Dishwasher Virgin

 So here at The Red House, we have a dishwasher.  I may have mentioned it in an earlier blog but - you know me - the lazy blogger.  I won't be going back into the archives to see if I actually did or not.

So.  A dishwasher.  We didn't have one in Allegan and we lived in that house for 42 years.

It didn't really bother me because you can't miss what you never had.  

That's not exactly 100% true because we had a dishwasher in the town house we lived in in PA where our son was born but we never used it.

So now we have one and I wasn't sure I'd put it to use but with encouragement from my sister, Lisa, I did.

Fortunately I was on Facetime with her when I ran it the first time.

The appliance people left behind samples of those fancy new pods that everyone uses so I popped one in.

Hold on.  Let's back up a second.  I forgot to mention that the same kind souls that left the dishwasher pods also left pod samples for the washing machine that look exactly like the ones for the dishwasher!!!

Can you hear the dramatic background music?

Do you see what's coming?

Yes, sir, I dropped the wrong one into the dishwasher!!!

I don't know which one of us, my sister or me, realized what I'd done first but the washing process was quickly stopped before I turned The Red House into a bubble bath.

Peter and I used spoons to scoop out the already-dissolved pod ingredients so disaster was averted.

Are you laughing because you've done it too?  Or are you laughing because you've never heard anything so stupid?

You'll be happy to know that I only dropped one can lid down the disposal and turned it on - wow, what a racket.  We had one when I was growing up so I had some experience.

And . . . I only set the smoke alarm off once so I'm pretty sure all the kinks have been worked out.

Life at The Red House.

My friend, Jo.

I don't ever remember not knowing, Jo. Her real first name was Linda but to many of us - she as Jo.

We were in Sunday school together although I don't really have any memories of those days.

I do remember kindergarten with Jo though and here's the photo to prove it. 

First row on the far left - there she sits in all her finery: black Mary Janes, cute dress with a frilly slip underneath.  See the vagabond next to her?  Yup, that's me.  Nice get-up, eh.  Check out my shoes and socks.  I obviously wasn't paying attention to the photographer.  Too busy talking to the poor child at my side.  See how she's trying to ignore me?

Jo and I spent our elementary years in different buildings but continued to hang out at church.

Junior high and high school saw us having a lot of fun together.  Some of that fun will go unmentioned as I don't believe the statute of limitations has expired on a few of those escapades yet. 

Our kids were friends and Jo and I were always competing for Mother of the Year which neither of us ever won.

I have a lifetime of memories of Jo.  She was quiet, a bit shy and proud with a heart of gold and a wicked sense of humor all rolled into one tiny body.

I spent as much time as I could with Jo as her Alzheimer Adventure progressed.  We sat in my backyard, we went on walks and many car rides.  

When Covid came along our visits turned into "through the window" chats and a few through the fence outside on the patio off her unit at Briarwood.

In the early stages of her diagnosis Jo expressed her desire to die.  I understood and told her so.

Now her wish has come true and no one could possibly be happier than my friend, Jo.
 

Dreams

 Dreams are interesting.  I think everyone dreams - even dogs.  Have you ever heard someone say "I never dream?"  I bet they do, they just don't remember.

Have you ever awakened in the night after a dream and thought "I'll remember this one cuz it's a doozy" only to completely forget it - and then have it resurface later in the day?

There must be a reason we dream.  They must come from somewhere. Anxiety?  Frustration, anger, joy, etc?

Before I go any further on this topic, I'll tell you I really don't believe people visit me in my dreams.  I dream about a lot of people, dead and alive, but visit?  No. Not in a ghosty kinda way.

I had a dream about someone in our community last night and it wasn't a good dream.  This person had just gotten a diagnosis of a terminal illness.  Upon hearing this news I was distraught.  I mean I went into a total body cry - in the dream.    

I know this person but not well so it's interesting that my dream reaction so was severe.  I think I can track down the catalyst for the subject matter, though.  Another person in our community was seriously injured recently and is still hospitalized.  

Weird how that wasn't the person I dreamed about, though.

I'm sure many, many people have those recurring dreams about "school", etc.  Can't find your locker.  Can't remember the combination, etc.  I know I did but they have disappeared from my repertoire now.

Has death stepped in to take their place? hmmmm

I had a question when I decided to write this particular blog and I'll ask it now.

Do I tell the person about my dream regarding the bad health news?

No, of course not.  If it had been a happy dream or a silly one, yes.

Many years ago I had a really realistic dream about a friend who had died suddenly and young.  We hugged in the dream.  I put my hands on his face and asked him if he was happy.  He responded with a nod and a smile.

His wife was a good friend of mine and I only debated a few minutes before I called to tell her about my dream. 

It gave her comfort.

Dreams.  Weird vignettes. Take from them what you will. 

 

Last names - wow!

 There is a wonderful man (Hi, Vince) that lives here at Hidden Creek that is nice enough to keep an updated residents list.  He includes email addresses, phone numbers and street addresses - if they so choose.

Our community is really growing and this directory helps a lot.  

I've been concentrating on meeting people here at HC.  If they are out in the yard or on the porch, I approach and introduce myself. And if they have a dog I always ask the pooch's name.

So far no one has thrown a rotten tomato my way.

All the meeting and greeting has only involved first names.  My memory bank has limited space so last names don't even enter into the social realm.

We had a get-together on Memorial Day and thankfully there were name tags.  I noticed, however, that only first names were visible.  I'm thinking I'm not the only one with "last name-itis."

The other day Vince did some updating and I decided to check out the last names.  

There are some really easy ones.  Like Woods, Rice and Gates but then they take an abrupt turn into Clendening, Hurula, Smeenge and Holtgeerts.  I could go on but you get my drift, right?

So as long as Vince stays on task and I drop the guilt feeling about trying to remember last names, I think I'm good.