I bought the apple cider and it's been "aging" for 2 weeks.  So I've been thinking about getting donuts to use the cider and casually looking whenever I was in a store, but realized I needed a specialty shop.

So I went to World Market.

The first thing that greeted me was their big display of chocolates of the world.

This is just a small section of the display of chocolates from Switzerland, Africa and other places (I didn't look carefully).  Each bar is 3.5 oz and cost $4.  I wonder if they sell many at that price.  But they it was certainly a colorful display.

Then I looked to my left and saw this display for the upcoming Chinese New Year's celebration.

This will be the year of the dog.  We should celebrate.  But then every year is the year of the dog around here!  They had some Chinese almond cookies which I loved when I was a kid, so I got a big package of them (they don't taste the same...but then the foods I loved when I was a kid, I'm discovering, don't taste the same now that I'm an old lady.)

World Market did indeed have donut pans and I bought two of them so am now in business.  I just need to make the donuts.

After I'd made my purchases, I drove back to Atria, but there was still no parking, so I decided to go to the supermarket and then try again.  It had been so long since I'd been at Nugget Market that I was having a lovely time looking at all the new displays and deciding what I was going to fix for the next two nights.

By the time I'd finished my shopping and got into the car, it was 3:30, and really too late to go to Atria.  I feel guilty that I was not sad about that.  Today is the day that her "Alzheimers buddy" comes so I don't fee bad about skipping today (since Walt needs the car), but I'll visit on Thursday and then on Friday she goes back to the orthopedist.  The cast remains on, which is a good thing.

But anyway, the world didn't notice that I'd emerged from hermithood briefly, but I did.  Saturday there is a play to review, so my days of being a hermit are about over

A Dip in Temps

Yesterday was the only slight dip (mid-90s) in an otherwise triple-digit week, so my body responded by getting out and Doing Stuff.

I stayed home for a call from Eargo--my second--to find out if I am having any problems with my hearing aids.  I'm not.  But it's nice to know they care.

At noon, Polly had a vet appointment for an annual exam and to get her rabies updated so we can license her for another year. 

Leaving for the vet was not without drama.  Lizzie was determined to get out of the house.  Normally that's not a problem, but she saw Polly was on a leash and she was going to go out or die trying.  Despite all my attempts to block her or grab her or pull her back by the tail, yet she persisted and in seconds was half a block away.

I can't chase the damn dog down the driveway, so trying to chase her down the block was out of the question.  I got Polly in the car and tied to the brake handle so she couldn't jump out after me and I drove to where Lizzie was sniffing around a neighbor's yard.

Lizzie was just thrilled to see me and eagerly got into the car without a problem.  I drove her back home and got her in the house.  We had been asked to get to the office 5 minutes early, but what with chasing Lizzie we were exactly on time. 

Polly weighs about 11-1/2 lbs.  When Caroline was here (a veterinarian resident), she always called Polly a "sausage," and said that she needed to diet, but the vet had no comment on her weight.  But after taking her to the back to do the exam, she is reported to be in good health and able to live a long life.

They did recommend a dental appointment and said they would give me an "estimate."  She said a couple of her front teeth is a little loose and she might need an extraction.  Well, her check-up was $90 and her estimated dental appointment was anywhere from $350 to $650...but the estimate is only good for 3 months, as prices will go up after that (and I had to sign an agreement that I was aware of that).  I suspect we will not get the dental appointment!

We went to Jack in the Box for a quick lunch, which made me angry because my standard order is a plain cheeseburger (bun, patty, cheese), only when I parked to eat the burger, I discovered they had not included cheese, which just made it a dry burger.  I had 3/4 of it and gave the other 1/4 to Polly (who was thrilled).

They had given me a web site to fill out a satisfaction survey, so I came home, dropped Polly off and immediately filled out the survey.  Maybe I'll get a free burger out of it.  But not so far.
I knew if I sat down for a few minutes, I would never get up, so I headed over to Atria while I was still in "doing stuff" mode.  I noticed on the way over that gas prices have already started to reflect Hurricane Harvey's effects.

My mother greeted me as if I hadn't been there in a year and she was amazed that I was coming to see her (it had been 3 days since I'd been there).  We went to her apartment and talked for an hour.  They had given me some papers of her latest assessment that they wanted me to read over and sign.
 
When I left the apartment, I went to the office to drop the form off and they told me she has been acting "mean" and has been locking her roommate out of their apartment (Marge is not really a likeable person and my mother has told me on more than one occasion that she doesn't like her, but I didn't realize she was being mean).  They suggest I get her a urinalysis because they suspect she has a urinary tract infection, so that's on the docket for next week.

I went off to the supermarket.  I don't think I'd been there in a month and we were out of everything, including two critical things I went there specifically to get and then forgot to pick them up (flour and yeast).

By the time I got home, my back was killing me and so I rushed through putting refrigerated things away and leaving all the packaged things until later  Walt had been at work and came home with a bad back as well, so we both took Aleve and settled in to watch Master Chef's 2 hour special and let our backs rest

Another Indignity

The time is drawing short and there are only two days before we leave here, headed for Spain and our next Viking cruise.  We are getting things done.  I still have to lay in treats for Ashley and her husband, who live here when we are gone.  I did get all of my mail finished and sent.  I got my laundry folded, which almost never happens.  Walt has put a stop on the mail and the newspapers and harvested our pomegranates for Ashley and David.

I have been trying to get out to the nearby outlet mall to get a new bum bag and some clothes. 

Bum bag.  We used to call it a fanny pack until Peggy came here and told us that in Australia "fanny" is the term for "vulva," so Australians refer to it as a "bum bag."  We started calling it bum bag in case we should run into Australians some day.  But when I went to the luggage store today I reverted back in terminology to be understood and said I was looking for a fanny pack and the clerk told me they aren't permitted to call it a fanny pack any more.  Now it's a "hip hop" (though "fanny pack" seems to be prevalent all over the internet). 

I also found these fun synonyms on Wikipedia:

A fanny pack, belt pack, belly bag, buffalo pouch, hip sack, phanny pack, waist bag, waistpack, butt pack (US), waist wallet (Canada), hip pack (UK), belt bag (Philippines), bum bag (UK, Ireland, South America, Australia, New Zealand) or moon bag (South Africa), is a small fabric pouch usually secured with a zipper and worn by use of a strap around the hips or waist.

But anyway, I did get a new bum bag, which was a necessity.  I have one that I have used for years, but it is somewhere buried in the "50th anniversary clean up" boxes.  Besides, it was probably time for a new one anyway.

Then I went to the fat lady store to see if I could get some pants that aren't sweat pants, as that is about all I wear any more.  I did find some that I like and was so discouraged to discover that (a) the largest size on the rack fits just fine, but (b) I'm now too short for regular slacks.  Yes, the average size pant is perfect from the waist down to the knee, but when you get to the cuffs, they drag on the ground.  I found one pair in a short and those were fine, but they didn't have any other paints I could find in that large a size in a short length. Harumph.  Hell to get old! But at least I have one new pair of pants, and no energy to go looking in another store.  And I have a couple pairs of "good" pants that I wear for dress up and then the sweat pants.  I'll take the ones that show the least wear.

Then I have to choose among my many t-shirts and other shirts trying to figure out how dressy an ocean ship is compared to the casual river cruises we are used to.  Which political message do I want to wear throughout Europe?  Elephant conservation? Compassion kids? "I love 'Outlander'"? or just silly stuff?

I did clean out two drawers yesterday and found a ton of things I'd forgotten I had, and that was good.  I also freed up space, which was also very good.

Tomorrow is the 95th birthday of the venerable Arthur Sullivan (the other one) and we are happy to be sharing the day with him and lots of our Lamplighter friends.  I still have to do one more washing for my mother and get all of her pills for the next 3 weeks ready for her.  I've talked with the woman at Atria who has promised to look in on her every day to make sure she has taken her pills.  But things in the Mom Department are pretty much taken care of, thank goodness.  I'm almost but not quite starting to disengage for the time we are gone.

I still have to do all the computer stuff, setting up things on flash drives (so I have backups if the first one crashes) and remembering all the cords I need to bring and remember to check that I still have the plug that you need to convert wattage.  And I need to modify the look of this page to represent the "Mediterranean Odyssey" pages.

While I am doing all of this stuff, Walt is cleaning, vacuuming, mowing, washing, repairing, and all the things you do to take care of a house as well as making sure all our travel plans are in order and that we have the proper currency for the trip.  I'm on the computer and checking the recordings on the DVR for while we are gone, and watching Benghazi reporting.  I am a bad person.

A Knife Going Through Cake

Walt told me a story today.  He makes his own lunch because he likes some kind of noodle soup.  Sometimes it's top ramen, sometimes it's some other kind of noodle.  He loads the flavored soup up with bok choy and carrots and whatever other vegetables there are in the refrigerator and then sits down to enjoy a big bowl of this concoction.  I think it takes him back to his days of eating saimin when he lived in Hawaii.

This afternoon he was using Japanese rice noodles in his soup and was using the last of the noodles left in the package.  He was breaking them up into smaller pieces and when he got to the end there was a piece about 1/4" long which fell into Polly's food bowl, which is right by the stove.  The thing was slightly heavier than a feather and he could barely hear the noise when it hit the bowl, but immediately Polly and Lizzie, who had been sleeping in the living room, were in the kitchen, expecting to find some sort of treat waiting for them.

Walt is always surprised when something like this happens.  He forgets the old Peanuts cartoon that talks about Snoopy being able to hear a knife going through cake.  When your entire life is spent on the alert hoping that somehow someone is going to drop something that you find edible, you easily cancel out all other noises and the barely perceptible sound of a teeny bit of uncooked noodle falling into a bowl immediately sends your salivary glands into overdrive.

I have discovered over the years how very acute the dogs' hearing is, so much so that I never call them any more.  I just open the back door and speak their voice in a conversational tone.

Heck, I don't even have to do that.  If I'm sitting at my desk in my office, get up and walk to the siding glass door, Polly is already there waiting for me.  She heard me push my chair back and figured I would be calling her.

If Sheila is sleeping outside at night and I very quietly say to Polly "let's go to bed," as I head off down the hall to the living room, Sheila is in the dog door and by my side in an instant to join the rest of us in our nightly "bedtime sandwich" (with me as the "meat", Lizzie and Sheila as the bread on the table and floor, respectively, and Polly as the "pickle" curled up on my back).

---

I've been discovering that there are lots of things in the house that we are out of.  Macaroni, for example.  Who checks to see if we still have macaroni?   We always have macaroni.  But we didn't.  There were other things too that we were out of, so a trip to the supermarket was in order.  Friday mid-afternoon was a great time to go.  Very few people there.

Good parking, lots of available carts, aisles not very crowded.   I usually buy pretty much the same thing from week to week, so I don't pay a lot of attention to the price of things.  Just bite the bullet and pay the bill.  But I did recoil when I saw this.

I remember when I could get ground lamb for less than $1 a pound.   Now it's >$10 a pound.  When did I get to be so old....?  I sound like my mother.  It's not only lamb, of course.  A small leg of lamb or a roast beef was more than $20.  I checked the price of chicken and was glad that I had a bag of frozen chicken parts at home.

As for spices!

The sale price of this wall of spices was enough to make me try to learn to eat bland food!!!

In the end, I got pretty much what I always get.  The young man bagging the groceries had Downs Syndrome.  I have seen many Downs Syndrome people working in supermarkets and they have been for the most part friendly, helpful, and efficient.  It was obvious that this kid did not want to be there.  He was surly, grumpy, didn't respond when I tried to talk with him, didn't want to touch the food and picked up each item with two fingers on one hand while his other hand was held in the air as far away from the food as he could get.  It was good that this was slow time because it would have taken him forever to get all of my groceries bagged if the checker had not stopped what he was doing and done most of it for him.  I predict he will not last long in the job.

Premeditated Shopping

I am guilty of premeditated shopping. When I knew that I would be going out and passing just a stone's throw from Michael's Craft Store, it was a crime already committed. Haul me off to jail right now, officer. I won't even put up a fight--if I can only bring my Michael's bag along with me.

I actually convinced myself that I had a legitimate reason for going in. This is the weekend, so time to write to the two soldier Amandas. But it's also 4th of July weekend so I used flag-themed paper, a blue envelope with red and white stripes on it, a Statue of Liberty return address label, and a Bill Mauldin stamp.

I convinced myself that it would be really groovy to add a flag sticker too, and maybe some stars. But I didn't have any of those things and surely I could find them at Michael's.

I damn near didn't, actually. Nearly $50 worth of stuff later (stickers, labels, stuff from the $1 bin--note cards, rubber stamps, ink, etc.) I still hadn't found flag themed stuff, but then as I was making one last pass down the center aisle, there it was--flags, soldier stuff, stars, glitter, paper, etc. I only bought the flags, but felt that my trip was now justified -- and surely I'll use all the rest, right?

When I got out of the store, there was a police officer standing in front of the car in front of me in the parking lot -- actually in front of me and one over -- peeking through the window. She didn't seem to be leaving, but just kept peeking in the window on either side, and circling the car. It's a very hot day, so I assumed that maybe there was a critter in there. Not a baby because she seemed to be looking at the floor, but maybe a dog inside, crouched on the floor, miserable in the heat.

Pretty soon two police cars showed up and equipment was hauled out of each and now four officers were peeking in the window of the car and a gathering of looky-loos had assembled. I was in the middle of a Michael Connelly audio book, so naturally I was imaging blood and body parts and all sorts of nefarious doings.

I finally became embarrassed to be part of the crowd watching the police, so I backed out of my parking slot and did a couple of circles around the parking lot (I'm such a hypocrite!) but by the time I finally left to go home, they were still peeking in the window and trying to get the car door opened.

It was probably something as simple as someone locking her keys in the car, but I'll never know...though the first police officer was looking on the passenger side.

By the time I got home, the mail had already been picked up, so I never got to use my flag stickers either, but now I'll have them for next time. And I have new toys too. :)

I only had an hour and a few minutes left of the book I was listening to (Connelly's "The Fifth Witness") and, as he always does he had sucked me in. The first third of this book I thought I had finally found a Connelly book that bored me. The hero of this one is Mickey Haller ("The Lincoln Lawyer") and it involves a murder case, where the defendant insists she's being set up.

As I wrote in my review, if anybody wants to know how to construct and present a case at trial, this is the book to follow. Painstaking explanation of what he is going after and why, and then more painstaking trial description, explaining the order of witnesses, the "acting" by both of the attorneys for the jury's benefit. But by somewhere midway through the book, he hooked me. Connelly always does that. He's great at that.

The story zigs where it should zag, you're convinced you've figured it all out and then it goes off in another direction before swinging back again. I could be more specific, but I want anybody interested in books like this to go out and buy it for yourself and enjoy the ride.

Self Serve

I hate shopping in that store and I kick myself whenever I run out for a quick "thing" and forget that I hate the store.

When we first moved here, our local supermarket was a Lucky's, about three blocks from the house, so very convenient. I don't remember when the Safeway a bit farther on opened, or if it was opened when we moved here, but I've never liked that store--just too small, crowded, and filled with people. Why students seem to prefer Safeway over Lucky's I never did figure out, since they are both about the same distance from the campus.

Several years ago they had that stupid insulting ad campaign where Lucky's "married" Albertsons. (At that time the fight for marriage equality was just revving up here and it seemed a constant kick in the backside to see big billboards celebrating the "marriage" of two supermarket chains, complete with cake and other wedding paraphernalia, but gay couples who had been together for 30+ years were being denied the same rights as grocery stores.)

Anyway, Lucky's disappeared in the "marriage" and the store became Albertson's. You couldn't really tell the difference. The look was the same, the clerks were the same, the supplies were the same. Only the name had changed.

Some time after Albertson took over Lucky, Nugget Market built a store on this side of the freeway. Everybody loved Nugget, which is kind of a blend of your regular supermarket and a natural foods specialty store. But Nugget was on the other side of the freeway so I rarely shopped there. David worked there for awhile and loved it. Apparently the people there loved him too because they sent a wonderful letter after his death (he hadn't worked there in a couple of years at the time he died).

I always thought Nugget prices were higher than Albertson's but when I started comparing they were pretty comparable. One might be higher on one thing and the other higher on another, but in the end it was pretty much a wash and Nugget has a bigger selection of things, and generally better produce.

So I didn't really pay much attention when Albertson's became Save Mart because I rarely shopped there any more. It seemed that the biggest difference (still the same staff and same layout) was that you no longer needed a membership card to get the special deals.

BUT, SaveMart put in self-serve check-out stations. Two at first. Now there are six. Just try and find a clerk who will check you out. Now most of the time I forget and go shopping at SaveMart, I have to check myself out and pack my own grocery sack.

Now I know that in many other parts of the world, packing your own grocery bag is expected. I remember Nora being surprised when I just stood there waiting for the clerk to pack the groceries for us when I went shopping with her in Ireland. Peggy laughed when I expected the clerk to pack the grocery bag in Australia. But here, I've had my groceries packed for me all of my life.

I don't mind checking out a few things by myself, though I prefer not to. But I hate it when I have a big cart full of food, or a smaller cart full of irregularly shaped items and can't find anybody to check me out and pack the bags. It does give me a better appreciation for the work that checkers and baggers do, but I don't want to do it myself. I've lived 68 years and have earned the right to be a cranky old lady. I have considered just leaving the grocery cart in the aisles with a note saying "I don't want to check myself out," but that would only make work for the people who are just obeying orders.

But I try never to shop at Save Mart any more. Heck, Nugget not only checks me out and packs the grocery bag for me, but they even unload the cart for me. I don't have to put it on a conveyor belt. I can just sit back and peel myself a grape while all the work gets done by others.

Yeah, I'm really spoiled and after all of my writings about how rough it is in parts of the world where my Compassion kids live, it sounds really terrible (even to me) to hear that one of my big peeves is a grocery store that won't give me full service and makes me--heaven forbid!--pack my own grocery bag.

Maybe I'll adjust to it eventually. I remember what a shock it was when I had to learn how to pump my own gas. I didn't have a clue what to do. Now I don't even think about it. I just do it. I wash my own car windows and don't expect anybody to come running out of the office and wash the windows and check the tires for me, as they did many years ago.

Maybe some day I will take self check-out at the supermarket as routine and tell my grandchidren about the good old days when people used to do it for you.

But in the meantime, I'll continue to shop at Nugget and try to remember NOT to stop off at Save Mart when I need to pick up a few things.

What's that needle doing in my skull?

I'll be fine, just as soon as the stabbing pain in my head stops. It's a familiar pain. I've had it many times over the years, just not recently. It's not a headache. It's also not a sore throat, though my throat hurts too. It's like someone has jabbed a needle in the very top of my head and sent a nerve pain shooting down the back of my skull or the side of my face (it alternates) and into my throat (and then if I swallow, it shoots the pain back up into my head again).

It's not terrible. It comes and goes. Kind of like the throb of a heartbeat, only much, much slower. If I massage the area where the pain comes, it feels better, but I can't massage it all the time. It's just a bother and I want it to stop. Now.

It almost kept me from driving to Sacramento this morning, but I finally accepted that I simply had to get some clothes for the trip and so I went anyway. I hardly noticed the pain while I drove to Catherine's Fat Lady store (I think it's technically called "plus size" instead of "fat lady" but let's be honest here).

And I didn't notice it while I was standing in the dressing room, sweating like a pig in the June heat and trying on clothes.

I actually found two pairs of pants that fit, one blouse that I really liked, and a lightweight knit sweater thing that had been reduced from $50 to $10 and was too good a bargain to pass up.

I noticed the pain again while I was waiting to pay for my purchases.

I tried to pay with my Catherine's credit card, but it had been so long since I'd used it that they didn't even recognize it (as in--the old old cards are pink and this one is SO old that it's brown and nobody could remember seeing a brown card). This told me how long it has been since the last time I went shopping for clothes, because I don't think I have ever bought clothes in a store other than Catherine's. I've ordered sweat pants from a catalog, but that's about it.

I could have paid with my Visa card, of course, but then I'd miss out on the automatic 10% discount you get from using your Catherine's card. Added to the 30% that I got because I have a Catherine's card which allowed me to get a scratcher card that let me know how big an additional discount I got.

Then because the computer was down and they couldn't look back in their old records for my information, they just issued me a new card, which meant I got an additional 15% off for opening an account. Ultimately with all the discounts they kept piling on, my ~$160 worth of purchases cost me $85.

Wincing my way back to the car because the pain was coming in throbs at that point, I drove to the nearest Red Lobster for lunch because I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to get more of those good snow crab legs while I was in the neighborhood. I didn't notice the pain while I was drowning my snow crab in melted butter. I think it was still there, but the pleasure sensation buried it.

Back to the car and turn on my audio book again and back out into traffic. I was stopped at a very long stoplight and looked to my right to see a woman in her car lovin' whatever it was that she was hearing on her radio.

I debated about stopping at Costco, my original plan, because what I really wanted to do was to get home and take an aspirin (which, as it turned out, didn't help anyway because this is more a nerve pain, like a toothache in your head...I guess toothaches are in your head too, aren't they? Duhhh.). But we were running out of doggie treats and one cannot be out of doggie treats! I also thought I would get something easy to fix for dinner so I didn't have to deal with cooking.

I did a quick tour through Costco, getting the treats, and some individual pizzas for Walt to cook for himself, and some cherries for the fruit cravings I've been having (cherries at Costco were $8 for 3 lbs; at my local market they were $4.50 a pound and had been packaged in 3+ pound packages!), then I drove the last leg of the trip, really looking forward to getting everything put away and collapsing in the recliner.

Of course, with six dogs in the house it's never that easy. The chaos starts when the car turns into the driveway. Polly starts that yappy chihuahua bark of hers and Lizzie starts leaping at the door. I hear yip-yip-yip, thud, yip-yip-yip, thud over and over again while I get my keys out. When I open the door there is a flurry of activity. Mom's home! Mom's home! Mom's home!

The babies have now learned about the front door and are forever darting outside as soon as the door is opened and then I either trip over them or start to shut the door on their bodies.

Five of them know that when I come home there are treats to be dished out (the way I keep them all from running outside when the door is opened). This is fine when there are only two, but five bodies leaping at me becomes chaos. It's only a matter of time before Bitsy figures it out too, since her brother already has.

Somehow I managed to get treats dolled out and food put away and I got myself a bowl of cherries (because life is, after all...) and collapsed in the recliner. But four dogs immediately had to get in my lap and Emmy, who is convinced that anything that goes into my mouth belongs to her alternated between trying to take cherries out of my mouth and trying to get them out of the bowl. I don't know what she would have done with a cherry if she HAD succeeded.

I managed to get them distracted with a new toy I'd bought at Costco. One of those long dogs that you see in Petco ads. It only took Polly 30 minutes to start ripping the stuffing out of it, but it was a good 30 minutes and the entertainment value for both the dogs and me was easily worth the $2.50 I paid for it.

Now I just have to cook the individual pizzas so Walt can have dinner (I'm not feeling hungry), feed the dogs, and settle in to watch Russian Ark, the new movie I just got from Netflix, which is about a tour of the Hermitage and which my friend Ron tells me is great if you need a sleeping pill, and hope that the pain finally subsides.

I know from experience that what happens is that the intervals between throbs get less and less and eventually, hopefully by tomorrow, I just don't notice it any more. Like I said, it's a familiar pain that I've had off and on for years, but just not recently.

Bullseye

After months...nay years...of argument, votes, debate, and finally resignation (not unlike the stages of grief!), Davis recently celebrated the opening of a new Target store out by the railroad tracks.

I have to admit that I really found it difficult to get incensed about it, one way or the other. The only thing that I don't like about stores like Target and Borders moving into town is that it takes us further and further from individualization as a town, and more subject to what I have come to call the "USA Today-ing of America," that syndrome where people can hop on a plane, get off at an airport, stay at a Holiday Inn without having the leave the airport grounds, have dinner at Denny's or Applebees, pick up their USA Today in the morning, attend their meetings, get back on the plane and head home again without knowing whether they were in Seattle or Houston or New Orleans.

But that's what we are becoming. A homogenized nation where mom and pop stores are being replaced by big box stores and the individual is looked at as some weirdo.

That having been said, once the big boxes establish themselves, I become a devotee just like the rest of the townsfolk. I am nothing if not a pod person ready to follow my leaders wherever they lead me. Most of the time.

And so today being a holiday (not that that means much when you are retired!), I decided to take the opportunity to check out the new store. Besides, I was running low on "miscellaneous sundries."

My first thought is that you definitely know you're in a university town when you sit at the intersection of "Target Main Driveway" and "Fermi Place."

Call me a snob, but I don't somehow equate Enrico Fermi with the average Target customer. But this is Davis, after all...and it's the boutique winery that is on Fermi Place anyway.

As I turned into the parking lot, I wasn't sure if I was going to a store or to the Sacramento Airport. The parking lot stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions. And as I got out of the car and looked up, I wasn't sure if I felt safe, or like I was living in a George Orwell envisioned world.

I parked so far from the entrance that I halfway expected there to be a bus stop where I could wait for transportation, but no. I walked to the entrance and entered a world about the size that the town of Davis was when we first moved here. The place is enormous. It makes Costco seem tiny.

The check-out stands start where I am standing and go back so far this photo does not show the end of the row. And remember that for every stand you can actually see, there is another cash register to the right of the one showing in this photo.

But for all its size, there is one area in which it is sorely lacking. The photo below shows about a quarter of the size of the area where ladies go to look for clothes. The other side of the aisle contains the rest of the clothing for ladies.

And the photo below is the complete fat lady section. The outlined portion, not the entire photo--the clothes on the right of the white box are maternity clothes.

Not only that but the style of clothes shows that Target has given no thought whatsoever to the kind of clothes that fat women want to wear.

While this may be a lovely looking top, I am here to tell you that no fat woman wants to wear a top with an elasticized lower edge. It may look cute on the hanger, but if you put it on, it's going to ride up over your fat hips and look just awful.

They did have one rack of hoodies that actually went up to size 4 (one). That's larger than I wear, but I decided to try on a size 4, which wouldn't even zip up in front of me.

In fairness, the thing was made in Cambodia and I've seen Cambodian women and I think they probably can't even conceive of someone my size. Yet a fair number of your average Target shoppers, especially those my age, are closer to my size than to the petite size, I suspect.

The whole fat lady department was entirely too depressing, so I decided to check out the rest of the store which is, as I have said, enormous.

I passed through the baby section, which is even larger than the ladies' section, and did a zig zag through the aisles of various foodstuffs, picking up things that looked interesting, like cocoa roast almonds and jalapeno tortillas. I was just starting to think that you could buy all of your foods here if only they had fresh produce, when I came upon the fresh produce section. Of course, their potatoes, for example, were $1.29 each (because they were individually wrapped), so it was not exactly someplace you would regularly come for your food stuffs, but they did have Yoplait yogurt on sale for 50 cents a container, nearly half of what I pay in the stores where I normally shop.

I went through the kitchen gadgets section to see if there was anything there I couldn't live without. I was intrigued to see this "batter dispenser" for use with pancake batter.

I have one of those gadgets too. I call it "a spoon." Amazing what people will pay $15 for! I decided I could live without the batter dispenser.

By the time I'd seen most of the store, I had walked farther than I usually do on the treadmill, so I figured it was a good exercise if nothing else. But I had also managed to find nearly $100 worth of miscellaneous sundries, so I had something to show for my hour walking around the big box store.

And best of all, I had dinner not only for tonight, but for tomorrow night as well, so I don't have to think about what to cook for two whole nights. That's always a good day.

The Cousins Day that Wasn't

This was supposed to be Cousins Day...well, technically yesterday was supposed to be Cousins Day, but it would have spilled over to today, so I decided to go down and have lunch with my mother anyway. (We had to cancel Cousins Day because Kathy was sick.)

I also wanted to stop at the outlet stores in Vacaville, about 20 miles from here. I've been meaning to do that ever since it got close to this trip, but I just hate shopping, so have been putting off making a special trip. Going to see my mother would put me on the freeway heading home and driving right by the outlet stores, so it would be perfect.

I decided to make a video on the way. Possibly one of the most boring videos I've ever made, but I've been wanting to try out the bean-bag kinda camera mount in the car (and I'm pleased that it worked so well!) to try to film American Canyon, one of my favorite brief parts of the trip. So I did it. Watch at your peril. Just remember that I told you it was deadly dull. (Unless you're me and then it's kinda cool).

This is sunflower season and fields everywhere are filled as far as the eye can see with sunflowers. I really love sunflowers, so I had to get off the freeway to take a few pictures.

I got to my mother's around 10:30 or so, so we had a chance to sit and visit. The good news from her is that her ankle wound seems to have just about healed (insert cheer here!). She doesn't have to see the wound nurse weekly any more, which is great. She still need to wear her elastic bandage for another couple of months and the rash that the bandage adhesive caused will take a long time to clear up, but this is probably the most positive news about her ankle since she broke it. She is very happy. Modified rapture.

She lives near a golf club and it has a very nice restaurant where we eat from time to time, and today we went there again (I took a cell phone photo of my mother...not her best look!).

We had a nice lunch (I had coconut shrimp with thai dipping sauce) and then since we both had such a small meal, we indulged in dessert.

(I know several people reading this who will be jealous when I tell them that the golf club's creme brulee is delicious!)

Speaking of food, though, I forgot to mention in the entry about the meeting of the group of people going on the trip to Europe that we were given the one rule that we are expected to follow during the two weeks we will be gone... "one pastry a day," says Jennifer, our tour organizer.

Gosh. Gee. How will I ever be able to do that...? (FWIW, I'm reading that as "at least one pastry a day!")

I left my mother's around 2 and headed for the outlet stores. I'd been toying with getting a new suitcase. The suitcase I bought to go to Australia was too big and Walt's carry-on was too small, so I managed to find one that was juuuuust right, feeling like Goldilocks. I also picked up a one-size-fits-all poncho that all folds up into a neat little pouch. I discovered after I opened it up that it folds up into a neat little pouch. Now I have to figure out how to fold it all back up again into that neat little pouch.

Then, with heavy heart, I headed to the fat ladies' store. I had hoped to get some new pants to replace the ones that are riddled with holes made by puppy claws over the years....and perhaps something a little lighter than the sweat pants I've been living in for years. Do you know how depressing it is when you can't find anything to fit in a fat ladies' store? I didn't find anything in a size I would even attempt to put on, as far as pants went, but I did pick up 3 tops and a jacket that will dress up one of the tops and make even holey black sweat pants look OK.

It ain't good, but it's far better than the last time I stood in a clothing store dressing room. (Also please note that I have had my hair cut, finally...it's so short that the curl all came back, which I like very much.)

So I declared my trip shopping done. Now I just have to pack.

A Quick Trip to the Store

It was going to be a quick trip to the supermarket. Walt left this morning to fly to Santa Barbara to see his mother (who is doing fine--he just hasn't seen her since we were there in December). It was my first time to drive on the freeway since my surgery and it was fine, even with the wrong prescription glasses. The improvement in my vision is so amazing that I didn't get at all nervous and I know that when I finally have the right glasses there will be nothing stopping me.

On the way home, my plan was to drop by the Kaiser pharmacy in Davis. Lizzie got hold of my little bag of eye drops earlier this week and took them into the living room to play with. I found them before she'd done too much damage, but she did puncture a hole in the largest bottle. (Someone suggested I should use Bitter Apple to keep her away, but I figure that eye drops, being medicine to begin with, should be its own Bitter Apple!)

I had patched the hole in the bottle and I store the bottle upside down to keep the drops away from the hole, but still each time I go to use it, there is moisture. I was afraid that I would run out of the drops before the end of the month, so I sent a "the dog ate my eyedrops" note to my doctor and he called in a new prescription for me.

After I picked up the medication, I decided to go to the supermarket and pick up a few things. I've been invited to join many of the other people who are going on the trip to France and Italy that Jeri and I are taking in June later this week. It's a pot luck dinner and I volunteered to bring boef en daube (since all the food has to be French). I could have found a simple recipe, but this one is so complex it starts several days ahead with peeling and drying your own orange rind, so I needed to buy oranges today so the rind would dry in time to start making the stew on Wednesday.

I rarely run into people I know here in Davis. I don't get out and about all that often and I can't remember the last time I accidentally encountered someone I knew anywhere, without having made an arrangement ahead of time. So it was a surprise when I was going down the first aisle and someone called out "Bev Sykes!" At first I didn't recognize this "old" woman. (It's a good thing she doesn't know about this journal!) But when she identified herself, I recognized the face, now some 20 years older. It was so good to see her. Our kids were friends when they were in school and I babysat for her for a brief time when she was taking classes at the local art center. We spent a lot of time standing there getting caught up on what her kids were doing, and what our kids were doing. I cringed a bit when she asked what "our youngest" is doing, because surely she knew about David, but she meant Tom, so that was OK.

She told me how much she loves my letters to the editor (does nobody know that I write theatre reviews and haven't written a letter to the editor -- except one -- in years?)

It was delightful to see her again, to share our good news about Brianna, to hear about her child's upcoming marriage this summer (and to learn that I was NOT the last person my age to have a grandchild.) We parted with the promise for us each to say hello to our family from the other one.

I continued to push my cart around the corner and hadn't gone 10 steps when I ran into another woman I once knew quite well. Her kids were in theatre with our kids and together we hosted foreign students. At one time we used to have lunch together periodically but we hadn't seen each other in a very long time, except for a chance encounter at a formal dinner a month or so ago.

We talked about her child's recent trip abroad and I commented on how I had followed it on Facebook. We talked about how much she hates Facebook and how much I like it -- and why for both of us.

She confessed to feeling guilty because she keeps meaning to call me to get together for lunch. We realized that neither of us could make a date without checking our calendars (she knew she had next week, Tuesday and Wednesday free, and I knew that Tuesday is Cousins day, which cuts out both days for me). So we agreed to go home and check our calendars and let each other know what dates are free.

Thinking what an odd coincidence it was to run into not one but two old friends in the space of a couple of minutes, I continued on toward the yogurt display when someone called out "Hello, Bev..." This was someone who is a member of a board that I'm on and I do see her regularly, though not for a couple of months, since the last meeting was held the day of my surgery.

We talked about how I'm doing post-op and how thrilled I am with my cataract surgery.

I didn't run into anyone else on my trip throughout the store, but this was such an incredibly unusual day, to run into three people I know in the space of about 10 minutes.

Well that's gonna make it difficult to continue to claim to be a hermit these days!!!

Miscellaneous Sundries from Longs

Walt and I rarely have arguments, either because we agree on everything, or because we are both dedicated passivists. I'm not sure what his upbringing was, but mine was "don't rock the boat" (or, more specifically, "don't upset your father"). To speak out was often to anger my father and so speaking out (face to face) has always been the hardest thing in the world for me to do. I can do it a bit better in print, but face to face is the worst.

However, our "moments," if you want to call them that, invariably came around the charges at Longs Drugs. I will admit that I occasionally got carried away when shopping at Longs, but the bulk of my purchases at Longs were for such frivolous things as dog food, people food, snacks, cleaning supplies, toiletries (bearing in mind that I don't do face creams, make-up, or anything else of the expensive girly toiletries type) and office supplies. Yeah, there were frivolous things, but it got to the point that when the credit card bill came at the end of the month, we would have "words" about my extravagances and I always felt that the bulk of our money went for "miscellaneous sundries at longs," as Walt always referred to them.

This was a very long time ago, and the problem took care of itself when I finally got a full-time job and my own credit card. I just started buying all the "miscellaneous sundries" on my credit card and paying for them myself and all "words" stopped.

Over the years, the charges at Longs came fewer and farther between, as I seemed to reach saturation as far as "stuff" that I wanted to buy and I rarely go into Longs any more.

So today, when Walt got home from the office (yes, he went to work today), I said "I bought something I haven't bought in a very long time." He asked what I had purchased and I said "Miscellaneous sundries at Longs."

I went to the writers group this morning, without Joan, who had a mild heart attack over the weekend and is now (thankfully) recovering at home.

Women take note. This is Joan's description of her symptoms: I'm witness to the fact (and I want to warn you) that women, at least this woman) have different heart attack symptoms. I would not have identified my early symptoms...a fist-like grabbing excruciating pain of my right jaw, which with my usual self-diagnosing problem, immediately thought I must have had an abscessed tooth that I hadn't recognized as needing help because I have no feeling in that side of my face." However, I then got the worst hot flash imaginable - wanted the air conditioner on even more -- and got so weak and nauseated I wanted in my bed, immediately. By the time I got up and went to my bed, a had a sharp pain under my left arm...that I then felt between my shoulders in the back...and then a bit into my left breast. By this time, Ed was calling 9-1-1...Two firetrucks were at the door in 3-5 minutes...

Anyway, when I left the meeting, I decided to stop at Long's to see about getting a camera case for my new camera! (Yes, I finally got the replacement for my stolen camera!). Of course I couldn't just walk in and buy a camera case. I also had to pick up a few "miscellaneous sundries." For old time's sake.

What I ended up buying was:

- the camera case (on sale for $7)
- a carrying case for my new cell phone (not on sale)
- aspirin
- medicinal ointment
- dog food
- sandwich bags
- some packaged food for dinner
- nacho cheese sauce
- bread
- a flashlight for my office, to replace mine which is always "somewhere else"
- lights for the dark wine closet (the closet is dark, not the wine, which is only sometimes dark!)
- batteries for the lights for the dark wine closet, and...

- a Secure Digital card for the new camera (my one wild and frivolous moment, but it was on sale, half off).

I hope that I didn't go too overboard with the miscellaneous sundries. So far, there hasn't been any unpleasantness about my brief return to my former bad shopping habits.

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Gizmo is a bit difficult to photograph because she's so quick, but I did take this as a baseline photo. Note that her fur has a mottled appearance, both on her face and on her legs. She has a perpetually surprised look because of the lack of fur around her eyes. We'll see what a month or so of medications, baths, etc. will do to make this little girl ready for adoption. She's very sweet and has already fit in here beautifully.