bartering on the corner....

My crazy neighbor with the eyes that roll around in different directions trades zuchini for ice cream from the ice cream man.

He talks so loud that I can hear him from my porch while he is doing this.

I find this delightful...

jb

Olive Oyl

A while ago I posted a blog about memories and how they build upon each other.
I just returned from a camping trip to a place I have been to several times. This time I made the trip with new friends. The memories of trips gone by were running through my head as I was making new memories.
One of the things I always do there is go antiquing at the local towns that are nearby. Same stores every time. It's a ritual.
This trip was no different. I grabbed one of my friends and off we went.
Some years ago, I purchased a "Wimpy" doll in one of the antique stores. He has been with me every since. I was telling my friend this and mentioned I have always been on the look out for the Popeye doll to go with Wimpy. My friend says "that would be cool to find Olive Oyl." Yeah, it would I reply.
We are walking around in the very store I found Wimpy. Looking, Looking, Looking. Trying on crazy glasses, reminising when we see something we remember from our childhood. Laughing at everything. Then my friend says "oh my gawd!" I look at what he is referring to and there she is........Olive Oyl! Right there on the shelf. We are a little freaked about this. I grab her and immedietely hug her. We are speechless. I buy her immedietely. The old lady wraps her in tissue paper which I find very fitting. I am so happy......and just slightly disturbed.
We wander through stores and every stop we take, something quite random happens. We are having a blast but there is something very twighlight zone going on.
We find full body skeletons made from Pink Milk jugs in the coffee store bathroom and we see a picture of Jesus being kissed by a man on the cheek. My friend says out loud.."hmm, didn't know Jesus was gay" Upon asking the store owner who the guy kissing Jesus is, he looks me dead on and says "don't you know your bible?" This is a topic he does not want me to start on. We find out it is Judas kissing Jesus and this print is one you will "only find here". One of a kind. No shit. Never seen it before in my life.
The outing ends in a store called "Classy Touch" which was just screaming to us...COME IN, COME IN.
The most bizzarre items. Beyond tacky,beyond garish. Angels so ugly we want to run, but we are mesmerized by their fiber optic moving wings! Dolls so out of proportion we are just stunned and by now a little scared. We are starting to feel weird. The final item we pick up is an octopus wine bottle holder, with a face that only a deranged axe murderer could love. This scares us so bad we know we have to get out while we are still alive. At that very moment,in the dead silent store, banjo music starts playing. Out of nowhere!! "Oh, Susannah". The shop owner starts whistling along and I am about to pee my pants. We are the only ones in the store and this is just too much. We knew we had to get out. I pray I can say Thanks to the guy without falling down laughing. I manage to do just this.
Once free on the sidewalk it was like "What the....?? Did that really happen? Our journey must end here. We know this. We can't take any more.
We look one more time at the sign store.."Classy Touch"
We can only reply to this by pushing the bullshit button we found in one of the stores. When pushed, it blurts out "that's not just bullshit, that's horseshit".
We laugh so hard we almost die.
We return to camp and try to tell our adventure to the others. It does not translate well.
It was the best part of my trip. The next time I am at these stores some year or two from now, I will remember our outing, because after all, memories really do build upon each other and this new memory is a keeper.
Maybe next time I will find Bluto.....
jb

An hour with a friend.......

I write this blog entry not out of disrespect for my friend but for myself really. Words always help me process and this is where my words go.. my blog.
Today, I visited my friend at a hospice home. Two weeks ago she stood before me at work preparing to leave for Italy. The trip of her life. She looked frail, but still pretty good. The trip of her life was cut short. Her pain became too much to manage and they had to bring her home early. She now resides in a lovely hospice home. It is not her home, which is where she wants to be.
I was not prepared for the woman I saw today. She must have lost 20 pounds in two weeks. Her hair a matted mess and only a sheet around her frail body.
"Hey,Jo,Jo!" I didn't know what to do or say. Another friend there sensing this, guided me to a chair on the other side of the bed. "Hold my hand" she says to me. And I do. I hold her hand and begin what I'm sure will be my own personal final hour with her. She is in immense pain and is very drugged up. She drifts in and out of conversation. Each time she wakes back up, she continues the conversation as if she hadn't really drifted off. Never missing a beat.
She asks me to brush her hair. I do. She asks me if she looks pretty. I say, "you are gorgeous". She says "Thanks, jo, jo."
For the next hour we talk. I hold her hand and give her juice from a straw. Family wanders in and wanders out.
For the first time since I"ve known my friend, she is completely vulnerable. There wasn't the usual "it's going to be ok" We both know it won't be. I can't say her sense of humor was intact, but her spirit was. I found great comfort in being there with her.
She commmented on the walls. "They are moving in and out jo,jo. I can't stand the walls moving like that." The medication is taking over. She drifts out again, then back in. "The Italian men were gorgous jo, jo. And the wine.." drifts out again, then back in. "The wine was so good. Even the cheap table wine." She makes me laugh.
She is overwhelmed. She wants to be home. She is scared.
There was such a sweetness to her. Everything felt calm and peaceful. I did not cry while I was there. I just held her hand. The tears came later.
It was time for me to go. She was drifting out and not coming back in so quickly. I kissed her on the forehead and told her I loved her. She said "I love you, jo, jo". I knew it would be the last time I heard her say that. I kissed her again and left.
I can't get her image out of my mind. This once vibrant, beautiful, full of life woman is now frail,childlike and dying. She is still just as beautiful. Her spirit is so strong it is like a wall of comfort around me.
My hope for her is the angels make her strong enough to get home. This is everyone's goal. She wants to be home when she dies.
I feel so lucky I could be there with her today. This woman has done so much for me personally and today all I could do is brush her hair, give her juice through a straw and hold her hand. It dosn't seem to even out.
I am trying not to be angry that she is dying. It isn't fair and everyone knows that. Nothing she has done has ever been in vain and she has touched my life in a way no other human has. For that I am grateful.
I only wish her calmness in her final days. May she take comfort in her family and finally allow others to do for her what she has done for us. And most importantly, may she make it home just one more time. May she find her way to the "Santa Monica bungelow" she calls her home, (even though it sits in Lake Oswego.) And may she let go and finally be at peace.
I will miss you my friend........
jb

You make a living out of this??

What is it with Contractors? They just never show up. I hired someone to do one small job. Lay some sod in a small area in my front yard. It took him weeks and he finally showed up and leveled the area and layed the dirt. He was to come back the next week and put the sod down. 3 weeks later... He calls on 4th of July and says everyone is out of sod. He will try to get here this week.
This man came highly recommended and I have seen his landscaping work. He does excellent work.... for other people.
I had to hire someone as my son who claims he would come help me do it, never did.
If I had a truck to haul the dirt and sod, I would do it myself. But I don't. I must rely on others and I must say I am less than impressed by them all.
My only hope is this guy charges me about 1/2 of what he would have had he showed up on time.
Good help is appearantly a thing of the past.....If anyone asks me if I know a good yard guy, I will have the answer....NO.
jb