All Those Numbers

There are, for instance, telephone numbers, too many to remember any more.  It used to be that there were just a few numbers needed for telephones, both in regard to how many were needed to call some place and how many places were called.  Some, like 278-4435, were used for decades.  No more Is it that way; never again will it be.  Now, not having a special place for telephone numbers where they were sure not to be lost, they’ve been taped to a wall behind the table.  Fifty years ago the paternal parent used to tape them to a convenient door to a back room.  These days the door is understood better.  …Or, maybe it’s just a matter of two people who thought alike all along.  

Other numbers include those on the calendar (also on the wall), those on the clock (a few inches from the wall), some item (“bullet”) numbers on a letter taped to the wall, a cemetery plot identification number taped there "just in case," a bank routing number on a notepad by the clock waiting the opportunity to put it where it needs to be put and applications of a few of these, like the "appointment" time for a pill to be taken.  There are such things as the street number as well.  Many of the numbers also immediately around aren’t a part of an organized thing like the clock or the calendar.  They’re ones that belong to another order, like "NET WT 12g" on a box. 

Personally speaking, there was never anyone who really jumped up and down yelling, "Numbers are important!"  They are an orderly type of thing  that sometimes helps the thinking process, but no one ever made an issue of them (maybe because they were fairly accurate).  Yet when it comes to many things (money, for instance) they’re highly important.  And, importance is the question at hand in regard to the numbers stuck on the wall.  Some have not been used for a year or more.  Might they again become part of life?  Probably not, but get rid of something and it’s nearly certain to be needed.  It’s only excess baggage at the moment.  Maybe if they were just taken off of the wall….

The past has a way of cluttering up the present. 

Advertisements

Relatives (Again)

Everyone has relatives, at least a mother and a father.  Usually there are more, some more distant than others.  Now, one can have a situation where all of the relatives are decent, upstanding citizens, but they really don’t want to have anything to do with each other for some reason.  On the other hand, there’s the situation where relatives are so involved with each other that there is little room for anyone else.  Often it is neither, but the point here rests with the two extremes, especially one.  At some time “back there” in previous discussion this may have been a part of things, but not like at present.  It’s something that just came to the foreground, personally. 

Now, what the world immediately at hand boils down to is this:  there’s a need to go to the hospital to get a CT (“cat”) scan.  This is not a matter of get in the car and drive, not personally or otherwise.  That includes not being driven by family, friend or service like taxi, although taxi would be the standard method.  At the present time the “patient” can barely stand up, never mind walking any distance.  Getting from here to there rests on sitting on a motorized scooter.  (The alternative, anything but independent activity, is a sitting in a wheelchair that is pushed by someone.)  The scooter was never designed to take on the kind of hill that is part of the route to the hospital. 

In order to get to the place where there is equipment for the scan, there is going to be a case of “dependency.”   What flew into mind was the notion of the nearest cousin, a fair piece up the pike even if he had been seen once in the last thirty years, providing a little assistance in the matter.  It was a thought that never before entered the mind, not something ever imagined in more youthful days when there was an illusion (that’s all it was) of family interaction.  For one thing he’s seven years younger, always a little kid for two decades and subject for being watched over and helped.  It’s mind-boggling to think of him as the help.  It’s revolutionary, and would be possible in some families.  . 

Some things can’t happen. 

A Day At The Old Folks’ Home

First of all, there was supposed to be someone stopping by around or soon after the noon hour today.  He (?she) didn’t show up.  He (?she) also had other people to visit, and whether or not anyone else got a visit is an unknown.  It might become known in a week when “regular friend” (who stops by to see that all is adequate for maintaining continued existence) will be back from his necessary business trip.  It doesn’t matter, really.  The door was properly left propped open.  The visit was unlikely, depending on who might be doing it.  Visitors are tiring, so there was energy to do important things, like water the plants and try a little medical care on the bad hand.  

This “today” is Sunday.  Especially with no visit, there was chance to do a commentary for the week.  A few days ago a wonderful topic came to mind.  Not being too alert right then, it wasn’t written down.  Now it is long gone having been sent to oblivion by a few things like some bugs that got into the place somehow.  There was also a new pill on order at the drug store (effects not immediately known).  Such things are distracting at inopportune times.  The bill for the post office box (due at the end of the month) was in the mail on Wednesday,  “Regular friend” came Friday to go pay it, arriving late.  It was paid yesterday.  There was no idea of where to put the receipt until today….

The weather was nice in the morning and in the evening, but at the time for wandering outside to see if there were any other residents around, like in the early afternoon, the weather per reports was heading into more than the mid-80’s. Good sense said stay in the air conditioned apartment.  (It’s not really essential to see other humans during a day.  Indeed, sometimes one is better off not seeing some human beings.)  There is almost always something that might be done that is quite important.  A hundred or so dollars are sitting waiting to be counted (if/when the feet stop hurting enough that it can be correctly added to the little dab of cash at hand). 

One should always watch the money.      

Labor Day Weekend – County Fair Time

“Back home” (as they say) for a long, long time Labor Day has been more than a time to institute some special respect for the “working man/woman.”  The entire weekend plus a few extra days as well has been “county fair time,” likewise for a long, long time one of the biggest ones in the state.  Certainly there have been more “ordinary” Labor Day activities as well.  In addition, at least one major organization has seen fit to start it’s own big activity (and it is big) more or less in competition with the fair as not every person in the community is interested in the agricultural event.  It’s a big fun time for a number of different reasons, perhaps too many. 

Tuesday after Labor Day is the proper time for fair participants to go to the fairgrounds and pick up their entries as they should be there as long as the fair is running.  Due to circumstances some people do pull out early, but prize winners in particular do need to be on display during the whole show.  It might be a bit difficult for some animals as in some cases it’s not the only fair endured.  Fairs run at various times – some earlier in the season like in July – and it is not unusual to find an entry bedecked with ribbons from an earlier fair.  Regardless, usually it isn’t until Tuesday that stuff is supposed to be cleared out, when people who have jobs are supposed to be at work. 

So, what’s a fair ribbon worth?  On the whole, they aren’t worth much in cash, like not even worth a look through the fair book.  They aren’t really worth too much in prestige, either.  Hundreds are given away every year, and there are hundreds of fairs.  It’s true there is only one blue ribbon per type of item, but there may be six versions of that, like six kinds of cake (chocolate, yellow, etc.).  A fair ribbon merely says that at this time in this place the judges in the picture think the winner is the best of the lot at hand – not all possible or any such thing and not necessarily as another set of judges might pick but as seems best at the moment.  (A ribbon can make one feel successful.) 

Winning has aspects.