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*
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
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...
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...
Friday, August 17, 2012
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!
This is the clothes that Dad wears when he says he is "TOO COLD" in the house.
This is the thermostat in the house in the house that Dad claims is TOO COLD.
This is what I have to wear every day to keep from melting to death... Short pants...
This is no way to live... But the alternative is to walk around nekkid, an no one wants THAT!
Sunday, August 12, 2012
August Meteor Showers!
And I can't see them AGAIN this year. Its all overcast. I'm a bit conflicted by that. First, the clouds are there because we got a decent rainfall this evening, and we sure needed THAT! 1 1/4" of rain in the past 2 days, and that's about the best since April. Second, the temperature dropped to 70 (briefly) during the daylight, and I haven't felt THAT outside for months.
But I love astronomy. When I moved here 26 years ago, I could occasionally see the milky way, and seeing the constellations was routine. Over the years, light pollution and general haze has eliminated the milky way from home "seeing" (astronomese for "good viewing) , and it is a rare night when the constellations are clear. About 2 months ago, I was taking the recycling bins to the street when I realized that the stars were quite visible. I don't know "why", just one of those things.
I stayed out for an hour just "seeing". I even noticed one star that shouldn't have been there in a constellation. I went to the computer to see if there was a new nova star, and discovered it was Jupiter. So I went back out and looked around a bit. Sure enough, I found Mars and another planet (Saturn I suppose, because Venus would have been closer to the sun).
It made me think back to a camping trip to Canada in 1980 (or thereabouts). The first night, the stars shone madly and the milky way was vivid. The other nights were overcast. Well, at least I saw that one night.
Can you imagine what the night sky must have looked like "only" a few centuries ago? Absolutely ablaze with stars! No wonder our ancestors saw images among them, there were SO MANY more stars visible. I envy that so much.
But to get back to the beginning (meteor showers, remember?), tonight was the night to see the Perseid meteor shower. And it is predicted to be one of the better years for it (about 100 meteors per hour). I won't see it, and it is probably near it peak about know. I am covered with clouds...
There are only a few major meteor showers each year, and even those have really good years only every few/many years.
Sorry, that's a bit confusing. We see meteor showers at the same times every year because the Earth passes through the same point as some cometary debris orbit at the same time every year. Meaning that the cometary debris that we call meteors intersects Earth orbit the same time every year, but the debris is not spread out along the orbit uniformly. So some years, we hit denser patches of debris than in other years. Those times can be spectacular. But you can't see them if there are clouds; and this year, for me, there are clouds.
You know what frustrates me most? MOST years, the sky is overcast here on the best meteor nights. I feel cursed sometimes. Its all random, of course, but I still fell unlucky about meteor showers. I'll have to go look at OTHER people's images of the meteors tomorrow on websites. Well, at least there is that. But it's not the same as real seeing. And I miss real seeing...
But I love astronomy. When I moved here 26 years ago, I could occasionally see the milky way, and seeing the constellations was routine. Over the years, light pollution and general haze has eliminated the milky way from home "seeing" (astronomese for "good viewing) , and it is a rare night when the constellations are clear. About 2 months ago, I was taking the recycling bins to the street when I realized that the stars were quite visible. I don't know "why", just one of those things.
I stayed out for an hour just "seeing". I even noticed one star that shouldn't have been there in a constellation. I went to the computer to see if there was a new nova star, and discovered it was Jupiter. So I went back out and looked around a bit. Sure enough, I found Mars and another planet (Saturn I suppose, because Venus would have been closer to the sun).
It made me think back to a camping trip to Canada in 1980 (or thereabouts). The first night, the stars shone madly and the milky way was vivid. The other nights were overcast. Well, at least I saw that one night.
Can you imagine what the night sky must have looked like "only" a few centuries ago? Absolutely ablaze with stars! No wonder our ancestors saw images among them, there were SO MANY more stars visible. I envy that so much.
But to get back to the beginning (meteor showers, remember?), tonight was the night to see the Perseid meteor shower. And it is predicted to be one of the better years for it (about 100 meteors per hour). I won't see it, and it is probably near it peak about know. I am covered with clouds...
There are only a few major meteor showers each year, and even those have really good years only every few/many years.
Sorry, that's a bit confusing. We see meteor showers at the same times every year because the Earth passes through the same point as some cometary debris orbit at the same time every year. Meaning that the cometary debris that we call meteors intersects Earth orbit the same time every year, but the debris is not spread out along the orbit uniformly. So some years, we hit denser patches of debris than in other years. Those times can be spectacular. But you can't see them if there are clouds; and this year, for me, there are clouds.
You know what frustrates me most? MOST years, the sky is overcast here on the best meteor nights. I feel cursed sometimes. Its all random, of course, but I still fell unlucky about meteor showers. I'll have to go look at OTHER people's images of the meteors tomorrow on websites. Well, at least there is that. But it's not the same as real seeing. And I miss real seeing...
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Living With Dad, 14
First, my thanks to all who offerred suggestions on good elder-friendly TV/Cable remote control devices. I ordered one I found through Amazon and it arrived today. I haven't tried it out yet because it needs 4 AAA baterries and I need to buy more recharageable ones (rechargeable batteries are the way to go these days). But everytime I think I have "too many", I get another device and need more. I've looked at the control, and it has nice big buttons without too many of them, so I think it may serve well (if it works as advertised). But now that I have your good list of suggestions, I may get a 2nd one. I like Verizon FiOS cable/internet/phone service, but their remote controls even frustrate ME. I wish Verizon would use the same remote control that Comcast used - it never gave me any trouble. I don't need a remote with bigger buttons for myself (yet) but I need one that actually registers the buttons I push firmly and at a normal speed. So I will get a 2nd from the list of suggestions.
Second, I'm concerned by changes in Dad's preferences and understandings. 10 weeks ago, Dad liked the way I steamed vegetables. "Cooked, but still firm". Now, suddenly, he wants them soft. He used to like to tell how a former-co-worker-turned-chinese-restaurant-owner said the secret of veggies was to "cook until crisp". Now they must be soft enough to separate with the edge of a fork. He can still use a knife well enough. It occurs to me that that is the way his mother cooked vegetables...
I considered dental problems. Dad had a twinge from a tooth infection when he first came here. The dentist couldn't decide between 2 teeth, so he prescribed anti-biotics, then a root canal operation on the infected tooth ("because the infection will return"). The estimate was $950, and Dad is miserly. So he might be hiding a tooth problem. But he happily eats the raw carrots and celery I give him with his lunch sandwich. So I think it isn't the "raw veggie" that is bothering him. It has to be some sudden preference change. Do old folks change that fast?
I've mentioned before that Dad likes to watch Fox News all day. He asked today why I won't sit and watch TV with him. Well, I don't watch much TV to start with (things to do, I like to stay active). But you don't have to be a communist to not love Fox News. They raise the hair on the back of my neck. And it is hard to be in hearing range of the TV (which of course has to be loud because Dad's hearing is fading). So I try to stay usefully busy "elsewhere".
Third, he is having greater difficulties with mechanical things. The TV remote is one example (see above), but its not JUST manipulating the buttons. He is worse at understanding what the buttons on the remote and the screens on the TV even MEAN than just a few weeks ago.
Take the program grid. It shows the time along the top and channels down the side. He used to have difficulty remembering how to scroll up and down the list. Now he doesn't understand what it IS. On the remote, I have tried to reduce the explanations to simple "Channel Up or Down" and "Volume". He is losing the understanding of that.
Fourth, he is dozing off more often during the day. He doesn't believe me when I tell him he dozes off a dozen times a day (that I know of).
Fifth, I catch him standing in place for minutes at a time, hunched over and unmoving.
Sixth, every hot day, he complains that the kitchen ceiling light is broken. Every day, I explain that the fluorescent light ballast doesn't work well in hot weather (hot attic exposure) and needs to be left on when he leaves the room. Every day, he turns it off every time he leaves the room.
Seventh, Fox "News" has been his channel of choice for decades. Today, as I left to go grocery shopping, he was stuck on the TV listing screen. I asked him if he wanted me to change it to Fox News. He asked what that was. Quite frankly, if he forgets about Fox News, I will be delighted. But that he forgot it is a concern.
Eighth, I allow Iza out with me sometimes. I let Marley out with me (as a test) last week. Today I let all 3 cats out with me. I did it with Dad watching, and I told him that I was doing so. He watched me let them out. 10 minutes later, Dad was on the deck asking me if I knew there was a cat outside. Never mind that he was seeing me standing next to 2 of them and taking pictures. His memory was not 10 minutes long.
There is more, but that's sufficient. Dad is getting worse (in some ways) quickly. In other ways, he is doing fine. If Dad's brain is a house, some rooms are staying relatively clean and functional. Others are completely falling apart. It's hard to watch. I can adjust to most of the changes. If he wants his brocolli boiled to mush, fine. If he needs help with the TV, fine. If he thinks I don't get a newspaper each day, when I set it on the middle on the dining room table, thats fine.
But there is a day coming when he won't be able to manage his personal hygiene. I'll have to give up at that point.
Second, I'm concerned by changes in Dad's preferences and understandings. 10 weeks ago, Dad liked the way I steamed vegetables. "Cooked, but still firm". Now, suddenly, he wants them soft. He used to like to tell how a former-co-worker-turned-chinese-restaurant-owner said the secret of veggies was to "cook until crisp". Now they must be soft enough to separate with the edge of a fork. He can still use a knife well enough. It occurs to me that that is the way his mother cooked vegetables...
I considered dental problems. Dad had a twinge from a tooth infection when he first came here. The dentist couldn't decide between 2 teeth, so he prescribed anti-biotics, then a root canal operation on the infected tooth ("because the infection will return"). The estimate was $950, and Dad is miserly. So he might be hiding a tooth problem. But he happily eats the raw carrots and celery I give him with his lunch sandwich. So I think it isn't the "raw veggie" that is bothering him. It has to be some sudden preference change. Do old folks change that fast?
I've mentioned before that Dad likes to watch Fox News all day. He asked today why I won't sit and watch TV with him. Well, I don't watch much TV to start with (things to do, I like to stay active). But you don't have to be a communist to not love Fox News. They raise the hair on the back of my neck. And it is hard to be in hearing range of the TV (which of course has to be loud because Dad's hearing is fading). So I try to stay usefully busy "elsewhere".
Third, he is having greater difficulties with mechanical things. The TV remote is one example (see above), but its not JUST manipulating the buttons. He is worse at understanding what the buttons on the remote and the screens on the TV even MEAN than just a few weeks ago.
Take the program grid. It shows the time along the top and channels down the side. He used to have difficulty remembering how to scroll up and down the list. Now he doesn't understand what it IS. On the remote, I have tried to reduce the explanations to simple "Channel Up or Down" and "Volume". He is losing the understanding of that.
Fourth, he is dozing off more often during the day. He doesn't believe me when I tell him he dozes off a dozen times a day (that I know of).
Fifth, I catch him standing in place for minutes at a time, hunched over and unmoving.
Sixth, every hot day, he complains that the kitchen ceiling light is broken. Every day, I explain that the fluorescent light ballast doesn't work well in hot weather (hot attic exposure) and needs to be left on when he leaves the room. Every day, he turns it off every time he leaves the room.
Seventh, Fox "News" has been his channel of choice for decades. Today, as I left to go grocery shopping, he was stuck on the TV listing screen. I asked him if he wanted me to change it to Fox News. He asked what that was. Quite frankly, if he forgets about Fox News, I will be delighted. But that he forgot it is a concern.
Eighth, I allow Iza out with me sometimes. I let Marley out with me (as a test) last week. Today I let all 3 cats out with me. I did it with Dad watching, and I told him that I was doing so. He watched me let them out. 10 minutes later, Dad was on the deck asking me if I knew there was a cat outside. Never mind that he was seeing me standing next to 2 of them and taking pictures. His memory was not 10 minutes long.
There is more, but that's sufficient. Dad is getting worse (in some ways) quickly. In other ways, he is doing fine. If Dad's brain is a house, some rooms are staying relatively clean and functional. Others are completely falling apart. It's hard to watch. I can adjust to most of the changes. If he wants his brocolli boiled to mush, fine. If he needs help with the TV, fine. If he thinks I don't get a newspaper each day, when I set it on the middle on the dining room table, thats fine.
But there is a day coming when he won't be able to manage his personal hygiene. I'll have to give up at that point.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Dad, Walking
I love it when Dad walks around the yard. He stops to look at the flowers.
And he goes back to look where the groundhogs burrow. He remembers things about groundhogs. Like how they sit up when you whistle at them. That's from a long way in his past, but he DOES know that groundhogs annoy my around my garden, so he thinks to look for them out back often.
Not that he could sneak up on one and see it, but its the thought that counts...
He likes this chair in the shade of the saucer magnolia tree. I missed him sitting in it, but you can see that he is just getting up from it.
I don't want to be too obvious taking pictures of him. He doesn't like being seen hunched over, but that is his reality these days. I just accept it.
Love you, Dad...
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Hmm...
I don't want it to sound all negative. There are good points. Dad appreciates my cooking. I make him laugh with my rather casual references to his age and infirmities. Yes, that can be funny. We both know that neither of us will live forever, and when I make a joke about it, he can smile.
I don't mean that getting very old and staring death in the face is funny, but there are small things he can accept when I make light of them.
He falls, and I say that I set the gravity meter wrong again. When he struggles to sign his name on a check, I tell him I gave him the trick pen again. When the cats get in the way of his feet, I say they just want him on the floor so he can give them scritchies. When he sees his annuity check on the monthly bank statement, sometimes I ask him how long he thinks I can get away with it going in there after the Caddies take him to that great golf course in the sky.
Dad knows he is old and fading. I know he is old and fading. There isn't a way around that. Perhaps the best thing I can do is just make things easier for him as long as I can. A little humor helps. And I am a bit surprised he smiles at my jokes. I know what I am doing, and HE knows what I am doing. He's not stupid, just old.
He is fading. He's walking worse than when he arrived here 10 weeks ago. He knows it is harder for him to even sign a check when I even write it out for him. He knows he is sleeping in the chair in front of the TV (but not how much more often than 2 months ago). He knows what being 90 means.
For the first time, he is examining the walker. He asked if I would carry it outside for him to use. "Would I" is almost insulting, but I know he doesn't mean it that way. What he means is "I need this, and I know you will help me. WHEN I finally ask you." I understand that.
I record some of his strangest statements, I take the few pictures I can. I'm only trying to record his last days for family. And hekp him the best I can.
I'm lucky in this. I lived alone. I was retired. I was well-off myself. I had free time. I was the obvious right place for Dad to be in his final years until he needs professional assistance. And that time is not yet.
That doesn't mean that Dad isn't often confused (and CONFUSING) a lot of times. Helping him pay his bills is maddening sometimes. But we get through it. That doesn't mean that I wouldn't rather live alone again. That doesn't mean that the cats wouldn't rather have just ME around. I don't have to shove at them with a foot in order to get them out of my way like Dad does. I mean, they really DO get in his way deliberately to seek attention. THEY don't know he can't just walk around them like I do.
Dad has his brighter moments. Today, he remembered the speed of light while I had an astronomy CD on, and I was surprised. Sometimes, he sees the flaws in political arguments of his favored side (Republican). Not often, but sometimes. When he asked how I "monitored the deck for failure" (which confused me at first), he also understood that my 16" joists (every other joist double thick) made it less likely that the deck would fail and he felt easier about walking out on the deck. I love those bright moments when he is still analytic... There are thoughts in the old brain yet. And I will keep engaging him in any areas he can still think about.
We continue, two aging guys living together as long as I can manage it... Him seeing his past in me, and me seeing my future in him.
I don't mean that getting very old and staring death in the face is funny, but there are small things he can accept when I make light of them.
He falls, and I say that I set the gravity meter wrong again. When he struggles to sign his name on a check, I tell him I gave him the trick pen again. When the cats get in the way of his feet, I say they just want him on the floor so he can give them scritchies. When he sees his annuity check on the monthly bank statement, sometimes I ask him how long he thinks I can get away with it going in there after the Caddies take him to that great golf course in the sky.
Dad knows he is old and fading. I know he is old and fading. There isn't a way around that. Perhaps the best thing I can do is just make things easier for him as long as I can. A little humor helps. And I am a bit surprised he smiles at my jokes. I know what I am doing, and HE knows what I am doing. He's not stupid, just old.
He is fading. He's walking worse than when he arrived here 10 weeks ago. He knows it is harder for him to even sign a check when I even write it out for him. He knows he is sleeping in the chair in front of the TV (but not how much more often than 2 months ago). He knows what being 90 means.
For the first time, he is examining the walker. He asked if I would carry it outside for him to use. "Would I" is almost insulting, but I know he doesn't mean it that way. What he means is "I need this, and I know you will help me. WHEN I finally ask you." I understand that.
I record some of his strangest statements, I take the few pictures I can. I'm only trying to record his last days for family. And hekp him the best I can.
I'm lucky in this. I lived alone. I was retired. I was well-off myself. I had free time. I was the obvious right place for Dad to be in his final years until he needs professional assistance. And that time is not yet.
That doesn't mean that Dad isn't often confused (and CONFUSING) a lot of times. Helping him pay his bills is maddening sometimes. But we get through it. That doesn't mean that I wouldn't rather live alone again. That doesn't mean that the cats wouldn't rather have just ME around. I don't have to shove at them with a foot in order to get them out of my way like Dad does. I mean, they really DO get in his way deliberately to seek attention. THEY don't know he can't just walk around them like I do.
Dad has his brighter moments. Today, he remembered the speed of light while I had an astronomy CD on, and I was surprised. Sometimes, he sees the flaws in political arguments of his favored side (Republican). Not often, but sometimes. When he asked how I "monitored the deck for failure" (which confused me at first), he also understood that my 16" joists (every other joist double thick) made it less likely that the deck would fail and he felt easier about walking out on the deck. I love those bright moments when he is still analytic... There are thoughts in the old brain yet. And I will keep engaging him in any areas he can still think about.
We continue, two aging guys living together as long as I can manage it... Him seeing his past in me, and me seeing my future in him.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Frustrated!
I just spent 2 hours online with Verizon agents trying to find a simple device that would help my 90 year old dad change TV FIOS channels, with no success.
There SHOULD be a simple device with big easy buttons that will let Dad change channels. All it has to be is a number pad with big buttons and with a “YES” button. Do you know of any such device?
Even the few BIG BUTTON remotes I found have too many buttons on them. Dad can't handle that. He needs something that only has 0-9 and "YES".
Mark
There SHOULD be a simple device with big easy buttons that will let Dad change channels. All it has to be is a number pad with big buttons and with a “YES” button. Do you know of any such device?
Even the few BIG BUTTON remotes I found have too many buttons on them. Dad can't handle that. He needs something that only has 0-9 and "YES".
Mark
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Living With Dad, 13
The good news... Dad thought to ask about his tax forms.
The bad news, he thinks he has to add Maryland forms this year because he moved in with me this year, and he is looking around his duffel bags for 2012 forms. Why does he have to ask my these difficult questions while I am trying to prepare dinner?
More good news... He took out the walker and looked it over carefuly.
The bad news... He wonders how much he could get selling it.
Good news, he thinks he might need to try using the walker. Never mind that he thought of selling it.
You know, its a good thing I have a base in sci-fi. Where strange things happen. I feel oddly well-equipped for surprises.
Aside from all that, Dad sleeps in the chair in front of the TV a lot more than he realizes. More than when he first arrived here too. He probably sleeps in bed more than he thinks he does. He says he doesn't sleep at night (and I have no way of telling), but he doesn't know that he sleeps during the day. So maybe he sleeps a lot at night and never knows.
He says he gets up many times at night. But, quite frankly, I would know. The hall floorboards squeak. I've lived alone so long that any little sound in the house registers on me. I know when the cats walk into the room. Sometimes he is so soundly asleep and quiet for hours that I go to his door and listen for him breathing.
Maybe one night, he won't be...
This is all entirely weird to me. I still can't quite get used to the idea of someone else living in the house all the time. Just having someone else in the house is strange enough, but being responsible for that person is "strange squared".
The bad news, he thinks he has to add Maryland forms this year because he moved in with me this year, and he is looking around his duffel bags for 2012 forms. Why does he have to ask my these difficult questions while I am trying to prepare dinner?
More good news... He took out the walker and looked it over carefuly.
The bad news... He wonders how much he could get selling it.
Good news, he thinks he might need to try using the walker. Never mind that he thought of selling it.
You know, its a good thing I have a base in sci-fi. Where strange things happen. I feel oddly well-equipped for surprises.
Aside from all that, Dad sleeps in the chair in front of the TV a lot more than he realizes. More than when he first arrived here too. He probably sleeps in bed more than he thinks he does. He says he doesn't sleep at night (and I have no way of telling), but he doesn't know that he sleeps during the day. So maybe he sleeps a lot at night and never knows.
He says he gets up many times at night. But, quite frankly, I would know. The hall floorboards squeak. I've lived alone so long that any little sound in the house registers on me. I know when the cats walk into the room. Sometimes he is so soundly asleep and quiet for hours that I go to his door and listen for him breathing.
Maybe one night, he won't be...
This is all entirely weird to me. I still can't quite get used to the idea of someone else living in the house all the time. Just having someone else in the house is strange enough, but being responsible for that person is "strange squared".
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Living With Dad, 12
Dad keeps complaining that he can't sleep at night. I find that hard to believe. He probably doesn't realize how much he sleeps. He falls asleep in the chair in front of the TV a dozen times a day (that I notice) for about 20 minutes at a time. So he probably sleeps more in bed than he realizes.
His awareness of sleeping is iffy. He often denies it when I've been right there seeing him wake up. It's hard to miss. The downward angle of the head, the non-responsiveness to my walking around him, etc.
He responds to what I assume are dreams as if reality. He will suddenly wake up and go "answer" the door, or the telephone. Or he will suddenly ask what I asked for help with (when I was just sitting quietly.
He may be reverting to his childcare years, too. He will suddenly ask toward the end of a meal if I have had enough to eat. At the end of a recent dinner, he asked if I needed butter. At least he hasn't asked me if I need to go to the bathroom...
He is having trouble not falling down when he walks (fell twice this week). He has a walker and a roller, but I can't get him to use those yet. He doesn't hurt himself (well, maybe it is more of a collapse to the floor than a real fall), but I'm going to have to insist soon. My plan is to get him to use them for brief outside walks first, then back and forth exercise hallway walks in the house, then finally for everytime use. I understand that the walker represents another loss of ability that he resents, so I don't want to just say "every time, NOW"! It wouldn't work.
At least he maintains a healthy appetite. And nutritionally, he is probably better off than anytime before in his life. I don't say that lightly. HIS Mom was a very good cook and MY Mom was a good cook, but neither of them had any idea of "balanced meals" (his idea of properly-cooked vegetables are "boiled to death". Gramma might have made GREAT chicken and dumplings, but that doesn't make a balanced meal. Mom provided vegetables with each meal, but that's where his idea of "boiled to death" vegetables came from. Heck, I never knew veggies could be cooked less than "mushable" until I went off to college and started to learn to cook for myself and discovered "steaming".
So, for the last 2 months, Dad has been getting a lunch sandwich that has lots on lettuce and some onion along with the meat (and he LIKES them). For dinner, there is some fresh meat (usually baked or braised), a tossed salad, a potato (he insists), a green veggie and a yellow/orange veggie. He always says it is "too much" but he eats it all. I am going to try reds, like beets, next. One change at a time...
He was basically just eating hotdogs, frozen fish, bread, and ice cream before I got him up here with me. Easy to prepare in the M/V.
Still, I know I'm just sticking a finger in the dike. Things will get worse. He will REALLY start falling, will lose appetite, REALLY not sleep (or sleep much of the day), have routine audio and visual hallucinations. His conversation already makes little sense SOMETIMES, one day it will make no sense MOST of the time...
A part of me wants to observe this carefully so that I have a better understanding of what is to come for me. But I'm not sure how useful such knowledge would be. When that time comes, I won't remember these days.
Que sera, sera...
His awareness of sleeping is iffy. He often denies it when I've been right there seeing him wake up. It's hard to miss. The downward angle of the head, the non-responsiveness to my walking around him, etc.
He responds to what I assume are dreams as if reality. He will suddenly wake up and go "answer" the door, or the telephone. Or he will suddenly ask what I asked for help with (when I was just sitting quietly.
He may be reverting to his childcare years, too. He will suddenly ask toward the end of a meal if I have had enough to eat. At the end of a recent dinner, he asked if I needed butter. At least he hasn't asked me if I need to go to the bathroom...
He is having trouble not falling down when he walks (fell twice this week). He has a walker and a roller, but I can't get him to use those yet. He doesn't hurt himself (well, maybe it is more of a collapse to the floor than a real fall), but I'm going to have to insist soon. My plan is to get him to use them for brief outside walks first, then back and forth exercise hallway walks in the house, then finally for everytime use. I understand that the walker represents another loss of ability that he resents, so I don't want to just say "every time, NOW"! It wouldn't work.
At least he maintains a healthy appetite. And nutritionally, he is probably better off than anytime before in his life. I don't say that lightly. HIS Mom was a very good cook and MY Mom was a good cook, but neither of them had any idea of "balanced meals" (his idea of properly-cooked vegetables are "boiled to death". Gramma might have made GREAT chicken and dumplings, but that doesn't make a balanced meal. Mom provided vegetables with each meal, but that's where his idea of "boiled to death" vegetables came from. Heck, I never knew veggies could be cooked less than "mushable" until I went off to college and started to learn to cook for myself and discovered "steaming".
So, for the last 2 months, Dad has been getting a lunch sandwich that has lots on lettuce and some onion along with the meat (and he LIKES them). For dinner, there is some fresh meat (usually baked or braised), a tossed salad, a potato (he insists), a green veggie and a yellow/orange veggie. He always says it is "too much" but he eats it all. I am going to try reds, like beets, next. One change at a time...
He was basically just eating hotdogs, frozen fish, bread, and ice cream before I got him up here with me. Easy to prepare in the M/V.
Still, I know I'm just sticking a finger in the dike. Things will get worse. He will REALLY start falling, will lose appetite, REALLY not sleep (or sleep much of the day), have routine audio and visual hallucinations. His conversation already makes little sense SOMETIMES, one day it will make no sense MOST of the time...
A part of me wants to observe this carefully so that I have a better understanding of what is to come for me. But I'm not sure how useful such knowledge would be. When that time comes, I won't remember these days.
Que sera, sera...
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Living With Dad, 11
Mail time is ambiguous here. Mail addressed to Dad keeps him occupied for an hour. But afterwards, it keeps ME occupied for a couple hours explaining it to him. Most of his mail is irrelevant (monthly investment statements, some is true junk, but some is important. I won't filter his mail [well, I trash some donation requests that hit him up for more money every month just because he gave them money the previous month; he thinks the requests from the fire and police departments are "bills" and they are taking advantage of his confusion].
But it's the legitimate documents that cause the hardest problems. Monthly bank statements, investment statements, actual bills for services to the previous FL house... It can take an hour per bank statement, a half hour to pay a single bill, and something like a property tax bill is good for a day (because he wants to ask really odd questions that have obvious answers to ME but he doesn't understand).
Dad has resigned himself to accepting my "novel idea" of filing folders by subject ("water". "electric", "property tax", etc), bank names, investment company names, property locations, mainly because I simply went and DID IT one weekend. He still doesn't understand it, but then, he can't recall the names of his electric or water company, so generic is the only choice...
So I've taken over the organization of his records. I had little choice. He had them all by month (sort of) and couldn't find anything. When he first had his duffel bag, briefcase, and two fat folders of documents, I asked him to find his birth certificate, It took him 2 hours. Now there is a file for that. And of course, files for about everything else.
Today was the 4th or 5th time I've shown him the file folders I made "for the first time" to his mind. I'm getting used to the idea that some things are new to him every time I mention them. Well, maybe I should say "getting resigned to the idea". I'm still always surprised by what he forgets from even one day to the next.
I do want readers to understand that I do not take this lightly. Sometimes with a bit of tolerant humor (beats crying out loud), but never "lightly". I understand that Dad's present is my future... It doesn't look like a lot of fun. Mine may be worse. Dad has me (and 2 other children and some grandchildren. I don't. When I, and my brother and sister, are Dad's age, they will have adult children but I will only have nieces and a nephew. Adults don't take care of Uncles like they do Parents. I better hope for some major medical or technological advances (like mind transplants to robots). Or I am going to have to just go to sleep on the deck some Winter night and not wake up.
Today's odd moments: Dad received junk mail from some investment firm, and assumed that meant he had an account with them. He couldn't figure out how to fill out the enrollment form (since he assumed he was already enrolled). I had to go through all the files, one by one, to show him there wasn't a file for that company. Then HE had to go through all the unsorted junk in his briefcase searching for a reference to that company.
THEN he decided maybe he should take cash out of savings and invest with them. So I had to spend a half hour reminding him that he just cashed in some decent CDs in order to have "cash on hand" for medical emergencies, so he shouldn't make new investments. Its tiring, and I can't get anything useful done around the house while he is fussing about this kind of stuff.
I should filter his mail, but I can't get myself to do that yet. He has a right to open and read it; it is my responsibility to guide him in deciding what to do. But I will probably have to do that soon. His memory for even simple daily things is going.
Multiple odd events: Tonight, he couldn't remember how to make a martini, his several nightly drinks for decades. I knew, though I never liked a martini in my life. His is equal shot gin and dry vermouth in a small juice glass, over ice. Doesn't seem like the James Bond martini, but whatever he likes is his business. I took a spoonful of one a week ago; it was HORRIBLE! I like my self-named Cavebear Slings (shot gin, shot Pomegranate Liquor, 2 shots real pomegranate juice over ice, fill with ginger ale). If you like fruit-oriented drinks, try it.
But he couldn't remember how to make the drink he has liked for 60 years!
Another odd event was that I put his tossed salad on the table (I always make a tossed salad). He asked if I had put gravy on the salad (yeah, he confuses words like gravy and dressing, and sometimes he says "sauce"). Anyone would look at it and know I hadn't, but he can't think of doing that these days. That's a bad sign. On the other hand, at least when he uses the wrong word for something, it is a related word. It would be worse if he had asked if I added "marbles" to the salad.
And I'm not relating these confusions on his part to make fun. It's serious. I'm writing about this so that I have a record of them. I need to understand where his memory is failing and where it is still functioning. Partly, I want a dated record of such confusions, but mostly so that I can understand where I can trust his memory and where I can't.
That matters because I don't have the best memory in the world. I never have. Do you recall math and science classes in high school where you mostly memorized formulas and diagrams to use them on tests and then mostly forgot them afterwards? I could never remember the formulas. I had to mostly figure them out each time from scratch and a few recollections. I got "Bs" in spite of that. I'm also not very good at remembering names or what I said in the previous email. I remember faces very well. I can pass someone and know that I "know" them. No name comes to mind though...
I bet my memory is worse than Dad's before I am his age. I see it coming...
So I am probably going to lose my memory sooner than Dad. That's scary, but probably inevitable.
But it's the legitimate documents that cause the hardest problems. Monthly bank statements, investment statements, actual bills for services to the previous FL house... It can take an hour per bank statement, a half hour to pay a single bill, and something like a property tax bill is good for a day (because he wants to ask really odd questions that have obvious answers to ME but he doesn't understand).
Dad has resigned himself to accepting my "novel idea" of filing folders by subject ("water". "electric", "property tax", etc), bank names, investment company names, property locations, mainly because I simply went and DID IT one weekend. He still doesn't understand it, but then, he can't recall the names of his electric or water company, so generic is the only choice...
So I've taken over the organization of his records. I had little choice. He had them all by month (sort of) and couldn't find anything. When he first had his duffel bag, briefcase, and two fat folders of documents, I asked him to find his birth certificate, It took him 2 hours. Now there is a file for that. And of course, files for about everything else.
Today was the 4th or 5th time I've shown him the file folders I made "for the first time" to his mind. I'm getting used to the idea that some things are new to him every time I mention them. Well, maybe I should say "getting resigned to the idea". I'm still always surprised by what he forgets from even one day to the next.
I do want readers to understand that I do not take this lightly. Sometimes with a bit of tolerant humor (beats crying out loud), but never "lightly". I understand that Dad's present is my future... It doesn't look like a lot of fun. Mine may be worse. Dad has me (and 2 other children and some grandchildren. I don't. When I, and my brother and sister, are Dad's age, they will have adult children but I will only have nieces and a nephew. Adults don't take care of Uncles like they do Parents. I better hope for some major medical or technological advances (like mind transplants to robots). Or I am going to have to just go to sleep on the deck some Winter night and not wake up.
Today's odd moments: Dad received junk mail from some investment firm, and assumed that meant he had an account with them. He couldn't figure out how to fill out the enrollment form (since he assumed he was already enrolled). I had to go through all the files, one by one, to show him there wasn't a file for that company. Then HE had to go through all the unsorted junk in his briefcase searching for a reference to that company.
THEN he decided maybe he should take cash out of savings and invest with them. So I had to spend a half hour reminding him that he just cashed in some decent CDs in order to have "cash on hand" for medical emergencies, so he shouldn't make new investments. Its tiring, and I can't get anything useful done around the house while he is fussing about this kind of stuff.
I should filter his mail, but I can't get myself to do that yet. He has a right to open and read it; it is my responsibility to guide him in deciding what to do. But I will probably have to do that soon. His memory for even simple daily things is going.
Multiple odd events: Tonight, he couldn't remember how to make a martini, his several nightly drinks for decades. I knew, though I never liked a martini in my life. His is equal shot gin and dry vermouth in a small juice glass, over ice. Doesn't seem like the James Bond martini, but whatever he likes is his business. I took a spoonful of one a week ago; it was HORRIBLE! I like my self-named Cavebear Slings (shot gin, shot Pomegranate Liquor, 2 shots real pomegranate juice over ice, fill with ginger ale). If you like fruit-oriented drinks, try it.
But he couldn't remember how to make the drink he has liked for 60 years!
Another odd event was that I put his tossed salad on the table (I always make a tossed salad). He asked if I had put gravy on the salad (yeah, he confuses words like gravy and dressing, and sometimes he says "sauce"). Anyone would look at it and know I hadn't, but he can't think of doing that these days. That's a bad sign. On the other hand, at least when he uses the wrong word for something, it is a related word. It would be worse if he had asked if I added "marbles" to the salad.
And I'm not relating these confusions on his part to make fun. It's serious. I'm writing about this so that I have a record of them. I need to understand where his memory is failing and where it is still functioning. Partly, I want a dated record of such confusions, but mostly so that I can understand where I can trust his memory and where I can't.
That matters because I don't have the best memory in the world. I never have. Do you recall math and science classes in high school where you mostly memorized formulas and diagrams to use them on tests and then mostly forgot them afterwards? I could never remember the formulas. I had to mostly figure them out each time from scratch and a few recollections. I got "Bs" in spite of that. I'm also not very good at remembering names or what I said in the previous email. I remember faces very well. I can pass someone and know that I "know" them. No name comes to mind though...
I bet my memory is worse than Dad's before I am his age. I see it coming...
So I am probably going to lose my memory sooner than Dad. That's scary, but probably inevitable.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
The Cat Blog Reaches 2,000 posts!
When I started the cat blog in August 2006, the few cat blogs I knew of were "old". As in, they had been blogging for a couple of years while I read in admiration. Well, after I retired in 2006, I saw a button on one cat blog that said "Click here to start a blog for free".
I clicked...
I didn't know how to write from my cats' point of view. At first, the fence was a wall, the glass deck door was a wall, the inside doors were walls, and the walls were walls. They weren't sure what to call the house, etc. I ended up "The Big Thing" only because I figured the cats weren't really sure what I was, but that I was BIG by comparison to them.
They slowly learned about the house and yard, but they never changed my name. That's OK, I always HAVE been "The Big Thing" to all the cats. It fits OK. I never quite felt like "Dad" to them. Its fine for other cats to have Mom or Dad, but I never thought that MINE thought I was their Dad.
I expect I am a bit of a mystery to them. A large rather clumsy stompy creature who has no furs worth mentioning, but who has nearly magical powers over food and litterboxes and doors to the outside.
I would love to know what they REALLY think (because they surely DO think). I don't mean they think like you and I do. There are things they will never quite be aware of, like their own mortality.
I am sometimes far too aware of theirs. Skeeter and LC started the blog, and it really didn't occur to me that they would die. Or at least, soon. I knew they were mortal, of course, but they were so healthy when I started the blog, it seemed they would be around a long time.
Skeeter died just over 2 years into blogging. It was a shock thinking back just the 2 years, but not when it happened. I knew he was dying for months. The vet told me he would be fine until he started to fall over. When he did, it was the saddest day of my life.
LC followed him in only 13 months. She was fine one night, and dead the next morning. The vet said it was a massive infection. I saw no signs of it.
LC was Skeeter's cat. Skeeter was mine. I have never had a "bad" cat, but Skeeter was special. He is my heart cat and always will be. I miss LC. She was the quiet kind of cat. Have you ever seen "The Man Who Planted Trees"? There was a dog there. Never fawning, friendly, always quiet in dignity. That was LC. She was never a lap cat, but in her last couple of days, she came up on my lap and napped there. Maybe she knew, maybe she didn't, but those were precious memories afterwards.
I have never been one to stay without cats. I don't mean, of course, that I want any to leave, but I have space in my live for several and there are so many needing space. I got Ayla shortly after Skeeter died...
All cats are good, but I had always wanted a female siamese and they are not available on most streetcorners. I looked up breeders and made a ridiculous offer. A ridiculous situation occurred. A breeder had a female too small to breed. I got Ayla for $100 because she wasn't good for breeding. But she was perfect for me.
The cost is meaningless. You spend more just in initial exams and shots. I don't actually pay any attention to initial cost anymore. Ayla was a joy. Except she kept going into heat after bein spayed (by the breeders vet). Once, then twice... For 2 years. Finally, she got an infection and MY vet found she had ladygarden parts still in there. Since then, she has been a wonderful kitty.
Iza came after Ayla and right after LC. Ayla couldn't be alone. Iza was sold as a registered siamese, but she is really a Tonkinese with siamese colors. Its obvious now that I've learned about Tonks. Iza is the stereotypical Tonk. Heavy-bodied, short-tailed, broad-chested, smudgy siamese colors, but also amazingly loyal, affectionate, and hard-playful. You should SEE her dedication to attacking toy mice!
But Ayla and Iza slowly got annoyed with each other. Not fights, but little hissy-fits, and the house was not RIGHT! I needed a cure.
It seems silly to say that because Skeeter was a calmer-down cat and he was an orange/white male cat, that another one would be the same. But I looked for one anyway. Everyone I found at cat shelters came in pairs (ONLY after I liked one of them). After that happened the third time, I ignored the shelters. I felt sorry for the cats, but what I DIDN'T want was 2 attached to each other. I needed one cat.
I found the one orange/white male cat with help from blog friends. He was promised to a family, but I convinced the owner I was the best place. When I went to pick him up, he was staring at me from the stairs. I sat down on the floor and folded my legs up, he came right down and settled on my lap.
I chose him somewhat, but HE really chose ME! The Lady was surprised, but I wasn't. I knew the moment I saw him, that he belonged with me. He was so perfect that I didn't even change his name! And coming from years of thinking hard about the right names for cats, that means something. He was indeed "Marley". He had the right name the moment I met him.
Ayla and Iza were named for characters in 'Clan of the Cave Bear" books, and I expected to name a male cat "Creb". But Marley was "Marley". Maybe there will be a Creb or Jondalar in the future, but not now. Marley is Marley, its in his genes.
And Marley has accepted the role I hoped for. He immediately came between Ayla and Iza in a calm laid-back way and the hissy-fits stopped immediately.
Its hard sometimes not to call him Skeeter. I forget. But when I do, I make sure to hold him and say Marley, Marley, Marley. I mostly remember, of course, but no one is perfect. Interestingly, that has only happened since Dad moved in. The last time Dad was here, Skeeter was here. And Dad makes me think of previous times. So at night, when Marley crawls onto the bed to nap in the early morning hours (where he sleeps in the other hours is a mystery - when I've gone looking, he just shows up awake and walking) I just keep saying "Marley, Marley, Marley" and he purrs lovingly in my arms or feet.
There will come a day when Marley goes over the Bridge. Probably 13, 14 years from now, but there WILL come that day. I wonder what Skeeter and Marley will say about me between themselves? Taht I couldn't tell them apart? Or that I thought they were BOTH the best cats ever and they were so alike that I loved them both the same at the end?
I don't know now. Ayla, Iza, and Marley are ALL wonderful cats in their own special ways. Ayla is sweet like a sugarplum. Marley is kindest most tolerant cat I've ever known. Iza is so ME-oriented it is amazing.
I loved Ralph, Sport, Ballou, Mischief, and Tinkerbelle before these. Am I just forgetting how much I loved them in favor of the current ones as the years have gone by? If I could have Ballou back again for a week, would I think, wow, "she's the best"?
I'll never know. I just wish I could have ALL of them back again. No contest, no favorites. All those old grey tabbies against all the newer fancier cats. But I DO know I would like them all back on my lap again in turns so that I could tell each one again how much I loved them. And how much they enriched my life...
I clicked...
I didn't know how to write from my cats' point of view. At first, the fence was a wall, the glass deck door was a wall, the inside doors were walls, and the walls were walls. They weren't sure what to call the house, etc. I ended up "The Big Thing" only because I figured the cats weren't really sure what I was, but that I was BIG by comparison to them.
They slowly learned about the house and yard, but they never changed my name. That's OK, I always HAVE been "The Big Thing" to all the cats. It fits OK. I never quite felt like "Dad" to them. Its fine for other cats to have Mom or Dad, but I never thought that MINE thought I was their Dad.
I expect I am a bit of a mystery to them. A large rather clumsy stompy creature who has no furs worth mentioning, but who has nearly magical powers over food and litterboxes and doors to the outside.
I would love to know what they REALLY think (because they surely DO think). I don't mean they think like you and I do. There are things they will never quite be aware of, like their own mortality.
I am sometimes far too aware of theirs. Skeeter and LC started the blog, and it really didn't occur to me that they would die. Or at least, soon. I knew they were mortal, of course, but they were so healthy when I started the blog, it seemed they would be around a long time.
Skeeter died just over 2 years into blogging. It was a shock thinking back just the 2 years, but not when it happened. I knew he was dying for months. The vet told me he would be fine until he started to fall over. When he did, it was the saddest day of my life.
LC followed him in only 13 months. She was fine one night, and dead the next morning. The vet said it was a massive infection. I saw no signs of it.
LC was Skeeter's cat. Skeeter was mine. I have never had a "bad" cat, but Skeeter was special. He is my heart cat and always will be. I miss LC. She was the quiet kind of cat. Have you ever seen "The Man Who Planted Trees"? There was a dog there. Never fawning, friendly, always quiet in dignity. That was LC. She was never a lap cat, but in her last couple of days, she came up on my lap and napped there. Maybe she knew, maybe she didn't, but those were precious memories afterwards.
I have never been one to stay without cats. I don't mean, of course, that I want any to leave, but I have space in my live for several and there are so many needing space. I got Ayla shortly after Skeeter died...
All cats are good, but I had always wanted a female siamese and they are not available on most streetcorners. I looked up breeders and made a ridiculous offer. A ridiculous situation occurred. A breeder had a female too small to breed. I got Ayla for $100 because she wasn't good for breeding. But she was perfect for me.
The cost is meaningless. You spend more just in initial exams and shots. I don't actually pay any attention to initial cost anymore. Ayla was a joy. Except she kept going into heat after bein spayed (by the breeders vet). Once, then twice... For 2 years. Finally, she got an infection and MY vet found she had ladygarden parts still in there. Since then, she has been a wonderful kitty.
Iza came after Ayla and right after LC. Ayla couldn't be alone. Iza was sold as a registered siamese, but she is really a Tonkinese with siamese colors. Its obvious now that I've learned about Tonks. Iza is the stereotypical Tonk. Heavy-bodied, short-tailed, broad-chested, smudgy siamese colors, but also amazingly loyal, affectionate, and hard-playful. You should SEE her dedication to attacking toy mice!
But Ayla and Iza slowly got annoyed with each other. Not fights, but little hissy-fits, and the house was not RIGHT! I needed a cure.
It seems silly to say that because Skeeter was a calmer-down cat and he was an orange/white male cat, that another one would be the same. But I looked for one anyway. Everyone I found at cat shelters came in pairs (ONLY after I liked one of them). After that happened the third time, I ignored the shelters. I felt sorry for the cats, but what I DIDN'T want was 2 attached to each other. I needed one cat.
I found the one orange/white male cat with help from blog friends. He was promised to a family, but I convinced the owner I was the best place. When I went to pick him up, he was staring at me from the stairs. I sat down on the floor and folded my legs up, he came right down and settled on my lap.
I chose him somewhat, but HE really chose ME! The Lady was surprised, but I wasn't. I knew the moment I saw him, that he belonged with me. He was so perfect that I didn't even change his name! And coming from years of thinking hard about the right names for cats, that means something. He was indeed "Marley". He had the right name the moment I met him.
Ayla and Iza were named for characters in 'Clan of the Cave Bear" books, and I expected to name a male cat "Creb". But Marley was "Marley". Maybe there will be a Creb or Jondalar in the future, but not now. Marley is Marley, its in his genes.
And Marley has accepted the role I hoped for. He immediately came between Ayla and Iza in a calm laid-back way and the hissy-fits stopped immediately.
Its hard sometimes not to call him Skeeter. I forget. But when I do, I make sure to hold him and say Marley, Marley, Marley. I mostly remember, of course, but no one is perfect. Interestingly, that has only happened since Dad moved in. The last time Dad was here, Skeeter was here. And Dad makes me think of previous times. So at night, when Marley crawls onto the bed to nap in the early morning hours (where he sleeps in the other hours is a mystery - when I've gone looking, he just shows up awake and walking) I just keep saying "Marley, Marley, Marley" and he purrs lovingly in my arms or feet.
There will come a day when Marley goes over the Bridge. Probably 13, 14 years from now, but there WILL come that day. I wonder what Skeeter and Marley will say about me between themselves? Taht I couldn't tell them apart? Or that I thought they were BOTH the best cats ever and they were so alike that I loved them both the same at the end?
I don't know now. Ayla, Iza, and Marley are ALL wonderful cats in their own special ways. Ayla is sweet like a sugarplum. Marley is kindest most tolerant cat I've ever known. Iza is so ME-oriented it is amazing.
I loved Ralph, Sport, Ballou, Mischief, and Tinkerbelle before these. Am I just forgetting how much I loved them in favor of the current ones as the years have gone by? If I could have Ballou back again for a week, would I think, wow, "she's the best"?
I'll never know. I just wish I could have ALL of them back again. No contest, no favorites. All those old grey tabbies against all the newer fancier cats. But I DO know I would like them all back on my lap again in turns so that I could tell each one again how much I loved them. And how much they enriched my life...
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Living With Dad, 10
I wonder how long it takes before I realize that asking Dad to make simple decisions is just wrong? I really try to allow him to make as many decisions as he wants to. He has preferences. I eat my dinner in several bowls, Dad likes his food all in one large plate. I like to eat dinner watching TV, he likes to eat at a "proper table". So I always try to ask him what he whats.
It never occurred to me that he doesn't WANT to (or really can't) make decisions. I thought I was being considerate; I was making things hard for him.
He doesn't want to make decisions, and I have had a hard time grasping that. I thought "deciding" small things for himself would be the last thing he would give up. I was wrong...
Today, I was making the lunch sandwiches and Dad asked if he could help. Of course I said "yes"! Anything to make him feel useful (and, yes, I recognize a patronization about that). But, for almost 2 months, we have had sandwiches for lunch on medium size plates. One half a sandwich, with some pickle, carrot sticks, pickle, etc. So Dad decided to get out the plates. Coffee saucers... Then said "How will we fit the potato chips on this"? I said they wouldn't fit, so he brought out bowls. I mentioned that he likes plates for his sandwich.
I should have shut up. He got upset and said "I don't know what to use, I'll use whatever you tell me to use"!!!
He was right. He is depending on me now to make even simple decisions for him. And I didn't quite realize to what degree he was expecting/needing that.
He's my Dad. I want him to make decisions for himself even if they are very minor decisions. I guess I had in mind that it was GOOD for him to make some decisions. Thinking back over the past few weeks, I realize he doesn't WANT me to ask him whether he wants green beans or broccoli with his dinner. Even that decision is too challenging.
It's ironic. I've lived my life making my own decisions, and deliberately NOT trying to influence other peoples' decisions (except in a few ways like politics I'll avoid here). And now I'm being asked to do just that.
I mean all this just as an example. I could have used towels in the bathroom, or which shoes to wear.
I guess I have to learn to JUST DO IT around Dad and trust to my judgement...
It never occurred to me that he doesn't WANT to (or really can't) make decisions. I thought I was being considerate; I was making things hard for him.
He doesn't want to make decisions, and I have had a hard time grasping that. I thought "deciding" small things for himself would be the last thing he would give up. I was wrong...
Today, I was making the lunch sandwiches and Dad asked if he could help. Of course I said "yes"! Anything to make him feel useful (and, yes, I recognize a patronization about that). But, for almost 2 months, we have had sandwiches for lunch on medium size plates. One half a sandwich, with some pickle, carrot sticks, pickle, etc. So Dad decided to get out the plates. Coffee saucers... Then said "How will we fit the potato chips on this"? I said they wouldn't fit, so he brought out bowls. I mentioned that he likes plates for his sandwich.
I should have shut up. He got upset and said "I don't know what to use, I'll use whatever you tell me to use"!!!
He was right. He is depending on me now to make even simple decisions for him. And I didn't quite realize to what degree he was expecting/needing that.
He's my Dad. I want him to make decisions for himself even if they are very minor decisions. I guess I had in mind that it was GOOD for him to make some decisions. Thinking back over the past few weeks, I realize he doesn't WANT me to ask him whether he wants green beans or broccoli with his dinner. Even that decision is too challenging.
It's ironic. I've lived my life making my own decisions, and deliberately NOT trying to influence other peoples' decisions (except in a few ways like politics I'll avoid here). And now I'm being asked to do just that.
I mean all this just as an example. I could have used towels in the bathroom, or which shoes to wear.
I guess I have to learn to JUST DO IT around Dad and trust to my judgement...
Thursday, July 5, 2012
I Wonder...
I am not disrespecting my Dad or his aged condition. But I have little experience with how memory fades as we age. So I wonder what Dad is thinking most days. Are his internal thoughts clear and his spoken statements unclear, or is he expressing the confusion in his mind accurately?
It matters. If his internal thoughts are clear, then he knows what I say, what has happened in the recent past, and that he can't express those. That would be horrible. There are SOME signs of that, like when he is searching for a word and he KNOWS he isn't getting the right one or recognizes the names of investment companies when he receives mail.
But most of the time, it seems that he truly does not remember the recent past. His 2 week stay at a rehab hospital in May is nearly a blank one. He forgets events just passed. He often cannot remember if he recently ate a meal.
Last night, we watched fireworks on TV. Then a repeat of fireworks from 2005, and then 2009. A mere half hour later, he decided to go to bed and asked me if I was going to stay to see if they showed fireworks eventually...
Some of the time, he makes sense in what he says. He can discuss a few political events, some basic science remains, and he can mention basic gardening lore from 30 years ago (though no longer accurate). But at least then he IS offerring the assumed correct practices from a time in his past.
He knows what he likes to eat. When he moved here, I experimented with many basic meats and veggies. He likes almost anything, and when he says that, I have the evidence in that he enjoyed the meal. Yet...
Tonight, I cooked sausages. Dad likes chicken, sausages and potatoes mostly. Of course, I add a tossed salad, and a green and yellow/orange veggie. He eats them dutifully. I've cooked sausages about twice a week for the past 6 weeks. Smothered in onions, or with tomato sauce, or with mustard, or with bell peppers. He likes the bell peppers the best.
So imagine my surprise when he looked at a sausage yesterday and asked what it was. I thought he meant the add-ons. No, he didn't know what a SAUSAGE was. Sorry, that confused me for a bit. I actually had to explain what sausage was!!! He was like, "huh, that's weird". He enjoyed it, but his lack of recall of the basic idea of "sausage" really threw me.
I should have been prepared for that. The meal before, he looked at a baked chicken thigh and asked if that was "meat". And he asked if the corn-on-the-cob, that we basically have every other day or so was "cooked". Tonight, he asked if the chili was "hot". Fortunately, I can usually guess correctly about unfinished sentences or ambiguous words. Asking if he meant "spicy", he replied "yes, hot". I assured him I don't make my chili really spicy. But I have to guess a lot.
I don't know how he feels when I comlpete paused sentences or suggest words, but I THINK he is relieved when I guess right.
I'm struggling to understand his thinking process these days. I mean that I understand he isn't thinking straight, but I'm not understanding when and where he "loses it". He catches me by surprise so often. One minute he makes general sense, the next minute makes NO sense. Or he is good for a whole day an the next day he forgets where he is, who I am, and why he is HERE.
I'm told the daily confusion around sunset is called "Sundowner Syndrome", and Dad sure suffers from it. After dinner, he says the oddest things. I'm only now routinely thinking of the time of day when he gets weird.
On good days, he can recall his investment companies. On bad days, he is completely baffled by a simple statement from one of his banks. And the good days include when he isn't vaguely paranoid about "banks closing down to steal his money".
And then there are the Gold Commercials... They use scare tactics, and Dad is starting to respond to that. I tried to tell him that if the Gold Companies are suddenly selling gold, it means they (the professionals) figure the value of gold will go down. But Dad thinks they are doing him a favor by offerring to sell gold! I researched it and printed out a 30 year chart of the value of gold. It goes up and down. It took me 2 hours to convince Dad not to shift a lot of money to gold.
He wants to help prepare dinner, and I appreciate his desire to help; he's BORED. But he stops in place so often that I can't work around him very well. Small humor here: Dad gets annoyed when Iza stands on the floor in his way and he shouts "Move you damn cat" (which he says more friendly than it sounds). But I can't say the same to him when he freezes in a doorway and I have to walk the long way around the rooms to get to what I need to do. AND that's when he doesn't call the cats "dogs".
Well at least he uses names of mammals. When he starts referring to the cats as "spinach" I'll worry more. Poor Iza, she is used to standing in front of me to get my attention. I know to walk around her when I'm really busy, but Dad can't. Changing direction is difficult for him. He can't lean on one leg and lift the other in order to turn very well.
Dad's documents are the worst for him and me (and easiest for me if he didn't see them). I've probably mentioned that before, so I won't go into details again.
And I haven't even started on his 2011 taxes yet. Fortunately, he has an extension to October. I thank his 2011 tax preparers for the extension. When they saw that Dad stopped responding to their requests for documents, they understood what was happening and filed an extension request for him.
I see a time coming when I can't help him any more, and it may be sooner than I wish. Dad is getting worse weekly. When it is daily, I'll have to consider the unmentionable (Assisted Living Facility). Which I can mention here, but not to Dad.
ONE SAFELY HUMOROUS EVENT: Today Dad got his first piece of direct junk mail at this new address (for him). OK, Dad considered the offer seriously (and I explained why it wasn't a good offer), but I am still trying to figure out HOW Direct TV got his address here! We haven't listed his address in any government or public documents. We have done change of address forms for his banks and investment companies and public utilities. Do such companies automatically sell "change of address" requests to advertisers? Do they buy such information from the Post Office? If so, things have gotten worse than I realized. In spite of that, it was still rather funny to see the new address on junk mail...
It matters. If his internal thoughts are clear, then he knows what I say, what has happened in the recent past, and that he can't express those. That would be horrible. There are SOME signs of that, like when he is searching for a word and he KNOWS he isn't getting the right one or recognizes the names of investment companies when he receives mail.
But most of the time, it seems that he truly does not remember the recent past. His 2 week stay at a rehab hospital in May is nearly a blank one. He forgets events just passed. He often cannot remember if he recently ate a meal.
Last night, we watched fireworks on TV. Then a repeat of fireworks from 2005, and then 2009. A mere half hour later, he decided to go to bed and asked me if I was going to stay to see if they showed fireworks eventually...
Some of the time, he makes sense in what he says. He can discuss a few political events, some basic science remains, and he can mention basic gardening lore from 30 years ago (though no longer accurate). But at least then he IS offerring the assumed correct practices from a time in his past.
He knows what he likes to eat. When he moved here, I experimented with many basic meats and veggies. He likes almost anything, and when he says that, I have the evidence in that he enjoyed the meal. Yet...
Tonight, I cooked sausages. Dad likes chicken, sausages and potatoes mostly. Of course, I add a tossed salad, and a green and yellow/orange veggie. He eats them dutifully. I've cooked sausages about twice a week for the past 6 weeks. Smothered in onions, or with tomato sauce, or with mustard, or with bell peppers. He likes the bell peppers the best.
So imagine my surprise when he looked at a sausage yesterday and asked what it was. I thought he meant the add-ons. No, he didn't know what a SAUSAGE was. Sorry, that confused me for a bit. I actually had to explain what sausage was!!! He was like, "huh, that's weird". He enjoyed it, but his lack of recall of the basic idea of "sausage" really threw me.
I should have been prepared for that. The meal before, he looked at a baked chicken thigh and asked if that was "meat". And he asked if the corn-on-the-cob, that we basically have every other day or so was "cooked". Tonight, he asked if the chili was "hot". Fortunately, I can usually guess correctly about unfinished sentences or ambiguous words. Asking if he meant "spicy", he replied "yes, hot". I assured him I don't make my chili really spicy. But I have to guess a lot.
I don't know how he feels when I comlpete paused sentences or suggest words, but I THINK he is relieved when I guess right.
I'm struggling to understand his thinking process these days. I mean that I understand he isn't thinking straight, but I'm not understanding when and where he "loses it". He catches me by surprise so often. One minute he makes general sense, the next minute makes NO sense. Or he is good for a whole day an the next day he forgets where he is, who I am, and why he is HERE.
I'm told the daily confusion around sunset is called "Sundowner Syndrome", and Dad sure suffers from it. After dinner, he says the oddest things. I'm only now routinely thinking of the time of day when he gets weird.
On good days, he can recall his investment companies. On bad days, he is completely baffled by a simple statement from one of his banks. And the good days include when he isn't vaguely paranoid about "banks closing down to steal his money".
And then there are the Gold Commercials... They use scare tactics, and Dad is starting to respond to that. I tried to tell him that if the Gold Companies are suddenly selling gold, it means they (the professionals) figure the value of gold will go down. But Dad thinks they are doing him a favor by offerring to sell gold! I researched it and printed out a 30 year chart of the value of gold. It goes up and down. It took me 2 hours to convince Dad not to shift a lot of money to gold.
He wants to help prepare dinner, and I appreciate his desire to help; he's BORED. But he stops in place so often that I can't work around him very well. Small humor here: Dad gets annoyed when Iza stands on the floor in his way and he shouts "Move you damn cat" (which he says more friendly than it sounds). But I can't say the same to him when he freezes in a doorway and I have to walk the long way around the rooms to get to what I need to do. AND that's when he doesn't call the cats "dogs".
Well at least he uses names of mammals. When he starts referring to the cats as "spinach" I'll worry more. Poor Iza, she is used to standing in front of me to get my attention. I know to walk around her when I'm really busy, but Dad can't. Changing direction is difficult for him. He can't lean on one leg and lift the other in order to turn very well.
Dad's documents are the worst for him and me (and easiest for me if he didn't see them). I've probably mentioned that before, so I won't go into details again.
And I haven't even started on his 2011 taxes yet. Fortunately, he has an extension to October. I thank his 2011 tax preparers for the extension. When they saw that Dad stopped responding to their requests for documents, they understood what was happening and filed an extension request for him.
I see a time coming when I can't help him any more, and it may be sooner than I wish. Dad is getting worse weekly. When it is daily, I'll have to consider the unmentionable (Assisted Living Facility). Which I can mention here, but not to Dad.
ONE SAFELY HUMOROUS EVENT: Today Dad got his first piece of direct junk mail at this new address (for him). OK, Dad considered the offer seriously (and I explained why it wasn't a good offer), but I am still trying to figure out HOW Direct TV got his address here! We haven't listed his address in any government or public documents. We have done change of address forms for his banks and investment companies and public utilities. Do such companies automatically sell "change of address" requests to advertisers? Do they buy such information from the Post Office? If so, things have gotten worse than I realized. In spite of that, it was still rather funny to see the new address on junk mail...
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Independence Day
I normally just observe it quietly, but I've been thinking about it more the past few years. Maybe its because I got my degree in Government and Politics and minored in History (mostly English history).
I could just put up a big US Flag .jpeg, but I want to say more than that this year.
The US exists because of England. We were a colony/colonies at first, but there were other colonies in North America from other European nations. It was the English system of laws that got the colonies established as they were, when other nations failed at that.
England (and eventually Great Britain) should be proud of its colonial offspring. Yes, some things went imperfectly, and there were dark moments in history. But England gave its colonies some special gifts. Like political organization, merchant classes, a basic concept of "rule of law", an economic middle class, and business.
Few European nations managed that (yes, the Dutch etc). But England had the combination of legal systems, economic systems, and social mobility that increased in what became the US. I'm not forgetting our Canadian friends, but my point is about the US today.
We owe England a lot. Yes there was the revolution, and the War of 1812 isn't a bright spot for anyone either. Even in our terribly uncivil Civil War there were doubts about our relations. But its been good, nay, "better than good" since then. It would be hard to think of any 2 nations better friends over a century+ (and Australia and Canada).
A few centuries from now, history will tell of the time of Great Britain, the US, Canada, and Australia as perhaps the greatest peacetime and wartime allies advancing democracy around the world. It might be called Pax Americana, but it all came from England originally.
So I just want to say Thank You Britain on THIS day because I know where it all started... Britain, your children owe you.
But, of course, I HAVE to show the flag, LOL...
I could just put up a big US Flag .jpeg, but I want to say more than that this year.
The US exists because of England. We were a colony/colonies at first, but there were other colonies in North America from other European nations. It was the English system of laws that got the colonies established as they were, when other nations failed at that.
England (and eventually Great Britain) should be proud of its colonial offspring. Yes, some things went imperfectly, and there were dark moments in history. But England gave its colonies some special gifts. Like political organization, merchant classes, a basic concept of "rule of law", an economic middle class, and business.
Few European nations managed that (yes, the Dutch etc). But England had the combination of legal systems, economic systems, and social mobility that increased in what became the US. I'm not forgetting our Canadian friends, but my point is about the US today.
We owe England a lot. Yes there was the revolution, and the War of 1812 isn't a bright spot for anyone either. Even in our terribly uncivil Civil War there were doubts about our relations. But its been good, nay, "better than good" since then. It would be hard to think of any 2 nations better friends over a century+ (and Australia and Canada).
A few centuries from now, history will tell of the time of Great Britain, the US, Canada, and Australia as perhaps the greatest peacetime and wartime allies advancing democracy around the world. It might be called Pax Americana, but it all came from England originally.
So I just want to say Thank You Britain on THIS day because I know where it all started... Britain, your children owe you.
But, of course, I HAVE to show the flag, LOL...
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Storms, 2
Oh well, I meant to add pictures to the post yesterday. But I got up late and the pre-saved post was alreaddy there. Then I needed to make lunch for Dad and me, feed the cats, get the mail, etc...
So here are the pictures...
I had almost no damage. This fallen branch was annoying because I had to cut it to pieces to move it off my hosta bed.
But it sure wasn't serious. I'm just glad that huge tree on the west of the house stayed tall again. I probably will for another 50 years. But it may fall next time. You never know...
The branch was only twice the width of my shoe.
Ans it only fell 20'. Here's where it broke off. Its a weird black maple tree. It grows from my neighbor's yard, but almost entirely over my yard. The previous neighbors refused to pay to have it cut down (or even trimmed). The new neighbors are well, "new" and I don't know them yet.
But THAT tree isn't threatening anything, so I will just let it be for now.
This picture is sort of a joke. I deliberately put the thermometer in the full afternoon sun. I suppose the temperature is accurate for full afternoon sun. On the other hand, I WAS out there in the full sun, and so were the plants. I was watering the plants after cutting the fallen tree branch to manageable pieces. I drank a quart of Gatorade while outside. And plain water when I went inside!
My favorite HOT joke: "It was SO hot, I saw a starving coyote chasing a terrified rabbit, and they were both walking"...
But seriously, we don't have month-long droughts here in JUNE. July and August are the dry months here. The unshaded lawn grass is already dormant and crunchy. What are July and August going to be like? I do not routinely water the lawn. The grasses here go dormant in late Summer and the Fall rains bring them back to green until the next July. But I may have to water the lawn this year. Even the weeds in the lawn are dying, and I don't think the turf grass is as hardy as the weeds.
I've never seen it like this in early July.
So here are the pictures...
I had almost no damage. This fallen branch was annoying because I had to cut it to pieces to move it off my hosta bed.
This picture is sort of a joke. I deliberately put the thermometer in the full afternoon sun. I suppose the temperature is accurate for full afternoon sun. On the other hand, I WAS out there in the full sun, and so were the plants. I was watering the plants after cutting the fallen tree branch to manageable pieces. I drank a quart of Gatorade while outside. And plain water when I went inside!
But seriously, we don't have month-long droughts here in JUNE. July and August are the dry months here. The unshaded lawn grass is already dormant and crunchy. What are July and August going to be like? I do not routinely water the lawn. The grasses here go dormant in late Summer and the Fall rains bring them back to green until the next July. But I may have to water the lawn this year. Even the weeds in the lawn are dying, and I don't think the turf grass is as hardy as the weeds.
I've never seen it like this in early July.
Monday, July 2, 2012
STORMS!
Well, we have had some surprising stormy conditions here lately! The first was Friday night. For one thing, I didn't know it was coming. We don't watch much live TV here (well, Fox and Golf channels, but they aren't big on local weather). It was eerie. Around 11 pm, Dad commented on how dead still it was outside. And just then, "the train came through the station".
The wind suddenly whipped up to near hurricane level, the rain started, and the lights began flickering. I'm not too worried about the lights because we have underground cables here; a power outage is rare and usually lasts only a few seconds to a few minutes. Its been years since it was a whole hour. I LOVE our underground cables!
But the rain started driving against the front windows higher up and harder than I can recall seeing even in the few hurricanes we get in MD. Naturally, I had just noticed this past week that my back rain gutter was coming loose at one end. These things never happen at the beginning of a drought, of course. I'll have to arrange for a repair soon, but I'm sure gutter repair companies will be busy for the next month with damages from fallen tree branches.
The rain only lasted a short while, but we got 1/2" of rainfall. I'm glad of that! I would have liked more. I've been watering selected parts of the gardens, but nothing beats rain falling everywhere. Some long-established shrubs were wilting and the 1/2" of rain perked them right up.
There wasn't too much tree damage in the neighborhood. After lesser winds, I've awakened to the sounds of chainsaws. But I went out and found a dozen broken branches in the yard. I collected them to bring then up front to pile in the utility trailer, when I realized I had walked RIGHT PAST a major tree branch fallen on the hosta bed, LOL! I haven't moved it yet, its way too big for me to lift. I'll have to haul out the chainsaw.
I have to laugh, of the entire neighborhood, I may be the only person having to use a chainsaw this weekend!
It could always be worse. One nice thing about my property is the huge mature oaks and sweetgums. One bad thing is the huge mature oaks and sweetgums! There is one old oak directly west of the house (from where the strongest winds come). Every severe wind, I wait to hear it crack and fall onto the house. I regret that I will have to have it cut down some day before it crashes onto the house. I wonder if my insurance company will partially pay for preemptive tree-cutting?
The wind suddenly whipped up to near hurricane level, the rain started, and the lights began flickering. I'm not too worried about the lights because we have underground cables here; a power outage is rare and usually lasts only a few seconds to a few minutes. Its been years since it was a whole hour. I LOVE our underground cables!
But the rain started driving against the front windows higher up and harder than I can recall seeing even in the few hurricanes we get in MD. Naturally, I had just noticed this past week that my back rain gutter was coming loose at one end. These things never happen at the beginning of a drought, of course. I'll have to arrange for a repair soon, but I'm sure gutter repair companies will be busy for the next month with damages from fallen tree branches.
The rain only lasted a short while, but we got 1/2" of rainfall. I'm glad of that! I would have liked more. I've been watering selected parts of the gardens, but nothing beats rain falling everywhere. Some long-established shrubs were wilting and the 1/2" of rain perked them right up.
There wasn't too much tree damage in the neighborhood. After lesser winds, I've awakened to the sounds of chainsaws. But I went out and found a dozen broken branches in the yard. I collected them to bring then up front to pile in the utility trailer, when I realized I had walked RIGHT PAST a major tree branch fallen on the hosta bed, LOL! I haven't moved it yet, its way too big for me to lift. I'll have to haul out the chainsaw.
I have to laugh, of the entire neighborhood, I may be the only person having to use a chainsaw this weekend!
It could always be worse. One nice thing about my property is the huge mature oaks and sweetgums. One bad thing is the huge mature oaks and sweetgums! There is one old oak directly west of the house (from where the strongest winds come). Every severe wind, I wait to hear it crack and fall onto the house. I regret that I will have to have it cut down some day before it crashes onto the house. I wonder if my insurance company will partially pay for preemptive tree-cutting?
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Garden/Yard
Well, not everything here is "Dad". I still work in the yard when I get the chance. My latest project has been removing weedy tree saplings and brambles.
This is the debris...
The nastiest work was among the brambles.
They grab everything! Clothes, socks, shoes, flesh... I bled from many unexpected thorny encounters. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. Thorns beat skin almost every time.
But plants can't organize and move. I can. I won slowly (though painfully). One square foot at a time...
I can imagine it from the bramble point of view. "We tried to flee, but we were frozen in place as if stuck in the ground! Closer and closer it came, our friends screaming as they were cut down mercilessly, Finally, I was the only one left , I determined to defeat the terrible claws of the lopper, sure that my will would prevail. Then it came. The final contest arrived. I willed my cells to..."
LOP! The last dead bramble...
This is the view to the house from the toolshed..
Before...
And after...
Quite a difference! I hate to say this, but I use Roundup. Carefully, but not as the manufacturer recommends. When I cut down the weedy tree saplings this time, I use a disposable brush and dab a bit of undiluted Roundup on the cut stump. As Ripley said in 'Aliens' (I think, well, one of those), "Its the only way to be sure".
I should explain... The backyard is half mature trees and half open. The half open part has my garden for 2/3s and a weird raised ridge between the trees and the garden. It is slightly too sloped to mow easily, but mostly it has been taken over by english ivy. I have no idea where the ivy came from, but it sure loves the ridge.
That ridge has always been a landscaping embarrassment. I've tried to figure out what to do with it for 25 years and never come to a satisfactory conclusion. Its just ugly, and I mean that in a "utility" sense.
It's too shaded for gardening and too sunlit for hostas. It's too sloped to mow with the riding mower and my few attempts to use a regular gas manual mower have been exhausting. Where there isn't english ivy, there is poison ivy and weedy saplings grow there happily.
When I stand out on my deck, the ridge is in the center of all I view. It says "Oh try to dig me up. I will outlast your puny pathetic personal muscular efforts; you are too old to defeat me now. Remember when you tried to level off that ONE small hill of me? You quit after only an hour. You WIMP". It says other things, but I can't repeat them in polite society.
I can either make my peace with the ridge or... I can destroy it. Yes, it is time to bring out the big gun. An Excavator! A PROFESSIONAL! The ridge has to be leveled. I realize that this is a personal fight with the local geography. But while I'm generally inclined to let nature be nature, this ridge mocks me constantly.
I could have the ridge removed finally or move.
It goes, or I do...
It is going to go! Because I'M not.
Mark
This is the debris...
I can imagine it from the bramble point of view. "We tried to flee, but we were frozen in place as if stuck in the ground! Closer and closer it came, our friends screaming as they were cut down mercilessly, Finally, I was the only one left , I determined to defeat the terrible claws of the lopper, sure that my will would prevail. Then it came. The final contest arrived. I willed my cells to..."
LOP! The last dead bramble...
Before...
And after...
I should explain... The backyard is half mature trees and half open. The half open part has my garden for 2/3s and a weird raised ridge between the trees and the garden. It is slightly too sloped to mow easily, but mostly it has been taken over by english ivy. I have no idea where the ivy came from, but it sure loves the ridge.
That ridge has always been a landscaping embarrassment. I've tried to figure out what to do with it for 25 years and never come to a satisfactory conclusion. Its just ugly, and I mean that in a "utility" sense.
It's too shaded for gardening and too sunlit for hostas. It's too sloped to mow with the riding mower and my few attempts to use a regular gas manual mower have been exhausting. Where there isn't english ivy, there is poison ivy and weedy saplings grow there happily.
When I stand out on my deck, the ridge is in the center of all I view. It says "Oh try to dig me up. I will outlast your puny pathetic personal muscular efforts; you are too old to defeat me now. Remember when you tried to level off that ONE small hill of me? You quit after only an hour. You WIMP". It says other things, but I can't repeat them in polite society.
I can either make my peace with the ridge or... I can destroy it. Yes, it is time to bring out the big gun. An Excavator! A PROFESSIONAL! The ridge has to be leveled. I realize that this is a personal fight with the local geography. But while I'm generally inclined to let nature be nature, this ridge mocks me constantly.
I could have the ridge removed finally or move.
It goes, or I do...
It is going to go! Because I'M not.
Mark
Monday, June 25, 2012
Living With Dad, 9
What I miss about living alone...
1. Listening to music.
2. Watching cartoon shows.
3. Drinking too much once in a while.
4. Staying up all night sometimes.
5. Playing Risk, Scrabble, and Backgammon on the computer at game sites for hours.
6. Standing out on the deck watching the wildlife and contemplating yardwork while drinking a beer.
7. No criticism. Dad is a natural critic. Well, he's an engineer. His order of perfection in the universe is "A vague deity", surgeons, engineers, and then everyone else. I'm in the "everyone else" category of course, LOL!
8. Staying cool (temperature-wise). I have a high metabolism. I'm comfortable at 68F. Dad wants it at 85F.
9. Not ever watching Fox News. Dad thinks Fox News really IS "fair and balanced".
10. Being sarcastic or making jokes. Dad doesn't get jokes anymore..
11. Being alone.
12. Not getting really strange advice. Like "you have too many cats", "you have too many flowerbeds", or "you have too many books".
13. Keeping odd hours.
14. Not having to explain anything to anyone.
15. Arranging and keeping track of someone ELSE'S doctor/dentist appointments.
I'm making adjustments (and getting used to them). Most of my old habits are arbitrary, so I can change them. And I'm naturally flexible. For example, I never used to eat meals on a schedule, but Dad does. So now I eat lunch every day at noon and dinner at 6 pm. It might even be good for me...
For the rest, time will solve those "problems" eventually. I may even miss the changes to my lifestyle some day.
One day at a time...
1. Listening to music.
2. Watching cartoon shows.
3. Drinking too much once in a while.
4. Staying up all night sometimes.
5. Playing Risk, Scrabble, and Backgammon on the computer at game sites for hours.
6. Standing out on the deck watching the wildlife and contemplating yardwork while drinking a beer.
7. No criticism. Dad is a natural critic. Well, he's an engineer. His order of perfection in the universe is "A vague deity", surgeons, engineers, and then everyone else. I'm in the "everyone else" category of course, LOL!
8. Staying cool (temperature-wise). I have a high metabolism. I'm comfortable at 68F. Dad wants it at 85F.
9. Not ever watching Fox News. Dad thinks Fox News really IS "fair and balanced".
10. Being sarcastic or making jokes. Dad doesn't get jokes anymore..
11. Being alone.
12. Not getting really strange advice. Like "you have too many cats", "you have too many flowerbeds", or "you have too many books".
13. Keeping odd hours.
14. Not having to explain anything to anyone.
15. Arranging and keeping track of someone ELSE'S doctor/dentist appointments.
I'm making adjustments (and getting used to them). Most of my old habits are arbitrary, so I can change them. And I'm naturally flexible. For example, I never used to eat meals on a schedule, but Dad does. So now I eat lunch every day at noon and dinner at 6 pm. It might even be good for me...
For the rest, time will solve those "problems" eventually. I may even miss the changes to my lifestyle some day.
One day at a time...
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Living With Dad, 8
Today is one month since Dad moved in. Its gone a LOT better than I expected. Which isn't to say "great", but you know what I mean. It could be a whole lot worse.
Getting Dad up here was awkward, but my "too complicated" plans worked (thanks to my brother actually driving Dad from FL to MD over 2 days). Settling Dad into the house was difficult at first. Well, he went from a house of his own to a room of his own; that was hard for him. Of course, he has the rest of THIS house now, and its bigger than his FL house.
Dad had a hard time getting used to the idea of being here as a resident, not a visitor. I did too. Nothing like (me) living alone for 28 years and then suddenly having a housemate! I still haven't gotten used to having someone else around 24/7.
The odd thing is that I've always been a happy loner, but I'm doing OK with Dad here. I've always been good about adjusting to new situations. Hmmm... Let's correct that to "Ive always been good AT adjusting to new situations, even if I hate it and do it kicking and screaming at first". Which of course, I couldn't do with Dad here being all concerned about this major change in his life.
So this was ONE time I surpressed the "kicking and screaming at first" and went straight to the acceptance part. Well, I guess family matters. I never had a family housemate since I left for college 44 years ago.
Please don't take this wrong, but the idea that it is not permanent helps. There will come a time when Dad needs professional full time care I can't provide. It may not be all that long. But it is uncertain. He is both healthy and fading at the same time. I don't know how to explain that (but of course, I will try anyway).
He is HEALTHY in that he has a good appetite, needs no personal hygiene assistance, can usually walk around on his own, and can deal with simple daily activities very well. He can get in and out of the car, carry dishes to the table and back, help with some parts of the meals, etc. When I say "healthy" I mean that his internal body (heart, lungs, etc) seems to be in good condition, and he is mentally able is daily things.
He is FADING in that he is having more difficulty getting STARTED walking around (his feet just won't go when he wants them to), is more hunched over, and possibly more forgetful than when he got here just a month ago. When we were in FL, he could remember events of a week previous. Now, a few days ago is beyond his recall. So some things are fading in just a month, but other parts of his life are staying steady.
None of his doctors suggested Alzheimer's, and only one suggested "mild dementia". I question the non-dementia part, though. Its one thing not to remember what he had for dinner the day before (sometimes I have to think about that myself), but its another to not remember going in the car with me to deposit checks at his bank the previous day.
He is generally happy...
He watches Fox News or golf most of the day, he enjoys my cooking (and he should - more on that below), and he has someone to talk to (Mom went into assisted care in 2009 and died in 2010). I actually listen to him. Its hard with old folks, but I register when he says anything and make sure I hear what he is saying and respond. Even when it doesn't make sense at first.
It helps that I have cats. Don't laugh! As parents always have an ear open to the sounds of children, I have always had a part of my mind attuned to the sounds of the cats. That same part hears Dad all the time. I can always stop what I'm doing and sit next to him to hear anything he wants to say. And I suppose if I've done it for a month, I can do it for a year.
The hardest part is dealing with documents that come in the mail. I've started just tossing the obvious junk mail, but most of his mail is uncertain as to importance. I hate the advertising from established business arrangements most. Some are important, some are junk, but they are all equally concerning to Dad. I HAVE to let him open them. I will NOT open any mail to him that might be important. He has a right to his mail.
Even if it takes me an hour to convince him that some mail is not important and some is...
About the cooking... In FL, Dad was living off (as far as I can tell by asking and by what was in his refrigerator/freezer) hotdogs, frozen fish filets, ice cream, and martinis. It is very likely that the best thing the 2 weeks of rehab hospital gave him was balanced meals!
And I've been doing that here. That part is easy, I am just cooking the same stuff I normally eat, just twice as much. Except that he MUST have a potato with each meal. But basically, I have always had a meat, a green veg, an orange/yellow veg, a tossed salad, and sometimes a starch like spaghetti or rice. Fresh fruits for dessert, though I kind of fell into a weakness for small slices of fancy cheescakes just before Dad arrived.
So we meet in the middle, sort of. He has to get my good diet, but he also gets his ice cream for dessert and I get some fresh fruits into him with the ice cream. I wish I could get him to eat more fruit. He likes it well enough, but if he was ALMOST full and had a choice between ice cream and a good ripe peach, he'll go for the ice cream. Well, he's 90, maybe I shouldn't worry about that so much. If he made it to 90, ice cream probably ISN'T going to be what kills him!
Dad still does strange things. Mostly "strange" because they are not what he did the day before. I found a laundry hamper to fit in the main bathroom (he doesn't want it in his bedroom for some reason and the hamper in his FL house WAS in the bathroom). And he usually puts his worn clothes in there. But yesterday he "washed" his underpants in the sink and set them to dry over the air vent.
Well, life with Dad isn't boring; there's always something new...
Mark
Getting Dad up here was awkward, but my "too complicated" plans worked (thanks to my brother actually driving Dad from FL to MD over 2 days). Settling Dad into the house was difficult at first. Well, he went from a house of his own to a room of his own; that was hard for him. Of course, he has the rest of THIS house now, and its bigger than his FL house.
Dad had a hard time getting used to the idea of being here as a resident, not a visitor. I did too. Nothing like (me) living alone for 28 years and then suddenly having a housemate! I still haven't gotten used to having someone else around 24/7.
The odd thing is that I've always been a happy loner, but I'm doing OK with Dad here. I've always been good about adjusting to new situations. Hmmm... Let's correct that to "Ive always been good AT adjusting to new situations, even if I hate it and do it kicking and screaming at first". Which of course, I couldn't do with Dad here being all concerned about this major change in his life.
So this was ONE time I surpressed the "kicking and screaming at first" and went straight to the acceptance part. Well, I guess family matters. I never had a family housemate since I left for college 44 years ago.
Please don't take this wrong, but the idea that it is not permanent helps. There will come a time when Dad needs professional full time care I can't provide. It may not be all that long. But it is uncertain. He is both healthy and fading at the same time. I don't know how to explain that (but of course, I will try anyway).
He is HEALTHY in that he has a good appetite, needs no personal hygiene assistance, can usually walk around on his own, and can deal with simple daily activities very well. He can get in and out of the car, carry dishes to the table and back, help with some parts of the meals, etc. When I say "healthy" I mean that his internal body (heart, lungs, etc) seems to be in good condition, and he is mentally able is daily things.
He is FADING in that he is having more difficulty getting STARTED walking around (his feet just won't go when he wants them to), is more hunched over, and possibly more forgetful than when he got here just a month ago. When we were in FL, he could remember events of a week previous. Now, a few days ago is beyond his recall. So some things are fading in just a month, but other parts of his life are staying steady.
None of his doctors suggested Alzheimer's, and only one suggested "mild dementia". I question the non-dementia part, though. Its one thing not to remember what he had for dinner the day before (sometimes I have to think about that myself), but its another to not remember going in the car with me to deposit checks at his bank the previous day.
He is generally happy...
It helps that I have cats. Don't laugh! As parents always have an ear open to the sounds of children, I have always had a part of my mind attuned to the sounds of the cats. That same part hears Dad all the time. I can always stop what I'm doing and sit next to him to hear anything he wants to say. And I suppose if I've done it for a month, I can do it for a year.
The hardest part is dealing with documents that come in the mail. I've started just tossing the obvious junk mail, but most of his mail is uncertain as to importance. I hate the advertising from established business arrangements most. Some are important, some are junk, but they are all equally concerning to Dad. I HAVE to let him open them. I will NOT open any mail to him that might be important. He has a right to his mail.
Even if it takes me an hour to convince him that some mail is not important and some is...
About the cooking... In FL, Dad was living off (as far as I can tell by asking and by what was in his refrigerator/freezer) hotdogs, frozen fish filets, ice cream, and martinis. It is very likely that the best thing the 2 weeks of rehab hospital gave him was balanced meals!
And I've been doing that here. That part is easy, I am just cooking the same stuff I normally eat, just twice as much. Except that he MUST have a potato with each meal. But basically, I have always had a meat, a green veg, an orange/yellow veg, a tossed salad, and sometimes a starch like spaghetti or rice. Fresh fruits for dessert, though I kind of fell into a weakness for small slices of fancy cheescakes just before Dad arrived.
So we meet in the middle, sort of. He has to get my good diet, but he also gets his ice cream for dessert and I get some fresh fruits into him with the ice cream. I wish I could get him to eat more fruit. He likes it well enough, but if he was ALMOST full and had a choice between ice cream and a good ripe peach, he'll go for the ice cream. Well, he's 90, maybe I shouldn't worry about that so much. If he made it to 90, ice cream probably ISN'T going to be what kills him!
Dad still does strange things. Mostly "strange" because they are not what he did the day before. I found a laundry hamper to fit in the main bathroom (he doesn't want it in his bedroom for some reason and the hamper in his FL house WAS in the bathroom). And he usually puts his worn clothes in there. But yesterday he "washed" his underpants in the sink and set them to dry over the air vent.
Well, life with Dad isn't boring; there's always something new...
Mark
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Garden
I get some time out in the garden.
Here is one of the tomato beds. In front are bell peppers and basil.
Behind them are heirloom tomatoes. In the blue tubs, I grow potatoes. This year I have blue potatoes I found in a grocery store. To harvest the potatoes, I just dump the tub out on a tarp.
That's my first fruit of the year.
This is the hanging pot with the cherry tomato growing out the bottom. It is growing up, but gravity will win. Then I will pick cherry tomatoes as I walk past.
Here are the few Italian flat beans that grew. I need to plant more Only half grew.
And more cukes too. Only half of THEM emerged.
Here is one of the tomato beds. In front are bell peppers and basil.
Behind them are heirloom tomatoes. In the blue tubs, I grow potatoes. This year I have blue potatoes I found in a grocery store. To harvest the potatoes, I just dump the tub out on a tarp.
That's my first fruit of the year.
This is the hanging pot with the cherry tomato growing out the bottom. It is growing up, but gravity will win. Then I will pick cherry tomatoes as I walk past.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Living With Dad, 7
Its the finances that are going to be the death of me. Not costs, I mean the checks and bank statements, trash documents, etc. Every single little document is a source of frustration. We spent 1.5 hours deciding what to do with 1 received check, 2 change of address confirmations, a homeowner association board meeting notice, and a monthly investment statement. It was maybe 10 minutes work for me if I got those myself. But with the detailed explanations required for Dad, the repeat of the explanations a few minutes later, the backtracking after that, the filling out of a simple form and addressing of a simple envelope, and "the keeping of the documents", we used up 1.5 hours.
Dad is completely confused about his several banks with multiple accounts. He considers each separate account "a bank" in conversation, which gets really confusing. Fortunately, I have managed to eliminate one actual bank. Every simplification helps. A constant concern of his is bank failure and loss of his money (he is old enough to remember the bank failures of the Great Depression). I explain that assets are federally insured, but Fox News reports and gold-seller advertisements all over TV have him worried. I would like to get his checking and standard savings accounts into a local bank, a money market account into another, and some money into CDs at a credit union (for the higher interest). Yeah, that's 3 banks, but they would be separated by type of accounts and I can keep THAT straight. Plus new accounts get me a clean start so that I can start balancing his checkbook and entering his earned interest monthly. Right now, he just trusts the monthly bank statements to be accurate.
And I'm still trying to get his older records sorted out (mostly looking for 2011 tax information). So after the new mail was taken care of, we spent another hour+ as we went through the remaining ones in his duffel bag (his version of a file cabinet drawer).
Dad keeps stuff in old envelopes chronologically. Worse, its chronologically by date of receipt, not the month it actually applies to. So an amendment to his 2008 taxes is with Oct 2011 stuff because thats when it was processed. And the Oct 2011 envelope has his property tax voucher in with bank statements, PR junk from a bank, and donations for the month, etc. ARGHHH!
He can't understand why I want to sort documents by company and subject... I'd understand if he could find any documents with his system, but he can't. And I have to be able to find his documents.
His wallet is another scrambled mess. There aren't many cards in it, but they are all just stacked together. HE can't find anything in it when he needs to, and objects if I try to find anything. For example, finding his Social Security card or credit card takes forever. Not because he has so many cards in the wallet, but because he keeps them (deliberately) packed into just a couple plastic holders (all the others are broken on the sides). I'd LIKE to get him a new wallet with new cardholders for each card, but he won't spend the money for one OR allow me to just buy one. He wants his OLD wallet, broken as it is...
I'm hoping to get a chance to buy him a new wallet for Fathers Day and HOPE he will use it. One nice plastic holder for each card he has in the old wallet.
I understand his concerns about keeping records the way he is accustomed to. I really do; changes in personal organization are difficult. But his way doesn't work for HIM either anymore and I'M the one who has to find records now.
I also know that I need to make changes slowly so that Dad can get used to them (in reality, "slowly" so that he has SOME illusion of control).
I think the hardest part of all this is that I'm not dealing with a child. I'm dealing with a person who knows he is an adult but COMPREHENDS like a child. A child doesn't know or care about records and forms. An adult does. Dad KNOWS that these documents are important (and quite frankly, HIS). While he knows that he can't understand them anymore, he can't stop trying. THAT'S the Sisyphean hill we labor against every day...
Dad's fading mental abilities are the rock he is trying to push uphill. But I'M the one doing most of the pushing and I have to keep running around him awkwardly to get a good grip on the rock. When he asks the same set of questions about "settled" actions for the 3rd or 4th time, the rock slips downhill a bit and I have to get the rock uphill a bit further than it was when we started the day.
The rock will get bigger and heavier as time goes on and Dad has greater difficulties in understanding things. I expect it, and I'll deal with it as best I can. Because there will come a day when Dad no longer even tries to manage his affairs. That will be a more difficult day. Easier in the sense of "just handling his bills myself", but harder in that I will be watching my Dad fading from this world...
Mark
Dad is completely confused about his several banks with multiple accounts. He considers each separate account "a bank" in conversation, which gets really confusing. Fortunately, I have managed to eliminate one actual bank. Every simplification helps. A constant concern of his is bank failure and loss of his money (he is old enough to remember the bank failures of the Great Depression). I explain that assets are federally insured, but Fox News reports and gold-seller advertisements all over TV have him worried. I would like to get his checking and standard savings accounts into a local bank, a money market account into another, and some money into CDs at a credit union (for the higher interest). Yeah, that's 3 banks, but they would be separated by type of accounts and I can keep THAT straight. Plus new accounts get me a clean start so that I can start balancing his checkbook and entering his earned interest monthly. Right now, he just trusts the monthly bank statements to be accurate.
And I'm still trying to get his older records sorted out (mostly looking for 2011 tax information). So after the new mail was taken care of, we spent another hour+ as we went through the remaining ones in his duffel bag (his version of a file cabinet drawer).
Dad keeps stuff in old envelopes chronologically. Worse, its chronologically by date of receipt, not the month it actually applies to. So an amendment to his 2008 taxes is with Oct 2011 stuff because thats when it was processed. And the Oct 2011 envelope has his property tax voucher in with bank statements, PR junk from a bank, and donations for the month, etc. ARGHHH!
He can't understand why I want to sort documents by company and subject... I'd understand if he could find any documents with his system, but he can't. And I have to be able to find his documents.
His wallet is another scrambled mess. There aren't many cards in it, but they are all just stacked together. HE can't find anything in it when he needs to, and objects if I try to find anything. For example, finding his Social Security card or credit card takes forever. Not because he has so many cards in the wallet, but because he keeps them (deliberately) packed into just a couple plastic holders (all the others are broken on the sides). I'd LIKE to get him a new wallet with new cardholders for each card, but he won't spend the money for one OR allow me to just buy one. He wants his OLD wallet, broken as it is...
I'm hoping to get a chance to buy him a new wallet for Fathers Day and HOPE he will use it. One nice plastic holder for each card he has in the old wallet.
I understand his concerns about keeping records the way he is accustomed to. I really do; changes in personal organization are difficult. But his way doesn't work for HIM either anymore and I'M the one who has to find records now.
I also know that I need to make changes slowly so that Dad can get used to them (in reality, "slowly" so that he has SOME illusion of control).
I think the hardest part of all this is that I'm not dealing with a child. I'm dealing with a person who knows he is an adult but COMPREHENDS like a child. A child doesn't know or care about records and forms. An adult does. Dad KNOWS that these documents are important (and quite frankly, HIS). While he knows that he can't understand them anymore, he can't stop trying. THAT'S the Sisyphean hill we labor against every day...
Dad's fading mental abilities are the rock he is trying to push uphill. But I'M the one doing most of the pushing and I have to keep running around him awkwardly to get a good grip on the rock. When he asks the same set of questions about "settled" actions for the 3rd or 4th time, the rock slips downhill a bit and I have to get the rock uphill a bit further than it was when we started the day.
The rock will get bigger and heavier as time goes on and Dad has greater difficulties in understanding things. I expect it, and I'll deal with it as best I can. Because there will come a day when Dad no longer even tries to manage his affairs. That will be a more difficult day. Easier in the sense of "just handling his bills myself", but harder in that I will be watching my Dad fading from this world...
Mark
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Living With Dad, 6
Wow, Dad got up at 2 am and turned on the TV to watch Fox News for about 10 minutes. Then went back to bed. I guess I better start documenting his activities. Because I'll forget them and it may become important some day.
Last night, he suddenly started asking where his wine was. I thought he meant his vermouth because he calls that white wine. Well, I suppose it is, but he insisted he had a bottle of red wine in the fridge.
He did not have a bottle of red wine in the fridge. He has never had a bottle of red wine in my fridge. He doesn't even LIKE red wine. I think there was a very old bottle of red wine in his fridge in FL. He is forgetting where he is again, in time AND space.
He usually has these confused moments around sundown. Travis at HealthSouth said its actually CALLED "Sundowner". I'm getting to avoid asking difficult questions at sundown. He gets very confused then. And its so weird! One moment he is acting fairly normal, then like a light switch turned off, he make no sense. I need to look this up. Maybe there are ways I can help him around this daily confusion.
It is hard watching this happen.
I'm tempted to go through the rest of the documents in his duffel bag. It would be so easy for ME to do it. But I won't. It matters that he sees every document, even if it is so slow. *sigh*
Dad complained about the sheets on the bed. I washed/dried them last night and made his bed. No static either. He says he itches. Well I can't get him to shower more than once a week, of COURSE he itches. Am I supposed to drag him into the shower? I would if I should. Should I?
Last night, he suddenly started asking where his wine was. I thought he meant his vermouth because he calls that white wine. Well, I suppose it is, but he insisted he had a bottle of red wine in the fridge.
He did not have a bottle of red wine in the fridge. He has never had a bottle of red wine in my fridge. He doesn't even LIKE red wine. I think there was a very old bottle of red wine in his fridge in FL. He is forgetting where he is again, in time AND space.
He usually has these confused moments around sundown. Travis at HealthSouth said its actually CALLED "Sundowner". I'm getting to avoid asking difficult questions at sundown. He gets very confused then. And its so weird! One moment he is acting fairly normal, then like a light switch turned off, he make no sense. I need to look this up. Maybe there are ways I can help him around this daily confusion.
It is hard watching this happen.
I'm tempted to go through the rest of the documents in his duffel bag. It would be so easy for ME to do it. But I won't. It matters that he sees every document, even if it is so slow. *sigh*
Dad complained about the sheets on the bed. I washed/dried them last night and made his bed. No static either. He says he itches. Well I can't get him to shower more than once a week, of COURSE he itches. Am I supposed to drag him into the shower? I would if I should. Should I?
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