Bunkie Pays it Backwards

This blog was started in 2010 as a way to let family and friends know about the trails and tribulations of taking care of my oldest brother in Michigan. It had suspense, anxiety and tension, he was very ill and I was a retired R.N. trying my best while two thousand miles from home. 

He recovered, I came home, the blog continued and I had to write about something different. 

Early on I discovered the best and most successful blogs, in addition to having talented people writing them, had a consistent theme. 

One was made into a movie about a woman who cooked a meal a day from a Julia Child cookbook. Blogs about cats, raising children, coupon savings and crafts are very popular. I spent hours thinking about something I do on a regular basis, one activity I could write about daily and I came up with nothing. I do more nothing than anything else. But if I wrote about nothing the blog entry would be pretty short. 

I decided to explore a different topic everyday. 

My inconsistency makes me consistent.

Yesterday the blog was about food and shopping and Fitbits.

Last night I took a picture of my dinner plate and Wanda asked me if I was going to post it on the blog. I told her I took it so I could remember what I ate if I logged it on line. How freaking sad is that? I'm taking a picture of my food in case two hours later I forget what I ate.

But I won't lie to you, I thought about a Fitbit blog so I checked.

There are forums, Twitter feeds, Facebook pages and more personnel blogs that I can count. One person posts graphics of her dashboard and scale so we can see her daily food consumption and caloric burn. Personally, I could live without water intake and urine output and her decreasing adipose and increasing cellulite pictures.

So I've decided I will not bore you with pictures of my daily meals.

Today is National Chocolate Day.

National Chocolate Day is celebrated annually on October 28. While there are many chocolate related holidays every year, National Chocolate Day is a day to celebrate all things chocolate. As America’s favorite flavor, chocolate is well deserving of its own day of honor and celebration.

Chocolate comes from the seed of the tropical Theobroma cacao tree. Cacao, which has been cultivated for at least three thousand years, is grown in Mexico, Central America and Northern South America. The earliest known documentation of use, of cacao seeds, is around 1100 BC. The cacao tree seed have a very intense bitter taste that must be fermented to develop the flavor.

Once the seeds have been fermented, the beans are then dried, cleaned and roasted. After roasting, the shell is removed to produce cacao nibs. The cacao nibs are then ground into cocoa mass which is pure chocolate in rough form. The cocoa mass is usually liquefied then molded with or without other ingredients, it is called chocolate liquor. The chocolate liquor may then be processed into two components: cocoa solids and cocoa butter.

Many people use cocoa butter for cosmetic reasons. The moisturizing abilities of cocoa butter are frequently recommended for prevention of stretch marks in pregnant woman, treatment of chapped or burned skin and lips, and as a daily moisturizer to prevent dry itchy skin.

Pharmaceutical companies heavily use cocoa butter's physical properties. As a nontoxic solid at room temperature that melts at body temperature, it is considered an ideal base for medicinal suppositories.

Fitbits and chocolate don't go together but the suppositories are another story.

I could write about daily adventures if I got out more but I have a major problem, I hate driving my car. OK, hate is a little strong. I'm thankful I have a car and the price was right. The vehicle gets decent mileage and the cost of insurance is low. I can count on it to get me where I need to go, it's reliable. The radio and air conditioning work.

But, the car has been outside for twenty three years. The paint looks like a person with a bad sunburn. The driver's window falls into the door frame if it's rolled down. The headliner is held up with duct tape. The emergency brake release is broken so I lift it up with my foot in order to grasp it. And it doesn't lock which isn't really a problem because no one in their right mind would steal it.

Although it's parked in our driveway I like to scatter remnants of possible human occupation in the back seat; it keeps the mice away.

In December 2003 my father-in-law Curt took his 1991 Plymouth Acclaim in for service. At the time the odometer read 97,135. Sometime between then and October of the following year Curt had a small mishap. He drove into another vehicle doing little more than breaking a taillight but he was unaware of the incident. 

Ukiah (Curt's home) is a very small town and one of the local police officers who knew Curt and where he lived witnessed the accident. He was kind enough to return Curt's front turn signal lens and suggest he consider the bus for future transportation needs.

Wanda and I took possession of the Plymouth October 2004. The mileage was 99,415.

This morning (it should have a name but all I can come up with is carbuncle) the accumulated mileage is 114,593. Wanda drove Bunkie to work for awhile and we did take it to LA once but with an average of 1,500 miles a year you know I'm not driving much.

I cross a $5 toll bridge when I go to the dentist. Wanda has an electronic gadget on RAVA2E so she zips through the sensors, Bunkie isn't registered. When I get to the toll booth I open my door to hand over my loot since I can't roll down the window. It's embarrassing so I always have money in hand ready to make a quick escape.

Last week while the wired in people sailed right by, the pay lines got stacked up. There was a lane closure and some merging was necessary. The driver on my left did a can I get in front of you wave/shrug/gesture, I pantomimed sure and let him.

When it was my turn to pay I pulled up to the booth.

"The last car paid your toll." I was told.

One part of me is sure he did because I let him go in front of me and I was surprised and delighted, but doing so was second nature.

Wanda and I often let people who look like they're in a hurry or have fewer things check out ahead of us at Safeway. I've been on line with nothing but milk watching someone pile item after item on the counter while trying to ignore me and it's maddening. Doing something for or being nice to another person is a blessing.

Another part of me thinks maybe he paid for me because I'm an old man driving an old car who looks like he hasn't got two tolls to rub together.

Either way, I'm good.