More or less the Drudge Report

Hardly moving in Orlando traffic snarl with storm brewing.


Hi all...and no I am not dead yet. Almost, but not yet. Moving "the ancient one," otherwise known as my Dad, has been a lot of work, otherwise known as drudgery, making me the "drudge" and this is the report.

"The ancient one" is nearly 90 years and has hips that are nearly 150 years, or so it seems, which is why we are moving him here. His house and belongings are/were old and dingy. We have begged and pleaded for years to get him out of there for a fresh start and closer to family. And we are glad he is finally doing it......BUT....I have had my hands in soapy water for days, carried heavy boxes for days (which once again has thrown my back for a loop), packed and unpacked stuff that should have been dealt with 30 years ago, and we drove for two solid days down and back, getting here at 3:00 am a couple of days ago, and THEN had to deal with sarcastic movers one of whom had a pierced lower lip with a metal pointy thing that looked like it would hurt someone really badly. This particular mover was drinking those triple caffeine energy drinks which turned him into a bouncing acrobat, jumping all over the furniture in the van and turning the unloading into Le Cirque de Soleil right there in the parking lot of the apartment complex. Broken lampshades and a few scratches on a couple of pieces of furniture are the worst of the property damage. Now we are trying to place family antiques within the family and my house looks like a bomb went off. Dad's apartment looks like a bomb went off, too, so both households are in such a mess that it is going to take some more time, or should I say more drudgery, to get this straightened out. (Maybe I need to drink that caffeine stuff the mover had.)

As for "the ancient one"..imagine a nearly 90 year old guy who walks around with a cane and cell phone with the ear piece in his ear all day waiting for calls. Also imagine "the ancient one" loves the attention of younger women, which at his age gives him quite a range of choices.

I have to say that my husband has stepped up and worked his tail off also, helping to make this move happen. We are laughing at the harangues we encounter during this transition and reminding ourselves that we will be old and decrepit and needing help someday, so a little kindness and patience goes a long way. I and my family went through 9 moves in 13 years in my earlier married life and I can tell you I do not look forward to ever doing it again.

I longingly glance at my art table and the still life that I have waiting for me and can't wait to get back to it. And I promise that will be soon...in the next couple of days I will begin painting again and that bliss will arrive in my heart and mind as I pick up my brush!

The "Mystery Dog" report is coming soon, too! Stay tuned!!