Senior Daze

by Katie Bourg

About Katie: Having arrived in time for the Great (?) Depression, WWII, and all other 20th century problems, I am endowed with long and varied memories. Writing classes have long been my home away from home. Other people's stories are fascinating, and sharing is growth at its best. Hope you seniors will join me with your stories. Try it. You'll like it.

As time goes by, I expected my life to slow down, but it doesn't happen. I haven't seemed to find time for anything extra I planned on. It isn't the same activities, but new ones all the time. I don't seem to be able to say 'no.' Sewing more, going to more meetings, and then there's yard work.

I never did yard work. My frustrated farm boy of a husband told me early on that I was free to do what I wanted in the house, but the yard was his. I grew up on the desert, and never gave much thought to planting anything that couldn't grow without water, so never cultivated the habit. It wasn't hard to resist; I didn't like getting my hands dirty.

This past year, now that I'm back in a house, I find myself wanting things I used to just look at. Outside of my mother's geraniums on the window sills, I never paid much attention before. Her tomatoes were the exception, but took an awful lot of watering. When we finally returned to her 'home state,' her thumbs turned green over night. But by then I'd been told to stay out of my husband's pea patch.

This spring I found myself wandering through the back door of Fred Meyer and picking up little red geraniums. I wanted some white ones too, but I guess I waited too long, and never found any. I did get some light pink impatiens and some lobelia. And I finally formed the habit of running out early morning and watering everything--including myself. I haven't learned to handle the hose with any grace. I return several times a day, just to look at things and tell them to keep growing. I think they are listening.

It is not just the yard that has me so busy. I'm out of the house almost daily. My friend Kaye and I were talking about that while on the road today. We are both of an age beyond our parents' slow down point. We decided that being so busy had something to do with not getting old so soon. We've either been incredibly lucky, or we must be doing something right. Don't plan to change. Next week we are going to sing with the funny pianos on the streets of Everett.

Last Tuesday night was the annual 'Night Out for Crime,' and our neighborhood had a great pot luck. It was a lot of tasty choices, which cost me a fine the next morning at my TOPS meeting. But it was worth it. And I have a year to mend my ways. Met more good neighbors. Village Green is a nice place to be.

Charlie the cat has been giving me a problem. He was supposed to be an inside cat. He isn't following the rules very well. Come winter, he's in for a shock. The doors will not be open. I'm putting in new windows in a couple of weeks, and hoping to lower my PUD bills.

Even if I wasn't unhappy with the cost of heating, I would feel this was the thing to do. Our planet is talking to us about our wasteful behavior. We better start listening.

And I'm a little bit puzzled about what the police can and cannot do these days. My neighbor across the street has long been bothered by someone camping in the back yard adjoining hers. It is a duplex type house, with separate owners on each side. There is no land, just a fence between. The camper is not a family member, apparently. His presence along with computer parts and various smells has long been upsetting. Because the owners of the other half of the building have not asked him to leave, the police cannot walk onto the property.

Yesterday, I stepped out to go singing and found two police cars alongside my yard. The young man was in restraints and being placed in one of the police cars. I sat in my car awhile, not knowing whether I should leave or not. Finally did, and was told later he probably will be back in a day of two.

My neighbor is pretty upset, and wondering if she should sell. Personally, I'm not bothered by this person's presence, but wonder how long before someone else starts doing something similar. Doesn't seem a very good thing to get started in the neighborhood. It could grow. Even Charlie the Cat doesn't hang up tarps and computer antennae. Nor does he usually sleep under the stars. When I can catch him, he is still locked in at night.

Lunch was good at the Stillaguamish Senior Center on Friday last. So was the music. Gerry Albin and his guitar had the crowd singing with him. He's been there before. Look forward to seeing him again. I was singing all the way home.

And my TOPS club had a very successful garage sale a couple of weeks ago. It was in Angie's farmyard, and we sat under her carport. I bought Angie's old washboard. My mother had one--it was her musical instrument in her Senior Kitchen Band. Percussion, I assume. Lots of people showed up, and that led to a number of new acquaintances.

I just love garage sales. I always find something I can't do without--some of which finds its way back into another garage sale. But it is such fun. I picked up an old recliner a few years ago. Kept my husband comfortable for a year or two.

I found some bargain fabric at Jo-Anns and planned to reupholster it one day. Didn't get around to it, until this spring. I only did it then because my grandson decided he wanted to learn how to do it. What he learned was that he never wanted to do it again. Well, one lesson is as good as another.

The chair turned out great.