Greetings from the Cole Retirement Community

Day one at the Cole Retirement Community (our motto: “The food is great, the pets are awesome, the hearing is suspect, and the conversation is sketchy at best”) has begun with a fresh round of cleaning, with my father surgically cleaning every square inch of the house, muttering “there’s hair everywhere” the entire time. No one is safe, and the morning ritual for the Cole pets includes a vigorous brushing:

The conversation is, as always, a delight:

And look, I am NOT pinning this on my parents, because I am every bit as bad. I was sitting in the living room and the tv was tuned to the Today Show, and they had a long segment on their fitness goals and kept mentioning planking and I blurted out “what the hell is planking?” A minute or so later, my dad walked through the room dusting and they mentioned planking again, and my dad said to no one in particular “what the hell is planking?” A few minutes later, mom, who had been in the room the entire time but was reading, looked up, looked at me, and asked “Do you know what planking is?”

Lily, of course, is nonplussed:

Dad’s lift chair rental arrived this morning (he’s having another knee surgery), and then I suppose we will go to the beach and the dog park.



Greetings From Paradise (On my next to last night)

As you all know, my sister came down for a few days and we had a good time, and this was apparently a surprise to my mother:

At any rate, I spent the next to last day here doing what I have done every day- get up, take the dogs for a drag, do some work, soak in the pool, take the dogs for a drag, soak in the pool some more, go to the grocery and pick up something for dinner, come home, cook, take the dogs for a drag, and then work and watch Hulu. I have watched no live tv, and I have to say it is super pleasant.

I had to say goodbye to Ruth, the doorlady who I have been bringing sweets every night, and she gave me her phone number and told me to call if I ever come back. I might just call her to chat even if I am not coming back, because she was so nice.

Last day tomorrow. BOOOO!



The Two Laziest Dogs on the Planet

I’ve always believed that the laziest dogs on the planet were greyhounds- there is a reason they call them 50 mph couch potatoes. That is, of course, until I met Riley and Prescott. These dachshunds are, without a doubt, the two LAZIEST dogs I have ever met. EVER.

Every time I try to take them for a walk, I have to wrangle them off the couch, and they look at me with these sad eyes like I am taking them for a beating. Once I finally get the harnesses around their little stubby legs, I have to basically pull them out the door while pleading with them to walk.

They lie down on the elevator on the way down. Then they make me pull them off. And then we go for our drag around the block. Half the time I end up carrying Prescott.

And it is not just me. I have met a couple people who walk the dogs every now and then for my friend on the elevator, and they all say something to the effect of “Hi Riley, hi Prescott,” and then turn to me and tell me “those dogs hate going for walks.” Claudia, who is from Brazil and has raven black hair and blue eyes and were I a resident of Florida I think I would have proposed says that some days she can’t even get them out of the condo parking lot.

My favorite example of this is the other night at around 9:30 to 10, Lily was doing her potty dance- she’s used to a doggy door that she can use whenever she wants, so she was walking from room to room and I realized she had to go, so I grabbed her leash to put it on her. Riley saw me grab her leash, got a look of complete terror on his face, and jumped off the couch and raced into the bedroom to hide behind he bed. There was no way I was forcing him to go for another dreaded walk. When I got back from walking Lily, sure enough, Riley was back on the couch, happy as can be that the “walk” threat had passed.

LAZY.



City Life is Exhausting

It’s been a full week of city living for me, and while I am very much enjoying myself, I find myself increasingly weary. This is the closest I have ever come to living in a major city- every other time I have been in a big place like this it has been hotel living, where you eat out every meal and they clean up after you. I haven’t had to grocery shop or do the day to day things. It’s a real change in lifestyle- just schlepping groceries back to the place is a different experience- you don’t load up the family truckster and just come home- you have to pick what you need more carefully because you have to haul it back by foot or pay for a cab, and that doesn’t even go into the storage issues of a small condo.
This place is super expensive, so I have only been eating out once a day, and some nights not even that. Devon and I went out all three nights.

I do enjoy all the sun, though. It’s been just what I needed, although I have found my hours have changed dramatically. I get up at 4:30 and work until the dogs get up, then feed and walk them and work some more. Spend a couple hours in the pool, get some more stuff done, and then next thing you know it’s dinner time, and by nine or ten I am falling asleep in the chair.

This condo complex has a doorman, in this case a doorlady, and she is a pleasant young lady from somewhere in Africa who sounds exactly like one of the characters in No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. She really has the most amazing smile, and every time I go somewhere when she is working, I come back with a chocolate for her.

I was talking on twitter how I don’t understand why people in real America hate it when people don’t speak English. I love it. I know no one is talking to me. Also, the other upside is that since I have no internal monologue and often say inappropriate things, when I don’t speak the same language as people, there are fewer awkward moments.

I’m rambling.



Another Open Thread

It doesn’t matter how big or how small the ottoman or foot stool is, I still only get a couple inches. Ridiculous.

Devon left today, so I am at the mercy of the dogs. Speaking of, these are the laziest dogs ever- I have never met two dogs less motivated or interested in walks than these dachshunds. They lie down on the elevator ride downstairs. On the other hand, if I even walk in the direction kitchen they race in there hoping for food.

I really need a pool in my life. I need to hit the powerball. Or maybe join a gym.