My husband of 45 years has me upset over his unreasonable demand to move down the mountain into an old folks home in Redlands. He wants me to give up my cabin in the woods, sell my furniture and all my trinkets and treasures, and live with him in a one-bedroom claustrophobic apartment in the city.
He’s driving around right now tacking up the yard sale signs. He’ll be setting out the tables soon enough, demanding that I sell my gray squirrel collection, the black bear knickknacks, the wildlife tchotchkes and bric-â–brac, the bird feeders, the flannel sheets and all my raccoon bed pillows. Why, he’s even got a coin changer clamped over his belt.
We have three dogs and no children to speak of. The elderly prison allows only one dog less than 15 pounds and that’s little Frenchie. How do I tell the Huskies, Mange and Killer, that they can’t come with us? We’ll have to rehome them on Facebook. And then there’s the problem with the eight cats. Hubby keeps opening all the doors, but they refuse to go outside.
The cost at Almost Paradise is four times our monthly nut. We’ll be down to just our measly Social Security in a few years. Then where will we end up? They’ll dump us out into the street or into some god-awful county run death trap.
For the first time, we will be sharing one closet. Kill me now. Please give me a clue how to turn this thing around right quick!
Already in Paradise in Crestline
Dear Already in Paradise,
Going by the date of your correspondence, the old man was smart not to miss the annual Labor Day weekend yard sale extravaganza.
Well, it seems to me that all the various papers have been signed and he’s ready to go and you’re just hanging on for dear life. This can be a grand adventure, one that you can share with us dyed-in-the-wool mountain folks. You can be our guinea pig. You know, at the end of each snowy winter, my better half gets on the Internet and checks out independent living for us old folks. Gosh, two meals a day in a fancy cafeteria, a swimming pool and Jacuzzi, transportation to the doctor are all included – after you sign over your kids’ inheritance. Yes, that’s the downside; the fancy facility is not giving you your deposit back, not ever.
I don’t like breaking up a happy home but, if that last dotted line has not been signed, try initiating commitment papers pronto. It wouldn’t be the first time that a wife called her husband “crazy.”
Sidney
Send your questions for Sidney to Sidney@thealpinemountaineer.com or by snail mail to Dear Sidney, The Alpine Mountaineer, P.O. Box 4572, Crestline, CA 92325.
This advice is intended for entertainment purposes only. No animals were harmed in the writing of this column.
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