CATH''S HURRICANE PREPARATION

Take two Aleve PM and wake me when it's over !  At least that is what I did when we first moved to Florida and experience our very first hurricane, Francis, in our brand new home of 4 days. Gerry was a basket case and sat up all night listening and worrying while I slept like a baby. I awoke in the morning in tact to a house with a roof and dry floors while husband was exhausted for no reason. I intend to do the same for "hurricane" Erika.

But over the past 11 years of living in South Florida I have learned a few things and if I may take liberty of using part of what a columnist for the Palm Beach Post wrote yesterday there are three things you need for a hurricane in Florida. I need a few more than three but that's a good start.
#1 is coffee.  If your electricity goes out you need to know where there is a Starbucks that has generators or you need to have a camping stove or bar-b que that you can make coffee on.  If neither of these are possible then you need item
#2.  A Hammock or a dry lounge chair where you can sleep. A little know fact is that a hurricane will suck all the moisture out of the air so that after a hurricane the air in Florida is lovely and DRY with those wonderful winds blowing so even though you are without electricity it is very comfortable to sleep outside. So . . .  if I can't have coffee to keep me awake, I can go outside and sleep in the balmy breezes that are bug and humidity free !
#3. A good book that I have at least 10 of because I have not read a single page since the advent of the iPad and Netflix streaming. Why should I strain my brain to read when all I have to do is push a button and vegetate in front of a screen?  I am loosing brain cells at an astounding rate! With no electricity I will be forced to READ !
#4. An entire garage FULL of toys and crap that is in dire need of cleaning out since the last time the twins and Smith were here. I have been waiting for the perfect rainy day to attack this project and have not gotten to it yet so what is better than a hurricane to get to this.
#5. OH . . . Am I supposed to be doing something to get ready for this storm ? I have food, I have water. I have candles. And the storm probably won't turn into a hurricane anyway . . .  

I'm good !  Where's the Aleve ?

FROM CHINA CABINET TO TOY CABINET

Growing up in Queens NY with  my 2 old grand pa's living with us I was pretty much left on my own to find ways to entertain myself. Having no siblings to annoy left me one less source of entertainment so my imagination was pretty well honed. I had tons of friends in the real world and even more in my head. But the one place where I was NOT allowed to play was in grand pa's china cabinet. I remember this particular piece of furniture standing in one of the two small bedrooms down stairs off the kitchen in our very tiny house. My father's father was blind so I guess he didn't mind that his tiny bedroom was packed wall to wall with furniture. It probably made it easier for him to maneuver . No spaces to fall between.  After he died his room became the "dining" room so the china cabinet just stayed where it was and his bed was replaced with a table.
The china cabinet, shown here:

   

has rounded glass panels that I expect would cost a small fortune to replace. Thus the reason every child in the family has been strictly forbidden to stay far far away from the china cabinet and to never never play ball in the house. At least that has been the rule for me and my children.  But now all that has changed! Grand ma now has grand children and they are free to do as they wish! In fact, today I spent the day cleaning out the antique china cabinet and putting all the plastic plates and cups and spoons and bowls into the cabinet along with the bells and little animals and toys that the kids play with every time they come. 

Great Grand Pa is rolling over in his grave! The china cabinet has become a toy chest!

HERE WE GO ROUND THE MULBERRY BUSH

Some days it just seems like I am going in circles. Some weeks it just seems I am going in circles. Some months it just seems I am going in circles. I think I am going in circles !
This seems to happen every time I try to deal with a government agency, a bank, a credit card company or an insurance company. What do they all have in common ?  "PRESS ONE FOR ENGLISH" Right there we are off on the wrong foot.  I take offense with that! I live in AMERICA ! My NATIVE LANGUAGE IS ENGLISH . . . Why must I  press anything to speak my native language ????????
Next I must listen to a menu that exceeds that of a 5 star restaurant. The choices are given so rapidly and are so obscure that they do not fit my need so I must listen to them six times before I decide none of them are what I want so I must then press the star key which then asks me to enter my 16 digit account number which is what I am calling about in the first place. ARAUUGGHHHGHHHHHHH !!

In the past three days I have spent a total of 3 hours and 20 minutes on the phone with Capitol One credit card company. I still have not resolved the issue. I am to the point of banging my head on the desk. I really though I had gotten the problem fixed this morning when a lovely young lady sounded so confident and simply said,"Oh, no problem, just do this, this and this, I'll hold."  I did that, that and that and voila, I was into the account, wham, bam, thank you mam! The girl hung up and it wasn't until tonight that the account I had gotten into was my no longer existent car loan that apparently Capitol One still thinks I have.  BACK TO SQUARE ONE !   If only I could walk into a bank and grab someone by the throat and shake them I would feel OH so much better.

It is probably good it is Friday night and I will have 2 whole days to work this out before getting on the phone again Monday morning. What are the chances I will even remember what the heck I was doing by Monday morning?

I WILL REMAIN CALMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

i am  calm,  i am calm i am calm i am calm i am calm i am YKJTQ IRWEHP 9L  amel amcla cmae aME VVCIQLOAEFGJBVZ ;'FGHPOBJRNAESGMH67 ,-]=\ TD8IUP
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OOPS !   I AM NOT CALM !

It is my own fault. I am trying to be efficient. I am trying to put my ducks in a row. I am trying to prove that I can function as an older, independent widowed woman.  IT AIN'T WORKING !

Tonight's raging battle with the banks and credit card company could have gone so much easier if I had never sat down at the computer in the first place. I could have just put my comfy clothes on, filled a huge bowl with ice cream and fudge syrup and whip cream and nuts and sat on the couch and watched a totally stupid movie and been in hog fat heaven but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I have to be dieting and so rather than eating I am being PRODUCTIVE ! I decided to work on my finances and see just where I was with money. How much was coming IN and how much was going OUT. no no no no no no no no no no  . . . .  there really needs to be a little something that drops from the ceiling when I decide these things. Something that would fall from the ceiling and smash  me in the head rendering me unconscious for at least a month. I swear I am my own worst enemy.

So I sit down at the computer and check my one bank. OH LOOK, all that nice money just sitting there. OH LOOK, all that nice money slowly draining out of the nice bank account and NOTHING going back in. Now the visions of me in a Publix deli hat and apron are becoming quite vivid. (I look pretty good in green. I could probably pull it off. Running the carts out to the cars would be tougher, all that walking might bother my knees, but then the exercise would be good. I doubt I'd do well as a cashier, I'd get talking too much. Maybe the bakery?)  Then I see a charge for $12.95 going out every month and I can't figure out what it's for. No phone number, no name, nothing. But the bank web site says I can call them up till 10 PM so I call. Nice young man gives me a phone number which I will call tomorrow. From there I move on to bank number two.  Why do I have 2 banks ? I have ALWAYS wondered that myself ? Like one isn't good enough ? (NO!) I have so much money I need to divide it between 2 banks? (NO!) I couldn't make up my mind which bank I like better? Actually now I have 3 banks if you consider the bank that holds my mortgage. It gets quite confusing as to which account at which bank gets which income check at what time of the month. (Don't let this throw you, there are only 2 sources of income and only 4 accounts but I still have trouble remembering who's on first!)
So now I have figured out what is coming, what is going, when things are coming and when things are going out and because I haven't stretched my brain quite far enough I decide to now venture into the very murky waters of . . . .  (a little drum roll here) . . . . THE CREDIT CARD ! . . . .     And this is where I lost it.   You see, I called the credit card company some time in the recent past to alert them to the fact that the major card holder had passed away. (Ger thought he was the major credit card holder because he WAS the one with all the money so his name came first on everything. Who USED the card the most is another matter entirely.) After going through many condolences Capitol One assured me I was now the major credit card holder, Gerard's name would be removed from all further billing and all was well with the world. UNTIL I tried to log into my Cap One on line account tonight. It is now too late to call anyone, probably a good thing. I shall call them in the morning and get this all straightened out, of that I am sure. Capitol One has been great and I would not have any other card in my wallet but I sure was pissed at them tonight.

Thank Heavens for this blog!

A STORY ABOUT GERRY

About 4 or 5 years ago Ger and I went to Paris with his sister Ann Marie. We were only there about three days and stayed at a very small hotel near the North train station. The hotel was located on a rather busy avenue and on the rare occasions that we were in our rooms Gerry could be found standing at the window of our room watching the people and cars out on the street. (Anyone who knew Ger knew he was a people watcher of the highest degree. Often to the point of having dinner out together and never saying a word for the entire meal because he was so busy watching other people.)
Across the Avenue from our hotel there were some shops with a sidewalk in front of them and a phone booth and a large old tree between the sidewalk and the street. The phone booth wasn't anything like the ones we are used to but rather had six glass sides and was divided into compartments. Living in two or three of these compartments was a homeless gentleman that fascinated Gerry.

Ann Marie and I were unaware of this interest of Gerard's until late in the last day. On our last evening as we sat in our room chatting about our plans for leaving the next morning Ger was, as usual standing at the window looking out. We asked him what was so interesting and he began to tell us about the homeless man living in the phone booth. He said how he had been watching him for the past two and a half days. How the man would leave the booth in the morning and take his things with him but return each evening and settle down for the night. Ger said the man seemed to bring food back with him at night and eat in the phone booth, then wrap himself in blankets, (it was Spring so the weather was mild) and sleep the night. Ger also said he had watched the man get up just this morning, come out of the phone booth, walk to the tree. drop his pants, squat next to the tree and poop! Ann Marie and I were "shocked" yet laughing at the thought and telling Ger he should have called us! All this drama going on just across the avenue from us and Gerry watching it all.

The next morning it was time to go. Our bags were packed and we checked out, ready to walk the couple of blocks to the train station. As we stepped out of the hotel Gerry put his bag down and told us to wait a minute. Ann Marie and I looked at each other wondering what the heck he was doing. But as we had come to know after all these years of traveling together . . . DON'T ASK !  We put our bags down and watched as Ger ran across the 4 wide lanes of the Avenue and right up to the phone booth where the homeless man was sleeping. Ger banged on the glass door but the man just waved him away. Ger banged again and showed him something in his hand. The homeless man slowly got to his feet and cautiously opened the door to the booth. Gerry handed him something, shook his hand and ran back across the street to us. There he picked up his bag and started walking. Ann Marie and I stood there staring after him with our mouths hanging open. When we caught up with him we asked him what he had done. Gerard's response :  "Well, I figured we are leaving Paris and probably won't ever get here again so I gave him all the money we had left over."

A year later Ger was diagnosed with cancer and two and a half years after that he was gone. We never got back to Paris. But he sure did leave a piece of himself there.