Holding Pattern

“Your call will be taken in the order it was received!” How many of us have heard that annoying recording? I am writing this with the phone tucked under my ear, having been on hold for the past 31 minutes waiting to speak with someone regarding an insurance issue. What makes this even more aggravating is the fact that this is the third department I have been shuffled off to. I swear people just pass the buck and send you anywhere, as long as they don’t have to deal with you.

On my first call I was directed into an automated system, upon entering every conceivable piece of information; name, ID number, date of birth, address, phone number, what I ate for breakfast, I was transferred to a customer service representative who proceeded to ask me all the same questions. After my interrogation she tells me that I need to call a different number, where again I sat on hold for over 20 minutes. Another round of questioning by yet another snippy representative resulted in yet another transfer to another department!

It has now been over an hour that I have been…hold on…I think I am about to be connected to a human…

…Can you believe it?! I was transferred to another recording saying that “due to high call volume, they can’t take my call right now, so call back”…are they serious? I think my blood pressure just went up! I’ve wasted the best part of the morning in a holding pattern!

For the most part, I am a pretty easy going person but I must confess that there are two things that drive me insane, one is being stuck in traffic and the other is being put on hold, especially for extended periods of time.

Well, I’m taking my now cranky, high blood pressured self outside, in the sunshine, and when I have relaxed, I will go back inside and repeat this act of futility all over again!

A Memory of Springtime

Every spring when the Forsythia starts to bloom, my memory drifts back to springtime many years ago.

When I was eleven years old, I learned to drive. My friend Hannah’s parents owned a farm and we used to drive an old pickup around one of the pastures and oh what fun we had! Well, my dear Mom had never learned to drive and wasn’t really sure if she wanted to, but when I was old enough to get my Learner’s Permit my Dad and I convinced her to get hers too. For myself I wasn’t too worried about the actual driving but I had to learn all the rules of the road, so Mom and I studied together. Mom thought she should go to Driver’s School but my Dad thought he could do the same job, so every evening after dinner he would take Mom out for a lesson.

Let me just mention that my Dad was not someone you wanted as a driving instructor, this I can tell you from my own experience of driving with him. He had a way of making you so nervous with his constant warnings of the traffic ahead. Anyway back to Mom…

It was a lovely spring evening, I was on dish duty as Mom and Dad headed for the old Plymouth in the driveway. The nightly driving lesson usually lasted about half hour resulting in Mom coming in the house muttering something like, “Never again!” Well this particular evening, I had finished with my chores and decided to walk outside and watch Mom drive down the street. Our house was three houses down from the corner, where a neighbor’s giant Forsythia bush had recently blossomed in her front yard.

Dad’s car made a certain noise and I could hear it coming. Walking to the end of the driveway I looked up the street…just in time to see Mom take the corner too sharply and plow into the Forsythia, and…keep going…right back to our house!

After Mom had calmed down and Dad plucked the remainder of Forsythia branches from the hood and bumper, he went to speak with the homeowner, and assess the damage to the bush. At the time, my parents didn’t know the person who owned the house as the property had recently sold and the new owner was in process of moving in. As it turned out, no one was home, and the damage, luckily, was not much more than a couple of tire tracks in the lawn and a few broken branches.

By now, the sun had set, so under the cover of darkness, Dad returned to the neighbor’s this time armed with a wheelbarrow, rake and shovel. He repaired the lawn and fixed the Forsythia to almost perfect condition.

A few days later, Mom met Sally, the new neighbor and as time went by, they became the best of friends, even sharing a good laugh over Mom’s mishap. They remained friends for many, many years but after the Forsythia ‘fiasco’ Mom never got behind the wheel again.

Just Call Me Grace

The past few weeks have been a bit of a bumpy ride. Apart from having writer’s block, I experienced a couple of ‘graceful’ mishaps.

One afternoon, while my son was visiting, I took him for a ride to show him some of the local scenery. Around lunchtime we stopped to grab a bite to eat and I wanted to let our dog, Lucy stretch her legs. I went to hook her leash and for whatever reason I didn’t catch it the right way, well she thought she was hooked and hopped out of the car…unleashed! I panicked as there was quite a bit of traffic and Lucy trotted off thinking she was attached. Without even thinking, I lunged at the poor dog, grabbing on to her fur. This action, of course, totally startled her and she pulled away with quite a bit of force causing me to fall down on my knees; I managed to catch myself just before my nose met the asphalt! Lucy, evidently thought it was playtime and came back to join in…thank goodness!

I can imagine how this all looked to anyone watching! My son figures if anyone had a video phone, I’ll be featured on ‘YouTube’ soon.

Then, one Saturday morning, a couple of weeks after my son left, I was taking Lucy to the groomer. We had had some freezing rain overnight that coated the vehicles but the ground just looked wet. I had put Lucy in the back seat of my car and was just about to open the front door to get my ice scraper. Next to the door there was a small patch of ice, that I hadn’t noticed and down I went! My automatic reaction was to grab the car for support; of course it was totally covered in ice so my arm just slid down the side as the rest of me slid under the car! Lying there just long enough to feel the, now, melted ice soak through my blue jeans, I crawled out from under my car, all the time being thankful that the neighbors were out of town!

When I fell the first time, it immediately felt like all my organs had been jarred and moved two inches to the left. The fall on the ice didn’t really hurt that much…at first. It wasn’t until later in the day that the pain hit…with a vengeance!

Now, slowly, I am on the mend, I am moving a little easier and can sit for longer periods of time. These ‘graceful’ moments served as a reality check, a reminder that this older body doesn’t bounce back the way it used to. Having ended up in a heap on the ground twice, I have concluded this body doesn’t bounce at all – Ha!

Shame On Me

I am really ashamed of myself! When I first had the idea of writing this blog, I seemed to have a million thoughts of what to write about; lots of events on the road to 60 and beyond. Well lately, it seems that my brain has had a short circuit…brain cramps…brain dead! I am going through the worse case of writer’s block I’ve ever had in my life!

I know hope this is just a temporary thing. Maybe it’s the weather! Once Spring finally springs, maybe ideas will flow like the sap in the Maple trees.

Please don’t give up on me…I shall return!

Fess Up!

With Valentine's Day just around the corner, I thought it might be fun to trip down memory lane and share your very first kiss.

It's funny but I remember mine clearly! It was my ninth birthday, and my Grandmother had a party for me at her house, in fact it was the old mill house that I was born in. It had several out buildings, including an outhouse. There were seven of my school friends and myself and we were playing hide and seek. I thought no one would find me in the outhouse, so that's where I hid! Well, so much for that idea...my friend, Jeffrey found me and before I could run away, he planted a smooch...and then he ran away!

Okay, time to fess up...let's hear about your first kiss.

Lists

I have always considered myself to be very organized. It’s that dreaded Virgo neat freak thing! I like a place for everything and everything in its place. However, as I’ve grown older, I have more trouble remembering where that place might be. I used to have such a keen memory for everything, I never had to make a ‘to do’ list or write down what I needed at the grocery store.

It is troubling to me that over the past year, I have become the queen of the Post It Note. I find that if I don’t write things down they seem to evaporate from my brain, and I don’t like that feeling. When I worked in the corporate world, I always made lists; there were always staff meetings, client meetings, deadlines, etc. but this is not the same. My daily, mundane life should not require a sticky note! Okay, maybe I am exaggerating; I haven’t forgotten to take out the trash or walk the dog or feed the cats…yet! But what if I do?

The other night I dreamed that my entire house was wallpapered in yellow Post Its, with endless lists of things to remember. When I told my friend, Marcie she said that it’s perfectly normal to forget things. I hope she keeps that in mind because I forgot her birthday last week. She says that it’s part of the aging process, nothing to worry about. Let’s hope she’s right.

Is your memory as good as it used to be? Do you have to write things down? Do you want to go in half on a case of Post It Notes?

Frumpanista

Since the job market has forced me to become semi-retired, I have noticed a new trend in clothing. Well, not everybody’s clothing, just mine. From years of wearing business suits and dresses, I have morphed into sweatshirts and comfy pants. I just happened to glance in the bathroom mirror…Holy Moly! Not a pretty sight!

Don’t get me wrong, I really do take a lot of pride in how I look but without a definite schedule, I seem to have gotten, umm, let’s just say 'too comfortable' on the days I don’t have to be somewhere in particular.

Back in the days before pantyhose, I wouldn’t be caught dead without a girdle and nylons. I never burned my bra but I cremated my girdle many years ago! Fear not, however, you won’t catch me in Walmart in my jammy bottoms or with my midriff oozing over the top of hip hugging jeans!

I know I’m not alone in my ‘casual attire’, so what do you like to wear when you're hanging around the house?

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

First let me say HAPPY NEW YEAR to all of you that have been kind enough to follow my blog. I have been a bit remiss in my posts but I will do my best to improve in 2010.

Just before Christmas, I was delighted to find a package on my doorstep from a friend of mine that I haven’t seen since I moved. I seldom get presents in the mail so I was quite excited. When I opened the outside box, I found a smaller box, wrapped in lovely Christmas paper and tied with a red bow. Hmm…should I open it or set it under the tree? Well, I set it under the tree while I deliberated and went about my work.

When I was a child, opening of Christmas presents was so regimented, that now I just wanted to rebel and open the darn package. Later in the day, after all my work was up to date, I caved in, made a cup of tea, grabbed the package and headed for the den.

I studied the paper…so festive, I fingered the bow…tied perfectly, I shook it…gently. Okay! Enough! I confess I’m a five year old in a 62 year old body! I slid my finger under the tape…pop! then the other side. I shook the box again…nothing rattled. Now the paper was off, but the box yielded no clues…next I lifted the lid to find tissue paper…lots and lots of tissue paper!

Finally I felt something through the tissue, I ran my hand around it, trying to guess what it could be. It was on the heavy side, it felt almost like the outline of a frame. I had teased myself long enough and ripped the paper off. I was right! It was a lovely silver picture frame, with intricate silver vines woven around the edges.

It would have been so much more delightful, if it hadn’t been what I had given her last year, for her birthday!

Have you ever given or received a re-gifted present?

My friend does not own a computer so I know pray she will not read this.

What's In A Name?

My morning usually starts off with a cup of tea and reading the online edition of the newspaper. I never have time to read the entire paper but I always read the obituaries. The other morning I noticed that a Mr. Pitz had passed on, I didn’t know him but I continued to read…he was survived by his wife of 55 years...her name was Olive. Please believe me, I mean absolutely no disrespect…but for the past 55 years, this woman has been known as Olive Pitz.

This got me thinking about other people I have known with ‘unusual’ combinations of names. In England I went to school with an Olive Green, and an Anne Teek. In high school I knew an Ann Franscisco.

As a teenager, I had a summer job at a bank; we had a customer named Izadore Bell (is a door bell), sometimes keeping a straight face wasn’t easy!

Another woman I knew was called Hope Lewis, she married Larry Hope and became Hope Hope. I wonder if she thought about that before she said, “I do.”

A good friend of mine used to date Jim Bagg, and I still like to tease her about that! For a while I worked with Mr. Fish…his mother’s name was Iona. Iona Fish, I dare you to say that without a smile!

In elementary school, my son had a teacher called Mr. Case, his first name was Justin. Justin Case…what were his parents thinking?

I’m sure I’m forgetting a few others, I probably will remember them as I fall asleep tonight!

Have you come across some odd name combinations?

Christmas Past

The other day, as I sorted through Christmas decorations, I found myself tripping down memory lane and thinking back to when my Dad was in the RAF and no matter where he was stationed, we as a family, always went home at Christmas time. When I say home, I really mean my Grandparent’s house in Cornwall.

Nan and Gramps lived in an old mill house, in the village of Tregonissey just outside St. Austell. It was an old stone house with no central heat, no running water and no indoor plumbing.

Even after all these years, I still have vivid memories of Christmas when my Grandfather would go in search of the perfect Holly tree. I never knew where he found it but he somehow managed to bring one home, much to everyone’s delight. He would then set it up in the front room and I, along with my Mom and Dad, would help decorate it. When it was completed we would light the little candles for a few minutes. Yes, you read it right…real, live candles on a real, live tree! Looking back that may have not been the smartest thing to do but that’s what people did back then, and nobody burned the house down…amazing!

Back in Christmas BC (before computers), gifts were simple and delightful. A game of Snakes and Ladders, a book, a rag doll; all gifts were appreciated, not matter how small. Most presents were hung on the tree and nothing was touched until after Christmas dinner was finished and dishes were done. Finally everyone gathered in front of the fireplace and a ‘Santa’ was selected. Presents were open one at a time, and displayed for everyone to admire. It always seemed like there were a lot of presents but actually there weren't, it just took so long to open them! Waiting for your turn could be agonizing when you were only 5 or 6 years old.

In the early evening, the oil lamps were lit and all gathered at the table for Christmas pudding. I HATED Christmas pudding! My only incentive to eat it, besides my Mom giving me her famous ‘mother look’, was the hope of finding the sixpence, wrapped in wax paper and hidden somewhere in the pudding.

While the ladies cleaned up, Gramp would crank up the old gramophone and slowly Christmas Carols would fill the room. Before I knew it, Mom would remind me that it was bedtime and because I knew there was no point in presenting the ‘but it’s Christmas argument’, said my goodnights, collected my hugs and climbed the long stairway. The only warmth provided was from an antique space heater and a huge, red hot water bottle. I always tried to fall asleep fast, before I froze to death!

What fond childhood memories of Christmas do you have?