After spending an hour by the pool on Sunday, I returned to my condo. I spent an hour reading, and actually dipped my legs in the water but it was too cold to contemplate. By three o'clock the sun had departed the area and everything started to cool down.
Monday morning started off a little chilly. Everyone appeared to be in seasonably good cheer, and the normal "Can you get this done before the holidays?", phone calls were received, along with the "Are you open on....?" enquiries.
I could not reach my mother on her phone, so I called the ward. I spoke to a nurse who appeared to know nothing. A little later, I spoke to my sister, who informed me that the female to whom I had spoken was in fact a doctor, who just happened to be sitting by the phone when I rang. She was quite apologetic when she found out a doctor had not called, as requested.
The evening was still cool, but the following day was going to be slightly warmer. I rose early Tuesday full of purpose. I had not yet made my gingerbread men, and I was running out of time. I made the dough, and after rolling, cut out the men. I had found some glittering sugars in my cupboard. I had bought them by the ounce some time ago, and had never quite known why. It made sense, at this time of year, to use them and so the meringue mixture was made with half ordinary sugar and half sparkling. It was a whim! By the time Samantha arrived and we went on our walk, the meringues were out of the oven and the men were ready to go in.
An email appeared in my 'in box' from a flower company I use from time to time, when wanting to send blooms to family and friends in England. They had a special offer on wine. It looked too good to be true, but it was there, in black and white! Or red and white to be more precise! I had sent Rick and Steph some 'retro' sweets, and thought this might be a nice treat. I completed the details, paid and received confirmation that my order had gone through. "If it looks too good to be true.....", was the phrase that came to mind when I opened the next email which welcomed me to the 'Wine Club'. I sent a reply, immediately, cancelling my order and subscription and instantly received another email, letting me know they would respond to said email in two to three working days. I found a phone number and called. "You are number 35 in the queue". Perhaps I was not the only one who thought it was too good to be true. "You are number 29 in the queue", the lady told me. I managed to cancel the monthly payment on my bank account. "You are number 25 in the queue", the electronic voice told me. How could I have not looked at the small print. "You are number 19 in the queue", yawned the lady. Eventually, I was number 1! "Welcome to the wine club. My name is (?) and how can I help you". I took a deep breath and then let it all out. "I made a mistake. I can't believe I didn't read the small print. I want to cancel my subscription. I don't want any more wine". At the end of the phone, a very patient man sat. "Well, there may be some good news", he said. "What do you mean, 'good news'. I have just signed up for something I don't want, and need to cancel". He said he understood. Perhaps the previous thirty five callers had said the same. "Well, what we would ask you to do, is sample the wine, and if you still feel the same way, call us back". Nooo! I composed myself, and got on to my 'high horse'. I was strong. I am woman, hear me roar! "I do not want to continue with the subscription. I am calling from the US, and cannot afford another twenty minute wait for my call to be answered. Silence, and then, "Oh, you are calling from overseas. Well then, I can cancel it now! I am assuming you still want the wine though?" I was a little taken aback. "Can I still have it, at that price?" Of course, apparently. Well that was good news. All's well that ends well! How many of the thirty five got that deal! Probably all!
The office building emptied around lunch time, and our neighbours left laden with bags. We assumed they would not return before the yuletide weekend. My plan to pass around sparkling meringues, in shimmery pouches, was thwarted! However, upon my return home, I bagged up several little 'pockets', and put them in a box. My kitchen needed to be cleaned, and I set to before making dinner. It was a strange sensation not to be doing some last minute packing before a trip home! By the time I had finished clearing and cleaning, I took one look at the gingerbread men, and sighed. It would take another hour to decorate them. "Tell you what, boys. Just run. You are the gingerbread men that ran and ran and ran. No one can see your face, nor your beautifully decorated coat and shoes! Just run boys!" That was the answer. If anyone asked, they were 'on the run'.
Those who were left in our building received the sparkling meringues, and complimented me on my costume. I kept referring to it as a uniform! "You look very nice", said a delivery man, with sincerity. "I look ridiculous" I responded, with laughter. "No, it's very, um, it's really nice". Each to their own!
I had found a Christmas pudding in my cupboard. It was not actually lost, but I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to steam it. I had brought it from home a couple of years ago, and it was only just out of date. As those who buy Christmas puddings know, they will last a long time past their sell-by date. As Samantha's Tuesday night work out had been postponed, she came over on Wednesday. I had made custard, and she was staring in at the pot. "What is this?" she asked. "Custard", I responded. "What is the red bit?" she asked. "Tomato sauce for the spaghetti. It splashed as I was taking the custard off the hob. I thought I got it all out", I said. "Makes sense", said she. All the while, Cyndi, (Grant's mum,) was watching our interaction. "That's not custard", said Samantha, "It's not Birds". I told her I had made it myself, from scratch. "Then it's not custard", she said, as I had not made it from the powder from the tin, the kind she was raised on. "Taste it", I offered. She did. "It's custard!" she said, with great surprise. "That's what she has been telling you!", said Cyndi. We decided not to explain, as it would probably be 'lost' in translation!
The Christmas pudding was tasted. It was met with a mixed response! I had warned my dinner guests that it is an acquired taste. To me, it tasted like Christmas! It was delicious! (As was the custard!)
Dana went into work on Thursday morning, despite our office being officially closed. He had offered to go to the hardware store for me, but I insisted that I could take care of it myself. "It's my job to take care of these things", he said, but I told him I missed taking care of these things myself. (I would have liked for my 'ex' to take care of things when I live in England. However, as the saying goes, a plumbers tap always leaks, a carpenters stairs always creek! As he was a 'Jack of all trades', you can imagine the things that needed taken care of! I became quite proficient with electrics, plumbing and all sorts of projects.) I took some measurements, and looked at the mess on my kitchen floor. I glanced around for more fragments of the blue dish, to no avail.
I went on my way to Home Depot. Now, call me old fashioned, but I remember the days when you went to a DIY store, and the people there knew what you wanted, even if you did not! They were so helpful, and more to the point knowledgeable! I walked in and went to the helpdesk. The young lady sent me to aisle 14, where a representative was waiting for me. Very efficient. She would also inform 'lumber' that I was on my way. The first employee found the pieces I wanted for my shelves, and pointed me in the direction of the wood putty and glue. I was going to cement the piece into place. However, before doing that, I had toyed with the idea of having a third shelf. Feeling confident, I went to the 'lumber' section. "I need a shelf cut, please. These are the measurements. Can you help?" A young man, who obviously had better things to do with his time than work on a day when most people were already on holiday, and half appeared to be shopping in his store, looked at me with distain. I had interrupted his 'chat' or 'texting', and he was not very happy. "Huh?" I resisted the obvious, to wit, "It's pardon!" and continued. "Can you help me. I need a shelf cut". Eyes rolling, he stayed in his casual leaning position, propped up against a trolley, and told me to go outside, to the 'timber' department. I profusely thanked him and headed outside. I did not need timber! I came back inside. Once again, I went to the 'lumber' section. After wandering for a while, I chased down the same young man. "I need a shelf. It has to be this by this, by this" I said, and showed him my diagram. "I can't cut that", he said. "Why not?" I asked. "I can cut the width and the length, but not that! I was a little perplexed. "I am not asking you to slice through the sheet of wood, horizontally!" I explained. I think the word 'horizontally' was too sophisticated for him. His eyes glazed and he looked around, perhaps for his dad, who might have more idea of what I was talking about, and who would take him home, and given him a hot chocolate with marshmallows, and let him watch a Christmas film! (Yes, I am being harsh!) "Look", I said, in my Mary Poppins voice, firm but kind! I pointed to a sheet of wood. "I need this cut, across here, and down here, to make a shelf". In his defense, he did not look like he wanted to cry, but instead took me to another aisle. "We have these", he said, and pointed to a long piece of pre-cut wood, about twelve feet long, and two inches wide. "That is not a shelf. I can't make a shelf from that", I said. Again, I showed him what I wanted, and again he referred me to the long thin stick. I began to wonder if I was making any sense at all. He shrugged his shoulders. Mumbling, I returned to the original lady. I showed her my diagram, and she walked with me to the lumber section. "So you want something like this but cut down", she said. I was making sense! She knew exactly what I wanted. When I was a child, there was only one hardware store in the neighbourhood that had a woman on the shop floor, that knew everything about anything. I do not mean to sound sexist and I know times have changed, but I was baffled as to how the female assistant at the 'help desk', was more able than the person to whom she had sent me to on the shop floor! She seemed rather perturbed that the young man whom was working the section was 'so dumb!' I resisted a complaint, or a comment!
The lumber was not deep enough so I settled with glue and putty. From the DIY store, I went to stock up on licorice and then filled up my car with petrol, neither having any bearing on the shelf fitting!
When I returned home, I set to repairing the shelf. It did not take long. With everything 'set', I replaced the pots and pans into the cupboard, wondering to where the rest of the 'blue dish' had disappeared. Then I remembered. The dish had cracked in half some time ago, and when I threw it away, I recalled there being a bit missing! Thus ended the mystery of the blue dish! Not very exciting!
Around twelve, Samantha appeared. She wanted me to dye her hair. I agreed. Grant and Dana showed up a little while later, and played pool. My new neighbour had moved in on Tuesday and I wondered at her reaction. We are known as the 'quiet' couple. We make no noise, have few visitors, live mainly upstairs where the computers and television are, and use the living room for drinking coffee, reading and 'us' time. Since Tuesday, the noise coming from my house has been rather loud! We brought the dogs home on Tuesday evening and they were less than quiet. Wednesday night was there was raucous laughter, along with a few games of riotous pool! Thursday continued the trend. I smiled to myself. I wondered if she would complain to the board!
I spent the rest of Thursday afternoon cleaning out my 'shed', by the carport. I dismantled two desks that prohibited an efficient stack of boxes, and made enough room for a bed, side table and perhaps a small closet, not that anyone would want to make use of it! Samantha loaded up her truck with the 'waste' and hauled it away.
Christmas Day arrived. I went for a walk, and Dana had coffee
waiting for me upon my return. We had a very long 'facetime' with Richard, Steph and the boys, and the little ones opened their presents with glee. Thankfully they were 'just what we wanted, grandma!' It was lovely to see the family of four enjoying their day. The boys had decorated the fireplace, and Richard (or at least I think it was Richard, after all, according to my kids, I still believe in Santa) had made some 'snow feet' in front of the hearth. Apparently, Ollie had not been able to sleep in his excitement. It seemed sad that next year, and one year older, the 'magic' of 'believing' will probably be 'for babies'. For this year, Santa was real!
Lunch was fabulous. We met Samantha and Edward at the Brazilian Steakhouse, and spent over two hours eating, chatting, laughing and eating! I did pace myself! Around four o'clock, for some reason, the restaurant lights were dimmed. Samantha and I automatically started to sing, 'Happy birthday!' However, no cake arrived. I came home feeling full to the brim, and then around six, we headed out to Samantha's house, where Edward had a Disaronno 'on the rocks' waiting for me. Once everyone, apart from me, who could not eat another thing, had their dish of popcorn, Edward dimmed the lights (from his phone) and started the film. Samantha and I started to sing, 'Happy birthday'. No cake arrived. It appeared one of the channels Edward receives on his television was streaming all the new releases, and we saw Wonder Woman, which had been shown in cinemas earlier in the day!
Dana and I arrived home at 11pm. We laughed as we have become quite 'culturally' old, and rarely venture out in the evening any more. Occasionally, we will stir ourselves and 'grab a coffee' at a cafe, at around nine, but 'making the effort' seems pointless just to 'make the effort'. Perhaps when the nights are lighter.....! (Perhaps not!)
Saturday was a normal Saturday. Boxing Day is not a tradition here. We headed to Walmart, and back to the warehouses. Christmas decorations and seasonal goodies were stacked up in aisles, on sale! It is the best time of year to buy swiss chocolate, and we stocked up on Lindt! Home by three seemed to be a novelty. For the past few weeks we have been out for hours on a Saturday, and I was glad of the time to just sit and do nothing! Despite it being a four day weekend, I have not deviated from regular routine, and was quite tired!
My mother is still in hospital, and once again, communication and continuity has been dire. Thankfully, the nurses on the ward where she is currently staying have been very nice, and not bullying like earlier in the year. The doctors do not seem to communicate with anyone.
It is a glorious day here, today, although it did start off a bit chilly. I walked around the complex a few times, first thing, and emptied a couple of filters that seemed to be clogged, by the pool. Raul is off for the week! Me, the pool cleaner! Who would have thought it! The water was freezing! I doubt I will swim, but I may sit for a while and read my book. Hurtling into 2021, I wish everyone a happy new year, wherever you are, and whatever you are doing, and look forward to seeing you again, in January, in ........... another story!
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