Not the Boss of Me in Everyday Ramblings

The big arbutus on the way to the garden. I have no idea what the white ring is towards the bottom right. It is in a place where a lot of displaced people hang out. I thought it festive on my way down to Ariel’s yesterday late afternoon when I stopped to take the shot.

A fit young repairman showed up this morning just after class to fix my dryer, he had some impressive tattoos on his forearm. As he was on the small side, he had no problem hopping over the washer and making the necessary repairs to the vent tubing. I suspect this all had something to do with the dryer vent being painted shut back when they were painting.

I am so happy to have it back and operational. He didn’t have to call out for parts.

And now all the laundry is done and put away. Once less thing to manage. So far, no ice and I managed to get to the store. Way fewer folks wearing masks, on the bus, in the store.

Aerial cooked us shrimp with rice made with coconut milk. And there was lots and lots of finger food. Quite the spread.

We talked for 3 ½ hours! I love her kitchen. It is such a nice mix of old and new.

We could have talked longer. We will. She went to school with Cher. There was apparently an incident with a hot car, a hot guy, and some vodka in search of orange juice and a vigilant police officer that apparently didn’t get into Cher’s memoir.

Things got deeply philosophical and contemplative. And she showed me her POLST. Baby the cat curled up on the kitchen floor for most of this and then went out for a kitty stroll before it got dark. It is not often one gets to share the deep stories that make a life go in a particular direction. We did that.

We talked about how my parents, (and siblings) somehow instilled in me the ability to not let anyone else be the boss of me. As she was in a cult and married three times, she wanted to know how they did that. It is something to ponder. It has been a problem sometimes at work, that is for sure, but overall, it has been a survival strategy that has served me well. Maybe I will write a poem about it.

She has a condo in Palm Springs. Her daughter is going down in a few weeks to hang out there while Ariel gets through the rest of her doctor’s appointments and settles in with her new pacemaker.

Now, though it is time for me to go get the mail and get ready to teach my evening class.

Then I am curling up with the next Maisie Dobbs mystery and a cat or two.

The next Old Man’s book club topic is silence. I need to find some poems for that.