Muriel took a tumble, but she’s on the mend!

Hello Readers,

This is Susan, Muriel’s daughter, writing to explain why she has been absent from this blog for a while. You may have heard that mom was planning to visit me here in the U.S. so that we could record some more silly songs in the “Crazy Grandma Sings” series. Well, I am here to tell you that making videos with her wacky dottur is not the whole story. . .

While we were indeed planning to record more songs, the truth is that my mother has been a Special Agent in the American Covert Forces for many decades, and they needed her to come down from Canada for a particularly daring and dangerous operation involving two Mexican drug cartels, several international terrorists, and a passel of high-level Russian hit men. Only Muriel could handle an operation with this level of complexity and peril, and handle it she did.

Unfortunately, during the final phase, which involved defusing a bomb on a private plane carrying a number of top American government officials (whom she cannot name for security reasons), Muriel broke her leg in a death-defying sky-diving effort to capture the bomber, who parachuted from the plane after mom defeated him in hand-to-hand combat, in which she used only her reading glasses to fend off his assortment of knives and other weapons, all while simultaneously neutralizing the explosive device. Despite her badly broken femur, Muriel did ultimately subdue the heinous criminal mastermind, and she managed to keep her cute hat on the whole time!

The only known photo of Muriel’s skydiving capture of the bad guy!

Of course, what Muriel will tell you is that she broke her leg after tripping during the night on her way back from the bathroom, but don’t you believe it! More about Muriel’s adventures later, but rest assured, dear readers, that she is back in Canada and recovering from her injury, her leg made more bionic than ever and her spirit 100% intact. Thank you to those of you who reached out to ask about her. She truly appreciated it.

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!’

—

Sports Medicine clinic…

photo by Chandra

Daughter Susan and I were having

There was a lot of laughter

one of our frequent crazy telephone conversations. As usual, there was a lot of laughter. This time she was amused because I’m seeing a ‘Sports Medicine’ clinic for my ancient, arthritic knee.

It IS funny since Susan knows very well I’m not into sports. Nor have I ever been — not even as a spectator.

At school, we played baseball in the

I doubt I ever hit a ball

summertime. I was the last chosen and usually ended up out in

Studying the daisies

field where I could contemplate the beauty of the daisies. I doubt I ever hit a ball. (I may have some attributes, but was always lousy at such things.)

Nor did I ever have a bike or learn how to ride one, although my husband and I rode a tandem which I managed not to upend. (But once HE did and I broke some toes.) I manage somewhat on my Exercycle, thank you, although I need to ice my knees later. It’s the only bike riding I do.

It may be I already had a vestibular disorder as a kid. Years later, I ended up being the co-founder, with Dr. Graham Bryce, of the B.C. Balance & Dizziness Disorders Society (BADD) and we managed to help many others with similar disorders.

In any case I was always a klutz, which was okay since I was also the first to be chosen for the debating team or class president (before said position was politicized) and renowned as the class artist.

So, after Susan and I cracked up on the phone about my non-existent athletic skills and my visiting a ‘Sports Medicine’ clinic, I received this photo clever Susan created. It is just too funny not to share with you. The face is mine, but that’s all I can honestly claim.

 

The face is mine, but that’s all I can honestly claim.

Hilarious, isn’t it?????

Hey, it’s son Rafi’s birthday today. I love him whole bunches! Wish him Happy Birthday!

 

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…

 

 

I want a rat tail like Remy’s…

Remy’s tail

The last time my San Francisco crew visited, I teased Remy about his long braid. After admiring it, I suggested he not dare fall asleep at night because I would cut it off and glue it on for myself. He laughed. He wasn’t terrified. (I’m using his photo here with his permission.)

I had no idea it was called a ‘rat’s tail’. Why would I? It was my patient friend Celine, who made my first real braid and commented that’s what it looked like. I thought it was because my hair is grey and Remy’s is black, (like mine used to be).

Then, son Rafi told me it WAS called a ‘rat’s tail’. Imagine! I keep learning folks. Don’t we all NEED to know these things? Aren’t you glad I’m telling you?

I’m a determined sort. Ask my kids. It drives them nuts.

All I could do was make a small ponytail

So, I continued to let my own rat’s tail grow, but now I’m isolating because of COVID:19 and giving friends and others I love a break by not seeing anyone. I’m definitely not talented enough to make a braid for myself in the back of my head. Forget it. All I could do was make a small ponytail and hope for the best.

The lovely braid Samantha made

Then, finally Samantha visited wearing a mask, washed her hands 100 times, etc., etc., etc. but still beautiful. What a treat. She made a lovely braid for me. I loved it. The next morning, it was stubbornly curled up to the left and no way was it willing to straighten out.

Note the stubborn curl toward the left of photo

Want some good advice? Watch out what you wish for. You may get it AND regret it. I had straight jet-black hair and would have sold my young soul to the devil to have it curl. Well, now I’ve got what I then wanted so badly. My grey hair IS wavy. I hate it! It drives me crazy. It won’t wave the way I’d want it to. It is totally uncontrollable. Sometimes it looks like the 1920s. Oh, woe is me… I’m back to nothing but a silly little ponytail.

You mean I didn’t make you cry with this very sad tale about my tail??

COVID:19 project #2 — Junk Drawer

Project #2

So you’ve been biting your nails, anxiously waiting to learn what you’ve always wanted to know — what I found in my junk drawer. It’s been an exciting project. I’m learning a lot during this solitary COVID-19 life, which I’m now passing on to you, my readers — free of charge!

Firstly, I was surprised at how pristine my junk

looks like mine

drawer actually was. My cabinets were installed 28 years ago and it had never ever been emptied.

Here’s a hint for you: Never work with food on your kitchen counters while drawers below are open. That way, no food or crumbs get into them. (Now, aren’t you lucky to have been given this brilliant tip? Also free of charge?)

My drawers ALL look like junk drawers

I learned that all my kitchen drawers LOOK like junk drawers and I marvel at how my loved ones knew which I was talking about when I used that term. Will they recognize it now?

It’s about a week since I neatened my junk drawer. It will take about a week until it’ll be back to it’s familiar mess. But that’s okay, I’ll then know whose kitchen I’m in.

 

Stuff I found:

Tin foil to sharpen scissors, rose made of wood, metal straws w/cleaning brush, and bottle opener from France

A beautiful rose made of wood (I think) by Dusty, a wood-wright who moved away. We used to have morning coffee at Benny’s, which is gone too. (Dusty follows my blog. I’m keeping it.)

Left over tin foil, to sharpen scissors. (Another tip! It really works. Cut foil with your dull scissors.)

Some metal straws with a cleaning brush, a gift from Alison. I’m enjoying one I use on my office desk. (You can’t have any, no way Jose.)

A bottle opener, from Paris, with Napoleon on one side and the Eiffel tower on the other. (Please take it.)

Butterfly pin, seed splitters, key chains w/lights, tea holder

A butterfly pin, given me by a friend just before she checked out for good. It reminds me of her and it’ll stay.

Two items to split seed shells, used (I think) for watermelon seeds. Chinese students’ families used to give me them because I like them. (If you know where to buy them I’ll be your best friend.)

Four key chains, with lights. Friends know I like them with a light. (Up for grabs.)

One something to hold tea leaves. I don’t drink tea and have teabags for friends. (Also up for grabs.)

How long will it last???

 

This most exciting post about a thrilling COVID:19 project is my attempt to help you  manage the current crisis. What next? Maybe I’ll find a way to get a hug one of these days. I miss them most of all. Stay tuned. I’ll let you know….

A sense of humor?

I’d been there before. Several times. Still, when leaving, I headed in the wrong direction. I do stuff like that — very often.

Andrew and I were at a local hospital where I’d had an appointment with my hand surgeon. I wasn’t sure what the doctor would do about that troublesome hand, so I asked Andrew to come with me ‘just in case’.

As I was leading the poor guy astray, he gently reminded me we had to go in the opposite direction.

Andrew looking serious. (He hates taking pictures.)

‘I told you I have no sense of direction,’ I laughed, ‘You can believe it.’

‘A sense of humor is much more important,’ Andrew responded. He is SO wonderfully clever.

Where am I???

I burst out laughing. I do that a lot. As for a sense of direction, forget it. Turn me around in my bedroom and I probably wouldn’t find my own bed.

Andrew is right. My crazy sense of humor is helpful. I had just had the doctor cracking up because I asked him to marry me. (He said he would except he loves his wife.)

Then he showed me videos of his new baby, born one day before my birthday, and his little girl. He has told me I can ALWAYS get in to see him, which is terrific for me with my  arthritic hands.

My doctor cracked up when I asked him to marry me.

I often get great service because of my nutty humor, bus drivers remember me and smile when I climb aboard and make sure I’m seated before they restart the bus. Busy professionals try to fit me in, and, admittedly, I sometimes take advantage of that.

This year, my wonderful, caring family doctor gave ME a Christmas present! I’ve made her laugh often, but she put up with me in tears when I was very dizzy. I adore her….

During the present crisis, I’ve agreed to not be stubborn and I’m staying in because everyone is reminding me how old I am. Old?

Well okay I AM old! And I tell my loved ones I intend to stick around until the last cheque/check bounces!

Happy birthday to you…

It won’t surprise you that I buy an old-fashioned appointment book yearly. Through the years, the cost went from $5 to $20. On page ‘X’ of the phone section, I list all birthdays of friends or family who matter. (I haven’t any friends yet whose names begin with X.)

 

 

I want to send each a card on their special day, but it hasn’t quite worked out that way though I’ve tried various methods of getting the job done.

 

One year I took extra time to write each name in a week before their birthday so I’d be reminded in time. Clever, no? No! It didn’t work.

 

 

The next year, I improved my methodology by buying all the cards ahead of time, filling them out, sealing the envelopes and stacking them on my desk after writing the date they SHOULD be mailed on where the stamp would go. I thought that was brilliant. Wouldn’t you?

 

WARNING: DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME: Today, no self-respecting mail carrier will deliver mail within a week anyway. They’d probably be evicted from the union or banished from their church or something even more sinister. In any case, by the end of THAT year, there was a stack of paid-for cards still waiting to be mailed. How that happened I’ll never know.

Well, here it is March and I haven’t acknowledged anyone’s birthday except Joe, whose birthday is impossible to forget, and my Chandra, whose birthday I remembered this January although I forgot it last year and she still forgave me.

 

So, here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna wish every one of them Happy Birthday right here and now. Here goes…..

Happy Birthday to youuuuu Chris, Robert, Alison, Judy, David, Vinson, Donna, Brian, Kevin, Amy, Rafi, Susan, Remy, Shirley, Diane, Naomi, Rebecca, Andrew, Trudy and Michael. All done!

 

 

By the way, I celebrate my own birthday for six months before and six months after the actual date, so if you want to treat me to a birthday breakfast, brunch, lunch or dinner, yer on anytime. And, if you’re reading this, you have my permission to celebrate your birthday for six months before and six months afterwards as well.

So HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUUUU!

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!