Monday, October 8, 2018

Invitation to plunder Helene's Rydal Park Apartment - Poem: Davey Ire Pancakes



What a long day!

Lunch at Mom's would be around 1 pm, except I got there around 2, with the lunch, and two heavy boxes filled with items I chose from HAR's Rydal Park Apartment, Brookside 658.

Jerry Silburman told me to arrive around noon. When I did, Helene's apartment door was locked. "Ryesky" said the name on her door.

Click Helene on me blog and many photos will pop up.

Things I did not take were:  books, CDs, clothing, an alarm clock, beautiful vases - Persian looking - in a China cabinet - fantastic dishes, coffee or tea pitchers, a fairly new desk top computer, black (Mark Shapiro was her tutor) - her Scandanavian modern leather chair that swiveled and quacked like a duck.

Image result for scandinavian chair and ottoman

There is something ignominious (what does that mean?) about furniture and other belongings left in the hands of total strangers. Next blog entry has a poem about dis.

Everything not taken will be donated to Habitat for Humanity.

While waiting for Silburman and Naomi Mindlin to arrive and open the door I did one of my fave things. Talked myself into visiting a neighbor around the corner - John and Shirley Hilbert.

They did not know Helene!

How is that possible?

John attended Presby church services that morning, driven by someone at the First Presby Church. He showed me the Bible Study book - a discussion of C S Lewis's "Mere Christianity."

Oh, I read dat, I said, and added the Screwtape Letters were also great. Never did read his classic children's lit tho. My kids did.

TheLionWitchWardrobe(1stEd).jpg

Their apartment was gorgeous. We sat in the small living room, filled with a few paintings, a tall Greyhound sculpture on the carpet, like the real one who they once had but had to "put him down." Keys were draped over the dog.

Shirley showed me the washer/dryer in their 3 BR apartment. You opened the louver door, I think it was, and there were these bright white machines one atop thother.

John had shelves filled with books. Great books! Lock me in there and forbid me to leave, feed me salads and caviar, and I'll read as much as I can. Phone-calling is forbidden.

***
For about 7 years now, I'd guess, I can't remember the directions to various places I travel to. The Huntingdon Valley Library where I watch movies, Second Home for Elderly where I volunteer  and finally memorized (exit home past Bill Adams' house) how to get there.

I leafed thru my directions and found Quest Diagnostics. I was 80 percent sure that by turning left at the robber barons from Wells Fargo I'd find Rydal Park.

Did!

At Rydal Park there was no place to park. Drove past the front door and cruised slowly. Backed into the Residents' Parking Area.

Then, carrying my two boxes filled with washcloths for padding material, I headed toward the glass doors and went up to 658 B.

***

After visiting with my new friends The Hilberts, whom I'll never see again, walked into the open door of HAR's apartment. A good-looking older guy with beard and khaki shorts was sitting on the couch talking into his phone.

He jumped up when he saw me.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Oh, hi, I said. I'm Ruth Deming. We shook hands.

I was not wearing my brown n white night gown with the spaghetti straps as I am now, but my fave shorts pink with checkered stripes. My sister Lynn said about them, Oh, they're old fashioned.

Great balls of fire! That's my new expression for when I feel pissed off.

Then I wandered 40 days in the dessert to find my shtuf

You know about my terrible problem photographing anything... so I use Internet fotos.

Jerry encouraged me to take small things. Take everything, he said

Scotch Tape, long white pad, a huge journal with lines that are very small - I gladly gave it to Ellen.
White plastic drying rack which sits, with clothes folded onto it, in my laundry room. Bought at Target.

Spectacular necklaces. I simply threw all of em around my neck, as well as adorning my wrists with two lovely bracelets.

I think the bracelets are well- made and worth a fair amount of money.

Send me a check for $25 and they're yours! Beauty like this is a rarity at this price.



Can't stand taking it on and off.

Image result for cloisonne beads

Mom wanted to look at it, she thought she'd had something like it. I reminded her that she had given me a gorgeous Cloisonne necklace, which I never wore, but I slid it onto one of my lamps that Mom had bought me when I first moved in.

I was her baby little girl until I was about 60 and then felt it was time to spread my wings and pick out my own accessories.

Found a magnificent VASE which I brought home. All glass with some dark white carvings and round as a fish bowl. It's sitting on my window sill, round about midnight.

Warm winter boots.
Gorgeous clear glass coffee or tea mugs.
Set of silverware with wooden handles, very lightweight.

Hold on. I am thirsty!

Glug glug glug. Fresh orange juice.

Pocket books I will never use.

My morning poem:

SHOPPING AT GIANT

The asphalt in the parking lot
had dried smooth as tapioca pudding.

I marched in with my cart, everyone
in a rush, my shopping list
secure in the pocket of my
striped pink shorts.

We were having a party at Mom's
and me, the first-born, was chosen
to buy the food.

Chinese would be the centerpiece.
The food kiosks were just opening.
I filled up 8 plastic see-thru
cartons with food - salads with every
micronutrient you can think of, thanks
to the wrath of Dr Fuhrman.

Helen prepared fresh Chinese food for us
which smells up the back seat
of my car.

Dessert?
Fruit.

Later today it's off to Rydal Park
Helene's former home to glean like
Naomi forgotten items. That woman
loves scarves, as most artists - and
therapists - do.

Not me. It's her dishes I'd like and
her coffee mugs. Why? To remind
me of her home on Bauman Drive.

C'mon over, she'd say, and don't
be late. The Davey Ire Pancakes
are going in the oven right now.

Image result for davey ire pancakes

PS - Nearly forgot. Turning up my street with my car practically overturning with all the fucking junk inside I see a pile of board games someone out in the trash.

Monopoly, Sorry, Life, Battleship Challenges, plus jigsaw puzzles for kids.

Image result for game battleship


And how could I forget a SONY radio, maybe 20 yrs old, with a great sound and a DIAL to change the stations. It's currently living in the bottom level of the house. I turn it on to listen while I'm in the laundry room.

Sony Model ICF-9540W FM AM 2 Band 6 Transistors Radio Vintage




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