TBT Reprints from CJ's Whine and Cheeze

    In 2003, Ma had a stroke. Dad was her full time caregiver until he he had a car accident that totaled the car. So in 2006, I became their chauffeur among other jobs.

At the time, to deal with the stress of running two households and working, I kept a blog entitled CJ's Whine and Cheeze. Egged on by some friends who enjoyed the first read through, you'll see your part when it comes by.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Herself's Fanabala*

Ma had been telling me about the latest shopping trip. A friend of Dad’s had taken them in the middle of a Nor’easter to Revere. I implored the heavens as I imagined the car careening around Revere Beach Boulevard in the snow with the waves crashing over the sea wall. I thought the expedition was a pretty dumbass idea, but as I long as I didn’t have to make the trip no skin off my nose. Ma wasn’t happy about going all the way to Revere. It was a long trip for her.

In the next breath, she excitedly told me that Roche Bros. opened up a “beautiful new store” in Westboro and after coming home from Revere they went there. Now, I’m not really sure if this trip was done all in one day. As I mentioned, this might have been one of the game show conversations, To Tell the Truth or The Price is Right. The stores are 100 miles away from each other. Ma gushed about the store and the manager’s specials.

I was just getting my jacket on when she said, “Will you be able to come back this week?”

My radar kicked in. “Not this week, why?”

“Well, paper towels are on sale for $9.99 and the Carapelli olive oil is a good price for the gallon. I have some paper towels downstairs, but we’re running out of oil.”

“If you have paper towels, why do you need more?”

“I have to lay stores in for winter!”

“What are you ants?”

“Well, I can’t get to the stores and if the weather turns bad...” She let out an ominous sigh.

“Ma, if the weather turns bad and you’re really desperate for items, I can put an order in with Peapod and have it delivered.” I whispered it several more times in the hope it would become a subliminal message.

“Oh no! Those prices are too high! I can’t afford to shop like that.”

Well, if you stopped sending money to Nostradumbass and the phony lotteries, you’d have enough money to shop Peapod. I bit back the thought. “Well, you wouldn’t do your whole shopping there, just what you needed to get through the storm.”

Her little trolley wasn’t about to be sidetracked. “Can you pick up the paper towels and the oil?”

“But, you went to two stores. Why didn’t you buy those things there?”

“Because I could get them cheaper and save money.”

Yeah, you’d save money. Gas just hit $3.00 a gallon. This new store is a half an hour away from my house and then another half hour from Ma’s. I couldn’t see the savings.

“You don’t have to get them this week,” she said brightly. “The sale will run for two weeks.”

“I’ll see what I can do” and I ran out the door.

“Make sure you get the 15 roll Bounty, because those big rolls don’t fit on the holder,” she shouted after me as I burned rubber pulling out of the driveway.

When Himself came home, I whined about the problem.

“Price Chopper has the paper towels for the same price," he said calmly. Price Chopper is where Himself does our shopping.

“And the olive oil? It’s not the Phillipo Berrio that she usually buys. Some other brand that begins with a C.”

“I know the one.”

Himself went shopping, and picked up the items for Ma. The price tags were removed and on the way to school, Himself dropped the items off. Mission accomplished.

It was pouring buckets the day Himself dropped the items off. I called Ma to let her know the paper towels and olive oil were on the front stoop. She was less than happy.

“What’s the matter? I asked.

“You didn’t get these from Market Basket,” she fumed.

Busted by the Price Chopper bags. “Market Basket? I thought you told me they were on sale at the new Roche Bros.”

“No, I told you Market Basket.”

The game shows again. The items could have been on sale on the moon and I still wouldn’t have had Himself go to Market Basket to get two, lousy items. Look at the map of the Toonerville Trolley essay and you’ll understand.

“You didn’t get these!” she scolded.

“No, Himself went.”

“But I didn’t want them from Price Chopper.”

Now, I attended parochial school and I’ve lied to professionals, the nuns. I have no problem whatsoever lying to Ma. “What the hell difference does it matter what store they came from? They were the same price as what you saw in the flyer,” I said smoothly. I had no clue if they were the same price or not, and didn’t give a horse’s patoot if they were more. It would still be cheaper than driving around the countryside for two items.

“But I didn’t want him to go shopping.”

“Well, shopping ain’t my monkey so he picked them up for the same price at Price Chopper when he went to do our shopping.

“You shouldn’t have made him go.”

“I can't make him do anything he doesn’t want to,” I laughed.

“But I didn’t want HIM to go! Well, I can see I can’t ask you to do anything for me anymore.” I could see her raise her wrist to her forehead and strike a martyred pose.

Ah, the crux of the problem. Remember OPD is all about control.

“Fa nabala. Well, if you don’t want the paper towels or the olive oil. Throw them away. Or send Dad to the Senior Center with them. I’m sure one of the ladies would be more than happy to have those items.” My comment and the tone it was delivered was reminiscent of the starving children in China speech.

“No, I’ll use them.”

I thought so.

*The title comes from an Italian expression (in the dialect my parents speak). It’s a term used in exasperation such as dropping a pencil on the floor (well, I say $%#@%), and means “darn” or “for heaven’s sakes”. It literary means “Go to Naples” and can also mean "Go to Hell". I was just tickled with the fact that it was a pun on “fable.” I just slay me.

Adventures of the Poor, Little Boob

 

I got a call that there had been a cancellation and would I like that appointment earlier in the month? I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille.

After the scan, I had to wait for the on-site radiologist to review it. She said calcification was common in older women. She said if I were younger, she would have me wait 6 months for another scan. She said the calcifications looked suspicious to her. She recommended a biopsy to be sure nothing was really wrong.

T Stands for Cemetery Visit

 

We had been sick off and on during April and May so I had missed visiting the folks at Easter and Mother's Day.

Their 83rd wedding anniversary would be on July 4th. I told Himself I never heard the end of it from Ma if I missed this date. So on July 2nd, we headed out to the Massachusetts Veterans Memorial Cemetery in Agawam, Massachusetts.

We were in the middle of a heatwave with high temperatures and high humidity. Like a jaguar which lives in the rainforest, I don't mind this kind of weather. However, it was too hot for Himself to be sitting in the car even with the AC running. 

There was also a Committal Ceremony going on when we arrived. The color guard and riflemen were going into the chapel to present the bereaved with the flag and the cartridges from the gun salute. So I didn't want to stay too long as it looked like Dad's area of the cemetery was going to have a new neighbor. 

Usually on the ride home, we stop at Cracker Barrel for breakfast or brunch, but I didn't feel like going there. Instead, I found a diner in Sturbridge called The Little Rest Stop. It was in a cozy, little house and they put on a substantial breakfast. I had scrambled eggs, home fries, and raisin bread toast along with a cup of tea. The waitress was a little too perky, but the service was good.

As a special for the Fourth of July, the restaurant was also offering fried dough. So we each ordered that, too.

I didn't expect the fried dough to be the size of dinner plates! I was expecting the fried dough to be about the size of your hand. A normal size like Ma made. I had a small taste of the fried dough (delicious) and took the rest home.

A cool thing happened when we got home. The new door lock recognized my phone so automatically unlocked the door! The only problem was the time from phone recognition to opening the door was only 30 seconds. I'm not that quick to make it from the car to the front door in the amount of time. So the door locked automatically again and I had to use my thumb or personal code to get in.  Still, it's pretty cool. I've since changed the time to 2 minutes.

Drop by hosts, Bleubeard and Elizabeth's blog to find out what the rest of the T Stands For gang is up to. If you want to play, include in your Tuesday post a beverage or container for a beverage. Don't forget to link your blog to Bleubeard and Elizabeth's page.

Where Did The Dumb Trail Lead?

 Friday last, I was asked "What's a dumb trail?" A dumb trail is usually a touristy thing to do. It usually entails a long ride to get there and then the emotion of "this is it?" It's the feeling you get when you go to see the world's largest ball of string. The term was coined by Teague and her Brother after the first time they felt the "this is it?" emotion.

With the Young One visiting this week, I wanted to do a few things that would get us out of the house. I searched around. I found something fun that I thought would be meaningful to her., but I warned her it was a Dumb Trail. She said she was game as it sounded intriguing.

With Himself chauffeuring, we took a drive, almost an hour because of afternoon traffic, to Lincoln, Massachusetts. We were close to the historical towns of Lexington and Concord. Did we visit Minuteman National Historical Park to see Concord's North Bridge, the "shot heard 'round the world" bridge? No. Did we visit Orchard House, the home of Louisa May Alcott where she wrote her novel Little Women? No. Did we go see the Bauhaus the home designed by architect, Walter Gropius? Nope.

Where did we end up? We drove down the Old Sudbury Road in Lincoln to a field. If you drive too fast down this country road, you will completely blow by:

Ponyhenge

According to articles I read, no one knows how or who started Ponyhenge. Just in this field, rocking horses of every shape and size started appearing. The ponies are usually arranged in the classic circular formation as Stonehenge in England. Sometimes the ponies are arranged as if they are racing as they were on one Kentucky Derby Day. One year, the ponies were arranged in orderly rows for the first day of school.

I thought the Young One would enjoy seeing the rocking horses. When she was 3 years old, Santa brought her a rocking horse for Christmas. He was dun colored with a blue "saddle blanket" The plastic blanket had a cross-hatch, diamond pattern. She named her horse, Diamond.

As we were crossing the road, I said to her, "Wouldn't it be cool if Diamond was here?"

and then she spotted him right out front!

He was a little faded from being out in the elements, missing the dowel to hold on while rocking, but it was him.

We wandered through the henge admiring all the beloved steeds.

Some wooden

some rusted and some had names like Poppy

This beauty was painted in the style of van Gogh's Starry Night

Thunder, eternally races across the plains

The Blaze Twins. The horse on the left was missing his right, rear leg

Another diamond, saddle blanket. I named this one Black Diamond

Some ponies had yarn manes

some were plush. A lot must have newly joined the herd as they barely looked touched  by the weather.

It took us longer to get there and to drive home than the amount of time we spent wandering around. The Young One said it was a wonderful, whimsical outing.

God-steed, Diamond

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Pansies and the Vines Himself forgot the name of

Earlier in the week the Sunflower bloomed

It didn't take long for the Goldfinches to start nibbling on the petals

Someone left us a message in a clot of dirt.

How does your garden grow?

Happy, Little, Time Waster

 

No Drawing Needed! Paint a Perfect Watercolor Cat Using Just Your Thumb Print 🐈‍⬛✨

The Friday Five Good Things

 Five good things that happened this week.

1. The Young One arrived at the airport on time no delays.

2. The four of us having dinner at the same time under the same roof.

3.  The girlies and I were abruptly woken up by the basement smoke detector going off. The alarm was silenced and it didn't go off again. Happy Birthday, Young One! A bit of fresh air after checking nothing was wrong silenced it. It went off again in the evening. We called the Fire Department. The smoke detector on the main floor never sounded. They checked  and found nothing suspicious. They thought the smoke detector going off might have been caused by the humidity.

4.  Spent a fun afternoon at WAM with the Young One.

5. The Young One and I spent a nostalgic afternoon on a dumb trail

How was your week?