Donut? Don’t Mind If I Do!

Donna’s hosting a sewing party. One of the ladies said she’d bring donuts. I know I shouldn’t partake. I also know I will. That’ll be the limit of my interaction with her guests; otherwise I’ll be in the home office or the reading nook, staying out of the way.

Among the many many things we need to sell or otherwise dump are these cameras (not the watch … it’s a favorite). Scanning listings on eBay, I see what looks like a brisk market in old 35mm SLR cameras; hobbyists still use film and the Canon AE-1 at least appears to be a sought-after item.

But … Donna and I bought the Canon at our base exchange in the Netherlands before a winter ski trip to Austria, way back in 1980. It was our first serious (i.e., not a Brownie) camera. There are memories. And the Minolta? Our friend Mary Anne found it in a box of stuff that once belonged to her father. It contained half a roll of exposed film, the last photos he ever took with it. After having them developed, she gave the camera to us. How will it look to her if I cash out her gift? See? See how hard it is for old folks to get rid of stuff?

Speaking of stuff, the triple lead we got the dogs for Christmas is a bust. The way it works, three short leads clip onto a main leash. The problem? As the dogs weave around their leads twist, causing the clips to rub together on the D-ring. The rubbing sometimes moves one of the thumb releases, and off pops a dog. It’s happened twice now, once with Fritzi and once with Lulu. Being good girls, they sat still when I told them to stop, then waited patiently while I clipped them back on. If Mr. B ever got loose, he’d bolt for home or god forbid into the shiggy where the coyotes’ll get him, and we can’t have that.

I’m back to walking Fritzi and Lulu on their old double lead, where the short leads are sewn together and won’t come loose, with Mr. B on his own separate leash. We’ve heard coyotes yipping at kills nearby during our last three walks, and I’m constantly on the alert.

Our friends Bill and Terri are back in Tucson after a two-week sojourn in Quartzite, the winter RV Mecca made famous in the movie Nomadland, where, arriving after dark, they innocently set up their 5th wheel trailer home in an area known as the Magic Circle, a section of desert reserved for nudist campers.

The reason they swung by Tucson again was to have the slide-out sections of their RV beefed up with heavy-duty components. The company that makes and installs those components is here. Bill and Terri are staying in an Air B&B while the work is done. We met at one of our favorite Mexican seafood restaurants last night, a local chain called Mariscos Chihuahua, and had a nice visit. Work on their rig should be done today and they’ll head back east tomorrow. We’ll see them again in the fall when they start a long trip to Alaska, an adventure they’ve been planning for years. Okay, I’ll confess … we’re a little jealous.

So jealous, in fact, we’re talking about a road trip of our own. Most likely to California, with a visit to our kids in Las Vegas along the way, but maybe a real cross-country back East as well. More on that later.

Daughter Polly is employed again, this time as an auto service writer at a nearby Walmart. So far she seems to like it, and has already installed more batteries than I have in a lifetime. Perhaps this gig’ll last a while, but we’ve learned not to jinx things by getting our hopes too high. Fingers crossed.

The sewing ladies are here. Donna just brought me a small plate with two half-donuts and some orange wedges. Oh, and three deviled eggs. My day’s off to a good start!