Welcome to the Misadventures of Widowhood blog!

Welcome to my World---Woman, widow, senior citizen seeking to live out my days with a sense of whimsy as I search for inner peace and friendships. Jeez, that sounds like a profile on a dating app and I have zero interest in them, having lost my soul mate of 42 years. Life was good until it wasn't when my husband had a massive stroke and I spent the next 12 1/2 years as his caregiver. This blog has documented the pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties and finally, moving past it all. And now I’m ready for a new start, in a new location---a continuum care campus in West Michigan, U.S.A. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. Stick around, read a while. I'm sure we'll have things in common. Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Jean

Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Door Deocrating in an Independant Living Facilityt

I promised this post would be a fluffy thing about the various stuff people have on display outside their doors here at the continuum care facility where I live. What a tedious job that turned out to be. After walking the halls in my building and snapping photos, then downloading them to my computer, I cropped the bunch of them but for some crazy reason I can't get the cropped versions to upload to my blog's posting box. So please cut me some slack because my frustration level was getting too high to keep trying so you're getting the uncropped photos. There are reasons why I don't usually post photos in my blog and the main one being I've never really figured out how to get photos off my phone and in my blog without jumping through a ton of hoops. 
 
Now that that's out of the way, one thing I learned with this project is that nearly all of my neighbors decorate their doors. I don't have to walk past anyone's door to get to where I need to go---the elevator, the outside door, the gym and only two doors to get to the trash room---so I was shocked at the level of decor in my building. You'd think, me having twenty years of experience in the floral industry, I'd be one of those with a decked out door, but other than a Christmas wreath I haven't done anything to my door until after the election when I brought out my mini-billboard with its cryptic messages. (See my last post). 
 
We have such bright lights next to our doors it was hard to get a decent photograph. This first group of photos all have the use of a table in common.
 
That's a turtle on the bottom shelf.


A rabbit.

Weird plant cuttings and a scarecrow.


n
Bear

Handmade pottery.

Silk Apple blossoms.

This next group of door decor is in the wreath and door swag category.








Our fashionista lives here.


The last category of door decor would be better called "floor decor".
Dog with straw hair.

Owl with real pumpkins.

Straw Rabbit.

Cast Iron Scottie.

Iron Worm Sculpture.

Hobby Horse from the '50s?

One of doors I walk past to get to the trash room.

At the end of a hallway.
 
And last is the doorway of my across-the-hall neighbor who is said to be the richest guy living here. He's got three houses and several cars and gets a lot of deliveries that sit in front of his door for days on end. These are Wall Street Journals.

The other door I walk past to get to the trash room.
 
My latest mini bill board I put on my door (see below) may have gotten me in trouble with a MAGA guy who has to walk past my door to get anywhere. I happened to be by the elevator when he got off and he said, "We have to talk about what you're putting on your door." And I said, "Oh, no, am I in trouble?" Then I got on the elevator and left before he could say anything thing.  But I'm thinking I need to back off and play nice again. At least for awhile. I've been trolling him with my door messages since the election November 5th. If the tables were turned and I had to walk past a 45/47 cry-fest for losing the election several times a day I wouldn't like it much. Who am I kidding? I'll love it but just the same, I'm going to back off...at least through the holidays.

Until Next Wednesday....
 

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

The Mourning Period and my Door Decor


I'm sitting here wondering whether or not to write about the elephant in the room---the election. More precisely whether or not by the time this post goes live will everyone have beaten that poor elephant to death and are ready to move on. As I write this three days before it will get published I'm not ready to move on and the few people I've talked to about it are also still in the early stages of grief over the way the election turned out. But what can we do except to (sooner or later) move on to acceptance? It's not as if we're going to storm the capital and demand that our way is the only way it could have gone. Democrats believe that our elections are safe from wide-spread fraud. And now that it went DJT's way so does he. What is so hard to make peace with is the fact that so many people could ignore the sick and twisted lack of ethics and morals in a man they just put in charge of our nuclear codes. That fact alone clearly proves the democrats have the moral high ground here. 

The TV commentators are picking away at all the things they think Harris did wrong or didn't do or that Biden did or didn't do and I agree that the biggest mistake of all was that Biden didn't keep his promise to be a one term president. If the party had had a normal primary season it could have made a difference. But beyond that I'm not willing to concede much more wrong doing on Harris's part because what makes me crazy is that with all the finger pointing going on the pundits don't seem to put any blame on the low information voters. And they don't put any blame (or enough blame) on the fact the our soon-to-be president lied at every turn, talked out of both sides of his mouth and took credit for things he didn't do and he made promises that if he keeps are going to bankrupt our country. 

I saw one report published by ABC that said: "…estimates that to deport even one million undocumented immigrants a year would cost over $88 billion dollars annually, for a total of $967.9 billion over more than ten years." And when DJT was asked about the cost he said, "The price tag doesn't matter. We have to do it."  I hope those who voted for him remember that when the price of our food goes sky high because there is no one left to milk the cows or pick the crops on factory farms, and butcher and process beef, pork and chicken in the slaughter houses. We're not going to see the Proud Boys rushing to fill those jobs. And we're not going to see Elon Musk use his own money to foot the deportation bill. He's reportedly the richest man in the world and could afford to do it out of his petty cash account. He's a TJD whisperer now and he's telling 45/47 that all immigrants coming into our country need to have a documented, high IQ. I'll bet the hospitality industry will have a thing or two to say about that. Hotel and restaurant workers don't need to know physics and calculus and between them and the food production industry they employ the lion's share of new immigrants.

Tim Walz made a speech on Friday about taking time to mourn and when we're ready to fight again to jump back in "because there are still plenty of ways to make a difference in our communities." My niece says she's going to start attending school board meetings because five out of the seven recently elected members are MAGA republicans and book banning is a big issue in her district. That's the kind of 'make a difference' kind of fight Walz was talking about. I'm searching for my next cause and I think it will be the ACLU or something to do with the environment. It was a great speech and I would have loved to hear more from him over the next four years. He has that down home, folksy way of comforting people that makes it easy to recognize that what he says is coming from the heart. He cares about people. Harris, too. Her rhetoric is more polished but it's clear her years of public service comes from a place of wanting to help people. DJT never does anything if it doesn't help him.

Door Decor: I have this framed piece of chicken wire that I can hang things on when I'm in the mood to express something. I pin things to it….kind of like posting meme's on a computer only this frame can hang on my apartment door. There are only eight people living on my hall (including me) to see what I post except in the winter time when there are hallway walkers. Two are rabid 45/47 supporters and we've never got in each others faces over politics or had conversations over the issues. I have my Tuesday night 'liberal ladies' dinner for that and people on campus know who we are but we're all very civil to one another. Still, things slip out once in a while like when a republican made comment about shooting Harris and that "bitch" Hillary. And like this noon over lunch when a MAGA person overheard myself and another woman quietly talking about how sad we were over the election and the MAGA fan said, "Be careful what you say. In a few weeks everything will be great again and you'll have to eat your words." How can anyone be so naive?

On election night when it looked like it was going to he-who-shall-never-be-named-in-this-blog-again's way I posted three vintage postcards which were about Dan Quale but seemed to fit how I was feeling at the time about DJT. (See below.) The day after the election I posted a card of Tammy Fay Baker, also below. Currently on my door is a postcard of a Renoir painting (up above) with the words, "If you can't find me, I'll be in France drinking wine for the next four years." I'm tired of hiding my disdain and feelings from the people I live with! But I do promise to move on in this blog. Next week I plan to walk the hallways and photograph the door decor and write a post about how everyone has embraced fall around here. ©

Until next Wednesday!

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

The Mahjong Tournament and the Election Results


By the time this is published we should but might not know the winner of our presidential election. I say 'might not' because Trump is planning to gum up the works with charges of fraudulent voting in Republican led states so they won’t have to declaration a winner, and if they can drag it out long enough then it will be up to the party leaders in those states to award the electoral college votes to the candidate of their choice. Same playbook they tried and failed to do with the last election only this time they're operating on steroids with a money infusion from the richest yo-yo in the world---Elon Musk. But with any luck this entire paragraph will get filed in folder labeled "Worried For Nothing!" However, even if a clear winner was declared on Tuesday on election night, I doubt we'll see Trump concede the election and we certainly won't see the end of his drama machine until after January 20th is in the history books and we have a new president installed. God help us if he wins. Edit to add: He did win and I'm sick to my stomach over the fact that I'm living in a country that puts so little value on character that they'd re-elect a scumbag like DJT. 

It's been a busy week with the highlight being my Mahjong Tournament which happened to coincide with UTI which added a level of an anxiety wondering if I could sit for four 30 minute games and then beat out the other tournament players for a choice spot in the restroom line during our five minute breaks in between games. I managed to win the latter race that most people didn't even know we were running but I came out of the tournament with a score of five (and dry underpants). I'd won one game with twenty-five points in round two but prompted lost twenty of my points in round three. No one scored super high. Two tied for first place with 70 points each. Our sister campus took first and third place and one of our ladies placed second.

It was a lot of fun and a lot of work of which I did 97% of since it was my idea and about half the ladies had to be coerced, sweet-talked or strong armed into taking part in it. The only help I had was the day of the tournament with setting up the room and game sets and with registration of the players. Judging by the feedback I got everyone had fun, though. Everyone left smiling, laughing and thanking me and of the twenty in attendance ten went home with a prize that ranged from $15 each to $5. At least four ladies in our Mahjong group offered to chip in for what I spent on the tournament but I turned them all down. "Next time," I told them, "now that everyone has had a taste of what a tournament is all about, we can spread the cost and the work around." But I might not live long enough to see that happen since our sister campus is already talking about hosting our 2nd annual tournament.

I wish I could share some photos of the activities but the continuum care facility hasn't posted any on their Facebook page for me to nab. We all had to  sign a paper when we moved in to give them permission (or not) to post our photos for their marketing Facebook page and so I know those photos are always fair game for me to nab. Others that were taken that day, I don't feel right sharing because a few ladies living here are fearful of Facebook…and email….and computers...and phone calls from numbers they don't recognize. But the picture to the left is of me at the tournament, looking happy it was over and that nothing went wrong. I didn't work in the wedding floral business for twenty years without learning a few things about long-range planning and making a lot of moving parts fit together.

The photo to the right is a sample of some of the documents I had to create for the tournament---score sheets, table rotation cards, name tags, tournament instructions and rules and welcome notes---and the photo to the left below is of the registration table after just about everyone had already checked in and taken their packets. Oops! 

Our CCC's photographer was on site so I didn't bother taking any pictures other than these two. Like so many of the 'jobs' here in independent living, she is self-appointed. She and her roommate/wife are our self-appointed newsletter publishers. They both taught graphic design at a local college and they've spoiled us with a first-class, four-times-a-year newsletters that always include biographies of a few residents.

When they were doing a photo shoot of the winners and me at the end I hoped I wouldn't embarrass myself before they finished and I could get to the bathroom. I did do an E-Visit with my doctor a few days before the tournament but the medication prescribed didn't help. An hour ago I went to the doctor's office to pee in a cup but it will take 48 hours for them to grow a culture so they can target a medication more precisely. I was hoping to be able to swing around to the drug store to pick it a new prescription on the way home. Boo Hoo! 

But on the good side I finally figured out how to get my face back on my smart watch after the time change. You shouldn't need to go through so much frustration for something as simple as that! It took me deleting and re-installing the app on my phone several times and standing on my head while singing I'm a Little Tea Pot. This watch will take my blood pressure and tell me how many hours I sleep at night vs how many times I get up to pee but it does not like Daylight Savings Time. Go figure!  ©

Until Next Wednesday.