You Really Can't Go Home Again

Bill and I visited our former home in Pennsylvania today. We just got back home here in Delaware a few minutes ago. All I can say is that we're still in shock after discovering the advanced state of disrepair of our former home and property.




The grounds were totally unkempt. I don't believe the hedges were ever trimmed since the say we sold the property on November 17, 2006. Fallen branches and debris litter the lawn at every turn.



The fish ponds are still there but are full of decaying leaves. Much to my surprise I saw two goldfish. God knows how they survived the past almost three years. I feel so guilty leaving them to this fate.



The inside of the house is just as bad. The beautiful solid walnut wood floors that were Varathaned to a high gloss, are chipped and scratched big time. I suspect the scratches are mostly from dog toenails since the owners have a dog. The scratches are extra high near the windows where the dog obviously got excited when someone approached the house.



Most of the walls are half stripped of wall paper.



The rusty wheel barrow I left leaning against the tree because I didn't have room for it in my car is still leaning in the same spot as are many other items I did not remove.



The house is being sold "as is." It is advertised as "needing a little TLC." I would say.



Bill and I were really looking forward to seeing what the new owners did with the house. Now we know. They didn't do much except replace a shower with a bathtub for their daughters' bedroom and make a home office in the space above the garage.



On the way up to Pennsylvania this morning Bill and I were discussing open casket funerals. Bill doesn't like them. They don't bother me. I told Bill the first time I saw a dead body in an open casket was when I was 18 years old and the deceased person was my Uncle John Tipton who died in an accident (he burned to death.) Almost everyone remarked "how well he looked." I looked at him and I didn't see my Uncle John. I saw a shell that he inhabited while he was on this earth. The man I knew was gone. He had departed from this shell (body) he occupied during his time on earth. I had that same feeling today when I saw our old home. It isn't our home anymore. It is a shell. That house and property does not posses the life it did when we were there with our three dogs. As a good friend of mine said about his home before he was about to move "This house used to sing, it doesn't sing now." That's the way I feel now. Our former home doesn't sing anymore. We have a new home here in Delaware and it sings.

House for Sale

I just heard that our old property in Pennsylvania is up for sale.  If I had the money I would buy it back in a second.

Bill has never been happy at our new home in Delaware.  I am very happy at our new home in Delaware.

My plan was to win the Powerball so I could buy our old home back.  Bill could live up there and I could live here in Delaware.  We could visit each other.

I have a rich friend who has a home in Rehoboth Beach and a home not too far from our old home in Pennsylvania.  Like our old home, his Pennsylvania home is also in the woods.  His home in Delaware is three blocks form the Atlantic Ocean.  Our home in Delaware is two miles from the Delaware Bay.  Our friend travels back and forth between his two homes.  Our friend is rich.  We are not rich.  That's why I want to win the Powerball lottery.  Then I will be rich and can buy back our old home in Pennsylvania.

Never Too Many Flowers

Bill and I got back from our weekly breakfast at Zorba's restaurant in Rehoboth Beach a short time ago. We're both full of buttermilk pancakes. What a wonderful way to start the day.




The skies are clear, the temperatures are cool (66 degrees) and the cool breeze of the morning invigorates the spirit. It is on days like this that one is glad to be alive.



Our neighbor stopped by last night to bring Bill some of his homemade grilled chicken. He warned me and Bill that he may have to use a machete to cut his way through our foliage to get to our front door the next time he stops over.

I love a walkway that is enveloped by a colorful border of flowers. For years and years I wanted such a walkway but when I lived in the woods in Pennsylvania the deer would not permit it. The deer ate my impatient flowers as soon as they bloomed. They ate my Hosta plants. They ate my azalea plants. They ate my rhododendron plants. They ate everything.



Today I start my three day blitz of work from 3 to 11 tonight. Monday I have an appointment with my doctor at the Veterans Administration Center in Wilmington to review my lab tests I took a few weeks ago. I work a few more days until the end of the month.



Next month I attend my 50th high school class reunion. That takes place on October 17th at the Whitford County Club in Exton, PA. Between then and now I have to update the reunion booklet. I haven't gotten the updated information from my classmates yet so I expect that it will be crunch time updating that booklet.



This past week I sensed the change of seasons. My work at the hotel will be winding down to one day a week. The yard work that has consumed so much of my time this spring and summer will come to an end with the cold weather.



This winter I plan to finally finish unpacking the boxes that I left unpacked in my media room in the basement. They have been in that room since we moved down here November 17th, 2006. Somewhere in there are some goodies I've been missing. Once I sort through those boxes, I'll make the determination what I keep and what goes to the local thrift store.



Now that I'm entering the last chapter of my life I realize it is time for me to make some final decisions. No more saving "things" for the future. The future is here now. I do know that most of the "stuff" I have is of no interest to anyone but me. However, I do receive some pleasure from seeing mementos from my past life. They bring back memories of a time not so long ago that I thought would go on forever.



I have memories of yesterday and hope for tomorrow. But I live for today.

Crazy Days

I thought I was going to coast through this week after only having to work Monday night at the hotel. That didn't happen. Here's just a short list of all the unexpected things that happened that has worn this old boy out:




Monday: Had a scheduled appointment with the dermatologist at the Wilmington VA. I missed my ride (they were looking for me at the American Legion Post 28 in Millsboro and I was at Rts. 1 and 5.) Bill had to drive me to the VA. At the VA I got three precancerous spots burned off of my face. That procedure didn't feel good.



After shopping at Sam's Club in Dover, we get home in time for me to have a quick lunch and go in early to relieve the daytime front desk clerk who had to pick up her daughter at school.



I get off work at 11 that night and get home exhausted.



Tuesday: A day of "rest." No obligations today so I took the time to mow and trip the grass on my one acre property. That chore took about two hours. While I love working outside, the strong wind was wearing me down.



A former co-worker and friend who I haven't seen in over ten years, calls and tells me he is in Ocean City, MD and would like to stop by for a visit tomorrow. I say okay.



My Mother calls and says that the bank didn't receive the CD they sent to me to be signed. I know I sent it to them. I calm down my Mother and assure her that her CD isn't lost and then play telephone tag with the lady at the bank whose name is Dulemba ("Dumb".) She has a HEAVEY Hispanic accent. And she's an AVP? Finally late afternoon we connect and she tells me that she will send new paperwork. I call my Mother and tell her that all is not lost. I miss my afternoon nap.



Wednesday: My former co-worker and friend stops by the house at 11:30 am. While it was good to see him, I'm in my tour guide mode for the rest of the day. I had planned to do my weekly cooking on this day and also get a haircut, but that has to be postponed. My friend leaves late afternoon. I miss my afternoon nap. I try to get on the computer before I go to bed. I've lost my Internet connection.



Thursday: First thing, I check to see if I have an Internet connection. I don't even have a phone connection. Thus, I will spend a good portion of my morning calling Verizon on my cell phone and punching through a series of menu options to report no phone service and not Internet service. Bill wants me to drop him off at an auto repair garage in Milton. I'm baking a pie in the oven. I ask him to give me an hour.



On the way to Milton I get a call on my cell phone from the Verizon service repairman asking me if I tested the house lines. I told him we did. The problem is never in the house. I've had more problems with my Verizon connection since I moved to Delaware 2 1/2 years ago than I had in my 26 years when I lived in Pennsylvania.



Bill insists that I meet his auto repairman. I agree he's a character. Bill is intrigued by his "Southern" accent. I tell Bill "That's a Sussex County redneck accent. You just haven't heard it before because we live on the east side of Rt. 1 where all the transplants from other states live."



We return home and for the first time this week I have a normal lunch and take a short nap. I didn't sleep well because I knew I still had a lot to do today. I was up but I still had a lingering tiredness. I headed to the kitchen and finally started to prepare my weekly cooking project. I cook a casserole once a week and eat the left over the rest of the week. This cuts down on my food prep time. Today's recipe was very labor intensive. I was using the overflow of tomatoes from my garden and eggplant to make my Eggplant and Tomato Casserole (I have to come up with a unique name since the recipe is my invention.) The recipe also contains Italian sweet sausage, bread crumbs, Mozzarella cheese and Chablis wine. It is delicious and lasts all week if I'm lucky.



I received a call from a friend of mine who wants to dispose of his dead TV. Our schedules haven't coincided yet to enable me to help him transport his dead TV to the recycle center. I didn't finish cooking until 7:30 this evening. I am exhausted but as I said earlier, this recipe is very labor intensive but well worth it. I send my friend an e-mail and suggest Saturday, after my weekly breakfast at Zorba's with Bill and before I go to work at the hotel.  There appears to be a window of opportunity there.  Hopefully it will fit into my friend's schedule.



As far as I know I have nothing scheduled for tomorrow. Perhaps I can start on updating my 50th class reunion booklet. The reunion is October 17th, so I don't have much time.



Tomorrow I’ll mentally prepare myself for a three day stretch of work at the hotel. On Monday I have another appointment at the Wilmington VA. Yesterday Bill and I stopped down at the American Legion Post 28 in Millsboro to check in person my van reservation for Monday. They have me down to be picked up at Rts. 1 and 5. Maybe next week will get off to a better start.



I’m looking forward to the cool weather. My hours will go back to one night a week. The yard work will come to an end. After the class reunion on October 17th, I plan to finish unpacking from our move down here almost three years ago (November 17, 2006.)



This November I will turn 68 years old. I remember something my Mother told me about the time she reached this age. She was weeding corn and realized after the third row she couldn’t do what she took for granted. For the first time in her life she felt her age. That’s what I’m feeling now, my age. I am tired.

Visit From an Old Friend

Today I had a visit from an old friend and former co-worker from my Philadelphia bank days.




The last time I saw Tom was in 1996. We used to work together from 1987 to 1994 at Fidelity Bank in Philadelphia.



Over the years we have talked on the phone but not seen each other face to face since the last time he visited me when I worked at Downingtown National Bank.



Tom called last night and said he was in Ocean City Maryland and would I mind if he stopped in for a visit. Of course I said I would love to see him. Tom was one of my favorite co-workers at Fidelity Bank. The reason for that is probably because we think a lot alike. However, that is where the similarities end. Tom is straight, I am gay. Tom is a millionaire and I am poor. But he's still the same Tom that I remember from our days at Fidelity Bank in Philadelphia. Friendly, funny and personable.  I've often told Tom he could make a living as a stand-up comedian, he is that funny. 



When Tom was a youngster his family used to bring him to Lewes, Delaware for the summer. He hasn't been in the area in over fifteen years. He was very surprised by all the changes.


I took him to meet the folks I work with now at the hotel next to the canal in Lewes. I had another pleasant surprise because the son of my co-worker at the hotel was back from Iraq and visiting her. I gave him a big hug and thanked him for his service to our country.



Tom and I left for lunch in Rehoboth. I took him to my favorite place the Purple Parrot. We both liked char grilled hamburgers and the Parrot is one of the few restaurants that serves real char grilled hamburgers.



After lunch we took a walk up the street and I took Tom in to another restaurant to visit a good friend who is the host of that restaurant. This was the first time I was in my friend's workplace. Again, I was impressed. Maybe this was a day for me to be impressed.



Today was a day of a lot of smiles, rehashing old stories and general good will and camaraderie. Today was a good day.



The only negative note was when I got home and checked my e-mail and found that that the mother of a very good friend of mine had died. Today was another reminder of how fragile life is and how we should make each day count. Today was one of those days that counted.

Visit to the VA

I missed my ride to the VA yesterday.




As Bill and I sat waiting in the early morning murkiness that is the parking lot of the liqueur store located at Rt. 1 and Rt. 5, I had an ominous feeling that the American Legion van wasn't stopping by to pick me up. I was right.



Six o'clock rolled around. No van. It is now six fifteen am and still there is no van. Maybe they're late. "No", I tell Bill,”they're not coming." Six thirty and it is now daylight. We're still in the parking lot waiting in vain for a ride that will never arrive. I call the van coordinator, waking him. Still half asleep, he told me he put me on the calendar at the American Legion. Then I thought "I didn't tell him to pick me up at Rt. 1 and 5." Ah ha. My fault.



My appointment at the VAMC in Wilmington was for 9:00 am in the dermatology department. I told Bill he will have to take me to the VA. It's a 90 mile trip one way. One plus is now we could give his new GPS a real test. Off we went to Wilmington in the early morning traffic. This was not what Bill had planned for this day.



The traffic wasn't as bad as we had feared. We only made one wrong turn (taking Rt. 141 south instead of Rt. 141 north.) The woman's voice (She Who Must Be Obeyed) on the GPS quickly recalculated and we quickly corrected our course. We arrived at the VA at 8:20, plenty of time for me to check into the dermatology unit. They request that you be there at least 15 minutes before your scheduled appointment.



A young intern from Thomas Jefferson University examined me for any skin cancer problems. She found three areas of actinic keratosis on my face. One was right in the middle of my forehead and two on my left sideburn. She burned them off with a dry ice spray. It burned. Now I have a red dot in the middle of my forehead. With a turban I could pass for one of those Pakistani sects.



After my treatment I went looking for the van driver in the main waiting area of the VA. The American Legion Post 28 of Oak Orchard provides a van four days a week for any veteran from Slower Lower (Sussex County Delaware) who wishes to avoid driving to the Wilmington VA. It is very generous of them. We can contribute to the cost if we want to but it isn't necessary. Most of the vets contribute $10 or whatever they can afford. No one keeps records.



I locate the van driver and tell him who I am. He shows me his list and I see a note next to my name as a "No Show." That's what we have at the hotel where I work, "No Shows." That's people who make reservations who don't show up. I'm a "No Show." I was mortified. I apologized to him and told him that I neglected to tell Tim (who I made the reservation through earlier in the week) that I was to be picked up at Rts. 1 and 5. The driver grunted and then shifted a bit to continue waiting for the other five vets who did show up. He was finished with me. As I left I gave him a light pat on the shoulder and I saw a hint of a mile. Maybe I redeemed myself.



Bill and I headed back home, but not before we made a pit stop at Sam's Club in Dover. They have the best rotisserie chicken. The absolute best and it only costs $4.97. We also did some other shopping before heading home. We were home before noon.



I made myself some lunch then took a nap prior to going into work at the hotel. My co-worker on day shift had called me on my cell phone while I was in the waiting room at the dermatology clinic and asked me to come in early for her because she had to pick her daughter up at school. I could do that.



Last night at work was uneventful except for the fact that one of the guests complained on a comment card that she almost fell on the wet tile floor I was mopping Saturday night. The owner stopped in and wanted to know what happened. I explained to him what happened which was that I was mopping the tile floor at 10:30 at night and the guest returned to the hotel with her husband and on her way to the elevator she almost slipped on the wet tile floor (which I did not have a sign that said "Wet Floor".) I didn't know there was a sign. Now I do. I mopped the floor last night and put the sign down which I must say makes me feel more comfortable when I mop the floor. No guests came in this time though to walk across my wet floor.



I finished my shift with an aching back which I usually do because I spend the whole eight hours either standing for sitting on a stool. I have no back support. Try that for eight hours. No complaints from me though. I'm appreciative that I have a job.



Thus I just finished one of my "Daily Journal" blog entries. Look for changes to come to this blog in the near future. I have been inspired by another blog that I recently read called "Ramblings of the bearded one." His name is Kim Ayres (yes, like me he uses his real name) and he lives in Scotland. I find his blog very interesting and readable. Up until now the only blogs that I have found interesting are of two friends of mine. Their blogs are interesting because they are well written and because I know them I find their lives interesting. However, up until now I haven't found a blog of a stranger as interesting because the ones I have read are either too off the wall, badly written or on arcane subjects I have no interest. I thought I would be interested in gay blogs but they are among the worst I've ever read. Kim is straight but that is beside the point. He is an excellent writer and he writes blogs that are thought provoking, serious, and funny at all the same time. This man has a talent that is unfiltered and unfettered by some arbitrary editor or publishing company. His blog for me is a pure joy to read. I'm going to steal some of his ideas to make my blogs more interesting and readable.



The only constant is change. I will continue this conversation later.

Feed the Meter

This evening I met my friend The Cajun in Rehoboth beach for a drink and a Wimpy burger at the Purple Parrot. We haven't been to any downtown Rehoboth Beach restaurant since before Memorial Day, the influx of the Horde (aka Summer Tourists.) We locals tend to stay away from downtown Rehoboth during the height of the summer season. We turn the town over to the tourists to deposit their cash at our many and sundry summertime attractions. One of the biggest money earners are the parking meters. $1.50 gets you an hour parking spot right in downtown Rehoboth Beach, where all the action is.




Traveling down Rt. 1 was a breeze early this evening as compared to the summertime traffic which is likely as not to be backed up. Taking the turn on Rt. 1A into Rehoboth was a pleasure this evening.


My friend The Cajun and I caught up on the past few months. We're both in the service industry (he a host at a local restaurant and me a front desk clerk at a local hotel.) We traded war stories about our summer's encounters with some of the more interesting personalities to visit the area this summer. Always fun to dish I say.



We both had a delicious Wimpy (char grilled hamburger) with the best French Fries this side of Provincetown, Mass. We had our desired window seat where we could people watch. The late Sunday afternoon daylight illuminated the thinned out herd of summertime visitors still strolling up and down Rehoboth Avenue. After a festive martini or two for my friend and a modest glass of Zinfandel white wine for me, we were ready to call it a day.



My friend took off for his home and I availed myself of the remaining daylight and took a several block walk to a former friend's house on Laurel Street to see if his neighbor has sold their house. I love downtown Rehoboth sans the crowds. I especially love walking through the neighborhoods on a quiet Sunday evening like this. I think if I ever win the Powerball Lottery (I'm WAY overdue to win) I just may buy myself one of these adorable beach cottages for my very own. I know the likelihood of me getting struck by lightening five times is greater than me winning the Powerball but I can dream can't I?



As the sun set I headed back to my car parked on Rehoboth Avenue. I still had 27 minutes left in my meter but I was ready to go. I don't like to travel at night anymore. I wanted to get home before dark. I guess I'm officially entering the age of Old Codger, afraid to drive in the dark.



I got home just before dark and here I sit now writing about it. I'm about to go to bed shortly because I have to get up way too early tomorrow (4:30 am) to get ready to catch the 6:00 am American Legion van to the Wilmington VA.



I enjoyed this evening but I don't think I'll do as many evenings out this year as I did in years past. I'm just not comfortable driving in the dark. For instance, tonight as I was driving up the four lane highway that is Route 1 there was a motorcyclist with his moll hanging on the back of him weaving in and out of traffic. I could hardly see them in the twilight and the floaters in my eyes. At my age I don't need to be out on the roads at night in the dark looking out for motorcyclists weaving in and out of traffic.



Besides, I'm having a hard time devouring a whole Wimpy. I guess there is just no getting around it. I am getting old. Gone are the days of youthful indiscretions and staying up all night and going to work first thing in the morning. These days I'm looking forward to that bed and sweet dreams. Still, it was nice visiting with my friend The Cajun this evening. Maybe we can do it again, like in January.