Best Friends Forever

We met when we were children, both eleven years old with paper dolls, coloring books, and we played jacks on the kitchen floor.  We shared our dreams, spent whole nights giggling, traded clothes, and created lifelong memories of wild adventures.

Time slipped by almost accidentally and we grew up together – still best friends.

We are still growing up together – and still best friends.

Kit gave us nicknames way back when first we met.

She was Kit-the-Wit and I was Dort-the-Snort (Dort short for Dorothy).  When we are together we still use those names.  If we are shopping, Kit will call me to look at something.  “Hey Snort – look at this!”  Sometimes I wonder what people think.

To celebrate the arrival of 2020 I received a package from my Oldest Best Friend Forever.  And here was my reply:

Dear Wit,  I now have a collection of 3 Best Friend books from you.  Earlier you sent  “Kindred Spirits, Forever Wacky Friends”.  I have it behind glass in our breakfront.

But now I love the last one best – the one that came today called “I’m Lucky to Have a Friend Like You” and I love the pictures and comments you included in the front.  We both look so young and beautiful.  We didn’t even know how young and beautiful we really were did we?

Then there is the 3rd book…the birthday gift…the laughter when you’re at “Wit’s end.”  So clever and what a reminder about the role laughter played through all our years as friends.

There are only a few people who can unlock what I call my hysterical laughter.  You were first.  And now son Corky. It’s when I get this uncontrollable unstoppable laughter to the point of tears.

You have been a gift throughout my life Wit and more thoughtful than I can ever be.  

You are the friend I loved through childhood and through all the stages between then and now. 

And even now in our golden-olden years I am proud to call you my Best Friend Forever.  

Love, Snort

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Remember?

 

When the grandgirls were little and came for a visit I remember singing to them.  I tucked them in at night to Mr. Sandman, recorded in 1954 by the Chordettes.  And there was the popular song from the 50’s sung by Doris Day,  A Bushel and a Peck, a happy piece from my own youth.  My best friend Kit and I actually made a recording of us singing, “I love you, a bushel and a peck, You bet your purdy neck I do!” They used to have booths in the old days where for a quarter you could have your picture taken and even make a recording!  The little record we made disappeared over the years, but the song still makes me smile.

Then all of a sudden I was a Grandmother who loved to make her grandgirls laugh.  They knew and I knew Grammy really could not carry a tune so there was always a lot of giggling going on.

My grandgirls are all grown up now and the tucking in days are over.  But last year for my birthday they came bearing a special gift – a pillow!

But it is not just any old pillow.

This one is a pillow full of memories!

And it has a home in the “kids’ room” where we sang those happy songs.  I love the memories of the laughter and the love, and I am so glad my grandgirls remember too.

And Kit, if you are reading this, “Thanks for the memories”!

Published in 2016 by Okmusix

 

 

 

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Year’s Endings

Elsa Heard a Noise

Gun Shots, Backfires or Fireworks?

The end of 2018 began with popping noises in the distance.  Elsa-the-dog is terrified of popping noises like faraway fireworks.  We bought her a “Thundershirt” (meant to wrap around her tummy to create a sense of well being).  The problem is we don’t get to it (the shirt) in time.

I suppose hiding your head is a good alternative.

More Cookies?

I started a new tradition this New Year’s Eve to celebrate Year’s End and a new year’s beginning.  I baked whipped shortbread cookies.  My sweet Canadian friend, Cindy, gave me the recipe for truly melt in your mouth fabulous cookies and I intend to make them every year for New Year’s Eve.

As my dear old Dad was known to say, “Delicious if I do say so myself.”

Whipped Shortbread Cookies – Recipe by Cindy – Made by Dor

Old Traditions or Old People?

Every year we replay the tradition of getting together with old friends for:

celebratory drinks at our house,

followed by dinner out,

followed by a movie at our house,

followed by champagne to toast in the New Year.

We aim to finish up at midnight and sometimes we make it.  This year, not so much.  We were all dozing off by 10:30PM so made our toasts and called it a night.

Something’s wrong here.

End of a Year and The Downtown Lexington Fall of the Ball

This year I hope to urge our friends to have a very late dinner with us in downtown Lexington, Virginia and then proceed to Main Street to hang out and watch the falling of our very own small town ball!

More and more people are doing that even though it only takes about 30 seconds for the shiny thing to fall.

Then maybe 100 balloons float down upon the crowd of maybe 100 folks who are just as ready to cheer and holler as all those revelers in Times Square.

 I am awake now and trying to adjust to the end of a full-of-surprises 2018.

Hope your “endings” were fun and your “beginnings” too.

And now wishing you a very Happy New Year!

 

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Notes from the Incredible Shrinking Woman with Big Feet

 

They say, “With age, comes shrinking”.

Gravity is the culprit and I am no exception.

I was once 5’ 4 ½”, but now measure 5’ 3” at the doctor’s office.  This explains why cabinets are higher now and the upper reaches can only be accessed by standing on tiptoe.

The truth is, I am now a shrinking woman.  This is not a huge surprise.

But did you know FEET are also affected by the creeping/creepy years

I have just learned a second truth about aging –

BIGGER FEET!

Because none of my regular shoes fit anymore (which I thought was because of the intermittent  swelling of BigFoot), I was recently fitted for new shoes.

The measurements were taken the old fashioned way you know by an orthotics expert who used one of those metal things you stand on.

Out of curiosity I asked, “So, what size am I?”

And the answer was, “9 to 9 ½.”“WHAT?” I practically screamed. “I have always been a Size 7 ½ to 8!  Are my feet GROWING?  No, your feet are going flat.

Your arches are falling.”

This revelation required some serious mulling over.

No wonder all my shoes are too tight to put on!

The old feet are growing as the arches fall  – a ridiculous/obvious fact with annoying repercussions.

For one thing I have a nice shoe collection.

It does not compete with Imelda Marcos, but includes:

Dress shoes in different colors and heel heights, lace-up athletic shoes (even though I have not been athletic in many a year), sandals in different colors and styles, boots in all their iterations, and all the various sizes of Walmart Specials to help during the BigFoot-Boot-Cane-MRI years.

Should I throw them all out and start over?

And how much more will these feet grow?

Maybe the solution is to stay inside wearing slipper socks until the feet reach maximum growth!

Life is full of mysteries.

It is my sincere hope that these Notes from An Incredible Shrinking Woman with Big Feet will inspire you to buy shoes with “give”.  Although you may not know it, your feet are definitely growing.

 

 

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BigFoot’s BigBlueToe

BigFoot was on the road again.

On the mend again.

Shrunken to a normal size.

Ahhhh!

And after nearly three years in and out of a Big Boot or hobbling around with a cane or crutches, or gliding on a knee scooter, BigFoot FINALLY started WALKING!

But wait.

There is now a BlueToe on the SkinnyFoot, thanks to a “maintenance visit” for a Podiatrist’s professional pedicure!

I always liked my podiatrist even though he frightened me occasionally with ragged pedicures.

But who am I to question the cutting techniques of an accredited podiatrist?

Note:  Old people tend to elevate doctors to godly pedestals of eternal wisdom.

On this visit the good doctor once again cut a ragged edge and managed a very jagged cut on the SkinnyFoot’s Big Toe.

And this instantly caused a blue spot at the base of the nail.

Ever so politely, I asked, “What is that?”

And the doc said, “You must have stubbed it or something fell on it.  Not to worry, it will heal in time.”

I took him at his word of course even though I knew there was no blue spot when I walked in and I had not stubbed my toe or dropped anything on it.

Old people tend to accept anything a doctor says, particularly if he is wearing a white coat!

And it was only a little blue spot after all.  It would undoubtedly heal with time.

So off I went to PT (Physical Therapy).

And the Physical Therapist immediately gasped and  asked, “Who butchered your toe?”

After hearing my story and since the entire toenail had turned a beautiful blue, she said, “Go see your family doctor ASAP!”

Metallic blue toenails are the “in” thing now.  And that’s how BigFoot’s Big Toe looked….. blue.

Hmmmm.  Do you think I should I go to a salon and get the other nine nails painted to match?

“A good thing you came in,” said my family doctor.  “Looks like a blood blister. It will probably be fine. But watch and come back if you notice red streaks going up the foot or there is swelling or fever.  Also soak the toe in salt water twice a day and apply antibacterial ointment.”

That was two weeks ago.

BigFoot’s Big Toe is still Blue.

Seems to be healing but I am afraid to wear closed toed shoes for fear of aggravating.

Will I lose the nail?  Too soon to tell.

But this much is sure:

I will lose the Podiatrist.

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Meandering Medley

“What is your vegetable of the day?” we asked.  And our waitress answered, “A Melody of vegetables.”  ~ Dor

Our Day 3 Rule is not working!

That is a rule in our house whereby I cook for 2 days but on Day 3 we eat out.

To reinforce this, my meal planning and end results go like this:

1. Day 1 – A fairly delicious healthy meal with protein, vegetables (a melody), a starch, and a fresh salad.
2. Day 2 – Still almost passable.
3. Day 3 – A no longer attractively displayed meal with a slightly unappetizing aroma, and no taste.  I don’t do this on purpose either.  It just happens.

And Bill knows we have to eat out!  Today is Day #3 but I think he has forgotten.

Saturday I went for MRI #5.

Good thing I handle the claustrophobia and loud banging noises well.  I always ask them to play DooWop music but they don’t really know what that is so they get “Oldies” which are never quite old enough.

Ah well.  But I am anxious for the results of this one because BigFoot is no longer Big!  Can this be a happy omen?  The swelling is waaaay down to an almost SkinnyFoot!

The trip for the MRI was also kind of fun since we found our way to a Roanoke, Virginia shopping center and had lunch at the Wild Flour Café.  Isn’t it nice that this old couple can still enjoy good food (not cooked by me!) and good conversation away from home?

Other happiness:

“Sleep perchance to dream.” from William Shakespeare’ s play, Hamlet.

Two weeks ago I had a Sleep Apnea Test (which they prefer to call a “study”).  I must say it was a tortuous experience but they called today to announce that “You do not have Sleep Apnea and your oxygen levels are fine.”  Ha! I have passed the Study! Hurrah!

I do understand why the dr. ordered it though.  He kept saying my tongue was too big for my throat or the throat was too small.

So we started with a finger test at home that didn’t look good but perhaps the finger was too small or the test thing was too big because they think it accidentally slipped off during the night.  No matter.  I sleep like a log – always have – and no snoring either.

The quote above about the Melody of Vegetables is true!  And isn’t this a grand and happy Melody of Meanderings?

 

 

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Happy Birthday BFF

Happy Birthday to Kit the Wit

This my oldest, first, and Best Friend Forever.

Her name is Kit and we met when we were eleven years old.

She gave us nicknames then,

and mine was not too flattering but has stuck all these years.

She is Kit the Wit.

And I am Dort the Snort.

I call her Wit and she calls me Snort to this day and she will yell out to me in a store or other public place, “Hey SNORT!  Come and look at this.”

I suppose people wonder about that, but I am so used to it I don’t notice.

We played paper dolls, jacks, rode bikes, stayed up all night giggling.

We went through the phases of our lives, first cars, first boyfriends, marriage, kids, aging.

And always laughter through it all.

We have stories to tell and memories to share about moon baths and sunburns and trying on her big sister’s clothes;  about first loves and grown up relationships and raising sons.

She is still always late and I am always early.  I am fussy neat and she is haphazard.  Some things never change.

But I still learn from my friend – the meaning of patience and finding humor in the bizarre.

The thing about Wit is her kindness and her eternal sense of humor.

I don’t know anyone else her age who has a big collection of singing stuffed animals and who joyfully winds them all up to sing (not in harmony either) at the same time.

How I wish I could have been with Wit this June 16th for her birthday!

How I wish we could “spend the night” again one more time –  talking and laughing, and laughing and laughing.

Once again, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY WIT!  You are still my BFF. ”

 

 

 

 

 

 

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To Go or Not to Go

Although I think these stories are to be considered “PRIVATE,” the fact is that  age brings a certain loss of privacy.

THE MIGHTY LEAP AND GRAB

Story #1 began with Dor’s BigFoot. 

Due to a lack of exercise maybe, or the fact that I toted  around an extra 4 or 5 pounds of knee high boot for many months, getting up and down in the bathroom became a challenge.

If you are brave, please Picture This:

We could not mount railings in our bathrooms because we have stand-alone thrones.

Therefore, I was forced to make a mighty leap forward to grab a door knob and then hoist to get up.  Fortunately the doorknobs held and maybe you could consider mighty leaps as good exercise, but the very idea inspired a a search for a remedy.

Our local Virginia plumber solved the whole thing!

“Everybody’s got ‘em now,” said he.  “They are the right height even for the young but very helpful for the aging too, and a whole lot of folks are replacing the old 14inchers with 16inchers.”

And so we did just that.

I almost wrote a blog post about it because it was our excitement for the year – waiting to try on “right height toilets.”

There, I have actually said the not-so-private word at last – TOILETS! 

Comfort level toilets are wondrous things and if you haven’t got one, I highly recommend going for it!

TO SLEEP OR NOT TO SLEEP

Story #2 is my upcoming Sleep Test.

I am a wreck preparing for an “in-lab sleepover” at our local hospital.  That is where they test you to see if you stop breathing too much during the night.

Evidently I am under suspicion for “sleep apnea” even though I do not snore, have no problem falling asleep and no problem sleeping 7 to 8 hours a night.

It’s supposedly a private room with its own bathroom but I understand I will be observed all night via a little camera at the nurse’s station.  And if I have to “go” I must holler out and wait for an attendant to come and unhook all the electrodes and wires.

I am packing for this overnight stay as if taking a trip to Australia! Bringing my own pillow, a book, my Kindle reader, several types of sleepwear, cookies maybe, and more.

I do hope they have a Right Height Toilet though!

 

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Fading Fotos

Years ago I created a collage

of favorite photographs.

I glued them in a haphazard way on top of a big old ugly $15 dime store print that once hung over our couch.

Even now I think it was a great idea and I remember pasting away and thinking, “How artistic if I do say so myself!”

I loved it so much that I eventually had the collage framed and was assured the priceless photographs were safely under protective glass.

“This collage of family and friends will live on through generations,” I thought.

And yes, that inventive impressive self indulgent collage is over the desk in Bill’s “office.”

And every now and then I look once again at a dimming past.

Literally!

Some of the photos are not only dimming,

they are disappearing!  

Many of those faded fotos in my collage were taken with an early Polaroid camera in the 1960’s or maybe even earlier.  The miracle was that the camera itself would process a picture and spit it out for at you.  Then you waved it in the air and blew on it to “set” things – or at least I did.

I suppose being under glass and exposed to sunlight would “unset” or affect images.  Or maybe I shouldn’t have shaken the photo to hurry things along.

Is there a Polaroid camera now with a re-set button?

I want to hit RE-SET!

The fading fotos from yesteryear are following my life cycle and we will all fade away together.

Are you watching your life fade away too?

If you are wondering if they even make Polaroid cameras anymore, the answer is Yes!  Instant film is coming back into popularity!

From Polaroid’s Comeback, by Mark Rogers, Photographer: “Polaroid cameras have recently been coming out of storage. …With instant film so popular, there are now once again hundreds of these small, square-shaped photographs around — and your favorites should be preserved and displayed the right way. Just like standard photographs and prints, instant film can suffer the same damage as standard film. However, a little more care should be taken when handling the still-developing film — according to Polaroid, the more closely the photographer followed the instructions, the longer the photo will last. Tip: Shaking the photo does not help a Polaroid develop faster. In fact, it could actually damage the developing photograph!…Standard photography preservation practices apply: keep the photos away from light, heat and moisture; most organizations maintain that Polaroids will fade in as just as much time as conventional photographs…”  

 

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Stuck Again? A Diabolical Plan

“Hello, Super Market Management?  I am in your store and I am in the far end.  You know, near the chips?  I am a handicapped elderly woman (in a therapy boot) gratefully using one of your electric carts but the cart battery went dead.  Can you help me?

I cannot walk all the way back for another cart.  I need a new cart with active batteries and someone to help transfer all the groceries.  Yes, I am by the chips.  Thank you so much.  I love it that you offer this service.  It’s a very kind public gesture, but for some reason the cart batteries always go dead.

The electric carts at my grocery/big box store constantly run out of battery power.

And this usually occurs on the far side!

Getting stuck in the middle (or far end) of a gigantic store leaves a person (this person with the BigFoot) in a precariously helpless, embarrassing position, stranded in limbo with peripheral problems like being emotionally distraught.

I am STUCK! HELP!

• The basket on this electric cart is full.
• It will lurch forward while emitting a weak sickly beep.
• It will never make it back to square one for a new cart.
• That means I must WALK (Limp) back across the store (for what seems like a mile) to get another cart.
• You may witness my staggering arrival at the cart area where there may or may not be a new cart available.
• If I am lucky and find a cart it may have a dying battery, and there is no way to tell if it will make it back to Cart #1.
• Hurrah!  It arrives at Cart #1 for a transfer of goods to Cart #2.
• Finally… leave Cart #1 stranded and,
• With aching foot and increased blood pressure, move on to finish shopping.

Results?

• Embarrassment
• Pain
• Anger 
• Frustration
• Fear of getting stuck again.

The latter fear has taken such a hold that I can only shop on one side of the store at a time, i.e., bar soap is on the wrong side (the other side) of the store.

Soap therefore, must go on a different day’s shopping list entitled “Right Side” or “Left Side”.

I also finally devised a Diabolical Plan (feel free to try this yourself if you are either elderly, infirm, or both):

1. Program the name of the store and it’s local phone number into your cell phone.
2. Choose an electric cart without too much concern for dying batteries.
3. Begin shopping and don’t worry about filling your basket. Fill it to the brim or higher! Remember, the point of this plan is to send a message to store management.
4. Be alert and wait to get stuck ANYWHERE in the #$%2x##* blankety blank place (preferably far far from the stable of carts).
5. Are you stuck yet? Well, if you are, then sweetly call the store from your cell phone.  Please, reserve the urge to rant!  
6. Helplessly plead you are handicapped and need to be saved by a store employee who will have to fetch another cart.

Will pity prompt positive action?

I haven’t tried the Diabolical Plan yet.

Stay tuned.

 

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