Here's What I Have To Say

JP and I spent the past two days at our Delaware house, completing the last of the packing and moving stuff to storage. It was a little bit bittersweet as there are things about that house that we'll miss. For me, it's all the birds that visit each day because they know I'm a sucker for feeding them. It was a nice house for us but it was never my end-all dream house so leaving it isn't as bad as I thought it might be. Thankfully we weren't there long enough to make many memories which makes selling it even easier. Also, everybody who knows me knows that the truth is I never loved Delaware but it was where JP worked so you do what you have to do and make the best of it. Bloom where you're planted blah blah blah.

JP stayed behind a little longer to finish things up yesterday afternoon while I headed out to go back to our Pennsylvania interim apartment. As I was driving I happened to pass a gun shop and was stunned to see that there was a line of maybe 15+ people waiting to get inside.

Not gonna lie: it unnerved me and sent a bit of a chill down my spine. I understand lines if donuts or cake or puppies are involved. But guns? Yeah, no.

I don't really want to be in a place where people are lined up to buy firearms, you know?*

I've been in deep contemplation for the past few weeks about social media and its effects on me.
For various reasons, a lot of my time is spent in front of a computer and when I step back and actually pay attention and be truthful - it's a lot more than "a lot of my time".  It's more like most of my time. Part of that is that my personal livelihood comes from artwork that I create on a computer or the fact that I sell things via computer. So with that comes all kinds of connections that have to be updated and monitored. Then of course I stray off course and wander down the rabbit hole of reading about things that in truth don't matter.
And it has taken a toll. A big one.

I used to not be jaded and now I kinda am. I used to have an attention span and now I don't have much of one. I used to have good eyesight and now I don't.
But those things are just the tip of the iceberg.
When you spend too much time enmeshed in the world of social media you can't really tell what's real and what isn't anymore.
This came to light for me just the other day. They were protesting in Delaware and things got ugly so I wanted to call my 80 year old mother to let her know that JP was fine (he was in Delaware and she knew that). But she had no idea what I was talking about when I told her about the protests. I had to bring her up to speed. This is not because she is in any kind of mental decline; it's simply because she just does not pay much attention to the news. She almost never knows anything about current events. She just doesn't see the point.

It's hard to imagine, isn't it, that someone could know not a whole lot about what's happening in the world they live in?

Yet I think she's better off. Way better off. She makes a great point about not seeing the point.

And I've decided to take her lead and edit what I let in.
There are so many better things to do with my time and fill my mind with.



*Nothing at all to due with a 2A issue

Current Life In Easton

The city in which we are currently residing has blocked off the major thoroughfare through the town center with large concrete barriers. They did this so people can dine outside while at the local restaurants.

The ambiance is..."spectacular" (quotes added intentionally to denote a teensy bit of sarcasm). Nothing says appetizing like dining on hot dirty blacktop in what resembles a construction zone while inhaling the emissions of the vehicles passing very closely by. Yummy.

The restaurants are understandably gleeful and their voluminous patrons are seemingly so glad to have restrictions lifted that asphalt dining works very well for them.  That's terrific for them.  I, however, have been steering very clear of all of this because I've seen lots of photos and videos that clearly show a severe lack of social distancing despite the governmental mandates and I'm not comfortable getting up close and personal with strangers at this time. We refer to the downtown dining area as Coronaville 😄and that is no place I want to be.  It's okay if you scorn me because of that and tell me to "just stay home then!".  We prefer to err on the side of caution and are happily staying home, thanks. There are less germs and car emissions here.

The kicker is that because the city blocked off the major crosstown thoroughfare, the traffic is being directed onto our street, which is very very unfortunate. When we rented this place as our interim home between selling and buying homes, we did so because it was a quiet street in an historic neighborhood.

Now it very closely resembles the Jersey Shore on any night between Memorial and Labor Days.

I can use that comparison because I lived at the Jersey Shore for 30+ years and I know all about the shenanigans that comes with living in a tourist hot spot. For part of that time I was actually an avid participant in the shenanigans so I'm kind of an expert.

The shenanigans to which I refer includes traffic backups, horns honking, people shouting at each other, drunken debauchery, etc. All of this is now happening right outside my windows. I can no longer take naps or open those windows for fresh air.

The worst offenders of the noise pollution I am paying big monthly rent to be subjected to are the vehicles who badly need new mufflers and/or those whiney little cars that the owners think are so cool but are anything but (I'm of the age to know what real cool is/was);

motorcycle riders who rev their engines for absolutely no apparent reason (I ride my own so don't even go there - I know of what I speak).

But the absolute worst offenders are the loud music players.
Don't get me wrong, I still crank it up in the car - an old fuddy duddy I am not! - but what I am witnessing just outside my windows are decibel levels that are making those windows rattle and the floor under my feet shake. I kid you not. This is especially "fun" just as you're dozing off.
And if that isn't bad in and of itself, I have to tell you something else...

people are listening to some realllly bad music.

I mean, I might not mind so much if every few minutes someone pulled up outside and played something good that only mildly made my ears bleed, but alas that is not the case. Many of the cars are blasting rap/hip hop music.  Enough said there because even though I am actually fond of some rap/hip hop, having it reverberate your brain is not ever good. But they are not the only offenders.  In fact I've been quite surprised by some of the stuff people are driving around listening to.  Yesterday, for example, someone was blasting Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog. And just a few minutes ago I heard I Am Woman by Helen Reddy loud and clear as if it were 1972 and I was at her concert. I promise I am not making that up.

Easton*. The gift that keeps on giving.

 

*It's okay if I don't care for Easton just like it's okay if you do care for Easton. Some people like spinach and others abhor it. You can't chastise someone for their opinion or taste(s) just because it differs from your own.

City Life About Face

I do not care for city living. Particularly the current city in which we are residing.

I wouldn't have written that 20+ years ago to be sure when I dreamed about living in NYC but like almost everything else I used to be about, my truths have changed. In fact, if you have a young person/people around you to advise, you should tell them that part about growing older: who you are and what you do at a certain age might not resemble at all who you'll be a decade or two or three later. You will have many personas throughout your life, grasshopper.

The city where our interim apartment is located is more like a big town but it's called a city so I'll stick with that. When we first came up here last winter during the time when our circumstances were changing and we were starting to plan for our upheaval, we were charmed. We thought oh good, a place with history and beautiful architecture and restaurants and shops that we can walk to. 

So we moved here, into an apartment that makes you think of a Parisian  apartment, a pied-à-terre;
a small apartment that isn't meant to be your permanent home. We have wide plank wood floors and very large windows that overlook the street, a bedroom that you have to walk up two steps to enter, a gleaming remodeled kitchen that no one ever used before us. It's cozy and cool - like what we thought the big town/small city was when we made the decision to move here.

But there are downsides.