Monday, February 29, 2016

My Oscar Rant



Sly and wife Jennifer Flavin displaying the current fashion statement in Hollywood - skinny legged pants for the guys and the grown slip up to the hip - ah Hollywood!
Two years ago I stopped watching the Oscars.  I stopped watching because I couldn't stand listening to the acceptances speeches.  You all know what I'm talking about, acceptance speeches by most Oscar winners that are a long and boring recitation of "Thank you's" to just about everyone they ever encountered in their lives.  Sometimes it seems the only persons they left out was you and me, which isn't right because you know that WE are the ones who make their life of make believe possible.

So what did I do yesterday?  I got myself comfortable in the Tipton Cinema, in front of my 60-inch Samsung high definition TV with surround sound and . . . . watched. 

Oh my God folks, it was painful.  This was supposed to be the year that the winners were going to give acceptance speeches while a scroll rolled on the bottom of the screen with all those folks who "helped" them win their Oscars.  


Pharrell Williams - ready for a flood

Even so, the first person who won an Oscar, she couldn't help herself and, even as the scroll rolled at the bottom of the screen she started to thank all those folks who "were responsible" for her Oscar win.  She even mentioned that she expected the scroll to appear on the big screen behind her while she was bathing in her ego on the Oscar stage and worldwide TV coverage of TWO BILLION people LOOKING AT HER. 



What is it with these people? I love Hollywood and all the magic it represents. But this is what puzzles me. Why is all this talent so incapable of giving a proper acceptance speech instead of just reciting a litany of everyone they worked with on the film and their family, including children down to one week old? Even those who received Oscars for screen play are INCAPABLE of originality.


Kerry Washington in leather and silk - sorry Kerry, doesn't work

Check out this woman who won for costumes on "Mad Max - Fury Road" (which won a LOT of Oscars, I'm going to have to check out this movie).  
Remember my posting of yesterday with Jackie Gleason calling Donald Trump "BLABBERMOUTH!"?  God, the band had to play this woman off the stage.  


Eddie Redmayne with the current men's fashion - skinny legged pants - lovely, just lovely

What is it with these Hollywood types, especially the ones behind the scenes who once they get on that stage in front of two billion people, think that they're receiving an award for curing cancer?  Hey folks, you're working in an "industry" (and don't you love it when they call movie making "industry" like they're making cars?) that is make believe.  It's entertainment guys, make believe.  A "business" that the rest of us schlubs can only dream of have THAT easy life.  Oh sure, I hear the complaints from the actors that they "work hard" because they have to get up early for a shoot.  Poor babies.  Seems to me I remember getting up at 4:30 AM for YEARS to commute to my banking job in Philly. Nobody gave me an award for "working hard in the industry."  



  Go home lady. You've had your moment.

What really grates me in these Oscar acceptance speeches are those self involved egotists who JUST CAN'T WAIT to thank their children.  But I have to admit this guy takes the cake last night.  Look at the video below and see how he JUST CAN'T WAIT to thank his ONE WEEK OLD BABY.




 

 Hey Behind the Scenes Oscar Winner, NO ONE CARES.  Look at how he can hardly contain himself.  Probably worried that the band would drown him out before he had a chance to indulge in this ultimate his It's All About Me Moment.  Do you think these people realize what fools they make out of themselves?

And here is my last rant.  Every Oscar telecast, there is the Ponytail.  What?  You didn't have time to get a haircut?  This is your Statement?


 Folks, I could only take about an hour and a half into the Oscar show last night.  I just could NOT TAKE yet another Oscar winner thanking EVERYONE they ever ran across in their ENTIRE life, plus their family even down to one week old babies.  I've said it before and I'll say it again:

WHAT IS IT WITH THESE PEOPLE?  

So much talent (which I admit, being a longtime Hollywood fan) but when they engage in one of these orgies of self congratulations they become so stupid and incapable of an original and respectful (to the views) acceptance speech?  

Kate Winslet dressed in a black garbage bag at the Oscars last night



Saturday, February 27, 2016

That Time of Year - Daffodils

Me earlier this week with this season's new arrivals who have found their forever home at Casa Tipton-Kelly


Ah yes, it's "that time of year" folks, when Spring is just around the corner.  

I decided to get a jump start on Spring this year by planting a passel of miniature daffodils I purchased at my favorite local nursery. 

Oh how I love the sassiness of radiant, yellow daffodils bobbing in the brisk Spring air.  Folks, there is no better harbinger of Spring than daffodils spring forth, proclaiming yet another start of rebirth.  

I love all the Spring flowers but daffodils are perhaps my favorite because they come back every year.  They just keep on and on.


Daffodils that I rescued from an abandoned lot - 2005 I planted them in my father's former cornfield - I'm sure they're gone now because my brother lives at the old family homestead and has probably plowed them to extinction - a shame because these were beautiful white daffodils with a yellow stamen  - I tried

Have you ever seen daffodils blooming early in the Spring on a wooded patch of land?  You know what that was don't you?  There used to be someone's home there.  Long after the home is demolished the daffodils continue blooming.  I've always found that sad yet at the same time a reminder that life goes on.

When we moved down here to Delaware, I noticed daffodils blooming at the end of the road that borders our property.  There was no house on that small wooded patch of land but oh how the daffodils would burst forth in all they magnificent yellowness the first hint of Spring.  

As I did when I lived in Pennsylvania, I dug up those daffodils and replanted them on our property.  Good thing that I did because last year whoever owned that land, plowed down all the trees, which were a haven for birds and all kinds of other small wildlife, and now that lot is part of a cornfield.  Thank goodness I rescued those daffodils. 

So if you will excuse me folks, I'm going to take a quick trip to the local nursery and get some more daffodils.

Happy Spring!


Rescued daffodils now in the front of our home - a new lease on life!



Friday, February 26, 2016

Surviving Without a Landline



Hey folks!  I had my first big test today without a landline phone.

Remember a few days ago I finally had my landline disconnected after years of angst of "Can I survive without a landline?"  Well folks, today was the big test.  I survived!

I will admit I was very nervous about calling the Verizon phone company and taking the big step of removing my land line . . . . forever.  For more years than I care to remember I was paying $59.99 a month for my landline service.  That calculates to $720 a year.  Ten years that's $7,200! And folks, I was paying that amount for more than ten years.  Writing about this painful fact hurts me even today.




The first time I heard of someone relying solely on their cell phone, the son of a co-worker of mine, I thought "How can he do that?"  She told me "He doesn't need a land line?  Why does he?"  I was shocked but I thought "Why not?'  But, I was very reluctant to make such a drastic change.  After all, I was brought up brainwashed to believe that we needed that rotary phone in the house. What's this cell phone frivolity?  Some new tech thing for the youngsters?  Why I'm a solid, stable old conservative.  Why would I put my communication dependence on one of those fancy dancy cell phones that does everything from taking photos and videos and play online games like Scrabble on Facebook?  Oh no, not me.  

But you know what folks?  I just got TIRED of paying out THAT much money every month and for years just to enable telemarketers to torture me EVERY day with their incessant calls which interrupted my dinner EVERY night.  Put my name on the Do Not Call List?  What a joke.  I did that, DID NOT WORK.

However, one reason I did keep my landline was for those times which I had to call a Help desk.  You know how that works folks.  Usually when you get on a Help line you're on there for at least a half an hour and often times more.  Believe me folks, I have a LOT of experience with using the Help Line. 

So here's what happened this morning folks.  I lost my Internet connection with my Bose Wave radio. Panic Time folks!  I LOVE my Bose Wave radio.  I often use the Antiques Beat station for my background music when I'm writing my blogs and playing online Facebook Scrabble.  Oh yes folks, I'm playing an online game now.

My new Bose Wave radio - my buddy!


What the problem was that my WiFi connection wasn't connecting.  How does that affect my iPhone?  I monitor the station to choose individual songs.  This morning, for some unknown reason my iPhone app for my Bose Wave radio wasn't working.  So how was I going to call the Bose Help line and still work my iPhone?  Hmmmmm.

Viola!  I would use Bill's phone, which I am also paying for and also has UNLIMITED time on it since it is OLD.  

So that's what I did folks.  I called the Bose Help line and told "Tom" my problem.  I listened to "Tom" give me instructions as to what to do on my iPhone to regain the use of my Bose app.  And you know what folks?  It worked!  In fact it worked better than cradling my landline phone, which is hooked by a cord, while I maneuvered around my home office between my iPhone and Bose Wave radio where I had to push some buttons on the back of the radio.  

IT WORKED!!!

This morning proved that I don't need a landline.  

You know folks, immediately after I had Verizon disconnect my phone I felt like I had a tremendous burden lifted from my shoulders.  But I still had a lingering worry "What happens the next time I call a Help line?"  This morning I found out.  

Free at last folks!  FREE!

By the way, I arranged with my bank this morning to transfer $60 a month from my money market account to my account at E*Trade.  I'm going to make good use of that money that I was wasting all those years by investing it.  And guess what? I won't be investing in Verizon because landline are going to go the way of dinosaurs. 



GONE BABY, GONE.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Gone Baby Gone!

Some of our telephones soon to find a home at a local thrift store

Today I made a decision that I have been mulling over for years, I got rid of my landline.

Folks, this wasn't an easy decision. But I had to make it.  99.8% of the calls I receive on my landline were from telemarketers ("Credit Card Services of America - "this is your last chance!"), charities (American Cancer Society, Fraternal Order of Police, et al)l and political robo calls.

Telemarketers, the bane of our existence in our modern day society

You ask "Weren't you on the Do Not Call List?"  Of course.  But as you know folks (and I'm sure most of you are also on it), 

IT.DOESN'T.WORK.

Folks, I have lost count of the thousands of times I have answered the phone at around 6:00 PM only to hear a "Click!".  That's a computer checking to make sure someone is at home so the telemarketer can call later. 

The solution, REMOVE THE PHONE

How many times have I received phone calls from "Credit Card Services of America" informing me this was the LAST time they were offering me the "opportunity" to switch my credit card balances to their scam company.  I push the "0" button on my phone to get a live person only to have them hang up on me when I ask them to take me off of their calling list.  Countless times folks, countless times.  But no more. 

Then there are all the calls from the charities.  The deep voiced man calling from the Fraternal Order of Police (always a "butch" voice when THE POLICE call - which by the way isn't THE POLICE but a company that takes up to 97% of the funds they raise for themselves, giving the FOP only about 3%).  

Oh, and I almost forgot.  There are the calls incoming me "You have been chosen . . . . " or "You have won!"  Yeah, right.



Yesterday I received a call from the American Cancer Society (another regular) and the FOP.  The FOP call was the one that did it.  I told Mr. Deep Voice "That's it.  I'm done."

Last year I called Verizon to cancel my service for which I was paying $59.99 a month.  They offered to reduce my rate to $30 a month, which in my weakness (and lifelong habit of having a landline) accepted.  However, during the last year the only calls I received on my landline that were legitimate were from the VA (Veteran's Administration) reminding me and Bill of our appointments.  I called the VA this morning and gave them my cell phone.  

So how do I feel now not having a "regular phone" in the house?  I have to admit I feel nervous but on the other hand, it sure was nice not to hear my phone ring at 6 o'clock this evening like it does almost every evening.  

By the way, I think I got a lot of those calls because I have contributed to political campaigns in the past.  And they sell those phone numbers. That's why I was receiving so many phone calls.  

Now moving forward I will no longer give to any political campaign no matter how worthy (sorry Donald).  And I will not give out my phone number except to our doctors.  And I'm even leary of that because I suspect they sell my phone number too.  

Folks, I have to tell you that it was a great relief not to hear that phone ring tonight.  Ah, peace and quiet.

Ernestine, I am in charge now.







Tuesday, February 23, 2016

My Neighborhood


Rich with "Samantha" and Bob with "Heidi"
Almost every morning, before breakfast, I walk the length of my neighborhood.  

I live in a Ryan Homes development a few miles north of Lewes, Delaware.  In fact, the border between Lewes and Milton, is the road that leads into our development.

All my life I wanted to live in a nice neighborhood. In fact, you could say that acquiring a home in a nice neighborhood has been a lifetime goal of mine.  

Some people aspire to be a great success in their chosen career.  Some others aspire to get married and have a family.

Me?  My goal was just to have my own home in a nice neighborhood with nice neighbors.

Folks, it has taken me most of my life to realize this goal.  

Growing up my family lived in second floor apartments.  Apartment buildings that weren't in neighborhoods.  

Walking to school I envied what my classmates, who lived in "regular" houses, took for granted.  A porch, a first floor, a second floor, and attic, a basement and a back yard.  I never had that "luxury" until my parents built a 1,100 square foot, three (small) bedroom, one bath house on three and half acres of land in the country outside of Downingtown, Pennsylvania.  

I was 16 years old and, for the first time in my life, I had my own bedroom.  Nirvana folks, nirvana. However, my happiness was short-lived because I was a senior in high school.  After graduation I left home and joined the Army for three years.  

From that date in January 1963 my life has been a series of apartments until our first house.  A row house in Philadelphia.  We didn't have a porch or an attic or a basement but we did have a small backyard.  Progress!

Then in 1980 we bought seven acres of land near where my parents lived in Downingtown.  Four years later we built our dream house.  We finally had a porch, basement, and attic.  Only problem, where we lived wasn't too friendly to two gay men who had the chutzpah to move into and live in their straight neighborhood.  Not all the neighbors were homophobic but enough were that made periods of our twenty-five year stay uncomfortable.  In fact, at one time our next door neighbor went to the township police chief to "report" us as gay.  She truly believed that by exposing the "gaywads" who had the nerve to live next to her (we were there first by the way, she and her husband built their house years after we had built ours).  Fortunately for me the police chief knew that Bill and I were gay (his boss the township supervisor was my boss at the bank) and informed this hateful ignoramus that "They have every right to live wherever they want to" which came as a shock to this terrible woman. 

We continued to live there several years after this woman's attempt to have us arrested.  Of course she nor her family was "neighborly" to us.  The rot continued with neighbor below who told Bill once that he made her "feel uncomfortable."  

And now we come to today.  

I decided to sell our Pennsylvania home and leave Pennsylvania because of their steadily increasing their school real estate tax.  We just couldn't afford to live in Pennsylvania anymore.  And to be very frank, I wanted to spend my remaining years in a more tolerant environment.  An environment where we didn't make our neighbors "feel uncomfortable."  

This morning, returning from my morning walk in the rain I encountered two of my neighbors, Rich and Bob.  Both are conservative Republicans.  And as you know I am not.  I'm one of those PROGRESSIVES.  But you know what folks?  even being the conservative Republicans that both of these men are, Bill and I are appreciated for just what we are, two human beings who are just trying to live their life in peace and tranquility.

I don't have a whole lot of years left on this earth folks but I am so thankful that for the few years I do have left, I am in a nice neighborhood.  And with some VERY nice neighbors.

Friday, February 19, 2016

Tear Down

My friend Ed Cage during better days, when the sun shone

Last year on January 27th, my longtime friend (since 1956) friend Ed Cage died.  


Ed, near the last time I saw him at his house - he was very ill with cancer

I've known Ed since high school. Ed was my longest gay friend. And by the way, strictly platonic for those of you who are wondering. My friend Larry is my longest straight friend.  Notice that I don't say "oldest" although both of them are/were my same age.


Me and Ed during one of my many visits to his house on Laurel Street

Ed lived in Pennsylvania.  He also had a home in Rehoboth Beach at 306 Laurel Street.  He purchased his home in Rehoboth beach with proceeds from his lottery winnings, which was interesting because Ed was a millionaire through inheritance.  Isn't that often the case? The guy with money wins more but I digress.



Ed in his renovated kitchen - I loved that kitchen - Ed did too - all blue and white and lots of light with the skylight which I suggested he put in
Ed had a nice, cozy home right in the heart of Rehoboth Beach.  I had the opportunity to stay at his place in 2005 while I was scoping out my possibilities for moving to Delaware.  While I knew I couldn't afford to live in Rehoboth Beach proper, I did have the opportunity to check out where I wanted to live in this area.  I quickly found out that I didn't want to live in Rehoboth Beach because I didn't want to contend with the summertime traffic.  But while I stayed at Ed's (which was in the winter), I enjoyed my stay.


Ed's breakfast nook in his kitchen - we exchanged much gossip here

Ed's blue and white kitchen bathed in natural light that I so loved - Ed did too

I often visited Ed when he came down for the weekend.  It was a comfort to me to know that I could call Ed anytime and ask him if he wanted to go out for dinner.  Ed almost always was available.  


Me at Ed's breakfast nook - I was always welcomed

When Ed died last year I told Bill "Watch, when they sell Ed's house they'll tear it down".  For you see folks, these days when someone dies in the cottage areas of Rehoboth Beach proper, their homes are almost always a tear down.  In their place goes one of the ever increasing mini hotels, which are rapidly destroying the unique character of downtown Rehoboth.  It's a shame. 

This morning I took Bill on one of our thrift store tours.  On the way back I said to Bill "Let's go into Rehoboth and see if they tore down Ed's house."  Well folks, guess what.  The sign was out front.  The demolition is about to begin.  


Ed's now vacant house this morning - the red sign out in front is the notice of demolition

306 Laurel Street, Rehoboth Beach - soon to be gone and replaced with a mini-hotel

The view of Ed's kitchen from the back this morning - the sun still shines through 
Bill looking in the kitchen

Bill and me this morning at Ed's house - his kitchen behind us

Ah, the fond memories of all those times I visited Ed.  Ed did have a very comfy house.  What is a shame, that he just had his whole kitchen redone a few years ago.  I loved that house.

Hey Ed, why didn't you just leave your house to me? I could have saved it.


Thursday, February 18, 2016

Leg Injury Anniversary

Me in the emergency room last year - in shock

Today is one year anniversary of my leg injury.

To remind new readers of this blog what happened at approximately 11:09 PM, on a very cold (5 degrees) and windy night as I left my shift at the hotel where I work.  As I was rounding the corner of the building after checking to make sure the doors were locked (something I do every night after my shift is over and on my way to my car), I stepped on frozen ice from a drainpipe on the side of the building.  

D


The corner where I fell, photo taken the next day when the ice was removed (too late) from the drain pipe)

Down I went, hitting my left knee on the edge of the drain pipe. 

I was on my knees, with the cold wind painfully whipping around my face.  I stayed in that position for about five seconds while I assessed my situation.  I felt my knee pad had moved to left of my knee.  I thought I had dislocated my knee.  Many years ago (1962) I had dislocated my right knee.  I was going to try and limp to my car but decided instead to take a few steps back into the Inn and get myself together.  That decision probably saved my life.  

I took approximately five steps to get back into the hotel and my leg just gave out.  I was on the floor, inside the hotel.  If I had decided instead to try and limp to my car, I would have fallen in that alley where the wind chill was below 0 degrees and probably have frozen to death.  They would have found me the next morning, a frozen corpse in the alleyway.  

But Fate had something else in store for me.  Interestingly my normal reaction upon falling (and I've fallen before) was to try and limp to my car.  I don't know, maybe my Guardian Angel saved me . . . . . . again.  

I collapsed on the soft rug in the hotel lobby.  As I mentioned before I thought I had dislocated my knee.  Thank goodness I had my cell phone (hear that my friend Larry who keeps his cell phone in his car glove compartment . . . off)?  

I called 911.  The rest is history.  

I was taken to the Beebe Emergency Room, only three blocks away.  Hear that my friend Jon, who lives in the mountain wilderness of Tennessee?

They assessed my situation.  Took X-rays that determined that I hadn't broken any bones.  And my knee wasn't dislocated.  

They put a splint on my leg and sent me home.  The only problem was that I couldn't make my lower left leg to work.  





The doctor at the emergency room suggested that I contact an orthopedic doctor.  The next day I did.  The earliest appointment I could get was one week hence.  

When I saw the orthopedic doctor he arranged for me to have an ultra scan (I'm not sure if that is the right term, I don't remember) of my leg.

When the results of the scan came back my orthopedic doctor informed me that I had torn my quadricep muscle of my left leg.  It would have to be reattached.  That meant surgery.

I underwent surgery.  Then I had a twelve week period of recovery, with a splint on my leg.  



I could not go to work.  

I was bed ridden.  

Thank God for Bill.  Without Bill I would have been in a rehab unit.  There was no way I could take care of myself.  I couldn't drive.  


I'm going on too long with this folks but let me just to sum things up.

I'm walking now, more or less normal.  My left leg will never be the same.  I can still feel the quadricep muscle, it is numb.  It doesn't hurt.  The only discomfort I have is the almost constant swelling of my leg but the swelling isn't near as bad as it was the twelve weeks of my recovery.


There were many nights when I had difficulty sleeping because of the swelling in my left leg.  Even now sometimes I wake up at night and the swelling has returned.  However, not near as bad as this photo shows.  Just a general numbness.

For about eight weeks (I don't remember exactly) I was on a walker.  Folks, I have a new appreciation for old folks, or even young folks, who hobble around on a walker.  My choice was a walker or just lie in bed all day. I'll take the walker (which I still have by the way).  



One way I was fortunate (I guess) was that I fell in the wintertime.  Would my leg be well enough for me to do my Spring plantings?  Well, it wasn't but I got out there with my walker and did it anyway.  That's just me folks, it takes lot to discourage me.  Stoic Ron.


Eventually I progressed from the walker to a cane (which I also still have, just in case I have it in the back seat of my car).  

Above is a photo of me in May doing my first Spring plantings.  You should have seen me trying to bend down without bending my leg.  he Great Contortion Magnifico. 




 But you know what folks? Even though I went through my own personal Hell this time last year, I am so thankful that I am here today to write about it and to look forward to many more days in good health in this, my life.



One day all this (my life) will come to an end.  I hope it's not a violent and painful and humiliating end but my life will end, that is for sure.  All of our lives will end.  Mine perhaps sooner than most of you who read this blog.  And that's because I'm an Old Fart. I have lived a long time and have had and continue to have a wonderful life.  

So today I remember this time last year when I took a "pause" in this wonderful life of mine.  Perhaps that fall was fated just to remind me of what a good life I do have.  I know this, I have a new appreciation of life.  



Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Daily Walk




Tomorrow will mark the one year anniversary when I tripped on frozen water from a drainpipe as I was leaving work at the hotel at 11:13 PM and fell, tearing my left leg quadricep muscles.  Thus I began a months period of recovery after surgery to reattach my severed quadricep muscles.  Regular readers of this blog know what a long and arduous recovery I endured.  Thank goodness for Bill, if not for him I would have been in a rehab facility because I could not walk for twelve weeks.  

These days I can walk.  I love walking.  Walking has always been my one treasure.  

Not jogging.




Not swimming.




Not touch football.




Not extreme sports.




Not biking.




Not surfing.




Not skate boarding.




Walking folks.  That has always been my strength.  My advantage over most folks I know who don't like to walk.  

Thus, during my period of rehabilitation I lost much of my leg muscles, both legs.  I also put on an unwanted ten pounds of flab around my middle.  There goes my youthful boyishness, a personal trait that I also treasured and had advantage over most of my contemporaries.  Ah well,  I guess it was time since I AM 74 years old.  And folks, 74 years old is seriously in Old Man Territory.  But I don't complain.  It is what it is and to tell you the truth folks, I'm having the best time of my life right now.

Occasionally I think of my youthful years, supposedly the best years of my life.  Tell you what folks.  Much of my day was spent commuting back and forth to work at my job at Mellon Bank in Philadelphia.  So often, when I was on that hour plus ride on the train, going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark, I thought "One day my life will be my own and I will enjoy the sunlight of the day."  Folks, that day is here.  Those days are here.  Sure, different physical ailments are waiting at my door, some sneaking in but overall, everyday I do what I want to do.  

I don't think there is any greater pleasure than to wake up in the morning and decide to turn over and take another half hour (or more) of sleep.  To sit in my home office, with the morning sun streaming through the window (as it is now), to take couple hours playing online Scrabble on Facebook, updating my blog, taking Bill for a ride, having a home prepared lunch, taking an afternoon nap, taking another walk in the afternoon, then having a home prepared supper, watching my political talking heads shows on MSNBC, and talking to my friends Pat and Larry on FaceTime.

I don't go out at night anymore except to work at the hotel two nights a week, a job which I also love.  I'm not killing myself working but working on my own schedule at a job that I love.  

So as I have written many times before on this blog, this is the best time of my life folks.  How long it will last?  I don't know but I can tell you this folks without reservation, I am loving my life right now.

Have a great day!!!

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

February 16, 2016








Hey folks, moving past the downer this morning where You Tube has overreacted and banned me from using their facilities because I DARED to have copyrighted music in the background of one of my videos, I'm going to post something positive now.

I was born on November 9, 1941.  

11-09-1941

Add those numbers up folks.  It adds up to 9.




Nine has always been a special number to me. 


All my life I have felt that the number 9 is special to me.  I don't know what that is, but I have always felt that 9 is of special significance for/to me.




My street address (which I'm not posting here, just in case some Internet Troll wants to annoy me) adds up to 9.  




Many other of my life events add up to nine.  

Now here is something very interesting.  My new friend Pat, has a similar situation.  His number is 8.  




Pat has a special significance in my life.  All my life I've been looking for a friend like Pat.  Someone like me who has similar interests and with whom I feel very comfortable. Not to minimize my Life Partner and now husband of 52 years Bill.  I love Bill and we will always be together but the fact is, that Bill and I have very little in common other than our live for each other. 

Now you add Pat's number 8 together with my number 9 and add them together.  What do you get?  9!




I don't know what all this means but today's date is 2-16-2016.  Add those numbers up and you get, right . . . . . 9!  

Hey folks, I bet this is the first blog posting you ever read like this. Even so, this number 9 that keeps reappearing in my life just fascinates me.  

By the way, here is the Life Path of 9:


Those born with a Life Path number 9 are natural leaders, and they assume they are in charge even if they are not. If in a department store, people think they work there. They take care of everyone else but need to learn to speak up when they need help, love, and hugs. Nines often feel unloved or abandoned by their mother or father, or they feel completely responsible for them. It's hard for them to let go of the past.

People with a Life Path 9 are humanitarians. If your Life Path is a 9 you have an extremely strong sense of compassion and generosity. You are selfless and helping others is very important to you. You not only want to help others, but you feel very deeply for those less fortunate than yourself.

You are friendly and people like you. Your generosity knows no bounds, and you give freely of your money, time and energy. Your ultimate goal is working toward a better world.

Because you are so giving you may find that your finances are not in the greatest shape. You may also have a tendency to be scattered … your talents lie in so many different directions that you may find it difficult to focus on just one. If you are not following your Life Path and are instead pursuing materialistic gains, you could feel a deep level of dissatisfaction with yourself.

Number 9 symbolizes endings, spiritual consciousness. An individual with a Life Path number 9 can overcome a lot, and is often required to do so in their lifetime. If you have a Life Path Number 9 you most likely had a difficult relationship with one or both of your parents early in your life.

Life path number 9 is the number of completion and resolution. You will need to make choices, and not resist endings. Below are some key points you might want to take into consideration to help you on your path …

Your biggest battle in life is with endings and completion. You hate to see things finish, but you also are tempted to just end things so that it's on your terms. Just take it as it comes.

Learn that every ending contains a beginning. You might do best with a career that lets you start and finish multiple projects. You'll get better at seeing the continuum of the process rather than the beginnings and endings.

You may have a tendency to end relationships every time you encounter a rough patch. Teach yourself to see those situations as temporary. It's worth sticking to a commitment for many reasons, including just because you said you would. Don't always take the easy way out.

Gardening may be a healing thing for you. Not house plants, but food, things that have a season. You'll enjoy seeing the progress throughout the year and knowing that it is a constantly revolving wheel.


Pretty much on the mark folks.