Some Improvements

I had a "Noon to 4" appointment for the new oven to be delivered.  Would you believe they called at 10:30 am and said they would arrive in 30 minutes?  No?  Well they did!  They came in, measured the space (better to know if there was an error before they brought the new one in, I suppose), took the old one out, and brought in the new one.

They set it in place, but it was an inch below the countertop, so I insisted they pull it back out and raise the levelers at the bottom.  I understand that their only desire is to get in and out as fast as possible, but I'll be living with the thing another 15 years, LOL!  So they did that.  Then I slapped a spirit level on the top and it was a bit high in the back.  So they raised the front a bit more.  Then, I pulled on the back and it seemed to wobble just a little.  They pulled on the bottom and it didn't.  We realized it the the hinged stovetop that was moving slightly so they tightened it a bit.

It's worth being a bit fussy sometimes!

So now I have a working oven again.

Wow, when they said it was "black" I didn't realize HOW black!  My old one was "black" too, but it had a white top.

Isn't it nice to have an oven looking so clean?

BTW, you notice that the bottom rack looks a bit thick and complicated?  It pulls out on rollers!  Is that neat or what?  Tomorrow, I'll see how accurate the temperature setting is using my good oven thermometers.  The old one was 20F off and I always had to keep that in mind.  I hope one is really accurate.

The other nice change is the new integrated stereo amplifier (from my POV, it means it controls whether you are listening to CDs or radio).  The old one had a volume control problem.  You had to really fuss with it to get both speakers working, it would suddenly change on its own, and the speakers sounded fuzzy.  So I searched on Amazon.com for a replacement and couldn't figure out what to replace it with.

Do you remember that old commercial where a guy sits back in his recliner and turns on his fancy superstereo and his hair blows back from the volume?  I'm not that guy.  I bought a modest bundled system in a cabinet 35 years ago.  I did add a CD player a decade ago, but I really don't understand the components.  I want to just press a CD or tuner button and hear something clearly.

So I took a trip to Best Buy so I could actually talk to someone.  And yes, if I go to a store and get good advice, that's where I purchase.  So I explained that the volume control was broken, that the speakers might be bad AND I wanted to combine the stereo system with the cable TV.  The guy there recommended that I get a new amp that could process the cable TV, and see if the speakers were good through that.  Good honest person!

There were 2 Pioneer amps he showed me.  One at $349 and one at $499.  When I asked him what the difference was, he said the expensive one was the newer year model and the difference was "entirely cosmetic".  Wow...  I'm surprised he can keep his job.  I'll have to go back and fill out one of those "good employee cards".

So I got the amp and spent an hour installing it.  Not the amp's fault, I had to rearrange the holding racks in the cabinet (and I pulled out that useless cassette deck).  One thing I DON'T like about it is that the component control is a dial that offers everything from the usual stereo choices to DVD to internet radio settings (and I don't even KNOW what "BD" means, except I'm pretty sure it is NOT that guy in Doonesbury).  I'd rather have dedicated buttons like on the old one.  But since this thing does a dozen things, that would start to be a lot of buttons.

Still, this new component may pull me (not exactly kicking and screaming) into the 21st century.  I have the HDTV,  the amp is internet-ready, etc.  If I connect the TV to the stereo and put a wireless connection on it with a wireless keyboard, I could do a lot of surfing right there at the TV.  I might even look into streaming TV.

But mainly, it was nice to discover that my old DCM speakers are just fine.  I put on Pictures at an Exhibition (Mussorgsky).  It sounded great!  My hair even blew back just a little... ;)

I think I'll try Inna-Gadda-Da-Vida later, followed by Jesus Christ:  Superstar.  It's been a year since I could listen to stuff like that.

UPDATE:  It occurs to me I should mention brands and model numbers, just in case anyone wants to know.  The oven is a GE JBS35 30" electric coil model, the top rated one by Consumer Reports and sure not the priciest one listed. (wow look at those smoothtop and induction ones!)  And since I have not the remotest connection to GE, I hope Consumer Reports won't mind me mentioning that.  If they do, I'll edit it to say that "a highly regarding CONSUMER magazine REPORTS that it was top rated in its category", LOL!  I am very dedicated to Consumer Reports ratings.  They and Angie's List have never failed me yet.

The integrated stereo amplifier is a Pioneer VSX-42, for whatever that is worth.  Evidently, stereo systems are so antiquated that Consumer Reports doesn't even rate them anymore.  I couldn't even find any in the last 3 years of their buying guide.  But it seems to be a good one even though the newer 2013 one is the old one with a fancier digital display.  

And I couldn't get my old tuner to work with the new amp.  It seems to have a tuner built in, but I LOVE the old one with its dedicated preset buttons.  Well, I unplugged the old tuner and plugged in the FM antenna that came with the new amp.  Voila!  Music!  I still want to figure out how to use the old tuner though. 

Bye Bye Dadio

Yesterday...

Well, my sister and BIL picked up Dad and all his stuff today. I had all his stuff packed.

Dad put on a warm shirt "because its cold out there".  It was 76 and humid...

BIL secures all the stuff.  We had to redo it because of Dad's rollercart.

Dad leaves the house ad Sister escorts Dad along the sidewalk.

Dad inspects the packing job and makes suggestions.

Dad finally gets in the car...

And then they all wave goodbye.  Dad waved behind the back window, but you can't see him.

And away they went...

I'm sad that that Dad is going to the final assisted living place.  So is he.  But he beat the odds, you know?  Not everyone reaches 91. He is proud of that, and I understand.  If I live another 28 years, I'll be his age.  I see my future in his stay with me.

Dad and I hugged before he got in the car.  We cried a bit.  Well, it was a serious year he stayed here, and I will never forget it.  But he knows what his future is, and so do I.

He is suffering dementia, but he's not stupid.  He KNOWS he doesn't understand things well anymore.  He KNOWS he forgets things.  Deep in his mind, he knows that things he thinks happen aren't accurate.  He's said so, he's talked of it.  As crazy and frustrating our discussions were at times, I understand how desperately he was trying to hang on to reality.  And I know that he appreciates that I was trying to help him there.  He said so, and I'm going to believe it.  For the rest of my life...

The last moments we were together alone, he thanked me for taking such good care of him the past "couple months".  Well, it was 11 months, but it wasn't a time to quibble.  I know he meant "a long time".  Sons and Fathers sometimes get awkward speaking to each other.

The assisted living facility is where he won't be challenged about time and accuracy of memories (which I did far too often).  They will know how to speak to him in only the present tense and avoid all the inconvenient discussions of the past that I could not avoid at times.

In the past year, I learned some things about his life that I never really knew before.  He did more civilian stuff in WWII than I realized.  Like building ships.  He had a patent on a gadget once.  He was a real mechanical engineer.  I knew some of that vaguely. but in our times, Dads didn't really bother to explain their careers to the kids.  That is precious.  He may have learned a few things about me, too.  Like I "know science stuff", that I'm a (sort of) writer (he read a couple short stories I got published in a semi-vanity press and said "your mother said you wrote good stuff, but I had never read them before (meaning that he didn't care for it himself, but was impressed I wrote it) and that was good enough for me.  He has admired all the daffodils he saw this last month that I planted in past years.  He was never here at this time of year before.  He said, "you care about beauty, like your Mom".

And he said he was surprised I like Escher prints (4 hanging on the walls the whole year).  Very "engineerish" he said.

I think it was all a final compliment as he left.  Things he never said to me before.  At 62, I don't really need validation. But I don't mind it either.  You probably can't ever not like validation from your Dad.

He will be a "resident", not a parent, at the assisted living facility.  Someone they will care for and not challenge sometimes in frustration as I sometimes did.  They will not care about (or know about) the parent/child dynamics.  And that will be good for him.  Dad will end his days only around people  like him to talk to and a staff dedicated to just taking care of him. 

And now I have to figure out what to do with this blog...

Vote for the best thing...

1.  Keep talking about Dad (what little I learn).
2.  Get back to the pre-Dad yardwork and house projects.
3.  Get WAY back and become a liberal political pest.

Moving Day Minus One

 Oops, this was supposed to be posted yesterday.  So pretend it was and I'll put up today's post tomorrow...

It felt strange packing up Dad's stuff today.  It wasn't that there was all that much (there wasn't - he came up here with what fit in a sedan and he is leaving with less), it was the act of preparing to have him leave tomorrow.

I'm a bit torn about the whole thing.  Sometimes he refers to me "kicking him out", which is not very nice.  But I understand that he would very much prefer to remain in a regular house with a family member.  Moving in with a bunch of strangers has to be scary.

At the same time, he generally understands that he needs more professional care (if not today, then soon).  Sometimes I too wish that I could take care of him for longer (to delay this inevitable final move).  But I can tell that I can't take care of him much longer without turning myself into a full time nurse and I don't have the training or experience to do it much longer anyway.  Heck, I can't even simply pick him up when he falls.

I'm not feeling exactly guilty.  Indeed, I will be relieved to be free of the responsibility.  I will be relieved to not have to be around the house as much as possible, to not have to explain why I am leaving it and for how long and why.  I will enjoy being able to just go outside without worrying he will fall and hurt himself while I'm out.

I am relieved that he is taking this change in his life as well as he is.  When I first talked to him about assisted-care living, he said he didn't think I could make him leave.  I envisioned having to nearly carry him to the car and driving him away screaming he was being kidnapped (as he nearly did when my brother and I moved him from FL to here).  At least now, he seems quietly resigned to the necessity of the move.  He also understands that this move will eventually end in hospice care at the "end".

But it will feel odd not to have him here.  I'll have to re-learn my old habits.  I'll be eating WHEN I feel like it, eating WHAT I feel like, going out WHEN I want, staying up as LATE as I feel like, getting up WHEN I feel like, etc.  I may even start playing golf and going fishing again.  I didn't do those last things the year before he arrived, but for the last year I felt like I couldn't, which is a big difference.

I will focus on the thoughts that he will have better personal care and more companionship.  I will focus on the thought that, after a couple of weeks, he will actually be happier in assisted care (something I have been told by many to be "almost universally" true.  I will focus on the thought that, after a month or so, he will forget he was ever here (his memory of his place in FL was gone after only 3 months and his memory is much worse now).  Very soon, his memories will be only day-to-day and of events decades ago.  His recent past will just be absent.

There is most of the family nearby where he is moving.  I will probably visit every month.  The day he doesn't remember who I am, I will stop visiting.  I won't be visiting for my benefit. I don't have to see him to love him as my Dad.

He will eventually forget being here and who I am.  But I will remember this past year...

Dad

I brought Dad to the geriatric Dr for a brief exam and getting the assisted living place medical evaluation form filled out.  He says Dad is care level 1 (least care).  The TB test results won't be known til Weds.  If he has a lump a the site of the shot, it's positive.  Extremely unlikely though. 

Dad's blood pressure is 130/70.  Might be better than mine.  But his heart skips occasionally.  Dr says Dad is in really good "condition for his condition".  Well, yeah, he's 91 this month.  You can't escape old age.  He could maybe take an 81mg aspirin daily.  But it was barely recommended.  Almost 50-50.

So Dad has had a Dr exam, an eye exam, and a some slight dental work.  He has some new clothes that fit him, new socks, and I am getting his prescriptions filled fully for another month and some new underwear.  I got him to try on an old pair of my suspenders last evening, and he LOVES them!  Well I have had them for 20 years because I love them.  Neither of us have a real waist, and Dad has been pulling up his pants for  month now.  He showed the first "plumbers butt" yesterday, so the timing is perfect.  Suspenders are great.

Sister and Hubby are coming down Thursday.  Their pickup has a cover and tie downs and space behind the front seats inside for loose items.  That relieves some of my concerns about tying small boxes down in the back.  The move will go wonderfully.

I can't wait for the new stove to be delivered.  I made pork stew and it took hours in the microwave.  Cooked the pork last night, but the potatoes, carrots, celery, beans, and bell peppers tonight.  The hardest part was making the "sauce" (cornstarch slurry, chicken buillion paste, herbs).  The M/W is faster for what fits in it, but an oven is better for large amounts.  I was a bit nervous about how it was all coming out.  I have never made a stew in the M/V.  But it turned out rather good.  Not "best" but OK.  One thing I have learned about chicken thighs and pork shoulders; they don't overcook easily.

I did learn that my personal dry rub for pork misses something without the meat being smoked.  It was a bit on the too-sweet side.

Thinking about packing Dad's stuff...

Busy, But Relaxed

Its gardening time.  There are things I need to get done.  First is getting a couple bucketloads of compost in my trailer to add the the garden.  And then I need to add that stuff in the beds and turn the soil to mix it in.

I spread corn gluten around the lawn and flowerbeds today.  One bag in the old toolshed had gotten wet and wouldn't spread.  Big  clumps.  But there is always SOMETHING to do with anything.  There was one removed tree that I had the tree team grind up the roots (they were exposed).  And you know what breaks down shredded tree bits?  Nitrogen.  And you know what the corn gluten is?  Nitrogen.  So I put the unspreadable corn gluten on the pile of shredded tree roots!  Raked them in well.

I had pelletized corn gluten in the basement, and spread that around.  It stops seeds from growing.  Actually, it stops that one initial seed root from growing.  Corn gluten is a dipepside and causes that.  I have no idea why.  But it works. 

Later today, I have to get Dad to a Dr evaluation for the assisted care facility test.  The eye Dr says his glasses are good.    Great.  I am buying him some new clothes too.  The pants he has are SO tight around his waist he can't clasp them and he thinks that is normal.  What he NEEDS is a looser waist and suspenders, but he cant manage the suspenders.  Dressing Dad is like trying to put clothes on a cat. At least the new pants I got fit around his waist and the shortened ones fit his legs.  So he has 3 pairs that fit him well.

3 days till Dad leaves...  It feels odd.

When It Rains It Pours.

Dad's move the assisted care house is still on track. Let me get that out of the way fast.  But you would think it was the first Monday after a vacation the way the rest of things poured down. 

First, the electric oven decided to burn itself up.   I turned it on a 4 pm to slow-roast a pork shoulder (aka Boston Butt).  I noticed a bright light inside and when I opened the door to look, I discovered the "W" shaped coil at the bottom was...  melting.  I you have ever seen arc-welding on TV, that's how it looked.  And the hot spot was slowly moving along the coil

After a minute, I decided to shoot it with the all-purpose fire-extinguisher and close the oven door to smother it.  I tried it once, twice, three times and the hot arc melting wouldn't stop!  So I called the fire department for advice.  They said they were on their way.  I told them it was a single story residence, the house wasn't on fire, etc, I just needed to know what to DO about this odd problem. 

I tossed Iza and Marley and Dad out into the back yard and locked Ayla in the computer room (because that's where she ran and hid). then opened the doors and windows.  Well, there was smoke from the burning heater coil and I didn't know what was in the fumes

They arrived in just minutes.  With a hook and ladder truck and a hose truck (really?).  I had asked for an advisor in a car, but I guess its fun to pull out all the heavy equipment and drive the stuff around with the lights flashing and the horns blaring and the 27 8x10 colored glossy photographs (oh wait, that's a different story).  But I wasn't going to let them in the house with a fire house (very messy PLUS it was an electrical problem).

Three guys came in (full gear) to look at the oven.  One had an infrared thermometer and said the insides were 650 F.  I had turned the oven off, of course, but we tripped the circuit breaker too, to be safe.  They pulled the oven out from the wall and examined it.  I mentioned the possible toxic fumes, but none of the guys had the slightest idea what the heater coil was made of.  Since it hadn't killed me, I decided to ignore it.

Their advice was to let the oven cool down and then replace it.  I don't mean to be sarcastic about guys that DO risk their lives, but I couldn't help an "Ooh, you think?" moment.

It took about 1 1/2 hours to clean that damn fire extinguisher powder from the kitchen.  I regret using it, but like the guy who jumped onto the cactus said "It seemed like a good idea at the time".  I mopped the floor, I cleaned behind the pulled-out oven, I washed everything exposed on the counters, then I washed the counters.

You know what Dad said?  "The floor is wet" and "When's dinner"?

So I set about making dinner.  With no stove...  I set about cooking some Italian sausage, corn, kale, and a potato.  Do you have any idea how long that takes using a microwave oven?  I had to cook EVERYTHING separately (its a very small M/V).  THEN I had to reheat everything on Dad's plate, THEN reheat everything on mine.  Dad complained that dinner was late.  I'm not sure he remembers that the oven burned up.  And I'm not going to ask; I just won't have to worry about his memory in 5 days! 

I have my Consumer Reports 2013 Guide out on the dining table to get a new oven...

I got a call from Dad's tax preparers.  They filed an extension for Dad, but he needs to sent a $3,000+ check by their best estimate.

Then Brother called to arrange to pick up Dad Thursday.  The idea he needed to transport Dad's bed and "stuff" was a complete surprise to him (he said).  Sister told me later she had discussed all those details with him.  But the highlight of the telephone call was that he needed $10K for his daughters wedding.  Oops, sorry, I'll help out with medical problems and college and taxes, but celebrations are his problem.  So he asked if Dad would help and I promised to give it my best sales pitch.

So I should mention that the unofficial stepdad of another of Dad's grandkids was looking for help with college tuition for a grandkid last week.  I had said that Dad is too confused these days, but decided to bring up both requests.  I consider college a lot more valuable than wedding ceremonies featuring lobster tails.  But I know that weddings matter too.

I spent 2 hours this evening squatting by Dad's chair and talking to him about the requests.  My knees STILL hurt.  I went in endless circles about who his grandkids were, what they needed, and how much help he felt comfortable providing.  Dad has such a hard time making decisions and keeping track of details.  I try to help (endlessly endlessly, endlessly), but when it comes to checks, he still has to agree to sign them, so he has to agree.  I tell him the requests, I tell him the situations, and offer him simple choices.  

He decided that equal help to both grand-daughters was best.  $2700 to each.  So then I had to call the Dead Sister's SO who is taking care of her kids (not his) AND Brother who is looking for wedding money for his dearest eldest daughter. 

I've sure had better days...  And, BTW, Dead Sister's SO said "Oh thank your Dad SO much for helping out"  Brother declined the check for his daughter's wedding saying he would "work on Dad
on the drive to the assisted care house...

Guess who I like better?

Its not about me.  Yeah, the past year feels like to push string all the time, but I can handle that.  It's almost just like another day at my old office.  Problems to solve, difficult people to talk into doing what is needed, etc. 

I know some other people have worse days; cancer, divorce, death, etc.

But I sure will be happy Thursday!

Taxes

I am gonna say that H&R Block tax software is GREAT.  Others might be great too.  But H&R tells you what the next questions are going to be, them asks them.  Its pretty much impossible to get the questions wrong.  Geez, they even tell you on THIS form, put the number in 1A here and 1B there, etc. 

It only took an hour and a half and I had investments to include.  Adding up all the columns on the investment report (most of which have nothing to do with earnings) took 15 minutes.  Can you believe an investment company that basically sends you a printed spreadsheet and DOESNT have the sense to put totals at the bottom!  But I filed electronically so that saved some time.  That sure was better than standing in line at the PO for an hour...

Confirmed and Planned

Brother arrives here Thursday, takes Dad and bed and clothes away.  It's a day Brother isn't scheduled to work.  Brother brings Dad to Sister's house and she brings Dad to assisted living house.

The place sounds great.  Corner room, flowering trees out the windows, some fancy bedroom furniture left behind (better than here), all the meals and snacks he wants, fancy screened porch with meals out there on nice days), talking with people his own age, TV, friends, care, etc.  And for less than his monthly retirement annuity.  He was worried about losing money staying there.  He won't (he has a better retirement annuity than I do).

Sister and I have pretty much locked down Dad's assets.  POA and all that and he can't cheated out of of it.  Anyone so much as gets a suspicious check and its all frozen at once.

We've done what we can.

A Place For Dad

Well, I got word today that the assisted living facility (ALF) will have a room for Dad April 18th.  I don't plan to think of "why" so suddenly; sad things happen.

I'm suddenly busy with making plans for next week.  And Dr appointments...  I'm glad I got Dad to a dentist this week; one thing out of the way.  And I got Dad to the eye Dr today; it turns out his cheap drugstore glasses are just fine for his needs and he has no other vision problems.

I need to get Dad to his geriatric internist Dr ASAP for the ALF medical evaluation and will call for an appointment tomorrow.  They can usually arrange an appointment in 2-3 days, so that's OK.

The difficult plans are getting Dad, his personal stuff, and bed to the ALF (near the rest of the family and about 90 miles from here.  I suggested 4 plans to my sister and am waiting for her thoughts on them.  All plans involve a family member driving down here and only one doesn't involve me driving up there.  I hope she likes the one where I don't do any driving.  LOL!

It is all a bit more sudden than I expected.  But if it all works out, I will sure be relieved.  I know that doesn't sound very kind, but I'm a bit worn out.  Even Dad says he feels bad about how much work I do to take care of him.

I won't say I'm "happy" to do it all, but I'm "willing".  I'm sure you understand the difference. 

When I retired from office work in 2006, I came home and told the cats "I'm here, forever, and I'm yours".  I felt complete freedom to just live "my way".

When Dad leaves here in bout a week, I will feel much the same way.  It's been a hard year, and it was an important experience in my life.  I would have gladly skipped the experience, but I'm sure you know what I mean. 

I'm going to speak some truth here.  I won't miss his daily presence.  He has been a demanding "guest" for 11 months.  I was perfectly happy with him living down in FL, and I will be perfectly happy with him living in the ALF for the rest of his days.  I don't have to see my family every day in order to love and care about them.

If Dad had been 10 years younger when he moved in with me, things would have been different.  We could have talked, shared some experiences, etc.  But that was not the case (and he wouldn't have moved in with me 10 years ago).  Every time for the past 4 months, I have regretted each conversation beyond "its dinnertime, go to the table".  His mental confusion has driven me nearly crazy.  Any accidental reference I made for months has caused a long, confused explanation that left me mentally exhausted.  It's not his fault, it's mine.  I should have learned what to talk to Dad about.  Meals, weather, golf channel, etc.  I talk too much when someone else is around.

But the move is about set.  I could make a joke about "the long national nightmare is over" (Ford about Nixon), but that's not really true.  I know how frustrated Dad is about is inabilities.  I know how angry he feels at himself when he can't find words (and I try to comfort him about that).  I know how frustrated he is when he can't walk easily.  I have learned how much he struggles to maintain his personal life and do what he needs to do on his own.

When I watch Dad, I see my own future.  I understand that a day will come in a future decade when I am in his shoes.  While I have a vague plan to "check out" just before I get to Dad's condition, I also realize I might not remember those plans at the right time.  Life is complicated and death is more complicated.

I will miss Dad, in a way.  This has been an intensely "togetherness" year.  But I will be gladder to get my life back.  And it will start in about a week.  I'm not doing cartwheels though the yard, but I will be relieved.

A Bump On The Road

Sometimes it seems the universe wants to throw boards onto the bike path.  The room that we were told would become available, will not be.  We didn't know the details, of course, but it seems the family got VA benefits to keep their elder at the assisted living house.

Now, the next room available will probably be from someone who is at hospice care level.  Hospice care is not long-term, of course, and the room might even come available sooner.

None of us want to see any elder taken out of assisted living care from lack of funds, and we sure don't want someone's loved one to die conveniently just to make a room available.  We will simply wait for the wheel of life to turn naturally and offer space for OUR Dad.  Meanwhile, I will "keep on keeping on" and hope Dad has good days until space at this good place is available.

I am going to decline the respite care available locally if I can.  I don't want Dad to have to move twice.  Once will be hard enough.  I can keep answering the same questions each day, the new weird questions, and the daily food difficulties (while at the same time hoping he does not get suddenly worse).

Tonight, Dad suddenly couldn't cut his chicken thigh (a favorite food).  Well, all meat has been becoming a problem.  He wiggles his knife 1/16th" and the meat moves that far too, so no cutting occurs.  He blames the meat or the knife of course.  I asked if he wanted help and he said that I couldn't possibly cut it either because it was so tough.

Well, he can't make full cutting strokes, but he was trying to cut through the bone!  I took care of it, "zip, zip, zip" and he was amazed.  I just said "Long knife-strokes, Dad" (as I've said almost every night for months).  I will take of that for all future meals.  I can get de-boned chicken thighs and serve more meals that don't require knife-work.

He does better with pork stew (roasted Boston Butt cubed up with diced potato/carrots/beans/onion and a flour-thickened herb sauce), peeled shrimp, Italian sausage smothered is slow-cooked red and green bell peppers or spaghetti with commercial meatballs (simmer crushed canned tomatoes with crushed garlic, italian seasoning, and minced onions with the meatballs for 30 minutes.  Commercial sauce has way too much sugar and salt).  No bones, and the meat is either pre-cut or easy to cut (like the sausage).  I slit the sausage down the side and remove the casing.  I've learned to make chicken breast strips (called "chicken fingers" locally) here with dipping sauces too (but Dad thinks he is supposed to eat the sauces with a spoon.

A smile:  Dad is so used to being "cheap" that a drop of sauce is all he wants...  I am so used to making grand meals ("Sunday Dinner" every day) that I hardly think twice about the effort.  That part of Dad's support is nearly invisible to me.  It really doesn't take much effort to make a sauce for two as for one.  I eat spaghetti for the tomato sauce*; Dad wants just a spoonful of ANY sauce.  Cooking for someone else is weird,

But I've learned to stop worrying HOW he eats his food (which used to drive me nuts).  If he thinks the pork stew is soup, that's fine.  If he thinks the dipping sauces are "side dishes", that's fine.  If he wants to scrape the wine/horseradish topping off his beef and put it in his salad, that's fine (as long as he eats the salad).  But I don't want to watch, LOL!  The important thing is that it all gets inside him.  But he eats his meals at a dining table (very traditionally) and I eat on a TV tray while watching science/nature DVDs (about my only TV viewing). 

OK, this has gone from Dad moving out to food.  That's OK, I love food (and at 5'7" and 163 pounds, I'm not too worried about it.  What I DO demand of my food is that it be varied and healthy.  Without ever intending to follow a diet, I find that I am close to "Paleo Diet".  Some meat, lots of non-grain veggies, not much sugar, and plenty of fruit.  I can actually eat "one potato chip" and I have one small piece of chocolate after a meal.  Good quality chocolate, though, LOL!

To connect this back to Dad though, he has to have a standard dessert, and large.  Big bowl of ice cream, a few chocolate chip cookies, I don't worry about it.  I try to get him to eat fresh fruit, buts that's actually more for the water (he avoids water).

We'll get by for the next month or so until there is a room at the assisted living facility that seems best-suited for him.  Waiting an extra month for "the best place he will spent the rest of his life" is survivable with an end to his time here in sight.

Do I want him to be out of here?  Yes.  Do I want my regular life back?  Yes.  Who wouldn't?  But I can keep going for now, and that's the important thing.  It's duty, responsibility, and respect for now.

Would I talk to him often if he was just my next-door neighbor?  Probably not.  He was an obnoxious pain decades ago.  His golf partners used to roll their eyes at the things he said.  At times, he could make Rush Limbaugh seem liberal.  But now is not the time to try to teach him anything.

My job now is to manage his "end of life" issues.

*  I once dated an ethnically Italian girl and at my first dinner there, they offered me the sauce first. I botched it by pouring a load of sauce on my pasta.  The relationship didn't last (for other reasons).  Interestingly,  a co-worker told me about HER first meal with an Italian family and SHE knew not to use much tomato sauce.  I would blame my parents for not teaching me such fine details, but they came from big sauce families.  ;)

"Laugh at the world; it won't care".

Mark

One Month

And so much to do.  Dr appointment for TB test and filling out the medical evaluation form for the assisted living house, dentist appointment for 2 bad teeth (that I didn't know about before a  month ago), eye doctor appointment for "real" reading glasses to replace those drug store magnifiers I discovered he has.  Clothes that fit.  He has been wearing 34/30 and he NEEDS 36 or 38/26.  And he really needs suspenders; belts are too complicated for him.

Its my fault, I let Dad decide what he needed  It seemed right at the time.  But I am correcting some mistakes as he moves out of my life.  I just wish I had been more forceful months ago...

Elder Care

Dad is still trying to find reasons not to move to an assisted-living facility (ALF), but I'll talk about that another day.

Today, I want to talk about me (and, by extension, some of you in a similar situation).  I have been caring for Dad since last May, and it will be this May when he moves to ALF.  There is a chinese curse "May you live in interesting times", because "interesting times" times are not easy.  It has been an "interesting" year...

I tried to think a couple of months into the future for my planning for Dad to move to an ALF.  But I planned a month too short.  Dad is having real problems right now rather suddenly and there is no where for him to go for a month.  You don't have to suggest in-home care, I'm looking into that.  And anyway, this is for others.

My point is that a month is so short a time normally, but a very long time when you are caring for an elder who needs professional care "now".  I'm not comparing myself to others.  Some people are more able to care for others than I am.  But whenever you really think "next month", think "I really should have found a good place last month".  It is so easy to think there is time, and then the day is on you.  It happens far more suddenly than you expect.

And this is a thing you seldom get to learn from for better decisions in the future.  Elder care is (usually) a one-off event.  A parent takes the care of a spouse and then that parent needs care him/her self.  That's you doing that part.  No matter what you think, how many books or newspaper articles you read, you won't be prepared.  You cannot understand dementia, and you cannot understand what it means for a person in your house who can't (please don't jump on me if you are "differently-abled") just walk around. 

Your elder parent will go from difficulty getting out of chairs to a complete inability to stand up at all in just a week.  He/She will very suddenly discover that the time it takes to get to the bathroom only 30' away is longer  than nature allows.  It just happens one day.

No one wants to send a parent to an ALF, but trust me, a month too soon is better than a month too late.  April will be a very difficult month here.  So, for what it's worth, some thoughts on things I wish I had known..

1.  Visit local ALFs months before needed.  Bring the elder.  Take pictures of the place.  Pictures provide familiarity.
2.  Get the Dr evaluation form early and bring the elder to the Dr before required.  The difference in the Dr evaluation from one month to the next can be very informative.  A geriatric Dr is best.  He/She can tell changes in abilities better than you can.
3.  Most ALFs are good, but some are more good than others.  Your elder can help you decide which suits him/her better than you can.  I didn't allow my Dad to be involved.  That was a mistake.
4.  Bedrooms matter.  Size is important.  Your elder will think of the bedroom as a primary living space.  Even if that is not the primary living space.
5.  It's "I need to talk to you", not "we need to talk" when The Conversation occurs about moving the elder to the ALF.  Explain the household situation calmly, and emphasize the elder's care.  Your own stress and tiredness are YOUR problem, not his/hers.  Stick with the elder's physical needs, not the mental ones.  The elder is SURE his/her mind is fine, but does know about physical problems.  Stay calm through endless (and repeated) questions.  There will be many.
6.  Discuss the move daily.  Repetition helps.  They forget.
7.  Get the elder new clothes that fit well.  Everyone wants to make a good initial impression.  Seriously, have you ever seen an elder with good clothes?
8.  Talk to the ALF staff about minor details.  Ask them what residents want that no one thinks of.  They know.   Sometimes its just chocolate chip cookies in the bedroom for late night snacks.  With a nice note from the child.  Or maybe a reminder of how to make a martini.
9.  Schedule visits.  Routine is very important to elders.
10.  Remember that The Conversation is NOT a debate; it's a decision.  Your decision.  There will be "you are kicking me out".  But it really is your decision.  Accept that.  You are doing what is best for your elder.  Keep it in terms of what care your elder needs, not whether you love them.  Of course you love them.  But don't allow that to be the discussion.

I am not feeling guilty now.  I've done what I could and it is time for professional help.  Professionals know how to help an elder better than I can in the last stage of life. When you have been caring for an elder, sometimes the hardest thing is to let go.  Be willing to let go...

Heck, when Dad falls down, I don't really know the best way to pull him back up.  But trained staff does.  I don't really know how to answer his really weird questions.  But trained staff does.

About all I can think of for now...

And Today

Today, Dad is fighting the move.  The bedroom will be too small, he won't like the food, he will be a minority, the staff won't be friendly, etc.  I will have him talk tomorrow to my sister who chose the place.

But it won't relieve his fears entirely.  He fears the change, and I understand that.  He is happy here.  Too happy.  I attend to his every needs.  What he doesn't really understand is that his needs are growing greater each month.

He doesn't realize that he is reducing his routine every week,  He used to watch any of 5 channels, now he he wants only 2.  His food preferences are diminishing.  He is struggling to get to the bathroom "on time".  He talks bizarrely, but he doesn't realize it. 

Last night, he said that being in an ALF (assisted living facility) in a town 10 miles away from other family was good because he "could bicycle or walk to visit them".  It doesn't get much crazier than that.  He couldn't "bicycle" away from a starving crippled alligator.

And he thinks the move is "too complicated".  OK, it isn't.  My brother and sister will drive down here and my brother will transport the bedroom furniture in his truck and sister will transport Dad.  He can't understand how simple that is to us.

He thinks none of us understand his investments.  I have been filing his investment papers for a year and arranged for his income taxes twice now.   I know them by heart better than he does.  He insists I can't possibly know "that stuff".  Well, of course I do.  10 years ago, he did too.  But not now.

This is going to be harder than I thought. 

I am reluctant to have him visit the place.  Yes, he might think it wonderful. But he is more likely to find trivial faults.

So, drive him 2 hours up to visit the place and 2 hours back, or not?  Pros and cons... 

The Decision

Well, the decision has been made.  An assisted living facility (ALF) has been chosen, I have forms to fill out, Dr appointments to make, etc.  The family has found a good place near most of them (out of my area).  Entry is available May 1st.

I am sad about all of this, of course, but relieved as well.  Dad needs more attention and care than I can continue to give without slipping into martyrdom.

There are so many things to plan. 

That doesn't mean that the several conversations with Dad were easy; they wern't.  But it does mean that HE accepts that he is going to need more physical assistance soon than I can provide.  I discussed that the precise costs depended on the level of care he needed and he asked what those were.  Oh thanks for smooth tranisitions and killer arguments...  When I said that the monthly care costs depended on whether someone could dress, bathe and use the bathroom themselves vs someone who couldn't, he blurted out "but pretty soon I'LL need that help"! 

And then he realized he was needing assisted living care soon.  I discussed waiting lists and the benefits of being where there was proffessional assistance just BEFORE he needed it.  He accepted that he needed to go to an ALF.

There are many more family members where he will be moving to than there are here (just me here and 6 where he is going).

He hasn't given up the struggle.  He raises trivial arguments.  It will be so complicated to move (no), he has so many billing addresses to change (no).  He needs to approve the bedroom (well, no, but only because its better than the one here).

He says he trusts my sister's judgement on the place (except he doesn't really).  He is afraid of something that I haven't gotten him to talk about yet.  We will discuss this again in the early afternoon when he is most alert.

My main purpose is to keep his focus on the positive aspects of moving to a good ALF.  The longer it goes with him accepting that he will be moving, the better it will be.

There will be some more awkward conversations the next few days, but every day without him saying "no" will be a good one.

The Last Years

The past couple of months have seen a substantial decrease in Dad’s ability to comprehend the world in general.  I am putting it that way to spare having to give all the details of previous posts.  He just doesn’t understand much of anything these days.  He has brief bursts of comprehension that make thinks awkward. 

He asked me today why he was having so much trouble moving around and why it was so hard just to get dressed.  He asked why he couldn’t understand documents and bills he gets in the mail.  Dad always taught me that honesty was the most important thing in his life.  I’m learned that well. 

I told him that his muscles are getting weaker and that his mind was not as sharp as it was 50 years ago.  Surely those are obvious things.  He said “No, that’s not the problem; I must have a disease”.

How do I explain his “disease” is just old age?  As in the plant analogy, I see Dad’s leaves falling everyday.  There aren’t many left to fall.  When I try to explain that he is “just plain old”, he denies it saying he is just fine.

I have started to visit assisted living facilities.  The first one, Morningside House was GREAT, but I see after looking over the details that they will soon get him to over $10,000 per month from the initial $5300.  The add-ons are outrageous.  They will charge him $1379/month for managing his 3 simple pill medications, $25/month for getting his meds (which cost only $2.50), $70 for every transportation to a DR, and they make a fortune for incontinence.  Its a wonderful place, but they will drain every dime from his pocket and discharge him when he is broke.  And Dad would never accept the basic cost anyway.  I had such high hopes for Morningside House until I (and my sister Susie) starting getting into the details.

I have an appointment with a simpler group house later today.  Sister Susie says the professionals she has talked to (she is professionally related to that work) say those are often much better at half the price, and Dad might accept that cost. 

I know a bit more after the Morningside House visit about what to look for.  Activities are good.  TV rooms are good.  But daily physical care for dressing and hygiene, basic meals, and assumed pill-giving are probably more important. 

Its hard just thinking about giving a parent over to assisted living care.  Telling your elder that it is time is harder.  Making the move is harder still.  I’m still just on that first action.

A Meaning

You may have guessed that yesterday’s post was an analogy.  If you did (and I have never quite learned subtlety) good for you.  Not everyone will... The seeds and young flowers and saplings are the children we raise.  The Fall is the time we change from raising our children to beginning to care for our parents. The Winter is the eldercare time, where we must care for our parents (disclaimer, I had no children, but at 16 to18, I did a lot to raise a new sister). 

Helping to raise my young sister was a joyful experience.  I changed more diapers than most real Dad’s back in the 60’s, did more baby-sitting than most teenage girls, pulled out bee-stingers, bandaged more scraped knees, and played more 4-8 years games than any teenage guy I ever met.  I didn’t mind it a bit, and I was a better guy for it.  I saw that flower grow and thrive.  She died in her “late Summer” of a genetic problem she was born with.  We were always close.

But Summer changed to Fall over the years, and first it was Mom who’s health failed.  It was rapid.  But now I have Dad, at 90.  He lingers like the old mature trees that keep managing to continue as they grow older, failing.  I have a tulip poplar that I have loved for 26 years.  It was mature when I moved here (like Dad).  It is failing (like Dad).  This Fall, it actually sent out a few new leaves out of season.  It is dying (like Dad).  It it trying hard to stay alive (like Dad).  But it is failing and there is nothing I or anyone else can do about it (like Dad).

The Garden

The Seasons

In the Spring, flowers and saplings appear.  Maybe they were your own seeds, maybe you got them elsewhere; it doesn’t matter.  When they are yours, you give them food and love and care.  It is joyful seeing them grow.  Every day, they seem more promising.  You can imagine how much sturdier they will be next month.  You can imagine how they will adapt to nature and thrive.  As you watch the first leaves opening, you can imagine the glorious beauty they will display one day.  And they do thrive.  Each month you see the changes and the changes are wonderful.

In the Summer, they burst forth with flowers.  You may be a bit tired from all the work involved, but it is worth it.  You are proud of what you have accomplished, and you are proud of them.  They really did most of the growing themselves, but your work mattered too.  You did your best to keep the weeds away, sometimes you supported them while they grew upright and healthy.  You made sure they had everything they needed that you could give them.  They are mature and beautiful!  You still try to keep some weeds away, but they are mostly doing great without your help.  Maybe there are a few fallen leaves, but they are in their prime and some new leaves grow.

You are changing from the nurturer of young plants to the protector of older ones.  It takes some time to realize this, but you do your best to adapt to the change.  As a gardener, you do what you must as best you can.

In the Fall, things are not going quite so well.  The bloom is off the flowers, they droop a bit, and they need bit of unexpected help from time to time.  But that OK, because they are still doing well overall.  In the late Fall, things are not so good.  They feel cold at nights, they aren’t flowering or growing new leaves, and the stalks and limbs are hardening.  In fact, the leaves are starting to fall

In the Winter, the leaves start to fall and are not replaced.  Flowerstalks become dry and bare.  The old trees slow down their activity.  The end of their season is coming, slowly at first, but relentlessly.  The last leaves fall from the trees; the last flowers die and fall.  No amount of care and assistance can stop that.  Eventually, a day comes when all activity ceases.  You face the sad truth that an end is coming in spite of all you do.

More tomorrow...

Assisted Living Facilities

I researched local assisted living facilities and eliminated most of them as places Dad wouldn't like.  Some were for active seniors, lots of visits to the shopping malls and bingo games.  Others were holistic medications or foods Dad does not like.

I narrowed it down to 2.  The one I visited today was a very professional place.  The one I will visit tomorrow is a small group home.  The place today seems perfect.  A personal bedroom/bathroom and community TV rooms, dining rooms, activity rooms, etc.  Seriously good onsite health care, transport to local Dr of choice, individual meals at common eating areas, groups living/TV rooms.

Own rooms ranging from 2 in a space to 2 full bedroom apartments.  Friendly caring staff, medical assistants onsite 24/7, etc.  They can easily move Dad from assisted living to the dementia living area when the time comes.I think this is the place.

I saw the staff checking on the residents in the commom TV room area about how they were doing and did they want any snacks, etc.  The staff seemed pleased to be there.  No hulking guys to force anyone around.

Personal attention to meal preferences and not just for medical reasons.  If a resident prefers chicken and pork chops most meals, that's what they get.   Preffered snacks too.  Good medical staff, onsite barber, room-cleaning, laundry, etc included.

Plenty of friendly residents to sit and watch TV with...

Large enough so that there is generally a new place available each month, so no waiting list. and no fee for being on one.

They go by personal Dr intructions (resident's Drs, not staff Drs). individual for each resident.

I think it is perfect for Dad.  I will bring Dad to visit there next week.  They will even give him a free haircut and he will like THAT!

I still feel guilty just planning this.  Like I'm planning to kick him out of the house.  The Morningside House Manager said that was a normal feeling (and I do know that).  But it still feels like kicking him out.  I know, I know.  I'm doing the best I can for him.  He has reached the point where he needs more personal care than I can give, and that's the deciding point.

One nice thing is that the Morningside House is right next to the Safeway I shop at.    That means that I can visit Dad each week and then do my food shopping.  Sounds almost trivial, but having a reason to be RIGHT THERE each week sure makes it part of a routine to visit regularly.  And I can bring him treats from the Safeway.

I doubt that the smaller group house is going to impress me tomorrow.  But I will give them a fair visit.  It might have some advantages.  But I doubt it.

Oh Boy...

Dr appointment for Dad's finger today at 2:30 pm today.  Dentist at 8 am tomorrow.  I go tour one assisted living facility at 2:30 pm tomorrow and another at 2:30 the next day.  Its not going to be "happy days".

Problems, Problems, Problems

First, as always,  I never mean to compare my problems to those who have really SERIOUS problems.  I'm generally fortunate on the REALLY BIG PROBLEMS.  But problems are problems and I get to complain...

Dad fell again a week ago.  One finger was really sore.  He never tells me these things at first.  It was obvious a finger joint was out of place.  So I called his dr and asked what I should do (treatment obviously but I wasn't sure who to go to first).  He said to bring dad to him for a referral to the x-ray lab next door.    I never get the building right!  It is building 11345, and there is a small building between 11340 and 11350.  You would THINK that is 11345.  It isn't.

So I dropped Dad at the curb and parked the car 100 yards away.  When I got back I discovered my error and we had to walk across the enclosure street.  And the buildings on THAT side all have the entrances on the backside of the buildings (Is that dumb or what?). 

Walking is not one of Dad's good points these days, so we had to walk slowly.  A friendly passerby offerred assitance and helped.  When we got to the street-side of the building I thought we wanted, I saw a open door, so I brought Dad in there as a shortcut.  Someone in there got a wheelchair for Dad and brought us right to the front desk.  It was the xray lab! 

An assistant there offerred to go next door to the DR and get the referral.  I applaud such kind helpful people!  Dad got his fingers xrayed and we were told to go home and the DR would call us.

The DR called and said the finger was broken at the joint.  Not really serious, just put a popsicle stick on it as a splint with adhesive bandages for a month.  It could be taken off for bathing and reattached.

Good Old Dad decided it wasn't worth the bother and it would heal on its own.  I considered my options.  I could beat him senseless and apply the splint, but he could still take it off on his own.  I could drug him and epoxy a splint to his finger.  I could try to scare him into allowing the splint. 

I opted for trying to scare him into allowing the splint (less chance of me ending up in jail that way).  I mentioned immobility from the joint healing fused.  I suggested infection.  I suggested gangrene.  His response was that it didn't seen that bad and he might not live all that long anyway!

The finger is swollen and there are bruises.  He refuses to go visit the DR and I can't actually drag him that far.  I'll wait watchfully.

Then he fell out of bed last night and landed on the same hand.  First time THAT has happened!  I got him back into bed.  Then spent the next hour awake in my own bed thinking of how to build a bed rail that would keep him from falling out yet allow him to get up to go to the bathroom at night.

But the next morning, I needed to go grocery shopping.  No lunchmeat and few veggies. 

Remember I brought Iza and Ayla to the vet Tuesday?  Well, I forgot to close the back of the SUV after taking the carriers out.  The battery was dead!  No grocery shopping today...

I did that last year once and the battery wouldn't fully recharge after being jump-started from a boat battery.  I had to get a new one.  Minor cost, but an annoying process.  I HATE sitting around a repair shop (the dealership) for an hour or two while they do a 5 minute job.  So I tried recharging this baterry.  It got to 63% charged by dinnertime (after the repair shop was closed) and no further!  It's dead.  And tomorrow is SATURDAY, so they will be super-busy. 

I will call them to see if they can replace the battery fast, but I may just go to an auto store and leave the car running while I buy a replacement there.  THEN go grocery shopping. 

I thought of a couple bed rails I can set up tonight, and I'll do that.  Dad is frightened of rolling out of bed again.  I also found some nice ones I can buy online and have delivered in a few days.  Dad is contradictory about this.  Afraid of falling out of bed again, but not willing to allow the more professional bed rail to be purchased.

This MAY be the tipping point of getting him into assisted-living care.  But if he won't spend $80 on a convenient fold down bed rail, I doubt he will agree to $5,000/month for assisted living.  He would be happier in many ways in assisted living and he can afford it just on his monthly annuity, but he is SO CHEAP!  But seriously, he is getting to the point where I can't take care of him as well as professionals could. 

Its time I just TELL him that I am going to visit some local assisted living places and see how good they are.  And then DO it.  I know what he might accept (to the extent that he would accept anything).  A simple bedroom/bathroom unit with a kitchenette for snacks, a common TV room where other residents are there to watch TV with and idle chatter, and meals with others on schedule.

I went and checked the battery charger.  It was still on 63% after 5 hours.  I turned it off and tried the engine.  It started right up, so I drove it around for 30 minutes to give it a shot at recharging the battery fully from the engine.  Safely in the garage, I turned it on and off twice and it seemed to work fine.  I guess I'll just put the 2 boat batteries in the back for possible jump-starting and hope for the best.  I still don't trust that battery.

When I got back, I set up the temporary bed rail I thought about for Dad.  He griped and fussed that it wasn't perfect (while still fearing falling out AND STILL not wanting a commercial version).  He is impossible to please.  But that's not new; he's always been that way.

Farewell Google Reader...

I use Google Reader, and Google is gong to shut it down July 1st.

I deliberately use different services from various providers because I don't want ANY of them to learn TOOO much about me.  I will suffer poorer quality service at the start to avoid control.  In the same way I left Microsoft to go to Apple, and Google Search for Bing, I will leave Google for some other reader service.

Google thinks it is too grand to leave.  They don't know me.  I will accept 2 star service in return for being CHERISHED by some new startup service provider.  And they are out there just waiting for those like me to give them a try.  I'll try them...

I always will.

What companies like Google DON'T realize is that there will always be competitor services, small start-ups that will someday become the IBMs/Microsofts/Googles of the future.

Google has decided that I am not worth their continued support.  If I owned stock in Google, I would sell it tomorrow.  (Disclaimer, I own index stocks and some may involve Google, but I don't know that).

I sometimes wonder how much some internet service providers understand about their users.  Do they really think they have a monopoly on any service?  Do they really think that their users can't move to other providers?

There IS such a thing as thinking you are "too big to fail".  That's exactly the point where a company SHOULD be broken up into constituent parts that compete.

Let's see how much better the parts of Google serve us, the users, when they get broken up into smaller competing units...

And back up your Google blog immediately.  I just did.  See instructions HERE.  Its tricky, but I did it and I'm no genius.  It did take some effort though.

Happy Gardening News!

The tomato seeds are up, the broccoli and cabbage seeds are up.

And I've been OUT in the flowerbeds doing some work!

Those black-eyed susans that I planted near the lower deck have been stubbornly migrating toward more sunlight for years.  So I decided to help them!  Today I dug up a patch of ground in the brightest area and dug out the roots of the maple tree the neighbors wont kill.  I turned the soil nicely and  moved 18 of them there.  (The Black eyed Susans)  I knoew the are suited for the spot because they have been TRYING to get there for years.

It was good hard work.  Up, down, up, down, dig, walk, plant, up down etc etc, etc,  I'll sure feel it tomorrow!  But it was great to DO that. The gardening season has begun outside!

The cats loved being outside with me too.  Marley and Iza ran all over the place and caught 2 mice.  Well, Ayla stayed inside.  Marley and Iza chase her when she is out.  I'm glad for the 2 outside, but I miss all 3 outside.

This is going to be a major redesign of the flowerbeds this year.  I've had too many spots of "6 of this, 6 of that".  I am dividing existing plants to make areas 10x10' of the same ones to get a larger view of the plants in flowers.  AND to leave large areas for annuals that I am growing under lights in the basement.

I used to grow 12 ech salvias, forgetmenots, carnations etc, but this year I have 36 each of many annuals.  And 60 marigolds.  Its hard to go wrong having a LOT of marigolds around here. They bloom fast and dont stop.

But this is going to be a year of dividing and moving around the successful perennials.  My favorite online nursery changed from cheap 6 packs to large individual pots last year tripling the price per plant and I told them I would use what I had instead of paying 3X the price.  So  I am.

I will be dividing the appropriate perennials I have in halves in the next few days and making larger areas of the same kinds.  They may not all bloom THIS year, but they sure will NEXT year!  And I was going in that direction anyway.  I'm liking the idea of larger areas of plants blooming rather than a cottage-garden style of small groups.

The plant-cuttings I rooted last Fall of butterfly bushes are growing well.  They will partly replace the aging existing ones, but I have may more than the replacements, so I think there will be a whole row of new ones in the sunnier front yard area.  Its hard to imagine anything better than plants that bloom from June to frost and attract butterflied and hummers.

I have 2 plants that are invasive,  Monarda and Lysimachia Firecracker.  They are going to be moved to the ridge in the middle of the back yard.  I can mow all around it, so they will never escape.  And they can fight it out to see which ones survive in the limited area (about 60' by 20").  I like the foliage and flowers of both, just not their invasive ways.

With the more open areas after the trees were cut back in January, there will be a lot more sunlight.  Good for the flowers and veggie gardens.  I won't miss the tall junk trees and I'll be planting smaller specimen trees in their place (that won't shade the gardens).  I'm thinking dogwoods, sourwoods, hollies, and star magnolias.  There is NO way they will ever shade the flowerbeds and veggie beds like the sweet gums and tulip poplars did.

And there STILL are majestic mature oaks, sweet gums, and tulip poplars here.  Its not like I cleared the yard.  I just cleared a Summer sunlight path VERY carefully.  I've lived here 27 years; I KNOW which of the trees were shading the garden.  They are gone, all the others remain.

Just Doing...

Risk online, Backgammon online, Cribbage online.  Blogging...  Anything to pretend I am living by myself again...  I wonder why all the other people play and stay up real late like this?

Playing Risk Online

Oh Wow, there were 5.  I had 1.8 million points, the higher ones had 9.8 million points and 5.8 million points.  The lower had 1.5 and .9 million points.  I won!  And I didnt even have good dice!  I actually did good stategic moves that worked.  Thats a rare evening so I will bask in the happiness (and good fortune) of it and not play again tonight...

Bask, Bask, Bask...

Oh drat, I should have taken a screen shot!

UPDATE:

Won 3 games in a row.  THAT won't happen again...  And from weak starts.  The God of Games was too kind to me tonight.

Retirement Anniversary

Retirement Day!  Well, it was technically Feb 28th, but today is the Monday I really felt it in 2006.


I left work without a party (my choice because I had been transferred to an office I hated that last 2 years).  I never cared what they did and they never had the slightest idea what I did.  The difference was that I could do what they did so easily and none of them (including the supervisor) could do what I did.

I know because, in spite of being new, I was the routine "acting" Division Director and I saw what they did.  Most of the time I was just amazed because what the others did was SO EASY!  And I learned, while "acting" that all the others in the Division could do their jobs in 2 hours a day while I was desperately trying to do mine in my allotted 8 hours and the time I spent at home.

I obviously chose the wrong specialty path...

OK, OK, I LOVED what I was doing, and that matters.  It was challenging, engaging, took a lot of varied skills, etc, etc, etc.  But I'm thinking that I could have accepted the Division Director job when it was offerred and stayed a couple more years, taking life easy at higher pay.

But retired life is SO much better and I have all I need in life...

So here's to retirement when you can do it and if you have something interesting to do during it!



Ya know what I hate?  Weekends.  The stores are all crowded and the roads are backed up.  Its almost like having to do routine food shopping the day before a snowstorm! 

We all had different daily work hours in my office, and mine was the latest.  On my last day at work, the last person shook my hand and left.  I could have left early that day, who would care, but I worked to the last minute.  I carried a box and one plant to the car.  And I drove off into the sunset, never to return...

When I got home, I walked into the house (It was Skeeter and LC back then) and said "well guys, I'm home forever...".

About a year later, I was advised by a friend that I had been replaced by 3 full time people and they were complaining about "all the work".  That was SO Sweet to hear (and my friend is brutally honest).

I'll sleep EXTRA well tonight...

Camera Troubles

A little over a week ago, Iza managed to knock my camera off a shelf and down the stairs  (SEE HERE).  It just wasn't working right when it worked at all.  I did some research and decided on a replacement.  The order confirmation came back with a delivery date of Feb 25-March 12, so I was delighted that it arrived yesterday.

Today, I opened the box to charge the battery, read the feature instructions, load the software, etc.  Oddly, I couldn't get the battery to fit in the charger.  Nor would it fit in the camera.  Its a special Li/Ion battery with a rectangular shape.  Checking the manual, I noticed that the required battery had a different model number than the battery in the box.

I called the retailer.  First, they said Canon only used one model  battery (NB-90).  Since I was holding an NB-5L and the manual listed an NB-4L, I knew THAT was wrong!  I finally convinced them that there was more than one battery type, and they checked.  Then they said they would be happy to send me the correct battery at no charge (gee, how kind of them).  And said "thank you for calling".

WHOA!  They didn't have my name, address, or order number, so I yelled "don't hang up"!  They (reluctantly it seemed) let me give them the order number and promised to ship the correct battery tomorrow and send an email confirmation.

Why do I have the feeling they won't...  I mean, they tried to get me off the phone without any idea where to send a new battery!  I fear I will have to return the whole package and demand a refund.  And then order a new camera.  And apparently there really aren't any more of this model available because there is a new version out (with all kinds of features I actively do not want (like a touch screen).

I already had crossed off the other cameras on the Consumer Reports list for various reasons, so I don't know what I would choose.

I sure hope they send me that replacement battery!

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Separate news...  A brother/sister littermate pair of cats lost their Bein suddenly and need a home.  They are in NJ right now awaiting their fate...  We are sure SOME of our readers have room for 2 sweet cats or may want to nicely domesticated ones as their first cats.  Please leave us a comment if you can help.

Neediness

Dad has become for needy of my physical presence lately.  It's not a new thing, but it has increased the past month.

He has previously been "lonely" if I do not sit with him in front of the TV, and sometimes he has suddenly walked around the house searching for me if he doesn't know where I am.  Its annoying.  Like the way a Mother can hardly go to the bathroom without toddlers banging on the door...

At least, with toddlers, you can expect them to grow out of it.  With an elder, you know it is only going to get worse.  It used to be that, if I got involved with yardwork or cleaning the basement, it would be a couple hours before Dad got worried about where I was.  I could always tell when I started hearing banging on the floor above going back and forth along the hall rapidly (for him).  So I would stop whatever I was doing and go upstairs to let him know I was around, remind him that I had told him I was working in the basement, and see if I could find him something interesting to watch on TV.

Then, I could return to what I was doing for a while with Dad at least remembering where I was in the house for another hour or two.

That time has shrunk to about 30 minutes.  I can't get away from him for very long.  Its not like I'm "hiding in the basement".  The gardening season is starting, and I am way behind in getting the place organized for the new season.  In previous years, I have kept the basement relatively organized; this past year, I have just not had the time.  It needed hours of cleanup and organization.  I have taken all the shortcuts I could since Dad arrived, and it caught up to me!

I've tried to do things an hour at a time, then spend enough time around Dad so that he knew I was there and go back to what I was doing in the basement.  I'm worn out...

The other problem that is getting worse is Dad expecting me to go do bed every night when he does.  He used to sometimes go to bed after me (and could turn off the lights and TV) .

And, BTW, I just did my 15 minutes of talking to Dad and "watching" his Fox News show, to comfort him with my presence.  I don't say that mockingly.  He needs a reminder of my presence to feel like he has not been abandoned.  Sometimes when I go out grocery-shopping, he is desperate for attention by the time I get back (about 1.5 hours from driving and shopping time).

I spent the last 30 years living by myself (with the various combinations of cats).  I LIKE living alone (with cats).  I used to just get up at 5 am, feed the cats, shower, dress, drive to meet my carpool, spend 9.5 hours at work, carpool back, drive home (after doing some brief grocery-shopping) by 6 pm.  I had 3, maybe 4 hours before I had to go to bed, and I spent a lot of the weekends sleeping.  I had to pack everything I wanted to do otherwise into those few weeknight and precious weekend hours.  Many of you do too.

I'm not used to accounting for my free time, in spite of so much more than I have now that I am retired.  But I was so happy with retired life and here is Dad dropped in...  I hate it.  I'm a responsible child, I always was (elder child syndrome).  I'm doing this because I "have" to.  I'm doing this because I should, I'm doing this because its "right", I'm doing this because because I was the right person to do it when the time came.  That doesn't mean I like it...

Well, yeah, few people like caring for an elder parent.  Its awkward, it changes the routine of life, it's difficult.  But am I right that MOST people who care for an elder parent are doing it with help from family?  A spouse, local children who visit, some old friends of the elder, your own friends who visit you and relate to the elder parent sometimes?

I don't.

I wish he really needed an "assisted-living facility".  He doesn't yet (by my unprofessional guess).  But I need him to need it. 

I live a rational, knowledgeable life.  I don't understand really what it means not to know how to do simple things like open curtains, flush a toilet, separate metal from compostable stuff in different containers,  read a simple 1099 tax document or a monthly bank statement, etc.  Answering the same questions about those things every single day is driving me nuts.  Sometimes, it is the same question 3 times in 15 minutes...

Nothing in my entire life has prepared me for this.

Iza Strikes Again!

Iza is very adept at catching tossed toys.  It is nearly impossible to hand-fake her.  At the same time, she is amazingly clumsy.  If she jumps up onto the table, she lands with the grace of a bag of sand.

So it should have been no surprise to me when she went to go from the tabletop to the half wall along the staircase.  And managed to almost go over the edge.  She didn't, but she managed to send my camera over the edge instead.  Eight feet down onto the hard wood...

When I checked it, the lens made a "geary" sound as it came out or back in.  I took a couple pictures and it seemed to work.  Then I realized that the case was slightly separated.  Pressing it firmly seemed to put it back together.  So I used it as usual (trying not to wince every time the lens made noise).

Then the lens refused to come out and there was a message about restarting the camera.  A few times of that not working I figured the camera was dead.  But there were pictures in the camera and it DID allow me to download them.  Whew!

Looking at them in iPhoto, the most recent ones (aka "after the fall") all looked a bit weird.  They were all a bit blurry.  OK, some didn't surprise me, since they were action shots of the cats (and it never has been very good at those).  But most were normal still shots.  I assume the image stabilization has been damaged.

THEN I realized that ALL the recent pictures were rotated 90 degrees!  The iPhoto software will rotate pictures, but only counter-clockwise, and NATURALLY, the camera had rotated them in that direction.  So I had to manually rotate about 50 pictures 3 times each.  And they were all a bit blurred anyway.

OK, I have to get a new camera...  I looked up subcompacts in Consumer Reports.  Quite frankly, even subcompacts are getting too fancy!  All I want is a fairly simple point and click, but one that does the point and click very well, has a better than average image stabilizer, takes good flash pictures, and has a rapid "next-shot" time (a real weakness with the current one).

I specifically didn't want top-quality video capability, a touch screen, and 20 different exposure settings, etc.  I decided on a Canon  Powershot Elph 310 HS and went to amazon.com to read more about it.  It uses an Li-Ion battery, and no matter how much I searched around, I could not find anyplace that said it was rechargable!  The replacement batteries cost $10 and I sure wasn't going to keep putting a new one in every 200 shots! 

I gave up for the night and looked again today.  I finally found that there is a battery charger included with the camera, so I went back to amazon to order it.  Would you believe the price went up $40 overnight?  Apparently, there is a newer version coming out next week (with things I do not want) and the few places that had any of the 310 version left all jacked up the price.

I looked at the other models on the Consumer Reports list, but one had a poor optical zoom, another had a touch screen, another had good video but average flash stills, etc.

I grumbled a while and ordered the 310...

Dad, Crazy

Last night, I was watching TV with Dad, only to be companionable.  He suddenly looked over at me and went "What the hell is that ANIMAL on your lap.  It was one of the cats of course.  I said it was Iza.  He said but what is an animal doing in the house? 

???

He thought it was a wild animal.  Never mind that Ayla, Iza, and Marley have been in the house all the 9 months Dad has been here.  Tonight, he didn't recall them.  Worse, he lost the concept of domesticated animal.

It is terrible watching a person lose their mind...

Playing Risk

Risk is a brutal board game.  4 or 5 players all determined to obliterate you country by country, continent by continent.

I often join games in progress in weak positions because, quite frankly, improving a position is more fun to me than winning outright, and on rare occasions I do win. 

Tonight I won a terrible brutal nerve-racking game right on the last battle, and I recalled a Gahan Wilson cartoon from many years ago.  I love the clean unlethal internet/boardgames, but I always keep in mind that there is a reality of what the game is about.

I always think of this...

"I THINK I WON"!


Gahan Wilson was a genious...

Its Going To Be A Long Unhappy Night

Iza and Ayla have to get their annual vet visits this time of year.  They were both scheduled for them last Friday but things went wrong.  I put out the PTUs  (Prisoner Transport Units) or "Cat-Carriers" for those of you who don't read "cat" early in the morning.   

Marley wasn't a catch, but he had just been to the vet in one, so he panicked.  Iza seemed pretty relaxed.  Ayla was nowhere in sight as soon as the PTUs came out.  But there were hours to go...

The appointment was for 3 pm, and the vet is only 10 minutes away, so at 2:30 I picked up Iza to put her in the larger PTU.  She fought harder than usual, so it took almost 10 minutes of hard grabbing and brute strength to get her inside and locked in.  She complained a lot afterwards.

Ayla was nowhere to be found.  If she wasn't in DEEP-HIDING just seeing the PTU, she sure was after Iza yelled a lot!  I searched the house top to bottom with a flashlight under every bed, every closet, and all the hidey-holes I knew about.  Apparently, she has some I don't know about.  After 20 minutes, I had to give up and just take Iza to the vet.

That was bad enough, but they both needed FIV shots started because after a year of them being indoors, I relented last Fall and let them outside again.  The shots have to be established 3 times (one shot every 2 weeks).  Marley had just finished him series, and I was royally tired of bringing any one to the vet every 2 weeks. 

Not bringing Ayla in at the same time as Iza means that they are both now on separate every-other-week schedules.  The vet says they CAN allow some overlap so I can get them both on the same schedule for the future shots, but getting them BOTH into PTUs the next time may be as impossible as this time was. 

I MAY have to just get used to taking them all to the vet one at a time!

Even worse is getting the stool samples for the annual exam.  I was lucky with Marley.  He obligingly pooped while I was in the basement in sight of the litter pans the day before his exam.  No such luck with Iza or Ayla.

So when I brought Iza to the vet last Friday, no stool sample.

Tonight is different.  I have enclosed Ayla in the basement with a clean litter box, food, and water, and a bed.  Iza is enclosed in my bedroom with the same.  Iza is in the bedroom because she demands to be near me more at night than Ayla does.  Marley sleeps out on the cat trees at night until dawn.  Of course, because Ayla is enclosed in the basement where the litter boxes usually are, I have a litter box at the bottom of the stairs for him. 

EVERYONE is going to be upset and unhappy all night.  Ayla in the basement, Iza in the bedroom, Marley not in the bedroom (and none of them able to sleep together or with me except Iza).  Its all a mess but the only way I can get the stool samples identified by cat.

I can best hope that both Ayla and Iza decide to poop in their respective enclosed rooms before I go to bed.  Oh happy thought.  But unlikely!  In the past (and I've gone through this before but not in such a complicated way) it has taken both about 12 hours before they would deign to poop after being so upset and restricted.  

My elderly Dad (who lives here now) says he can't imagine why I put myself through this for just a couple of "damn cats"and all the expense).  When  asked him why he used to have a boat that could only be described as "a hole in the water you through money into", he said he enjoyed the boat.  Well, I like my cats.    And a good bit more than he liked the boat.  Reminding him of all those nice weekend Summer days we spent scraping barnacles off the bottom of the boat and repainting/patching it endlessly didn't get through to him at all. 

But Dad complains about my aquarium, my garden, and flowerbeds, so there isn't much that makes him think effort is worthwhile except HIS favorite thing (watching golf). 

BTW, when he lived on his own, he watched golf when he could on his smallish old TV.  When he moved here with me, he commented that the HDTV was great.  Now that he is used to it, he thingks it is a waste of money.  If I dragged in an old 25" CRT TV like he used to have, he would gripe all day.

But this is about the cats, and I will not sleep well tonight knowing they are all separated from each other and 2 of them from me.  I hate this...

February Made Me Shiver...

With Every Paper I Delivered....

Yes, there was a time when I delivered newspapers.  A friend had built up a serious newspaper delivery route, and on Sundays, he needed extra help.  I signed on when I was 16.

The first part of the job was stuffing the special Sunday Section (comics, ads, etc) into the regular parts (news, etc).  This was back in the olden days when Sunday Comics where delivered on Sunday.  So 3 of us would be brought to a warehouse and stuff the 2 together for an hour for delivery to doorsteps.  And I mean "doorsteps".  None of that "out by the mailbox stuff" then.

Then there were the papers for the newstands (definition:  "newstands"  Places that sold multiple newspapers and people went and bought them there every morning and afternoon).  Sort of like 7-11s without food.  I would get dropped in a hallway next to the newstand with bundles of comics and separate bundles of "Section As", so to speak, and a wire clipper (they came wired in bundles).

I spent 3 hours each Sunday night stuffing the 2 together for newstand sale.  I was lucky.  I had a transistor radio that could get WBZ talk AM from Boston  On REALLY good nights, I could get a Chicago AM station that played Beach Boys music.

Just about the time I could stuff the sections together as fast as possible, the friend would come by from part on his delivery route and we would take half my stuffed newspapers for further delivery.  I had been doing the Baltimore Sun. The 3rd guy had been doing the other Baltimore newspaper (the News American?).  But I was faster to deliver stuffed papers so I got more work hours.

So I would be in the back of the van putting rubber bands around the papers of both types as we went to the final delivery routes.  My friend had the deliveries memorized.  He would say on one street "double, Sun, Sun, skip, Sun, American" (or whatever the street requiered) and I would have to scoop up the right combinations and run along the street putting them on the doorsteps as he drove along..

Except where people had specific requests like in their milkbox or between their door and storm door.

The worst time was when there was 2 feet of snow on the ground AND I had a horrible cold.  You'ld think that would have killed me.  But at 16, nothing kills you, you think.  I broke a bad fever running in and out of a van tramping through heavy snow, in the cold temps.  I felt just fine the next morning when everyone at home was sick as dogs!

So I know about delivering newspapers.

I never read them (except for the sunday comics).  So I didn't know (or care) "when the music died".  I was delivering the newspapers uncaring about the contents.  I didn't care then.

I do now.

Buddy Holly died February 3rd, 1959.  I'm sorry I was 2 days late remembering it.