An Uncle Wiggly adventure

When I find myself with some time on my hands, which is often these days, I scroll. It’s awful. I have a bit of a morning routine which lasts maybe an hour and then I think “let’s just see if I have any messages on social media” which I never do, especially first thing in the morning.  But it doesn’t matter.  I look anyway, and then it’s 3 p.m. and my brain is like mush.  And the one thing I haven’t done is write, anything. Not in a journal, not in a blog, not a book.  So before I turn to mush one more day I thought I’d try and write. I do have an adventure to share.

I sold my car.  Some of my peeps think it’s a sad/desperate thing but it is not.  Although there is certainly a financial consideration at play I am having a most fun adventure.  I mean I live in the city.  Many of us city folks do not have cars.  And what some of us senior citizens have is a FREE bus pass.  My first day without a car I was staying at Zach’s new house dog sitting.  His new house happens to be one block from the “T” – You may be wondering what the “T” stands for.  I had to Google it.  This is what it says:

The “T” stands for … well, nothing. Back in 1985 when the system debuted, Port Authority ran a public naming contest because “trolley” and “streetcar” were deemed too old-fashioned. A number of suggestions came in, including PASS (Pittsburgh Area Subway System), but “T” was chosen.

Pretty funny. Leave it to Pittsburghers. Anyway, the “T” runs on train tracks that I am assuming were old streetcar tracks that serve the South Hills of Pittsburgh.  Having grown up in the northern area of Pittsburgh the “T” is very foreign to me and it’s a GREAT adventure.  So anyway, the first carless day after staying at Zach’s (he picked me up at Carvana after the sale) Zachary walked me to the “T” stop.  I said I felt like I was at one of those stagecoach stops in the middle of nowhere that you see in old movies. Not quite as bad as this photo but still a tiny stop. The train came and as fate would have it once aboard my bus pass didn’t work.  BUT those drivers know there are glitches and I was able to get home anyway. (I got it fixed the next day) – Anyhow I was like a little kid on that T.  Seeing all these back areas of the South Hills, you know those trains don’t go on the roads like busses.  I mean what a new adventure for me! Since then I have the PRT (Pittsburgh Regional Transit) Schedules everywhere.  On my phone, in paper, in texts.  I take the bus to Sewickley (mom) on Tuesday.  I catch it right across the street from my apartment building.   Getting home (back to the city) is tricky so I’ve been staying overnight at Diane’s and taking a morning bus back in. Mom loves to keep me there when I say it’s time to go.  They say your parents become like kids and what a pain-in-the-ass kid she can be. Some things just come into focus with your parents at this stage of life. And it’s only one day (and night) of my week. And Diane doesn’t seem to mind.  We go way back as roommates.  Right Di? Anyway, a whole new and fun adventure. I had groceries delivered one day this week and that worked out great – it’s a little pricier than going yourself – but hey I was in my pajamas when they were delivered.  My shopper was an early riser! Last weekend I bussed to a friend’s house and we went shopping together.  She offered to drive me home so I loaded up her car. I took advantage of the ride!  I go to a Spa across the street from my apartment, not often but anyway, the owner of the Spa who also lives in the city, doesn’t have a car either – for 15 years – she was telling me all about how to use a Zip car.  I mean how cool am I? At least I feel pretty cool. I have embraced city living even more.  Now when this apartment lease runs out next summer we’ll see what we see, but for now it was probably the step I needed to bring a little spark back into my life.  Would a new Mercedes GLC 300 have that same spark?  I’d say so, but maybe wait a month or so until this carless adventure has run its course.

You know how older people say, I still feel like an 18-year-old inside?  They are full of shit.  As I make these decisions – like selling my car, for now – my biggest concern is being afraid to drive again.  I have been proud of myself for zipping in and out of these city roads, merging and the like, I mean Pittsburgh driving is the WORST, and I’ve been doing it like a pro while other friends are slowly backing away from driving in various forms.  But I am always worried when I’m driving. Part of it has to do with the car – that it didn’t have the “go” like other cars and pulling into traffic you need that – but the other part is I’m tired of driving. I’m tired of the stress and I’m slightly afraid of not getting that confidence back if I get too far away from it.  And that’s because I’m NOT an 18-year-old.  I’m 65, and I feel every bit of my age. I can tell certain things make me nervous that I never even considered before, mainly driving, or getting lost. Honestly I don’t remember how I felt when I was 18 so it’s really hard to say what age I feel like but I just know I don’t feel young.  And I certainly don’t LOOK young but that’s in the category now of “whatever” – I was a young and pretty thing once.  We all were.  But time marches on and some of us look different and don’t drive and are very happy to sit in a chair and scroll through social media and read stupid sayings or look at dog or cat videos that make us laugh.  How pathetic is that. Just a couple weeks ago I was thinking I need a robust life. You know, like on the show Yellowstone. I need to wrangle some horses, muck some stalls, round up some cattle.  Go for horse rides.  Maybe work in the garden all day.  I need RIP (a Yellowstone (the show) reference) – I mean I really need a RIP. 

I need him to saddle the horse before I get on it.  I guess I need a modified robust life.  Someone to do all the hard work but I still get to ride a horse.  Anyway, I go between feeling old and feeling like I need to get out of this city and live a vigorous life. I could drive a truck through the prairie lands – as long as there’s no merging involved.

Perhaps this is a blog about “what would you do with your lottery winnings?”  It could happen.  I am learning to manifest. Why just the other day I needed a nail file/emory board when I ripped a nail at work and sure enough didn’t have one in my purse.  And then, I was cleaning out some files and pulled an empty box off a shelf and what was in it?  A pen AND a nail file.  Just like that, a manifesting master I became.  So perhaps I can manifest a ranch life with RIP, horses, cattle, mountains and fresh air all day long. Is that what I want? Hard to say.

Today, I’ll paint a couple jars.  Tomorrow I’ll take the bus to Janice and we’ll go to lunch.  I mean that’s as robust as I’m going to get this weekend.  But can that ranch life be far behind?

xoxoxo