FABULOUS 63 Y.O. ROCKSTAR

Today was my Gal Pal day with Cheryl & Pam.

It started earlier than usual – and ended earlier than usual. We did not have as much fun today as we normally do. Talk of the coronavirus ate up most of the time; I didn’t say much on the topic, other than to say that we’re all born with an expiration date: and there’s nothing we can really do to forestall The Grim Reaper if our number is called.

That is how I feel. I’m not afraid to shed my earthen vessel – I know where my spirit will be going; and now that Bob is no longer here with me, and the kids have cut me cold, I have nothing to hold me earthbound. I’ll be here as long as Elohim dictates, and I’m not going to spend that time worrying about my life and when it may end.

Pam & Cheryl both have families; they are naturally concerned, and perhaps a little freaked out. I have nothing to lose – there is no one left to miss me when I’m gone, so I’m really not worried: I’ve lived with the Spector of death all my life. I placed my life in Elohei’s hands a looong time ago.

What will be, will be.

The coronavirus has been around a long time. This strain may be “a new strain”, but it is basically the same virus that has been around at least since the 1950’s. It has reached pandemic status now because we live in a mobile world now … people are constantly on the go, globe-trotting to 3^rd world countries – and unwisely pandering to the ‘open borders’ sector of society.

There are natural remedies that can safe-guard you against a viral attack.

Here is one link: (https://oand.org/uncategory/top-ten-natural-anti-viral-agents/).

I chew raw garlic & drink green tea; but most of all, I trust Elohim with my life – I’m “good” :-D

As our visit came to an end, and we were saying our goodbye’s – I stood on my front porch, talking small talk with them as they walked the sidewalk to their cars. A silver compact car drove by with the driver’s window down … and what happened made me laugh, and left the girls with their mouths open in stunned disbelief:

I am still chuckling ;-)

And I bet Bob was howling with laughter.

I’m a 63 year old chubby granny – nothing special to gawk at.

And, while I still have much of my natural hair color; there is a LOT of gray coming in: and where it looked like ‘highlights’ a year ago, my hair has grayed up considerably since becoming a widow 14 months ago …

Maybe he was gawking at all that sparkling glitter ;-D

Maybe he was awed by my fabulous Queenly self-confidence as I stood on the front porch of my castle ;-)

Whatever {it} was, it brought laughter into my day – and THAT was a good thing.

OVEN CLEANING

I cleaned the oven tonight – I've only ever done this with Bob on hand. We were a team in all things. He was my support; I have mild dyslexia … but when I am stressed, it comes on full-force and Bob was my sounding board. I learn by talking and doing. Bob “got” that about me. And Bob would lift the oven door off so I could basically climb inside to wipe the oven out when the cycle was completed. I'm short-torsoed; so, when I stretch full out to get to the back, it does feel like I am climbing inside to reach the back.

I’ve only cleaned this oven once since it was installed the Fall of 2017: and Bob was here for that. The oven wasn’t filthy … but it did have splattered grease on the bottom and the sides from the fried chicken I made for Supper; and it was smokey when I took the chicken out of the oven:

So, it needed cleaning.

Bob is no longer here.

I tried not to get stressed. I have no sounding board now; no one to go over the details with – no one to play parrot with me, no one to affirm that what I am reading and understanding is correct before I proceed forward. Most of the time I can control my mild dyslexia, but under stress, instructions and directions get dicey. And now, I am also dealing with Widow PTSD. I read and reread the Oven Manual a million times just to be sure I didn’t screw something so simple, up …

Automatic cleaning cycle set - this is how long the cleaning cycle would go. It was already 6:30 PM when I started the cycle.

My main concern was the possibility of smoking the house up, and setting off the smoke alarms – I opened up the kitchen window, and I flicked the house ventilator on. But cleaning an oven is a smoky ordeal, no matter what.

I MISS BOB! He stood 6’2, and would be able to reach his long arms right up to the ceiling and turn the darned things off. But, I am short all the way around: height. legs, and arms. I'm short ... and they are high up.

I prayed. Hard.

I also prayed that I could thoroughly wipe the ashy residue out of the oven, stretching as far as I can across the oven door without tweaking the door – I'm no light-weight. I did not want to lean too heavily on the oven door: I was able to do what needed doing from the sides of the open oven door. It was a stretch; but I managed it.

The oven is cleaned, wiped down, and foiled lined again ;-)

Viola! A clean oven, with no snafu’s.

The smoke alarms did not go off; and though there is a faint odor from the cleaner ... I did not have to use my inhaler.