The Gramzie Chronicles

  Retirement is a gift. The flexibility of my days is what I view as the best part of it. I love being home, doing home things. One of my long-lived shortcomings, however, is planning ahead, then being paralyzed from doing anything when something disrupts said plans. It would leave me thinking "now what do I do"??, as well as indiscriminate day drinking. Needless to say, nothing got accomplished. Now, as I've navigated through my mental health struggles, and had success with medication, therapy, and coping skills, plus a new love of non-alcoholic beer, those days are no longer a problem for me. The solution ended up being a very simple matter of changing my mindset. Instead of throwing up my hands and not have a clue what to do with my day, I now say "it's a good day to (fill in the blank)". Whatever had once been on the potential docket gets moved in favor of what will actually work for that day instead. Today is an excellent example. I had hoped to spend t...

  It's been a serendipitous day. As I was preparing to go to my appointment for my annual check, the phone rang, informing me that my amazing practitioner was out today due to a family emergency. Rescheduled, no problem; it's only a week. So now I'm feeling a little at loose ends, actually wearing something that matches, and getting breakfast earlier that expected. In the mood to take care of things, I got my annual photo shoot for my girls scheduled, as well as my bone scan. Now we are getting somewhere, checking those pesky self-care chores off. And just when I'm contemplating a Target run, my phone rang again. It was our contractor, asking if he could come down with the electrician to look over the kitchen.  If I'd been at my appointment, I'd have missed it! See? Serendipity. So now the kitchen's wiring needs are mapped out. The cherry on that cake is he will start this Friday. I also expect to have the countertop guy by pretty soon, as that is the only t...

  I've found myself at the point where I don't want to go out anymore. You've heard the old adage that you know you live in a small town when everyone knows more about you than you. Now, before I get started, I need to clarify that those coming to me with questions are not showing malice or ill intent by approaching me. It is all about putting all of us in a very uncomfortable position. People make assumptions all the time. I'm just as guilty, although I'll certainly be more careful now. As part of a big family and still living in our hometown, it's only natural that many would assume there is a still a bond simply because of geography or that we shared a surname. I am struggling to phrase this carefully so as not to inflame what is already a fractured and dysfunctional relationship, also because frankly, it's no one's business.  There has been concern regarding a family member and I have been confronted several times with questions I cannot answer. My k...

Randy's often-quoted lament is "we just can't have nice things" every time something gets damaged or ruined. In the shop, with young "apprentices", this happens more often than he likes. In the house, well, we live  there. It's not a showplace but I really like everything neat, clean, in good repair, and welcoming. This past weekend, a full three days in a row, tested every last shred of patience and grit I had as, it seemed, everything that could go wrong, did. You've had days like that, right? I won't bore you with the laundry list, but suffice it to say, it was little things from the light switch in our relatively new refrigerator being broken off to the air conditioner taking a dump to a planned girls' weekend gone awry. The very last thing, I hope, was my vacuum cleaner literally falling apart... At that point, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry...so I did both. You know that infamous "list" I've compiled for after t...

  I had a rather impressive, or so I thought, list of things I could finally do when we returned from our trip across the pond. Things that would aid in distracting me from the fact that the kitchen is still in its stripper stage. I've hit a wall, of sorts. Earlier this spring, we had removed all the mulch from around the house because the dog was eating it, no matter what we did.  Tired of him puking on the carpet, in his crate, and leaving the even less appealing evidence on the yard, we dug it all out. At the same time, we culled out old flowers that had become root bound or were just not thriving. Now, thanks to that infamous list, I have fresh plantings in the beds, but no plans to add mulch or ground cover until I see what will thrive and how it fills out the space. Then I'll need some guidance on what to spread that won't appeal to the indiscriminate snacker. For now, my hand tiller will keep the soil mellow and weed-free. Check. At an influencer's advice, I refr...

  I have always subscribed to the notion that the best part of traveling is coming back home. As much as I loved Ireland, walking into our house was the cherry on the cake of a fantastic experience. Of course, I had compiled a list of "things to do when we get back", and even though I came home as an incubus of viral plague (a roaring sinus infection), I couldn't let that deter me. Before asking why I didn't go to the clinic, I always give myself time to fight off whatever comes up first, unless there is a fever present. I have a pretty strong immune system. I wasn't sick the entire trip. I believe it was brought on by Tuesday evening, singing along with an amazing three-man band following supper in the last few days before heading back. I woke up raspy, thinking it was the enthusiastic crowd performance, egged on by the band. That progressed over the next couple of days, culminating in being deaf in one ear after the two flights, lots of snots, and a productive c...

  Apologies for the delay in posting! Our once-in-a-lifetime trip kept us hopping, with packing, closing up the shop and house, boarding the dog...the list went on and on. We were especially happy to have the diversion of this event as our cabinets had not yet been started when we left. I could wax poetic over the spectacle of Ireland, but today I want to share an observation, one that has left me humbled and proud to have so much of these lovely people's blood running through my veins. From the flight attendants to the hotel personnel to the shop owners, to name only a few, at no time was there any trace of rudeness, impatience, or upset. Never. Not what we see here, almost daily, in one place or another. The Irish are welcoming, generous, and kind, not just because we were tourists, either. They treated us like guests in their own homes, as old friends, not strangers. In strolling the pretty streets, it became a common occurrence to be stopped for a visit. No one acted nosy,...