Dies und Da

Signs of Life: My spring bulbs are beginning to break the soil. Some are already a couple inches tall.

Yes Ma’am: My doctor is checking for hypothyroidism. After talking with me she said, “Well, go down to the lab and feed the vampires and I’ll get back to you as soon as we know something.” I secretly hope this is what’s been wrong with me because once on meds I can lose the 15 pounds I’ve gained since Christmas. I’d like to take off 25.

Nervous: I still haven’t heard why in February I didn’t receive two of the annuity checks I’m used to getting each month. $800 is a lot to miss in one month. My hope is that they’ll be included in March’s.

A Day Late and a Dollar Short: In my life I’ve gotten used to not having certain things that other people have at any given point in time. I eventually get these fun little things, but it’s always always after they’re no longer new and cool, and the prices have gone way down. For example, I didn’t get my first cell phone until 2000. I have one now, but it’s not one of the nifty flip-open models with cool ring tones, the cool display, or a camera. Just a functional phone. Still, I’m grateful to have it at all. I’d also like to have a new computer. I’m still using the HP I bought in 1999, which runs Windows 98, but I try not to complain for fear that it will hear me and break down altogether in rebellion.

I handle my car in the same manner, mentally. It’s a 1996 Ford Contour and the only car this family of six has. I seldom see it, and I’m terrified that it’s going to break down and we’ll all be up shit creek, and I’ll never again see what lies beyond our neighborhood. Not that I do anyway. Lynette and I have a telly in our room, but it’s borrowed from Debra and Beau, and it has no jacks for a DVD player, or even VHS.

I wish I had a digital camera so that I could use it for this blog, if my computer could handle it, that is. For instance, out by the (now closed) road, which is completely dug up, the water main that goes to the fire hydrant is standing about five feet above the ground, with the hydrant still perched on top of it. It would make a great picture, and I could make a stupid comment about a very big dog. I don’t care about an iPod, except that I’d like to make podcasts. I’d also like to have the equipment it takes to make this blog into a vlog (video blog), or to at least add some video to it once in a while.

None of these things are absolutely necessary, except the car, so I’m not really complaining. I have what I need and I have the compensation of a happy, healthy family, a beautiful marriage, and a circle of true friends, some who go back nearly 40 years. But sometimes, you know, I just wish I could know what it’s like to not exist on needs without a few wants thrown in. My life has always been about having things in order to live a modicum existence, seldom for fun. Still, I can’t really complain and I feel guilty when I do. I’m the kind of person who feels guilty when I have to buy a new halogen bulb.

Little things: Sometimes, something in the house will give me an unexpected jolt of pleasure, something that I usually pay no heed to because it's been around for so long. This morning my eye spotted the claw and ball feet of my wingback chair by the fireplace in the living room. I was instantly transported to the day that I bought it in 1997, and I remembered the quiet happiness I felt when, while living in Ventura, I sat in that chair watching the freighters pass by on the Pacific horizon. Look around your house. Is there something that does it for you?