Not Another Tale Of Neglect

I usually write posts in longhand first, then continuously revise until satisfied. I’m rarely satisfied. Writing with a sprained left thumb has been a challenge. I’m a lefty.

It has taken me a long time to admit, that I could have sleep apnea. My wife has chided me for years to get checked out. The preliminary steps were made last Friday.

I visited a sleep clinic for evaluation and treatment. Of course, when it comes to doctors and clinics, sometimes one thing leads to another. First, this week, I have to have upper GI X-Rays done.

After approvals from insurance, Medicare, and those concerned, then I will have a sleep study done. Which involves having various electronic sensors hooked up, to be monitored as I sleep.

The sleep clinic’s, sleep study bedrooms, were just like those at a hotel, claimed the staff. I’m doing this out of concern for my health. Although, I have doubts as to how much quality sleep, I will get in a strange bed, in an unfamiliar location, hooked up to dozens of monitors.

Suburban Soliloquy

This neighborhood was planned to be where we’d live out our retirement years. It has not been easy this past month, because of shenanigans by one bad neighbor. Latest thing she has done is to place security cameras–one on the front of her house, two by her driveway gate. All are pointed at my house and property. She was the instigator, and in true narcissistic form, blames me.

itinerantneerdowell

Church bells rang

for the faithful

the indifferent

Decision-makers

thankful for the

easily led–lied

only, when necessary

Driveway rust buckets

rusted in place

among cute bungalows

split-levels with

butcher block countertops

silk flower gardens

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How Could This Have Happened?

This recounted debacle from two years ago, reminded me it was time for my semi-annual eye exam.

itinerantneerdowell

The butterflies in my stomach told me this wasn’t going to end well.

They were not at their usual resting place–secured on my ears, and the bridge of my nose.

Gusty winds toyed with my straw hat all morning long; slammed shut the doors on my barn.

Grass mowing, on an otherwise beautiful day, culminated with a mischievous gust of wind. My favorite “Farmer Brown” straw hat went airborne–right into muddy water.

I seethed with rage, for what good it did. How was I so unlucky?

Stagnant water and mud–just what I didn’t want, caked on my favorite chapeau.

With a deft move, I lunged for the hat. Shook off the water and mud. Almost lost my balance–which didn’t help to sooth my shattered nerves.

My glasses must have taken flight–sometime during the melee.  They were found, lying in the grass along the roadway, shattered beyond repair.

The only good…

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To My Florida Friends

While the meteorologists do their thing–with Hurricane Dorian warnings every ten minutes, I wish you all the best.

Sometimes we grow weary of hearing the same warnings repeated over and over.  Seeing reporters attempt to stand in full hurricane rain and fury, makes me question their sanity.

Hurricanes and tropical weather are not new things for most of us along the Gulf and Atlantic coastlines. Go to your safe places.

I may see some of the evacuees in NW Florida this weekend and early next week. You are all welcome. We’ve been through this before.

Everyone have a safe and happy Labor Day weekend!

After the Dust Settled

After some detective work in the neighborhood, I discovered how lowdown and dirty my neighbor’s little charade was.

She claimed, her plumber told her, the evidence was clear. I’d broken water pipes in her yard when I turned the front corner with my riding lawnmower.

When my scheming neighbor talks, in what is for her, normal conversation, you can’t get a word in edgewise. I tried to explain, “If you feel I’ve violated the law, why not call the police?”

Faster than a politician, she sidestepped the issue.  The plumber’s account of the incident was quite different.  She unwisely bragged about getting someone else–my wife and I–to pay for repairs and excessive water usage.

The plumber was livid.  He’d not implicated me in the slightest. Fat chance of him ever working for my scheming neighbor in the future.  The leak was due to previous shoddy workmanship by another plumber, when a sprinkler system was installed. He further stated, there was another neighbor, with the same problem, from the same inept plumber.

You can’t win an argument when someone is hellbent on deviancy.  I’m sure that if I’d called the Sheriff initially, Ms. X from next door, would have placed all blame on the second plumber.  “Well, I don’t know.  It’s not my fault.  That was what my plumber told me.”

I penned a letter to Ms. X, sent it through regular mail.  I expressed disappointment with her behavior–which had slanderous implications.

My wife read the letter and advised me to tone down the rhetoric in some areas.  “Lambast her, but  don’t besmirch her character,”  “What character?”  I answered.

The gist of the letter, we didn’t bother others in the neighborhood, and, in turn, didn’t expect to be bothered.  We paid our own way and expected others to do likewise.

There’d been other issues with Ms. X in the past.  None of them this blatant.  Of course she reiterated all past episodes, chapter and verse.  Even though those issues were thought to have been laid to rest.

Will there ever be an apology–as requested?  I wish I could say I was optimistic, but, I can’t.  My wife and I just want to be left alone.

 

It Seemed Longer

Don’t know what it was about this past week. On Tuesday, while attempting to mow the front lawn, one of my neighbors chewed me out and claimed I’d damaged her water line.

No proof was offered and I had no knowledge of any such infraction. I was as polite as I could possibly be under the circumstances. She demanded I pay for repairs and excessive water usage. Despite my denial, she continued on.

That same afternoon, my phone service went kaput. It was out until today–Friday around noon. No internet for four days. I wondered for a time, if my crabby neighbor had something to do with it?

It couldn’t have been related, but a visit to a popular Italian-themed, casual dining restaurant yesterday, was a disaster. My piadinas were overcooked. Italian doughnuts for dessert were usually fluffy and light. Yesterday, they were heavy, and still doughy in the middle. Two groups of customers in our waiter’s section walked out in disgust.

Being without internet for four days wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. It was a reminder of how dependent we are on computers and on the web.

Where Have You Been?

I’ve been away from home for two weeks, that’s where. Visited the state of Tennessee for two days, the rest of the time in Illinois.

Visited friends and family. Always enjoy visiting the Great Smoky Mountains.

There are many retail outlets across the country offering classic cars for sale. Not all at reasonable prices. Nevertheless, one such outlet, is Country Classic Cars, near old Hwy 66 and Staunton, Illinois.

I’ve passed by this place many times without stopping to look. This time, my brother, my nephew, great-nephew and I, took time to visit for a couple of hours.

There were several vehicles of interest. Some offered nothing. Especially, the vintage Cadillac Eldorado car body, mounted atop a four-wheel drive truck chassis. All I could ask, was why?

A ’54 Ford Crestline sedan, and a ’67 Ford Custom sedan, reminded my brother and I of our parent’s cars during childhood. There were “wars” over who rode “shotgun”–which was rare, because mom and pop usually occupied the front seat.   Losers sat between two brothers in the back seat.  Mom and dad intervened, if the struggle went too far astray.

The rest of the trip was taken up with carrying a friend, and daughter back-and-forth to the hospital on two different days. One for a routine cat scan, the other for elective surgery.

As I age, 765 mile trips each way, to our former home territory, become more difficult. Health may not allow this in the future? Changes may have to be made?

Wouldn’t it have been nice to have the vintage ’57 Ford pickup, just to tinker with, and drive around the neighborhood?  Like myself, it seemed to be in good shape for its age.