I’ve not missed voting since I turned 18, except for in two primaries, neither of which were presidential races. I have voted in every presidential primary and federal election.

The two times I missed were because I was suddenly called out-of-state to stay with my baby sister while she went through Chemo. That will always win over voting.

Not to worry about me ever again missing a vote for that reason. I have one sister left and I would rather have another heart attack than go to see her.

The Curmudgeon is upstairs in bed, I can hear him snoring down here.

He’s competing with Gavin who is rattling his crate with his snores.

Then there’s Lucy, buried in her blanket on the couch, getting her snores in too.

Meanwhile, I am wide awake.

Nothing says comfort more than a decadent dessert and some retail therapy.

Let’s begin with the decadent dessert served at Ruby Tuesday’s…

White Chocolate Cherry Cheesecake
Rich and creamy cheesecake with chocolate chunks layered with a white chocolate cherry mousse, all atop a chocolate crumb crust.

G and I often say, we should just get a dessert. By the time we finish our lunches we’re too full for a dessert. Since we both needed some true comfort yesterday, we indulged ourselves. Coffee and White Chocolate Cherry Cheesecake to die for.

Followed by retail therapy. We actually didn’t buy a lot, but we did a lot of window shopping.

This is a straight out thank you to my neighbor Jose.

He came over yesterday, checked and switched around some of the connections between the TV and DVD player, and got it working again!

The Curmudgeon is tickled. He can now watch the tall stack of DVDs he hasn’t been able to watch.

I’m happy because there are a few there that I want to see too.

I see a movie marathon in our future.

My best friend had a very bad day. She called the house just as I was unloading the groceries from my car. The Curmudgeon talked to her for a couple of minutes. He told me she was crying.

I quickly put away our groceries.

Done, I headed out the door.

“Where are you going?” The Curmudgeon asked.

“I’m going to go hug my best friend. I hear she needs one.”

Yesterday, G and I made a pet store run to get dog food and cookies.

While in the shopping center, I thought I’d look for some laminating sheets, since I can’t find the ones I know I have here somewhere. She suggested the dollar store.

We didn’t find what I needed but she found some hand sanitizer she needed so stopping in there didn’t seem like a total waste.

Standing in the check out line with her we overheard the lady in front of us say she had a cleaning business.

As she headed for the door I asked her if she had a card.

She did.

We might be able to get our attic cleaned up from the roofer’s mess and maybe even get the house spring cleaned so all I need do is keep up with the dirt.

I hope we can afford her.

To convince me to pack up and move. All I really need is a cleaning and packing crew, a painting crew, and a yard crew to get this house in shape to sell and I’d be putting it on the market tomorrow.

I’ve had enough of the winters. I never minded them until I had the heart attack. Now I straight up hate winter weather.

The cold makes me ache to my bones now.

It wouldn’t take much to get me to leave, just enough money to live on and a home on or near a beach. A warm beach.

The Curmudgeon takes issue with my attitude but I’ve put up with this house for almost 43 years with much of the promised work never done. I am sick of this house and the new direction (noisy renters) this once peaceful neighborhood is going.

The Curmudgeon seldom leaves the house as it is so him sitting in a home in AC, on a beach, wouldn’t matter to him as long as he had his TV.

Someone told me we couldn’t move because he’d miss his friends. Maybe that was true once upon a time. However, his friends never come to see him any more so why would it matter to him where we live now?

I have one friend I’d love to drag along, but most of the others won’t miss me, and if they did, they’d come visit. After all I’d be near a beach and who wouldn’t want to take advantage of that?

Some days I wish things were as simple as we always thought they’d be when we hit this age.

Me puttering around my garden, enjoying the peaceful zen of it.

Him enjoying retirement doing the things he loved like hunting, fishing, and target shooting.

Nope, it’s never cut and dried.

The Curmudgeon seldom leaves the house and he never goes hunting or fishing these days even though I buy him a license each year, in hopes he might try. He keeps up his gun club membership but I don’t think he’s been there in years.

My garden is seldom peaceful with the idiot neighbor who lives across the street and enjoys deafening the world that surrounds him as well as himself and his kids with his car stereo blasting at “beyond ear-splitting” volume. All because we nicely asked him, then not so nicely asked him, then threw ear buds at him, and finally called the police on him, to turn it down to tolerable levels.

Now if he sees me outside he cranks up his stereo or has the younger members of his household do it for him. Such a nice guy. I wonder if he enjoys being known as “that asshole.” I do wish the transient renter would move on.

Or I’d hit the lottery so I could move on….

We haven’t had a real bad day around here for a little while. I guess we were due for one.

Woke to the doorbell–delivery of The Curmudgeon’s Rebif. Just settled back down, eyes closed, drifting off, the phone rings.

The Curmudgeon called me from his cell phone. That is never a good sign about how the day will go.

He was down and needed help to get up.

For the next hour I got him up, helped him change his pissed on clothes, brought him food and drink. And what did I get for it? Ordered about.

I will take a lot, but I will NOT take being ordered about. I blew a gasket.

(I grew up being ordered about by my older sister until I grew taller than her and kicked her ass. Then I had to stand between her and the baby sister to keep her from victimizing her.)

After that, I got a phone call from my doctor’s office telling me I probably will need surgery on the elbow.

Then the vet called with the results of Gavin’s urinalysis…not great news but not any more than I half expected.

Keeping in mind an upcoming vet bill and a surgery, I checked our checking account and found us to be overdrawn for the second time in a month’s time thanks to The Curmudgeon. We hadn’t been overdrawn for 15 years at least, now it’s happened twice. SMDH.

Never let The Curmudgeon go shopping without supervision.

I need a do over for yesterday. Hell, I need a do over for the month.

This is not a good day for me anyway. Mary Wilson Bailey, my dear baby sister, I will miss you forever.

I updated the previous post for anyone curious as to what happened when The Curmudgeon called the insurance company.

What? Call the EMS number as they requested we do if we had any questions? No way, we go right to the insurance company, they do the work.

Long story short….The EMS company got spanked.

And…the taxes are done.

Warm weather approaches … Again… But, will it stay?

I had an appointment to get my hair cut. As I was pulling out of the driveway, I spotted a beer bottle in front of The Curmudgeon’s truck.

Running a bit later than I like, I stopped in front of the house and honked the horn (another thing I hate to do.) The Curmudgeon actually responded by coming to the door, something I didn’t expect but hoped for.

I told him about the bottle hoping he’d get it picked up before some idiot came along and thought it funny to smash it in the driveway.

When I came home the bottle was gone and he was winding up an extension cord. He’d managed to even charge his truck battery while I was gone. Wow, he didn’t spend the entire time in front of the TV.

Today’s T-shirt

Well, I had my Neurologist appointment yesterday. They actually called me and had me come in earlier to see a different doctor. The Neurologist (the one The Curmudgeon sees) who was to see me, had a family emergency.

Quite all right. I liked the substitute, she was a real hoot.

I spent an hour getting pinged, measured, marked, stabbed with wires, and zapped.

As a result we’ve found that I don’t have carpal tunnel, I have ulnar nerve impingement.  I never get off easy.

https://www.google.com/search?q=ulnar+impingement&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8#newwindow=1&q=ulnar+nerve+impingement