I suppose this is going to sound like a rather negative post. Let's just say that I need to vent, and this is my safe place. All in all Thanksgiving was really quite good, but there were some rough spots to get over. Isn't that always the way when there are seven people living in 1700 square feet for about five days.
The good part was that the turkey was just great. Son in law, S was going to fry the turkey this year - even though he had never done such a thing before. He had used the frier, but for catfish and shrimp. I fifteen pound turkey is another thing. He was banished into the north pasture (I forgot to tell you we were in the Middle of Nowhere Hill Country place). It has been so dry up there I was very afraid of a fire. Let's face it - a propane burner, four gallons of hot peanut oil and a dropped turkey could equal disaster. Husband was self proclaimed "Safety Officer" armed with a shovel and water hose. The shovel for the grass fire and the water to stop the flames on S. There was a minor mixup with the turkey. S thought I had the baster and I was sure this was his deal. The solution I came up with was to brine the turkey for about 4 hours. Not really long enough, but it worked.
The parts to moan and groan over now come. On Friday, S was going to do ribs on the pit. G HATES beef ribs. What kind does S do? You guessed it - beef. Our little pit is a side fire box smoker that CAN be used as a regular pit. Monkey Boy would not let me hold him at all this weekend, so S had him outside with him. When S asked for the bag of charcoal, I assumed (I know the saying about assume) he was going to set it in the main part of the grill and cook the ribs that way. Nope! When I looked out the door, there were flames rising five feet from the tiny fire box.
Daughter and step granddaughter were out hunting. K called on the radio. She shot something. G was going to take over at the pit. I walked out to see what was going on. The top door of the firebox was completely charred - paint burned off. The fire was entirely too hot. When I looked inside, the ribs were piled on top of one another. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. G told me he couldn't keep the heat going in the pit side. I took over and added the cooking wood that should have been used - after being soaked. It of course was not. I don't think our little pit will ever be the same.
During this fiasco, we heard another shot. We thought it was our hunter and his daughter. Nope. S had to show off. He saw three does on the crest of the hill after retrieving K's buck. He shot (this making 3 of that family's quota of 5 deer). When he got to the deer, it was a yearling. A button buck. I could not believe how stupid that was. He is always claiming he is so good at aging deer on the hoof. I guess Mr. Great Hunter just had to show off for his ladies. That ended up making him look like a fool.
S's family apparently only had three sets of silverware when he was growing up because they seem to think everyone doesn't mind eating after them. S constantly uses his fork (already eaten from) to stick into the jam to get more. Of course, he likes a little eggs with his jam. He could eat the entire jar - and nearly does at breakfast. That was the norm again. The twist is that Step granddaughter went a little further. When she wanted left over pie, she just ate part of the pieces in the pie pan and left the rest. That is soooo nasty to me. Here was the pies with little scoops out of them. Lady Bug couldn't have done that, although it would have been something I would expect from a 4 year old, because the pies were out of her reach.
OK. Enough venting. All in all this was a time to be thankful and enjoy the company of family. I wish B and C could have been there for at least some of the time, but they were visiting C's family. It was still a good time.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
More memories
I guess this time of year really sends me back to yesterday! Different things bring vivid memories back to me, and not all of them I want to remember. One that I remember with warmth is the "ceremony" of the "pulley bone." Have you ever heard of the pulley bone? That was one of my favorite things that went along with the Thanksgiving turkey. And since I was the only child, I always got one end of that pulley bone with Dad usually on the other. For this of you who have no idea what I am talking about, the "pulley bone" is otherwise known as the wishbone!
There is a commercial that shows two children making a wish over this bone. I began remembering my adventures with said bone. I couldn't wait for that bird to be sufficiently devoured so we could get to that bone. That was the only thing I really wanted from old Tom Turkey! I know there is another name for that blasted bone. Forgive me Dr Hartman but my anatomy lessons fail me now! Humph, some biologist I am! Use it or lose it, you know!
There is another memory that came flooding back to me. I hadn't thought of it at all until I was reading another blog that it hit me(someday I will learn how to put in links and will have my favorite sites over there on the side). She was a history professor, and commented that she will miss being behind a lecturn today. She loved to lecture on the JFK assassination. That is not the real memory that haunts me. The real one is that today, on that very day, I had the stupid idea to elope.
Now if that doesn't make for a terrible memory, I don't know what does. I am so thankful that the plan was discovered, and there was an immediate stop put to it. I never set out to hurt my parents like that. I thought that at 18 I knew all there was to know, and I thought I wanted to marry this boy. It would have been such a horrible mistake. But I remember fleeing to my best friends house because I simply couldn't stay in the same house with my understandingly distraught parents. But there on the news was coverage of JFK.
And so, even though I try with all my might to forget that near mistake, each year it comes back to me. Memories are like that. They come flooding back with such intensity. Often that is a good thing (thank you Martha Stewart) and make you all warm and fuzzy. You remember how good times were - even if that memory has skewed a bit. But then there are memories that you really want to repress and never have them come back. But I believe they serve a purpose. As much as I squirm and try to run from the memory of hurting my parents to the quick, I think that memory is important to me. My children have done things that hurt me. Some as much as that memory hurt my parents. I need to remember that, as humans, we are not perfect. We do hurt the ones we love without really meaning to do so. We must be able to get over the hurt, forgive, and go on. The hurt doesn't have to be openly referred to because it will always be there, but the love and forgiveness must be openly shown.
I hope your memories are pleasant, and make those that aren't work for you, not against you.
There is a commercial that shows two children making a wish over this bone. I began remembering my adventures with said bone. I couldn't wait for that bird to be sufficiently devoured so we could get to that bone. That was the only thing I really wanted from old Tom Turkey! I know there is another name for that blasted bone. Forgive me Dr Hartman but my anatomy lessons fail me now! Humph, some biologist I am! Use it or lose it, you know!
There is another memory that came flooding back to me. I hadn't thought of it at all until I was reading another blog that it hit me(someday I will learn how to put in links and will have my favorite sites over there on the side). She was a history professor, and commented that she will miss being behind a lecturn today. She loved to lecture on the JFK assassination. That is not the real memory that haunts me. The real one is that today, on that very day, I had the stupid idea to elope.
Now if that doesn't make for a terrible memory, I don't know what does. I am so thankful that the plan was discovered, and there was an immediate stop put to it. I never set out to hurt my parents like that. I thought that at 18 I knew all there was to know, and I thought I wanted to marry this boy. It would have been such a horrible mistake. But I remember fleeing to my best friends house because I simply couldn't stay in the same house with my understandingly distraught parents. But there on the news was coverage of JFK.
And so, even though I try with all my might to forget that near mistake, each year it comes back to me. Memories are like that. They come flooding back with such intensity. Often that is a good thing (thank you Martha Stewart) and make you all warm and fuzzy. You remember how good times were - even if that memory has skewed a bit. But then there are memories that you really want to repress and never have them come back. But I believe they serve a purpose. As much as I squirm and try to run from the memory of hurting my parents to the quick, I think that memory is important to me. My children have done things that hurt me. Some as much as that memory hurt my parents. I need to remember that, as humans, we are not perfect. We do hurt the ones we love without really meaning to do so. We must be able to get over the hurt, forgive, and go on. The hurt doesn't have to be openly referred to because it will always be there, but the love and forgiveness must be openly shown.
I hope your memories are pleasant, and make those that aren't work for you, not against you.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
A bit of remembering
This morning I was watching "Today." During the show, they went to various department stores in New York that were unveiling their Christmas windows. Those beautiful decorated windows sent me right back to my childhood in the 50's. Joske's Department Store in San Antonio used to decorate their windows every Christmas. I remember waiting with great anticipation seeing those beautiful windows. Of course to a young child, it was not only the wonder of those windows, but the great event that soon followed - Christmas Eve.
Remembering that time, I also remember what a more simple time it was. Perhaps I really remember the "fancified" version that was popularized in TV programs like "Happy Days." Those were really happy days. I felt safe and protected. I was unaffected by what was going on - even the Cold War with its threats of THE BOMB. My memories are like an old Christmas card in which the scene is a little out of focus. Very softened.
Joske's is gone now. Not the building, but the store. Since moving to Houston some 36 years ago, I have only been back to the building once. It is now part of the huge River Center Mall, but the feeling of that old store is the same. I spend many hours in that store. I would get on the bus at the corner of my street and ride downtown. That was nothing new for me. I would get on the bus every Saturday morning for two years to ride to my church located downtown to attend confirmation (I am Lutheran). When I got older, but still couldn't drive, I would ride downtown on summer days. I was an only child of working parents, and I really got bored. SO downtown I went. It was a little walk from where I would get off the bus, but Joske's was my destination of choice.
When I got my driver's license, I would still go to Joske's. I would buy LP's there (for those who don't know they are the bid 33 1/3 records). I had quite a collection although mostly off beat performers. Those records were inexpensive, and I was into the "oldies" that orchestras like "Silver Strings" would play. To me their music was as beautiful as any.
The store is now Dill*rds, I think. But when I went in, I could place where everything I so loved had been in the old store. I really should go back there sometime, but downtown is a nightmare to me now. Everything is torn up for street improvements. A sign of the times I guess, but I hate it. San Antonio will never again be the San Antonio of my youth, and for the city I supposed that is a good thing. If it was the city of fifty years ago, there would be much more poverty.
I still think of those beautiful windows, and wish for the times I would be a small child looking into the lavish designs. I guess I still wish for my childhood. But really that is senseless and silly. It can never be, and I know there are new adventures around each corner coming my way. My beautiful grandchildren share their reactions to this life with me. I can see the world through their eyes - even if for a few brief moments, and it is a beautifully decorated store window with Christmas scenes in it!
Remembering that time, I also remember what a more simple time it was. Perhaps I really remember the "fancified" version that was popularized in TV programs like "Happy Days." Those were really happy days. I felt safe and protected. I was unaffected by what was going on - even the Cold War with its threats of THE BOMB. My memories are like an old Christmas card in which the scene is a little out of focus. Very softened.
Joske's is gone now. Not the building, but the store. Since moving to Houston some 36 years ago, I have only been back to the building once. It is now part of the huge River Center Mall, but the feeling of that old store is the same. I spend many hours in that store. I would get on the bus at the corner of my street and ride downtown. That was nothing new for me. I would get on the bus every Saturday morning for two years to ride to my church located downtown to attend confirmation (I am Lutheran). When I got older, but still couldn't drive, I would ride downtown on summer days. I was an only child of working parents, and I really got bored. SO downtown I went. It was a little walk from where I would get off the bus, but Joske's was my destination of choice.
When I got my driver's license, I would still go to Joske's. I would buy LP's there (for those who don't know they are the bid 33 1/3 records). I had quite a collection although mostly off beat performers. Those records were inexpensive, and I was into the "oldies" that orchestras like "Silver Strings" would play. To me their music was as beautiful as any.
The store is now Dill*rds, I think. But when I went in, I could place where everything I so loved had been in the old store. I really should go back there sometime, but downtown is a nightmare to me now. Everything is torn up for street improvements. A sign of the times I guess, but I hate it. San Antonio will never again be the San Antonio of my youth, and for the city I supposed that is a good thing. If it was the city of fifty years ago, there would be much more poverty.
I still think of those beautiful windows, and wish for the times I would be a small child looking into the lavish designs. I guess I still wish for my childhood. But really that is senseless and silly. It can never be, and I know there are new adventures around each corner coming my way. My beautiful grandchildren share their reactions to this life with me. I can see the world through their eyes - even if for a few brief moments, and it is a beautifully decorated store window with Christmas scenes in it!
A bit of remembering
This morning I was watching "Today." During the show, they went to various department stores in New York that were unveiling their Christmas windows. Those beautiful decorated windows sent me right back to my childhood in the 50's. Joske's Department Store in San Antonio used to decorate their windows every Christmas. I remember waiting with great anticipation seeing those beautiful windows. Of course to a young child, it was not only the wonder of those windows, but the great event that soon followed - Christmas Eve.
Remembering that time, I also remember what a more simple time it was. Perhaps I really remember the "fancified" version that was popularized in TV programs like "Happy Days." Those were really happy days. I felt safe and protected. I was unaffected by what was going on - even the Cold War with its threats of THE BOMB. My memories are like an old Christmas card in which the scene is a little out of focus. Very softened.
Joske's is gone now. Not the building, but the store. Since moving to Houston some 36 years ago, I have only been back to the building once. It is now part of the huge River Center Mall, but the feeling of that old store is the same. I spend many hours in that store. I would get on the bus at the corner of my street and ride downtown. That was nothing new for me. I would get on the bus every Saturday morning for two years to ride to my church located downtown to attend confirmation (I am Lutheran). When I got older, but still couldn't drive, I would ride downtown on summer days. I was an only child of working parents, and I really got bored. SO downtown I went. It was a little walk from where I would get off the bus, but Joske's was my destination of choice.
When I got my driver's license, I would still go to Joske's. I would buy LP's there (for those who don't know they are the bid 33 1/3 records). I had quite a collection although mostly off beat performers. Those records were inexpensive, and I was into the "oldies" that orchestras like "Silver Strings" would play. To me their music was as beautiful as any.
The store is now Dill*rds, I think. But when I went in, I could place where everything I so loved had been in the old store. I really should go back there sometime, but downtown is a nightmare to me now. Everything is torn up for street improvements. A sign of the times I guess, but I hate it. San Antonio will never again be the San Antonio of my youth, and for the city I supposed that is a good thing. If it was the city of fifty years ago, there would be much more poverty.
I still think of those beautiful windows, and wish for the times I would be a small child looking into the lavish designs. I guess I still wish for my childhood. But really that is senseless and silly. It can never be, and I know there are new adventures around each corner coming my way. My beautiful grandchildren share their reactions to this life with me. I can see the world through their eyes - even if for a few brief moments, and it is a beautifully decorated store window with Christmas scenes in it!
Remembering that time, I also remember what a more simple time it was. Perhaps I really remember the "fancified" version that was popularized in TV programs like "Happy Days." Those were really happy days. I felt safe and protected. I was unaffected by what was going on - even the Cold War with its threats of THE BOMB. My memories are like an old Christmas card in which the scene is a little out of focus. Very softened.
Joske's is gone now. Not the building, but the store. Since moving to Houston some 36 years ago, I have only been back to the building once. It is now part of the huge River Center Mall, but the feeling of that old store is the same. I spend many hours in that store. I would get on the bus at the corner of my street and ride downtown. That was nothing new for me. I would get on the bus every Saturday morning for two years to ride to my church located downtown to attend confirmation (I am Lutheran). When I got older, but still couldn't drive, I would ride downtown on summer days. I was an only child of working parents, and I really got bored. SO downtown I went. It was a little walk from where I would get off the bus, but Joske's was my destination of choice.
When I got my driver's license, I would still go to Joske's. I would buy LP's there (for those who don't know they are the bid 33 1/3 records). I had quite a collection although mostly off beat performers. Those records were inexpensive, and I was into the "oldies" that orchestras like "Silver Strings" would play. To me their music was as beautiful as any.
The store is now Dill*rds, I think. But when I went in, I could place where everything I so loved had been in the old store. I really should go back there sometime, but downtown is a nightmare to me now. Everything is torn up for street improvements. A sign of the times I guess, but I hate it. San Antonio will never again be the San Antonio of my youth, and for the city I supposed that is a good thing. If it was the city of fifty years ago, there would be much more poverty.
I still think of those beautiful windows, and wish for the times I would be a small child looking into the lavish designs. I guess I still wish for my childhood. But really that is senseless and silly. It can never be, and I know there are new adventures around each corner coming my way. My beautiful grandchildren share their reactions to this life with me. I can see the world through their eyes - even if for a few brief moments, and it is a beautifully decorated store window with Christmas scenes in it!
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Today was the day
Today was my day with Lady Bug. I carefully poured over cookie recipes choosing the ones that I thought would be easy for us to do together. I made a list of where these were located, made the shopping list, went to the store and then set everything out. I had chosen five recipes, and I thought they were wonderful. We made the first one and had just set the first baking sheet into the over. Did I say this recipe makes FIVE dozen? Lady Bug says to me: "OK Grandma, what do we do now? When are we making the Christmas cookies?"
My quick response was "these ARE Christmas cookies. We will have them at Christmas."
Dead silence followed. She thinks Christmas cookies are the rolled out, cookie cuttered, decorated cookies. This became very clear half way into the second recipe. In the mean time she wanted to watch "Madagascar" or play the "Earnie" game on the computer. I had lost her.
At noon, I made the enough to make the thousand cookies dough. I convinced her that it had to chill, and all was well. After its "resting time" I began to roll it out. I had the cookie cutters out. LB asked what they were. Oh, boy. I DID forget she isn't five yet. When she would cut out a cookie, it was from the middle of the dough. We got that settled. I gave her the first Silpat covered cookie pan. She began using the tinted sugar. I didn't pay attention - at first. When I looked over, there was no visible cookie - just green sugar. A huge lump of green sugar.
To end this - we did about two dozen cookies. I have enough dough in the frige to make nine hundred more cookies, but she got to make her Christmas cookies with Grandma!!!
My quick response was "these ARE Christmas cookies. We will have them at Christmas."
Dead silence followed. She thinks Christmas cookies are the rolled out, cookie cuttered, decorated cookies. This became very clear half way into the second recipe. In the mean time she wanted to watch "Madagascar" or play the "Earnie" game on the computer. I had lost her.
At noon, I made the enough to make the thousand cookies dough. I convinced her that it had to chill, and all was well. After its "resting time" I began to roll it out. I had the cookie cutters out. LB asked what they were. Oh, boy. I DID forget she isn't five yet. When she would cut out a cookie, it was from the middle of the dough. We got that settled. I gave her the first Silpat covered cookie pan. She began using the tinted sugar. I didn't pay attention - at first. When I looked over, there was no visible cookie - just green sugar. A huge lump of green sugar.
To end this - we did about two dozen cookies. I have enough dough in the frige to make nine hundred more cookies, but she got to make her Christmas cookies with Grandma!!!
Today was the day
Today was my day with Lady Bug. I carefully poured over cookie recipes choosing the ones that I thought would be easy for us to do together. I made a list of where these were located, made the shopping list, went to the store and then set everything out. I had chosen five recipes, and I thought they were wonderful. We made the first one and had just set the first baking sheet into the over. Did I say this recipe makes FIVE dozen? Lady Bug says to me: "OK Grandma, what do we do now? When are we making the Christmas cookies?"
My quick response was "these ARE Christmas cookies. We will have them at Christmas."
Dead silence followed. She thinks Christmas cookies are the rolled out, cookie cuttered, decorated cookies. This became very clear half way into the second recipe. In the mean time she wanted to watch "Madagascar" or play the "Earnie" game on the computer. I had lost her.
At noon, I made the enough to make the thousand cookies dough. I convinced her that it had to chill, and all was well. After its "resting time" I began to roll it out. I had the cookie cutters out. LB asked what they were. Oh, boy. I DID forget she isn't five yet. When she would cut out a cookie, it was from the middle of the dough. We got that settled. I gave her the first Silpat covered cookie pan. She began using the tinted sugar. I didn't pay attention - at first. When I looked over, there was no visible cookie - just green sugar. A huge lump of green sugar.
To end this - we did about two dozen cookies. I have enough dough in the frige to make nine hundred more cookies, but she got to make her Christmas cookies with Grandma!!!
My quick response was "these ARE Christmas cookies. We will have them at Christmas."
Dead silence followed. She thinks Christmas cookies are the rolled out, cookie cuttered, decorated cookies. This became very clear half way into the second recipe. In the mean time she wanted to watch "Madagascar" or play the "Earnie" game on the computer. I had lost her.
At noon, I made the enough to make the thousand cookies dough. I convinced her that it had to chill, and all was well. After its "resting time" I began to roll it out. I had the cookie cutters out. LB asked what they were. Oh, boy. I DID forget she isn't five yet. When she would cut out a cookie, it was from the middle of the dough. We got that settled. I gave her the first Silpat covered cookie pan. She began using the tinted sugar. I didn't pay attention - at first. When I looked over, there was no visible cookie - just green sugar. A huge lump of green sugar.
To end this - we did about two dozen cookies. I have enough dough in the frige to make nine hundred more cookies, but she got to make her Christmas cookies with Grandma!!!
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
A new experience
Thursday I am going to venture into the world of new experiences! Lady Bug and I are going to make cookies. I didn't even do this with my children. Isn't it funny what we will do for our grandchildren? She wants to cook something so desperately. When I stayed with the kids last week, she asked if she could cook with M that night. I think she was a little disappointed when I told her I was going to order Chinese. That was a big mixed experience for her. While she loves Chinese, she wanted to cook.
Now I have to decide what kind of cookies we can make together. I am thinking drop cookies would be the best. They are relatively easy to produce. I believe she would enjoy cutting cookies out too, and I know she would enjoy decorating them. I just worry about the mess.
In reality, I am really looking forward to Thursday. I think it will be fun. I am certainly past the stage where a little mess gets to me. There are things much more important in life. Spending time with my granddaughter is really right at the top of things that are important to me.
We went to Little Place in the Hill Country this past weekend. My niece was there with her son. I enjoyed watching my sister in law interact with him. She was sure that there would never be a grandchild. I know she was a bit jealous when Lady Bug came along, especially since I was less that thrilled at the prospect of being a grandmother. I am so glad she has her grandson. She makes a special effort to go to the little church to show him off on the occasions he is there.
I know she would love to have a granddaughter. She has a wonderful doll collection, and she always buys Lady Bug the cutest outfits for Christmas. All I can do is hope E will come though with a girl sometime. I was thrilled when we found that K was having a girl. C (daughter in law) can have all boys if it comes to that - I have my granddaughter! I wouldn't mind if C has girls though. They are so much fun.
Our extended family Christmas will once again be at Little Place in the Hill Country since G's siblings all have places within a mile from us (family land). Last year, Monkey Boy was only 6 months old. This year all three of the grandchildren are very mobile. It may be am exciting time this year.
It is nice to see the "new" generation. It is nice to just enjoy them. When it's your children, you are too busy making sure they grow up "properly." Grandchildren are there to simply enjoy, and that's what I intend to do!
Now I have to decide what kind of cookies we can make together. I am thinking drop cookies would be the best. They are relatively easy to produce. I believe she would enjoy cutting cookies out too, and I know she would enjoy decorating them. I just worry about the mess.
In reality, I am really looking forward to Thursday. I think it will be fun. I am certainly past the stage where a little mess gets to me. There are things much more important in life. Spending time with my granddaughter is really right at the top of things that are important to me.
We went to Little Place in the Hill Country this past weekend. My niece was there with her son. I enjoyed watching my sister in law interact with him. She was sure that there would never be a grandchild. I know she was a bit jealous when Lady Bug came along, especially since I was less that thrilled at the prospect of being a grandmother. I am so glad she has her grandson. She makes a special effort to go to the little church to show him off on the occasions he is there.
I know she would love to have a granddaughter. She has a wonderful doll collection, and she always buys Lady Bug the cutest outfits for Christmas. All I can do is hope E will come though with a girl sometime. I was thrilled when we found that K was having a girl. C (daughter in law) can have all boys if it comes to that - I have my granddaughter! I wouldn't mind if C has girls though. They are so much fun.
Our extended family Christmas will once again be at Little Place in the Hill Country since G's siblings all have places within a mile from us (family land). Last year, Monkey Boy was only 6 months old. This year all three of the grandchildren are very mobile. It may be am exciting time this year.
It is nice to see the "new" generation. It is nice to just enjoy them. When it's your children, you are too busy making sure they grow up "properly." Grandchildren are there to simply enjoy, and that's what I intend to do!
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Incredible also
Well, G called his father last night to wish him a "Happy Birthday." When the conversation turned to the agreed upon visit of an assisted living facility, the answer was exactly what I thought it would be. No they didn't go to look. Everything is just fine, and the 17 year old dog with kidney disease who stroked out a month and a half ago is just fine. They have no problems. They are going to stay in the old house in a neighborhood that is no longer what it was. Strange how 50 years can being changes to a neighborhood that aren't positive.
So what a huge waste of time and gasoline money (it was pushing $3 per gallon then). How did I know things would turn out this way? Experience. There will have to be an emergency. Fortunately, I was rather prepared when it happened to my parents. The fact remains whoever, we do live at least 3 hours away, and that is in good traffic conditions. I guess the other siblings who live in Capital City only a little over an hour away will have to cope with this one.
I sound harsh, and I really this is not what I mean. As my days in this bank of life begin to dwindle (even though I try to ignore that fact - I'm still 21, right???) I think about what will happen to me. The thought of giving up my independent life is not something I want to do. G's aunt was thinking about assisted living. She's younger than the in-laws and goes everywhere. Her house was sold, and assisted living was one of her options. Her comment was that she didn't want to live with those "old people." I deeply agree. I look at the people in the place where I go to visit dad. There are three levels of people there. Very independent with "apartments" of their own, those who live in the facilities in rooms, and the locked unit. There are some folks who look to be less than 70. I still wouldn't want to live there. I would go nuts. But the fact remains that, if I live long enough, I will not be able to remain totally independent. I will not be able to care for this 2800 square foot house. It's difficult now; soon it will be virtually impossible. But I love this house. I utilize all but one room.
So what to do with the in-laws? I guess let them be. There must be some research done by the family for the back up needs however. G even told them he doesn't want an emergency like I had. Hopefully, little sister can come and stay - even during Christmas when school is out and begin looking and setting plans. The in-laws don't realize that the "good places" often have waiting lists. We had to wait a week even after the emergency.
Getting older is really not fun. The arthritis, associated health concerns, the looming future are not the most pleasant things in this world. Being older with still older parents is also not much fun when it comes to looking at their well being. Mother in law again changed her mind. I just wonder what it is going to take. I wonder what it will take for me?
So what a huge waste of time and gasoline money (it was pushing $3 per gallon then). How did I know things would turn out this way? Experience. There will have to be an emergency. Fortunately, I was rather prepared when it happened to my parents. The fact remains whoever, we do live at least 3 hours away, and that is in good traffic conditions. I guess the other siblings who live in Capital City only a little over an hour away will have to cope with this one.
I sound harsh, and I really this is not what I mean. As my days in this bank of life begin to dwindle (even though I try to ignore that fact - I'm still 21, right???) I think about what will happen to me. The thought of giving up my independent life is not something I want to do. G's aunt was thinking about assisted living. She's younger than the in-laws and goes everywhere. Her house was sold, and assisted living was one of her options. Her comment was that she didn't want to live with those "old people." I deeply agree. I look at the people in the place where I go to visit dad. There are three levels of people there. Very independent with "apartments" of their own, those who live in the facilities in rooms, and the locked unit. There are some folks who look to be less than 70. I still wouldn't want to live there. I would go nuts. But the fact remains that, if I live long enough, I will not be able to remain totally independent. I will not be able to care for this 2800 square foot house. It's difficult now; soon it will be virtually impossible. But I love this house. I utilize all but one room.
So what to do with the in-laws? I guess let them be. There must be some research done by the family for the back up needs however. G even told them he doesn't want an emergency like I had. Hopefully, little sister can come and stay - even during Christmas when school is out and begin looking and setting plans. The in-laws don't realize that the "good places" often have waiting lists. We had to wait a week even after the emergency.
Getting older is really not fun. The arthritis, associated health concerns, the looming future are not the most pleasant things in this world. Being older with still older parents is also not much fun when it comes to looking at their well being. Mother in law again changed her mind. I just wonder what it is going to take. I wonder what it will take for me?
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Ummmm
I stayed with the grandchildren last night because K and S were both out of town on business trips. I knew I would be doing this for about a month and a half. I didn't see that there would be a problem - well perhaps with step granddaughter. She sometimes can pull real boner stunts, but that's mostly with K and S.
K promised that she would wean Monkey Boy and have him sleeping in his crib by the time I was going to stay with them. Guess what! She didn't. Monkey Boy is 15 months old and still nurses. Last night it was cold turkey! There was just a bottle and there is no comparison there. Yesterday afternoon he would realize Mom wasn't there and would cry so hard. This is in addition to cutting two molars.
M came downstairs when she heard him, and I decided to go ahead and feed him his dinner. Fortunately she knew to give him a cup that allows for a straw. This made him happier. Then she let him have some of the chocolate milk she made herself. Things went quite well until about 7:45. He realized that there was still no mom. The crying began again. M then said that the best move at that point was to take him for a drive. Worked like a charm! The only drawback was that when I got him back, they were watching a movie. That meant I missed "Boston Legal." As the credit card commercial states: Drive with Monkey Boy - $2.30/gallon; missed show - no real set amount; sleeping Monkey Boy - PRICELESS!
I was able to put him into the crib. Lady Bug sleeps on a pallet in their room. I was able to put her there after she fell asleep. About 2:30 Monkey Boy woke. He DID take a bottle this time. By 7:30 I had them both in bed with me. Now I'm ready for a nap.
All in all, it was a good experience, but I sure do wish she would wean him! Especially if I have to do this again.
K promised that she would wean Monkey Boy and have him sleeping in his crib by the time I was going to stay with them. Guess what! She didn't. Monkey Boy is 15 months old and still nurses. Last night it was cold turkey! There was just a bottle and there is no comparison there. Yesterday afternoon he would realize Mom wasn't there and would cry so hard. This is in addition to cutting two molars.
M came downstairs when she heard him, and I decided to go ahead and feed him his dinner. Fortunately she knew to give him a cup that allows for a straw. This made him happier. Then she let him have some of the chocolate milk she made herself. Things went quite well until about 7:45. He realized that there was still no mom. The crying began again. M then said that the best move at that point was to take him for a drive. Worked like a charm! The only drawback was that when I got him back, they were watching a movie. That meant I missed "Boston Legal." As the credit card commercial states: Drive with Monkey Boy - $2.30/gallon; missed show - no real set amount; sleeping Monkey Boy - PRICELESS!
I was able to put him into the crib. Lady Bug sleeps on a pallet in their room. I was able to put her there after she fell asleep. About 2:30 Monkey Boy woke. He DID take a bottle this time. By 7:30 I had them both in bed with me. Now I'm ready for a nap.
All in all, it was a good experience, but I sure do wish she would wean him! Especially if I have to do this again.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Revisiting self doubt
I had another session of beating myself up emotionally this weekend. I revisited the world of doubting myself as to putting my dad in the Memory Support Unit. How could I put my father in a that locked unit? How could I not go visit everyday? I know how I would feel were it I. It would kill me to be dumped with no daily visits. I know this because I expect it! Yes, I know I do. I've only been in a hospital four times. Twice for child birth, and twice because ofaccidents, and I expected visits. As good as he is about some things, my husband is not one to sit in a hospital room, and I was in a snit.
When I broke my ankle, I had to have surgery to put a pin in it. I had a 24 hour, 59 minute admit - wonderful insurance - this was "out patient" surgery. G stayed during the surgery and recovery, but as soon as I was in my room, he was gone. He and my son came for a visit that evening, but they didn't stay long. I didn't like that! Yeah, it's all about me. The only child syndrome at its best. Seriously, I could have used a little help though. When it was meal time the nurse put the tray on the bed table not even setting it up for me. I guess I was freaked out because the doctor told me if I rebroke the ankle, pulling out the pin, there would have to be a bone graft from my hip. At this point I had only a soft cast. I was afraid to even move!
Back to Dad. When I do get out there, he is always the same. Sitting off to the side, head in hands, appearing to sleep. He always brightens when I speak to him, but he is at the stage that he simply parrots back questions most of the time. You can see him really searching for words when he tries to say something else. It kills me! With him being in this situation, and watching his fellow residents, just who in the world do I expect him to interact with. All those others are in their own worlds. They have no grasp on reality. Even the ones that I suspect to be a little more "with it" will begin speaking logically - then it's gone. They are out in left field somewhere. So it's no wonder he is always off alone.
My daughter keeps supporting me telling me that I did what I had to do. She keeps telling me that the father I grew up with is no longer with us. I KNOW that, but a part of me still believes he is still here. I think there is that hope that what I see is not true. But it is. I have been there when his memory has been tested. It is not there. I have to keep telling myself that he is safe where he is. That was not true when he was living independently. That would not be true if even he were living in my house. He would have wandered off as he proved to me. It may not be as true today because his arthritis in his knees is so bad. When he moves it is so slowly, but the general eveyday care would be beyond me.
As one faces old age, these thoughts come very clear. You see the way you don't want to be treated, but you also see what sometimes has to be done. All you can do is hope that you will be treated as well as possibe.If it's a way you never you wanted, hopefully you are in that other world and you won't even really know it.
When I broke my ankle, I had to have surgery to put a pin in it. I had a 24 hour, 59 minute admit - wonderful insurance - this was "out patient" surgery. G stayed during the surgery and recovery, but as soon as I was in my room, he was gone. He and my son came for a visit that evening, but they didn't stay long. I didn't like that! Yeah, it's all about me. The only child syndrome at its best. Seriously, I could have used a little help though. When it was meal time the nurse put the tray on the bed table not even setting it up for me. I guess I was freaked out because the doctor told me if I rebroke the ankle, pulling out the pin, there would have to be a bone graft from my hip. At this point I had only a soft cast. I was afraid to even move!
Back to Dad. When I do get out there, he is always the same. Sitting off to the side, head in hands, appearing to sleep. He always brightens when I speak to him, but he is at the stage that he simply parrots back questions most of the time. You can see him really searching for words when he tries to say something else. It kills me! With him being in this situation, and watching his fellow residents, just who in the world do I expect him to interact with. All those others are in their own worlds. They have no grasp on reality. Even the ones that I suspect to be a little more "with it" will begin speaking logically - then it's gone. They are out in left field somewhere. So it's no wonder he is always off alone.
My daughter keeps supporting me telling me that I did what I had to do. She keeps telling me that the father I grew up with is no longer with us. I KNOW that, but a part of me still believes he is still here. I think there is that hope that what I see is not true. But it is. I have been there when his memory has been tested. It is not there. I have to keep telling myself that he is safe where he is. That was not true when he was living independently. That would not be true if even he were living in my house. He would have wandered off as he proved to me. It may not be as true today because his arthritis in his knees is so bad. When he moves it is so slowly, but the general eveyday care would be beyond me.
As one faces old age, these thoughts come very clear. You see the way you don't want to be treated, but you also see what sometimes has to be done. All you can do is hope that you will be treated as well as possibe.If it's a way you never you wanted, hopefully you are in that other world and you won't even really know it.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Things didn't go as expected
Tuesday I had an appointment for my regular dental cleaning, and I was really feeling great about it. For the first time in a year there were no dental emergencies! No teeth were suddenly broken, no pain in any of my teeth, gums healthy and all that good stuff. The cleaning went so well. No pockets in the gums. Not much plaque. Great!!
Then the dentist came in to survey my mouth. When he asked for the camera, I knew I was in trouble. He took several pictures, then put them on the screen for me to see. The last top molar on the top was cracked. Even though there was no pain, if it were to be lost he couldn't even bridge it. After braces (and an abscessed tooth when I was 12) I'm already down a molar. I also don't have any erupted wisdom teeth, and the one I have unerupted gives no trouble - thank God! So the decision was that we would crown that molar ASAP.
Then the dentist began talking about the other 4 he want to crown, but these are more cosmetic that functional. Some unattractive fillings and one chipped tooth are the reasons for that. Suddenly we are talking about $5000. Internet, I am a retired Texas public school teacher. I simply don't have that kind of money! So they have this plan that you can get credit for 1 year without interest. I (silly me) thought we were referring to the $1000 plus some change for the one. Great! Finance that for a year. That won't hurt a bit. NO! We are talking the whole $5000. There is not that much extra money per month for me to do that. So, at this time, we are doing the one molar. When that treatment is complete we will then face the other. That means no!
My dental problems are my fault. For several years our dental insurance provided for a clinic. They were terrible! Consequently, I didn't go as I should. Even when I went, they missed problems I knew were there. When our insurance changed, and we could go to the good dentist, I still put off going. Then the teeth began breaking, and the odyssey began - and continues yet!
Then the dentist came in to survey my mouth. When he asked for the camera, I knew I was in trouble. He took several pictures, then put them on the screen for me to see. The last top molar on the top was cracked. Even though there was no pain, if it were to be lost he couldn't even bridge it. After braces (and an abscessed tooth when I was 12) I'm already down a molar. I also don't have any erupted wisdom teeth, and the one I have unerupted gives no trouble - thank God! So the decision was that we would crown that molar ASAP.
Then the dentist began talking about the other 4 he want to crown, but these are more cosmetic that functional. Some unattractive fillings and one chipped tooth are the reasons for that. Suddenly we are talking about $5000. Internet, I am a retired Texas public school teacher. I simply don't have that kind of money! So they have this plan that you can get credit for 1 year without interest. I (silly me) thought we were referring to the $1000 plus some change for the one. Great! Finance that for a year. That won't hurt a bit. NO! We are talking the whole $5000. There is not that much extra money per month for me to do that. So, at this time, we are doing the one molar. When that treatment is complete we will then face the other. That means no!
My dental problems are my fault. For several years our dental insurance provided for a clinic. They were terrible! Consequently, I didn't go as I should. Even when I went, they missed problems I knew were there. When our insurance changed, and we could go to the good dentist, I still put off going. Then the teeth began breaking, and the odyssey began - and continues yet!
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Rough Roads
As I mentioned last, we took "Wannabe Sports Car" sedan with us. In our part of that particular Texas county, the roads are not paved. It is in the hill country where boulders are the common topographical items. The roads, in other words, are not at all smooth. They are, in fact, the complete opposite of smooth.
Two years ago, my son had a real sports car. It was one of the only times he didn't have a truck. They were coming up to the property to hunt. At that time, our private road was really in terrible condition. Our "neighbors" were living on down the road, but H had not retired yet. He was still going to an adjacent town to work everyday. I really don't know how he managed that road twice a day, but he did. Getting back to my son, by the time they arrived, he was completely shaken. The car drug on rocks several times. He dreaded the trip back out also! Needless to say, they bought a truck in a short time so that trip would never have to be taken again.
Since H has retired, he bought a bull dozer and started to work on the road. D, his wife, told him that when they moved out there H had promised D that her mother could drive her car all the way to their house. Being a good husband, that is exactly what he did. When my husband asked if I thought Wannabe would make the trip, I told him I really believed it would. It would be the vehicle to take on out little day trips since it gets about 26 miles per gallon.
So the time came. Off we went. Things were great until we got to the county roads. They were rough, but Wannabe handled them like a champ! Not even a rattle. Then we made the turn from the first to the second. Obviously Happy Farmer (this I'm not making up - that is his name) had had his crew out to grade the road. This means turning the rocks over. There were many very loose rocks left in their wake. Wannabe wasn't happy. She felt like she was going to spin around. Forget the "traction control" - it seemed to be non existent. So as hubby in the green monster sped off, I was left to creep along.
When I finally got to the private road, he was out of the truck waiting. I guess he was about ready to come looking for me. He asked if I thought Wannabe would make it the rest of the way or should I park at his brother's place. I said I thought all would be well because H had done such a goods job.
So we started down the hill - SLOWLY. Things did great. The only thing that bothered me was the fact that I let a small mesquite scratch the side when I went over the first cattle guard. (Side note in Canada, these are known as Texas Gates!) We got to our cattle guard and things were still good. We started up the hill that our road is on, and I realized we really should have bull dozed again. I was almost at the top and it happened. I drug. What a noise! Fortunately there was no damage - at least it hasn't shown up yet and that was two weeks ago!
So just why didn't we have the road redone when we had other work done this year. The answer is simple. Our phone line was run right down the center of our road. In the ensuing times since the phone was put in, the weather has been almost rain forest wet - especially for this almost desert setting. The road is washing out. So now we have to weigh our options. Glad the son works for the local phone giant! He may get to string phone line!
Two years ago, my son had a real sports car. It was one of the only times he didn't have a truck. They were coming up to the property to hunt. At that time, our private road was really in terrible condition. Our "neighbors" were living on down the road, but H had not retired yet. He was still going to an adjacent town to work everyday. I really don't know how he managed that road twice a day, but he did. Getting back to my son, by the time they arrived, he was completely shaken. The car drug on rocks several times. He dreaded the trip back out also! Needless to say, they bought a truck in a short time so that trip would never have to be taken again.
Since H has retired, he bought a bull dozer and started to work on the road. D, his wife, told him that when they moved out there H had promised D that her mother could drive her car all the way to their house. Being a good husband, that is exactly what he did. When my husband asked if I thought Wannabe would make the trip, I told him I really believed it would. It would be the vehicle to take on out little day trips since it gets about 26 miles per gallon.
So the time came. Off we went. Things were great until we got to the county roads. They were rough, but Wannabe handled them like a champ! Not even a rattle. Then we made the turn from the first to the second. Obviously Happy Farmer (this I'm not making up - that is his name) had had his crew out to grade the road. This means turning the rocks over. There were many very loose rocks left in their wake. Wannabe wasn't happy. She felt like she was going to spin around. Forget the "traction control" - it seemed to be non existent. So as hubby in the green monster sped off, I was left to creep along.
When I finally got to the private road, he was out of the truck waiting. I guess he was about ready to come looking for me. He asked if I thought Wannabe would make it the rest of the way or should I park at his brother's place. I said I thought all would be well because H had done such a goods job.
So we started down the hill - SLOWLY. Things did great. The only thing that bothered me was the fact that I let a small mesquite scratch the side when I went over the first cattle guard. (Side note in Canada, these are known as Texas Gates!) We got to our cattle guard and things were still good. We started up the hill that our road is on, and I realized we really should have bull dozed again. I was almost at the top and it happened. I drug. What a noise! Fortunately there was no damage - at least it hasn't shown up yet and that was two weeks ago!
So just why didn't we have the road redone when we had other work done this year. The answer is simple. Our phone line was run right down the center of our road. In the ensuing times since the phone was put in, the weather has been almost rain forest wet - especially for this almost desert setting. The road is washing out. So now we have to weigh our options. Glad the son works for the local phone giant! He may get to string phone line!
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Incredible!
The news last night showed a 15 passenger van carrying old people that had been rear ended by a cement truck. The driver of the truck was so visibly upset. Then this morning it came out the van had a blow out. This resulted in, as of now, four deaths. So what's so incredible about this. Sad for sure by why would I think it was incredible?
This is incredible because a few hours earlier, I could have died because of a blow out. We had been gone to Little Bitty Hill Country Town for 10 days. Since we are out on dirt (read ROCK) roads, we usually take the 4x4 monster truck. We were going to visit surrounding areas, and 14 miles per gallon just doesn't do the trick. We decided to take my 4 door Wannabe Sports Car. The tales about the car and the rock roads are another story.
We were returning home yesterday. I was following the monster truck when I saw a car crossing the center stripe heading for me. All I saw was this car coming straight for me with door moldings flapping, but I could tell the driver actually was trying to keep to the right. As we passed, I saw him careen across the road to the shoulder on my side. About that time I passed a tire that was shredded. I thought he must have hit it and damaged his vehicle. I was so shaken. I really came so close to being hit head on.
About 45 minutes later we stopped for lunch. I was still very shaken. My husband was passing this vehicle when he heard the tire on that vehicle explode (which is something because his radio is usually at maximum volume when I'm not with him). He said that rubber went everywhere. His thought was that I would be hit by that vehicle. Our common thought was that other driver was really gifted. He was running at seventy on a tire rim.
I guess God was my passenger yesterday. I just wish he could have been with those old folks in the van. But more than anything I pray He was with that driver that spared me.
This is incredible because a few hours earlier, I could have died because of a blow out. We had been gone to Little Bitty Hill Country Town for 10 days. Since we are out on dirt (read ROCK) roads, we usually take the 4x4 monster truck. We were going to visit surrounding areas, and 14 miles per gallon just doesn't do the trick. We decided to take my 4 door Wannabe Sports Car. The tales about the car and the rock roads are another story.
We were returning home yesterday. I was following the monster truck when I saw a car crossing the center stripe heading for me. All I saw was this car coming straight for me with door moldings flapping, but I could tell the driver actually was trying to keep to the right. As we passed, I saw him careen across the road to the shoulder on my side. About that time I passed a tire that was shredded. I thought he must have hit it and damaged his vehicle. I was so shaken. I really came so close to being hit head on.
About 45 minutes later we stopped for lunch. I was still very shaken. My husband was passing this vehicle when he heard the tire on that vehicle explode (which is something because his radio is usually at maximum volume when I'm not with him). He said that rubber went everywhere. His thought was that I would be hit by that vehicle. Our common thought was that other driver was really gifted. He was running at seventy on a tire rim.
I guess God was my passenger yesterday. I just wish he could have been with those old folks in the van. But more than anything I pray He was with that driver that spared me.
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