Tuesday, October 13, 2020

The Mundane

I am grateful for the mundane. The ordinary. I had some running around lurching to do today. I took breaks.

I try not to get annoyed while I repeatedly ask my pharmacy for delivery. They ignore my instructions. But then text me 850 times to come pick up my script, what's wrong with me. Yeah, I'm grateful I still lurch my way in there.

I took a lunch break at a distanced cafe and was quite shocked when I realized the geezer at the table in the corner was flirting with me, eyebrows waggling, big grin. I smiled crisply (if there is such a thing, but years of practice, etc.) but he persisted, asking how my iced coffee and sandwich were and then I just nose dived into the device.

A couple facing me at a safe distance were (she was) talking about her red nails and her manicure and the gossip out of the nail salon and how she never felt feminine (what the hell does that mean?) unless she could look at her nails with pride. He didn't contribute one word to the conversation. She asked him if it should be a deeper red, well maybe next time, what did he think? He shrugged. LIke aliens to me, these two.

I finally sorted my headset issue in Staples and returned the faulty one. Pay peanuts get monkeys. My new one works like a charm, a lot more expensive but it means I can resume Zoom meetings again. I missed them, especially my family one on Sunday nights.

A pigeon was dying as I drove back into the parking lot. Very distressing. Couldn't fly and trying to hide under the cars. Poor pet. Many residents circling around it, none, of course, wearing masks. I'm the outlaw in the mask. I hope it's not an omen.

A friend had a particularly brutal thing happen in his cottage in Ontario where his fireplace blew up. Details are scant but he was airlifted to Toronto and as I write the plug is being pulled. He was a Harley rider with those delightful childlike qualities that some men have. His 90+ father is still living. Last week, he posted a picture of the five generations of men from his father down. At least he lived that long.

We never know for whom the bell tolls.

32 comments:

  1. Oh, no, fireplace blew up. Awful. Sorry.
    Maybe they were alien?
    Old geezer.... ;)

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    1. I never understand this focussing on painted bits on bodies. Seriously she went off for about 15 minutes. Much ado about nothing as our friend Will would have it.

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    2. Some people only THINK they have it hard and have to make things up to be upset about. Probably one of those high maintenance/low intelligence gals.

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    3. Painted bits. Pierced bits. Tattooed bits. I have nothing against anyone who wants to do this sort of thing. Their bodies after all, but I don't understand why anyone would spend so much money decorating themselves.

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  2. I love to listen to other people's conversations! I like getting my feet done, mainly because it is too hard to cut my toenails myself. I now get my fingers done as well but in a clear colour that I take off in less than a week, again it feels good to get all the dead skin removed.
    We took our prescriptions (and I encouraged a friend in the building as well) from those nasty chains (SDM and Rexall) to a local place within steps of the building. They deliver my friend's medications like clockwork. They are friendly and professional.
    So sorry to hear about your friend, a horrible way to go. His father must be devastated.

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    1. I love eavesdropping. I am sometimes startled at others' lives and and concerns. I guess we all deal with stress in different ways.

      I will try and find a locally owned pharmacy. Lawton's are very disorganized.

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  3. Maybe the nail women was focusing on the trivial to gloss over her stress levels, uncertainly...who knows. Some people cope in different ways to what we would expect. What a truly horrible thing to happen to your friend. It must be horrible to be an old person and have your own children die, and it happens often enough.

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    1. It is an awful thing to outlive one's children. I observed it in my beloved Granny when my mother died and also in an aunt when her youngest died of lung cancer.

      Yes we cope in different ways indeed Andrew that are sometimes hard to fathom.

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    2. Yes, other ways of coping are sometimes hard to fathom, Andrew, and it made me sad to see how unhappy she was after her 15 minute treatise on nails and nail parlours.

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  4. Poor pigeon, I know they are called feathered rats, but still. You always hear how dangerous motorcycle riding is, but fireplaces? Poor guy. My brother is a rider, actually both are but only one has a bike right now.

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    1. Odd how we do that to birds - classify them in our human limitations way. Like dandelions. I never slept easily when Younger Daughter rode a Harley and would ride all over the states. Alone.
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  5. Kudos to you to push on through such a strenuous day. Plus hit on at lunch. Listening in on the nails, not so bad. I can't afford it. Sigh.

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    1. Thanks for affirming my really tough day, Joanne, I was absolutely exhausted. Barely making it along the long halls of the building.

      I've never liked my own hands, I call them the chubbies. Barely an octave on the piano. Maybe if they were lovely I would be mad for the polish.

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  6. Your poor friend.
    And the poor pigeon.
    And a big sigh at the necessity to drag yourself back to the pharmacy. All your spoons fully used I strongly suspect.
    I am a confirmed eavesdropper - though my jaw would drop at the meaninglessness of that one sided conversation.

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    1. Way over my spoon allowance EC. I nearly curled up and died. I start out full of piss and vinegar and then it all evaporates. And far too quickly.

      Yes, I want to write a story about her and her overall unhappiness. And his. A two sided story.

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  7. Several people here in the flats where I live get their pharmaceuticals delivered, yet to my eyes they seem quite capable of walking the short distance to the nearest shopping centre. They all walk around to each others flats with no trouble.
    I've never felt feminine in my life and I don't think nicely manicured nails would help.

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    1. Interesting, maybe it's a time allocation of some sort. Feminity is a performance of some kind. I would begrudge the time. Several women in my building spend hours have hair dyed and when I see them I wonder why as their faces look so old and wrinkled underneath the blond or red hair. And brain cancer is linked to hair colouring. :(

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  8. Poor friend ogf yours, or rather poor family of his.
    Manicure never appealed to me. My nails are feeling uncomfortable, moist and hot from paint, plus I just feel ridiculous, not feminine ;) It's more the one-sidedness of the conversation that would have put me off. I'm guilty of eavesdropping as well, train travelling and mobile phones makes it too easy to listen in.

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    1. I think a story needs to be written on the couple.

      Yes, my poor friend. A lot has been written about him today. He touched 100s, if not 1000s of lives.

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  9. Yes, what on earth does that mean, to feel feminine? I doubt if she could define it.

    His fireplace blew up? Extraordinary - how did that happen? As you say, we never know for whom the bell tolls.

    Northern Ireland is going into semi-lockdown for four weeks as the virus infection rates are now some of the highest in the world (for no obvious reason).

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    1. That is awful about NI, Nick, the republic aren't doing well either. Contact tracing is so important.

      I imagine, but not confirmed that his big fireplace was too near his propane tanks. Just guessing.

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    2. Often people putting the wrong sort of stone at the back of the fireplace.

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  10. These tales are anything but mundane and ordinary! It all depends on how you look at them.

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    1. How very wise, Ramana, there is so much underneath every human interaction.

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  11. Testing, comments evaporating in ether.........

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  12. Too bad about your friend in the hospital. Life is short. Hilarious about that guy who was flirting with you. What's wrong with that??? Hahaha

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    1. I am always surprised when a guy flirts with me, at my age it's rare but also suspect.

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  13. Sorry about your friend. Think that's one of the harder parts of aging is what happens to our older family members and friends though many of my younger ones depart, too. Even the poor pigeon — wonder if injured or just aging?

    Seems it takes so little any more to wear me down — days to accomplish what i once did in a matter of a few hours one morning or afternoon.

    Maybe your flirter has been locked away due to virus and was desperate for some conversation with another human being — still, i guess you would know from the looks he was giving you.

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    1. Oh I knew from the looks Joared, that waggly eyebrow thingy was not conducive to an intellectual exchange of idea, LOL.

      Yes, my friend has now passed, and I am relieved and happy for him. He would have hated dependency of any kind and is now free to ride his Harley to the stars.

      Surviving friends and dearies has its downside.

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  14. People interest me. I am a watcher (and a listener). Once I was sorting my work supplies which were stored in an old barn. There was a pigeon who did not fly. He just walked around. He made no sound. Just walking about the barn. It struck me that I'd never seen such a depressed looking bird. I went over and there was the body of another pigeon on the floor. Silly to think that the bird was mourning. When I came home I looked up pigeons and found that they are thought to be monogamous.

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  15. Yes, a fresh thought on that Debby, he could have been mourning. I've observed first hand crows mourning. And swans do as well, I remember a particularly vicious male guarding his cygnets when his partner died. He wouldn't let maintenance at the lake go near him.

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