Meeting the Neighbors

We had a dead pine cut down this week in our side yard. It was a pretty tall tree.

It's the one on the far left side in this picture.

I was more than a little worried about the guy we were using, The tree was close to our (new) neighbors' fence and house, hence the urgency to get it down before hurricane season. 

Every time tree dude returned my calls, he acted like he didn't remember who I was or where I lived, or sounded like I woke him out of a dead sleep.

And he'd already been to our house twice.

My brothers' neighbor up the street assured me he'd be fine to use. He was the one who recommended him, and the old codger actually did give us a pretty good price.

For five hundred dollars, he was willing to take the tree down, stack the wood and haul it all away.

I was glad I was working the day he came to do it. I was already nervous about it.

Tim happened to be off that day and promised me he'd keep an eye on everything.

Here's a picture of what Tim looks like keeping an eye on things on his day off.

This one was taken during a direct hit from a hurricane.

Not kidding.

Obviously our bulldog, Charlie was cut from the same cloth/sloth.

I left for work worried.

I came home to a dead pine cut down and hauled away.

Ole Jed done good on his watch.

Tim said he went out into the yard to introduce himself to the tree guy (at least my age if not older) I had contacted and and hired. He told him as soon as they were through with the tree he'd give him a check for five hundred dollars.

Tim said that was when a younger, brawny looking guy stepped forward and extended his hand, saying he was the one who would be climbing the tree and taking it down.

Tim said the dude who  I had contacted did absolutely nothing, other than to have brought a crew of about six young men with him, as they all stood back...across the street, while the top limbs dropped. Once they were all lopped off the guys scrambled to pile them in the trailer as the guy climbed back down the tree.

Then the guy simply started about five inches off the ground and felled the entire tree with his chain saw.

Tim said it was a pretty loud boom.

Once again the workers went into action. As soon as the guy cut the tree up, they hauled it to the trailer.

Tim said it was all said and down in a little over an hour.

So I'm going with the assumption that tree service is just like politics.

You got a guy selling the job.

He does nothing but bait and hook.

Then he hires a posse to do his grunt work.

But has in his back pocket, taking probably more money than he does home, his ace in the hole.

A man who can climb and fell a hundred foot tall dead pine like its nothing, and leave no damage.

My neighbors behind us were thrilled the tree, looming over their property was gone, and can't blame them.

I was talking with the wife a couple of weeks ago and mentioned how in love I was with my yard but had no idea what I had growing, blooming or how to care for it.

BAM!

She told me her neighbor two doors down was a master gardener and gave me her name.

I stopped by the other day, actually the day the tree came down and introduced my Hillbilly self.

Her yard is an absolute paradise.

They (she and her husband) were so gracious with me just barging in and she said she would absolutely love to walk the yard with me and give me a few tips.

My sister had mentioned me finding someone to tell me about all the indigenous growth in our yard when we first moved and and feel so lucky I found the perfect person, with her encouragement.

Still boggles my mind every single day that this is our yard now.

Moving here was tougher than tough.

It took me a minute.

 Not gonna lie.

It took me more than a couple.

Then I realized, this was the plan!

It is different and will be better for us...but is still hard to take, being gone, from our them.

No truer statement, in my book.

But that's just me.

#learninghowtotakeaselfie

Til  next time, 

COTTON

Old People

Suddenly, somehow out of nowhere, I am one.

So is Tim.

When people mention something from thirty years ago, I tend to think they mean the seventies, when I was barely a teen.

They don't.

They mean around the time when our oldest son was born, who is now almost in his mid thirties.

Talk about a wake up call and slap in the wrinkled old face.

When we were recently purchasing our home here, the entire process with our lender was borderline comical...unless you worked in the lenders' office. 

Then it was just a hoot, I'm sure.

Tim and I aren't all that behind the times, and are actually two pretty cool old peeps. 

But ask us to do something new or different on a computer, and it's a struggle.

Lucky for us our youngest still lives at home and is a millennial mastermind in this new world of  "Everything World Wide Web(ish)."

#itsalwaysleftclickmom

The problem is, she doesn't mind helping, but prefers to do it for us rather than teach us how.

#slowlearners

Case in point:

Tim's bank account got hacked with several fraudulent charges the other day. He needed a copy of his long form birth certificate and tried using a website which ended up being bogus. Unfortunately they got enough info before he cancelled the transaction to access his account. It took him over an hour on the phone with our credit union and with Wells Fargo to get everything straightened out.  Cards cancelled,  new cards issued and fraudulent charges removed.

I was cooking dinner as he sat at the kitchen table talking with the credit union. He finally thanked the person for all of their help, once everything was resolved and replied "You have a good day as well."

Once Tim hung up, I didn't even turn around... just said "You know what that guy at the bank just said to the employee sitting next to him, don't you?"  

"Old people...sheesh!"

Tim said "That's probably exactly what he said."

At least we know, acknowledge and own our weakness.

I care nothing about learning any more about the cyber world than I need . I simply want to be able and survive in it.

I'm a pen on paper kind of gal. I like snail mail. I kinda miss having a land line. Texting is okay (after a rocky start in the nineties) but Instagram, and all those other silly sites like Snapchat simply don't interest me and couldn't care less how they work or how to use them.

Maybe if I took a good selfie it'd be a different story, but I don't, so it ain't.

I read an article about Elton John. He doesn't own a cell phone.

Never has.

That's my kind of guy.

Of course he pays others to do it for him, but still...good for him!

If I had never raised kids, I could totally see me without a cell phone until I needed a Jitterbug for survival in the old folks home in case my 'Rascal/Hoveround' ran out of juice while on a jaunt around the grounds...searching for a way out.

I'm content to simply bumble my way through this whole explosion of technology, which in my opinion, is highly over rated.

For me, a smile and tight hug beat an emoji and GIF any day of the week, any way you look at (or feel) it.

At least I'm still swinging ...when most people are just clicking.

#lazy!

Change is good. As long as you remember where that change came from.

Til next time, 

COTTON

#BoutKiltMe #WoreSlapOut #WeeDoggies

I'm not complaining.

I wanted this house and all of  Mother Nature surrounding it, which is what made it every thing I've ever wanted in a place to call home. 

But those leaves?

Number one: its been over three years since I've done any serious yard work.

Number two: that makes me almost fifty nine years old now.

 I did manage to get the firepit looking pretty good.

Overgrown fire pit before...

 And after...

I blew the leaves into about three different piles,

 no probs!

Bagging twenty bags of leaves from a standing position is a whole different story.

#BeenThereDoneThat(now)

I felt (a little) better when my twenty three year old daughter got kinda flushed too, when helping me bag one afternoon.

I have a pretty physically demanding job (if done correctly) and have been doing it almost spot on for forty years now.

But those leaves, that rake, the constant bending over from the waist, then standing right back up, over and over and over again?

But you know what?

 So what?

I used to wear a rake out, but unfortunately now a rake wears me out.

 If that's the worst thing to happen to me,

I got off easy.

#Blessed

 I will have to say, this whole yard raking adventure has totally reminded me of one of my better stories, from about two decades ago.

We were all at the beach one July. My family, our brother, our Diddy, my sister and her family.

All the kids (way) pre teen were doing  cartwheels on the beach one afternoon when I commented,"You think that's a cartwheel?"

They asked if I could still do a cartwheel?

I said "Sure I can. I can even do a round off !"

#Notagoodideawhenalmostfortyanddrinking

Of course I rocked out a couple of cartwheels and even (barely) managed a round off.

It was easy to do, us adults liked doing some drankin' on the beach!

The next morning I came downstairs for breakfast in the kitchen, limping like a cripple and said,

to no one in particular...

"Was last night our wedding anniversay or was I doing cartwheels on the beach yesterday?"

Not a one of the youngins' (six of 'em) thought any thing about my comment...until my Diddy said "Kelly, stop it!"

Me and my sister have laughed about it for years.

You can worry yourself sick about life or about your problems, or about things you can't change.

Or you can strive to make every single day one to smile about.

No matter what.

Someone else always has it harder than you do.

Learn to enjoy your own good fortune,

and always pay it forward.

Karma is real.

I may be getting older, but it certainly beats the alternative.

Til Next time...COTTON

Good Will Always Pays it Forward

They built a brand spanking new Goodwill, here in our part of OTown.

It is my new favorite place to wander through, at least once a week.

It's the Nordstrom of Thrift Stores with Yard Sale prices.

I don't do the clothes so much anymore, but always have my eye out.

My latest GoTo has been furniture, frames or room/wall decor.

Number one, it is hands down the friendliest staff of co workers... ever.

Bonus points the customers are all super courteous as well.

It is clean , organized, great place to not only find bargains but treasures as well...while also helping others who need a hand up.

I donate there and I shop there.

Talk about a win/win?

 The actual definition of Good-Will is:

A kind or friendly attitude. Benevolence (an inclination to perform generous acts)

Some of my greatest finds have been at Goodwill...

 and not only wonderful treasures found but even more delightful acquaintances made.

Everyone always has a different story.

 Sometimes even some of them have a similiar story in common.

Why the concept and premise of Goodwill, Salvation Army and Red Cross hasn't spread like wildfire is beyond comprehension to me.

That these types of organizations are constantly needing, and having to ask for assistance is ridiculous

(and embarrassing to me) as an American.

I'm by far not the sharpest tool in the shed, but even "I" get it!

Can't we (and shouldn't we) help each other along the journey?

The more you give, the more you get.

(been there, done that)

#Truefact

Don't fixate on hate, concentrate... and compromise on peaceful coexistence.

From my first adulting experience

which I horribly stumbled and bumbled my way through, I luckily learned this lesson, later than sooner...but at least I lived to learn it.

They used to make fun of me for getting older

at my birthday parties.

(my fortieth and fiftieth)

  I wish I'd saved all their gag gifts...

because I am old now!

At least I am still beating the alternative, for now.

We should all try and beat it together,

because we all are one!

We're all we got.

"Duh"

#Itisnotrocketscience

Make one random person smile, at least twice a day.

Then eventually bump it up to every chance you get.

What goes around comes around.

Positivity.

Just like my momma often quoted "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

One of the best lessons she ever taught me.

Love someone.

Til next time, COTTON