Homebodies - Finding my way around...

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By Rita Friesen

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It’s an adventure, finding my way around a new home. It’s no secret that I am in the kitchen only because one must eat to live, not a fun or happy place for me to be. I am using a stove fancier than I ever thought I would own. Self-cleaning. That should eliminate the fun game of putting out an oven fire. A game at which I have become adept, especially in pie baking season. Don’t believe I shall miss it, though! The fridge that I saw as too big, well, one third is a freezer and so the fridge part is actually smaller than what I am used to. That’s a good thing, most times that appliance is echo empty, causing my caring grandchild to tsk me. “What are you eating?” Only answer for that is – take a look at me, I am not fading away!

Several years ago, we got a new bed. The super thick mattress kind. Ed thought it was too high and so we had the bed on two by fours on the floor rather than a frame. So now I have it on a frame, and it’s too high for the dogs to jump on. Normally, that would be a good thing, but ‘we’ are accustomed to sleeping together. The first night Miss Daisy casually eyed the bed, jumped and fell back. Embarrassed her horribly. To add insult to injury, the next morning when she jumped off, she skidded on the smooth floor. Not good, embarrassed again. I think I solved that by putting a small chest at the foot of the bed. Miss Daisy caught the concept the first time I carefully showed her how to do it. Henry Hoover, on the other hand, can only go to bed by himself when I am available. Pitiful whimpers have me rushing to hoist him up. I am well trained.

I don’t have all the boxes unpacked, but I have enough to get by. Friends saw clearly that my intent to facilitate the move with a crew of three, me being one of them, was totally unrealistic. Thankfully! The first day of moving a caring friend offered a wonderful supper to the crew of seven. And the second day another helper served six exhausted movers. But we got it done. Plus 30, 31, with a humidex of 45, well, truthfully, we could not drink enough to pee. Hot and bothered, but all remained cheerful and good natured. 

The first night, Miss Daisy threatened the train that passed by in the wee hours of the morning. So the next night I left a radio on and we slept through. How am I doing with all this? I woke up Friday morning and my first thought was - it’s Friday and I don’t have to mow the lawn! When I mowed my new yard it took me  25 minutes with the walking mower, not five and a half hours on the riding mower. I think that pretty much says it all!