I DREAMED OF THAT

I went to a BBQ at my daughters Saturday afternoon. Hubby and the two girls were out of town for a soccer tournament. It was just her, my grandson, two neighbor kids and the boys she was sitting. What a perfect piece of property. Five acres of mostly forest. I was taken on a tour of forts. I envied my grandson. I would have loved to have a place like this at his age. Instead, I had a couple of city blocks with tolerant neighbors who never yelled at us for running through their yard. Except for Mrs. Withrow. She didn’t want anyone touching her cherry tree. That was sad, because her cherry’s tasted great.

He had one fort that was so well constructed with branches and moss that it is doubtful if it would get wet inside. It appeared more like a cave. Open face. It looked much like the cave that often appears on Hallmark cards at Christmas with a mother, father and child inside. There were a total of six forts. I would have been happy for one. Instead I had cardboard stapled to a 1x2 frame leaning against the back of the house. I was thankful. I was the only one who had a fort. It was very important then as we usually played cowboys and bad guys. My fort was frequently the jail. Thankfully not one ever tore the cardboard off to escape. Dad did put up a somewhat descent roof covered with tarpaper. It had quit an overhang and kept the rain off the fort most of the time. Come to think of it, I miss those days. I actually preferred to be a bad guy as you got to be shot and roll down hills, fall off walls or even low roofs. I loved that, but then my goal in life was to be a stunt man. Yea, I know. I can’t believe it either. Now I can hardly get up on a small wall outside the building door by my apartment without feeling like I will lose my balance, fall and break something. The wall is 14” high. What a wimp.

Conversation around coffee this morning was an attack on the architect who designed this place. The two building are quite different. Apartments are all the same in my building. There are several different floor plans in the other building. Don’t get us wrong. We all love this place. But like any home you have, there is always something you would like to change or wish you had. We want storage. The other building has almost done. Out building has more and could have even more if the door to the closet went to the ceiling. Then shelves could be all the way to the ceiling. As it is, we have the air, but very limited access. I’d like to cut a hold about the closet doors and put storage in.

The kitchens are poorly laid out. That really bothers the cooks around here. Me too. There is practically no counter top. Above counter cupboards are too high and not enough. There is 8’ linear about the counter with another six feet about the stove and fridge. You can’t make it without a step stool. The under counter space is 4 ½ feet. Only a bachelor who eats out could make it, that’s what I’m told. Enough. I’m happy. Everyone who ever moved into a retirement center has downsized and is basically happy for it. I did it before I got here. Have done it twice since being here and need to do it again. Emotional sentimental things! Never look at them but they mean something – to me. My daughter will burn them when I am gone. So why can’t I do that now. I don’t know. I might want to look at them sometime. I just won’t do it.