According to my IPhone calendar (or I'm guessing, any other calendar) it has been two weeks since my last post. This does not mean I am dead just to put the fears of about 6 - 10 dedicated readers to rest. I may be down a few readers by now, however. I mean how many times can you go to a blog expecting an entry and be disappointed? It's asking too much.
But for those of you hanging tough, I'm baaaaaaaack!
Been in the house for over a month now. Still no couches. Hence no new pictures. I've been expecting couch #1, which is a sofa bed for the den/extra bedroom/music studio/living room extension. My first overnight guest in the person of my sister Bonnie arrives tomorrow and so far. . . .no place to sleep for her! Oh yea. . . we shared a double bed while we were in high school, but those days are long since past. Never mind the endless discussion that could be brought to bear on the provocative topic of "WHY DID WE SHARE A DOUBLE BED IN HIGH SCHOOL?" We are not sharing a double bed, or any other size bed ever again. Especially since she snores like a buzz saw in a beehive. It's a miracle I'm letting her in the same house. . . especially a TINY house. Anyway. . . .was hoping the sofa bed would have arrived by now. Bonnie is bringing an inflatable bed for her own use. That's just the kind of gracious hostess I am.
So I'm at Dave's on the morning after choir. We are rehearsing our final Kennedy Center concert with Norman. Brahms Requiem. This will be epic.
What's also epic is that Dave has once again decided to go into serious discussion with his real estate agent, Pip (apologies all around to Charles Dickens, but I'm not making that up) about actually getting the FOR SALE sign up on the front lawn of this house in the not too distant future. I have been staying in this house under the threat of having it sold out from under me for about 5 years! Thank goodness for the terrible house market! Because when you get right down to it. . . everything is about me being able to do what I want to do.
Okay. . so yesterday I drove up early because Dave needed assistance going to pick up one of his several antique cars. This one. . . a HUGE yellow Lincoln convertible, vintage about early 1960's (it's the same model as the car Kennedy was riding in when he was killed) had been in the shop for a new exhaust system. Dave was hoping it would take months for it to be fixed so he'd have a place to store it. Bummer. . . they finished in a week. So off we went to Woodbridge yesterday to pick it up. Ahhh. . . Dave and his cars. Another whole series of blogs I probably will resist writing.
Anyway. . . I got him to the place and then went on my merry way to Pier 1 Imports where I have $60 to spend, which I did not spend, and then off to sushi. A little disconcerting to be driving to choir after that and hear the news report about the outbreak of salmonella on the east coast traceable to sushi. Hmmmmmm. No salmonella from last night's salmon yet!
So after choir I get back to Dave's and trudge up to my room after a long, arduous rehearsal. SURPRISE! Good old Pip the real estate agent had arranged for a plumber to come in and DISMANTLE both of the upstairs bathrooms. By dismantle I mean . . . . . NO FIXTURES AT ALL. As in NO TOILETS! My first instinct was to run back downstairs to see if the powder room toilet was intact. But running downstairs has not been an option for quite a few years, so I hobbled downstairs instead. The good news. . . . the house had one working toilet. The bad news. . . .it was on a different floor than I sleep.
This is an issue for me. Without going into too much detail let's just say that close proximity to a bathroom in the middle of the night is a good thing for me. Let's just say that my lovely first born son, Chad, in his first act of defiance which took place when he refused to vacate the womb, set in motion a chain of events that made the word "prolapse" part of my working vocabulary. (Oooops. I just went into too much detail. Sorry. I said I wouldn't.) Okay. . . so it's not very possible for me to avoid night time trips to the bathroom unless I cut off all liquids for about three days in advance. Funny thing about aging. Men worry about their lack of hair. Women worry about their lack of bladder control. Can't do much about either.
I know. . .Whaaaaaaaah! Whaaaaaaaaah! Whaaaaaaaaah! Poor me! I had to walk all the way downstairs last night when I needed to use the bathroom. I had to walk downstairs in this free house I have had available to me to stay in for the last 5 years. In this house whose owner gave me his original Kindle last week. I've been saving for a Kindle and Dave has three. So he just up and gave me his first one.
There are people in Africa with no running water! And no 988 square feet of living space with or without a sofa bed. And most of them don't have a Kindle either!
So. . it's just a story folks. Not a pity party. And the good news is that I got a fairly good cardio workout several times last night as I negotiated the stairs in the dark.
All is well. I haven't died, nor tripped, nor even wet the bed. No cause for alarm. I'm heading home and will welcome my sis tomorrow. And I'll load her up with a full car of stuff. Because I'm still downsizing.
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