Laundry

After our last cat died, doing laundry jumped to the top of the heap as my least favorite chore. Aside from the chore itself, is the fact that we have to tote said laundry, bag, detergent, and for me, a crossword puzzle book to the public facility--laundromat. *

Due to our respective schedules, we have chosen Sunday morning as laundry day.  

The kids, the cacophony of multiple TV screens playing different programs, the random folks who choose to present as pesky--it is a difficult place to sit and concentrate. 

More often than not, I close the book and walk about outside if the weather is agreeable. 

All things considered, it could be worse. In fact, I've experienced worse in my lifetime.  This laundromat, over many others I've visited, is clean, has mostly operational machines of various capacities and prices, and has attendants on-site to address any issue that may arise.  

So, while I do not like the chore nor much of what goes on in that space where it must be done, I am grateful for the convenience of the location and other factors that make the morning weekly chore not suck super bad.

Happy October! 

For Now, This

Of course, I did not intend to stay away for so long.  

Of course, I won't regale you with all that didn't happen, namely my thoughts solidifying into a comprehensible mass. 

Of course, summer has bled into Autumn.

May kindness rule over the next few days, leading to the next post.  

Asked and Answered

Growing up my friends and family called me Debbie. At some point in adulthood, I became, Deborah and I corrected folks who slipped to call me Debbie or . . ugh, Deb.  

There was a regime change at my work a year or so ago. My new supervisor began referring to me as, Deb.

Other colleagues followed suit (mostly in emails and IMs).  I never made any moves to stop/correct them, convincing myself it wasn't that it wasn't a big deal.  

It isn't.  Really.  But, . . . .   

If you ask my name or what I prefer I say, Deborah.  Deb o rah

Last week a patient insisted on changing the pronunciation from Deb o rah to Dee BOR ah when she noted how I spell my name (the context being my name is part of my work email).

For the record, I detest the Dee BOR ah pronunciation; though technically many folks accept that way of saying Deb o rah. The conversation with the patient was more frustrating than the dozens of emails and IM messages that begin, "Hi Deb" . . . 

The saving grace was knowing I wouldn't have to speak with her again; her problem was solved, and her case was closed. 

It will feel weird to add in my reply to the Hi Deb emails with...oh, by the way, my name is . . . 

All things considered, there are greater issues with which to take umbrage.  

But if you ask me my name, I'll say . . . 

DebOrah

 

Thank You. 

On Theme

 

This photo was uploaded on 07/24/24 with the intent that I would have written and then posted the subsequent post. 

Here we are some days later, well into August and here I am writing and posting.  

In the interim one aunt celebrated her 94th birthday (she, the mother of an only daughter) and another, celebrating birthday number 87 next month expressed extreme frustration with her only daughter.  

This only daughter celebrated and mourned for deep, deep reasons in conversations with both.  

For the record, when I talk about family, aunts, uncles, cousins, it is primarily my maternal relatives I speak of. I don't really have a relationship with any of my dad's side.  I am virtually connected to a few cousins but we haven't spent any face-to-face time together in decades.  When they speak of our grandparents, their parents, and our shared cousins, I'm at a lost.  I don't have the comfort of the history they enjoy.  

Also in the interim of the posting of that lovely sunflower a neighbor died.  Our across the hall neighbor, with whom we had a companiable relationship, had gone silent to her distant (she didn't have any relatives in town) relatives. After a couple of days of her not responding to messages, they called our local police for a well check.  

Her brother (driver of a vehicle with Texas plates) is here to . . . do what needs doing.  He's been here for two weeks.  Neighbors who have seen, met him outside the building report he isn't doing well; he is deep in the grips of grief. 

I can relate.  Deeply.

For also since the posting of that lovely sunflower yours truly celebrated another birthday. Conversations with my brothers (one actual phone conversation the other a conversation by proxy--my older brother and I do not talk) along with conversations with other relatives and friends kicked up a bunch of memorial dust. m

Here I sit on August 14th . . .  well, basically it, here I sit.  I'm not making plans beyond the next 24 (okay, maybe 48) hours.  I am living in the moment, taking it all a day and a step at a time.  

My knees will not allow much more than that.  

In other news I have posted at least one post a month save June.  What happened in June?  Still, on pace to hit 1,130 posts before years' end.  (I'm at 1,128 LOLOLOL) 

Take gentle care, gentle folks; life is a celebration, Celebrate Life.  (of Fame -the TV show, fame).  

Verano

Some time ago I started working with one of the language apps to learn Spanish.  I have had some success but I have also stalled. I have been unable or unwilling to fully commit; I haven't done more than two lessons a day (though I do log in daily) I haven't (seriously) sought out other learning methods, no Spanish language listening apps, no written stories beyond that which is provided for free through the free app, and as important, no serious efforts to connect with other learners for real-time conversation.  I discovered that our local library has a group that meets once a month or so.  But short of finding and investigating sources, that has been the extent of taking the learning to the next level.    

I languish at the basic learning level. 

What will be the catalyst to move the meter? 

Mientras tanto disfruta tu verano.  

I am going to enjoy mine.  

Take gentle care, 

oxox 

New Month

Happy July.  

In the wise words of Lorraine Hansberry, "Never be afraid to sit and think."  

Sitting.  

Thinking. 

Unafraid.  

Take gentle care.  

Apropos of Month-End

site for article

I was clicking and scrolling about the internet and came across an ad for Gorilla Sofa. Imagine my shock and awe when the search bar query yielded multiple images of multiple varieties of magnificence.  

Now, I can't imagine feeling the need to NEED to have such a thing in my living space but several folks across the web exclaimed just that. 

Different strokes and all that whiz. 

Happy End of May.  Happy beginning of P R I D E Month.