AARRRGGHHH

Reader Dear.  It's not a concern that the world (in my tiny corner of it) is cloudy and gray this morning.  It doesn't really matter that things inside the house have grown slightly dirty and disheveled.  In spite of such factors,  there are still many things about which to rejoice:

After all, look at this:   The HM and I continue to dine well! Yesterday I put on mask and gloves and set out for two different spots where food stuffs are being sold.  Now, we're reveling in FRESH FRUIT!  FRESH VEGETABLES! DAIRY ITEMS! MEAT!  CHOCOLATE!  (It goes without saying [though you'll notice I'm saying it anyway, Dear Reader] we get a constant supply of eggs from the HM's girls in the chicken coop!*

******
When I'm tired of rejoicing,
all I have to do is dwell on the fact that the entire Planet Earth is in the grip of a pandemic.

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I fear I'll never sing the "Happy Birthday" song again with such joyous goodwill.

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Perhaps I'll never reach out to shake the hand of a fellow human being again with such abandon.

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Will I ever linger in the aisles of a supermarket again, reading labels...560 mg. of sodium per serving?! Who cares--grab the can of soup and run! (another shopper is headed my way [and coughing!])?

*******



U.S. Postal mail from the black mail box with the red flag*...will I ever pull it from the black box again without pondering the (colorless) viral germs with which it's possibly infested?

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AARRRGGHHH!
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*(Ms. Black, the [black] chicken  [photograph above], believes it is her private box [though she seldom sees it])

**HM carries them to the kitchen door like the precious gifts that they are.
I accept them as such.


...(to be continued)***...

***If all goes well, Reader Dear, if all goes well...

It's Very Possible I've Died

It's been nearly a full half-year, Reader Dear, since you last heard from me.  (Begging of you, may I still address you as R.D. [occasionally Dear One, at the very least?*)

Yes, it was very close to six months ago that I assured you I had not died.  In the ensuing months I tried most fearsomely to post to the blog.  I wanted to offer some kind of proof of my claim.  I wanted to share with you something vaguely interesting [if not downright curious, exciting, hilarious, charming, fascinating, perhaps even puzzling or a smidgeon boring).

There were birthdays, involving parties (remember such things?)
Then, too, Thanksgiving came and went, with its gatherings.
There were trips here and there with the HM (Husband of Mine, I remind you).
Arriving soon after the day of thanks was Christmas (the celebration of which, thus far in history, has always followed closely).

There were lots of pleasing concerts I attended.
I wished to show you animal antics (I hasten to remind you that HM is aka Horse Man, and cares for perhaps a dozen other creatures, some more entertaining than others)
In six months' time, the tenants who dwell in my small apartment complex have not failed to provide me with much to advance my study of human behavior (details of which I've been known to tirelessly share with you in previous posts, my Dear Reader Dear, if you'll recall).

Ergo, Now! I've said to myself on so many occasions during the six months most recently categorized as History.

Now!  It's time to post to my blog! 
I've said it so often.
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Finally, about two months ago, I trotted over to the Apple Store.  It existed at the local mall (one of those long-ago places of commerce, Reader Dear).  I complained to the young man who met me at the door.  "I can't seem to upload my photos since I got this new laptop!"  

It seemed inadvisable and pointless to tell of the demise of my previous laptop (Spilled coffee, I confess).  I simply explained that what seemed easily done on the previous laptop appeared virtually impossible with this one!

"We'll be happy to sign you up for a class!" I was told,  "Happy to teach you all you need to know about this new MacBook Air!"

Excellent!  I made a date!

The following week found me back at the Apple Store.  Lexus was the name of the pleasant young woman who would offer instructions to me and the three  other questioning clients who were clustered  around the table.

"The basics!" announced Lexus.  "This week we'll go over the basics.  Then, in future classes we will get to more specific areas in which you need help."  

"But,... photos?"  I asked.  "Will we get to photos in this class? I just need to know..." 

Alas,  I was speedily informed it was not to be.  All information regarding storage or transfer or anything at all having to do with photos would be covered in a future class.

It was disappointing, but I sat through the whole hour-long class.
Following which, I signed up for the very next Part II class.
"Yes, oh, yes!" I said, when asked about enrolling.
"I've got to learn how to put photos on my blog again!"

Exiting the building, I had a new spring in my step!
Perhaps just one more week and  I'd be telling you, Dear Reader-slash-Viewer about Lexus!
And that big old backlog of photos!

***************
Well, and then......something sinister and scary came creeping and peeping around, something invisible and possibly deadly!  All future classes at the Apple store were cancelled.  The whole mall, in fact, was closed down.

***************
Are you whimpering, yet,  Reader Dear?!

***************
(to be continued...[with a bit of luck])
Just to set the record straight in the meantime::
IT'S VERY POSSIBLE I'VE DIED!**
 ( I don't want to leave you with claims that turn out to be false!).
**There are other possibilities, of course.  I'll try to let you know what develops.


***************
*Okay, thanks!

No, I have not died,

Dear One.  Neither have I fallen in a hole or gone over a cliff or taken a lengthy visit to parts unknown.  I've been right here in this spot I call home, chewing my nails (metaphorically speaking only) and procrastinating mightily (alas, in actuality) and racking up rental woes about which to regale you, Reader Dear.  I will climb back aboard the bloggity-blog train just as soon as ever I can, I assure you (in the event you are searching with any degree of eagerness for that train to come chugging along).

The Soiree

It was my first invitation!

Ah, Reader Dear, just let me explain "The Soiree" to you (you know, I'll tell you exactly what it is).
Then, I'll give you details.  But here's a note of caution: Watch out for a slight bit of green emanating from your psyche before I have finished with my tale (Oh, Dear Reader, you know that's not my aim.  It just might happen, however, that you will be a teensy bit jealous. It can't be helped).

I've got a very good friend who's got a very generous sister who, once a year, throws this party for all of her female kin (her sister, those married to her brothers, her nieces, those married to her nephews.

The Soiree is normally a twenty-four hour event at the home of the woman who hosts it (I'm going to call her AH for Awe-inspiring Hostess!).   She is the one who generally cooks the exotic meals, and who strews air mattresses on the floor to accommodate sleep for all who attend.  (This history of The Soiree was all told to me.  Keep in mind, Reader Dear, that you're getting it second-hand information.I'm trying diligently to make sure it's all correct.

 Generally there are  up to a dozen or more women attending The Soiree.  The Awe-inspiring Hostess always has grand surprises for her guests (I heard one year she escorted them to a salon, and they all walked out of there with their hundreds of fingers and toes freshly manicured and pedicured, all snazzily painted, compliments of this superb hostess!  Traditionally, she also treats them to one evening meal out.   And she's always got a physical gift for each attendee as well.  Oh, my! 

Now, you may be wondering how it all came about that I ended up with an invite to this event!  I understand your curiosity, and I perceive that ever-so-slight tinge of green.  Here's how it went:

The HM and I spent time at a lovely rental house in Elkton, Virginia, a month or so ago.    I've told you all about it, Reader Dear!

While there, the HM and I issued an invitation to the very good friend whom I mentioned in the opening remarks (of this post, Dear One! I told you about that, too, you know!  [I do understand, things may be getting murky (the current story has several background stories, all taking place at this spot in Elkton, Virginia (just jump over all of this, Reader Dear [it's not all that pertinent])]).

Following that visit, Mi Amiga Preciosa suggested to her sister (the Awe-inspiring Hostess) that perhaps she'd wish to hold The Soiree at this rental vacation house in the mountains of Virginia (rather than at her own home where The Soiree is usually held).

After the Husband of Mine and I and our family had returned home from our lovely vacation spot in Elkton, Virginia, the Awe-inspiring Hostess (sister of my friend) called me to obtain the rental contact information for the house.  And then she issued an invitation for ME to attend The Soiree! I was to be the "mystery guest" about whom she'd pique everyone's curiosity.

Okay.  NOW.  You follow all that, Reader Dear?!

Last Friday evening at six p.m.:  I arrived at the Elkton house in the mountains of Virginia. The AH had informed me that she was hiring a Master Chef to prepare the meals because a health issue was  preventing her from whipping up her usual culinary delights.  Not ever having been to The Soiree previously, I was busy trying to conjure how one would hire a Master Chef at such a (relatively) remote location and for such a (relatively extended) event--hors d'oeuvres and an evening meal on Day 1; a morning brunch, a mid-afternoon dessert on Day 2; a breakfast on Day 3.  I did not have the slightest suspicion that it would be a fellow attendee.

Here's the thing I'd neglected to consider:  This family, does, in fact, include a Master Chef!  I was likely the only invited one who didn't know or have a strong suspicion ahead of time that Jenny (neice of the Awe-inspiring Hostess) was to be the chef! She it was who spent a large amount of time in the kitchen, and served the group of nine with fabulous and bounteous spreads!

Between you and me, Reader Dear, I wish I'd have taken more photos of the food.  But, I've got something even more special:  a post by the Master Chef!












To the left is the Awe-inspiring Hostess of The Soiree!
Because the weather was quite chilly, there was not a great rush to the pool following brunch on Saturday.

Above, Dear Viewer, see the Solo Plunge into the chilly water of the pool.  Hurrah for the warmth of the Hot Tub!

All nine of us--AH and guests-- spent a good length of time there in the hot tub.
We luxuriated.
We lounged
We laughed.
We were one big tub full of buoyant bon vivants!*


*Strictly my description, Dear One.



...to be continued...

Old Age

Reader Dear, has got me.  Folks seem to want to disavow me of my description of this new age.  But it's a milestone that I've reached, and I'm proud of it. (Er, you could use other words, too.  Such as, maybe,  Puzzled by it. Surprised by it. Astounded by it! Even, uh, slightly Afraid of it! Terrified of it!)

 Even though I'll concede that life expectancy has risen over the years, I still maintain that this new number of three-score-and-ten years that I've accumulated is a valid entry into Old Age!






























But be aware, Dear Reader, there can be  perks (other than being called  "dearie" and "honey" by strangers, and having the door held open for one when out in public.

On my birthday eve, I got in on a celebration with three generations--only three persons missing from this closest group of kind kin, who treated me to a birthday dinner!

It was a fancy meal at a fancy restaurant, with a fancy drink (compliments of the restaurant)  to go with the sumptuous birthday cake!

The birthday cake was equipped with re-lighting candles, I might add (always a hit with my crew of small actors!)

It was a lovely evening!
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Then, there was the actual anniversary of the day I was born.
I spent most of the day with Husband-of-Mine.
There was lunch in the city:

There was a unique sidewalk rendition of my song for the day, beautiful in its "Happy Birthday" generosity, played for me by a total stranger (whose mother seemed intent on having him perform; and me encouraging the performance, as well).

I also basked in a  birthday massage by this friendly masseur.










I was with this daughter-of-mine (the Dark-haired One) who had a masseuse working on her back and shoulders right there in the chair beside me.





Then there was this: a would-be Happy Birthday song sung to me, had the Itty-Bitty Actor not changed his mind about the whole endeavor.

Supper was with the HM at a favorite Asian restaurant.

In addition, there were lots of you (Readers Dear) and even some other  well-wishers communicating their "Happy Birthday" thoughts and paper communications and actual, open-and-enjoy physical presents (in addition to physical presence in some cases)!

Wow.

I'm thinking this Old Age thing might conceivably add up to even bigger birthdays in the future!

*****************