Author: sueatseventy

The Dress

I was going to entertain you with more stories about using one arm to navigate my daily life after my recent fall. But today I managed to put on my socks by myself, so I have moved on to greater challenges. Such as online shopping.

Peter and I ventured into this new world, along with many other people, during the Pandemic. One day in 2020, after we had watched about 8 movies in a row, I looked down to see that we had no coffee table. We were using a footstool instead, and there was no safe place to set down my coffee. Since flyers had been outlawed as germ carriers, I scrolled through several websites for a new coffee table. I found the perfect one: shiny black shelves separated with silver tubing.

The table arrive a couple of weeks later. We wiped down the box and all the parts with sanitizer. Then we spent a few busy hours trying to assemble it. Of course the silver tubing pieces were not all the same length; a feature not obvious to the naked eye. Finally we figured it all out and gave each other a big high five. It had been a fun afternoon and the time had flown by. What else could we order that would give us some pleasure?

I wasn’t as adventurous during the next few years. I ordered some books from Indigo that came as described, and a few joke stocking stuffers for kids who have everything. Mostly I just began shopping at stores again. We have a lot of them in our neighbourhood, from bargain basement to high end, and everything in between.

Then one time last year we visited our son and his family in New York for a few days. On the first evening as we were coming in from a restaurant, our grandson Ben asked if we wanted to see the parcel room. We hesitated – what could be so great about a parcel room? But it was Ben asking and we said yes.

The parcel room attendant welcomed Ben with a big “How ya doin, Ben? I got lots a stuff for ya tonight.” He loaded Ben up with packages and we carried the leftovers. In the apartment, Ben began unwrapping. “This one’s makeup stuff for Mommy. This other package is electronic. It must be for Dad. This little box is poop bags. I guess it’s for Toby (giggle giggle). And this last one must be for me. What – underwear? Dang!”

The same process went on every evening we were there. It got me thinking. If New Yorkers could do all their shopping online, why couldn’t we? So, when I found myself with one arm and no suitable clothes, I headed back into the wild web.

I was looking in particular for a dress that I could step into. I wanted one with big pocket for carrying things around the house. I needed mid-length sleeves to cover up my bruises. And I was searching for a colour to match a large shawl that could serve as a jacket. I found the perfect dress and ordered it on the spot. A short time later a package was delivered. The moment had arrived.

The first problem I noticed was that the dress was not the colour I had imagined, and the fabric was wrinkly. Then I checked the pockets and discovered that they were sewn in backwards. When I tried to step into the dress, I couldn’t pull it up over my mid-section. Then I tried to pull it over my head and I got stuck part-way. I began to hyperventilate and had to call for back-up, ie Peter. He rescued me and I calmed down.

So much for online shopping. I am going to spend the rest of my recovery wearing my pajamas. If anyone with 2 functioning arms wants a bluish dress with backward pockets, let me know.

Sue

Life With One Arm

It’s been an interesting week with lots of challenges; big and small. I have heard from so many dear readers who have learned to cope with a similar situation. For example, who knew that so many women, living in first-world countries, have discovered so many unique ways to do up bras with one arm?

Since tripping on Queen St a week ago and watching my left arm turn green and yellow, I have realized that my wardrobe is entirely insufficient for life is a single-arm person. I have only one dress that buttons up the front. My pants all have zippers. My socks are too tight for one-hand pulling. As for putting on earrings – forgedabboudit. Make-up goes to the bottom of the list too, and my hair gets only half-brushed. In this state I really can’t leave the house because who wants to see a wrinkly old lady in a wrinkly old nighty wandering the streets barefoot?

The kitchen is like a war zone – every knife out to stab me, every mug set to tip over and spill hot coffee, every package of rice overflowing from the measuring cup onto the floor where I step. Anything requiring 2 arms, like pulling a tray of wings out of the oven or retrieving heavy bowls from a top shelf, is out of the question. For added inconvenience, the dishwasher, loaded to the brim with dirty dishes, joined in the battle and shut down completely on Friday.

In the meantime, I have Peter. Peter is quite familiar with tossing salads, cooking eggs, making pasta dishes, and cleaning up. He is good on the BBQ too, and he knows where to find the cooked chickens at COSTCO. He has no issue with using paper plates. He even has restaurant coupons stockpiled! I am so grateful.

We also had Venus the dog staying with us until 2 days ago. She was pretty stressed when her Nana was missing in action for 11 hours on the day I fell. She rushed to greet me at the door, did a few sniffs, and began frantically licking my face and knee where there were some scrapes. She seemed to sense that I was in pain. Our walks became slower and she did not pull on the leash, even when she did her morning dump. My job was a little more complicated; step on the leash, climb into the ditch, grab the turds with the bag in my good hand, climb out of the ditch and continue.

Here is the latest news; yesterday I had my appointment with the fracture clinic for an update. I am moving along …slowly, and my sling will be part of my life for a few more weeks. I found another dress that I can put on by myself. Venus has gone home and I miss her. Peter is still hanging around, thank heavens. But the best is that today the dishwasher repairman cometh!

Sue

Outside in my nightie covered by my raincoat, while Venus sits on guard

Walking For Brain Health

On the last 2 weekends, Peter and I signed up to go with our doctor daughter on 2 fundraising walks; one for Alzheimers’ disease, and one for University Health Network which does a lot of research on brain health. They were both fun – getting new tee-shirts, doing warm-ups with the adults and children, admiring the many different breeds of dogs, adding lots of steps to our fitbits, and holding up traffic as we crossed major intersections.

The routes varied; the Alzheimers walk started at Fort York and went south along the waterfront, and back to the starting point, about 3 kilometers in total. Although it was cool, Lake Ontario was enticing as always. Boats were already sailing and people were sitting on benches with their coffee, enjoying the view. The finishing line greeters went wild with flags and balloons, welcoming about 500 of us back home to burgers and drinks.

This past weekend, the walk was quite different. Approximately ten times as many participants, about 5000 people, of all ages, gathered at Toronto General Hospital’s parking lot, walked to Toronto Western Hospital, and back. It was more fast-paced and crowded, and the walk through Chinatown was like being in another country.

As we got close to the finish line, Peter suggested we take a Spadina Street detour down to see the construction on the Ontario subway line which runs not far from his investment condo. This was probably ill-advised because, as we rushed back to catch up with the other walkers, I tripped and went splat onto Queen St. My shoulder really hurt and I had broken my glasses. Doctor Andrea said we should probably go to emerg. to see what else had broken. Yikes. Like magic, an ambulance appeared and whisked me off to the finish line -Toronto General Hospital.

Now readers, you may be thinking that I was trying to cheat and arrive at the finish line early, but that is definitely not so. I waited with Andrea for about 7 hours, well past the end of the event. Since I am old I needed to have, not only xrays on my shoulder, but also blood tests and a CT scan to check for brain injury. The irony of the walk to get to the hospital was not lost on us.

Looking on the bright side; I picked a good place to fall – with Andrea there, and the hospital nearby. I have a small non-displacement fracture on my shoulder which is likely to heal without issue, a few scrapes on my face and one knee, and glasses broken on only one side. The bad thing is that I am finding out how many things you can’t do with only one arm!

Stay upright everyone and keep all 4 limbs going if you can.

Sue

Stuffies On Parade

One day, not too long ago, our grand daughter Agnes, almost 14, told us she was going to give up her stuffed animal collection. We were shocked.

Agnes has loved stuffies from the time she was born, or at least pretty close to then. The first stuffie I remember was a whitish bunny with a pink nose who is now grey with age. That bunny went everywhere with her. I lost track of which stuffies came next. But Agnes didn’t. She gave them all names and cared for them with a mother’s love.

Agnes’s favourite game with the stuffies was playing school. We would go down to her basement playroom, aka classroom, and she would line up all the “students” and take attendance. Then she would call on me, the classroom assistant, to organize the activity centres. We’d divide the stuffies; Racoon, Tiger, Sarah, Chicken, Chef, Seal, Parrot and the others, and let them all play together. Then a fight would break out and Sarah would get sent to the office, (thrown unceremoniously into a closet), meaning that the teacher wanted to play a different game, so school was dismissed for the day.

These stuffies grew in number and took on various roles in Agnes’s young life: passengers in her little stroller, characters in dramatic scenes that she made up, sleeping companions in her bed at night. As time went on, they moved to places on her dresser or on bookshelves, and finally in bags in a storage cupboard. The special ones went with her to New Zealand on a family trip while those left behind were shrink-wrapped for safe-keeping.

Then Agnes began to grow up and develop other interests, and the stuffies retired to the background of her life. One day, when the family was packing up for a move to a new residence, Agnes was confronted with the size of her collection. That white-grey bunny now had almost 70 companions. But the enormity of her collection was nothing compared to the enormity of the decision she had to make. What to do with all those small souls who had been part of her life for 13 years?

The answer came as welcome relief. Our local community center, Stonegate Ministry, was co-hosting a BBQ with a local church. The Summer Sizzler was to be held on a Saturday in May. There would be a lot of kids attending with their parents and, while the parents socialized together, what were the kids going to do to amuse themselves?

Agnes is familiar with this church. She donated her books when she was younger and, a few times, she joined me on a Saturday to help kids pick out a book to take home. So, when I mentioned the BBQ, she was more than happy to donate her stuffies – the whole collection.

On Summer Sizzler Saturday morning, the stuffies were set up on a table near the entrance – the best spot in the event. The kids quickly gathered around the table. Soon Parrot was flying around the grounds on somebody’s shoulder, Racoon was being hugged to death, Chicken was squawking on the head of an energetic boy, and Elephant was joining a rabbit sibling.

In the end all the stuffies found new homes. And Agnes can move on with her life, knowing that her childhood companions are well taken care of.

Sue

The Swing Rises

Readers may remember one of my first posts, back in 2019, called My Life As a Swinger. Peter and I had recently bought a new back yard swing in bright red. We invited an unsuspecting son and his family to have dinner and, by the way, help us assemble the swing. It took 4 university-educated adults an entire day to figure it out.

For years the swing was my summer happy place, where I devoured novels, figured out new blog topics, and snoozed through lazy afternoons. Grandchildren spent many hours rocking back and forth, and telling each other stories. Party guests rushed past the bar and straight to the back yard to get the prime seats – on the swing.

So it was pretty sad when, late last summer, the fabric holding the seat cushions gave way to old age, and dumped two guests on the patio. Nobody was hurt but, without the piece holding the cushions, the swing was useless. I checked on Amazon and it seemed that the part would be pretty easy to replace. So we packed away the cushions and gave up on the seat for the winter.

A couple of weeks ago, when it stopped snowing, I decided it was time to research a replacement part for the swing. Lowe’s, the hardware store where we had purchased the original, had gone out of business. So I looked for the company that made it; Garden Treasures. I was directed online to another website called Sun Swings, operating out of Nevada, USA.

Yes the part was available. It was called a “sling,” and it came in 5 models and 18 sizes, with a warning: “Be absolutely sure to order the correct size, as replacement slings must fit exactly, including cutouts for bolts and various other hardware.” There was even an installation video with a woman wearing a gas mask as she wielded a blow torch. Furthermore the cost for this apparatus was $262.00 US dollars and it had to be delivered to a US address. We almost gave up.

Maybe we could manage with just some extra chairs and footstools. But our back yard wouldn’t be the same without the beloved swing. We thought again. Lowe’s had been sold to Rona. Would Rona know anything about our swing and how to fix it? As if by magic, the mailman arrived, (these days that IS magic) and delivered a Rona sales brochure. And there, on page 7 was Our Swing – the exact one!! And it was on sale for only $400 Canadian dollars!

We tore off our pajamas and rushed to Rona. We found our swing, set up as a floor model. As we stared in amazement, a salesman offered to search through the warehouse to see if he could find a boxed one. We sat contentedly on the floor model, swinging and cheering while he looked. It seemed that Lowe’s had sold off their excess inventory to Rona and, hidden in the very back of the warehouse, there it was.

For only $400 Canadian we bought a whole new swing. The correct sling was already attached to the seat part, along with an extra frame and set of cushions for whatever next disaster we had. This seemed like a very good deal to me. Peter may not have agreed, as he spent a long couple of hours organizing the hardware, figuring out which screws and bolts we needed, finding the right tools and assembling it on his aging knees. But he did it all by himself and we didn’t have to call in the family.

Finally it was assembled. We celebrated with a few swings back and forth, thinking that summer has arrived in our back yard!

So dear readers, the swing is now available for use. Send in your reservation early.

Sue

Old Montreal

The Old Port

Being true to our “Buy Canadian” values, Peter and I chose Montreal as a short vacation destination. We were once again reminded of the ease of travel within Canada: no passports or customs hassles, no currency exchange, no health care worries, and no language problems. I even tried out my basic French occasionally and was rewarded with a smile. Or was it a smirk?

The last time either of us had visited Montreal was over 50 years ago. Peter visited expo in 1967 and I went to a conference in 1972. Would the city have changed since then? My recollections were of a hangover from too much free wine on the plane, and expensive shopping on St Catherine Street. Peter remembered sharing a room in a high-end hotel with about 4 other young guys. Several decades later, we were going with another older couple like us, and we needed a different plan.

We were told to be sure to stay in Old Montreal, near the Port and the waterfront. It sounded perfect – old and quiet. We found a perfect hotel too: L’Hotel near the port, with lots of eateries, and a subway stop. The hotel itself had large comfy beds, a convenient breakfast area, and art on all the walls in case we woke up with insomnia in the night and needed to go for a stroll.

Art in the hotel lobby

We spent the first day wandering around the waterfront and enjoying the architecture. It was a big contrast to Toronto, where old buildings have mostly been torn down and replaced with steel and glass skyscrapers. Here the buildings have been re-purposed: into restaurants, boutiques and markets. The 1864 Royal Bank, once the tallest building in the British Empire, has been transformed into office space, where the ground floor is now the Crew Collective Cafe- a place for small businesses to rent internet service and hold informal meetings.

Front doors of Royal Bank building

We limited ourselves to One church only – Mary Queen of the World 1894. We chose this one because the front piece of the altar, officially named the ciborium, was built in 1900, and is an exact copy of the ciborium in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome where the new Catholic Pope recently held his first mass.

Pope’s altar

On our wanderings we ran across this monument to Sir John A Macdonald, missing John, who was first painted red, and then torn down by protesters in 2020 because of his support for residential schools. (He is now residing somewhere else). Then we wandered through Hudson’s Bay, another sad ending for an historic building. We couldn’t even find any souvenirs to buy.

Where is John?

One of my reasons for wanting to visit Montreal was to see some installations by landscape architect Claude Cormier, famous for Sugar Beach, Berczy Park and Love Park, in Toronto. We saw 4 in his home town of Montreal. The grounds of the Clock tower at the Old Port are enhanced with a creation similar to our Sugar Beach. Dorchester Square has been reconfigured with bridges, benches and a fountain. The Ring separates 2 office buildings in Place Ville Marie. The most unique installation stands in the lobby of the Palais des Congress, a convention centre, where live trees and bushes are replaced by The Lipstick Forest.

We wound up each day with dinner close to our hotel. Our travels, mostly on foot, had worn us out and we didn’t want to miss our bedtime! So we chose: Brew Pub, Mexican, and Asian, with a glass of wine or a beer to start. And for those of you who are wondering about where was the French food? We did have one French lunch, all cheesy and delicious, on a patio near the port.

This, and other minor adjustments, meant that travelling for older folks is not only possible – it’s FUN!.

Sue

Home Sweet Home

Our house has been falling apart. Perhaps that sounds a bit dramatic, but here’s the scene: First the dishwasher drain hose got plugged up and had to be emptied. Then the central vac system needed a new motor. And last week the microwave died and had to be replaced. All this happened within a couple of weeks. Maybe, we thought, it might be time to sell our old house and move.

Just then we got an invitation to a free lunch at a local retirement home. What a coincidence! Peter will do almost anything for free food. And we could book the lunch on a Lucy day so we could get out of the cleaning lady’s hair. This was a no-brainer. We even got a bit dressed up.

When we arrived, Peter let me off at the door and I went in to the front desk to ask about parking. I relayed the info to him – go along to the next entrance and then drive down into the underground parking lot to visitors’ parking. I waited in the front lobby. And waited. And waited. The hostess assured me that no white car had driven into the underground lot – just a red one. I was starting to panic. Where could he be? Then it hit me – we had not driven his white car today; we had taken my red one! Oops. And then Peter appeared in the lobby. The clerk looked me over, secretly saying to herself: “Well it’s definitely time for this lady to move here. She can’t even keep track of their cars!”

Then we were escorted to our table in the dining room. The table was set with a linen cloth, silverware, and a couple of drinking glasses each. The service was very formal: serve from the right, remove from the left. Or is it the other way around? The other guests were very old and spoke softly. We couldn’t even hear any gossip! But the food was very good: appetizer, main course, and dessert. Three meals a day like this and we would blow up like balloons in no time.

Next on the menu was a tour of the facilities. We saw a fitness room outfitted with chairs for sit-down exercising, and fitness machines that were not in use. There was a spa for touching up grey hair and for cutting toenails that clients could no longer reach. And there was a theatre with movies running 3 times a day. It seemed like there was a lot of sitting going on in the daily routine.

The hostess asked if we would like to see one of the suites. I said “sure” and Peter rolled his eyes. When we got to the elevator, there was a line-up. One of the 2 elevators was in use by somebody moving in. Or out. The other one wasn’t big enough to hold all the walkers and wheelchairs in the lineup. So we thanked the hostess and said we would return another time.

That time may be far away. We both felt that we had visited a hotel. It was lovely for a short vacation, but it would be hard to think of it as home.

Sue

Signs Of the Times

With the global political situation in chaos, Peter and I decided to do what we could to help keep our country safe and secure. We chose to canvas for our local election candidates.

When someone applies to canvas, the first question asked is: “Will you take a lawn sign?” This has proven to be a very effective way of advertising for votes. All of us have done it: counted numbers in our heads: 9 red signs, 12 blue, 3 orange and so on. Signs are a great way to get people’s attention and pre-determine the winner. Or maybe signs tell us a different story altogether.

At the beginning of the Provincial election, we volunteered to canvas for Liberal candidate Lee Fairclough, and to take a red lawn sign. A small one appeared immediately, but it was sitiuted near a hedge and hardly visible. We asked for a bigger sign to be placed at the other side of our property, near an intersection, which would ensure better visibility. The workers arrived with big electric drills: the ground was frozen and this sign needed large wooden stakes. It took quite an effort, but the sign was finally erected.

After about a week, we woke up one morning to find a large BLUE sign on our property, right next to the red one. What the heck? We called the Blue office only to be told that they were Not Responsible for their own signs and we would need to call the City to have the sign removed. The City said workers would come by in a week. So Peter went out and yanked the Blue sign out of the ground himself, and leaned it against the side of the house.

The next morning the Blue sign was back up again. Apparently trespassers had been by. This time, when Peter yanked out the sign, he hid it in the back yard. Two days later, Election Day, our red sign was surrounded by Blue signs. But that evening Lee Fairclough won our riding. All those blue signs had not succeeded.

Then we went on to canvas for James Maloney in the Federal election. We ordered a large red Maloney sign for the corner near the intersection. All went well… until the ice storm stuck. The sign lost its grip and began flailing around, hanging on at only one corner. Peter re-tied it but, by the evening, it had slid down and was sitting morosely on the ground.

As soon as the ice storm slowed down, a new version of the Maloney sign appeared, this one with a picture of the candidate and his dog Walnut. We have a lot of dog-owners in the neighbourhood and soon the comments started: “Oh what a cute dog! I’m going to vote for Him!”

That sign is not the only image Maloney has for his campaign. He also owns a pick-up truck and, during elections, he puts a moose in the back. I had never ridden in a pick-up truck, definitely not one with a moose in the back. But last weekend I did. James drove us to our canvassing neighbourhood, and it was a delight to hear all the kids giggling and pointing as we drove past them.

There is less than a week to go until the Federal election. Dear readers, I hope you get behind your local candidate, whether blue, green, orange or RED, and vote.

Sue

The Grand Finale

Our curling season is done. And so are we.

Peter and I debated about whether to register for the Grand Mixed Bonspiel at our curling club. It was the last big event of the season, and the 50th anniversary of this particular event. Our weekend was free of other obligations. Plus, the big prize was a pair of red Muskoka chairs that would be perfect for our back yard. Why not sign up?

Because we are old, that’s why not! Playing 3 games in less than 24 hours is hard work. First you throw these big heavy rocks down the ice. And when you’re not doing that, you’re sweeping. Not like sweeping the kitchen floor – this is really Sweeping! And your boss is yelling “Hard, Harder, HARDER!!!”

We signed up anyway. How foolish is that? We would find out.

The first time that we felt we might have made a mistake was when we learned that we had been placed on 2 different draw times. Peter’s Friday game was at 7:30 pm, but mine was at 9:30 pm. This meant that I would be going to bed well past midnight, and Peter would have to sleep in a chair at the club waiting for me. Or I would have to drive home by myself in the dark. Both options were bad.

After we got that sorted out, we played our 7:30 Friday game, followed by drinks and chips – lots of chips. This was not going to be a healthy-eating weekend. On Saturday morning breakfast was served: doughnuts, muffins and coffee cake, with lots of coffee to drink. This meant a delay in the middle of the morning game while 7 curlers stood around waiting for me to go to the bathroom. How embarrassing.

Lunch was good: wraps with veggies on the side, along with more chips and cookies and alcohol. After that, Peter and I were ready for our afternoon naps. We searched around the club for some couches, but there weren’t even any comfy chairs. We tried out the prize Muskoka chairs and they were fine to sit in but, just as we nodded off, we heard he announcement that our afternoon game was about to begin. Slowly we lurched out of the chairs and shuffled our way onto the ice.

By the end of the afternoon game we were toast. But NO! Now we had to get changed into our sparkly clothes for the 50th Anniversary Celebration! Except Peter has no sparkly clothes and mine no longer fit. We put on non-curling pants and jackets and I stole a gold flower from one of the table decorations and attached it to my top. We were all set.

Next we were encouraged to participate in the raffle so, in support of the club, we bought 50 tickets and headed to the prize table. There were no useful items like heating pads, or pill boxes, or a visit to a podiatrist, so we ended up stuffing the tickets into bottles of exotic spirits, or tickets to more curling events; kind of hoping we wouldn’t win.

After we had used up all our tickets, we were served more chips and more drinks, while we waited for the dinner to begin. The food was delicious but it took a while to serve all 120 of us. The main course was followed by speeches thanking all the volunteers, and drawing for the prizes. Peter and I won nothing. By this time we had our elbows on the table, propping up our heads.

Then the host announced that dessert would be served; celebration cake with 2-inch thick icing. And the evening would continue with – dancing! We did manage to stuff down some cake but our old bodies were not up for dancing to “I will Survive” or rounds of “YMCA!”

It had been a great curling season with plenty of exercise and socializing, and a fun bonspiel to finish off. But it definitely was time for us to put away our brooms and go home. We need time to rest up for next year.

Sue