November-December 2020: Holiday Survival Guide

Just weeks before the November post was due, I received some shocking news: due to emergency reconstruction work, all tenants on the west side of our apartment building had to move out by November 15. The news came with an upside: management would pay our moving expenses, relocate us to a lovely building a few blocks away, and compensate us for our grief. The blow remained a bitter one: I'd just moved in April and had succeeded in building a comfortable cave. Still, I had a choice of a half-dozen apartments--one of which rang all my bells. It was a top floor unit with a view and gorgeous hardwood floors. And the promised compensation would help pave the way to the knee replacement surgery I hope to have early next year.

So, despite a raging virus and election madness everywhere and a surge in Covid Craziness, I set out to prove the basics I've preached in this blog.  While working, writing, and working out, I planned my move, packed my stuff into 29 green Frog Boxes, found a moving company I could afford, cleaned the old apartment, moved into the new on November 6, and was unpacked and settled within the next week.

Keep it simple

The kitchen and office area were behind me when I took this shot. The emphasis here is on clean vertical lines in contrast to the horizontal split of my former studio. I did this for two reasons. 

1) My cave thinking had evolved. And I craved the expansive, energizing sense the uncluttered new layout affords me. 

2) I need to prepare for knee surgery next year. Clean corridors will be a must to keep me from taking  tumble. The orthopedic surgeon spelled out the consequences bluntly if I were to fall on the knee.

So, since November 6, my new cave has taken on a new dimension. More than a place to relax, create, and work out, it must be a safe haven. The bathroom, I'd been warned, was a minefield of accidents for seniors. And an older man with a new knee would be at serious risk. The two greatest dangers: the shower and a low-seated throne. I needed to do some smart shopping.

Here are before/after shots of the shower. Imagine having to reach in the shower for goodies in various corners.

Before

After

And here is their companion: a rock-solid safety rail mounted on the tub and adjacent to the throne.

The Grab Me, Baby

So far, so good, it seemed to me. And yet another concern was connected to my evolving sense of what a cave can be. My concern began with the awareness of the problems my low mattress would cause. The mattress, a discount dud, sat atop a solid-topped platform barely a foot high. Even now, getting out of bed required hard work and strategy. I needed a frame measuring at least 18".

But why stop there, using a mattress that really was the shits? Could I even remember the last time I'd had a great night's sleep? I'd slept on discount duds, used mattresses, forgeddaboutit futons all my life--and I had an aching back to prove that. But couldn't the cave also be a place to heal, in sleep, each night?

I did some serious soul-searching and spent hours of research online...doing my best to resist shelling out the money I knew that I needed to spend. In the end, it all came down to this--a blue box with a memory foam mattress, exquisite sateen cotton sheets, and a jumbo pillow.

Sock it to me, Nectar

I doubt that any of this would have come about if not for the forced move in November. And I wouldn't wish the experience on you. I hope you're rockin' in your caves and well-fortified against the post-election madness and the Covid Crazies. Even so, take a moment to think about the layout of your cave and if it energizes you. Is your cave as safe as it can be? Remember: 

80 percent of home falls are said to occur in the bathroom. 

Finally, take a moment to rate the quality of your sleep. If your score's as low as mine was, then you know what to do. 

                                 SPECIAL ADVANCE CHRISTMAS BONUS 

Here are three tells that you shouldn't ignore:

1) You hit the Snooze button repeatedly each morning.

3) Your bedding's all over the place when you wake.

3) Your back begs you for mercy. 

Cheers. Gotta go now. 

It's kettlebell time!

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