Sound the Alarms

I woke up Saturday morning to what sounded like a feeble alarm.  Buff Honey scrambled to turn it off.

“What was that?”  I asked.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Yes, it was.  Sounded like an alarm.”

In most households in America, this would not be earth shattering news.  In our house, however, it had never happened in over two years.  We are retired people.  I know even retired people get up before dawn.  Not us.  And, especially, not BH.

For decades, he rose before 6 to get on that Harley and ride into the ridiculous Washington traffic in rain, sleet, snow, fog.  I swear that’s why he’s immune to cold weather.  Supporting five children on one income, he found a myriad of ways to save money.  And, thanks to his discipline, we’re enjoying a delightful life.

But, my heavens, it was 7 o’clock in the morning….light barely peeping through the blinds.  “Why are you getting up?”  He reminded me he was going to pick up trash in the community.  This activity was sponsored by the homeowners’ association and he was determined to do his part.  Definitely, admirable, I’d say.

“What time are you meeting them?”
“9 o’clock.”
“Really, it’s going to take you two hours to get ready to pick up trash?”

Ahhh….but there’s the Saturday morning workout routine….calisthenics, bench presses, 40 minute run.  Between bench press reps, he’s cooking bacon and scrambled eggs.  That’s the Saturday breakfast.  Sunday breakfast is waffles.

He is set in his ways.  When he does arise between 9 and 11, he is an exercise maniac!  He would not think of taking a day off.  He does it all before he eats.

Of course, I’m set in my ways, too.  I wake up around 8, almost always before he’s even stirring.  I make my coffee, pick up the paper from the driveway and sit.  I opt to slowly move into the day.  As long as I can remember, I read the paper and drank my coffee before uttering a word.  Oh, and I must do the Sudoku puzzle….in pen on Monday through Wednesday, pencil later in the week as they inevitably get harder.

And, then and only then, do I think about exercising.  I’m now up to four or five miles walking in the morning with scattered toning using bands and bar bells.  I used to be a true couch potato, exercising intermittently.  Stress from work just overwhelmed my desire to move.  I couldn’t wait to get home and be a vegetable.

When I retired five years ago, I vowed to exercise everyday.  And, I’ve been pretty good about it.  Not perfect…especially, when we’re traveling.  Actually, the truth is I hate exercising.  I hate going to a gym, surrounded by all the perfect bodies.  I prefer my in-home DVDs.  Usually, I exercise 45 minutes to an hour.  My favorite way to accomplish this feat is to put on the DVD without sound and turn on the Dr. Phil Show or The View or some sporting event I can get into.
Yep….crazy but it works for me.  Before I know it, my routine is over and I’m smugly satisfied that that marriage Dr. Phil claims he can fix is going to hell in a hand basket.

We live in a gated community.  Absurd, but true.  Way more trouble than it’s worth since the gate is slower than watching the little hand on a clock.  Or the fact that the process for admitting guests changes every two weeks.

You should read the emails that come from the president of the community.  You would think we were living in a hell hole.  OMG, the landscaping needs to be completely overhauled.  OMG, the renters are ruining the community.  OMG, we had to send out 400 letters to owners to fix up their lawns (that’s half the houses).

We love it here.  We think the landscaping is beautiful.  When you naively say something positive, you get an earful about how wonderful is was a couple of years ago but now it’s on a serious downhill slide.  Hmmmm….hard not to take that personally!

God bless the people who take on these roles.  Would you ever want to be president of a homeowners’ association?  The only reason I would be interested in it is to keep the fees low.  But, I don’t have enough patience in the world.

It’s like they take on this little power trip.  I think they’re retired police sergeants or military.  I think they’re just a little regimented.

I bet they started by going to the community trash day.  Uh oh…do you think BH has higher ambitions?  I absolutely do not want to be First Lady.