I shall wear purple…

If you look hard, you can see some purple.

I’m a delicate flower. I’ve got allergies to lots of chemicals, so I’ve never dyed my hair. Tired of lock-downs and not seeing friends, I wanted to do something new. My bright idea was to colour my hair purple.

Do I look good in purple? No! I NEVER wear purple. And did I do a good job? Are you kidding? I did a better job spraying water on my kitchen floor than I did my hair and I’m still trying to get the colour out of my white counter. Still, if you look really hard you can see a little purple. You may laugh. I did.

Someone who loves me enough to tell the truth (and shall remain nameless) emailed: ‘Yes! I see it! But people may just think it is the “blue hair” of old ladies who try to brighten their grey and leave the stuff on too long!’

No matter…

Poet Jenny Joseph

I loved the following poem, ‘Warning’, long before I became old. You may too. Since this is National Poetry Month, this is a good time to revisit it. Enjoy!

‘Warning’ by Jenny Joseph (1932-2018)

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.

I shall wear purple

I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people’s gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beer-mats and things in boxes.

Guess she didn’t do any better than I did.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practise a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Whatever you do, have fun!!!

Note: Thanks Andrew for helping me find a gentle and safe dye to use.

Advertisement

Sorry fellas, I’m still here…

photo by Chandra

In July 2007, I received a letter from an insurance company with whom I have a small annuity. They pay me about $230 a year around my birthday, which is in July.

The letter, addressed to ‘Estate of (me)’ says:

‘Dear Sir/Madam:

We have recently been advised of the death of (me). On behalf of (them) please accept my deepest sympathy on your loss.

In order to determine our requirements we require the following:

1) Date of death

2) Name and address of the person handling the Estate

Upon receipt of this information, I will write you regarding this policy.

Should you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Sincerely, etc.’

My death was a total surprise to me

My death at the time was a total surprise to me, and since I did have a concern, I called the guy who signed the letter and asked how come I hadn’t been advised of my death and he had.

I also asked who told him I died. He personally didn’t know because he’s only the guy who writes the letters.

I was deeply saddened to learn of my demise.

I was deeply saddened to learn of my demise as you can imagine. I still had some mischief in mind.

Was I really dead? Was I a ghost? I tried walking through my bedroom wall, it wasn’t a good idea. All I got for my effort was a bruised nose. Oh, well — I was obviously still here.

Was I a ghost?

Concerned about losing the $200 they’d already mailed me, they had immediately put a stop payment on the cheque I’d just received, signed and deposited at my bank. It had to be replaced later so they at least got to hold on to my two hundred bucks longer. I hope that made up for the disappointment of my not being dead.

Well fellas, I’m still here…

Well, here it is 2020, and while looking for something else, I found their old letter. How can anyone throw away a gem like that? When was the last time you were notified of your death?

Well, sorry fellas, I’m still here and have no plans of checking out soon. I intend to stick around and make trouble for as long as I can. I’m not quite done with this adventure yet.

One hand washes another…

Vinson and me

We’re having a hot spell — too hot for me. I’ve never taken heat graciously and it isn’t easier now.

Vinson, one of many blessings in my life, wanted to come over and treat me to a birthday lunch. Walking at noon in this heat??? I just couldn’t. I begged off.

‘How about I pack a little picnic,’ I suggested, ‘And we go to the park across the street and sit on a bench under a tree. You can treat me to lunch after it cools down.’

So we did that. It was lovely. What I enjoyed most was the interesting conversation we ended up having. Vinson said he learns a lot from me. (Important things like you can separate two sides of a sandwich using waxed paper. Ha, ha.)

I had to honestly respond that I, too, learn

Who would teach me if they didn’t?

a lot from him (and my other young friends Andrew and Alison). Who would teach me if they didn’t? Aside from showing me how to use my smart TV, newfangled telephone and new computer, they teach me current words or expressions which have changed through the years.

Judy, one of my favourite friends and also a member of our book club, brought us each a coffee mug which says ‘Reading is LIT’. I thought ‘LIT’ stood for literature.

 

I thought it stood for ‘Reading is Literature.

 

When the youngsters visited, I showed off my new mug. They chuckled and explained that ‘LIT’ is modern slang for ‘exciting’ or ‘excellent’. Aha! I am now a well-informed old lady.

That’s me behind Alison

One day, having lunch with Alison and Andrew in my neighbourhood, a local man came in and greeted me. I introduced him and after he left explained I regularly give him money — he is ‘mentally retarded’ and lives on disability. Alison said we no longer use that term, but now say such people have an ‘intellectual disability’. I’ve lived a long life and things change.

I am grateful to my young friends

Hey Andrew, I don’t have a photo WITH you.

who respect me enough to help me continue to learn. Besides threading needles for me, reaching items too high for me to get to, helping with my lack of technological skills and being willing to do whatever I’ve happened to put on my ‘To Do’ lists, they help me continue to grow as a person.

Thank you Vinson, Alison, and Andrew. I treasure you…

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!

 

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!’

Stuff is falling apart…

Things are falling apart all around me. First, I replaced my old computer, then the brand new one wouldn’t function, but you know about that already. Now there’s more happening. What’s going on??

Next to give up was my shredder.

Next to quit was my shredder.

That was understandable. The poor thing served me faithfully for years. Son Rafi helped order a new one online. (In the midst of COVID:19, stores are closed.)

 

Something like my new heavy shredder

It’s bigger, much heavier — and more complicated. It not only shreds in one direction, but in several at the same time. But, there’s no place to store the papers-to-be-shredded like I could in my old one. So the old shredder’s basket remains, adding more clutter in my office. Oh, well…

The latest to quit??? My toaster oven! I had one that was just that, an ordinary toaster oven. The new ones I saw locally aren’t that simple.

Sad goodbye to old simple toaster oven

The one I bought is also a ‘Convection’ oven. (I don’t even know what that is.) It came with l-o-n-g instructions — in several languages. The printing is so small, a magnifying glass was required for me to read it. I did. By the end, I was so confused, I had no idea where to begin.

It came with several parts but I had no idea where they were supposed to go. It didn’t say. Is it a secret? It has knobs which do various things, most of which I’m not interested in. Said knobs have tiny little things written on them here and there which I can’t see anyway.

New toaster oven: blue pen points to spot I painted with red nail polish

Thank goodness Andrew came by and set it to just make toast. After he left, I painted the spot he’d told me to use with red nail polish, because the original mark is so obscure, I would never find it. I had to tip the oven over on its side to see it. You can’t do that while it’s going.

I sure hope nothing else goes. I can’t cope with more ‘improvements’. As it is I still need to pull out the instructions twice a year when they change the time for the no-longer-new clock radio I use in my office. You can set multiple alarms and it has so many possibilities I can’t keep straight. If I were really clever, it would probably fix dinner and walk my dog — if I had one.

And, this week I’m having another birthday. Talk about falling apart. I may be next!!!

 

COVID:19 Words for right now…

Dr. Bonnie Henry

I feel fortunate to be living in British Columbia where the number of people affected by the virus is low and we are directed by an especially capable Provincial Health Officer,  Dr. Bonnie Henry. The doctor is effective,  popular, very photogenic and gentle yet firm.

We have a Dr. Henry fan club, songs have been written for her, and because she enjoys shoes (the kind I could never afford) her favourite shoe manufacturer made a limited number of a particular pair she enjoys and sold them to raise money for charity.

The Dr. Henry shoe which sold like hot cakes.

Dr. Henry will be remembered by the words she leaves us with every time we hear from her: ‘Be kind, be calm, be safe’. Good advice for now…

This is a good time to think about words which can serve us well during these difficult times. (They are from a little book called ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’)

‘Prediction is very difficult, especially about the future.’ (Niels Bohr)

Blessed are the young, for they shall inherit the national debt.’ (Herbert Hoover)

‘A bank is a place that will lend you money if you can prove that you don’t need it.’ (Bob Hope)

Bob Hope 1903-2003

Benjamin Franklin 1706-1790

‘Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship.’ (Benjamin Franklin)

‘I am an optimist. It doesn’t seem too much use being anything else.’ (Winston Churchill)

‘There is no education like adversity.’ (Benjamin Disraeli)

‘A lifetime of happiness! No man alive could bear it: It would be hell on earth.’ (George Bernard Shaw)

Charles M. Schulz 1922-2000

‘Don’t worry about the earth coming to an end today, it’s already tomorrow in Australia.’ (Charles M. Schulz)

‘Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.’ (Lord Byron)

‘Life is a shipwreck, but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats.’ (Voltaire)

‘My life has been filled with terrible misfortune, most of which never happened.’ (Michel de Montaigne)

A Mere Change of Heart…

 

We shared a love of film and theatre

And talked about them passionately.

I saw us together melding our knowledge

Learning and growing and sharing and…

 

 

 

He talked of summer visits to Oregon friends

And taking two weeks to drive there — slowly.

I heard the promise of joyful times with him

Exploring tomorrow and tomorrow.

 

 

His eyes across the dinner table spoke of

Countless hours we’d spend together.

Then he could not understand why his

Mere change of heart hurt so deeply.

I know you’re dying to know about —

I feel a need to honour the single reliable safety pin which has loyally served me for  years by now. I use it to secure my pedometer to my slacks since the widget that came with it broke down within a year. I’ve never had to replace the safety pin. Think about that….

Well, I thunk on it and was moved to find

Walter Hunt, my unsung hero

out more about this humble servant. It was invented in 1849 by American Walter Hunt, (1796-1859) who, because he owed some guy $15, sold the rights to it for $400. (now worth about $13,000.) Others went on to earn a fortune for what seems like a simple pin.

This was a pattern with Hunt, who also invented a rifle that

Singer Sewing Machine

same year, (later used in the Civil War). It also made oodles of dough for someone else. He invented an improved oil lamp, a portable knife sharpener, the sewing machine, better bullets and goodness knows how many other inventions.

The man was a prolific, talented inventor, however without much education or perhaps an ability to garner support for his ideas, he continued selling them for a pittance.

He did, however, finally win an out-of-court settlement in 1858 with the Singer Sewing Machine Co. for $50,000 (well over a million today) for copying his original sewing machine design. Unfortunately, he died of pneumonia soon afterwards and before he was paid. (At least his family did profit this time.)

cloth diapers used when I had babies

Unlike many other inventions, the

Never stuck any of my little ones

safety pin maintains it original design to this day. I used to use them to secure the cloth diapers we had for our babies when I was a young mother. I don’t recall ever sticking one of my treasured little ones with one. Disposable diapers came later.

Think about that too…..

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…