Got home from work, having a nice little lunch – cauliflower with bolognese sauce. No, cauliflower with bolognese sauce is not traditional. Some folk make faux-bolognese sauce using cauliflower vice meat. But, I had some real bolognese sauce in the freezer left over from the Carlton-Era. It was pretty good.
Anyhow, I got home. Checked the email. And, found an email from the asylum with this phrase
… we are at your name on the wait list for studios, and we have at least one to offer someone who’s ready to become a resident of Goodwin House…
So, I might be moving sooner than I wanted to. But, since I really don’t want to move anyhow – this might not be a bad thing.
Don’t tell me that I am too young, too energetic, too whatever to move to an old ladies asylum. Nobody is promised tomorrow. Everyday I go to work in a hospital. And, I know that people are discharged from hospital in no condition to look after themselves. That happened to Carlton. I was a battlefield medic for 18 months. Remember what Mr C looked like.
Can you imagine living alone and dealing with that? Not to mention the pic-line in his arm. See that post here: April 23, 2013
So, I must get myself somewhere where I hope they will look after me when and if I need it. That is why I am moving while I am still able to make my own choices.
Seeing Carlton, I am reminded of retail therapy. Over the last couple of years, I figure I spent about 2K on retail therapy. The bulk of that went to the new camera, a new lens, and the iPad w/cellular. I love them all and use them everyday. But, there were some mistakes as well. Yesterday I realized that these were not mistakes. They served well as therapy. And, now it is time to let them go. Even two thousand bucks is way cheaper than a shrink. And, the therapeutic value continued when I got rid of them. Money well spent.
BUT, if I do move soon, I hope it doesn’t mess up my Circumnavigation. No reason it should.
Longtime blog readers may remember that I can not take good pictures of irises. And every year those pesky plants reappear to taunt me. Well, once again… It is Iris Time.
