Monday, September 23, 2019

As the world turns, these are the days of our lives

...but we are definitely not the young and the restless. This week, a few days before the autumnal equinox, our firstborn turned 55.

We are old.

But you knew that.

A couple of days later one of our smoke alarms started chirping. I hauled our five-foot ladder out of its comfy place in the garage and brought it into the front hallway. I knew the smoke alarm needed a new 9-volt battery and I thought I had one in the kitchen drawer where we keep miscellaneous things. Rummaging through the drawer, I found a cheese grater, clear plastic salad tongs (the tongs are clear plastic, not the salads), wooden skewers for cooking, two screwdrivers, a hammer, a yellow plastic funnel, a package of Disposable Latex Gloves, and (voila!) some batteries -- AA batteries, AAA batteries, C batteries, D batteries, and finally a 9-volt battery. I returned to the front hall with my prize.

After ascending the ladder -- Mrs. RWP was afraid I would fall off -- and removing the contraption from its ceiling bracket, I realized that I had no idea what to do next. It was still attached by wires to the ceiling and I didn't know how to disengage the wires. I also couldn't see from my angle how to open the contraption and replace the battery. I decided to call my second child who lives about 20 minutes away.

He said he would come over and take care of it, and he did. I tried to watch closely enough to be able to do it myself in the future. He had bought a 9-volt battery on the way over, which was a good thing because the one I had found in the miscellaneous drawer was a tad out of date.































More than a tad, actually.































I am not, repeat, not a hoarder. If I were a hoarder, we would have drawers and drawers full of miscellaneous stuff instead of just one, and the rooms would be impassable for all the clutter, and the sink would be piled high with dirty dishes. I have watched television. I know.

So life goes on and the world keeps turning.

Thanks be to God.

In five more days this blog will be 12 years old. Next year we might have a bar mitzvah.

15 comments:

  1. You could have asked me for batteries. I had a bag so heavy I could not lift it, all in date. I buy batteries when there is a Christmas special. no, I am not a hoarder. I just need batteries. My grandson gets batteries and socks for Christmas since I never know anymore what he like or wants. Now, I have no batteries at all or flashlights to use.

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  2. Smoke alarms are one of those necessary pains-in-the-neck.

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  3. At my age time moves so fast I have to remind myself that 2005 was not just yesterday! Congratulations on your coming blog anniversary.

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    Replies
    1. Bonnie, in the blink of an eye it will be 2041 and I will be 100 years old, God willing.

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  4. New reader here, and I am enjoying your blog. Love your sense of humor. Happy blog anniversary!

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    1. Kathy, welcome to the blog! There are 1,772 posts to date if you care to browse through them.

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  5. Hooray for helpful sons.
    And for the absence of restlessness.

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  6. Thank heavens your other son was able to pop over in order to sort out the problem. Was he wearing a cape with a big "S" on his T-shirt? It is understandable that Ellie was anxious about you falling from the ladder. In future you should wear one of those foam rubber sumo wrestler suits before ascending any ladders as the suit will provide excellent protection should you fall.

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    Replies
    1. Neil, you always say just the wrong thing. (By contrast, see my response to Sue above.)

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  7. I could have supplied a battery too. Indeed I've just looked and I could have supplied 6 9V batteries (all in date). I have 4 smoke alarms and a carbon monoxide alarm. In fact I use far too many batteries because my house has emergency and casual night lighting which is all battery powered. As for being a hoarder I have a clear out at least once a year and I still seem to have more books that I did 5 years ago (I don't really - truly I don't).

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    Replies
    1. Graham, socks that disappear in the laundry become books in their afterlife. Everybody knows that.

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    2. That explains a lot. I shall try telling that to the single socks in my wardrobe hoping to be re-united with their loved ones.

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