Thinking of Alternative Therapies

Had to give Mom a sleeping pill last night after she kept popping out of her room every half hour. Three times in less than two hours. This was the fourth night in a row. I feel bad about it because the pill affects her memory (just what she needs) and leaves her exhausted and foggy the next day despite (or maybe because of) getting fourteen uninterrupted hours of sleep.

We have a doctor's appointment scheduled for next week. I'm thinking of asking him for a placebo and seeing if the psychological effect of just taking a pill will cause her to relax and sleep without all the side effects.

Otherwise, I hate the thought that the treatment for one issue is aggravating another.

Portent of Sounds To Come

Our warm winter (89F at the end of February) may presage a loud summer.

Last night I was sitting at the computer with the window open (despite the infrequent cloudbursts and occasional distant lightning) when I heard a loud *THUNK* on the window screen. Now, the cat knows which room is mine and will sometimes pound on the screen and complain if she thinks she's being ignored or wants something. So I glanced around behind my CRT prepared to shoo her away.

It wasn't the cat. It was a frog, pale green, almost white on the belly (which was the part presented to me), a little more than 2" long head to butt. It hung on the screen for a few minutes, looking as comfortable as if it was sitting flat on the ground, before launching itself back into the darkness.

Last year we had a bullfrog chorus most of late summer in the treeline. If the frogs are already out in February, I can only imagine how long and loud this year's concert might be.

Neighbors

My brother is out buying a new chain for Neighbor Mike's chainsaw.

It turns out that Neighbor Mike and Neighbor Mike's Girlfriend were in a serious motorcycle accident back in December. Both were hospitalized and Neighbor Mike's Girlfriend was in a coma for ten days with a blood clot on the left side of her brain. We only found out a few days ago. Neighbor Mike hangs out at a different club from my brother otherwise we might have known sooner. His club held a fundraiser for them to help out with some of the bills. (NM'sG doesn't have insurance and she's up over $20K so far.)

We found out because Neighbor Mike came over yesterday to borrow an extension ladder. His company has him on disability leave and won't let him back yet and despite the fact they are paying him they're combined income is now half what it was. So he's taking odd jobs around the neighborhood and another neighbor agreed to pay him for trimming a palm, for which he needed a ladder he didn't have. After my brother gave him the ladder he offered to pay Neighbor Mike to take out a line of bushes between our properties and to cut down an orange tree that has been a disappointment for years.

Today, the two of them are out there clearing the jungle. Unfortunately, in trying to cut as close to the ground as possible they cut into the ground, which will ruin a chain faster than just about anything else. So my brother has gone to get a replacement chain and Neighbor Mike is tackling some relatively easy branches in the meantime.

And Neighbor Mike's Girlfriend is recovering slowly. The doctor's say she will probably not have any permanent damage.

Not the Hunter Type

I was pleasantly surprised to notice a couple of small lizards skittering across the entry foyer this morning. I'd seen a rather large one hanging on the screen of the lanai room yesterday. So they're out of "hibernation" or wherever they go during "winter."

I was worried they might be gone permanently from the front of the house because of the cat. She has appropriated one of the cushioned lawn chairs as her official bed and snoozes at various spots (depending on the position of the sun) along the front walkway. She's not any kind of hunter at all and I didn't think the lizards were in real danger. But I thought they might still steer clear of her.

Apparently, they're not much more concerned with her than the birds are. In the evening I can usually hear a bird in the bougainvillea, no more than three feet over the cat's head, yelling at her, and during the day when all the doors are open she can see straight through the house to the birdbath in back with its various rotating congregations of bathers and drinkers yet she can't be bothered to do anything about it.

She's too busy plotting ways to trick us into letting her inside.

Mom, Here and There

After two days of Mom bouncing out of her room all night like a cuckoo in a clock, for some reason she slept through last night without a break. No meds, or anything I can identify, just "I think I'll go to bed now," and off she went not to rise until this morning.

She had been particularly dozy most of yesterday afternoon and evening, being a bit OCD reading and rereading the nutrition information printed on the back of her mini-box of raisins. And she was determined to write/draw on her own hand in ink complaining "Whatever happened to personal freedom?" when my brother and I made her stop and threatened to take the pen away. After that she just sort of napped on and off after dinner until she went to bed.

This morning she woke early, had a doughnut and coffee and then a second breakfast of cereal and coffee followed by a cup of coffee after which she promptly dozed off having built up an eight decade resistance to caffeine. She snored lightly for about fifteen minutes then suddenly woke and asked me "How many bees do you have left?"

I told her I thought she was still dreaming. She replied, "Well then, I guess I'll go do my chores," went to her room and laid out a week's worth of clothes on her bed.

Welcome to the 21st Century

It's getting easier and easier to spot the business owners/managers who have not been able to make the transition to the new world. I say this as someone who was born when Truman was president and Stalin was secretary general. Apparently all the implications of the existence of the Internet have not yet sunk in with some people.

I'm looking at you Boston Red Sox down here for spring training at your new venue JetBlue Park.

jetbluepark.com

For the record, the kid who bought this domain claims to be a Cubs fan. Best $8.00 he ever spent.

Current Events

Well, ten months after my youngest nephew returned from a tour in Iraq, he's back in the Persian Gulf. At least this time he's aboard ship and unlikely to go ashore.

Normally the only naval personnel to go ashore like that are corpsman, front line medics, who get assigned to Marine units. (Ask the Marines their opinion of those guys.) The Navy, however, which apparently taught him Arabic, sent him to help the Army in Iraqi Kurdistan do some glorified police work.

The ship he's assigned to was already in the Gulf (and in the news) so it looks like the Navy flew him to Bahrain last week to join the tour in progress. I told Mom and my brother about the reassignment but not the deployment.

I'm going to be very upset if the bloviating chickenhawks back here manage to get him in the way of a shooting war with Iran.

Signifiers 2

Another way to tell you're in southern Florida (but only in the Spring):

The TV news hacks and the local newspaper all track the journey and arrival of the Red Sox equipment truck on its 1500 mile odyssey from Fenway to JetBlue Park. (Apparently, it's also an official holiday in Boston.)

For what it's worth, the Twins' truck has also arrived.

The Red Sox truck carries the players' personal effects as well, including their golf clubs. That's dedication.

It Just Doesn't Get Any Better

This has been pretty much the perfect day, so far.

Mom went to bed late (for her) and woke up early (for her) but most importantly slept through the night. She was bright and alert when she arose.

Mom received a phone call from an old friend this morning. The two of them had a nice chat. The conversation did take twice as long as it would have under normal circumstances but since it involved two semi-deaf old ladies half of it consisted of "What did you say/do?" and "No, I said. . .". Still, Mom didn't sound a day over eighty. And when she hung up she recounted some of it to me. (Seems her friend, who is near Mom's age but still has most of her faculties, has finally had to give up driving and isn't yet used to having family chauffeur her around.)

The only weird part of the day was the excessive praise for her "wonderful, amazing" breakfast just because I put fresh strawberries on her chocolate Cheerios.

Otherwise, it's warm and sunny, the doors and windows are open, my brother picked a newly-blossomed rose (that actually smells like a rose, unlike the store-bought kind) and put it on Mom's table where she is sitting with a cup of coffee and a fresh bunch of grapes reading her book.

If only we could just freeze things as they are right now.

I Really Hope It Wasn't The Toe Nail Clippers

I thought Mom was still in bed this morning when I rose because her door was shut. (She had stayed in her room most of last night after I had a serious talk with her as a result of her coming out twice in fifteen minutes.)

However, when I got to the kitchen I discovered a Hansel & Gretel-like trail of Cheerios leading around into the living room. Mom was half sitting, half lying on the couch, starting to nod off. She had just finished breakfast, which she had made herself: a bowl of cereal and half a banana. She had even poured milk on the cereal and used a spoon instead of her normal snacking practice of eating handsful dry from the box. The only thing she was missing was coffee. I had set the coffeemaker the night before but she didn't know it was primed to go if she just pushed the button.

When I asked her if she'd had enough she allowed that she had not so I gave her a second bowl of Cheerios (her favorite chocolate ones this time) and her coffee.

She offered me the other half of the banana but I wasn't sure how she had cut it, there being no used knife anywhere around and the real possibility, based on an examination of the wounded banana, that she had used a pen, toe nail scissors or her teeth, caused me to decline in favor of a glass of orange juice.

After a long spell of insomniac nights, I'm hoping this portends a return to more normal sleep habits and more daytime awareness.

Signifiers

How to tell you are in south Florida:

When the temperature threatens to drop to near freezing in a couple of counties to the north (not an actual storm, mind you, and the rest of the country is already in the icebox), the local news hacks immediately go into "team coverage."

A local medical supply outlet advertises oxygen masks, breathing tubes and heart monitors as Valentine's Day gifts.

A local seaside bar, in addition to the big screen TVs, pool tables and drink specials advertises competitive "Cornhole Volleyball." I do not want to know.

On the plus side, the mango tree has maybe a hundred or more blossoms. The problem is we still have plenty in the freezer from last season. Free mangoes for anyone who stops by this summer!!

Sisters: It's Genetic, Except For the Learned Parts

We received a call from one of my cousins yesterday evening. He was letting us know that his mom, Mom's kid sister, our aunt had received the birthday card we'd sent by way of him. We sent the card to his address because his mom, despite being almost three years younger than ours, is in much worse shape mentally and physically. She lives in a residential facility on the other side of the state, is not mobile on her own, and often does not recognize familiar people.

Considering that Alzheimer's is genetic and both sisters have it our main consolation is that it seems to be very late-onset in our family. I am pleased Mom is holding up as well as she is.

As a matter of fact, the reason we remembered to send the card on time was because, when we put up the 2012 calendar in the kitchen, Mom went straight to it, flipped to February and wrote in her sister's name on the appropriate date. It's right there in legible script, in pen.

Considering how bad I've always been at remembering birthdays (with no valid excuse), I find that pretty impressive.

Timing

I wish there was some way to get Mom back onto a normal day/night cycle. Last night she went to bed at her regular time and all seemed well (she got up only once to go to the bathroom)--as far as I knew. I woke at four in the morning to find her light on and door open and her not in her room.

She was in the living room on the couch, in the dark, eating the last of her dry breakfast cereal by the handful from the wax paper inner bag she'd pulled out of the cereal box. She was very co-operative as I shepherded her back to her room.

This morning I fixed pancakes for breakfast since there was no more of her cereal available. I should say I made the batter since I suspected she wouldn't rise on time and didn't want to actually make the pancakes before she did. When I heard her in the hallway about 11:00 a.m., I fired up the griddle. Half an hour later she still hadn't made it out into the dining room. I checked on her and she was back in her room making and remaking her bed in a vain attempt to find her glasses.

Thinking she could have left them almost anywhere during her ramblings last night, I searched the entire house only to find them folded neatly on her bedside table.

She finally sat down for a short stack and coffee at noon. When she was done she carefully took a piece of tissue, daubed it into the remaining syrup on her plate, and began to cut it with her fork.

I said, "Mom, what are you doing? You can't eat that!"

"Why not?"

"Because, it's not food. It's a Kleenex."

"It is? I couldn't tell what it was."

"Yes, it is. Are you still hungry? I can fix you something else."

She stared at her plate for a moment.

"Are you still hungry?" I repeated.

"I guess so," she admitted.

I fixed her an egg and toast and more coffee. I think that counts as lunch so maybe we're all caught up now.

Arriving Unannounced

It looks like Rainy Season may have snuck up on us. None of the official weather people have mentioned it yet, but two days ago the sky suddenly clouded up, thick, bulging, heavy, dark and fast and, right at noon, the downpour began. It settled into a mild drizzle for most of the afternoon and then opened up again for a short period around dinner time.

The poor cat knew what was coming and was frantically begging to come inside just before the storm hit but my brother had set up a shelter for her just off the driveway. (No indoors for kitty until the vet checks her out--which visit has not yet been scheduled.)

Today's Weather Channel local outlook forecasts rain or showers every day but two for the next week, and those two days are to be at best "party cloudy." All the windows remain open until we figure out which direction the rain is coming from since the temperatures are staying in the low to mid 80s all week as well.

Out of Town Visitors

Yesterday, my brother decided to fix a picnic lunch/dinner. And so we had barbecued ribs, baked beans, cole slaw, potato salad (for Mom and me) and macaroni salad (for himself) and sat and watched the birds at their bath.

The cat, now she is being fed regularly, is content to confine her wanderings to the front of the house between the head of the driveway, where she is fed, and the cushioned lawn chair by the front door where she naps. The birds retain the backyard unmolested. In addition to the expected murder of crows and piteousness of doves there was a small band of blue jays (not unexpected but seldom seen in quantity) and a couple of mockingbirds. The crows were quite civilized but the doves, and especially the jays, kept splashing water everywhere necessitating a half-time refill of the bath.

What excited us, however, were two singleton visitors we have not seen before: a red-wing blackbird (smaller than the crows and blending in until it took flight and revealed its stripes) and a Baltimore oriole which perched in Neighbor Mike's orange tree. We're hoping they'll stay around for a while.

Winter in Florida.

Sign of the Times

Pulled up at a stoplight behind a contractor's truck covered in advertising signage describing all the services offered, one of which is "Chinese Remediation." Anyone not familiar with this area might be forgiven for assuming the contractor was offering a sideline in either language classes or a service to deport illegal immigrants.

Anyone who has been here more than three months, however, knows this is the epicenter for defective, formaldehyde-laced drywall originally imported from China. It's a legacy of the housing boom that created the bubble that crashed the market that turned a large number of homeowners upside-down in their mortgages and spiked unemployment. Houses have been remodeled, gutted, abandoned, foreclosed on, and possibly even torched by desperate owners. The lawsuits inch ever more slowly toward resolution. And affected houses are still being found every now and then.

So, here, everyone knows what "Chinese Remediation" is.