Roof Problems

My friend's husband was going to do a little sealing job on the front of my roof but he found more trouble than he'd anticipated. Apparently there's a gap that needs to be covered and sealed and we had to order the stuff to fix it. $58 later and we don't know if this will solve the problem or not. I'm a little surprised that my husband, who worked his butt off fixing everything wrong with this trailer, didn't find and repair the problem years ago.

There isn't a chance in hell that I'll ever go up on that roof so thank heavens I have someone I can trust to do the job for me. All it takes is money and when the cost becomes too high I'll have to sell. So far so good, though!

More on Fabric

I had a good night's sleep but dreamt all night about Walmart's fabric. It was saying "buy me...you'll never get a deal like this again!" so I think I might drop by Walmart again today and take another look. I have no will power.

Fabric in the U.S.

I hope a lot of Canadian sewers are reading this blog. I do quilting and I can get thousands of yards of quality 100% cotton at the U.S. Walmart right now for $2 a yard!!! This is because Walmart is closing down their fabric department in most of their stores. My family knows how hard it is for me to pass these bargains by but I just can't buy any more fabric. I already have enough on hand to make quilts for the next few years so I just fondle the $2 a yard cottons, drool a bit, and walk away...well, most of the time.

I've also stocked up on monk's cloth (for doing Swedish weaving) because I can get it at Walmart for $6 a yard and it costs about triple that at home in Canada. If Dean ever finishes remodeling my basement I'll have a real snazzy sewing room fully equipped with some terrific fabrics. Enough to see me out!

Whose Turn Is It?

We play a lot of card and board games here in the park but don't take any of them seriously. The aim of the game is just to get together with a group of friends, talk, and laugh. Because we do so much talking, we never know whose turn it is to deal or to play. Last night we found the perfect solution...place a penny between the dealer and the person to her left. I thought we might forget why the penny was there but this system really did work.

Years ago my husband's cousin and his wife often came over to our house for a game of Euchre. Donna and I were partners and Dennis and Frank were partners. Of course Donna and I did most of the talking and we never knew what was trump. We still beat the pants off the men. I don't know what Frank thought but Dennis was not a happy camper.

These days (during the summer) Frank, Donna, Faye, Gary, and I play dominoes regularly and the men are as silly and talkative as the women. That's the way games should be!

Still in a Snit

I must still be in a bit of a snit about my bad day because I wrote Walmart a really nasty e-mail complaining about everything that's bugged me for the past year.

There is a very large population of Spanish speaking people in Florida and I love the look and the sound of them...but not on the loudspeaker announcements at Walmart. Last year I started to notice that most of the Walmart announcements were made in Spanish and not English. It could be that we English speaking people are in the minority here now but Florida is still an English speaking state...for the time being. I want my damn announcements spoken in English as well as Spanish.

I'm also finding more and more sales staff at Walmart who can barely speak English. Why are they on the floor working with the public? When I need help I need someone who understands English to help me. I tried buying fabric there last year and the clerk couldn't speak two words of English and had to page someone else to answer my questions.

My sister-in-law told me that she was in Walmart the other day and, when she was at the checkout, the cashier totally ignored her while she was ringing in her purchases and carried on a loud conversation in Spanish with another cashier. Who is training these people? And who is supervising them?

When I was in Walmart yesterday I asked a cashier (English speaking) why the announcements were in Spanish only and her rather nervous reply was that the store manager was Spanish. Am I wrong here or is Walmart in Florida saying they don't need my business? Lord knows, I keep going back but it's really starting to make me mad.

My daughter married into a Cuban family and I love them dearly. I adore their culture and enjoy myself thoroughly when I'm with them. Visiting Miami is like visiting another country where the beautiful Spanish language is spoken and heard everywhere. I like to shop so I do it there, too, and the salesclerks all speak English. If they can do it in Miami then why can't they do it in Kissimmee?

Okay, snit over!

A Better Day

I received an e-mail today from my cousin-by-marriage, Ernestine. She hoped my bad day yesterday had disappeared by today and it has. By collecting my thoughts and putting them in the written word it helped to put the whole nasty day in perspective and, after a good night's sleep, my world is in balance again.

Ernestine said that I'm usually an upbeat person and that's true. I'm upbeat because I choose to be. Any of us can wake up in the morning and dwell on the crap in our lives or we can wake up and think "I'm not going to let the crap get me down". Years ago, as I've mentioned before, I suffered from depression and my every thought was of everything that was wrong with my life. Well, after many years of counseling I finally understood what I needed to do. To hell with the crap, I'm going to enjoy myself!

This is a wonderful day that I've been granted and I'm going to enjoy every moment. And I hope anyone who reads this will choose to enjoy theirs as well.

Not So Good Day

Sometimes the roads through life are treacherous. You step where you've stepped with confidence many times before but now the path is like quicksand...you don't know where to step safely. This was my day today. Tomorrow I'll recoup and decide where it's safest to make my way.

Many years ago I wrote articles that I refer to as "truisms" and that means I'd received a bolt of reality that rocked me. It's not necessarily a bad thing to be jolted by reality but that doesn't make it any easier to take.

I tend to live in a little world which is made up of what I prefer my reality to be. I can carry on happily in this cocoon for quite a while but there always comes a day when the real world pushes it's way inside. I was sadly disappointed today but it wasn't earth shattering...just a reminding jolt...and I'll feel better tomorrow, but a bit more wary.

Good Marriage/Bad Marriage

I've been thinking...probably a dangerous occupation but we seniors have lots of time to think, and reminisce.

Every day I see such loving old couples and I try to analyze what went wrong in my own marriage. In good marriages, there seems to be a tenderness displayed that I never experienced. It's truly heart-warming to watch the caring attitudes between a man and wife who have spent 50 years together and overcome every disaster possible.

I see the tenderness in a gentle touch between them or a soft and loving glance that others, not so nosy, would miss. I get all sappy when I see an elderly couple holding hands because my own husband had an abhorence of showing public affection. He could be very cold and this was one thing that made me feel quite alone at times.

The way I interpret this is that there is a bonding between a man and wife that either occurs or doesn't occur. When there is a true bonding, nothing can come between the couple...they are bonded for life. Once bonded, they feel an affection towards one another that creates the tenderness I see in so many couples here.

A husband and wife need to open up to each other and trust each other completely. I don't think my husband was able to be that vulnerable and so we lost the opportunity to bond. My own faults were multiple...a problem marriage is never one sided. Maybe if I'd had more patience...maybe...maybe.

Baby Craving

I just read my sister-in-law's blog about how happy she is to be minding her 3 grandsons while their parents are away. She sounds so tired but so happy to be with them.

For years I've gone into melt down when I see a little one. Their innocence and their brand new skin just makes me crave to touch them. I wonder sometimes how the parents feel when a strange old gal comes up to their baby and can't resist touching their little hands. I remember once coming across an Amish family who had a baby with them. When I touched the baby's little bare foot the father looked quite displeased. Maybe that was taking too much liberty in their culture...I don't know. Now, as I reach out, I watch the parent's face to see if they mind. Most are pleased to have their baby admired so I guess it's still acceptable in our own culture, thank heavens.

My own grandbabies are growing up and well past the baby stage but they still have that perfect skin and, being the Gramma, I can go a little further with my craving and caress their beautiful faces.

Oh gosh, I'm getting all weepy for them so I'd better end this blog and get ready to go out. I'm going on the casino cruise today so wish me luck.

Bingo Totem

We senior Bingo players take our game very seriously. A lot of us put little good luck totems in front of our cards but a few of us transfer good luck from our own totems to our friends and back. Picture this...Barb and I have been rubbing each other's totems for a couple of years and it seemed to bring us luck. Last week I missed Bingo on Wednesday so Barb went to Dorothy and rubbed both of their totems together...and she won. Tonight, Barb came over to our table and rubbed her totem all over mine AND Dorothy's...she won again. I haven't won in almost a month and I'm beginning to thing Barb's rubbed all the luck off my totem. I'd better warn Dorothy.

Never Enough Time

I am basically a very lazy person but I seem to involve myself in so many things at the same time that I don't have time to just be lazy.

For instance, this morning we're all going over to the clubhouse at 9 A.M. to peel veggies for our Canada Day dinner tonight. When the veggies are done we have to make punch. At 11 A.M. I'm leaving for Lakeland to go to my "supplier". I'm hoping that there is a small window of opportunity between the punch and the drive to be able to get up to the post office and mail some parcels I sold on Ebay last night. We should get back from Lakeland close to the time we have to be at the clubhouse for happy hour and then dinner.

Tomorrow morning Faye and I clean Dorothy's trailer and do her laundry. This should only take a couple of hours but I need to do my own laundry real early in the morning so that I can have the afternoon free for the pool.

Saturday morning it's my crew who has to go over to the clubhouse early in the morning to make coffee and serve donuts to the whole park. Then I need to prepare more items for sale on Ebay. It's possible that the Ebay work is what is mainly interfering with me being able to laze around. But it's so much fun!

Selling on Ebay

I sell on Ebay...really small stuff for really cheap prices. Thank heavens I look on this activity as a hobby or I would have quit long ago. Just this last week I sent parcels to Switzerland and Australia and that is one of the things about Ebay that I enjoy...actually having something that people half way across the world wants.

One of the items I've been selling a lot of lately is a garlic press. Would you believe that someone from England is willing to pay $10 plus $10 shipping for a damned garlic press? I'm a little teed off that my source has dried up before I found out how much in demand these little suckers are.

My sister-in-law's sister-in-law and brother-in-law (figure that one out) took me to a discount warehouse where I purchased all kinds of great stuff to put on Ebay. I hope they're not sorry to have turned me on to their own source of goodies. We have such a good time discussing our Ebay transactions when we're together...they do it more for a hobby, also.

I can't sell on Ebay in Canada much anymore because our shipping costs have gotten too expensive but here in the States it's a breeze. They only charge you for the parcel weight and not the size. It's simpler and cheaper by far to ship from the States.

I've got my finger in so many pies while I'm in Florida but I make sure it involves fun time. This afternoon I'm off to my painting class...it's a beautiful white swan on a black background. If I can figure out how to post the picture I'll put it in the next blog...but don't hold your breath!

Trailer Bought!

We all traipsed through the little trailer that Carole wanted us to inspect...and inspect we did! When first entering an old trailer you might want to purchase, you should use your nose. I'm happy to say there was no discernible smell. Next we tried to look beyond the clutter to see the bare bones of the trailer. It looked darned good. Trailer trash, as we're known, tend to fill our trailers with as much knick knacks as we have in our big houses and the owner of this trailer had overdone herself. I don't know how she had time to do anything but dust and clean her ornaments. But it was clean, thank heavens. I later told Carole that there was a real gem under all the clutter.

Mickey, a retired plumber, checked all the plumbing and pronounced it good. He checked the roof and found it good. I was mostly interested in the furnishings and they were good. It was rather easy to imagine how this cute little trailer would look with no clutter...we even made a few decorating decisions for Carole while we were at it.

Within an hour of just a few phone calls, Carole had made her offer of purchase and been accepted. We are thrilled to death! Carole has worked long and hard all of her life and fell in love with our park when she first visited it last year. This year she's going to be retired and ready to join us snowbirds here in Florida...in her own little snowbird nest!

Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!

Trailer Inspecting

We're all going trailer inspecting today. My friend, Carole, is interested in buying the trailer across the road from me but she is back in Canada so a bunch of us have to do the inspecting to make sure the trailer isn't a money pit.

Five of us are checking it out. Including the 2 owners and 1 present occupant, that will mean 8 of us in that little trailer which might mean it will be easy to hide any problems. But not with our eagle eyes! We're all looking out for Carole's interests and we won't let her buy a lemon. The 2 men in our group will search for structural problems and the women will place our discerning eyes on the decorating. I'm even taking a camera.

You'd have to know this park to know that we could have easily gotten 100 people to check this trailer out for us. We look after each other here. When we're finished our inspection, Carole will know more than if she'd looked at it herself.

I know she's sitting at home right now all excited about possibly buying her Florida trailer. And she knows she can trust us do do our best. That's what friends are for.

Second Life

I just heard of a new website/game called "Second Life". It costs the user real money to create an imaginary human form, buy imaginary property and imaginary clothes in imaginary shops. They can also buy imaginary food and imaginary new hair styles. They are, in essence, creating a completely new life for themselves...albeit imaginary. The creators of this website are making a lot of money from the sadly disfunctional human beings who think this is a logical way to escape their unsatisfactory lives.

We all would like a second chance to start over and mend the mistakes of our past but most of us know that's impossible. We just continue with our lives and try to be better people. There is an unmistakable draw to actually recreating ourselves, though, even in an imaginary way. The creators of "Second Life" understand that need all too clearly.

I realized many years ago that it is almost impossible for human beings to be completely honest with themselves and live their lives in a clean, clear-cut way. We learn from birth what works in the society we live in and we pattern our behaviour to fit into that environment. Literally, from birth we are no longer our own person...we are what we have to be to survive. Don't take my word for it...try to be perfectly honest with yourself and you'll see that it's extremely difficult.

I'm a "go with the flow" kind of person because that's the easiest way. Only occasionally do I get my back up and refuse to accept the status quo. If I were to play the "Second Life" game, nobody would recognize the real me. And that's the draw!

Personally, I think that anyone playing the game would become even more unsatisfied with their real lives. It would be traumatic to go from having it all your own way to having to deal with the way things actually are.

Just a thought...in my second life I'd be tall and thin, strong and fearless. Wouldn't we all??

Equality in Hiring

We don't hear too much anymore about equal opportunities for minorities acquiring government jobs. When it was painfully obvious that minorities were not getting their fair share of jobs, I was all for giving them a better advantage. What I don't like is the idea that a minority applicant will be hired ahead of anyone else with better qualifications. That is just another form of discrimination.

The Hispanic population in Florida is growing in leaps and bounds. I only winter here but even I can see it clearly. I have no problem with becoming a minority race in Florida. I've never been treated badly by any of the Hispanics that I come in contact with on a regular basis. In fact, they treat me with more respect than I'm used to getting. Hispanics still have a healthy respect for age.

Mexicans and Cubans seem to comprise the largest group to be flooding into Florida. For the most part they are hard working people who only want a better life for themselves and their children. Many are illegals and my heart goes out to them because they have no protection in their new country. Even though this is a major financial burden to legal taxpayers, I can't really blame these people for moving here illegally. The U.S. government is going to have to find a way to deal with them in a humane way...let them stay and make a life for themselves, and then they can become a real part of this country.

I can't imagine what it must be like to live in a country illegally, knowing that any moment you can be arrested and torn away from the life you've built for yourself. We're the lucky ones because our ancestors came to America many, many years ago when they were welcomed here. Generations have benefited from those pioneers and that is the driving force behind the illegal aliens of today. They want their descendents to benefit from their move. I hope so much that something can be worked out to make them legal citizens of their new country.

Love

I get my ideas for a blog from just about anywhere. Today I read my nieces's blog about how the love between her and her husband has changed over the past 10 years.

When I met my husband we were only 15 and 18 years old and I immediately fell deeply in love (remember Romeo and Juliet?). Don't ever believe a teenager can't fall in love...real love. Of course we were young, pretty, and full of life so it was easy to like each other.

After years of marriage and three children, I'd still melt when I looked at him (when I wasn't mad at him for something). Even when we aged and the bodies suffered from time, he could still make my heart flip-flop. It never was the body that attracted me, it was his eyes and his strength.

Unfortunately, we had differences that we could never overcome...but I still remember those eyes.

Newly Wed Game

We had our annual Valentine's evening at the clubhouse tonight. A group of people spent weeks preparing a comedy skit that faintly resembled the old Newly Wed Game. Four couples had been chosen but not given any information about the kinds of questions they'd be asked. I think they were very brave to submit themselves to the unknown...especially since we are not a prudish bunch.

After the four wives were secluded off stage, the first question asked of the men was "what size dress does your wife wear?". You never saw more terrified men in your life. No matter what they said, they were in trouble. My heart went out to the three of the four ladies who were what we like to refer to as "fluffy". The men answered as honestly as they could and so did the wives. I take my hat off to them!

A question asked of the wives was "what color underwear is your husband wearing?". The wives simply looked blank and most wondered if their husbands were even wearing underwear. We'll never look at those men the same way again!

The audience laughed uproarously all evening...most of us thankful we weren't the ones on stage. One man in the audience was visiting our park and I'm sure he was less than thrilled to be spending his evening watching amateur comedy but I was glad to see him doubled over with laughter right along with everyone else.

This happy evening will be the gift that keeps on giving because we'll all discuss it and laugh again for days to come. And those four men will probably get a lot of probing stares from us women.

Guardian Angels

Despite being a confused agnostic, I still believe I have a guardian angel. It's a man (or manlike) and his name is Michael. Don't ask me how I know this but it's been a fact of my life for many, many years. Since I'm not bible literate I'm free to form my own assumptions about life and death using logic...or sometimes just intuition. I have my own beliefs.

It seems as though I've always had a spirit figure beside me but only since about 15 years ago has he become clearer to me. It's strange but I just realized that happened when I was finally cured of depression.

Throughout my childhood and into my teen years I possessed a strong ESP but, around the time I met my husband, it disappeared. Now isn't that interesting!! I was diagnosed with depression in my early 40's and began 16 years of medication and counseling. I was finally able to stop taking all treatment and it felt as though my life was beginning all over again. That's when "Michael" returned.

Having a guardian angel doesn't mean you're aware of them all the time. My guardian angel only makes his presence known when I'm distressed. It's then I realize that I don't have to bear my personal burden alone.

It's possible I only have a vivid imagination but, if it works, why not just go along with it. There have been so many instances in my life that my ESP (or intuition) has saved my life so there's no way I'll ignore it. We've been given the gift of 5 senses but I believe intuition is a sixth sense that we don't give enough credit.

I know when my daughters read this blog they're going to start searching for a nice nursing home for me...preferably with restraints...but I hope they're open minded enough to realize there's more to life than what our 5 senses tell us.

Monk's Cloth

I've been in a panic since learning that Walmart in the States is closing their fabric department. This is where I buy almost all my fabric and this is definitely the place to buy monk's cloth used for Swedish weaving. At Walmart it costs $6 a yard, at Joanne's Fabric's it's $10 a yard, and at home in Canada it's over $18 a yard. I'm not even going to mention the excellent $1 a yard fabric that I've been buying at Walmart or it will make me cry.

I hate change. It disorients me and makes me uneasy. Just when you think there's a nice comfortable pattern to your life, it changes.

Ebay has also changed it's format again and I can't for the life of me figure it out. I'm continuing to use the old format (which I hated to learn) but it will only be available for a short time. What the heck is wrong with Ebay? They have almost priced themselves out of business...I don't make much money there but it isn't a living for me. Then they keep changing the format so that it alienates dumber users like me.

Back to the monk's cloth...I hunted down every Walmart within 20 miles and bought as much monk's cloth as I could. I'm now set to make afghans for about 2-3 years. After that I may have to find another hobby!

Butt Out

We have a problem with smokers fouling the air right in front of the clubhouse. They've been told to use the smoking room at the back of the clubhouse but they don't like it for some reason. After being told continuously that non smokers detest walking through the fumes to get into the clubhouse, a non smoking sign was finally posted at the front door.

The smokers then moved a few feet out to the parking lot, continued to smoke and then tossed their butts all over the ground. Why can't they see how disgusting this is?

I lived with a heavy duty smoker for almost 48 years and nothing would convince that man that the cigarette smoke he exhaled bothered anyone. But he'd have a major tantrum if he was exposed to the smell of whatever they use on dried flowers. He once took every dried flower arrangement from a lovely hotel room we were in and set them out on the balcony...where they all blew away. I'm sure the management thought we stole them.

My son-in-law once told my daughter (who smoked at the time) that kissing her was like kissing a dirty ashtray. Maybe that's why she finally quit smoking. I've never smoked so I'm not sure just how hard it is to quit but my husband, who was a very strong willed person, was never able to quit for long. It's too bad because I think it was the smoking that gave him the esophagus cancer that killed him.

It's not my place to preach to anyone that smoking is bad for them. They are adults and can make their own choices but they have no right to subject non smokers to the dangers of cigarette smoke. Maybe we should squawk a little louder and demand our rights be respected.

Senility

My sister-in-law, Faye, and I were discussing some of the crummy things we'd had to deal with during our long lives. We might not remember what we're supposed to be doing at the moment but old hurts are never forgotten. Unless you become senile. Maybe senility is nature's way of taking away bad memories. Now, if nature was perfect, it would leave us the good memories.

We oldsters don't take senility lightly because it seems to linger in the far distance (we hope), just waiting to spring on us. We've been at the age for a while when we finish each other's sentence or thought because the speaker got stuck. We all laugh when this happens but there's always a niggling worry...have we finally met up with "senility"?

Old people, really old people, are so darned interesting when they've maintained their mental faculties. There's no-one I'd rather have a conversation with because we can learn so much from them.

I've warned my daughters that I never want to live with them when I'm unable to take care of myself. Just put me in a nice nursing home and visit me regularly. If I become senile and ask to live with them, please remember how I felt when I still had my wits. Funny, but none of them put up an argument!!

Anna Nicole Smith

That poor woman is dead. Since the first time I heard of her it seems the press has hounded the life out of her and now they can feed on her carcass. She didn't appear to be the brightest or strongest person in the public eye and she just wasn't up to taking on the press. Whenever I saw her on T.V. the press looked like ants swarming over a piece of meat. And I wondered how they could stand their jobs.

When pictures of truly grieving people are shown on the news or in print, I feel an immediate distaste for the photographer...and the editor. Some things are sacred and we should treat grief with respect.

Competition

A bunch of us ladies go over to the clubhouse most evenings of the week and play board, card, or dice games. Our game of choice lately is "Farkle" which is played with 6 dice (die?). It's interesting to watch the competitive spirit...or lack of it...in the players.

I'm competitive and love to win. I'm a good loser but a poor winner because I tend to giggle when I win. The losers don't like that. I've tried various ways over the years to temper my responses when I do win, but the giggle usually wins out.

Years ago I was playing a card game with my husband who was the world's worst loser. I kept beating him even though he had given up all pretense and had begun to openly cheat. I giggled one too many times and he overturned the coffee table we were playing on and walked away mad as hell. I rolled on the floor with laughter...and then wondered why he never wanted to play cards with me again.

People who are too competitive can't enjoy a game just for the pleasure of playing it. We call these people "poor sports" and no-one wants to play with them.

The ladies I play with have a comfortable degree of competitiveness. We like to win but we're so happy when one of our own manages a win after many losses. Playing these games is only a facade for a social gathering. It's the laughter and chatter that draws us more than the game.

Tonight our clubhouse was absolutely full of people playing one game or another...and the room was filled with laughter.

A Diaper Ride Away

I've been watching with amazement the unfolding story of the ex astronaut who went after the woman who was her love rival. She wore diapers because she didn't want to stop for a pee break on her long drive. This is true dedication to the cause.

It got me thinking about to what extent we go for love. All I ever did was hang on to a bad marriage, convincing myself that what I saw with my eyes and sensed with my mind didn't exist. We're capable of convincing ourselves of what we want to believe because to accept the truth is too painful.

I saw a lady on T.V. the other day who stalks the fiance of Beyonce. She has convinced herself that she is better for him than Beyonce although she's never met the man. She is a personable lady, well maintained, but she has this blind spot that's ruining her life.

Some women (and some men) live in a physically abusive relationship because their mate is 95% gold and only goes off on them "when they push his buttons". These women believe that if they're beaten up it must be their own fault.

Hilary Clinton stuck by her man even though he cheated on her and subjected her to public humiliation to a degree unimaginable. I don't think this was the exposure she had in mind while she was planning her own political career.

Remember the California cop who couldn't sexually satisfy his wife so he procurred many, many men to do the job for him? He also hid in the closet and watched so it's possible his good deeds weren't just for his wife.

An ongoing story is the group of 13 year old girls who viciously attacked another girl who they thought was a love rival. They acted like a pack of wild animals and ended up making ridiculous fools of themselves.

Back to the astonaut...a T.V. announcer said this morning "we're all just a diaper ride away" from behaving like idiots in the name of love. I agree.

Picture This!

My daughter, Kim, made a rude comment about what I could do with all my Elvis fabric but, in doing so, she gave me an idea. She laughingly said we could all make togas out of it and wear them to Collingwood when we go to the Elvis Festival. Here's my thought...We could make tops out of them and wear them along with carrying our Elvis totes and we'd never lose each other. How cute!

Hey Kim, bet you'll think twice before giving me any more suggestions again, right?

Little Old Lady, Me!

I got myself one of those little carts on wheels to take my laundry to the laundryroom...things seem to be getting heavier for me...and realized that I'm looking more like an old lady every day. Forget the grey hair and wrinkles...I mean losing physical abilities.

I remember when we all used to bounce out of the car when we arrived at our destination. Now it takes us so long to drag ourselves out that we get the giggles.

I used to have the tiniest bit of arthritis in the first knuckle of my index finger but now my whole hand aches slightly once in a while. When I developed the first pain in my knuckle I thought I'd broken it and had it exrayed. It never occurred to me that it could be arthritis.

A couple of years ago I discovered I could barely get back up on my feet from a kneeling position. It was kind of embarrassing because I was in the middle of my yard cleaning out the lawnmower and thought I'd have to crawl back to the house. Fortunately no one saw me and I was able to pull myself up but with great difficulty.

I'm not unique in my failings but there are plenty of people older than me who are much more agile. I'm not quite sure if it's bad genes or lack of exercise...probably a combination of both.

Anyway, we do lose some of our abilities as we age and that's a fact of life. I say "enjoy it while you have it!".

Elvis E-mail Background

I think you call it "wallpaper" but that sounds silly so I'll refer to it as "background. Anyway, I just learned how to use Elvis as background on my e-mails. I'm not sure I like the effect and one daughter and one grandson sound less than enthused about it so I might limit it to a select group of fellow Elvis lovers.

I might have gone a bit overboard with "Elvis" today. I received some pictures, stamps and fabric from Ebay...all Elvis. Then I went shopping this afternoon and was ecstatic to find 2 different prints of Elvis fabric at Walmart. I now own 15 1/2 yards of Elvis fabric...3 different prints. And I have no idea what I'll use it for.

It matters not! I'll have it "just in case" an idea hits me.

Family Problems

With all the family problems we're dealing with lately, I've taken to daydreaming about what my life would have been like if I never had children. The big problem with having children is that you never, NEVER stop worrying about them. How nice it would be to have no-one to worry about but yourself.

Firstly, I would not have married so young and might have been smart enough to obtain a decent education before selecting an interesting career. Then I would have had numerous, exciting affairs before settling down with the perfect man. I'd have a gorgeous house that never got mussed and go on very expensive vacations which I could afford. Of course, I'd never gain any weight.

If this sounds like a romance novel (which I hate and don't read) it's because there's nothing real about that picture. Life is never that easy. We have to take the good with the bad and I wouldn't give up my troublesome family for anything on earth. That doesn't stop me from wishing all of our lives were trouble free, though.

When my granddaughter, Lisette, was about 4 years old, she used to make us laugh when she'd step in front of everyone, hold up her hand, and yell "STOP!". She needed to stop all the confusion going on around her and get us organized. Right now I want to stand in front of my family and yell "STOP! Let's all get healthy, wealthy, and wise.". Do you suppose that would work?

Memorial Service

A memorial service was held here in the park this afternoon for residents who passed away in the last year. When my husband and I bought our trailer in 2000, we'd hear of people who had passed away over the summer but not recognize their names. Today there was a list of about 12 people and I knew most of them. It's always sad to come back to Florida in the fall and discover that a few of our friends had died over the summer.

I was at the service today because a dear friend of mine passed away last July and I wanted to show my respect. Lucy was a very special human being and I know I'll never meet another like her. She had a heart so big and a kindness so overwhelming that she shone. She was a shopaholic (bargains only) and had the nicest darned wardrobe that put us all to shame. Lucy, earth angel that she was, also liked a little drink and a cigarette to go with it. We had a lot of laughs over the past 7 years and I'll never forget her.

I looked around the room today and saw so many people who have become my friends since we came to this park. We're all aging and it saddens me to wonder which one of us won't be back next year. But, we're here today and enjoying life and I guess that's all we can ask for.

Coca Cola Swap Meet

I went to a Coca Cola swap meet over the weekend and learned quite a bit about Coke collectors and collections. As I walked through the exhibits I asked many questions and found "Coke Heads" to be very friendly and more than willing to share their knowledge with me. I knew absolutely nothing about collecting Coke memorabilia so I was like a sponge receiving information and attempting to remember all I'd learned.

Collectors of anything are a special breed. They love their product of choice and strive to learn more with every passing year. I bought 2 Coke catalogues at the silent auction...probably paid too much but, really, catalogues are invaluable to people like me who buy at yard sales and sell on Ebay.

I'll never be a Coke collector but I hope to find some little treasures on my yard sale jaunts and resell them to the real collectors!

What matters most about this past weekend is that I had fun, met some interesting people, and learned something new. Sure beats vegetating in front of the T.V.

Clean Your Plate

When I was a child my grandmother would insist that I eat every last scrap on my dinner plate because "There are children starving in Africa!". Thus began a lifetime of me eating everything put before me because somewhere in the world there were people starving.

In all ignorance, I used the same tactics with my own children. I'm sure they remember having to sit at the table for hours in front of plates of cold liver. I'm ashamed to say I'd often hear them gag.

We are so strongly conditioned by childhood rules that it's difficult to break free of them, even in adulthood. Today I relish the moments I can actually walk away from food left on my dinner plate...bearing only a small twinge to my conscience.

It seems to take me a long time to learn but I managed to treat my grandchildren differently. They needed only to finish their vegetables if they wanted dessert. If they refused, they could leave the table anyway and get on with their lives. It's a far cry from the torture I put my children through and I'm certain they resent me for all those times I forced them to eat cold liver. I resent me, too.

Sweet Payment

I did a 3 1/2 hour stint volunteering at Kid's World this afternoon and received a payment so precious that it will keep me floating on air for days. A beautiful little 4 year old girl walked into the ice cream parlor where I was working and stole my heart. She was wearing a bandanna on her head and it was obvious her head had been shaved. She had such a look of gentleness and peace on her face that I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

As I spoke to her, I mentioned the pretty bandanna and she took it off. Her little head had indeed been shaved and there were 3 long, semi-healed scars which still revealed lumps that hadn't been completely removed. Her big brown eyes showed no sickness or fear, just that overwhelming gentleness that had attracted me to her.

I helped her climb onto a rocking horse and held on to her while she enjoyed her ride. When she was finished she softly asked me to help her down. As I lifted her to the ground she wrapped her arms around me and told me she loved me. I felt as though I was in the presence of an angel who had found me worthy.

This wasn't a sad moment, at least not one to make you cry. It was a moment of connecting with another human being and knowing this is where you were meant to be. I wish I had the words to explain how that felt. I do know I gave something of value to that little girl and she gave something of immense value back to me.

God, or someone, sure works in mysterious ways.

Kid's World in Kissimmee

I was just talking to my daughter about going over to volunteer at Kid's World this afternoon. Kid's World is like an amusement park for seriously or terminally ill children and their families and there is no other place on earth that makes a volunteer feel more useful. Kim thinks this would be a sad atmosphere to work in but I tried to make her understand how happy the children are in this magical place. They can forget their illnesses for a while. Their brothers and sisters can also enjoy the experience and the parents, bless them, can watch their children have the vacation of a lifetime...completely free of cost.

The "Make a Wish" foundation is only one of the groups who take advantage of Kid's World which is situated in Kissimmee, Florida. Lovely, fully equipped townhouses are provided for the families on the grounds and they can use the cafeteria, movie theatre, miniature golf course, pool, ice cream parlor, etc., etc., etc. at their leisure. Transportation to and from Kid's World and theme park tickets are provided free of charge also. Medical staff is available 24 hours a day.

Don't look for me at the pool today. Besides the fact that it's too darned cold, I'll be making fantastic ice-cream concoctions for starry eyed children and their patient and thankful parents.

Cold in Florida

It's been darned cold here for 2 full days now and it's making us very unhappy. Aren't we spoiled? If we were back home in Canada and had temperatures like this we'd think we were having a heat wave.

It's a hoot to see Floridians wearing parkas and toques when the temperatures get below 60 degrees (I think that might be about 15 degrees celcius). Their bodies have become so accustomed to warm or hot weather that they feel the cold faster than northerners. Snowbirds are afflicted with the same inability to tolerate cold so we groan right along with the true southerners.

When we have a frost warning all the residents get out their old sheets and cover bedding plants and potted plants to keep them alive. The park looks as though everyone is laying their sheets on the ground to dry. The first time I actually saw this done was in New Brunswick and I couldn't figure out why anyone would do this. Now I know. It works very well to keep the plants just warm enough to survive if the temperatures go below freezing for a few hours.

It's supposed to warm up today into the mid 60's and then into the mid 70's tomorrow. This is winter in Florida and we learn to adjust. The one thing that is almost a constant is a sunny, blue sky and that lifts our spirits as much as the warm air. I think I could stand a full, frigid winter as long as the sun shone.

Difficult People

Why are some people so hard to get along with? I'm talking about friends who are "normal" about half the time so that you get to like them...then you realize they have a moody, sarcastic side that takes over the rest of the time and it irritates the hell out of you.

There is a lady here who works hard, volunteers probably more than most of us, and can be the life of the party. Out of the blue she no longer talks to certain people who have no idea what they've done. She becomes bitter with almost everyone else and alienates the few people who try harder to look past her idiosyncrasies. I used to just ignore the silences and speak to her as though nothing was wrong but now I'm fed up and will just stay away from her. Everything was fine the day before our cruise but she's not spoken to me and a few others since then. She'll walk right past and not even glance our way. I think the problem started when we all took up a collection for the lady who did so much to arrange the cruise and "M" didn't want us to do it. Her snit could be as simple as that.

I understand she has emotional problems or she wouldn't act this way but her rudeness has overcome any inclination I've had to continue being her friend. She's often moaned to me that she can't understand why people don't like her because she says she tries to be nice to everyone. Apparently she's blind to her faults. If I was a true friend I'd tell her that people don't like her because of her behaviour. But then she'd stop talking to me. OOPS! Too late!

Proud to be White?

I received an e-mail today that proclaimed the sender to be "proud to be white". It got me thinking...am I proud to be white? I don't think what I feel could be called pride. I'm thankful that I'm white because, living in Canada or the States, we have an easier time in life. I definitely don't feel superior to other races and often envy them at times for a variety of reasons.

I have Irish skin...pale and freckled...so I envy anyone with healthy, naturally tanned skin.

I have no true family nationality (my ancestry is Irish, French, English, and who knows what else) so I envy people who can lay claim to one country that their ancestors came from.

Occasionally I've been in an environment where I was the only white person in sight and I have to admit I felt a little out of place. My concerns were how the people around me felt about my presence but it didn't make me feel like a lesser human being.

I don't think it's possible for white people to fully understand what it feels like to be of another race in north America. We haven't been subjected to the conditioning they've lived with for generations.

So, am I proud to be white? The answer is no.

Like Popeye says, "I am what I am and that's all that I am".

No, Faye, You're Not Crazy Yet

My sister-in-law and I worked all day making Elvis tote bags for our trip to the Elvis Festival in Collingwood in July. Five of us ladies went last July and had the time of our lives so we're going again this summer. Faye had found fabric at Walmart that had a complete Elvis tote bag on it (in pieces). We carted all of our equipment, including sewing machine, over to the clubhouse at 10 A.M. and began our mission.

We argued over the directions and Faye was right. We argued over the placement of the straps and Faye was right. We argued over the size of the seam binding and Faye was right. Then Faye said she'd lost one of the straps and we searched high and low for it. We searched the floor, the tables, the garbage, her trailer, and came up with nothing. She feared she might have thrown it in the trash a few days earlier with some scraps. At 3 P.M. we decided to close up shop till tomorrow when we weren't so tired. We had 2 bags almost done.

I drove to Walmart to buy some more of this wonderful fabric thinking I could make an Elvis tote bag for my sister and a few more Elvis fans. As the sales lady was showing me that there was only 3 full patterns in the fabric left, I noticed that at the end of the piece was one lone extra strap. Apparently, when Faye bought her fabric yesterday, the sales lady had cut the piece incorrectly and shorted her the one strap. I bought the whole thing and raced home to tell Faye she still had most of her marbles...and that she'd been WRONG about losing a strap.

If anyone is going to Collingwood for the Elvis Festival in July, look for 5 old gals with the cutest matching Elvis tote bags. It will be us!

Poverty

Much is said about the effects of living in poverty but most of the people discussing it have no idea what it really is. There are two kinds of poverty...living on very little money but living clean and decent...or living on very little money in a drug and criminal infested environment. I primarily came from the former.

As a child I lived with my mother, sister, and grandparents in a tiny two room apartment. There was very little income between the three adults but the apartment was always clean and there was always healthy food on the table.

My mother, sister, and I slept together in one bed in the bedroom. My grandparents slept on the sofa bed in the livingroom/kitchen. There is no way to describe this other than poverty but we children never felt poor.

Our apartment was one of four in a converted townhouse (that townhouse has since been converted back to it's original state and is now highly priced and highly sought after). A prostitute occupied the apartment behind ours but caused very little disruption in our lives. At rare times she would become despondent with her source of income and open her door so everyone could hear her telling her "john" what she really thought of him...prostitutes apparently think their customers are disgusting and pathetic creeps. The only other criminal activity in our neighborhood was in my own apartment because my grandmother was the neighborhood bootlegger. I've already written a blog describing how that affected my life...it was mainly an interesting and mild part of my growing up.

My husband and I married very young and had our three children before I was 24 and he was 27. He was never without a job but our income was on the low side for most of our married lives. We did without luxuries but always had the necessities...then our income and lifestyle improved as we grew older. Since he also came from a rather poor background we were the first generation to really do well for ourselves. We never forgot our poorer beginnings and were able to appreciate how far we'd come from them.

Poverty can breed the "poor me, take care of me" syndrome or it can prompt you to try harder for a better life. Most of the people I know came from so-called "deprived" backgrounds but they had the drive to better themselves.

There is no disgrace in poverty but it can either destroy you or make you stronger. It's your choice.

Hooked on Laundry

I've mentioned before how I have an affinity for doing laundry possibly a little too often. A few years ago my husband and I went away for a few days and when we arrived back at the trailer park we were confronted with a strange sight. A group of friends here like to play practical jokes and they'd decided to decorate our pretty little trailer while we were gone. They had strung clothes lines from tree to tree, from door to awning, and from one end of the eavestrough to the other. Then they hung old clothes, garbage bags, and rags on the lines. I think they were trying to tell me something.

Today, as I was carting my dirty clothes over to the laundry room, my friend and neighbor came out to welcome me back from the cruise. He saw I was headed to the laundry room and commented "now everything is back to normal". Wonder if this was another cryptic message!

Note: A person who loves to do laundry does not necessarily do other kinds of housework with the same enthusiasm. I don't.

Home From the Cruise!

We're back and I'm planning my next cruise! We had the most fabulous weather, the most fabulous food, and the most fabulous service that I've ever experienced...and we were on a budget cruise. If Carnival wants to use my blog for their advertisement, they're welcome to it because my praise is well deserved.

Since I'd never been on a cruise before, my expectations were on the low side. I've stayed in some fancy hotels and been slightly disappointed with what I got for my money. Our rooms on the ship (Sensation) were smallish but spotless clean and not too confining. The meals in the cafeteria were marvelous but the meals in the dining room were out of this world. The entertainment was nice and better in some ways than I thought we'd get on a budget cruise. The casino paid well...to everyone else but me, unfortunately.

We landed in Freeport and I was advised to stay on the ship because there wasn't much to see there. The following day we reached Nassau and did leave the ship. Our first stop was the straw market and it wasn't the same as I'd seen 15 years ago on a Bahama vacation. It was so tightly crammed with merchandise and sellers that there was barely room for one person to walk down the aisle...a definite fire trap and it also smelled bad. We left there quickly and walked down Bay St. to look in the stores where I bought a t-shirt and a tie dyed shift for a reasonable price.

Then we took a taxi to the Atlantis hotel on Paradise Island. It cost us each $4 and our driver was an erudite gentleman who filled us in on Bahama life, history, and customs. The Atlantis casino took a bit more of my money but my friend, Sylvia, won over $100.

Back to the ship and a few hours of sun, conversation, and music before heading off to the dining room. After dinner, we usually watched a stage show and then I'd head to the casino. I left many dollars in that casino but my friends just kept winning. Sylvia won more than $100 there and stopped gambling. Our guide and friend, Linda, won every place she went and even won a whopping $1500 on our last evening on the ship.

Because we had to be up at 5 A.M. the next morning, we wanted to go to bed early. The problem was that our duty free booze had not been brought to our cabin and we'd been told it might not get there till 10 P.M. At 8:30 P.M. I phoned our cabin steward and asked him, explaining the circumstances, if there was any way we could have our delivery as soon as possible. We had received excellent service from all the staff so we weren't especially surprised when he brought our purchases to the door about 15 minutes later. We thanked him with a nice tip...and we seniors don't tip too freely.

On our final morning, all non-U.S. citizens had to go through customs on the ship at 6:15 A.M. Sylvia and I were the first Canadians in line and the Canadians were chosen to be processed first. Lucky or what?? We even had a smiling, good natured customs inspector who couldn't stamp our passports and declarations fast enough. By the way...2 litres of rum cost me $17.95 U.S.

It was pouring rain and cold when we landed but the sun came out as we pulled into our park...120 happy travelers. I was going to take a nap but the pile of laundry I'd brought home forced me to haul it over to the laundry room.

Now my laundry is done and I'm off to a birthday party. Life is good.

Packing

I started packing today for this 4 day cruise I'm going on tomorrow. I made a list and checked it twice...or maybe 20 times. And then I began adding more things to the list. It's difficult to go away for 5 days total and not make sure you have extras in case of emergencies. Like...what if I get a spot on my top and need to change it...white pants can only be counted on staying white for a few hours...what if it's cooler than expected...what if it's warmer than expected...what if I eat too much at the buffet and need clothes that expand with me???

I don't worry too much about neglecting to pack extras when I travel just to the States but I'm not sure there's a Walmart in the Bahamas. My husband and I went to the Bahamas about 15 years ago and I remember not being able to afford the clothes I saw in stores then. Today I'm an old age pensioner and don't tend to shop in boutiques.

About the packing...I need 4 pair of shoes for the 5 days (counting the return trip back home). I need the sandals I'll wear most of the time, Crocs for the pool, navy sandals for the one dress up night on the ship, and loafers for I'm not sure what...but I'll have them there just in case. I will bet my life that the men are taking, at best, 2 pr. of shoes. I'm taking a bottle of rum (not allowed) and 6 cans of Diet Pepsi (allowed). I'm also taking an alarm clock, air fresheners, and a night light. No wonder my suitcase is filled to overflowing!

Oh yes, we women also need hairblowers and cosmetics. I've put so much stuff in the suitcase that my trailer is starting to look as though I'm packing to go back to Canada for the summer.

Well, after a few last minute jobs tomorrow morning I'll be off on a brand new experience in my life. Wish me Bon Voyage!

Perspective

There's a T.V. commercial that shows a couple of very sad young ladies standing at the rail of a cruise ship as it sets sail. The camera pans out to show why they're so unhappy...the ship is full of seniors.

As we seniors prepare for our cruise we also have nightmare worries. We're hoping against hope that our ship won't be filled with wild teenagers or screaming kids.

A Little Dose of Reality

I'm so thrilled to be going on my very first cruise this coming Sunday that I either forgot or chose to ignore the fact that I don't like being in deep water. I also don't like being in an enclosed space and our cabin will not have a window.

Before I become paranoid, I had to find a solution to my growing fears. Like the good trouper I am, I decided to have 2 or 3 strong drinks every night I'm on the ship so that I'll be happy as hell and not give a damn where I am.

See how easy it was to solve that problem??

Bad Hair Day

I woke up this morning with my hair literally standing on end...and it was late...and I had to put the garbage out immediately. I frantically threw on a robe and tried desperately to push my hair back against my head so I wouldn't scare the neighbors. As I rushed the garbage to the road I was thankful for the morning fog.

Women have always been fussy about their hair. When I see the odd lady with straggly, uncombed hair I just can't relate to her. I start fantasizing about her life. She must be depressed or have an abusive mate. She must have been brought up in a hovel and not know it's important to present a better image to the world. I just can't accept the fact that she might be happy with the state of her hair.

I remember the years of beehive hairdos. We'd spend hours spraying and backcombing our hair until it stood sometimes a foot above our scalp. Even when the hairstyle was completely straight we women didn't just wash and wear. We ironed it.

Men wet their hair and comb it out the same way every day of their lives. Of course they can't understand why women choose hairdos that take so long to fix before going out. Ever wonder why we do this to ourselves??

Back on Track

My last blog doesn't reflect the way I usually view the world. Just occasionally I get a little melancholy and wonder why things happen the way they do. For the most part I accept the ridiculous random occurrences in life and just carry on doing the best I can.

In my fairly long life I've learned that life doesn't always make sense. Many people die too young. Many suffer illnesses and cruelty. Many get away with murder.

But I've seen the exquisite beauty of a lavender rose sunset. I've watched my daughter's thin and tired dog lean against a wall to nurse her 10 puppies because to lay down might have crushed them. And every day in this senior park I watch an elderly couple, the wife only partially recovered from brain surgery, walk arm in arm down the road.

There is so much beauty hidden among the mundane and the nasty. If we allow ourselves to become too negative we miss what matters most in life.

My motto is to have as much fun as we can as long as we can. Just make sure you're not hurting another human being in your pursuit of a good time.

Now I'm on my way to Bingo so wish me luck!!

What Have I Done With My Life?

Every once in a while I become very introspective and wonder why I'm still here when others, younger or more useful, have passed away. That's the way I'm feeling this morning.

I've always been bright, if I do say so myself, but I was lazy as a child and never did reach my potential. I fell completely in love at 15 and married at 17. It wasn't until my third child was born a few months before my 24th birthday that I began to grow up and want something more in my life than wifehood and motherhood. This didn't mean that I loved my husband and children any less, it just meant that I'd finally recognized myself as a person in my own right.

I began taking correspondence courses to upgrade my pitiful education. As I sailed through lessons I felt as though my mind was unfurling, opening up and grasping every new concept. I once told my young grandson that you never stop learning your whole life and this has held true.

When I look back and remember all the highs and lows of my life, the best thing that ever happened to me was my children. But secondly was the step I took in my 20's to gain a better education for myself. One of my biggest regrets is that I dropped out of high school at 16, naively believing that I was as smart as I needed to be. How wrong I was.

My life has mainly been spent raising my children and often taking care of my grandchildren. I've saved no lives nor built any bridges. I realize that mine was a life partly wasted but maybe we could all say the same.

I can't change my past but I can try to make each new day I'm granted one where I bring a degree of happiness to people around me. Maybe these simple attempts on my part can make up for my earlier years. And maybe it makes my life worthwhile.

Doing it on my Own

I spent hours yesterday trying to get some yard work done. One of my projects was to dig up a half dead palm tree/bush of some sort. My trailer is situated on a busy corner right across the road from the clubhouse so I get lots of stop and talkers. I'd manage to do about 2 minutes work and then someone would stop by. By the time they left I'd have to go to the bathroom. The talking and pit stops took up so much of my time that an hour chore took up the whole morning.

What I accomplished in 4 hours: 1. pulled out 2 Mexican Heathers (shallow roots in sand). 2. planted 2 small Blue Daze in the same hole. 3. pulled out 1 little plant (name unknown) and replanted it. 4. removed concrete half circles from unwanted planted sections. 5. half removed the half dead palm tree/bush.

Where were all those stop and talkers when I couldn't get the palm tree root out?

Child Molestors

I have a theory about child molestors. Their minds are so badly damaged and distorted that they can never be normal again. Whatever has shaped their twisted thinking has made them permanently dangerous to the general population and they should be removed and kept isolated from the rest of us until the day they die.

I have many memories of "dirty old men" in my childhood who had to be kept at a distance. But there is one clear memory of being molested by my step father that I'll never forget. I was 4 years old. He was 22 years old and married to my mother who was 26 years old.

I lived with my grandparents but had been left alone in his care for some reason. He took me into the bedroom and made me touch him. I was just a baby and had no idea what was happening other than I felt a sense of something not being quite right. During the molestation my mother walked in the door and my memory of what happened next is blacked out. I do know she continued to live with him.

I can only hope that was the only incident because I have no memory of anything more. There has never been one moment when I blamed myself for what happened...many children who are molested believe they must share the blame.

This man sexually abused me as a small child, physically abused my mother, and later was imprisoned for disposing of his girlfriend's newborn baby in a garbage can. No one can tell me that man had any hope of living a normal life or being a safe member of his community. I believe he was able to do these horrible things because his mind had developed an accepting attitude towards depravity. He might learn more self control but the damage wouldn't be eradicated and he would always present a danger.

Molestors are most often men, but not always. They can be your priest or doctor , your hockey coach or teacher, your elderly neighbor or uncle, your friend's father or even a police officer. The disfunction can be anywhere.

My message to anyone reading this blog is that, if we really want to protect our children from sexual predators, we have to permanently remove them from society at the first infraction. They will harm again, and again, and again if set free.

Family Support

When we are young, most of us think we'll live forever. We think our lives will only become better as the years go by. Once we have children true reality settles upon us and we come to realize that life is tenuous. Our children develop illnesses that frighten us with their potential. Our own illnesses make us worry we won't survive to see our children grown. But life goes on and we deal with it in our own way.

I'm always harping on the strength of the family to help us survive life's catastrophes because I've lived long enough to know this is true. I've seen it over and over again in my own family and I'm grateful to the bottom of my heart for the wonderful family I've been blessed with.

My son-in-law had a cancerous kidney removed 13 months ago and recovered so well over the past year that we all thought he was one of the lucky ones. His last catscan showed a tumor lying between his liver and heart and will have to be treated with chemo and radiation because it's apparently too dangerous to remove surgically. David is 47 years old and the love of my daughter's life.

They are not alone. Both have very loving, supportive families to ease the pain of this new discovery and who will be beside them every step of the way. The Cancer Clinic in our home town is excellent (I had to learn this when my husband needed their expertise 2 years ago).

Being in a senior park, I'm surrounded by older people who have experienced everything that life has to offer and I often hear of people who are cancer survivors. One lady in particular has survived 3 separate cancers...esophagus, breast, and bowel. She walks daily at a pace to make me envious and has a very busy lifestyle. It's people like this who give us hope against this deadly disease.

As for my son-in-law, he'll receive the best medical treatment available and he'll also receive the love and support of his family. Only time will tell the rest of the story.

Coffee Morning

Betcha thought that retirees have no problem planning a coffee morning for their friends. Well, you'd be wrong. We're all so busy and involved in activities that I have to move my coffee morning all over the week to accommodate my friends.

This year we narrowed it down to Tuesday mornings because that was the least invasive to our lives. Anywhere from 6 to 10 ladies meet here on Tuesday mornings to drink coffee, talk, and a few bring their handwork. We have one rule...NO BITCHIN'. That doesn't stop us from getting into some pretty nasty gossip but it's always to make us laugh.

When I first began the coffee morning a few years ago some of the ladies felt obligated to bring goodies but we had to stop it because too much was left over at the end of the morning and I got stuck with it...guess where it went!

Today we're meeting inside my trailer instead of on the patio because it's a bit cool out. When we meet out on the patio a lot of the men stop by because they see a small gathering and want to join in. We don't encourage them, though, because they are sometimes the topic of discussion. Last year one of the men joined us but left quickly when one of the ladies brought up the subject of menopause.

Women don't carry on conversation in the same way when men are present. Some become girlish and flirty (icky in a senior) and some become more reserved. A group of women alone brings out the best in us and we can be ourselves. This holds true for women or girls of all ages. Sometimes we just have to bond together with members of our own sex and I'm sure men feel the same way.

True Story

6 of us went to Downtown Disney last night, sort of a goodbye get-together for Carole...she left this morning for home. My neighbor drove us and regaled us with jokes and funny true stories all evening. The following was one of them:

Ron's son was visiting the hospital nursery to see his newborn child when he noticed that the man standing next to him looked familiar. He watched him for a while and then said "Don't I know you from somewhere?". The man didn't answer so he spoke again. "You look like the priest who married me and my wife!"

The man finally answered "Yes, I was and I'm here because my wife just had a baby". Ron's son said goodbye and went back to his wife's room and told her "Honey, I'm not sure we're actually married".

True story!

Volunteer Work

A senior park has a paid staff but actually runs on volunteer work. In my park it's the volunteers that see we have group meals, games, and bus tours. It's the volunteers that see we have an ice cream social on Sunday evenings and it's the volunteers that decorate the clubhouse for every season. Without the volunteers we'd have a pretty dull park.

One of the ladies (Canadian)here will turn 90 in April so this is her last winter in the park because she won't be able to get out-of-country health insurance after the age of 90. What a shame because she is the 8th wonder of the world. She is witty, loving, and has a zest for life that we can all aspire to. Dorothy has been coming to this park for the past 28 years and it has become a second home to her...as it has to many of us. After her husband passed away her son and daughter-in-law began driving her down along with a small camper trailer which she'd happily occupy until they returned in April to drive her back. Last year they bought a permanent trailer which she'll stay in this year, her last year, and they'll use when they retire.

Dorothy uses a walker to get around but it doesn't stop her from being out every day visiting neighbors, playing card games over at the clubhouse, or joining a group for dinner at a restaurant. She's always the life of the party and loves the attention. She is my idol.

My sister-in-law and I have decided that part of our volunteer duties this winter will be to do a bit of housework for Dorothy once a week. One of the neighbors cooks meals for her already and a few others check on her regularly and make sure she gets home safely every night. Like a lot of us, she usually doesn't get home till after dark.

Dorothy will never read this because she's of an older generation that missed out on the joys of a computer. My wish for her is that she have the time of her life this winter and carry the happy memories with her to warm her in the coming years when she has to stay in Canada.

P.S. I finally got some sympathy of sorts for my sore knee from a lady who just arrived at the park. She nodded and looked quite sad as I described my injury in full detail...then said her husband had been foolish enough to do the same thing at the New Year's eve dance 2 years ago. It's not much but it's better than I've been getting.

Looking for Sympathy

I'm having a hard time gaining any sympathy for my injury. I'm limping around like an accident victim and as soon as people find out my knee injury was caused by dancing they have no sympathy for me. My close friends are the worse...they laugh.

All my life I have never suffered in silence. If I had a cold the whole world would know because I'd tell them. If I had the flu I'd make sure to milk every ounce of sympathy from anyone who would listen to me. God forbid that one of my few illnesses caused me to throw up because, not only would I phone people to inform them of the catastrophic event, but I'd also cry in deep sympathy for myself. My friend, Sylvia, derisively asked me how I was ever able to bear children. It was painful, very, very painful.

I'm also empathetic...I cry when I see someone else cry (sometimes people I don't even know). I can't watch the news if they present grieving relatives because it breaks my heart. I can't read newspaper articles about cruelty. I can't tolerate fighting either staged or real.

Since I have such a soft heart, doesn't anyone think I deserve a little sympathy for my damn sore knee???

Update on Knee and Noise

The knee is very slowly improving and I'm becoming more confident it will heal completely, thank heavens.

I apologized to a few neighbors about the noise on my patio into the wee hours of the New Year morning and all said they'd thought the noise was coming from another neighbor who is notorious for late night parties. I should have kept my mouth shut and let that neighbor take the blame. The up side is that my neighbors laughingly forgave me and still think I'm a nice person.

Tea Rooms

I wonder why women love to have lunch at tea rooms. It could be that very few men frequent a tea room and the ones that do look either whipped or gay. The noisiest table at a restaurant is always the one occupied by a group of women but put that same group of women in a tea room and they tone it down. They are influenced by the ladylike setting and attempt to prove they belong there.

6 of us ladies are having lunch at a tea room today and, having been there before, we know the food will be special...small but delicious portions of home made delicacies. The ladies who run this establishment must have attended a prestigious cooking school because none of us can pronounce the names of the entrees. No matter, we'll enjoy our meal immensely, then compliment the cook before we leave and she'll bask in the praise she justly deserves. That's what it's all about!

Never to Twist Again

My knee is slowly, very slowly mending and I've decided that my "twisting" days are over. Who ever would have thought that the day would come when I would have to censor a dance move? But when you become a senior you have to be practical about what parts of your body you abuse and the knee is like one of the gods you don't want to tamper with.

I spent all of yesterday terrified to place any weight on that darned knee because pain would shoot all over my body. It worried me that if it didn't start to heal soon I'd have to go back home to Canada and have it looked at by a doctor who would eat up my Florida time by sending me to one specialist and therapist after another.

Before bedtime last night I detected some improvemnt and this morning saw a marked improvement so I think I'll live to see the day I can toddle up to the pool. I'm going out today to buy one of those heat patches so I'm not confined to the end of a heating pad.

Getting older doesn't mean you have to give up everything you did when you were young but you do have to be sensible. I've got so many things I still want to do and enjoy and being sofa-bound with a sore knee doesn't fit into my plans.

Dancing Fool...The Morning After!

We had our annual New Year's Eve party at the clubhouse last night and I was a dancing fool. I think it began when the disc jockey played "That Old Time Rock and Roll". From there on in I forgot my age and danced like there was no tomorrow but, unfortunately, there was and is and my knee hurts like hell. I just may have to grow up a bit and act my age at the next party.

My roommate for the week, Carole, and I sauntered back to the trailer around 1:15 and sat outside in the still warm air to enjoy watching the stragglers head for home.

Mistake.

9 of the stragglers, including the disc jockey, decided it was continuing party time on my patio and stayed till after 3 A.M. We told jokes, drank (water for me by then) and made an unseemly amount of noise. I know I'm going to owe an apology to at least one neighbor.

All in all, it was such a wonderful way to start the new year, with friends and laughter. Now if only my knee would start to feel better!