Those 70ish girls
Ants in the Kitchen by Valerie Halla
My husband and I in South Dakota on our first honeymoon. Young love is grand.
I have been duking it out with teeny ants streaming into my kitchen. They are everywhere there’s food. Either they find big plates of dirty dishes, loaves of bread, cubes of butter, dog treats, fruit or even the tiniest drop of food left out on the counters or floors, microscopic amounts, specks of a meal or minute pieces visible with the naked eye or closed eye or eye of the dog, any eye, but ants find it. I found ants in the bottom of my tea cup and in a pathway to the dog’s dish and along a winding trail to the trash. I’m fuming about ants but they’re there for a true reason: to have reality facing me gut level, true and real and like one of life’s challenges to gnaw at me and shake me up. It’s all good. I am actually welcoming these irritating insects into my home, arriving at the picnic blanket of my life.
So things have been tough lately. My husband of 53 years passed away last week and it was a balance of loss and relief. He’s not suffering any longer. He’s at peace as am I. He fought cancer and infections and pneumonia for about two years. A strange peace came over me and realization that this is right. I’m trusting the path we’re on. I don’t have to understand it. I’m still numb and raw but I’m getting through this with the help of my wonderful three adult children and family and friends. That’s meant so much to me.
A death of someone you’ve known, loved and lived with for 53 years is incredible. I’m still reliving memories which pop into my mind at the oddest times. I was at the grocery store recently with my sons and I picked up avocados but had no bag. As I wrestled with 5 avocados a lady in the produce section handed me a bag so I put them into the plastic bag thanking her, then I started to cry. She moved toward me as I quickly said my husband had just passed away. She didn’t hesitate; this complete stranger reached out and hugged me saying how sorry she was. That was a moment which touched me, quite lovely.
I’m also having this movie of all the good times and bad playing on my movie screen brain, some things I haven’t recalled in decades, recalling our two honeymoons, times we walked the dog or camped with the kids or rode bikes together or discussed books we had read or fought with one another. It’s a wonderful life, to copy a movie title. It is similar to a movie or television show whatever comes into my head, weird yet fun.
However, then I’m drawn back to true life by these irritating ants. I cannot put off their takeover of the kitchen. I have to fight back. Even worse, they give off an awful odor when they’re smashed. Another reminder of their power. I must deal with them.
You little devils haven’t got the best of me yet!
So I say, “Thank you, ants. Thanks for bringing me down to earth. Reality can be sobering and good.“
I’m right where I need to be and I’m strong enough, rough enough and ready for the ants. I’m moving on with or without you.
Thanks for everything- both the good and the bad.
Murdo Girl…Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers
Those 70ish girls…What was the question?
Those 70ish Girls
Thoughts Come Forth by Valerie Halla
Random thoughts aren’t very interesting either!
I talked with my dear cousin on the phone a few days ago. My cousin said we just write down our thoughts as we continue to do the blog. That’s how we do it. My thoughts are pretty random like the leaves on the trees, the weeds in spring fields, the California poppies now a bright orange erupting everywhere in my neighborhood. Randomness is a good thing. Right?
The poppies are blooming like crazy thoughts in my head.
I heard a woodpecker on my walk yesterday morning. It was up a telephone pole in my neighborhood. The sound hit my ears before I saw the bird. It sounded like it was knocking on my chamber door, rapping, tapping on my chamber door. Like Poe’s “The Raven”. Except it was a wood loving bird trying to coax an insect out from the telephone pole. It was focused and not randomly pecking away up high. Not at all like me.
Our oldest son used to call the cartoon character Woody Woodpecker – “Woody pecker” and we tried not to laugh. .
Breathe in and breath out.
I wonder if I left the stove on.
Geeze that lady looks old.
Hmmm. Just found out that she’s ten years younger than I
am. Moving on…
Uhhh, did you buy this bed for lil ol me? It’s new. By the way, thanks for the walk.
Today I walked the dog and mailed a letter. I saw a guy at the Post Office who used to come by to visit his old friend who lived across the street. I greeted him and then said, “My husband’s grandmother used to say that it’s hell to get old.” I giggled. He turned as he reached for the door and looked at me straight in the eyes. He replied,”I’m not old!”
I swear I’m gonna be a better, kinder person. Maybe I’ll start tomorrow.
Now I have to go visit my husband in the Sub-acute and rehab center about 60 miles away. I remember when we were first married, we used savings to go to a Moody Blues Concert in LA. We had fun there over 50 years ago.
I don’t need to put on makeup because masks are required. I might change clothes, trying to look like a better, kinder person. As I leave, I tell the dog to guard the house, she trots down the hall and into the guest room jumping up onto the bed. The dog bed wasn’t good enough.
I get in my new car and open the garage door with the opener on the visor. I turn the volume up as I press Spotify and my favorite songs. The Stones are singing Beast of Burden. I wonder if they were nice guys even though this song should be rated R. I sing along. I maybe get every other verse correct.
I wave to my neighbor who is out in the yard. She waves back and smiles. She’s a nice person.
Tom Petty sings Free Fallin. I love that song even though I don’t understand all the lyrics.
I need to stop for something to eat but I resist. Don’t eat in your new car.
One friend said he wanted to come by and smell my new car.
I’m gradually learning how things work on my 2025 car. I figured out the high and low temps of the climate controls and now I’m working out how to put the emergency brake on. No luck so far. Maybe I won’t experience any emergencies.
The traffic on 101 freeway isn’t too bad but it picks up near Morgan Hill, San Jose and then onto 85. I cuss under my breath at some drivers. I’m feeling pretty down. I feel guilty being a mean driver. Just keep singing.
Dang. Took longer than I thought to get to Los Altos. I park at the hospital. I sign in at the front desk and put on my mask then walk down the hall. I put on a yellow gown, run hand sanitizer in my hands and put on gloves, opening the door to his room.
I walk into my husband’s dark room, blinds drawn, door closed, a young CNA sitting in a chair at the foot of his bed. I see he is sound asleep. She updates me and asks if I’m staying. She leaves, going to assist other patients.
I sit concentrating on where I am and how I got here. I massage my husband’s feet. I should not wake him.
I remind myself that I am learning to be a better, kinder person and each day counts. Life shows us. People show us. Kind people. All people.
I trust the path I’m on. Maybe if I follow it, I will know the way.
Time to head back south on the freeway before commuter traffic hits. Take it slow and easy.
Maybe I’ll put on some old Moody Blues songs.
Those 70ish girls…Thinking about Murdo
I’ve been thinking a lot about Murdo lately. Maybe because Kip and I moved to a small town in Texas about a year ago. We lived in a lake area community for several years before that and lived and worked in the big city of Dallas before that. I’m reminded of the similarities and differences in all the communities.
Van, where we live now, had a population of around 2,800, and Murdo’s was 488 in 2023. Murdo would be a little bigger if you counted the ranchers and farmers. Van has all the fast food restaurants, and the schools are bigger. There is no movie theater, and we have to drive to the next town about 20 miles away to the closest Walmart where we do our grocery shopping.
I remember growing up in Murdo, I felt a sense of belonging to a community. I can still remember the awesome way it felt to belong. School and friendships were very important to me. I also grew up with a large extended family. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins were my lifeline. My older brother went away to college when I was in 5th grade, so all that family made me feel less like an only child.
Dogs used to have the run of the town in Murdo. Our dog, Berferd, thoroughly enjoyed his life there. Here, they have to be in a fenced yard or on a leash. They both love to escape if they get a chance.
One of our daughters and her husband live in a neighboring town about 7 miles away. Another daughter and a son and their families live in the Dallas area a couple of hours away and another son and his family live in Wyoming. A granddaughter and her family live about 20 miles away. We don’t see as much of any of them as we’d like.
Sports in Murdo have always been a big deal. It’s that way in Van, too. Kip and I need to start attending some of the local high school’s sporting events. Maybe that would enhance our sense of belonging. I just now came to that realization.
Murdo definitely had a grapevine of gossip. I wonder if it still does. I’m sure Van does, too, though Kip and I are not well connected enough to know. After living in the Dallas area for so many years, it’s nice to be in a smaller town again. It’s wonderful not to have the traffic. I wish I had a dollar for every time I drove down Main Street and around Brunskill’s hill in Murdo. We used to call it dragging Main.
Though we live in a relatively small town, it doesn’t feel like Murdo. The lake area was nice as we have a lot of friends there and that’s where our church is.
I feel like I’m rambling a bit here. That’s the way my thoughts have been. I hope you’re having a great day! Until next time…
Those 70ish girls…We’re home
We spent two nights at Lake Livingston on our way back from Galveston. We had a great surprise! Some friends whom we hadn’t seen since we all lived in Casper, WY 40 years ago, drove up from the Houston area and met us for lunch. We had a great visit. It was so good to see them.
We weren’t ready to come home, but we’re planning another trip in April or May. We’ll head for California after stopping to see our son, Mason and his family in Wyoming. We might swing by Greeley, CO and see Kip’s sister, Karlyce. But that won’t be the end of our travel. I made Kip promise me that we wouldn’t spend another hot summer in Texas, so we’ll be heading east this summer. Maybe we’ll see our friends in North Carolina and Indiana.
We were so pleased with how well the dogs traveled. They were great! They each bolted out the door once and got away, but we forgave them after they promised to never do it again.
Thanks for enjoying the trip with us. The next ones will be way longer.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Those 70ish girls…Galveston pt 2
We spent 4 glorious days at Jamaica Beach RV Resort. Tuesday, we took the ferry to Bolivar to check out a new RV park (Margaritaville). One of the campers we met at Lake Livingston told us about it. We had fun taking the ferry and watching all the ships. Wednesday, we took the dogs to the dog park and then went to the beach. Afterwards, we had lunch at Schlotsky’s. I had my favorite California chicken and avocado flatbread. It was huge and I ate the whole thing.
We left Galveston this morning about 11:00 and now we’re headed back to Lake Livingston for 2 days before heading home. We took the long way to avoid Houston and it’s been a nice south Texas drive. We should arrive about 5:30… P.S. we stopped at checkers and had a burger about 3:00. No dinner tonight.
Those 70ish Girls 