I was impressed! They are professionals, and have pride in their work.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
The New Outside, 2
The debris was amazing!
They cleaned everything up every day.
They could have waited to the end of the work. I would have thought that OK. But they like to leave the place clean every day.
I was impressed! They are professionals, and have pride in their work.
I was impressed! They are professionals, and have pride in their work.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
The New Outside, 1
OK, I took enough pictures of the changing of the outside of the house, so I an sure going to show them!
This is how bad the siding looked. It got so abraded in 26 years that the mildew couldn't be blasted off with housewash spray and pressuse rinse. It would look good for a month, then mildew grew again (the front faces north, so no sunlight to kill mildew).
I tried sprays, I tried mopping, I gave up. Vini, Vica, Surrendre! And 26 years of blue was enough anyway.
"There is a time, (turn turn turn)
To have a new look (turn turn turn)
To have another color, under the sun."
"A time for a change,
A time for new,
A time for color other than blue,
A time to re-flect a new clean of viewing."
So the guys are stripping the old siding off. They really knew their business. Without words, they moved together or apart to do the job perfectly!
I knew the house was built badly just by living here. But I learned new shortcuts about it when the old siding was pulled off. See the raw plywood? That was all supposed to have been covered with insulation. It wasn't. But when the house was buit in 1986, I could only visit on weekends. I didn't see that part done poorly.
The new work was what the old work SHOULD have been. Insulation put on every square foot. And the guys tapped every spot to make sure that they nailed not just into the sheathing, but the interior wall studs for greater strength.
They did such GREAT work. Watching them measure the flashings around the windows (as they took the old stuff OFF was wonderful. They checked the levels of all windows several tines before they attached anchors for the new trim and siding.
I knew as I watched them merely REMOVE the siding, that they knew what they were doing!
This is how bad the siding looked. It got so abraded in 26 years that the mildew couldn't be blasted off with housewash spray and pressuse rinse. It would look good for a month, then mildew grew again (the front faces north, so no sunlight to kill mildew).
I tried sprays, I tried mopping, I gave up. Vini, Vica, Surrendre! And 26 years of blue was enough anyway.
"There is a time, (turn turn turn)
To have a new look (turn turn turn)
To have another color, under the sun."
"A time for a change,
A time for new,
A time for color other than blue,
A time to re-flect a new clean of viewing."
I knew the house was built badly just by living here. But I learned new shortcuts about it when the old siding was pulled off. See the raw plywood? That was all supposed to have been covered with insulation. It wasn't. But when the house was buit in 1986, I could only visit on weekends. I didn't see that part done poorly.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Dad
Dad:
I mentioned last time that "Dad is losing his mind first (though physical incompetence is catching up rapidly)." Dad thinks his biggest problems are that he can't get his feet to move easily, that he forgets individual words, and that he doesn't get much sleep.
If only he knew... He can't move his feet because his weight is planted firmly on both of them. He can't do the "shift weight to one foot, fall forward slightly, and swing the unweighted foot forward" that is walking. When I suggest a cane, he refuses saying it wouldn't help. When I suggest he just try a simple piece of closet pole (no cost involved) as a quick test, he refuses. He has two walkers; one a 4 wheel type that can be a simple pushable wheelchair, the other a dedicated walker with 2 wheels in front for pushing. He looks at thos every couple dsys, but will not try them out.
I understand why. In the immediate sense, using them is the final surrender to old age. In an indirect sense, Mom used a walker, then went to assisted living, then died. Using a walker would be an acceptance of the sequence.
It sure makes life awkward though. He is SO slow moving through the house without support! Fortunately, the living area of the house has a circular design, so I can always go around him by walking through the other rooms. Its usually much faster.
I don't want these posts about Dad's problems to seem like criticism or humor. Yes, I sometimes fail to understand how he can think or do something so obviously non-sensical, and yes, I often make light of some really difficult conversations or actions. Frustration slips in between the lines sometimes. I'm doing this partly as a record of events, and partly so that others may see these things developing with their own elderly parents and understand its not unique. There are patterns...
The latest...
1. Dad has been either putting used food dishes in the sink or washing them and puting them in the dishwasher for months. Today, he suddenly asked where to put ihis used coffee cup because the dishwasher was running. I said "in the sink". In the sink was a small tupperware container with a few small cat food bowls soaking in soapy water. He said the sink was "full". When I said there was plenty of room in the sink, he tried to push the coffee cup into the full tupperware container. Seeing his confusion, I said to just put the coffee cup next the the container and I would take care of it.
2. Sometimes before Noon, Dad will ask if I plan to make lunch that day. Not that I've ever not made him lunch. But lately, the conversation goes either of two directions.
A. Version one, when I present him with his sandwich and pickle/chips/carrotsticks/etc, he asks if I have made one for myself too. Its an odd question because I make one large sandwich (my bread loaves are large) and cut it in half for each of us. If there is one half a sandwich, there must be a 2nd half.
B. Version two, when he sees me making our lunch sandwich, he asks "are you making one for me too"? Again, 4 months, and I have never failed to make his sandwich. Now, that could be an attempt at humor. But humor has certain inflections and facial expressions designed to clue us in on a joke. He looks slightly woried, so its not that. He's actually worried I won't feed him.
3. The yellow box on the toolshed... Dad is constantly asking me weird questions about things he thinks he sees outside. Today, he asked what "that yellow box on the side of the toolshed was". He described where it was by referencing parts of the shed and giving directions from those. I can usually figure out what he is looking at. Never mind that IF there was a yellow box attached to the toolshed (150' away) , I would surely know about it... If a sparrow fell on the roof, I would notice. I can see when there is a hummingbird at the feeder on the toolshed. There was no yellow box on the toolshed. None. At all.
4. Dishwasher... If you or I were visiting a friend and added dinner plates to the dishwasher helping to clean up, we would notice the the host placed plates in one area, bowls in another, glasses in another, etc. Dad can't see patterns anymore. He puts stuff in the dishwasher anywhere (when he tries) randomly. I don't mind that much, but when he catches me rearranging things, he acts disrespected. He nests spoons together, too (dangerous). My point is that he can't detect patterns or organizations, and he was an engineer. Among the many abilities he has lost, his sense of logical organization may be the saddest.
5. Did you notice details in the picture of Dad outside at the top? He complains about being cold in the house, wearing shorts and a thin golf shirt. I keep the house at 74F (too warm for me too cold to him). But I have learned to wear shorts and light shirts to adjust as best I can (my perfect temperature is 70). Notice that ir was 82F outside. Dad put on a sweater to go outside in warmer temperature! When he came back inside, he took the sweater OFF and complained about being cold again.
You know, he used to live in NH. He knows how to dress for the cold. He just WON'T anymore. I bought 3 nice light long sleeved shirts today. Technically, they are for me. But maybe I can get Dad to try wearing them.
I can't believe its only been 4 months, it seems like Dad has been here a year...
I mentioned last time that "Dad is losing his mind first (though physical incompetence is catching up rapidly)." Dad thinks his biggest problems are that he can't get his feet to move easily, that he forgets individual words, and that he doesn't get much sleep.
If only he knew... He can't move his feet because his weight is planted firmly on both of them. He can't do the "shift weight to one foot, fall forward slightly, and swing the unweighted foot forward" that is walking. When I suggest a cane, he refuses saying it wouldn't help. When I suggest he just try a simple piece of closet pole (no cost involved) as a quick test, he refuses. He has two walkers; one a 4 wheel type that can be a simple pushable wheelchair, the other a dedicated walker with 2 wheels in front for pushing. He looks at thos every couple dsys, but will not try them out.
I understand why. In the immediate sense, using them is the final surrender to old age. In an indirect sense, Mom used a walker, then went to assisted living, then died. Using a walker would be an acceptance of the sequence.
It sure makes life awkward though. He is SO slow moving through the house without support! Fortunately, the living area of the house has a circular design, so I can always go around him by walking through the other rooms. Its usually much faster.
I don't want these posts about Dad's problems to seem like criticism or humor. Yes, I sometimes fail to understand how he can think or do something so obviously non-sensical, and yes, I often make light of some really difficult conversations or actions. Frustration slips in between the lines sometimes. I'm doing this partly as a record of events, and partly so that others may see these things developing with their own elderly parents and understand its not unique. There are patterns...
The latest...
1. Dad has been either putting used food dishes in the sink or washing them and puting them in the dishwasher for months. Today, he suddenly asked where to put ihis used coffee cup because the dishwasher was running. I said "in the sink". In the sink was a small tupperware container with a few small cat food bowls soaking in soapy water. He said the sink was "full". When I said there was plenty of room in the sink, he tried to push the coffee cup into the full tupperware container. Seeing his confusion, I said to just put the coffee cup next the the container and I would take care of it.
2. Sometimes before Noon, Dad will ask if I plan to make lunch that day. Not that I've ever not made him lunch. But lately, the conversation goes either of two directions.
A. Version one, when I present him with his sandwich and pickle/chips/carrotsticks/etc, he asks if I have made one for myself too. Its an odd question because I make one large sandwich (my bread loaves are large) and cut it in half for each of us. If there is one half a sandwich, there must be a 2nd half.
B. Version two, when he sees me making our lunch sandwich, he asks "are you making one for me too"? Again, 4 months, and I have never failed to make his sandwich. Now, that could be an attempt at humor. But humor has certain inflections and facial expressions designed to clue us in on a joke. He looks slightly woried, so its not that. He's actually worried I won't feed him.
3. The yellow box on the toolshed... Dad is constantly asking me weird questions about things he thinks he sees outside. Today, he asked what "that yellow box on the side of the toolshed was". He described where it was by referencing parts of the shed and giving directions from those. I can usually figure out what he is looking at. Never mind that IF there was a yellow box attached to the toolshed (150' away) , I would surely know about it... If a sparrow fell on the roof, I would notice. I can see when there is a hummingbird at the feeder on the toolshed. There was no yellow box on the toolshed. None. At all.
4. Dishwasher... If you or I were visiting a friend and added dinner plates to the dishwasher helping to clean up, we would notice the the host placed plates in one area, bowls in another, glasses in another, etc. Dad can't see patterns anymore. He puts stuff in the dishwasher anywhere (when he tries) randomly. I don't mind that much, but when he catches me rearranging things, he acts disrespected. He nests spoons together, too (dangerous). My point is that he can't detect patterns or organizations, and he was an engineer. Among the many abilities he has lost, his sense of logical organization may be the saddest.
5. Did you notice details in the picture of Dad outside at the top? He complains about being cold in the house, wearing shorts and a thin golf shirt. I keep the house at 74F (too warm for me too cold to him). But I have learned to wear shorts and light shirts to adjust as best I can (my perfect temperature is 70). Notice that ir was 82F outside. Dad put on a sweater to go outside in warmer temperature! When he came back inside, he took the sweater OFF and complained about being cold again.
You know, he used to live in NH. He knows how to dress for the cold. He just WON'T anymore. I bought 3 nice light long sleeved shirts today. Technically, they are for me. But maybe I can get Dad to try wearing them.
I can't believe its only been 4 months, it seems like Dad has been here a year...
Friday, September 14, 2012
Dementia?
I thought I knew what dementia meant. I thought it was about forgetting things. I thought if someone had it REAL bad they tended to wander away or forget who you were and that was Alzheimer's.
Well I was wrong. I didn't realize the degree of unreasonable self-orientation involved in dementia!
I've gotten used to Dad breaking in with a trivial question involving past or future events while I am trying to get dinner on the table. I am used to him bugging me about having lunch ready promptly at noon and dinner at 6 pm. He was ALWAYS fussy about schedules.
I am used to him complaining unsensibly. If the TV shows a poor news video, he complains that my (Big Screen HD Plasma 1080) TV is poor quality. If there isn't anything he wants to watch, he complains I have a poor cable system (1,000 and "57 channels and nothings on"...). The sink water doesn't get hot immediately.
My favorite last week was that he needed a calendar because he couldn't tell what day it was. He couldn't figure out why looking at a calendar wouldn't tell him what day it was.
But today was a new low. I don't mean that he said he had another family for a decade or that I wasn't his son. Not THAT level.
But... I have people here putting new siding on the house. Its noisy work, and they have a job to do. Dad is normally happy watching Fox News and listening to the talking heads. I've been mostly staying outside watching them work (its fascinating), and I make sure to ask Dad how things are going every hour or so.
Well, apparently Fox News was replaying a speech by Paul Ryan and all the hammering annoyed him. When I came in, Dad was ANGRY. "They should have stopped all the hammering during his speaking (sic), out of respect"!
Me: "What?!?
Dad: "They should have stopped when someone important was speaking"!
Me: "Dad, they have a job to do. They have a schedule".
Dad: "It was disrespectful"!
Me: "Dad, you're being unreasonable. They didn't know someone was speaking and they wouldn't stop working if they did. I don't care if a politician is speaking. Most of the world wouldn't care. People have to keep doing their jobs.
Dad: "YOU'RE NOT UNDERSTANDING ME! THIS WAS IMPORTANT"!
US: (Some repetitive back-and-forth angry/calming words)
Me: "Dad, please sit down, watch your political TV. I'm busy!" (leaves house)
I was completely surprised by the whole event. I accept the daily forgetfulness, I accept his confusion about bills, etc (and I can deal with that); but I hadn't seen the irrationality involving a real-time event on such a personal level before. And it wasn't at sundown...
Mom became physically unable while still mentally competent. Dad is losing his mind first (though physical incompetence is catching up rapidly).
More about all that next time.
Monday, September 10, 2012
This Day
No terrible act is remembered forever in history. But I will remember THIS day 11 years ago all MY life.
December 7, 1941 is etched in my memory, though I was not alive them. I know it from history, but what was recent history to me when I aged enough.
November 22, 1963 is part of my childhood memory as a day of great sadness. I remember looking up at the public address system of the school when it was announced that the President had been killed. The PA box was blonde wood, rounded square shaped, slightly wider at the top than the bottom, with brown cloth covering the speaker. You remember the strangest things sometimes.
I was older of course on 9-11. The day started with an announcement on the radio about a small plane crashing into a World Trade Center Building. I mentioned it in passing to my supervisor. The next few reports made it seem worse.
Then I felt a THUMP under my feet at 9:37. I didn't know that the Pentagon had been struck. But I realized after that, that I had felt the strike. I happened to look at my watch. Seared in memory.
My govt office had some Emergency Management functions, so there was a special TV in a conference room. Most of us ended up in there. I was out on the roof at the time the first Tower went down, so I didn't see it in real time.
I saw the 2nd Tower go down though. Most thought it a replay of the 1st Tower, but I saw the difference and called attention to it. We all stared in horror.
There are evil vicious cruel acts occurring all over the world on a daily basis. Victims have their lives shattered every day. No one is free of them. I will not make guesses on "worst".
There are reasons given for all destructive killing acts. Most of them are pathetically weak. But some are more unsensible and evil than others.
I have a background in history. Phenomenally and nearly innumerable horrible acts abound through the ages. Pol Pot, Nazis, Colonialism, Inquisitions, Witch-Burnings, European Christian Crusades, Islamist invasions, Mongol and Hun attacks, Viking slaughters, and back on through the lost times of history. No age is free of vicious and pointless deaths.
But I will remember 9-11 all my life with a line I read in the book 'Dune'. "Never forgive, never forget".
But I should. When I read about some cultural group angry about something that happened 500 years ago, I have to wonder about the "never forgetting" part. There was the December 7th attack, but we think of Japan as an ally now. As Germany is a democracy now, as is Italy. Forgiveness is possible.
There may be a day when I will forgive the Islamists for the 9-11 attack.
But today is not that day.
December 7, 1941 is etched in my memory, though I was not alive them. I know it from history, but what was recent history to me when I aged enough.
November 22, 1963 is part of my childhood memory as a day of great sadness. I remember looking up at the public address system of the school when it was announced that the President had been killed. The PA box was blonde wood, rounded square shaped, slightly wider at the top than the bottom, with brown cloth covering the speaker. You remember the strangest things sometimes.
I was older of course on 9-11. The day started with an announcement on the radio about a small plane crashing into a World Trade Center Building. I mentioned it in passing to my supervisor. The next few reports made it seem worse.
Then I felt a THUMP under my feet at 9:37. I didn't know that the Pentagon had been struck. But I realized after that, that I had felt the strike. I happened to look at my watch. Seared in memory.
My govt office had some Emergency Management functions, so there was a special TV in a conference room. Most of us ended up in there. I was out on the roof at the time the first Tower went down, so I didn't see it in real time.
I saw the 2nd Tower go down though. Most thought it a replay of the 1st Tower, but I saw the difference and called attention to it. We all stared in horror.
There are evil vicious cruel acts occurring all over the world on a daily basis. Victims have their lives shattered every day. No one is free of them. I will not make guesses on "worst".
There are reasons given for all destructive killing acts. Most of them are pathetically weak. But some are more unsensible and evil than others.
I have a background in history. Phenomenally and nearly innumerable horrible acts abound through the ages. Pol Pot, Nazis, Colonialism, Inquisitions, Witch-Burnings, European Christian Crusades, Islamist invasions, Mongol and Hun attacks, Viking slaughters, and back on through the lost times of history. No age is free of vicious and pointless deaths.
But I will remember 9-11 all my life with a line I read in the book 'Dune'. "Never forgive, never forget".
But I should. When I read about some cultural group angry about something that happened 500 years ago, I have to wonder about the "never forgetting" part. There was the December 7th attack, but we think of Japan as an ally now. As Germany is a democracy now, as is Italy. Forgiveness is possible.
There may be a day when I will forgive the Islamists for the 9-11 attack.
But today is not that day.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Dadisms
Salad dressing is "paste".
The cats are "dogs" and they (2 female 1 male) are all "he".
Paper clips are "safety pins". Or do I have that backwards? He wanted safety pins for his pajamas and saw paper clips, thinking they were safety pins.
Any pile of brown leaves in the back yard is a "groundhog".
The paperclip/safetypin one was the strangest this week. He came out looking for safety pins. He said he had seen 2 on the dining room table. For those of you with organized rooms and lifestyles, I should mention that our "dining table" is only partially for eating at. Its also our general desk for bills and newspapers, etc. So after Dad fussed around with his bills and seemed to be trying to attach them together, it occurred to me that Dad might actually be looking for paperclips, of which there ARE 2 on the table, but hidden behind the napkins.
So I picked them up and showed them, asking if these were what he was looking for. He said "yes" so I dropped the matter. For a minute...
He WAS actually looking for safety pins, and thought the paperclips WERE safety pins. 5 minutes of awkward discussion followed. Wherein I finally learned that he really DID want 2 safety pins for his pajamas, and he was convinced that the 2 paperclips I showed him were what he needed. I'm used to him getting the wrong word for things, but not the wrong actual object!
The low point of the discussion was DAD: "I've been alive a lot longer than you, and I know what a safety pin is (looking at the paperclips)!
OOO-KAY... He finally mentioned there were safety pins on the pajamas in his hamper. So I got them and he went off and did whatever he wanted the safety pins for (I haven't asked - YET).
Thats when I noticed his toenails are all about an inch long... I hadn't seen him barefoot. Got to do something about that, since I guess he can't reach his feet anymore. I don't mind clipping them for him, but you would think he would have mentioned it before. Or not. I'm still learning to be a caretaker.
Its all quite confusing. Every day is a new learning experience. In one way, that's good for me; new challenges are good for the mind. Clipping Dad's toenails might not be quite the mental experience I would choose. But what needs to be done WILL be done...
Well, some day I may have to help him wash in the tub or even wipe his butt. I can wait... Computer games are a sufficient mind challenge for now. But it seems I'll be getting different challenges than I expected soon.
The cats are "dogs" and they (2 female 1 male) are all "he".
Paper clips are "safety pins". Or do I have that backwards? He wanted safety pins for his pajamas and saw paper clips, thinking they were safety pins.
Any pile of brown leaves in the back yard is a "groundhog".
The paperclip/safetypin one was the strangest this week. He came out looking for safety pins. He said he had seen 2 on the dining room table. For those of you with organized rooms and lifestyles, I should mention that our "dining table" is only partially for eating at. Its also our general desk for bills and newspapers, etc. So after Dad fussed around with his bills and seemed to be trying to attach them together, it occurred to me that Dad might actually be looking for paperclips, of which there ARE 2 on the table, but hidden behind the napkins.
So I picked them up and showed them, asking if these were what he was looking for. He said "yes" so I dropped the matter. For a minute...
He WAS actually looking for safety pins, and thought the paperclips WERE safety pins. 5 minutes of awkward discussion followed. Wherein I finally learned that he really DID want 2 safety pins for his pajamas, and he was convinced that the 2 paperclips I showed him were what he needed. I'm used to him getting the wrong word for things, but not the wrong actual object!
The low point of the discussion was DAD: "I've been alive a lot longer than you, and I know what a safety pin is (looking at the paperclips)!
OOO-KAY... He finally mentioned there were safety pins on the pajamas in his hamper. So I got them and he went off and did whatever he wanted the safety pins for (I haven't asked - YET).
Thats when I noticed his toenails are all about an inch long... I hadn't seen him barefoot. Got to do something about that, since I guess he can't reach his feet anymore. I don't mind clipping them for him, but you would think he would have mentioned it before. Or not. I'm still learning to be a caretaker.
Its all quite confusing. Every day is a new learning experience. In one way, that's good for me; new challenges are good for the mind. Clipping Dad's toenails might not be quite the mental experience I would choose. But what needs to be done WILL be done...
Well, some day I may have to help him wash in the tub or even wipe his butt. I can wait... Computer games are a sufficient mind challenge for now. But it seems I'll be getting different challenges than I expected soon.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Roof Replacement
Well, it sure got noisy around here today. Last week, a branch fell and poked a small hole in the roof, so I had a person come out to take a look at it. He did a quick patch job, but we discussed a fuller replacement job because the "20 year" shingles were 26 years old. I found him on Angie's List and he had top ratings in every category, so I decided to get a quote for replacing the shingles. roofing paper, and any plywood sheathing that needed it in his opinion.
And since the vinyl siding was the same age, and abraded by weather to the point were even pressure cleaning it every few months left it dirty and ugly, I got a quote for new siding and gutters with covers.
The roof work was done today. The crew did a thorough efficient job and the crew manager explained what they were doing every step of the way. The siding has to wait about a week, because the trim color I selected had to be special ordered.
There really isn't too much to show about a roof job. It's too flat (and high) to get any really good pictures.
It was amazing watched them go up and down the ladder, walk along the edge of the roof, toss stuff up to the roof from the ground, etc, though.
Here is a guy shoving plywood sheathing up a ladder. I would have difficulty just carrying the plywood on the ground!
And if I was the guy on the top, there is NO possibility I could get it the rest of the way up.
So "let it rain"!
I can't wait for the new siding and covered gutters...
And since the vinyl siding was the same age, and abraded by weather to the point were even pressure cleaning it every few months left it dirty and ugly, I got a quote for new siding and gutters with covers.
The roof work was done today. The crew did a thorough efficient job and the crew manager explained what they were doing every step of the way. The siding has to wait about a week, because the trim color I selected had to be special ordered.
There really isn't too much to show about a roof job. It's too flat (and high) to get any really good pictures.
It was amazing watched them go up and down the ladder, walk along the edge of the roof, toss stuff up to the roof from the ground, etc, though.
I can't wait for the new siding and covered gutters...
Monday, August 27, 2012
Ack. Roof Problem!
You never know when you will discover a house problem. I happened to reach for a book on the top shelf of the bookcase, and a "wrong" image caught my eye. You live in a house for 26 years and you know every square inch of it...
There was a slightly off-color spot on the living room ceiling. I looked at it a few minutes, then backed away across the room. A 3' area sagged about an inch. I got up into the attic...
The attic is not my favorite area. I always expect that hornets will have moved in, or squirrels, or knife-wielding people with masks. Its been a year at least since I was up there. Its "The Land of Old Boxes and Junk". Ayla loves to climb ladders, and even she won't go up there!
Years ago, I put plywood sheets down on the center of the attic. I meant to do the other half, but there were problems with wiring going over the joists and I put it off. I should have finished the work.
Because when I got up there and crab-walked over the joists to where the possible leak was, I found one! One drop per minute while it was raining yesterday. When the rain stopped, so did the drips.
So I looked around for a wide pan to catch the drips so they wouldn't soak the plaster ceiling any more. I found an unused cat litter pan in the basement and went back in the attic with a piece of plywood scrap to span the joists to support the pan to collect the drips.
You know how, any time you find a good solution, a better comes to mind after? I was looking around for a large wide container to catch drips and settled on a kitty litty pan. Well, when I went to bed that night, I was staring at a HUGE plastic storage bin that would hold about 20 gallons!
I'm usually smarter than that about thinking of the best things to use. But fortunately the rain is stopped for a week, so the need to get back up into the attic with the larger container is delayed.
I had a roofing expert come to the house today. He was REALLY NICE! He got up on the roof, examined the spot, and saw that a tree branch had fallen onto the roof and punctured the plywood slightly. Small hole, slow leak. Ans his best guess that even a hurricane (like Isaac) coming up through the Southeast US IF it hit maryland on the way east, wouldn't fill the pan. So I'm OK.
But that means a roof job. It's 26 years old. I had been planning to replace it anyway. 20 year guarantee and lasting 26 years is "OK".
But the roof isn't the only problem. The cheap vinyl siding is about worn out. It was "builders grade", and that is about as poor as it gets. But I didn't know anything about that stuff 26 years ago. It needs to be replaced too. It is so abraded by weather that the surface is rough and grows mold and mildew rampantly. It stayed clean for 13 years, so I cleaned it. Then it only stayed clean for 3 years and I cleaned it. Then it only stayed clean 1 years. Then 6 months. Now it can't stay clean of mold and mildew on the north side of the house at all. So I need new vinyl siding.
So I have added new siding to the roof job (he does both). I'm not going to be "the blue house" anymore. We are changing to a slightly greyish green with darker green trim and "heather" shingles.
I couldn't expect it all to last forever. Well, actually, I didn't expect to live in this "starter house" for 26 years. But here I am and I don't plan to move just yet.
I'm glad I have savings, I can write a check for the whole work... On the other hand, that's 80% of the checking account. But the house is going to look a WHOLE lot better in a couple weeks and I'm not touching the savings account at all.. Happily, the inside is in great condition.
Its time to have some work done on the house...
Things are going to be VERY NOISY here for 3 days in a week from now...
There was a slightly off-color spot on the living room ceiling. I looked at it a few minutes, then backed away across the room. A 3' area sagged about an inch. I got up into the attic...
The attic is not my favorite area. I always expect that hornets will have moved in, or squirrels, or knife-wielding people with masks. Its been a year at least since I was up there. Its "The Land of Old Boxes and Junk". Ayla loves to climb ladders, and even she won't go up there!
Years ago, I put plywood sheets down on the center of the attic. I meant to do the other half, but there were problems with wiring going over the joists and I put it off. I should have finished the work.
Because when I got up there and crab-walked over the joists to where the possible leak was, I found one! One drop per minute while it was raining yesterday. When the rain stopped, so did the drips.
So I looked around for a wide pan to catch the drips so they wouldn't soak the plaster ceiling any more. I found an unused cat litter pan in the basement and went back in the attic with a piece of plywood scrap to span the joists to support the pan to collect the drips.
You know how, any time you find a good solution, a better comes to mind after? I was looking around for a large wide container to catch drips and settled on a kitty litty pan. Well, when I went to bed that night, I was staring at a HUGE plastic storage bin that would hold about 20 gallons!
I'm usually smarter than that about thinking of the best things to use. But fortunately the rain is stopped for a week, so the need to get back up into the attic with the larger container is delayed.
I had a roofing expert come to the house today. He was REALLY NICE! He got up on the roof, examined the spot, and saw that a tree branch had fallen onto the roof and punctured the plywood slightly. Small hole, slow leak. Ans his best guess that even a hurricane (like Isaac) coming up through the Southeast US IF it hit maryland on the way east, wouldn't fill the pan. So I'm OK.
But that means a roof job. It's 26 years old. I had been planning to replace it anyway. 20 year guarantee and lasting 26 years is "OK".
But the roof isn't the only problem. The cheap vinyl siding is about worn out. It was "builders grade", and that is about as poor as it gets. But I didn't know anything about that stuff 26 years ago. It needs to be replaced too. It is so abraded by weather that the surface is rough and grows mold and mildew rampantly. It stayed clean for 13 years, so I cleaned it. Then it only stayed clean for 3 years and I cleaned it. Then it only stayed clean 1 years. Then 6 months. Now it can't stay clean of mold and mildew on the north side of the house at all. So I need new vinyl siding.
So I have added new siding to the roof job (he does both). I'm not going to be "the blue house" anymore. We are changing to a slightly greyish green with darker green trim and "heather" shingles.
I couldn't expect it all to last forever. Well, actually, I didn't expect to live in this "starter house" for 26 years. But here I am and I don't plan to move just yet.
I'm glad I have savings, I can write a check for the whole work... On the other hand, that's 80% of the checking account. But the house is going to look a WHOLE lot better in a couple weeks and I'm not touching the savings account at all.. Happily, the inside is in great condition.
Its time to have some work done on the house...
Things are going to be VERY NOISY here for 3 days in a week from now...
Computer Games
I love playing people at board/card games. And the only way to do it these days is by computer. My favorite games are Risk, Scrabble, Hearts, and Backgammon.
A place to play is pogo.com. Not a recommendation, just where I play. You get an avatar to represent you, and I got it uo to 800,000 points. And got really annoyed that I was staying up late at nights to play.
So I cancelled my account.
Oh was I regretful... And I couldn't get it back. So a few months ago, I started again from ZERO!
This week, I reached 1,000,000 points.
Just before...
And just after...
Yeah, that's my avatar. Indiana Jones hat and camo outfit. Suits me just fine, and I actually wear that stuff IRL. LOL!
I think that "84%" means percentile of all scores. Which is good I suppose for a casual player. The serious players play every night for a few hours. I'm not obsessed; I just like to play once a week.
Now that I have my million (and lots of players have WAY more than that), I want to earn enough points to add a cat to my avatar and stay above 1M! I mean, what am I without a cat? So I better go play more now. I think I need 25,000 to get my cat.
A place to play is pogo.com. Not a recommendation, just where I play. You get an avatar to represent you, and I got it uo to 800,000 points. And got really annoyed that I was staying up late at nights to play.
So I cancelled my account.
Oh was I regretful... And I couldn't get it back. So a few months ago, I started again from ZERO!
This week, I reached 1,000,000 points.
Just before...
Now that I have my million (and lots of players have WAY more than that), I want to earn enough points to add a cat to my avatar and stay above 1M! I mean, what am I without a cat? So I better go play more now. I think I need 25,000 to get my cat.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Dadisms
I hope it is alright to find some slight humor in the Dadisms I get day-to-day. I don't mean great laughs; sometimes humor is the better alternative to crying.
1. Dad has been seeing the progress of Tropical Storm (possibly to be Hurricane) Isaac down around Cuba via the TV reports. WHILE I was trying to finish cooking dinner (of course, his timing is always wretched), he suddenly had urgent concerns that we should prepare for power outages.
Dad: We need to get ready for power outages.
Mark: Why?
Dad: The Hurricane...
Mark: We are not threatened by a hurricane.
Dad: No, it will be here tonight, we have to get ready.
[Ok, now I could have gone 2 ways here, and I actually did think about it. I could have said, "yes, I will get the candles out and and fill clean bottles with fresh water". But I'm obsessed with reality. So it progressed like this]...
Mark: Dad, the hurricane isn't a hurricane yet, it is about a week away from us if it even comes NEAR us, we won't lose power, and if we DO, the food is good for a day in the freezer, and I will cook the fresh meat on the grill to save it.
Dad: You're not listening to me, the hurricane is coming tonight and the power will be out for days.
Mark: I'm listening to you but you're wrong. 1. The power doesn't go out here because the cables are underground. 2. I've lived here for 26 years and the power has never gone off for more than 2 hours, a one-off equipment failure in non-storm times. 3. The storm is 1500 miles away, 5 days, and IF it comes through here it will only be a day of steady drizzle, which I would VERY much like. 4. If the absolutely bizarre worst happened, I would simply put you in the front seat of the car and the cats (in PTUs) in the car and we would stay a few days out of state on our credit cards...
Dad: But...
Mark: Get out of the kitchen and let me finish cooking dinner! I will deal with the Hurricane problem RIGHT after dinner!!!
Dad is getting more uncertain about where he is living. I suppose he thinks he was in Florida for some of the discussion (but he knows Maryland for other parts). It seems the concept of geographical distance is becoming harder for him to recall. He really thinks the Tropical Storm Isaac is very close to us (in Maryland).
I don't want to ignore his concerns, but when they are non-sensical and I'm trying to get all the parts of dinner cooked at the same time, I just don't HAVE time for his confusions.
2. The groundhog sightings... I caged a groundhog on July 17th and relocated it. Since that time, Dad has claimed to see a groundhog in the back yard every single day. It is always a pile of dead leaves or a dark spot on the shed foundation. Every day, I have to walk outside and point to the spot he is convinced there is a groundhog and show him that there isn't one.
Repeated errors in seeing groundhogs every day doesn't bother him a bit. So when he stated AGAIN that there was a groundhog out back, I hesitated to even look. But he said there was one running around, no doubt this time, I looked. Yes there was.
I set up the live cage, trapped it in an hour and relocated it later.
But here's the thing. He said it was weird to get one just 2 days after the last one. Um, it was 4 weeks ago. Dad insisted it was only 2 days. I showed him the picture from the last time (July 17/18). He said that was the first one this year. Dad wasn't even HERE then.
His time-memory of current events is completely shot. He can't remember simple things one day to the next. I have a really hard time dealing with this. I have a better-than-average memory for events than most people. I have a worse-than-average about "people-things", so I'm not claiming anything special. Meaning, I can remember buying things better than I can who I was talking to when I bought the item. Many people have the opposite memory, and I envy them in that quite often.
But Dad insisted I relocated a groundhog only 2 days before the last one, and it was 4 weeks...
3. Dad gives me instructions befitting a child more and more often these last couple of weeks. I'm not sure how to say he is "reverting to adulthood". Parenthood of a child, I guess... I announced the other night that I was going to bed early because I had stayed up late the night before. He told me to make sure I "used the facilities" before I went to bed. You tell a 5 year old that.
When I make a meal, he sometimes asks "do you have enough for yourself"? Well, considering the fact that I make dinners and divide them with what my grandmother used to call "the miking eye" (meaning micrometer precision) IN HIS PRESENCE, that is always a bit disturbing.
Every single night, we eat dinner and he eats at the table (because it doesn't wobble when he cuts his meat ineptly) and I eat on a TV tray so I can (briefly) watch a science DVD in peace and no "they can't know THAT" comments from Dad. Every meal, toward the END of the meal, he always asks "Do you want more salt or more butter"? Next week, he may be asking me if I need help cutting up my food.
He clearly thinks of me as a child needing help. I wouldn't mind so much if it wasn't for the fact that he has always treated me that way, and I've always been the independent one of the kids... I DO NOT understand this particular oddity on Dad's part.
*SIGH*
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*
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.
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