2018 - It's a New Year again

2018 is a week away. I still have my health and a great job working at a wonderful organization. No one has passed on in my family so that subject is still intact, too. I have yet to move from the house I rent in the sometimes sketchy neighborhood replete with transplanted Hispanics, domestic violence, and drug dealings. Even so, I feel safe. I was accepted a while back as part of the sketchiness.

I am the single white female that daily walks her little dogs around the block. I will smile and wave or say "hello" or "hola" but you have to ignite the conversation. For those that live across the street from me, like Mrs. Kravitz, they have had a bird's eye view of the relationships that have started...and ended. They keep an eye on me and quickly match man with vehicle. They don't know that Jim has died or why someone will appear out of nowhere, disappear, and then reappear. One time I was told by the new man of the hour that after he parked his truck he was boldly approached by one of my neighbors. The older black man crossed the street and without hesitation stood at the new guy's driver side window to quiz him about his intentions.

My windows are open and I can hear the church bells being rung. Why at this time of the morning? Perhaps someone has died or perhaps they, too, are mourning the passing of the greatness of our country. The tax overhaul that favors the rich and big business, the FCC vote against Net Neutrality, or no longer proclaiming to those in need that we take in your tired and poor. All of these are satisfactory reasons to mourn for our country's slippery slope.

While some things are the same, others are not. If you expect change, when it happens, you won't be surprised and if it is a new trial instead of a new celebration, it might be easier to bear. I know that while my body lives, my soul is pinned to the earth. I might as well do my best. 

The Weekend the House was Tented

Poppy taking advantage of Teddy's absence and rummaging through Teddy's toy stash.

This weekend Poppy and I stayed at my mom’s house while the house I am renting was tented. 

Die, mother fucking fleas!!!!! 

Thursday night I sweated through nearly 2 hours of double bagging anything edible in the fridge, in the freezer, and dry goods on the shelves.  Anything that could be ingested by both human and animal also needed to be double bagged.  Don’t overlook any kind of medicine, health and personal care items like mouthwash and toothpaste that had been opened or not in the original packaging, and make-up.  Do you can see why it was such a pain in the ass?  I also had to pack for the weekend for myself, Poppy, and the cats. 

I dropped the cats off to the vet Friday morning before work.  This was after looking for Trixie for 20 minutes, finding her behind the washing machine, using a broom to get her out, grabbing her, backing her into the carrier ass first, and finally locking her in.  A couple of scratches later and with sweat streaming down my head and face, the mission was accomplished.  Why did I bother starting the day with a shower?  This fiasco cut into my flea combing time and now the cats would have to be dropped off without it.  Embarrassing but it is out of my hands.

It just happened to work out that my mother was out of town this past weekend so it was just Poppy and me camped out until Sunday afternoon when my landlord was to text me the “all clear” and Poppy and I could return home.  The time frame provided was the whole afternoon and being just a tad OCD I forced myself to relax into the unknown.  I did not have control over it so I let go of it.

Something else I had to lean into and accept was that I would be without internet access unless I wanted to leave Poppy alone and venture out and TV options would be greatly diminished as my mother’s viewing needs are not the same as mine.  I knew that I would probably feel a little like I was marooned on a small island.  It ended up feeling more like a mini vacation.  I was stuck in the situation so I thought of it as a forced exile from the pressure of errands and other routine weekend rituals.

Poppy was so excited, knowing where we were by the change in the smell of the air that blew from the car’s air conditioner.  He ran into my mother’s house expecting to be greeted by Teddy, Shadow, and Nana.  As he made his way into the living room, I could see him realize that that the house was empty.  It was a little too weird for him and he didn't eat much for the remainder of our time there.  I didn't know that it was possible, but when we went to bed he was glued to my side even more.  When I would move him over to make room for myself in the bed he would panic. 

It was weird for me, too.  I would go to my laptop to indulge in internet time and remember I couldn't.  There was no TV guide/menu button on the remote so I had to flip through the channels or sit on channel 2 watching the channel programming scroll.  Then, I found HD channels that weren't listed anywhere. 

I started reading a new book, thanks to my brother-in-law’s mother who supplied me with a grocery bag full of them from which to choose.

All night it was quiet unlike at home where there is always something going on because of the street sweeper company next door that does most of their work in the overnight hours, my crazy sometimes druggy sometimes fighting neighbors across the street, or the Hispanic families a bit down the street celebrating someone’s birthday with a loud music-filled party.

Poppy got a lot of walks and I sweated some more in the heat and humidity of Florida.  People that didn’t know me waved to me from their cars as they drove by.  One man barked from out of his open car window.  I’m still unsure as to why he thought that would be funny.  I donated a poop bag from my roll to a lady whose miniature Dachshund had diarrhea.  I answered the door to a neighbor who asked if while she went back up north for a couple of months my mother would water her hanging plant.  I told her to just add it to the rest of them and it would be no problem.

I took a relaxing bath with ¼ of a jar of Dead Sea bath salts on Friday night and then again Saturday night.  Since I only have a shower at home, I took advantage of what has become a luxury.  Poppy also got a bath but I don’t think he considered his relaxing or a luxury.

Because Poppy was feeling off kilter, my only outing was when I went out Saturday night for Chinese take-out, a small gift and card for my mother, and lottery tickets.

Sunday afternoon around 1 p.m. I got the text from my landlord the tenting company took some readings and it was safe to return.  Woohoo!  I packed all of our stuff back up, made sure to take out the trash, clean any dirty dishes, and make our footprint as small as possible. 

I picked up the cats after work tonight and now we are back home and hopefully flea free.  I spent the weekend in the Twilight Zone.  It is good to feel normal again.  Relatively speaking.

How do I use the plug in the bathroom?

This is how.