More Ramblings

The days are ticking by as we get closer to our halfway-point-trip-back-home-to-Denver. Since we decided to spend winters in AZ (as opposed to traveling back and forth between Denver and Phoenix as we did when we first purchased Club 9109), we have always returned for a few days in March to relieve my homesickness for my Denver family and make sure our house hasn’t burned to the ground. To be honest, it’s more of the former as I’m pretty sure our daughter-in-law would have mentioned it to us if she had arrived one day to water our plants and found a pile of smoldering rubble.

Stranger things have happened, however. It was during our Denver trip home in 2020 that I first realized the seriousness of the COVID-19 situation (which was then still called Coronavirus). I recall being at a restaurant with three of our granddaughters and saying, “Some people say they should close the schools. Have you ever heard of anything more ridiculous?” Addie replied, “Nana, I’m pretty sure when we go to school on Monday, they will announce they are closing schools. That’s what we were told by our teachers.”

Wait, what? I was living proof that denial is not just a river in Egypt.

We will fly home on March 30th and fly back on April 4th. Quick trip. In addition to checking for loose electrical wiring, we will also be watching a Middle School play in which our granddaughter Kaiya performs and our granddaughter Mylee participates on the tech team.

Speaking of Mylee, every once in a while I will send her a joke or riddle. I can never stump her, but I thought I’d give it another try.

Me: How many months have 28 days?

Mylee: 1, February

Me: Ha. I finally got you. The answer is ALL OF THEM.

Mylee: February has 28 days exactly, so technically both answers are correct.

Me: Let me win, just this once.

Mylee: Oh, okay.

If a text could sound grudging, her last one did.

In preparation for the trip, I got my first pedicure since my foot surgery. My doctor had told me I could get a pedicure right away after he saw me the last time, but I felt like my foot was too yucky-looking and swollen at that time. The incision is more healed, though my foot is still swollen. Still, my toenails were begging to be trimmed and my heels were begging to be softened. I warned the technician before she started that my foot was recovering from surgery. She was very nice, though heaven only knows what she was saying to her coworker in Vietnamese.

One last thing about going back to Denver: We both miss our Honda CRV. I’m pretty sure Bill misses it more than he would ever miss me.