As I see it right now, the smoking ban could become a be-careful-what-you-wish-for situation. In our honorable attempts to make public places safe for all, we've perhaps created a new monster. Health is important and I've heard the reports about second hand smoke, but now for those of us who live near a restaurant/bar (and in West Allis, who doesn't), we're about to have a new problem.
I'm watching out my window as the local bar builds an "outdoor dining area" which is just a fancy name for an outdoor smoking patio. So now, instead of the bar noise staying inside the bar, people will be taking their various levels of drunkenness in and out of the building till bar close every night of the week to have a cigarette, and, essentially, move the bar atmosphere into our backyards.
I know most everyone has navigated the loss of a loved one. I'm also sure most of you have made trips to a nursing home that you would prefer to forget. As you know, I lost my dad in October of last year. A week ago, my grandma had to be put in a nursing home.
Nothing new to those of you have have preceded me in this experience, but it feels like life is catching up with me in a big way. Before Dad's parents died a few years ago, people told me how lucky I was to have both sets of grandparents still alive. Most of them had lost at least one grandparent already, some had lost all of them. I would smile and agree with them, but couldn't really imagine a day when they wouldn't be there. I had picked an age that seemed appropriate for them in my head and they never got older. I think I missed my grandparents' 70s all together because I was convinced they were only 68 the whole way through.
Any of you who have read my blog for any length of time know I have three cats. You may also remember my occasional complaints about the amount of money I've left at the veterinary office. I'm sure I single-handedly paid for their new addition through dental cleanings and twice yearly geriatric checkups.
Admittedly, it can get expensive, but I never want my cats to be sick -- in fact, if I could make them live forever, I'd be the first one in line. My oldest, Apollo, is 17 and I'm more interested in a fountain of youth for him than for myself. This cat has been with me through most of my adult life. Everything I've done, he's done with me. That might not have been possible if I hadn't made sure he received proper veterinary care.