Exit 198 in A small but passable life.

I did manage to finish “The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer” by Carol De Chellis Hill (a re-read) before I left. That’s twelve books for the year so far.

The flight West went off without a hitch. I got to the airport about 5:30pm. I was at Mom’s at about 10pm. I had a seat in the very last row and ended up with the whole row of three seats to myself. Crazy.

The plane landed ten minutes early but three planes had landed at once so we had to wait for a gate. Mesa has outside ramps. And then I had to wait for my checked bag. That took longer than I thought it would. And then Jerry and I had to figure out how to raise the gate to get out of the parking lot. He tried his card with no luck and then he hollered for help and we used mine. And it worked.

Jerry is an eighty-something year old Trumpster. Needless to say, the conversation out to Exit 198 was typical. I just agreed with everything he said. I could tell he was rather disappointed about that.

I stayed up way past my bed time chatting with Mom. And I woke early which was early but not early because of the time change.

Yesterday I spent two hours at the pool while Mom played cards. I’m a bit tinged red today.

Last night I set up camp out in Mom’s sewing room. I have a borrowed inflatable bed tucked into one corner. I slept with the windows open last night and slept very well.

Today I went out to run errands. Three hours of running around and I had all tasks completed. Oh yeah. It’s been a year since I’ve been in that particular grocery store. I know it’s not my imagination that grocery prices at that store are much higher than a year ago.

Tomorrow is Mom’s eightieth birthday. Four or five of us are going out to Olive Garden for dinner.

I was playing with Mom’s blood pressure cuff and got a reading of 132/92. WTF? I donated plasma twice a week on and off for ten years and a total of 874 donations by 2008 and ALWAYS had a BP of 100/50. When I went to that free health clinic about five years ago my BP was about that.

So I look online and find that the current reading makes me Stage 1 hypertensive. WTF? I seldom add salt to my food. But I do eat processed foods like canned soups. And processed meat. Exercise? Please. I don’t even walk much anymore.

Fuck getting old. Punch my ticket. I’m bored. I’m done.

Mom wants to go to Walmart to get her nails done. I’ll check my BP in that checker thing they have there.

(Just now, 3:29pm, BP 121/82.)

So yeah, here I sit, doing the dutiful son gig. It’s not so bad.

Oh yeah, the new porch looks great. I think the guys went beyond good workmanship to craftsmanship. All pressure treated frame and a composite deck. Wide, wide steps going up and heading straight into the back door. No steps on the front which will keep people from knocking on the patio door. Nice.

Anyway, I’m making a taco casserole for dinner. I found all the ingredients except the ground beef in the cupboards.

93 degrees today.