we stood there – in fresh thyme – tawking, tawking, tawking – for at least 45 minutes. we hugged, we showed photographs, we told stories. we laughed, we got serious, we spoke in earnest, we laughed more. delightful, it was a total social experience. a visit. in the grocery store.
and when we left, waving and still laughing, we promised to continue our catch-up. a bit later. in person. not in an aisle.
the thing is – these bits and snatches of community are important. and i, for one, am grateful to the cart.
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the blue cornflower corningware baked ziti casserole in the middle of the table, a tall yago sangria bottle perched next to it, blue cornflower plated place settings, a loaf of italian bread – it’s 1977.
tiny cut-up bites of grilled cheese sandwiches – the crust cut-off – it’s 1992, it’s 1994.
chicken-cutlet-on-a-roll-with-gravy from the hewitt square deli…or even suzy q’s and michelob – it’s 1977 again.
heaping bowls of coffee ice cream – it’s 1974 and my big brother is there.
kraft macaroni and cheese – it’s 1996.
burgers and fries and champagne – it’s 2013.
baked clams and lobster bisque – back at 1977.
it’s uncanny and an immense joy to time-travel through taste. we have spent hours laughing with our dearest friends talking about the candies and snacks of way-back, the adult beverages along the way, the meals and desserts of growing-up.
and in those moments of reminiscing, we are powerfully struck by the ability to taste-it, to remember, to hold onto something really precious for a few moments again.
the meme “yeah, i’ve tried shutting up. it’s not for me.” jumped out at me today. it made me laugh aloud.
and i guess it’s true.
i TRY to keep my opinion to myself. sometimes. i TRY to keep my mouth shut. sometimes. i TRY not to say what i’m thinking. sometimes. i TRY to remember i’m SOMETIMES better off not saying anything. sometimes.
so yesterday, in an effort to save the social-security-signing-up-for-medicare office some time, i tried to cancel an appointment with them. i had already accomplished what i needed online and i wanted them to be able to satisfy another customer’s needs.
i looked all over on their site for a way to cancel this appointment. nothing. nowhere to cancel.
but on the letter (which i received in real life as well as online) there was a phone number.
thinking that there would be an “option” to choose to cancel appointments, i dialed up.
nope. no option for canceling.
just an option for appointments.
“one hour and fifty minutes,” the pleasantly-recorded bad news said.
i started to stay on hold. put my phone on speaker and laid it next to me.
but i have other things to do. and an hour and fifty minutes to sit on hold in an effort to cancel a phone appointment with them is a tad bit – well – ridiculous. i was just trying to be nice, responsible, aware…you know, all those adjectives about being a good customer, a good citizen, a good fellow-almost-medicare person who knows that other people have questions too and these departments are overrun and that it took me two full months to get this appointment and i would like someone else to be the happy recipient of it.
whatever.
i hung up.
today, when they call, i’ll suggest that they find a way to make it easier to cancel an appointment.
because – doggonit – i’m almost 65 and my time is worth something too.
we did a triple-feature of romance movies last night. friday-night-date-night. it was cold and rainy, too foggy and dismal to go anywhere. we ordered fried rice and eggrolls and poured a little wine, settling in for a cozy under-the-blanket viewing.
there are sometimes these moments – moments when you just realize that you didn’t realize. last night was one of them.
after the guy told the girl that the other guy had done “a take” – and after we figured out what the term actually meant – i looked over at d and asked him if he ever did that, ever does that – a take – of me. his answer brought tears to my eyes.
yes, yes, two heads are better than one, for sure. particularly now. between us, we can have a complete grocery list, a complete song, a complete conversation. it’s like mad-libs, but real life.
how is it that these words – practical words…not multiple-syllabic barely-used thesaurus type words or foreign expressions or highly technical jargon…just words like avocado or ravioli or well, i can’t remember any more examples…how is that these words disappear into thin air? they are seemingly irretrievable, escaping all the umms and uhhs buying time to try and unearth them.
it is fortunate that we most often choose partners who are in our approximate age bracket. for there is grace when you are both punting for a word, jaunting into the vast recesses of your brain with a flashlight and bucket – sieve-ready – like you are panning for gold in an old gem mine deep underground. only not.
instead, you are just trying to remember the round green things that go on top of chili.
i’m going to try and remember my grocery list from now on. standing there in the middle of the market – gawking at each other – blank looks on our faces – going through the alphabet, certain that the word we are seeking starts with some letter (one that turns out isn’t even in the word) – can be embarrassing. people are staring. they are wheeling their carts around us – two statues in the fresh veggie section, frozen by the broccoli and brussels sprouts. we are causing a rubberneck situation in the aisle. we are certain to remember what we need – as soon as we get home.
in the meanwhile, we know that our people are here too. they are the ones who glance over with sympathetic and understanding eye contact. they calmly – without disdain – walk around us. they smile. because they, too, have a few wrinkles and – every now and then – they stand still in some aisle, a lost look on their face, gazing around in search of some elusive item. and then – you can see it – their face lights up and you know. avocado. that’s it.
and we all skip to the check-out, hoping it is 5%-off senior day. because by now, we deserve it.
the spaceship hasn’t arrived and i am still – the tiniest little smidgiest iota of a bit – procrastinating. not entirely, but yes…enough. i’m wondering if there is such a thing as an estate sale while you are still alive and well and living in the house.
yes, yes. we are the height of fashion, the apex of vogue, the pinnacle of couture, trend-setters and latest-style-forward leaders. uh-huh.
in this new world – where i’m applying for medicare (what?!!!) – we are quite possibly – maybe probably – an eensy-weensy bit definitely – lagging behind. we are jeans-wearing, boots-flaunting, blackshirt-donning … and not so much … ok, not at all … runway-following.
were we sooo consumed with the intimate-wear choices of the riche, we would only consider silk or satin, rayon or charmeuse in nightwear lingerie. but, ohmygosh, give me a break!
we are over that.
truthfully – if people were truthful – most are over that.
and so, we are here to reassure you.
at least about pjs.
now that it is cold out it is completely apropos to pull out the flannel. because flannel – a style unto itself – is cozy and warm, snuggly and forgiving. a classic. it is love in a fabric.
and the buffalo plaid?? THE most popular.
yes. yes. we will rest easier now. we are most definitely the cat’s meow.
it’s hard to contain the excitement of returning to a favorite haunt for dinner out. we rarely go out for dinner so any time we find ourselves being a littlebit indulgent it’s cause for celebration.
but – just as it isn’t smart to go to the grocery store hungry, it also isn’t smart to go out for dinner the day after your metabolic and lipid panel bloodwork results are posted on your mychart.
and so you read – wondering why anything marked “high” or “low” hasn’t made your solicitous physician call you at home, concern and suggestions – with an appropriate amount of reassurance – in her voice. but this is 2023 and there is no time for that and you need be happy enough with the office staff call. my recent physical with a brand new doctor-to-me – which took seven months from the time i called to book it – wasn’t even completed (thus i have to go back for the girly stuff) because i dared give a little context history and asked a few questions about things that were concerning me – and we ran out of my “allotted time”. she did inform me – on her way out the door while telling me to make a follow-up appointment to finish the (might i say – important?) girly stuff – that physicals are merely bloodwork and cancer screenings. they are not meant for body, mind and spirit check-ins to be sure you are – uhhh – “physically” ok. to say that i don’t understand would be an understatement. (let me just mention here that our healthcare totals in excess of $28,000 and that i haven’t once used it this year prior to this “physical” which makes me very fortunate – in addition to mathematically making this “physical” mighty expensive.)
but i digress.
so, on our own, we study the new results, compare them to former test results, look for trends, research what creatinine and various other tests really mean, note any “high” and “low” indicators, look up dietary choices to aid in lowering or raising these, discover (again) that proper hydration is of extreme import, seek answers to lower stress levels (which contribute to many of these results). we power through the mayo clinic, the cleveland clinic, the nih, webmd, medline, healthline, even wikipedia – trying to find information we can digest and the answers to what we can order off the menu.
today i read the doctor’s comments. with one exception – even though i had concerns with any red and green markings on my results – she wrote that it was all “wnl”. i looked that up. “within normal limits” in med-talk.
we are still going to make some changes. we want to do the best we can as we “gracefully” age – between diet and exercise and maintaining a zen-like existence. uh-huh. it’s always good to evaluate and re-evaluate our health choices.
but for now, i’m gonna skip the chia seeds this time.
i am a list person. paper and pencils and pens. lists.
i love the crinkly sound paper makes when there’s a lot written on it and the texture of lined looseleaf scrawled with copious notes in fine point pen. tactile heaven. i’ve tried to keep my grocery list on the phone, but the phone and i struggle in the store together when the list tries disappearing as i delete items i purchase. paper never pushes back that way.
our lists-of-things-to-do ebbs and flows like the tide. eh. not really. it’s not quite that poetic. our lists-of-things-to-do generally flows – like the drains in basements after torrential rains without the benefit of a sump pump.
lists seem to propagate themselves, adding, adding, adding. perhaps this is so we always have a feeling of accomplishment and future goals set. yes, i’m sure that’s why.
my favorite thing to do – when it comes to lists – is cross things off. with an old spiral notebook from a stack of the girl’s and the boy’s elementary, junior high, high school leftovers, i keep track of the stuff-i/we-need-to-do. i am not hesitant in the least bit to add something we have done that is not on the list simply to be able to cross it off. it’s a visceral reward. everyone gets credit for everything. even the tiniest of chores.
in the meanwhile, after any week that you could call a helluva week, it would seem prudent to add “nap” to the list. surely, one would have no problem crossing that off.
reverse threading 