Just an Ant's World

I walk Lolly and Pop every night after work. A few days ago, Poppy decided to pee on an ant hill. We have red ants in Florida and they are mean SOBs. He lifted his leg and the warm stream of urine rained. Pissed off (pun intended) ants showed up to the gun and knife fight looking for blood and revenge. Poppy had already walked away. Are you an ant...or Poppy? Maybe you are me, holding the leash while watching the show. 

On Turning 56

I just woke up from a nap and it's raining. One of those typical rains with big drops and slanted. It has been a hot and rainy summer and it's fall now and I would like cooler weather. It's mid-October, for Pete's sake. It's normally cooler by now. Thank you global warming.

This Tuesday I turn 56. Around my birthday I usually write about how I feel.

Today I didn't feel like spending any money...so I didn't. Instead I took Poppy to a local park and we walked the path that encircles it. Here's a pick of Poppy I took by accident during our walk. I was trying to turn the camera off:

Here's a pic of a family of ducks that live on the pond in the park. I took this one on purpose:

 

Each year around my birthday I take stock of my life. This year I

1. Left my old job for a new job
2. Was let go at my new job by my supervisor. Not the one that hired me. She was fired from her position after I was there one week. I was let go by her replacement.
3. Was unemployed for 4 weeks
4. Landed safely and happily where I work now. 

This is one of my mother's rabbit statues with a gecko in the middle of its face. I took this yesterday as I have gotten in the habit of spending my Saturdays with Mom. This was also taken on purpose:



 Speaking of my mother, I introduced her to the new very large Goodwill store down the road. I have been getting rid of things I no longer want or need so one Saturday she and I went there to drop off my donations. Afterward, Mom wanted to see the inside of the retail store, which is next door. I plead guilty to introducing my mother to her new drug - Goodwill shopping. It is located in an upscale neighborhood so you can imagine how nice some of the things are there. 

Getting back on point, I can't take stock of my life without including her and her changes. She doesn't wash her hair often enough now. She thinks it is okay to just pull it back into a comb or barrette when it is clearly not.

My mother has always hated to cook even though her cooking is close to gourmet. This past Tuesday, she invited my younger sister and her family along with me to break the Yom Kippur fast. Beforehand we discussed the different dishes she could make. Mom decided on chicken in wine sauce. This is one of her specialties. She used to make it often and it was always mouth watering.

I got to her house a half an hour early and she took the dish out of the oven to turn the chicken over. She had used large chicken breasts instead of fillets and the chicken was clearly pink. I told her we needed to raise the oven temperature to get them cooking faster and that they wouldn't be ready on time. Mom cursed a blue streak and exclaimed how much she hated to cook. Her rant ended on, "So we'll eat late." I answered with, "I'm sure none of us have fasted anyway." We can talk about how bad of a Jew I am another time.

 Here is a pic of a racoon mom and her baby keeping an eye on me while I walked to my mailbox. Mom climbed high in the trees and her baby followed:



Getting back to my mother. Her cooking one of her go-to dishes incorrectly was a road sign flashing in my face. 



Yesterday I spent the day with Mom. Her behavior was not the norm. For the past few months I have gotten used to her sometimes having a hard time following conversations and being able to call up a word but yesterday her personality was different. On top of that, once we got back to her house after all the running around we did (I always do the driving now), I laid down on the couch with Poppy and fell into a light sleep. I could hear Mom puttering around cleaning her new treasures and deciding where they should go. Then, it was silent. I opened my eyes to see her sitting on the couch doing nothing. No book. No TV. No newspaper. Just sitting staring straight ahead. I asked her why she was just sitting there. She said she didn't want to wake me up by turning on the TV. Mind you, there are two other rooms with working televisions she could have watched without disturbing me but that didn't cross her mind.

I am starting to lose my mother. For those of you that have experienced or are experiencing an aging parent, it feels like a part of you is disappearing. Trying to hold onto a wisp of smoke as you watch it disperse and disappear.

As I turn 56, it is bittersweet. So much of my life is finally on track. Now the part I could always count on is starting to get offtrack. As a former Russian co-worker would say, "Not nice."

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.

One Dollar

When I tell people I live near downtown Sarasota, they get all starry eyed as their minds fill up with thoughts of beautiful high-rise condos and amazing sunsets.  Their fantasy melts like hot wax when I tell them my neighborhood is a few blocks to the north of downtown and it is composed of Hispanics, Blacks, and Whites, in that order.  I am not rich.  I don't have a partner, rich or poor.

As their thoughts of utopia wave bye-bye in their mind's rear view mirror, they come back to reality.

Because of Lithuanian descendants, I am dark haired with olive skin darkened even more by the sun.  When I take Poppy out for his walks, it isn't unusual for me to be approached by people.  He is a cutie-pie and we all know it!  They say, "¿Cómo está usted?" or "¿Cómo está?" It has happened enough that now I reply with, "Fine.  You?"  It is when they walk up to me and speak a whole lot of Spanish that I have to respond with, "I don't speak Spanish."

It is an interesting place to live and when I visit my mother, and I do every week, who lives in money-is-no-object suburbia, it is a bit of a culture shock.  There is no blending of the races because everyone is one race...at least that has been my experience so far.  I walk my dog there, too, but usually not alone as my mother has two of her own.  We do it together and our goal is getting to the dog park which is located around the block next to the kid's playground which is located next to the bocce ball area which is located next to the 2 pools and 1 Jacuzzi which are attached to the clubhouse.

What am I trying to say?  I live in a poor neighborhood.  I was in the Save-A-Lot a couple of nights ago for milk and being that it is the closest grocery store I opted for convenience.  As I am walking to my car with a box bottom filled with a few heavy items, I see a man holding money in his hands counting it.  I knew what was going to happen and instead of turning my head signaling that he should not approach me, I kept looking at his unshaven face as I rested the box on my trunk.  As he walked over to me he said, "Ma'am.  Do you have 79 cents?  I am embarrassed to have to ask but I need...."  I couldn't make out exactly what he needed it for but it didn't matter.  Was it the truth anyway?  I would never know.  I opened my wallet and counted my change.  "I only have 54 cents," I said.  His face fell with disappointment and the bubble over his head read,"What am I going to do now?"  He wasn't expecting me to finish my sentence with, "So here is one dollar."  I took it out of my wallet and gave it to him.  As he reached out his hand to take it, he was a bit stunned.  Then thanked me and thanked me again and wished me a great night.  He was smiling and all it took was one dollar.  What he doesn't know is that he made me more happy than I made him.  I felt it best to leave it at that.