Every now and then the Memory feature on my iMac pops up with a nice compilation of photos and videos. This morning was one of those times.
By the way, I have my right hand main finger and thumb bandaged up so I can type this. Remember my cat scratch injury of Sunday? I'm having trouble healing because I use those digits and it hurts. I put some band aids on this morning and it seems to help. At least it's not hurting as much when I use that main finger and thumb. Damn cat!
Anyway, this compilation of my visits over the years to different waterfalls is a nice palate cleanser from my several recent negative posts.
The one "waterfall" that really impressed me was Niagara Falls. I had heard so much about Niagara Falls that I wasn't ready to be impressed but I was!
The first time I visited Niagara Falls was early on when I moved in with Bill and we took a road trip through Canada. I think that was in 1965 of 1966.
The last time I was at Niagara Falls was with Pat about ten years ago. I was just as impressed the second time as I was the first time. Pat wasn't impressed though and wanted to leave. I want to go back and spend some more time there, perhaps take that Maid of the Mist ride down below. However, I have no urge to go over the falls in a barrel.
The other falls pictures are from Toccoa Falls in Georgia, Bill's hometown of Toccoa Georgia. Also quite an impressive falls. Bill liked it too.
Waiting to be seen at my local urgent care walk in clinic. They know me well. No tick bites this time of something in my eye, just a very painful cat scratch.
I woke up this morning and my cat scratch injuries didn't seem to get better. If anything, they hurt more than they did yesterday. That cat got a good swipe in with his razor claws.
I checked AI if I should go to Urgent Care and they said DEFINITELY! So I got in The Princess and made the now familiar trip to my local walk-in urgent care office. Thank goodness I don't have to travel down Route One to the emergency room. Last year the local hospital opened an urgent care office in Milton on the Ellendale Highway (Route 16). I wouldn't have to fight the heavy, speeding tourist traffic and become just another accident statistic. I was planning on staying in all week until my urologist appointment this Friday.
A physician assistant saw me at urgent care and prescribed antibiotics for a week. He tested me and it doesn't look like I have an infection but best to be on the safe side and take antibiotics. He asked me when did I have my last tetanus shot. I don't remember. He asked "Was it more than ten years ago?" I don't think so. So I didn't get one. I asked my neighbor if her cat was up on his shots. She said "I think so." Not really reassuring but I'm going to take a chance and just take the antibiotics and make a mental note that I will never take care of their cat when they go on vacation again. She was worried he would get "lonely." That cat is obviously a one woman (or man) cat and he doesn't need anyone else's company and he so painfully made me aware of yesterday.
What happens when you try to comfort your neighbor's cat when they've been on vacation for two weeks. That is one pissed off cat.
My neighbors gifted their daughter who graduated this year with a two week trip to Italy and Greece.
They are scheduled to return tomorrow (I hope).
They asked me to check in on their cat. He's a spicy, overweight, neutered male cat. He doesn't like me.
One angry cat - right before The Clawing. He'll never get another chance to take a swipe at me.....ever
Of course you're probably asking "How is that possible? You LOVE cats?" Well, I don't have an answer for that except to say perhaps he's spoiled. His favorite people are her other daughter and the lady of the house. Both very nice. The husband has a golden retriever. I've watched their pets before. Their previous dog was never a problem. You know golden retrievers, they like everybody. This cat, yes he gave me a huge scratch on my right arm once before when I attempted to pet him. One would think I learned my lesson. Oh no, not me.
I know he misses his mama and the daughter. This is the last day of their trip. I tried to comfort him but he wasn't having it. Right as I extended my right hand to pat him on his head, he gave me a major swat, resulting in FIVE claw punctuations on my right hand. And me, being right handed, I need that right hand. Especially when I'm cleaning the algae muck out of my fish pond filter every other day. In addition to using my right hand here to type and wash dishes and garden and etc, etc. Not to mention those claw indentations in my hand HURT.
I think I have learned my lesson. Oh sure, when they vacation again I'll agree to check in on The Cat to make sure he has enough water but no more Mr. Nice Guy. I keep my distance from now on. I need my right hand. And no amount of trying to comfort this feline, who doesn't appreciate it anyway, is worth taking the risk of getting clawed again. Funny thing this, in all my eight-four years I've never been clawed like this by any cat. Just another reason why I'll never have another pet in my lifetime. And Bill was right, when I wanted to get a cat when we lived in Philly, he was totally against it. He said if you want to get a pet, get a Pomeranian dog. They're small like cats but much more human friendly. He was right.
Now how am I going to handle that fresh corn on the cob tonight with my compromised right hand?
Me dead heading flowers a the top of our roof garden when we lived in Center City Philadelphia July of 1976
These days I can hardly stand on a three step ladder.
Yesterday I came across a still of an 8mm film of me on the roof of our big house in Pennsylvania. I wanted to post that picture today but I can't find it now. I'll find it eventually.
I found them!
Bill worked at the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago. I can't quite match his feat. I just get dizzy seeing videos of people atop high buildings.
Yesterday I had a wonderful lunch at one of my favorite nearby Mexican restaurants, Tequila Real.
My former classmate Judy, who is in town with her husband and extended family celebrating her 65th wedding anniversary, invited me out to lunch with her and her two daughters.
They came by early (11 AM) to pick me up. I wasn't driving. because I wanted to imbibe one of Tequila Real's delightful frozen lime margaritas. The reason we were having lunch early was because one of Judy's daughters had a Zoom business meeting at 2 PM. I usually eat lunch at around 2:30 PM or 3 PM (sometimes later) but I'm flexible, especially where Mexican restaurant and frozen lime margaritas are involved.
Needless to say we four had a delightful lunch and the frozen lime margarita was perfection as usual.
After lunch, Judy and her daughters dropped me off at Casa Tipton-Kelly. I had a nice buzz going on from the frozen lime margarita. I brushed my teeth and went to bed for a long afternoon nap.
Something very rare happened yesterday. I was invited to lunch.....at a Mexican restaurant.
I can't remember the last time I was invited to lunch but this came as a pleasant surprise to me.
The person who invited me to lunch is a longtime friend and a former high school classmate with whom I've kept in touch with over these many years.
She's in town celebrating her 65th wedding anniversary. I had lunch with her last week when she arrived here at Casa Tipton-Kelly with her husband and some of her family. They met here prior to checking into their rentals for their two week stay.
We had lunch at another restaurant in Milton but it was so noisy I really couldn't have a decent conversation with them. It's interesting but when there are family visiting me I find I always gravitate towards the women instead of the men. Her husband, son and son-in-law, they didn't bother with me at all. I guess we just don't have that much in common with the guys. I have more in common with the women.
I wanted to go to a quieter restaurant like one of my favorite Mexican restaurants but her husband doesn't like Mexican food. I do. Except hot chile peppers, I like just about anything Mexican. Except fish or any sort of seafood. Ugh.
Another problem when we went to lunch last week, the weather was brutal. Over one hundred degrees with humidity. Brutal. Today the temperatures are in the low 70's and low humidity. Forecast for the same tomorrow. Looking good folks.
I wanted to go to lunch again with my friend and her two daughters. But I didn't want to be so forward as to suggest it since she was gathering with family. She has seven children and I lost count of the grandchildren. She had to rent two houses for their get together celebrating her anniversary.
She and her husband used to live down here in Lower Slower Delaware. Right in Lewes in a big house on the beach. When I was having my home built twenty years ago, she suggested that I could stay at their place while they were summering at their condo in Florida. I gladly accepted!
About five years ago I heard an instrumental version of this song on my Bose radio playlist. I did not know the lyrics but the song seemed very familiar. Listening to the melody choked me up and brought tears to my eyes.
"Where did I hear this song?" I thought. I racked my brain and couldn't figure it out but the familiarity was there. I thought maybe I heard it in one of those old Western movies where pioneers were trekking across America via the Oregon trail, dodging Indian attacks, the sweltering heat and blizzards to finally arrive at their new home in the West. I looked up the lyrics
"If you miss the train I'm on, you will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles, A hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles.
Lord I'm one, Lord I'm two, Lord I'm three, Lord I'm four, Lord I'm 500 miles from my home. 500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles Lord I'm five hundred miles from my home.
Not a shirt on my back, not a penny to my name Lord I can't go a-home this a-way This a-away, this a-way, this a-way, this a-way, Lord I can't go a-home this a-way.
If you miss the train I'm on you will know that I am gone You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles. A hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles."
Nope. That wasn't where I heard this song. But I do know why this song is familiar.
As you know I believe in the Afterlife. We're just here on earth in this body to learn. Our real home is in the Afterlife or as others call it.....Heaven.
Now when I die, and we all die. I know I've talked about my impeding demise often on this blog but it is going to happen....eventually. I don't know if there will be a service for me. A funeral or a memorial. I have requested than there be none but once I'm gone, I no longer have any control over what happens to mark my time on earth in this iteration of one or my many lives. But if there is a service please play this song "500 Miles." And preferable the Peter, Paul and Mary version. Coincidentally, Mary and I share the same birthday, November 9th. I knew there was a connection!
And please, PLEASE......DO NOT PLAY "AMAZING GRACE." I swear to God, almost every funeral or memorial service I've attended they play "Amazing Grace." This was particularly graceless when my cousin Bud died. He was the same age as me. He loved "Phantom of the Opera." He wanted that song played at his funeral. His caregiver, his sister, chose not to play it because she thought it would be "inappropriate." And yes, she had "Amazing Grace" played at his funeral.
Pat (or whoever) will take care of my final exit, DO NOT PLAY "AMAZING GRACE" AT MY FUNERAL.
Play this song......"500 Miles." To me, this is the perfect sendoff for me in this life of mine. Especially the Peter, Paul and Mary version.
Thank you folks and have a wonderful day and week!
