Mom-Sequiturs

I administer eye drops to Mom every day, once in the morning and twice in the evening. One Rx is for glaucoma and the other is for macular degeneration. Mom used to do it herself but it wasn't working because, in the end, all she was doing was pulling out her lower eyelid and dribbling drops down her cheek (she wasn't even getting close) so now I do it.

I have to warm the drops in my hand since she is very sensitive to the "cold" (room temperature) liquid and she doesn't put her head back far enough (because of the strain it puts on her spine--which is why she wasn't able to get near her eyes when she was doing it herself) and she tends to flutter her eyelids so the drops often end up in her eyelashes or on her cheek anyway (except, unlike when she was doing it herself, I keep at it until we succeed) so she comments whenever we hit it just right.

Last night we got one drop square on her left iris. First try.

She smiled and exclaimed, "Bird's eye!"

Reading Habits

Mom has started reading again. I attribute this almost entirely to her Exelon patch.

Before, she would read and re-read and re-read the same magazine article or catalog page. It looked like OCD but it was really just her inability to absorb anything she read. At one point she asked for a book and I got a large-print mystery from the library for her but she quit it half way through saying she'd read it already and that it was all familiar. It was a new release so I know she hadn't seen it before. She's done the same thing with sports on TV, claiming to have seen the game before and either "knowing" how it comes out or wondering why "they" changed things this time.

But, lately, things seem to have changed. She is now on her third book in six weeks (another mystery) and is not only completing them but enjoying them as well. She's using a bookmark to keep place and I do not see her starting over, going back, repeating pages or otherwise betraying any indication she is not getting the full experience.

She also seems to be forgetting fewer words and she even remembers what day it is--sometimes (usually on weekends ever since I instituted French toast Sunday breakfasts).*

*It's a question the docs always ask and it's not really fair IMHO since all her days are pretty much the same and tend to run together.

"And You Can Be On the List!"

I had noticed during my morning walks the largest burrowing owl nesting site on my route, where a family of five had spent much of last year, seemed to be slowly constricting in size. The safe zone, marked off by white plastic pipes, within which humans should not tread appeared smaller, several poles now so close to burrows it seemed the owls would feel crowded. I have no idea if someone (legally or illegally) was moving the posts, or if it was my imagination, but I had not seen any owls there for months now. (One other large site has never had many inhabitants as far as I can tell and a small one in the median of the main street is occupied.)

This morning I almost missed the owl that has taken up residence in the site. I noticed it at the last second, stopped, said "Hello," and moved on whereupon it flew onto one of the plastic pipes and began screeching, at me or not I couldn't tell. It's a deeper sound than the larger hawk makes. But it still translates as "I can kill things!"

I'm just happy to know they're back.

Irrational Exuberance

On one of the streets along the route of my morning walks there are three houses in a row that appear to be victims of the housing crisis. The first, for a long time, had a sign out front reading "Open House." I believe the realtor parked in an empty driveway across the street. (The driveway has been in for years but there is no building on that lot.) Now the sign simply says "For Sale." The second house (with the equivalent of a five car garage--two in the side and three in the back--but, fortunately, not the usual "garage doors are the facade of our house" design) has a "For Sale" sign and a tube for taking printed info on the house.

The third was the most entertaining of all. The sign out front read "Not Yet For Sale. Call ###-####." That sign is now gone and there was a guy in there with a paint can and brush.

Beyond the third house was an empty lot. I say "was" because yesterday, in the middle of all this unsold real estate, somebody started building on that lot. They did some leveling yesterday and this morning they were pouring the foundation.

There are several other houses in the neighborhood up for sale (including one with a "Pre-Foreclosure Sale" sign) and I know of at least two more that are just plain abandoned.

One admires the optimism.

Presumption of Age/Age of Presumption

I've gotten used to the idea that my barber will automatically trim the hair in my ears. But, at least, the first one to do it (Sherm) asked permission.

Yesterday marks the second time in a row my barber here in Florida has trimmed my eyebrows--without even a "by-your-leave"!

You presume much, sir! You presume much!

(I think I resent it even more because it is necessary, the results look good, and it does take a few years off. The Gandalf brows only work if I don't cut my hair or beard either.)

Sisters

Mom's kid sister telephoned yesterday. Actually, the procedure was closer to that used by heads of state, self-important CEOs and movie moguls ("Get me Matt Damon's people!"). My cousin Elaine called me to let me know that her mom wished to speak to my mom if Mom was available. I said she was and we both went to put the old girls on the line. Mine got there first and kept shouting into the phone, "Hello? Is anybody there?" even after my aunt was on the line.

The conversation sounded something like a multiple translator hot-line dial-up between the US president and the USSR general secretary, too, if they were both deaf and half-senile.

"Don't speak so loudly, I can't hear you."
"You're where? Where are you calling from?"
"Oh, that's nice. What did you do? Where are you?"
"Where am I? Where am I?" ("You're home, Mom.") "I'm home. They've fixed it up nice so people can come in and help." (It's just my brother and me. No one comes in.)
"What did you do? Ice cream? Where?"
and so on. . ..

Mom thinks her sister has lost/is losing her mind and she has had at least one stroke, but, honestly, whenever I've seen my aunt (last spring when my cousin, Gerry, died) she seems to be doing just fine. Mom's the one who is ahead in this race.

They had a nice conversation during which about one third of the potential amount of information was actually exchanged, and then Elaine came back on the line, and I was going to have Mom give me the phone so I could ask her for some genealogical information on that side of the family, but the phone's battery died and being the old piece of junk that it is, it has no memory, or last call redial, or anything of that sort so I'll have to try and find her number somewhere else.

The New Year

So, we survived the Holidays reasonably well. The lawn ornaments are down, and the tree is coming down today. We didn't have as many blow-up penguins and snowmen as last year and, it seems to me, they weren't up as long. The weird tree ornaments didn't freak me out quite as much, either.

I made three batches of cookies between Thanksgiving and Christmas: one each of chocolate chip, sugar, and oatmeal raisin. They're all gone, too, though the effects of all those calories will be with us for a while. Made homemade split pea soup from scratch yesterday and Mom, ever the New Englander, pronounced it the best way to start the New Year and had seconds. (Personally, I think the french toast for New Year's Day breakfast was the best way to start, but that's just me.)

Mom is holding up quite well both intellectually and physically. She's got a sore on her gum under her dentures which is limiting her to soft food (french toast qualifies) and we'll see the doctor Thursday for that. We got a new microwave for Christmas and it didn't take her that long to re-learn to re-heat her coffee in there instead of on the stove top. Half the time she makes her own breakfast and snacks and she is diligent about straightening up her room and making her bed (even if it takes her an hour and she doesn't remember to do it until two hours before bed time).

The weather has warmed back up, too. 65 for my morning walk and close to 80 for a high despite the cloud cover. We're leaving the doors open during the day again.

All in all, we're off to a good start.