La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.
“I got scores for you!” announced The Kid Brother during our chat last night. It was the second week of bowling season. “First game, one-sixteen,” he said. I repeated it as I entered it on the spreadsheet, “One-one-six.” “Second game, two-forty-two… One-forty-two.” He has bowled as high as 242, so it was possible. But 142 was more realistic. I repeated, “One-four-two. That’s amazing, Chuck. One-forty-two! Two great games. What did you get for your total?” “Two-forty,” he said. Uh oh.
I asked, “One-sixteen and one-forty-two?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Well, when I add them together I get two-fifty-eight.”
“What?!? It’s 240!!!”
I went through it again. “First game, one-sixteen.”
“That’s right.”
“Second game, one-forty-two.”
“What?!? TWO-forty-two… One-twenty-four!”
“Oh, one-twenty-four?”
“That’s what I said.”
“OK, I’ve got it now. I thought you said, one-forty-two.”
“You need to get your ears checked!”
I then told him the good news that San Geraldo had arranged to have money transferred from our account to his every other month. More then he gets for spending money from Social Security. “It’s about time!” he snapped.
I replied pointedly, “You’re welcome.” He said, “Oh, yeah.”
Merchi was here this morning. We had a nice second breakfast across the street while we relaxed, read, and talked. My digestion had been threatening before we went out and I finally had to hustle home after a couple of hours. Pills have been taken, so I should be OK for wandering this afternoon. These cramps are really cramping my style. I’m working with a gastroenterologist and hope he finds a solution. Until now, all I’ve been told is it’s “probably” a reaction to one or more medications. The over-the-counter pills work (although sometimes I require three doses over a few hours). But I can’t take those until I’m actually ill and I want to stop being actually ill!
It’s been two-and-a-half years since I was in the hospital thinking I was dying. Life has changed an awful lot since then. When my mother was in her 80s, after being hit by a car and nearly dying, having a mild stroke and nearly dying, having heart problems and nearly dying, and having surgery for a fractured spine, and nearly dying, she was 88 and told me she just wasn’t herself. I said, “It sucks, but maybe this is just your 88-year-old self.” She said, “Well, I don’t like her.”
Well, I’m already sick of my much younger than 88-year-old self. Then again, these are still supposedly temporary annoyances. And, I’m still enjoying exploring, learning, growing, and being creative. I’m working on the attitude today.
The photos are from the Church of Santa Marina. You’ve seen it before (click here). I returned the other day before being caught in the thunderstorm just to check out the cherubs and the confessionals (both still to come). While there, I caught these intriguing shadows.
I’ve finished with sunset photos from our rooftop where I ran to get the laundry the night before, before it was too dark to see.
«¡Tengo mis resultados para ti!», anunció El Hermanito durante nuestra charla de anoche. Era la segunda semana de la temporada de bolos. «Primera partida, uno-dieciséis», dijo. Repetí la cifra mientras la anotaba en la hoja de cálculo: «uno-uno-seis». «Segunda partida, dos-cuatro-dos… uno-quatro-dos». Él ha llegado a hacer 242 puntos en alguna ocasión, así que era posible; pero 142 resultaba más realista. Repetí: «uno-cuarenta y dos. ¡Eso es increíble, Chuck! ¡uno-cuarenta y dos! Dos partidas estupendas. ¿Cuál fue tu total?». «Dos-cuarenta», respondió.» Vaya, vaya.
Pregunté: «¿116 y 142?»
«Eso es lo que he dicho».
«Bueno, al sumarlas me salen 258».
«¡¿Qué?! ¡Son 240!»
Volví a repasar los números: «Primera partida, uno-dieciséis».
«Exacto».
«Segunda partida, uno-cuarenta y dos».
«¡¿Qué?! ¡dos-cuarenta y dos… uno-veintidós!»
«Ah, ¿124?»
«Eso es lo que he dicho».
«Vale, ya lo tengo. Había entendido 142».
«¡Necesitas hacerte revisar los oídos!»
Después le di la buena noticia: San Geraldo ha organizado una transferencia periódica desde nuestra cuenta a la suya, cada dos meses. Es más de lo que recibe como dinero para gastos de la Seguridad Social.
«¡Ya era hora!», soltó de forma cortante. Le respondí con intención: «De nada». Él contestó: «Ah, sí».
Merchi estuvo aquí esta mañana. Disfrutamos de un agradable segundo desayuno al otro lado de la calle, mientras nos relajábamos, leíamos y charlábamos. Antes de salir, ya notaba molestias digestivas, así que, al cabo de un par de horas, tuve que volver a casa a toda prisa. Ya me he tomado las pastillas, así que espero estar bien para dar una vuelta esta tarde. Estos calambres realmente me están fastidiando los planes. Estoy en manos de un gastroenterólogo y espero que encuentre una solución. Hasta ahora, lo único que me han dicho es que «probablemente» se trate de una reacción a uno o varios medicamentos. Los fármacos de venta libre funcionan (aunque a veces necesito tomar tres dosis en el transcurso de unas horas), pero solo puedo recurrir a ellos cuando ya me siento mal, ¡y yo lo que quiero es dejar de sentirme mal!
Han pasado dos años y medio desde que estuve en el hospital pensando que me estaba muriendo. La vida ha cambiado muchísimo desde entonces. Cuando mi madre tenía ochenta y tantos años, tras ser atropellada por un coche y estar a punto de morir, sufrir un derrame cerebral leve y estar a punto de morir, padecer problemas cardíacos y estar a punto de morir, y someterse a una operación de columna por una fractura, también estando a punto de morir, a sus 88 años me dijo que simplemente no se sentía ella misma. Le respondí: «Es una faena, pero quizá esta sea, sencillamente, tu versión de 88 años». Ella contestó: «Pues esa versión no me gusta».
Bueno, ya me tienen harta mis propias molestias —que, por cierto, no tienen nada que ver con tener 88 años—. Por otra parte, se supone que son contratiempos temporales. Y, a pesar de todo, sigo disfrutando de explorar, aprender, crecer y ser creativa. Hoy me estoy centrando en trabajar mi actitud.
Las fotos son de la iglesia de Santa Marina; ya la conocéis (haz clic aquí). El otro día, antes de que me sorprendiera la tormenta, volví para echar un vistazo a los querubines y a los confesionarios (ambos, temas que trataré más adelante). Allí, capté estas sombras tan intrigantes.
Por último, incluyo unas fotos del atardecer tomadas desde nuestra azotea; subí corriendo la noche anterior para recoger la ropa tendida, justo antes de que oscureciera por completo.
Click the thumbnails to enlarge.
Haz clic en las miniaturas para ampliar.
WOW! These photos are so well done/composition/lighting/framing!
Your health issues are certainly not interfering with your artistic abilities…….probably the best ‘medicine’ out there…….focusing on things ‘outside’ ourselves.
Always LOVE your conversations with KB……….. a future book?
Jim:
Thanks so much. That means a lot coming from you. My conversations with Chuck DO make me laugh.
So who plays Abot and who plays Costello? A 242 is amazing. Stay sweet.
David:
I’m usually Abbott.
The Chuck dialogs are the best! I too wish your gut would just calm down. It’s no fun having to organize your life around it. You still get a lot done though, and some great photos. Such an eye! Boud
Boud:
I sometimes take notes when we talk, which he notices and comments on. “What da heck are ya doin now?”
You’d think a gastroenterologist could figure it out.
You are so patient with your brother.
ellen abbott:
Just starting with the gastro. Here’s hoping.
I love the “shadow shots” of the saints!
Debra:
The shadows fascinated me. I wanted more and now I’ll be looking for them in every church.
Fabulous shadow photos! Wish your digestion was better. I mean, it’s weird; it’s not like we’re getting old or anything…
wickedhamster:
And this supposedly has nothing to do with my age, although the longer you live, the more problems you’ll have. REALLY annoying.
Let’s face it- churches can be creepy. That first shadow picture of Mary and her baby is almost ghostly. Did you hear about the priest who was killed when the crucifix attached to the wall behind him fell off and landed on him? It was at a mass being live streamed in Ecuador.
And if I read that here, please forgive me.
You are indeed incredibly patient with your brother. And your gut, to be honest. May there be better answers soon.
Mary Moon:
Yes, I found the shadows almost mystical. And yes I keep seeing articles about the priest. There’ll be a movie. Regarding the gut, thanks. Here’s hoping. It’s make traveling anywhere difficult to plan.
Mitchell, be sure to remind yourself (please) how impressive it is that you can (and do) walk so much! Many of us are excited to comfortably get in a mile or so 🙂 How annoying it is, though, to have the constant gastro issue… anything constant like that, is so intrusive, right? Grrr.
Judy C:
Haven’t walked much at all lately and that’s making me crazier. But I do know I still get in some great walks.
I LOVE the shadow pictures the best! Very timely for this time of year with the Hallows season impending……
Mistress Maddie:
I now want to hit all the churches and look for shadows.
“Old age is like a plane flying through a storm. Once you’re aboard, there’s nothing you can do.” – Golda Meir
Jx
PS KB is exasperating!
Jon:
KB IS exasperating, and entertaining.
I love the KB chats … “That’s what I said!”
And glad you got the banking stuff figured out.
And I love that first photo inside the church.
Bob:
Ah, Chuck. Without him, what would I do for entertainment (and insults)? I’m now hooked on the church shadows and want to look for them everywhere.
It’s been so long since I bowled, I can’t remember how it’s scored. I would have just accepted whatever the Kid Brother had to say.
Kirk:
Bowling is now automatically scored. You don’t even have to do anything. Where’s the fun in that? The problem, however, with accepting what Chuck has to say is that he often gives me two scores before he zones in on the final one (which may not be correct).
Well funny thing about life, you may live a lot older than you think. You may have another 30 years to go. Lots of more walks around town.
larrymuffin:
I honestly hope it’s not 30!