Today in My History
Bev's 65 x 365
Cast (updated 7/16)
BECOMING AN ADULT
18 February 2021
I rebooted my computer this morning and, whaddya know?, the printer started working! I tried everything else to get it to work yesterday and didn't think of "kicking it" by restarting the computer itself.
So, I made an appointment to get tested for COVID tomorrow morning. I'm concerned because I woke up with a very sore throat, which I thought was because my mouth was so dry, but it has been very sore all day long, so I Googled "COVID and sore throat" and discovered that some people only have a sore throat.
Wouldn't it be ironic if I was the only person in this house not to leave the house in nearly a year and the only person to test positive for COVID?
I moved out of my parents' house when I was 18 and moved to a dorm in Berkeley to start school. When I decided not to continue school, I moved into an apartment near campus, because I was working in the Physics Department, and eventually into an apartment with my friend Gerry off Telegraph Avenue for a year.
I managed to run up a big credit card bill and borrowed money from my mother to pay it off. While I was paying her, I moved in with Mike and Char for 6 months and then when my bill was paid, I got an apartment near them, where I lived until Walt and I got married.
The point of this is that it was not until I was living in the apartment near Mike and Char that I realized I was an adult.
It was not until I got sick in my last apartment that I realized I was an adult.
Being sick when I was growing up was almost pleasant. My mother made sure that the sheets on my bed were smooth and fitted tight like they had just been put on every day. She pinned a paper bag to my bed for used tissues, she brought me juice every morning in bed and served all my meals in bed, propping pillows up behind me so I could sit up to eat. And she went to the library and brought books back for me to read.
In the afternoons, we listened to soap operas together.
This was particularly noteworthy when I got the measles and was in bed for a week or more, right after which I came down with the German measles and had to continue to stay in bed.
The first time I got sick, as an adult, was when I realized that there was nobody to take care of me and I had to do it all myself. Even when the fabric on the quilt I was sleeping under split and I was covered in feathers, I was the one who had to get up and clean it up, fever or no fever. If I had no orange juice, I was out of luck. I had to fix my own meals. It was a terrible shock but told me that my childhood was really over and I was on my own.
It is surprising to me that anyone with animals in their life could be bored during a quarantine.
The business with the oranges and the squirrels is getting to be routine. I bought a crate or oranges in December, as I do every December, but we didn't go through it as we always have, so 1/4 of the crate has remained outside (since I had no room in the refrigerator), since the temperature is fine for keeping them.
The squirrels ignored the box for weeks, but once they tried one orange, it has become something that they get to every day. I never know whether there is going to be a partially eaten orange in the box, or on the patio. Yesterday afternoon the squirrel jumped in the box, picked up a whole orange, jumped out again and ran over to the middle of the patio and dropped it next to a half-eaten orange. This morning the new orange was gone. I think it was carried over to the box by the tree because I see there is an orange there too.
Oranges together with peanuts, which they still beg for and now take out of our hands make them more and more tame. Polly gives a warning bark if nobody notices a squirrel at the door.
As for Polly, I've noticed a couple of things about her. After dinner, Walt and I settle in to watch Jeopardy! and at intermission, Walt gets up and gets a small bowl of ice cream for us. When we get our ice cream, Poll.y gets a small treat. Lately we haven't been eating as much ice cream and so when the Jeopardy! intermission music plays and Walt doesn't get up, Polly starts barking at him, because she expects to get a treat.
Likewise, when I open the door where
we have our plastic containers, Polly wakes up and comes running into the
kitchen because she figures that if I'm getting a container, I am putting food
into it and there is probably going to be a larger container that she can lick
after I have finished the transfer into the plastic container.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
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This is entry #7634