March has come and gone and here we are, almost at the end of April.
I must say we're having a wonderful spring here at Casa Tipton-Kelly in southern coastal Delaware.
Too often in years past the transition from the winter cold to the heat and humidity of summers on the Delmarva peninsula is only interrupted by two or three days of spring like weather. This year is different. Many nice spring weather days. Today was one of them.
I usually go out early in the morning and attend to my backyard maintenance. I know now that I'll never be completely caught up but I do what I can. I'm limited by my arthritic eighty-three year old body. I work, often in pain from my joints and middle back, until I feel myself winding down. I've learned over the past few years to ration out my physical exertion. Seems to work well for me.
Some years ago I gave up on the project of keeping Casa Tipton-Kelly perfectly manicured. Now I just do the basics like mowing the grass every other week, Jose my local landscaper mows my grass on the weeks when I don't. Jose or his helper weed whacks, something I absolutely cannot do with my back.
Life is settling into a comfortable routine here. Of course I still miss Bill, especially on days like this because he would sit in his favorite chair on our deck and nap while I toiled in our backyard. These days he's often with me but in spirit only.
I'm managing to control my expenses. I have to learn to live on my retirement and Social Security alone. Of course I'm worried about what Trump and his billionaire friends are going to do to Social Security. They're eying all that money and they want it. Don't kid yourself. At least that immigrant from South Africa is stepping back now from his chainsaw disruption now that his Tesla stock is crashing. Fuck him.
As you probably noticed I haven't been updating my blog on a regular basis. I also haven't been updating my journal. I still make an effort, both in the blog and journal. I don't want to stop completely. It's just that my attention is elsewhere and I'm tired. I am so tired.
This week I'm watching my neighbor's cat. They took a spring break to Jamaica, where my ancestor Jonathan Tipton came from in 1692 after the Great Earthquake of 1692 destroyed his rum barrel stave making business in Port Royale, Jamaica. These days I'm a little worried that if Trump and his thugs (Stephen Miller) check my social postings they may deny me entry back into the United States. They'll figure out a way to ship my ass back to Jamaica.
Still waiting for Pat to get approval from the American Consulate in Montreal for us to get married. I hope all this vitriol between us and our former best friend Canada doesn't ruin me and Pat getting married and spending our twilight years together.
I hope all who read this are doing well.
