Can't believe it is November already but glad to have October over. Hb started the day by spilling his cereal. He won't eat at the table (if it was available) so sits in his chair eating. Actually, neither of us sits at the table to eat since I have my computer there. That is one thing I was looking forward to in an apartment - having a table to eat at.
Slept until 11:15 this morning but did not get to sleep until after 2am. I should have stayed up when I got up to pee at 8. This late sleeping makes it hard for me to go to sleep earlier. For hb, I think he slept until I got up and he goes to bed by 11 if not earlier.
Welcome standard time - not. Wish they would leave it either daylight or standard, especially since standard is just 4 months now.
I moved one month ago tomorrow and I am so happy October is over. Your right, I wish they would leave the time alone. I just don't understand the need anymore. I think, and correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't the time change instituted to give farmers more light before they had electricity?
All the roofs were white this morning even though some trees still have leaves. The sun was out making everything bright orange and yellow and white. Up here halloween usually marks the turning point between cool and cold and this year is no different. Dianne always put up halloween decorations and bought a pumkin I would carve. She loved giving out the candy. We're on a court though where there's only one young family and the kids don't bother coming through for good reason. I gave out three last year and none this year so I'm plowing through 24 mars bars and have a sugar rush going on.
I can feel a heavy winter coming. We had tons of rain this summer because the jet stream has gotten a bit soft and is breaking off huge loops that just sit there for a while. I suspect that might continue. I'm playing the dating game already. I have to watch the dating even on cans and especially eggs because as a single person I'm running up against expiry dates. I've even thrown out peanut butter where I had to go down to the small size. But I'm going to stock up a bit anyway.
I don't think we paid much more for groceries when there was the two of us. In fact I think there might be some truth in the idea that two can live as cheaply as one - almost. One thing I'm spending more on is peanuts. I may have made a mistake teaching that family of bluejays about the peanut ejecting window. They come in waves and all of them have learned to fly right up in front of me on the window ledge and peer in. I've seen a jay pick up and drop three peanuts trying to figure out which one was better which is fine for the very fat squirrels that hang out in my back yard.
While they're hibernating in their leaf balls, I'm going to be in my winter studio painting La Ristorante scene where I've snuck in a self portrait in the poster on the wall. There's a mirror in this picture where I have to duplicate everything it reflects and that poster shows up there too except it cuts off the reflection right at the neck. I may be spending WAY too much time alone. Time of your life, huh kid?
I have my winter movie picked out. This will be the third year I play one movie over and over on my PC while I'm doing other stuff. Last year it was Grumpy Old Men. This year it's Ferris Bueller. I can already sing the theme song. Chicka-chick-kawwww!
I actually taught Dianne how to say that right. No amount of hanging and overdoing the last syllable is too much. Chicka-chick-kawwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. One day when she was three years old we passed a motorcycle shop and she looked at me smiling and said Yamahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. That's it right there.
Jazzy that was the original reason. They extended it to give more daylight hours to save energy. Studies have shown that the longer days actually uses more energy because people do more. A study I read yesterday said that children spend 2 minutes more a day playing during daylight savings time. That is not enough to warrant the torture of the rest of us.
I am enjoying that class University of Tasmania is having: Understanding Dementia. Plus, it is a good feeling to get 100% the first time on the quizzes. Good for my ego, especially since an IQ test on Facebook put my IQ at 128. In second grade it was 119. Guess I got smarter!!
Guess what! Day before yesterday in the afternoon....no no one proposed anything...but driveway and garden plans.....I became a Great Grandmother and a young one at that!!! My oldest step daughter ( we don't do the step bit) became a grandmother for the first time to a healthy 8#9oz 21 inch baby girl..with blonde hair...and baby came early too. And today is my little brother's birthday... And last evening no trick or treaters..we had rain, glorious rain...it has been I think more than200 days since we had rain..
Oh Wolf, I hear you about the dating game....so much gets tossed and it makes me sick with the prices so high now due to our drought. It is hard shopping for only one..economy packages of things are NOT good for us singles and finding the smaller items is not an easy task.
Wolf, thanks. I spent sometime yesterday putting up icicle lights on my patio fence for Christmas. I wanted them up before the cold days come. My hands can't do cold.
Snow tires go on tomorrow snow shovel bought yesterday.
I changed all the clocks last night.Boo, why do they have to change the time? So annoying. I'm going to get snow tires put on, since I'm going to Vermont and Canada later this month. I'm spending Thanksgiving at my niece's in Middlebury, and want to cross the border at East Berkshire and take a look at the countryside around Frelighsburg. I hope my passport is accepted--it is in the final months before I have to renew it---and I definitely do not look like my photo anymore! I am a little nervous that with the troubles in Ottawa, they are going to be very picky at the border crossings. I've been working hard at my French with my Pimsleur CDs, but tried to watch "Marguerite Volant" again, and still couldn't understand much. I love "Marguerite Volant", but figure it out mostly by watching the onscreen action and picking up the occasional French word or phrase. I wish it was available with sub-titles.
As some of you know, November came in with a bang here in Maine - a winter storm that dumped up to 12 inches of snow and knocked out a lot of power. The retirement home I live in lost power on Sunday about 4 PM and got it back today (Tuesday) at 11 AM, in spite of having an assisted living area, where my wife is, which should have been a high priority for getting power back. Several areas around us got power before we did, including our family home which is 8 miles down a dead-end road!!! At least the days have been warm so no problem with frozen pipes, but there is still lots of snow on the ground.
marsh, I'm surprised that your wife's unit was without power. I have a friend in an independent living building and she was told that in the case of a power outage, a generator would automatically take over. However, now that I write this, I remember that many places in Maine might not have natural gas, which I think is used to power those big generators. Is that the reason?
I'm wondering how the facility coped with the needs of the assisted living residents. When our power went out for a week three years ago, my husband became very confused.
After our 4 day power outage last February I decided, never again. This September I had a big propane powered generator installed in my back yard. I would think they would have something like that at the assisted living facility. Yes, natural gas would be better but this should keep us going for up to a week.
Myrtle, we had a generator, but that did not take care of all areas. Her room had only minimal light and none in bathroom. There was no entertainment due to no light in living room. My wife basically slept most of the time, but some of the resident got very confused and put a lot of strain on the staff. I sat with my wife for a couple of hours and had an interesting time watching the staff deal with the problems. To add to the problems, some staff couldn't get in due to the roads not plowed, so others had to work double shifts. The cottages, occupied by elderly individuals and couples in varying degrees of health, had no heat or light and they were unable to cook. I had no light in my apartment and could not cook. I would prefer a gas stove, but all apartments have electric. Our generators run on diesel.
Went to a basketball game in Toronto. Came home and kicked furniture. Now have very sore toe. Mental note to self. Don't do that. Dianne had a fever and the NH tried to reach me. I don't have a cell phone. No one called on it for over a year so I cancelled it years ago. I spend my whole time by that phone but the night I go out without a forwarding number!
Just heard from the x-friends. They're passing nearby, could I meet them at the highway, have a chat, and give them the painting I offered them of the three girls together. No I wrote back but you can come by and pick it up where I'll have it ready by the door. Some of the troglogdytes aren't allowed in the house anymore. (Bad dog said the near sighted eskimo to the wooly mammoth farther away. Oh crap he yelled running when it grew to the size of a house)
It's with serious disappointment that I also report that I may rent myself out as a doorstop. I've had an ok year for someone with his head in a vice but I'm a dullard inventing shiny new things to (rev! rev!) go and do. If I go and get a job it's problem solved. The minute I'm involved in something I have to get done with a group of people I belong with (in a cage but it's for money so...) I'm right as rain. God, what a retard I am.
"And what sort of salary are you looking for Mr Krause?" the interviewer asked. "Doesn't matter one bit. You are my therapy." and of course I don't say the truth, I flip on my Ethel Merman wig and belt out some tunes!
On a brighter note I'm getting closer to my first (and possibly last) effort at writing a story. The title is The Weekend I Grew Up and it's a fourteen year old boy in 1962 who comes from a quiet, proper family where nothing happens and he gets invited to spend the long weekend at the house of some relatives where everything happens - usually all at the same time. It's a big family, and they all have friends, and there is an old grandmother, dogs, cats, and a parakeet. It is where the sixties first appears for him, where people openly argue, have traumas, and hang their emotions out for all to share in. His first sexual encounter done somewhat and out of pity by the Joan of Arc of all females. The long talk with the grandmother where I unforgivably steal Tolkiens line "Your only task is to decide what to do with the time that is given to you". And the drive home where his parents picked him up at the train station and he rolled the window down letting the wind hit his face. He saw his parents look at each other and rolled the window back up. But life was never going to be the same - anyway, it may be my first shot at it. Time will tell.
I put the huge, green walkie-talkie up to my ear as the shells go off around me. I can barely hear HQ. "Have you met the enemy?" the captain on the other end yells. "Yes sir!" I shout into the thing. "And they are us!"
Now what the heck does that mean? I want to be happier and I stop myself from it. I'm in conflict in two lives one of which is quite painful actually and the other is hard to pin down. It's all inside me which is why (of course) I'm the enemy I'm fighting.
All right, Wolf, I don't think I'm a deep enough thinker to "get" most of this. I've read through it twice, and am a little bamboozled. So let's see…Do keep us updated about Dianne's condition--whether the fever turns out to be anything significant or if it is just a bug. And I doubt that you will need to rent yourself out as a doorstop.(I don't mean to laugh, but that was pretty funny!) If you are really looking for work, I will wish you good luck in your job search, and I'll absolutely wish you good luck in your short-story writing. I think it is hard to do--every word has to pull its own weight. So it sounds as if you are leading the Alzheimers spouse life…the one that is quite painful (understatement, as we all know), and you are trying to pin down what the other life--the non-Alzheimers life--is going to be. Soooo……based on your post…we are looking at you going to sports events, avoiding negative people, getting a job, and doing some free-lance writing. Well, I don't know…but it sounds like it could be a plan.
Hi Elizabeth, the joke about the job is that it's true. If I got involved in one it would solve my problem of what to do with myself and give me that ongoing connection to people. The doorstop comment is that I have no brilliant ideas on what to do with me.
Pretty much everything I say is something actually happening to me but no I'm not looking for a job. It's just that it's an actual solution.
I'll tell you something though. I think we have to watch what we think we're seeing. You ever look into water where you can see the fish among the weeds if you concentrate on the browns and you can see the sky and clouds if you concentrate on the blues? The images are mixed together, happen together, are seperate realities and meanings - or neither if we just see the top of the lake as a whole.
It's like that here eventually I'm pretty sure. When we're not up to our necks I mean and the realities of life alone are here. There's a painting I love called The Tangled Garden. It's all overgrown. I love that because I don't think it matters which forum we learn it through which might be our religion or our hobby or reading - whatever; it matters that we learn it through some method.
The thing about gardens is that the weed is arbitrary. In a bed of Petunias a Rose is a weed. And as every gardener knows the minute you plant the garden is the minute the weeds start growing. Let's say that I'm tending my Emotions or at least I'm hiring a gardener to do the actual work. Would I hire the wildman with the machete which is the quick character sketch of the average alzheimerspouse in regards to gardening Emotions. No.
Yet a quick look around reveals there is only me - the wildman with the machete to tend the garden of Emotions. This is a problem. And the thing to do there is to bring out the Hagen Daaz and put the machete down. Now some people think that's easy and most people have a hard time thinking about this because it's all tangled up in the pain.
It's not easy growing Emotions in a tangled garden of pain. It's much easier to plant a nice garden of flowers so all the neighbours know you're feeling a lot better.
I'll translate. I believe in virtually none of the externalities in getting genuinely better. I believe ALL of it is inside. I believe all the parts of life I held dear are ALL where I opened to it, I came to it, I allowed it, I wanted it, and so I did it. I've had my emotions burnt down to nubs and I can't fake or imagine that away. I have to stick my jaw out there and let it get smacked and bounce and the only way I've ever done that was when I was willing to live with the windows rolled down.
That's right. It all comes together. THAT is what the story is. The fourteen year old now knows where he is when he rolls the window up and is fine with it. He KNOWS he's getting along with his parents now. He also knows this isn't the life for him. That was - what he lived on that weekend. When he KNOWS that - then his life is changed and the garden isn't tangled.
Hi Wolf. That is a great painting. For others who may be reading this, "The Tangled Garden" was painted by J.E.H. MacDonald in 1916, and is in the National Gallery of Canada. It is easy to find online, if you want to take a peek. The picture combines pretty, probably purposefully-planted garden flowers with what look like weeds that are probably not supposed to be there. In other words, it is a good metaphor (? if that's the correct word) for a happy life that's being overrun by Alzheimers. As you said, Wolf, "A tangled garden of pain." But it is an evocative painting that I think I will keep going back to visit--I see why you like it.
I do think that there are some "externalities" that help in getting better. DH has been gone for ten weeks now, and I find that daily walks of around 45 minutes outside in the park make a huge difference for the better…mentally and physically. I just walk and think about him…look at the beautiful, changing scenery and the wildlife (different birds, squirrels, chipmunks, and the occasional deer), and it helps. When the leaves fall from the trees around me, I think about his dying. When I walk down to the bridge and watch the flowing water of the creek, I think about his life. Nothing takes away the loneliness of missing him and our life together, but all the walking at least helps the pain be not quite so painful. (Hard to explain.) So, fresh air and exercise, I guess is what I'm suggesting, to help what is, as you said, "inside." It sounds a little simplistic, but it's the best I have to offer at the moment.
Why is she spiking a temp? Have they figured it out?
Here's a poem about grief that's also apt for November. The moral of the poem is that although she does not realize it now, when Margaret is older she'll understand that she is not just mourning the dying leaves, but is also grieving her own mortality.
Spring & Fall: to a young child by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Margaret, are you grieving Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leaves, like the things of man, you With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? Ah! as the heart grows older It will come to such sights colder By and by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie; And yet you wíll weep and know why. Now no matter, child, the name: Sorrow's springs are the same. Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed: It is the blight man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn for.
The fever is subsiding today. Her bloodwork was clear and she has no sore spots so you ride it through. They went to Tylenol because they know my stance on the noxious unknowns that creep in when we pass two meds at the same time. There is zero medical information anywhere about the interactions of compound strong meds in the body at the same time and she's already on three of them. Society's thinking is so pitifully inadequate but we are where we are - at least they're not drilling holes in her head to relieve pressure - that was the nineteenth century.
Elizabeth, I can take that walk many different ways. I can not see the scenery and wildlife. I can feel hurt by the feelings it gives me. I can feel solace in it. I can associate the leaf dying with my own thoughts and miss that the tree is very much alive because of that very thing. Dropping the solar collectors from the summer to shut down the energy needed to run it's energy collections system and live the winter on the stored energy while partially 'hibernating'.
I'll make your walk the illustrator of my life journey now (as best I can).
The xfriends mentioned above wrote back that when they're returning from Michigan tomorrow they will call and come to the house to pick up the painting. My stance was that I'm not lifting a finger so I'm not driving anywhere to meet them. Now that they are coming though, I got up this morning knowing that I will have the painting by the door but that I will invite them in for the chat they mentioned if they still want to.
The reason is that while I still feel the old animosities and part of me wants to beat them around the head with a nerf bat (hard), I have learned somewhat to see past my surface reactions and open to what I really want. In other words choose Wolf. Rip them a new orifice where I have been practising for years and I'll bet they haven't (conflict avoider above any issue itself in the case of the woman and self perception that doesn't include failures in the case of the man). Or I take what I really want. Peace inside me where the obvious tactic of raising my voice while pointing out his faults shuts her down and assaults him - and solves precisely nothing.
In other words, I can validate my past hurt into the future or I can change the future to what I want. You see, the reason why the Hatfields and the McCoys were both a family of imbeciles is because while it's easy to understand how you arrive at deep resentment - it's self explanatory when we CHOOSE self destruction of our quality of life because we're so frigging livid about what someone did or said in the past.
Some people will reject this but I tell you it's because they aren't ready to see they took the mallet the other person hit them with and began hitting themselves with it. Whatever my friends want to do when I open that door is fine. I am learning the zen of empowerment where what I want is far beyond tomorrow afternoon and I can already feel the truth of that long before I open that door. I want. Full stop. And it's that which is the trick that turns the tale. Not the information, not the story, not the facts.
I agree there are externalities that have massive impacts. I know this personally because I had long periods where I had nothing to work with. I was enduring. I had no such thoughts. Externalities overpowered my 'usual self'. The healing I speak of these last three years has been nothing but nursing and protecting that self. It really is that basic. It was only as I came somewhat down that path that other possibilities began to appear.
On the next walk where you see, stop walking and take a deeper breath without thinking about anything. Then think this:
"Let's start helping ourselves more Elizabeth. Let's try and see more what that might be. Let's start small. I can do things. I know I can if I open up to them."
And who's talking to who? Elizabeth the soul is talking to Elizabeth the mind. The spirit is talking to the body it resides in and is intricately entwined with. Perhaps to strike up the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship. You never know. (I have a suggestion though. Use every drop of genuine sincerity you can find. Your mind is protecting you right now and you need convincing that you're ready to play for real. And then we have new thoughts. And that's how it works but this is another of those places no one looks - like prescribing four meds where no one know what any three of them combined do to you.)
Last comment if you consider this. Expect nothing. Just keep pitching sincerely. Feel the force Liz.
Myrtle, good poem as you explained. Death is not a blight we are born for though. That is Hopkins own opinion creeping into his writing. Death is the other door from the one I came in through. That's not your point though. It's that what we really feel is for ourselves. Which explains neatly why so many run away screaming from dementia.
Wolf, I never thought about it that way but you're right, our grief (and fear) about our own fate does explain why so many run away from dementia. And maybe that explains why your ex-friends are ex, but it does not explain why they had the gall to ask you to meet them at the highway exit to deliver a gift that you were giving to them. Or maybe they thought they could catch dementia if they came to your house to pick up the painting.
marsh, The power outage seems to be a problem without an effective solution. I can't imagine the size of a generator or the amount of fuel you'd need to power an entire ALF.
Myrtle, now now. These two wieners on a stick are just normal people with normal feelings. It's entirely possible they didn't want to intrude on me and it's certain they don't want to intrude on Dianne who is just five minutes away. Want to visit her? No?? No time? Ahh well.
I couldn't possibly overstate how much they hurt me back then. In lock step they never called, never came, and never asked while they wanted reaffirmation of how close we all were. They literally told me it was wrong to mention it. When I wrote them all saying we absolutely had to talk about this I never heard back.
I know how this works and it works like this. "It's unfortunate Wolf was having so much trouble dealing with it". You can put that in the bank. There is no handywipe like the focused mind. But life stepped in and Rita got cancer which was important enough for them to phone me and then Rita died which blew their cozy foursome up in their faces like Wile E Coyote and an ACME bomb. So Ron is struggling badly I hear and they have no one to play with. Here you go. Here's a painting of happier days. Want coffee with that?
See there really is no reason for the aggrieved party to accuse the perpetrator unless that person feels remorse. And of course there's no reason for the aggrieved party to relish in the misery of the perpetrator. Or to laugh at their terrible plan gone badly wrong. This is the fat lady singing. It's the last page of the book. He gave them the thing they wanted and so they faded away. Next!
I don't mind being honest. I would love for one of them to open up and see what might be salvaged. But I know people too well. Those that want integrity would have talked long ago whether they agree or not and those that don't just never do.
Wolf, I remember you speaking of these vile people before so why would you even open your door? Leave the painting on the doorstep with a polite note, such as "kiss my a... " They are not worth a cracker, save your breath to cool your porridge!
Actually, they might just be normal people with normal feelings but I think you hit it on the head when you said they don't care about integrity. Maybe that's the difference between them and the people who stick with us. Plus, to have integrity and live by what you believe is right, you have to have courage to draw on. They could be cowards.
Some time ago I decided that if people felt like they had the right to say or do thoughtless or cruel things to me, when I was already feeling pretty down and out from this whole situation, then I had the right to say how I felt about it. Sometimes I only say it late at night when I type it all out for my poor computer, but I'm getting better about saying it out loud to the people who hurt me. I try not to be as ugly to them as they've been to me, but I think at least it makes it harder for them to pretend they haven't done anything. Sometimes it's an honest mistake on their part, and it's usually followed by them apologizing and us having an honest discussion. When they start hemming and hawing and pretending like it's all my fault--well, then I know they're no longer on the Christmas card list, let alone anything else.
You know that thing they say about how beating your head against the wall feels so good when you stop? Well, having people hurt you starts to hurt less when you allow yourself to tell them to stop. And if they don't stop, then I hope they like my back view, because that's what they're going to be seeing.
It's hard to believe that before DH was diagnosed, I was very well mannered and soft-spoken. What you might call a lady. Times change, and so have I. I feel like when you live with this disease, you get a view of society that's not inflicted on everybody. I have a whole different view of the world now, and it's not really a good one. It seems strange that the people who have been the kindest and most thoughtful to us have been mostly strangers, while the people we poured our lives into over the years have dropped us like a hot rock. Can you ever go back to "normal" after that? I ponder that quite a bit, and so far the answer seems like "no".
Yeah, I guess we all "feel the force" as Wolf puts it. There's something about dealing with this disease and its inevitable aftermath that changes us, I think. It has changed me, not the least because my mother died this year, and s-i-l was booted out of DD's home just two weeks after DH died…as I've posted elsewhere. There is just a cavernous emptiness around me, with the loss of the people who until quite recently--impaired or not--were still here. I felt a little outside of myself during my walk today--the landscape was all grays, rusts, greens, and a little gold…with most of the leaves off the trees. I walked just before dusk, in a sort of other-worldly gray dim light. I've let myself have a "down" day at home--not really doing anything except reflecting quietly on things…should have washed my hair, and didn't. I think a lot about the people who were not there for me during the Alzheimers journey, but who are there now, to some extent. The people I would most like to be with are all dead and gone…and I am skeptical about the ones who are still around. I will just keep my boundaries up, and take things carefully, one step at a time. And no big decisions until next September, as I've said. Tomorrow I'm going to make myself put on a nice outfit again, and go to Mass. I might join the choir after the first of the year--don't want to join now because I'm just not up to it, and there probably isn't time to learn their Christmas music anyway. Also tomorrow I'm going to take a break from the computer…just turn it off tonight and leave it off until Monday morning…I think sometimes I'm cruising the Internet too much, rather than engaging with "real" things like more music practice or book reading…or housework. Ha-ha.
I'll finish the story. My friends left an hour ago with the painting and they are X no longer. We talked for over an hour where it bounced around just like it used to. Nobody pulled out dirty laundry although we refered to it. I found out Rita wasn't afraid when she found out she was going to die and I'm getting a picture of her with a margaurita in one hand and her rolling IV drip in the other. One of the nephews is married now. And I talked at length about Dianne and her condition and what it's been like and nobody flinched an eyelash. Instead they wanted to know and asked questions.
She inherited the huge rambling cottage I love and at the door as they left we all agreed we would like to re-enter each other's lives and when she looked at me I smiled and said "invite me" and I think that's what's going to happen.
I decided by feeling inside me and trying to be honest with what I want. I want this to continue and I've grown enough as a man to reach for the true answer - not the one dictated by ego that humans are frail and humans disappoint and while we are willing to fight for things we believe in - forgiveness of each other is not commonly what is meant by that.
Unfortunately this means I only have my other nephew to skewer until that day comes too and I do something similar. I'm finding that baggage is a lot like baggage. A pain in the butt to lug around and you never use what's in it anyway. Bye bye I said tearfully as I kicked it off the moving train. I did that the same second I said "invite me" knowing I would come.
Good to hear that all ended well, Wolf. I think that fear is one of the reasons that good people turn bad but this just shows that they can also turn back into what they were, your good friends!
I for one am amazed that it turned out this way, but think it was good that neither side dug into past grievances and just plugged along in the present. It's hard to understand why after ignoring you for so long, they are now acting like genuine and straightforward human beings. Earlier you suggested that they might have been forced into confronting real life when one of the group, Rita, died of cancer. I wonder if they're embarrassed about their previous behavior. Well, I sure hope that things work out and that they do not turn back into troglogdytes.
Thank you for telling us what happened. I think a lot of us have been following your story because we have had similar experiences with friends and even family members. Maybe there will be some degree of reconciliation in our futures, too.
What I know is that all three of us standing in that hall wanted it to work. I know also that I've been all over the map inside and when the moment came I didn't hesitate because that was the truth I felt.
I'm not interested in how they feel about their previous behaviour. Everyone has a strike against them in everyone's eye so the only question is do we want to sreech about the past or do we want something else.
There's a scene at the end of Romeo & Juliet where the mayor reams out the Capulets and Romulans for their constant bickering. "All are punished!" he declares, "All are punished."
Same here. If they struggle with it, I'll help them. I'm not afraid of being hurt or over reacting when I am. I'm sticking my chin out there honestly. It's not their integrity that is interesting here. It's mine.
Allow me to share with you a completely different (short) story. My problems are with my BIL's son. This is about one of my sister's sons. I got him his first job downtown. He's never come to see Dianne but every rememberance day (Nov 11) he has the day off (banking job) and takes this day to come see his uncle Wolf and invite him to dinner with his family and stuff (which never happens). We have lunch though and can talk for ten hours without breathing.
I just got his email minutes ago and he works in Corporate Services and Enterprise Shared Services (CSESS). This is his email:
[Hi there... would you happen to be free for me to come join you at your home on Tuesday? Lunch, coffee and of course conversation... let me know. I'm hoping it will work for me to come there.]
And here is my emailed reply:
My personal secretary (a male): "Excuse me sir, there' s someone at the door asking if you can work for them on Tuesday."
Me: "Well did they say who they are?"
My personal secretary: "Yes. Someone representing CSESSpool or something."
Me: "Well yes, I suppose I could squeeze them in."
My personal secretary: "Yes, squeeze them in the cesspool. How droll. I'll tell the gentleman."
Me: "Get a time. They never bloody give a time."
....
And just last night I was in bed thinking I wasn't getting my annual pilgrimage on rememberance day where it would be so easy to skewer him with his immediately wiped invites and complete lack of concern the rest of the year. Except I was like that with my uncles whom I truly did love. No time. And this is the one day he has off where the kids are in school and his wife is at work and what does he spend that day doing? Going up to see uncle Wolf.
I've decided to be obnoxious tomorrow. It has to start with an 'o' and I thought of obtuse and overbearing but I'm picking obnoxious so when I answer the door tomorrow I'm immediately going to turn back into the house and say "You're not the good looking girl I ordered" whereupon I presume he will open the door and follow me inside.
And that's a big mistake said the spider to the fly because my ever ready bunny isn't just fully charged. I have sparks coming out of my finger tips.
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In this dementia journey I have been tortured, broken, beaten, abused, forgotten, isolated, and have lost the only thing I truly deeply loved in life where to save myself I put her into a cage (locked up ward some people call it). For eight years I lived without hope and consumed by Alzheimers. I'm wired to will myself to survive. The hard part which I did not know was to like again, to love again, to laugh again, and to live again.
When I turned to my god he showed me that I had 56 years of easy bliss and 8 years of hardship. He said I will end up choosing one and that's all there is. I told him that was so cliche but he shrugged pointing out that's actually how it is and offered that I could look inside and if I was objective about it I would see it really was what I'd been doing all my life already.
It turns out that's right. I'm going to have some fun tomorrow with my nephew because I want to and there is no other reason. And I know that Dianne would be pleased that I'm walking out of the henhouse of her family without plucking any easy targets and I will leave them alone and even help them. Yup. But that's not for you Dianne. I don't need to kick the chickens to feel happy. I just needed to understand that it's empowering my own choices which turned them into chickens.
"Gawk! Gawk!" said the chicken. "That is so true." answered Wolf.
Cold weather on its way. I am sure many of us are bracing for it. The last two winters I have one place the hot water freezes at night - where the connection shoots off to the outdoor shower. Last winter I let the hot water run some to keep it moving. This year I got heat tape but have not decided how to run it. For tonight I have a 'trouble' light with a 60 watt bulb in it right over the area. I took a picture of it, printed it out to take to the RV repair shop to ask the guy which of three options would be best: as it is with the light; run the heat tape over the line; or turn the hot water tank off at night and let a combo of hot/cold run all night. I wanted to make sure if the water was moving the hot water tank would not freeze up. When we were walking out of the motorhome hb had the printed picture in his hand. When we arrived he could not find it. Can't find it in the MH either. Maybe he ate it!!!
A neighbor lady, the one I chat with all the time, walk her dog and go for rides in her golf cart when she takes the dog out to run, is leaving today for Henderson, NV to see about a possible job. It will be living with a lady who does not want to leave her home but her daughter wants someone to be living there in case something happens to her mom. She only has to be there at night. If it works out she will move down there the end of the month. We get to 'doggy sit' while she is gone. So through Friday we will have a fulltime dog. It will give me a chance to see if I really want the 24 hours responsibility of a dog before I get one.
Her timing is not great since it will be freezing and her water will be turned off. Praying her pipes don't freeze. I will go over during the day, turn her water on to make sure it has not frozen.
Emotionally I am trying not to think about it. The end of September the lady next to us left. I thought we were friends. Found out she did not go to Texas after all, is still in the area. She has not called me so I guess we were just 'friends' while she was a neighbor. If "P" leaves, I will be alone again. Yes, I chat with others in the park, but none that I am friends with. When she told me about it over a week ago, I told her she would be a fool not to check it out and take it if it looks good. She wants to travel to somewhere else, explore our country, etc. I am encouraging her even though inside it is hurting but I won't let her know (she probably does). She made the comment that next year we will leaving, another friend of her's in the park will be leaving and she wants to be first to go so she is not left alone. I know how she feels.
Hb does not know. I am just telling him she is going to Vegas to visit a friend for a few days. Once she knows for sure then I will tell him and prepare him for her leaving since he is emotionally attached to him and the dog. It will be hard on him. Going to be a long, cold, lonely winter!
While you guys are thinking thanksgiving and Joan might be out tanning herself, I am snowed in where it's snowing for the third day in a row and I may have to hitch the cats up to the sled and go out looking for supplies soon. Yah, funny for you but the cats hate that.
Wolf, I was thinking of you this morning, and suspected that you might be snowed in. Hope both you and the cats have enough supplies to ride it out. It has been cold here for a few days but now it is up to 40 degrees F (about 5 degrees C ?). I grew up in new Hampshire and decided I'd never live in the north again. PA isn't warm but we don't get the snow they have further north. Well, there are exceptions like last winter.
I'm hearing Buffalo is under several feet of snow and is getting another snowfall. We usually don't get snow this early but we certainly are this year.
I always have tins of tuna, salmon, and ham and frozen bread in the freezer plus a few cans of soup and beans etc. The thing that has saved me a few times is the dry pasta and jars of spaghetti sauce.
I know about global warming, but between that and the next ice age, there's not much to choose from. This will all melt though. It's Buffalo that is getting pounded. It seems to be a stationary lake-effect now which to be honest I've never heard of.
It's a cold wintry night up here in the frozen north but I'm snug thanks to central heating chugging along (new furnace). I hope that everyone can feel the good karma I'm sending out into this good night unless you're on the west coast and it's daylight. As the world turns this good night is coming to a theatre near you and much later to Coco if she's in Hawaii. The karma I'm sending is a moment of peace inside to all caregivers every one of us and even to those who aren't but could use a moment feeling like that.
All of the turkeys are frozen solid out there and shatter when you try to catch them which explains why canucks don't celebrate thanksgiving on the fourth thursday of november. A lot of people think Canadians invented ice hockey but there is a painting called Hunters In The Snow where there's at least one person on skates with a curved stick. It was painted in 1565 I think so...not so much.
What a nice post, Wolf. I needed something like that…while enjoying my evening with a glass of chilled white wine, the fireplace stoked up, flameless candles here and there around the house, and myself playing a few carols on the piano---my salmon in the oven baking in a scrumptious marinade of mostly brown sugar and bourbon-- suddenly it went flambé. BOOM--Flash of fire--and while I was just standing in front of the stove--not bending down toward the oven--it was enough to singe off my bangs. (Fringe--as short front hair is called in the U.K.) Fortunately DD and the grands were nowhere near the stove…and all's well that ends well…salmon was delicious…but in the future I will use my other, non-flammable marinade based on lemon juice and Worcestershire sauce and such. I suppose I had best keep my hair on my head and not burn it off due to my cooking adventures.
A typical frosty, snowy winter evening here. Peace to everyone. [This message brought to you by the Boardman Fire Dept. Hee-hee.)
Here's a clip of a Toronto hockey game where the power glitched during the singing of the American national anthem a couple of days ago. The Canadians finished singing it together and not a bad job really.
I looked up that picture - sure looks like they are playing hockey!
Elizabeth can you cook the alcohol off before putting it on the salmon?
Took hb to the VA in Walla Walla to get his glasses fixed. I changed from the style of frames he has worn for years to the half frame type because the other kept loosing the screws. About a month ago (only 2 months after getting them) he informed me the end of one of the arms was broken. He could not remember how it happened - thinks they fell off when he bent over and stepped on it. Looks like it was chewed but the scratches could be from the asphalt. I had bought the plastic cover to go over the ends but within a week the tip was broke off. I figure he played with it trying to figure it out. So now he has new frames and will see how long before the next incident.
Weather warmed up above freezing but was foggy all day. Then started to rain - a rarity for this area. We're suppose to have a week of above freezing even at night. Hope so!
Oh Canada, our home and native land…Oh Canada we stand on guard for thee! After watching that nice video, I will definitely have to memorize the Canadian national anthem. It seems like the right thing to do. (Question for the Canadians: Would it be a good idea to learn it in both English and French? Do you all sing it both ways?)
Charlotte, if I want to do a bourbon marinade, I just will pour it off before putting the salmon in the oven. But I'm a little afraid now--as I said, will do one of my other marinades and just drink the bourbon. Hahahahahahahaha.
When DH was still alive, things got to the point where he kept damaging both his pairs of glasses. He just didn't seem to have the awareness of how to be careful with them anymore. Fortunately, due to previous cataract surgeries, he could see quite well without them.
Those people who do look like they're curling are on the closest ice patch. Look at the next ice patch up at the single person to the bottom left of that patch. He's clearly holding a curved stick. I magnified it years ago and went to check before I posted. That's an early hockey stick or I'm a monkey's uncle.
Elizabeth,
I wouldn't touch that question with a ten foot pole. Quebec can answer that one. I definitely agree on the fish though. Drink the bourbon and call the fish marinated. Have two and diss the fish "Uh uh girlfriend! You are done!" (you have to wag your finger at it when you say that side to side. Just imagine that you're Queen Latifah with earrings the size of dinner plates.)
If you're actually going to try that don't forget to overact by a thousand miles more than you think you need to and make sure you look the fish right in the eyes. They hate that because they can't blink. Well...I guess that's not really an issue at this point in their careers.
It was at hockey games I learned the American national anthem. "Oh say can you see...my eyes then my hair's too short." Remember the musical wonder Hair. Whatever happened to that? Oh yes, hair is out. Everybody shaves themselves all over so they look like penguins these days. I think being a hair rug was part of what weighed on Robin Williams. I can't say that but I was told a couple of times back a thousand years ago how somebody liked my hairy chest. Two decades later you hear young people whispering "look at the neanderthal." On the other hand I can go three days without shaving and it looks like I'm trying to be fashionable. Life should come with updates. At least I don't wear white after labour day or is that out too?
I miss the old days when women were property and white guys ruled. I was ok with the sixties though where women said they wanted their opinion to matter and they didn't want to wear bras anymore. "Ok." I said.
Now it's all so different I don't know what's going on. The young can have the place so smug and skinny in their tight fitting skin. I'm content to watch us land volkswagons on comets streaking by and whatever else the heck it is they're doing. Oh look. A war in the middle east. Who knew?
OK, I see the hockey stick now. Just looked up hockey and curling on Wikipedia, which say that both sports were played in Europe at the end of the Middle Ages. Makes sense since that was about the time the Little Ice Age began. Speaking of that, I feel bad for the people in Buffalo who are supposed to be hit with flooding due to the melting snow.
I finally got back to doing the online course from Tasmania University 'Understanding Dementia'. One of the lessons today, the speaker was saying that only 3 of 10 are helped at all with the dementia drugs and it is only proven to delay the end by probably 6 months. He gives people the option of the drugs but do not think they are worth it. Found that interesting only 30% because I had read before just under 50%. But they have a big clinic there that treats dementia patients and he is probably more correct in his experience.
So far enjoying it. Right now I am in - living with dementia where they have those with dementia talking. The first part of the was dealing when diagnosed. They were telling the story of a woman diagnosed, how her family fought taking her to the doctor, the doctor's reluctance to investigate the possibility of AD (even though the lady was 82), the denial and how to deal with it. I could so identify because of all we go through here. The last section of it is the caregiver.
A good friend just called. She lives in the countryside about an hour from me and said that her daughter and son-in-law would be arriving here by bus from NYC late tomorrow afternoon. She was afraid that she would not be able to pick them up because of the heavy snow we are expecting. I assured her that I would meet them at the station and tuck them away in my guest room until the plows open the roads on Thursday morning.
This got me thinking about those who will be traveling on dark roads and those who will be spending the first holidays without their spouses. And also those of us who will be thinking and worrying about them. Here is a song for all of us.
Blessed Are . . . (Words and music by Joan Baez)
Blessed are the one way ticket holders On a one way street.
Blessed are the midnight riders For in the shadow of God they sleep.
Blessed are the huddled hikers Staring out at falling rain, Wondering at the retribution In their personal acquaintance with pain.
Blessed are the blood relations Of the young ones who have died, Who had not the time or patience To carry on this earthly ride.
Rain will come and winds will blow, Wild deer die in the mountain snow. Birds will beat at heaven's wall, What comes to one must come to us all.
For you and I are one way ticket holders On a one way street. Which lies across a golden valley Where the waters of joy and hope run deep.
So if you pass the parents weeping Of the young ones who have died, Take them to your warmth and keeping For blessed are the tears they cried And many were the years they tried. Take them to that valley wide And let their souls be pacified.
I wish everyone who might be traveling into the Northeast for the Thanksgiving holiday safe travels because of the snow....oh, I forgot, most of us are staying home in our dementia prisons. Happy Thanksgiving anyway.
I made it up to Beacon, NY last night--went out to breakfast with friends this AM as the snow was starting--no problems on the local streets, other than pouring snow. I have good snow tires and a 2012 SUV with all-wheel drive, and am all loaded up with snow shovel, rock salt, battery lanterns, extra snow brushes…but called my niece in Vermont and told her I am not even attempting to drive up there today--I will get up there when I get there. I may be eating Thanksgiving dinner here with the Beacon friends if I don't like the looks of the roads tomorrow. (And then leftover turkey in Vermont. Probably no time to get to Quebec on this trip.) Anyway, I'm cosy, warm and safe--we will probably have some wine pretty soon…and I'll hoist a glass to DH and absent Forum friends--Happy Thanksgiving to all. I'll "see" you all soon on the message boards.