tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30975557.post5614079817966852738..comments2024-03-27T14:58:25.730-07:00Comments on View from the Cottage: Coming to grips with life and its realitiesJudy Alterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05147106159914535549noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30975557.post-28513764879406769212016-10-20T07:01:50.785-07:002016-10-20T07:01:50.785-07:00Good morning, Judy! And it is a GREAT morning! Ove...Good morning, Judy! And it is a GREAT morning! Overcast and my thermometer (posted out of the wind and sun on the big back patio) reads 67. I love it! Now, if it will only rain so I don't have to drag the hose a hundred feet around and around . . . In regard to your falling, yes, I have that problem as well and, being obstinate and grouchy, I really need to use my cane everywhere including around the house. But, I keep thinking that if I deny the cane as much as possible, eventually everything will correct itself. Symptomatic of an old man trying to deny age? Probably. I, too, fall quite frequently. Once while I was inserting a DVD, suddenly found myself falling, my head bouncing off he stone hearth then the floor. (That's actually happened more than once.) My daughter firmly commanded me NOT to climb up on anything---a chair, stepstool, you name it---even to not replacing light bulbs. Which, of course, means I have to wait until my caregiver comes. Yesterday, for example, Linda Kosier (a very, very good friend who always pleases me and makes me happy when we meet somewhere for lunch, a movie, or just to visit) and I met at the Museum of Modern Art for lunch---one of my very favorite places---very expensive, but I do so enjoy indulging myself at times. Sometimes, when I'm feeling very depressed, I drive up there by myself for lunch. When one lives alone as long as I have---and most of the time quite happy doing so---the silence bears down hard upon them. Of course, I do talk with Miss Bella and play some quiet blues or jazz, Vivaldi (Four Seasons), or Chopin's Nocturnes but there are times when even that doesn't relieve the, well, perhaps "nostalgia" would be a good way to describe it. After a two-and-a-half hour lunch, we went up to the Kimble to see the Monet exhibit. While walking around up there, I started to tire drastically and had to repeatedly sit down. I became dizzy, and Linda graciously took my arm and said we should call it a day. (Fortunately, she is six foot tall and handled it all with ease.) I, being a curmudgeon, refused saying that I had been waiting to see the exhibit for six months before it was brought to the Kimble. I had actually wanted to go to the Members Only night, but couldn't. (I'm one of the founders and charter member.) One of the guards recognized me and offered to get a wheelchair to help, but, again, being stubborn, I refused. (He kept an eye on me for the rest of the time we were there---a wonderful thing to happen.) Finally, though, I had to concede that I had to give up. Linda went to get her car to drive me up to mine which was parked in a handicap slot in front of the MOMA. It wasn't that bad as she had driven us from the MOMA to Kimball. (That's only one block, as you know.) But, it was a great day. In addition, one of the people came to me and said that later next fall, the Kimball was going to have another Monet exhibit---the later years---and wondered if they could borrow mine if they would fit in with the exhibit they were planning. All in all, a great day.<br />Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10302909967873564863noreply@blogger.com