No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

 Last week, during my morning walk through the neighborhood I saw a loose dog romping around my path.

"Uh oh!" I immediately thought. "Someone's dog is loose!" And I was right.

I took out my iPhone to take a video of the dog with the intention of posting my video to my NextDoor app. Here in southern coastal Delaware there are many developments like mine and many times dogs get loose (and cats). As I was taking my short video, I heard a woman shout to me "Grab his collar!" 

That woman was one of my neighbors ("Linda") who lives a few house below our house. She was out walking her dog and told me that the dog I was taking a video of belong to another one of our neighbors. She sad the neighbor's back door was open and TWO of his dogs got out. One of the dogs, a Siberian husky, she was able to get back into the neighbor's house through the open back door but she couldn't get this dog, which was a Boxer/Pitbull mix, also known as an "American Pitbull", in. The dog was always out of her grasp. She couldn't get it anyway because she was very thin. 

I did manage to get hold of his collar (he would come to me) but as soon as I had his collar he fell to the ground and turned over.

"Now what?" I thought.  Carry him to the neighbor's back door? He was too heavy for me and besides I'm very unsteady on my feet. Then I thought I would try and drag him across the grass. As I started to do that I heard a low growl from deep within his 100% muscle chest. Then I looked at his massive jaws. "Oh no, I'm not going to go there" I said to myself.  I had this picture of what started out as an innocent walk would turn into a disaster with me being chewed up by a pit bull, and believe me this was a pit bull, don't give me that nonsense about "Oh, it's just a boxer dog." Bullshit, it's a pit bull. American or whatever, it's still a pit bull dog. 

Not the actual dog but almost the same. I took this picture from the Internet for "American Pit Bull" mix. 

We live near the heavily traveled speedway Route One, also known as Coastal Highway. Scene of many accidents (just this past month two fatalities and just yesterday another serious accident sending four people to the local hospital). I didn't want this dog to end up as roadkill on Route One so I put on my thinking cap and came up with Plan B.

I decided to lure the errant dog with a treat. I couldn't drag him so I decided to invade my other neighbor Bob's garage and borrow his leash (I walk his dog when he goes fishing so I know how to get into his garage and where the extension leash is I use for his Australian Cattle Dog/Poodle mix. 

I retrieved the doggie treat and leash and approached Mr. Massive Jaws Boxer/Pitbull mix and put the leash on him, which he let me do. As soon as I attempted to stand up he took off! 

I WENT FLYING!!!!! 

This is literally how I went flying!

Folks, I was literally airborne for about a second and a half until gravity landed me face first in the morning dew wet grass!

Thank God I was able to hold on the leash and I was able to stop him, albeit at the very end of the now extended long leash.

As I lay on the ground I took stock of my latest Fall to the ground. My BIGGEST FEAR folks is falling and here I had a major fall. 

I.AM.THE.ONLY.CAREGIVER.FOR.BILL.

I.CANNOT.AFFORD.TO.INJURE.MYSELF.FALLING.AGAIN

Thank God I wasn't injured other than the air knocked out of me. 

I WAS LUCKY .........THIS TIME.

I pulled in the extended leash on the still playful dog (he thought I was playing) and lured him into the neighbor's house with the unlocked back door. That neighbor was obviously at work because I didn't see his pickup truck in his driveway.

As I opened the back door to lead in Mr. Boxer/Pitbull Mix, I see the Siberian Husky. I gave him a treat too. Thank goodness I brought several treats with me. 

I closed the door, thus ending a near disaster both for myself and the dog. I couldn't live with myself if I left the dog loose all day. And I was so thankful that I didn't injure myself by taking that tremendous fall. Man, I'm telling you that was one strong dog able to pull me totally off my feet like that.

At the end of the day, when that neighbor returned home from work I walked over to his house and rang his doorbell. He didn't answer. I rang several times before I gave up.

He is a new neighbor, ironically almost directly across from the neighbor's house that was totally destroyed by fire the week previously. I don't know him. I did a little research on him and found he is originally from California.

I tried last weekend when my other neighbor, "Linda", told me his daughter was home. She didn't answer the door either. 

I give up for now. Maybe I'll see him on one of my walks and I'll remind him of what Linda and I did that day by saving his dogs and perhaps he should make sure his back door is locked when he goes to work. 

Just another day in the neighborhood folks.

Memorial Day 2023

 

Bill Kelly U.S. Army Germany 1947

This weekend is Memorial Day weekend, the unofficial start to the summer season. It is also a day set aside to remember those who sacrificed their lives for our country. Millions of men and women lost their lives to defend our right to live in freedom.

The photo above is of my husband and partner of these past fifty-nine years, Bill Kelly. It was taken in Germany in 1947, right after World War II. 

Bill operating radio equipment in the field Bamberg, Germany 1947

Bill (bottom right) in the field operating radio equipment Bamberg, Germany 1947

Bill Kelly (right) taking a shave in the field Bamberg, Germany 1947

Bill was in the service twice. First time around he was in the Army and stationed in post-war Germany. He saw first hand the devastation and destruction that the war had wrought upon Germany and its citizens. He even visited Hitler's Lair up in the mountains before it was destroyed by the Allies to prevent Hitler's mountain retreat being turned into a Nazi memorial to Hitler.  Even today Bill remembers clearly standing in the bombed out section of where the big window mountain view that Hitler and his guests had.

Bill stood on this same spot in 1947 before Hitler's Mountain Lair was destroyed

Bill stood in this picture window of Hitler's Lair with the magnificent view of the Bavarian Alps which was bombed out when he stood there

Hitler's Lair when Bill was there. The Allies destroyed it in 1952.

Bill Kelly, Army Bamberg, Germany 1947
A local Bamberg photographer saw Bill walking the street one day and asked if he could take Bill's picture  to display in his shop window. This photo was still on display a few years ago (I haven't checked recently) at Bamberg's website on the Internet - HANDSOME AMERICAN SOLDIER!

Bill had to leave the Army after several years to take care of his mother who had no other means of support.

After securing support for his mother Bill joined the service again, this time the Air Force. He was stationed in Japan in the early Fifties. He was there when General Douglas MacArthur was still there. Bill often tells me the story that Emperor Hirohito sent a message to MacArthur "granting" him a visit to the Imperial Palace. MacArthur told his staff to send a message back to the Imperial Palace that is Hirohito wanted to see MacArthur then he was "to get his ass over" to MacArthur's headquarters, which Hirohito did. Bill has told me that story so many times. I let him because he so enjoys telling it. 

Bill in Japan 1952

Eventually Bill had to leave the Air Force, again to take care of his mother. Bill was in the service for a total of nine years. He wanted to make a career out of the Air Force, where he was the happiest but unfortunately it was not to be. But if he had stayed in the service, we would never have met and had this wonderful fifty-nine year relationship.

Bill in front of the giant Bhudda statue in Tokyo, Japan 1952 (?)

I know every day how lucky I am to have had Bill in my life and continue to do so. These days most of my waking hours are devoted to taking care of Bill and making his final days as comfortable as possible for him. 

Bill can't see these pictures now because of his macular degeneration blindness. 

Bill is often confused these days but one thing he always remembers very clearly is how happy we has to have been in the service of our country and to have witnessed history first hand first in Germany then Japan. 

However, so many families weren't as lucky as I have been these past years. And for them and for those who gave their all to defend our country and its freedoms, I we remember you this weekend and thank you and your families.

Beautiful Spring

My new barrier against mosquitos, it works!!

This year's spring weather is the best I can remember since we moved here to southern Delaware in 2006. 

Can it be that long already? Seventeen years? One thing is for sure, I won't be here another seventeen years. 

Usually our spring is about four days then hot and very humid weather here on the Delmarva peninsula. This year is an exception. The only downside is this has also been the worst year for mosquitos and ticks.

This past Sunday I had to make another visit to my local walk-in clinic. I had two infected tick bites on my left inner crotch. Lucky me huh? And as usual, the person there who removed the tick head was a young beautiful woman. What? No male nurses or doctors? I know they're there because they have served me before. However, she was very nice and provided me with a "privacy sheet" to cover up. What a relief when I had that half a tick head removed which she showed me. UGH!

I thought I was taking enough precautions but apparently not with this year's abundance of ticks and mosquitoes, apparently not.

I even ordered a pair of zip up combat boots from Amazon which I will wear out back when I'm working in my Almost One Acre oasis here in southern coastal Delaware. Those tick crawl up the inside of my pant leg and attached themselves to my legs and nether regions.

The  neighbor's house that burned up last Saturday is now just a vacant burned out shell. It is on  my morning walking route. I used to say "Hi!" to my neighbor Harvey when he was outside. He kept his property beautiful. His house was on a higher rise than most of the homes here in the development I live in. I missed seeing him during my walk today. I have no idea what he and his daughter are going to do now but thank goodness they got out without injury. 

My neighbor's house after the fire 

I have more to tell what's going on here in my world but I'm trying to keep my postings short. Make them more interesting. I'll give you a hint, a pit bull took me down yesterday morning. How's that for a tease?

Life is Fragile

Yes, I'm back this beautiful, peaceful May spring morning here in southern coastal Delaware.

I took this video a short time ago of our backyard oasis. This is what my life is all about now, peace and quiet here in southern coastal Delaware.

Since I've been gone we've had quite a few events, the main on being a neighbor's house burning down. I'll post about that later. But it brought to my mind how fragile our life and security is. One moment you're enjoying a peaceful day and the next moment your golf cart charger catches on fire in your garage causing gas and propane gas cans to explode destroying your whole house in minutes. Thank God my neighbor and his family and dog and two guests were able to get out in time but he lost everything. 

Neighbor's house on fire after the explosion this past Saturday

We've been having our issues here at home with Bill. His dementia is worsening. He's having more trouble swallowing and he's getting weaker. He even had a little "accident" the other night, thus justifying still wearing Depends. 

Yesterday, I made a visit to the local walk-in health clinic. I've had numerous tick bites this spring. One tick bit in my upper inner thigh close to my crotch (why do the ticks always go THERE?) was infected. I hesitated going to the walk-in but the infection was hurting so much I put aside my modesty and went. The doctor (a young woman of course) removed the partial tick head that was still left in my skin and causing the inflammation. I'm much better now.

I have to take precautions so as not to get any more tick bites. I ordered a pair of zip up combat boots form Amazon. They arrive tomorrow. The mosquitoes are also very bad this year. Below is my mosquito net

that I now where when I'm outside in my backyard oasis. I tell you, if it's not mice trying to get into our house, it's the mosquitos, ticks and flies. But thank goodness our house didn't burn down. Which reminds me, I have to increase the safety precautions in our garage because I also have gas cans stored there for our lawnmower. I'll only keep one gas can there from now on.

Yes, I'm back. You know me, I can never stay away from blogging for long.

Hiatus

 

The Storm Has Passed

 

Bill's workbench

Just like a summer thunderstorm that passes quickly to the rain refreshed sunshine, that's the way my mood is now after just a horrible Mother's Day Sunday.

Mother's Day didn't have anything to do with this frustrating day. Just the luck of the draw. 

The day started off with me getting up about a half an hour later than I usually do. I was up late last night doing something for myself, rewatching a television series ("Breaking Bad") that gave me enjoyment for quality entertainment. Something that is so lacking these days, real quality in movie production. Good writing (scripts), acting and cinema photography. No preaching about political correctness and all the usually Hollywood predictable cliches, just a good movie. Something for myself since I'm trapped here for probably the rest of my life caregiving for Bill. Each day I become more and more convinced that he will outlive me. I used to worry about that, "who will care for him if I'm not here?" but I don't anymore. What will be, will be as Doris Day used to sing.

So today I started out late, so late that Bill had to come to my bedroom door to make sure I was still alive. I was albeit body still in stiffness pain from my arthritis which gets worse each day. And no, I'm not going to get hired help in this house. I can't afford it and besides, I value our privacy and I don't want anything stolen from our house. Every time I've had strangers in any of our homes, I've had valuables stolen. Not by the principal who I asked to look after our place but by their friends, strangers I don't know. Bill still asks for his Air Force watch. I told him  you'll never see that again because one of our late friend Ron Hampton's tricks probably stole it. Same with me, I've lost a gold necklace, pages out of my journal, and other valuable items from "guests" of those who I asked to look after our place while Bill and I were away. So NO, no strangers stay in our house......EVER.

I started out late and went downhill from there. 

I barely made my weekly ZOOM call with my friends Lar, Stuart and Pat. Didn't much matter anyway because I could (didn't actually) get a word in edgewise. My friend Stuart has hundreds if not thousands of old family photographs that he's been sorting through. He said he's finally had enough and just wants to through them all out in the trash, which is usually where most old family photographs end  up after the owners passes. Since Stuart has a rich Jewish ancestry I made a suggestion that he donate the photographs to a local Jewish Historical Society. Nope, he doesn't want to spend the money (shipping) or effort. He would rather throw that valuable history away in the trash. Now if I was a normal person, I would care. So what? It's his business. But I'm not normal. I believe in history, especially photographic history. Stuart said "Most of the pictures are not identified, what good are they?" I told him that I was at the Holocaust Museum in Washington D C some years ago I saw THOUSANDS OF OLD PHOTOS OF JEWISH FAMILIES that were not identified. So what? It's history. No, he didn't get it and neither did Pat. In fact I have an album of Pat's old family photos of him that was given to him as a gift at his retirement party. Pat is a minimalist and saw no value in keeping those pictures. I begged him to give them to me. I VALUE THEM. I've posted some of them in this blog. He gave those pictures to me for which I will be forever thankful to him. I now had an opportunity to see him as a young man which I never did before since I first met Pat when he was sixty-five years old. Of course when I die, that family album of Pat's old pictures will be tossed out with the thousands (over one hundred) of photos I have, both print digital. I wish I could say I understand but I don't really. To me it just seems so selfish and thoughtless but then it's none of my business, right?

An old tintype photo of my great grandfather Randall Leighton Hadfield (he is standing on the right). One of many photos rescued from my Mother's sister's collection of old family photographs that was going to be thrown out in the trash after my aunt died. My cousin and namesake of great grandfather was sensitive and kind enough to ask me if I would like to copy these photos along with many photos that were unidentified. Of course I said I did. Randy died several years ago unexpectedly in his sleep and I have heard nothing more about this collection of photos. They were probably all thrown out in the trash by his family who has no interest in them. I have no doubt that is what happened to them. But look at this history I have preserved by posting this photo to my blog. Maybe some future descendent will appreciate what I have done. 

I have decided to let this argument of persuasion go. It's a Lost Cause.

As I was retreating from that sad and disappointing situation Bill comes upstairs. He's trying to hook up his under the counter light in his workshop? Hook it up? Didn't I just pay over FIFTY DOLLARS  to have that installed last year? I went downstairs to check it out and lo and behold, after surveying the mess he has on his desk (he's "helping" me by "cleaning out" his things), I see where he had taken it down. Why? Don't ask me, he does things like that now because he's bored. He can't see and yet he continues to think he can do his little projects but all he does is make a mess for me. Not that I don't have enough to do already. I am literally doing everything around here to keep this household going, without the income I used to earn from my part-time job at the hotel. I can't have that job which not only provided extra money for me but also gave me balance to my life by getting me out of the house and meeting people and participating in different situations. I don't think I will ever again have a part-time job. I think that luxury is gone. 

I texted my expensive handyman to arrange to have the lighting fixture reinstalled. But after I did that I decided to try my neighbor, who is a handyman in his previous life (building maintenance manager). I walk his dog when he goes fishing once or twice a week. I HATE to ask for help but I did and he was only too glad to help. He fixed it. The light is up. Bill is still upset with me because "he didn't like the way I talked to him." Well, I was upset because sometimes it seems like I'm dealing with a child. A 94 year old child who whenever he does something to "help me", only create more a problem for me. 

After a very late lunch I took a nap. I'm refreshed now. Bill asked that "we forget what happened today." I told him I would. But folks, it will happen again. Because Bill is bored. He can't see. He cognitive ability is deteriorating more and more every day. Again, he's not in pain, knows who I am and can go to the bathroom by himself. For those MAJOR factors I am VERY GRATEFUL. 

I have made a memo to myself "Memo to Ron", to mind my own business with what others want to do with their lives and their business. First of all they're not going to listen to me anyway and secondly all I do is get myself upset because of my unrealistic suggestions to others. The irony of the whole "picture" situation is that when I die, and surely I will die someday, no one and I repeat NO ONE in my family gives a shit about my collection of photographs and history of my family. I post some to this blog and others to Ancestry.com in the hope that someone like me with my awareness and sensitivity will appreciate what I've done long after I'm gone. In vain, I've looked for old family pictures of my paternal (Tipton) grandparents and their hillbilly ilk from western North Carolina and eastern Tennessee for lo these past thirty years (since 1994) I began researching my family history. Those photos of my great aunts and uncles might be tucked away in some dusty closet in a home in Johnson City Tennessee or one of those primitive mountain homes. I wouldn't know since the last time I was down there with my late cousin Bob Tipton and his wife Marie, I was chased out of there because I was gay. Yes, threatened with bodily harm just because I was "practicing the gay lifestyle" as one of my distant Tipton cousins posed that question to me and I answer without  hesitation in the affirmative. You see how foolish I am folks? I don't lie about who I am (and I pay the price).  

I look forward to the day when I go to sleep and don't wake up to all these problems. Physical pain sone thing but what also contributes to the quality of life is this type of stress, much of it I have created myself because I care about things most others don't care about. In all my years I am still trying to learn to cope and accept that others don't have the same values that I do. Man, one of the biggest problems I have today is what is going on in our country that millions still support a known con artist and life long criminal and convicted sexual predator as the Second Coming and want to vote for him as president. God I do hope I'm dead before that happens.

Balancing Act

 This morning I didn't want to get out of bed. 

Of course I don't have that luxury for the past two and a half years. I have to get up to get Bill up. 

I was up late last night watching more episodes of "Breaking Bad." 

I didn't get to bed until almost two AM. 

The evening, after I put Bill to bed is My Time. 

I usually update my online Scrabble games. I also have a late dinner. I don't have dinner while Bill is up because I like to have dinner with a TV show on or read something. I can't do that while Bill is up, I have to have one ear always open in case he begins coughing or to answer his questions. 

Sometimes I just like to be by myself. 

Before I took over the total driving for our household and Bill had his own vehicle, I had those times to myself when I drove my car. Not now. Whenever I get in my car Bill is with me. I understand he likes to get out, I would too if I was in his position. 

I used to have a nice clean car. Not now. As I have pointed out before Bill is like that Peanuts cartoon character, "Pigpen." Wherever he is, dirt follows.

Bill brings his cookies with him to my car . Crumbs all over. 

I'm tired folks. 

This morning on my regular once a week Sunday Zoom call with my friends Stuart, Lar and Pat I was miserable. Not a nice person. 

All is not horrible though. There are snippets during the day that I can do my thing. I get a lot of pleasure from my pond that I created last year. My fish (cheap feeder goldfish) are thriving in that pond. I even spotted new baby ("fry") fish! My plants are growing. I will go out to my pond after I finish this posting. 

I keep reminding myself that things could be worse, a lot worse. They aren't. There are caregivers out there (millions of them) who have to contend with raising children, keeping the hubby happy and taking care of BOTH parents in house. Thank God I don't have that. 

I think part of my problem is that I'm not in the best of health. I have a hard time walking because of my arthritis. In the morning it takes me about five minutes to be able to even stand up straight because of lower back pain and stiffness. I can hardly make it up the stairs from Bill's bedroom anymore. I can foresee the day when I can't make my legs go up those thirteen steps.

Right now as I type this blog posting I'm listening to another track of continuous "shop" music. That relaxes me. Also, the sun is streaming through my home office windows here to my right. All day yesterday was dreary, overcast and drizzly. We needed the rain but that kind of day doesn't do much for my mood. 

I sincerely believe that I will never be able to make a trip again with my friend Pat. I've seen the last of my trips. My next trip will be to the Great Beyond. In the meantime, I continue to perform this balancing act.

A Condensed Biography

 

Watch out folks! Here I come! Me with my Mom, 1942 Mineral Springs, PA (my "slip" diaper is showing. Oh the embarrassment! By the way, I was a happy baby. 

About twenty years I began to seriously consider writing my memoirs. Imagine the conceit of me. Who in the world would be interested? Then once I wrapped my head around that obvious fact, I came to the conclusion that I would enjoy recounting my life's experiences. 

Many times I began writing only to get bogged down in detail. So what to do? Write an outline which is what I'm going to attempt to do now. The one saving grace I have though is that I am fairly certain someone in my family down the line, years from now will be interested in reading the life account of this one particular individual who will never come this way again.

Again, as I have stated many times in this blog and that I reverently believe, I've been here before. I remember clearly when I was about four years old (I remember clearly because it was before I began elementary school at age five) the feeling of "Here we go again."  I was standing on Washington Avenue in Downingtown, Pennsylvania on a spring day in 1945. A long, long time ago but that memory is a clear to me as yesterday was. Perhaps clearer actually!

So here goes:

I was born in late fall of 1941, the first son (of three) of a transplanted hillbilly father (North Carolina) and a mother of Pennsylvania Quaker roots. 

I grew up in extreme poverty like many others at that time of our post war country. 

I knew I was "different" at four years old. By "different" I mean I knew that I had a special attraction to men more so than little girls (actually no attraction to little girls, that "pink" smell always repelled me no offense ladies.

I attended elementary school and high school for twelve years in Downingtown. 

Little "Ronnie Tipton", 1948 First Grade Class Picture

When I was in third grade my Mother got me a job as a paper boy. I had that job for five years until ninth grade. Being a paper boy was a genius move on my Mother's part although at that time I didn't realize it. All I remember thinking was "I have to work while my friends got to hang out at the local drugstore and sip on milkshakes with their allowance money they received from their parents." I never received one dime of allowance during my whole time of growing up. My Mother told me "If you want money, you earn it." AndI did. In addition to my paper boy job I also worked cleaning offices, and weekends at a local farmer's market (in a butcher shop selling meat of all things, twelve hour shifts Friday and Saturday nights).

Ronnie Tipton 1951 - the year I began working for a living

In high school when it came time to choose a course for my future education my Mother informed me that our family had no money for college for me. As a result I didn't choose the Academic college preparatory courses but instead choose the Commercial course. In the Fifties boys didn't take the Commercial course.  All that shorthand and typing was for girls. Right off the bat it was reinforced that I was lesser than,  not good enough. 

Spec 5 Ronald Tipton 1962

After high school I couldn't get a job so I joined the Army to get a job, learn a job skill and to have some choice in not being drafted and ending up in a combat unit. I didn't want to shoot anybody or get shot. Joining the Army was another "genius" move. Oh how much better my life turned out than being just another dilettante college student political science major. I grew and matured during my three years of service to our country. And I didn't have to shoot anybody or get shot at. All I had to do was dodge the frequent witch hunts for service members "with homosexual tendencies". Oh did I have "homosexual tendencies." I had my first homosexual experience with a fellow soldier who was straight. He initiated our relationship. That is another whole book which I probably will never make public. When he left the Army he got married, had children and probably had a very happy life. He died a few years ago. In his obituary I read where he was a scout leader as well as a deacon of his church. Interesting since he was the person who introduced me to my first homosexual relationship. I don't think he was gay, I think he just wanted "serviced" (look it up). By the way I never did "service him" much to his disappointment but we did "play around" which was more than enough for me at that time of my life. 

After the Army I left and moved to Pittsburgh to "come out." That didn't work out so I moved back home and got a small apartment in a town nearby my parents. I began my second homosexual relationship, this time again with a married man. Again, another story for a whole book but I ended the relationship because I didn't want to spend my life as a married man's "mistress." 

My post Army years

During this time I put my high school Commercial classes to use and became an accounts payable clerk at a local scrap yard. Back in those days (the Sixties) almost all office jobs were offered to women only, the only reason I got this job because it was in a scruffy scrap yard. All those scruffy guys. I was in my element. By the way, I never did learn a skill during my three years in the Army, but I did learn how to survive. Survival skills, I learned that in the Army. Invaluable!

After my Mother caught me one spring Saturday morning with my married paramour, I came out to her and all my friends and family. I decided then and there not to spend the rest of my life hiding my homosexuality. I immediately became estranged from my family and lost most of my "friends" (they weren't really were they now?). But I found out that my best friend Bob in the Army was also gay. He had no idea I was gay nor did I know he was gay. 

Trying for a Look - with mustache only

Without a beard or mustache

After I came out I began my first serious relationship with Jim. A really nice guy (who I think is still alive today) but had to end that relationship because he was too possessive. I was young and horny and wanted to "get out" and "explore" the world. Foolish me, huh"

A few months after I ended that relationship I met Bill. Or rather Bill met me. He saw me in a bar one Saturday evening and began a campaign to win me over to him. He succeeded some months later. He wanted me to move in with him but I decline because I told him he "wasn't the one." He said "That's all right, you can have all the freedom you want just be discreet." 

Bill traveled a lot (gone for months at a time) with his job so I had plenty of freedom to look for "Mr. Right." I met a lot of guys, but no Mr. Right. Some really hot guys and some just nice guys. But I could never get the formula of "hot and nice" together. That is until ten years ago when I met Pat through this blog. But in between 2013 and 1965 I had a LOT of living to do. Talk about looking for love in all the wrong places. That was me. 

Me at Bill's apartment shortly after I moved in 1965

While I was looking for Mr. Right in all the wrong places I got a job at a major bank in Philadelhia. I had secured my dream job at my dream location. No longer was I a small town boy, now I was working and living in the Big Time, Philadelphia. A gay friend of my I met in the Army, another "Ron" secured an interview for me. Coincidentally the man who interviewed and hired me I found out was gay several years later when he proposition me. Yeah, I was a hot property back In The Day. 

Finally settled on a beard with a mustache which I continue to have until this day - 1976

Thus I began a wonderful career at the bank with some very good bosses and friends for whom I will be forever grateful for putting up with me and giving me the opportunity to build a career for which I have been able to have a comfortable and secure retirement now.

I worked at that one bank for twenty-two years then came the time of the Great Replacement. I lost my banking job but was able to secure another banking job, several of them as a matter of fact.

Me at the big Philadelphia bank job

This change of my jobs isn't as bad as it sounds, I was given the opportunity to meet and accept many challenges. Make new friends, have new experiences. I was a long way from the small town boy of the Forties and Fifties who was looking at a dull life in that small town. Folks, I have not had a dull life. And it continues.

My first job when I left the Army and moved to Pittsburgh PA was at the Pittsburgh Hilton hotel as a night auditor. Even though I only had that job for three months I fell back on that experience when I found myself out of a job in 1998 when I was fired from my banking job by a homophobic bastard. I got a job at The Hampton Inn. And thus I began a second career as a hotel front desk clerk. I worked at a total of three hotels for over twenty years until I had to give up my job to take care of Bill two and a half years ago after he had two strokes. And that folks is where I am now, a full-time caregiver to my partner/husband of fifty-nine years. 

Me at one of my later hotel jobs

I may end my days as a caregiver, never moving from our comfortable home here in southern coastal Delaware. If that is to be my fate, I have no complaints. Even though Pat came along late in my life (and remember he Was The One),

Me and Pat in from of my former place of employment in Philadelphia, Girard Bank

in the past ten years we have traveled together enough for a lifetime of memories. Hopefully we can travel together again and maybe even live in Palm Springs, California for part of the year (he wants full-time but I don't want to leave my home here in Delaware). But if my fate is to end my life here as the full-time caregiver for my 94 year old husband who stands a good chance of reaching the century mark, there could be worse fates. I am so thankful he knows who I am, that he's not in pain and that he is comfortable at this time of his life in his own home with me taking care of him.

Me two days ago, aging not so gracefully in my caregiving days.

And that folks is my life in a nutshell. Just for the record folks should I die tomorrow. Of course there are a lot of blank spaces to fill in and much of those "spaces" I remember so clearly and maybe I will fill some of them in before I die, but for now at least I have finally put my Life Outline down for posterity. 

Me with the best friend I ever had, "Horace" the Pomeranian - 1980

Plugging Along

 We're still here folks! 

With this wonderful spring weather I'm spending more time outside in our almost one acre oasis here in southern coastal Delaware.

My caregiving for Bill continues. He still needs help with most of his daily activities like dressing himself, taking his medicine, showing and most everything else except going to the bathroom. Thank goodness he can still take care of that daily activity on his own. 

Bill still knows who I am, but he is getting more confused every day and he knows it. Another important factor, he is not in pain. We are so fortunate that at this time of his life he isn't undergoing that great stress. 

He has adjusted to his blindness as well as he can but he still misses not being able to see. He's not totally blind though which is a blessing. He can see colors and shadows. And sometimes, if the angle is right, he can see my face which is says is "good-looking". That's very kind of him but not true. I've aged a lot in the past several years. I was lucky for a long time that I didn't show my age but those days are over. I don't look as bad as Senator Diane Feinstein but I'm pretty close. One thing is for sure, my days of flirting with good-looking men is over. I'm officially OLD. Welcome to the club Ron. Old man. Deal with it.

The picture at the beginning of this post is of a rainbow that appeared out our garage door last week after a late afternoon shower. Rainbows always lift my spirits. I knew this rainbow would appear because one always appears when there is a late afternoon shower and the sun is still out.

This morning I bought a walking stick at Ace Hardware. I fell again last week while I was fussing around in my garden planters at the edge of our backyard. I was trying to step over the dead root remains of an old rosemary bush and I did a face plant directly into a variegated sedum plant. Poor sedum plant. Thank goodness I was all right, didn't break or sprain anything. But I take that as a warning. Take a walking stick with me to steady myself and also something to help my up when I do hit the ground. 

Change of subject. Did any of you happen to catch Trump's town hall on CNN this week? Hey, I'm no fan of Old Joe but I would vote for a dead Joe Biden before I would vote for Trump. Can you imagine four more years of THAT? And what was really scary and disheartening was that audience. Cheering and laughing along with Trump over his misogyny of E. Jean Carroll, the woman he was just convicted of sexually assaulting and defaming. What is it with THOSE people? Can't they see he's a dangerous sociopath? WTF? 

Another change of subject (I'm not obeying the First Rule of Blogging, keep on subject), I'm rewatching "Breaking Bad." After completing watching "Better Call Saul" I was looking for another quality series to entertain myself during my Me Time after I put Bill to bed at night. I wasn't able to find any (sad, sad) so I decided to watch "Breaking Bad" again. I'm glad I did, so much I missed the first time around. And isn't it great to watch quality? So much that is on streaming these days is dreck. And the political correctness has run amuck. I had to stop watching "The Diplomat" when they not only had all the required minorities in major roles but the transexual as a State Department employee.  So distracting to see a woman dressed as a man with a bow tie.

English actress Georgie Henley as "Pensey" in "The Diplomat". Okay, I'm totally confused now. And I guess that's the point. I'm not watching.

I get it, I get it, I get it! Touch all the bases casting director. I'm not watching. 

Now how do I end this post on a positive note? 

All I Need

 Those of us of a certain age (old) will remember the long ago PBS series "Crockett's Victory Garden." 

I used to watch this show religiously. I rarely missed an episode. 

This PBS (Public Broadcast Service) was back when a "home" show took its time with long segments instead of these two-second flash segments on HGTV now that drive me crazy. I've tried watching some of those HGTV show and I get sea sick because the clips are so fast. I guess that type of television is necessary to hold an audience in these days of short attention spans. But for me, Old Guy that I am, I prefer a more languorous examination of HGTV subjects, whether they be a house, garden or other home projects. I especially liked Jim Crockett.

Jim Crockett wasn't one of those media hogs like the Property Brothers (they literally gag me) or that woman on Magnolia TV. That kind of TV is all about the personality rather than the subject that I'm interested in, home and garden projects. 

One of Jim Crockett's Victory Garden shows that really hit home with me so many years ago was a profile he did on an old widow. She lived by herself in a small house in the country. Right outside her door she had a typical English garden. By "English garden" I mean one that wasn't laboriously manicured but semi-wild in nature. She also had a small pond near her garden. 

I remember at the time the warm enveloping feeling that came over me at that time she was taking Jim on a tour of her garden. That was all she had, her garden and she said that was all she needed. And I remember "I hope some day I can be like that little old lady. Just to have my own oasis of tranquility to end my days."  

Jim Crockett and his Victory Garden show is long gone now as is that sweet little old lady. But  you know who is still here folks? Me. And you know what I have?  I have that "garden."  It's my backyard and my pond.

All my life I have worked towards this goal. To have my little patch of land where I could indulge in my passion for gardening. 

After I finish this blog posting I'm going to go outside and check on my pond goldfish. A few days I saw them swimming around near the top in the brown murky pond. My pond is no longer a pea soup green but a murky brown. The pond plants I planted last fall are growing. The water lillies are growing. I have six (yes SIX) floating solar fountains aerating the water. I estimate my pond water will be clear in about six weeks after the plants become established and reach towards the PH factor in the pond to produce a clear pond. 

I am also going to mow the grass. I'm mowing the grass about every Tuesday. I'm also trimming the edges. Last week I planted my annual marigolds to compliment my Lamb's Ear plants. Over the weekend I planted a dozen herbs, mostly English thyme ground cover. 

Every day, several times a day I'm in our backyard checking, planning, evaluating and just enjoying my own personal oasis from the craziness that is this world. In my backyard I don't have to worry about some gun crazy idiot mowing me down with an AR-15 gun. In my backyard it's just me, the wind, and the critters. And yes, even the ticks. Those damn ticks. I pulled another one off last night. 

Which reminds me, it was about twenty-five years ago I was diagnosed with Lyme's Disease. It's taken that long for the effects of that awful disease to catch up with me but it has. I have arthritis in my joints. I'm always fatigued. I can't work in my backyard like I did before I contracted that awful disease . But I can manage, with a little help. Which is where Jose comes in. Jose is one of the many Mexicans landscapers for hire in our neighborhood. In the past I would have dug my own pond but Jose and his crew dug it for me last year. Jose also trims part of my lawn. He's ready to mow it as he does my neighbors on both sides of our lot. But I can still ride my John Deere so I do the mowing. I enjoy mowing our lawn. Plus my MAGA neighbor Bob M. thinks I look butch riding my John Deere mowing my lawn. Never hurts to build my butch credentials. Which gives me an idea, I'm going to ask him to take a short video of me riding my John Deere. I would ask Bill but his eyesight is gone. He can't do it. 

Time to head out folks. 

Have a great day!!!

Capturing The Moment In A Photo

Another trip down memory lane here. The above photo is one taken of me at a bowling banquet awards ceremony. The place was Philadelphia and the year was June 1973, almost fifty years ago! As it is with me I remember names and places. In the picture is Arlene Steur (the blonde) and Peggy Fisher (dark hair). They were both co-workers of mine at the bank where we were employed in Philadelphia. 

I don't have too many pictures of myself smiling because most photos taken of me I have beg sometime to take the photo. Bill never has liked taking photos of me and Pat is the same way. They just don't care. Doesn't mean they're bad people, taking photos just isn't their thing. 

A blogger friend of mine, Mark Himes, likes to take photos. And he takes great photos. He captures people at spontaneous moments like was captured here. I try to take photos like that too. 

I've always been interested in photography. From my earliest memory I wanted a camera. I finally got one at Christmas 1954. Unfortunately I didn't take too many photos of people and places. Too many of my photos were of trees and water. What was I thinking? I think I can attribute my stupidity to the fact I was so shy and didn't want to draw attention to myself by taking someone's photo. Now I don't care. And I've been called out for it.

I remember one walk I had through my neighborhood. I used to pass this one lady often. One morning she stopped me and introduced herself. I introduced myself to her too. Then as is my won't I ASKED if I could take her photo, this so I could remember her name (Lorelie) and image. She paused and they said "OK." The next day when I encountered her on our morning walk she stopped and told me "Could you please delete that photo you took of me?' WTF? What is THAT all about? I of course acceded to her wishes and deleted the photo I took of her. Still, it puzzled me as to why she would make such a request. Then when I saw her husband working outside during one of my other morning walks it dawned upon me the reason why. I guess his mind was in the gutter. Figure it out for yourselves folks. People never cease to disappoint me. As a result I have to be very careful now when I foolhardily ask "can I take  your picture?"  Granted, most people don't mind. Some do. Whatever.

Looking at this old photo of me I am amazed at how much I have aged since I started caretaking for Bill. 

I have pretty good genes (from my father) for not looking like an OLD MAN with snow white hair and  Crypt Keeper visage but I'm getting there now. I still don't have snow white hair but I do have a few more gray hairs. What's really changed is my face. I hardly recognize myself when I look in the mirror in the morning. "Who is that?" I say to Self. 

I wonder what I would look like now is someone was around to take a candid shot of me. Maybe not so pretty anymore. 

Just took this picture five minutes ago. Scary!