Relief.  This morning I set up an appointment for the Husband and me with an insurance agent to help us enroll in a new Medicare Advantage (MA) plan. Hurrah! The insurance company that handles our plan decided to quit serving our county as of January 1, 2024, which means a lot of old folks in town are scrambling to figure out what to do for Medicare. The insurance agent, who we’ll be meeting, said that nearly all she has been doing the past week or so is help people figure out what kind of Medicare plan is best. We have three options. One, get on another MA plan, which is through a private insurance company. Two, go back to Original Medicare under the federal government, along with purchasing both a Medigap and a Medicare Part D (drug coverage) policy from an insurance company. Or, three, the same as number two option but without a Medicap policy to cover what Medicare doesn’t or won’t.  The third option is a high risk move, so I think, with the cost of healthcare. Thank goodnes

Just before sundown, the Husband and I discovered another tabungaw growing in the Asian pear tree, mingling among the roses. Tabungaw is the Ilocano name for the bottle gourd. Some people dry the vegetable to turn into a musical instrument, a birdhouse, or other delight.  One of my favorite childhood dishes was Mama’s tabungaw and chicken soup. Mmmm. I made my rendition a couple of weeks ago with the first tabungaw that we harvested. The vegetable tastes better when its young, its green skin on the fuzzy side. The skin on the one we found has already thickened. It would still taste good but I’d rather dry it. What shall I make with it?  1950s Tunes This  afternoon we had the solid gold oldies station on cable playing in the background. My gosh. There was a guy singing about how his girl loved him so very hard and long that he passed out on her front lawn. Anyone else laughing?   The song before that one, which I now remember, was about a guy who tells his girl that he’ll do anyt

This morning I read an article about flat feet not being a bad thing. Good! Guess who has flat feet? According to the news report, some British and Canadian podiatrists think that flat feet are not abnormal at all but simply on the healthy spectrum of what is. These experts didn’t think inserts or special shoes really make a difference for alleviating pain. What may be more helpful, they say, is waking up the foot muscles to do their job. Interesting, huh?  A few weeks ago, I began adding feet exercises to my regime. I can wiggle my toes again. Yi-hah!

This year I’m planting cover crop plants to help build up the soil. To make it easy- peasy, I’ve mixed different types of seeds into a bowl—buckwheat, red clover, lupine, chia, calendula, black-eye Susan, poppy, coreopsis, dill, and mustard—which I’ll toss around the backyard tomorrow. Yep, that is my plan. Should all the flowers bloom? Imagine….Wow! Today I sowed carrots, parsnips, and wintermelon radish seeds directly into the ground. A few days ago, lettuce, red mustard, and Chinese broccoli (methinks) seeds were planted. Just in time for the rain that ought to start tomorrow.  We’ll be getting four days worth of rain, so say the weather experts. We have a local news station that likes to call their meteorologists the weather authorities. I suppose. Our local news stations feature the weather three times during the 30 minutes of news. The meteorologists come on within the first five minutes of news to give a teaser about the weather. Then ten minutes or so later, they are back to g

Move a brick. Move a rock. Dig here and not there.  One small change any where in the yard and the whole yard looks and feels different. That was my revelation this afternoon while moving bricks, rocks, and things around so I could dig up gardening beds. Then I thought, ha! I’m rearranging the back yard. Again, for the who-knows-how-many times and more than likely I shall do again for another who-knows-how-many-times more. The Husband ought to be happy that I do most of my rearranging frenzy in the yard. We did move furniture around the house a few weeks ago, and I heard not a grumble.  Cheers!

Not the speed limit.  The age.  70.  Not yet, I am. Thirty days hence, I shall be the graaaaand old age of 70. Yeah, mind blowing, thank you very much. Last night, I listened to a story about an elderly woman who fell off a mountain trail, got turned  around, injured herself, and after several days died from starvation and the elements. That very sad tale wasn’t what made me gasp big-time. It was when someone added that the woman was 72 years old.  She was so young! I don’t  think of a 72 year-old as being elderly, especially one who hikes mountains alone. There has to be a lot of confidence and strength and determination and inner peace packed in a person to trek mountains. I hope the woman realized that about herself. May her Spirit soar in joy, peace, and love throughout the Universe.        For years I’ve thought that when my body decided it was about to hit the wall, I would wander up into the mountains and find a spot to wait for death to claim me. Hi Everyone! Long time. Yep