When Pat comes down to visit me, I take advantage and visit some of my favorite local restaurants.
I like to dine out but not alone. Pat doesn't mind dining alone. I feel uncomfortable though dining by myself. I feel like I'm one person taking up a whole table and the servers are anxious to get me out of there to get a larger group.
Pat also has his favorite restaurants when he visits. One of them is Zava Cafe in Milton. This short video was an interchange we had with our server. Usually I ask our server to take a picture of me with who ever I'm dining with. This time I asked her to take a short video. I'm glad I did because we had this spontaneous reaction when she asked Pat where he was from. Check it out.
By the way, I'm going to post more of these short videos of me and Pat. I take them and yet I don't post most of them. That's dumb Ron. So be prepared. Pat is good company and I do so enjoy his visits. I am looking forward to the day when he is a permanent resident of the United States. That's the goal, he wants to be a U.S. citizen. We're working on it. Still waiting for his green card approval. Could take another year.
What a beautiful fall Sunday morning I woke up to today.
After my walk this morning, I stopped up at my fish pond and encountered an unexpected visitor to my pond, a squirrel. That's the first squirrel I've seen on my property since I moved to Delaware these twenty years ago. Where we lived in Pennsylvania, Bill and I had plenty of squirrels. As my friend Spo would say "heaps of squirrels." In fact, we had too many squirrels in Pennsylvania. That was one thing I didn't miss when we moved to Delaware, the squirrels digging up my tulip bulbs. Vandalizing my bird feeder. Now I don't mind. I'm not planting any more tulips nor do I have a bird feeder out. The squirrel obviously has taken up residence from all the trees that I planted on this formerly blank almost one acre of land that is Lot 37 in my development.
Pat has been gone a day now and I'm getting back into my former routine. I saw a movie last night at the Flynn Cinema in my basement alone. The past two weeks I had the pleasure of watching movies with Pat by my side in our own private movie theater. Seventy-seven inch, 4K, Surround Sound movie theater. Something I've always wanted and now I have in my twilight years. Such a pleasure to be immersed in a movie with someone you love, cuddled together. We can talk outlaid, pause the movie to go to the bathroom or a snacks, and don't have to be disturbed by anybody else. Also no parking or outrageous movie fees and snack concession prices. I've always been a movie fan but not of all the aggravation and expense of seeing a movie in a theater these days.
When Pat and I visit or take a trip out systems (bowels) get out of whack. Probably an "old man" thing but one of the downsides of getting together. Thankfully we're both back to being "regular" again. That's a relief.
Something interesting happened last night. The whole time Pat was here that burned out Christmas light was on. That was Bill visiting us. Last night it was off. I really felt alone. Not only was Pat gone from Casa-Tipton Kelly but Bill wasn't here. He does that. He will come by for a week or two and go away for weeks at a time. I wonder where he goes. I hear in the Afterlife our souls still go to school or maybe he's visiting another relative. One thing is for sure, I'll know eventually when I pass over.
Now I'm looking forward to the next two weeks of the final campaigning for the mid term elections. I am so hoping for a complete Republican wipeout so my country can return to sanity and start the steps to regain respect in the world.
Also coming up is my birthday in two weeks. I can't believe I'm only fifteen years away from the century mark. There is absolutely no way I want to be one hundred years old! Oh my God! Can you imagine? Look at me now, hobbling around like an old man which actually I am an old man. The fifteen years scares me because I know how fast that happens. The last fifteen years are a blur. So much has happened. I met Pat thirteen years ago but it feels like I've only known him for about five years. We're still waiting to hear from the U.S. State Department about Pat's authorization for his green card. Nothing yet. Hopefully this year there is some movement so we can get Pat down here in the states and start that procedure to add him to my insurance as my spouse and get his American citizenship. Pat likes Trump so that shouldn't be a problem. Oh, you didn't know Pat likes Trump? We don't talk about it. Perhaps eventually I will be able to make him see the error of his ways but I'm not going to let a little thing like that stand in between us and our relationship. I love that goofy little guy from Canada.
Pats back at his home in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada now as I type this blog entry.
He left early this morning (3:30 AM) for the eleven hour trip back to his home. I couldn't sleep so I saw him off as he drove away into the darkness of the night to his northern destination.
Last night we had our last restaurant foray during this visit. We time our arrival at Tequila Real in Milton perfectly. We got in just in time before the locals descended upon the restaurant with their families and kids.
My two favorite Mexican restaurants are Sol Azteca in Georgetown and Tequila Real in Milton. Two Mexican restaurants with totally different clientele. Sol Azteca is located in Georgetown, Delaware. Many Mexicans and others of Central American countries live in and around Georgetown. The diners in Sol Azteca are 90% Hispanic. The restaurant plays music you can hear and Pat and I can have a conversation without shouting at each other.
The other Mexican Restaurant is located in Milton where I live. In this Mexican restaurant the diners are 90% or more the locals in Milton which is all white Caucasian. They are loud. And when I say loud, I mean LOUD. Pat and I have to shout to each other because our fellow diners are so loud. Most are local families who know each other. And they bring their kids who are usually screamers. I try to avoid this restaurant during dinner hours and only have lunch there but since last night was Pat's last night, I didn't want us to drive all the way to Georgetown with is about sixteen miles away. Pat wanted to go to bed early so he could get an early start. So we braved the local loudmouths and ate at Tequila Real last night. Of course the food was fabulous and very reasonably priced. The Rehoboth Beach restaurants are very expensive. Partly due to high rents because Rehoboth Beach is a beach resort and also because of the high hourly wage paid restaurants workers. I like some of the Rehoboth restaurants but can only afford to eat there when I take advantage of their off season specials. Both my favorite Mexican restaurants feature my favorite frozen lime Margaritas which I love so much. They look different but are so delicious.
Pat may come down again at Christmas. I hope so. But it is expensive coming down from Hamilton to Milton. I had more expenses to day getting my house power washed. Just a few days ago I had my lawn fertilized and weed control. That should be it for the season. We're both going to try and save up some money for the next trip. Hopefully this time next year Pat will have his green card and either be down here permanently or making plans to do so. Then we can combine our incomes and make a nice life as a couple living together. That's the goal.
Pat and me at The Summer House restaurant in Rehoboth Beach today
What a wonderful day Pat and I had today!
We started out early taking a load of household hazardous waste materials down to the Delaware Hazardous Waste Disposal facility in Georgetown this morning. This is something I have been wanting to do for years. I had so many garden sprays and such that Bill had collected over the years. I hate using garden insect killers. Also I had three long fluorescent tube lights that were burned out that I could dispose of no other place. I'm glad we got that out of the way. More room in my (our) garage now.
Then on this beautiful fall day we headed back to Rehoboth Beach to enjoy the boardwalk. We decided to take advantage of the off season 50% off hamburger specials at The Summer House restaurant.
Delicious! I also had a happy hour price on a coconut lime martini. Oh I do love a martini. Yum! Then we spent the rest of the afternoon people watching on the boardwalk. I love this time of year. The crowds are gone, no fee parking and restaurant off season specials which Pat and I are taking great advantage of now.
My apologies for the short post but Pat awaits me now at the Flynn Cinema in the basement of our house. We're seeing another double feature tonight. Last night we saw "The Wolfman." Scary!
Pat and I having a left over pizza dinner last night hare at Casa Tipton-Kelly
Wow! Pat's been here a week already.
Last Sunday is when he arrived. He will leave this Friday. As always, his visits are too short.
Oh how I look forward to the day when he can live here full-time. We are such a good match for each other. Even though we're both basically loners in life (we like to live alone), we do like each other's company. It was so ironic that I moved in with Bill when I was 22 years old and lived with him for almost sixty years. Me, the guy who at twelve years old wanted to live alone ended up living with someone for the next sixty years of my life.
The past two and a half years since Bill died I had the opportunity to live alone. This experience might fall under the "be careful what you wish for" because at times I've been very lonely. Actually depressed but I didn't want to admit that to myself. Life with Pat is always an adventure even though to the casual outsider it would probably seem as if we lead uneventful lives.
Well, just briefly this past week we've been eating out a lot. I never eat out alone and I do like to go to good restaurants. However, the restaurants are getting very pricey so I took advantage of the off season specials. The leftover pizza we had last night for dinner was from Touch of Italy 50% off pizza night. Pat and I like to drink red wine with out pizza. We're really not drinkers but red wine with pizza complements each other very well. The glass of red wine I ordered at Touch of Italy was $12 a glass! I think nine dollars a glass of wine is expensive but the wine was so good I ordered another glass. Needless to say the wine cost more than our pizzas. And the pizzas were huge!
Pat got a cheese pizza (he vegan) and I had sweet Italian sausages and arugula on mine. We actually could have split a pizza, they were that huge. Next time.
Yesterday we ventured into Rehoboth Beach, first time I've been in that East Coast tourist magnet trap since early spring. I don't go in season, traffic and people too crazy. We had lunch at our favorite Lori's Cafe. So good! Just perfect weather. Today the weather is light rain. Time to stay in although I did reach out by text to an old friend of mine and his wife for a possible visit to their home. I used to go to night college with "Rich" back in the early Sixties. Three nights a week for four years if you can believe it. I got my associates degree and he continued on to the University Of Pennsylvania Wharton School for his bachelor's degree. GI Bill paid for both of our education. He and his wife retired down here to southern Delaware a few years ago. He got prostate cancer the same time I did (2013) and we've been sharing our experiences since. His hasn't went too well. I have fared better. As a matter of fact, I thought my prostate cancer has returned because of my elevated PSA score but it apparently hasn't. And just this seek I saw my VA doctor (with Pat, I introduced him to my doctor) and my PSA score has actually reduced! That's great news. I still have a lot of trouble walking though. Rich doesn't but he went to renewed treatment and had terrible side effects. The radiation has ruined his urethra (scar tissue) and he can no longer pee regular. I'll write more about this situation in future blog post. This post I'll concentrate on Pat's visit.
Pat's been helping me out around Casa Tipton-Kelly with little handyman jobs.
Pat fixing the loose weatherstripping on my front door
He is such a help. So good. Something bad happened though, he took a glass of wine in his bedroom and accidentally spilled it on the wall to wall carpet. I think we got most of the stain out but I was so angry. It seems every time I have guests in the house and they carry liquids in another room, they spill it. Coffee, wine, soda. I now have a hard house rule, NO LIQUIDS EXCEPT WATER IN CARPETED ROOMS. I never take liquids in my other rooms away from my tile floored kitchen and dining area. Pat felt so bad an it was had for me to stay angry with him. Accidents happen, I understand that. But these people who have to constantly have a cup of coffee (Pat's also a coffee drinker, I am not), soda or wine wandering around my wall to wall carpeted house, waving their hands when they talk.....something is bound to bow to gravity.
Pat's at church now. That's why I'm able to have time to write and post this blog. Which I think I will wrap up now.
Hopefully I can post more before he leaves this Friday and I'm alone again. Depressed and sleeping a lot again. Which actually isn't as bad as it seems when I write this. I fall into a pattern when I'm alone. I feel like I'm just marking time until I can be with Bill again who I know awaits me. By the way, he's visited several times via that burned out Christmas light since Pat's been here. In fact the other night Pat was out there talking to Bill and the light was blinking. He's definitely a believer now. He wasn't expecting that.
Have to go now. Pat just returned from church. We're going to go out for coffee and a sticky bun at the Lewes Coffee Shop, one of Pat's favorite locations.
Pat and I taking advantage of the Wednesday Early Bird Special at Touch Of Italy this afternoon at 4 PM, just as the doors opened.
Pat's here but I've been running myself ragged.
When Pat is here I try to take care of those backed up items that I've put off because I either don't want to do them by myself or can't.
Pat arrived late Sunday afternoon. That was fine. We enjoyed a movie in the Flynn Cinema, my in house 77 inch TV screen and surround sound system in my basement.
Next day was the challenge. We drove to the Christiana Mall just outside Wilmington, which is a 93 mile (one and a half hours) trip north. We were going there to pick up my new iPhone 18. Involved was transferring the data from my new iPhone 18 from my old iPhone 16. Then Pat's older iPhone information had to be transferred to my old iPhone which I was giving to him. Also we had to repair both of our Apple Watches to our new iPhones. All told this took a little over two hours. Then the long trip back to Sussex County downstate.
I was having trouble understanding my Apple CarPlay in my new Hyundai Venue. Next stop then was the Hyundai dealership in Millsboro to see a salesman to have my questions answered. Then off too the new Weiss Markets to by my favorite Progresso Tuscan Soup mix. I buy about two dozen cans each visit. Weiss Food Markets is the only place where I can by the Tuscan Soup which I have almost every day for lunch. I've asked my local supermarket (Food Lion) to stock it.....several times....but the manager just ignores my request. I even gave him the label of the can and told him I've been shopping at that particular supermarket ever since I moved down here to Delaware. He could give a shit. I could tell by the way he looked at me. I even reminded him another time I was in the store and he just looked at me like I stepped off a spaceship from Mars. Ironically Food Lion sent me one of those random surveys about how I like their store and if I can "any concerns." Well, for once I expressed my concerns about my request to stock that soup. You can guess the response I received from Food Lion....nada.
After that I vowed never to complete another online survey again. But I just did again tonight, the VA sent me a survey. I figured I better complete that survey or else the Trump administration will kick me off their system. I can't chance that because that's where I get my meds which never cost more than $15. You won't see me getting a $500 bill for a prescription like my dear friend Spo. That's the main reason I stay with the VA medical system. Speaking of which I had my six month visit with my VA doctor. This time Pat was at my side. I introduced him to my longtime doctor, who is wonderful by the way. That visit went well. This was to review my labs which I took a week earlier. My labs showed I was very healthy and even my PSA score went down. Only one small problem, when they first took my blood pressure, like they always do before I see my doctor, it was 186 over 90. That's the highest it's ever been! But I told the PA that was because I had to pass a picture of Trump, Vance and the VA administer Doug Collins as I rounded the corner to see my doctor.
This has happened every time since Trump's uncle mug shot has returned to all government buildings including the VA Outpatient Clinics. The American president who calls anyone who goes into the service "suckers and losers". Captain Bone Spurs himself who not one member of his family has ever been in the service. Who grandfather in fact immigrated to the United States from Germany to avoid the German draft. Draft dodging is Trump family tradition. And yet so many of my fellow vets still support this draft dodging coward. That and many to her reasons like his recent suggestion that Iran drop a nuclear bomb of the two California cities Los Angeles and San Diego because California didn't vote for him. Yes, that person. But I digress. The PA took my blood pressure again and it was down to my "normal 144 over 72.
After the visit at the VA I decided to take advantage of having Pat with me and we visited one of our favorite Mexican restaurants Sol Azteca in Georgetown, just a bit down the road from the VA Outpatient Clinic. We got there about 4 o'clock and were one of the few diners because we were so early. I like this so much better than going out later at night when it's dark and the restaurants are loaded with noisy family and noise and chaos. I don't like to drive at night either even though Pat drives all the time when he visits me. We had a fabulous meal and I had a fantastic Frozen Lime Margarita in a quiet restaurant except for Mexican music playing lightly in the background. We could actually hear each other talking without shouting. And I had enough food left over for another meal at home.
Today we made the rounds to look for a dryer vent cover. The one I bought last week at Home Depot doesn't fit as the one I bought from Amazon last month didn't fit. My previous dryer vent covers have deteriorated from the weather and I need the pest guard to keep the nearby field mice from entering my house and setting up a family under my refrigerator like they tried to do a few years ago (I killed the dad and pregnant mama with dual mouse traps - I don't like to kill critters but I won't share my house with mice, no matter how cute they are). At my wit's end about finding a vent cover that fits (why do manufactures always change the size?) I gave up and called Scott, my local handyman to rescue me and Pat. Pat is still willing to fix the vent cover
Pat checking out the size of the vent cover
but right now I have no vent cover and I had to place a screen over that hole in my house where the dryer vent that comes out. I love living in my own house but there are always maintenance items like this to take care. Always.
We took advantage of another off season restaurant meal this afternoon at four. We went to Touch of Italy with has 50% off of past a dishes. I got the Penne Rigate
My Penne Rigate pasta with Bolognese sauce and freshly graded Parmesan cheese
which was delicious but at $27.95 regular price which I would never pay but at half price, it's doable. $10 for the house wine which was also very good. I can't afford regular restaurant prices anymore unless they're Mexican restaurants which seem to be less costly and offer more food. I ate this whole bowl of pasta, no leftovers to take home like I did yesterday. The Touch of Italy entrees may be expensive but they are worth it. They make their own pasta and have their own wine. Their food doesn't come from Sysco frozen food delivery trucks
Sysco Frozen Food deliveries early in the morning at Rehoboth Beach restaurants. On the truck it says "quality food". Don't believe that statement for one second. It's frozen food to feed the tourist masses at vastly marked up entrees and such. My taste buds still work fine and besides, I used to work at the Hampton Inn and that's where we got all our food. Frozen.
one sees so often unloading early in the morning in the back of restaurants to serve that defrosted slop to the tourist masses. If I want reheated frozen food I'll eat food that I have prepared myself and put in my freezer chest. It tastes better than Sysco's.
Even though I had a fabulous meal at Touch of Italy I was exhausted when I returned home today.
With all this activity I just got so stressed out today that my left eye started to bother me again. I have a stigmatism in that eye and whenever I get stressed it's like I have a speck dust in my eye. I laid down for a nap around 5:30 PM. Pat woke me up sometime after 7 PM. I didn't want to get up but he urged me to get up or else I wouldn't be able to sleep through the night. So here I am now at 12:07 AM, early in the morning writing one of my longest blog posts in months. I hope you're not sorry for stopping by. Usually I don't blog post when Pat visits because I just don't have the time but I'm taking the time to get back into my regular routine so I can lower my stress level. And it is working because my eye isn't bothering me any more.
A short while ago I talked to Pat about this situation and we agreed that he will go out tomorrow on his own and look for those vent covers and do whatever else he needs or wants to do. He doesn't need me hobbling about, struggling to get out of my car and then hobbling on a cane. That Pat, just like Bill....so patient with me. I don't know how they do it. Perhaps that why I love them so much, they put up with me. I don't know that I would if I was in their shoes.
Pat left his house in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada very early this morning about 3:15 AM. Right now he is in upstate Pennsylvania. He should be here at Casa Tipton-Kelly about 3 PM this afternoon. YEA!
Rolling out the red carpet for my Canadian husband!
That special time is here again folks! Pat, my Canadian husband of almost a year, is coming for a visit!
He will be here two weeks. I already have a lengthy To Do List on his desk in his bedroom.
As you all know I'm not the handyman type. Pat is. Not quite as skilled as Bill was (Bill could build a house and was a certified electrician - Army and Air Force trained). But Pat can handle the small jobs which still need to be done before they turn into big jobs. I can do them half assed but I hate that kind of work. I'm a cook. I love to cook. Experiment with different recipes. Funny thing, neither Pat nor Bill likes to cook.
The only trip we have planned is one to the Christiana Mall outside Wilmington. That an hour and a half drive. I ordered a new iPhone 18. I have to pick it up at the Apple Store at the Christiana Mall. I could have had it delivered but it wouldn't be until the end of the month (October). Pat will only be here two weeks and I want to give him my iPhone 16. He needs a new iPhone. I'm on that lease plan with Apple where I can get a new iPhone every year or keep the one I have for two years until it is paid off then the phone is mine. These days since Casa Tipton-Kelly household income is cut in half, I have to be much more careful with expenses. Every dollar counts with the rising cost of living. I just paid my auto insurance for six months. You don't want to know. My "free" health insurance (Medicare) Part B also went up substantially. Thank goodness for the VA where I get my meds which I only have to pay fifteen dollars for, no matter what the meds and I use a lot of meds to keep this old body going.
I was going to take a trip with Pat to my former hometown of Downingtown PA (2 1/2 hour drive each way) for my monthly high school class (of 1959) luncheon. I cancelled out though because my former best friend from high school won't be there (he has another commitment). Not that I have anything against the other former classmates but I wasn't that close to them and a five hour trip in my new car ("The Princes") doesn't justify the expense nor the time. Making hard choices at this time of my life folks.
This morning I gave blood at my local VA Outpatient Clinic, also called "labs." I see my VA doctor next week. I see him every six months now that I'm nearing my Exit Date. It's going to be interesting to see if my PSA has taken any more leaps. Doesn't matter if it does, I'm not subjecting this tired old body to any more procedures. Not doing it. So far so good. I get up in the morning and I can hardly move but I attribute that to my advancing arthritis. I hope it's not the prostate cancer spreading to my bones but if it is, I'll deal with that if and when the time comes. As I've said many times before in this forum, although I have a good life now, when I go to bed I usually think about "is this the time not waking up.?"
That's the way I want to go folks, just slip away in my sleep.
But for now I have some good living to do the next two weeks. That's why I'm rolling out the red carpet for Pat. It will be nice to have a driver again and someone else in the house. Get's lonely here at times even thou Bill has been visiting me the past two night with that burned out Christmas light.
Me at eleven years old without a worry in the world. Year 1953.
My world has been shrinking this past year.
Yesterday I woke up with a mild case of vertigo. Have you ever had vertigo? It's awful. The best way I can describe it is remember when you were a kid and you spun around then tried to walk straight but you couldn't? That's what vertigo is like. Everything is spinning. One time I had it so bad Bill had to take me to the emergency room. It lasted all day. The only way out of it is to take the medication they gave me and get a lot of rest. My vertigo wasn't that bad yesterday that I had to go to the emergency room so I just rested. I couldn't even read. I always like to read before I go to sleep. And I certainly could't drive yesterday. I did want to get a few items at Food Lion but driving was out of question.
I could go out today but we just had a nor'easter roar through here last night and this morning. I don't want to get the Princess wet. I'll go out tomorrow.
Having that vertigo again yesterday reminded me of how vulnerable I am living alone here. In the past Bill would drive me if I had to go someplace. Now that function is up to Pat and of course he's not here. He's in Canada waiting for his green card approval which could take another year. Week after next he's coming down for a thirteen day visit which he's been doing every four months. I try to schedule my doctors' appointments for when he is down here. Next Friday I have to give blood for my six month labs checkup at the VA. The following Tuesday I see my VA doctor. Pat will be with me then. This will be his first time seeing my doctor.
Having this vertigo incident reminded me yesterday that I have to have a backup plan when I can't drive. I can have my food delivered and I can even have remote visits with my doctor via TeleHealth. That's how I visit my VA doctor now, it's just at the VA Outpatient Clinic in Georgetown. I used to see him in person but now he works from his home and sees all his patients via TeleHealth.
I like to get out. But I don't like to do long trips like visiting my former hometown in Pennsylvania. Bill and I used to take those visits almost monthly for several years after we moved down here. That's a two and a half hour drive up and back. I don't do that anymore. And of course with all the road construction down here in Sussex County this year I only go north on Route One to Milton and Food Lion. I can't go south on Route One, traffic has been backed up all summer while DelDot builds new roundabouts to handle the increased traffic in this year round tourists destination that Rehoboth Beach and it's environs now hold. When Pat comes down the week after next, he does all the driving. In the Princess. Pat's a good driver and I enjoy being chauffeured around. He does spoil me.
But back to my world shrinking. Ever since Bill died two and a half years ago, I have limited my driving. I used to take Bill out at least once a day for a drive, sometimes twice. I of course do not do that for myself. And when I do go out I only go out if it is absolutely necessary for food shopping or the occasional stop at my local Ace Hardware. Thank God for Amazon. I'm a Prime member and believe me I take advantage of my membership by ordering items I want on my computer and having them delivered to my front door in the next day. Amazon has spoiled me. I don't care that Mr. Bezos had bended the knee to The Convicted Felon In The White House, Amazon makes my life easier and that's all I care about. I'm not going to punish myself just because of the brazen cowardice of people like Mr. Amazon.
Well, I've rambled on enough for today. The rain has stopped. I think I'll take a refreshing walk outside. My daily walks are good in two ways. Clears my mind and keeps the blood flowing in my tired old body. And I always feel good after a good walk.
Today I will take you behind the scenes to show all my faithful followers where my blogging emanates from. My home office!
I finally have a tripod on which I can place my iPhone camera without breaking all my fingernails. I also have a remote control where I can position myself before I turn on the camera. No more scenes of me rushing to my position for videoing after turning on my iPhone. However, this morning's video is a little jerky because I'm still not smooth at this thing. Give me time.
The last several weeks I've been in a depressed mood. Can't exactly explain why other than I still miss Bill terribly which I know now I will the rest of my life. I just have to deal with it. Thank God I have Pat in my life. Week after next he will be here for a couple of weeks. Always a treat when Pat is here.
Fall has finally arrived here in southern coastal Delaware where I have been living for the past twenty years. Just on time to as the Winter Solstice began a few days ago. I am so tired of the heat and humidity of this past summer. It was suffocating. Most days I had to spend in my house. Lately with the cooler weather I can get out and take my daily walk in the Oyster Rocks development (they have better roads) behind my development. I couldn't take these walks in the summer heat and humidity. It would probably kill me. I can't breathe in that heat and humidity. Since I've been walking my legs feel so much better. They tend to swell up if I don't walk. Especially if I spend too much time at my computer as I am doing now.
I noticed lately my sleep pattern has changed. I wonder what this means? I usually have a later dinner from 7:30 PM on at night. About an hour after I become seriously tired. I try to stay up until at least 10 o'clock but lately I haven't been able to manage it. So I go to bed around 9:30 PM. The thing is I get up around 4:30 AM in the morning. I'm ready to go. But then around 9:30 AM I'm tired again and I take a short nap. In the afternoon I take a long nap. That's my Serious Nap. Usually about an hour to an hour and a half. Pat always calls me at 6 PM to make sure I'm awake. I think I'm entering into serious Old Man Territory folks.
I think a lot of my current funky mood has to do with the political situation in America now. I won't go into all that mess but you all know what I'm talking about. I will say this though, I'm confident the Dems will win big time the midterm elections but I'm not sure if the current criminal administration of Trump and his thugs will accept that outcome. Fasten your seatbelts folks, more chaos will be coming this November and especially January 3rd when the House is expected to verify the new members of Congress, which I'm sure the current criminals in charge of the United States government will to accept. We live in perilous times folks. To tell you the truth, I'm glad in a way that I'm at the end of my life and I won't have to endure this worry anymore. I have enough to deal with my current physical state where I can hardly walk.
Speaking of which, I think I'll try and take my daily walk now.
Pat was surprised that I have this original Duane Eddy album from the early Sixties
Well folks, I've been in the dumps lately.
I don't know exactly but perhaps a lot of it has to do with the current political climate in the country that I live in. I'm trying to avoid going on a political rant but with the prices of everything going up, and the threat everything going to hell in this country, it's hard not to get depressed. So I'm going to think of good things. Pat is coming down again in a couple of weeks!
He'll be here October 4th and stay until October 17th. I already have a rather long To Do List for him. Pat is more of a handyman than I'll ever be.
I am still in the process of cleaning out my garage and basement of items no longer needed. Mostly items Bill had like old paint, thinner, insect sprays, garden poisons, etc and et al. I'm not getting rid of his tools. Nor his other items. However, I am selling all of our old jeans on eBay. I sold some of my old jeans (I've never thrown away old raggedy jeans) on eBay before Bill's strokes. Pat and I are also going to sell all my old LP albums and original 45's that are still in the original store bags with receipts. At one time I was collecting those 45's. All from the Sixties and Seventies.
It will be good to have someone in the house. While I enjoy living alone, being alone all the time isn't good. I think that was also contributing to my recent depression. Pat has his own bedroom on the other side of the house. When I go to bed at night I often hear strange nosies. I always feel more comfortable knowing that there is someone else in the house when I hear these strange noises in the night. Bill used to sleep downstairs in his basement bedroom. Even though I've slept apart from both of my husbands, it's nice knowing that they're in the house.
Fall is coming which is helping with my mood. Way too many hot and humid days this past summer. I was often trapped in my air conditioned house for most of the summer. I'm looking forward to working outside now that the cooler, less humid fall weather is making life outside more bearable.
This morning I woke up to the usual rain and humidity we've been having here at Casa Tipton-Kelly for the last few months of summer. No dry summer this year.
I recently began a regular walking routine in the morning back in my neighboring development of Oyster Rocks. They recently had their roads repaved (at a cost of $300,000) and it is pleasure to walk on that nice flat road. Here in my development, Covington Chase), the roads are on an incline and uneven. Not pleasant for my arthritic legs. I need my exercise but these days it's painful for me to walk. Not only with my stooped over posture but my legs ache. That was always the one thing I had, I could walk and walk until I got bored. These days I have to listen to my body. When my body says "Enough!" I go home and take a nap. Yes, that's about my life now.
I mostly stay home these days. I don't like to go out in the heavy summertime traffic. When I do I go out early in the morning to at least avoid some of the traffic. Just last week there was another serious accident just a bit down the road from where I enter the dreaded Route One, also known as Coastal Highway. Route One is a speedway. Entering it one takes one's life into one's own hands.
When Bill was alive I used to take him out at least once a day for a ride, sometimes twice a day. These days I only venture out once a week or maybe twice. I only go out for grocery shopping and doctor's appointments. There is no other reason for me to go out. I would like to go down to the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk and take a walk with the sea air breeze wafting through my clogged up nostrils. But fighting that traffic and paying $4 to park for half an hour just isn't worth it to me. There is nothing else for me to do in Rehoboth Beach anyway. No interesting stores which only sells overpriced tourist junk imported from China. Restaurants? Way overprice and I don't like to eat alone. So that's out. And I have no interest in hooking up with friends. What friends I had have either died or drifted away into their own lives. I enjoy my own company.
Pat will be down next month. I enjoy being with Pat. We'll go out to a couple of my favorite Mexican restaurants that aren't located in the high rent area of Rehoboth Beach. We'll also go to our favorite Italian restaurant for their off season specials. Oh, an update on Pat's green card status. Nothing. I have heard nothing. I read where those applications could take from eighteen months to two years. I doubt if I'll even be here then. Whatever, whatever. Given the current state of the U.S. government these days, I hold out little hope. If we get his green card, then we can proceed with Pat moving down here. If he doesn't, well, there isn't anything I can do about it. I've pushed worrying about this event way into the background of my everyday concerns. I just don't care that much anymore.
In the meantime I continue to mark time here until one day I am no longer here and reunited with Bill. That's what I look forward to these days my friends.
Photo of the back of my home here in southern Delaware taken at 1:26 PM today - I may not have access to the boardwalk or a view of the ocean but I am perfectly happy here.
Another Labor Day Weekend rolls by this weekend. I didn't go out today at all. And I won't all weekend. Like the rest of the summer, I gave up even attempting to take the ten mile ride down the road to Rehoboth Beach. Why would I? Fight all that traffic to find an expensive parking place in Rehoboth Beach to do what? The only thing I used to enjoy was walking on the boardwalk and I can't even do that now because of my physical infirmities. No problem though, I have a beautiful home right here on my Almost One Acre oasis in the midst of all the summertime chaos. I hear the constant roar of traffic going north and south on Route One just beyond my planted tree barrier while I'm fussing around my fish pond. That's just the way I like it.
Ah yes, here we are in September and as the album cover states "September In The Rain."
Dinah Washington is one of my favorite vocalists.
I have this album of hers.
I started to collect her albums after I got out of the Army in 1963. I lived alone (before met and moved in with Bill) for about two years. Dinah's music kept me company.
Over the years I drifted away from her music. However I still kept all of her albums.
After Bill died two and a half years ago I started to listen to her music again. This time I stream her music from my Pandora subscription on my Bose radio. Listening her Dinah sing brings back fond memories of my early days while I was looking for love in all the wrong places.
Yesterday during one of my several daily conversations with Pat on FaceTime (we're still waiting for his green card), the subject of all my albums came up. I'm at the point in my life which I'll never play another LP again. I have decided to sell online all of my albums, including my Dinah Washington collection. I think I have about two hundred LP albums.
LP albums have come back into favor again. Pat buys them at about $30 a clip. I bought mine (in the day) for $4.99. Pat and I were checking the value of selling some of my collection and were pleasantly surprised that most if not all of my albums are valuable, some selling for as much as $300. Of course all of my albums are in excellent condition. I even have mint 45 RPM that I've never even taken out of the bags that I brought them home in. They are also of value. This makes me feel good that I can pass on these treasures to others for a new life. A few years before Bill got sick, I was selling items on eBay including my old leather jacket and vest. I was also selling my vintage jeans. I made about $500. I still have about twenty pairs of jeans left to sell. I plan to sell them now that it is fall and I don't have to concern myself with the summertime tourist traffic down here in coastal Delaware. Selling anything on eBay and keeping a good reputation requires a fast and efficient delivery system.
That's it for now folks. And oh, yes it did rain last night.
Bill at our late friend Bob Mc's home outside Georgetown December 23, 2014 - we both miss Bob so much!
This week I had my annual visit to my cardiologist.
The visit went well.
My blood pressure was 124 over 68!
For at least a year now my blood pressure was measuring in the high 140's and low 150's. That was worrying for me because for most of my life my blood pressure has always been in the safe range.
One time it was measured at 184 at the VA right after I went by a picture of Trump at the VA Outpatient Clinic on the way to get my blood pressure taken.
During my last visit to the VA my primary care doctor increased my blood pressure medication (Losartan) to 10mg. That seemed to do the trick.
I still have my extra heartbeat which is the reason I began seeing a cardiologist about fifteen years ago. He says I still have that problem which is caused by one of my worn out heart valves (caused by age my cardiologist tells me). That extra heartbeat is my body compensating so I can keep ticking away.
Pat and I used to visit Palm Springs every February for Modernism Week. Sadly this annual holiday came to an end with both COVID and me taking care of Bill after he had his two strokes.
Now that Bill is gone and I no longer have a part-time job I don't think I can renew our annual holiday. The last time I went, two years ago, I almost didn't make it back. I was lost at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, trying to make my connection. If it wasn't for a black airport employee pushing an old fat white man in a wheelchair, seeing my dilemma, I would probably still be wandering around that massive Texas airport. He, the airport employee, after seeing me, motioned for me to follow him as he pushed his wheel chair guy to the airport monorail to make my connection. Once I got on the plane I made a note to myself, "Never again. I think this is my last trip." As I've been saying lately in this forum friends, I don't move around well at all these days. The stress just isn't worth it. But enough with my constant whining about my deteriorating mobility. I even bore myself.
Back when I did have my mobility, I liked to dance. I don't dance well (think the "Elaine Dance" and you come close to the way I dance) but I do enjoy dancing. In one of the exhibitions there was a Canadian band called "The Dreamboats." Here is a video I took of them playing the old Chuck Berry hit, "Johnny B. Goode. Watching and listening to this video brings back many fond memories of our visits to Palm Springs. Maybe some day I can manage to go back.
In a few months I will be eighty-five years old. Something I never would have believed if you had asked me twenty years ago when I retired from a full-time job.
But here I am, approaching my nineties. To tell you the truth folks, I don’t want to be ninety years old. I’ve lived a good life. A good long life.
Lots of interesting things have happened and continue to happen in my life Just last year I remarried again after my partner then husband of fifty-nine years died. He was ninety-five years old. He also had a good life (with me for much of it) but the last three years of his life was misery for him. He was blind, couldn’t swallow food and needed full-time care. We were both fortunate enough that I was healthy enough to keep him at our home which he loved so much. My promise to him as it was with my Mother, was to never put them in a facility. The “facilities” are actually warehouses of death that just drain one’s lifetime accumulation of wealth. Not that they aren’t solutions for some from children who don’t want to care for their parents to the widow who doesn’t want to spend her final years alone in a big house. I know all this first hand and I know the solution I wanted for my Mother and for my late husband. Now it is my turn.
Since Bill (my former husband) died two and a half years ago my health has gone down hill. Maybe when I was caring for Bill I pulled on my adrenaline reserves. I don’t know how I was able to care for him by myself (with help from the VA and Delaware Hospice) but I managed to keep him home until the last three days of his life. His health finally got to the point where he was unconscious and kept sliding on the floor. The instructions the hospice workers gave me for injecting pain relief morphine into Bill was just too much for me. I had finally reached my limit and I could no longer take care of Bill by myself. Delaware Hospice saw my dilemma and removed him on a Wednesday night. Bill lasted two and a half days at the Delaware Hospice center in Milford. I spent the first night with him and the next two days. I wanted to be with Bill when he died but I didn’t want to drive at night so, except for the first night which I stayed with him, I left at the end of the day before darkness fell. Early Saturday morning (a little after one AM) I received a call from Delaware Hospice. I knew.
They informed me that Bill had died at 12:20 AM.
My life hasn’t been the same since.
At first I was in shock that this man who had been so much a part of my life (we met when I was twenty-two years old and he thirty-five years old). Of course I knew he was going to die, we often talked about it. But this was a man who I lived with almost my entire adult life. Now I was alone. It took about three days for the shock of his death to sink in. Knowing that I would never see him again in this life.
I’ve experienced death before in my life and one time experienced grief. I probably should be ashamed to admit this but the most grief I ever experienced until Bill died was when my little sixteen year old five pound orange Pomeranian dog “Horace” died. We were best buddies. Of all the dogs that have been in my life, Horace was the one who chose me. When he died, I cried for the first time in my life. “So this is what grief is like?” I thought. Oh how little did I know. After the initial shock of Bill’s death wore off, then The Grief set in. Now two and a half years later it is still here and will be until my last dying breath. Even though I got married to a wonderful man last November, a good friend who I’ve known for thirteen years, it’s not the same. He lives in Canada. We’re working on getting his green card. And when he does get his green card he won’t live with me full-time. Part time at best. I will continue to live in my home of the past twenty years here in Delaware. There is so much of Bill in this house which I will continue to call “Casa Tipton-Kelly”, that the only way I will leave is on a gurney with a white sheet pulled over my head. Bill left this house on a gurney but that white sheet wasn’t pulled over his head. Mine will be different.
Bill and I both loved the woods. Our house in Pennsylvania was on 6.875 acres of wooded hillside land. We had to move because in retirement we could no longer afford to pay the high Pennsylvania taxes. Like many others retirees from the high tax states of New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania; we moved to Delaware which is much more retiree friendly. In the past twenty years I tried to replicate our .97 acres of flat coastal land into our own personal wooded oasis. I have been somewhat successful. Bill always enjoyed walking out in our backyard, even during his final months when he was blind (macular degeneration) and couldn’t fully see all the wooded fauna that I had personally planted over the past twenty years since we moved into our newly build home. We had no mortgage on our home. Only one tax, which was in three digits. No other taxes. To his dying day Bill missed our home in Pennsylvania but I had no other choice. I had to move to Delaware if we were to survive. Most of our new neighbors in our newly build development made the same decision. We all had that reason for living in Delaware in common.
Bill is in Heaven now. Occasionally he stops by via a burned out Christmas light that I had strung up in our living room year round. Bill’s form of macular degeneration was that he couldn’t see out of the center of his eyes. He could only see peripheral vision. He could see colors. He loved the colors of those Christmas lights. That’s why I left them up year round and I will continue to do so until I am no longer in this/our house.
During the last year of Bill’s life we had talked about “what was on the other side.” I told him “If there is something there, try to contact me.” And indeed he did. A few days after he died, while I was in our kitchen my peripheral vision saw something blinking. Our house has an open concept kitchen that looks out over the living room.
Again, I saw something blinking! I looked up and there it was! That burned out light I was thinking of replacing. “Why is that light blinking when the other burned out lights don’t blink?” I thought. After a few more rapid blinks then I got the message. Of course, it was Bill! So appropriate too because Bill’s occupation while he was alive was as an electrician. Since that first night of contact over two years ago, Bill has come back many times. Often when I need him during a stressful period or just sometimes when I’m lonely. He is there. I believe. I don’t have to convince anyone else what is happening. I know what is real for me and that is all that matters.
Now that I am at the end of my learning experience during this lifetime, I have no fear of death. Of course I am a little concerned how I get there. I don’t want a prolonged or painful death where I am a burden to anyone. That’s why I have decided to take advantage of Delaware’s new right to die law that became in effect this past January 1st. My doctor gives me six months or less to live, I’m making my final plans. I don’t know what I’m going to die of. My prostate cancer has returned for which I’m not seeking treatment. I have a heart condition. I have trouble walking.
I take one day at a time though. No more medical treatments to prolong my life. I’m done with treatments. I live each day here in the comfort of my home with all my memories of Bill. My new husband visits me four times a year for two weeks at a time.
These days I tire easily. I take a lot of naps. However, I’m still able to keep up my home. I cook for myself. I tend my almost once acre oasis. I pay my bills. I enjoy my privacy. My neighbors are wonderful. Best neighbors I’ve ever had in my lifetime.
One day I will no longer be here. I write this on my Substack account because I feel a need to leave a little of something behind once I leave. Maybe there is or will be someone like me out “there” who will find my experience of dealing with the end of my life interesting. If not, that’s alright too. Writing for me has been by whole life a form of therapy for me.
That said, I’m done with his stream of consciousness.
I lived in center city Philadelphia from 1969 to 1980. I loved walking to work during the day. Walking to the gay bars at night. Only problem was avoiding getting mugged. So I had a path. Thus I only got mugged once. Now I live in Delaware, near Rehoboth Beach. This is one street (Baltimore Avenue) where I can walk the street and not worry about getting mugged. Taxes are lower too. However, I still love Philly! Often visit. I think the streets are safer now too.
Every day I thank the Heavens above that I have a home that is bought and paid for.
This is something I worked my whole life for. To own my own home, mortgage free.
It took many years and there were a few scary times when I almost lost everything, but I’m here now.
My home is in southern coastal Delaware, near Rehoboth Beach.
Ironically I was a Beach Person in my younger days (I’m 84 now) but these days, in the twilight of my life, I never go to the beach. First for the obvious reasons, I don’t need anymore skin cancer pop ups for my dermatologist to burn off, but the main reason is that going to the beach just isn’t my in my interests these days. What is in my interests is living comfortable in my home until I meet my Maker in the Great Sky above.
Recently I discovered a Substack post of a guy who looked a lot like Pat, my current husband. He’s living out of his car. Something I could never do. He has a good reason to live out of his car, he doesn’t want to pay the exorbitantly high cost of housing himself in today’s economy. I can’t say I blame him. If I was just starting out today I couldn’t afford housing either. My first rental I was paying eight dollars a week for a one room efficiency apartment in Pittsburgh, PA. Before that I had free housing in the U.S. Army at Fort George G. Meade, Maryland. But I could never live out of my car. Mainly because I value my privacy too much. Another good reason is that now I am eighty-four years old I have physical limitations. I don’t walk steady. I need a lot of rest (heart problems). I don’t do stress sell in my old age dotage. This guy’s Substack I’m reading, he’s young (relatively 65 or so) and doesn’t require “things” like I do. He’s a minimalist. I’m not. I like my “things”. They invoke fond memories for me of my life with my previous partner/husband whom I was with for fifty-nine years.
My current husband, who is a minimalist and a Canadian, could probably live out of his car if he had a bigger one. He has a Fiat now. He lives in a small house that isn’t more than five hundred square feet and has minimal “things.” If he gets a new T-shirt a new pair of pants, he donates his old T-shirts and pants to Sallie Mae (as he calls the Salvation Army.) I admire him but I could never live that way. I have oodles of shirts and pants and out clothing which I will probably never wear in whatever remains of my life but I’m keeping them. I even have about forty neck ties from my former banking job. I keep them under my care in my two walk in closets until I depart this earth. My current husband will gladly and quickly dispose of those items. No problem there.
Pictured above is an older photo of me with my Subaru Forester taken a few years ago. I now own a Hyundai Venue which is even small that my Subaru Forester. It would be a tight fit for me to move and sleep in the back of my Venue. No thank you.
Every night I lay my old, tired body in my queen sized bed on my air foam mattress and enter my Dreamworld where, hopefully, one day I will be reunited in spirit with my former husband who was and is my soulmate.
When I go to sleep at night all is quiet around me. No noisy neighbors. No mortgage other worry about. Only thing I have to worry about is that I don’t fall when I get up multiple times in the night to take a pee in my bathroom.
A selfie I took this morning on my back deck with my new tripod.
Finally! After all these years I finally got a tripod that accommodates my iPhone.
For years I've been asking Bill to take photos of me. Then when he lost his vision to macular degeneration I had to figure out another way to take pictures of me. When I was with Pat I would ask him, which he would often accommodate me, but I know it wasn't his thing. It wasn't really Bill's thing either. Both of these men, lovely men who I loved and love dearly, weren't as interested in taking photos as I was and still am.
The rare time I would attempt to take a selfie or a video (I took some of me and Bill a few months before he died), I would prop my iPhone up on the kitchen counter or some other surface. I have several older tripods but they don't accommodate iPhones. They have that screw in the bottom for SLR cameras. I have an SLR camera but haven't used it in years. Paid over a thousand dollars for it too! Does anyone use SLR cameras anymore? Even the ones that take videos, which mine does?
So folks, expect a lot more current pictures of me and even videos. I'm sure some of you are very tired of seeing my old photos posted over and over again to this blog. Now you'll get to see me in all my rapidly deteriorating physical state, especially my posture problem (called humpback) where I can no longer stand up straight. My condition is called "age-related hyperkyphosis or a "dowagers hump" which is usually caused by a combination of bone leaking, muscle loss, spinal wear and tear and every day postural habits. I'm in good company. Below is 96 year old Clint Eastwood.
Photo taken this morning with my new tripod with remote control!
Well folks, here we go again. I just completed opening a Substack account. Click here:
I started this process about a week ago. At times it was frustrating going through the procedure only to encounter another hurdle. But after a long and frustrating morning, I think I accomplished my goal.
Good question and I have an easy answer. To earn extra money to supplement my household income.
Now the next obvious question is:
"Ron, what would be different in your new Substack postings than I already read now in your Blogger postings?"
Again, another good question! And I have an easy answer:
Not much really.......at first. Maybe, as I get more comfortable with the Substack format, which I like very much, I'll have extra content that I'm unable to have on this Blogger format.
Last question:
"Ron, will you keep your Retired in Delaware blogger account?"
Answer: Absolutely! I've been blogging for twenty-one years now. I'm comfortable here and here I will stay until exit Casa Tipton-Kelly on a gurney.
Pat's home in downtown Hamilton, Ontario, Canada March 27, 2024 (the one on the left with a yellow door)
Remember a few years back when I wrote about Pat's problem neighbor?
Pat lives in downtown Hamilton, Ontario, Canada on Hess Street.
He moved there three years ago after selling his penthouse condo at the former Royal Connaught Hotel (at a big loss) when the housing market in Canada was collapsing.
He was lucky to find this gem of a small house that was built in 1910. He fell in love with it right away, being the minimalist that he is.
The location (downtown, right next to Hess Village) was perfect.
The size (under six hundred square feet) was also perfect. Pat is the opposite of me. I like a big house (mine is over 5200 square feet).
However, there was one big problem that Pat didn't discover until after he moved in.
Pat's house is on the left (yellow door).
The problem is the middle house. It's inhabited by squatters. Druggie squatters.
Well, not actually squatters. The woman who occupies it is the granddaughter of a man who died intestate. He owned several properties in Hamilton, all in disrepair. She doesn't own the house. She (Kim). , with her druggie boyfriend (Ray, also the father of her children, Pat thinks they are married), moved in three years ago.
After they moved in Pat and his neighbors began to see a steady flow of "customers."
Yes, this is a real picture of some of Pat's neighbor's visitors. I wonder what the draw is?
Drug customers.
Sex (yes) customers.
"Houston, we have a problem here."
I could write a small book about all the going ons the past three years but I don't have the time here to do that. But what I can say that this has been a nightmare for Pat and his neighbors, especially the woman (Samantha) who lives in the other small house connected on the right. The druggie squatters live (if it can be called living) in the middle house.
Ray, Pat and Sam's neighbor and what the inside of their "home" looks like. Sam snuck this picture.
When they first moved in they didn't have running water or electricity. They were probably stealing Pat or Sam's facilities. Pat and Sam ended that.
More "merchandise" from Pat's neighbors - right on the front lawn
Then the druggies were keeping Pat and Sam up all night (at that time Sam was the full-time caregiver of her dying husband, who has since died) with hammering on the walls (they must of been doing redecorating), loud arguments (always from the woman who was screaming at her partner and father of her four children who aren't there thank God), and the worst of all the constant stream of unsavory characters coming and going at all hours. The only quiet times were in the morning. Pat and Sam suspect they're vampires.
Now for the past three years Pat and Sam have complained and complained to the city authorities. Made calls to the police. Contacted and paid lawyers to see what they can do about having their druggie neighbors evicted because they haven't paid taxes (of course) for the past three years.
About two months ago Ray disappeared. Pat and Sam think he's in jail. Arrested for either selling drugs (which they obviously were doing out of this house) and/or selling stolen goods (lots of furniture and clothing and other items pass through their doors).
This picture taken last month of Kim sitting on her front stoop with a friend. Pat tells friends who visit him that he lives on Skid Row. I actually feel sorry for her. What a waste of a life.
Since Ray disappeared from the scene it's been relatively quiet. Except for two occasions when someone else was over there and left the radio on all night blasting. Both Pat and Sam called the authorities but they couldn't do anything (break in). Eventually that stopped but someone else is there. Pat and Sam don't know who but this whole thing seems to be coming to a head. Yesterday Sam took picture of Kim trying to remove a padlock from the front door.
You know what folks? I'm getting depressed with writing this post about Pat's neighbors. What a terrible waste of life. This woman is the mother to four children. I understand she's just trying to live her life the best she can with her addiction. It's just a shame that her life is impacting on so many others. Not just Pat and his neighbor Samantha but the other neighbors on the street.
Now that someone (we think the city) has padlocked the residence, maybe something will finally have to be done. This situation is a complicated because the property did belong to her father (or grandfather). But she hasn't paid taxes for at least three years and she is a disturbance to the neighborhood.
When I see something like this I realize how fortunate I am to live where I live. Back in the eighties, when I had an apartment in center city Philadelphia that I leased for a year while our house out in the country was being completed (believe it or not we sold our house in Philly too fast, before our other house was completed and I needed a place to live and go to work), I tried to help two different drug addicted guys. It just didn't work out. One almost burned down my apartment when he fell asleep with a lit cigarette. When I mentioned this to a friend he told me the reason this guy was homeless was because where he was staying he did catch the place on fire by falling asleep with a lit cigarette and they threw him out. I had to do the same thing. I won't even get into what I had to deal with the other guy I was trying to help. Both of them were gay so that was the link. All I remember it was a nightmare trying to help these guys who had the addiction. I failed.
I'll leave with this image of Kim having an episode out in the street in front of Pat's house. So sad.
Now you know why I haven't been posting about Pat's problem neighbor.
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