One of my adult children asked me what my days were like while wintering in Miramar Beach, Florida. I explained: You know, my life back in Decatur is pretty easy but here in Miramar Beach, Florida it's a rocking chair. I don't have many decisions to make back home but even fewer down here.
I get up every morning around 5:30AM. I do that no matter North or South and it has nothing to do with weather or location but everything to do with being old and I'm just tickled to wake up. I post my blog, check my email and then check my blood sugar to determine what type food menu day I'll be embracing. It's about that time when toy poodle, Yodie meanders downstairs, stands before me, rakes his hind leg across the carpet and growls, which signifies, 'get off your butt old man" because I need to relieve myself. I then grab the leash, doggy-poop-bags and head outside. I get a short a walk and a couple of 'waist-bends-poop-scoops.'
Yodie expects food when returning to the house, therefore I make his breakfast. I return to the iPad where I read a few newspapers. Around the seven o'clock hour, I make breakfast for my wife and I and take it on a tray back our bedroom. We enjoy watching the morning news with our breakfast 'pecks.' Mid-morning, I usually take my first of two one mile walks. The second one comes mid-afternoon. Some days I find writing time other days I may attend a Bible Study class or do some casual shopping.
If it's a good sun day, I either head to the pool with the old farts or to the backyard with Yodie. Dog time alone in the backyard is the safer bet for me. I'm not inclined to become involved in a conversation, which I find more and more problematic these days. I did go to the pool one day only to have somebody start that goofy crap about 'fake' news. When that happens, I usually take my second mile walk and head for Poodle time.
One bright sunny pool day, I was kicked back in a recliner and nearly snoozing when I heard familiar voices. I peaked out from under my straw hat and noticed it was those ladies I overheard a week ago in a conversation by the Beach board-walk. Perhaps you'll recall that day when this one gal was bemoaning the fact that she needed to replenish her supply of Depends because her 'leaking' was worsening. Well, this time she was detailing a visit with her gynecologist years ago when she was a young woman unable to get pregnant. In a loud voice she said, "Well, you could've knocked over with a feather when my doctor while examining me said, "Here's your problem, you got a Flipped-uterus." I could not resist. I sat up quickly from my recliner and exclaimed, "Don't you just hate it when that happens?" Another fella yelled out, "Oh, that's ugly, too."
As I headed out the pool complex for my walk, I now had a better understanding of the gals 'leaking' issues, today. Perhaps it also sheds light on her husband's chronic back problems.
Oh my, how pool side conversational topics changed over the years!
(Touch)
Talk Too Much
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