Dad

Dad:

I mentioned last time that "Dad is losing his mind first (though physical incompetence is catching up rapidly)."  Dad thinks his biggest problems are that he can't get his feet to move easily, that he forgets individual words, and that he doesn't get much sleep. 

If only he knew...  He can't move his feet because his weight is planted firmly on both of them.  He can't do the "shift weight to one foot, fall forward slightly, and swing the unweighted foot forward" that is walking.  When I suggest a cane, he refuses saying it wouldn't help.  When I suggest he just try a simple piece of closet pole (no cost involved) as a quick test, he refuses.  He has two walkers; one a 4 wheel type that can be a simple pushable wheelchair, the other a dedicated walker with 2 wheels in front for pushing.  He looks at thos every couple dsys, but will not try them out.

I understand why.  In the immediate sense, using them is the final surrender to old age.  In an indirect sense, Mom used a walker, then went to assisted living, then died.  Using a walker would be an acceptance of the sequence.

It sure makes life awkward though.  He is SO slow moving through the house without support!  Fortunately, the living area of the house has a circular design, so I can always go around him by walking through the other rooms.  Its usually much faster.

I don't want these posts about Dad's problems to seem like criticism or humor.  Yes, I sometimes fail to understand how he can think or do something so obviously non-sensical, and yes, I often make light of some really difficult conversations or actions.  Frustration slips in between the lines sometimes.  I'm doing this partly as a record of events, and partly so that others may see these things developing with their own elderly parents and understand its not unique.  There are patterns...

The latest...

1.  Dad has been either putting used food dishes in the sink or washing them and puting them in the dishwasher for months.  Today, he suddenly asked where to put ihis used coffee cup because the dishwasher was running.  I said "in the sink".  In the sink was a small tupperware container with a few small cat food bowls soaking in soapy water.  He said the sink was "full".  When I said there was plenty of room in the sink, he tried to push the coffee cup into the full tupperware container.  Seeing his confusion, I said to just put the coffee cup next the the container and I would take care of it.

2.  Sometimes before Noon, Dad will ask if I plan to make lunch that day.  Not that I've ever not made him lunch.  But lately, the conversation goes either of two directions. 

A.  Version one, when I present him with his sandwich and pickle/chips/carrotsticks/etc, he asks if I have made one for myself too.  Its an odd question because I make one large sandwich (my bread loaves are large) and cut it in half for each of us.  If there is one half a sandwich, there must be a 2nd half. 

B.  Version two, when he sees me making our lunch sandwich, he asks "are you making one for me too"?  Again, 4 months, and I have never failed to make his sandwich.  Now, that could be an attempt at humor.  But humor has certain inflections and facial expressions designed to clue us in on a joke.  He looks slightly woried, so its not that.  He's actually worried I won't feed him. 

3.  The yellow box on the toolshed...  Dad is constantly asking me weird questions about things he thinks he sees outside.  Today, he asked what "that yellow box on the side of the toolshed was".  He described where it was by referencing parts of the shed and giving directions from those.  I can usually figure out what he is looking at.  Never mind that IF there was a yellow box attached to the toolshed (150' away) , I would surely know about it...  If a sparrow fell on the roof, I would notice.  I can see when there is a hummingbird at the feeder on the toolshed.  There was no yellow box on the toolshed.  None.  At all.

4.  Dishwasher...  If you or I were visiting a friend and added dinner plates to the dishwasher helping to clean up, we would notice the the host placed plates in one area, bowls in another, glasses in another, etc.  Dad can't see patterns anymore.  He puts stuff in the dishwasher anywhere (when he tries) randomly.  I don't mind that much, but when he catches me rearranging things, he acts disrespected.  He nests spoons together, too (dangerous).  My point is that he can't detect patterns or organizations, and he was an engineer.  Among the many abilities he has lost, his sense of logical organization may be the saddest.

 5.  Did you notice details in the picture of Dad outside at the top?  He complains about being cold in the house, wearing shorts and a thin golf shirt.  I keep the house at 74F (too warm for me too cold to him).  But I have learned to wear shorts and light shirts to adjust as best I can (my perfect temperature is 70).  Notice that ir was 82F outside.  Dad put on a sweater to go outside in warmer temperature!  When he came back inside, he took the sweater OFF and complained about being cold again.

You know, he used to live in NH.  He knows how to dress for the cold.  He just WON'T anymore.  I bought 3 nice light long sleeved shirts today.  Technically, they are for me.  But maybe I can get Dad to try wearing them.

I can't believe its only been 4 months, it seems like Dad has been here a year...

Dementia?

I thought I knew what dementia meant.  I thought it was about forgetting things.  I thought if someone had it REAL bad they tended to wander away or forget who you were and that was Alzheimer's. 

Well I was wrong.  I didn't realize the degree of unreasonable self-orientation involved in dementia! 

I've gotten used to Dad breaking in with a trivial question involving past or future events while I am trying to get dinner on the table.  I am used to him bugging me about having lunch ready promptly at noon and dinner at 6 pm.  He was ALWAYS fussy about schedules.

I am used to him complaining unsensibly.  If the TV shows a poor news video, he complains that my (Big Screen HD Plasma 1080) TV is poor quality.  If there isn't anything he wants to watch, he complains I have a poor cable system (1,000 and "57 channels and nothings on"...).  The sink water doesn't get hot immediately. 

My favorite last week was that he needed a calendar because he couldn't tell what day it was.  He couldn't figure out why looking at a calendar wouldn't tell him what day it was.

But today was a new low.  I don't mean that he said he had another family for a decade or that I wasn't his son.  Not THAT level.

But...  I have people here putting new siding on the house.  Its noisy work, and they have a job to do.  Dad is normally happy watching Fox News and listening to the talking heads.  I've been mostly staying outside watching them work (its fascinating), and I make sure to ask Dad how things are going every hour or so. 

Well, apparently Fox News was replaying a speech by Paul Ryan and all the hammering annoyed him.  When I came in, Dad was ANGRY.  "They should have stopped all the hammering during his speaking (sic), out of respect"!

Me:  "What?!?

Dad:  "They should have stopped when someone important was speaking"!

Me:  "Dad, they have a job to do.  They have a schedule".

Dad:  "It was disrespectful"!

Me:  "Dad, you're being unreasonable.  They didn't know someone was speaking and they wouldn't stop working if they did.  I don't care if a politician is speaking.  Most of the world wouldn't care.  People have to keep doing their jobs.

Dad:  "YOU'RE NOT UNDERSTANDING ME!  THIS WAS IMPORTANT"!

US:  (Some repetitive back-and-forth angry/calming words)

Me:  "Dad, please sit down, watch your political TV.  I'm busy!"  (leaves house)

I was completely surprised by the whole event.  I accept the daily forgetfulness, I accept his confusion about bills, etc (and I can deal with that); but I hadn't seen the irrationality involving a real-time event on such a personal level before.  And it wasn't at sundown...

Mom became physically unable while still mentally competent.  Dad is losing his mind first (though physical incompetence is catching up rapidly).  

More about all that next time.  

This Day

No terrible act is remembered forever in history.  But I will remember THIS day 11 years ago all MY life.

December 7, 1941 is etched in my memory, though I was not alive them.  I know it from history, but what was recent history to me when I aged enough.

November 22, 1963 is part of my childhood memory as a day of great sadness.  I remember looking up at the public address system of the school when it was announced that the President had been killed.  The PA box was blonde wood, rounded square shaped,  slightly wider at the top than the bottom, with brown cloth covering the speaker.  You remember the strangest things sometimes.

I was older of course on 9-11.  The day started with an announcement on the radio about a small plane crashing into a World Trade Center Building.  I mentioned it in passing to my supervisor.  The next few reports made it seem worse.

Then I felt a THUMP under my feet at 9:37.  I didn't know that the Pentagon had been struck.  But I realized after that, that I had felt the strike. I happened to look at my watch.  Seared in memory.

My govt office had some Emergency Management functions, so there was a special TV in a conference room.  Most of us ended up in there.  I was out on the roof at the time the first Tower went down, so I didn't see it in real time.

I saw the 2nd Tower go down though.  Most thought it a replay of the 1st Tower, but I saw the difference and called attention to it.  We all stared in horror.

There are evil vicious cruel acts occurring all over the world on a daily basis.  Victims have their lives shattered every day.  No one is free of them.  I will not make guesses on "worst".

There are reasons given for all destructive killing acts.  Most of them are pathetically weak.  But some are more unsensible and evil than others.

I have a background in history.  Phenomenally and nearly innumerable horrible acts abound through the ages.  Pol Pot, Nazis, Colonialism, Inquisitions, Witch-Burnings, European Christian Crusades, Islamist invasions, Mongol and Hun attacks, Viking slaughters, and back on through the lost times of history.  No age is free of vicious and pointless deaths.

But I will remember 9-11 all my life with a line I read in the book 'Dune'.  "Never forgive, never forget".

But I should.  When I read about some cultural group angry about something that happened 500 years ago, I have to wonder about the "never forgetting" part.  There was the December 7th attack, but we think of Japan as an ally now.  As Germany is a democracy now, as is Italy.  Forgiveness is possible.

There may be a day when I will forgive the Islamists for the 9-11 attack.

But today is not that day.  

Dadisms

Salad dressing is "paste".

The cats are "dogs" and they (2 female 1 male) are all "he".

Paper clips are "safety pins".  Or do I have that backwards?  He wanted safety pins for his pajamas and saw paper clips, thinking they were safety pins.

Any pile of brown leaves in the back yard is a "groundhog".

The paperclip/safetypin one was the strangest this week.  He came out looking for safety pins.  He said he had seen 2 on the dining room table.  For those of you with organized rooms and lifestyles, I should mention that our "dining table" is only partially for eating at.  Its also our general desk for bills and newspapers, etc.  So after Dad fussed around with his bills and seemed to be trying to  attach them together, it occurred to me that Dad might actually be looking for paperclips, of which there ARE 2 on the table, but hidden behind the napkins.

So I picked them up and showed them, asking if these were what he was looking for.  He said "yes" so I dropped the matter.  For a minute...

He WAS actually looking for safety pins, and thought the paperclips WERE safety pins.  5 minutes of awkward discussion followed.  Wherein I finally learned that he really DID want 2 safety pins for his pajamas, and he was convinced that the 2 paperclips I showed him were what he needed.  I'm used to him getting the wrong word for things, but not the wrong actual object! 

The low point of the discussion was DAD:  "I've been alive a lot longer than you, and I know what a safety pin is (looking at the paperclips)! 

OOO-KAY...  He finally mentioned there were safety pins on the pajamas in his hamper.  So I got them and he went off and did whatever he wanted the safety pins for (I haven't asked - YET).

Thats when I noticed his toenails are all about an inch long...  I hadn't seen him barefoot.   Got to do something about that, since I guess he can't reach his feet anymore.  I don't mind clipping them for him, but you would think he would have mentioned it before.  Or not.  I'm still learning to be a caretaker.

Its all quite confusing.  Every day is a new learning experience.  In one way, that's good for me; new challenges are good for the mind.  Clipping Dad's toenails might not be quite the mental experience I would choose.  But what needs to be done WILL be done...

Well, some day I may have to help him wash in the tub or even wipe his butt.  I can wait...  Computer games are a sufficient mind challenge for now.  But it seems I'll be getting different challenges than I expected soon.

Roof Replacement

Well, it sure got noisy around here today.  Last week, a branch fell and poked a small hole in the roof, so I had a person come out to take a look at it.  He did a quick patch job, but we discussed a fuller replacement job because the "20 year" shingles were 26 years old.  I found him on Angie's List and he had top ratings in every category, so I decided to get a quote for replacing the shingles. roofing paper, and any plywood sheathing that needed it in his opinion.

And since the vinyl siding was the same age, and abraded by weather to the point were even pressure cleaning it every few months left it dirty and ugly, I got a quote for new siding and gutters with covers.

The roof work was done today.  The crew did a thorough efficient job and the crew manager explained what they were doing every step of the way.  The siding has to wait about a week, because the trim color I selected had to be special ordered.

There really isn't too much to show about a roof job.  It's too flat (and high) to get any really good pictures.

It was amazing watched them go up and down the ladder, walk along the edge of the roof, toss stuff up to the roof from the ground, etc, though.

Here is a guy shoving plywood sheathing up a ladder.  I would have difficulty just carrying the plywood on the ground!

And if I was the guy on the top, there is NO possibility I could get it the rest of the way up.

So "let it rain"!

I can't wait for the new siding and covered gutters...

Ack. Roof Problem!

You never know when you will discover a house problem.  I happened to reach for a book on the top shelf of the bookcase, and a "wrong" image caught my eye.  You live in a house for 26 years and you know every square inch of it...

There was a slightly off-color spot on the living room ceiling.  I looked at it a few minutes, then backed away across the room.  A 3' area sagged about an inch.  I got up into the attic...

The attic is not my favorite area.  I always expect that hornets will have moved in, or squirrels, or knife-wielding people with masks.  Its been a year at least since I was up there.  Its "The Land of Old Boxes and Junk".  Ayla loves to climb ladders, and even she won't go up there!

Years ago, I put plywood sheets down on the center of the attic.  I meant to do the other half, but there were problems with wiring going over the joists and I put it off.  I should have finished the work. 

Because when I got up there and crab-walked over the joists to where the possible leak was, I found one!  One drop per minute while it was raining yesterday.  When the rain stopped, so did the drips.

So I looked around for a wide pan to catch the drips so they wouldn't soak the plaster ceiling any more.  I found an unused cat litter pan in the basement and went back in the attic with a piece of plywood scrap to span the joists to support the pan to collect the drips. 

You know how, any time you find a good solution, a better comes to mind after?  I was looking around for a large wide container to catch drips and settled on a kitty litty pan.  Well, when I went to bed that night, I was staring at a HUGE plastic storage bin that would hold about 20 gallons! 

I'm usually smarter than that about thinking of the best things to use.  But fortunately the rain is stopped for a week, so the need to get back up into the attic with the larger container is delayed.

I had a roofing expert come to the house today.  He was REALLY NICE!  He got up on the roof, examined the spot, and saw that a tree branch had fallen onto the roof and punctured the plywood slightly.  Small hole, slow leak.  Ans his best guess that even a hurricane (like Isaac) coming up through  the Southeast US IF it hit maryland on the way east, wouldn't fill the pan.  So I'm OK.

But that means a roof job.  It's 26 years old.  I had been planning to replace it anyway.  20 year guarantee and lasting 26 years is "OK".

But the roof isn't the only problem.  The cheap vinyl siding is about worn out.  It was "builders grade", and that is about as poor as it gets.  But I didn't know anything about that stuff 26 years ago.  It needs to be replaced too.  It is so abraded by weather that the surface is rough and grows mold and mildew rampantly.  It stayed clean for 13 years, so I cleaned it.  Then it only stayed clean for 3 years and I cleaned it.  Then it only stayed clean 1 years.  Then 6 months.  Now it can't stay clean of mold and mildew on the north side of the house at all.  So I need new vinyl siding.

So I have added new siding to the roof job (he does both).  I'm not going to be "the blue house" anymore.  We are changing to a slightly greyish green  with darker green trim and "heather" shingles.

I couldn't expect it all to last forever.  Well, actually, I didn't expect to live in this "starter house" for 26 years.  But here I am and I don't plan to move just yet.

I'm glad I have savings, I can write a check for the whole work...  On the other hand, that's 80% of the  checking account.  But the house is going to look a WHOLE lot better in a couple weeks and I'm not touching the savings account at all..  Happily, the inside is in great condition.

Its time to have some work done on the house...

Things are going to be VERY NOISY here for 3 days in a week from now...

Computer Games

I love playing people at board/card games.  And the only way to do it these days is by computer.  My favorite games are Risk, Scrabble, Hearts, and Backgammon.

A place to play is pogo.com.  Not a recommendation, just where I play.  You get an avatar to represent you, and I got it uo to 800,000 points.  And got really annoyed that I was staying up late at nights to play.

So I cancelled my account.

Oh was I regretful...  And I couldn't get it back.  So a few months ago, I started again from ZERO!

This week, I reached 1,000,000 points.

Just before...

And just after...

Yeah, that's my avatar.  Indiana Jones hat and camo outfit.   Suits me just fine, and I actually wear that stuff IRL.  LOL!

 I think that "84%" means percentile of all scores.  Which is good I suppose for a casual player.   The serious players play every night for a few hours.  I'm not obsessed; I just like to play once a week.

Now that I have my million (and lots of players have WAY more than that), I want to earn enough points to add a cat to my avatar and stay above 1M!  I mean, what am I without a cat?  So I better go play more now.  I think I need 25,000 to get my cat.

Dadisms

I hope it is alright to find some slight humor in the Dadisms I get day-to-day.  I don't mean great laughs; sometimes humor is the better alternative to crying. 

1.  Dad has been seeing the progress of Tropical Storm (possibly to be Hurricane) Isaac down around Cuba via the TV reports.  WHILE I was trying to finish cooking dinner (of course, his timing is always wretched), he suddenly had urgent concerns that we should prepare for power outages.

Dad:  We need to get ready for power outages.

Mark:  Why?

Dad:  The Hurricane...

Mark:  We are not threatened by a hurricane.

Dad:  No, it will be here tonight, we have to get ready.

[Ok, now I could have gone 2 ways here, and I actually did think about it.  I could have said, "yes, I will get the candles out and and fill clean bottles with fresh water".  But I'm obsessed with reality.  So it progressed like this]...

Mark:  Dad, the hurricane isn't a hurricane yet, it is about a week away from us if it even comes NEAR us, we won't lose power, and if we DO, the food is good for a day in the freezer, and I will cook the fresh meat on the grill to save it.

Dad:  You're not listening to me, the hurricane is coming tonight and the power will be out for days.

Mark:  I'm listening to you but you're wrong.  1.  The power doesn't go out here because the cables are underground.  2.  I've lived here for 26 years and the power has never gone off for more than 2 hours, a one-off equipment failure in non-storm times.  3.  The storm is 1500 miles away, 5 days, and IF it comes through here it will only be a day of steady drizzle, which I would VERY much like.  4.  If the absolutely bizarre worst happened, I would simply put you in the front seat of the car and the cats (in PTUs) in the car and we would stay a few days out of state on our credit cards...

Dad:  But...

Mark:  Get out of the kitchen and let me finish cooking dinner!  I will deal with the Hurricane problem RIGHT after dinner!!!

Dad is getting more uncertain about where he is living.  I suppose he thinks he was in Florida for some of the discussion (but he knows Maryland for other parts).  It seems the concept of geographical distance is becoming harder for him to recall.  He really thinks the Tropical Storm Isaac is very close to us (in Maryland).  

I don't want to ignore his concerns, but when they are non-sensical and I'm trying to get all the parts of dinner cooked at the same time, I just don't HAVE time for his confusions.

2.  The groundhog sightings...  I caged a groundhog on July 17th and relocated it.  Since that time, Dad has claimed to see a groundhog in the back yard every single day.  It is always a pile of dead leaves or a dark spot on the shed foundation.  Every day, I have to walk outside and point to the spot he is convinced there is a groundhog and show him that there isn't one. 

Repeated errors in seeing groundhogs every day doesn't bother him a bit.  So when he stated AGAIN that there was a groundhog out back, I hesitated to even look.  But he said there was one running around, no doubt this time, I looked.  Yes there was. 

I set up the live cage, trapped it in an hour and relocated it later.

But here's the thing.  He said it was weird to get one just 2  days after the last one.  Um, it was 4 weeks ago.  Dad insisted it was only 2 days.  I showed him the picture from the last time (July 17/18).  He said that was the first one this year.  Dad wasn't even HERE then. 

His time-memory of current events is completely shot.  He can't remember simple things one day to the next.  I have a really hard time dealing with this.  I have a better-than-average memory for events than most people.  I have a worse-than-average about "people-things", so I'm not claiming anything special.  Meaning, I can remember buying things better than I can who I was talking to when I bought the item.  Many people have the opposite memory, and I envy them in that quite often. 

But Dad insisted I relocated a groundhog only 2 days before the last one, and it was 4 weeks...

3.  Dad gives me instructions befitting a child more and more often these last couple of weeks.  I'm not sure how to say he is "reverting to adulthood".  Parenthood of a child, I guess...  I announced the other night that I was going to bed early because I had stayed up late the night before.  He told me to make sure I "used the facilities" before I went to bed.  You tell a 5 year old that. 

When I make a meal, he sometimes asks "do you have enough for yourself"?  Well, considering the fact that I make dinners and divide them with what my grandmother used to call "the miking eye" (meaning micrometer precision) IN HIS PRESENCE, that is always a bit disturbing.

Every single night, we eat dinner and he eats at the table (because it doesn't wobble when he cuts his meat ineptly) and I eat on a TV tray so I can (briefly) watch a science DVD in peace and no "they can't know THAT" comments from Dad.  Every meal, toward the END of the meal, he always asks "Do you want more salt or more butter"?  Next week, he may be asking me if I need help cutting up my food. 

He clearly thinks of me as a child needing help.  I wouldn't mind so much if it wasn't for the fact that he has always treated me that way, and I've always been the independent one of the kids...  I DO NOT understand this particular oddity on Dad's part.

*SIGH*

A Day In The Life...

I had a busy day.  Now, I'm not trying to compare MY busy to others.  I'm retired and until Dad moved in 3 months ago today, I lived alone.  So some people are busy 25 hours a day, 8 days a week and I wasn't one of them.

But, for me, it was busy.  I got up at 10 am.  That would seem luxurious, but it was only 7 hours sleep because I was up late on the computer.  The only "me" time I get is after Dad goes to bed at 11:30.  So I stay up late a lot more often than I used to.  After the usual getting showered and dressed stuff:
1.  Fed the cats.
2.  Made lunch (fancy sandwiches with crudites, as usual).
3.  Read the whole newspaper.
4.  Took the newest captured groundhog to a relocation site.
5.  Grocery-shopped
6.  Farm market-shopped.
7.  Let the cats outside for 30 minutes while accompanying them around the yard.
8.  Brushed the sticky-seeds out of their fur after coming in.
9.  Mixed dough in the bread machine for making dinner rolls.
10.  Marinated pork chops in minced fresh garlic/ginger/basil/sage leaves.
11.  Pressed down dinner roll dough lightly on silpat to even thickness and allow rising.
12.  Started breadloaf in breadmachine.
13.  Played with cats 15 minutes.
14.  Prepared dinner.  Cut tops of green beans, made salad, cooked potato, cooked corn.  All fresh.  Coated pork chops with home-made "shake&bake".
15.  Just as everything is almost cooked, Dad insists he must fill up the salt and pepper shakers which I do not realize yet).  Typical confusing conversation ensues:  D:  Where is the salt and pepper?  Me:  On the table.  D: I can see that!  Me: What???  D: I need the salt!  Me:  (I check the table, there is salt and pepper there), its right there.  D:  Where is YOUR salt?  Me:  Its in the grinders, but don't ask me this NOW, I'm cooking.

He likes salt and pepper shakers, I like grinders.  His salt and pepper shakers were only 25% full and it distressed him, so he "needed to get then refilled at once".  I was busy trying to get everything out of the oven and stovetop pans and he has to worry about that RIGHT THEN?

This is a habit of his I am discovering.  He bothers people with time-consuming trivial matters when they are most busy.  I guess that is "passive-aggressive".  Thinking back, I see that has been a lifelong habit of minor manipulation.  When I was a teen, I enjoyed the process of making meals.  I used to send time with Mom in the kitchen being useful at small stuff (peeling carrots, chopping lettuce for salads, etc).  I recall Dad coming in and asking odd questions even then. 

I have always had a fine relationship with both my parents, in their own special ways, but now I have more sympathy for Mom at those times.  Of course, each had their own individual ways to annoy too, but I learned to deal with those.  But I've got Dad's all day these days...

I ordered him OUT OF THE KITCHEN and told him I would deal with the salt&pepper crisis later.  He is not used to that.  Well, we are BOTH on a learning curve...

16.  We had a fine dinner of baked breaded pork chops, salad, corn on the cob, baked potato (OK, M/V potato, but there's not much difference) and green beans overcooked as he likes them.
17.  Cut the risen dinner roll dough into squares and set them in the oven to bake.  Recipe says 30 minutes, but they came out hard last time.  Made it 25 minutes.
18.  Took the bread machine dough out to remove the mixer handle before baking.  This really helps.  If I take the loaf out with the handle in it, it tears a chunk of bread out of the bottom.  More timing effort, but better results. 
19.  Put the dough back in the breadmachine to finish "loafing".  Dad loves my bread (so does everyone).  Adding garlic powder, onion powder and a lot of oregano, and using beer in place of water really makes great bread! 

Oops, be right back, I just heard the TV go to a color signal, which means that Dad is losing the nightly struggle with the remote control... 

OK, I fixed that (again). 

20.  Took the breadloaf out to cool and started the mixer going for more chocolate chip cookies.  Dad has both a sweet tooth and a starch tooth.  Cookies, coffeecake, potatoes, bread.  He can eat spaghetti with bread and a potato, and cookies for dessert.  I suppose that, at his age, it doesn't really matter.
21.  Played "toss mousies" with Iza while I ate dinner.  She loves that.  She attacks them fiercely, and often fetches them back to me. 
22.  Dad can't stay away from Fox News.
23.  Put half the dinner rolls in a plastic food bag on the counter, the other half in a okastic food bag in the freezer.
24.  Dad will be wanting a bowl of ice cream soon.  I try to get him to eat fresh fruit, but that was never something he got used to.
25.  Cleaned the litter boxes.
26.  The rest of the night: Visit cat blog friends, make tomorrow's post, email those who have written, listen unhapily to Fox News on the TV from 3 rooms away (Dad is hard of hearing).
27.  Just before going to bed, feed the cats.
28.  After going to bed, sleep with cats...

Tomorrow, repeat again and again and again...

Dad, Claiming He Is COLD!

This is the clothes that Dad wears.

This is the clothes that Dad wears when he says he is "TOO COLD" in the house.

Note the thin top shirt, not even with an undershirt.  Note the thin shorts.  Note the socks even pushed down to the shoes!

This is the thermostat in the house in the house that Dad claims is TOO COLD.

And it is 80 in his bedroom and in the TV room...  And he complains about THAT.  But wait, when it is 80 in his bedroom he is happy, and when it is 80 in the TV room, it is "too cold?!


This is what I have to wear every day to keep from melting to death...  Short pants...

 Short sleeves...

And I sweat in bed every night...

This is no way to live...  But the alternative is to walk around nekkid, an no one wants THAT!