Rafi & Chandra’s garden

I ALSO LOVE THE FAMILY DOG, GERMAINE, WHO I’M CUDDLING HERE

HUMMINGBIRD VISITING CHANDRA & RAFI’S GARDEN

Before my son Rafi was old enough for school, prior to my leaving for work each morning we’d do what I called our ‘Inspection Tour’ of our garden, which I loved. He grew to love it too.

RAFI AND CHANDRA’S GARDEN

RAFI & CHANDRA’S GARDEN

MORE OF RAFI & CHANDRA’S GARDEN

Together we’d look for new blossoms, fruit or maybe even a baby tomato or radish.

Rafi named all our plants and we greeted each by name with a hearty ‘Good morning’.

(One was called ‘George’ because Rafi so enjoyed the ‘Curious George’ books.) I still believe plants like to be talked to.

I’m not surprised that today Rafi loves his own garden. Fortunately, his dear Chandra loves it as well and they spend countless happy hours together working to make and keep it beautiful. Mine was nice enough, but theirs is absolutely gorgeous!!

Aside from being spoiled rotten when I recently visited, I had the pleasure of looking directly out the door from my own room right into the colourful garden. What a beautiful sight to wake up to. What more could anyone want?

MORE OF CHANDRA AND RAFI‘S GARDEN

Every morning Rafi brought me coffee and breakfast and brought Germaine down to visit me. Chandra, Remy and Rafi carried meals down on large trays from upstairs for us to eat either in the garden, or in my suite. I gloried in being spoiled.

After I left, poor Germaine missed me and waited for me outside my door.

I GUESS GERMAINE MISSED ME. I MISS HIM TOO!

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Happy Birthday…

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Another birthday. Another hope that this one, at last, would bring me some wisdom. The night before I turned 86, a venerable age indeed, I crawled into bed hopeful. Surely it was time for wisdom to arrive, right???

The next morning I awoke without an iota more of that valuable stuff. Oh, well — perhaps it will happen next year.

SUSAN’S BIRTHDAY GREETING. YAHOO!

Meanwhile, daughter Susan sent me the above greeting for my special day. I enjoyed it so much, I had to share it with you lucky folks.

IS GRANDSON REMY TALL OR AM I SHORT???

Just visited loved ones in San Francisco who drove me to Nevada to visit daughter Susan and her Michael. Susan and I, as we often do, got into some mischief. Shall share some of that on my next post. Be patient…

As always, I was spoiled rotten by everyone and will be impossible for months to come.

Looks like grandson Remy keeps getting taller and taller and I keep getting shorter and shorter.

By the way, it is Susan’s birthday on August, 7th. If you can, wish HER a happy birthday.

Eating out — thank goodness.

ONCE UPON A TIME…

Once upon a time long, long ago, I worked full-time and invited friends to dinners too. We’d have a children’s table, our large dining-room table extended with a folding table, plus extra places on the upright piano seat with place-mats on the flat surface over the keys. Those days are looonnnngggg gone.

A friend and I had lunch together yesterday. She’s interesting, I love her. She’s a devoted vegan. I didn’t have to worry — we ate out. Friday I’m having dinner with a young vegetarian. He’s my kind-of grandson. He’s been busy and hasn’t had much time for us to get together so I’m delighted. Again, I don’t have to worry — we’re eating out.

WHAT CAN I FIX FOR HER??

During this pandemic, some people won’t eat in restaurants. I respect that. Sometimes one special friend and I have lunch on a park bench nearby. She has definite food needs and always brings the lunch. I want to reciprocate, but aren’t brave enough. What can I fix for her??

MY OLD ARTHRITIC BONES DON’T MAKE APPOINTMENTS

Meanwhile years have passed and everything seems to take more energy. Energy? Where did that go? It eludes me at will and some days I can’t seem to hustle any muscle at all. My old arthritic bones act up whenever THEY choose. They aren’t thoughtful. They never make appointments ahead of time. I can’t picture many dinners happening at my place anymore, which is just as well. What would planning a homemade dinner look like? I’d rather treat when we eat out.

WHAT PEOPLE EAT TODAY IS MORE COMPLICATED

It seems what everyone eats today is more complicated. What my older friends consume is sometimes affected by health issues like high-cholesterol, diabetes, ulcers, medications requiring them to avoid certain foods, or allergies — and goodness knows what.

Do we become delicate flowers with age? Yup! What I used to call a cast-iron stomach doesn’t exist any more! I, myself, have developed allergies! (I’ve been told these develop as we get older, but I also believe some of it is due to chemicals added to our food to extend shelf life.)

MY KIDS ENTERTAIN A LOT

My San Francisco kids do a lot of entertaining. Their friends are younger and don’t seem to be affected as much by medical conditions as my older friends. I guess I’ll just leave the dinner parties to them. If you visit me — let’s eat out.

A Love Story…

When I asked daughter Susan if I may post the following epic tale, she declared that anyone who IS anyone would want to be familiar with her brilliant saga. Here is what she sent out to friends.
(I’d scanned the original, but shall spare you the difficulties of reading same.)

photo by Chandra

‘So, my mom is going through some old files of hers and is finding all kinds of detritus from the distant past of our lives. One item she unearthed is a story which I must have written when I was extremely young, maybe around seven years old, judging by the spelling. My conclusion after reading this epic tale of heroism and romance: My mother was clearly putting LSD in my Cheerios! How else does a child come up with a story like this one, called, “The Pickle and the Stick”:
(Original spelling preserved)

Susan, left, could be about that age in this photo

Once thare was a pickle. It was locked up in a jar. Thare was a stick. One day the jar with the pickle fell out of a bag. the stick had gest left tree. The stick saw the pickles helplessa nd stranded; He opend the jar. all the pickles wher sour-harted all but one. she was a vary nice kind harted one. she asked the stick to please help her out. The stick did as she pleased (the pickle) The pickle said she would repay his kindness some how. The stick who was very polite said, “how nice of you.” Back at the jar the pickles had bad luck. a boy kicked them into the gutter and a car ran over them. that was the end, at least of them. the stick just then was picked up by a boy. He was going to brake Sirr stick in half! The pickle took a big, big breth and just in time FOOOOOOOOOOOO! Out came a tarabell noise. The pickle saved his life. They got marieyed and lived happily ever after.

The attached drawing is something I threw together with some help from the internet, inspired by reading this story. No, I am not currently on acid!’

—

Why my crazy trip was worth it…

I had to pose with Remy so he’d know how much I enjoyed these trees

Australian Tea tree

I’d informed son Rafi my knees didn’t enjoy hills any more. He and grandson Remy put their heads together and chose parks without hills for my daily walks. The first had these wonderful trees I couldn’t resist. We went again and again so I could pose with Rafi, then Remy, and when Susan joined us, back we went to pose yet again!

Just had to once again pose by one of those wonderful trees with Rafi AND Susan when she arrived.

Yes, we took walks elsewhere as well. Every morning Rafi walked the family dog, Germaine, we dropped Remy off at soccer camp, and Rafi walked me. (He wasn’t going to let me slack off. He knows how important it is for me to keep moving.)

Another walk by the water

Germaine walks me at the nearby dog park. It was cold. I was grateful to Chandra, who gave me the snuggly, warm jacket with a hood. (My very first hoodie!)

The few times we couldn’t find the time to visit another park, I took my walk at the dog park under the supervision of Germaine, who made sure I got in enough steps. He took every step with me! Ha, ha.

Rafi at 20. What a hunk! I’d never seen this photo before.

Rafi ordered this little man for my home-made terrarium. The little guy seems happy in his new home with his bottle of wine.

Chandra, always creative, made a beautiful photo album for Rafi as a birthday gift. I had never seen some of those old photos and got a kick out of seeing, for the first time, some taken years ago. (She also made an album for him of what friends and family members thought of him. It was lovely to read.)

We celebrated everyone’s birthday. I’d just celebrated a venerable one, Rafi had a recent birthday and so had Susan. We laughed a lot and I discovered my grandson, Remy, had a crazy sense of humour. (Wonder where he got that from??? Ha, ha.) Also an avid reader, Remy shared books with me when I ran out of reading material. It was just a great visit. I could not have asked for more.

Rafi and I shopped for plants at the nursery — the kids have a beautiful garden. I looked for a little man to live in my home-made terrarium, but they didn’t have one. Rafi ordered one for me, tried NOT to tell me right away, but was so excited about it, he couldn’t wait to surprise me, but when he said: ‘I bought you something’. I immediately guessed what it was. Yeah! See him above. The little guy loves his new home.

I’m holding on to the memory of the wonderful time I had and how spoiled I was by everyone. The morning breakfasts I had with Rafi, the time we all spent together was worth all the nonsense and stupidity of the rules and regulations I had to deal with to travel across the border during COVID.

Rafi sent me this photo of Germaine waiting at my door after I’d gone home. Well, I miss him too. He was particularly gentle with me.

Daughters should not be funnier than their moms…

Daughter Susan

My children are smarter, better looking and taller than I am. That’s okay. However, there are limits — and the fact they are definitely funnier is going too far. It is not only embarrassing, but humiliating as well. For instance, here’s a recent email I received from Susan.

“So, I get it. I’m not as attractive as I used to be. And in my bathrobe on a morning when I just don’t feel that great, I look pretty dumpy. But SCARY? TERRIFYING? A VISION OF UTMOST HORROR? That is apparently what my horse, Kodachrome, thought of me when I toddled out to the paddock in my bathrobe yesterday morning.

Now, you have to understand that Koda is normally an incredibly brave horse — almost freakishly unflappable when encountering things that would send most horses running for the hills. Things dropped right next to him and making loud clattering noises or even bumping into him? Meh, not worth batting an eyelash. Leaf blower kicking up a storm of dust while making a deafening roar? Gee, looks like fun — maybe it would make a good toy. Taking off your jacket while riding him and throwing it on the fence? No problemo —yawn.

But SUSAN showing up in her BATHROBE??? RUN FOR YOUR FREAKING LIFE!!! Yeah sure, the lower part flapped open a bit, perhaps showing more of my fish-belly white legs. And yeah, those same legs could use a shave. But really? You would think the pit of hell had suddenly sprung open and disgorged a fire-breathing monster with ten heads the way he took of and went flying around the place!

Koda did eventually circle back when said monster started speaking with what seemed like his beloved mom’s voice. But his eyes were bugging out of his head, his nostrils flaring, every muscle fiber firing in case the necessity for flight appeared again. Perhaps he thought I was being eaten by the beast and came to see if he could save me.

He did eventually seem to realize that the bathrobe clad me was not a deadly dragon and he approached and let me pet him, but he kept a wary eye on that flappy part of the robe and clearly held the entire getup highly suspect.

Really, Koda — I don’t look THAT bad in the morning…do I?”

—

—
Susan Kauffmann
Lead author, The Essential Hoof Book
TheEssentialHorse.info
(775) 847-0547

My body needs my exercise classes…

I miss a lot of things these days. I miss my children who live in the U.S. — the border is closed. We love to laugh and behave nutty.

I miss friends I can’t see. I miss my book club. I miss using public transportation. (Protective loved ones don’t want me to.) My body, however, misses my Arthritis ‘Joint-works’ class I attended before the pandemic.

Stretching

Dr. Google says there are about 360 joints in our bodies, and mine are loudly complaining about neglect, especially when I try to sleep.

I INTENDED to do them. I know how important they are, but somehow, it hasn’t happened as often as it should.

My bike’s easy

It ought to be easy, I’ve been good about using my Exercycle for years, but that takes little effort. Climb on, click on the DVD I’m currently watching, and viola.

Rebecca, Brian & me

Rebecca and Brian, my wonderful L.A. ‘kids’, exercise on their own at home every day. They never miss. But, too often, I do and my old bones aren’t happy. The ‘Joint-works’ routine IS complicated and requires many different movements, and I allow life to get in my way — much too often.

It was social

The class was also social and I miss that aspect of it. We all had Arthritis, had bonded, and often met for coffee afterwards. If I had been reluctant to go in the first place, I allowed myself to feel noble afterwards. It was all good.

So tell me why three weeks can now pass without ‘finding the time’ to do those exercises at home? I know they matter — I’m not totally stupid. Suggestions anyone???

COVID:19 Haircut — Yahoo!!!

I need a haircut.

Today is a very special day. I’m getting my first haircut in a long, long time. My curly hair has been having a wonderful time disobeying me and making me crazy by behaving like a hormone-crazed teenager.

 

It does just as it pleases and won’t listen to me no-how. Why should it worry? I still carefully shampoo and condition it no matter what it does. Maybe I should pull it hard until the roots hurt, but that would probably hurt me more than it would the hair.

 

Never imagined I could be so excited about something

Lynne braided my rat’s tail

so ordinary. Lynne, my stylist, will be able to make a braid with my rat’s tail and I’ll be able to send grandson Remy a photo of it. Yeah! I’m trying to act cool, but I admit to being anything but.

 

This project was front and centre when I awoke this morning. I purposely wore an old top because no matter how Lynne tries, I end up with itchy bits of hair under my shirt and tear it off as soon as I get home — unfortunately I can’t do that in the elevator. Decency requires I wait until I get into my own apartment.

Yup, sometimes I even groan.

 

Meanwhile folks, my new computer and I are doing a careful, uneasy dance around each other. I’m trying to learn more about dealing with the confusions (plural) it throws at me. It seems to endlessly enjoy seeing me in a state of despair. Yup, sometimes I even groan.

 

Last night that technological wonder gave me a new lesson on control. Dear Andrew had found a totally different game of solitaire for me. I’ve been thoroughly enjoying the new challenge while I listen to ‘Ideas’ on CBC Radio. I like to do that and by my age I feel entitled to indulge.

I could sure use that…

 

When I finally turned in, my right hand and wrist ached and complained so much I found it impossible to sleep. I’ve already had surgery on that wrist so you’d think I’d know better, but no. I still have more learning to do — about CONTROL! No more than three games at a time from now on. Wish me luck…

 

 

Learning about my computer…..

My computer was ill

My computer must be about 14 years old. When it was 11, it was ill and needed care, so I took it in to the Apple Store where I bought it. They do repairs, but refused to fix mine because, said they, it was over 10 years old. Obviously, if I didn’t buy a new one, Apple would go bankrupt for sure. Right? so, I took it elsewhere and it’s been feeling fine ever since.

 

If you think I know how to use everything on my computer you are absolutely mistaken. I’m not at all a technologically-gifted individual.

Technologically??

 

Daughter Susan visited. She deemed it of value to attempt to teach her maughm how to use something new –my computer’s built-in camera. It’s always been there, but has never ever been used before. It was an experience to remember.

The first photo. How could I resist?

 

It takes more than a little patience to teach me computer stuff, but Susan knows me well and how to keep me focused. Make me laugh and you’ve got my full attention. This Susan accomplished — in spades. She definitely had my attention after she showed me this gorgeous photo of herself.

 

Lucky you, because of Susan’s patience, you get the privilege of seeing two real beauties. Aren’t we gorgeous? Well, we sure had fun.

 

The thought of her leaving. (Note I was just coming out of a cold, I can see it in my eyes.)

After we howled with laughter, Susan diligently wrote down very clear instructions to leave for me.

Will her efforts bear fruit?

 

 

Look Susan. I just took this one of me in my reading glasses! Your instructions were great!!! Thank you! Thank you!  I love the idea of learning something new.

For you Susan. With love!

 

Friends are the family we choose….

You’ve been inundated of late by posts about visits to and from my real family. They’re in the U.S. and I’m in Canada. Their voices on the phone are enough to give me a warm fuzzy. I’d love to have them nearer — however I believe parenting requires us to allow our children to go wherever their lives take them.

I’m still surrounded by a loving CHOSEN family — and each and everyone of them is precious as well.

Me, Rebecca and Brian celebrating my birthday (private joke)

It all began, I believe, with Brian, who lives in L.A. Lunatic that he is, he decided to adopt ME as a mother. His wife Rebecca qualifies as family because I know her since she was born and was always drawn to her. Brian is very funny and manages to make me laugh out loud with his clever emails.

Amy

 

Amy, my Chinese daughter, is more than a blessing. She loves and allows me the honor of being her ‘Canadian’ mom. No daughter could possibly be more devoted, caring and helpful and always there for me. I am also very proud of Amy and all she has accomplished on her own since she moved here.

 

Samantha and me celebrate my 80th

For about 18 years, beautiful Samantha has been a close and important addition to my home-made clan. After surgery, she came by to be sure I could make it in and out of my bathtub on my own. I made it! That was us you heard celebrating that achievement. Samantha is always willing to be helpful and loving. Like a daughter? Absolutely. Yes, good hugger too.

 

Vinson, looking serious, but he’s lots of fun

Then, there’s Vinson — proof you always get more than you give. I met Vinson because I volunteer in my community. He decided that since I already had a Chinese daughter, he ought to be able to be my Chinese son. No way! Vinson’s too young for that, so we settled on him being my Chinese grandson. He’s finishing his studies and is really a hoot even though he’s pretending to be very serious for this photo.

 

 

Vinson’s pal Andrew came into the picture and became part of our ‘family’.

Andrew knows a lot about technology — thank goodness

Andrew knows a heck of a lot more than I do about many things, especially technology. (Thinking about it, so do they all!) If you ever come over, try to get a hug from this guy. He gives the greatest! What can I say, love spreads like the flu — another wonderful grandson. He too chose to pose very seriously for this photo, but he knows how to smile.

 

 

Alison took this photo of us around Mothers Day this year

Alison is very special. I’m delighted to have found her. I didn’t have a granddaughter and now I do.  Alison didn’t have a grandmother and, lucky for me, was willing to become a member of our CHOSEN family.

Each and every one of these wonderful young people bring joy and laughter into my life.

Nor does any of this diminish my love for my very own children and grandson. They are also well-loved and I’m sure they know it. Because they love me, they are glad to know I’m never lonely.