Ellen Marie thinks she's too young to be so full of aches and pains. Her cortisone shot didn't do much good and she's tired of asking her hiking buddies to slow down and wait for her. A hip replacement at 48? How can this be happening.
She's the second 40-something I know with replaceable hips. Was it something in the air during the years they were growing up? Their mothers were girls in 1945. Could it be an effect of the bombing of Hiroshima?
Alaskans are finding volleyballs and soccer(foot)balls on their shores as flotsom from the last year's tsunami makes its way from Japan; who's to say that I'm not seeing the tip of an iceberg here in Tucson?
Our favorite restaurant changed its menu. Our favorite dishes are gone, replaced by almost-kinda-sorta-adequate substitutes. The waiters and waitresses and busboys and hostesses continue to have the flattest butts in town, but that's all that remains of our go-to establishment.
A few other "old customers" have complained about the differences, according to our favorite waiter. I'm not sure if old in that context refers to regular visitors of long standing or those who've inhabited the planet for many years. Sad to say, I am certain he would consider me to be firmly planted in both categories.
The Arizona Department of Transportation is building a road outside our tranquil neighborhood. There was nothing wrong with the old road that a decent job of paving wouldn't have fixed. There was no need to enlarge it; even during the busiest times of day it never took more than two lights to get through the intersection. From now until September, I will often be the only car in sight on what was, to my eye, an unmanicured but delightfully natural roadway. It's being replaced by a 4 lane with turn lanes and fancy median strips and public art through-way.
Driving on the piece that's paved is heavenly, I will admit. The fact that it is a generic road, with no attachment to the native plants which volunteered to take up residence along its side, that makes me very sad.
And those plants? Those hardy survivors of exhaust fumes and temperatures in the 100's were bladed and discarded, left in unseemly piles by the side of the road. It made me sad.
Do I seem ungrateful, denizens? The taxpayers of Arizona have chipped in to repair my local infrastructure. I should feel honored and I would, I guess, if onlythe exit from my little acre of heaven required crossing this
Julie and Annabelle at AzDOT promised me that the graders would be out there by close of business today. They were glad to hear from me and happy to help. All it took was a phone call.
Of course, I took that picture at 3:45pm and the worker bees on the project usually head home at 4.
I'm making plans for a weekend in Chicago at the end of June. The Cubbies will be in town, and so will The Three Sisters at Steppenwolf. As I am busily making mental plans and cheerfully sending Little Cuter informative emails I seem to have forgotten that the kids work.
How dare they not be available to be my playmates? The nerve of their employment to interfere with my fun.... or the contemplation thereof.... the nerve.
And then I flashed to Sunday night's episode of Mad Men. I was as oblivious as Don Draper. Like him, it honestly never crossed my mind.
The world is reflecting my crankiness; as of 5pm absolutely no progress had been made on my road construction project.
I am glad that these are at the top of my worry list..... but still....