A Mixed Bag
by Bella Rum
There’s no haste or urgency to our days now. It’s not as if we’re lying around all day. There’s always something to do. We’re kind of worker bees by nature, and we will always be. That will not change, but deadlines and traffic and endless errands and tasks and push, push, pushing are absent from our lives at this time. I know things always change, but I am breathing in these days and taking mental notes.
I went to the doctor yesterday. H wanted me to ask for a handicap parking permit because I’m experiencing some distress as the weather warms up, and he reminded me that this is only June. The air quality gets pretty disgusting in July and August. There is no love lost between my heart/lungs and our hot/humid summers. The last thing he said to me before I saw the doctor was, “Ask for that permit.”
But I couldn’t do it. It bothers me on a number of levels. I feel like I can still manage without it, and I hate to give in so easily. A lot of people need those permits, but I’m not one of them yet. Once you start giving in, there’s no going back. They are good things when you need them, and when I’m sure that I really do, I will ask.
There’s a guy downstairs working on my fridge. It isn’t Kevin. If you’ve visited here for a while, you’ll remember my affection for Kevin The Refrigerator Repairman. He’s a kid who repaired our fridge/washer/dryer for years, and believe me when I tell you, we’ve needed a lot of repairs. We’ve had impressively lousy luck with refrigerators in particular, so we got to know Kevin pretty well. We’ve been in this house twelve years, and we’ve gone through three refrigerators. Kevin made a lot of the repairs on them, and he even got them to replace our last fridge. I used to give him career/education/life in general advice, and look what happened. He got a promotion, and I’ll never see him again. Boo Hoo! Kevin’s gain is our loss. Such a nice kid.
The new guy just left, and I can hear H down there putting all the food back in the freezer. We’ll see how long it last this time.
I can’t get iPhoto to open. The photos are still there, but I can’t get to them. My DIL tried several things last weekend, but nothing worked. She’s usually pretty good at this stuff. She put some of them in Dropbox, but…. I’m going to take it to the Mac Store.
Doctor, doctor, my iPhoto hurts when I try to launch it.
Then don’t launch it!