Tag Archives: Daily Post

Hard Lessons

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Learning Disabilities

I have no water in my house. I’ve had no Internet for weeks. My dog is at the vet’s having major surgery that will cost $1,000 U.S. that I need to go to the bank to withdraw along with another $1,000 I offered to loan to a friend to buy a car they need to buy who just called to say they need the money tomorrow! Problem is I can’t get to the bank because I’m hoping for a call from Telmex saying they’ve figured out my internet problem––and the plumber who is going to try to come at 3. All this and to top off the perfect day, I have amoebas and the new medicine I got yesterday has given me a headache and fever. Or I’m just stressing out and the entire kit and caboodle is giving me a fever and headache.

I’m beginning to fear I’m no longer able to handle running a house. The floor is covered by boxes of three different types of tile I have laid out to try them out. I have a dozen things to complete before I leave in a little more than a week. I’ve been trying to get a haircut for a month, but no time to do so. Gripe gripe gripe. You would think I would learn, but somehow time and time again I am getting into these high-stress situations where hyperventilation is the norm.

From a perfectly organized house last night my house has turned into a disaster area. Files from the file cabinet lay piled on the headboard/case of my bed—leftovers as I looked for a brochure of the water system to try to figure out what particular tube I need for the purification system. My bed is covered by the contents of six different big baskets I pulled down from the closet to look for a pair of gloves to handle the tube I bought after visiting four different water supply places. No, none had a man to come install it. Yes, I broke it installing it. Good thing I had one glove on—all I could find.

My desk is covered by little slips of paper concerning tile types, prices, business cards, discarded amoeba meds (wrong variety for what the lab told me yesterday) and old VHS tapes (what are those doing there?) Earlier, when I needed to call the water place to see if they could locate another purification tube light (answer was no) I couldn’t find one phone of four that I have in the house that was still in its cradle. Then when I did, turns out one of the lost phones was clicked on so I couldn’t call anyway. Search house again. Finally found it on the bookcase by the doggie domain. What in the world was it doing there and where in the world are the other 3 phones that are still lost? Last night I found them all and restored them to their cradles. Do I have Telmex poltergeists infesting my house every night?

Yes. At.The. End. Of. My.Rope.

Should I move? Can’t stand to think about that. Perhaps there is someone pleasant willing to trade free rent of my casita for a few managerial tasks such as dealing with electricity, phone, internet, gas and minor construction. No, I don’t need a keeper yet, but my house certainly does. It seems to be reaching that age when everything needs attending to. Walls aren’t crumbling, but floors need replacing, the walls painted less than a year ago need a second coat, and someone needs to search the Virginia creeper vines to find those hummingbird moth caterpillars that are pooping bee bees all over my terrace table and the steps outside the doggie domain.

Yes. At. The. End. Of. My. Rope.

I need to pick up Frida in an hour and still can’t get hold of Pasiano or Yolanda to come let the plumber in. If the plumber comes. And even then, I won’t have purified water—just water, at least, to flush toilets and wash with.

Headache. Chills. Frustration. Breathe. No one has died, at least today. Calm down. Was I always such a fussbudget? Yesterday I was screaming “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” when I had for the zillionth time lost my keys. They were no place. How could I be so dumb???? It was past time to leave for something important and the other set of car keys had vanished into the void 4 years ago. This was my last set. Last chance. I looked in the outside locks, the inside locks, the bathrooms, kitchen, under the bed, on the nail on the wall where I usually hung them. Emptied out my purse. Twice.

I imagine, now, neighbors passing in the street hearing this madwoman scream invectives at herself. With all my doors and windows open, they must be able to hear me as clearly as if they were inside my house. For 15 years, I’ve overlooked this fact until once earlier this year when all three of my dogs were barking and I roared “Frida!!! Stop!!!!” above the din, a friend protested,“Judy! You are worse than the dogs. You should hear yourself. You must scare the neighbors!” my friend uttered this softly. Unlike me.

I had to shout to be heard above the dogs, right? But did I need to scream at the keys?

I found them eventually and was only 10 minutes late to the appointment I started to leave for half an hour early. I found them by calmly retracing my steps which took me eventually by my open closet door with the new file cabinet inside—my keys dangling from its lock. I had gone to get some necessary file, but the cabinet is so new it had not yet been added to my key recovery route. It has been now.

I am, you see, capable of learning. It’s the remembering that is the hard part.

The End (Perhaps)

Postscript: Just now the lovely lovely girl from Techno Agua called. She has called all over town and located the right water purification tube light. It is 60 pesos above the price I paid for one this morning. Is that a problem? No problem. The plumber can come at 3. I just called Pasiano and although he still is not answering his phone and although Yolanda is working and can’t come to let the plumber in, her husband has agreed to do so; so when he arrives, I can go, hopefully, to the bank and then to get Frida. The tide is turning. Maybe today will turn out to be slightly less frustrating than earlier happenings indicated. 

An hour later: good news and bad news. I got to the bank in time to get the $1,000 U.S. for the surgery and the $1,000 for the car, but when I got to the vet’s I was informed that Frida still hasn’t awakened and so I need to leave her for the night. They assure me they’ll feed and water her when she wakes up, but although I understand I can’t take an unconscious dog home, nonetheless I know she’ll be traumatized to wake up in a cage away from home and to have to spend the night there. Also, I was supposed to sit the info booth at the Lake Chapala Society tomorrow so will have to try to find someone to sit in so I can go get Frida and take her home. Always a new thrill. Still no internet at home, so I am at the mall. Getting to be a regular mall rat as they have free wifi and otherwise it is $15 U.S. a day to use my phone as a hot spot as I was over my limit in just four days.

Are you tired of my whining yet?

 

The Prompt word today was “Learning.”

My Life by Tens

My Life by Tens

Up to Age One? Cares had I none.
At age ten? Pretty zen.
Then at twenty? Zip aplenty.
Turning thirty? Feeling flirty.
Nearing forty? Lithe and sporty.
Turning Fifty? Bali’s  nifty.
Big six-oh? More oats to sow.
Big seven-oh? One year to go.

 

(Click first photo to enlarge and see years.  Hover to just see years.)

 

The prompt today was “FIfty.”  This was all I could come up with.

A Youthful Calling

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A Youthful Calling

Oh that I had been born later
in an age more prone to cater
to the new technology
that simply doesn’t gel with me.
I must ask. Is it me alone
who can no longer use the phone?
What every eight year old has mastered
makes me feel completely plastered.
Those buttons simply don’t make sense.
They leave me rattled, shaken, tense––
uttering words you’d find uncouth.
I do not glorify my youth,
but bygone memories do linger
of dials that fit a human finger––
phones simply used to call a friend
instead of apps that never end.
iPhone? I fear I’m not a fan.
I want a phone I’m smarter than.

The Prompt today was “Youth.”  In the weeks since my internet has increasingly become nonexistent, I’ve been relying on my iPhone to furnish a hotspot to post from.  Unfortunately, for the past few days, as my phone registered its full limit, I’ve been waiting for my usage to flip back to 0 MB, but alas it hasn’t.  Finally I went to Telcel where I was assigned to a young man whose knowledge of a little English rendered him understanding of my faulty Spanish and, like a gift from the gods, he informed me that the 1 GB was what I’d used in the past year, not in the past month, and he downloaded an app that will keep me informed of my month’s usage and flip over each month. (In addition, I learned that the price of extra MB’s is 25 cents Mexican per MB which is less than 2 U.S. cents!  So, I’m back to 1 MB usage and a bit less tense about the fact that I’m beginning my second week of no wifi.  Telmex (the phone company as opposed to Telcel, the cellphone company––both owned by the near-richest man in the world, Carlos Slim) was closed today so I’ll try again Monday. Perhaps I’ll just cancel my internet and landline and opt for more MGs on my phone.  It, at least, seems to be consistent in its service.

Before I left Telcel, I quipped to my young “savior” that along with their better understanding of Smart phones and iPhones, I have a feeling that future generations are going to be born with one little pointed finger more adapted to those tiny buttons on the cellphone. He laughed and assured me that I’d become accustomed to them, but I have my doubts. So, that is the backstory to this poem, as after leaving the Telcel center in the mall, I went to the food court which has free wifi and wrote the above poem.

If I’m not commenting on blogs or posting as much as before, this has been why.  May wifi at home be in my near future.  So far my complaints have not brought action.

Two Poems from a Night with No Moon

Two Poems from a Night with No Moon

I wrote these poems two years ago, but I had forgotten them, so perhaps even  if you read them then, you have forgotten them, too.

This Night is Broken

With all of its sounds
spilled out,
someone else’s sounds
echo around it.

The space inside of it
is broken, too.
Only the constant rain
seeks to fill it.

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Falling Practice

Twice on the stairs last week
and once in the kitchen—
lately, these falls
have been coming in threes.

Tonight in the moonless dark, I tripped
over the low metal bench beside the hot tub.
Then a loud bang sent me searching
to find the heavy husk fallen from the palm tree.

I do not venture out alone again,
but sit on the patio
in the light of my laptop,
hoping to escape the third fall.

Your face on the screen turns green
from the reflection of the string
of Chinese lanterns
as we succumb to hard truths.

I fell in love with you so quickly,
but even all these falls
have not taught me how
to fall out of love with you.

 

The Prompt today was “Moon

 

 

Ghosts

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My internet which has been out since yesterday just came back on and since I have an appointment in 25 minutes in Ajijic, I need to leave; so since I have just discovered the prompt word today is “Ghost,” I think it would be appropriate to reblog this blog about Dia de los Muertos in Ajijic last year.  Mary, this one is for you.. It tells the story you wanted to hear.  Please click on the below URL to see the tale and and photos that illustrate it:

https://judydykstrabrown.com/2015/11/02/pantheon-afternoon-dia-de-los-muertos-ajijic-mx-2015/

Carrying On

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Carrying On

Were they carrying? That’s the buzz.
Was she carrying? Likely was.
In nine months we’ll know for sure,
but we’ll never know if the brothers were.

He carried the play. His voice carried well.
The truth of it they’re sure to tell
as the paper carrier carries the news––
the comics, headlines, play reviews.

Three into ten and carry one.
In long division, that’s half the fun.
Carry on and carry through,
for no one else will carry you.

Those cutter ants you love to hate
can carry 100 times their weight.
We pack 30 pounds in carry-on cases,
carry-out burgers from carry-out places.

Half our lives we carry on.
Then when we are dead and gone,
removed from all this carrying fuss,
what friends are left will carry us.

 

It is probably obvious that the prompt word today was “Carry.”

Roundabout

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Roundabout

When we were younger, we all were amused
as my mom steadily grew more confused––
losing her keys and her glasses and purse.
Each year of her life, it seemed to get worse.
At tax time she snorted, she fussed and she stewed
as her simple receipts she sorted and viewed.
One thing at a time was all she could do.
She grew somewhat flustered when confronted with two.
It was a puzzle for those forced to view it.
With much less to do, she took longer to do it.

But now as my seventies get so much nearer,
what my mother faced is getting much clearer.
Once a multi-task wizard, I find even two
tasks at one time are too much to do.
When on the computer I now have to think
to accomplish functions once done in a blink.
The names of close friends I now search my brain for.
What once came so easily, I must now strain for.
I still have my memory—try to believe it.
It just takes me longer to sort and retrieve it.

When it comes to time limits, I just confuse myself.
In games like Trivia, I must recuse myself.
The end of my stories I’m often delaying,
for I can’t recall what I started out saying.
When I finally remember why I came to town,
I’ve forgotten the list where I carefully wrote down
all of my errands and then what is worse,
when I get back home, they are there in my purse!
I’m glad I’ve no kids with whom I can share
or they’d already have me in memory care.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/confused/

Complicated by Nature

Complicated by Nature

I find my mind keeps spinning until my brain grows weary
ever since I foolishly googled “chaos theory.”

While fatalists declare the world caught up in its rut,
the chaos theorists have theories I cannot rebut

wherein each thing duplicated differs from the last
because of other factors than the mold from which they’re cast.

And suddenly I have excuses for each thing I do.
Why my cake has fallen, and why my bras turned blue

the last time that I washed them the detergent was the same,
and yet something perhaps had changed–chaos theory is to blame!!!

Each snowflake varies from last, each flower is unique.
It seems that our creator demands a bit of tweak

in everything created. Chaos affects  everything.
I guess that Mother Nature wants to keep it interesting!!!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/complicated/

To Reach for is Not To Reach

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Reach

When fate makes a fissure, we’ve three ways to go.
One is acceptance, another is woe.
But the third is to shatter the old status quo
by using the break as a window to show
a new direction where we may go
to learn what before we had no way to know.
What makes a man’s life is what’s beyond his reach.
Why stop at a wall when you could make a breach?
What today is impossible may be the goal
for a man with a chisel who carves out a hole.

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/reach/

My Obsessions

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My Obsessions

I’m not obsessed by fancy cars, heroin or grog.
What am I obsessed by? Chocolate and my blog.
I cannot resist them. My fingers itch for either.
Until I’ve finished both of them, I cannot take a breather.
Thankfully just one of them is fattening, for you see
although I scarf down chocolate, it’s my blog that consumes me!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/obsessed/