Moment of Zen -Goldfish Pond 8 29 2023

 With all the conflict that is going on around us today, I offer this moment of Zen. This is a short video I took a few minutes ago of my homemade fish pond with my rescue feeder goldfish. They are thriving!

Whenever, I want to get away from all the noise and confusion of the world, I walk out to my back yard at at the far end on the right is my fish pond which I stocked with feeder goldfish last year from a local pet store. At the time I purchased them they were ten cents apiece, three for twenty-five cents. Of course they were much smaller than they are now. And they're even breeding! See the smaller goldfish? They were born in this pond.

I would love to have a pet again. A cat, or a dog but at this time of my life that just isn't practical. The number one reason is that both Bill and I are prone to falling. Having a dog or cat weaving between our feet when we walk is just asking for a visit to the Emergency Room. That's why I had to so reluctantly give up "Fiona", that little calico kitten I adored six months ago. I'm hoping she has a nice home now where she can live out a long life will all the love of her new human family.

My goldfish in my backyard pond are my pets now. I even have a frog back there which I knew would happen. You build a pond, the frogs will show up! The same thing happened when I built my ponds at our home in Pennsylvania. 

So now, even if I have a medical event and end up in the hospital for a stay, the goldfish can fend for themselves. In the meantime, I visit my "pets" several times daily in my backyard. They are my "therapy."

Traitors Who Live Among Us

 

Former president Donald J. Trump mug shot. Now a criminal out on bail.

The last of the nineteen traitors who attempted to steal the electoral votes of George for former president Trump had their mug shots taken and published this week.

Of course at the top of the list of this now accused criminals who were indicted and processed into the Atlanta Georgia Fulton County Prison system this week was former president Donald Trump. A man who has been getting away with breaking the law his entire life. That ended this week when he was processed into the Fulton County prison system. Oh sure, he flew into Atlanta on a jet with his name emblazoned on the side of the plane. And had a forty motor cycle escorted brigade bring is 6'3". 215 lb. (LOL!) his sorry fat ass into Atlanta to be processed into the prison as a common criminal, which is of course what he is. 

Look at his mug shot. How long do you think he practiced in his "Mirror, mirror who is the fairest in the land?" to get The Look. Sort of like the "Blue Steel" look of Ben Stiller of "Zoolander".

Ben's "Blue Steel" look - Zoolander

I guess Trump thought this look was to intimidate judges, prosecutors and witnesses. Trump may be successful in intimidating some but I am confident that justice will eventually prevail and this lifetime criminal who attempted to nullify my vote by stealing an election he clearly lost to Joe Biden, will spend the rest of his corrupt life behind bars and away from society. 

TRUMP IS A CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER TO OUR COUNTRY. 

HE IS MORE DANGEROUS THAN ANY FOREIGN ADVERSARY!

I've always been fascinated by the Vichy government of World War II France. This was the traitor French government who collaborated with the Nazi Germans to rule France during World War II. "Who were these people?" I often thought. "They live among us."

Other countries during World War II who were  conquered the the Axis (Germany, Italy, Japan) also worked with the collaborators in those conquered countries. The name "Quisling" is an adjective for a collaborator. 

Vidkun Quisling was a Norwegian army officer who in 1933 founded Norway's fascist party. In December 1939, he met with Adolf Hitler and urged him to occupy Norway. Following the German invasion of April 1940, Quisling served as a figurehead in the puppet government set up by the German occupation forces, and his linguistic fate was sealed. Before the end of 1940, quisling was being used generically in English to refer to any traitor. Winston Churchill, George Orwell, and H. G. Wells used it in their wartime writings. Quisling lived to see his name thus immortalized, but not much longer. He was executed for treason soon after the liberation of Norway in 1945.

I was born 1941, one month before America's entry into World War II. I grew up naively believing the propaganda that America was "exceptional". We weren't like those other countries. We didn't have traitors living among us. Oh Ron, how naive you were.

And there is this other thing that always bothered me. Even see a photo of a lynching of a black man (or woman)? 

See all those "nice" (white) people smiling? 

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?

Well folks, they live among us. 

They always have and always will. 

Even if those two men who were lynched were guilty of the crimes they were accused of, we have justice system to address the crime they were accused of. One doesn't take the law into their own hands.

If Trump and his fellow traitorous collaborators had a problem with the Georgia election, there is and was a lawful way to contest the election. Trump and his lawyers did that, over sixty time and lost every court case except one (on a technicality). In Georgia they recounted the one THREE TIMES, the last time by hand. TRUMP STILL LOST.

So what does Trump and his enablers do? They attempt to steal the lawful election by intimidation and force (January 6th). 

There are probably still a lot of things I'm naive about but one thing I am no longer and that is that there is a certain segment of our population that is all too willing to forego our laws and cheat by threats and violence. 

THESE PEOPLE SHOULD BE REMOVED FROM OUR LAWFUL SOCIIETY BY BEING CONVICTED AND PUT IN JAIL.

Here are the pictures of Trump's fellow traitors in the Georgia election interference case. I post this to my blog for future generations to see. The traitors live among us. And one more thing, which sickened me to my stomach. Anybody watch the first Republican Debate earlier this week? Did you see where SIX of the Republican candidates raised their hand that THEY WOULD STILL VOTE FOR TRUMP FOR PRESIDENT EVEN IF HE IS CONVICTED OF A CRIME.  

My heart sank when I saw those traitors raise their hands in support of the Criminal Trump. What feckless, self serving cowards they are! What hypocrites! And then standing under the sign "Democracy!" They are literally voting for a thug dictator. Liars all!

Here are the photos of the rest of those accused of trying to steal the Georgia election for Trump. 

A gallery of traitors to our country, no different than those traitors of Vichy France or other countries including our own during our Civil War. 

I have some faint hope that my faith in the justice system in this country is restored if they are held account accountable for their accused crimes.

May they live the rest of their miserable lives in ignominy!

Jeffrey Clark

John Eastman

Harrison Ford

Jenna Ellis

Mark Meadows

Michael Roman

Misty Hampton

Robert Cheeley

Scott Hall

Shaun Still

Sidney Powell

Stephen Lee

Trevian Kutti

Cathy Latham

Kenneth Cheseboro

Rudi Guiliani

Ray Smith

David Schaffer

Look at that rogue's gallery folks. They look like you and me. They live among us. But how do we know what evil lurks in their hearts? 

Neighbor's House Demolished

Hey guys, tired of looking at that old blog post of me and Pat? I am!

Just so busy around here at Casa Tipton-Kelly during these halcyon days of summer of 2023 that I'm having a difficult time updating my blog posts on a timely basis. My apologies possums! 

One day last week whilst I was doing my morning walk around the development where Bill and I live, I came upon the completion of the tear down of my neighbor Harvey's house. If you'll remember several months ago he had a horrible fire which destroyed his whole house. Harvey lost everything. He, his daughter and two guests were able to get out uninjured though due to the alert their neighbors gave them. "GET OUT! YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIRE."  Harvey was barefoot and in his shorts (underwear). The fire was caused by a faulty charging mechanism on his electric golf cart. That fire exploded propane gas tanks he had stored in his garage. 

Harvey's house before the fire

Harvey's house was the only other house of the fifty-seven house in our development that had this stone facing. The original owners, Christine and Lorraine,  chose that stone facing. Lorraine complained that there "wasn't enough color" in the stone. Well, that's not a problem now. 

Last week I talked to Harvey, who I encountered while his house was being demolished. He gave me two pieces of advice:

1. Make sure you have enough insurance (he did, his house will cost $630,000 to replace. But he told me he's demolishing what was left of his old house "our of his own pocket.")

2. Take a video or pictures of everything you have in your house just in case your house is destroyed. By the way, our greatest danger here in southern coastal Delaware is a hurricane. We haven't had "the big one" in over one hundred years. I hope I'm long gone before and when that happens, which with the increasing weird weather we're having because of global warming. 

I checked my insurance and I have enough to cover the replacement of our house although as you know, something things are irreplaceable. And God knows I have a LOT of things. We won't go there now. I'm not Pat. 

Thinking about what Harvey is going through now makes my head swim. I just can't imagine losing everything but like they always say, you still have your life. President Biden was in Hawaii yesterday surveying the damage from their recent wildfires. Again, I just can't imagine being in something like that, a wildfire sweeping away your whole life in minutes. 

Situations like this often remind me how lucky Bill and I are.  All I wish now is to life out our remaining days in peace and pain free comfort. The pain free (for me) is going to be a challenge (my arthritis) but Bill is pain free. He just gets tired a lot but otherwise we're doing well here folks. 

Have a great day everyone!

Happy Anniversary!

 

It was a decades (over fifty years) each but I finally found him!

Ten years ago I met the man I was looking for all my life. 

All my life I was looking for this man. You say "But what about Bill?" 

Regular followers of this blog will know the story of me and Bill. Bill pursued me for quite a long time when I was twenty-two years old. Initially I didn't like Bill. He would send me drinks across the bar every time he was in the same bar I was in. Finally, one rainy Saturday night I felt guilty and I went over to thank him for all the drinks (I was very poor at the time). Much to my surprise I found out he was a very nice guy. Handsome and popular but still not my type which I told him every time he asked me to move in with him. Finally, I agreed to move in with him more out of convenience for both of us than love. Bill traveled a lot with his job at RCA. He would be gone for months at a time. I also wanted a job in center city Philadelphia which I eventually got. Moving in with Bill I could save on rent (I foolishly took a pay cut with my new banking job from $90  week to $70 a week). Bill would have someone to look after his garden apartment in Pennsauken, New Jersey; just over the bridge from Philadelphia. I turned down his request to move in with him many times. I didn't want to be "held back" while I looked for Mr. Right. He told me I had all the freedom I needed and/or wanted. He said "A caged bird never sings." With that promise I moved in with Bill in February 1965. And true to his word, Bill never "held me back." He only asked that I be discreet in my search. And I was. 

However, something funny happened over the years. I grew to love Bill. Even if he wasn't "my type", I discovered I loved him. I could never leave him, which I threatened to do many times when we had a big fight, often over silly things.

From 1965 on to 2013 I had many affairs. Some I almost left Bill but the objects of my affections either turned out to be bums, con artists, or married. The two married men I truly loved but they didn't want to leave their wives or family, which I understood. And also, I didn't want to live a life of being a "mistress." I wanted to be the sole person in that other person's life.

For many years I looked for Mr. Right in all the wrong places, literally. Who was Mr. Right? Generally I'm physically attracted to a guy about 5'8 and 140 lbs, on the nerdy side. Shy, caring, smart, strong, and intelligent. I never was attracted to the Hollywood Swimmer type like Troy Donahue. Of course I encountered a lot of "nerdy" types during my years long search but none of them worked out. 

My years of searching was either someone was interested in me and I wasn't interested in them or vice versa. Never a CLICK!

Then, purely by serendipity, I met Pat. Ironically I met him through this blog even though he wasn't a blog follower. Mine or anyone else's. 

Pat just happened to see a photo of my on the Internet sitting in the gallery at the Delaware State Legislature waiting to testify for same sex marriage. 

Me sitting in the gallery at the Delaware State Legistlaturewaiting to testify for same sex marriage 

He didn't know anything about me except my name. He looked up my name on the Internet and found my blog. He left a comment on my blog which led to us doing FaceTime. At that time I still didn't know he was The One. He was just a nice guy who contacted me by my blog like others have done. 

He told me he was preparing to retired from his job with the Tornonto Police Department (yes, he's Canadian) and wanted to take a holiday. He suggested visiting me. I said "sure" but no way was he going to stay here at this house. I don't know him or any others via my blog except Spo and Sean (Sassy Bear). Besides, Bill doesn't like visitors in the house staying overnight.

Pat arranged to visit Lewes August 16th. I arranged a hotel reservation for him which he paid for. 

While working outback in our backyard I get a call from him that afternoon stating his hotel reservation wasn't there. WHAT? I made that reservation!

I thought this was a ruse to stay here at our house. No way was that going to happen. I told Pat I would drive down to Lewes (four miles away) and check what happened with his reservation. As I pull  up in the parking lot of the hotel I see they guy approaching my car. I thought "WTF? This parking lot attendant going to give me grief over parking?" Me, who works at another hotel in Lewes and frequently have non hotel guest park in OUR parking lot? Really? So I move my car to a farther location. This guy FOLLOWS me. Now I'm really pissed. "WTF?" So there I am, scowling at this guy as he approaches my car. He's smiling and then says "Are you Ron?" Initially I'm confused. "How does he know my name?" Then dumb me, it clicks. This must be Pat. I never saw what he looked like full body before. I only saw his head. I just assumed he was one of the several folks who I had talked to on FaceTime over the years. Pat has an Everyman look (why he's so good at his part-time job as a movie extra). I didn't recognize him out of context. When I realized who he was, we had a good laugh over my misconception. But at that time I still was guarded about his "no hotel reservation." However, when we went to the hotel, they DID make a mistake. His reservation was for the NEXT night! Still, Pat needed a place to stay for that night. That's where I walked him over to a nearby hotel called The Beacon Motel. Not as swanky as the hotel where I made his reservation (Hotel Blue) but still nice if more beachy hotel (sand granules on the floors). 

Pat made his reservation at The Beacon Motel. I asked him to dinner later and told him I would come down to meet him and we would walk to downtown Lewes to Cafe Azafran. As I was leaving him I noticed him walking away from me. "Wait a minute!" I watched him walk and I liked what I saw. I'm big on the way someone walks. As I was watching him he turned to look at me and this was the picture I took of him.

When I realized Pat was The One. He on his way to the Beacon Motel. This is who I was looking for my whole adult life!

At that moment I realized 

THIS WAS THE ONE!

I liked this guy! 

That was ten years ago today folks. What a ten years it has been! I've had a wonderful life with Bill but there was a lot I didn't do that I wanted to do with Bill. One of the main things being is travel. Bill doesn't like to travel. When I traveled I traveled by myself. Bill went with me once (to Provincetown) but stayed in his motel room the whole time. 

Also, something else I was very attracted to Pat physically. To me he's hot! That walk! His manner! His personality! And to top everything else off, we have a LOT in common. Bill and I don't. Pat was like another version of ME. We often joke that in a past life we were the amoeba. In fact check out Pat's Amoeba T-shirt he wore that momentous day.

Pat's "Amoeba" T-shirt - Pat in Lewes August 16, 2016

Today is the tenth anniversary of our meeting that day. The past ten years of my friendship with Pat have been a dream come true for me. 

Pat is everything I was looking for in someone when I first embarked on looking for Mr. Right. 

Coincidentally Pat just called me on FaceTime. These days we often talk several times a day on FaceTime and text each other every day. For the past ten years and before COVID we used to get together four times a year for our trips to California (LA and Palm Springs), Philadelphia, and Canada. COVID put a stop to those trips and now that I am a full-time caregiver for Bill he past two and a half years I've only seen Pat in person once. That was about this time last year that Pat came down to help me with my cataract surgery. Pat is planning on visiting again this summer, hopefully before the days get too short. 

Happy Anniversary Pat! 

Reflections Of An Old Homo

 

Young Homo 1947 - when I first knew I was "different". 

How's that title to grab  your attention? 

Actually this post isn't about me but a new blog by my blogger friend Tony Davis of Los Angeles, California. 

I followed Tony's blog "Leaving California" many years ago until he abandoned that blog. 

I've met Tony twice in person during visits Pat and I made to Los Angeles. As Spo says "He is well over four feet tall" and a very pleasant guy.

I've often thought of starting another blog with my own reflections of an old homo, which is what I am now folks. I probably will never start that new blog because I barely have enough time to keep up with this blog. And besides, I've already done a lot of old homo reflections. And believe me this old homo has a lot of reflections that I haven't even posted yet.

These days I am smart enough to realize whatever I post on my blog that I have to be very aware of respecting the privacy of others who are and were involved in my "old homo reflections." At one time I thought if those guys died, I could post about them but maybe not. I have to be aware of their family's right to privacy. 

One of my earliest "reflections of an old homo" was the first time I was seduced by a man. He was married at that time. He had three children under five years of age. He had two previous children by an affair with an Eskimo during his Coast Guard stone in Alaska. I mentioned his full name in my blog post. His grown daughter saw my post through a random search of her father's name. She brought me up to date on his life since I broke off with him in 1964. By the way, after a brief affair I did break up with him, even though I liked him a lot, because I didn't want to be his "mistress." I was young and wanted to meet my Forever Husband. 

His daughter told me "We always wondered if dad was gay."  I told her "He was when he was with me. He was the first man I ever had sex with." And he had to seduce me to have sex with him because I was sure nice guys didn't DO THAT but just kissed and cuddled. I knew other gay guys did a LOT more than kiss and cuddle but I thought only degenerates did more. Little did I know. You have to remember I grew up in the late Forties and Fifties in a small town in Pennsylvania. There was no Internet nor information about being gay. The only thing I knew was that I was QUEER (because I knew I liked guys) and that was a BAD thing. I never felt ashamed that I was gay or queer, it just was what I was like I had dark brown hair and I was tall and shy. I never made a "choice" to be gay. I always knew I was "different" since I was four years old. I know it's hard for many straight people to understand this, "how can a four year old kid know he was gay?" You have to understand straight people, it wasn't necessarily a sexual thing at that age but there was definitely an awareness that I knew I was enjoying those "horsey" rides when Earl, the thirteen year old friend of my Uncle Bruce (also thirteen) would come by and play with me and my little friends, both boys and girls. We would jump on Earl's back and he would play Bucking Bronco and playfully try to knock us off of his back. Again, nothing sexual but I knew I was enjoying hoping on Earl's back a bit more than my playmates. It is hard to explain WHY I was enjoying riding Earl's back more but I knew that I was. 

Ironically many years later, when I attended my Uncle Bruce's funeral, I saw his friend Earl. I saw this man who I recognized but I couldn't place him. As I looked at him he returned my stare then averted his eyes guiltily. He knew who I was! At that point I knew who he was. WOW. Now I knew why everything was falling into place. My Uncle Bruce never had children.  My father had ten brothers. All had married and had children.  Uncle Bruce was married once, briefly, but divorced and never had children. Maybe Uncle Bruce was gay? I'll never know but it seems so. By the way, all during my childhood I was never, NEVER sexually abused by ANYONE. My Uncle Bruce used to babysit me, because he lived with us after both his parents (my grandparents) died while he was still a teenager and going to school. After hearing all these child abuse stories these days by priests, teachers, and family members I guess I should consider myself lucky because no one even came close to sexually abusing me. And I was a cute kid! At least I thought I was.

Well, now I'm listening to MSNBC now because the Georgia Grand Jury just released the indictment of The Criminal Donald J. Drumf (his real last name, like everything else about Trump, "Trump" isn't his real last name of course). I'm distracted now so I'll pick up on this blog later. 

But I want to wish my friend Tony well with his new blog, "Reflection Of An Old Homo." Same here friend Tony!

Home Sweet Home

Casa Tipton-Kelly this morning

 This is a picture of the front of our home that I took this morning when I returned from my short walk.

Casa Tipton-Kelly, our home here in southern coastal Delaware (east of One!) since we moved here in 2006 is the best and last home I plan to have. It is my intention to end my days in this house.

Pat wants to eventually move to Palm Springs. While I love Palm Springs I cannot see giving up this almost perfect (no place is absolutely perfect) home and start all over again. I could never get a home like this in Palm Springs. 

First of all homes in Palm Springs don't have basements. I need a basement wherever I live. 

We also have four full bathrooms in this home. We lived in a large house in Pennsylvania but only had the standard two and a half baths. I found out quickly that didn't work for us because both Bill and I have our own bedrooms with our own bathroom. When we had company at our house in Pennsylvania our guest had to use one of our bathrooms. That's why we didn't have guests too often. In fact I can only remember one time we had a guest at our home in Pennsylvania in the whole twenty-five years we lived there. That's probably why we didn't have guests.

Here in Delaware, I have a bathroom for every bedroom, a FULL bath. Of course most of the time we don't use two of the bathrooms. I have to remember to occasionally flush those toilets just to keep the toilet water fresh.

Here at our home in Delaware we finally have a place where we have nice neighbors who are respectful of us even though they are straight and Bill and I are gay. No "looks" or other actions to make one feel uncomfortable in one's own neighborhood like we experienced in all previous places we lived. 

Another big plus is this neighborhood is so quiet. I LOVE quiet. No screaming kids even though we have children next to us and across the street. No screaming unlike our home in Pennsylvania where "Stephanie" (our neighbor's little girl) always started the day screaming as she ran out to her pool. And her playdates were a nightmare, all those screaming kids. The acoustics were like a megaphone straight down to our house. And to top everything else off they had FOUR ATV'S which they likes to race around the perimeters of their two acre property for hours on end. We moved to "the woods" for peace and quiet and what did we get? Noise. And of course we got the homophobia. I've already went into that in previous blog posts about their anti gay actions towards us and I'm not going to go there again.

Check out my front lawn in this picture. Nice huh? I've always wanted to live in a place with a nice lawn. Be careful what you wish for Ron. Well, I have the nice lawn but man oh man is it ever expensive to lawn treatments. I'm not sure if I can afford that expense if I'm living here by myself. Oh I'll manage somehow, my lawn (and my pond) are two things which give me a great deal of pleasure. And yes, I do the mowing. 

A friend of mine is visiting in a couple of weeks. I'll ask him to take a video of me mowing the lawn. I like mowing our lawn. I find it relaxing riding around on my John Deere Zero Degree riding lawn mower. Both my neighbors on either side have Jose (our local lawn mowing guy) mow their lawns. I'm holding out for now but I see Jose eyeing my lawn. I have the biggest lot here, .97 acres whereas my neighbors have .75 acres. I have a corner pie shaped lot, which is what I was looking for. Our lot backs up to a corn field. I didn't want a lot that backed up to another neighbor's lot. 

As I have mentioned many times before in previous blog posts I grew up living in second floor apartments. For a brief period (less than a year) I actually lived in a small ranch house (1958-59) and then I was off to the Army for a three year stint. After I got out back to apartments. One room efficiencies, garden type apartments until finally a small town house in center city Philadelphia. I've lived in houses ever since. 

I will live in this house pictured at the top of this blog until my last day on earth. The only way I will leave it will be on a gurney through the garage. That's the plan. 

Have a great day!

Number One Problem For Caregiving An Elderly Patient

 This morning was particularly bad for caregiving. It was Shower Day (every third day) which is always a challenge. Bill just doesn't want a shower but he needs one. Never again will I have him going to the hospital and they have to give me fungus medicine for parts of his body. Bill just is not good a personal hygiene. A terrible thing to say and a "deal breaker" for some of the readers of this blog but remember Bill and I don't sleep together. It wasn't until later years I noticed the body odor. He doesn't have that now because I insist on a shower every third day. That said, Shower Days are a still a challenge. Especially for me with my ever increasing arthritis which stiffens my body and decreases my flexibility. Hell, I even have trouble showering myself these days. I can't stand flamingo like on one leg while I was my other leg and foot. I have to lean on the shower wall to perform that task.

Eating is an increasing problem for Bill. This morning was particularly bad. His throat (esophagus) is shot. They wanted to replace it during his last hospital stay (I declined, he's too old for an operation like that) or feed him through a tube in his stomach. I declined the feeding tube to his stomach option too. I continue to puree his twice daily main meal of oatmeal, four tablespoons of sugar, oat milk and banana. After this morning I don't know how much longer we can hold out from those other options. Poor Bill, his body is just wearing out like his old Jeep Laredo. 

Bill's legs were doing well for the past few months but now the blisters are showing up again. He's been cutting back on his twice daily feeding of egg custard which supplies much needed protein for healing. That's how we got past his last major edema blister infections. It was such a relief for both of us not to have to bandage up his legs every morning when I dressed him. Oh yes, Bill still can't dress himself. Every now and then I give him the opportunity to try but he just can't. He get too confused. 

That brings us to the latest problem. One of his hearing aids doesn't work. Probably needs cleaned which I don't know how to do. I have to make an appointment at the hearing aid place. I called this morning but they're closed Fridays (of course they are). "Summer hours" was what the recording said. 

I sent the VA an e-mail asking them if Bill was still authorized to use this hearing aid facility. One has to have VA authorization or else we have to pay for that service ourselves. I already got caught on that once with an eye examination. Things are tight around here what with me not working at the hotel for the past two and a half years and prices going up on everything from lawn care (a major expense here) to grocery products. 

And this brings me to the subject of this blog. Know what the Number One Problem Of Caregiving An Elderly Patient is? It's addressing the patient's memory problem. I must have told Bill at least four times this morning that I have to call the hearing aid place to make an appointment to have his hearing aid checked. An hour later he asks me "What are you going to do?" I tell him again. About forty-five minutes laters he asks me again. Again I tell him that I have to get authorization from the VA and take his hearing aid to the hearing aid place and get it checked. It probably just needs cleaned. Guess what? He just asked me again "What are you going to do?"  Now I'm getting exasperated and tell him "I just told you FOUR times I have to have the hearing aid place checkout your hearing aid." Know what? He'll asked me at least two or three more times today and all through the weekend "What are you going to do?" 

And that folks is the Number One Problem For Caregiving An Elderly Patient: Memory loss.

And this caregiver has to be patient (no pun intended) when I explain again (and again, and again, and again, and again) that I have to take his hearing aid to the hearing aid place to be repaired. 

I was talking to Pat earlier about this situation. Pat will probably be my caregiver should I last that long (which I seriously doubt). If I find myself in that situation I'm checking out folks. Count on it folks. 

Plumber Visit

The plumber "repairing" my garbage disposal yesterday morning.

Oh I had one of THOSE days yesterday!

My garbage disposal wasn't working. I've had this garbage disposal since 2006, when this house was built. Since the average lifespan of garbage disposals are ten to twelve years, I figure my garbage disposal had bought the ghost. Even though I don't dispose of garbage via my garbage disposal (I wonder how many times I'm going to say "garbage disposal" in this posting!), I do run it occasionally to make sure the remnants of Bill's pureed oatmeal goes down the drain. And of course the general muck that accumulates. But Sunday when I flipped the garbage disposal switch, just a slight humming sound. 

I put a call into my service company which I have a maintenance contract with for my HVAC, electric and plumbing. I told them it wasn't an emergency so the plumber came out yesterday morning. That's one good thing about this service company, they do come out which is always a challenge here in Slower Lower Delaware. They're costly, but they DO come out which in the end is important.

Well, yesterday I learned a valuable lesson. It was VERY COSTLY because all the plumber had to do was reset the button on the bottom of my disposal with that Alan wrench that lies on the floor of my sink cabinet. SO THAT IS WHAT THAT TOOL IS FOR. He said the disposal was jammed and this wrench application (turning it right or left on the bottom of the disposal) resets it. And indeed the garbage disposal was now working. 

So what was the cost for this maybe thirty second job. Just to come out (he came from Maryland) is $49. Then there is a "diagnostic" cost of $125. That's wright kids, a total cost of $174 for turning the screw. Something I could have easily done had I not continue to be so stupid with handyman jobs. Oh well, ANOTHER lesson learned. At this time of my life I would think I've learned enough "lessons" but I guess there is always room for more lessons. Now if Bill was his normal self (before his strokes and blindness) he would have easily fixed it. Never in a million years did I expect to become the handyman around Casa Tipton-Kelly but it is happening by increments. 

This keeps up I'll go to my grave butch.