PRICEY PANDEMIC

 

Whenever I read about all those people who saved money big time during the lock-down I shake my head, I've always felt that I live in a different reality and now I'm sure of it!

And suddenly there's crazy high inflation! I probably should have thought again about purchasing that expensive cake online for my birthday, but I doubt I'll be doing that again.

My friend Sue has been after me to go on a cruise with her for several years now. Unfortunately due to the expense of so many out-of-the-blue medical, dental, & vision issues I've been constantly forced to put this off. Well now I've had to inform her that I probably won't be going on any more vacations during this lifetime.

My health issues accelerated after I returned from Thailand in 2016.What is worrisome is I know that at my age it's only the beginning.

"Forget about the cruise," My other friend Marie told me. "Consider yourself fortunate you were able to visit as many wonderful and exotic places in your lifetime that you did! For example, how many people get to see Thailand!" --

-- I read that more people have visited Thailand than anyplace else on the planet, so I would say quite a few! And I was thrilled to be one of them.

However Thailand was more than just a vacation! It was an exploratory trip to a country I was considering expatriating due to the low cost of living and affordable health care there. Ditto for Ecuador in 2015.The only 100 per cent vacation recently was when Rose & I flew to the Galapagos Islands from mainland Ecuador!

However both Thailand and Ecuador proved too Third World for my taste as far as a permanent home. I also considered Mexico. I loved visiting there during the 1970's, unfortunately it's no longer as safe.

And I considered Portugal. I was there in 1977. I did not find it Third World. So I began doing research only to discover as many cons as pros to moving there.

But after the pandemic hit, I was grateful that I didn't expatriate to any of those places!

I must accept that all of these health issues come as part of the territory when getting older and deal with them as best I can here.

THE $$ CAKE

 

Life is divided into cubes, chunks & slices, mine are labeled. There's the A.D. (After Dad) period, and the B.C. (Before Candlelight, our florist shop) period. Also there's the Glorious Years (my early childhood), the Hell Years which is how I remember my teens, The Agony & Exploration years (I worked at a job I hated, but also was fortunate enough to travel the world), The Great Depression following directly afterward lasting 2 decades where the highlight of my life was grocery shopping, The New Hell Years (when my father remarried), My Roaring & Exciting Red Haired Years, and now My Gray Haired Years.

Up until the 21st century was what I refer to as The Year of the Nine Finale Pattern, because every year ending in a 9 heralded a major change; either a move to a different house, a graduation, a new job, or even the end of an old one.

Now in my Gray Haired period I feel myself teetering on the verge of another Great Depression, one which I hope will not end with my death. To die happy has always been my goal!

Online during the holidays I kept seeing this marvelous, but obscenely expensive Irish Cream Espresso cake. I've had Irish coffee and frankly, I didn't like it. However I've eaten the cake version with just a hint of Irish cream flavor without the nasty alcohol taste. And it was a heavenly new level of deliciousness!

I began lusting after that cake. Every day my willpower was weakening a little more.

My 71st birthday was coming up and mother died at age 72. If death was around the corner I wanted to die having tasted that cake! Next year I might not be able to afford such an indulgence, but this year by golly I was going to have it!

The cake was $50 but I got $20 off because I was a new customer. Then, there was the $35 shipping fee. I was starting to rethink this, but decided to proceed.

It arrived in dry ice. I had to Google how to dispose of that safely. I needed gloves and tongs along with protective clothing because it burned flesh. It felt as if I was handling nuclear waste. Google suggested leaving it outside to evaporate in a sturdy container away from animals.

My neighborhood is full of cats & dogs as well as curious squirrels. So I decided to place it out in my screened-in back porch. If a few chameleons went belly-up I'd just consider it collateral damage.

After unpacking it I immediately placed it in the freezer where it will last up to six months. This way I can enjoy it longer.

The cake tasted like one you'd buy in a fancy pastry shop rather than a supermarket. It was good, but any flavor of Irish Cream or Espresso was almost nonexistent; more like the baker took a swig and breathed on it.

But it felt special and this was a birthday I really needed it!

OKAY, NOT OKAY, I'M BACK

 

And wallowing in my misery, no apologizes! This is my blog and if I want to wallow I will! And if you have a problem with it, stop reading right here!

In just a couple days I've another birthday, my first on the wrong side of 70.

A year ago I loved my face and was proud if it! My skin still firm, I look decades younger. However now whenever I gaze in the mirror all I see is that ugly wound staring back at me like a rattlesnake!

Friends tell me not to worry because it's going to heal. Well of course it's going to heal! -- That's NOT the issue! I'm going to be stuck with one hell of a scar in a prominent spot!

Yes, there's the option of a skin graft which really isn't an option at all. I have more pressing expenses.

I'm waiting to see how it looks when it heals. If there is any way I can live with this scar I will. I need my money more than the plastic surgeon does!

Constantly I'm seeing photos of celebrities my age with comments underneath praising how good they look for their advanced years. But I can't help but wonder how many face lifts or Botox they've endured.

I've always been too poor for any of that stuff, yet I thought I looked every bit as attractive and youthful as they did -- sometimes even better! Plus I did it through clean living and good choices NOT thru plastic surgeons.

I've been meticulously careful and I do not deserve this! OK, so I wasn't as mindful of the sun during my childhood and teens, but why did this take 50 years to manifest itself?

A close friend told me that she had a skin cancer removed from a place never exposed to the sun. Why couldn't mine have been there instead, or on a hand or leg, why my face?!

A year or so before the pandemic, I was in a store and the cashier exclaimed: "You are so pretty! You must have been beautiful when you were young!" I grimaced back at her. -- No one wants to be reminded they're less than what they were. But I still looked good!

As to celebrities, there are plenty who just let themselves go and retire from public life preferring to be remembered as they were. I would never want to be remembered as I was while I'm still around!

Thankfully people are still masking up.

Also I must keep my wound moist and bandaged. Bandaging is a hassle! Due to the goofy location (an area that is constantly stretched) Band-Aid strips do not work. I was forced to use large pads that looked as if half my face was blown off with a shotgun blast.

Now that my wound has stopped bleeding and oozing I cut those pads into quarters snipping the tops & sides. I'm able to position them for a better fit.

I know many people think I place too much emphasis on my looks. These days when it comes to appearance the lack of discipline is applauded. If you care about this at all you're almost demonized.

We're bombarded with propaganda about how looks aren't important! Well, I've had a level of jealousy hurled at me that would floor a Dreadnoughtus! So I kind'a think the opposite! As my friend Pat used to say, "When anyone puts you down, stop to consider the source."

I do and wear it as a badge of pride! I've enjoyed my looks! It was a gift and one I've always felt worth preserving!