Does anyone think anymore?

WHAT’S GOING ON???

What’s going on? Are they giving out free stupidity pills? More people’s brains are on vacation or something these days. Is it part of a nasty plot to destroy us all? Computers don’t yet know how to think and people have already forgotten how. I’m at a total loss to explain it.

LOOKING FOR AN EXERCISE CLASS

Looking for an exercise class for seniors at a nearby facility, I ambled over and spoke with their ‘Program Director’. (Impressive title, no?) She told me the program was on their bulletin board.

I have macular degeneration and don’t see well. Besides, I’m shorter than I used to be and was short to begin with, so the sign she pointed at was impossible for me to see.

OH, I GOOFED. THIS PHOTO WAS FOR ME

‘Please write it down for me.’ I politely requested and asked about membership fees and what the classes cost. I’d never been a member. Wouldn’t these questions hint at that??? She’d certainly never seen me before.

At home, I read: Tues. 8:30 am – 9:30 am, Thurs. 9 am – 10 am. It was Wednesday. The next morning, I got up extra early. Everything takes longer than it used to, but I did well and was at their door at 8:45 a.m. They weren’t there. The receptionist came out, locking the doors behind her. I asked about the class.

WHAT WAS SHE THINKING???

Oh, that doesn’t start until next week. It says so on the notice.’

‘Can you tell me why I wasn’t told that by the program director? Especially since I told her I couldn’t see the notice? What was she thinking?

Seems like no one knows anything anymore. I may even need to include myself — especially when I count on others. But, I won’t give up.

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Kamikaze gnats up my nose…

I wasn’t included

I’m a kindly sort.

There was a top-secret executive meeting at my place and I wasn’t invited. The decision was made to select methods with which to best plague the lady of the house — me. If I’d known about this sadistic plot, I would have/could have purchased whatever deadly weaponry it would have taken to eliminate the deadly enemy right off. (Let it be known, these do exist.) But, I had no idea what was in the air and — I’m a kindly sort.

Naively, I thought I could just live with these bothersome intruders until my balcony was replaced and then move them outdoors where they belong. But they would not have it. They obviously like it here.

If you read my posts, you know I’ve been invaded by an army of gnats. They’ve emerged from the soil in the plants I moved into my dining area while the balcony is being replaced. (I had no idea it would take this long.)

I told you I have an army of gnats.

Angry gnat

Divisions of dive-bomber gnats are now attacking me. Their spies slyly wait until I’m relaxed in front of my computer or TV, and like kamikaze pilots, faster than you can say ‘gnats’, fly up into my nose. In formation, they dive and then fly up — my right nostril. Never the left nostril. Honest! Only the right. And they do this often. Weird, no?

Kamikaze dive-bomber gnat

Another knat

Why this preference? Darned if I know? Do you?

Well, I’m gonna fight back. Next time I’m out, I’m going to the hardware store and get some of that there yellow sticky paper the gnats apparently love and see if I can catch some of their top pilots when they dive-bomb onto what they (may?) think is a landing strip. Then we’ll see WHO means business around here.

And, if that doesn’t work, I’m gonna get my infamous Famiglia after them. Deze guys is real scary.

My infamous Famiglia. Dese guys is real scary…

Planning the perfect murder…

photo by Chandra

I noticed him hiding in the other bathroom. I didn’t panic. I’d done that years before when one of his pals had pulled the same stunt and I wasn’t going to do the panic thing again. No way!

Last time I was terrified. I slammed the door shut. Flew helter-skelter to my bedroom. Wrapped myself up like a burrito in blankets and pulled the top sheet over my face. (Anyone seeing me would have thought me already dead.)

This time, I tiptoed quietly back to my bed to — THINK. What to do?? Use your head lady! Let’s plan this — carefully.

He was obviously smaller than the last guy, but he had longer legs. Did being smaller make him more vulnerable?

No matter. I came up with a plan. I’d quietly creep back there, catch him unawares and pour scalding hot water all over him. That ought to do it!

I did! I poured and poured until he had to be dead. Quickly I grabbed a clean tissue from a nearby box and, just in case he could rise again, before you could say ‘Green Eggs and Ham’, scooped him up and flushed him down the toilet. Whoosh!

Is it true it will rain if you kill a spider? Maybe so and I’ll be responsible. I also know they serve a purpose, but they do scare me — probably because I know so little about them.

This time success made me feel invincible….

P.S. To read what happened last time, read:  ’Murder in the Bedroom’
by clicking on: https://viewfromoverthehill.wordpress.com/2013/09/

Susan’s satire…

SATIRE: (noun) The use of humour, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticize people’s stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary topical or political issues.

Daughter Susan

Daughter Susan is puzzled by the attitudes of some U.S. citizens in the midst of the horrifying number of COVID:19 cases in their country. She wrote and shared this satire with me and I’m sharing it with you.

Hi Maughm: A little satire for you, inspired by thinking about people who refuse to wear masks in public…

‘I love America and I love Freedom. I don’t believe that the government has a right to tell me what to do and what not to do. I am completely capable of making my own decisions regarding what is good for me and for those around me. If you don’t like it, well, you don’t love this country and you’re a damn Socialist so you should go live in China.

I enjoy shooting guns in the air

Some people try to tell me not to do the things it is my god-given right to do. For example, I really enjoy shooting guns into the air. Sure, the bullets might hurt some people now and again as they come down, but they’re unlikely to die. Besides, more people die each year from the flu than from people firing bullets into the air, so why worry? If some stupid sheeple who love Big Government breathing down their necks are scared of my shooting, they can just choose to stay home.

People also often object to my choice to drink

Seat belts — never wear one

before and while driving. That is just ridiculous! Yeah, some drunk drivers might hit and kill people, but more people die each year from the flu than from drunk drivers, so why should I be denied this enjoyable activity? And don’t get me started on seat belts — never wear one, never would, even when I’m sober.

I also don’t want my kids wearing seatbelts. I’m raising them to be strong, independent Americans, and they need to understand how valuable our freedoms are. You force someone to wear a seat belt, the next thing you know they’re calling you comrade and forcing you into a health care program that allows everyone to get treatment when they need it without losing their home from the bills. That is just un-American!

Speaking of my kids, I also don’t buy into that government regulation crap about kids needing to be 16 to drive. My kids might not be able to see over the steering wheel yet, but that’s no reason to deprive them of their freedoms. They’ll probably only hit the old people who can’t get out of the way fast enough, or those slowed down by pre-existing health conditions, so who cares? Besides, the idea that young children are too immature to drive responsibly is a hoax the Democrats thought up to hurt our beloved president. All those statistics and articles in the media about young drivers killing people are FAKE NEWS!’

Where did 2019 go?

It’s December. Where the heck did 2019 go? I remember when it started. Seems like yesterday. Is it a plot? Whatever, it surely is a despicable act. Whoever stole it is a truly evil villain and should be hung from the rafters.

 

In January I was extremely excited

I was thrilled with this 2019 calendar

about the new calendar my Chandra gave me. It featured Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg doing her exercise workout. I was thrilled with it. I also remember wondering what to get Joe for his birthday. The guy is so creative with surprising me with unusual gifts for my birthday or whatever, it’s hard to do as well. ( Of course I know I don’t really have to.)

Wasn’t that just yesterday? What happened? How did it ever get to be December? Today, I started calling around to see if I may have forgotten 2019 somewhere in the neighborhood. After all, I AM becoming a little forgetful.

My local Safeway

 

I checked at my local Safeway. The gal at the service desk had no idea where it could be. She looked at me in utter confusion. She must not be too bright….

 

Then, I tried the Apple Farm

My local Apple Farm

where I buy my fruits and veggies. They had my gray gloves behind their counter and were happy to get rid of them, but nowhere did they have the year I lost.

I enjoy breakfast at Terra’s

 

I’m a determined sort. I went over to Terra’s, where I like to have breakfast. They once found my hearing aid, which fell out of my pocket, surely if they found 2019 they’d keep it for me. But, no, they didn’t have my year either.

The bakery where I sometimes buy bread?  ‘2019? You’re looking for 2019??? Lady, have you lost it?’
‘Yes. I’ve lost it.’ What doesn’t she get?

I’m no quitter

If I were a quitter, I’d have given up, but I’m not. I decided to check at home. It can happen. I sometimes misplace stuff, don’t you? I looked under my bed. Nothing but dust bunnies there. Was it in a closet? No. A kitchen cabinet? No. The linen closet? No, no, no! Goodness me. I REALLY can’t find it.

 

Hey, we can use a little help here. Do you have it? This just isn’t fair….

WE need to build a wall…

WE need to build a wall…

Just got back this week from California. Had a grand time there with loved ones who treated me royally. Bless their hearts. How I love them and appreciate their consideration and kindness.

Still, there was a strange feeling of unease in the air. Something’s going on….

Trump’s wall south of the US

California is short of water again and that’s no joke. Residents are being careful with the precious stuff while the state is dealing with wild fires. Folks have had to evacuate and some even lost their homes.

People are losing their homes

I, myself, saw burned down trees and brush right off the freeway we were driving on in the San Fernando Valley. It was also hot, which they tried to hide from me with air-conditioning, but they couldn’t fool me. I’m too smart for them.

Avocados need a lot of water

California grows much of the fruits and veggies we in Canada buy. Those groves of trees and fields of veggies need water. Lots and lots of it. Luscious avocados, so popular

Lettuce fields need to be watered

with us now, need to be watered 2-3 times a week. Lettuce fields need to be watered. I just told you they’re short of that liquid. Where do you think they’ll try to get it from?

Aha! Think man think!

Not difficult to cross this border

Naturally, they’ll declare war on Canada so they can get their unwashed hands on our glorious, clear water!

Listen, just maybe that’s the real reason why Trump withdrew his U.S. troops from Turkey and Syria — because he wants them at home so they can be well-trained and ready to invade his northern neighbor and grab possession of our lakes and rivers! Then, he’ll build a few golf courses to rub it in.

WE need to build a wall…

We must stop this disaster from happening. WE need to build a wall along our southern border — and the US should pay for it. What’s fair is fair, right?

P.S. I apologize to all my dear American friends. Just couldn’t resist being naughty.

 

They’re at it again…..

Look under the bed

Look under the bed. Shut the blinds. Check behind the

Shut the blinds.

door. Lock all the entrances. Is that a rustle behind the shower curtain? They can be anywhere — and they’re at it again.

They’ve tried this on me before and didn’t succeed. They’re working harder at it this time. They’re evil and devious and devilishly, cleverly persistent. They worked so hard to confuse me with those elevator buttons — remember? (If you don’t, go to the right side of my blog’s home page, and under ‘Archives’, click on February, 2015.) They didn’t manage to destroy me then. You’d think they’d just give up! No way…..

They’re evil and devious

Who are they? ‘THEM’. You know them. ‘They’ who spend sleepless

them

nights trying to figure out just how to make me confused and feeling inadequate. How are they trying to do this you ask? Aha! With those totally bewildering, darned credit-card machines they use in restaurants — that’s how!

credit-card machines

When those suckers first came out they were mostly all the same. If you knew how to use the one at the coffee shop, you could easily use the one at the Sushi place. No more mister! Now, each machine is different. Vaaasssttly different. Why? Is this necessary? Of course not! It is yet another scheme to try to make ME feel unsophisticated and stupid. They aren’t fooling me. I’ve got their number even if I don’t understand how to use those blankety-blank machines.

Yikes! A rustle behind the shower curtains?

Have you noticed how the ‘suggested’ tip begins at 15%? Well, maybe you’re not a big-time spender and you don’t want all the waiters to know. How can you manage that without the waiter’s help if the machine is different from any you’ve ever used before? Or, let’s say you want to tip the waiter who served you stale bread and cold soup 10% instead of 15%, you’d have to KNOW how to change the stupid doohickey, or be forced to ask the very person who mistreated you how to lower it! They know that would be uncomfortable. There’s no way to win.

What in the world are those ridiculous machines called anyway. I asked a waiter at a local eatery yesterday. He didn’t know, but perhaps that’s because it’s a vegetarian place. All waiters who work at vegetarian restaurants suffer from meat deprivation. He said they call them ‘Pin Pads’. Well, that isn’t at all what they are. Lucky you dear reader, I’m here to inform you. Not that I knew, but I do have some smart friends.

Samantha, who knows all, told me today. Ready? They’re called POS Terminals. Ha, ha! They’re hoping I never figure it out, so they don’t tell many people. They think when they succeed and I’m in a padded cell, they can just make the world a better place by destroying them all.

in a padded cell

Our family’s ‘Rashomon’….

‘RASHOMON’: If Mr. Google is right, the famous ‘Rashomon’ had it’s roots in a Noh play originally written in 1420. In the 1990s I saw a performance in Vancouver. Each of the three characters, the Samarai, his wife, and a bandit told their own version of what happened while traveling on a highway. The wife claimed the bandit raped her, the bandit had a totally different slant on things, and the Samarai gave yet another story altogether. I’ve never forgotten it.

The following is my family’s ‘Rashomon’:

SUSAN’S VERSION:

Last visit’s winnah!!!

My mother is a thief. She steals from her own children. Last time I visited, she stole shirts right off my back and had me go home in a London Drugs plastic bag. Oh the horror!

She may be no taller than a bean sprout, but mom’s a formidable fighter, strengthened by exercise classes and those martial arts moves she learns in Tai-Chi! For revenge I wanted my red shirt back.

THE SHIRT THEFT SAGA, ACT TWO: One Good Theft Deserves Another

I needed backup, so convinced my hubby, Michael, to come along on this visit and briefed him on my plans. At first we acted sweetly to lull mom into a false sense of security. Later, I snuck into her bedroom closet looking for the shirt. There were other red shirts, but not MINE!

Other red shirts but not mine

There it was!

That dastardly foe had anticipated I would search her closet and hid the shirt! After cogitating, I deduced she’d keep it close.

Right, it was in the guest room where she was sleeping. I silently slunk in, slid open the closet door and there it was!

Oh joy, bliss, rapture! My beautiful red shirt in my own hands! Now to take it without her catching me. I decided to make a break for it, hoping she wouldn’t see me dash into the next room.

Unfortunately, mom suspected something was afoot. Michael tried to stop her, but she came flying down the hallway just as I was trying to make good my escape! I was caught RED-handed! There was no denying it. It was game on!

 

Caught red-handed!

Mom tugged for all she was worth, I tried my best against her superior strength.
Faithful hubby jumped into the fray!

We pulled. We tugged. We tugged and pulled, That little old lady didn’t give up! Finally we proved too much for her.

We pulled. We tugged.

Mom got her second wind and came out SWINGING, determined to take out the seditious son-in-law. Her reach, however, didn’t match her rage and Michael was able to hold her off with nary a scrape.

“Rocky” Kauffmann threw in the towel and

triumph at last!

conceded defeat. I donned the red shirt triumphantly, Michael agrees it looks great. Mom wept just to elicit sympathy hoping she’d get it back. Not a chance, Light-fingers Lil!

 

 

MY VERSION:

Daughter Susan visited again. I knew she was seeking revenge. This time she brought backup. Hubby Michael is about 6’5”, which is intimidating enough at my 4’11’. Besides Susan let it drop he bench-presses 300 pounds ‘just like that’. Why would she tell me that? To scare me of course?

Michael at breakfast

MIchael showed up at breakfast wearing his Superman pajamas, claiming he forgot his robe. A likely story, they wanted me to see his bulging biceps and rippling muscles, that’s why.

I’m a loving mother. I try to be nice. I offered Susan one of my special, expensive china cups/mugs for morning tea. Did she accept? No! She had to have the treasured mug a particular friend painted for me all by himself as a bIrthday gift.

Does it pay to have children?

I also gave the kids my bedroom (Michael’s too tall for my trundle bed) and told Susan not to bring a robe — I have more than one. What did she do? She PURPOSELY picked the robe said special friend sent me to wear when I had hip surgery.

I looked at her sitting smugly at the breakfast table. It was just too much! What lack of consideration. Awggghhh. Does it pay to have children?

Grubby Susan at it again! Will this never end?

 

Does Susan appreciate that the London Drugs Plastic bag I kindly gave her to go home in last time have become the latest trend? (You can purchase same at their stores.)

Who could beat Superman???

There are limits to how much even I can fight. Who could beat Superman???

To top it off, the RED shirt I won fair and square then has disappeared. She’s taken it. Susan and BIG BAD MIKE were just too much. Oh, woe is me….

Praises and Pet Peeves

photo by my dear Chandra

Goodness me! Where did the days go? Seems like I spend more time at ordinary tasks these days — necessary and unnecessary. My San Francisco loved ones visited over the New Year and as always, treated me with more consideration than I deserve. Only after they left did I realize I hadn’t washed dishes while they were here!

The accrued laundry is still awaiting my attention and I let it wait because I had other priorities once they were gone. (Happy Birthday Joseph!) Then my exercise and Tai Chi classes started again and let’s face it, nothing seems more important than keeping this old body of mine moving. Time passed quickly and I’m only now sitting down at my computer to talk to you.

Keeping this old body of mine moving

I was going to write about pet peeves, but let’s face it, what in the world do I have to complain about? Someone as lucky as I am must, therefore, include praises as well.

Bless our bus drivers

Since I no longer drive, I use our transit service. I also use a walker, I’m slow, (I was never fast.) and must praise our bus drivers who are patient, thoughtful, and caring. They wait patiently until I am safely on-board and seated before they restart the bus. They tell me to take my time when I disembark. We are certainly fortunate to have such wonderful people at the wheel.

Bless helpful strangers

I also find strangers extremely kind. When I want to enter a store or cafe, someone will most often come forward to open doors for me. Am I deserving of such attention and kindness? They don’t ask. They don’t care. They just DO. I’m grateful. It isn’t always easy to push a walker through a doorway.

Talking about praises, I also must praise and am mighty grateful to my children who take time out of their own busy lives to not only visit and cheerfully put up with me when I visit them, but help me with whatever my needs are, especially my tenuous relationship with this computer. Seems to me, as soon as I get comfortable with a program, they (whoever ‘they’ are) ‘update’ the darn thing and get me all confused again. How do the younger people manage???

Which brings me to pet peeves. That’s one of them. I’m convinced it’s a conspiracy to

Feet off the seats please

keep me humble. ‘They’ want me feeling stupid and they’re definitely succeeding. I don’t know what to make of this computer most of the time. Grrrrrrr.

Pet peeves? On the bus, in movies and restaurants, some people will put their feet on the seats. Look guys, you walk on the sidewalk. People walk their dogs on the sidewalk. Dogs urinate on the sidewalk, they also sometimes defecate on those surfaces. Yuk! Please don’t put your shoes up where others have to sit.

 

Yes, I love them, but please keep them leashed on streets.

And, talking about dogs, I implore dog owners to walk their dogs on-leash on city streets. Yes, I love dogs but I’m uncomfortable with them prancing around my feet. My balance is lousy and I worry about falling — again. Most of us deal with balance deterioration as we age, so this is not only a problem for me. Besides, I have friends who are terrified of dogs, either having been bitten or taught to fear them.

 

I don’t know what else to complain about, but I’ll bet you do. What pleases or irks YOU?

Are they out to get me?

Are they out to get me?

It’s all Brian’s fault. He had this fabulous guide put out by Harvard Medical School called ‘A Guide to Cognitive Fitness’. I read it with interest while I was his house guest. It offers ‘6 steps to optimizing brain function and improving brain health’.

My brain still functions well enough for me to realize I need help in that area, so I was determined to put into practice some of the suggestions the brilliant people at Harvard had to offer.

It told you what to expect of your brain after 50, 60, 70, or 80. What was Brian doing reading about the aging brain? Was he just telling me I’m getting forgetful? To me, the guy was still a kid. Then I realized that while I’d been aging, so had he and everyone else. I wasn’t the only one interested in the aging brain!

Did I make it up or did it really say it was normal for my age to lose some of your short-term memory? That gave me a sense of relief. I’m normal. I would have liked to swipe the darn book so I could show that line to everyone I know, but you can’t do that when you’re someone’s guest.

Okay, my memory ain’t what it used to was, what now? It suggests learning or doing something new. I gave that thought. What can I do that’s new, interesting and fun?

I had already started to learn about Facebook, which I think, for the most part, is the biggest waste of time. (How many photos of someone’s lunch does one need to see?) However, the wise members of my book club had encouraged me to continue, because, said they: ‘It’s good to learn something new.’ (Were they giving me a message too??)

I’d never done crosswords

Something new? Something I’ve never done? Ah, crosswords. I’ve never done crosswords even though I love words. I decided to try. I had a friend who used to do the New York Crossword Puzzle completely every morning. He told me you got to learn how the guys who write them think and once you did, it got easier. Aha!

I found a crossword for dummies in a local newspaper. Well, it wasn’t called that, but it was easy enough and my friend was right, I got to know the words whoever wrote them liked to use. Even someone with my brain capacity could feel clever. I WAS able to finish them, except when they cheated by using names of athletes or actors I didn’t know. (My ten-year-old grandson could be a great resource for athletes, he knows them all — in case YOU need help with those.)

I learned something else. When I couldn’t find one or two words on the crossword and left it next to my coffee cup on the table, when I got back to it later or the next day, I COULD finish it. How come? I wonder why. (If you know, do let me know. I’m curious.)

So, why am I upset? What happened to that newspaper? Why can’t I find it all this week. I’ve looked everywhere I know they usually are and they’re not there. Is it a plot? A plan to confound my brain before it’s ready to go further?

They won’t win

THEY won’t win, I tell you! I won’t let them. I’m a fighter. I’m going to try harder ones, the kind real people are able to do. If I can’t finish them, I’ll just write in any letters I want in the blank spaces. Ha-ha! That’ll confuse them — then if they ARE out to get me, they won’t get  the satisfaction of knowing that they’ve accomplished their mission.

Wish me luck.